“Whatever …” Gitta snorted as she put out a forbidden cigarette on a saucer. “Exactly. What’s that gotta do with Tannatek?”

“Nothing.” Anna sighed. “Everything. I was just wondering what his parents do. Where he comes from. Where he lives.”

“In one of those concrete tower blocks between here and the city. The Seaside District. I’ve always thought it was such an ironic name … I see him riding there every day.” She leaned forward and peered at Anna. Gitta’s eyes were blue. Like Abel’s, Anna thought, but still different. How many shades of blue are there in this world? In theory, it must be an infinite number … “Why d’you wanna know all this stuff?” Gitta asked suspiciously.

“Just … so.” Anna shrugged.

“Oh, just so. I see,” Gitta said. “I’ll tell you something, little lamb. You’re in love. No need to turn red like that; it happens to everyone. But you’ve chosen the wrong guy. Don’t make yourself crazy. With someone like Tannatek, all you’ll get is a relationship based on fucking, and besides, you’ll probably catch something nasty. There’s nothing in it for you.”

“Shut up!” Anna said. There was an edge of anger to her voice that surprised her. “We’re not talking about a relationship, or about … about that… Did you ever consider that maybe my worldview is not as limited as yours? That maybe I think about other things besides sex and the next time I’m going to get laid?”

“The next time?” Gitta asked, grinning. “Was there a first? Did I miss something?”

“You’re impossible,” Anna said, getting up, but Gitta pulled her back down onto the white leather couch, which looked as if it was easy to disinfect. Probably came in handy, Anna thought, considering her daughter’s lifestyle.

“Anna,” Gitta said. “Calm down. I didn’t mean to upset you. I just don’t want to see you unhappy. Can’t you fall in love with someone else?”

“I am not in love,” Anna said, “and stop trying to persuade me that I am.” She looked out the huge window, across the development and its too-modern houses. If she squinted, she might be able to render the houses invisible and see the ocean beyond. It was a question of sheer determination. And maybe, if she tried really hard, she could discover something about Abel Tannatek. Without Gitta. Why hadn’t she just kept her mouth shut? Why did she have to tell Gitta that she’d talked to Abel? Maybe because it had been two days and they hadn’t exchanged a single word since then. The soap bubble had closed around Anna again, and the cold wall of silence had closed around Abel. Inside the soap bubble, though, something had changed. There was a sparkle of light. Curiosity.

“Listen, little lamb,” Gitta said as she lit a fresh cigarette. Did her life consist of cigarettes? She made Anna nervous fiddling with them, lighting them, putting them out all the time. “I know that you’re smarter than I am. All those good grades you get, the music … you’re thinking about things other people don’t think about. And of course it’s stupid that I call you little lamb. I know that. But this one time, you really should listen to me. Forget Tannatek. That doll … why does he run around with a child’s doll? A little sister? Well, I dunno. But maybe you should have looked at that doll more closely. Didn’t he say you should be careful with it? Don’t you ever read crime novels? I know you’re always reading books! I mean, it’s none of my business where he gets the stuff he sells, but once he said something about knowing people in Poland. He’s gotta bring the stuff over somehow …”

“You’re saying he’s using this doll …”

Gitta shrugged. “I’m not saying anything. I’m just thinking aloud. I mean, we’re all glad he’s there, our Polish peddler. He still has the best products … don’t look at me like that. I’m no junkie. Not everybody who likes beer is an alcoholic, is she? I just wouldn’t believe everything our dry-goods merchant tells you. He’s just looking out for himself. But aren’t we all?”

“What do you mean?”

Gitta laughed. “I’m not sure. It sounded good though, didn’t it? Kind of like philosophy. Anyway, that story about the doll and the little sister is really touching. And the white noise … maybe he’s a little weird, our Polish friend. But maybe he just invented all that stuff to get your attention. You’re good at school. And he definitely needs help if he’s going to pass exams. So maybe he invented something to get you interested.”

“Right,” Anna said. “He’s trying to get me interested. By not talking to me. Congratulations on your logic, Gitta.”

“But … it does make sense!” Gitta lit up the umpteenth cigarette and gestured with it. “He plays hard to get, lets you suffer for a while, and then …”

“Stop waving that cigarette around,” Anna said, getting up, this time not giving Gitta the chance to pull her back down. “You’re going to set your living room on fire.”

“I’d love to,” Gitta replied. “Unfortunately, it doesn’t burn very well.”

• • •

She had to try. She would try. If Abel talked only to the people he sold stuff to, she’d buy something. The thought was daring and new, and she needed another day to pluck up the courage.

A day of watching Abel, first in lit class, in which he never said a word. He was also in her biology class and math. Silent. He fell asleep during the lectures. She wondered what he did at night. She wondered if she really wanted to know.

It was Friday when she finally decided to take the next step. Tannatek was hanging out near the bike rack, near the end, where only a few bicycles were stashed. His hands were deep in his pockets, the earplugs of his Walkman in his ears, the zipper of his military parka closed right up to his chin. Everything about him looked frozen, his whole figure like an ice sculpture in the February cold. He didn’t smoke; he just stood there staring at nothing.

The schoolyard was nearly empty. On Fridays most people hurried home. Two guys from eleventh grade came over and spoke to Tannatek. Anna stopped dead in her tracks—standing in the middle of the yard, stupidly, she waited. She felt herself losing heart. She thought she saw Tannatek give something to one of the boys, but she wasn’t sure; there were too many jacket sleeves and backpacks in the way to see clearly. She hoped he would say, “Me? You think I’m selling dope? That’s a lot of crap!” And the whole thing would turn out to be just another Gitta story.

The boys left, Tannatek turned and watched them go, and somehow Anna’s feet carried her over to him.

“Abel,” she said.

He started and then looked at her, surprise in his eyes. It was clear no one called him by his first name. The surprise retreated behind the blueness of his gaze, a blue that narrowed as it waited, as if asking: what do you want? He was a lot taller than she was, and his broad, hunched shoulders made her think of the dogs that people kept in the Seaside District. Some of them had old German runes burned into the leather of their collars … suddenly, she was afraid of Tannatek again, and the name “Abel” slipped out of her head, made itself small, and crept into a hidden crevice of her brain, out of sight. Ridiculous. Gitta had been right. From a distance, Anna had dreamed up a different Tannatek than the one standing in front of her.

“Anna?” he said.

“Yes,” she said. “I … I wanted … I wanted to ask you … ask …” Now she had to go through with it. Damn. All the words in her head had been obliterated—by a broad-shouldered, threatening figure. She took a deep breath. “There’s gonna be a party at Gitta’s place,” she said—a white lie. “And we need something to help us … celebrate. What exactly do you have?”

“When?” he asked. “When do you need something?”

It didn’t work like this. Stupid child, she thought, of course he wasn’t carrying around kilos of the stuff; it would have to be delivered later. He was reading her thoughts. “Actually …,” he began, “wait. Maybe I’ve got something for you. Now.”