Analyzing the rational actor model of decision essays

Breaking down the balanced on-screen character model of choice papers The underlying section of this book manages how experts use models to foresee conduct inside government. Utilizing model 1, or the sound on-screen character model, experts can anticipate the future moves a specialist will make dependent on the supposition that the operator will pick choices that have the best utility. The operators objectives or goals, options, results, and decision, are the four ideas experts use in deciding moves specialists will make. There are four conditions of being in which examiners place specialists and two kinds of judiciousness the operator may use inside these states to decide. During the principal express the specialist is outfitted with minimal measure of data and thinks in a notional (restricted setting) state. As the operator gets more data their condition thickens and the specialist moves from the notional into the conventional, at that point recognized, lastly the represented condition. As the specialist travels through these states, their discernment likewise changes. During the underlying states the specialist can act in a limited basis where he has restricted assets or data available. As the specialist again rises it start to utilize an increasingly far reaching method of reasoning where all choices are positioned and the operator picks the activity with the best utility paying little mind to outcome. The RAM is an extraordinary instrument for investigators to use in anticipating potential results. Notwithstanding, as progressively complex ideas, for example, institutionalism and procedure become possibly the most important factor and leaders must search for choices that expand utility, yet in addition not appear to be undermining. ... <!

Superior Reflective Essay Writing Tips

Unrivaled Reflective Essay Writing Tips Intelligent exposition A key component of this paper is sharing essayists experience. In this manner, when composing your intelligent exposition, you have to depict your own understanding and express your sentiments on the happened occasions. The reason for talking about certain snapshots of life or circumstances is to show that they are huge for you. Also, along these lines, you may exhibit how human relations are constructed. In some cases, an intelligent paper might be contrasted with a philosophical work. The fact of the matter is that it dissects the circumstances individuals get into consistently. Delivering this paper is an extraordinary method to show your imaginative abilities. Moreover, it is a brilliant opportunity to tell that you realize the best way to make a nitty gritty examination of the issue and plainly express your sentiment on it.Producing Reflective Papers Would you like to realize how to compose an intelligent paper proficiently? Note that it is basic to communicate your character while depicting specific occasions. You have to show your disposition towards the broke down circumstance. Along these lines, attempt to clarify how it has influenced you. Has it changed your point of view? Incidentally, there is an impressive assortment of themes for composing intelligent works. One of the most mainstream is The estimation of companionship. While inspecting it, you have to contemplate profoundly over such idea as kinship. You should attempt to show what it makes a difference to you. In any case, remember to end your background into account while investigating this issue. Typically, intelligent papers are brimming with talk questions. Composing an Outline This area presents the manner in which you are going to deliver your work. In this manner, while setting up an intelligent exposition diagram, you have to detail the standards of composing your paper. Note that it is vital to prepare a ton to turn into a specialist in delivering such kind of paper. Paper Structure There are no official guidelines for organizing intelligent works with a certain goal in mind. The technique for composing such papers varies from that of others. It regularly happens that a postulation explanation just as end might be indistinct regardless of the intelligent article themes. Plan for Writing a Reflective Paper Before you begin creating your work, locate an exact intelligent article definition to know precisely what you are going to manage. At that point, compose a presentation. It ought to educate perusers about the portrayed circumstance or occasions. You may give significant subtleties to show perusers your paper. The body should introduce your thoughts regarding the talked about subject. An end should summarize the key purposes of your intelligent paper. In this area, you have to impart your insight about the issue. Intelligent Essay Topics Presently, you know the response to the inquiry What is an intelligent exposition? With regards to the subjects for intelligent expositions, they are various. In the event that you pick an intriguing one, you will compose a prevalent work. In the event that you don't know which point to choose, connect with us. We are the best recorded as a hard copy an intelligent exposition of top quality. Paper Format This work can be organized in APA, MLA, Turabian, or some other intelligent exposition position. Everything relies upon the guidelines gave by the educator. You should be mindful so as to sort out indents, commentaries, references, and other paper components appropriately. Intelligent Essay At the point when I joined ESL class, my cardinal point was to realize how to compose. It implies I needed to figure out how to build and create sentences. Aside from that, I had the expectation to realize how to develop content with proof. On the general scale, I wanted to procure information and abilities in the composing domain. In fact, the ESL 273 exercises have not exclusively been thorough yet additionally charming. It is attributed to the way that they included loads of activities that built up my composing abilities. Today, I am a pleased understudy since I have various bits of knowledge with respect to composing. This exposition mirrors my composing venture. A lot of my involvement in ESL 273 has been underscored. In uncovered layouts, the paper gives my composing portfolio. Shortcomings Any learning procedure has solid and frail focuses. Obviously, I encountered a few deficiencies while seeking after this course. I would term such inadequacies as my significant shortcomings. One of the fundamental issues experienced is that a few components of composing were not all around caught. I would credit this to intricacy of certain composing structures. Regardless, it is my expectation that I will learn them through experience. Such perspectives incorporate definition of sentences utilizing dynamic voice. After the appraisal of the greater part of my compositions, it is anything but difficult to see the shortcoming of developing sentences utilizing dynamic voice. Mostly, I utilized latent voice. Despite the fact that there was nothing amiss with the statement of considerations, it would be novel on the off chance that I built dynamic voice sentences right. Nonetheless, by and by there is not a lot to examine about my shortcomings since I am sure about my present composing a ptitudes. Weirdness At the point when I started my ESL 273 exercises, I was amazingly poor recorded as a hard copy. Development of sentences to make an understood explanation was massively hard for me. On the off chance that one read through my sentences, they couldn't discover a slight importance of the expressions. Also, even instructors couldn't determine whether the announcement demonstrates present, past or future tense. This was a significant deficiency, and I never accepted that I could destroy it. Shockingly, it was bizarre to such an extent that the exercises gave me sufficient experience to rapidly get a handle on this expertise. Basically, I would term such an unconstrained change as the most unusual thing that transpired while contemplating essential ideas of composing. Enhancements At the time I joined this class, I was bad at composing. In any case, I am happy that I have made huge upgrades most definitely. For example, the experience that I have increased through activities made me a superior typist. As though that isn't sufficient, I would now be able to associate sentences and produce a smart thought in each passage. What's more, I can associate realities with proof. For example, the work I expounded on Animal Testing is of extraordinary noteworthiness. This article included expounding on how researchers unreasonably use creatures for incidental tests. It required realities that should have been validated by proof. I composed it to the degree of winning the best grades in the class. Another important experience is the point at which I expounded on Back to Past in Time. The way wherein I built sentences and fundamentally examined them was basically stunning. In result, I earned great imprints for this fastidiously formed paper. End Composing is a craftsmanship. It includes kind game plan of words to make a sensible sentence. At the point when reasonable sentences are gone along with, they make a passage, which conveys a thought. In this manner, composing stays one of the best methods of correspondence. With this impact, there is a requirement for additional individuals to grasp the expertise of composing. Through this expertise, they are allowed to convey their unmatched considerations to the world. By taking on ESL 273 classes, anybody can be certain that choice composing abilities will be gained. By and by, I trait all my composing abilities to this astonishing course.

Website Analysis Paper Autism - Free Essay Example

Autism is among the common mental disorders that are encountered at the global scale. (approximately 60 cases per 10,000 people) (Brentani et al., 2013). This means that the risk of an individual born with Autism can be considerably high, making it unreasonable to ignore this health issue. In general, autism is associated with the violation of the development of the brain, with the person experiencing problems when trying to interact and communicate with others throughout their life as this disorder cannot be treated (Bauer, 2016). As a result, it becomes much more difficult for a patient to turn into a productive member of the society when growing up; meaning that the treatment must focus on the improvement of the quality of their life and functional independence. In turn, the possession of knowledge through the action of care, becomes quite important for both family members, and healthcare professionals. The specific needs of patients diagnosed with autism can present numerous challenges to caregivers. This fact has resulted in the emergence of numerous support groups that often interact with the target population through the Internet, namely websites. These include such resources like â€Å"Autism Society† and â€Å"Interacting with Autism†, with both having their strong and weak points. The positive sides of Autism Society include a wide range of topics that may be useful for caregivers (general information on autism, legal issues, family life, and many others), which make it adaptable. Moreover, it contains a section designed for the Spanish-speaking population, thus targeting a diverse population of the country (Autism Society, 2018). At the same time, the large volumes of text and the lack of pictures and graphs to supplement it can make the materials difficult to comprehend, or overwhelming; especially when the user does not have enough time to read them thoroughl y. As a result, the usefulness of Autism Society for caregivers, especially the ones that are not proficient in medical sciences, can be questionable. However, the other website, titled â€Å"Interacting with Autism† , utilizes a different approach to the supply of support, presenting most of the useful information in the form of videos, which makes it easier for caregivers to comprehend (Interacting with Autism, 2018). In this regard, it is more user-friendly than Autism Society. However, in comparison to the latter, the focus on video files can present problems for the people that do not speak English fluently since all the videos are presented in this language and do not contain subtitles. Both websites are influenced by evidence-based practice to a certain extent. It is particularly noticeable in the case of Autism Society, which cooperates with organizations such as the National Institutes of Health and Centers for Medicare and Medicaid Services (Autism Society, 2018). This collaboration can potentially provide the website with the additional relevant information on the disorder that can be used to develop the most effective guidelines for caregivers of all types. Interacting with Autism contains the data on such methods of treatment which involves the available services of occupational therapy and applied behavior analysis. As a result, the recommendations it provides are backed by evidence and, therefore, remain viable. At the same time, despite the high usefulness of the reviewed resources, it is possible to provide several recommendations for the improvement of their effectiveness from the perspective of individuals seeking support. For Autism Society, it is recommended to alter the text data with pictures, graphs, tables, and videos as it will improve its comprehensiveness and usefulness for a wide range of people. For Interacting with Autism, it is advisable to introduce the sections that target non-English speakers, as well as translate some of the most viewed videos to Spanish (or, at least, add Spanish transcriptions to those) to increase the potential audience of the website. By doing so, both reviewed support groups will be able to provide assistance to an increased number of caregivers, ultimately helping to improve the quality of life of numerous American citizens diagnosed with autism. References Autism Society (2018). Home. Retrieved from https://www.autism-society.org Bauer, L. R. (2016). Autism spectrum disorders: Five things you should know about autism treatment. Universal Journal of Psychology, 4(3), 139-141. Brentani, H., de Paula, C. S., Bordini, D., Rolim, D., Sato, F., Portolese, J., McCracken, J. T. (2013). Autism spectrum disorders: An overview on diagnosis and treatment. Revista Brasileira de Psiquiatria, 35, 62-72. Interacting with Autism (2018). Home. Retrieved from https://www.interactingwithautism.com

Extra Credit Assignment on Holocaust Survivor Susan Cernyak-Spatz - Free Essay Example

