chapter ten

Excerpt from Rhiannon Mary Lougher's diary

'Many a good man has said that man is essentially good. Really? In his world, every man strives his way to the top. Crushing any who dares to get in his way. Man in his essence may be essentially good, but he is moved by his flaws. Those of jealousy, of prejudice, of revenge. The emergence of these flaws can go so far as to possess us, control our thoughts and dispose of any contradicting feelings of happiness.
We are scared of these powerful emotions, for they are beyond our control. So we build walls, construct shields and steel doors around these unyielding forces. Locking them in, chaining them down. Where they fester and rot; eating us up inside. One day they will escape their prisons, and push us over the edge of sanity . . .'

~ * ~
June 23rd, 1998
Toronto, Canada

Mrs. Shephard:	Hello?
Taylor:	Hi Mrs. Shephard!
Mrs. Shephard:	Hello Taylor! How are you?
Taylor:	Fine thanks. Is Liz there?
Mrs. Shephard:	She sure is! I'll just get her for you

In the background, Tay heard Mrs. Shephard shout out,

Mrs. Shephard:	Liz! Phone!
Elisabette:	I'm busy Mom! Can you get them to call back?
Mrs. Shephard:	You'll want to take this call!
Elisabette:	Oh all right!

Tay chuckled, anybody'd think the girl was afraid of phones!

Elisabette:	Hello?
Taylor:	I'm hurt! You didn't want to talk to me!
Elisabette:	Tay? Oh my God! Is that you?
Taylor:	Calm down Liz! It's not like I've died or anything! Don't tell me you're turning obsessive?!
Elisabette:	Haha! Real funny! I haven't talked to you in ages! How have you been?
Taylor:	Oh fine. To hell and back, nearly went psycho in New York. You know, all the usual stuff.
Elisabette:	(laughing) Oh yeah! Nothing out of the ordinary for you! So where are you now?
Taylor:	Toronto
Elisabette:	Performing?
Taylor:	Tonight
Elisabette:	Well, good luck. Not that you'll need it, but anyway.
Taylor:	Thanks.

There was a long pause.

Taylor:	So how's everything been back home?
Elisabette:	Same as always. There's still fans parked on your front lawn.
Taylor:	I overheard Mom and Dad talking the other night; they wanna move.
Elisabette:	That's not surprising. Nine people and only three bedrooms? Crazed fan stalkers camping three feet from your front door? I'd move too!
Taylor:	Yeah. They're already looking at this one house; you know the one a little away from Rhododendron Park, with the hill in the back-yard, that's been for sale for years?
Elisabette:	The big brick one on 77th?
Taylor:	That's the one. We might be getting that one.
Elisabette:	But who'd use it all? That place is huge!
Taylor:	My family's huge!
Elisabette:	True.

Ike walked into the room for the third time, rolled his eyes and glared at Tay. As if he didn't use the phone enough already!

Taylor:	Better wrap this up quick Liz, Ike's glaring bullet-holes in my skull.
Elisabette:	All his friends'd be still out at football practice, who'd he wanna ring now?

Ike's friends consisted mainly of the Eaglevale High varsity football team. Although he and Carlton pretty well refused to talk to each other, they still hung out in the same circles. If they ever ended up in the same crowd, they'd ignore each other and one would conveniently make an excuse and leave. Both Liz and Tay thought it was ridiculous, but where Tessa was concerned, anything was possible. The bitch should have been strangled when she was born!

Taylor:	Who do you think?
Elisabette:	Point taken! (suddenly laughs) Hey, speaking of Tessa, do you remember that night at the Blue Rose?
Taylor:	(suddenly quiet) Yeah, I do. Look Liz, I better go before Ike tries to slit my throat!
Elisabette:	I guess I'll talk to you later then.
Taylor:	Yeah, see ya.
Elisabette:	See ya.

Taylor cut the line, then handed the phone to Ike and walked into his room. Liz just had to bring that up! Granted, she'd left before it'd all exploded, but still. Had she not - even after all these years - put two and two together? But then, she'd always hated Maths. Bolting the door behind him, Tay collapsed, spread-eagled on the bed, trying to force back the memories. The eve of Doomsday. The night before everything had fallen apart . . .

