Ravi’s cathedral.
He passed through the darkened, domed room where the telescope was housed, into the computer control room. Ravi took off his coat, flipped on the lights, and settled in at the computer console. He soon heard someone enter the building.
“Lois not here, yet?” Paolo Rossetti said, appearing in the doorway.
“No,” Ravi said, looking up. “That’s kind of weird. She’s usually the first one here,” he said, checking his watch.
Their brief preliminaries over, the conversation turned to the subject at hand of theoretical cosmology and to the data they were analyzing.
A text rang on Ravi’s phone.
“Lois says she can’t make it,” Ravi said. “She’s not feeling well.”
“Anything serious?” Paolo said.
“Tummy bug,” replied Ravi.
*
Lois Lieberman did feel a bit sick to her stomach, but it was because she had lied to Ravi and Paolo, something she had never done before, and something so out of character she vowed never to do it again.
But desperate times called for desperate measures, and Lois was desperately in love with a married man who had called in the late afternoon to say he could see her that evening if she could get free.
Lois disliked the subterfuge and the questionable morality of her situation intensely. But when human wiring goes right, the impulse to endure outweighs all else, and Lois rationalized her affair with the belief that her paramour could only be happy with her, and she with him, and that without one another each would suffer. In the urge to thrive, all bets were off.
The man parked his car two blocks away from Lois’s house. He walked the rest of the way under cover of darkness, through the unlit, sleepy streets. Lois let him in the kitchen door at the back of the house where they would not be observed.
“It’s getting late,” Paolo said, looking at his watch. “I think I’ll call it a night. How about you?”
“I think I’ll stay a bit longer,” Ravi said, staring at the computer screen. “I am very encouraged by this data––I just want to look at a bit more. See you tomorrow.”
“Ciao, Ravi. See you in the morning.”
Paolo zipped his coat against the cold night air, and on the way to his car had a sudden thought.
Poor Lois and her stomach bug! I’ll pick up some ginger ale and plain crackers and chamomile tea on the way home, and leave a care package at her door, Paolo thought, filled with the satisfaction of having thought up a good deed for a friend.
*
Paolo parked his car on the quiet street in front of Lois’s house, since he did not wish to wake her with the sound of his car pulling into the driveway. He scribbled a note and stuck it inside the bag of grocery items. Carefully setting the bag on the wrought iron bench next to the front door Paolo began a silent retreat back to his car.
Just as he turned away from the house he caught a brief movement out of the corner of his eye. He focused on the upstairs window where he thought the movement came from, and stood still, waiting to see if anything else would happen. No light came on. All was quiet.
Perhaps it was nothing, Paolo thought.
Anyway, I’d better get home before Francesca starts to worry about me.
*
Will stopped by Sanborn House, hoping to interview the librarian. A dozen students sat scattered at long, library tables, reading and studying, working at laptops, even napping. Others had settled into comfy reading chairs in recessed alcoves that overlooked the college Green. The atmosphere in the library was tranquil and quiet.
Will found Charlotte Cadell hovering over the tea table, arranging rows of sliced cake, scones and cookies on a Calyx ware
He passed through the darkened, domed room where the telescope was housed, into the computer control room. Ravi took off his coat, flipped on the lights, and settled in at the computer console. He soon heard someone enter the building.
“Lois not here, yet?” Paolo Rossetti said, appearing in the doorway.
“No,” Ravi said, looking up. “That’s kind of weird. She’s usually the first one here,” he said, checking his watch.
Their brief preliminaries over, the conversation turned to the subject at hand of theoretical cosmology and to the data they were analyzing.
A text rang on Ravi’s phone.
“Lois says she can’t make it,” Ravi said. “She’s not feeling well.”
“Anything serious?” Paolo said.
“Tummy bug,” replied Ravi.
*
Lois Lieberman did feel a bit sick to her stomach, but it was because she had lied to Ravi and Paolo, something she had never done before, and something so out of character she vowed never to do it again.
But desperate times called for desperate measures, and Lois was desperately in love with a married man who had called in the late afternoon to say he could see her that evening if she could get free.
Lois disliked the subterfuge and the questionable morality of her situation intensely. But when human wiring goes right, the impulse to endure outweighs all else, and Lois rationalized her affair with the belief that her paramour could only be happy with her, and she with him, and that without one another each would suffer. In the urge to thrive, all bets were off.
The man parked his car two blocks away from Lois’s house. He walked the rest of the way under cover of darkness, through the unlit, sleepy streets. Lois let him in the kitchen door at the back of the house where they would not be observed.
“It’s getting late,” Paolo said, looking at his watch. “I think I’ll call it a night. How about you?”
“I think I’ll stay a bit longer,” Ravi said, staring at the computer screen. “I am very encouraged by this data––I just want to look at a bit more. See you tomorrow.”
“Ciao, Ravi. See you in the morning.”
Paolo zipped his coat against the cold night air, and on the way to his car had a sudden thought.
Poor Lois and her stomach bug! I’ll pick up some ginger ale and plain crackers and chamomile tea on the way home, and leave a care package at her door, Paolo thought, filled with the satisfaction of having thought up a good deed for a friend.
*
Paolo parked his car on the quiet street in front of Lois’s house, since he did not wish to wake her with the sound of his car pulling into the driveway. He scribbled a note and stuck it inside the bag of grocery items. Carefully setting the bag on the wrought iron bench next to the front door Paolo began a silent retreat back to his car.
Just as he turned away from the house he caught a brief movement out of the corner of his eye. He focused on the upstairs window where he thought the movement came from, and stood still, waiting to see if anything else would happen. No light came on. All was quiet.
Perhaps it was nothing, Paolo thought.
Anyway, I’d better get home before Francesca starts to worry about me.
*
Will stopped by Sanborn House, hoping to interview the librarian. A dozen students sat scattered at long, library tables, reading and studying, working at laptops, even napping. Others had settled into comfy reading chairs in recessed alcoves that overlooked the college Green. The atmosphere in the library was tranquil and quiet.
Will found Charlotte Cadell hovering over the tea table, arranging rows of sliced cake, scones and cookies on a Calyx ware
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