Klara and the Sun

by Kazuo Ishiguro

  The father, meanwhile, had come nearer, treading softly so as not to disturb what might be a special moment. Manager too had moved closer and was standing just behind the father. I noted all this, but kept my eyes fixed on the Red Shelves and the ceramic coffee cups, and kept my hand, inside hers, slack so that had she let go, mine would have flopped down at my side.

  I became increasingly aware of Manager’s gaze on me. Then I heard her say:

  ‘Klara is excellent. She’s one of our finest. But the young lady might be interested to look at the new B3 models that just came in.’

  ‘B3s?’ The father sounded excited. ‘You have those already?’

  ‘We enjoy an exclusive relationship with our suppliers. They’re only just in, and not yet calibrated. But I’d be happy to show them to you.’

  The spiky-haired girl squeezed my hand again. ‘But Daddy, I want this one. She’s just right.’

  ‘But they have the new B3s in, honey. Don’t you want just to look at those? No one you know has one.’

  There was a long wait, then the girl released my hand. I let my arm fall and continued to look at the Red Shelves.

  ‘So what’s the big deal about these new B3s anyway?’ the girl said, moving off towards her father.

  I hadn’t been thinking about Rosa while the girl had been holding my hand, but I now became aware of her, standing to my left, watching me with amazement. I wanted to make her look away, but decided to keep gazing at the Red Shelves until the girl, her father and Manager were all safely rear-store. I could hear the father laughing at something Manager had said, then when I finally glanced their way, Manager was opening the Staff Only Door at the very rear of the store.

  ‘You’ll have to excuse me,’ she was saying. ‘It’s a little untidy in here.’

  And the father said, ‘We’re privileged to be allowed back here. Right, honey?’

  They went in, the door closed behind them, and I couldn’t hear their words any more, though at one point I heard the spiky-haired girl’s laugh.

  The rest of the morning remained busy. Even while Manager was completing the delivery forms with the father for their new B3, more customers came in. So it wasn’t until the afternoon, when there was finally a lull, that Manager came over to me.

  ‘I was surprised at you this morning, Klara,’ she said. ‘You of all people.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Manager.’

  ‘What came over you? It was so unlike you.’

  ‘I’m very sorry, Manager. I didn’t mean to cause embarrassment. I just thought, for that particular child, I perhaps wouldn’t be the best choice.’

  Manager went on looking at me. ‘Perhaps you were correct,’ she said in the end. ‘I believe that girl will be happy with the B3 boy. Even so, Klara, I was very surprised.’

  ‘I’m very sorry, Manager.’

  ‘I supported you this time. But I won’t do it again. It’s for the customer to choose the AF, never the other way round.’

  ‘I understand, Manager.’ Then I said quietly: ‘Thank you, Manager, for what you did today.’

  ‘That’s all right, Klara. But remember. I shan’t do it again.’

  She began to move away, but then turned and came back.

  ‘It can’t be, can it, Klara? That you believe you’ve made an arrangement?’

  I thought Manager was about to reprimand me, the way she’d reprimanded two boy AFs once for laughing at Beggar Man from the window. But Manager placed a hand on my shoulder and said, in a quieter voice than before:

  ‘Let me tell you something, Klara. Children make promises all the time. They come to the window, they promise all kinds of things. They promise to come back, they ask you not to let anyone else take you away. It happens all the time. But more often than not, the child never comes back. Or worse, the child comes back and ignores the poor AF who’s waited, and instead chooses another. It’s just the way children are. You’ve been watching and learning so much, Klara. Well, here’s another lesson for you. Do you understand?’

  ‘Yes, Manager.’

  ‘Good. So let’s have no more of this.’ She touched my arm, then turned away.

  * * *

  —

  The new B3s – three boy AFs – were soon calibrated and took up their positions. Two went straight into the window, with a big new sign, and the other was given the front alcove. A fourth B3, of course, had already been bought by the spiky-haired girl and shipped without any of us meeting him.

  Rosa and I remained mid-store, though we were moved to the Red Shelves side once the new B3s arrived. After our turn in the window had finished, Rosa had taken to repeating something Manager had said to us: that every position in the store was a good one, and that we were as likely to be chosen mid-store as in the window or the front alcove. Well, in Rosa’s case, this turned out to be true.

  There was nothing about the way the day started to suggest such a huge thing was about to happen. There was nothing different about the taxis or the passers-by, or in the way the grid had gone up, or the way Manager had greeted us. Yet by that evening, Rosa had been bought, and she’d vanished behind the Staff Only Door to prepare for shipping. I suppose I’d always thought that before either of us left the store, there would be plenty of time to talk everything over. But it happened very quickly. I barely took in anything useful about the boy and his mother who came in and chose her. And as soon as they’d left, and Manager had confirmed she’d been bought, Rosa became so excited it was impossible for us to have a serious talk. I wanted to go over the many things she’d have to remember in order to be a good AF; to remind her of all the things Manager had taught us, and to explain to her everything I’d learned about the outside. But she just kept rushing from one topic to the next. Would the boy’s room have a high ceiling? What color car would the family have? Would she get to see the ocean? Would she be asked to pack a picnic into a basket? I tried to remind her about the Sun’s nourishment, how important that was, and I wondered aloud if her room would be easy for the Sun to look into, but Rosa wasn’t interested. Then before we knew it, it was time for Rosa to go away into the back room, and I saw her smiling over her shoulder at me one last time before she disappeared behind the door.

