Free The Last of the Wise Lovers by Amnon Jackont Page A

help...”
       "You know him well...”
       "Sure."
       She stared at me, biting her lower
lip.  Suddenly she said, "Maybe it's not worth bothering him,"
as she folded the form.  "After all, I've still got a bunch of books
from the previous list...”  When she was a few paces away from my counter,
she turned and said, "Thanks anyway," then vanished into the Reading
Room.
       There was something strange about
this - or maybe not. I couldn't decide.  In any case, a few minutes later
I found an excuse to follow her.  The excuse was to wade through a pile of
old cards from pre-computer days.  They were crammed into long wooden
drawers; I had to read each card and make sure the information on it had been
entered into the computer before the card was destroyed.  "What's
this spirit of volunteerism?" asked Ms. Yardley suspiciously.
"There's no work in here," I explained, "and it's a shame for me
to sit here and be bored when I could be making progress checking the
cards."
       She looked over the Catalog Room,
which really was empty just then, and released me with a nod of her head.
       I pulled out two of the most crowded
drawers and set them on a distant table from where I could see Miss Doherty.
 I took out a fistful of cards and laid them out in front of me, spread
out the computer list, and sat down to watch her.
       She worked steadily, but it seemed
her thoughts wandered elsewhere: her lips tautened and slackened in
concentration.  Her hair was disheveled.  Her face was alive, glowing
with some energy that made it so pretty I couldn't take my eyes off it.
 The whole time her hands were busy as if they were independent, detached
from her head: they opened books, located articles according to the list in
front of her, marked them off for photocopying with strips of colored paper
that she stuck between the pages.  After she had accumulated eight or ten
books, she got up and carried them to the photocopy machine, which was being
used by a boy in a school blazer.  She put the books down on a nearby
table and approached the photocopier.  The boy became aware of her
presence and smiled apologetically.  She smiled back and waved her hand at
him in a gesture that said, `Don't hurry.'  The boy smiled at her again
and walked around to the other side of the machine to collect the pages he had
copied.  For a moment he stood between us, completely blocking my view.  When
he moved - she was no longer there.
       I got up so noisily that one of the
librarians tapped on her counter in protest.  I went to the photocopy
machine and investigated it from all sides.  The boy was still there,
collating his pages.  
     "Whose books are these?" I asked,
pointing to the pile that Miss Doherty had left behind.  He looked at me
blankly.
     "Some lady," he said, nodding his
head in the direction of the door that led to the stacks.
       I went inside.  I passed by the
familiar signs: "Stacks - Section A" and "Authorized Personnel
Only".  Around a bend in the corridor, by the time clock and the
employees' cards, I saw her.
       I dropped back into the niche where
the fire extinguisher was kept - probably the same one from which Ms. Yardley
had laid an ambush for me the day she'd dragged me out of there to see Mr. K.
Then I carefully peeked out.  She was standing with her back to me,
holding something square in her hand - a piece of cardboard, or maybe an
envelope.  It was hard to see in the dim light that filtered in behind us.
 I contained my curiosity and waited quietly for her to turn around.
       She didn't turn around.
 Instead, she did the last thing I expected her to do: she bent over,
grabbed the hem of her skirt, and pulled it up to her waist.  She was the
most sensuous woman I had ever seen.  Her body still had the firmness of a
pretty college coed, together with the ripe and elegant femininity of a fair
lady from Hackensack.  Her legs were long, slender, and tanned; and her
buttocks, barely swathed