Кадзуо Исигуро - Klara and the Sun

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As before, the barn was filled with orange light, and it was hard at first to see my surroundings. But I soon discerned the blocks of hay stacked up to my left, and I could see the low wall they formed had become even lower. There were the same particles of hay caught within the Sun’s rays, but instead of drifting gently in the air, they were now moving agitatedly as if one of the hay blocks had recently crashed down onto the hard wood floor and disintegrated. When I reached up to touch these moving particles, I noticed how my fingers cast shadows stretching all the way back to the barn’s entrance.

Beyond the hay blocks was the real wall of the barn, and I was pleased to see the Red Shelves from our old store still attached to it, though this evening they’d become crooked, slanting noticeably towards the rear of the building. The ceramic coffee cups had maintained their orderly line, but there were also signs of confusion: for instance, further on the same tier, I could see an object that was unmistakably Melania Housekeeper’s food blender.

I remembered how the last time I’d waited for the Sun, I’d sat on a metal foldaway chair, and turned towards the other side of the barn, hoping to see again not only the chair, but also the front alcove of our store – and perhaps even an AF standing proudly within it. What I actually saw was the Sun’s rays streaming by before me, following a near-horizontal trajectory, from the rear entrance to the front one. It was almost as if I were watching passing traffic in a busy street, and when I managed to throw my gaze over to the further side, I found it had been partitioned into numerous boxes of uneven dimensions. Only after a few seconds did I spot the metal foldaway chair – or rather, various parts of it within several of the boxes – and recalling how much comfort it had brought me the last time, I began to move towards it. But no sooner had I stepped into the Sun’s rays, it occurred to me that if I wished to catch his attention before he moved on, I’d have to act without delay. So I began forming words inside my mind, even as I stood there caught in the intense light.

‘You must be so tired, and I’m very sorry to disturb you. You’ll remember, I came here once before in the summer, when you were so kind and gave me a few minutes of your time. I’m daring now to return this evening to discuss the same very important matter.’

These words had barely shaped themselves when the memory came into my mind of that day of Josie’s interaction meeting, and the angry mother striding into the Open Plan shouting: ‘Danny’s right! You shouldn’t be here at all!’ Almost simultaneously I noticed, in one of the boxes to my right, angry cartoon writing like that I’d seen from the car on a building in the city. Regardless, I let more half-formed words rush through my mind.

‘I know I’ve no right to come here like this. And I know the Sun must be angry with me. I let him down, failing completely to stop Pollution. In fact I see now how very foolish I was in not considering there’d be a second terrible machine to allow Pollution to continue without a pause. But the Sun was watching at the yard that day, so he will know how hard I tried, and how I made my sacrifice, which I was only too pleased to do, even if now my abilities aren’t perhaps what they were. And you must have seen how the Father too helped and did his utmost, even though he knew nothing about the Sun’s kind agreement, because he saw my hope and placed his faith in it. I sincerely apologize for underestimating my task. It was my error and no one else’s, and though the Sun is right to be angry with me, I’m asking he accept that Josie herself is completely innocent. Like the Father, she never knew about my agreement with the Sun, and still has no idea. And now she’s becoming weaker and weaker each day. I’ve come here this evening like this because I’ve never forgotten how kind the Sun can be. If only he would show his great compassion to Josie, as he did that day to Beggar Man and his dog. If only he’d send Josie the special nourishment she so desperately requires.’

As these words swept through my mind, I thought of the terrible bull on the way up to Morgan’s Falls, of its horns and its cold eyes, and of the feeling I’d had at that moment of some great error having been made to allow a creature so filled with anger to stand unconstrained up on the sunny grass. I heard the Mother’s voice, somewhere behind me on the path, shout: ‘No, Paul, not now and not in this goddam car!’ and saw the lonely woman sitting by herself in Mr Vance’s diner, unnoticed even by the Diner Manager, pressing her forehead against the window towards the dark street outside, and it occurred to me how very much the woman resembled Rosa. But I realized I couldn’t afford to become distracted, that the Sun was likely to leave at any moment, and so I let more thoughts stream through my mind, no longer shaping them into formal words.

‘I don’t mind that I lost precious fluid. I’d willingly have given more, given it all, if it meant your providing special help to Josie. As you know, since I was last here, I’ve discovered about the other way to save Josie, and if that was all that was left, I’d do my very utmost. But I’m not yet certain the other way would work, however hard I tried, and so my deep wish now is that the Sun will show his great kindness once more.’

The hand I’d been holding out whilst crossing the Sun’s rays made contact with something hard and I realized I was clutching the frame of the metal foldaway chair. I felt happiness to have found it again, but didn’t sit down in case it appeared disrespectful. Instead, I steadied myself behind it, holding its back with both hands.

The Sun’s rays coming from the back of the barn were too intense to face directly, so though it might seem rude, I turned my gaze once more to the drifting shapes to my right, perhaps hoping to glimpse Rosa sitting in the lonely diner booth. But now the Sun’s pattern had fallen across the front alcove, momentarily illuminating it, and I saw there not an AF, but a large oval-shaped photograph fixed to the wall. It showed a green field on a sunny day, dotted with sheep, and in the foreground, I recognized the four special sheep I’d glimpsed from the Mother’s car returning from Morgan’s Falls. They seemed even more gentle than I’d remembered, lined up as they were in a neat row, their heads lowered to partake of the grass. These creatures had filled me with happiness that day, helping to erase the memory of the terrible bull, and I was pleased to see them again, if only in this oval photograph. But something was wrong: although the four sheep were positioned in a line in just the same formation I’d seen from the car, here they’d become oddly suspended, so they no longer appeared to stand on the surface of the ground. As a result, when they stretched down to eat, their mouths couldn’t reach the grass, giving these creatures, so happy on the day, a mood of sadness.

‘Please don’t go away just yet,’ I said. ‘Please give me one more brief moment. I know I failed to perform the service I promised you in the city and I’ve no right to ask anything further of you. But I’m remembering how delighted you were that day Coffee Cup Lady and Raincoat Man found each other again. You were so delighted and couldn’t help showing it. So I know just how much it matters to you that people who love one another are brought together, even after many years. I know the Sun always wishes them well, perhaps even helps them to find each other. Please then consider Josie and Rick. They’re still very young. Should Josie pass away now, they’ll be parted forever. If only you could give her special nourishment, as I saw you do for Beggar Man and his dog, then Josie and Rick could go together into their adult lives just as they wished for in their kind picture. I can myself vouch that their love is strong and lasting, just like that of Coffee Cup Lady and Raincoat Man.’