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story.”
    â€œMy office is in Decio. Come see me. But not in that uniform.”
    That is how it began. The first time, they talked about Goldsmith’s novel, then went on to other things. Henry asked if he could have Izquierdo’s syllabus. He had read half the books on the list.
    â€œWhere did you go to school?”
    â€œSt. Joe High.”
    â€œI meant college.”
    â€œI was turned down.”
    â€œWhere?”
    â€œHere.”
    â€œGeez.”
    On Henry’s second visit, Izquierdo developed the theory that Henry was better off as he was. “Your problem is you really want to use your mind. That disqualifies you. Students are engaged in job preparation. The degree is a ticket, that’s all. So-called higher education has become a fraud. Maybe it always was.”
    â€œSo why are you here?”
    â€œTo dig I am not able, to beg I am ashamed. Plus, the pay is great.”
    For all that, Izquierdo’s negative attitude toward Notre Dame rivaled Henry’s own.
    â€œI suppose you’re Catholic?” he asked Henry.
    â€œI was baptized.”
    â€œWho wasn’t? This is supposed to be the premier Catholic university in the land. Give me a break.”
    Izquierdo had put aside the faith of his fathers.
    â€œYou’re an agnostic?”
    â€œHa. No halfway measures for Raul. None of that can stand up to what we now know.”
    â€œWhat’s that?”
    Izquierdo looked sly. “You think I think that what I just said is true.”
    â€œDon’t you?”
    He shook his head. “The thing is, it isn’t false either. Look, there’s no there there. No objective world to underwrite our sentences and make them true or false. The world is part of what we fabricate, not independent of it. Are you following me?”
    *   *   *
    This was exciting stuff, until Henry thought of the sentence “I was turned down by Notre Dame.” But talking with Izquierdo fed his conviction that he was as smart as any student. Smarter. This wobbled a bit when he found out that Larry Douglas had a secret passion for poetry, but of the obvious sort.
    â€œWhy didn’t you go to college, Larry?”
    â€œWhy didn’t you?”
    â€œAll it is is job preparation. I’ve got a job.”
    Larry liked that. Why didn’t they double-date some weekend?
    â€œI broke up with my girl.” There had never been a girl. All that study in high school had given Henry the reputation of being a nerd.
    â€œMy girl will fix you up.”
    Why not?
    Larry’s girl was named Kimberley, a real doll, but Henry got pudgy Laura, who worked in the office of campus security. She kept telling him she hadn’t wanted to come, she was only there to give Larry a bad time.
    â€œWhat for?”
    â€œHer. I was his girl for months, then she came along.”
    â€œMaybe we should trade.”
    Larry was driving, and he squirmed at the suggestion, but Kimberley turned and gave Henry a nice smile.
    â€œLarry says you’re quite a reader.”
    â€œOh, a little poetry.”
    â€œReally?” Larry had given him the story about Kimberley’s susceptibilities.
    â€œLasciate ogni speranza voi ch’entrate,” he murmured.
    â€œWhat’s that?”
    â€œDante. No translation really captures the poem.”
    Henry knew two or three other phrases from the Comedy, but the one did the trick. When they got to the sports bar, Kimberley was as much with Henry as was Laura, who snuggled up to Larry.
    â€œWhat other poets do you like?”
    â€œI was just going to ask you who your favorites were.”
    Larry was following this exchange with a desolate expression. Laura had him pretty well pinned in a corner of the booth, and if Kimberley was just across from him, she had turned to face Henry.
    â€œI suppose you think Emily Dickinson is too feminine.”
    â€œNo woman can be too feminine for me.”
    â€œHey,”