Drove to Chuck’s to pick up the mailing labels today. Nobody was in sight when I got there, and I approached his front door a little cautiously, half expecting one of the wolf dogs to leap snarling at me from the bushes. As soon as I knocked on the door they began baying at me through one of the tall windows. I heard a woman’s voice, scolding, saw an arm in a yellow terry-cloth sleeve pointing down heard “Sit! SIT!” while the big white one, Akita, kept barking defiantly. Finally, the arm grabbed him by his collar and forced him to his haunches before letting me in. Akita kept barking, Chuck’s realtive kept scolding as, followed by the gray, more docile wolf dog, I walked to the back room where Chuck waited.

I talked with Chuck about the labels while the gray dog leapt onto the bed and dug at it with its front paws, tossing its head, begging me to pet it. Akita came bounding in baying, followed by the relative saying, “Don’t scare the poor lady to death.” I assured her I’m not afraid of dogs. She managed to placate Akita with some dog biscuits.

Back at work, I discovered Quina had arrived. She and Charlie and Shelly were getting ready to drive to Sacramento to look at the blue lines and Charlie was in a genial yet obnoxious mood. He wanted me to enter the poll listings into Pagemaker, kept impatiently waving magazines at me and ordering me about, occasionally muttering “Jesus” at my presumed incompetence. I think he was showing off for Quina. It was a relief when they left.

Quina was a attractive woman in her thirties with long, light brown hair, which I remember as always worn loose and falling down her back. I believe at that time she worked for a Bay Area publisher or literary agency. She would occasionally show up at LOCUS and Charlie, smitten and beaming, would practically stand on his head. I was never sure WHY Quina was there, but she and Charlie would have serious conversations in the front room about publishing things. The only reason I can imagine for her going with Charlie and Shelly to Sacramento is to have lunch with them after they checked blue lines at the printer’s.

Quina has since carved out a good career for herself as a successful literary agent.