—Of course, it is.
—That’s a good one, said Woolly, who was always up for a bit of history.
As it was Friday night, there was some traffic and we ended up coming to a stop at the top of the bridge—which provided us with the perfect opportunity to appreciate the view in silence.
—I know another one, said Billy.
Woolly turned toward the back seat with a smile.
—Which one, Billy?
—When Caesar crossed the Rubicon.
—What happened that time?
You could almost hear the kid sitting up in his seat.
—In 49 B.C. when Caesar was the governor of Gaul, the Senate, which had become wary of his ambitions, recalled him to the capital, instructing him to leave his troops at the banks of the Rubicon. Instead, Caesar marched his soldiers across the river into Italy and led them straight to Rome, where he soon seized power and launched the Imperial Era. That’s where the expression crossing the Rubicon comes from. It means passing a point of no return.
—Another good one, said Woolly.
—Then there was Ulysses, who crossed the river Styx. . . .
—I think we get the idea, I said.
But Woolly wasn’t finished.
—What about Moses? he asked. Didn’t he cross a river?
—That was the Red Sea, said Billy. It was when he was—
No doubt the kid had intended to give us chapter and verse on Moses, but for once, he interrupted himself.
—Look! he said, pointing in the distance. The Empire State Building!
All three of us turned our attention to the skyscraper in question, and that’s when the idea hit me. Like a little bolt of lightning, it zapped me on the top of the head and sent a tingling sensation up and down my spine.
—Isn’t that where his office is? I asked, peeking at Billy in the rearview mirror.
—Whose office? asked Woolly.
—Professor Abercrombie’s.
—You mean Professor Abernathe’s?
—Exactly. How does it go, Billy? I write to you from the junction of Thirty-Fourth Street and Fifth Avenue on the isle of Manhattan. . . .
—Yes, said Billy, his eyes opening wide. That’s how it goes.
—Then why don’t we pay him a visit.
Out of the corner of my eye, I could see that Woolly was disconcerted by my suggestion. But Billy wasn’t.
—We can pay him a visit? he asked.
—I don’t see why not.
—Duchess . . . , said Woolly.
I ignored him.
—What’s that he calls you in the introduction, Billy? Dear Reader? What author wouldn’t want to receive a visit from one of his dear readers? I mean, writers must work twice as hard as actors, right? But they don’t get any standing ovations, or curtain calls, or people waiting outside the backstage door. Besides, if Professor Abernathe didn’t want to receive visits from his readers, why would he have put his address on the first page of his book?
—He probably wouldn’t be there at this hour, countered Woolly.
—Maybe he’s working late, I countered right back.
As the traffic began to move again, I pulled into the right lane in order to take the uptown exit, thinking to myself that if the lobby wasn’t open, we were going to climb that building like King Kong.
* * *
? ? ?
Having headed west on Thirty-Fifth Street, I took the left onto Fifth Avenue and pulled over right in front of the building’s entrance. A second later, one of the doormen was on me.
—You can’t park there, buddy.
—We’re just going to be a minute, I said, slipping him a five. In the meantime, maybe you and President Lincoln can get to know each other.
Now, instead of telling me where I couldn’t park, he was opening Woolly’s door and ushering us into the building with a tip of the hat. Capitalism, they call it.
As we entered the lobby, Billy had a look of anxious excitement. He just couldn’t believe where we were and what we were about to do. In his wildest dreams, he hadn’t imagined it. Woolly, on the other hand, looked at me with a frown that was decidedly out of character.
—What? I said.
Before he could answer, Billy was tugging at my sleeve.
—How will we find him, Duchess?
—You know where to find him, Billy.
—I do?
—You read it to me yourself.
Billy’s eyes opened wide.
—On the fifty-fifth floor.
—Exactly.
With a smile I gestured to the elevator bank.
—Are we taking the elevator?
—We’re certainly not taking the stairs.
We boarded one of the express cars.