I hoped the shadows of the Morgan’s Falls trip might be gone by the next morning, but I was disappointed, and Josie’s cold manner continued for a long time afterwards.
Even more puzzling was the change Morgan’s Falls made to the Mother’s manner. I’d believed the trip had gone well, and that there would now be a warmer atmosphere between us. But the Mother, just like Josie, became more distant, and if she encountered me in the hall or on the landing, she’d no longer greet me in the way she’d done before.
Naturally then, in the days that followed, I thought often about why the interaction meeting should cast no shadows at all, but Morgan’s Falls, despite my complying with Josie’s and the Mother’s wishes, had produced such consequences. Again, the possibility came into my mind that my limitations, in comparison to a B3’s, had somehow made themselves obvious that day, causing both Josie and the Mother to regret the choice they’d made. If this were so, I knew my best course was to work harder than ever to be a good AF to Josie until the shadows receded. At the same time, what was becoming clear to me was the extent to which humans, in their wish to escape loneliness, made maneuvers that were very complex and hard to fathom, and I saw it was possible that the consequences of Morgan’s Falls had at no stage been within my control.
As things turned out, however, I had little time to dwell on the Morgan’s Falls shadows, because several days after the outing, Josie’s health collapsed.
She became too weak to go down in the mornings to the Mother’s quick coffee. So instead, the Mother would come up to the bedroom and stand over Josie’s sleeping figure, her back remaining very straight even as she sipped her coffee and looked down at the bed.
Once the Mother left for the day, Melania Housekeeper would take over, moving the easy chair close to the bed and sitting with her oblong on her lap, eyes moving back and forth between the screen and the sleeping Josie. And it was on one such morning, as I was standing just inside the bedroom door in readiness to help, that Melania Housekeeper turned and said:
‘AF. You behind me all the time. Creep me out. Go outdoors.’
She had said ‘outdoors’. I turned to the door before asking quietly: ‘Excuse me, housekeeper. Do you mean outside the house?’
‘Outside room, outside house, who care? Come back quick if I send signal.’
I had never before gone into the outdoors on my own. But it was clear that as far as Melania Housekeeper was concerned there was no reason why I shouldn’t do so. I went carefully down the staircase, excitement entering my mind despite the worries concerning Josie.
When I stepped out onto the loose stones, the Sun was high, but seemed weary. I was unsure about closing the house door behind me, but in the end, since there were no passers-by, and I didn’t wish to disturb Josie by sounding the door chime on my return, I pulled the door nearly closed without engaging the lock mechanism. Then I stepped further into the outdoors.
To my left I could see the grass mound where I’d met Rick flying his birds. Beyond the mound was the road along which the Mother left each morning – where I myself had traveled to Morgan’s Falls. But I turned away from these sights and walked in the opposite direction, crossing the loose stones to where I had a clear view of the fields behind the house.
The sky was pale and large. Because the fields rose gradually into the distance, Mr McBain’s barn was still visible despite my no longer having the benefit of the rear window’s height. The blades of grass were easier to distinguish than from the bedroom, but the main change was that I could now see Rick’s house rising out of the grass. I realized that if the rear window had been positioned just a little more to the left, Rick’s house would have been visible also from the bedroom.
But I didn’t consider Rick’s house, because my mind had become filled once more with the Josie worries, and specifically the question of why the Sun hadn’t yet sent his special help as he’d done for Beggar Man and his dog. I’d first expected the Sun to help Josie in the days when she’d become weak before Morgan’s Falls. I’d then accepted that he’d perhaps been correct at that point to wait, but now with Josie so much weaker, and so many things concerning her future in uncertainty, it was puzzling why he continued to delay.
I’d already given much thought to this matter, but now I was outside on my own, the fields so close and the Sun high above me, I was able to bring several speculations together. I could understand that for all his kindness, the Sun was very busy; that there were many people besides Josie who required his attention; that even the Sun could be expected to miss individual cases like Josie, especially if she appeared well looked after by a mother, a housekeeper and an AF. The idea came into my mind, then, that for her to receive the Sun’s special help, it might be necessary to draw his attention to Josie’s situation in some particular and noticeable way.
I walked on the soft earth till I was beside the fence to the first field, and a wooden gate that resembled a picture frame. The gate could be opened simply by raising the loop of cord hung over its post, and I saw I could then move on into the field unimpeded. The grass in the field looked very tall – and yet Josie and Rick, while still small children, had managed to walk through it all the way to Mr McBain’s barn. I could see the start of an informal trail, created by the feet of passers-by, leading into the grass, and wondered how possible it might be that I could undertake the same journey. I thought too about the time the Sun had given his special nourishment to Beggar Man and his dog, and considered the important differences between his circumstances and Josie’s. For one thing, many passers-by had known Beggar Man, and when he’d become weak, he’d done so in a busy street, visible to taxi drivers and runners. Any of these people might have drawn the Sun’s attention to his condition and that of his dog. Even more significantly, I remembered what had been happening not long before the Sun had given his special nourishment to Beggar Man. The Cootings Machine had been making its awful Pollution, obliging even the Sun to retreat for a time, and it had been during the fresh new era after the dreadful machine had gone away that the Sun, relieved and full of happiness, had given his special help.
