Chapter 1

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Hey, how ya doin'? Name's Hugh Johnson. No, really! "Hugh", not Hubert, is actually on my birth certificate. Hugh is a long-standing family name due to a great-grandfather being a war hero or something, and I'm lucky enough to have been saddled with the Johnson surname as well. Even worse, my Dad's name is also Hugh. That's right: I'm Hugh Johnson, Jr. It's actually not that bad. Some girls want to find out if I "live up to the name" (well, except for the "Junior" part), and they don't go away disappointed. My Dad has a way with the ladies too. That's what broke my parents up when I was 13. I lived with my Mom but kept in touch with my Dad by phone and e-mail as I got older. When I turned 18 I left home to travel the country, following my thumb. That was a few years ago. My Dad said I could stay at his place whenever I was in the area, and I take him up on it once or twice a year. Oh, another thing about my Dad and me: he's in his mid-forties and has aged quite well. We look a lot alike. In fact, aside from some light wrinkles and "salt & pepper" in his hair, we could be brothers. We've even been mistaken for each other when it's dim. Anyway, enough background. I had just shown up on my Dad's doorstep, ready for a shower, hot meal and soft bed when I remembered that he was on vacation in New York for another few days. Luckily, I recalled where he kept his spare key in a small niche near the front door. I replaced the key before locking the door behind me...aah, blessed comfort!

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