Sample details Pages: 3 Words: 1023 Downloads: 4 Date added: 2019/04/26 Category History Essay Level High school Tags: Holocaust Essay Did you like this example? The event which I attended was a presentation from Holocaust survivor, Susan Cernyak-Spatz. Unfortunately, she was not able to make it to speak due to not feeling well. Instead, a video of her speaking on surviving the Holocaust was played. Don’t waste time! Our writers will create an original "Extra Credit Assignment on Holocaust Survivor: Susan Cernyak-Spatz" essay for you Create order The one problem I had with this event was that it was extremely hard to hear her in the video, which made it difficult to fully comprehend everything she had to say and to take notes on it. I did go back and watch the video on my own and was able to comprehend most of what was said, but it still was hard to understand at times. The documentary began with her talking about the important people who came to power in 1933. One being Franklin D. Roosevelt and the other Adolf Hitler. She did not talk about Roosevelt much, except that he was a good person in power. She did, however, jump right into Hitlers coming to power. Some background on herself and family is that she lived in Berlin with her parents and ended up moving to Vienna. Then in Vienna in 1938, they had to leave behind everything like the food in their refrigerator and valuables like China plates. They left only bringing one suitcase to catch a flight from Vienna to Prague. Then from Vienna, they left for Poland, which was the only open border in 1939. However, they did not issue visas anymore to people with Jewish names, which meant her father had to make some illegal arrangements for them to get across the border. They were separated from their father because he had to go first to make sure everything would work. It just so happened that her father ended up making it out of Poland to Belgium on what was one of the last flights out at the time. Susans mother and her were deported to Beijing and were put in one of the five barracks there. They were searched and then went into a huge area to sit on straw and later experienced what was called the selection in Auschwitz. After she was selected, Susan goes to describe her initial view of the camp after the three day ride. Prior to getting there, they did not really know exactly what was at Auschwitz or what it had in store. All they knew was that people go there and never come back. She describes their arrival as having an indescribable smell, but nobody knew what it really was. There were two flames going up with smoke, but nobody made the connection that those were bodies burning. She remembers seeing an ambulance with a big red cross on it. She describes how psychologically, it gave her and others a sense of hope because when one sees an ambulance, they associate it with help and being taken care of. It was fascinating learning about the true hardships of life in Auschwitz. Susan described the bowl which everyone received as being basically all they had. The bowl was used to drink out of, eat out of, and pee into. This led to her talking about the precalculated dehumanization of people. They came to have no personalities, no utensils, and very little food. What they did have was piles of filth everywhere which led to many diseases. During the time of these hardships which Susan and others were faced with, the Jewish prisoners were in a liminal ground. Dr. Davis describes a liminal ground as a middle space between life and death (C.S. Davis, personal communication, September 27, 2018). While in Auschwitz, prisoners were no longer truly living, but they were also not dead yet. Unfortunately, they were stuck in the middle. When asked how Susan survived all of this, she said the most important thing was to accept the nightmare as your life. This can definitely apply to any circumstance in todays world as well. Everything in life is not always great, but by coming to terms with it and giving it your best to fight out that hard time or circumstance, you can combat just about anything, as seen by Susan surviving Auschwitz. I can apply this idea to my own life, because when I am going through a hard time, I remember to accept the negative aspects, and move on the best that I can. Susan then talked about her friend Lilly who decided to give up because it just was not the life she wanted to live, like many others chose to do. Chapter 5 of Deadzone, Death as a Horrible Other: A Relationship with the Other Side, clarifies that Characters lose their fear of death when they accept its inevitability (Davis Crane, 2019, p. 24). Many Jewish prisoners did not have the same perseverance as Susan. People like Lilly who had suffered so much, came to terms with death and its inevitability. They would rather accept their fate than live another day in the horrific concentration camp. Susan also described just how normal death became at Auschwitz. When it was most peoples time to go, many were physically and emotionally ready, almost allowing death to be their best option. This really constructs the idea about life and death by showing that if a persons quality of life is poor, they are probably more accepting of their life coming to an end. It also goes to show how the battle with ones conscious and will to survive vary among people. The strong willed people probably had more hopes and dreams outside of that camp, allowing them to push onward, while others, like Lilly, could not see the finish line. Susans story of surviving the Holocaust reminded me of , Night and Fog, a short film based on the Nazi concentration camps. The film was very sad and depicted things like torture, gas chambers, and piles of corpses. Although a film like this may be hard for some to watch, including the gruesome graphics is necessary in order to fully understand what took place. Just like Night and Fog, Susans story was definitive, which according to Dr. Crane, equates to undistorted the truth and only the truth (J. L. Crane, communication studies, October 30, 2018).

Ancient Islamic Art And Architecture - 1735 Words

Qur’anic inscriptions in Islamic art and architecture are common use to honor the words of God. These features not only illustrate the direct relationship between Allah and the Muslims, but they also represent a set of rules that seek to unify different religious groups under Islamic caliphate and design a reminder for citizens to pass on Islamic traditions to future generations. This set of rules defines the authoritarian importance of Islamic law disapproval of iconography of any kind. The Qur’an is believed to be used as reference in every public monument and object because it glorifies the words of Allah and keep alive the Islamic faith. The decoration of these buildings with quotations from the Qu’ran makes the poetry to be beautiful and thus proof of its divine origin. In this document, I will study the use of Qur anic engravings in Islamic art and architecture such as the Dome of the Rock, Umayyad aniconic coins, and Tiraz textiles to illustrate the import ance of the sacred passages in Islamic world. I will demonstrate how these carvings not only represent purity, convey glory, and preserve the words of God that were recited orally until the death of Prophet Muhammad at the end of the 7th century, but also hint historians about the importance of the existence and historical context of these buildings and objects by providing significant details on its date and place of manufacture. In early Islam, the Qur’an was at first recorded orally due to people’s incapabilityShow MoreRelatedEgyptian, Islamic and Roman Architecture Essay1539 Words   |  7 Pagescivilization is because its contributions to the world still seen, studied and absorbers. Egypt contribution has come along way and has mad an impact in on thousands of cultures worldwide. 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Dominos Pizza Enterprise Limited Delivery Chain

Question: Discuss about the Report for Dominos Pizza Enterprise Limited for Delivery Chain. Answer: Part-1 Dominos Pizza Enterprise is the largest franchiser of the worlds leading pizza delivery chain Dominos Pizza. It is the largest chain of pizza delivery in Australia with a vast network stores and sales. The Dominos brand is USA based company. Domino's Pizza Enterprises Ltd (Domino's Pizza) is the largest pizza chain in Australia in terms of both network store numbers and network sales. It is also the largest franchisee for the Domino's Pizza brand in the world.Dominos Pizza is a USA based company and has used the concept of franchise to expand its services and operations worldwide. Along with Australia the Domino Pizza has exclusive franchise rights in New Zealand, Netherlands, Switzerland, Japan, Belgium and Germany. Today the Dominos Pizza enterprise limited has more than 2000 operational stores and thus is the leading franchise of the Dominos brand (Domino's 2016). Dominos started as a small store in Queensland, Australia in 1983. The store provided the services of home delivery of pizza. Later in 1993 the franchise of Australian and NewZealand stores were bought and by 1995 the integrated franchise was rebranded to Dominos Pizza (Domino's 2016). Dominos pizza is recognized globally for the quality and the variety of the pizza delivered. The organization delivers pizzas of varieties which includes traditional pizza, gluten free pizza, chicken prawn pizza, Ham, cheesetomato based pizza, etc. Due to its variety and quality of the product, the organization has been able to create a huge fan based market for it globally. The organization emphasizes on the following values: It values to treat its customer with respect and love. It believes in thinking big and aiming higher which helps to grow. It believes in the policy of never stop learning It believes that the organization is an exceptional one. Based on these values the organization has set its mission statement as follows: Sell more pizzas and have more fun(Domino's 2016). The company believes that the success can be achieved from integrated efforts thus each employee of the company which includes store members to managers are considered to be the brand ambassador for the vision and mission of the organization. Thus, they are expected to follow the core values of the organization. Being a profit based organization; the company mission has a profit orientation and thus believes in selling more pizzas. The company aims to become the number one organization in terms of pizza and in terms of customer love and affection. Thus, it promotes for value creation, setting high aims, never stop learning attitude to sell more pizza and provide the best kind of satisfaction to their customers. Thus, overall purpose of the company is to provide customers with delights of pizza, be a part of their celebrations and thus become the number one pizza provider (Domino's 2016). Part-4 Corporate social responsibilityand ethics reflect the way business is executed in an organization. It helps in enhancing the quality of services, enhancing the brand image, helps in setting business standards and practices within the organization. Dominos Pizza Enterprise limited CSR strategy is also known as Dominos Pizza Responsible delivery plan. The strategy focuses on four business areas which are of importance to the business of the organization. These four areas are the food being made and served, the impact on the environment, the employees of the organization and the way the products and services are delivered to the community. Food: The Company treats food with respect and aims in ensuring that the pizza made and delivered are of the best quality in terms of taste, ingredients used and nutritional values. The company thus makes use of best quality of ingredients for making pizza (Anthony, Perrewe and Kacmar 2000). It employees highly skilled pizza makers (Domino's 2016). As its CSR initiative, the organization has become a signatory with the department of Healths responsibility deal to reduce the salt contents in the food, to display all the nutritional ingredients with their quantity for the customers, display information about colors, fats and artificial flavors, etc. and to display all the allergen information to the customers. Thus, no information is hidden from the customers (Jain and Kaur 2014). Similarly the company came up with various choices of pizza like fat free pizza, gluten free pizza, less cheese pizza, etc. so that variety of customers can enjoy the delight of pizza. The company follows all the necessary regulations and guidelines for making quality food products thus, following the proper ethical standards for food making (Domino's 2016). Environment: The organization has executed many strategies which display its responsibility towards the environment (Pasquier, et. al., 2005). The dominos pizza boxes are 100% recyclable, the delivery chain uses transportation which undergoes regular audit for pollution, the drivers are given a guideline to not to exceed the speed of the truck to 45mph so that the fuel consumption is reduced, the supply chain center and support office are built in accordance to BREEAM standards so that energy consumption is very low due to modern way of mechanical heating and cooling systems (Domino's 2016).Similarly in 2013 the company has made and partnership with Renault to help in developing electronic based cars which can be sued for delivering pizza in more eco friendlyways (Domino's 2016). Employees: organization takes great efforts in ensuring that the employees are having happy experiences working with the company. Employees are given proper training on communication, technology and services to enhance their abilities. There is a reward based performance appraisal system for employees (Domino's 2016). Community: through its CSR initiatives the company organizes various charity and volunteer day programs.Customers also take part in charity programs organized by the company. The company invests on teenage cancer trust to help the trust to improve the quality of life for young cancer patients of age group of 13 and 24. The company also has a national school tour program that enables students to visit the dominos and learn in making pizzas (Domino's 2016). Ethical standards Dominos have high ethical standards set for its employees. The code of ethics compliances with the laws of the country in which the company is in operation (Hafri and Djeraba 2004). Each employee has the responsibility to ensure that he/she follows the codes to the highest standards and deal in ethical manner with customers, colleagues and others. The company follows the trade regulations set by the country in which it is operational and employees ethical marketing strategies. The company prohibits any consultation with Competitor Companys regarding price or customers (Director Code of Ethic, n.d). All the information related to billing, payments, annual reports must comply with government regulations. All the advertisement should be used for good and should have no message that is annoying to others. All the advertisement claims must be truthful (Almanzar 2013). It can thus be said that the organization employees best practices of CSR and ethical conduct in doing business. References Almanzar, D. 2013. Domino's Pizza: Ethics Social Responsibility. [ONLINE] Available at: https://almanz21.blogspot.in/2013/09/dominos-pizza-ethics-social.html[Accessed 21 August 2016]. Anthony, W.P., Perrewe, P.L. and Kacmar, K.M., 1999.Human resource management: A strategic approach. Harcourt Brace College Publishers. Director Code of Ethic (n.d).Code of business conduct and ethics for directors, officers and employees. [ONLINE] Available at: https://media.corporate-ir.net/media_files/irol/13/135383/corpgov/directorethics.pdf[Accessed 21 August 2016]. Domino's. 2016. Inside Dominos. [ONLINE] Available at: https://www.dominos.com.au/inside-dominos[Accessed 21 August 2016]. Domino's. 2016. Vision, mission values. [ONLINE] Available at: https://www.dominos.com.au/inside-dominos/corporate/vision-and-mission/. [Accessed 21 August 2016]. Hafri, Y. and Djeraba, C., 2004, September. Dominos: A new web crawlers design. InProc. of the 4th International Web Archiving Workshop. Jain, R. and Kaur, S., 2014. Impact of work environment on job satisfaction.International Journal of Scientific and Research Publications,4(1), pp.1-8. Pasquier, J.C., Rabilloud, M., Picaud, J.C., Ecochard, R., Claris, O., Gaucherand, P., Collet, F., Chabert, P. and Mellier, G., 2005. A prospective population-based study of 598 cases of PPROM between 24 and 34 weeks gestation: description, management, and mortality (DOMINOS cohort).European Journal of Obstetrics Gynecology and Reproductive Biology,121(2), pp.164-170.