I remained for a time in front of the picture frame gate, watching the grass lean one way then the other, wondering what other trails might be hidden within it, and how I might help to rescue Josie from her sickness. But I wasn’t yet used to being outdoors alone, and could sense disorientation starting to set in. So I turned from the fields and made my way back to the house.
Dr Ryan visited frequently during this period, and Josie spent long stretches of the day asleep. The Sun would pour in his normal nourishment each day, his pattern often falling across her sleeping form, but there remained no sign of his special help. But here again, the Sun was perhaps correct to wait, for Josie did become gradually stronger, until eventually she was able to sit up in bed.
She’d been warned by Dr Ryan not to resume her oblong lessons, so there now came the days when, propped up on her pillows, she created many pictures with her sharp pencils and sketchpad. Each time she finished a picture, or decided to abandon one, she’d tear it out and toss it into the air, allowing it to float down onto the rug, and it became my job to gather these sheets together into ordered piles.
As Dr Ryan came less, Rick visited more. Melania Housekeeper had always been wary of Rick, but even she could see how much his visits raised Josie’s spirits. So she allowed the visits, though insisting they last no more than thirty minutes. The first afternoon Rick was shown up to the bedroom, I started to leave in order to give privacy, but Melania Housekeeper stopped me on the landing, whispering: ‘No, AF! You stay in there. Make sure no hanky-panky.’
So it became normal for me to remain during Rick’s visits, even though he sometimes looked towards me with go away eyes, and almost never addressed me, even to say hello or goodbye. Had Josie also made such go away signals, I wouldn’t have remained, even after Melania Housekeeper’s instruction. But Josie seemed happy about my presence – I even thought she took comfort from it – though she never included me in their conversations.
I did my best to give privacy by remaining on the Button Couch and fixing my gaze over the fields. I couldn’t help hearing what was being said behind me, and though I sometimes thought I shouldn’t listen, I remembered it was my duty to learn as much about Josie as possible, and that by listening in this way, I might gather fresh observations otherwise unavailable to me.
Rick’s visits to the bedroom during this time fell into three phases. In the first phase, he’d glance around nervously when he arrived, and behave throughout the thirty minutes as though any careless movement he made might damage the furniture. It was in this phase he took up the habit of seating himself on the floor just in front of the modern wardrobe, resting his back against its doors. From the Button Couch I could see their reflections in the window, and with Rick in this position, and Josie sitting up in bed, they looked almost as though they were seated side by side, except with Josie at a higher level.
Throughout this first phase, there was a gentle atmosphere and the thirty minutes often passed with nothing much of substance being said. The children would often share memories from when they were younger, and make jokes about them. It would take only a word or a single reference to trigger such a memory and then they’d become immersed in it. They conversed at such moments in a speech that was like a code, making me wonder if this was on account of my presence in the room, but I quickly understood it had simply to do with their familiarity with each other’s lives, and that there was no intention to exclude my understanding.
Josie didn’t at first draw pictures while hosting Rick. But as they became more relaxed, she often sketched throughout the entire thirty minutes, tearing out sheets as she went, and allowing them to float down to where he was sitting. And this was how – quite innocently at first – the bubble game began.
The coming of the bubble game marked the start of the next phase of Rick’s visits. It’s possible that the bubble game was one they’d invented a long time earlier in their childhoods. Certainly, when the game started this time round, there’d been no need for instructions between them. Josie had simply begun to throw down her sketches to Rick, even as they continued their rambling conversations, until at one point he’d scrutinized a picture and said:
‘Okay. Is this now the bubble game?’
‘If you want. Just if you want, Ricky.’
‘I don’t have a pencil. Throw me one of the dark ones.’
‘I need all the dark ones here. Who’s the artist here anyway?’
‘How can I do the bubbles if you won’t even lend me a pencil?’
Even with my back to them, it wasn’t hard to guess the outline of this game. And once Rick left at the end of each half hour, I was able to observe the pages as I gathered them from the floor. And so it was I began to appreciate the growing importance this game had for them both.
Josie’s sketches were skillful, usually showing one, two or occasionally three people together, their heads drawn deliberately too large for their bodies. During those earlier visits, the faces tended always to be kind, and were sketched only with black sharp pencil, while their shoulders and bodies, like the surroundings, had been done with color sharp pencils. In each picture, Josie left an empty bubble hovering above one head or the other – sometimes two bubbles over two heads – for Rick to fill with written words. I understood quickly that even when the faces didn’t resemble Rick or Josie, within the world of this game, it was possible for all sorts of picture girls to stand for Josie, and picture boys for Rick. Similarly, other figures could stand for others in Josie’s life – the Mother, say, or children from the interaction meeting, as well as others I’d not yet encountered. Although for me it was difficult to understand who many faces stood for, Rick appeared to have no such problem. He never asked for clarification concerning the drawings that fluttered down to him, and would write his words into the bubbles without any hesitation.
