black sky. "The
light from those stars takes millions of years to reach the earth,"
she explained. "They may no longer exist, but we'll still be
seeing them for a long, long time. Every time we look at the sky, we
go back millions of years. We can travel through time just by looking
out a window."
They
were both silent for a moment. The sounds and lights of the party
faded away for Elisa, who was much more interested in the magnificent
silence that rose above her like a vaulted cathedral. When she looked
back down, and then over at Maldonado, she realized he felt the same
thing.
"Physics
is a beautiful thing," she murmured.
"One
of many," he responded, staring at her.
They
continued their conversation, though at a more relaxed pace. Then he
suggested they stop and get something to eat, and she put up no
resistance (it had gotten late and she was hungry). Maldonado jumped
up and headed for the bar.
While
she was waiting for him, Elisa glanced around indifferently. There
were still plenty of hangers-on at the party, enjoying the warm
summer temperatures. An old Umberto Tozzi song was playing, and here
and there groups of students and professors stood chatting animatedly
beneath the party lights.
Then
she noticed a man watching her.
He
was a completely anodyne fellow, standing on the embankment's lower
deck. His checked, short-sleeved shirt and well-pressed trousers were
wholly unremarkable. His hair was graying, and his only
distinguishing feature was a big gray mustache. Elisa guessed he was
a professor, though he wasn't speaking to any colleagues. Or doing
anything else, for that matter.
Except
staring at her.
His
gaze intrigued her. She wondered if she knew him from somewhere, but
concluded that he must be the one who recognized her. Maybe he'd seen
her picture in the paper, too.
Suddenly,
he whipped his head around quickly (too quickly) and vanished behind
one of the groups of gathered professors. She was more disturbed by
his rapid departure than his staring. It was like he was faking it,
like he'd realized that Elisa had become aware of him. Caught
me, damn it. But
when Maldonado returned with two big, paper-wrapped sandwiches, a bag
of potato chips, and beer and another Diet Coke for her, she forgot
the incident. It wasn't the first time an older man had stared at
her, after all.
ON the
ride back to Madrid, they were mostly silent, but Elisa felt entirely
at ease in the car, being driven home by a boy she hardly knew. She
somehow felt at ease in his company. Maldonado made her laugh from
time to time with his ironic quips, but he'd stopped asking
questions, and Elisa was glad about that. She took advantage of the
situation by asking him questions
instead. His life was quite straightforward: he lived with his
parents and sister, and he was into traveling and sports (two things
she loved, too). It was almost midnight when Maldonado's Peugeot
pulled up in front of her apartment building on Claudio Coello.
"Some
building," he said. "Is being rich a requirement for making
it as a physicist?"
"For
my mother, it's a requirement for anything."
"We
haven't even talked about your family ... What does your mother do?
Mathematician? Chemist? Genetic engineer? Inventor of the Rubik's
Cube?"
"She
owns a beauty salon two blocks from here," laughed Elisa. "My father was
a physicist, but he died in a car crash five years ago."
Maldonado
looked genuinely distraught.
"I'm
so sorry."
"Don't
worry, I hardly knew him," Elisa replied easily. She climbed out
and closed the car door. "He was never home." She bent down
to look in at Maldonado. "Thanks for the ride."
"Thanks
for your help. Hey, if I have ... more ... questions ... could we, uh
... go out sometime?"
"Sure."
"I
have your phone number. I'll call you. Good luck tomorrow on the
first day of class with Blanes."
Maldonado
waited courteously for her to reach the door to her building. Elisa
turned to wave.
And
froze.
Across
the street, a man was staring at
light from those stars takes millions of years to reach the earth,"
she explained. "They may no longer exist, but we'll still be
seeing them for a long, long time. Every time we look at the sky, we
go back millions of years. We can travel through time just by looking
out a window."
They
were both silent for a moment. The sounds and lights of the party
faded away for Elisa, who was much more interested in the magnificent
silence that rose above her like a vaulted cathedral. When she looked
back down, and then over at Maldonado, she realized he felt the same
thing.
"Physics
is a beautiful thing," she murmured.
"One
of many," he responded, staring at her.
They
continued their conversation, though at a more relaxed pace. Then he
suggested they stop and get something to eat, and she put up no
resistance (it had gotten late and she was hungry). Maldonado jumped
up and headed for the bar.
While
she was waiting for him, Elisa glanced around indifferently. There
were still plenty of hangers-on at the party, enjoying the warm
summer temperatures. An old Umberto Tozzi song was playing, and here
and there groups of students and professors stood chatting animatedly
beneath the party lights.
Then
she noticed a man watching her.
He
was a completely anodyne fellow, standing on the embankment's lower
deck. His checked, short-sleeved shirt and well-pressed trousers were
wholly unremarkable. His hair was graying, and his only
distinguishing feature was a big gray mustache. Elisa guessed he was
a professor, though he wasn't speaking to any colleagues. Or doing
anything else, for that matter.
Except
staring at her.
His
gaze intrigued her. She wondered if she knew him from somewhere, but
concluded that he must be the one who recognized her. Maybe he'd seen
her picture in the paper, too.
Suddenly,
he whipped his head around quickly (too quickly) and vanished behind
one of the groups of gathered professors. She was more disturbed by
his rapid departure than his staring. It was like he was faking it,
like he'd realized that Elisa had become aware of him. Caught
me, damn it. But
when Maldonado returned with two big, paper-wrapped sandwiches, a bag
of potato chips, and beer and another Diet Coke for her, she forgot
the incident. It wasn't the first time an older man had stared at
her, after all.
ON the
ride back to Madrid, they were mostly silent, but Elisa felt entirely
at ease in the car, being driven home by a boy she hardly knew. She
somehow felt at ease in his company. Maldonado made her laugh from
time to time with his ironic quips, but he'd stopped asking
questions, and Elisa was glad about that. She took advantage of the
situation by asking him questions
instead. His life was quite straightforward: he lived with his
parents and sister, and he was into traveling and sports (two things
she loved, too). It was almost midnight when Maldonado's Peugeot
pulled up in front of her apartment building on Claudio Coello.
"Some
building," he said. "Is being rich a requirement for making
it as a physicist?"
"For
my mother, it's a requirement for anything."
"We
haven't even talked about your family ... What does your mother do?
Mathematician? Chemist? Genetic engineer? Inventor of the Rubik's
Cube?"
"She
owns a beauty salon two blocks from here," laughed Elisa. "My father was
a physicist, but he died in a car crash five years ago."
Maldonado
looked genuinely distraught.
"I'm
so sorry."
"Don't
worry, I hardly knew him," Elisa replied easily. She climbed out
and closed the car door. "He was never home." She bent down
to look in at Maldonado. "Thanks for the ride."
"Thanks
for your help. Hey, if I have ... more ... questions ... could we, uh
... go out sometime?"
"Sure."
"I
have your phone number. I'll call you. Good luck tomorrow on the
first day of class with Blanes."
Maldonado
waited courteously for her to reach the door to her building. Elisa
turned to wave.
And
froze.
Across
the street, a man was staring at
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