Partners

Enter,” she says, and is obeyed.

He’s taller than before, or perhaps he only seems taller now that he’s here, in the house. She walks behind him, moving toward the living room, and wonders if he might be too tall for her house. It soon dawns on her that she’ll have to teach him the necessary rooms and objects.

The best part about having one at home, her friend Claire once said, is you stop thinking; just imagine, with them walking around and taking up so much space, you can’t spend the day turning things over in your head. They make you pay attention.

She teaches him the living room furniture. “Table,” she says. “Chairs. Dinner table.” He studies each one, surely memorizing. “Kitchen. Stove top. Dishes.” He follows her silently, until she says, “Your bedroom,” then his face twists into an expression of incomprehension, or at least a detailed imitation of incomprehension: well executed but with a strange aftereffect, less an expression than the echo of an expression.

She smiles nervously and says again, “Your bedroom.” They had explained, and Claire confirmed, that if anything didn’t work all she had to do was repeat what she wanted slowly and clearly; sometimes in the first few