Klara and the Sun

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.

—