He sat at the bar silently urging himself to go over and introduce himself, offer her a drink, tell her how much he enjoyed her singing. But as he worked up his nerve a dozen kids his own age burst into the place. The singer, just finished her set, smiled and called to them. They clustered around her.

Kinsman turned his attention to his warming beer. By the time he finished it the students had pushed a few tables 10 together and were noisily ordering everything from Sacred Cows to Seven-Up. The singer had disappeared. It was full night outside now.

"You alone?"

He looked up, startled. It was her.

"Uh . . . yeah." Clumsily he pushed the barstoo! back and got to his feet.

"Why don't you come over and join us?" She gestured toward the crowd of students.

"Sure. Great. Love to."

She was tall enough to be almost eye level with Kinsman, and as slim and supple as a young willow. She wore a black long-sleeved pullover atop her faded denims.

"Hey, everybody, this is . . ." She turned to him with an expectant little smile. All the others stopped their chatter and looked up at him.

"Kinsman," he said. "Chet Kinsman."

Two chairs appeared out of the crowd and Kinsman sat down between the singer and a chubby blonde girl who was intently, though unsteadily, rolling a joint for herself,

Kinsman felt out of place. They were all staring wordless- ly at him, except for the rapt blonde. Wrong uniform, he told himself. He might as well have been wearing a badge that spelled out NARC.

"My name's Diane," the singer said to him as the bar's only waitress placed a fresh beer in front of him. "That's Shirl, John, Carl, Eddie, Dolores . . ." She made a circuit of the table and Kinsman forgot their names as soon as he heard them. Except for Diane's.

They were still eyeing him suspiciously.

"You with the National Guard?"

"No," Kinsman said. "Air Force Academy."

"Going to be a fly-boy?"

"Flying pig," mumbled the blonde on his left.

Kinsman looked at her. "I'm going in for astronaut training."

"An orbiting pig," she muttered.

"That's a stupid thing to say."

"She's wired tight," Diane told him. "We're all a little pissed off."

"Why?"

"The demonstration got called off," said one of the guys. "The fuckin' mayor reneged on us."

"What demonstration?" Kinsman asked.