Roland felt a chill in spite of the warmth of the summer night. He and Cecelia had hired Andrew through a friend of the family who knew one of his foster families. It had seemed like a good Christian thing to do, to help out a soul in desperate need of a break, but there were times when the boy would truly frighten him. There was a blackness that would seep out when he'd speak of Dr. Riesling, and Roland made a mental note to look into the situation.

Roland: "Well, you do what you have to do I suppose."
Andy: "So they say."
Roland: "Can you take the trash out before you go?"
Andy:"Sure."

Roland puzzled over the awkward skinny boy who bussed the tables in his restaurant. He never complained, was a fast learner and an excellent worker. There was no lack of intelligence in his eyes, but he almost seemed to be a dead soul. In the six months he'd been working for him, he couldn't remember seeing him so much as smile. However, he never seemed to get angry either. There was an emotionless air around him, as though the humanity had been drained from him.

As Andy headed into the darkness of the alleyway behind the diner, Roland began wiping down the tables in anticipation of the next group of patrons that would be coming in after the end of their shifts at the Boeing plant. It was hard work running the small diner, but the rewards had been unimaginable and more widespread than the obvious financial gains.

Tony: "Hey man."
Roland: "What can I get you tonight?"

Tony: "I want all the money you've got in the register, and whatever you've got in the safe."
Roland: "Let's not do anything we might regret… why don't you put the gun down?"
Tony: "Why don't you just open the fucking register and give me the fucking cash, old man!"

Roland: "All right, all right… I'm getting you the money."
Tony: "You'd better not try to fuck me over by callin' no cops."
Roland: "I'm just going to reach in and get the money out."

Tony: "C'mon, hurry up!"
Andy: "What's going on in here?"

The moments that followed were forever blurred to Roland. In later years, he'd talk about hearing the sound of the gun and remembering falling over, but never remembered much pain.

Andrew leaned over his fallen boss, transfixed by the sickening ooze of blood and the acrid smell of gunpowder. Without a word he reached for the phone and dialed 911, hardly speaking as he followed the calm and collected instructions coming over the line. As he applied pressure to the wound using clean dishcloths, something twisted inside his head.

There was power here. The man on the ground in front of him was easily twice his size, yet Andrew held his life in his hands. If he stopped applying the pressure exactly as he was being told, the man before him would die. If he continued to do as he was instructed, the man would most likely live.

Years of being controlled by fear began to crack away, shifting unseen beneath the surface. He lifted his hands from the wound, the blood glistening off them in the harsh glare of the fluorescent lights. He could almost see the life draining out of Roland's body, every second bringing him one step closer to the end.

The flashing of ambulance and police lights outside snapped him back and he quickly began applying pressure again. The paramedics surrounded him, moving him out of the way in order to do their jobs. Andrew backed away, the blood already congealing into a sticky mess on his hands and clothes.

Officer Dakota: "We're going to have to ask you a few questions about what happened here tonight…"

Mary: "What else do you know?"
Bellie: "Not much, little lady. I know that the few times I saw him back then, he gave me the creeps. There was something just not right about that boy. Now, though- it's like he's a completely different person. I never would have believed it if my brother hadn't told me they were one in the same."

Mary could tell there was something else he wanted to say, but a couple walked in, bringing their private meeting to an abrupt end.

Mary: "How much do I owe you?"
Bellie: "Don't worry about it, they're on me tonight."

Mary watched as Bellie took out a pad of paper and scribbled something out on it. As he stood up to take care of the new customers, he slid it over to her.

Bellie: "Why don't you give my brother a little visit? I'm sure he'd love to talk to you. Tell him Bellie sent you."
Mary: "Thanks, Bellie. For everything."
Bellie: "Not a problem."