Chapter Two


Ian Davis wasn't exactly thrilled to be my roommate. He'd been expecting his best friend, Charles, to be in the room instead of me. Once we'd discussed who the hell I was and what I was doing there, he told me that he was the youngest of three brothers. His home was in Chicago, and he was a junior here at Rhaven. He'd come to Rhaven as a freshman and his roommate quickly became his best friend. Charles was from Texas, and the last Ian had heard he was supposed to be returning to Rhaven that morning. He didn't understand why he wasn't there and I was in his place. We struck a deal that we'd at least try to be nice to each other while he found out what happened and attempted to fix the "problem." My first meeting with my roommate didn't turn out as I'd thought it would, but it wasn't much easier, either.

As the quad filled with the other boys from Social Services, Ian became more and more irritated. He had only one friend in the quad that had lived in the quad for the last three years. Travis Atkins was easily the best looking boy I'd ever seen. He had clear, even features topped with black hair. His dark eyes looked as if they'd been recently painted, moving sculptures. His body was thin, but not overly so. From what I could see he looked like a swimmer. He was having the same problem as Ian when he arrived to find another boy in his room.

Jon Curry was one of the "Poor Boys" as we would later become known. His honest face, gray eyes and dark hair all came together to make him look friendly. He tried to be pleasant to Travis while he explained that he was new in the school and didn't know anything about the previous room mate. Travis's attitude was harsh, and we learned as time went on that it would remain that way whenever he was in the company of one of the "Poor Boys". He, in fact, was the one to brand us with that name later that first day.

"He's insufferable," I told Dr. Carlo when I met with him on Friday. "He thinks that we don't belong there, and he does everything in his power to make us feel uncomfortable."

"Have you discussed this with Mr. Colson?" asked Dr. Carlo as he filled out information in my chart.

"I don't see the point really," I replied. "He isn't violent, and he doesn't go too far. Besides, the only time he spends any time in the dorm is right before bed. He is usually off with other friends."

"Well then I suggest you just sit tight," said Dr. Carlo. "I did some checking on Rhaven Academy, and I believe that you really will get a great education there. I wish that they'd done more to keep the truth of where you and the other boys had come from, but there's not much I can do about that. Ms. Bennet has made sure that I cannot contact you directly at the school."

"Yes," I agreed, thinking about what Ms. Bennet had said when she'd called to talk to me that morning about not getting too attached to Dr. Carlo. "She hasn't made it so that I can't call you, though."

"Well let's just make sure that she doesn't find out that you've been calling me," he said after a moment.

I had no one else to talk to, and I missed talking to Dr. Carlo every day. It was actually Ian that showed me where the phones were, so I guess I had him to thank for my daily calls to Dr. Carlo. Ian and I were at least trying to get along. There were little moments when I thought we'd actually fail, but all in all it really wasn't that hard to get along with him. He didn't like it when Hamilton came into our room to sit on my bed and ask a million questions or when Jon decided to park himself on Ian's bed to "hang out" with us.

Hamilton was the youngest of us all. He was a freshman and I still didn't know his whole story. He'd told me so many things about himself, but mostly he talked about the foster home he'd lived in and why the foster parents decided it wasn't going to work out after having him in their home for eleven years. He was a clingy little guy, and he'd apparently attached himself to me. He didn't get along with Dom, his roommate, but then none of us really got along with Dom. He had a personality that clashed with everyone else's.

I hadn't had any conversations with my reflection since arriving at Rhaven, and I was very surprised to find that I missed them. My reflection wasn't always friendly to me, but at least he was someone to talk to. I'd even stopped thinking it was so insane that we had conversations. I couldn't decide if I was sorry that Hamilton, Jon and Ian took up all of my time when I wasn't in class or not. I really did miss talking to myself.

Hamilton. The boy was certainly clingy. One thing that surprised the hell out of me happened my first night at Rhaven. I was sound asleep in my bed when Hamilton climbed in with me, wrapping his arms around me and sobbing into my shoulder. I didn't know what to do at first, but without anything better thought of I rubbed his back and whispered that everything was going to be all right. He was younger than me, and I thought he was probably just as unhappy to be there as I was.

When I woke up the next morning he was gone. However, he was back almost every night. It was always the same thing, tears, squeezing me and me rubbing his back and telling him everything was going to be all right. He hadn't come in last night, and he never said anything about our nocturnal bonding sessions during the day. I certainly never brought up the subject. I mean, how would we explain that to the others?

