"Pretty good advice," I said.

"I think so. But I guess it was some sort of chivalry, you didn't want to compete with me in the city, so you moved to the country."

I must have been busy gaping at the telephone, because she continued before I could reply.

"I know that's not the only reason, but don't you think three years is long enough? Not that I'm in total agreement with your friends, but still. I don't know why you're punishing yourself."

"Punishing myself, Marjorie? Does that sound like me?"

"I don't know, dear. Not normally, but maybe over how things were with your father, those last few years."

"We were okay. It's not like he disinherited me. I bought Dusk Books with the money he left me."

"Yes, I seem to recall him warning you not to spend it all in one place. Which, sullen child, you did."

"Not all of it. I still have some savings."

"Don't change the subject. You can't bury yourself in obscurity all your life, Christopher."

I gathered my wits about me and managed a startled laugh. "Marjorie, I'm not punishing myself! I'm happy here. I like the quiet life."

"I don't see how you can be. Don't you starve for stimulation?"

"I have books."

There was a sigh on the other end of the telephone line. "You are stubborn, Christopher. You fight life too much."

"Believe me," I said, setting the crossword aside, "fighting is the last thing on my mind."

"It seems like such a wasteland though."

"You'd be surprised. You should come to see me, Marjorie."

"I'm afraid I'll never leave Chicago," she said.

"Well, I'll have to come visit you then. In the meantime, I need a book."

There was an amused snort. "I don't know if I can help you with that, Christopher."

"Very funny. It's for a friend, so don't tease me about finally discovering the mystical in life."

"I wouldn't dream of it. What friend is this?"

"He just moved here, used to live in the city. I think you'd like him. He's sort of an odd duck."

"Oh?"

"He's good at hiding. Anyway, he asked if I'd dig up an out-of-print title. You ready?"

"Of course," she said, sounding mildly insulted.

"It's called Ancient Games. It's a book about folklore," I added, and gave her the author and publisher. "Plus he'd like recommendations – companion pieces, that kind of thing."

"I think I know who to call. I'll give you a call when everything's assembled. Is there anything else you'd like from the city? I don't think fast food would keep, but then you never know what preservatives they load it up with."

I considered for a moment. The city does have some comforts that one misses, having grown up there. Nightclubs at midnight, food stands at three am, and all my accompanying sins came back to haunt me. Loud music, dim bars, the elevated trains, the bitter cold canyon-effect where the winds cut through the gaps between high downtown buildings, chilling any exposed skin down to the bone. My apartment building, my office building. The hospital.

"No," I said. "There's nothing else I need."

"So long as you're sure. You only need to call, Christopher."

"Thank you, Marj. Save the receipts and send them on."

I could picture her smiling on the other end of the telephone. "You miss the ephemera. I see. Goodbye."

"Thanks again."

Marjorie had never failed to find a book, and I knew to expect the package in pretty short order. I had thought that would probably be the end of it, since the book Lucas had asked for didn't look particularly expensive. I imagined the next communication from her would be in the form of a letter, shoved inside a book so the post-office wouldn't notice it when it shipped media-mail.

Instead, I had a telephone call two days after I placed the order.

"Christopher, it's Marjorie," she said, the line crackling and popping behind her voice.

"Are you on a payphone?" I asked.

"Worse – my cellular."

"Oh, Marjorie."

"I know – I'm ashamed of me too, but I had to crack and get one. Anyway, this isn't the kind of thing I could borrow a phone for."

"Why? What's the matter?"

"Well, I've found a source for the book you're after, but she's...eccentric."

"God, no."

"Yep, one of those. The whole place reeks of cigarette smoke."

"I'm so sorry to send you there, Marj."