I soon understood that the words Rick wrote inside the bubbles represented the thoughts, sometimes the speech, of the picture people, and that as such, his task carried some danger. From the start, I worried that something Josie drew, or something Rick wrote, would bring tension. But during this phase, the bubble game seemed to result only in enjoyment and reminiscences, and I’d see them reflected in the glass, laughing and pointing forefingers at each other. Had they concentrated solely on their game as they first played it – if they’d kept their conversation focused just on the pictures – perhaps the tensions wouldn’t have leaked in. But as Josie continued to sketch, and Rick to fill the bubbles, they began to converse about topics unrelated to the pictures.
One sunny afternoon, with the Sun’s pattern touching Rick’s feet where he sat against the modern wardrobe, Josie said:
‘You know, Ricky, I’m wondering if you’re getting jealous. The way you always keep asking about this portrait.’
‘I don’t understand. You mean you’re doing an actual portrait of me up there?’
‘No, Ricky. I mean the way you keep bringing up my portrait. The one this guy’s doing of me up in the city.’
‘Oh that. Well, I did once mention it, I suppose. That’s hardly bringing it up all the time.’
‘You keep bringing it up. Twice just yesterday.’
Rick’s writing hand paused, but he didn’t look up. ‘I suppose I’m curious. But how can anyone get jealous about your portrait getting done?’
‘Seems dumb. But you definitely sound that way.’
For the next few moments they were silent, getting on with their respective tasks. Then Rick said:
‘I wouldn’t say I’m jealous. I’m concerned. This guy, this artist person. Everything you say about him sounds, well, creepy.’
‘He’s just doing my portrait, is all. He’s always respectful, always anxious not to tire me out.’
‘He never sounds right. You say I keep bringing this up. Well, that’s because each time I do, you say something else to make me think, oh my God, this is getting creepy.’
‘What’s creepy about it?’
‘For one thing, you’ve been to his studio, what, four times? But he never shows you anything. No rough sketches, nothing. All he seems to do is take photos up close. This piece of you, that piece of you. Is that what artists really do?’
‘He prefers photos because that way I don’t get exhausted sitting still for hours in the old-fashioned way. This way I’m only in there twenty minutes tops, each time. He takes the photos he needs stage by stage. And Mom’s always there. Look, would my mom hire some pervert to do my portrait?’
Rick didn’t respond. Then Josie went on:
‘I think it is some kind of jealousy, Ricky. But you know what? I don’t mind. Shows you’ve got the right attitude. You’re being protective. Shows you’re thinking about our plan. So don’t worry.’
‘I’m not worried. This is such a ridiculous accusation.’
‘It’s not an accusation. I’m not saying it’s like sexual or anything. What I’m saying is that this portrait, it’s just part of the big world out there, and you’re worried it could get in our way. When I say you might be jealous, I’m just meaning in that sense.’
‘Fair enough.’
Their ‘plan’, though frequently mentioned, was rarely discussed in detail. Nevertheless, it was during this – still gentle – phase of the visits that I began to gather together their various remarks about it into a coherent observation. I came to understand that the plan wasn’t anything they’d built carefully, but more a vague wish connected to their future. I realized too the significance of this plan for my own aims; that as the future unfolded, even if the Mother, Melania Housekeeper and I could remain near her at all times, without the plan, Josie might still not keep away loneliness.
There then came a point when the bubble game stopped bringing laughter and brought instead fear and uncertainty. In my mind today, this marks the third and last phase of those visits Rick made at that time.
It’s hard now to establish which of them first altered the mood. In the earlier phases, Josie’s sketches were often created purposefully to bring back amusing or happy incidents they’d shared in the past. This was one reason Rick was able to fill the bubbles quickly and with little hesitation. But there now came a change in Rick’s reactions when the sheets floated down to him. Increasingly he would stare at them for long moments, sigh or frown. Then when he wrote his words, he’d do so slowly and with more concentration, often not replying to anything Josie said until he’d finished. And Josie’s responses, once Rick had passed the sheets back up to her, became hard to predict. She might study a sheet with blank eyes, before placing it amidst her bedclothes without comment. Or sometimes she’d flick a completed sheet back onto the floor, this time to a spot beyond Rick’s reach.
Every now and then, the mood might return to the way it was before, and they’d laugh or argue in a friendly way. But increasingly, either Josie’s picture or Rick’s words would cause an unkind exchange. Even so, a comfortable atmosphere would usually have returned by the time Melania Housekeeper called up the end of the thirty minutes.
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.’
‘But you don’t think so. Do you, Klara?’ Then she said: ‘Klara, you listening? Come on. Can we have a comment here?’
‘It’s perhaps more likely he assumed the small person was Josie.’
She said nothing else while I ordered the various sheets into piles and placed them with the previous ones in a space beneath the dressing table. I thought she’d fallen asleep, when she said suddenly:
‘What makes you say that?’
‘It’s only an estimate. I think that Rick thought the small person was Josie. And I believe Rick was trying to be kind.’