The Lucid Eye in Silver Town free essay sample

This extract tells of thirteen-year-old Jay August’s one-day visit to New York City from the perspective of his adult self. Quincy is unsure of the location of a good New York bookstore, having been gone from the city for most of the past fifteen years, but he directs the taxi driver to Forty-Second Street and Sixth Avenue. Arriving there, the driver lets his passengers out near a small park. Jay finds the park inviting, with its pigeons and benches and â€Å"office girls in their taut summer dresses,† and leads his father and uncle into the grounds. Standing in the park, looking up at the New York skyline, Jay suddenly feels something â€Å"sharp and hard† fall into his eye. Seeing the boy’s distress, Martin suggests he and Quincy take Jay out of the wind; perhaps he can find whatever has fallen into his son’s eye. Quincy, however, insists that they return to the hotel and find a doctor to examine Jay’s eye. We will write a custom essay sample on The Lucid Eye in Silver Town or any similar topic specifically for you Do Not WasteYour Time HIRE WRITER Only 13.90 / page Reluctantly, Martin defers to his brother. Arriving at the hotel, Jay is embarrassed as he is herded through the lobby by his father and his uncle. He tries to look â€Å"passably suave† even though his eye is shut and his face is probably red. Jay is appalled when his father shares his plight with an â€Å"old bum† in the lobby: â€Å"Poor kid got something in his eye. † Back in the hotel room, Quincy calls for a doctor. With a clean handkerchief, Martin attempts to remove whatever happens to be in Jay’s eye, but his son pushes him away. In pain, Jay refuses to open his eye. He wants to wait for the doctor. Narrator Jay August’s understanding of himself as a boy of thirteen shows it is he who finally sees most clearly. Looking back, Jay recognizes—sometimes wryly—the boy he had been, a â€Å"poor kid† from a small Pennsylvania town, one filled with restless longing and pseudo-sophistication. For the young Jay August, New York had been â€Å"the silver town. † Watching the â€Å"shimmering buildings† as they â€Å"arrowed upward and glinted through the treetops,† he had felt â€Å"towers of ambition, crystalline† rise within himself. The author uses this epithet â€Å"crystalline† for interpretation of the title of the text, where New York is called a Silver Town. Let’s look through the stylistic devices which the author uses in this extract. The stylistic device most prominent in the text is epithet. The boy’s feelings get home to the reader due to this stylistic device. In the description of the mark we can observe such epithets as â€Å"inviting† but the author also uses the metaphor â€Å"agreeably dusty† and it can serve as the contrast between these two words. The repetition of the word â€Å"and† can help us to concentrate on the description of events which take place in the park: â€Å"with the pigeons and the men nodding on the benches and the office girls in their tout summer dresses†¦Ã¢â‚¬  The author attracts out attention to the buildings. The epithet â€Å"shimmering† the metaphors â€Å"arrowed† and â€Å"rose† are aimed to create the atmosphere of a big city, which is like a dream, especially for people from the countryside. The author uses the parallelism in the sentence â€Å"one of them would take my hand, or put one of theirs on my shoulder, but I would walk faster, and the hands would drop away†. This similarity makes it easier for the reader to concentrate on the message. And this message describes the way to the hotel. It is obvious that the boy would like to look older and he didn’t want somebody to know about his problem. It can prove the fact that this boy is quite brave and patient. For describing the boy’s feelings the author uses simile: â€Å"it feel like a steel chip, deeply embedded†. But nevertheless the boy didn’t cry and complain. He tried not to worry his â€Å"guardians†: â€Å"It’ll work out† – he said. The general slant of the text can be characterized as emotional, because the author concentrates on the reaction of the main characters.

Narodnaya Volya (The Peoples Will, Russia)

Narodnaya Volya (The People's Will, Russia) Narodnaya Volya or The Peoples Will was a radical organization that sought to overturn the autocratic regime of the Tsars in Russia. Founded in:  1878 Home Base:  St. Petersburg, Russia (formerly Leningrad) Historical Context Narodnaya Volyas roots can be found in the revolutionary impulse that swept Europe in the late 18th and 19th century. Some Russians were deeply impressed by the American and French  revolutions and began seeking ways to encourage  ideals  of the French Enlightenment in Russia as well. The ideals of political liberation were intermixed with socialism- the idea that there should be some equitable distribution of property among societys members. By the time that Narodnaya Volya was created, there had been revolutionary stirrings in Russia for nearly a century. These crystallized in the late 19th century into a plan of action among the Land and Liberty group, who began to take concrete steps toward encouraging a popular revolution. This was also the goal of Narodnaya Volya. At that time, Russia was a feudal society in which peasants called serfs worked the land of wealthy notables. Serfs were semi-slaves with no resources nor rights of their  own and were subject to the despotic rule of their rulers for their livelihood. Origins Narodnaya Volya grew out of an earlier organization called Zemlya Volya (Land and Liberty). Land and Liberty was a secret revolutionary group organized to encourage revolutionary impulses among Russian peasants. This position stood in contrast to the other view of the time, in Russia, that the urban working class would be the primary force behind a revolution. Land and Liberty also used terrorist tactics to achieve its goals, from time to time. Objectives They sought democratic and socialistic reforms of Russian political structure, including the creation of a constitution, the introduction of universal suffrage, freedom of expression and the transfer of land and factories to the peasants and laborers who worked in them. They saw terrorism as an important tactic in achieving their political  objectives and identified themselves as terrorists. Leadership and Organization The Peoples Will was run by a Central Committee that was tasked with planting revolutionary seeds among peasants, students, and workers through propaganda and to bring that revolution into effect through targeted violence against government family members. Notable Attacks 1881: Tsar Alexander II is assassinated by a Narodnaya Volya bomb in St. Petersburg, following several earlier attempts to kill him.1880: A bomb is set off below the dining room of the Tsars Winter Palace, in one of the efforts to kill Alexander. He was unharmed, reportedly because he was late for dinner, but nearly 70 others were injured.Other government officials in Russia, selected for their symbolic significance.

Analysing The Challenges Facing Multilateral Organisations Today Politics Essay

Analysing The Challenges Facing Multilateral Organisations Today Politics Essay War is often the result of non negotiable problems/disputes. Since the end of the Second World War, liberal international theory advanced the establishment of international organizations such as the United Nations (UN) and its sub bodies, in the belief that such international forums were where state members have a chance to discuss and air their common issues and grievances and could prevent war and, widen the corporations between nation states. However, since its creation, the legitimacy as well as the effectiveness of these multilateral institutions has always been questioned. The end of the Cold War marked a new era of world politics where the United States (US) became the predominant power in the international system. In addition, the Iraq war of 2003, led by the US, but was not authorised by the United Nations Security Council (UNSC) and the issue raised a question about the hegemonic position of the US over the United Nations. This is just one of the many challenges multilater al organizations like the UN are facing today. The terrorist attack on 9th November on the US and similar attacks elsewhere in the world, as well as the increasing threat of weapon of mass destruction (being used by either a rogue state such as Iran or a terrorist group) in the 21st Century is another major challenge for the United Nations and its administrative departments. Moreover, with the increasing involvement of non state actors and non governmental organizations nowadays, the value of formal institutions like the UN is clearly affected in adverse ways. To clarify if multilateralism is in crisis or not, it is essential to firstly look at the difficulties posed by these new dimensions to multilateralism, then evaluate its reaction and effectiveness at tackling them. In this essay, the focus will be on UN as this is often seen as the vanguard of multilateralism. Firstly, the essay will examine what multilateralism can be defined as and will name the current challenges which Mul tilateralism faces, it will then go on to give analysis of the sources of those troubles. Finally, it concludes that such multilateral institutions like the United Nations are under real challenge to the effectiveness of their multilateralism; however, it is not yet in a crisis situation. The leaders of these organizations can no long presume their exchanges to be â€Å"business as usual† but need to take into account these growing troubles and think more about â€Å"reform† if multilateralism is to continue to function in a stable way. Before discussing whether multilateralism is effective one needs to consider what exactly multilateralism is. For Paul Nielsson, UN Commissioner, multilateralism is about ‘all parties’ carrying out ‘concerted efforts’ to strengthen the international regulatory framework’ (Jorgensen, 2007, p.2) and involves states ‘pooling’ both resources and sovereignty. The problem for many participants in multilateral processes is that the processes themselves are ‘often slow and difficult, and rarely do their results satisfy every participant’ (ibid). Thus, multilateralism is by definition a process where participants cannot expect a zero-sum outcome, where they can clearly identify their gains or losses and say it was a success or failure. Multilateralism is a compromise between states where its greatest success is that everyone is a winner and everyone is a loser, because nobody gets everything they want.

