June 18, 2004

Back to work at the library. Today, Tere and Jean ferry me up. I think Jean fears I’ve made a bigger mess than was already there. To be truthful, I fear that too. Lilian and I work to sort out the English books and pull their cards, an arduous task since one box of index cards is still pretty much out of order. But by day’s end we have stacked them up on one of the big tables the kids use for doing homework. “Lilian,” I ask, “do you find this work too much?” But the words are so garbled and the look on her face so completely blank that I grab the handy pocket dictionary and start pointing to words. Abburrido? Bored? No, she answers simply but hinting at a level obsequiousness I thought only possible from a teenager who wants the keys to your new convertible.  Lilian and Professor Lorenzo pull the book-laden table into the bodega, lock up and we’re on our way.
            I pass the evening thinking of nothing and watching English-speaking TV. When it’s time to retire, I scout the room for mosquitoes, as has become my habit, whack a few with a printout of the Dewey summaries, read and call it a day.