  * * *

  —

  In the days after Rosa left, I remained mid-store. The two B3s in the window had been bought, one day apart, and Boy AF Rex also found a home around that time. Soon, three more B3s arrived – boy AFs again – and Manager positioned them almost directly across from me, over on the magazines table side, alongside the two boy AFs from the older series. The Glass Display Trolley was between me and this group, so I didn’t converse with them much. But I had plenty of time to observe them, and I saw how welcoming the older boy AFs were being, giving the new B3s all kinds of useful advice. So I supposed they were getting on well. But then I began to notice something odd. During the course of a morning, say, the three B3s would move, little by little, away from the two older AFs. Sometimes they would take tiny steps to the side. Or a B3 would become interested in something through the window, walk over to look, then return to a spot slightly different from the one Manager had chosen for him. After four days, there could be no more doubt: the three new B3s were deliberately moving themselves away from the older AFs so that when customers came in, the B3s would look like a separate group on their own. I didn’t wish to believe this at first – that AFs, in particular AFs handpicked by Manager, could behave in this way. I felt sorry for the older boy AFs, but then realized they hadn’t noticed anything. Nor did they notice, as I soon did, how the B3s exchanged sly looks and signals whenever one of the older boy AFs took the trouble to explain something to them. The new B3s, it was said, had all sorts of improvements. But how could they be good AFs for their children if their minds could invent ideas like these? If Rosa had been with me, I would have discussed what I’d seen with her, but of course she’d g
one by then.

  * * *

  —

  One afternoon, when the Sun was looking in all the way to the back of the store, Manager came to where I was and said:

  ‘Klara, I’ve decided to give you another turn in the window. You’ll be by yourself this time, but I know you won’t mind that. You’re always so interested in the outside.’

  I was so surprised I looked at her and said nothing.

  ‘Dear Klara,’ Manager said. ‘And it was always Rosa I was concerned about. You’re not worried, are you? You mustn’t worry. I’ll make sure you find a home.’

  ‘I’m not worrying, Manager,’ I said. I almost said something about Josie, but stopped myself in time, remembering our conversation after the spiky-haired girl had come to the store.

  ‘From tomorrow then,’ Manager said. ‘Just six days. I’m giving you a special price too. Remember, Klara, you’ll be representing the store again. So do your best.’

  My second time in the window felt different from the first, and not just because Rosa wasn’t with me. The street outside was as lively as before, but I found I had to make more effort to be excited by what I saw. Sometimes a taxi would slow, a passer-by would stoop down to talk to the driver, and I would try to guess if they were friends or enemies. At other times I’d watch the small figures going across the windows of the RPO Building and try to understand what their movements meant, and to imagine what each person had been doing just before they’d appeared in their rectangle, and what they might do afterwards.

  The most important thing I observed during my second time was what happened to Beggar Man and his dog. It was on the fourth day – on an afternoon so gray some taxis had on their small lights – that I noticed Beggar Man wasn’t at his usual place greeting passers-by from the blank doorway between the RPO and Fire Escapes buildings. I didn’t think much about it at first because Beggar Man often wandered away, sometimes for long periods. But then once I looked over to the opposite side and realized he was there after all, and so was his dog, and that I hadn’t seen them because they were lying on the ground. They’d pushed themselves right against the blank doorway to keep out of the way of the passers-by, so that from our side you could have mistaken them for the bags the city workers sometimes left behind. But now I kept looking at them through the gaps in the passers-by, and I saw that Beggar Man never moved, and neither did the dog in his arms. Sometimes a passer-by would notice and pause, but then start walking again. Eventually the Sun was almost behind the RPO Building, and Beggar Man and the dog were exactly as they had been all day, and it was obvious they had died, even though the passers-by didn’t know it. I felt sadness then, despite it being a good thing they’d died together, holding each other and trying to help one another. I wished someone would notice, so they could be taken somewhere better, and quieter, and I thought about saying something to Manager. But when it was time for me to step down from the window for the night, she looked so tired and serious I decided to say nothing.

  The next morning the grid went up and it was a most splendid day. The Sun was pouring his nourishment onto the street and into the buildings, and when I looked over to the spot where Beggar Man and the dog had died, I saw they weren’t dead at all – that a special kind of nourishment from the Sun had saved them. Beggar Man wasn’t yet on his feet, but he was smiling and sitting up, his back against the blank doorway, one leg stretched out, the other bent so he could rest his arm on its knee. And with his free hand, he was fondling the neck of the dog, who had also come back to life and was looking from side to side at the people going by. They were both hungrily absorbing the Sun’s special nourishment and becoming stronger by the minute, and I saw that before long, perhaps even by that afternoon, Beggar Man would be on his feet again, cheerfully exchanging remarks as always from the blank doorway.

