questions.
She was about to knock again, this time more firmly, when she heard a rustling in the room, followed by the pad of footsteps. There was a clicking, and the door opened about an inch.
Amanda smiled. “Hi. It’s me.”
Katiya opened the door all the way. She was wearing a terry cloth robe, and her soft brown hair was pulled into a ponytail. She smiled. “Hello. Amanda, I believe?”
“Yes. When we met earlier, I didn’t get a chance to properly introduce myself. I hope I didn’t—”
Katiya swept her arm back, inviting her into the room. “You’re not bothering me at all. I’m so glad you stopped by.” Once Amanda was inside, Katiya gestured toward a folding chair near the window. “Please, have a seat. Sorry my room is not more accommodating.”
“Thank you.”
Amanda noticed a laptop and stacks of papers strewn across the bed. Katiya pushed the laptop aside and sat back against a pile of pillows.
“Can I offer you a drink?” The anthropologist lifted a bottle of water in the air.
“No, I’m fine. Thanks though.”
A gust of wind blew a sheet of rain against the window. Katiya glanced briefly at the glass before turning toward Amanda. “So, I hear you teach at UT Austin?”
“I do. I was a graduate assistant for a couple of years, and now I’m a full-fledged professor. Currently my emphasis is on field work and research papers, which suits me just fine.”
“I spent a few months there and loved it.”
Amanda gave her a quizzical look. “I didn’t know that.”
“I was there for maybe two cups of coffee.”
“Did you like it?”
“I probably loved it too much.” Katiya chuckled. “Austin is that kind of place. What happens on Sixth Street stays on Sixth Street.”
A broad smile spread over Amanda’s face. “Funny you mentioned Sixth Street. That’s often the first thing people ask me about when I tell them I live in Austin.”
“It’s probably a good thing I was only there for the summer. No telling what kind of trouble I might have gotten into if I had stayed.”
“It is a great place to live, particularly if you’re young.” Amanda watched as the rain gathered in rivulets on the outside of the window. “I haven’t had much time to socialize, but I’m okay with that.”
Katiya reached over and closed her laptop then pulled one foot toward her. “You know, it’s probably none of my business, but if I could pass along one thing, it’s this: don’t let your twenties pass you by without having a little fun. Unfortunately, that summer in Austin was one of the few times I let my hair down. I wish there had been more of those over the years.”
“But look at all you’ve accomplished. I’d say you’ve done okay.”
“And yet I would’ve traded it for more time with my friends. More time spent being a twenty-something. Perhaps even more time with someone special.”
“You never married?”
Katiya’s eyes fixed on a random stack of papers on the bed. “No, and to be honest, I’ve never even gotten close. When I was about your age, I decided that I was going to be the best anthropologist in the country. I know that sounds a bit cocky, but it was more a search for knowledge than it was a desire for recognition. At least I hope that’s true.”
A gust of wind howled outside, spraying more rain across the window.
After it died down, Katiya continued. “Some say that I’ve achieved that goal. But what does that mean exactly? I guess I’m still trying to find out. I don’t necessarily regret it, although I’d love to have more balance. You know, I’ve made a living studying humankind, and now I’ve discovered I know very little about the humanity around me. It’s the irony of ironies.” She smiled. “But I’m going to change all of that.”
Amanda nodded. “What you say makes perfect sense. It’s amazing how similar our thought processes are.” She raised an eyebrow. “And maybe you’re right. Maybe I do need to socialize more. I’m a
She was about to knock again, this time more firmly, when she heard a rustling in the room, followed by the pad of footsteps. There was a clicking, and the door opened about an inch.
Amanda smiled. “Hi. It’s me.”
Katiya opened the door all the way. She was wearing a terry cloth robe, and her soft brown hair was pulled into a ponytail. She smiled. “Hello. Amanda, I believe?”
“Yes. When we met earlier, I didn’t get a chance to properly introduce myself. I hope I didn’t—”
Katiya swept her arm back, inviting her into the room. “You’re not bothering me at all. I’m so glad you stopped by.” Once Amanda was inside, Katiya gestured toward a folding chair near the window. “Please, have a seat. Sorry my room is not more accommodating.”
“Thank you.”
Amanda noticed a laptop and stacks of papers strewn across the bed. Katiya pushed the laptop aside and sat back against a pile of pillows.
“Can I offer you a drink?” The anthropologist lifted a bottle of water in the air.
“No, I’m fine. Thanks though.”
A gust of wind blew a sheet of rain against the window. Katiya glanced briefly at the glass before turning toward Amanda. “So, I hear you teach at UT Austin?”
“I do. I was a graduate assistant for a couple of years, and now I’m a full-fledged professor. Currently my emphasis is on field work and research papers, which suits me just fine.”
“I spent a few months there and loved it.”
Amanda gave her a quizzical look. “I didn’t know that.”
“I was there for maybe two cups of coffee.”
“Did you like it?”
“I probably loved it too much.” Katiya chuckled. “Austin is that kind of place. What happens on Sixth Street stays on Sixth Street.”
A broad smile spread over Amanda’s face. “Funny you mentioned Sixth Street. That’s often the first thing people ask me about when I tell them I live in Austin.”
“It’s probably a good thing I was only there for the summer. No telling what kind of trouble I might have gotten into if I had stayed.”
“It is a great place to live, particularly if you’re young.” Amanda watched as the rain gathered in rivulets on the outside of the window. “I haven’t had much time to socialize, but I’m okay with that.”
Katiya reached over and closed her laptop then pulled one foot toward her. “You know, it’s probably none of my business, but if I could pass along one thing, it’s this: don’t let your twenties pass you by without having a little fun. Unfortunately, that summer in Austin was one of the few times I let my hair down. I wish there had been more of those over the years.”
“But look at all you’ve accomplished. I’d say you’ve done okay.”
“And yet I would’ve traded it for more time with my friends. More time spent being a twenty-something. Perhaps even more time with someone special.”
“You never married?”
Katiya’s eyes fixed on a random stack of papers on the bed. “No, and to be honest, I’ve never even gotten close. When I was about your age, I decided that I was going to be the best anthropologist in the country. I know that sounds a bit cocky, but it was more a search for knowledge than it was a desire for recognition. At least I hope that’s true.”
A gust of wind howled outside, spraying more rain across the window.
After it died down, Katiya continued. “Some say that I’ve achieved that goal. But what does that mean exactly? I guess I’m still trying to find out. I don’t necessarily regret it, although I’d love to have more balance. You know, I’ve made a living studying humankind, and now I’ve discovered I know very little about the humanity around me. It’s the irony of ironies.” She smiled. “But I’m going to change all of that.”
Amanda nodded. “What you say makes perfect sense. It’s amazing how similar our thought processes are.” She raised an eyebrow. “And maybe you’re right. Maybe I do need to socialize more. I’m a
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