DecisionMaking Essay Example | Topics and Well Written Essays - 2000 words

DecisionMaking - Essay Example Generally, decision making consists of the following six steps (Glynn, Before taking the final decision, managers need to get an idea about the effectiveness of the course of action or remedy they intend to apply on a particular problem, so a post decision evaluation via feedback can be worth while. In the managerial decision making process, the management accountants play a decisive role although they neither indulge in making nor in implementing the final decision, the management accountant is held responsible for providing the information at each of the six stages mentioned above. Management is not concerned about how and from what procedures an accountant uses in his analysis and evaluation; eventually the main concern of the management is the information regarding the problems and on the basis of this information, management reaches on a decision (Steffan, 2008). Management accountant is responsible to elaborate the management that the data that is been taken is relevant to provide the information. Relevant data are the single most important ingredient in decision making (Drury, 2007). Relevant data usually consist of relevant cost and relevant revenue which must be considered by the accountants while choosing the alternative course of action; make sure only those cost and revenues will be incurred which are relevant to the decision making. BUDGETING: The budget is a quantitative expression of management objectives and a means of

A ustralian Company Accounting Coursework Example | Topics and Well Written Essays - 1500 words

A ustralian Company Accounting - Coursework Example Income tax Liability (Statement of Financial Position) $ 4,650 Requirement 3: Treatment: Doubtful Debts Expense: Doubtful debts represent that balance of amount which will not be recoverable out of the total trade receivables of the company. This is considered to be a trade expense thus is accounted for in the income statement of the company. Rent Revenue: Rent revenue is defined as an income generated by the company through renting out any of its assets. It can include machinery, equipment or property. All kinds of income generated by the company are included in the profit and loss account of the company. But for tax purposes it is taxable under savings income heading so it will be deducted from the profit of the company and taxable separately as the savings income has a different tax rate. Entertainment Expense: Entertainment expense comprises of the expense incurred during the process of entertaining the clientele of the company. As the entertainment expenses incurred on the emplo yees is not an allowable expense for tax purposes, it is assumed that this expense relates to the one incurred on the clientele unless otherwise stated. Thus it will also be included in the profit and loss account of the company for tax purposes as a deductible. Requirement 4: Calculation of Deferred Tax Asset and Liability: Calculation of tax base values of assets: MOTOR VEHICLE: Book Value ($) Tax Base ($) Motor Vehicle (Cost) 18,000 18,000 Motor Vehicle (Acc. Depreciation) (15.750) (18,000) ------------------- ---------------- 2,250 Nil Thus Deferred Tax Liability = 2,250 * 30% = $675 EQUIPMENT: Book Value ($) Tax Base ($) Equipment (Cost) 100,000 100,000 Equipment (Accumulated Depreciation) (60,000) (45,000) ------------------- ----------------- 40,000 55,000 Deferred Tax Asset = ($55,000-$40,000) * 30% = $ 4,500 RECEIVABLES: Tax Base = $12,000 Thus deferred tax liability = 12,000 * 30%= $3,600 RENT RECEIVBALE: Tax Base = $2,800 Thus deferred tax liability = 2,800 * 30% = $840 T otal Deferred Tax Liability = $675+$3,600+$840 = $ 5,115 Thus the new deferred tax asset and liability becomes $4,500 and $5,115 respectively. Requirement 4: Journal Entries: Deferred Tax Asset: Dr. Tax Expense (Statement of financial performance) $ 1,950 Cr. Deferred Tax Asset (Balance sheet) $ 1,950 Deferred Tax Liability: Dr. Tax Expense (Statement of financial performance) $ 2,370 Cr. Deferred Tax Liability (Balance sheet) $ 2,370 Question 2: REPORT Executive Summary This report is designed for the purpose of reflecting on the new accounting policy change that is being implemented by the company which requires the company to disclose its advertisement expense as an asset as opposed to be treated as an expense as it incurs. In this report it was observed and suggested that the criteria for the policy change implemented by the company met the recognition criteria of an asset as set by the AASB (Australian Accounting Standard Board), and was of material balance to be disclosed in t he financial statements of the company. Introduction: The purpose of this report is to determine if the new policy of the company to record its advertisement expenses as an asset is true and fair according to Australian

Is College Worth the Money? Essay -- Essays Papers

Is College Worth the Money? Imagine telling a student who just graduated from college that you have wasted four years of hard, stressful and even worse, expensive work. Unfortunately, in this cynical society today, the world isn’t just full of competitors, but it’s full of greedy money-grabbing businesses. The worst businesses aren’t manufacturing or electric companies, but colleges and universities. In Caroline Bird’s essay â€Å"College is a Waste of Time and Money,† she examines how college has been viewed for so long as the best place to send high school grads no matter whether they actually want to go or not. She adds that students don’t realize how much college costs and are wasting their parents time and money, which is especially a horrible thing to waste. Now that the economy is better since September 11th and states have been stabilizing their budget debts, it doesn’t make sense that tuition prices higher than ever for college students. When people think of college, they often think of their education like they had when they were in high school and grammar school. But colleges and universities aren’t schools. They’re all businesses. College isn’t paid for through taxes or government funded. It comes from our pockets. But other countries like Australia, England, Ireland and Germany run their colleges and universities just like a high school. Every person goes to the same college and it’s paid for through their government taxes. A college education is no longer an option, but it’s vital. The competition of getting a decent job is increasing and it’s almost impossible to find a high paying job without a bachelor's degree, which means more money goes to the already rich universities. It’s going to take a long tim... ...college or have dropped out of college who are doing better than people who have their master’s degree. We all know the story of Bill Gates and how he dropped out of Harvard to create Microsoft, one of the richest companies in the world. Of course Bill Gates was too smart for college, but there are a few other names who are doing better than adults with college degrees. Woody Allen was expelled from New York University and City College of New York. Steven Jobs, owner of Apple computers, left Reed College in Portland, Oregon, after only one semester and David Geffen, the founder of Geffen Records, flunked out of University of Texas and Brooklyn College in New York. College does have its good and bad, but the tuition money needs to decrease in both public and private schools. College should be the best time of everybody’s life, but money shouldn’t be a distraction.