"From the sounds of what you've told me about him, I'm sure you're right," said Dr. Carlo when I discussed Hamilton with him. "It sounds like he's just scared and you turned out to be the one he felt safe with. I wouldn't worry about it much."

"What worries me is that he'll be in my bed when I have one of my killer nightmares," I sighed, sitting back in the chair. I was seated across from his desk in his office at the hospital. Ms. Bennet hadn't been called to retrieve me just yet, so we had this time to talk.

I'd started having nightmares about the accident the night after the detective had told me I was shot and that my parents were shot as well. In my dreams, I was the one shooting at them, and my father shot me back to save his life just as the car exploded. I always woke up breathing hard, covered in sweat and gripping the tangled sheets. I'd had the dream three times, but luckily Hamilton wasn't ever in my bed when I woke up from the nightmare. Ian seemed to sleep through them, too. So far I was successful in keeping them secret along with my amnesia. None of the other boys from Social Service liked to talk about their past, so I didn't stand out much when I refused to answer questions. I believed that if any of them found out about my amnesia I'd be treated differently by even the Social Service group. So far I was with them as far as the other boys at school were concerned. I was sure that would change if they learned the truth about me.

We talked about what we were supposed to talk about. My head injury was all healed, and I was in perfect health. Of course he didn't write that in the chart. No, instead he wrote an order for me to return for another check up in two weeks. That way we could chat again without having to sneak. Then it was time to call Ms. Bennet to collect me again and take me back to the school that wasn't exactly as horrible as I'd thought it would be, but it was damned close. I excused myself to use the restroom while he talked with Ms. Bennet when she arrived. I'd just finished doing my business and was about to wash my hands when my reflection spoke, making me jump back from the sink in surprise.

"That isn't what happened," he said, looking at me hard. "I didn't shoot my father, and he didn't shoot me."

"It's just a dream," I said, smiling. I was so happy to talk to myself again that I should have felt stupid, but I didn't. "I know I didn't shoot anyone. I just don't know why the gun was in the car to begin with."

"I don't know why the car had no plates, either," he said. "I don't believe it was stolen, though. I just don't believe it."

"Well, without my memory I can't know for sure about anything," I said, turning on the faucet to start washing my hands. It occurred to me that if I stayed in the bathroom too long, Ms. Bennet would come to find me.

"I need to start thinking about my reaction to Hamilton crawling into bed with me almost every night," said my reflection as I was rinsing the soap from my hands.

"What are you talking about?" I asked, looking up into my own face. I knew what he was talking about, though. I hadn't talked to Dr. Carlo about it, and I wasn't planning on talking to anyone about it. Having Hamilton's body so close to me had a strange effect on me. I didn't believe I was a homosexual, but my crotch didn't seem to care either way. Once Hamilton pressed his body into my side and wrapped his arm around me to put his head on my shoulder, I was hard as a rock.

"I know what I'm talking about," he said. "It doesn't mean I'm gay, by the way."

"I know it doesn't," I said quickly. "It's just weird."

"Well, just so long as I know that," he said, smirking at me. "I'd better get out of this bathroom, though. I've been in here long enough."

"All right, all right," I said, grabbing paper towels to dry my hands. I was so happy to actually be talking again that I didn't want to go back. My reflection was having no part of delaying anything. As I looked at him, my reflection changed to reflect me drying my hands. He was gone.


*   *   *


"It isn't want you think!" I cried, pleading with my father with my eyes as he twisted around in the front seat to look back at me. His eyes were wide and wild as he looked at me. I had to make him understand.

"How can it not be, Brian?" he asked. "I come home from work to find you and your mother covering the windows and making sure all of the doors are locked tight. Then I see suitcases by the stairs. Your mother won't tell me anything, and I know that you know what's going on. Just tell me what I did to make you both want to run away?"

"It isn't you, Dad," I said quickly. "It's me. We all have to go. I don't really know how to explain this, but please believe me. We weren't running from you, Dad."

"Then tell me why we stole this car and took off like lightning!" he demanded. "Why are we running away?"

"Because they're coming for me, Dad," I said quickly. "They're coming, and when they get here they won't stop with just me. They'll kill us all!"

