Feld would not leave the shuttered shop until I took his coat off the peg and held it open. He had agreed the night before to ask Esther about an inspection. By morning he wanted me to carry the request alone. “She'll say no to you,” he said. That was true enough. I kept holding the coat. At last he pushed his arms into the sleeves, took the keys from his drawer, and followed me down the stairs.
We walked toward the borrowed workroom with a full paving stone between us. Feld kept asking what Esther expected him to promise. I said he could ask her himself. “You brought me into this.” I stopped at the curb while a dray passed. There were several things he might have meant, and I could not deny all of them. “I brought you out of your office,” I said. “The rest you'll have to talk about without me explaining it.”
At the workroom stairs, Isaac came down before we could climb. He stood with a hand on either wall. Feld began saying he had come peaceably. Isaac said the people upstairs did not want a visit from their former employer. Behind him another worker appeared, carrying an empty tea glass. Neither raised a hand, but Feld retreated a step. I knew how easily a stair could become a trap. I asked Isaac to tell Esther I was waiting outside.
She came down wearing a work apron, with chalk along one cuff. Feld removed his hat and began speaking too fast about spoiled goods and idle machines. Esther let him run out of breath. Then she asked who was at his entrance. “Nobody,” he said. She looked at me. “I won't be there either,” I told her. That answer cost more than I expected. I had pictured standing nearby, useful and perhaps visibly changed, while the workers came back.
Esther went upstairs for her coat. She returned with Isaac and two women, one carrying a folded measuring tape. Feld frowned at the company but made no objection. We started toward his shop, no longer walking in a pair. I went ahead at crossings, not to stop traffic but because I needed a task that did not require conversation. Once I held out an arm to delay Esther at a curb. She walked around it and judged the crossing herself.
Bell's two men stood outside a lunchroom along our route. One stopped chewing when he saw Feld among us. The other looked at me, then deliberately turned his back. Feld slowed. I had an urge to lead everyone down a different street, as if avoiding their eyes could make the visit safer. Esther kept walking. I caught up beside Feld and matched his short steps. We passed without greeting. Behind us a chair scraped the pavement, but no footsteps followed.
At the shop Feld fumbled the key, tried the wrong one, and muttered at the lock. I reached to steady the ring. He pulled it away and opened the door himself. The air inside had the closed, sour smell of a workroom left idle. Esther went first, followed by the women. Feld hurried after them, already pointing toward the stairs. I put one foot across the sill. Isaac moved into the opening and laid his palm against my chest.
“Not you.” His hand rested almost where Bell's shove had landed. I could have pushed him aside; he was braced badly, one heel against the threshold. Upstairs, Feld called my name, needing somebody to help raise a stubborn shade. For an instant the two invitations balanced: familiar work above, refusal in front of me. I took my foot off the sill. “Tell him you're able,” I said. Isaac waited until I stepped back, then turned and went upstairs.
I crossed to the opposite pavement. From there I could see the upper windows without making another guard of myself. The shade rose in jerks, revealing Feld and one of the women tugging together. Esther opened a sash. Street noise entered the room they had kept from me, and scraps of loose paper stirred on a table. I wanted to knock and explain that I had carried them this far. Instead I walked to the corner and bought nothing.
When I returned, the upper glass caught the pale afternoon. Feld stood near the middle of the floor, listening while the woman with the tape pointed toward a table. Nobody was shaking hands. Nothing I could see amounted to forgiveness, or even a promise to reopen. Then Esther bent over the north-window cutting bench. Another worker took its far end. They dragged it clear of the shadow by the wall. Through the glass, I saw Esther pull the bench into daylight.