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Show 96 Brad's sister told him not to come into the kitchen or anywhere upstairs after eleven. Chris' favorite activities were "doing doughnuts" in church parking lots in the winter and walking around on the balcony shirtless while drinking Keystone Light during the summer. The latter he did not in spite of the possibility, but "just in case" an attractive girl happened to pass by. He drove a white Ford Bronco, older than the O.J. model, with a rope for a "seat belt." I shared a room with him for nearly two years. Me Good looking in the right lighting, at least by the male standard in which all one has to do it bathe once in a while and avoid growing a mustache to get consideration. Scars on my back. Large eyebrows; tall. I could blend in with night shadows and reach things off most any shelf. I was unreliable in any social encounter involving more than three people, but whatever my anxieties, I was comfortable in my tall, thin body. I grew up about the same as Chris. I played the trombone instead of the trumpet-even lower on the instrument respectability scale. My dad was too distrustful of rich people to be a Republican, but like Chris' father he felt vacations should, if they had to exist at all, be purposeful. He took us on our one and only family vacation east of the state of Colorado in order to leam about Mormon history by tracing in a rented minivan the pioneer footsteps through New York, Ohio and Illinois. In New York, we went to church's annual pageant in |