‘Kind? Why is that being kind?’
‘I believe Rick worries about Josie. How she sometimes appears to change in different situations. But in this picture, Rick is being kind. Because he’s suggesting Josie is being clever to protect herself and isn’t really changing.’
‘So what if I sometimes want to act different? Who wants to be the same all the time? The trouble with Rick is he always gets accusing when I’m any way he doesn’t like. It’s because he wants me to stay the way I was when we were small kids.’
‘I don’t really think that’s what Rick wishes.’
‘Then what’s all this? All this no shape, hiding stuff? I don’t see what’s kind about it. That’s Rick’s problem. He doesn’t want to grow up. At least, his mother doesn’t want him to and he goes along with it. The idea is he lives with his mom for ever and ever. How’s that going to help our plan? Any time I show any sign of trying to grow up, he gets sulky.’
I said nothing to this, and Josie continued to lie there with her eyes closed. She did fall asleep then, but just before she did, she said quietly:
‘Maybe. Maybe he did mean it to be kind.’
I wondered if Josie would bring up this particular picture – and the words inside the bubble – during Rick’s next visit. But she didn’t, and I realized there was a kind of rule between them not to talk directly about any of the pictures or bubble words once they’d been completed. Perhaps such an understanding was necessary in allowing them to draw and write freely. Even so, as I have said, I considered from the start that their bubble game was filled with danger, and it was what brought about the sudden end to Rick’s thirty-minute visits.
It was a rainy afternoon, but the Sun’s patterns still came faintly into the bedroom. There’d been around then a run of fairly relaxed visits, and the mood that day had also been quite comfortable. Then twelve minutes into the visit – they were again playing the bubble game – Josie said from the bed:
‘What’s going on down there? Haven’t you finished yet?’
‘I’m still thinking.’
‘Ricky, the idea’s you don’t think. You write down the first thing that comes to you.’
‘Fair enough. But this one requires more thought.’
‘Why? What’s different about it? Hurry it up. I’ve nearly finished this next one.’
In the window reflections, I could see Rick at his usual place on the floor, knees drawn up so that he could rest the picture on them, both hands down at his sides. He was staring at the picture before him with a puzzled expression. After a while, without pausing from her drawing, Josie said:
‘You know, I always meant to ask. Why is it your mom won’t drive any more? You still have that car, right?’
‘No one’s started it up in years. But yeah, it’s still in the garage. Maybe once I get my license, I’ll get it checked over.’
‘Is it like she’s afraid of accidents?’
‘Josie, we’ve talked about this already.’
‘Yeah, but I don’t remember. Is it because she got too scared?’
‘Something like that.’
‘My mom, she’s the reverse. Drives way too fast.’ When Rick didn’t respond, she asked: ‘Ricky, you still haven’t filled that in?’
‘I’ll get there. Just give me a moment.’
‘Not driving’s one thing. But doesn’t your mom mind not having friends?’
‘She has friends. That Mrs Rivers comes all the time. And she’s friends with your mum, isn’t she?’
‘That’s not really what I mean. Anyone can have one or two individual friends. But your mom, she doesn’t have society. My mom doesn’t have so many friends either. But she does have society.’
‘Society? That sounds rather quaint. What’s it mean?’
‘It means you walk into a store or get into a taxi and people take you seriously. Treat you well. Having society. Important, right?’
‘Look, Josie, you know my mother’s not always so well. It’s not as if she made a decision about it.’
‘But she does make decisions, right? One thing, she made a decision about you. Back whenever.’
‘I don’t know why we’re talking about this.’
‘You know what I think, Ricky? Stop me if this is unfair. I think your mom never went ahead with you because she wanted to keep you for herself. And now it’s too late.’
‘I don’t see why we’re talking about this. And what does it matter? Who wants this society anyway? None of it needs to get in the way of anything.’
‘It all gets in the way, Ricky. Gets in the way of our plan for one thing.’
‘Look, I’m doing my best…’
‘But you’re not doing your best, Ricky. You keep talking about our plan, but what really are you doing? Each day goes by we get older, stuff keeps coming up. I’m doing all I can, but not you, Rick.’
‘What am I not doing I should be doing? Going to more of your interaction meetings?’
‘You could at least try more. You could do like we said. Study harder. Try for Atlas Brookings.’
‘What’s the point in talking about Atlas Brookings? I don’t even have an outside chance.’
‘Of course you’ve got a chance, Ricky. You’re smart. Even my mom says you stand a chance.’
‘A theoretical chance. Atlas Brookings may make a big thing of it, but it’s less than two percent. That’s all. Their intake of unlifteds is less than two percent.’
‘But you’re smarter than any of the other unlifteds trying to get in. So why won’t you go for it? I’ll tell you. It’s because your mom wants you to stay with her forever. She doesn’t want you going out there and turning into a real adult. Hey, are you still not finished down there? The next one’s ready.’
Rick was silent, gazing at the picture. Josie, despite her announcement, continued to add to her picture.