Black House Chapter Twenty-four

24 D'YAMBA IS A BRIGHT and powerful spell; powerful connections form a web that extends, ramifying, throughout infinity. When Jack Sawyer peels the living poison from Mouse's eyes, d'yamba first shines within the dying man's mind, and that mind momentarily expands into knowledge; down the filaments of the web flows some measure of its shining strength, and soon a touch of d'yamba reaches Henry Leyden. Along the way, the d'yamba brushes Tansy Freneau, who, seated in a windowed alcove of the Sand Bar, observes a wry, beautiful young woman take smiling shape in the pool of light at the far end of the parking lot and realizes, a moment before the young woman vanishes, that she has been given a glimpse of the person her Irma would have become; and it touches Dale Gilbertson, who while driving home from the station experiences a profound, sudden yearning for the presence of Jack Sawyer, a yearning like an ache in his heart, and vows to pursue the Fisherman case to the end with him, no matter what the obstacles; the d'yamba quivers flashing down a filament to Judy Marshall and opens a window into Faraway, where Ty sleeps in an iron-colored cell, awaiting rescue and still alive; within Charles Burnside, it touches the true Fisherman, Mr. Munshun, once known as the Monday Man, just as Burny's knuckles rap the glass. Mr. Munshun feels a subtle drift of cold air infiltrate his chest like a warning, and freezes with rage and hatred at this violation; Charles Burnside, who knows nothing of d'yamba and cannot hate it, picks up his master's emotion and remembers the time when a boy supposed dead in Chicago crept out of a canvas sack and soaked the back seat of his car in incriminating blood. Damnably incriminating blood, a substance that continued to mock him long after he had washed away its visible traces. But Henry Leyden, with whom we began this chain, is visited not by grace or rage; what touches Henry is a kind of informed clarity. Rhoda's visits, he realizes, were one and all produced by his loneliness. The only thing he heard climbing the steps was his unending need for his wife. And the being on the other side of his studio door is the horrible old man from Maxton's, who intends to do to Henry the same thing he has done to three children. Who else would appear at this hour and knock on the studio window? Not Dale, not Jack, and certainly not Elvena Morton. Everyone else would stay outside and ring the doorbell. It takes Henry no more than a couple of seconds to consider his options and work out a rudimentary plan. He supposes himself both quicker and stronger than the Fisherman, who sounded like a man in his mid- to late eighties; and the Fisherman does not know that his would-be victim is aware of his identity. To take advantage of this situation, Henry has to appear puzzled but amiable, as if he is merely curious about his visitor. And once he opens the studio door, which unfortunately he has left unlocked, he will have to act with speed and decisiveness. Are we up to this? Henry asks himself, and thinks, We'd better be. Are the lights on? No; because he expected to be alone, he never bothered with the charade of switching them on. The question then becomes: How dark is it outside? Maybe not quite dark enough, Henry imagines an hour later, he would be able to move through the house entirely unseen and escape through the back door. Now his odds are probably no better than fifty-fifty, but the sun is sinking at the back of his house, and every second he can delay buys him another fraction of darkness in the living room and kitchen. Perhaps two seconds have passed since the lurking figure rapped on the window, and Henry, who has maintained the perfect composure of one who failed to hear the sound made by his visitor, can stall no longer. Pretending to be lost in thought, with one hand he grips the base of a heavy Excellence in Broadcasting award accepted in absentia by George Rathbun some years before and with the other scoops from a shallow tray before him a switchblade an admirer once left at the university radio station as a tribute to the Wisconsin Rat. Henry uses the knife to unwrap CD jewel boxes, and not long ago, in search of something to do with his hands, he taught himself how to sharpen it. With its blade retracted, the knife resembles an odd, flat fountain pen. Two weapons are twice as good as one, he thinks, especially if your adversary imagines the second weapon to be harmless. Now it has been four seconds since the rapping came from the window by his side, and in their individual ways both Burny and Mr. Mun-shun have grown considerably more restive. Mr. Munshun recoils in loathing from the suggestion of d'yamba that has somehow contaminated this otherwise delightful scene. Its appearance can mean one thing only, that some person connected to the blind man managed to get close enough to Black House to have tasted the poisons of its ferocious guardian. And that in turn means that now the hateful Jack Sawyer undoubtedly knows of the existence of Black House and intends to breach its defenses. It is time to destroy the blind man and return home. Burny registers only an inchoate mixture of hatred and an emotion surprisingly like fear from within his master. Burny feels rage at Henry Leyden's appropriation of his voice, for he knows it represents a threat; even more than this self-protective impulse, he feels a yearning for the simple but profound pleasure of bloodletting. When Henry has been butchered, Charles Burnside wishes to claim one more victim before flying to Black House and entering a realm he thinks of as Sheol. His big, misshapen knuckles rap once more against the glass. Henry turns his head to the window in a flawless imitation of mild surprise. â€Å"I thought someone was out there. Who is it? . . . Come on, speak up.† He toggles a switch and speaks into the mike: â€Å"If you're saying anything, I can't hear you. Give me a second or two to get organized in here, and I'll be right out.† He faces forward again and hunches over his desk. His left hand seems idly to touch his handsome award; his right hand is hidden from sight. Henry appears to be deep in concentration. In reality, he is listening as hard as he ever has in his life. He hears the handle on the studio door revolve clockwise with a marvelous slowness. The door whispers open an inch, two inches, three. The floral, musky scent of My Sin invades the studio, seeming to coat a thin chemical film over the mike, the tape canisters, all the dials, and the back of Henry's deliberately exposed neck. The sole of what sounds like a carpet slipper hushes over the floor. Henry tightens his hands on his weapons and waits for the particular sound that will be his signal. He hears another nearly soundless step, then another, and knows the Fisherman has moved behind him. He carries some weapon of his own, something that cuts through the mist of perfume with the grassy smell of front yards and the smoothness of machine oil. Henry cannot imagine what this is, but the movement of the air tells him it is heavier than a knife. Even a blind man can see that. An awkwardness in the way the Fisherman takes his next oh-so-quiet step suggests to Henry that the old fellow holds this weapon with both of his hands. An image has formed in Henry's mind, that of his adversary standing behind him poised to strike, and to this image he now adds extended, upraised arms. The hands hold an instrument like garden shears. Henry has his own weapons, the best of these being surprise, but the surprise must be well timed to be effective. In fact, if Henry is to avoid a quick and messy death, his timing has to be perfect. He lowers his neck farther over the desk and awaits the signal. His calm surprises him. A man standing unobserved with an object like garden shears or a heavy pair of scissors in his hands behind a seated victim will, before delivering the blow, take a long second to arch his back and reach up, to get a maximum of strength into the downward stroke. As he extends his arms and arches his back, his clothing will shift on his body. Fabric will slide over flesh; one fabric may pull against another; a belt may creak. There will be an intake of breath. An ordinary person would hear few or none of these telltale disturbances, but Henry Leyden can be depended upon to hear them all. Then at last he does. Cloth rubs against skin and rustles against itself; air hisses into Burny's nasal passages. Instantly, Henry shoves his chair backward and in the same movement spins around and swings the award toward his assailant as he stands upright. It works! He feels the force of the blow run down his arm and hears a grunt of shock and pain. The odor of My Sin fills his nostrils. The chair bumps the top of his knees. Henry pushes the button on the switchblade, feels the long blade leap out, and thrusts it forward. The knife punches into flesh. From eight inches before his face comes a scream of outrage. Again, Henry batters the award against his attacker, then yanks the knife free and shoves it home again. Skinny arms tangle around his neck and shoulders, filling him with revulsion, and foul breath washes into his face. He becomes aware that he has been injured, for a pain that is sharp on the surface and dull beneath announces itself on the left side of his back. The goddamn hedge clippers, he thinks and jabs again with the knife. This time, he stabs only empty air. A rough hand closes on his elbow, and another grips his shoulder. The hands pull him forward, and to keep upright he rests his knee on the seat of the chair. A long nose bangs against the bridge of his own nose and jars his sunglasses. What follows fills him with disgust: two rows of teeth like broken clamshells fasten on his left cheek and saw through the skin. Blood sluices down his face. The rows of teeth come together and rip away an oval wedge of Henry's skin, and over the white jolt of pain, which is incredible, worse by far than the pain in his back, he can hear his blood spatter against the old monster's face. Fear and revulsion, along with an amazing amount of adrenaline, give him the strength to lash out with the knife as he s pins away from the man's grip. The blade connects with some moving part of the Fisherman's body an arm, he thinks. Before he can feel anything like satisfaction, he hears the sound of the hedge clippers slicing the air before they bite into his knife hand. It happens almost before he can take it in: the hedge clippers' blades tear through his skin, snap the bones, and sever the last two fingers on his right hand. And then, as if the hedge clippers were the Fisherman's last contact with him, he is free. Henry's foot finds the edge of the door, kicks it aside, and he propels his body through the open space. He lands on a floor so sticky his feet slide when he tries to get up. Can all of that blood be his? The voice he had been studying in another age, another era, comes from the studio door. â€Å"You stabbed me, you asswipe moke.† Henry is not waiting around to listen; Henry is on the move, wishing he did not feel that he was leaving a clear, wide trail of blood behind him. Somehow, he seems to be drenched in the stuff, his shirt is sodden with it, and the back of his legs are wet. Blood continues to gush down his face, and in spite of the adrenaline, Henry can feel his energy dissipating. How much time does he have before he bleeds to death twenty minutes? He slides down the hallway and runs into the living room. I'm not going to get out of this, Henry thinks. I've lost too much blood. But at least I can make it through the door and die outside, where the air is fresh. From the hallway, the Fisherman's voice reaches him. â€Å"I ate part of your cheek, and now I'm going to eat your fingers. Are you listening to me, you moke of an asshole?† Henry makes it to the door. His hand slips and slips on the knob; the knob resists him. He feels for the lock button, which has been depressed. â€Å"I said, are you listening?† The Fisherman is coming closer, and his voice is full of rage. All Henry has to do is push the button that unlocks the door and turn the knob. He could be out of the house in a second, but his remaining fingers will not obey orders. All right, I'm going to die, he says to himself. I'll follow Rhoda, I'll follow my Lark, my beautiful Lark. A sound of chewing, complete with smacking lips and crunching noises. â€Å"You taste like shit. I'm eating your fingers, and they taste like shit. You know what I like? Know my all-time favorite meal? The buttocks of a tender young child. Albert Fish liked that too, oh yes he did. Mmm-mmm! BABY BUTT! That's GOOD EATIN'!† Henry realizes that he has somehow slipped all the way down the unopenable door and is now resting, breathing far too heavily, on his hands and knees. He shoves himself forward and crawls behind the Mission-style sofa, from the comfort of which he had listened to Jack Sawyer reading a great many eloquent words written by Charles Dickens. Among the things he would now never be able to do, he realizes, is find out what finally happens in Bleak House. Another is seeing his friend Jack again. The Fisherman's footsteps enter the living room and stop moving. â€Å"All right, where the fuck are you, asshole? You can't hide from me.† The hedge clippers' blades go snick-snick. Either the Fisherman has grown as blind as Henry, or the room is too dark for vision. A little bit of hope, a match flame, flares in Henry's soul. Maybe his adversary will not be able to see the light switches. â€Å"Asshole!† Ahzz-hill. â€Å"Damn it, where are you hiding?† Dahmmut, vhey ah you high-dung? This is fascinating, Henry thinks. The more angry and frustrated the Fisherman gets, the more his accent melts into that weird non-German. It isn't the South Side of Chicago anymore, but neither is it anything else. It certainly isn't German, not really. If Henry had heard Dr. Spiegleman's description of this accent as that of a Frenchman trying to speak English like a German, he would have nodded in smiling agreement. It's like some kind of outer space German accent, like something that mutated toward German without ever having heard it. â€Å"You hurt me, you stinking pig!† You huhht me, you steenk-ung peek! The Fisherman lurches toward the easy chair and shoves it over on its side. In his Chicago voice, he says, â€Å"I'm gonna find you, buddy, and when I do, I'll cut your fucking head off.