"Ramon's our busboy," said Stefanos. "And the bar-back. And the all-purpose resupplier. Anything that's stored down in the bas.e.m.e.nt, you let Ramon get it."

"We got some serious rats in that bas.e.m.e.nt," said James. "You wouldn't catch me down in that motherf.u.c.ker on a bet. Excuse me, Maria."

"Is okay."

"Ramon brings in the lunch tickets along with the bus trays," said Stefanos.

"'Cause we don't want no waitresses comin' around here," said James, "pressuring us to get their food out."

"The waitress always in a horry," said Maria.

"A beeg horry," said James. "You got that right, senorita senorita."

"Ramon will set the ticket down in front of you. You'll slip the ticket in the lip of the top shelf, right here, in the order it came in. Then you call out the order. The time on specials varies. Salads are premade, so they're always ready to go. Burgers take longer to cook, obviously, so you'll want to call those out first, then call out the cold sandwiches from the same ticket later on."

"Don't want to have my burger up there, gettin' cold," said James, "while you're waiting on Maria to put up a chicken salad on toast."

"Right," said Stefanos. "It can get complicated sometimes. The object is to have the hots and the colds from the same ticket come to you at the same time. Maria and James talk to you, let you know where they are in the process. You check the order against the ticket, garnish it, put it out on the reach-through when it's ready to go."

"Ain't all that big a deal, Dimitri," said James, who went to the box and scanned off the Spanish AM station, finding an R&B/disco station on the FM dial.

"My music time up already?" said Maria.

"Yeah," said James. "We back to my joint now."

James closed his eyes and began to sing soulfully to the Seal cut coming from the box, Karras noticing the purple eye shadow on his lids. Past James, Darnell had his arms raised above his head. Ramon was punching Darnell in the stomach with short, alternating jabs.

Darnell smiled. "C'mon with with it, little buddy. That all you got?" it, little buddy. That all you got?"

"Any questions?" said Stefanos to Karras.

"I guess not. Not right now." Karras said to the others, "Nice meeting you all."

"Nice to meet you, man," said James, and Maria gave him a smile.

Stefanos and Karras left the kitchen and stood by the service bar.

"I got the impression Darnell wasn't too happy to see me," said Karras.

"Darnell's a man," said Stefanos. "You're taking away some of his responsibilities. He's a little hurt, maybe, but he'll get over it. And we do need the help. Think you can handle it?"

"Yeah, but -"

"The pay's twenty dollars a shift, cash. That's a hundred a week. Including a lunch and a beer, if you want it. It isn't much, I know. Walking-around money, basically."

"I don't have a problem with the money -"

"Good." Stefanos handed Karras a paper menu. "Here. Have a look at this tonight. Course, you won't learn a thing until you jump in. But familiarize yourself with it anyway. Be here about eleven-thirty tomorrow. Okay?"

Karras said, "Okay."

"See you then." Stefanos lifted the hinged gate and stepped behind the bar.

Karras neared the Asian waitress as he headed for the door.

"Dimitri Karras," he said, stopping in front of her and extending his hand.

"Hey," she said, shaking it. "Anna w.a.n.g."

Karras was out on the sidewalk, b.u.t.toning his coat, when he realized he had taken a job.

THIRTEEN.

ALL RIGHT, JAMES," said Dimitri Karras. He squinted at the ticket hanging in front of him. "I've got a cheddar, medium. A bacon cheddar, medium rare. A provolone, medium. And -"

"Stop there, Dimitri," said James Posten. He dropped three burgers on the grill. "Cheddar medium, provolone medium, bacon cheddar, medium rare."

"That's right."

"Go ahead, man."

"A chicken steak, no cheese, everything."

"Got it. Here comes your hot pastrami, buddy."

Maria Juarez was humming as she halved an egg-salad sandwich on white and put it on a plate. She slid it onto the shelf just as James delivered his pastrami. Karras garnished both sandwiches with chips and pickle spears, pulled the corresponding ticket from the lipped shelf, and placed the two plates on the reach-through. He rang the hotel deskstyle bell there with a strike of his palm and said, "Order up!" into the s.p.a.ce.

Mai put her head in the s.p.a.ce, slapped a ticket on the wood, picked up her order, and carried it away. Karras took the ticket and put it in the back of the line on the lipped shelf.

"Another special," said Karras, reading the ticket. "Darnell, your meat loaf's really moving today. Looks good, too. I know what I'm having for lunch."

"Don't get your heart set on it for lunch." Darnell stood over the soak sink, his back turned to the rest of the kitchen. "How many you think we served?"

Karras checked the hash marks on a pad he kept by his side. "Fifteen by my count."

"I only cut sixteen out of that piece."

Ramon came through the door with a bus tray. As he went by, Karras said, "Ramon, when you go back out to the floor, tell Mai and Anna: eighty-five on the meat loaf."

"One mo?"

"Right."

"Dimitri," said James. "These burgers gonna be up in a minute. You can call out your colds."

"Thanks, James. All right, Maria. I need a cold cut, everything, no onions. A tuna on rye, plain. And a Maria's salad."

Maria laughed. "Jame, the salad moving!"

"I know it, senorita senorita. Good thing you put your name on that one, because it is is your masterpiece." your masterpiece."

Anna w.a.n.g walked in, put a ticket in front of Karras. "Food's coming out great, everybody."

