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reporter wedged forward. “Mr. Kinnick, are you concerned that your television show will lose its supporters because of your testimony today?”
    Wally shrugged. “No. I don’t worry about things like that.”
    “Do you intend to campaign for gun-control legislation?”
    “I testified today in favor of this one particular bill. If I learn of other pieces of legislation that I have an opinion about, and if I am given the opportunity to testify, I will. On gun control or any other issue. It’s what they call democracy.”
    Wally glanced in my direction. “Ah, Brady,” he said. “Let’s get out of here.” To the reporters he said, “That’s all, folks. I’ve got an appointment with my lawyer.
    The reporters all began to yell at once.
    “Wait.”
    “Mr. Kinnick, one more question,”
    “But, Walt, what about—”
    But Wally had shouldered his way past them. I caught up with him, and we moved quickly down the corridor and up the stairs. Several of the reporters were following behind us, shouting questions. Wally didn’t stop, and neither did I, until we reached the top of the steps outside the building.
    Down at the foot of the wide stairway, the animal people were still marching with their signs. Wally leaned back against a pillar and looked down at them. “Jesus,” he mumbled.
    Three or four reporters came puffing up to us. Wally straightened up and turned to face them. “Okay, you guys. Enough. Give me a break.”
    “Just one more—”
    “No more questions,” he said.
    The reporters backed off but remained there, as it they were waiting for something else to happen.
    I fished out a cigarette and lit it. “Quite a performance,” I said to Wally.
    “Nah,” he said, shaking his head. “It wasn’t any performance.”
    “You shocked the hell out of them.”
    “I guess I shocked the hell out of me, too.” He smiled wryly at me.
    “Those SAFE guys are kinda pissed.”
    Wally nodded. “Guess I don’t blame them. But if they think I was being frivolous, they’re dead wrong. It would’ve been a helluva lot easier to say what everybody expected me to say, believe me.” He shrugged. “I was awake most of the night, thinking about it. I came to Boston intending to speak against this bill. I still don’t like gun control. I’ve testified on the issue plenty of times. I’ve never supported any kind of gun control before. I believe that weapons are neutral, and you’ve got to deal with the people who misuse them. That’s the NRA line, the SAFE line, and in general I buy it. I just think that if we’re going to have any credibility in this climate of opinion today, we’ve got to show that we’re reasonable and thoughtful, that we’re willing to compromise a little. This bill won’t hurt anybody. Probably won’t help anybody, either. We can give on this one without really giving anything away. I figure just maybe I can crack the stereotype. You know, that gun owners and hunters are all single-minded idiots, or reactionary fascists, or sadistic murderers, or even just irresponsible citizens. Give ’em something to think about. Can’t hurt.” He touched my shoulder and smiled. “Sorry. Guess this thing’s got me a little wound up.”
    I shrugged. “It was great theater.”
    “It wasn’t supposed to be theater, Brady. I just keep struggling with the fact that I’ve gotta go on living with myself.”
    “I was proud of you.”
    “You ain’t got much company today.”
    “You ready to get going?” I said. He gazed down again at the animal demonstrators, who were still chanting, “Kinnick’s a killer.” He nodded. “In a minute. They sound like they’re running out of steam.”
    So we stood there. I smoked and Wally rested his back against the brick pillar, and the reporters eyed us, and the people in animal costumes marched and chanted at the foot of the stairway.
    I had just taken the last drag on my cigarette when Wilson Bailey emerged from the building. He blinked in the May