† A lamp hits the floor. The slippered footsteps move heavily toward the right side of the room. â€Å"A blind guy hides in the dark, huh? Oh, that's cute, that's really cute. Lemme tell you something. I haven't tasted a tongue in a while, but I think I'll try yours.† A small table and the lamp atop it clunk and crash to the floor. â€Å"I got some information for you. Tongues are funny. An old guy's doesn't taste much different from a young fella's though of course the tongue on a kid is twice as good as both. Venn I vas Fridz Hahhmun I ade munny dungs, ha ha.† Strange that extraterrestrial version of a German accent bursts out of the Fisherman like a second voice. A fist strikes the wall, and the footsteps plod nearer. Using his elbows, Henry crawls around the far end of the sofa and squirms toward the shelter of a long, low table. The footsteps squish in blood, and when Henry rests his head on his hands, warm blood pumps out against his face. The fiery agony in his fingers almost swallows the pain in his cheek and his back. â€Å"You can't hide forever,† the Fisherman says. Immediately, he switches to the weird accent and replies, â€Å"Eenuff ov dis, Burn-Burn. Vee huv murr impurdund vurk zu do.† â€Å"Hey, you're the one who called him an ahzz-hill. He hurt me!† â€Å"Fogzes down fogzhulls, oho, radz in radhulls, dey too ahh huhht. My boor loss babbies ahh huhht, aha, vurze vurze vurze dan uz.† â€Å"But what about him?† â€Å"Hee iz bledding zu deff, bledding zu deff, aha. Led hum dy.† In the darkness, we can just make out what is happening. Charles Burnside appears to be performing an eerie imitation of the two heads of Parkus's parrot, Sacred and Profane. When he speaks in his own voice, he turns his head to the left; when speaking with the accent of an extraterrestrial, he looks to his right. Watching his head swivel back and forth, we might be watching a comic actor like Jim Carrey or Steve Martin pretending to be the two halves of a split personality except that this man is not funny. Both of his personalities are awful, and their voices hurt our ears. The greatest difference between them is that left-head, the guttural extraterrestrial, runs the show: his hands hold the wheel of the other's vehicle, and right-head our Burny is essentially a slave. Since the difference between them has become so clear, we begin to get the impression that it will not be long before Mr. Munshun peels off Charles Burnside and discards him like a worn-out sock. â€Å"But I WANT to kill him!† Burny screeches. â€Å"Hee iz alreddy dud, dud, dud. Chack Zawyuh's hardt iz go-ung do break. Chack Zawyuh vill nod know whud he iz do-ung. Vee go now du Muxtun'z and oho vee kull Chibbuh, yuzz? You vahhnd kull Chibbuh I ding, yuzz?† Burny snickers. â€Å"Yeah. I vahhnd to kill Chipper. I vahhnd to slice that asshole into little pieces and chew on his bones. And if his snippy bitch is there, I want to cut off her head and suck her juicy little tongue down my throat.† To Henry Leyden, this conversation sounds like insanity, demonic possession, or both. Blood continues to stream out of his back and from the ends of his mutilated fingers, and he is powerless to stop the flow. The smell of all the blood beneath and around him makes him feel nauseated, but nausea is the least of his problems. A light-headed sense of drift, of pleasing numbness that is his real problem, and his best weapon against it is his own pain. He must remain conscious. Somehow, he must leave a message for Jack. â€Å"Zo vee go now, Burn-Burn, and vee hahhv ah blesh-ah vid Chibbuh, yuzz? End denn . . . oho end denn, denn, denn vee go do de beeyoodiful bee-yoodiful Blagg Huzz, my Burn-Burn, end in Blagg Huzz vee mayyg reddy for de Grimsunn Ging!† â€Å"I want to meet the Crimson King,† Burny says. A rope of drool sags from his mouth, and for an instant his eyes gleam in the darkness. â€Å"I'm gonna give the Marshall brat to the Crimson King, and the Crimson King is gonna love me, because all I'm gonna eat is like one little ass cheek, one little hand, something like that.† â€Å"Hee vill lahhv you fuhr my zake, Burn-Burn, fuhr de Ging lahhvs mee bezzd, mee, mee, mee, Mizz-durr Munn-shunn! End venn de Ging roolz sooprumm, fogzes down fogzhulls veep and veep, dey gryy, gryy, gryy dere lid-dul hardz utt, on-cuzz you end mee, mee, mee, vee vull eed end eed end eed, eed, eed undill de vurrldz on all zydes are nudding bahd embdy bee-nudd shillz!† â€Å"Empty peanut shells.† Burny chuckles, and noisily retracts another rope of slobber. â€Å"That's a hell of a lot of eatin'.† Any second now, Henry thinks, horrible old Burn-Burn is going to fork over a substantial down payment on the Brooklyn Bridge. â€Å"Gumm.† â€Å"I'm coming,† says Burnside. â€Å"First I want to leave a message.† There is a silence. The next thing Henry hears is a curious whooshing sound and the joined smack-smacks of sodden footwear parting from a sticky floor. The door to the closet beneath the stairs bangs open; the studio door bangs shut. A smell of ozone comes and goes. They have gone; Henry does not know how it happened, but he feels certain that he is alone. Who cares how it happened? Henry has more important matters to think about. â€Å"Murr impurdund vurk,† he says aloud. â€Å"That guy's a German like I'm a speckled hen.† He crawls out from beneath the long table and uses its surface to lever himself up on his feet. When he straightens his back, his mind wobbles and goes gray, and he grasps a lampstand to stay upright. â€Å"Don't pass out,† he says. â€Å"Passing out is not allowed, nope.† Henry can walk, he is sure of it. He's been walking most of his life, after all. Come to that, he can drive a car, too; driving is even easier than walking, only no one ever had the cojones to let him demonstrate his talents behind the wheel. Hell, if Ray Charles could drive and he could, he can, Ray Charles is probably spinning into a left turn off the highway at this moment why not Henry Leyden? Well, Henry does not happen to have an automobile available to him right now, so Henry is going to have to settle for taking a brisk walk. Well, as brisk as possible anyhow. And where is Henry going on this delightful stroll through the blood-soaked living room? â€Å"Why,† he answers himself, â€Å"the answer is obvious. I am going to my studio. I feel like taking a stroll into my lovely little studio.† His mind slides into gray once more, and gray is to be avoided. We have an antidote for the gray feeling, don't we? Yes, we do: the antidote is a good sharp taste of pain. Henry slaps his good hand against the stumps of his severed fingers whoo boy, yes indeed, whole arm sort of went up in flames there. Flaming arm, that will work. Sparks shooting white hot from burning fingers will get us to the studio. Let those tears flow. Dead folks don't cry. â€Å"The smell of blood is like laughter,† Henry says. â€Å"Who said that? Somebody. It's in a book. ? ®The smell of blood was like laughter.' Great line. Now put one foot in front of the other.† When he reaches the short hallway to the studio, he leans against the wall for a moment. A wave of luxurious weariness begins at the center of his chest and laps through his body. He snaps his head up, blood from his torn cheek spattering the wall. â€Å"Keep talking, you dope. Talking to yourself isn't crazy. It's a wonderful thing to do. And guess what? It's how you make your living you talk to yourself all day long!† Henry pushes himself off the wall, steps forward, and George Rath-bun speaks through his vocal cords. â€Å"Friends, and you ARE my friends, let me be clear about that, we here at KDCU-AM seem to be experiencing some technical difficulties. The power levels are sinking, and brownouts have been recorded, yes they have. Fear not, my dear ones. Fear not! Even as I speak, we are but four paltry feet from the studio door, and in no time at all, we shall be up and running, yessir. No ancient cannibal and his space-alien sidekick can put this station out of business, uh-UHH, not before we make our last and final broadcast.† It is as if George Rathbun gives life to Henry Leyden, instead of the other way around. His back is straighter, and he holds his head upright. Two steps bring him to the closed studio door. â€Å"It's a tough catch, my friends, and if Pokey Reese is going to snag that ball, his mitt had better be clean as a whistle. What is he doing out there, folks? Can we believe our eyes? Can he be shoving one hand into his pants pocket? Is he pulling something out? Man oh man, it causes the mind to reel Pokey is using THE OLD HANDKERCHIEF PLOY! That's right! He is WIPING his mitt, WIPING his throwing hand, DROPPING the snotrag, GRABBING the handle And the door is OPEN! Pokey Reese has done it again, he is IN THE STUDIO!† Henry winds the handkerchief around the ends of his fingers and fumbles for the chair. â€Å"And Rafael Furcal seems lost out there, the man is GROPING for the ball Wait, wait, does he have it? Has he caught an edge? YES! He has the ARM of the ball, he has the BACK of the ball, and he pulls it UP, ladies and gents, the ball is UP on its WHEELS! Furcal sits down, he pushes himself toward the console. We're facing a lot of blood here, but baseball is a bloody game when they come at you with their CLEATS up.† With the fingers of his left hand, from which most of the blood has been cleaned, Henry punches the ON switch for the big tape recorder and pulls the microphone close. He is sitting in the dark listening to the sound of tape hissing from reel to reel, and he feels oddly satisfied to be here, doing what he has done night after night for thousands of nights. Velvety exhaustion swims through his body and his mind, darkening whatever it touches. It is too early to yield. He will surrender soon, but first he must do his job. He must talk to Jack Sawyer by talking to himself, and to do that he calls upon the familiar spirits that give him voice. George Rathbun: â€Å"Bottom of the ninth, and the home team is headed for the showers, pal. But the game ain't OVER till the last BLIND man is DEAD!† Henry Shake: â€Å"I'm talking to you, Jack Sawyer, and I don't want you to flip out on me or nothin'. Keep cool and listen to your old friend Henry the Sheik the Shake the Shook, all right? The Fisherman paid me a visit, and when he left here he was on his way to Maxton's. He wants to kill Chipper, the guy who owns the place. Call the police, save him if you can. The Fisherman lives at Maxton's, did you know that? He's an old man with a demon inside him. He wanted to stop me from telling you that I recognized his voice. And he wanted to mess with your feelings he thinks he can screw you up by killing me. Don't give him that satisfaction, all right?† The Wisconsin Rat: â€Å"BECAUSE THAT WOULD REALLY SUCK! FISH-BRAINS WILL BE WAITING FOR YOU IN A PLACE CALLED BLACK HOUSE, AND YOU HAVE TO BE READY FOR THE BASTARD! RIP HIS NUTS OFF!† The Rat's buzz-saw voice ends in a fit of coughing. Henry Shake, breathing hard: â€Å"Our friend the Rat was suddenly called away. The boy has a tendency to get overexcited.† George Rathbun: â€Å"SON, are you trying to tell ME that â€Å" Henry Shake: â€Å"Calm down. Yes, he has a right to be excited. But Jack doesn't want us to scream at him. Jack wants information.† George Rathbun: â€Å"I reckon you better hurry up and give it to him, then.† Henry Shake: â€Å"This is the deal, Jack. The Fisherman's not very bright, and neither is his whatever, his demon, who's called something like Mr. Munching. He's incredibly vain, too.† Henry Leyden folds back into the chair and stares at nothing for a second or two. He can feel nothing from the waist down, and blood from his right hand has pooled around the microphone. From the stumps of his fingers comes a steady, diminishing pulse. George Rathbun: â€Å"Not now, Chuckles!† Henry Leyden shakes his head and says, â€Å"Vain and stupid you can beat, my friend. I have to sign off now. Jack, you don't have to feel too bad about me. I had a goddamn wonderful life, and I'm going to be with my darling Rhoda now.† He smiles in the darkness; his smile widens. â€Å"Ah, Lark. Hello.† At times, it is possible for the smell of blood to be like laughter. What is this, at the end of Nailhouse Row? A horde, a swarm of fat, buzzing things that circle and dart about Jack Sawyer, in the dying light seeming almost illuminated, like the radiant pages of a sacred text. Too small to be hummingbirds, they seem to carry their own individual, internal glow as they mesh through the air. If they are wasps, Jack Sawyer is going to be in serious trouble. Yet they do not sting; their round bodies brush his face and hands, blundering softly against his body as a cat will nudge its owner's leg, both giving and receiving comfort. At present, they give much more comfort than they receive, and even Jack cannot explain why this should be so. The creatures surrounding him are not wasps, hummingbirds, or cats, but they are bees, honeybees, and ordinarily he would be frightened to be caught in a swarm of bees. Especially if they appeared to be members of a sort of master bee race, superbees, larger than any he has seen before, their golds more golden, their blacks vibrantly black. Yet Jack is not frightened. If they were going to sting him, they would already have done it. And from the first, he understood that they meant him no harm. The touch of their many bodies is surpassingly smooth and soft; their massed buzzing is low and harmonious, as peaceable as a Protestant hymn. After the first few seconds, Jack simply lets it happen. The bees sift even closer, and their low noise pulses in his ears. It sounds like speech, or like song. For a moment, all he can see is a tightly woven network of bees moving this way and that; then the bees settle everywhere on his body but the oval of his face. They cover his head like a helmet. They blanket his arms, his chest, his back, his legs. Bees land on his shoes and obscure them from view. Despite their number, they are almost weightless. The exposed parts of Jack's body, his hands and neck, feel as though wrapped in cashmere. A dense, feather-light bee suit shimmers black and gold all over Jack Sawyer. He raises his arms, and the bees move with him. Jack has seen photographs of beekeepers aswarm with bees, but this is no photograph and he is no beekeeper. His amazement really, his sheer pleasure in the unexpectedness of this visitation stuns him. For as long as the bees cling to him, he forgets Mouse's terrible death and the next day's fearsome task. What he does not forget is Sophie; he wishes Beezer and Doc would walk outside, so