she sketched out the thyme plant. When she was partway through, she stood up and went outside. In a moment, she was back, and she was holding a whole thyme plant. She washed it in the sink, dried it with a cloth, and came and laid it on the table.
—Now, I can draw the roots, she said.
She went then to her task, switching pencils often, and pausing to sharpen them. The claimant watched in wonder as the plant emerged on the page, very delicately. So delicately!
And then she was done.
—How could you do that? asked the claimant. How is that? How could it be?
—Do you remember which one of us suggested that I draw plants?
He shook his head.
—Well, I suggested it. That makes it very plausible that it is something I could do. You see how it is now? I wouldn’t have suggested something I couldn’t do…isn’t that true?
The claimant smiled.
—And you will teach me.
—Yes, she said. It will be a good thing for us.
23 JUNIPER LANE
The claimant and the examiner approached the house. It was precisely the same as the house they lived in, so it was very comfortable to stand there in the doorway. Surprises—there never would be any!
The door opened, and Hilda was standing there. She was wearing a short yellow dress in honor of the springtime.
—Good evening, she said. Come in, come in!
Her eyes met Martin’s and traveled over them and into them. He wondered if it had really happened or if he was imagining it. I am imagining it, he decided. It is because of what I was told.
They went into the hall and passed between the pheasant painting and the painting of the angry woman. They went to a closet and hung their coats. They were led through the passage to the dining room, and sat at the same table where the claimant had spent so much time.
—Martin will be back in a moment, said Hilda. He just ran down to the market to get some salmon for the salad.
She set out on the table a tray with some drinks.
—Here you are, Emma, and this is for you, Martin.
She left the room, then popped her head back in.
—Oh, Martin, she said, could you help me with something?
HE CAME INTO THE KITCHEN and she was standing in a sort of pose, facing him, her shoulders askance. Her eyes were wide open and she was looking right at him. He could hardly bear it.
She stepped close to him and went up on her tiptoes to whisper something in his ear.
—I need to speak to you.
He could feel the length of her against his arm. The buttons on her dress pressed into his skin. That’s how close she stood.
—I need, can we meet in private?—When?
—Leave your house in the middle of the night, not tonight, but tomorrow. I’ll be outside in the street, and we can go somewhere to speak. Right after the clock strikes one.
Should he agree?
He nodded.
—WELL, WELL, WELL, said Martin. Well, well, well. This was a fine supper after all. I thought it would be just a disaster, but that market down in the square, why, it saves the day every time. You wouldn’t expect such a small market to have the things you need—but it is almost like they contrive to have only those things. The things you don’t need, they don’t have. The things you need, they have. What an idea! Why don’t all markets work that way?
Emma chuckled to herself.
—They must know you very well, she said. Maybe when they see you enter the store, they put out items just for you.
—If it’s true, said Martin, I should pay them double. What a great place this is.
He winked at the claimant. When the claimant returned his gaze, he indicated the next room with his head.
The claimant looked around. No one else had seen.
—I’m going to get a start on these dishes, said Martin.
He stood up and started collecting the plates. When Hilda got up, too, he shook his head.
—You cook, I clean, I cook, you clean. You know the rules. Fair is fair.
—I’ll help you, said the claimant.
—Now that’s some help I’ll accept.
The two men went into the next room.
HE
—Now, I can draw the roots, she said.
She went then to her task, switching pencils often, and pausing to sharpen them. The claimant watched in wonder as the plant emerged on the page, very delicately. So delicately!
And then she was done.
—How could you do that? asked the claimant. How is that? How could it be?
—Do you remember which one of us suggested that I draw plants?
He shook his head.
—Well, I suggested it. That makes it very plausible that it is something I could do. You see how it is now? I wouldn’t have suggested something I couldn’t do…isn’t that true?
The claimant smiled.
—And you will teach me.
—Yes, she said. It will be a good thing for us.
23 JUNIPER LANE
The claimant and the examiner approached the house. It was precisely the same as the house they lived in, so it was very comfortable to stand there in the doorway. Surprises—there never would be any!
The door opened, and Hilda was standing there. She was wearing a short yellow dress in honor of the springtime.
—Good evening, she said. Come in, come in!
Her eyes met Martin’s and traveled over them and into them. He wondered if it had really happened or if he was imagining it. I am imagining it, he decided. It is because of what I was told.
They went into the hall and passed between the pheasant painting and the painting of the angry woman. They went to a closet and hung their coats. They were led through the passage to the dining room, and sat at the same table where the claimant had spent so much time.
—Martin will be back in a moment, said Hilda. He just ran down to the market to get some salmon for the salad.
She set out on the table a tray with some drinks.
—Here you are, Emma, and this is for you, Martin.
She left the room, then popped her head back in.
—Oh, Martin, she said, could you help me with something?
HE CAME INTO THE KITCHEN and she was standing in a sort of pose, facing him, her shoulders askance. Her eyes were wide open and she was looking right at him. He could hardly bear it.
She stepped close to him and went up on her tiptoes to whisper something in his ear.
—I need to speak to you.
He could feel the length of her against his arm. The buttons on her dress pressed into his skin. That’s how close she stood.
—I need, can we meet in private?—When?
—Leave your house in the middle of the night, not tonight, but tomorrow. I’ll be outside in the street, and we can go somewhere to speak. Right after the clock strikes one.
Should he agree?
He nodded.
—WELL, WELL, WELL, said Martin. Well, well, well. This was a fine supper after all. I thought it would be just a disaster, but that market down in the square, why, it saves the day every time. You wouldn’t expect such a small market to have the things you need—but it is almost like they contrive to have only those things. The things you don’t need, they don’t have. The things you need, they have. What an idea! Why don’t all markets work that way?
Emma chuckled to herself.
—They must know you very well, she said. Maybe when they see you enter the store, they put out items just for you.
—If it’s true, said Martin, I should pay them double. What a great place this is.
He winked at the claimant. When the claimant returned his gaze, he indicated the next room with his head.
The claimant looked around. No one else had seen.
—I’m going to get a start on these dishes, said Martin.
He stood up and started collecting the plates. When Hilda got up, too, he shook his head.
—You cook, I clean, I cook, you clean. You know the rules. Fair is fair.
—I’ll help you, said the claimant.
—Now that’s some help I’ll accept.
The two men went into the next room.
HE
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