Carmelita told me to rest after she took a blood draw, and I guess I followed her instructions and dozed off. I woke up when I heard my folks quietly talking. They were sitting near the wall to the right of my bed. It looked like they’d pushed the chairs back so they wouldn’t wake me.

“Hi Mom, hi Dad.”

 “I’m sorry we woke you. You looked so peaceful, lying there sleeping.”

“Mom, don’t be sorry about waking me. I want to be with you and to talk to you. I’ve been thinking about all kinds of questions I want to ask you.”

“Questions?” Dad asked.

“Yeah. I’ve been here a long time, most of it I was in a coma and don’t remember anything until I woke up yesterday. So a lot of time’s gone by, and I want to know what’s been going on. And I want to know about Mrs. Santoni and Quin and him supposedly searching for me. Was the story that I disappeared on TV and in the newspapers? Did a lot...”

Dad put his hand up, palm forward, and started to laugh. “Hold up, Brian, hold up! We’ll answer all of your questions, but how about one at a time?”

“Okay, sorry. So tell me about Mrs. Santoni telling you about Quin searching for me.”

Mom replied, “She phoned me after she read the story about you in the newspaper...”

I interrupted. “There was a story in the newspaper about me?”

“Yes, in the newspaper and on the TV news too. But let me finish. She phoned, and told me she was sorry to hear that you were missing. We were all thinking you’d been kidnapped, maybe by some pervert. In retrospect I guess that’s exactly what happened. Anyway, she asked if there was anything she could do to help. I said there were people searching for you, and we could use more people so we could search more areas. She said she’d get her son and some of his friends to join the search, and I told her how to contact Jack Gordon, the search team leader. The next day I got a call from Jack and he told me that your backpack was found in the woods off Kristy Drive. He said it was Quinten Santoni who found it.”

I sat there and didn’t say anything for a few seconds. Then I sneered. “You know what? That gave Quin a way to get rid of my backpack, and gave him an excuse if the cops found his fingerprints on it.”

My dad nodded. “That makes sense. You should tell that to the inspector from the Edmond Police Department who’s coming to interview you.”

“Yeah, I will. Could you take notes when we think of things like this, that way I can make sure I don’t forget something important. When will he be here, the inspector?”

“This afternoon, but I’m not sure what time.”

“What about the FBI? Someone from the FBI is supposed to be interviewing me. Did anyone tell you when they’re supposed be here?”

Dad shook his head. “I don’t know. We didn’t hear anything about that.”

“Maybe you could phone the Captain from the Weatherford Police. He was the one who told me about the FBI was coming.”

“Okay, I’ll do that, in a few minutes.”

Mom got back to what I’d asked earlier. “Why don’t you ask the rest of the questions you had?”

“Okay. What about the stories on TV and in the newspaper? Do they know I’ve been found?”

“Your mom and I, the Edmond police, and the prosecutor in the DA’s office know, but we’ve been asked not to say anything to the press. The district attorney hasn’t charged anyone yet. We were told that they want to have the Edmond police complete their investigation first. I’d say they want to have their case tied up with a ribbon before they make their moves against Quin and his two accomplices.”

I grinned. “Accomplices. I love that. Dad, please add that to the list of things I want to tell the police. Quin and his accomplices. That has a really nice sound. Okay, my next question. Was my picture on TV and in the paper?”

Mom laughed. “Here you are, bruises all over your body, a broken arm, a broken head, and you want to know if your picture was on TV and in the newspaper. You must be feeling a lot better.”

“Uh, yeah I am feeling a lot better. I need to see my picture so I can find out what I used to look like now that I’m all bruised and broken. So which picture of me did you give them?”

“You’ll see when you get home.” Dad smirked. “Your mother picked out one of her favorites. Phyllis, was it that one when Brian graduated from middle school, or was it the one from elementary school?”

I groaned. “You’re killing me here! Why do parents always have to say embarrassing things like that all the time?”

Mom laughed. “It’s in our job description. Actually, we gave them the picture of you that we took at grandpa’s birthday picnic at Mitch Park last September. We gave that one and several others to the police.”

“When did you report me missing?”

“When you weren’t home by five, I called Rob and Tony and they hadn’t seen you. Then Rob called back and told me that he texted Tashira Parsons because he knew she rode the same bus you did, and she texted me that the bus had broken down and you started walking home instead of waiting for another bus. I called your dad and he phoned the police. That was probably about five-thirty.”

“Did you talk to any other of my friends?”

“You have so many good friends, Brian. They joined the search parties. They came over to just sit and visit with us so we wouldn’t be alone waiting for the police to call. They brought food. They tried to cheer us up.”

Mom had a hard time continuing to talk, and I could see she had tears in her eyes.

