Death is Not an Option - 4. Chapter 4

I won’t deny it... this case is getting under my skin. It seemed straightforward in the beginning. Some kid, nasty piece of work, gets sent down for a vicious crime and can’t face doing the time so he tries to take the easy way out. Easy peasy. A few lectures on the virtues of responsibility and consequences, a bit of feigned sympathy then send him off back to the prison on suicide watch for the governor to take care of.

It is hard to summon too much sympathy for people like that, people who whine on about their hard lives, their deprived childhoods and use them as a reason to do pretty much anything they please and then avoid taking responsibility for the consequences. There was no breath of fate on my neck as I received the file from the resident on call. This is my first solo case and I was so fired up about doing a good job.

I read the file in an hour and from that moment on I haven’t had a moment peace. It just wasn't right. At first I couldn’t put my finger on what it was that wasn't right..and then I met Isaac. It is fair to say that he wasn’t what I was expecting. Even asleep I could tell that he was no thug... and as soon as I saw his eyes I knew that someone, somewhere had made a huge mistake.

Isaac has eyes that are truly mirrors of his soul, dark mirrors. They are so dark they are almost black and both his eyes and his face are expressive. Even when he wasn’t talking I could tell what he was thinking by looking into his eyes.

When he freaked out it completely took me by surprise and when he started to seize I almost freaked out myself. This is not what happens, not what I deal with. This is not what any psych doctor deals with. Fuck... why did this have to happen to me, my first time?

Afterwards it was chaos. There were people everywhere, blood all over the place. For a heartstopping moment I thought he was dead when he crashed, and I felt completely helpless, out of place. And then the great Doctor Marsden was stamping about shouting at everyone and raging that he should be in a prison hospital or a mental hospital and not taking up a bed that could have gone to someone who deserved it. I challenged him on that and he said that they should have let him die, that anyone who would do that to an innocent girl did not deserve the time and effort. I have never felt so out of control. I had to get out of there. Yes, I admit, I ran away. I just had to get out.

I went back to my office and read the file again, cover to cover. I telephoned the prison and spoke to some people there and they only made the sense of wrongness worse. Then I went to see his ‘family’ and that was the strangest experience I have ever had. No wonder the kid is a little crazy.

The drive up to the community was amazing. Considering it was so close to town it seemed to be way out in the middle of the countryside. The long sweep of road passed under a stone arch with the name of the community written on a wooden sign over the top, and down over a hill towards the group of buildings huddled in the bottom of the valley. Beyond it were fields of corn and, ironically, rape and beyond that more hills, thickly wooded rising to the horizon. The whole setting was beautiful, idyllic.

The feeling of peace and tranquillity that had crept over me as I drove down towards the ‘town’ evaporated as soon as I got out of the car. People began to gather, watching me with curiosity and suspicion. It was like something out of a bad horror film and the feeling only intensified as I was hurried off to meet the leading elder, Caleb. Six feet tall with hair as black as coal and eyes... eyes that make me shiver, they are so cold.

To say that he was hostile is like saying the Arctic is cold... correct but such an inadequate description. And as soon as I mentioned Isaac a curtain came down and the coldness increased dramatically. The picture that he painted was not the one I had been building up for myself. It actually seemed that he hated him... not just dislike or irritation but outright hatred. What the hell had the poor kid done to deserve that? It was so much more than just what he had been accused of.

When I tried to speak to him about what had happened to Isaac he closed down even more, started talking about ultimate sin and hell and damnation. He was certainly not open to any attempt I made to persuade him to help Isaac in any way. The message was very clear. Isaac had made his own bed and now he had to lie in it alone. Caleb had washed his hands of him and if anyone else wanted to help him then he would wash his hands of them too.

I tried to appeal to him from a dozen different perspectives but he was having none of it and in the end I had to give up. He didn’t even see me out. He called someone else to show me to the car and I am sure that he also told them to make sure I was well off the property.

As it turned out the young man was joined by a girl, both of whom seemed to be not entirely convinced that Isaac was damned and deserving of whatever might be coming to him. The boy, Jacob, was almost beside himself. As I got into the car he grabbed my arm and stared into my face, his blue eyes so intense they sent a shiver up my spine.

“Is he going to be alright? Is Isaac going to be alright?”

