Brocious continued, "I'll be in the last room on the left, down there, to help you with the VR gear. Everyone should visit that room, but we can only do six people at a time so some of you will have to wait. You'll like it though. We will be taking a tour of old-time Clarion --- way back in 2005 when I was only a little older than you are now. If you watch closely, you'll maybe even see me back then. Make sure to think about what you see, 'cause you will have to write a report about your visit to the Castle."
   "Yes, Mr. Brocious," the kids chanted again. Why was their hair so very short and why was each and every head striped orange and black?
   "OK. Go!" And, the group dissolved in a chattering cloud only to reform in small clusters around the screens in the hall and at the door of the Virtual Reality room. One kid though --- that skinny one named Alan --- made a beeline for the stairs, while peering upward toward the second level where I crouched. Rotten kid! I hoped he would mind his teacher and stay off of those stairs. In the meantime, I best find some clothes.
   I ducked back into the former cell, and turned to find that it contained men's clothing. How very handy! Also, cut into its side was an archway that led to the next cell. Peeping nervously through this, I could see similar openings connecting all of the cells in this block to make an arcaded hallway, sort of like beads on a string. That was my avenue of escape from inquisitive Alan, but first for some clothes. I looked at the exhibits in the room. Most significant were three fully clothed manikins. One was dressed as though for a day in the woods and was labeled "Steve Shreffler --- 2000." His duds were obviously too large for me. The next dummy was dressed for an evening on the town and was labeled "Kent Pope --- 1965." Hey, I know these guys! Kent's clothes were too small for me. Shades of Goldilocks, the third model was just right. It was dressed in a suit and tie and labeled "Charles Alexander --- 1995." Ah, the judge. This was more like it.
   The rest of the room was given over to an artful display of shoes, shirts, belts, jackets and other such stuff. Each item had its label. At the far corner of the room, a screen flashed the words, "Say a Name or Help." As I started peeling Chuck Alexander's clothes from the dummy, I muttered, "Kent Pope," just to see what would happen.  The screen immediately lit up with the face of my old scouting chum. He was dressed in the same clothes that were now on display, and he proceeded to talk about the dances that used to be held at the Ross Memorial back in the sixties. He even went so far as to demonstrate some of those old dance steps --- snappy things like the Monkey, the Twist and the Pony. As he hopped about on the screen, I hopped about on the cell floor, getting into Chuck's pants. Ah, a good fit. Now I put on the shirt and tie, and finished with the suit coat. A quick look in a handy mirror to push my hair into place, and I was feeling a lot more confident about meeting people in this oddly reconstituted version of the jail. I left Kent as he was starting to talk about disco days in Clarion and set off down the arcade to make my getaway. The shoes squeaked but the clothes were warm and fine, and felt like a protection against the strangeness of this place.
   The next room contained Women's Fashions, then came Toys and then Housewares. I was moving fast, but could see that each room was much like the one where I had borrowed my outfit. A screen in the corner overlooked dense displays of everyday objects. Each object was labeled with a name and date, and it was obvious that you could gratify your curiosity about anything by merely speaking a word or two to the screen. Cool! I was very tempted to ask about the Veg-a-Matic and the Salad Shooter, but something told me that I had no time to dawdle. The arcade ended with a room devoted to tools, where I turned left to return to the catwalk. I was feeling pretty confident in my spiffy suit and so I leaned against the railing and surveyed the hall of the museum at my leisure. Rooms similar to those I had just left lined the opposite wall. Over each cell door was a sign and these read Hobbies, Nature, Sports, Events and Geography. Below, the kids had mostly disappeared into rooms that were no doubt set up in similar fashion to those on this upper level.
   Suddenly though, down below, there was that Alan kid again, pointing up at me and shouting excitedly, "There he is! There he is! The naked man!"