"It all started the first time Curtis was kidnapped. He was eight years old and the guy nabbed him while he was walking home from school. He suckered him into the car, or just flat out snatched him...no one knows the exact details...but the end result was the guy taking Curtis to a cabin in the middle of nowhere.

"He hadn't been officially missing in the eyes of the police for more than four hours before Curtis was found on a road in the hills. His white shirt was covered in blood that turned out to be not his own, and he seemed perplexed that the elderly couple seemed so concerned about him. He had been walking home when found, apparently unhurt.

"Whatever statement Curtis gave the police, I've never read it, so I can't tell you everything. What I can tell you is that Curtis was locked in the cellar of the guy's cabin, bound and gagged. At some point, he managed to slip his ropes, find a board among the detritus there in the basement, and make his way upstairs.

"The guy was making popcorn--the foil, Jiffy Pop kind, as I've heard the story--on the stove. With his back turned. Curtis slammed the board, broken end first, into the guy's kidneys. Then he pulled it out. And did it again. The guy fell over and was probably not even completely in shock by the time Curtis was at the front door, starting his walk home.

"He had seemed like a normal kid before that. I used to let lunch at the same table with him. But that incident and whatever had happened there in that cabin...I don't know, gave him purpose.

"After three months of hanging around playgrounds and the downtown park after dark, he managed to get abducted again. This time he had a small kitchen cutting knife hidden on his person to start out with. Once it became clear that he was a captive, he reportedly waited until the abductor pulled into an alleyway and brought the car to a stop. Then Curtis drew out the blade and left it stuck in the guy's cartoid artery. So sweet and innocent looking, which he was if you weren't paying attention, Curtis was hardly ever searched when taken.

"At least twice a year Curtis would engineer his own seemingly helpless plight in order to be mistaken for prey. His parents couldn't seem to control him; like the rest of us, they were scared of him. He'd be in gym, or at lunch, or on the playground...but no matter what, you felt like you could see him, far back behind his eyes, plotting the next "incident." And when he did get roped into talking with a counselor or therapist, he seemed to give all the right answers. It didn't seem that there was anything wrong with him...at least not that you could put your finger on. And every time, the one thing you could prove was that he was a victim. As a result, he was never incarcerated for what he did.

"He had racked up fifteen kills, thirteen men and two women, by the time we graduated high school. Then we never heard from him again...his family moved away.

"I honestly had put him out of my mind until I was riding in the car of a friend of mine in downtown Chicago last week. Since the last time Curtis was on my mind, I had married, divorced, moved to three different cities and finished my masters.

"But as I glanced out the window...there on the corner opposite was Curtis. He still could pass for thirteen or fourteen. He had always looked preternaturally young...but now I wondered how he managed it: hormones of some kind? Surgery?

"He didn't look directly at me, so there's no way he could have known I was there. But I saw him, all right. He was climbing into the back of a taxi with the "off duty" light blazing, eyes wide and innocent.

"I don't have a child...my sister has two, and I think those are the closest I'm ever going to come to having any of my own, so I dote on them like any good uncle should. So on one hand, I can't say that I entirely disapprove of Curtis and his hunting.

"On the other hand, I ignored the papers for the rest of my visit there. And was glad to go back to Boston when the weekend ended."