shrieked, beaming with pride at his stroke of insight.
“Well done!” Demetrius hoisted his goblet in salute. The wigged gentleman went on to extol his colleague’s sheer brilliance, affirming that he would be next to don the lime ribbon. The other denigrated his insight as pure luck.
“My consultation is free today. Come, relax,” the reedy voice squeaked out again. There was no doubt it issued from the same stiff. The neighbor was beckoning Lakif and pointing to a sofa nearby. The seat only obliquely faced the scholar.
Fortunately, her overzealous hosts were too engrossed in mutual admiration to notice the invitation. Lakif seized on the offer as a pretext to excuse herself from the florid duo. But should she accept? She briefly feared that she was moving from the frying pan into the fire. But as she had been directed to sit at a sofa somewhat removed from the fellow, Lakif felt that his intentions were probably platonic.
“Have you seen the public baths?” Demetrius suddenly boomeranged back to Lakif. His offer was an unmasked, last-ditch effort to corral the Acaanan. Apparently, he sensed they were losing their hold on the prey.
“Pardon me.” Lakif excused herself from the thorny situation. She thought that her exit would encourage protests, but they accepted the bailout without a fuss. It was all the better, for Lakif was eager to leave the salacious scholars behind.
VII
The Analyst
“T HANK YOU.” T HE A CAANAN DROPPED TO THE SOFA BUT WAS HESITANT TO assume a fully reclined position. Nearby glistened a marble basin for hand washing. “What consultation do you refer to?”
“I couldn’t turn down the opportunity to analyze an Acaanan,” the man tapped his pipe over an ashtray.
“Anal…yze?” Lakif feared there was lewd imagery at play. The two perverts had left her hypervigilant.
“Please, relax. It’s much easier that way,” the scholar cautioned her. The Acaanan looked around hesitantly for others who might be taking an undue interest in the dialogue. Perhaps she had been a bit hasty in abandoning the former pair. At least their mutual revelry diverted some unwanted attention.
“Who are you looking for?” the spectacled scholar queried. “Are you expecting someone?”
Lakif was somehow reminded of Lucretia at this point. Indeed, Lysander and Demetrius hadn’t apparently taken note of the reedy scholar. Was he akin to Lucretia, a will-o’-the-wisp willing to lure the Acaanan into its enchanted realm for hours? Lakif had an idea.
“Excuse me.” Lakif flagged down a scantily clad lad who was strutting by. “I would like a drink, whatever he recommends.” Lakif pointed to the pipe-puffer. If he was indeed a specter such as Lucretia, the waiter wouldn’t be able to see him.
“What do you recommend, doctor?” The waiter’s voice warbled with the maturation of adolescence.
“Two scruples of peony, a pot of steaming water, and two cups,” the doctor replied with a mien of sophistication.
The order taken, the lad scurried off. At least Lakif knew the doctor was of flesh and blood.
“What type of liquor was that?” She questioned the doctor’s choice.
“It’s a tea.”
Lakif groused. She had traded in wine for tea! She looked around a second time.
“I ask again, were you expecting somebody?”
“No. I just thought that…” Lakif faltered before the sober visage. She felt that everyone was staring at her now. Her uneasiness was not lost on the doctor.
“What bothers you so?” The doctor sucked on his pipe, and a white ring rose above his head like a divine halo.
“I thought that others might be…” Lakif fumbled.
“Who?” The gentleman looked genuinely surprised.
“Them!” Lakif’s hand whirled in the air. “The other members!”
“Members? A curious choice for a word, quite phallic. And what are they doing?”
“Watching us…I mean me!” Lakif explained.
“Why would they do that?” The lens of the scholar’s glasses flashed with reflected
“Well done!” Demetrius hoisted his goblet in salute. The wigged gentleman went on to extol his colleague’s sheer brilliance, affirming that he would be next to don the lime ribbon. The other denigrated his insight as pure luck.
“My consultation is free today. Come, relax,” the reedy voice squeaked out again. There was no doubt it issued from the same stiff. The neighbor was beckoning Lakif and pointing to a sofa nearby. The seat only obliquely faced the scholar.
Fortunately, her overzealous hosts were too engrossed in mutual admiration to notice the invitation. Lakif seized on the offer as a pretext to excuse herself from the florid duo. But should she accept? She briefly feared that she was moving from the frying pan into the fire. But as she had been directed to sit at a sofa somewhat removed from the fellow, Lakif felt that his intentions were probably platonic.
“Have you seen the public baths?” Demetrius suddenly boomeranged back to Lakif. His offer was an unmasked, last-ditch effort to corral the Acaanan. Apparently, he sensed they were losing their hold on the prey.
“Pardon me.” Lakif excused herself from the thorny situation. She thought that her exit would encourage protests, but they accepted the bailout without a fuss. It was all the better, for Lakif was eager to leave the salacious scholars behind.
VII
The Analyst
“T HANK YOU.” T HE A CAANAN DROPPED TO THE SOFA BUT WAS HESITANT TO assume a fully reclined position. Nearby glistened a marble basin for hand washing. “What consultation do you refer to?”
“I couldn’t turn down the opportunity to analyze an Acaanan,” the man tapped his pipe over an ashtray.
“Anal…yze?” Lakif feared there was lewd imagery at play. The two perverts had left her hypervigilant.
“Please, relax. It’s much easier that way,” the scholar cautioned her. The Acaanan looked around hesitantly for others who might be taking an undue interest in the dialogue. Perhaps she had been a bit hasty in abandoning the former pair. At least their mutual revelry diverted some unwanted attention.
“Who are you looking for?” the spectacled scholar queried. “Are you expecting someone?”
Lakif was somehow reminded of Lucretia at this point. Indeed, Lysander and Demetrius hadn’t apparently taken note of the reedy scholar. Was he akin to Lucretia, a will-o’-the-wisp willing to lure the Acaanan into its enchanted realm for hours? Lakif had an idea.
“Excuse me.” Lakif flagged down a scantily clad lad who was strutting by. “I would like a drink, whatever he recommends.” Lakif pointed to the pipe-puffer. If he was indeed a specter such as Lucretia, the waiter wouldn’t be able to see him.
“What do you recommend, doctor?” The waiter’s voice warbled with the maturation of adolescence.
“Two scruples of peony, a pot of steaming water, and two cups,” the doctor replied with a mien of sophistication.
The order taken, the lad scurried off. At least Lakif knew the doctor was of flesh and blood.
“What type of liquor was that?” She questioned the doctor’s choice.
“It’s a tea.”
Lakif groused. She had traded in wine for tea! She looked around a second time.
“I ask again, were you expecting somebody?”
“No. I just thought that…” Lakif faltered before the sober visage. She felt that everyone was staring at her now. Her uneasiness was not lost on the doctor.
“What bothers you so?” The doctor sucked on his pipe, and a white ring rose above his head like a divine halo.
“I thought that others might be…” Lakif fumbled.
“Who?” The gentleman looked genuinely surprised.
“Them!” Lakif’s hand whirled in the air. “The other members!”
“Members? A curious choice for a word, quite phallic. And what are they doing?”
“Watching us…I mean me!” Lakif explained.
“Why would they do that?” The lens of the scholar’s glasses flashed with reflected
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