Q: Read the following context and answer the question. Context: Another phone call at just after three. He answered on the third ring. "Is this Mr. Ray--uh. . ." The sound of shuffling papers. "Yes." The voice brightened perceptibly, strapped on a mask of friendliness. "My name is John Donovan. I'm an attorney representing the family of Donald Ackerman. I'm sorry to be calling so late." "It's not late for me." A laugh, intended to sound nervous or flustered. To Ray, it only sounded false. "That's right, of course. Only late for me. Do you mind if I tape record this conversation?" Smooth segue, meant to catch him off guard, startle him into acceptance. "Yes, I do mind. Can I help you?" You fucking bastard. John Donovan paused on his end of the line. Ray imagined him reaching for a legal pad upon which to take notes (just as he was supposed to imagine), though, of course, the tape recorder was still running. "Um, I was wondering if I could get some information?" "Sir, federal law prohibits me from acknowledging either to confirm or deny the presence of the individual of whom you have spoken or his participation in our program." Ray grinned. "Very well done," the lawyer said. "I guess that sets the parameters." "I guess it does." "Were you working two nights ago." "Sir, I am bound by Center policy and state law from discussing with you the work schedule of our employees at this facility unless you are an officer of the law or bearing a subpoena, in which case, I am only authorized to refer you to my supervisor." Ray grinned again. He was enjoying this. "What if I told you I have possession of a subpoena?" "Have you spoken to our attorney?" Ray countered. "In fact, son, yes I have. This afternoon." Ray grunted. Standard level of communication. "That's good, because I haven't. Which means, of course, that I'm not prepared to talk to you at all until advised on my statement by legal counsel." Question: Who did Ray receive a call from? Answer:

OPTIONS:
- not enough information
- His supervisor
- Donald Ackerman
- John Donovan

A: John Donovan

input: OPTIONS:
- not enough information
- went to other doctors to get a different diagnosis and treatment option.
- went on to pursue learning to drive.
- felt like giving up from the years of stress and confusion about the mysterious headaches. Now, answer this question: Read the following context and answer the question. Context: Yes; I have a rare form of cluster/ice pick headaches that can affect any part of my body. It's quite uncommon, but essentially I can get an excruciating migraine in my arm, leg, etc., on top of getting them in my head/temples. For years my family and I had no idea what was happening, and with no vocabulary to properly explain what was happening, I described it for about fifteen years as "beeping." Doctors told us it was anything from growth spurts to a grab for attention, and for a while I gave up trying to figure out what they were. When they got worse and I couldn't ignore them anymore, I was finally sent to a neurologist, who diagnosed me with ice pick headaches. I let out a sigh of relief that I didn't even know I was holding in; I felt like I could finally breathe. Years of stress and confusion washed off of me, and I started taking a beta blocker to prevent them. I've been on them for a few years now, and it's changed my life for the better. I used to be terrified of learning to drive, for many reasons, but a large one being that if I got an ice pick headache on the road, I couldn't guarantee the safety of those around me if I was at the wheel. Now I'm considering finally getting my license (considering - I still don't like being behind the wheel), I don't double over in white hot pain randomly anymore, and when I do get a cluster headache, I can still function. It almost sounds a little silly, but really, they were crippling, and being able to work through them on my own? It's the greatest gift I've given to myself. You know yourself better than anyone, even if you feel like you don't know yourself. If something feels wrong, don't just live with it - keep pushing for a correct diagnosis! Question: After the end of the story, the author probably: Answer:
A:
output: went on to pursue learning to drive.

Problem:OPTIONS:
- There are ambulances
- There are police cars
- not enough information
- It is dry and hot.

Read the following context and answer the question. Context: The sound of the clacking grew unbearable, so we turned the volume down. "Mute it." We muted it. "Turn it up; we might miss something." It's a silent movie. We won't miss anything. The sound of clacking gradually fills the room as my brother reluctantly turns up the volume. I can tell he's pressing hard on the button, jamming his thumb down in defiance or muted anger. He doesn't like for anyone to tell him what to do with the remote. But my grandmother wants the volume up, so we turn it up. We're all sitting along the edges of the tiny living room, staring at the fuzzy black-and-white images as they hazily walk across the television screen. I can hear a siren outside, barely discernable and then gone entirely. "Who's that?" my brother asks, evidently past his momentary and barely-noticeable indignation over the remote. "Uncle Arehl, and maybe his sister, Edna," my grandmother says, leaning in closer. "I think it's Edna," she says, in the tone of a doctor diagnosing a disease, as if the verdict was somehow relevant to someone who has only the vaguest idea who Arehl's sister is, or was. Uncle Arehl (I don't know precisely whose uncle he is, or for what the two initials of his name once stood) saunters slowly across a dry, patchy lawn, and the camera follows him. For some reason I'm more interested in the lawn--if it can be called that--than in the people on it. The sun in the movie is blazing, and everyone filmed looks only briefly at the camera before averting their faces once again to look at the stubbly grass. The camera pans once again and I can see an incredibly rutted path leading from the porch to the fence at the edge of the yard, broken pieces of concrete amid deep tire tracks fossilized in sun-baked mud. The fence is low, wire like a chain-link, but lower, with metal stakes holding it up instead of tubes. Question: What is it like outside in the movie? Answer:
****
A:
It is dry and hot.