Read Online The Fifth Floor by Michael Harvey - Free Book Online

romantic.”
    I could have told her all about romance. About how it was sometimes better read than lived. But I figured people, even fourteen-year-old people, had to figure some things out for themselves.
    “What’s up, Taylor?”
    “My mom told me you were going to help us.”
    “She did?”
    “Yeah. She told me if there was trouble, I should come find you.”
    Taylor held out my business card. A name, address, e-mail, and phone number. Not much more than that to a business card. Until it’s in the hands of a kid. Until it offers you up as a savior.
    “Does your mom know you’re here?”
    She shook her head and hair fell over the lower half of her face. She pulled the tresses back behind her ears and settled herself in her chair.
    “You came on your own?”
    “Yes.”
    “Where’s your mom?”
    “At home, I guess.”
    “So she’s not in trouble right now?”
    “No. Is that what I have to wait for? I mean, before we can come and see you?”
    “No, Taylor. It’s okay to come and see me whenever you want.”
    We sat for a moment and I thought about things. Taylor picked through the pages of Catullus, then looked around the room. Waiting, apparently, for my plan.
    “Who’s that guy?” she said. I followed her finger to a couple of old volumes that sat on the edge of my desk.
    “That’s a Greek playwright by the name of Sophocles. Ever heard of him?”
    She shook her head. I picked up a book titled The Oedipus Trilogy.
    “He lived in the fifth century b.c. Any thoughts about the fifth century b.c.?”
    Taylor just looked at me so I kept going.
    “Sophocles wrote three plays known as the Oedipus trilogy.”
    “What were they about?”
    “That’s a big question.” I opened the text and found a line from Sophocles’ Oedipus at Colonus.
    “What’s that?” Taylor said.
    “Ancient Greek.” I pointed her to the translation: “Man is born to fate a prey.”
    “Is that supposed to be a puzzle?”
    “Sort of. Sophocles believed each man was born to a destiny he couldn’t escape. And that anyone who thought otherwise was a fool. Like Oedipus.”
    “Oedipus was a fool?”
    “Oedipus was a king. A man who thought he was the master of his fate. A man who thought he could solve any problem through the force of his own intellect.”
    “Let me guess,” Taylor said. “That didn’t work out.”
    “Oedipus asked a lot of questions. Problem was, he didn’t always get the answers he wanted.”
    “Was that the point of the play?”
    I smiled and closed the book.
    “There are a lot of points to the Oedipus trilogy, but, yeah, I guess that’s one of them. Don’t ask a question unless you’re sure you can handle the answer.”
    Taylor ran her hand across the frayed cover and pulled it across the desk.
    “Mind if I take this one too?”
    “Suit yourself.”
    I showed her the book’s layout. Where the English translations were for each Greek passage. How the comments in the back of the book worked. She took it all in, then stacked Sophocles on top of Catullus.
    “Thanks. I kind of like this stuff.”
    “Me too,” I said. “Makes you think.”
    “Want to know what I was thinking just now?”
    “Shoot.”
    “I was thinking, I wonder if he has a girlfriend?”
    “How interesting,” I said.
    “So do you?”
    “Do I what?”
    “Have a girlfriend?”
    “What did I just tell you about asking questions?”
    The girl smiled. For the first time since she sat down, she seemed 100 percent kid.
    “What do you want to know?” I said.
    “Why don’t you date my mom?”
    “Excuse me?”
    “She says you two used to go out.”
    “Your mom’s married. For the second time.”
    “Yeah, we know about that.”
    “Move on, Taylor.”
    Now she laughed a little. Bounced a bit in her chair. I noticed a tattoo on the inside of her wrist. Looked like some kind of fruit. Maybe a peach, but I couldn’t be sure.
    “Want to know what she said about you?” the girl said.
    “We’re old friends.”
    “I know.