“Avrum was convinced that Walt Whitman had written his poetic biography in the poem I am about to read,” I said to the lights and to the silhouettes. “He thought this because Avrum did not believe in passing through life; he believed in living in it, and he knew that living in it was risky, more risky than simply being swept along on the current that he once described to me as ’the little waves called days.’ I did not always agree with his thinking, but in this, I could never find any reason to disagree.”

And then I read them the poem. I did not know how they accepted it. I could not see their faces. But I did know that it was quiet during the reading and when I finished, even quieter.

I closed the book and said, “Now, I want to tell you a story about Avrum, one that he shared with me only a few years ago on one of those melancholy days we all have—the kind of day that makes us remember something so clearly it becomes as real in memory as it was in reality. It is the story of how he could hear her voice, when no one else could. I think you will understand it.”

I heard a cough and the almost whispery sound of movement, as though people were leaning forward in their chairs.

“All of you know that Amelita Galli-Curci built a summer home called Sul Monte, not far from here. The stories are legend about her singing from her porch, and how her voice would drift down over the valley, like a voice out of the skies, and how everyone would stop what they were doing and listen.

“Avrum followed her here, every summer, for the two weeks he had as vacation. He would sit on a bench in Pine Hill and he would listen to Amelita Galli-Curci sing, and he would be at peace.

“He told me that, one day, he gathered his courage and went to Sul Monte and hid in the woods nearby, in a spot where he could watch her house. He wanted to see her, as he had seen her from the opera houses of New York, or from the streets when she left the theater after a performance. He waited for many hours. Late in the afternoon, she came out onto the porch and began to sing the Shadow Song’ from Dinorah—his favorite. In the song, the character, Dinorah, is wandering through a forest of birch trees under the light of the moon. She sees her shadow and imagines that it is a friend, and she invites it to dance and play with her.

“When she finished her singing, she did a small bow to the mountains, and she turned to go back inside.