Dz‡ŽŽǡ™Šƒ–ǯ••‘‡‘‡•—’’‘•‡†–‘•ƒ›™Š‡–Š‡›ˆ‹†‘—––Š‡‹” …Žƒ••ƒ–‡‹•‰‘‹‰–‘†‹‡•‘‘ǫdz She hummed in –Š‘—‰Š–ǤDzǯ†’”‘„ƒ„Ž›„‡–‘‘•–—‡†–‘•ƒ› ƒ›–Š‹‰Ǥdz Dz‹‰Š–Ǥ‡ƒŽŽ›ǡ›‘—•Š‘—Ž†„‡‹’”‡••‡†ƒƒ‰‡†–‘•ƒ›ƒ›–Š‹‰ƒ– ƒŽŽǤdz Dz ‘‘†’‘‹–ǡdz•Š‡•ƒ‹†™‹–Šƒ‰‹‰‰Ž‡Ǥ†‹†ǯ–•‡‡™Šƒ–•Š‡ˆ‘—†•‘ funny. With that, she took back her book and waved goodbye. Before leaving ˆ‘”–Š‡‡šƒ‹ƒ–‹‘”‘‘•ǡ•Š‡•ƒ‹†ǡDzǯ‡‡’‹‰‹–ƒ•‡…”‡–ˆ”‘ ‡˜‡”›„‘†›ǡ•‘†‘ǯ––‡ŽŽƒ›‘‡‹…Žƒ••ǡ‘ƒ›ǫdz After she left, I mostly felt relief, confident this would be the end of our interaction. But then the next morning, she came up to me in the hallway to say hi. And then, worse yet, she volunteered to join the student librariansȄrather, student librarian, I should say, as the students in our school were free to decide our own activities, and up —–‹Ž‘™ǡ™ƒ•–Š‡‘Ž›‘‡™Š‘ǯ† …Š‘•‡–‘™‘”‹–Š‡Ž‹„”ƒ”›Ǥ†‹†ǯ–—†‡”•–ƒ†™Šƒ–”‡ƒ•‘•Š‡Šƒ†–‘ Œ‘‹‡ǡ„—–ǯ†ƒŽ™ƒ›•„‡‡–Š‡–›’‡–‘Œ—•–‰‘™Š‡”‡–Š‡ˆŽ‘™–‘‘‡ǡƒ† †‹†ǯ–’—–—’ƒˆ‹‰Š–Ǥ—–‹ˆ—ŽŽ›ǡ–ƒ—‰Š––Š‡‡™Ž‹„”ƒ”‹ƒŠ‘™–o do our work. *** Arguably, it was that single paperback journal that led me to stand outside the train station at eleven on Sunday morning. You never can know what will act as a trigger. ™ƒ•Ž‹‡ƒ„‘ƒ–ƒ†‡‘ˆ”‡‡†•ǡˆŽ‘™‹‰™‹–ŠŽ‹ˆ‡ǯ•…—””‡–•ǡ‡ver one –‘–—”ƒ‰ƒ‹•–ƒ•–”‘‰ˆ‘”…‡Ǥ‘†‹†ǯ–”‡Œ‡…–Š‡”‹˜‹–ƒ–‹‘Ȅnot that she gave me an opening to reject itȄand here I was at the meeting place. I supposed I could have stood her up, but if I wronged her, it would have only given her something to hold over me, and who knew what she would demand of me then. Unlike me, she was an icebreaker ship steering whichever way she pleased. To oppose her head-on would be unwise. The sculpture in front of the station was a popular meeting place in our town. I arrived there five minutes early; she showed up right on time.