22
Lunch was both spectacular and demoralized.
The folding buffet tables once again lined the side of the MacDonald Hall antechamber. Aromatic steam rose from Sterno-heated stainless steel pans. Round trays supported pyramids of thick sandwiches in wraps and pretzel buns and onion rolls. A little round table to the side bore a Vegetarian Meals placard and four small cardboard boxes. Coolers at the end of the table overflowed with ice-covered soda cans.
A couple of attendees had picked up sturdy paper plates from one end of the buffet and picked their way along. Most of the crowd stood in small circles, freshly stunned.
Apparently Lash is dead, let’s eat! wasn’t an effective way to announce lunchtime.
The meager breakfast hadn’t satisfied Dale, and his stomach grumbled at the garlic an