~ * ~
February, 1996
Tulsa, Oklahoma

"Here's another one!" Elisabette crawled out from the ventilation duct in the bedroom wall and tossed another box on the water-bed.
"Careful Liz! You almost hit me with that one!" Still, Rhiannon smiled as she opened it. How many Playboys did Carlton have stashed in this room? She personally thought they were disgusting. Why her older brother liked them so much was beyond her.
"That's the last of the ones in there," They'd found enough to feed the fireplace for months! "Where should we hide them this time?"
"How about we dig a hole in the backyard and bury them?" Rhiannon answered, screwing her nose up in disgust as she flicked through one.
"But Carlton'd freak,"
"Mmm. Stash 'em in the roof of Maya's kennel?" Maya being the next-door-neighbour's dog.
"That's where we hid them last time,"
"You're right, that's the first place he'll look. I don't know. You think of something," Liz smiled to herself. Rhee was getting better with every day. She still hadn't quite recovered from the surgery, but she was getting better. Her best friend had never talked much about the Voices, but Liz had learned the hard way to know when Rhee was being attacked by them. They were like an inexhaustible army. Relentless. They never left Rhiannon alone.
'I wish she'd talk to me about them! Why can't she tell me? I'm her best friend for Pete's sake!'.
At least it was nothing like it had been before, after she'd . . . come back. Liz would never, ever forget that day . . .

May, 1992
Tulsa, Oklahoma

The 'Welcome Home' banners were being straightened for the final time, the balloons secured with a final knot of string. Streamers were hung zigzag across the ceilings, the cake was hidden in the kitchen. The black Jeep pulled into the driveway.
"Quick everyone! She's here!" somebody said, and the quiet chatter silenced. Nobody even breathed too loudly. The front door opened.
"SURPRISE!!" and the noise collapsed into a chaos of 'Welcome home!'s and 'We're so happy you're back!'s. Liz raced up the four carpeted stairs, eager to talk with the best friend she hadn't seen in over a year.
"Hi Rhee!" she cried as she hugged the girl. Rhiannon hugged her back, somewhat reluctantly.
"Um . . . hi," Liz's smile faded. That's when she noticed two thing; that Lew and Arian were anything but happy (the woman's red eyes made it look like she'd been crying). And the other thing. The deep chasms of Rhiannon's dark eyes held politeness, and confusion. There was no joy, or even recognition there at all. She seemed almost bewildered.
"I'm sorry, but do I know you?" Jaw dropped, still as a statue, Liz felt like somebody had punched her in the gut. The only thing she heard was Arian's barely concealed sobs . . .

February, 1996
Tulsa, Oklahoma

'Do I know you? . . . Do I know you? . . . Do I know you? . . . Do I know you? . . .' The words that had echoed in Liz's head for years.
"Hey Liz!" Rhiannon held up a crumpled red flier.
"So?"
"What do you mean 'so'?!"
"Garth Brooks is playing at the Blue Rose tonight; so what?"
"Don't you wanna go?" Liz guffawed. Rhee actually looked surprised!
"No, for three reasons. One, I hate country music. Two, it starts at 10:00pm. And three, the Blue Rose, if you'll remember correctly, is 21-and-over,"
"So?"
"What do you mean 'so'?!"

The knuckle bones fell unnoticed to the floor. Even over the blaring Pink Floyd LP on the record player, both girls heard it. Who'd be coming around at this time of night? Rhiannon raced up the four carpeted stairs and opened the door.
"Hi Tay! What's up?"
"Just returning some of your Mom's plates and stuff. Dad had to go back into work for some reason, so Mom sent them back,"
"If your Dad's going into work, why are you going?"
"I happened to be the one to tick Mom off the most today," and he smiled devilishly. Rhee laughed; she didn't want to know.
"MOM!" Rhee shouted over her shoulder, "Taylor brought your plates back!!"
"Tell your Mom thank-you Taylor!" came the reply from the kitchen.
"I will Mrs. Lougher!" Catching one another's eye, Elisabette and Rhiannon passed a conspiratorial glance.
"Tay?" Rhee asked softly.
"Mmm?"
"Are you doing anything tomorrow?"
"No,"
"Do you wanna stay over?"
"Pardon?"
"Do you wanna stay over?"
"Here?"
"No, in Arkansas! Of course here!"
"But . . . but . . . you're a girl!"
"So?" both Liz and Rhee said at the same time.
"What do mean 'so'?!" and for no reason at all, both girls burst out laughing.

