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“This guy John,” Ben asks. “What did he look like?”

“Why?” Diane asks.

“I need to know.”

She rummages around until she finds a scrapbook. Opens it up and the results are almost comical-his mom and dad as hippies-long hair, leather fringes-almost as if they’re at a costume party.

Diane turns to a picture of a bunch of people on the front steps of an old bookstore and points to a young man, bare-chested and in jeans.

“That’s John,” she says.

“I have to go.”

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