"What have you done, Brian?" he asked, looking at me as if he'd never seen me before.

"Dad, I didn't mean to," I replied, begging him to understand with my eyes. "I wasn't looking for anything. I was just bored. I didn't even know what it was when I found it."

"You're talking about that file?" he asked as his eyes moved from my face to the back windshield behind me. "Oh God!"

I turned around to see the same car that had been circling the block at home coming up behind us. They'd caught up with us! I didn't know what to do. How would we get out of this? Was there any way that we could be safe from them now? There wasn't as far as I could see, but I didn't want to die! I jumped when I heard the first shot. They were shooting at us!

"Down!" cried my father, aiming a gun at the back windshield. I was so shocked I just sat there staring at him. Where did he get a gun? It was the last thing I thought of before he fired his first shot and pain erupted in the side of my head.

"NO!" I cried, sitting up in bed and gripping the sheets that I'd tangled myself in. Already the dream was receding from my memory, but I was still terrified. What had I been dreaming about this time? I didn't think it was the same as the others, but I couldn't remember.

"Calm down," said a voice beside me. I assumed it was Hamilton. He'd finally been there when I had one of my nightmares.

He took the sheet out of my hands and did his best to untangle me. I couldn't see him in the dark, but I was actually happy that he was there. I only hoped that Ian had slept through my screaming. Hamilton pulled the sheet over me as I lay my head back against the pillow. Then he climbed into the bed and wrapped his arms around me. This time he was telling me that everything would be all right. I fell asleep to his whispered assurances that I was safe and no one could hurt me. I only hoped he was right.

I was confused when I opened my eyes the next morning. The room wasn't exactly bright, so I knew I hadn't overslept. Ian's alarm hadn't gone off either. That also told me that it was still pretty early. As I lifted my head off the pillow, I was shocked to see Ian's bed was empty. I was even more shocked when Ian tightened his hold on me and murmured that everything was all right. It hadn't been Hamilton in my bed after all. Ian had finally woke up to my screams. What shocked me was that he'd come over to take care of me and hold me all night. Ian and I weren't exactly friends. Sure we'd agreed to get along, but I never expected this.

When he opened his eyes, he pulled back from me and let go. I saw concern in his eyes, but it was mixed with what looked like fear. That surprised me even more than his being in my bed. What was he afraid of? I was the one having nightmares. What was it that had him like this?

"Brian," he said, looking at me with that same expression on his face. "Are you all right?"

"I think so," I replied. I really didn't want to talk about the nightmare. I couldn't remember it at all, but every time I tried my heartbeat stepped up a notch or two. "What happened?"

"You were having a nightmare," he said, getting out of the bed and standing beside it to look down at me. "A pretty nasty one, I think. You kept yelling, and you'd twisted yourself up in your sheets. I only meant to lie there until you drifted off to sleep again, but I must have dozed off."

Now I understood what he was afraid of. He was afraid that I'd read something else into waking up in his arms. That thought hadn't even occurred to me. I was too worried about not talking about the nightmare to even begin to come up with any assumptions. I decided to put his mind at ease, though.

"Must have been some nightmare," I said, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes and stretching. "Sorry I woke you."

"No worries, man," he said, turning away from me to grab his robe. "Don't, uh, tell anyone about this. 'K?"

"Right," I replied. "This isn't something I'd want everyone to know about. I mean nightmares aren't really a reason to get all terrified and needy."

"Right," he said cocking his head to the side and grinning at me. "I'm gonna go shower. Talk to you later."

For the rest of the day I thought about that nightmare as well as the impossible fact that I'd woken up in the arms of Ian Davis. I guess I never was the brightest bulb in the box. It only occurred to me after lunch that day that Ian might have been more worried about people finding out that he'd spent at least half the night with me in his arms in my bed than anyone finding out that I had a nightmare that required his assistance. Falling asleep was innocent enough, and I was really happy that he'd taken the time to help me relax and get back to sleep. Sure I'd thought it was Hamilton, but did that really matter?

Then I noticed halfway back to class that Ian seemed to be not more than three steps behind me all day. He'd chosen to move to the desk behind mine at the beginning of the day, and since at Rhaven students stayed in the same class all day long he was behind me all day long. He'd sat at the table beside the one I always sat at with Hamilton, Jon and Tristin. I wondered what he was up to. I supposed he could just be trying to make sure I didn't say anything about the events of the previous night.

