"Karras crossed the avenue, approaching Stefanos and the kid from behind. As he neared them, Karras saw the televisions in the window were all tuned to the same image: Len Bias, wearing that jazzy ice green suit of his, standing out of his chair at the calling of his name.
All right, it was news. But why were they running the draft highlights again, two days after the fact?
"Nick?" said Karras.
Stefanos and the boy turned their heads. The black kid was crying freely, tears running down his cheeks.
"Dimitri," said Stefanos, his eyes hollow and red.
Karas felt hot and suddenly nauseous in the sun. He backed away to a government oak, leafy and full, planted by the curb. Karras stepped into its cool shade.
He closed his eyes and drew a deep breath. It was better there, standing in the darkness pooled beneath the tree.