One evening after dinner, when Fan was sitting with Mala and Tico having a snack and tea, Miss Cathy appeared in the kitchen. She had appeared so before at night, always viewing her programs in the office. She was holding a remote, and when Mala saw this, she immediately apologized for removing the recharging deck from the office, as it was not working anymore. She said a new one would be delivered in the morning, but if Miss Cathy wanted, she could call and perhaps have it delivered tonight, but now Miss Cathy was completely unconcerned with this fact. Instead she was glaring at Fan sitting before the plate of mochi at the kitchen table as though she had committed a terrible crime.
Have you been here since we ate dinner?
Yes, Fan said. I often help clean up.
I thought you went to your room to study or watch. That’s always where I find you.
Fan told her she did, usually right around now. At this point Tico excused himself to give Mister Leo his bath.
I thought you were in your room, Miss Cathy said, with a sharpness that officially ended the conversation. She dropped the remote on the island and left.
When Fan went up to her bedroom, Miss Cathy was already there, waiting for her. Usually Miss Cathy came in and sat down on the bed, and they briefly talked about what Fan was doing, either in her studies or the program she was watching, though never for very long. She was not terribly interested in the details Fan offered, as Mala always was; it was simply about their convening before each retired for the night, checking in, as a mother would, to make sure her child was comfortable and happy and ready for sleep. But of course, Miss Cathy would take the many extra steps of inspecting Fan’s hands and nails and teeth and hair, the soles of her feet and toes, to make sure she was as clean as could be, though still rarely touching her. In fact, she almost never did, except for that first time they did their scrubbing, nor did she ever caress or embrace her.
But that night she did, gesturing Fan forward and hugging her; she even kissed Fan on the forehead, her lips dry and cool. She pressed Fan to her chest for what seemed a very long time. And then the woman took a step back and beheld her, with what to Fan could only be described as a great welling of satisfaction and pride.
We’re finally getting to know each other, aren’t we? Miss Cathy said.
Yes, answered Fan.
We want to be happy, don’t we?
Fan nodded.
As happy as we can be?
Again she nodded.
And do you know, Fan, how we can make that happen?
No, Fan said, taking a step back now, from the wildness in the woman’s eyes.
It’s how it always happens. You’re young, but I think you know. It’s this way: We make our special place. Our very own little spot. Our little world. Where we’ll live with one mind and heart. Do you understand me?
Fan said she did, though this time just with her eyes.
Oh, Fan, you’ve done so well here!
Miss Cathy leaped forward and embraced her tightly enough that Fan nearly became faint, her face jammed between the woman’s plush breasts, which smelled of nervous dampness, a fast souring.
I’m so proud of you. Everything’s changed since you’ve come!
Fan figured she was referring to Mister Leo, and that she had somehow spurred Miss Cathy to do something finally, though seeing the woman’s heightened, almost disordered, expression, it wasn’t clear this was what she meant at all.
Miss Cathy asked her if she wanted to take one of her “friends” with her, namely one of the many dolls and stuffed animals she bought for Fan on their sprees.
Where are we going? Fan asked.
To my place, Miss Cathy said. You’ve not been there yet but I know you’ll like it. We have a special spot for you.
Fan shook her head but Miss Cathy did not notice, or did not want to, and simply cupped Fan’s shoulder and walked her down the length of the house, to the far end, where she and Mister Leo had had their separate suites. There were double doors to each, and when Miss Cathy touched the knob, there was a click and they entered through the doors on the right, which automatically locked behind them. The suite was an immense multichambered room, the first part of which was furnished with a loveseat and armchairs and coffee table. Next was the bedroom, where Miss Cathy’s king-sized bed was made up with fancy linens and abundant throws and shams. Beyond the bed was another entire section of the suite behind curtained glass French doors, which Fan assumed was where the dressing room and bathroom were. Miss Cathy led her around the bed. On the far side was a young child’s mattress on a low steel platform, short enough in length that Fan’s own feet might hang over its edge. It was made up very plainly, with just a white sheet and a thin gray-brown flannel blanket, which made it seem almost penal, particularly in contrast to the opulence and great size of the bed beside it.
Miss Cathy was almost teary-eyed, she was so pleased with the sight.
This is where you’ll stay, she beamed. Right next to me. No one else but you for the next three days. It’ll be so nice.
I prefer to stay in my own room, Fan told her. Or else downstairs with Mala.
That’s no longer possible, Miss Cathy said. This is your place now. We’d like to keep you.
You and Mala?
Mala? Miss Cathy said, her voice gone totally cold. Mala has nothing to do with anything.
That’s when a giggling could be heard coming from behind the curtained French doors. There was a tiny knock. Miss Cathy said, Yes, dear, and the door opened. It was one of the girls from Mala’s viewer, though a few years aged. She wore a simple white cotton nightshirt with an embroidered collar, rustic and old-fashioned. A second girl came out, wearing the same, though she was much taller and older. And then another followed, and another, until it was all seven of the girls Fan had seen in the album. Some were grown women, twice as broad as the youngest. But something was different about all of them, and not just that they had grown older. All of their eyes were huge and shaped in the same way, half-moons set on the straight side, like band shells but darkened, their pupils being brown. They were all giggling now, shoulders scrunched, their high pitch cutesy and saccharine. They crowded about Fan, bright of teeth. They smelled laundered and dryer-fresh. And now one of them was gently touching her face, others her hair, the rest clasping her arms, her hands, already vining themselves through her, snatching Fan up.
17
Whenever we tell the story of Fan, details are apt to change. You don’t mean to alter anything; in fact, your intention is the very opposite, you want nothing more than to be an echo of the previous speaker, who, you decide, did a perfectly super job. And try as you might to match the very tone of the telling, the bellow of certain episodes and the half-breathed whisper of others, isn’t it the truth that, despite your fealty to the story, a moment will arise that compels a freelancing, perhaps even rebellious, urge?
Of course, those moments will vary depending on who you are. Like everyone else, we have a sensitivity to particular incidents, which can strike a nerve. For example, when we hear about Miss Cathy’s girls surrounding Fan, we’re as startled as anyone else, the same hard knot instantly twisting in our chests as in yours; and yet we can’t help but add a little of our own special imprint, a tiny re-marking here, a slight miscoloration there, and sometimes even more than that if the feeling is intense enough.
For what comes to us when we picture Fan’s last circumstance is not solely worry or fright or repulsion but also a fascination with this unlikely gathering, which, we are quite sure now, did not alarm Fan as much as one might assume. And why not? The Girls were only nice to her. She was certainly in shock when they appeared and quickly conveyed her back into their room behind the curtain, helping her change out of her regular clothing into a nightshirt exactly matching theirs, even squeezing toothpaste onto a new toothbrush and placing it in her hand. They brushed her hair and washed her feet and lightly misted her with a fruity, candy-sweet perfume. She would sleep in the bed next to Miss Cathy’s bed for several nights before moving in with them, after which they would resume their nightly schedule of taking a turn to sleep in the bed outside.