I had either enlisted or been drafted into an intelligence agency, similar to the Secret Service. Together with another fellow who had also been enlisted, I came to a building to receive my orders. Once inside, we both stood in line with other men who had likewise arrived to obtain their orders. The other fellow and I both thought we would be sent to Kentucky.

I felt pleased about becoming a secret agent. Physically I felt slim, trim and in top shape. I was even attired somewhat for the part, wearing a long beige overcoat, under which I was nattily dressed in tie and jacket.

I stepped up to the officer who was to furnish me my orders – a strong stout man (about 40 years old) dressed in a light brown uniform. I was nervous when the officer spoke to me – he didn't seem to know anything about me – and I blurted out that I had only been in the service for three days. I also mentioned that I had previously been a lawyer.

When the officer informed me that I would be going to Cincinnati, I was surprised because I knew my companion had just received his orders and he was being sent to Kentucky, just as we had anticipated. I couldn't understand why I wasn't also going to Kentucky.

The officer told me which building I should go to when I reached Cincinnati, and on a piece of paper he drew a small diagram of the building. When he traced a circle in the middle of the diagram, I asked him if the circle represented the building's "rotunda." He seemed surprised that I would know about the rotunda, and he said I was correct. I recalled I had previously visited the building, and remembered having seen the central rotunda. When I asked the officer where I should go in the building, he responded that I would go to the library and he marked a spot on the paper where the library would be. When he had finished and I had received my orders, I turned and walked away.

However, after advancing only a few steps, I turned and marched back. I approached a second officer and asked him if he knew whom I would be seeing when I arrived in Cincinnati. This second officer answered that I would be meeting a woman named "Bella Abzug." Recognizing the name, I remembered I had seen this woman before; however I was surprised she would be the person I would now meet. Trying to remember her features, I informed the second officer that I recalled her being a big woman. Appearing puzzled, he looked at me and said she wasn't a big woman, but that she was an ugly woman. I corrected myself, and said now I remembered that she indeed was an ugly woman and not a big woman. The second officer gave me a skeptical look, as if he were uncertain he could trust what I was saying.

In my hand I was carrying two books; one book resembled a calendar planer, while the other was a regular hard cover book with a dust cover displaying a photograph of someone on the front. Since I wasn't entirely sure how to spell the woman's name, I asked the second officer if he could write her name on the hard cover book. After I handed the book to him, he signed the name "Bella Abzug" right across the front of the photograph on the dust cover, and then signed his own name at the bottom of the dust cover. I hadn't intended for him to write on the cover, but he had done so and it was too late to change now. I thought I would probably end up having other people sign the book and keep it as an autograph book.

While I had been talking with the second officer, I had also mentioned to him that I was a lawyer. When I was finally finished and walking away, I realized it had been a mistake to mention to either of the two officers that I was an attorney. Clearly the mention of my being an attorney had put both officers on the defensive, because even though they were my superiors, they wondered if I were more intelligent than they. I concluded that people would be friendlier to me in the future if I neglected to mention that I was a lawyer.

***

I was sitting in the shadowy rotunda of a large building. Carolina (who somewhat also resembled Louise) was seated close by. Carolina had also been recruited into the secret service, but she would be traveling to a different location than I. We would soon be separating, she going her way and I going mine.

However, I couldn't think about our separating because I was presently preoccupied with reaching my destination. Arriving at my destination on time seemed part of a test I was undergoing to determine whether I could handle a difficult situation. I had already traveled far, but I still had a long ways to go, and I was concerned with whether I would make it on time.

Carolina had her own problems: as part of her becoming a secret agent, she had been struck blind. At the moment she was completely absorbed in dealing with her own situation – so much so that she wanted me to simply leave. I felt bad for her, especially since she was blind, and I didn't want to simply abandon her here. But suddenly I realized she was praying to God that I would go away. I turned to her and speaking in her native Spanish, I said, "Tu has rezado y tus rezos han estado ... answered."

I was trying to tell her that she had prayed to God that I would leave, and that her prayers had been answered. However I was unsure whether "rezos" was the correct word for "prayers." And I couldn't remember the Spanish word for "answered." So I just used the English word "answered," which Carolina, being bilingual, understood.

Having said my piece, I turned and tiptoed inaudibly from the rotunda area. I had only advanced a few steps when I turned around and quietly slipped back in. I had forgotten some clothes and a sleeping bag in the rotunda. I picked them up quietly so Carolina wouldn't hear me. I then slipped back out into a side room which had a stairway leading down.

I was about to continue on, when I heard Carolina say something. I turned and saw her walking through the door into the room where I was, holding both hands out in front of her, as if she were trying to feel her way along. Suddenly she tripped on the door sill, screamed and fell to the floor with a crash. I felt sorry for her and wanted to go to her and help her; but realizing that she needed to learn to handle herself, I held back.

When I suddenly heard tiny footsteps, I looked up to see Picasso trotting into the room from the rotunda. I had forgotten that Picasso was here. I was glad to see him go straight to Carolina; maybe he could comfort her.

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