There is something about the boy that sends a shiver down a spine if thought about for too long. In the actions of any man, there is a thread to be found that through sufficient observation unravels his reasoning, his motivations, the origin of his actions so to speak. So that, when he is not present, one can summon his voice in times of uncertainty, one can ask what would he do, or not do. But his will, as it occupied the minds of those who considered themselves his friends, though intoxicating, was unknowable. Its idiosyncrasies were strange and unfamiliar, and so friendship was only an illusion, and the people in his life were unwilling captives of their admiration, which was not replicated in anyone other than Joe.