What could I tell him... only the truth. “The honest truth is that I don’t know. The suicide attempt almost succeeded. He was very ill at first. His body is getting better but his mind is withdrawn, he still wants to die. I can’t promise that he won’t try again or that next time he won’t succeed.”

“Oh my god... oh my God. This was never supposed to happen, any of it. Please.... please tell him... tell him I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. Please tell him...”

“Sorry for what?”

Suddenly, as if he realised what he was saying he clammed up, looking around with a scared expression on his face. The girl took his place, her eyes red rimmed from crying.

“Please.... please tell me. Please tell me that he is going to be alright.”

“I can't. I’m sorry but I can't. He is sick. Sick in body and soul. He needs help. Not the help that I can give but someone close, someone to stand by him, someone he can trust. Without that I don’t know if he will ever be alright again.”

The woman burst into tears and ran. The boy turned to me and whispered. “Just tell him.. please tell him that we’re sorry... we’re so sorry.”

And they were gone leaving me with a sick certainty beginning to settle like lead in my stomach. The beauty of my surroundings were lost on me as I made my way home.

I had not meant to go back to the hospital that day but the case played on my mind and, in the end I had to. By the time I got there I was off shift but I didn’t care. So what if I wasn’t going to get paid for this time?

Isaac was asleep and Katie was with him. It was worth it to spend time with her. We have precious little of it now that we are both working. It was better when we were still training.... financially hard but so much more fun. Katie is the love of my life, so sweet and gentle and caring. Watching her fuss about Isaac like a mother hen made me want to take her in my arms and kiss her but that would not have been professional and, if nothing else, Katie is a committed nurse and is always professional.

For a long time I stood at the side of the bed and looked down at him. The feeling of unease grew with every second. Isaac is beautiful, with black hair and black eyes and skin like finest porcelain over delicate, almost feminine features. Asleep he looked like a china doll and it was easy to get lost in that, to lose perspective.

I have enough experience to know that looks can be deceptive. I have seen enough dangerous psychotics hiding behind the faces of angels but this one was different. In my experience no matter what they look like on the outside you can always tell by looking into their eyes. Isaac’s eyes do not say ‘dangerous’, they say ‘lost’.

I am not entirely in agreement with the decision to exchange physical restraints for drugs, it makes talking to him more difficult, but I hate dealing with people who are restrained. Usually it makes them angry and un cooperative. Isaac is not angry. It would be better if he was. Looking at him evokes strong emotion in me. He is helpless, hopeless. He seems almost like a ghost, as if he succeeded after all.

Katie left me alone. She knows what I am like when I am working. She knows that I am bothered by this case and I know that she has similar feelings of unease although hers are more ambivalent, less coalesced. I know this because, of everyone, I can read Katie like an open book. It makes her uneasy but I can’t help it. It is almost as though I can read her mind, which I can't. She is just a beautifully uncomplicated person. Not that she is shallow she is just..... clean and clear.

I was watching her when she caught my eye and smiled. The sun came out and suddenly I knew that I was going to be able to save Isaac, damn I could have saved the world.

Now I am watching her again. She is white with shock and tight lipped with indignation as Marsden is ranting again. I have had enough of him. If only he wasn’t so far my senior..... at the very least I would like to rip into him verbally, if not punch him on the nose. I am glad that Isaac is oblivious to his rantings. He is unhappy that Isaac’s continued physical frailty means that he will be here for some time and not being shipped off back to prison or to an institution somewhere to be lost among the shadows.

“Just what is your problem? Isaac is a patient. He deserves good treatment and some respect. He isn’t doing this on purpose.”

Marsden looks down his nose at me.... he never looks at anyone in any other way. “Isaac is a criminal. He violently raped an innocent girl. As far as I am concerned he deserves whatever comes his way and it is a crazy system that allows so many scarce resources to be wasted on scum like this.”

“Our job is to use whatever resources we have to help people and not to pick and choose who those people might be. Isaac is not here to be punished. He is ill and he is here for us to make him better, not to judge him.”

“He is reaping what he sowed. He is not ill; he tried to kill himself because he couldn’t live with what he’d done. He is a moral coward as well as a physical coward who gets his kicks out of hurting others who are weaker than himself. When we are done here he will be sent back to prison to be cosseted and cared for at the expense of tax payers like me. He will probably try to kill himself again and if that’s what he wants they should let him.”

