In the Cool of the Evening

Chapter 1: Abroad When told I was going to Europe on vacation, I was pressed by my friends with suggestions of what—and in one or two cases, whom—I should visit while I was there. I was twenty-one, having just finished my third year in the Architectural Program and eager to experience the culture and see the architectural masterpieces of the Old World. To aid this, I had been working on improving my French and even trying to learn some Italian. One of my friends, who saw me off at the airport, after we’d hugged good-bye, put an envelope into my hand. I looked at it. It was unsealed, but there was a name and address on the front. “Someone you should see, a friend of mine—if he’s still alive. You really must visit him. Just say ‘hello.’ My greeting is in there. It’s also a letter of introduction—feel free to read it. I think he will make an impression on you. He’s—kind of a magus.” My friend grinned at my startled look, but then grabbed my arm. “Look,” he said. “It’s just a suggestion. But I strongly recommend it. You won’t regret it, I promise you.” I shrugged and nodded and, with these puzzling but fateful-sounding words in my ear, put the envelope into the inside pocket of my jacket and went to the security gate of the boarding area.