Damien started to cry out of fear and frustration. 'What am I supposed to understand?' he asked, holding his hands out in supplication. ‘Please tell me!’

Neff stared at the boy a long time before he answered. Then, in a quiet, infinitely respectful voice, he said, 'Who you are.' And he seemed to bow before he walked away.

Damien stood in the dark and echoing hallway, with tears streaming down his face, trying to put all the pieces together, trying to figure out what all these people were saying to him. Finally he decided to seek out the Book of Revelation to see what was written there.

And if it was, indeed, about himself.

Chapter Seven

CHAPTER SEVEN

Davidson Military Academy had quite a good band, whose main function was to play at their sporting events and other celebrations. Mark was head bugler. Though the bugle has a limited range of notes, Mark was amazingly adept at drawing great expression out of it. He had the task—which he considered an honor—of blowing all the bugle calls at the school. He didn't mind having to get up a half hour early to play 'Reveille' over the school loudspeaker system, and, surprisingly, the boys seemed to mind being awakened a little less when Mark was doing the playing. Nor did they mind when Mark's sensitive playing of 'Taps' told them it was time to put out the lights and go to bed.

They positively loved Mark's rendition of 'Mess Call,' even when it heralded a meatless day and the cook, rumored to have served under Robert E. Lee in the Civil War, trotted out one of his unpalatable noodle-and-cheese dishes or tasteless tuna fish casseroles. On those occasions, Mark gave 'Mess Call' an extra 'oomph,' as though he were playing a vamp number for a striptease dancer.

Today, because it looked like rain, the band was practicing its parade drill indoors. The boys' dormitory had been built to accommodate indoor activities. The small cell-like rooms were all on the second floor, which ran like a wide balcony all the way around the building, overlooking the parade area below. The classrooms were on the first floor, directly under the bedrooms. So what was left below was a wide-open central space with plenty of room, below a two-story-high ceiling, to rehearse the complicated formations the parade band made as they marched.

The band was playing Sousa's 'The Thunderer' now, a march Mark loved. He was in seventh heaven as he stepped about smartly and precisely, letting the music wash over him, the snare drums in cadence with his pulse. Because of the accoustics, indoor rehearsal was definitely more exciting.

Even though it was still early afternoon, it was beginning to get dark outside. Those students who were not in the band were either studying in their rooms or working out in the gym. It was the free period of the day.