I am shocked and shaken by the venom in his voice. What the hell does he see when he looks at Isaac, sure as hell it isn’t the same thing I see. Isaac is no more a violent criminal than I am. But it is no good telling Marsden that. He is one of those people who are always right. Nothing will make him change his mind. I am only surprised that he has reacted so violently. He is an arrogant man, a proud man, but he is not usually such an uncaring and uncompromising one.

I bite my lip as he finishes dealing with Isaac, handling him a lot more roughly than I would have liked. I have to be careful. I have pushed him too hard already as I can tell from the looks I am getting. I just hate to see the restrained violence in hands that are capable of such gentle skill. I am so glad when he leaves.

Katie is slamming about, clearing away equipment and moving things around. I smile. She is as angry with him as I am but in an even worse position for telling him so.

“Don’t let him get under your skin. You know that he is a wanker.”

“Yes, I do but this is more than that. He is being completely unreasonable and unprofessional. Even if Isaac was a violent, abusive monster he is still a human being and he doesn’t deserve that kind of treatment. I have half a mind to report him. I would if I thought it would do any good.”

“You know it wouldn’t. It would only make things worse.... worse for Isaac too.”

“I know. Damn this is.....”

“Unfair. I know but that’s life. Fortunately Marsden’s work is just about done. His arm is healing and if the seizures continue he will need a neurologist so Marsden won’t have his paws on him for much longer.”

“Do you think he’s right?”

“What?”

“Oh, not in his attitude. It goes without saying that is way out of line. I mean about it being better if Isaac moved on to somewhere else.”

“You think that he would be better back in prison, or in some institution?”

“No... of course not. It’s just.... we’re not equipped for this. I don’t like the fact that we’re keeping him drugged up all the time and when he freaks out like this he is disturbing the other patients. Maybe he would be better off somewhere more secure where they are used to dealing with this kind of thing.”

“Have you ever been inside one of those places?”

“No.”

“Trust me... he would not be better off there.”

“If you say so.”

“I do.”

I look at Isaac again and he is restless. Even sedated he is constantly moving. His fingers twitching, his head turning, his eyes flickering under his eyelids. He is dreaming and I am sure the dreams are not pleasant ones. Abruptly I make a decision and get to my feet, startling Katie.

“Where are you going?”

“Back to the community. Isaac doesn’t need drugs and he doesn’t need institutionalising. He needs a friend and I am going to see if I can find one.”

“Do you think you will get through to anyone this time?”

“At least two people there care for him and if I can just get through to them how much he needs them.....”

“Good luck with that.”

“I have a feeling I am going to need it but... I have to try.”

“No, you don’t. You are a psychiatrist Rick, your job is to treat people here, at the hospital. You are going above and beyond the call of duty... as usual. You are not going to be able to keep this up you know. This is only your first case. When you have a hundred of them you are going to have to learn to let go.”

“Never. Besides... this is.... different.”

“Rick, I know you. Every case is ‘different’. Every patient is ‘special’ and while that is wonderful it can't keep up or you will burn out.”

“Alright... here’s the deal. When I start burning out I’ll stop. Until then I will do every single thing I can for every patient under my care. At the moment that is just Isaac so he is the lucky recipient of the whole of my obsessive desire to help people.”

Katie smiles. She has a beautiful smile, it lights up my life, makes everything worthwhile. I return it and feel as if anything is possible.

“Go and do what you have to do. But you had better be back for dinner. This is the first time in over a week we get to eat dinner together. I have plans.”

“Oh you do, do you?”

“Yes indeed. Now scoot out of here, my patient needs to rest.”

“It doesn’t look like he is getting much of that.”

“No, it doesn’t.” She is frowning down at Isaac and I know what is going through her mind. For all her preaching she is as bad as I am. He’s got under her skin too. I can tell by the way she looks at him, the way she reaches out to brush the hair out of his face. He is oblivious to her concern and turns his head away with a heavy sigh. Katie frowns and looks up at me.

“He didn’t do it did he?”

I can’t help but smile. She is so sincere. So beautiful. So mine. “No, I don’t think he did.”

“Then be careful.”

“What do you mean?”

“Someone at that community raped that girl. They made Isaac the scapegoat for it and they won’t be happy about someone poking about in something they think they have got away with. Whoever did this is still there.”