"Hey, Brian," he said, stepping up to me when I came back to the quad after talking to Dr. Carlo on the phone about the nightmare I couldn't remember. He'd told me not to worry about it, because nightmares were common enough. The fact that I couldn't remember what I'd dreamt didn't spark any warning flags for him either. He'd said that a lot of people have dreams they can't remember.

"Hey, Ian," I replied, sitting down on the couch.

"I was just wondering how you're doing," he said, sitting beside me. "We haven't really had a chance to talk much today."

"I'm all right," I said, thinking that with him not three steps behind me all day long there'd been plenty of chances for him to talk to me, but I didn't say anything about it. "I've been trying really hard not to think about it, actually. I mean it was just a nightmare."

"A really bad one," he said, looking at me hard. "You said some things last night."

I felt my heart skip a beat when he said that. What had I said? I'd been successful so far in keeping the truth from everyone, but if I'd said something to give it away in my sleep Ian had heard. He could possibly already know about my amnesia.

"What kinds of things?" I asked, dreading what he'd tell me.

"Well you were arguing with someone," he said. "I don't know who, but you kept telling them that you were sorry and you didn't mean to do it. Any idea what that means?"

"None," I said with a sigh of relief. I hadn't said anything bad, I surmised. At least that was good.

"Hello, Brian," said Detective Miller as he came into the living room of the quad. My eyes must have been huge as I looked at him. He wasn't supposed to contact me without letting Social Services know about it first. In fact, Ms. Bennet had said that Social Services was supposed to give permission before he could contact me. What was he doing there?

"You're not supposed to be in here," said Ian, standing up.

I realized then that Detective Miller's presence in the quad could very well cause a lot of questions to be asked. I didn't want that. I had to get him out of the quad. I just got up and walked out of the living room, down the stairs and out the door. There were students coming and going from the dorm, but I didn't say anything to any of them. I wasn't unaware of the fact that Detective Miller was following me, either. I was very upset to find Ian following him, though.

"Brian, wait," said Detective Miller. "You have to talk to me."

"No I don't," I replied. "I'm calling Ms. Bennet."

"Won't do any good, Brian," he said. "I'm going to talk to you no matter what she says. There's too much to leave this conversation for after you get your memory back now. I don't even believe that you can't remember anything."

I turned around to face him and was horrified to find not only Ian behind him but Tristin and Hamilton as well. They'd all heard what he said and were looking at me funny. So much for keeping my secret. I hated Detective Miller for doing this. His very presence was killing my secret.

"I don't want to have this conversation with you here," I said. "Call Dr. Carlo and set up an appointment. I'll call Ms. Bennet and tell her that I want to talk to you, but I won't talk to you here."

"Oh, you'll talk to me," he said, grabbing my arm as Tristin and Ian stepped forward.

"Hey," said Ian. "Let him go!"

"He's not breaking any laws," said Tristin while Hamilton ran off back to the dorm.

"He's stalling a murder investigation, and he's going to start talking," said Detective Miller, making both boys' eyes go wide as they looked at me.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I said hotly. "It was an accident, and I don't even remember it. Leave me alone."

"You remember more than you're letting on, Mr. Doe," he said. "Or, wait, it's Carlo now, right?"

I just stood there, looking at him. I couldn't believe he'd gotten into the dorm. Now he'd just shattered my secret with one word, and there was nothing I could do about it. I wanted to run away, but I knew that I couldn't get anywhere with all of them standing there. I just couldn't believe it. I wasn't even sure I was happy to see Hamilton coming back with Mr. Brenner, either. Mr. Brenner was saying something into his cell phone as he approached.

"What's going on here?" demanded Mr. Brenner, looking from me to the detective and back.

"Detective Miller is violating an order from his superior by coming here and badgering me," I said. "I'm on my way to call Ms. Bennet."

"That won't be necessary," said Mr. Colson, coming up behind me. "Mr. Miller, I've put in a call to your captain, and he's very upset. Ms. Bennet is on her way here as well. I suggest that you leave Mr. Carlo alone now."

I sighed as my inner turbulence began to smooth out, but the damage had been done. The whole time this was going on I noticed that Ian, Tristin and Hamilton were staring at me. I knew I'd be the talk of the school by the end of the night, and I'd have questions to answer soon. I didn't want to answer any questions about my past, because I didn't know anything about my past. How could I make them understand without making myself look like a freak?