they could see what is happening, but more than that, he wishes Sophie could see it. Perhaps, by grace of d'yamba, she does. Someone is comforting Jack Sawyer, someone is wishing him well. A loving, invisible presence offers him support. It feels like a blessing, that support. Clothed in his glowing black-and-yellow bee suit, Jack has the idea that if he stepped toward the sky, he would be airborne. The bees would carry him over the valleys. They would carry him over the wrinkled hills. Like the winged men in the Territories who carried Sophie, he would fly. Instead of their two, he would have two t housand wings to bear him up. In our world, Jack remembers, bees return to the hive before nightfall. As if reminded of their daily routine, the bees lift from Jack's head, his trunk, his arms and legs, not en masse, like a living carpet, but individually and in parties of five and six, wander a short distance above him, then swirl around, shoot like bullets eastward over the houses on the inland side of Nailhouse Row, and disappear one and all into the same dark infinity. Jack becomes aware of their sound only when it disappears with them. In the seconds before he can once again begin moving toward his truck, he has the feeling that someone is watching over him. He has been . . . what? It comes to him as he turns his key in the Ram's ignition and flutters the gas pedal: he has been embraced. Jack has no idea how much he will need the warmth of that embrace, nor of the manner in which it shall be returned to him, during the coming night. First of all, he is exhausted. He has had the kind of day that should end in a surreal event like an embrace by a swarm of bees: Sophie, Wendell Green, Judy Marshall, Parkus that cataclysm, that deluge! and the strange death of Mouse Baumann, these things have stretched him taut, left him gasping. His body aches for rest. When he leaves French Landing and drives into the wide, dark countryside, he is tempted to pull over to the side of the road and catch a half-hour nap. The deepening night promises the refreshment of sleep, and that is the problem: he could wind up sleeping in the truck all night, which would leave him feeling bleary and arthritic on a day when he must be at his best. Right now, he is not at his best not by a longshot, as his father, Phil Sawyer, used to say. Right now he is running on fumes, another of Phil Sawyer's pet expressions, but he figures that he can stay awake long enough to visit Henry Leyden. Maybe Henry cut a deal with the guy from ESPN maybe Henry will move into a wider market and make a lot more money. Henry in no way needs any more money than he has, for Henry's life seems flawless, but Jack likes the idea of his dear friend Henry suddenly flush with cash. A Henry with extra money to throw around is a Henry Jack would love to see. Imagine the wondrous clothes he could afford! Jack pictures going to New York with him, staying in a nice hotel like the Carlyle or the St. Regis, walking him through half a dozen great men's stores, helping him pick out whatever he wants. Just about everything looks good on Henry. He seems to improve all the clothes he wears, no matter what they are, but he has definite, particular tastes. Henry likes a certain classic, even old-fashioned, stylishness. He often dresses himself in pinstripes, windowpane plaids, herringbone tweeds. He likes cotton, linen, and wool. He sometimes wears bow ties, ascots, and little handkerchiefs that puff out of his breast pocket. On his feet, he puts penny loafers, wing tips, cap toes, and low boots of soft, fine leather. He never wears sneakers or jeans, and Jack has never seen him in a T-shirt that has writing on it. The question was, how did a man blind from birth evolve such a specific taste in clothing? Oh, Jack realizes, it was his mother. Of course. He got his taste from his mother. For some reason, this recognition threatens to bring tears to Jack's eyes. I get too emotional when I get this tired, he says to himself. Watch out, or you'll go overboard. But diagnosing a problem is not the same as fixing it, and he cannot follow his own advice. That Henry Leyden all of his life should have held to his mother's ideas about men's clothing strikes Jack as beautiful and moving. It implies a kind of loyalty he admires unspoken loyalty. Henry probably got a lot from his mother: his quick-wittedness, his love of music, his levelheadedness, his utter lack of self-pity. Levelheadedness and lack of self-pity are a great combination, Jack thinks; they go a long way toward defining courage. For Henry is courageous, Jack reminds himself. Henry is damn near fearless. It's funny, how he talks about being able to drive a car, but Jack feels certain that, if allowed, his friend would unhesitatingly jump behind the wheel of the nearest Chrysler, start the engine, and take off for the highway. He would not exult or show off, such behavior being foreign to his nature; Henry would nod toward the windshield and say things like, â€Å"Looks like the corn is nice and tall for this time of year,† and â€Å"I'm glad Duane finally got around to painting his house.† And the corn would be tall, and Duane Updahl would have recently painted his house, information delivered to Henry by his mysterious sensory systems. Jack decides that if he makes it out of Black House alive, he will give Henry the opportunity to take the Ram out for a spin. They might wind up nose-down in a ditch, but it will be worth it for the expression on Henry's face. Some Saturday afternoon, he'll get Henry out on Highway 93 and let him drive to the Sand Bar. If Beezer and Doc do not get savaged by weredogs and survive their journey to Black House, they ought to have the chance to enjoy Henry's conversation, which, odd as it seems, is perfectly suited to theirs. Beezer and Doc should know Henry Leyden, they'd love the guy. After a couple of weeks, they'd have him up on a Harley, swooping toward Norway Valley from Centralia. If only Henry could come with them to Black House. The thought pierces Jack with the sadness of an inspired idea that can never be put into practice. Henry would be brave and unfaltering, Jack knows, but what he most likes about the idea is that he and Henry would ever after be able to talk about what they had done. Those talks the two of them, in one living room or another, snow piling on the roof would be wonderful, but Jack cannot endanger Henry that way. â€Å"That's a stupid thing to think about,† Jack says aloud, and realizes that he regrets not having been completely open and unguarded with Henry that's where the stupid worry comes from, his stubborn silence. It isn't what he will be unable to say in the future; it's what he failed to say in the past. He should have been honest with Henry from the start. He should have told him about the red feathers and the robins' eggs and his gathering uneasiness. Henry would have helped him open his eyes; he would have helped Jack resolve his own blindness, which was more damaging than Henry's. All of that is over, Jack decides. No more secrets. Since he is lucky enough to have Henry's friendship, he will demonstrate that he values it. From now on, he will tell Henry everything, including the background: the Territories, Speedy Parker, the dead man on the Santa Monica Pier, Tyler Marshall's baseball cap. Judy Marshall. Sophie. Yes, he has to tell Henry about Sophie how can he not have done so already? Henry will rejoice with him, and Jack cannot wait to see how he does it. Henry's rejoicing will be unlike anyone else's; Henry will impart some delicate, cool, good-hearted topspin to the expression of his delight, thereby increasing Jack's own delight. What an incredible, literally incredible friend! If you were to describe Henry to someone who had never met him, he would sound unbelievable. Someone like that, living alone in an outback of the boonies? But there he was, all alone in the entirely obscure area of Norway Valley, French County, Wisconsin, waiting for the latest installment of Bleak House. By now, in anticipation of Jack's arrival, he would have turned on the lights in his kitchen and living room, as he had done for years in honor of his dead, much-loved wife. Jack thinks: I must not be so bad, if I have a friend like that. And he thinks: I really adore Henry. Now, even in the darkness, everything seems beautiful to him. The Sand Bar, ablaze with neon lights in its vast expanse of parking lot; the spindly, intermittent trees picked out by his headlights after the turn onto 93; the long, invisible fields; the glowing light bulbs hung like Christmas decorations from the porch of Roy's Store. The rattle over the first bridge and the sharp turn into the depths of the valley. Set back from the left side of the road, the first of the farmhouses gleam in the darkness, the lights in their windows burning like sacramental candles. Everything seems touched by a higher meaning, everything seems to speak. He is traveling, within a hush of sacred silence, through a sacred grove. Jack remembers when Dale first drove him into this valley, and that memory is sacred, too. Jack does not know it, but tears are coursing down his cheeks. His blood sings in his veins. The pale farmhouses shine half-hidden by the darkness, and out of that darkness leans the stand of tiger lilies that greeted him on his first down-valley journey. The tiger lilies blaze in his headlights, then slip murmuring behind him. Their lost speech joins the speech of the tires rolling eagerly, gently toward Henry Leyden's warm house. Tomorrow he may die, Jack knows, and this may be the last night he will ever see. That he must win does not mean that he will win; proud empires and noble epochs have gone down in defeat, and the Crimson King may burst out of the Tower and rage through world after world, spreading chaos. They could all die in Black House: he, Beezer, and Doc. If that happens, Tyler Marshall will be not only a Breaker, a slave chained to an oar in a timeless Purgatory, but a super-Breaker, a nuclear-powered Breaker the abbalah will use to turn all the worlds into furnaces filled with burning corpses. Over my dead body, Jack thinks, and laughs a little crazily it's so literal! What an extraordinary moment; he is laughing while he rubs tears off his face. The paradox suddenly makes him feel as though he is being torn in half. Beauty and terror, beauty and pain there is no way out of the conundrum. Exhausted, strung out, Jack cannot hold off his awareness of the world's essential fragility, its constant, unstoppable movement toward death, or the deeper awareness that in that movement lies the source of all its meaning. Do you see all this heart-stopping beauty? Look closely, because in a moment your heart will stop. In the next second, he remembers the swarm of golden bees that descended upon him: it was against this that they comforted him, exactly this, he tells himself. The blessing of blessings that vanish. What you love, you must love all the harder because someday it will be gone. It felt true, but it did not feel like all of the truth. Against the vastness of the night, he sees the giant shape of the Crimson King holding aloft a small boy to use as a burning glass that will ignite the worlds into flaming waste. What Parkus said was right: he cannot destroy the giant, but he may find it possible to rescue the boy. The bees said: Save Ty Marshall. The bees said: Love Henry Leyden. The bees said: Love Sophie. That is close enough, right enough, for Jack. To the bees, these were all the same sentence. He supposes that the bees might well also have said, Do your job, coppiceman, and that sentence was only slightly different. Well, he would do his job, all right. After having been given such a miracle, he could do nothing else. His heart warms as he turns up Henry's drive. What was Henry but another kind of miracle? Tonight, Jack gleefully resolves, he is going to give the amazing Henry Leyden a thrill he will never forget. Tonight, he will tell Henry the whole story, the entire long tale of the journey he took in his twelfth year: the Blasted Lands, Rational Richard, the Agincourt, and the Talisman. He will not leave out the Oatley Tap and the Sunlight Home, for these travails will get Henry wonderfully worked up. And Wolf! Henry is going to be crazy about Wolf; Wolf will tickle him right down to the soles of his chocolate-brown suede loafers. As Jack speaks, every word he says will be an apology for having been silent for so long. And when he has finished telling the whole story, telling it at least as well as he can, the world, this world, will have been transformed, for one person in it besides himself will know everything that happened. Jack can barely imagine what it will feel like to have the dam of his loneliness so obliterated, so destroyed, but the very thought of it floods him with the anticipation of relief. Now, this is strange . . . Henry has not turned on his lights, and his house looks dark and empty. He must have fallen asleep. Smiling, Jack turns off the engine and gets out of the pickup's cab. Experience tells him that he won't get more than three paces into the living room before Henry rouses himself and pretends that he has been awake all along. Once, when Jack found him in the dark like this, he said, â€Å"I was just resting my eyes.† So what is it going to be tonight? He was planning his Lester Young?CCharlie Parker birthday tribute, and he found it easier to concentrate this way? He was thinking about frying up some fish, and he wanted to see if food tasted different if you cooked it in the dark? Whatever it is, it'll be entertaining. And maybe they will celebrate Henry's new deal with ESPN! â€Å"Henry?† Jack raps on the door, then opens it and leans in. â€Å"Henry, you faker, are you asleep?† Henry does not respond, and Jack's question falls into a soundless void. He can see nothing. The room is a two-dimensional pane of blackness. â€Å"Hey, Henry, I'm here. And boy, do I have a story for you!