It was night. The sounds were of night. Taylor lay in crumbled position. He was trying catch some water drops and yet keep the drops from touching his front tooth. He’d moved wrong sometime during the day, lifted his head and banged his mouth against the edge of pipe. A few minutes later a piece of his tooth had chipped off, leaving it a jagged edge that hurt a lot. It was just a new pain, add it to whole assortment of aches and pains. His head ached, his stomach cramped, every muscle in his body ached, but worst was the mental pain. He had finally come to terms with his own reality and he realized that he was abandoned. The smell coming from the other room was so bad, so disgusting that he knew deep down at least one of his abductors was dead. He tried to push his nose into his chest or arm. He’d rather smell his own smell of sweat and grim than that awful odor. Whatever had gone wrong, it was bad. If his abductors were dead there was no reason for anyone to find him. He realized this, accepted it and he had given up hope. In the last several days he’d heard voices, motors and he’d banged his wrists against the pipes until he was sure they had bleed but no one had heard. No one came to his rescue. No one was ever going to hear him again.

Taylor didn’t know why he couldn’t sleep. He’d been drifting in and out of consciousness all day. Maybe he’d gotten to much rest. Maybe his mind was telling him it was time to make peace with what was left of his life. With his hands already taped together in a praying position, Taylor made peace with his God.

One by one, over the slow progression of the night Taylor talked to his family. He spoke to them individually, writing them letters of love. He wished there was some way his words could be heard or he could put them on paper but that was beyond his reach. That was beyond the reality that was his own.

* * * *

Dear Dad

First of all Dad, I’m sorry. I haven’t always been the best of kids. I get into trouble, I disobey. I don’t know what drives me to do these things. I know I whine and I complain. I don’t mean to be bad. I love you so much and I don’t tell you enough. Especially lately. We’ve been butting heads lately and it’s my fault. I want to make you proud of me. 

You are the best Dad, God ever made. You’re the foundation that holds up the whole family. We all look to you for answers and we know you have them. Actually you’ve probably already given us the answers in one of the lectures that you give us, if we’d only pay more attention.

Dad, I love your strength. I respect your strength. I respect you. Sometimes I think we just all siphon strength from you and yet you always have enough to go around. You’re always there, and I depend on you so much. You’re such a strong man. We all look up to you, and we are so proud of you.

I remember when we were little. You would come home after work and me and Ike and Zac would all attack you for attention. I know you must have been tired but you never shoved us away. The funny thing I remember is how you smelled. Ink and peppermint. You were the diehard computer illiterate then always insisting on writing out everything in long hand and the peppermint was from those antacids that you used to eat all the time. You don’t have to take them any more. I haven’t seen them in the medicine cabinet in a long, long time. Our working as a group at least cured that for you. 

I know the group has caused you a lot more headaches, probably heartaches too. I don’t want to forget this, Dad. I want to thank you for music. You saw a talent in us and you didn’t feel threatened by it and you didn’t see dollar signs either. I know that may sound funny, but I know a lot of kids that have dreams. If their dreams aren’t what their parents want or expect of them, they try to stop them or make fun of them. And, the dollar sign remark. You know where that comes from. You know it, I know it, a lot parents live off their kids' talents, using them to make money. I know we don’t get to see much of it now, but I know it’s tucked away for later. We tease you about being a bookkeeper but that’s just to get a rise out of you. You are the most honest man I know and will probably ever have the opportunity to know. I have to mention patience too, because you somehow got a double dose of patience. It makes you a good teacher, because you’re always willing to explain, sometime over and over before we get the point. I know it drives you crazy that we don’t seem interested in the business side of the group. But, that’s just money and we trust you to make the right decisions. Like you’ve told us a million times, when it stops being fun, it’s time to quit. I think that’s something you made up for us kids, because I know you didn’t always enjoy your job and you would never have thought about quitting because you needed the security for us. That must be what being a father is all about... loving your family more than you love yourself and always putting them first. That’s a very admirable trait, the ability to be unselfish. I admire that in you.

Don’t feel that you ever pushed us, we wanted to be the group. I think sometimes you wished you could hold us back, that we moved so fast it was a little scary. But, no matter what you thought, you stood behind us supporting us all the way. Once we make a commitment though you were there doing your Dad thing making us take it seriously and making us realize that if you promise someone something you have to deliver. I know it hurts you sometimes to have to be the ‘bad guy’ and set down the rules so we’d practice. I know you didn’t want to be the voice of strictness but we needed it. Sometimes we still do.

