Tonight’s venue was a bookstore by the name of Volume, and it was apparently not far from the old Water Tower. Todd located it easily. Volume lived up to its name by being enormous, at least four storeys high and dominating the small plaza that it overlooked. Todd strolled in, feeling reasonably relaxed. Volume had a large magazine section and Todd couldn’t help walking past the newspapers and directing a mental hello at them, like an old friend seen out of the corner of one’s eye.

Taped to a pillar was a picture of Todd—the usual one, he thought, mock-jaded—with the words TODD MILSTEAD AUTHOR OF ALL MY COLORS 7:30 MEZZANINE. Todd located a map of the store, found an escalator, and ascended to the mezzanine.

Todd had always thought that a mezzanine was a kind of half floor, more like a landing that had got slightly ahead of itself. But this mezzanine was almost regal in its ambitions. Bookshelf after bookshelf stretched out in front of Todd, interrupted only by outbreaks of couches. There was, Todd noted, a sort of canteen area, serving coffee and pastries for the benefit of people who liked to get food on their reading matter. And at the back of the mezzanine, in front of a large picture window overlooking the Tower, some people were setting up a microphone in front of a lectern.

Todd looked at his watch. Seven P.M. Guess some people don’t read the papers, part of his brain grouchily announced to itself. Oh, have you been in the paper? responded another part of his brain. Wondering where everybody—anybody—was, Todd walked over to the lectern.

“He’s here!” cried a young woman in enormous red glasses, walking toward him at the same time. Her companions stopped what they were doing, and moved toward Todd almost as if they planned to throw him to the ground. Instead they merely surrounded him and—it seemed to Todd—just stood there and admired him somehow.

“I’m Leah Hansen,” said the woman in red glasses, “and I am so glad you could make it.”

“Yeah,” said a chubby man in a Cars T-shirt, “some of us thought that you’d get a better offer. On account of the Times review.”

“It wasn’t that bad a review, was it?” said Todd.

Everyone laughed as soon as they realized Todd was making a joke.

“We better get you in the office before the masses descend,” said Leah.

“Where are they?” asked Todd. “These masses? I didn’t see anyone as I came in.”

Leah smiled. She led Todd to a large window on their right.

“That’s because you used the front entrance,” she said. “The cops told us to make everyone stand in line by the side entrance. Look down.”

Todd looked down. There were at least a hundred people down there.

“That’s a lot of people,” he said.