  Then soon my six days were finished, and Manager told me I’d been a credit to the store. Above-average numbers, she said, had come in while I’d been in the window, and I was happy when I heard this. I thanked her for giving me a second turn, and she smiled and said she was sure I wouldn’t now have to wait long.

  * * *

  —

  Ten days later, I was moved to the rear alcove. Manager, knowing how much I liked to have a view of the outside, assured me it would only be for a few days, then I’d be able to return mid-store again. In any case, she said, the rear alcove was a very good position, and sure enough, I found I didn’t mind it at all. I’d always liked the two AFs who were now sitting on the Glass Table against the back wall, and I was close enough to them to have extended conversations, calling across to them, provided there were no customers. The rear alcove, however, was beyond the arch, so not only was there no view of the outside, it was hard to see even the front part of the store. If I wished to see customers as they first came in, I had to lean all the way forward to peer round the side of the arch, and even then – even if I took a few steps – the view would still be interrupted by the silver vases on the magazines table, and the B3s standing mid-store. On the other hand, perhaps because we were further from the street – or because of the way the ceiling sloped down at the rear of the store – I could hear sounds more clearly. That was why I knew, just from her footsteps, long before she started to speak, that Josie had come into the store.

  ‘Why did they have to have all that perfume? I almost gagged.’

  ‘Soap, Josie,’ the Mother’s voice said. ‘Not perfume. Handcut soap and very fine it was too.’

  ‘Well, that wasn’t the store. It was this one. I told you, Mom.’ I heard her careful steps move along the floor. Then she said, ‘This is definitely the right store. But she’s not here any more.’

  I took three small steps forward till I could see, between the silver vases and the B3s, the Mother staring at something out of my vision. I could see her face only from one side, but I thought she appeared even more tired than that time I’d seen her on the sidewalk, looking like one of the high-perched birds in the wind. I guessed that she was watching Josie – and that Josie was looking at the new girl B3 in the front alcove.

  For a long time nothing happened. Then the Mother said, ‘What do you think, Josie?’

  Josie didn’t reply, and I heard Manager’s footsteps move across the floor. I could now feel that special stillness in the store when every AF is listening, wondering if a sale is about to be made.

  ‘Sung Yi is a B3, of course,’ Manager said. ‘One of the most perfect I’ve yet seen.’

  I could now see Manager’s shoulder, but I still couldn’t see Josie. Then I heard Josie’s voice say:

  ‘You’re really fantastic, Sung Yi. So please don’t take this the wrong way. It’s just that…’ She trailed off, I heard again her careful steps, then for the first time I could see her. Josie was casting her gaze all around the store.

  The Mother said: ‘I’ve heard these new B3s are very good with cognition and recall. But that they can sometimes be less empathetic.’

  Manager made a sound that was a sigh and also a laugh. ‘At the very beginning, perhaps, one or two B3s were known to be a little headstrong. But I can absolutely assure you, Sung Yi here will present no such issues.’

  ‘Would you mind,’ the Mother said to Manager, ‘if I address Sung Yi directly? I have some questions I’d like to put to her.’

  ‘But Mom,’ Josie broke in – and now she was again out of my vision – ‘what’s the point? Sung Yi’s great, I know. But she’s not who I want.’

  ‘We can’t keep searching forever, Josie.’

  ‘But it was this store, I’m telling you, Mom. She was here. I guess we’re too late, that’s all.’

  It was unfortunate Josie should have come in just when I was rear-store. Even so, I was sure she would in time come to my part of the store and see me, and that was one reason why I remained where I was, not making a sound. But perhaps there was a further reason. For a
fear had entered my mind almost at the same moment I’d felt joy on realizing who had come into the store – a fear to do with what Manager had said to me that day, about how children often made promises, then didn’t return, or if they did, ignored the AF to whom they’d made the promise and chose another. Perhaps that was why I went on waiting there quietly.

  Then Manager’s voice came again, and there was something new in it.

  ‘Excuse me, miss. Do I understand you were looking for a particular AF? One you’d seen here before?’

  ‘Yes, ma’am. You had her in your window a while back. She was really cute, and really smart. Looked almost French? Short hair, quite dark, and all her clothes were like dark too and she had the kindest eyes and she was so smart.’

  ‘I think I might know who you mean,’ Manager said. ‘If you’d follow me, miss, we’ll find out.’

  Only then did I move to where they would see me. I’d been out of the Sun’s patterns all morning, but now I stepped into two bright intersecting rectangles just as Manager, and Josie following, came up to the arch. When Josie saw me her face filled with joy and she quickened her stride.

  ‘You’re still here!’

  She had become even thinner. She kept coming with her uncertain stride, and I thought she was about to embrace me, but she stopped at the last moment and looked up into my face.

  ‘Oh boy! I really thought you’d gone!’

  ‘Why would I be gone?’ I said quietly. ‘We made a promise.’