"One of the few good ones. Corwin. But talking to him is like playing badminton against a wall. There's not much you can do but react, and hope you don't give away too much."

He sips his tea again.

"I like him, though. We used to make paper boats together and sail them in the creek."

He snorts, draping an arm across the top of the bench.

"And chuck pebbles at each others, trying to sink them. We were racing, where too, we didn't know. But it was a race." It is today, too, it seems. Even though Random's trying to get Corwin as far ahead as possible.