Social Science

A few days later Mrs. Steiner phones. "I like that Dave Brinkley fellow. So educated and forthright." After she hangs up, Henry calls the psych department at the state college. The secretary corroborates Dave Brinkley's story but adds a significant twist. His name wasn't Brinkley when he applied for the position. It had been changed only after his arrival in California.

Henry drives to the university library and descends into the stacks. He locates back issues of People, Glamour, Mademoiselle. He sees the model in swimsuits, in evening gowns, in every imaginable shade of lipstick. Such teeth, he thinks. Photo after photo she smiles as if she does it for free. Then, in Self, in an article entitled "Blondes Are Back and Bare as Ever!" Henry uncovers the vital statistic he has been seeking. In boldface type the caption under the bikini-clad model reads: "One of the most eligible bachelorettes in America, Christie's looking for a man to complement her busy life-style."

In class that day, Henry stares suspiciously at the rows af faces before him and tries to reconcile the names on the registrar's roster with the students who claim them as theirs. To his own dismay, he realizes he even doubts the authenticity of his prized Agnes. When her thin, braceleted arm lolls weak-wristed in the air, waiting to be acknowledged, Henry can only nod in her direction, forsaking the name that once had given him such pleasure to say.