They gave him a name when they took him from his catatonic mother to the care facility, a different name when they placed him with a family, yet another at Confirmation and finally, on turning eighteen, he fought and harassed and stood in the clerk’s face until they found it, his original birth certificate. On it were his mother Jane Doe, his father Unknown, his birthdate December 10 and his first last name, his point of origin.

He had it changed that day. He left town with two pair Jockeys and ten dollars, feeling clean as spring water: henceforth, Hyphen Blank.