“Besides Rob and Tony, who came over?”

Dad replied, “We don’t remember all of the names, but Tony put a pad of paper on the table in the foyer for people to sign when they came to visit the first time. There are 25 lines on each page, and there must be at least ten pages of names.”

“Oh, come on, that’s like 250 people. It couldn’t be that many.”

“It is, Brian. That’s mostly your friends and some adults too. Even the inspectors from the police department signed in. We have their names and almost all have their phone numbers or email addresses or both.”

Mom added, “All of the teachers from your classes this year came by, the principal and vice principal, Coach Garrison, everyone on your tennis team, some from the football team...”

“The football team? I don’t even know those guys.”

Dad squeezed my hand. “Nate Mead came over several times. He organized the members of the football team and they joined the search parties. Nate was at the house almost as much as Rob and Tony and your other close friends.”

“Nate Mead? He’s in a couple of my classes. He’s going to be first-string quarterback next year and is on the A-list at school. All we ever do is say ‘hi’ to each other. He’s not a close friend of mine, just a guy I know casually.”

“Well,” Mom replied, “He certainly seemed to be a close friend. I would have thought he was as much a friend of yours as the others we know, like Rob and Tony, and Jay.”

Dad added, “Some of the guys I remember are Jason, Vince, Khalil, Dan, and Allan. The girls I remember are Tashira, Shirley, and...” He turned to Mom, “Do you remember any of the other girls’ names?”

“Let’s see. Monica, Kathy... I can’t remember. You’ll have the list, and you should thank all of them.”

I was stunned. I mean, I’m not unpopular but my circle of friends isn’t that big. I’m on the tennis team, but that’s not a big deal on campus like football and basketball are. Nate Mead. He is the number one popular guy in the sophomore class, at the top of the A-list and one of the BMOC’s. That was something I was going to have to find out about when I got home.

A nurse who I hadn’t seen before came in right then.

“I’m Barbara, I’ll be your nurse this evening. It’s time to take your temperature and do a blood draw. I’m also going to check your bandages.”

Dad squeezed my hand. “Brian, your mom and I are tired. I think it’s best if we check into the hotel and get some rest. We’ll be back tomorrow morning.” He looked at Barbara. “What time can we come back tomorrow?”

“You’re Brian’s parents?”

“Yes. I’m Greg Anderson and this is my wife Phyllis.”

“It’s nice to meet you. The best time to come back tomorrow morning would be no earlier than nine. That way we should be finished taking care of Brian.”

Dad squeezed my hand again. He seemed to be doing that a lot, and I really liked that connection. “We’ll be back tomorrow morning, son.”

Mom added, “We love you, Brian.”

“I love you too, Mom and Dad.”

They left and Barbara put a thermometer in my mouth and left it there for a few seconds until it beeped.

“Brian, your temperature is 98.7. That’s excellent.”

“I think you’re the first nurse who’s told me my temperature. But I thought I was hooked up to something that read my temperature all the time.”

“Manual readings are more comparable from reading to reading, so we’re going to take them every few hours now that you have stabilized.”

“Oh. I guess.”

“That means you’re getting better.”

“That sounds good. I’m feeling better this afternoon.”

“You’re an amazing boy, Brian. When you first came into the ICU we didn’t think you’d pull through. It’s like a miracle.”

“You saw me when I came in?”

“I’ve been one of your evening nurses, and I was on duty when you were admitted and brought to the ICU. You wouldn’t remember me because you were in a coma. It’s so nice to see you awake and looking so much better.”

“This whole thing just seems so strange to me.”

“Patients who are recovering from severe injuries often say just what you said. It’s like a little piece of your life was hidden away and when you come out of a coma and are on your way to a full recovery you try to remember what happened and you can’t, and that might be what seems strange.

“Alright, your blood draw is finished. Do you want me to lower the bed so you can go to sleep?"\”

“No, I think I’ll wait for a little while. I’m not tired right now.”

Barbara smiled and left the room. I looked at the TV and wondered how to turn it on. I couldn’t see a remote. I pressed my call button and an orderly stuck his head in the room.

“Hi. Is there a problem? You need a nurse?”

“No, I just wanted to know how to turn on the TV.”

He came in and introduced himself. “I’m Ramon. I can show you how to work the TV.”

He pulled out something that didn’t look much like a remote. It had a cable that ran somewhere behind my bed, some buttons, and what looked like a speaker.

“You turn the TV on or off with this red button. The blue rocker picks the TV channel, push the top to go to high number channels, push the bottom for lower numbers. The green rocker is your volume. The speaker is in the control, that’s so it won’t disturb anyone else in the ICU or in your room once you’re moved. It automatically turns off the TV after two hours, so if that happens just push the red button to turn it back on.”