“I’ll be careful but I don’t think that anyone would be foolish enough to hurt or threaten me openly.”

“They had no problem hurting Isaac and he is one of their own.”

I look at him and shiver. For the first time it occurs to me... they did this to him. His family, his friends. They lied to him and about him, and they delivered him up to his fate without a thought. Or did they? Is there at least one person, who regrets what happened, who has conscience enough to do something about it? I know there are at least two who are sorry. Are they sorry enough?

“Take care of him Katie. I’ve got a weird feeling about this kid. I think when we start uncovering the truth about what he’s been through we are going to be opening a huge can of worms and whatever happens I am sure that his suffering isn’t over yet.”

“I know what you mean. It’s his eyes isn’t it? They’re haunted. As if they’ve seen things that no one his age has any business knowing anything about.”

“Eyes that see the far side of hell.”

“That’s very poetic.”

“It’s just something someone said to me once; about someone who had just come back from active duty in Iraq.”

“Not quite the same thing is it? Religious community : Iraq.”

I look down at Isaac, thinking about his eyes, the expression, the expressiveness, the pain, the fear, the emptiness. The urge to reach out to him is strong. He feels vulnerable and helpless. Maybe I am being fooled by a clever manipulator... I don’t think so. This boy has been through torment. Those screams had ripped out my heart and mauled my soul.

“Who knows. Maybe today I will find out.”

“Just be careful.”

I am not so appreciative of the scenery this time. My mind is too occupied. It is filled with thoughts, doubts, concerns, ideas. This is the way it always is when I am working on something... utter chaos from which usually rises a moment of clarity, of inspiration. I have a way to go until there are enough ingredients in the soup to make the recipe work.

Despite my previous confidence my heart is thumping as I park the car and approach the house. There is no one around, no one at all. Knocking on the huge front door I begin to wonder if I have done the right thing. I am about to turn away when the door opens and a frightened face peers around it.

“Why are you here?”

“I have come to speak to Caleb.”

“He is not here. If he were he would drive you away. He will not speak to you again. He knows you are helping Isaac.”

“What is it about Isaac that makes Caleb so crazy?”

“What do you want? Is Isaac alright?”

“No. No he isn’t. I wanted to talk to Caleb, to find out something about Isaac, about who he is, what he was like before this happened. I need to figure out what is making him so sad because it is making him very ill and we are all worried about him.”

“Wait here.”

The head withdraws and the door slams in my face. It feels very cold here, lonely. There is no one around, no one at all. It is almost as though they are all hiding, peering at me through the blank windows, whispering, waiting, watching.

I am beginning to feel creeped out when the door opens again, just wide enough to let me slip through. The hall is large and cool. The girl is beckoning me towards a door on the left and I hurry over to follow her through into a large room that looks like a common room with a television set, bookcases and a huge table strewn with papers and games.

“You can’t be long. If Caleb finds out I have been talking to you I will be punished.”

“Why? Why does Caleb hate Isaac so much? Is it because of what he did?”

“No. He has always hated Zac.”

“Why?”

“I... I’m not sure. Are you taking care of him? Is he going to be alright?”

“You care about him don’t you?”

“He is my friend.”

“Do you believe that he did what they say he did?”

She looks terrified. “I... I can’t talk about that.”

“Alright. Fair enough. What’s your name?”

“Ruth.”

“Well, Ruth, I am very grateful to you for speaking to me. I know this is hard for you. Where is everyone?”

“They are in the fields working and Caleb is in the meeting hall. The Council are meeting about something. They won’t be long. If he comes out and sees you here....”

“Okay, we’ll speak quickly then. I’ll get to the point. Tell me about Isaac, about what he is like, his personality.”

“I... I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“Was he popular here? Did he fit in?”

“Not really. He was always... always... different. He... he never... Isaac is special sir, he is different to everyone else I know. He... he thinks about things. He... wants to know the truth about everything, he questions and challenges everyone all the time. He was always getting into trouble, always.”

“What kind of trouble?”

“He was always challenging everything, questioning Caleb. He would never just accept. He drove Caleb mad with his questions and he considered it disrespect when he challenged him publically especially when he couldn’t answer the questions.

“Zac wasn’t content to just go along with what everyone else was doing and he certainly wasn’t prepared to simply exist. He was always searching.”