"Brian, you head back to the dorm," said Mr. Brenner before turning to Ian and the others. "You boys go with him. We'll have a chat with Detective Miller here. Go on, boys."

I didn't wait to be told a second time. Getting away from Detective Miller was exactly what I wanted. Going back to the dorm with Ian, Tristin and Hamilton wasn't something I was looking forward to, though. I didn't want to discuss this, and I really didn't want anyone else discussing this. I didn't really see a way out of it, though. I was probably going to have to tell them everything. I was sure of it when I followed them back into the dorm and right into my room. Ian closed the door once we were all inside. I just walked over and sat on my bed.

"You all right, Brian?" Ian asked as he sat on his bed while Hamilton sat beside me. Tristin just stood there, looking at me.

"I'm fine," I sighed. "I just wasn't expecting him to show up here."

"What was he doing here?" asked Tristin. "I mean, I guess it isn't really important. I just wondered..."

"You don't have to tell us, Brian," said Ian.

I thought about that. I didn't have to tell them anything at all, but that wouldn't stop them from forming their own conclusions. They'd heard Miller say that I was stalling a murder investigation. I was sure they'd have plenty to think about with that running around in their heads. Did I really want them to believe that I was wrapped up in a murder? No, I didn't. I supposed that coming clean was the only option I really had.

"My parents were killed in a car accident," I said slowly, looking at anything but them as I spoke. "I was hurt pretty bad in that accident, and when I finally woke up from the coma I didn't have my memory. I have amnesia. Detective Miller thinks it wasn't an accident because there was a gun in the car. I guess the fire made the gun go off. My parents were shot, and I was grazed. He thinks that something else went on."

"Wow," said Hamilton, looking at me with wide eyes.

"I really don't remember anything," I told them. "I keep having nightmares about it, but the ones I can remember can't be real. I know my father didn't shoot me, because I'm alive. In those dreams I usually die."

"Is that what you were dreaming about last night?" Ian asked, shocking me.

"I don't remember the dream I had last night," I replied, looking at the floor. "I hate those more than the ones where my father shoots me. I already have enough that I can't remember. Having nightmares that I can't remember is like salt in an old wound."

"Why didn't you tell us about this?" Ian asked. "I mean, we probably never will be able to help, but..."

"I didn't tell anyone, because I don't want to be the resident freak," I replied, cutting him off. "Guess that's over now, though. Everyone heard what he said."

"Not everyone," said Tristin. "We were the only ones to follow you outside, and we're not gonna tell anyone. Are we, boys?"

"I won't," said Ian quickly. "No need to have everyone talking, though. We have to tell them something."

"Tell them that Brian saw something and the detective wants to know what he saw," said Tristin. "It isn't exactly a lie, but it keeps the truth out from the open."

"What do you say, Hamilton?" asked Ian. "Can we keep this secret?"

"I didn't hear what the detective said," replied Hamilton. "I was running back to get Mr. Brenner."

"Well then I think your secret is still safe, Brian," said Tristin. "I promise to do my part to keep the other boys from gossiping too much."

I didn't know what to say. Tristin and Ian were looking at me expectantly, but I really didn't know what to say. I couldn't believe that they'd just accepted what I'd said and were willing to keep it secret. This was probably the biggest piece of news in Rhaven Academy's history, and they wanted to sit on it. I had to really rethink my opinions of the boys at Rhaven. Well, I had to rethink my opinion of some of them any way.

"Thanks," I finally said. "That means a lot."

Now I could only hope that they didn't slip up and tell anyone. Ian was the one I was most worried about. We weren't friends exactly. Even after last night's event I didn't think we were magically friends. He'd only followed me around to keep his own secret. Maybe he thought that keeping mine would make me more apt to keep his. I just hoped that was it, because if he talked I would be the talk of the school.

For the rest of the evening I stayed in my room. Tristin and Hamilton sat with Ian and me and we talked about how to keep everyone from talking. We decided that I would have to say something if anyone asked, and I thought that perhaps telling them Detective Miller believed that I saw something I didn't see was as good as anything else. Like Tristin said, it wasn't exactly a lie. It just wasn't the real truth.

