Klara and the Sun

‘And you want to find this machine now?’

‘Yes. And to destroy it.’

‘Because it causes Pollution.’

‘It’s a terrible machine.’ I was leaning forward, already looking left and right.

‘And how exactly do you intend to destroy it?’

‘I’m not certain. This is why I wished to be frank with Mr Paul. I’m requesting his help. Mr Paul is an expert engineer, as well as an adult.’

‘You’re asking me how to vandalize a machine?’

‘But first we must find it. For instance, please may we turn down this street?’

‘I can’t turn there. It’s one-way. I don’t like pollution any more than you do. But isn’t this taking things a little far?’

‘I’m unable to explain further. But Mr Paul must trust me. It’s very important for Josie’s sake. For her health.’

‘How is this going to help Josie?’

‘I’m sorry, I’m not able to explain. Mr Paul has to trust me. If we can only find the Cootings Machine and destroy it, I believe it will lead to Josie’s full recovery. Then it won’t matter about Mr Capaldi or about his portrait or how well I’m able to learn Josie.’

The Father considered this. ‘All right,’ he said eventually. ‘Let’s at least give this a try. You last saw this thing where, did you say?’

We continued to move and I spotted the RPO Building – the Fire Escapes Building beside it – rapidly approaching us. The Sun was falling behind them in the familiar way, and then we were passing the store itself. I saw again the colored bottles display and the Recessed Lighting notice, but I was so concerned I’d miss the Cootings Machine I hardly gave them attention. As we went over the pedestrian crossing, the Father said: ‘I’m wondering if this street’s taxis only. Look at them. Everywhere.’

‘This turning perhaps. Please, if possible.’

The Cootings Machine hadn’t been where I’d seen it earlier, and as the streets grew unfamiliar again, I gazed in every direction. The Sun sometimes shone brightly through the gaps between buildings, and I wondered if he was wishing to encourage me, or simply watching and monitoring my progress. When we turned into yet another street and there was again no sign of the Cootings Machine, my growing panic may have become obvious, because the Father said, in a kinder voice than any he’d so far used towards me:

‘You really believe this, don’t you? That this will help Josie.’

‘Yes. Yes, I do.’

Something seemed to change within him. He sat forward – and then, like me, he was looking left and right with urgent eyes.

‘Hope,’ he said. ‘Damn thing never leaves you alone.’ He shook his head almost resentfully, but there was now a new strength about him. ‘Okay. A vehicle, you say. One used by construction workers.’

‘It has wheels, but I don’t think it’s a vehicle as such. It needs to be towed everywhere it goes. It has Cootings written on its body and is pale yellow.’

He glanced at his watch. ‘The construction guys may have finished for the day. Let me try a few things.’

The Father began to drive more skillfully. We left behind the other vehicles, the passers-by, the storefronts, and entered the smaller streets shaded by windowless buildings, and large walls bright with cartoon writing. Sometimes the Father would stop, reverse, then steer slowly down narrow spaces beside wire-mesh fences, on the other side of which we could observe parked trucks and dirty cars.

‘See anything?’

Whenever I shook my head, he’d make the car lurch forward again, in a way that made me anxious we’d strike a fire hydrant or the corner of a building as we turned sharply around it. We looked into more yards, and once, we entered between two crookedly open gates, even though there was a sign hanging from one saying ‘Strictly No Admittance’, and drove around a yard filled with vehicles, stacked crates and a construction crane at the far end. But there was still no Cootings Machine, and the Father then took us into a shadow neighborhood with broken sidewalks and lonely passers-by. He steered into another narrow lane beside a looming Floors For Lease building, and behind this building was yet another yard bound by wire-mesh fencing.

‘There! Mr Paul, there it is!’

The Father jerk-stopped the car. The yard was on my side so I placed my head right against the window, and behind me the Father was adjusting in his seat to see better.

‘That one there? With the funnels?’

‘Yes. We’ve found it.’

I didn’t take my gaze from the Cootings Machine while the Father reversed the car slowly. Then we stopped once more.

‘That main entrance has a chain on it,’ he said. ‘But the side entrance there…’

‘Yes, the small entrance is open. A passer-by could enter on foot.’

I released the safety belt and was about to get out, but then felt the Father’s hand on my arm.

‘I wouldn’t go in there until you’ve decided exactly what you intend to do. It all looks ramshackle, but you never know. There may be alarms, there may be surveillance. You may not have time to stand around and think.’

‘Yes, you’re right.’

‘Are you quite certain you have the correct machine?’

‘Quite certain. I can see it clearly from here and there’s no doubt.’