I stood up. Frederik and I stood facing each other and I tried to think of something else I could lose, on the spot, so that he and I still had something to look for.

Frederik scratched his bald head. “I should start back,” he said. “How do I get to the House of Contemplation from here?”

“We’ll walk you there,” I said, a little too loud and with the delight you feel when you’ve managed to make an imminent farewell somewhat less imminent. “We’ll just take you all the way to the House of Contemplation.”

We walked along the forest edge, Alaska between us, my hand resting on his back as if on a handrail. We kept walking straight ahead until the neighboring village appeared much too quickly.

“It’s like this,” Frederik announced abruptly when we had almost reached the House of Contemplation. “I’m actually from Hessen.”

“I thought you came from the void.”

“It’s pretty much the same thing. Two years ago, I dropped out of university to—”

“How old are you?” I asked, because suddenly all the questions had become untangled and were ready for use.

“Twenty-five. I dropped out to go to Japan and live in a monastery, and—”

“Why?”

“Stop interrupting me,” Frederik said. “I didn’t interrupt you. I spent a few weeks in a Buddhist monastery. And I decided to follow this path. Actually, what time is it?”

We were standing on the doorstep of the House of Contemplation. A small wreath hung on the door. I recognized the model. The House of Contemplation must have bought it from my mother. The wreath was called Autumn Dream and was constructed out of cloth leaves in atmospheric fall colors. It’s still summer, I thought, way too early for an autumn dream.

Frederik took his watch from his pocket. Way too early, I thought. “It’s way too late,” he said, “I have to go in now.”

Alaska had sat down in front of Frederik as if he wanted to block his way.

“Thanks for your help,” I said softly, because you can’t constantly keep being snatched from the jaws of a farewell. Unless, I thought, the House of Contemplation were to collapse all of a sudden because the walls had become unstable as a delayed side effect of too much primal scream therapy.

Frederik looked at me. “Goodbye, Luisa,” he said. “Meeting you was an adventure.”

“You too,” I said.

Frederik patted my shoulder. I closed my eyes. When I opened them again, Frederik was halfway through the door. The door started to close after him and I sensed that it was a door that, unlike other doors, would close perfectly.