He was eleven years old then, petite and blonde like his mother Donna, and an only child. His name was Elden, which he hated, so his mother had taken to calling him El. It was just the two of them as his father had disappeared the moment his mother had told him that she was pregnant; both were sixteen at the time.

Donna earned a very comfortable income working from her home as a fabric designer, and she was teaching El all about her craft. They lived in a large house in rural Montana; their closest neighbor was about forty miles away. They were the fourth and fifth generations of her family to live there. The mountains and meadows surrounding their home gave them a spectacular view. Other than their home, there was not a man-made object as far as the eye could see.