“Searching for what?”

“Answers, knowledge, peace. He was so restless. Always moving, always doing something. He fought for access to books, to get an internet connection and be allowed to use it. When he wasn't working or reading or researching he went off on his own, in the woods. Caleb hated that. He hated the fact that the community wasn’t enough for Zac. He was too big for it.

“There is this man who lives deep in the woods in a cabin. He’s weird, cares for wounded animals, does carvings out of wood..... Zac made friends with him and he was teaching him all sorts of things... herbs and about animals and stuff. When Caleb found out he went mad. He said that Zac was consorting with demons, participating in witchcraft and the works of the devil. He.... he almost expelled him from the community right then. Ever since he has been looking for any excuse to punish Zac.”

“What kind of punishments?”

“Sometimes he was beaten. Sometimes he was made to do extra chores or to spend the night alone in the church begging forgiveness for his sins but.... well.... towards the end it was... he was.... I don’t know.... it almost seemed like...”

“Like what?”

“Like Zac was deliberately goading him.... making him get more and more extreme in the punishments. Caleb couldn’t bear to look at him. He really started to hate him and then... then when.... well... it all played right into his hands.”

“And the only reason Caleb hated him was because he challenged him?”

“No. He hated him way before that. He has always been angry with him.”

“Do you have any idea why?”

“Maybe.”

“Can you share it with me?”

“I think it has something to do with Zac’s mother.”

“His mother? He told me that his parents died when he was very young.”

“No... I.... I was too young to remember it but... well I have heard people talking. Of course they don’t talk in front of Zac but I am small and quiet and they sometimes forget I am there.”

“Go on.”

“Zac’s mother was one of us, that is, she was part of the community. I think that Caleb had a thing for her. He has a photograph of her in his room. I went in there once, for a dare and it was on a table at the side of the bed. I think... I think that he was more into her than she was into him because... before Zac was born she left the community, ran off with someone. They got married.

“Then something happened, something really bad. I think Zac’s father died and his mother came back here. She was pregnant and Caleb looked after her. She stayed here until she died... when Zac was little. I think... I think that Caleb never forgave her, that when she came back he tried to get back with her and she wouldn’t and he got to hate her. And then when she died he transferred that to Zac.

“I think... I think... from looking at the picture... I think that Zac looks like his mother. No one else here, except Caleb is so dark and he reminds him of her. He used to say that Zac’s darkness was the mark of the devil, which is rich considering he is dark too.”

“Does Isaac know any of this?”

“No.”

“Was he happy here?”

“I think so. I think he was.... I don’t think he was unhappy. He seemed to... to almost like the conflict. Sometimes he would say that it made him feel alive, excited. He was bored a lot. He needed.... more.”

“Did he have many friends?”

“No. Most people avoided him. I think they were afraid of him, although they always came to him when they had a problem. Zac always had an answer for everything, always found a way. He was always helping someone.”

“So they were happy to accept his help and advice but were not interested enough to be his friend, to stick up for him with Caleb, to help him when he needed it most?”

She is looking at me strangely and I realise that I have allowed my feelings to leak into my words.

“I’m sorry Ruth. Didn’t Isaac have any friends?”

“He had me.... and Jacob, although I wasn’t really allowed to spend much time with him.”

“Not allowed? Was he deliberately isolated?”

“Quite a lot, yes. Caleb used to use that as a punishment. He never worked out that Isaac was happier that way. When he wanted to be really awful to Zac he would forbid him from access to the library. Zac hated being cut off from books and the computer much more than he hated being cut off from people.”

“Would you say that Isaac was a rebel?”

“As much as he could be. It’s not so easy to rebel here. We did it in subtle ways. He grew his hair long and I called him Zac... we’re not allowed to shorten our names... and he sneaked off to be alone in the woods. Sometimes I would go with him and it was wonderful. He knew so many things. He would teach me.... the names of plants, how to track animals. One night we saw badgers down by the river.”

“Did Jacob ever join in?”

“Sometimes but Jacob is scared of Caleb and he doesn’t like to break the rules.”

“What is he sorry about?”

“What?”

“When I was here before Jacob told me to tell Isaac that he is sorry. What is he sorry for?”

“I... I don’t know.”