"The pictures of the eclipse are in," cried Travis as he bounded into the living room of the quad the next morning. "Ian, your dad's camera takes awesome pictures!"

Ian dropped the magazine he was reading and hopped off the couch to run over to look at the pictures in Travis's hands. I had no idea what they were talking about. As far as I remembered there hadn't been any eclipse, but then I had amnesia. For all I knew there could have been an earthquake. I decided that I really didn't care about an eclipse. I got up and went back to my room. I had studying to do, and the evening news didn't seem all that appealing anymore.

I was reading my History text when Ian came in with pictures in his hand. He sat on his bed and started looking through them, laughing at one or another as he looked. I just tried to ignore him. My reading wasn't all that interesting, though. I was having trouble concentrating.

"Hey, Brian, look at this one," said Ian, getting up and coming over to sit beside me on my bed. He thrust a picture of him, Travis and two other boys I'd never seen before into my hand.

It wasn't the boys in the picture that sparked the reaction in me. It was the sky behind them. The moon covered sun was visible behind them and for some reason the very sight of it sent chills down my spine. My heartbeat accelerated and I was having trouble breathing. Suddenly I wasn't in the dorm room anymore. I was sitting in another bedroom. There were pictures of me with people I didn't know sitting on the desk I was seated at. One picture was of me and my parents. I turned to look at the computer screen in front of me, and the next thing I knew I was jumping off the bed, startling Ian and trying to stuff myself into the closet.

"They'll kill us!" I cried as I tried to get into the closet. The problem was that the bottom half of the closet had drawers, and I was trying to climb on top of them as well as close the closet door. It wasn't working. "They'll kill us all. They know now!"

Then Ian was trying to drag me away from the closet, telling me that everything was fine. People were pounding on the door, and I was still breathing hard. As quickly as the fugue came over me, it was gone. I was blinking my eyes at Ian and trying to figure out what was going on. I had no idea why I was trying to hide or from what.

"What's going on in here?" asked Tristin as he made it inside the room.

"Brian had some kind of fit," said Ian. "I was trying to tell him that he was all right. He kept yelling about someone killing everyone."

"I need to talk to Dr. Carlo," I said, trying to get my breathing under control.

"I'll get Mr. Brenner," said Tristin, leaving the room again.

I thought about what had happened. Ian's picture had caused it, and though I was a little scared to look at it again I needed to see it again. If the same thing happened, then Dr. Carlo would need to know about the picture. I just didn't understand what it was about the picture that sparked such a reaction from me.

"Let me see that picture again," I said, turning to Ian. "I don't know what it was about it, but I need to see it."

"What if it sets you off again?" he asked. "I don't even understand what it was about it that did it the first time."

"Neither do I," I replied. "I just need to see it again."

He looked at me hard for a moment, holding the picture against his chest. He handed it to me slowly, but he didn't look happy about it. I reached out and took it into my hand completely expecting just the touch to set me off again. It didn't, though. Looking at Travis and Ian's smiling faces and the smiling faces of the other two dark haired young men didn't set me off, but when I looked at the eclipse above them I felt a shiver run through me. It was nothing like the last time I'd looked at the picture, but it wasn't comfortable. My stomach wanted to empty itself, and my hands shook. What was it about the eclipse?

"Brian?" Ian queried, looking at me hard. "You ok?"

"I'm fine," I replied. "I don't know what it is about this picture. It makes me nervous now, but nothing like before. What exactly did I say?"

"You just kept saying that someone would kill us," he said. "You said they knew now, or something like that. Knew what though?"

"I don't have a clue," I sighed, turning the picture over. "Who's in this picture with you and Travis?"

"Brady and Dale," he replied. "My brothers." He looked thoughtful for a second before he asked, "Is that what set you off? Brady and Dale?"

"No," I said. "It was the eclipse itself. I don't know why though. I don't even remember an eclipse. When did this happen?"

"The eclipse happened in February," he said. "The fifteenth or sixteenth. We were at Travis's house in Florida. His parents threw a party."

February sixteenth was the day I'd been brought in to the hospital. It made sense that it was probably the same day as the accident itself. I wondered if the accident happened during the eclipse. If that was true then that could be why the picture set me off so badly. I really needed to talk to Dr. Carlo about this. I also needed to show him the picture and get whatever answers he could give me.

A Boy Named Brian