On Nick’s left there was a long bar with a mahogany railing and six padded barstools—evidently the Tavern portion of the Tavern & Grille. It was “Grille” with an e, he noticed—probably somebody’s idea of a way to add a little class to an establishment that otherwise had none. Across from the bar the room opened into a spacious eating area—the Grille. In the center of the room was a canoe-sized salad bar, currently vacant, with a well-buffed Plexiglas sneeze guard suspended like a tent above it. The room was dotted with round four-tops and eight-tops draped in red-and-white vinyl checkered tablecloths with draperies to match, and there was a single row of red vinyl booths along the far wall. The walls themselves were made of brick with dark wood trim, and little yellow lanterns gave the room a dingy hue. Lovely décor, Nick thought—sort of a Tudor/Swiss/Shakey’s Pizza motif. Part watering hole, part gathering place, part do-it-yourself, part sit-and-serve—a little something for everybody, because everybody in Endor had no place else to go—and neither did Nick.

It seemed to be a quiet night in Endor. Only one table was occupied— a table in the far corner surrounded by a group of teenagers. Nick watched them for a few minutes.

“Pizza for Kojak,” a voice behind him announced.

Nick turned. “Polchak,” he corrected, and handed the boy a twenty-dollar bill. “Do you know those kids over there?”

The boy looked over Nick’s shoulder. “Sure.”

“What high school?”

“Endor.”

That figures. “What’s their mascot?”

“Mountaineers.”

That figures too. “Thanks. Keep the change—your government sends its greetings.”

Nick took the pizza and walked over to the table. As he approached, conversations began to drop off and heads turned to look at him one by one. Without a word he leaned out over the table and set the pizza in the center, then pulled up a chair and sat down—then he opened the box, took out a slice, and began to eat.

The group stared at him in silence.

“Help yourself,” Nick said through a mouthful. “I ordered ‘the works,’ so just pick off anything you don’t like.”

No one moved.

“So how did the Mountaineers do this year?”

There was a long silence before one of the boys ventured to ask, “Football or basketball?”

Nick cocked his head and looked at him. “Now what do you think?”

One of the girls covered her mouth and giggled. “Yeah—we suck at basketball.”

They all laughed—Nick could sense the release of tension.

“Did you go to Endor?” one of them asked.

“I’m from out of town,” Nick said. “I’m staying across the street at the Skyline. I ordered this pizza, but when I got the thing I realized it was too big for me—so I thought maybe you guys could help me eat it. Hope you don’t mind me barging in like this.”