Dad, don’t ever feel bad for being tough or strict on us. We know you do it because you love us and you want us to be better people. Just sometimes it wouldn’t hurt to cut us some stack, if we get into trouble. We are kids and we are going to be stupid sometimes.

Dad, I love the way you love being a father. You get this look of pride in your eyes when you talk about your kids, all of us big and little. When someone makes a crack at you about having so many kids you just get that ‘look’. Like you know a secret that they don’t know it and what you know is better. 

I wanted, no, I mean I want. I’m trying to keep positive here. I want a bunch of kids, a whole army of them.

Dad, they say imitation is a form of flattery. If that’s true, I want to imitate you. I want to be just like you.

Dad thank you for your hugs and for not being afraid to show us your love. Thank you for your protection against the bad in this world. I know you tried and I love you.

* * * *

Dear Mom,

I don’t know where to start, cause as a Mom, you are terrific. You know when I need a hug, you know when I need someone to crack on me and you just know me. 

You are so beautiful. Sometimes I just like to watch you. Your hair is so lovely and your eyes, well sometimes I look up at the sky and I say... that’s the color of Mom’s eyes. So pure blue it’s startling. What makes them so pure is your conditional love that shines in them. Nothing throws you. No matter what we do. No matter what we pull. I think I could count on one hand the times I’ve actually seen you angry. Upset maybe a lot, but not really angry. You just accept everything in strive and move onward. 

You expect the best from us and sometimes, Mom that’s hard to live up to. Sometimes, I’d really like to let go, cuss someone out. Sometimes these people really deserve it. But I can’t. I know you’d be disappointed in me as a person if I did, and I don’t ever, ever want to make you ashamed of me.

Sometimes when I look at you I see motherhood as it should be. I guess you’re the only close example that I have to study. I watch the way you care for Dad and us and I think you must be so smart. You make all of us feel important. You make all of us feel special. 

Daughters are supposed to marry men like their fathers and sons are supposed to marry woman like their mothers. As a teenager I’m supposed to object strongly to that but I don’t. I don’t have a problem with that theory. It’s just going to be real hard to find someone who is as special as you.

Mom I love your gentleness and I love the way you touch. It’s just the softest caress and it makes me feel so secure. The way you have of gently laying your cheek against ours before you turn and kiss us so lightly. 

I know we’ve hurt you. I know I’ve hurt you. I will be forever sorry for that. I hate it when people criticize you. They don’t know you. They say mean things because you decided to home school us. I don’t know why they always blame you, Dad was in on that decision too. But you get the blunt of it.

Sometimes I want to scream at them. "You don’t understand, my Mom is smarter than most of the teachers at schools." I’m glad you wanted to keep us with you. It has made us closer as a family. I’m sorry too that I’ve given you a hard time about studying. Sometimes I like to goof off to much especially when I’m supposed to be working on math... yuck. I do know what you’ve done for us. We’re so far ahead, so much more educated than just about anyone I know our own ages. You made us intelligent kids and we can hold our own in this strange world of adults that we traverse in and out of at will.

No one knows what you have sacrificed for us. You gave up ‘normal’ for us. Yet you’ve kept us normal by just loving us. We’re not stars to you. We’re just your kids. You loved us before we were famous, you love us now, you’ll love us forever.

That’s what makes you Mom. Unconditional love. I wrote a song for you. I never showed it to you or sang it for you. I’m sorry. I should have. Sixteen is an weird age, Mom. Sometimes I want to break those strings that hold me to you. I fight them, I struggle to get untangled from them. But, when something goes wrong, I just want you to close your arms around me and stay there safe and secure. 

I am safe Mom. You and Dad have given me love and you’ve given me faith. So I know I’ll be safe and loved whatever happens.

I love you unconditionally. See I was paying attention. 

* * * *

Dear Zac,

Why did you have to grow up so fast? I was just getting the hang of this big brother stuff and then I looked at you one day and said Wow Zac’s almost a big as me. But realize this little brother, that no matter how big you get, I was still here first. You’re my little brother. That means sometimes I get to tell you what to do and sometimes I have to come down on you to keep you from getting yourself into hot water. That’s my job.

