The man's voice slipped like velvet into Michel's ear and caught the flame of courage in Michel's chest. The flame somehow refused to ignite.

"I-I'm new-here." Michel listened to his voice as a thing apart and was startled at its clarity and resonance.

Before the man was able to say anything further, one of the orange-drink attendants came over.

"Look it's not that we don't mind ya comin' here for a soda or somethin' ta eat, but ya can't start turnin' this place into-"

Michel suddenly turned and moved into the passing crowd. Again Broadway hovered over and around him. A bus stopped at Michel's elbow and the doors swung open. Digging into his pocket for change, Michel leaped into the bus. Finding an empty seat by a window, Michel sighed deeply as Broadway disappeared behind him.

"I don't care where I go. I don't care what happens to me, but I won't do it that way. That's not right. Oh, if only Bernard was different!"

To Michel's memory came the sharp image of his one-time best friend, a boy named Bernard. All the years of friendship that had so severely come to an end, all the happy moments in Bernard's large home and in the school where they went together, all the promises to remain friends no matter what-these thoughts again returned, and Michel knew that it would be impossible to become a friend. to an older man. An older man would be so different, wouldn't understand or be kind-those two words consumed Michel as the bus sped along darkened streets -kindness and understanding.

But still there remained the fresh, unfulfilled longing. Michel's body ached with a darkness that had to release itself-he thought of a flower coming into bloom and of the sap of the earth that nurtured and brought it to its highest perfection. Michel longed for the contact of a friend.

Washington Square was reached and the driver called out, "Last stop!" Michel go off the bus and walked in melancholy towards the moonlit park and the trees. He saw occasional people sitting on the benches while other people walked their dogs and the students from New York University played guitars and sang in the unused fountain a short distance from the Arch.

"Why can't I be as happy as they are?" Michel silently passed the singing students.

"I hope there's an empty bench somewhere in the dark, where I won't be seen. I don't want anyone to know."

Finding a solitary bench that stood apart from the people, Michel sat down and clumsily lit a cigarette. The air was a bit cool, as it was early Spring. Michel zipped his jacket.

A comely, dark-haired boy approached Michel's bench and, instead of passing by, slowed his pace and, for a moment, looked at Michel with a congenial, warm smile. Michel again felt his heart surge with courage. The dark-haired youth came to Michel's bench in a perfectly easy, natural manner, and sat down.

"Mind if I ask you for cigarette?" The stranger's voice was deep and soft. Michel was impressed on the instant.

"Sure, I've got a lot. Here, help yourself."

"Thanks. One will be fine."

Michel smiled as he lit the stranger's cigarette and watched the orange flame from the match glow for a second on a finely contoured, youthful face.

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