‘Anyway,’ she went on, ‘how’s this going to work? Our plan, I mean. How’s it going to work if I’ve got society and you haven’t? My mom drives too fast. But at least she’s got courage. It goes wrong with Sal, but even after that she finds the courage to go ahead with me all over again. That takes courage, right?’
Rick suddenly leaned forward and started to write on the picture. He often used a magazine to press on, but this time I could see the page was directly against his thigh, and starting to crinkle. But he went on writing quickly, then stood up, dropping his sharp pencil to the floor. Rather than hand the picture to Josie, he tossed it towards the bed, making it land on the duvet in front of her. He then stepped back till he was near the door, all the time watching her with large eyes that were both angry and fearful.
Josie turned to him in surprise. Then she put down her own sharp pencil and reached forward for the sheet. For a long moment, she looked at it with blank eyes, while Rick kept watching from the door.
‘I can’t believe you’d write this,’ she said finally. ‘Why would you do this?’
I turned around on the Button Couch, estimating the tension had reached a level that could no longer justify complete privacy. Perhaps Rick had forgotten about my presence, because my turning round appeared to startle him. His gaze came to me for a second, still filled with fear and anger, then he strode out of the room without a word. We listened to his steps going down the stairs.
Once the front door noise came, Josie yawned, threw everything off the bed and lay down on her front, as though the visit had ended like any other.
‘He can be so exhausting sometimes,’ she said into her pillow.
I came off the Button Couch and began to tidy the room. Josie’s eyes stayed closed, and she said nothing more, but I could tell she hadn’t fallen asleep. As I went on tidying, I naturally glanced at the sheet that had caused the tension.
As expected, the picture showed versions of Josie and Rick. There were many inaccuracies, but also enough resemblances to leave no doubt about the intended identities. Picture Josie and Picture Rick appeared to be floating in the sky, the trees, roads and houses far below reduced to miniature sizes. Behind them, in one section of sky, were seven birds flying in formation. Picture Josie was holding up with two hands a much larger bird, offering it as a special gift to Picture Rick. Picture Josie had a large smile, and Picture Rick a look of thrilled amazement.
There was no bubble for Picture Rick. The only one was for Picture Josie’s thoughts, and inside it Rick had written:
‘I wish I could go out and walk and run and skateboard and swim in lakes. But I can’t because my mother has Courage. So instead I get to stay in bed and be sick. I’m glad about this. I really am.’
I added this picture to the collection I was gathering in my hands, making sure it wasn’t near the top. Josie remained quiet and still, her eyes closed, but I knew she wasn’t asleep. In the days before Morgan’s Falls I would perhaps have spoken to her at this point, and Josie would have responded with honesty. But the mood between us was different now, and so I decided to say nothing. I went to the dressing table, reached down and placed this latest pile beside the others in the space underneath.
Rick didn’t come back the next day or the day after. But when Melania Housekeeper asked, ‘Where boy go? Get sick?’ Josie just shrugged and said nothing.
As the days continued and there was still no visit from Rick, Josie grew more quiet, and her signals became keep away ones. She still continued with her drawings in bed, but without Rick and the bubble game, her enthusiasm would quickly drain away, and often she’d toss unfinished pictures onto the floor, stretch out on the bed and stare at the ceiling.
One afternoon when she’d been staring in this way, I said to her: ‘If you liked, Josie, we could play the bubble game. If Josie would draw the pictures, I’d do my best to think of suitable words.’
She went on staring up at the air. Then she turned and said: ‘Look. That’s just not going to work. I don’t mind you listening in. But there’s no way you could do that instead of Rick. No way at all.’
‘I see. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have suggested…’
‘No. You shouldn’t have.’
As more days passed without a Rick visit, Josie grew lethargic, and I was concerned she was also growing weak again. It occurred to me this was the ideal time for the Sun to send his special help, and whenever his pattern in the bedroom altered suddenly, or when he burst out in the sky following an overcast spell, I’d watch with particular keenness. But though he continued unfailingly to send his normal nourishment, his special help didn’t come.
One morning I returned to the bedroom after taking down her breakfast tray, and found her propped up on her pillows, sketching busily with something like her old enthusiasm. She also had a serious expression I’d not seen before while working on a picture, and when I tried to make conversation, she didn’t reply. Once, as I was tidying the room and came near the bed, she adjusted her posture to prevent me glimpsing any part of her sheet.
After a time she tore out the page, screwed it into a tight ball and dropped it into a crevice in her duvet between herself and the wall. She then began a fresh drawing, her eyes large and tense. I sat on the Button Couch, this time facing towards her so she would know I was ready to converse whenever she wished to do so.
After almost an hour, she put down her sharp pencil and stared at her picture for some time.
‘Klara? See down there, bottom left drawer? Could you get me an envelope? One of the large padded ones?’
As I was crouching down by the drawer, I saw Josie raise her sharp pencil again, and from its movements I knew she was no longer drawing, but writing words. Then she folded the picture down the middle, placing a blank sheet between the halves to prevent smudging, took the padded envelope from me and carefully slid the picture inside. Peeling off the thin paper tape, she sealed the envelope, pressing its edge to make sure.