† More dead silence. â€Å"Huh,† Jack says, and steps inside. Immediately, his instincts scream that he should get out, take off, scram. But why should he feel that? This is just Henry's house, that's all; he has been inside it hundreds of times before, and he knows Henry has either fallen asleep on his sofa or walked over to Jack's house, which come to think of it is probably exactly what happened. Henry got a terrific offer from the ESPN representative, and in his excitement for even Henry Leyden can get excited, you just have to look a little closer than you do with most people decided to surprise Jack at his house. When Jack failed to arrive by five or six, he decided to wait for him. And right now, he is probably sound asleep on Jack's sofa, instead of his own. All of this is plausible, but it does not alter the message blasting from Jack's nerve endings. Go! Leave! You don't want to be here! He calls Henry's name again, and his response is the silence he expects. The transcendent mood that had carried him down the valley has already disappeared, but he never noted its passing, merely that it is a thing of the past. If he were still a homicide detective, this is the moment when he would unholster his weapon. Jack steps quietly into the living room. Two strong odors come to him. One is the scent of perfume, and the other . . . He knows what the other one is. Its presence here means that Henry is dead. The part of Jack that is not a cop argues that the smell of blood means no such thing. Henry may have been wounded in a fight, and the Fisherman could have taken him across worlds, as he did with Tyler Marshall. Henry may be trussed up in some pocket of the Territories, salted away to be used as a bargaining chip, or as bait. He and Ty might be side by side, waiting for rescue. Jack knows that none of this is true. Henry is dead, and the Fisherman killed him. It is his job now to find the body. He's a coppiceman; he has to act like one. That the last thing in the world he wants to do is look at Henry's corpse does not change the nature of his task. Sorrow comes in many forms, but the kind of sorrow that has been building within Jack Sawyer feels as if it is made of granite. It slows his step and clenches his jaw. When he moves to his left and reaches for the light switch, this stony sorrow directs his hand to the right spot on the wall as surely as if he were Henry. Because he is looking at the wall when the lights go on, only his peripheral vision takes in the interior of the room, and the damage does not seem as extensive as he had feared. A lamp has been toppled, a chair knocked over. But when Jack turns his head, two aspects of Henry's living room sear themselves onto his retinas. The first is a red slogan on the cream-colored opposite wall; the second, the sheer amount of blood on the floor. The bloodstains are like a map of Henry's progress into and back out of the room. Gouts of blood like those left by a wounded animal begin at the hallway and trail, accompanied by many loops and spatters, to the back of the Mission sofa, where blood lies pooled. Another large pool covers the hardwood floor beneath the long, low table where Henry sometimes used to park his portable CD player and stack the evening's CDs. From the table, another series of splashes and gouts lead back into the hallway. To Jack, it looks as though Henry must have been very l ow on blood when he felt safe enough to crawl out from under the table. If that is the way it went. While Henry lay dead or dying, the Fisherman had taken something made of cloth his shirt? a handkerchief ? and used it like a fat, unwieldy paintbrush. He had dipped it in the blood behind the sofa, raised it dripping to the wall, and daubed a few letters. Then he'd repeated and repeated the action until he had wiped the last letter of his message onto the wall. HELLO HOLLYWOOD CUM GET MEE CK CK CK CK But the Crimson King had not written the taunting initials, and neither had Charles Burnside. They had been daubed on the wall by the Fisherman's master, whose name, in our ears, sounds like Mr. Munshun. Don't worry, I'll come for you soon enough, Jack thinks. At this point, he could not be criticized for walking outside, where the air does not reek of blood and perfume, and using his cell phone to call Sumner Street. Maybe Bobby Dulac is on duty. He might even find Dale still at the station. To fulfill all of his civic obligations, he need speak only eight or nine words. After that, he could pocket the cell phone and sit on Henry's front steps until the guardians of law and order come barreling up the long drive. There would be a lot of them, at least four cars, maybe five. Dale would have to call the troopers, and Brown and Black might feel obliged to call the FBI. In about forty-five minutes, Henry's living room would be crowded with men taking measurements, writing in their notebooks, setting down evidence tags, and photographing bloodstains. There would be the M.E. and the evidence wagon. And when the first stage of everybody's various jobs came to an end, two men in white jackets would carry a stretcher through the front door and loa d the stretcher into whatever the hell they were driving. Jack does not consider this option for much longer than a couple of seconds. He wants to see what the Fisherman and Mr. Munshun did to Henry he has to see it, he has no choice. His grim sorrow demands it, and if he does not obey his sorrow's commands, he will never feel quite whole again. His sorrow, which is closed like a steel vault around his love for Henry Leyden, drives him deeper into the room. Jack moves slowly, picking his way forward the way a man crossing a stream moves from rock to rock. He is looking for the bare places where he can set his feet. From across the room, dripping red letters eight inches high mock his progress. HELLO HOLLYWOOD It seems to wink on and off, like a neon sign. HELLO HOLLYWOOD HELLO HOLLYWOOD. CUM GET MEE CUM GET MEE He wants to curse, but the weight of his sorrow will not permit him to utter the words that float into his mind. At the end of the hallway to the studio and the kitchen, Jack steps over a long smear of blood and turns his back on the living room and the distracting flashes of neon. The light penetrates only three or four feet into the hallway. The kitchen is solid, featureless darkness. The studio door hangs half open, and reflected light shines softly in its window. Blood lies spattered and smeared everywhere on the floor of the hallway. He can no longer avoid stepping in it but moves down the hallway with his eyes on the gaping studio door. Henry Leyden never left this door yawning into the little corridor;he kept it closed. Henry was neat. He had to be: if he left the studio door hanging open, he would walk right into it the next time he went to the kitchen. The mess, the disorder left in his wake by Henry's murderer disturbs Jack more than he wishes to admit, maybe even more than he recognizes. This messiness represents a true violation, and, on his friend's behalf, Jack hugely resents it. He reaches the door, touches it, opens it wider. A concentrated stench of perfume and blood hangs in the air. Nearly as dark as the kitchen, the studio offers Jack only the dim shape of the console and the murky rectangles of the speakers fixed to the wall. The window into the kitchen hovers like a black sheet, invisible. His hand still on the door, Jack moves nearer and sees, or thinks he sees, the back of a tall chair and a shape stretched over the desk in front of the console. Only then does he hear the whup-whup-whup of tape hitting the end of a reel. â€Å"Ohmygod,† Jack says, all in one word, as if he had all along not been expecting something precisely like what is before him. With a terrible, insistent certainty, the sound of the tape drives home the fact that Henry is dead. Jack's sorrow overrides his chickenhearted desire to go outside and call every cop in the state of Wisconsin by compelling him to grope for the light switch. He cannot leave; he must witness, as he did with Irma Freneau. His fingers brush against the down-ticked plastic switch and settle on it. Into the back of his throat rises a sour, brassy taste. He flicks the switch up, and light floods the studio. Henry's body leans out of the tall leather chair and over the desk, his hands on either side of his prize microphone, his face flattened on its left side. He is still wearing his dark glasses, but one of the thin metal bows is bent. At first, everything seems to have been painted red, for the nearly uniform coat of blood covering the desk has been dripping onto Henry's lap and the tops of his thighs for some time, and all the equipment has been sprayed with red. Part of Henry's cheek has been bitten off. He is missing two fingers from his right hand. To Jack's eyes, which have been taking an inventory as they register all the details of the room, most of Henry's blood loss came from a wound in his back. Blood-soaked clothing conceals the injury, but as much blood lies pooled, dripping, at the back of the chair as covers the desk. Most of the blood on the floor came from the chair. The Fisherman must have sliced an internal organ, or severed an artery. Very little blood, apart from a fine mist over the controls, has hit the tape recorder. Jack can hardly remember how these machines work, but he has seen Henry change reels often enough to have a sense of what to do. He turns the recorder off and threads the end of the tape into the empty reel. Then he turns the machine on and pushes REWIND. The tape glides smoothly over the heads, spooling from one reel to the other. â€Å"Did you make a tape for me, Henry?† Jack asks. â€Å"I bet you did, but I hope you didn't die telling me what I already know.† The tape clicks to a stop. Jack pushes PLAY and holds his breath. In all his bull-necked, red-faced glory, George Rathbun booms from the speakers. â€Å"Bottom of the ninth, and the home team is headed for the showers, pal. But the game ain't OVER till the last BLIND man is DEAD!† Jack sags against the wall. Henry Shake enters the room and tells him to call Maxton's. The Wisconsin Rat sticks his head in and screams about Black House. The Sheik the Shake the Shook and George Rathbun have a short debate, which the Shake wins. It is too much for Jack; he cannot stop his tears, and he does not bother to try. He lets them come. Henry's last performance moves him enormously. It is so bountiful, so pure so purely Henry. Henry Leyden kept himself alive by calling on his alternate selves, and they did the job. They were a faithful crew, George and the Shake and the Rat, and they went down with the ship, not that they had much choice. Henry Leyden reappears, and in a voice that grows fainter with each phrase, says that Jack can beat vain and stupid. Henry's dying voice says he had a wonderful life. His voice drops to a whisper and utters three words filled to the brim with gratified surprise: Ah, Lark. Hello. Jack can hear the smile in those words. Weeping, Jack staggers out of the studio. He wants to collapse into a chair and cry until he has no more tears, but he cannot fail either himself or Henry so greatly. He moves down the hallway, wipes his eyes, and waits for the stony sorrow to help him deal with his grief. It will help him deal with Black House, too. The sorrow is not to be deterred or deflected; it works like steel in his spine. The ghost of Henry Shake whispers: Jack, this sorrow is never going to leave you. Are you down with that? Wouldn't have it any other way. Just as long as you know. Wherever you go, whatever you do. Through every door. With every woman. If you have children, with your children. You'll hear it in all the music you listen to, you'll see it in every book you read. It will be part of the food you eat. With you forever. In all the worlds. In Black House. I am it, and it is me. George Rathbun's whisper is twice as loud as the Sheik the Shake the Shook's: Well, damnit, son, can I hear you say D'YAMBA? D'yamba. I reckon now you know why the bees embraced you. Don't you have a telephone call to make? Yes, he does. But he cannot bear to be in this blood-soaked house any longer; he needs to be out in the warm summer night. Letting his feet land where they may, Jack walks across the ruined living room and passes through the doorway. His sorrow walks with him, for he is it and it is he. The enormous sky hangs far above him, pierced with stars. Out comes the trusty cell phone. And who answers the telephone at the French Landing Police Station? Arnold â€Å"Flashlight† Hrabowski, of course, with a new nickname and just reinstated as a member of the force. Jack's news puts Flashlight Hrabowski in a state of high agitation. What? Gosh! Oh, no. Oh, who woulda believed it? Gee. Yeah, yessir. I'll take care of that right away, you bet. So while the former Mad Hungarian tries to keep both his hands and voice from trembling as he dials the chief's home number and passes on Jack's two-sided message, Jack himself wanders away from the house, away from the drive and his pickup truck, away from anything that reminds him of human beings, and into a meadow filled with high, yellow-green grasses. His sorrow leads him, for his sorrow knows better than he what he needs. Above all, he needs rest. Sleep, if sleep is possible. A soft spot on level ground far from the coming uproar of red lights and sirens and furious, hyperactive policemen. Far from all that desperation. A place where a man can lay his head and get a representative view of the local heavens. Half a mile down the fields, Jack comes to such a place between a cornfield and the rocky beginnings of the wooded hills. His sorrowing mind tells his sorrowing, exhausted body to lie down and make itself comfortable, and his body obeys. Overhead, the stars seem to vibrate and blur, though of course real stars in the familiar, real heavens do not act that way, so it must be an optical illusion. Jack's body stretches out, and the pad of grass and topsoil beneath his body seems to adjust itself around him, although this, too, must be an illusion, for everyone knows that in real life, the actual ground tends to be obdurate, inflexible, and stony. Jack Sawyer's sorrowing mind tells his sorrowing ache o f a body to fall asleep, and impossible as it may seem, fall asleep it does. Within minutes, Jack Sawyer's sleeping body undergoes a subtle transformation. Its edges seem to soften, its colors his wheaten hair, his light tan jacket, his soft brown shoes grow paler. An odd translucency, a mistiness or cloudiness, enters the process. It is as if we can peer through the cloudy, indistinct mass of his slow-breathing body to see the soft, crushed blades of grass that form its mattress. The longer we peer, the more clearly we can take in the grass beneath him, for his body is getting vaguer and vaguer. At last it is only a shimmer over the grass, and by the time the Jack-shaped pad of green has again straightened itself, the body that shaped it is long gone.