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　we　couldn't　look　to　them　for　victories　of　the　human　。spirit；　who　could　we　look　to？　They　had　an　example　to　set　just　as　she　did　as　a　reader　and　morale…booster。　But　she　was　professional　in　her　duty；　reading　to　him　with　high　earnestness；　as　to　a　child；　about　dead　men　who　leave　messages　on　answering　machines。
　　Wilder　and　I　waited　in　the　car。　The　plan　was　that　after　the　reading　the　three　of　us　would　meet　the　Wagon　Wheel　group　at　the　Dinky　Donut；　where　they　would　have　dessert　and　we　would　have　dinner。　I'd　brought　along　a　copy　of　Mein　Kampf　for　that　segment　of　the　evening。
　　The　Treadwell　house　was　an　old　frame　structure　with　rotting　trellises　along　the　porch。　Less　than　five　minutes　after　she'd　entered；　Babette　came　out；　walked　uncertainly　to　the　far　end　of　the　porch　and　peered　across　the　dim　yard。　Then　she　walked　slowly　toward　the　car。
　　〃Door　was　open。　I　went　in；　nobody。　I　looked　around；　nothing；　nobody。　I　went　upstairs；　no　sign　of　life。　There　doesn't　seem　to　be　anything　missing。〃
　　〃What　do　you　know　about　his　sister？〃
　　〃She's　older　than　he　is　and　probably　in　worse　shape　if　you　disregard　the　fact　that　he's　blind　and　she　isn't。〃
　　The　two　nearest　houses　were　dark；　both　up　for　sale；　and　no　one　at　four　other　houses　in　the　area　knew　anything　about　the　Treadwells'
　　movements　over　the　past　few　days。　We　drove　to　the　state　trooper　barracks　and　talked　to　a　female　clerk　who　sat　behind　a　puter　console。　She　told　us　there　was　a　disappearance　every　eleven　seconds　and　taped　everything　we　said。
　　At　the　Dinky　Donut；　outside　town；　Bob　Pardee　sat　quietly　as　the　family　ate　and　talked。　The　soft　pink　golfer's　face　had　begun　to　droop　from　his　skull。　His　flesh　seemed　generally　to　sag；　giving　him　the　hangdog　look　of　someone　under　strict　orders　to　lose　weight。　His　hair　was　expensively　cut　and　layered；　a　certain　amount　of　color　bed　in；　a　certain　amount　of　technology　brought　to　bear；　but　it　seemed　to　need　a　more　dynamic　head。　I　realized　Babette　was　looking　at　him　carefully；　trying　to　grasp　the　meaning　of　the　four　careening　years　they'd　spent　as　man　and　wife。　The　panoramic　carnage。　He　drank；　gambled；　drove　his　car　down　embankments；　got　fired；　quit；　retired；　traveled　in　disguise　to　Coaltown　where　he　paid　a　woman　to　speak　Swedish　to　him　as　they　screwed。　It　was　the　Swedish　that　enraged　Babette；　either　that　or　his　need　to　confess　it；　and　she　hit　out　at　him—hit　out　with　the　backs　of　her　hands；　with　her　elbows　and　wrists。　Old　loves；　old　fears。　Now　she　watched　him　with　a　tender　sympathy；　a　reflectiveness　that　seemed　deep　and　fond　and　generous　enough　to　contain　all　the　magical　coun…terspells　to　his　current　run　of　woe；　although　I　knew；　of　course；　as　I　went　back　to　my　book；　that　it　was　only　a　passing　affection；　one　of　those　kindnesses　no　one　understands。
　　By　noon　the　next　day　they　were　dragging　the　river。
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　　The　students　tend　to　stick　close　to　campus。　There　is　nothing　for　them　to　do　in　Blacksmith　proper；　no　natural　haunt　or　attraction。　They　have　their　own　food；　movies；　music；　theater；　sports；　conversation　and　sex。　This　is　a　town　of　dry　cleaning　shops　and　opticians。　Photos　of　looming　Victorian　homes　decorate　the　windows　of　real　estate　firms。　These　pictures　have　not　changed　in　years。　The　homes　are　sold　or　gone　or　stand　in　other　towns　in　other　states。　This　is　a　town　of　tag　sales　and　yard　sales；　the　failed　possessions　arrayed　in　driveways　and　tended　by　kids。
　　Babette　called　me　at　my　office　in　Centenary　Hall。　She　said　Heinrich　had　been　down　at　the　river；　wearing　his　camouflage　cap　and　carrying　an　Instamatic；　to　watch　them　drag　for　the　bodies；　and　while　he　was　there　word　came　that　the　Treadwells　had　been　found　alive　but　shaken　in　an　abandoned　cookie　shack　at　the　Mid…Village　Mall；　a　vast　shopping　center　out　on　the　interstate。　Apparently　they'd　been　wandering　through　the　mall　for　two　days；　lost；　confused　and　frightened；　before　taking　refuge　in　the　littered　kiosk。　They　spent　two　more　days　in　the　kiosk；　the　weak　and　faltering　sister　venturing　out　to　scavenge　food　scraps　from　the　cartoon…character　disposal　baskets　with　swinging　doors。　It　was　sheer　luck　that　their　stay　at　the　mall　coincided　with　a　spell　of　mild　weather。　No　one　knew　at　this　point　why　they　didn't　ask　for　help。　It　was　probably　just　the　vastness　and　strangeness　of　the　place　and　their　own　advanced　age　that　made　them　feel　helpless　and　adrift　in　a　landscape　of　remote　and　menacing　figures。　The　Treadwells　didn't　get　out　much。　In　fact　no　one　yet　knew　how　they'd　managed　to　get　to　the　mall。　Possibly　their　grandniece　had　dropped　them　off　in　her　car　and　then　forgotten　to　pick　them　up。　The　grandniece　could　not　be　reached；　Babette　said；　for　ment。