You’ve always kept me on my toes that’s for sure and given me a big job to do. Sometimes you’re so quiet I get worried. But you’re like the weather. Stick around long enough and you’ll change. One minute you’re crazy and wild and next you’re retrospective and intense.

I never know what’s next and I like it because that just who you are. You pester me until I’m ready to wring your neck and then I find you playing with Zoe on the floor kissing and making her giggle. You’re a funny kid. A wacky kid. Sometimes a crazy kid, always an adventurous one. You’re also a serious kid. A smart kid. A talented kid.

That brings me to another point. Your talent. I know we crack down on you a lot but I wish I had half of your natural talent. Don’t ever think that you can’t go on and do something with your talent or your intellect that doesn’t include Ike or me. You can leave us behind. It’s okay. We don’t ever want to hold you back.

I know you’re going to grow up to be a special person. I don’t know if that means you’re going to be a great husband and father or a just a great person in talent and success. I have a feeling that you’re going to surprise a lot of people someday. I want to be around to watch. I will continue to watch cause that’s part of my job as your big brother.

There’s a special side to you that you don’t want anyone to know about. That’s the part of you that’s always watching and observing everything around you. You have a special sixth sense, the ability to see through someone and know when they are in trouble or hurting and you are always willing to help. You are a giving person and sensitive person. You don’t want anyone to know that, you think that you’ve hidden it but we know. We know because you’re always the first in line when someone needs help. Kindness isn’t something that you should have to hide. Be proud that you are a kind and giving person. We are proud of you.

I should have told you I love you. I do, you know. It’s not easy to say that to your brother when you’re sixteen. I don’t why. It’s just one of those things that isn’t cool. I shouldn’t have cared that it wasn’t cool. You say it to me. You say it to Ike and the rest of the kids. You wrap it up in a funny voice and spout off "I love you, man" and everyone just says It’s Wacky Zac. But, you do say it. I respect you for that. You are cool. You are smart. You are my little brother. I love you. You know, it’s not really that hard. Maybe, I just need to practice more.

* * * *

Dear Jessie,

When Mom told me on the phone from the hospital that I had a baby sister my reaction was "Oh, a girl, yuck." You have to pardon me for that, I was only five. I was thinking that girls couldn’t be that much fun. I was wrong. One of my many times of under estimating you, I think. You’re my little sister and I love you. It’s my job to protect and take care of you. Sometimes I think it’s the other way around. You look at me with such trust, like I’m supposed to know what’s going on. I pretend, I do. I don’t want you to be disappointed in me. You’re sweet and beautiful and I say this as a terrific compliment, you are very much like Mom in personality. You look for the best in all of us and we try to give it to you.

As a little sister you’re a very cool person. You don’t hesitate for a second to tell us we look like crap or to straighten up and act right. Sometime we need that. Nothing like the truth from an even younger person to make you see straight.

I wonder sometimes what we’ve done to you and the younger kids. Dragging you along for our ride. What have you had to give up. Your friends, your home, even the privacy of your own room and beds.

What are your dreams, Jessica? You are a dreamer, much like me. I know you dream. I see you writing in your journal and sometimes I think I’ll sneak a peek into it. I haven’t and I won’t but I want to. I want to know how you feel. I want to know your dreams. I should have asked you. Talked to you more. You’re not a little girl anymore. God, I saw you in a training bra the other day. My baby sister, wearing a bra. That’s not something I’m supposed to think about. I don’t mean that in a dirty way. It’s just that little girls and little sisters are supposed to stay little. I guess that really doesn’t happen though. Just as I have to grow, so do you. By the way, what exactly is a training bra? And, what is it training? Just a question. I’m a guy, we don’t know these things. Maybe we’re not supposed to know them.

I want you to grow up Jes, but I don’t think it’s going to be easy for you. You’re the first girl and that means you have to break ground for Avie and Zoe. Everything that you do or want to do is going to be a first. Someone has to do it. For us, it’s Ike. He shatters those growing up barriers that Mom and Dad have erected to protect us and once he does that its easier for me and Zac to follow in his path. The same is going to be true for you. As the first girl, Dad is going to be extra protective. You’re his sweet Jessica. His baby girl. I feel the same. If I can help you I will. Don’t let us stifle you. Follow your own dreams, stomp all over ours if you have to, but don’t get lost in the hype of your older brothers fame.

