About 9:00 PM, I got a call on my cellphone from Dad. He had negotiated a deal with the news media for me to have a press conference in the school auditorium. The press conference would be moderated by Dad, and the time scheduled would be for one hour during my regular period for study hall. OK, I could handle that, especially with Dad backing me up. The baseball coach would be there, too, for moral support and to answer any questions about what happened while I was not in the bus.The next morning, I dressed in some of my better clothes, figuring that I should make the best impression that I could. I had been considering wearing a beard, and that was just because my hormones were letting me grow some facial hair. However, it was a pretty scraggly collection of two-bit whiskers that I had at the time, so I wised up and shaved them off. Mom congratulated me on how mature I looked this morning. Dad agreed, so I figured that I looked like what the older generation wanted out of a hero.. He left the room, keeping his fingers against the wall for balance. There was a sign in the hall: Your watch has been set to show your time remaining. Please return to this room for the last few minutes of your stay. Failure to do so will result in an additional charge."Fair enough," he muttered. His watch showed 23 hrs, 51 min. There was a sign next to the door at the end of the hall giving the address of the building.I know this building, he thought. It was an old boarding house in the town where he'd grown up. There had always been strange things said about it, that derelicts and crazy people had lived there. Most of those were just stories, but now he wondered how much of a basis in reality those stories had.He wandered out onto the sidewalk. He was in the middle of town. To his left he could see the statue of Benjamin Franklin that marked the official center of town. To his right he could see the department store his mother used to take him to."Anything I want?" he asked himself,.
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