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'You mean money?' I said. Father nodded.

'You've already sunk the money in here?' Franny asked him.

'They'll be starting the lobby before the summer is over,' Father said.

'Then it's not too late!' cried Frank. 'I mean, is it?'

'Unsink the money, Daddy!' Lilly said.

Father smiled benevolently, shaking his head. Franny and I looked out the window at Ernst the pornographer; he was moving past the Kaffee Mowatt, he looked full of disgust. He kicked some garbage out of his way when he crossed the street, he moved as purposefully as a cat after a mouse, but he looked forever disappointed in himself for arriving at work later than Old Billig. He had at least three hours of pornography in him before he broke for lunch, before he gave his lecture at the university (his 'aesthetic hour,' he called it), and then he would face the tired, mean-spirited hours of the late afternoon, which he told us children he reserved for 'ideology' -- for his contribution to the newsletter of the Symposium on East-West Relations. What a day he had ahead of himself! He was already full of hate for it, I could tell. And Franny couldn't take her eyes off him.

'We should leave now,' I said to Father, 'whether we're sunk or unsunk.'

'No place to go,' Father said, affectionately. He raised his hands; it was almost a shrug.

'Going to no place is better than staying here,' Lilly said.

'I agree,' I said.

'You're not being logical,' Frank said, and I glared at him.

Father looked at Franny. It reminded me of the looks he occasionally gave Mother; he was looking into the future, again, and he was looking for forgiveness -- in advance. He wanted to be excused for everything that would happen. It was as if the power of his dreaming was so vivid that he felt compelled to simply act out whatever future he imagined -- and we were being asked to tolerate his absence from reality, and maybe his absence from our lives, for a while. That is what 'pure love' is: the future. And that's the look Father gave to Franny.

'Franny?' Father asked her. 'What do you think?'

Franny's opinion was the one we always waited for. She looked at the spot in the street where Ernst had been -- Ernst the pornographer, Ernst the 'aesthete' on the subject of erotica, Ernst the lady-killer. I saw that the her in her was in trouble; something was already amiss in Franny's heart.

'Franny?' Father said, softly.

'I think we should stay,' Franny said. 'We should see what it's like,' she said, facing us all. We children looked away, but Father gave Franny a hug and a kiss.

'Atta girl, Franny!' he said. Franny shrugged; she gave Father Mother's shrug, of course -- it could get to him, every time.

Someone has told me that the Krugerstrasse, today, is mostly closed to all but pedestrian traffic, and that there are two hotels on the street, a restaurant, a bar, and a coffeehouse -- even a movie theater and a record store. Someone has told me that it's a posh street, now. Well, that's just so hard to believe. And I wouldn't ever want to see the Krugerstrasse again, no matter how much it has changed.

Someone has told me that there are fancy places on the Krugerstrasse itself, now: a boutique and a hairdresser, a bookstore and a record store, a place that sells furs and a place that sells bathroom fittings. This is utterly amazing.

Someone has told me that the post office is still there. The mail goes on.

And there are still prostitutes on the Krugerstrasse; no one has to tell me that prostitution still goes on.

The next morning I woke up Susie the bear. 'Earl!' she said, fighting out of sleep. 'What the fuck is it now?'

'I want your help,' I said to her. 'You've got to save Franny.'

'Franny's real tough,' said Susie the bear. 'She's beautiful and tough,' said Susie, rolling over, 'and she doesn't need me.'

'You impress her,' I said; this was a hopeful lie. Susie was only twenty, only four years older than Franny, but when you're sixteen, four years is a big difference. 'She likes you,' I said; this was true, I knew. 'You're at least older, like an older sister to her, you know?' I said.

'Earl!' Susie the bear said, staying in disguise.

'Maybe you are weird,' Frank told Susie, 'but Franny can be more influenced by you than she can be influenced by us.'

'Save Franny from what?' Susie the bear asked.

'From Ernst,' I said.

'From pornography itself,' said Lilly, shuddering.