“Sorry,” he said. “Can’t see too well in here just yet.” He made his way to the main counter in the back, not noticing the intense gaze he was receiving from the Vanek.

“Yes, sir!” said the burly bear of a man behind the counter. “What can I do for you?”

“I’d like something to eat. What’s on the menu?”

The big man winked. “You must he new around here. You don’t get a meal here, you get the meal: local beef, local potatoes and local greens.”

“All right then,” Junior said with a shrug. “Let me have the meal.”

“Good. I’m Bill Jeffers, by the way,” the man said and stuck out a paw.

Junior shook hands and introduced himself.

“Staying around here long, Mr. Finch?” Jeffers asked.

Junior shook his head. “No. Just wandering about the area.” Again the questions about who you were and how long you were staying.

Jeffers nodded and then looked over Junior’s shoulder. “What’ll it be?”

“The meal, bendreth,” said a sibilant voice behind him. Junior turned to face the Vanek he had accidentally jostled on his way in.

“Hello,” he said with a nod.

“Good day, bendreth,” replied the Vanek. He was young and slight with piercing black eyes.

“How are you today?” Junior asked in a lame effort to make conversation. The Vanek interested him and he wanted very much to get into a conversation with one. But finding a common ground for a discussion was no easy matter.

“We are mostly well,” came the reply. Junior noted the plural pronoun and remembered what Heber had told him. It might help to open a conversation.

“‘I’ve heard that the Vanek always use the word ‘we’ in the place of ‘I’ and I’ve been wondering why that is so.”

“It is the way we are,” came the impassive reply. “Our teachers say we are all one on the Great Wheel. Maybe that is so, we do not know. All we know is that we have always spoken thus and no doubt we always shall. There is no Vanek word for a single man.”