“Marlies Klamp came in this morning,” he said. “She complained yet again about your recommendation. She didn’t like the book. It would be very nice if you could develop a better sense of our customers.”

“But I do have a good sense of them,” I objected. “Marlies never likes anything.”

“Then get an even better sense of them,” Mr. Rödder said.

He held his face close to mine. His eyebrows looked like wire-haired dachshund fur. They stuck out in all directions. Mr. Rödder’s eyebrows were in a constant state of agitation.

“Otherwise you won’t pass the trial period,” Mr. Rödder said as if it were a matter of life and death, and I couldn’t believe that it would depend on Marlies, of all people.

Marlies hardly left her house anymore, and when she did it was only to complain about something. She complained to the shopkeeper about a frozen dinner that didn’t taste good. She complained to the optician that her glasses were always crooked. She complained in the gift shop that they didn’t have any good ideas for presents, and she complained to Mr. Rödder about my recommendations.

I had gone to see her the previous week. “No one’s home,” Marlies had called through the closed door. I went around her house and looked in through the kitchen window. It was dark and I couldn’t see anything. The window was ajar.

“I’ll be quick, Marlies,” I said. “Could you please stop complaining to Mr. Rödder about me? Otherwise I won’t pass the trial period.”

Marlies did not answer.

“What would you like me to recommend?” I asked through the window. I thought of the day Alaska came to us and I had feverishly tried to think of a name, only to come up with the wrong one. Martin knew the right name immediately.

“I’m going to keep complaining,” Marlies had answered. “Deal with it. Now go away.”

“Fine,” I said to Mr. Rödder. “I’ll get an even better sense of our customers.”

“I very much hope you will,” he said. He put his hands in his pockets and rocked back and forth on his toes. He did this often and his rocking made him seem like he wanted to gallop away that instant and knock someone over with his enormous belly. “That will be all.”

“I’ve also got something on my mind,” I said. “I wanted to ask if I could have a few days off next week. Can you believe it? Someone is coming to visit me from Japan.”

“Good Lord,” Mr. Rödder said, as if a visitor from Japan were an attack of rheumatism.

“Just two days,” I said.

Alaska woke up. He raised his head and wagged his tail, knocking over a colony of promotional poster rolls. Mr. Rödder sighed. “That really is a lot to ask,” he said.