“What’s your answer?” I asked.
“Ain’t got no answer. Hell, Dr. J, I don’t know. I don’t even think it’s very interesting. Where the old man got his eye for books—that’s where the real mystery is. If we knew that we’d all be rich in no time. How do guys like old man Ballard start from scratch and build a library that just knocks people for a loop? I don’t know. Somehow they’re plugged into the universe in this queer kinda way. They know what’ll be valued, not just now but years from now.”
“And they don’t even think of value in terms of money,” I said. “They have a totally different agenda. And I guess it was a lot easier to build a library then, when the average cost of a book was two bucks.”
“It’s all relative. You of all people ought to know that. A book has always cost about what a meal in a good restaurant costs. Did then, still does. I get sick of hearing how expensive books are. Which would you rather have, a good book or a tender steak? I know what I’d take, seven days a week.”
He moved to the door: he was about to leave.
“That was a good move, hiring this lady,” he said. “She’ll be good for your business, just like the other one. She’s got a sassy mouth but you can handle her. Just give her the back of your hand two or three times a day.”
Millie stuck out her tongue.
“You need to unshackle your legs, get free again,” Ruby said. “You’re going through something, I can see it written all over you. It’s a growth spurt. All of a sudden you’re tired of retail. You’re starting to see where the real fun is in the book business. Usually it takes five years: you’ve gone through it all in three months. You came into this business almost whole, and now you’re ready to move on. The Zen Buddhists have a word for it.
“I don’t feel suddenly enlightened. I feel as dense as ever. I don’t think I’ll be able to rest till I know the answers to those two questions.”
“What questions?” Millie said.
“How did those books change into fine firsts… and who was the woman?”
“What woman?”
“The day Peter and Miss Pride were killed, a woman called and asked for Neff. Ruby talked to her.”
Millie Farmer blinked.
“Hell,” she said; “I believe that was me.”
I was out of my apartment in two hours.
I was surprised at how little I had. I wanted few things from that old life: my furniture, such as it was, was old and worn; the Salvation Army had been glad to come for it, and I was having new stuff delivered that afternoon. There had been some doubt about the bed arriving today, and I was prepared to bag it tonight on the floor. I arrived on Madison Street before noon. It was a warm day for December, but Denver is like that: it can have rain, snow, and a heat wave all in the same week.
Greenwald was sitting in a rocker reading a book when I drove up. He greeted me with a wave. I began to move my things in, arranging as I went. I gloried in the bookshelves: how many book dealers have room for ten thousand books at home? I looked through the front window and saw that Greenwald had fallen asleep with the book spread open across his chest. When I looked again, some minutes later, he was gone. But he was back again, wearing a sweater, when I made my last trip to the trailer.
“It’s going to snow tonight,” he said. “I just saw it on the weather. You can feel it coming already; there’s a chill in the air.”
He had made us some lunch. “Just come over when you’re ready,” he said. I went into my bathroom to wash. The floor had two small smooth spots where Stanley Ballard had stood every morning. Untold numbers of shaves he had had, standing at this same glass. Scraping his face with an old-fashioned straight razor (the hook for the strop was still there, fastened to the wall). Looking in his own eyes and seeing no mystery there. Knowing himself thoroughly.
Satori, I thought.
Maybe I’ll become a Buddhist.
I knew things I hadn’t known before. I could see Emery Neff sitting in his store that day. Ruby had walked up the street for a cup of coffee. Pinky had just called to say that she’d be closing up alone. But Peter was coming in, so everything would be fine.
He knew then what he was going to do. He picked up the phone and dialed a number he had called often in the past few months.
And Millie, who thought she’d come to love him, could never say no.
