RⱯHM grew up a block away from a waterpark that no longer exists because the automatic chlorinator in the kiddy pool broke and someone just decided to eyeball it. Other than that there is nothing particularly compelling about RⱯHM, whose mother and father named him simply the anglicized Hebrew Rahm, and whose substitute teachers would always call Răm, like the sheep, or the football team from who knows where.
One January Rahm learned the names and distances of stars in all the winter constellations but had forgotten them by the next year. All he can remember now is that if someone holds a candle 5 miles away it will give you the same amount of heat as the star Arcturus. You also might want to know that Rahm is short for his age, which at his age just means he is short. Or maybe you want to know that Rahm flushed a moth down the toilet when he was seven and then cried about it for an hour, but has never done anything bad since. Ever. Rahm cannot spell tarradactile to save his life. Sometimes he imagines situations where he would have to do some trivial task to save his life, and he can’t do it so he or a loved one dies. He fears this task will one day be spelling. Though he is also a bad swimmer, and that seems like a more likely way to die.