Reach for the moon, but aim for the starts little sister because we owe it to you. I love you sissy. You’re a very special person.

* * * *

Dear Avie

Avie, you have a quiet soul. You have a shyness and a reserve that is special to you. You traipse along behind us and you rarely let us in on what you’re thinking. I know you’re talented and I think you might be the one that goes solo. In what, I don’t know. 

You will be star at something. You’re going to be great mother too. I see how you are with your ‘babies’ wheather it’s your dolls or our cats and dogs. I held you as you cried when we had to put Wicket down. You kept crying to me to fix him and I felt so bad because I couldn’t. All the operations and medicine in the world wouldn’t have helped him. I felt exactly like you did. I wanted to scream at Dad that you don’t put people ‘down’. Why should we put animals to sleep. That’s a nice way of saying we killed him, or at least we gave the permission for the Vet to kill him. I understand that better now Avie. Sometimes suffering is so bad that it’s easier to let go. I wanted to cry with you, but I couldn’t. I thought fifteen-year-old boys shouldn’t cry. I was wrong. Again. If it hurts, it’s okay to cry. I’ve cried off and on most of this night and it’s okay. I know you will understand because you cry easily and you understand that tears are sometimes tears of healing and not always tears of pain.

I got off track again, but I’ll get back on. I just want you to know that you are a terrific little sister. You’re going to grow up to be something special. Somehow, I know that you’ll be smart enough to be able to figure out how to combine your awesome spirit of nurturing with your creativeness. Maybe you’ll be the doctor or the artist. Maybe you’ll be the one to push music aside and put your art first.

I’m sorry I wasted so many opportunities to spend time with you. I love you.

* * * *

My dear little Mac-man. You are your own little person. Everyone says you’re like Zac but I don’t think so. Zac has a quiet side and so far I haven’t detected anything quiet about you. And, I don’t mean quiet as in the terms of noise volume.

You have an explosive personality. You never walk when you can run. You never skip when you can jump. You never talk when you can shout. You’re just explosive and expressive. You’re so much fun and totally spontaneous and fearless. I remember when you were little and you would get so mad because you couldn’t ride the ‘big’ rides. You would throw a fit and it would be a doozy. You weren’t being bad, you were just frustrated at being forced to be with the little kids. You never thought of yourself as a little person. In your eyes you’re as big as me and Ike and Zac and you don’t see any reason for anything to hold you back.

I know Dad sometimes thinks that we as teenagers are pushing him. I’m going to enjoy watching him squirm when you get to be a teenager. We’re just little go-carts. You are a bulldozer. You are going to plow through life with excitement and power and nothing is going to get in your way. Just remember that you have to still maintain being a good person, otherwise we are going to make your life miserable trying to keep you straight. 

I admire your loyalty. You are so little and yet you’re the one that comes out swinging if anyone threatens us. You are so fiercely independent. You don’t want help, at anything. You don’t want us to pour your cereal, or tie your shoes or help you pick out your clothes. You want to do everything yourself. And, I got to tell you, little guy, that you’re either color blind or you’ve got Zac’s sense of style. That’s scary. I’m kidding. I wish I had half of Zac’s nerve. Jeez, you’re only five and I wish I had your nerve.

Mackie you are definitely going to be an individual to be reckoned with. You’re smart too. I don’t know if you realize it, but most kids at five are not in school yet. Mom let you start simply because you didn’t want to wait and she didn’t want to fight with you. You’re like a sponge absorbing everything that gets in your path. You’re a five year old , first grader that knows who Shakespeare is, an who can quote Egar Allen Poe. That, I don’t mind telling you was eerie. Poe should not come out of a five year old’s mouth.

Whatever you do it’s going to be awesome. It might be scary or adventureous. It’s going to be awesome. Did I say awesome twice. I meant to. You are an awesome little kid. One minute you will be fighting me and the next you’ll be snuggling up next to me. Having you around as a little brother makes me realize why Dad loves being a father. I swear sometimes, I’d like to peek inside your head. I’m sure I’d see wheels and gears all spinning at a million revolutions a minute just to keep up with your ideas. You’re fun to be around. Exasperating to be around. Exhausting to be around. 