‘Glad that’s done,’ she said, turning the envelope in her hands as though it brought her comfort to do so. But as I began to move away from the bed, she suddenly held it towards me. ‘Would you put this in the same drawer you found the envelope? Lower left?’
‘Of course.’ I took it from her, but didn’t go immediately to the drawer. Instead I stood in the middle of the room, holding the envelope, and looked at her. ‘I wonder if this picture is a special gift from Josie to Rick.’
‘What makes you say that?’
‘It was just an estimate.’
‘Well, your estimate’s right. I wanted it to be for Rick. For when he next comes here.’
There was silence while she watched me, and I was uncertain if she was simply impatient for me to place the envelope in the drawer as she’d requested, or if she was waiting for me to say something more about Rick and his visits. In the end I said:
‘Perhaps he’ll come again soon.’
‘Perhaps he will. No sign of it though.’
‘I think Rick will be pleased to see the picture. He’ll see Josie took special care with it.’
‘I didn’t take special care.’ She flashed angry eyes. ‘I got bored and drew another picture. That’s all. But you’re right. It’s for Rick. Problem is, he’d have to come here to get it. And he doesn’t come any more.’
She went on staring at me. I remained standing in the middle of the room.
‘Josie,’ I said after a while. ‘If you like, I could take the drawing to him.’
Her eyes became surprised and also excited. ‘You mean, you’ll take it over to him? To his house?’
‘Yes. It’s only the neighbor house after all.’
‘I guess it wouldn’t be so weird you taking this to him. Other people’s AFs go on errands all the time, right?’
‘I’d be happy to go. I believe I’ll be able to find the correct trail to his house.’
‘And would you do it today? Before lunch?’
‘Whenever Josie wishes. If you like, I could take it to him now. Right away.’
‘You think that’s a good idea?’
I raised the padded envelope slightly. ‘I’d very much like to take Josie’s picture to Rick. It would be good for me to explore the outside. And if Rick receives this special picture, he may forgive Josie and be her best friend again.’
‘What do you mean, “forgive”? It’s for me to forgive him. That’s really dumb, Klara. I don’t think I want you to take this to him now.’
‘I’m sorry. It’s my error. I don’t understand yet the rules about forgiveness. Even so I think it will be best to take him the picture. I think he’d like it.’
Her anger faded from her face. ‘Okay. Go ahead. Take it.’ Then as I turned, she added quietly: ‘You’re probably right. I guess it is him who needs to forgive me.’
‘I’ll take it to him and we can see what he does.’
‘Okay.’ Then she smiled. ‘If he’s rude about it, you just tear it up, right?’ Her smile was almost like the smiles from before Morgan’s Falls. I smiled too then, and said: ‘I hope that won’t be necessary.’
She fell back onto her pillow in a jokey way. ‘Okay, go. I need a rest now.’
But as I was leaving the bedroom, the padded envelope held closely to me, she said suddenly: ‘Hey, Klara?’
‘Yes?’
‘It must be dull, right? Living here with a sick kid.’
She was still smiling, but I saw fear beneath the smile.
‘It’s never dull to be with Josie.’
‘You waited all that time for me in the store. I bet you’re wishing now you’d gone with some other kid.’
‘I’ve never wished such a thing. It was my wish to be Josie’s AF. And the wish came true.’
‘Yeah, but…’ She made a small laughing sound full of sadness. ‘But that was before you got here. I promised it would be great.’
‘I’m very happy here. I have no wish other than to be Josie’s AF.’
‘If I get better, we can go outside together all the time. We could go to the city, see my dad. Maybe he could take us to the other cities.’
‘Those are possibilities for the future. But Josie must know. I couldn’t have a better home than this one. Or a better child than Josie. I’m so glad I waited. That Manager allowed me to wait.’
Josie thought about this. Then when she smiled again, it was full of kindness, with no fear behind it. ‘So we’re friends, right? Best friends.’
‘Yes, of course.’
‘Okay. Good. So remember. Don’t take any shit from Rick.’
I smiled too then, and held up the padded envelope to show I would take good care of it.
Melania Housekeeper expressed no objection to my going alone on an errand to Rick’s house. Nevertheless, as I crossed the loose stones towards the picture frame gate, she remained at the front door watching me, and only as I stepped into the first field did she go back inside.
I followed the informal trail and the ground soon became hard to predict, a soft step often coming straight after a hard one. The grass came up to my shoulders, and a fear entered my mind that I would lose my bearings. But this part of the field had been divided into orderly boxes, so that as I passed from one box into the next, I was able to see clearly those lined up ahead of me. Less helpful was the way the grass frequently sprang across me from one side or the other, but even this I quickly learned to control by holding out an arm. If I’d had both arms free, I’d have made even faster progress, but of course I was holding Josie’s envelope in one hand and couldn’t risk harming it. Then the tall grass finished around me and I was standing in front of Rick’s house.
