LEONARD MICHAELS
"You're joking."
"No . Lunchtime is when I write."
"What are you writing?"
"A sentence."
"Can I read it?"
545
"You won't believe this-and you'd be perfectly right not
to- but the other day I thought I'd actually written it."
"Can I read it?"
"Yes . I want your opinion. I'll show it to you in a month or so."
"After thirteen years, you lose perspective . It's probably fin-
ished. "
-
"What were you saying before?"
"A woman tears herself to pieces while I lecture . It's not impor-
tant. "
"What's her name?" he asked, glancing at his watch.
"Toiler."
"Toilet is French . What an odd name. Do you call her Miss
Toilet?"
"Toiler. Anna Toiler."
"Same word. Old French.
It
means battle, trap, trouble, one
who labors, or one who engages in litigious disputes . It's also a kind
of cloth . What else does she do?"
"Rides."
"Well, then, she's involved with drugs. Why else would she
hide?"
"Rides . Rides horses."
"I've had many students who were in the circus."
"She isn't. She's a housewife from Palo Alto . Her husband is an
engineer and a weight lifter. He beats her up . Anyway, once . That's
what she said."
"There's a pilot in my class who is from Palo Alto. I've sworn
never to tell his name."
"Why not?"
"He's a serious alcoholic. All pilots , surgeons, and judges are
drunks . You do know this is true?"
"Everyone knows."
"That's correct."
Henry stood , turned to the door, then said , "Remember our
lunch date . I must talk to you about something very important."
It occurred to me to ask what , but the door closed. I was alone.
After the next class, she waited for me outside the room, lean–
ing against a wall. She pretended to be reading through her notes .