I know Mom and Dad will always be there for you but I wonder how you will make out without strong older brothers to keep you in line. That eight to twelve year difference between us and you is big. I know Ike and I and maybe even Zac will move on before you are grown. I have to talk to them about that. I wish I already had, cause now I may not get a chance. We have to make an effort to stay close to you. We have to make an effort not to leave you behind. You’re probably going to need all of your brothers in force to keep you in line. I’ll try to be there for you. I can tell you I love you. I do quite often. It’s okay to say that to a little guy. I love you Mac-man. Stay good. Stay wild. Stay independent. Stay you.

Dear Zoe.

My sweet little Zoe. You are mine. I can lay claim to you as long as I give you back occasionally, to Mom and Dad for caretaking.

When Mom and Dad first told us she was pregnant with you I was a little bit embarrassed. Forgive me for that, I was a stupid self-centered fourteen-year-old. I was more worried that my friends would think my parents ‘still did it’ than I was about the miraculous event that was about to take place.

I watched you grow. I don’t remember paying much attention when Mom had the other kids. You, I watched. I watched Mom get sick and I put cold cloths on her face. And, I made coffee out on the balconies of hotels for Dad because the smell made Mom sick. 

I watched as Mom got bigger and bigger. She as ‘glowing’ as Dad called it. Mom was just happy. I worried about all the traveling, but Mom just kept trudging along with us. When Mom finally did go home, I was worried because for the first time we were separated. Dad was with us, Mom was home with the girls and Mac. It was a scary time. It was a lonely time. But, we were promoting the Christmas Album and we were committed to the promotional tour. The phone bills must have gone through the roof because I know all of us were calling several times a day. Dad never complained through, not once.

When we finally got to go home it was almost Christmas and Mom was huge. And truthfully, she was cranky and tired but we didn’t care. We just took care of her, and Dad said to ignore her hormonal emotions. We were all just waiting for you to make an appearance in the world.

I played with you before you were born. You kicked Mom a lot when you were inside and sometimes we could see a recognizable part of you right through Mom’s skin. Sometimes it would be the outline of a foot and once I saw your hand print. A real handprint, I could see your fingers and thumb and you weren’t’ even born yet. Sometimes you were just little bumps and rises and I would tickle them, and watch as you moved away from the tickling. Mom would laugh and it was amazing.

Mostly, I did that late at night. Mom couldn’t sleep and no one else was up to see. Mom knew I would never let Ike and Zac see me do that. Again, I was stupid. They might have enjoyed it, joined in the wonderment of it.

When Mom’s belly button popped out we teased her a lot. We told her that it was her Butterball Thermonitor and that you were done but you didn’t think so. In fact, you must have been very happy and secure where you were because you stayed there two weeks after your lease was up. Mom was not too happy about that, I can tell you.

Then it was finally time and Mom practically had to sneak into the hospital and sneak away just as quickly because of the fans and the press. When Mom opened up that blanket and showed us your perfect little face I fell totally in love. Okay, I was in love with a newborn but Wow.

The cool part of being fifteen years older than you is that I get to practice with you. You are my baby. I can love and play with you but if you get cranky or stinky, I get to turn you back over to Mom and Dad fast.

Ike and I fought over you. Not really fought, but we argued over who got you as soon as you woke up. But, then we had competition too. Zac was especially good at sneaking you away just when Mom got you in a good mood and smelling like baby powder. I had to share with Jes and Avie too, it was the pits until your newness wore off. Then I got you more to myself. 

If ever there was and is a baby that is well loved it is you, Zoe. Maybe that’s why you’re such a good baby. Mom says that’s why you are so content and you don’t need to cry. I don’t care what the reason, you are a wonderful baby.

You’re a show business pro and just over a year old. You’ve been on the road with us almost since you were born. Imagine a baby of less than a year and you’ve been around the world. You won’t remember of it course and we’ll take you back when you get older. You need see it when you’re old enough to appreciate it.

You have come into a crazy family, Zoe. You’ve got older brothers that will probably run you ragged and protect you when you get older. We love you madly.

I find babies fascinating. Of course I get to study you because you’re the one I know best. You’re an amazing little miracle I look at your tiny fingers and toes and its hard to believe that you will grow up to our size someday. 

Zoe you are going to be so spoiled and so loved. You are very blessed baby. I hope someday you realize what a gift that is. You came into this world and were instantly love by eight people and that doesn’t count anyone past our immediate family. 