While viewing from a distance, I’d already estimated that Rick’s house wasn’t as high-rank as Josie’s. Now I could see that many of its white paint boards had become gray – even brown in some places – and three of the windows were dark rectangles with no curtains or blinds within them. I went up a stairway of planks, each one bending under my tread, then onto a platform constructed from more such planks, this time with gaps between them through which I could see the muddy ground below. Near the house front door, pushed over to one side, was a refrigerator, its back fully exposed to passers-by, and I saw how spiders had made their homes within the complicated metal bracing. I’d paused to observe their delicate cobwebs when the front door opened – though I hadn’t pressed any button – and Rick came out onto the platform.
‘Excuse me,’ I said quickly. ‘I didn’t wish to take your privacy. I came on an important errand.’
He didn’t seem angry, but said nothing and went on watching me.
‘AFs often do important errands,’ I said. ‘Josie sent me on this one.’ I raised the envelope.
Excitement appeared suddenly in Rick’s face, then vanished again. ‘It’s good you came then,’ he said.
Perhaps he expected me simply to hand him the envelope, then go away. But I’d anticipated this possibility and made no move to offer it to him. We went on standing on the planks like that, facing one another, the wind moving through the gaps.
‘In that case,’ he said eventually, ‘I suppose you ought to come in. Be warned. It’s not fancy in here.’
The hallway had a dark wood floor, and we walked past an open trunk in which items such as broken lamps and single shoes had been placed. Rick led the way into a large room with a wide window looking out over the fields. The furniture wasn’t modern, and didn’t interconnect like that in the Open Plan: there was a heavy dark wardrobe, floor rugs with faded patterns, hard and soft chairs in different shapes and sizes. Of the many small pictures on the walls, some were photographs, others drawn by sharp pencil, and here too spiders had made homes in the corners of frames. There were books, round-face clocks, low tables. I could see navigation wouldn’t be easy, so selected a spot where the floor was relatively open, went to it and stood there with my back to the wide window.
‘Okay, so this is where we live,’ Rick said. ‘My mother and me.’
‘It’s kind of you to allow me in.’
‘I was watching you coming from upstairs. I’ll need to go back up soon.’ He gestured with just his eyes towards the ceiling. Then he said with sadness: ‘I suppose you noticed the smell.’
‘I’m not able to smell.’
‘Oh sorry, I didn’t realize. I assumed smell would be an important faculty. I mean for safety. Burning, things like that.’
‘Perhaps for that reason B3s have been given limited smell. But I have none.’
‘Well that’s lucky for you just now. Because this place still smells. Even though I did the hall this morning. Did it over and over and over.’ Tears had appeared in his eyes, but he went on looking at me.
‘Rick’s mother isn’t well?’
‘You could say that. Though she’s not sick in the way Josie’s sick. I’d rather not talk about Mum if you don’t mind. How’s Josie these days?’
‘I’m afraid she’s no better.’
‘Worse?’
‘Perhaps not worse. But I believe her condition may be a very serious one.’
‘That’s what I was thinking.’ He sighed and sat down on the sofa facing me. ‘So she sent you here on an errand.’
‘Yes. She wanted me to give you this. She worked especially hard on it.’
I held out the envelope in such a way that he could receive it while still sitting on the sofa. But he rose to his feet, even though he’d only just sat down, and, taking the envelope, opened it carefully.
He gazed at the picture for some time, his face on the edge of smiling. ‘Rick and Josie forever,’ he said finally.
‘Is that what it says? Inside the bubble?’
‘Oh, I thought you’d seen it.’
‘Josie put it in the envelope without showing me.’
He went on looking at it for another moment, then turned the drawing for me to see.
It was unlike any I’d seen during the bubble games. Much of the sheet was filled with sharp-looking objects, many with angry protruding points, that had become tangled together into an impenetrable mesh. Josie had used pencils of many colors to create the mesh, but its overall effect was dark and forbidding. However, a clear tranquil space had been kept in the lower left-hand corner, where the figures of two small people could be seen, their backs to passers-by, walking away hand in hand. They were too stick-like to be identifiable other than as a boy and girl, but they seemed happy and lacking worries. There was a bubble just above them, but because it was without the usual tail or bubble dots, the words inside seemed more like a poster slogan, or taxi door ad, than the thoughts from either person’s mind.
‘So what do you think?’ he asked.
‘It’s very nice. I think it’s a kind picture.’
‘Yes. I suppose it is. And a kind message.’
Suddenly music and electronic voices came loudly from upstairs and annoyance appeared in Rick’s face. He rushed out of the room, still holding Josie’s picture.
‘Mum!’ he shouted out in the hall. ‘Mum! For God’s sake turn that down please!’
A voice from upstairs said something, then Rick called up more gently: ‘I’ll come up in a minute. Now please. Turn it down.’
The electronic sounds grew quieter, and when Rick came back into the large room, he was again looking at Josie’s picture.
‘Yes, it’s a kind picture. Say thanks to Josie for me.’
‘I think Josie was hoping Rick would come in person to say thank you.’