“Ruth. I know this is hard for you and I am so grateful that you have helped me like this. I will tell Isaac and he will appreciate it I’m sure. But you should realise that Isaac is sick and getting sicker... and worse than that he doesn’t want to get better. He won’t talk to me, or anyone. I don’t want to frighten you but Isaac almost died and, without help he is going to get down to that point again, whether it is by his own hand or by simply giving up and getting more and more sick.

“I am very worried about him, that’s why I am here. I don’t believe that Isaac is what they say he is. I think he is a good person, a sweet boy who got caught up in something that got out of control. I think he was set up and I think you know it. I think that the thing that Jacob is sorry about is that you all stood by and allowed Isaac to take the blame for something he didn’t do.”

The colour has drained from her face and I hate what I am doing to her but, unbelievably, I am on the right track and I have to press on.

“Isaac was betrayed in the worst possible way... by his family and friends and it is that he can’t live with, not being in prison or anything else. Just that. He was sacrificed and he knows it. I think he was quite prepared to take responsibility for what happened as long as he was supported but in the end this community let him down. They sent him out there to face something huge and terrible for their sake and then they expelled him, leaving him to face it all alone and it’s that which broke him.

“Make no mistake Ruth, he is broken and I am trying my best to put him together again but I am not having much success. Isaac has been wounded deeply and he is still bleeding. If I can’t stop that he will die.”

“No.... no I... I can’t.... Isaac is... he is .....” Ruth looks tormented and I don’t want to push her too far. “Okay Ruth... I’m sorry I’ve made things difficult for you. I really do appreciate the risk you have taken to speak to me. Look.... I know it would be difficult for you but it would be really good if you or Jacob could come and see Isaac.”

“No... no I can't, we’re not allowed to leave the community without permission and we.... we’re not allowed to speak to Zac. We’re not even allowed to talk about him.”

“Is Caleb really that bitter?”

“It’s complicated.”

“After everything he’s done for you.... for all of you, you are really going to just abandon him?”

“I’m sorry. There’s nothing I can do. There’s really nothing I can do.”

“Alright. Thank you Ruth. I’ll leave you alone now.”

As I opened the front door Ruth puts her hand on my arm and I turn to look into her anxious little face. “Is... is it really true? Is Zac really that sick?”

“Yes, I’m afraid so Ruth. Physically he’s hurt but would heal. Mentally he’s destroyed and I am not so sure that will improve. He wants to die Ruth. He has tried once and will try again, I am sure of that. And even if he doesn’t he’s not fighting, he’s sinking. I am trying as hard as I can but the reason I came here today was because I am so worried about him and fast running out of options.

“I don’t want to keep him drugged and helpless but at the moment it’s the only thing we can do to stop him being in terrible pain and tied to his bed.”

“What... no why... why would you do that?”

“He’s a dangerous criminal Ruth, a convicted rapist and he tried to kill himself which makes him a danger to himself and others. If I manage to patch him up enough to get him out of immediate danger he is going to either go back to prison or to a mental institution. At the moment my money is on the latter and it’s not the easy option. They will give him drugs that will scramble his mind and make him sick, they will lock him in his room and he will never, ever be alone.”

“That would kill him.”

“I’m sorry. I’ll do the best I can.”

“Please. Please don’t let that happen to him. You don’t know him. You don’t know how special he is, how wonderful. Zac is... he is.... please... please don’t let that happen, please don’t let him get hurt, don’t let him die.”

She is distraught and I am sorry I have pushed her so hard. Maybe I’ve gone too far but nothing I have told her is untruth.

“Try not to worry Ruth. I will do what I can. But please think about what I’ve said. Isaac doesn’t need drugs and doctors.... he needs friends.”

“I... I can’t. I’m sorry.... so sorry.... tell him.... tell him I.... tell him I... I miss him.”

“I will. Take care Ruth.”

Driving out of the gate my mind is in a greater turmoil than ever. Although she hadn’t confirmed my suspicions directly, her reaction when I was setting out my hypothesis was such that it has left me with no doubt that I am on the right track. Isaac is innocent. He has been set up and let down and now he is abandoned, alone... when he has never been allowed to be alone, never been anything other than part of a close community.

Yes he has fought against it, challenged it, threatened it even but it was that fight, that challenge that defined him, that made him who he was....and now, without that, alone, no wonder he looks so lost... he is. And how the hell am I going to find him?