"I WON'T! You can't make me!"
"You can't go if you're not all in black!"
"I don't care! I'm NOT wearing it!"
"It's just a shirt Tay!" Rhiannon sighed. It'd taken her and Elisabette almost twenty minutes to convince Taylor to spend the night, and then over an hour to convince him to come with them on their little escapade. He was one of her best friends, but right now all she wanted to do was stuff a sock in his mouth so he'd shut up!
"Yeah! Your shirt!"
"It has been washed you know,"
"So? It's still your shirt!" Rhiannon sighed again. Tay was just being stubborn. He was acting like she was a leper!
"Oh! Girl germs! Wouldn't wanna get girl germs now would we?" the sarcasm in Liz's voice made Tay blush, but he still wouldn't budge.
They were in Rhiannon's room. Liz was sitting on the bed, Tay was leaning up against its side and Rhee was lying on her rug amidst all the candles and crystals and charms. Rachael was in her room, drawing unicorns; Carlton was spaced out on the lounge, watching some stupid show on TV; Arian and Lew were in the kitchen, Arian was making lunches for the next day - even though that happened to be a Saturday - and Lew was making dinner ('Ever tried roast duck? Dad can roast a killer duck' Rhiannon had said, after taking one sniff of the smells coming from the kitchen). Both of them had laptops set up on the counter, typing whenever the opportunity presented itself. When Taylor had asked, Rhiannon'd explained.
"Mom's a journalist and Dad's a history lecturer at the University. Mom doesn't trust a story not to break just when she hasn't got an article about Rhododendron Park finished, and Dad's always bringing stuff home to mark,"
"What happens if your parents find out we're gone?" Tay asked, still eyeing the black shirt in his hands.
"They won't! For Pete's sake anybody'd think you didn't want to go! Now put on the stupid shirt and let's go!"
"I am NOT wearing that shirt!"

Three figures crept down the street, bundled in every black piece of clothing they could find. Ash blackened faces whipped back and forth; making sure they weren't being watched or followed. 10:24pm. Tay couldn't help glancing over his shoulder at every sound, imagined or not. Sure, Rhiannon and Liz might sneak out of their houses at all hours of the night all the time, but he didn't.
"Taylor!" Liz hissed at him over her own shoulder, "Stop freaking out! You're gonna get us caught!"
"I am not freaking!" he hissed back. Rhiannon hissed at the both of them to shut-up. They kept to the shadows, away from the glare of the street lights, hiding behind hedges in other peoples' front yards.
"Come on!" Liz whispered to Tay, who was nervously dawdling behind.
"Guys," Rhee said softly; they all shut up.
"Coz I got friends in low places, where the whisky drowns and the beers are chasing my blues away, and I'll be okay . . ." with barely contained eagerness, Rhee grabbed her two best friends' hands and ran. There was a bunch of empty crates stashed at the back of the Blue Rose. There was also a relatively low window that looked straight towards the stage, that was occupied now by Garth Brooks. As quietly as they could, the trio stacked boxes up and sat down. Praying the window wasn't locked, Rhee gave it a gentle push. It opened, without so much as a creak.
"Yes!" Rhiannon breathed. Mission complete, they all relaxed and sat back to enjoy the show.

"Hey!" the three ash-blackened faces whipped around to see two burly looking men, one with a moustache, glaring down at them. Quick as a cheetah, Rhiannon jumped down from the boxes and ran. Nobody could run faster than Rhiannon; she had the trophies to prove it. Taylor wasn't far behind her. But Liz had never been much of an athlete. She kept to her newspaper articles; they didn't call her a workaholic for nothing.
"Gotcha!" Liz screamed and kicked, trying to make the moustached security guard let go of her. He didn't. Turning around the instant she heard the scream, Rhiannon ran back to help.
"Come on!" she shouted at Taylor, "We've gotta help her," the security guard wasn't sure what hit him. Instead of one screaming, kicking villain, he had three!
"John! Dammit, help me!" like kittens, Tay and Rhee were grabbed by the scruff of the neck and hauled off the moustached guard.
"Let me go!!" Rhiannon screamed as the two guards dragged their finds into the light.
"Hell John! They're kids!" the moustached guard said, staring at Liz.
"How old are you?" the non-moustached guard, John, asked menacingly, but neither Rhee nor Taylor spoke a word. "Fine. If that's how you're going to be, you can see the manager and not talk to him," underneath the ashes, Rhiannon's face was turning white.

