“Hello,” she said, and then at once, “Do I know you?”
“No.”
“Oh. Okay.” She paused. “What do you want?”
“I want to talk to you.”
“I’m studying.”
“That can wait.”
“That’s what you think,” she said, and went back to her book.
“What is that?” he asked.
“What is what?”
“The book.”
“Greek Mythology,” she said. “Hey... uh... you don’t mind, do you, but I’m really trying to study.”
“That’s all right.”
“Yeah, well... huh?”
“I said that’s all right.”
“Sure, but I can’t study if you keep talking to me, you know what I mean?”
“How old are you?” he asked.
“Eighteen. How old are you?”
“Twenty-one.”
“Okay, now may I study?” she asked.
“I’ve got a better idea.”
“What?”
“Let’s go for a walk.”
“And what happens when I flunk Mythology?”
“I don’t know. What happens?”
“I’ll hate you forever, that’s all.”
“Well, I wouldn’t want you to do that.”
“When were you born?” she asked suddenly.
“January.”
“January what?”
“The tenth.”
“Mmm, that’s Capricorn. Well, that explains it, I guess.”
“What does it explain?”
“Well, never mind,” she said mysteriously. “What’s your favorite month?”
“March.”
“March? Nobody’s favorite month is March.”
“Mine is,” he said. “What’s yours?”
“October.” She shook her head. “March. I never heard anybody say that in my life.”
“March is a good month,” he said, feeling obliged to defend it.
Grace shrugged. “October makes me very sad.”
“Why should it?”
“Because everything dies in October,” she said solemnly.
“If it makes you sad, why should it be your favorite month?”
“Because I’m a very sad person.” She closed the book, and looked at him seriously. “I cry an awful lot. Do you?”
“No, not too often.”
“But you do cry?”
“Yes. Sometimes.”
“I didn’t think men cried.”
“Well...” he said, and shrugged.
“They used to, of course, when they wore armor. In those days.” She paused. “I think it’s very manly of you to admit that you cry sometimes.” She paused again. “I cry all the time, all the time. I see a bird, I cry. I pick up a saltshaker, I cry.” She shrugged. “My brother calls me The Weeper.”
“Well, we’ll just have to make you laugh, then,” Buddwing said.
“That’s very difficult to do.”
“Why?”
“Because I have no sense of humor,” she said.
“Oh, sure you do. Everybody has a sense of humor.”
“No, I haven’t. Really. Not the tiniest shred. Tell me a joke, you’ll see. Not a dirty one, though.”
“Not a dirty one, hmmmm,” Buddwing said. “Well, let’s see.” He thought for several moments and then said, “I don’t know any clean jokes.”
“Well, as long as it’s not too dirty,” Grace said.
“How about a limerick?”
“Okay.”
“While Titian was mixing rose madder—”
“He spied a young lass on a ladder,” Grace said. “I know that one.”
“Well, don’t you think it’s funny?”
“Well, I think it’s clever, yes, but it doesn’t make me laugh.”
“Mmm,” Buddwing said.
“Yes. I really am The Weeper. My brother is right.”
“You seem... very young,” he said suddenly.
“What do you mean? Younger than eighteen, do you mean?”
“Yes,” Buddwing said.
“That’s because I’m a virgin,” she told him.
“Well, I don’t know if that has anything to—”
“Oh, yes, it’s true. You look around you sometime. The virgins seem very young; that’s because we’re all so pure and innocent, you know, pish-posh,” and she laughed.
“Well, there,” he said. “You laughed.”
“Oh sure, I laugh. It’s just I haven’t got a sense of humor.”
“Oh. I see. Well, would you like to take a walk?”
“I don’t know. Are you going to get serious or anything?”
“What do you mean?”
“Are you going to fall in love with me? You know.”
“Well, I... well, I don’t know.”
“Because I can’t fall in love with anyone just now, you see.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t want to.”
“That’s no answer.”
“I want to finish college and then go on for my master’s. Falling in love would just screw everything up, you see.”
“Oh, sure, I can understand that,” Buddwing said.
“But if you want to take a walk, that’d be all right, I guess.”
She smiled briefly and rose from the bench and smoothed her skirt, and he looked at her appraisingly and said, “I think Grace is the perfect name for you, do you know that?”
“No, I’m not at all graceful,” she answered. “And I’m much too short. A girl named Grace should be at least five-seven.”
“You’re about five-four,” he said.
“Yes, I am.”
“You’re tall,” he said, and they began walking.
“I really should be studying my mythology, you know.”
“I’ll help you with it, how about that?”
“Do you know mythology?”
“No. But I can use your book.”
“Well, all right,” she said, and she handed him the text.
“What’ll the test cover?” he asked.
“The chapter on the constellations as related to. It’s up front there someplace. This really is a stupid course, you know. I took it because somebody said it was a snap, but it seems to be more work than all the others put together. Are you a good student?”
“Well, I don’t know yet.”
“I’m terrible. I hate to study is what it is. I always say I’m going to make the dean’s list, and then I never do. Because I don’t study, that’s what it is. Anybody can come along and ask me to go for a walk, and I’ll say sure.” She smiled. “Well, go ahead, ask me some questions.”
“All right, what’s the Pleiades?”
“The Seven Sisters.”
“What are their names?”
“Alcyone, Merope, Celaeno, Taygeta, Maia, Electra, and Sterope.”
“That’s very good. What are they doing up there in the sky?”
“Well, Zeus changed them into doves first, to escape the attentions of Orion, and when that didn’t work, he made them stars.”
“Very good. Do you know the names of the Seven Dwarfs?”
“Yes, of course I do.”
“Name them.”
“Listen, we’re supposed to be doing mythology,” she said, laughing.
“They’re sort of mythology.”
“Yes, but not Greek.”
“No, Disney. What’s the difference? I’ll bet you can’t name them.”
“Oh, sure I can. Dopey...”
“Everyone says Dopey first, have you ever noticed that?”