546
PARTISAN REVIEW
As I approached, she glanced up and smiled. Again, instinctively, I
began to gaze; to study her.
She wore the same suit with a white shirt and thin black tie.
She looked mannish, severe, and pretty.
"Would you like to have coffee? I'll buy it this time."
I couldn't remember saying yes or no, but I was in a coffee
shop. As we talked, she didn't touch her face or neck. She'd been
good in class, too, sitting very still throughout the hour. I'd forgotten
she was there. I wondered if, somehow, I'd cured her of the tic by
talking to her; seeming flirtatious. The sexual juices have healing
powers. She said, "I won't be able to meet you after class next time. I
go to my doctor."
The remark seemed a little strange. I hadn't asked her to meet
me. I hadn't assumed these meetings had become an institution. But
she missed the next class and the one after that. When she missed the
third, I stopped thinking about her. It's easy to forget a student. First
the name, then the face. Over the years whole classes go from mem–
ory, as if you'd been alone talking to yourself, hallucinating amid the
flow of academic seasons. Thales, the first philosopher, said every–
thing is water.
Then Bluma phoned and stopped the flow. "What happened to
your student, Tiller?"
"Toiler."
"Toiler, Tiller. Same name. What happened with her?"
"She dropped the class, I think."
"I don't blame her. I wouldn't take your class in the first place."
"You wouldn't?"
"And I'd throw you out of mine."
"Because of my character disorder?"
"Because of everything. Listen, there's more important things
to talk about. I heard a new joke."
"I heard one, too."
"Want to tell yours first?"
"You first."
"How can I tell it if you're thinking about your joke?"
"I won't think."
"Then you'll forget your joke and it'll be my fault."
"Tell me your joke. I need a laugh."
"In New York they have a number you can call for a joke."
"It's a desperate city."
"Do you want the number?"