"Come in John, what's the problem?" Mr. Dittus, the manager, looked up from his mountain of paperwork.
"Sorry to bother you Sir, but these are the problem," John pushed the three children into the room. Mr. Dittus put his pen on the table. Bad sign. "Caught them snooping around out the back,"
"Thank-you John. I suggest you get back to where you're supposed to be," the reprimand was slight; John left with the moustached guard and the hint of a smile.
"Well, what may I ask, were you three doing at 11:30 at night on -" Mr. Dittus suddenly stopped. He walked over and, with a hand on the girl's head, turned her face up. His expression softened a little bit.
"Rhiannon Lougher. I should have known,"

"How dare you!!! Running off at all hours of the night, worrying us half to death!! Did you ever stop to think what if something happened to you?! We wouldn't have known where you were! What if you'd been hurt? What if you'd been kidnapped?! God, you could have been killed!!!" Arian raged at the children. Rhiannon sent a pleading look to her father. What had happened to the mediator? Lew had always been the calm one, who never yelled or lectured, who could always see the humorous side to things, who could always ease his wife's anger. But there was no humour there now. What Rhiannon saw nearly brought tears to her eyes. Not anger, but sadness. She could almost see him shaking his head in disappointment, almost hear his despairing thoughts, 'How could you do this Rhee? You've let us down. How could you Rhee?'. He hated her now. She knew he did; he was sitting on a stool, arms resting on the kitchen bench, refusing to so much as glance at her.
"Dad?" she whispered.
"Rhiannon Mary Lougher, are you even listening to me?!" Arian fumed, but her daughter didn't hear.
"Dad?" Rhee said again, louder, more desperate. Lew didn't answer, gave no indication that he'd even heard.
"Dad?!" he turned to his daughter. His baby. Rachael and Carlton both had Arian's bright blue eyes, but Baby Rhee's were deep and dark, so like his own. And she was the middle child, just as he had been in a family of 13 brothers and sisters back in Wales. He hadn't even been Llewelyn Lougher to them, he'd just been another mouth to feed. Not particularly good at anything, except school, but what did learning matter when there was work to be done in the fields? He put in just as much work as the others, and while they got paid, he was told that his wages were his food and the roof over his head.
So he'd gotten a job working in the local general store. According to his family, it was the first thing he'd done right in his entire life. And his parents - no, his father! - had actually expected him to hand over his hard-earned money the second he stepped in the door. It had taken years, but eventually he'd scraped together enough money to pay the train-fare from his home in the mountains and grazing valleys of Northern Gwynedd to Caerdydd, the capital (better known by its English name of Cardiff), and to enrol in the University. He'd never looked back after that.
It'd taken three jobs to pay his way through the first year. That was how he'd met Arian. She'd been the one who'd encouraged him to apply for a scholarship in British history. Which he'd gotten and which had paid for the rest of his university years. In those years, he'd gotten a wife, a well-paying job and enough doctorates and masters degrees to run circles around half the professors! And his parents had said that learning didn't matter when there was work to be done? 'But what if learning is my work?'. He'd written the same thing in a letter to his mother, telling her that he was moving to the USA.
Why Oklahoma? The mountains and the plains? It had reminded him so much of Gwynedd, and the mountains he adored. One day, he'd take Rhiannon back to see those mountains. The blood of the hills ran strong in her veins . . . Maybe he did dote on her a little. Had he been too easy with her? Little things he'd let her get away with, had they built up? How could she have done it? When Arian had found them gone, she'd flipped. Lew'd had to stay calm, when all he wanted to do was get the car and scour the city, looking in every nook and cranny to find where his precious little Rhee had gone. They'd been about to call the police when a phone call from Mr. Dittus had doused the panic and stoked the anger, which had melted into sad disappointment. How could she?
"How could you Rhee?" his voice was tired and sad. Swallowing, Rhiannon stood and took a few steps towards him, the words she wanted to say stuck in her throat.
"Dad . . ."
"Do you know how disappointed I am in you?" With filling eyes, she nodded her head. He hated her. She'd hurt him and he hated her. She'd bought it all on herself. It'd been a stupid idea; not even Garth Brooks was worth her own father hating her.
"Dad . . . I . . . I'm sorry -"
"Sorry?!" Lew's calm finally cracked; he'd been so scared! "You think 'sorry' makes it any better?! You think 'sorry'll forgive you?!" a tear escaped Rhee's eye, "Bloody hell Rhee! I trusted you!! Not only did you put your own life in danger, you risked Taylor's and Elisabette's as well!! Dammit girl, I trusted you!!!" he had her by the shoulders, looking straight in her eyes, trying to make her understand, "What if you'd been killed? You could be lying in a gutter somewhere and we wouldn't have had the faintest idea! Myn Duw girl!! Do you know how scared I was?! What would I do if you'd been killed? Huh? You tell me what I'd do?!" the anger was subsiding, being replaced by the fear, "How could you Rhee?" the tears were rolling down both their cheeks.
"Please don't hate me Dad," Rhiannon whispered. In answer, Lew hugged her. She clutched him to her; he didn't hate her, but it'd come too close.

