Disappearing Act, Part VI

Monday afternoon.

I went out to call Jane. Mary is going to see her sister tonight. She didn’t say that she was going to bring me, and it’s not going to be me who reminds her.

I already called Jane last night, at her house at the Stanley Club, and the receptionist told me that she had gone out. I thought of meeting her today at her office.

I went to call at the drugstore. Priding yourself on your memory for phone numbers is the best way to forget them. God knows I’ve called that one enough. It’s impossible for me to remember it.

She works at a magazine office – Design Handbook, or Designer’s Handbook, or something like that. Curiously, I’ve forgotten that as well. I must never have paid much attention.

But I do remember the place. I went by to look for it one day. We went out to lunch together. Mary thought I was at the public library.

I took the directory. I knew that the number of Jane’s magazine was high up on the right hand column, on the right hand side. I had looked at it dozens of times.

Today, it wasn’t there.

I found the word Design with a lot of different services. But it was on the left, on the bottom, exactly the opposite. And I wasn’t able to find the name. Usually, after I saw it, I knew that it was that one and soon enough I would recognize the number. Today, know.

I scanned the list every possible way. Nothing resembled Designer’s Handbook. Finally, I took down the number of Design Magazine, but I had the feeling that it wasn’t what I was looking for.

I will finish that later. Mary is calling me to come down to the table. Lunch, dinner, do I know? In any case it’s the big meal of the day since we are both working nights.