The last time he'd ventured this way had been a big mistake. He'd come down in May during the annual invasion by busloads of eighth graders from everywhere east of the Rockies. The National Gallery had been crawling with roving, cachinnating packs of barely bridled hormones wrapped in scabrous, whelk-laden skin to whom the epitome of true art and intimate self-expression was spray painting the name of their favorite heavy metal group on a wall.

But then, one of the central pieces on exhibit at the National Gallery at the time had been a huge mural, ten feet high, twenty long, all stark white except for a beige vertical stripe two feet from the left edge.

Maybe the kids were onto something after all, Megadeth Rules indeed.

Duncan hadn't been back since.

Further on, a dirty, unshaven man approached him, wearing a black trash bag, he had the drawstring around his waist, his head and arms poking through appropriately placed slits.

"Got some spare change for an old soldier? " the tatterdemalion said.

Duncan stopped and reached into his pocket. "Which war was that? " "Which one were you in? " the man said.

'"The Korean Conflict, as it is now known." Not true. He'd been in college then, premed. But he wanted to see what this "old soldier" would say.

"Me too." Duncan had to smile. "What if I'd said Vietnam? " '"Was in that one too. I'm the Unknown Soldier." Duncan figured he probably meant Universal Soldier but then again, it was very likely that he couldn't remember his name.

'"Clever rain gear you've got there, soldier. The latest from the House of Hefty, if I'm not mistaken." '"Does the job." Duncan handed him a twenty-dollar bill. The man glanced at it, then did a double take.

"God, man! Thanks! Thanks a million! " "Why not? I expect this to be a good day for me. Might as well be a good one for you too." The fellow began backing away, most likely trying to put some distance between them before Duncan changed his mind. "I'll spend this wisely, I assure you, sir." Duncan laughed. "I'm sure you will."