~ * ~
June 23rd, 1998
Toronto, Canada
Molson Amphitheatre

Grabbing the recently-vacated drum stool, Tay sat down and started pounding the drums. Back in the 60's, it could have been said that he was 'pounding the skins', but thanks to modern technology and animal activists, leather had been omitted from the genetic make-up of drum-kits for a long while. And 'pounding the plastics' just sounded stupid! Safely obscured from view by the cymbals and Zac's crazy antics, Tay took a look around the 16,000+ audience. Most of the signs were pretty much the same as usual; all the standard 'We Luv U's and 'So-&-So Is Mine's. His eyes fell on a bright orange poster near the back; he had to squint to read it. He couldn't help but blush as he did; 'Tay, Sing If You're Horny!'. Oh God! He'd seen some strange posters in his life, but that? . . . Oh God!
'Stop blushing Taylor, for pity's sake!'
That girl was brave, extremely brave!

Extract from the Toronto Sun
'Hanson, the fair-haired, teenaged trio of harmonising brothers from Tulsa, Oklahoma stormed the pop charts last year with the release of their major label debut, Middle Of Nowhere, and its huge hit 'MMMBop'. Last night, they played their first official concert in Toronto at the Molson Amphitheatre. (Hanson actually drew 15,000 hysterical fans to a half-hour show last August at Kingswood, which was part of a YTV broadcast)
But last night's sold-out crowd of 16,000 screaming, jumping, arm-waving fans were just as excited, carrying banners and cardboard signs which proclaimed their love for 12-year-old drummer Zac, 15-year-old keyboardist Taylor and 17-year-old guitarist Isaac.
In addition to roaring their approval, particularly whenever heart-throb Taylor was shown on two big video screens on either side of the stage, the Hanson fans also came bearing gifts.
Everything from stuffed animals to red and white roses to candy to balloons were collected by the Amphitheatre staff at the front of the stage before the concert even began.
Once Zac, Taylor and Isaac finally took their positions - initially aided by three backup musicians before they played alone during the middle of the show - all bets were off.
The teenage girl-dominated audience sprang to their feet and remained there for the entire hour-and-a-half with their arms outstretched and mouths wide open.
Whether it was big hits like 'Where's The Love' and 'Weird' or newer songs like 'River' or 'Soldier' from this year's release, Three Car Garage: The Independent Recordings '95-96, the Hanson faithful dutifully sang and clapped along.
For their part, the golden-voiced brothers seemed more interested in straightforwardly playing their music and hitting their harmonies than presenting any kind of spectacle like those other touring, teen-oriented acts that will follow them this summer at the Amphitheatre, including the Spice Girls, Backstreet Boys, NSync and Savage Garden.
On a plain-looking silver and white stage - although a fake backdrop of a garage came down halfway through the show - all three Hansons handled their instruments in a lively, if not particularly spectacular, fashion while carrying on a continuous dialogue with the appreciative audience.
"Man, you guys really know how to make some noise," Taylor said at one point. They also honoured their elders, explaining they had written the songs 'Stories' and 'With You In Your Dreams' for their mother and grandmother, respectively . . .'
- By Jane Stevenson

