Klara and the Sun(37)

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—

Once, Rick reached forward and picked up a sheet, regarded it carefully, then put down his sharp pencil. He went on looking at the picture for some time, till Josie, noticing from the bed, stopped her sketching.

‘Something up, Ricky?’

‘Hmm. I was just wondering what these were supposed to be.’

‘What do they look like?’

‘These folks surrounding her. Am I to assume they’re aliens? It almost looks like instead of a head, they have, well, a giant eyeball. I’m sorry if I have this all wrong.’

‘You haven’t got it all wrong.’ There was a coldness in her voice, and also a small fear. ‘Well, at least not really. They’re not aliens. They’re just…what they are.’

‘All right. They’re an eyeball tribe. But what’s rather troubling is the way they’re all staring at her.’

‘What’s troubling about it?’

The silence continued behind me and, in the window reflections, I saw Rick continuing to stare at the sheet.

‘So what’s troubling about it?’ Josie asked again.



‘I’m not sure. This is an extra large bubble you’ve made for her too. I’m not sure what I should write.’

‘Write whatever you think she’s thinking. No different from the others.’

There was another silence. The Sun on the glass made it hard to see the reflections, and I was tempted to turn around, even though this might reduce privacy. But before I could, Rick said:

‘Their eyes are really quite creepy. And what’s even creepier. It looks like she wants them to keep staring at her.’

‘That’s sicko, Rick. Why would she want something like that?’

‘I don’t know. You tell me.’

‘How can I tell you?’ Josie’s voice was now annoyed. ‘Whose job is it to do the bubbles?’

‘She’s half smiling. Like she’s pleased on the inside.’

‘No, Ricky, that’s wrong. That’s just sick.’

‘I’m sorry. I must be misinterpreting.’

‘Misinterpreting’s right. So hurry up and do her bubble. The next one’s here, nearly finished. Rick? You there?’

‘Perhaps I might pass on this one.’

‘Oh come on!’

The Sun had retreated now, and I could see Rick, in the glass, tossing the sheet gently onto the floor to join the untidy pile accumulating closer to Josie’s bed.

‘I’m disappointed, Rick.’

‘Then don’t draw pictures like that one.’

There was another silence. I could see Josie on the bed, pretending to be absorbed in her next sketch. I could no longer see Rick very well in the reflection, but I knew he’d remained quite still against the modern wardrobe, and was staring past me out of the rear window.



* * *



—



After Rick’s visits finished, Josie would usually be tired, and toss her sharp pencils, sketchpad and loose pages onto the floor, turn onto her front and rest. At these moments, I’d come off the Button Couch to pick up the many items by now scattered over the floor, and I’d then have the chance to see what they’d been discussing during the visit.

Josie, even with her cheek pressed into the pillow, wouldn’t actually be asleep, and often she’d continue to make remarks with her eyes closed. So she was fully aware I was observing the pictures as I gathered them, and clearly didn’t mind. In fact, it’s likely it was her wish that I look at each and every one of them.

Once, while performing this tidying, I happened to pick up a sheet, and though I glanced at it only fleetingly, established straight away that the two main faces in the picture were supposed to represent Missy and the long-armed girl from the interaction meeting. There were, of course, various inaccuracies, but Josie’s intention was obvious. The sisters were at the front of the picture, with unkind expressions, while other less finished faces crowded around them. And although there were no furniture details I knew the setting was the Open Plan. Had it not been for a large bubble above it, it would have been easy not to notice the small, featureless creature squeezed into the gap between the sisters. In contrast to the Picture Missy and the Picture Long-Armed Girl, this creature lacked the usual human features, such as face, shoulders, arms, and resembled more one of the water blobs that formed on the surface of the Island near the sink. In fact, if not for the bubble above it, a passer-by might not even have guessed this shape was intended to represent a person at all. The sisters were ignoring the Water Blob Person completely, despite the person’s closeness. Inside the bubble, Rick had written:

‘The smart kids think I have no shape. But I do. I’m just keeping it hidden. Because who wants them to see?’



Although I only glimpsed this picture for a second, Josie knew I’d taken it in, and she said from the bed in a sleepy voice:

‘Don’t you think that’s a weird thing for him to write?’

When I gave a small laugh and carried on tidying, she went on:

‘Do you suppose he thinks I meant that to be him? The little guy between the two nasties? Do you suppose that’s why he filled the bubble that way?’

‘It’s possible.’