"You like my nut?" Mark asked. I told him no. "They're roasted, so I had to let the [ m.f.ers] breath."

"Great," I said.

"Man, I need to get them HONEY GLAZED, you know?"

"Great." I was vaguely aware that one of the other subway patrons was listening, and I just wanted Mark to stop. Yet I was sort of jealous and I don't know why. I figured he must be good for something.

*******

We went into this bar and I sat down to relax — Mark was tiring to be around. It was like chaperoning a seventh grade boy. "Don't harass the animals. No I will not run the red light. Stop shouting. That is not a toy. Stay with the group." I closed my eyes and thought of Alexa. She had red hair. Naturally red hair. Long curls with that stuff some women put in it to make it smell amazing. Faintly like apples, maybe, or watermelon. She has lip gloss on, but no lipstick, though a look in her eyes says she's not a total innocent. The teeth, of course, are perfect, and I see them when she says her name. "Alexa," she says, dragging and emphasizing the L.

I opened my eyes to find that Mark had bought me a drink. It was a Zima. He smiled tremendously. When I looked at him to see if he's serious, he started laughing the schoolboy laugh. "Drink up, [B]," he says. How he knew I would tolerate a Zima, I'll never figure out. He of course, was drinking a pitcher himself. I wondered if he plans all this out; if he's really trying to be the character.

"So there's this letter, written by this girl Alexa," I said after a sip of the cool and refreshing Zima.

"Sounds hot."

"Probably," I said, once again amazed at his perception. "She needs our help. Myron was the one who got it, but Alexa, I just know she needs us. Even you."

"So that's what you two were going all gay about."

"Yes, exactly. Myron is going to meet us here; he seems pretty excited. He found something about Dragon's Teeth."

"You mean the play?"

"What? Stay with me." His lack of focus was really starting to annoy me. "There's also Jason Argos. I'm stumped on that one too."

"Sounds like a flame."

"I'm not so sure," I said. I supposed it could be an old flame of Alexa's, but why did it go to Myron? I also didn't like the idea of Alexa being taken. Not that I'd ask her out or anything. Probably not, anyway.

"Buy the next round," Mark said. Good lord was he a quick drinker.

"Barkeep, another Zima please. And a pitcher, I suppose." He seemed like a genial old man, and I sort of wished he would come on this adventure too. He could hand out sage advice, or cryptic pieces of philosophy.

"Here's your drinks, guy." Maybe he wasn't the kind who gave advice.

I passed the beer down to Mark to occupy him so I could chat up the barkeeper. "My name is Charlie."

"Nice name, guy."

"That's Mark," I said, pointing to Mark, who was entranced by the Jukebox in the corner.

"That guy's a drinker for sure," the bartender said.

"Have you ever heard of Dragon's Teeth?" I asked. I could tell that Zima was working . . . and that I sort of liked it.

"I got nothing, Chuck."

"Oh well," I said. "Got any advice?"

"Advice for what?"

"Oh, sorry. I'm on a journey."

"Bring extra socks, Chuck."

"Thanks," I said, when I hear Toto come on and Mark comes back with a giant grin.

"I put in 20 songs!"

"Great," I said.