Free The History of Love by Nicole Krauss Page A

“Did he like to dance?” Bird asked. I had no idea if he liked to dance, but I said, “He loved it. He could even do the tango. He learned it in Buenos Aires. He and Mom danced all the time. He’d move the coffee table against the wall and use the whole room. He used to lift her and dip her and sing in her ear.” “Was I there?” “Sure you were,” I said. “He used to throw you up in the air and catch you.” “How’d he know he wouldn’t drop me?” “He just knew.” “What did he call me?” “Lots of things. Buddy, Little Guy, Punch.” I was making it up as I went. Bird looked unimpressed. “Judah the Maccabee,” I said. “Plain Maccabee. Mac.” “What’s the thing he called me the most ?” “I guess it was Emmanuel.” I pretended to think. “No, wait. It was Manny. He used to call you Manny.” “ Manny ,” Bird said, testing it out. He cuddled closer. “I want to tell you a secret,” he whispered. “Because it’s your birthday.” “What?” “First you have to promise to believe me.” “OK.” “Say ‘I promise.’ ” “I promise.” He took a deep breath. “I think I might be a lamed vovnik .” “A what?” “One of the lamed vovniks ,” he whispered. “The thirty-six holy people.” “ What thirty-six holy people?” “The ones that the existence of the world depends on.” “Oh, those . Don’t be—” “You promised,” Bird said. I didn’t say anything. “There are always thirty-six at any time,” he whispered. “No one knows who they are. Only their prayers reach God’s ear. That’s what Mr. Goldstein says.” “And you think you might be one of them,” I said. “What else does Mr. Goldstein say?” “He says that when the Messiah comes, he’s going to be one of the lamed vovniks . In every generation there’s one person who has the potential to be the Messiah. Maybe he lives up to it, or maybe he doesn’t. Maybe the world is ready for him, or maybe it isn’t. That’s all.” I lay in the dark trying to think of the right thing to say. My stomach began to hurt.
26. THE SITUATION VERGED ON CRITICAL
     
The next Saturday I put Life as We Don’t Know It into my backpack and took the subway up to Columbia University. I wandered around the campus for forty-five minutes until I found Eldridge’s office in the Earth Sciences building. When I got there the secretary eating take-out said Dr. Eldridge wasn’t around. I said I would wait, and he said maybe I should come back another time since Dr. Eldridge wouldn’t be in for a few hours. I told him I didn’t mind. He went back to his food. While I waited, I read one issue of Fossil magazine. Then I asked the secretary, who was laughing out loud about something on his computer, if he thought Dr. Eldridge would be back soon. He stopped laughing and looked at me like I’d just ruined the most important moment of his life. I went back to my seat and read one issue of Paleontologist Today.
I got hungry, so I went down the hall and got a package of Devil Dogs from a vending machine. Then I fell asleep. When I woke up the secretary was gone. The door of Eldridge’s office was open, and the lights were on. Inside, a very old man with white hair was standing next to a filing cabinet under a poster that said: HENCE WITHOUT PARENTS, BY SPONTANEOUS BIRTH, RISE HE FIRST SPECKS OF ANIMATED EARTH— ERASMUS DARWIN.
“Well to be honest I hadn’t thought of that option,” the old man said into the phone. “I doubt he’d even want to apply. Anyway, I think we already have our man. I’ll have to talk to the department, but let’s just say things are looking good.” He saw me standing at the door and made a gesture that he’d be off in a moment. I was about to say it was OK, I was waiting for Dr. Eldridge, but he turned his back and gazed out the window. “Good, glad to hear it. I better run. Right, then. All the best. ’Bye now.” He turned to me. “Terribly sorry,” he said. “What can I help you