“Hi,” said Todd. “My name is Todd Milstead.”

The girl stared at him.

“Hi,” she said. “My name is Tina.”

Todd swallowed his irritation.

“Hi, Tina,” he said. “I’m here for the reading.”

“Oh,” said Tina.

“Yeah,” said Todd. “So I was wondering—”

“The reading isn’t until seven thirty,” Tina said, and turned back to her friend.

“No,” said Todd. “I am the reading. I mean, I’m the person doing the reading.”

As Tina took this information in, Todd skimmed the walls wildly for some evidence of the reading’s existence.

“There,” he said, pointing to a small poster on the wall behind Tina.

“I don’t book the events,” she said.

“Then,” said Todd, balling his fists inside his coat pocket, “may I please speak with the person who does?”

This had the effect of making Tina go into a sort of trance. She looked blankly at the wall behind Todd. Then, just as Todd was about to snap his fingers, she said, “Okay,” and picked up the phone.

“He’s here,” she said into it. “The guy! Who else, Hitler?”

She put the phone down. “He’s on his way,” she said to Todd.

Ten minutes later, the door opened and a tall black man with a large beard and enormous, owl-like glasses came in. He walked right up to Todd and shook his hand.

“I am so, so sorry,” he said in what Todd took a moment to realize was a British accent. “Tina is a fucking idiot.”

“Hey!” said Tina, but without much enthusiasm. Todd guessed she’d heard it before.

“Andrew Malcolm,” said the tall man. “Thank you for coming, Mr. Milstead.”

“Todd,” said Todd.

“Has anyone offered you a—what am I saying, of course they haven’t,” said Andrew. “Screw this, let’s go to the pub.”

“Fine by me,” said Todd.

*  *  *

The bartender brought them two drinks.

“What is this?” said Todd, looking down at the muddy drink in front of him.

“Bass,” said Andrew.

“Like the fish?” said Todd.

“Yep,” Andrew said. “It’s imported. About the only thing I miss about the good old United Kingdom. Cheers.”

And he drank half his Bass in one swig. Todd tried to follow suit, but the taste proved too pondish for him.

“It really is very good of you to come,” Andrew said. “A lot of writers, when they look us up on the map and see how far we are from anywhere, phone up and cancel. Some of them don’t even do that. They just fail to show.”

“This is my first time,” said Todd. “Besides, this is exciting. A new town.”

“You’re very kind,” Andrew said. “Loved the book, by the way.”

“You read it?” said Todd. “You have a copy?”

Andrew looked at him. “I have fifty copies,” he said. “I run a bookstore.”

“But,” Todd said, sounding stupid even to himself, “it’s not out yet. Is it?”