 Why does Hank want to eat alone?
The first man to return from beyond the Great Frontier may be welcomed ... but will it be as a curiosity, rather than as a hero...? There he sat between the mayor and a nervous young coed chosen as homecoming queen, and looked out at the police and fire department bands, the National Guard, the boy scouts and girl scouts, the Elks and Masons. Several of the churches in town had shown indecision as to how to instruct their parishioners to treat him. He wanted a meal at his own table, a kiss from his wife, a word from his son, and later to see some old friends and a relative or two. The head of the American Legion and the chief of police, who had escorted him on this trip from the square, didn't ask to go in with him. They held onto each other as if seeking mutual support, the thirty-three-year old woman and ten-year-old boy. So he put him down and told himself that it would all change, that everything would loosen up just as his commanding officer, General Carlisle, had said it would early this morning before he left Washington. Carlisle had said his position was analogous to Columbus', to Vasco De Gama's, to Preshoff's when the Russian returned from the Moon—but more so.
 His family is not treating him like a normal person. Hank just wants to feel normal.
 Aunt Lucille won't shut up about the Ladies' Garden Club.  His family is not treating him like a normal person. Hank just wants to feel normal.  His family is talking too loudly at dinner, and there are too many people in the room. Hank is experiencing sensory overload.  His family was watching him eat like an animal in a zoo. Hank just wants to feel normal.