You helped me get past being an awkward immature adolescence and begin the process of understanding adult love. Just observing Mom and Dad through your birth was an amazing process. It made me realize that what they have is the only important issue in the world. Having love for another person or persons(s) is what counts. Creating a family unit is what we were put on earth to do. Now, I watch, I observe and I take notes in my head. That is what I wanted. Forever love.

Teenage boys aren’t supposed to admit openly to loving babies, but I do. I’m drawn to them and want to hold them. Babies are wonderful. I hope I never forget that.

Don’t grow up to fast Zoe, we like you just as you are; sweet and innocent. My special baby. I love you.

* * * *

Dear Ike,

Did you think I forgot you? No way, man. You’re such a part of me that sometimes I forgot where you end and I begin. I have a hard time separating myself from you. You are the person I’ve always looked up to. The one who makes things happen. Sometimes the big brother in you gets in the way. You want to protect me, us. Sometimes you need a nudge to get of the way. Sometimes you’re the one doing the nudging to us.

Sometimes, Ike I think being the oldest must suck. You’ve got no one to turn to, no one to get you out of trouble, no one to look up to. Maybe you look up to Dad, I don’t know. Maybe that’s why you’re so serious a lot of time. I like it when you’re goofy too, it balances out my own serious side.

Ike you’ve always been there for me. When we were little, I liked it when we shared a bed. We would talk and whisper way into night or until Dad would tell use if we didn’t go to sleep he was going to separate us. That always did the trick. We didn’t want to be separated, or at least I didn’t want to be separated.

When you got your own bed and I got Zac and it wasn’t the same. Not that I ever minded sharing with Zac because I didn’t. He needed me and he grew on me, but I kind of thought you left me behind and I was a little lonely.

I guess I had to get used to that feeling. Maybe it’s just a part of being a younger brother. You were always moving onward and I was always struggling to catch up. I used to wish that we were twins so we couldn’t be separated. It took me a long time to get used to the idea of being separate; of being an individual.

You helped give me that. Independent. You wouldn’t let me cling and I appreciate that now if I didn’t then. You pushed me out in front and when my legs were shaking with fright you just stepped up and held onto me until I could stand up by myself. I don’t think I’ve thanked you for helping me learn to be me. I know some brothers that put their younger brothers down for wanting to be different but you never did. You always encouraged me to be different. Hey brother. I am different. Or at least I don’t follow the ‘in’ trends. I know who I am and stick to my own values and beliefs. 

I never told you I got into a fight over you, Ike. The split lip I got just before the photo shoot. I smashed Brian Crossman’s nose. He split my lip in return. He said a smart-ass remark about you and it made the kids laugh. It just wasn’t right for Brian to do that, and I shoved my fist in his face. I don’t know who was more surprised, me or him. Everyone knows I don’t to argue or fight.

You have never made fun of me for like art and reading and stuff. Maybe because you like the same stuff, but it means a lot to me that you’re always there to support me.

That in some way bring me to music. Don’t ask me how. Everything in my whole life always lead to music one way or another.

Thank you Ike for music. You started it. It followed. I love it. I can’t imagine my life without music, without lyrics and poetry. If I couldn’t single I still have the music. I’d still have the expression, the release, the outlet for emotion. I think if I have a soul it must be music. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. 

Ike you are one of the nicest guys I know. I know that must not sound cool but there’s nothing wrong with being nice. You’re the one everyone turns to for answers and help. When action needs to be taken you do it. Everyone else is still sitting around talking about solutions. You make them happen. You’re a man of action, and that’s good. I think that someday you’re going to be a powerful force in the music industry. I know you won’t get there by stepping over or on top of anyone either because you have integrity. Look out music world you’re going to the Top!

P.S. I don’t think I have to tell you I love you. I think I’ve told you every day of my life everytime I spoke your name. Ike is synomonous with love to me. That’s a nice thought, I wish I’d though of that when I talked to Mom and Dad. Tell them for me. You can do that, because you know me better than anyone. I’m a part of a you and you are a part of me. Brothers but more, best friends, confidantes. We need to mind melt so as not to lose that contact.

Take care of Zac, Ike. Sometimes he’s goofy and sometimes he’s the one with the answers. You have figure it out on the fly because he’s just being Zac. He’s still innocent enough to believe. Trust Zac.