22. The name, part 2.

They sat across from each other on hard wooden chairs in a brightly lit coffee shop. He smelled the aroma of the coffee, waiting for it to cool. She watched him carefully. The place was still crowded. No one paid any attention to them. She spoke first.

"My name is Nan," she said. There was a pause. "What's yours?"

He began to speak, then stopped. She waited. He spoke, very deliberately. "What would it matter what my name is?"

"Well, then I would have something to call you by."

"You can call me anything you wish."

She sipped her coffee. "Okay." Another pause.

"So, how does a guy with no name wind up reciting Buddhist parables in Union Square?"

The coffee had cooled enough that he could drink it. "Is there a better place?"

She frowned. "It's getting a little chilly out there. Do you have some place to go?"

"There wasn't any place I was thinking of going in particular. And it's not too cold out there."

"You must be hungry."

He watched her for a moment, as though listening to a whisper. "Yes. I am a bit hungry."

She gathered her things. "This isn't the place to get food, trust me. I used to work at one of these. Come with me." And they left.