　　The　day　before　the　happy　discovery；　the　police　had　called　in　a　psychic　to　help　them　determine　the　Treadwells'　whereabouts　and　fate。　It　was　all　over　the　local　paper。　The　psychic　was　a　woman　who　lived　in　a　mobile　home　in　a　wooded　area　outside　town。　She　wished　to　be　known　only　as　Adele　T。　According　to　the　paper；　she　and　the　police　chief；　Hollis　Wright；　sat　in　the　mobile　home　while　she　looked　at　photos　of　the　Treadwells　and　smelled　articles　from　their　wardrobe。　Then　she　asked　the　chief　to　leave　her　alone　for　an　hour。　She　did　exercises；　ate　some　rice　and　dahl；　proceeded　to　trance　in。　During　this　altered　state；　the　report　went　on；　she　attempted　to　put　a　data　trace　on　whatever　distant　physical　systems　she　wished　to　locate；　in　this　case　Old　Man　Treadwell　and　his　sister。　When　chief　Wright　re…entered　the　trailer；　Adele　T。　told　him　to　forget　the　river　and　to　concentrate　on　dry　land　with　a　moonscape　look　about　it；　within　a　fifteen…mile　radius　of　the　Treadwell　home。　The　police　went　at　once　to　a　gypsum　processing　operation　ten　miles　down　river；　where　they　found　an　airline　bag　that　contained　a　handgun　and　two　kilos　of　uncut　heroin。
　　The　police　had　consulted　Adele　T。　on　a　number　of　occasions　and　she　had　led　them　to　two　bludgeoned　bodies；　a　Syrian　in　a　refrigerator　and　a　cache　of　marked　bills　totaling　six　hundred　thousand　dollars；　although　in　each　instance；　the　report　concluded；　the　police　had　been　looking　for　something　else。
　　The　American　mystery　deepens。
　　14
　　We　crowded　before　the　window　in　Steffie's　small　room；　watching　the　spectacular　sunset。　Only　Heinrich　stayed　away；　either　because　he　distrusted　wholesome　munal　pleasures　or　because　he　believed　there　was　something　ominous　in　the　modern　sunset。
　　Later　I　sat　up　in　bed　in　my　bathrobe　studying　German。　I　muttered　words　to　myself　and　wondered　whether　I'd　be　able　to　restrict　my　German…speaking　at　the　spring　conference　to　brief　opening　remarks　or　whether　the　other　participants　would　expect　the　language　to　be　used　throughout；　in　lectures；　at　meals；　in　small　talk；　as　a　mark　of　our　seriousness；　our　uniqueness　in　world　scholarship。
　　The　TV　said：　〃And　other　trends　that　could　dramatically　impact　your　portfolio。〃
　　Denise　came　in　and　sprawled　across　the　foot　of　the　bed；　her　head　resting　on　her　folded　arms；　facing　away　from　me。　How　many　codes；　countercodes；　social　histories　were　contained　in　this　simple　posture？　A　full　minute　passed。
　　〃What　are　we　going　to　do　about　Baba？〃　she　said。
　　〃What　do　you　mean？〃
　　〃She　can't　remember　anything。〃
　　〃Did　she　ask　you　whether　she's　taking　medication？〃
　　〃No。〃
　　〃No　she's　not　or　no　she　didn't　ask？〃
　　〃She　didn't　ask。〃
　　〃She　was　supposed　to；〃　I　said。
　　〃Well　she　didn't。〃
　　〃How　do　you　know　she's　taking　something？〃
　　〃I　saw　the　bottle　buried　in　the　trash　under　the　kitchen　sink。　A　prescription　bottle。　It　had　her　name　and　the　name　of　the　medication。〃
　　〃What　is　the　name　of　the　medication？〃
　　〃Dylar。　One　every　three　days。　Which　sounds　like　it's　dangerous　or　habit…forming　or　whatever。〃
　　〃What　does　your　drug　reference　say　about　Dylar？〃
　　〃It's　not　in　there。　I　spent　hours。　There　are　four　indexes。〃
　　〃It　must　be　recently　marketed。　Do　you　want　me　to　double…check　the　book？〃
　　〃I　already　looked。　I　looked〃
　　〃We　could　always　call　her　doctor。　But　I　don't　want　to　make　too　much　of　this。　Everybody　takes　some　kind　of　medication；　everybody　forgets　things　occasionally。〃
　　〃Not　like　my　mother。〃
　　〃I　forget　things　all　the　time。〃
　　〃What　do　you　take？〃
　　〃Blood　pressure　pills；　stress　pills；　allergy　pills；　eye　drops；