I pushed the red button and the TV turned on. The picture wasn’t very good, but at least there was a picture.

“Thanks, Ramon.”

“You’re welcome.”

I tuned to some dumb game show. Something mindless was what I wanted right now. I closed my eyes and fell asleep. And I slept all night. Except for each time the nurses woke me to suck my blood and feed me pills.

<<<<<0>>>>>

At seven in the morning Dale, an intern who didn't talk much, woke me with my breakfast. I had been switched to a semi-liquid diet so I got orange juice (good!), cream of wheat (ugh!), scrambled eggs (just barely okay, because they were watery), toast with peanut butter (yum!), and milk. After I finished eating I turned on a cartoon show on the TV and fell asleep again.

I woke up when I heard my folks quietly talking. Just like yesterday, they were sitting near the wall to the right of my bed.

Dad smiled. “Hi.”

Mom leaned over and kissed me on my forehead to avoid where I was damaged. “Hi, Brian. When we got here we let you sleep. The doctor told us that it’s a good idea for you to get as much sleep as you can. It will help you heal.”

“What’s weird is that I didn’t feel tired. After breakfast I started watching a cartoon show and I guess I fell asleep.”

Dad laughed. “I don’t think there was any guess about it. You definitely were asleep. We know you were asleep. You were snoring when we came in.”

“Daaad! I don’t snore!”

Mom stared at me. “Brian, you do snore. It isn’t loud, but you definitely snore.”

I started to laugh. “Make a video of me snoring. Then maybe I’ll believe it.”

Just then Ramon stuck his head in the door. “Sorry to interrupt. There’s a policeman at the ICU check-in desk to see Brian Anderson.”

Dad stood up. “I’ll go talk to him. Thanks.” He turned to me. “Are you ready to talk to the Edmond police inspector?”

“Yeah. I feel pretty good now.”

Dad nodded and left my room. He returned a minute or two later with a tall, really big man. By big I mean looking big and muscular like a pro football lineman. He was seriously scary.

Dad introduced us. “Brian, this is Inspector Kozara of the Edmond Police Department. Inspector Kozara, this is my son Brian.”

He smiled and put out his hand and we shook. Suddenly he wasn’t so scary any longer.

“Hi, Brian. My name is also Brian. So instead of all this formal ‘inspector’ stuff you can call me Tall Brian and I’ll call you Short Brian. Okay?”

I sneered at him. “Hey, I’m not so short. Five-foot ten’s pretty good for a fifteen-year-old. How ‘bout you call me Young Brian and I’ll call you Old Brian?”

“Ah, I can see you’re looking for a plea bargain. How about you’re Young Brian and I’m Tall Brian?”

I was laughing so much I couldn’t talk, and my chest was starting to hurt. I finally calmed down and looked at him.

“Okay, I accept your plea bargain, Inspector Tall Old Brian. Oops, sorry, I meant Tall Brian.”

Now we were both laughing, and so were Mom and Dad. I had to stop because my chest was really hurting.

“Oh, ow!” Everyone else stopped laughing. I took a couple of short breaths to help get myself under control. “Sorry, the laughing made my chest hurt where I was kicked. There’s still a big bruise.”

“I think it will be better if I call you Brian and you call me Inspector.”

“Okay, Inspector. That sounds like a plan.”

“Let’s see, I think we need another chair.”

My dad offered to get it, and put it on the right side of my bed. As Inspector Kozara sat down I realized that I was comfortable talking to him. He’d put me totally at ease.

“I guess you want to ask me the same questions that the Weatherford police asked me.”

“No Brian, there’s no need to do that. I’ve been given the transcript of your statement. What I’d like to do is have you read it out loud, and if there’s anything you feel needs to be corrected stop and tell me what that would be and I’ll note the correction. When you’re finished, if you agree with the transcript I’ll ask you to sign it, and have your parents sign it as well. Is that acceptable?”

“Yes.”

“Mr. and Mrs. Anderson, do you have any objections?”

Both Mom and Dad said ‘no.’

I started reading out loud. There was a lot to read, so I had to ask for water a couple times. I didn’t find anything I thought was wrong. When I finished I looked up.

“That’s all of it. I think that’s what I said when I was interviewed yesterday. Is this exactly what I said?”

“The Weatherford Police Department has certified the transcript, and I have a copy of the recording of your interview. We’ll recertify the transcript when I return to my office tomorrow morning.”

I signed and dated the transcript, then so did Mom and Dad.

“What I’d like to do now is ask you a few questions, Brian. Is that okay?”

“Sure. Are you going to record my answers?”

“Yes, with your and your parents approvals.”