"Thanks, baby," said James. "But I know you didn't come in here to shower us with compliments."

"Well, I was was wondering about the order for my eight-top." wondering about the order for my eight-top."

"You can just get your hot little self back on out there, too."

"All right, I'm gone." Anna buzzed out of the kitchen.

"Hit me, Dimitri," said James. "I'm all caught up."

Karras gave James the new hots, repeated the order, studied his tickets, rearranged them according to cooking times. James crowded the grill with meat, then went to the radio and turned it up.

"Luther Vandross," said James. "Sing it, my brother." James sang the chorus of the song in baritone. Maria looked at him and cracked up. The two of them laughed, hugged each other briefly, then split apart and went back to their stations.

"Jame likes Luther," explained Maria to Karras with a smile. There was a blue mark under her right eye.

"Luther is serious, serious," said James, transferring the burger order onto plates. "I remember listenin' to him when he sang for that group Change, didn't even have his name on the cover of the alb.u.m, and I can remember thinkin', who the f.u.c.k is this? this?"

"You ready, Maria?" said Karras.

"Go ahe, Mitri."

He recited her colds. He didn't repeat the order because by now he knew that you never had to tell Maria twice.

Darnell turned his head halfway around, watched Karras work. Karras was doing a good job, and for a moment Darnell thought he'd tell him. But the moment pa.s.sed, and Darnell went back to his dishes and the sink.

Karras sat at the bar, eating the last of the meat loaf with a side mound of garlic mashed potatoes with gravy pooled in its center. Darnell made a nice meat loaf, not too dry, with just enough onion in it to give it taste.

Karras liked this time of the afternoon. He had done a good job at lunch today, and that was something in itself. He'd prepared his own food after the rush while Maria listened to her half hour on the Spanish station, wrapping her salads away for the night. Then he'd brought his food out to the bar and eaten it quietly, his personal reward. This had been a good day.

A beefy guy in a tweed jacket sat two stools down to Karras's right, nursing a shot of something along with a beer. Karras only knew him as the Irish homicide cop who frequented the Spot. Down the bar sat Happy, staring straight ahead, and beyond Happy sat a couple of GS-10s, arguing over sports trivia while splitting their second pitcher of draft. Mai was behind the stick, her arms folded, a cigarette in one of her thick hands, listening intently to the Carpenters mix she had going on the box.

Karras considered today's lunch. It had gone well. His first few days on the job had been pretty rough; there were a couple of times, when he was in way over his head and the tickets were flowing into the kitchen in bunches, that he thought of just bolting. He'd heard restaurant people talk about being "in the weeds," and that's how it felt. You couldn't see your way out, and the next step was panic.

But it had worked out. And every day he grew more confident and got better at his job. He had begun to figure it out: the rhythm, the personalities, the way James and Maria interacted, knowing when James could take a hot call, watching his body language signal overload and knowing when to pull back and wait. Working the kitchen was a kind of challenge, and he was beginning to beat it. And there was the other thing, too. During the lunch rush he could only think of the task at hand. For two hours every day, he could forget.

"You mind?" said the Irish cop.

Karras looked over. The cop was putting a match to a cigarette. "No, go ahead."

Darnell came from the kitchen and had a seat next to Karras at the bar. He removed his leather kufi and wiped his face with a bar napkin. Mai drifted over and Darnell said, "Mix me up one of your specials, Mai."

"You got it," said Mai.

"So, Dimitri," said Darnell, "how's that meat loaf?"

"Beautiful," said Karras. "I was afraid I wasn't gonna get it, the way it was moving."

"The heel's the best part anyway, you ask me."

Mai served Darnell a mixture of pineapple and orange juice. He thanked her and had a long sip.

"How long have you been cooking?" said Karras.

"I started back when I was doin' this little stretch at Lorton. I guess Nick's already told you about that. I got a job in the kitchen as a dishwasher. This guy that had been cooking for years there kind of took me under his wing."

"You're good at it."

"Yeah, I can put a meal together, I guess. Thing is, Phil doesn't let me stretch out too much here. Wants to keep this a meat-and-potatoes, middle-of-the-road, bar-food kind of place. I'd like to do a whole lot more."

Karras pushed his empty plate to the side. "Listen, Darnell..."

"You don't have to say nothin', man. You're doin' a good job. Things have been running smoother since you got here, and I'm happy about that. I just wasn't suited for that position, that's all."

"You were trying to do too much, is what it was. I can't take too much credit, either. I've had a lot of help. James and Maria have been great."

"Yes, those two sure can do it. 'Specially Maria. She can sense when that food's coming off the grill, like she's seein' behind her back."

Karras drummed his fingers on the bar. "Let me ask you something about Maria."

"Go ahead."

"I've noticed marks on her face -"

"Her husband. He drinks at night and sometimes he drinks too much. When he does, he beats her."

"Can't we do anything?"

"Nick asked her if she wanted us to report the guy. She said no. I think she's afraid. Afraid for herself but mainly for that beautiful girl of hers. So there it is. Everybody's got their own little world of problems they got to deal with, man. We're all out here just doin' the best we can."

Darnell swallowed the rest of his juice and got up off the stool.

"Thanks, Darnell."

"Let me get on out of here and back to those dishes."

Darnell headed toward the kitchen.

"What's up, Darnell?" said the cop.