The big M loomed up ahead. Thanking the Heavens for the disguise that was his otherwise despised glasses, he pushed them up his nose. On the rare occasions that he actually wore them, they always slipped down. Keeping his head down, he walked into the shortest queue.
"Hi! May I take your order please?"
"Flat black coffee," Coffee? He hated the stuff, why was he ordering it?
"Will that be all?"
"Yes, thanks," Just straight coffee, nothing else?
'God I must be depressed! I suppose gagging this stuff down'll give me something else to think about'.
"Eat in or take-away?"
"Take-away," almost instantly there was a Maccas polystyrene cup on the counter, with a plastic lid and the strong smell of strong coffee.
"That'll be $1.90," Taylor winced; $1.90 for straight coffee? What was the world coming to? He paid and walked outside into the warm night air. Scalding his hands on the cup, he began to wander. He didn't have the faintest idea where he was going, and after a few minutes he didn't have the faintest idea where he was full stop. Not that he really cared, but anyway. He wanted to be lost, he wanted to just walk and walk and walk and never go anywhere, never meet anyone, never be found. Everybody said you had to be a hundred and ten per cent dedicated to 'The Industry', sacrifice so much for it. And they were too right; fame wasn't all beer and Skittles. What had happened to the days when he could walk down the street without getting mobbed, sit down and not be bombarded with requests for autographs, go into Maccas and not get stared at like a freak? Those days seemed like ancient history, a dream that was forgotten upon the waking. Had they existed at all? It had only been a year, but already it felt like the cameras and microphones that were shoved in his face had been an almost natural occurrence, an almost unacknowledged irritant, like a mosquito, going on for his whole life. Did he even have a life any more?
Unsure how, Taylor found himself at the gates to a rather large park. And he remembered Rhododendron. Everything else might have been a sweet dream, but the days he'd spent in Rhododendron park as a kid were too vivid in his memory to be anything but real. Was now, what he thought to be reality, could that be just a dream, and Rhododendron park and the sunny days when he'd rollerblade down the street without being chased, were they real? If it was his choice, he knew which one he'd take. Fame certainly wasn't everything it was cracked up to be.
Without any fear at all, he walked inside the park gates. Let some mugger come, he had nothing but loose change and memories. The place was totally deserted. Not a single addict spaced out in the bushes or homeless person sleeping on the benches, no-one. It was a pretty place. Even this late at night, the ducks were still out on the pond. He could just picture Mackie and Avie bugging Diana for some bread to 'feed the duckies'.
There was a small break in the hedge on his left; if the tiny sliver of a moon hadn't been shining through it, he wouldn't have noticed it at all. It was a large garden of flowers just coming into full bloom, with a small hill in the middle. Without thinking, he walked up and lay down on the soft grass, looking up at the stars that dotted the cloudless sky. They were so beautiful. There was something about these tiny dots of gas, burning millions of light-years away, that enchanted him. If you stared at them long enough, the rays began to look like hands, reaching out, offering a way to the skies where all things came together and found their purpose . . .

Taylor groaned, something was pulling him fast out of the sleep he'd drifted into. He opened his eyes, the glare of the sun almost blinded him. Something wet and warm licked the side of his face.
"Eww!" he bolted up and looked into the concerned black eyes of a collie.
'Are you okay?' she seemed to be asking. Who could be disgusted at a dog so gorgeous for long?
"Yeah I'm fine," he said. The collie tilted its head to one side. For all the world she looked like she was asking if he was sure. Laughing, Tay scratched her gently behind the ears.
"Yes, I'm sure -" he looked at the tag on her red collar, "Lassie. You'd think they'd come up with a more original name wouldn't you?" the dog barked softly in agreement and went to lick him again.
"No! Please!" and he laughed again and patted her. Whining in delight, the big dog rolled on her back.
"Sook!" he smiled and scratched her tummy. "You're just like my cat Lassie, she loves being scratched on the stomach!" Mama. She was back in Tulsa; Liz was looking after her. He'd missed her. He didn't care what his Mom said, Mama was coming with them when they next came to Tulsa.
"Lassie!" a female voice called. Lassie's head shot up. She turned to look at Taylor. "Go on, I'll be fine," waiting long enough for one last scratch behind the ears and she was off, barking a good-bye. Tay smiled. Why had being woken up in a park by a collie dog put him in such a good mood? Hang on! A park? The fog cleared from around his brain; he hadn't gone back to the hotel! They'd all been asleep when restlessness had forced him out, he could just tell them he'd gotten up early and gone for a walk. Yeah, that was plausible, there was no way his parents'd know he'd been out all night. What time was it? A single glance at his watch sent him racing from the park, asking the first person he saw for directions back to the hotel. Another excuse he'd have to add an 'I lost track of time' to!

* * * *

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