Klara and the Sun(30)
When the Mother next spoke, it was more obvious she was speaking to me.
‘It must be nice sometimes to have no feelings. I envy you.’
I considered this, then said: ‘I believe I have many feelings. The more I observe, the more feelings become available to me.’
She laughed unexpectedly, making me start. ‘In that case,’ she said, ‘maybe you shouldn’t be so keen to observe.’ Then she added: ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude. I’m sure you have all sorts of feelings.’
‘When Josie was unable to come with us just now, I felt sadness.’
‘You felt sadness. Okay.’ She became silent, perhaps to concentrate on her driving and the cars coming in the opposite direction. Then she said: ‘There was a time, not so long ago, when I thought I was getting to feel less and less. A little less each day. I didn’t know if I was happy about that or not. But now, lately, I seem to be getting overly sensitive to everything. Klara, look over to your left. You okay back there? Look way over to your left and tell me what you can see.’
We were crossing land that neither rose nor fell, and the sky was still very large. I saw flat fields, empty of barns or farm vehicles, stretching into the distance. But near the horizon was what appeared to be a town created entirely out of metal boxes.
‘You see it?’ the Mother asked, not taking her own gaze from the road.
‘It’s far away,’ I said. ‘But I can see a kind of village. Perhaps the sort where cars or other such items are made.’
‘Not a bad guess. Actually that’s a chemical plant, and a pretty cutting-edge one. Kimball Refrigeration. Though they haven’t had anything to do with a refrigerator for decades. It was the reason why we first came out here. Josie’s father was employed there.’
Although the metal boxes village remained distant, I could now make out tubes connecting one building to the next, and other tubes pointing up at the sky. Something about it reminded me of the awful Cootings Machine, and a concern came into my mind about Pollution. But just then the Mother said:
‘It’s a good place. Clean energy in, clean energy out. Josie’s father was once a rising star there.’
Then the metal boxes village was no longer visible, and I straightened in my seat again.
‘We get along fine now,’ the Mother said. ‘You could almost say we’re friends. That’s a good thing for Josie, of course.’
‘I wonder, does the Father still work at the refrigeration village?’
‘What? Oh no. He was…substituted. Like all the rest of them. He was a brilliant talent. Still is, of course. We get along better now. That’s the important thing for Josie.’
We traveled after that for some time without talking, the road now climbing steeply. Then the Mother slowed the car and we turned down a narrow road. When I next looked between the front seats, the new road appeared only slightly wider than the car itself. Before us, marked into the road’s surface, were muddy parallel lines made by earlier wheels, and there were trees pressing in on us from both sides, like buildings in a city street. The Mother made the car continue down this narrow road, and though she drove more slowly, I wondered what would happen if another car came the other way. Then we turned another corner and came to a stop.
‘This is it, Klara. From here we’re on foot. Can you manage it?’
When we got out, I felt the chilly wind and heard the birds’ noises. There were more wild trees around us as we climbed a path with rocks and clusters of mud. I had to take precautions, but I kept up behind the Mother, and after a time we went through a gap between two wooden posts onto another path. This one kept rising, and the Mother had frequently to stop to allow me to catch up. It occurred to me then she might have been correct after all in believing this trip too difficult for Josie.
Just at this point, I happened to look to my left, over the fence running beside us, and saw the bull in the field, watching us carefully. I had seen photos of bulls in magazines, but of course never in reality, and even though this one was standing quite far from us, and I knew it couldn’t cross the fence, I was so alarmed by its appearance I gave an exclamation and came to a halt. I’d never before seen anything that gave, all at once, so many signals of anger and the wish to destroy. Its face, its horns, its cold eyes watching me all brought fear into my mind, but I felt something more, something stranger and deeper. At that moment it felt to me some great error had been made that the creature should be allowed to stand in the Sun’s pattern at all, that this bull belonged somewhere deep in the ground far within the mud and darkness, and its presence on the grass could only have awful consequences.
‘It’s okay,’ the Mother said. ‘He can’t touch us. Now come on. I need a coffee.’
I made myself look away from the bull and followed the Mother. Then quite soon we were no longer climbing and around us appeared the rough wooden tables I’d seen in Josie’s photograph. I counted fourteen of them placed around the field, each one with benches attached on either side made from wooden planks. There were adults, children, AFs, dogs sitting at the tables, or running, walking and standing around them. Just beyond the tables was the waterfall. It was larger and fiercer than the one I’d seen in the magazine, filling eight boxes just by itself. I looked for the Sun, but couldn’t see him in the gray sky.