Human Sister

Michael requested that I pretend to be Elio so that he could practice greeting him. I went out through Gatekeeper, then came back in, put on a kimono in the dressing antechamber, and walked out to greet Michael.
    He stood strangely erect and said, “Hi, Elio.”
    “Hi, Michael! I’m so happy to meet you.”
    Michael stepped stiffly forward and stuck out his hand to shake.
    “I don’t think Elio likes to shake hands,” I said.
    “Oh!” Michael responded, jerking back his hand.
    “He likes to hug his friends.”
    “Let’s try again,” Michael said, shooing me back to the antechamber.
    I went back and reentered. We said our greetings, stepped toward each other, moved our arms up and down, trying to find a fit—then we both froze. Moments later, as Michael began to cry, I realized there was no prescribed way to hug. Years earlier, when Michael began walking, I stood only a little over half his height, so we became accustomed to hugging by having me wrap my arms around his midsection and by having him place his arms over my shoulders and back. As I grew taller, we continued hugging in this manner.
    In contrast, Michael had always hugged Grandpa and Grandma, who were both taller than he, by wrapping his arms around their waists as their arms went over his arms and around his torso. And to complicate matters even further, Elio and I hugged by having him wrap his arms around my waist while I slipped my arms up over his shoulders and around his neck.
    “Please don’t be upset,” I said, hugging Michael in our accustomed way.
    “I want Elio to like me.”
    “Elio will like you. I’m sure he will. Just relax.”
    “But I don’t know how to become a friend. People meet many others, but only a few become friends. What is the process? What if Elio doesn’t pick me?”
    “The probability of Elio’s liking you is extremely high.”
    “How can you know that?”
    “I know both of you intimately. Each of you wants to like the other, and each of you wants the other to like you. Just look at yourself right now. I’m sure Elio has similar anxieties about your liking him.”
    “But what is the process of becoming friends? I don’t know what to do.”
    “There’s no formal process. It happens naturally. You both share many of the same interests. All you have to do is relax, be yourself, treat him kindly and with respect, as Grandpa said, even if some of what he does seems strange or misguided to you at first. If you do those things, I’m all but certain he’ll become your friend.”
    “But look, we can’t even figure out how to hug.”
    Concern welled up in me: Would these two very different people whom I loved like each other? There was, I knew, an elusive ingredient in the feeling one gets when one first meets another.
    “Of course, we’ll figure out how to hug,” I said. I let go of him and stepped back, trying to remember how Elio hugged Luuk. “That’s it! Each raises his right arm over the other’s left shoulder. Simultaneously, each wraps his left arm around the other’s midsection—and they hug. Let’s try.”

First Brother

    T he gate in the fence surrounding the house is open. She breaks the pace of her walk as the dog runs through the gate ahead of her. She walks to the door of the house and presses on a button. No sound associated with that of doorbells is detected.
    She raps on the door with the knuckles of her right hand. She pauses. She again raps on the door four times, though with approximately 50 percent more force than before. Seventeen seconds pass. She shouts: “Hello! Anyone home?”
    She turns the doorknob and pushes. The door turns on its hinges. Through an approximately 10 centimeter opening she calls: “Hello! My name is Sara Jensen. Are you okay?”
    She waits 8 seconds. “I don’t see or hear anyone anywhere. I’m really frightened.”
    She waits 11 seconds. “The front door is unlocked. I’m coming in to see if you’re all right. Is that okay?”
    She turns, leans her back against the doorframe, closes her eyes and moans, then looks out over the yard, the estuary, and beyond.

Sara

    S hortly after Grandpa returned from his trip to see Aunt Lynh and Elio, he was told that Berkeley’s chancellor had attended a party that was also attended by a woman, Diane Dorner, who was an elder of the ERP and also a university regent. The chancellor had made a remark about special admission for a bright young man related to Professor Jensen. Regent Dorner had replied that