Silver was sitting up now, trying to understand. It was bizarre being so young again, to feel that much resentment, but it was not as alien as the violent hatred he had experienced moments before. This was something from the hotel then, not a sudden break in his mind. He found, when he was able to reassemble as his thoughts from the scattering, that Tony was awake, and about as shaken as he was. Tony had hated before, but not that kind of hatred, and he related far better to the boy and the red ball than Silver did. Yet he had no more idea what was going on. He urged Silver to take out the phone and check his vitals, but the phone was far off, on the table near the radio, and Silver didn't think it was a good idea to get up just yet.