Klara and the Sun

We emerged from the theater crowd, Mr Vance leading the way towards the diner, Miss Helen hurrying to walk alongside him. Rick and I followed the adults a few steps behind, and as the emptiness and cool air moved in around us, I felt my orientation returning. When I looked back, I was surprised to see how dark and quiet the street actually was, aside from the single dense cluster of people around the streetlight. In fact, as we moved ever further away, this crowd – of which I’d so recently been a part – appeared like one of those insect clouds I’d seen in the evening field, hovering against the sky, each creature within it busily changing position, anxious to find a better one, but never straying beyond the boundary of the shape they made together. I saw Josie, waving with a puzzled expression from the crowd’s edge, and the Mother, standing behind her, a hand on each of Josie’s shoulders, watching us with empty eyes.

—

The darkness grew, and the noises of the theater crowd became more faint, but I knew my observational abilities hadn’t been too badly impaired because I continued to see clearly before me the illuminated diner towards which we were walking. I could see how it was shaped like a pie segment, the sharp end pointed towards us; and how the street forked on either side of it, and how the diner’s windows ran alongside both the diverging sidewalks, so that no matter which way passers-by went, they’d be able to look into its lit interior – at the shiny leather seats, the polished tabletops, and the bright see-through counter behind which the diner manager was waiting for customers in his white apron and white cap.

With no vehicles approaching and the surrounding buildings so dark, the diner was this area’s only light source, throwing slanted shapes onto the paving stones. I wondered which side of the fork Mr Vance would choose, but as we came closer, I noticed a door just at the pointed corner itself. The only reason I hadn’t spotted it earlier, I supposed, was because the door so resembled the diner’s windows – it was made mostly of glass and had painted writing going across it. Mr Vance opened the door, then stood aside to allow Miss Helen to go in first.

When I came in behind Rick a moment later, I found the lighting so strong and yellow I couldn’t immediately adjust to it. Only gradually did I make out the slices of fruit pie, each one shaped like the diner itself, displayed inside the see-through counter, and the Diner Manager – a large black-skinned man – standing very still behind it, his face fixed away from me. I then realized he was watching Mr Vance and Miss Helen as they chose their booth and settled themselves into it, facing one another.

I saw Rick’s figure cross the shiny floor and sit down beside his mother. As I did so, Josie’s parting words to me returned to my mind, and I wondered what important matter the Mother wished to discuss with her at the Friend’s Apartment, and why my absence was necessary.

Miss Helen and Mr Vance continued to gaze at each other silently for the entire time it took me to go over to them. I didn’t feel I knew Mr Vance well enough to sit beside him. Also, he was sitting midway across the seat intended for two, and I could see I wouldn’t be able to take my seat without disturbing his comfort. So instead I sat down alone in the neighboring booth across the aisle.

Mr Vance finally stopped gazing at Miss Helen and, turning in his seat, called out instructions to the Diner Manager. Only then did it occur to me that though there were no customers but us, all the tables and seats had been carefully made ready in case others came in. I thought then that this Diner Manager might be lonely, or at least that he was lonely while he was in his diner, illuminated on both sides to anyone passing by in the night.

‘Sir?’ Rick said. ‘I’m very grateful you’re giving up time for me. And that you’re even considering helping me.’

‘You know, Rick,’ Mr Vance said dreamily, ‘I haven’t seen this mother of yours for quite some time.’

‘I appreciate that, sir. And you’ve never even met me before, except once fleetingly when I was two or something. So that makes this all the more generous of you, agreeing to see me like this. But then Mum’s always saying how generous a person you are.’

‘I’m relieved your mother’s been speaking well of me. Maybe she’s told you one or two negative things also?’

‘Oh no. My mother’s only ever spoken of you positively.’

‘Is that so? And all these years I’ve thought…Well, never mind. Helen, I’m already impressed by this boy of yours.’

Miss Helen had been watching Mr Vance carefully. ‘I need hardly tell you, Vance, how grateful I am also. I’d thank you at greater length, but this is Rick’s chance and I’m not wishing to speak on his behalf.’

‘That’s well said, Helen. So Rick. Why don’t you tell me what this is about?’