“He held up his hands in surrender. “I’m not here to start trouble. I am just doing some research for my thesis.”“If you don’t get out of this bar, you are going to be writing your thesis via Ouija board.”

“What... what are you doing here?"He's shaking his head as he walks my way; a steaming coffee mug is in his hand."What am I doing here? I live here.""Y-you do? How did I get here?"He starts to laugh. "You don't remember?""No... I really don't."He places the mug in front of me. "You called me on your cell. I found you spaced out of your mind in an alley behind the bar. You were talking to a cat. You claimed it was your mother.”

“You look…” he shook his head looking her up and down, “You look delicious. If I don’t get you out of here, I’m going to devour you like it’s my birthday, and you’re my cake.”

“Here,” I said, shoving the board into his hands. He started laughing.“WHAT are you laughing at?!” I demanded irritably.“Well, it’s just that… that’s going to hurt a bit, my dear. Go on, bend over. I’ll demonstrate.”

“Dad stepped forward. "Mr. Zelden, I'm Patrick Silver."Zelden Frowned. “It’s Doctor Zelden, if you don’t mind. I do hold a doctorate in theology, you know.”Dad gave him a stiff smile. “Of course.”Both my parents held doctorates in psychology, but they never referred to themselves as doctors. They said that title should be reserved for people who could actually save lives, not just write a thesis.”

“Micah: “Come, on. Let’s get you out of here.” He began putting his arms under me and lifted me off my bed of rocks.“Oh, no. You can’t just come trotting in here like some hero. I’m saving myself this time. Go away!” “And let me just say you were doing a fine job lying there on your back.”