Night, and then the next morning, and then Sam was up and about.  One of the things his parents had insisted he do while he was here at home for the summer was get some credit for school, rather than just hang about and do nothing.  (Sam had already told them he was not going for a summer job, they were all taken up by the teenagers.)  He'd decided to get something relatively simple out of the way - Philosophy.  Even for a liberal arts major like him, that was just a bunch of nothing.  (Granted, he knew that<em>he</em>could turn his stuff into something actual.  But no matter, readers.)<br/><br/>A bit after noon, he got a phone call.  Checking his cell, he could see that it was Max.  "Max, ready to-"  Then the voice on the other end started speaking.  That was not Max.  "I'm sorry, but do I know you?  You've got my best friend's phone, but I'm<em>pretty sure</em>you're not him."  Frankly, if the voice on the other end kept saying things like what had just been uttered, he was going to hang up and dismiss it.  Max had probably just lost his phone and someone picked it up.