His smile faded. ‘But it’s not that simple, is it?’ he said. ‘You’re always there, taking it all in. So you know as well as I do. The way she keeps getting at me. There’s no reason a person has to take all that. She pushes it too far, then thinks it can all be fixed with a nice picture. Send the AF over with it. Well she has to understand. Things aren’t always that easily fixed.’
‘If Rick came to visit once more, I believe Josie may wish to apologize.’
‘Really? Look, I know Josie and my guess is she’s pretty convinced I’m the one who needs to do the apologizing.’
‘Josie and I have already had that very discussion. I believe she’s wishing to apologize to Rick.’
‘I suppose I was out of order too. But she can’t just keep saying all that about my mum. It’s not fair. My mother’s doing her best and she’s getting better.’
Although the version of Rick who’d opened the door and faced me on the platform had been much like the one who’d ignored me throughout his visits, it was interesting to see he’d now become much closer to the person I’d talked to at the interaction meeting after the other children had gone outside. In fact it was almost as if this version of Rick was meeting me for the first time since that afternoon and continuing the conversation we’d then started.
‘I agree Josie’s words were sometimes unkind,’ I said. ‘But that might be because Josie feels Rick’s mother holds Rick too closely. Too closely to allow Rick and Josie’s plan to become possible in the future.’
‘But why does Josie blame Mum all the time? It’s not fair.’
‘Josie worries about the plan. I think she believes Rick’s mother is reluctant to let Rick go because she fears the loneliness that would result for her.’
‘Look, you might be a very intelligent AF. But there’s a lot you don’t know. If you only ever listen to Josie’s side of things, you’ll never get the whole picture. And it’s not just about Mum. Josie’s always trying to trap me now.’
‘Trap you?’
‘You must have heard. She’s always doing it now. Either she accuses me of thinking about that stuff too much. Or she’s offended because I don’t think about her enough in that way. Always trapping me, whatever I say. She claims I’m always lusting after these girls I can see on my DS, then the next time she brings it up, and I don’t react, she says there’s something wrong with me, I’m not being natural. She keeps talking about how we knew each other too well when we were children and so the whole sex thing might not even work with us. Whatever I try to say or do, it’s wrong and I get trapped. And the way she goes on about Mum. It’s going too far. Plan or no plan, that’s just not fair.’
He sat down again, the Sun’s pattern falling across him. He placed Josie’s drawing carefully on the sofa space beside him, and though the sheet was face down, kept staring at it.
‘Anyway,’ he said quietly, ‘Josie’s ill now. None of this, our plan, none of it will count if she doesn’t get better soon. And the way it’s going…I don’t know what to think these days.’ He looked up at me. ‘Look, Klara. You’re supposed to be super-intelligent. So what’s your, you know, estimate? How ill is Josie?’
‘I believe, as I’ve said, that Josie’s illness is serious. It’s possible she could become so weak she will have to pass away, just as her sister did. But I believe there’s a way for her to become well again that the adults haven’t yet considered. I believe also that the situation is now urgent and we can’t keep waiting. Even if it seems rude, and taking privacy, it’s perhaps time to be active. I came here today, of course, because of my important errand. But I was also hoping Rick would give me some useful advice.’
‘You’re super-intelligent and I’m an idiot kid who hasn’t even been lifted. But okay. If you want, I’ll try and give you advice. Fire away.’
‘I wish to go across the fields to Mr McBain’s barn. I think Rick has been there at least once. Josie told me about it.’
‘You mean that barn over there? We did go there once when we were pretty young still. Before she got ill. I’ve been there other times since, just on my own. It’s nothing special. A place to sit in the shade if you happen to be taking a walk out there. How’s that going to help Josie?’
‘I shouldn’t confide just now, in case it’s necessarily a secret. I may even be taking things too far simply by going to Mr McBain’s barn. But I feel I must now try.’
‘You want to speak to Mr McBain? About Josie’s health? You’d be lucky to run into him out there. He lives five miles away on his main spread. Hardly ever comes around here these days.’
‘It wasn’t Mr McBain I wished to talk to. But please, I mustn’t confide or we’ll risk the special help Josie may yet receive. All I wish from Rick is some useful advice.’ I turned myself until we were both looking out of the wide window. ‘Please tell me. Is there an informal trail through the grass that will take me to the barn, like the one that brought me here to Rick’s house?’
He rose to his feet and walked to the window. ‘There’s a path of sorts. It’s easier some days than others. As you said yourself, it’s informal. No one keeps it specially cleared or anything. Sometimes you go that way and everything’s overgrown. But if one path’s blocked or soaked, you can usually find another. There’s always some way through, even in the winter.’ He was suddenly looking me up and down, as if regarding me in earnest for the first time. ‘I don’t know much about AFs. So I don’t know how hard it’ll be for you. If you want, I could come with you. If it’s really going to help Josie, though we’re not even speaking just now, I’d be pleased to help.’
‘That’s very kind of Rick. But I think I’d better go alone. As I say, there’s a possibility…’
‘Oh God…’ Rick suddenly turned and moved towards the door.
