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Authors: Emily Arsenault
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will be sufficient this time.”
“All right. I’m buying the Coke, then. Which cits do you want to take?”
“How about you start with ‘access time’ through ‘cable knit.’ I’ll start with ‘maître d’ ’ through … let’s see … through ‘noseguard.’”
“That’s gonna be a lot of cits. Am I supposed to carry a big sack of them out on Friday afternoon?”
“Bring a backpack Friday. And just take as many as you can without it looking too weird. You might also try to look through some of the words before you leave work. What kind of beer do you like?”
“Hmm. Corona, if you feel like classing it up. But lately I’ve discovered I have a taste for Black Label. If you’re looking to save a buck or two.”
“It’s all the same to me, Billy. Really, which do you want?”
“What the hell. Black Label.”
Mona rolled her eyes. “That’s what my dad drinks with his hunting buddies. And I think you may be the only Black Label–guzzling lexicographer on God’s great earth.”
“I don’t
guzzle.”
“We’ll just see about that. I’m going back up to work.”
“Congratulations,” I said.
I was thinking of the pile of cits on my desk for
astern
. Sitting next to it was a letter questioning the political propriety of the term
little people
. The writer of the letter felt the term was really no better than
midget, dwarf
, or
munchkin. The
writer gave no indication whether he was a “little person” himself.
“I’m just gonna hang around here for a few more minutes, and look at the old books,” I confessed.
Mona gave me a skeptical smile as she left.
“I thought you were gonna spend all night there in your car,” Tom said. He and Jimmy were watching me come up the walk. “What’s going on?”
“I was listening to a song. I wanted to finish it.”
“What song?” Tom asked.
“‘No Woman No Cry.’”
“Hmm,” he mumbled. I lingered by my door, expecting him to supply his opinion about Bob Marley. He didn’t.
“Plans tonight?” I asked.
“Yeah,” Tom replied. “Watching an investigative documentary about the October Surprise. Feel free to join me, if that interests you.”
“Actually, I kind of have a date tonight.”
“Ahh,” said Jimmy. “Congratulations. Where you bringing the lucky lady?”
“Well, we’re just gonna hang out at her place. We’re investigating a little work-related problem together. A dictionary puzzle.”
“Pray tell,” said Tom. “This sounds interesting.”
“Maybe after tonight,” I said. “It’s all a little unclear still.”
“C’mon,” Tom insisted. “I love word games.”
“It’s not
a game
—”
“Then what is it?”
Jimmy snorted. “Tommy. Quit bothering him about the stupid
words
. If you have to bother him, ask him about the
girl.”
Tom sniffed. “That doesn’t interest me so much.”
“Yeah, right,” said Jimmy. “She must be smart, huh, Billy? Since she works with you there at Samuelson?”
“Yeah, she’s pretty smart. Listen, I wish I could chat with you longer, but I’ve got to get ready and then run to the liquor store. I’ve gotta get a flask of rum.”
Jimmy hooted. “You need a little something to nip on during your date? Is the girl that ugly?”
“No, she just likes rum and Coke.”
“That’s one of my wife’s favorite drinks.” Tom nodded knowingly.
“Is it?” I said, absently. Then: “Wait. Tom, dude, you’ve got a wife?”
“Yep.”
“You’re joking.”
“It’s not something to joke about. Not a laughing matter, my marriage.”
“You’re hanging out at her place with a bottle of booze? On a first date?” Jimmy shook his head. “I wish I was part of your generation, Billy boy. Good luck.”
Mona’s place was classier than mine . It took me a while to find it—a set of old stone buildings called Somers’Mill. I wasn’t used to this tree-lined side of the city, where most of the storefronts were occupied and no one was walking around with an
“All right. I’m buying the Coke, then. Which cits do you want to take?”
“How about you start with ‘access time’ through ‘cable knit.’ I’ll start with ‘maître d’ ’ through … let’s see … through ‘noseguard.’”
“That’s gonna be a lot of cits. Am I supposed to carry a big sack of them out on Friday afternoon?”
“Bring a backpack Friday. And just take as many as you can without it looking too weird. You might also try to look through some of the words before you leave work. What kind of beer do you like?”
“Hmm. Corona, if you feel like classing it up. But lately I’ve discovered I have a taste for Black Label. If you’re looking to save a buck or two.”
“It’s all the same to me, Billy. Really, which do you want?”
“What the hell. Black Label.”
Mona rolled her eyes. “That’s what my dad drinks with his hunting buddies. And I think you may be the only Black Label–guzzling lexicographer on God’s great earth.”
“I don’t
guzzle.”
“We’ll just see about that. I’m going back up to work.”
“Congratulations,” I said.
I was thinking of the pile of cits on my desk for
astern
. Sitting next to it was a letter questioning the political propriety of the term
little people
. The writer of the letter felt the term was really no better than
midget, dwarf
, or
munchkin. The
writer gave no indication whether he was a “little person” himself.
“I’m just gonna hang around here for a few more minutes, and look at the old books,” I confessed.
Mona gave me a skeptical smile as she left.
“I thought you were gonna spend all night there in your car,” Tom said. He and Jimmy were watching me come up the walk. “What’s going on?”
“I was listening to a song. I wanted to finish it.”
“What song?” Tom asked.
“‘No Woman No Cry.’”
“Hmm,” he mumbled. I lingered by my door, expecting him to supply his opinion about Bob Marley. He didn’t.
“Plans tonight?” I asked.
“Yeah,” Tom replied. “Watching an investigative documentary about the October Surprise. Feel free to join me, if that interests you.”
“Actually, I kind of have a date tonight.”
“Ahh,” said Jimmy. “Congratulations. Where you bringing the lucky lady?”
“Well, we’re just gonna hang out at her place. We’re investigating a little work-related problem together. A dictionary puzzle.”
“Pray tell,” said Tom. “This sounds interesting.”
“Maybe after tonight,” I said. “It’s all a little unclear still.”
“C’mon,” Tom insisted. “I love word games.”
“It’s not
a game
—”
“Then what is it?”
Jimmy snorted. “Tommy. Quit bothering him about the stupid
words
. If you have to bother him, ask him about the
girl.”
Tom sniffed. “That doesn’t interest me so much.”
“Yeah, right,” said Jimmy. “She must be smart, huh, Billy? Since she works with you there at Samuelson?”
“Yeah, she’s pretty smart. Listen, I wish I could chat with you longer, but I’ve got to get ready and then run to the liquor store. I’ve gotta get a flask of rum.”
Jimmy hooted. “You need a little something to nip on during your date? Is the girl that ugly?”
“No, she just likes rum and Coke.”
“That’s one of my wife’s favorite drinks.” Tom nodded knowingly.
“Is it?” I said, absently. Then: “Wait. Tom, dude, you’ve got a wife?”
“Yep.”
“You’re joking.”
“It’s not something to joke about. Not a laughing matter, my marriage.”
“You’re hanging out at her place with a bottle of booze? On a first date?” Jimmy shook his head. “I wish I was part of your generation, Billy boy. Good luck.”
Mona’s place was classier than mine . It took me a while to find it—a set of old stone buildings called Somers’Mill. I wasn’t used to this tree-lined side of the city, where most of the storefronts were occupied and no one was walking around with an
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