We all agreed, and Inspector Kozara set up his recorder and said all the intro type stuff. Then we got started.

“Brian, I’m the lead inspector on your case. My primary reason to come to Weatherford was to get the transcript and have you confirm that it’s accurate. These questions are just to clarify a few items. First, exactly where did you leave your fingerprints in Quinten Santoni’s car?”

“They pushed me on the floor in the back seat. I was in back of the driver’s side, on my left side. I could feel a smooth metal part under the seat. When it was dark and the guy in the back seat with me, Tom Calloway, wasn’t looking I rubbed my forehead with the fingers on my left hand and carefully pressed them on the smooth metal. It sort of felt like chrome.”

Inspector Kozara nodded. “Good. Next, who pulled you into the car?”

“Tom and Grant. Tom was in the back seat, Grant was in the front. Quin pulled his car over to the curb and Tom and Grant jumped out and grabbed me. They pushed me on the floor in the back seat and Tom got in and pushed me down and kept slamming his feet and fists on me until I stopped fighting him.”

“Were you knocked unconscious while you were in the car?”

“No.”

“Do you know Grant’s last name?”

“No. I’ve never had any classes with him, and he’s a junior.”

“You know Tom’s last name, it’s Calloway, correct?”

“Yeah. He’s a real jerk. A bully. He’s just like Quin and almost as well-known around school.”

“When Quin arrived at his home, where did he park the car?”

“The car was parked on a concrete driveway. The driveway must be real long because when I was pulled out I saw the house was way down by the road. I don’t know how far, but it could have been a quarter mile maybe. A long way.”

“When you were pulled out of the car, about how far do you think it was from the car to the hatchery?”

“It’s hard to tell, maybe about the length of a tennis court. That’s about eighty feet.”

“When you were in the hatchery, how long was it from the time you arrived until you were knocked unconscious?”

“Not too long, a few minutes, maybe.”

“Can you describe exactly what happened when you arrived in the hatchery?”

“Tom and Grant were dragging me. I was trying to get away, but they’re older and a lot bigger and stronger than me. When we got to the hatchery Quin opened the door and Tom and Grant shoved me in and knocked me on the floor by this table. At first I thought they were going to lock me in, but the three of them followed me in. Quin was coming toward me, so I grabbed the leg of the table to leave my fingerprints in there. Then I grabbed the leg of the table with my left hand and the top with my right and sort of swung myself up and kicked Quin in the balls, really hard. I just remembered, I kicked him in the face when he doubled over because I got him in the balls. Then Grant slugged me in the face, and he and Tom pulled my arms back and held me. Quin grabbed something off the table, I don’t know what it was, but it was shiny like chrome or aluminum, and he swung it at me and I tried to duck. That’s all I remember until I woke up in the hospital yesterday.”

“That’s all the questions I have for you, Brian. Do you have anything you’d like to add?”

“Yeah, one thing that I just remembered. I had my backpack with me, and I was still wearing it when we got to the hatchery. When we got out of the car Quin told his accomplices to take off my backpack. Tom held me and Grant pulled it off. Mom told me that Quin, Grant, and Tom volunteered to search for me. Quin turned in my backpack, saying he found it in the woods off... Mom, what’s the name of that street?”

“Kristy Drive.”

“I figure he did it because he could get rid of the backpack and there was an excuse in case their fingerprints were found on it. It was also a diversion, sending people to search those woods when I wasn’t there.”

“Anything else, Brian?”

“No, that’s all.”

“Brian, Mr. and Mrs. Anderson, thank you for cooperating with this investigation.”

Inspector Kozara switched off his recorder and put it in his pocket.

“Brian, you’re a great witness. Despite what happened you remember the details. This will help the District Attorney establish a case and we’ll be able to issue arrest warrants. Thank you, again.”

He turned to my folks.

“And thank you, Mr. and Mrs. Anderson, for cooperating fully and allowing Brian to make his statements.”

“Oh, I have one other question. The Weatherford police told me the FBI would be interviewing me. Do you know anything about that?” I asked.

“Yes, I do. In fact, I’m leaving the hospital and driving to the FBI office in Dallas to discuss the case. I’m going to use the information I collected here today. I was told they would be here to interview you sometime tomorrow.”

“Thanks for helping get those guys in jail where they can’t hurt anyone else.”

“You’re welcome, Brian.”

Inspector Kozara shook hands with me and my folks and left. As soon as he was gone Dale stuck his head in my door.

“Brian, you hungry? If you are, I have a snack for you.”

I realized I was starving. “Absolutely I’m hungry. In fact, I’m starving. Bring it in, please!”

Mom laughed. “I can see that you’re getting better. Your appetite seems to be back to normal.”