slr_europa@yahoo.com
http://www.geocities.com/slr_europa/
AIM :: ropachan
****************************************************
Love Through Time
Volume III, Chapter vi
by Sailor Europa
The smell of dirt.
That's the first thing I could actually pick out: the one piece of information that
seemed to register inside my mind. Within a few seconds a whole wash of more scents
assaulted my nose. The orchards came second, but before long manure, moisture and
sweat all mingled in with them. It all hung around me; before I'd even opened my eyes
I'd known I was outside.
The previous night slammed into my consciousness like a runaway horse, and the
grass that tickled my palms reminded me of the last thought I had before I hit the ground
without feeling it. I had gripped the land beneath me, in one last desperate attempt to hold
onto what had meant so much to me. I had tried to keep the lie alive, but as I awoke,
seemingly all at once, but in reality very slowly, I knew that it hadn't been the nightmare
I longed for it to be. The headache that seemed to overwhelm all other thought proved it.
My eyes flew open and although the flurry of activity was nothing but a blur of
fuzzy colors to my unfocused eyes at this point, I was alert enough to be shocked. This
wasn't my room and I certainly wasn't amongst familial faces.
"Ay! Looks who's finally awoke from 'er beauty sleep!"
I whirled around at the sound of the gruff voice, though almost familiar,
nonetheless frightening under the circumstances I found myself. I blinked, trying still to
make more details appear, but to no avail. I could only see the wide mug of an older
gentleman, surrounded by furrows of ghastly red hair, hopelessly wild. I inhaled a gasp,
and the bear of a man let billows of thick, willowy laughter peal out. Considering the
situation, I thought it wholly out of place.
"Not 'zackly what you expected to see when ya' opened yer eyes, was it lass?" I
don't think a thing about me offered any sort of reply, but this seemed to suffice to him,
and he chuckled merrily once more. I was glad that someone was comfortable, but it only
made me uneasier at that point. I put my head in my hands, recognizing that nothing
would make sense until my eyes cooperated. I rubbed them mercilessly and moaned, the
pressure causing waves of pain to cascade through my skull. I'd never known pain such
as this; it was unbearable.
I wished for nothing more than to find myself somehow, some way, back in my
warm bed, covered with layers and layers of fresh linen to burrow under until this
mountainous pain exited my body. I wanted to find mother hovering over me in worry,
fetching the help to make me soup and peach tea. I wanted to turn back the clock, back to
last week, last month, last year, before I'd been shoved into this mess. Maybe a week ago
I could have done that, but it was awfully clear that after last night, God had chosen a
different path for me. The thin, shallow layers of skin I'd been hiding under were being
pealed away to reveal something else beneath them and I wasn't sure what I would find.
But I knew that I wasn't the same girl anymore; and that hurt more than any wretched
headache ever would.
"Charles!"
Both the man in front of me (whom I had assessed was Charles) and I turned at
the sound, my eyes flying open. I counted it a small miracle that I could see, but quickly
repealed that as I saw whom the new voice belonged to.
"Darien! Sleeping beauty 'as decided to grace us with 'er presence finally!" The
Irishman chortled, with such a tone that I would have guessed was genuine happiness. I
might have blushed at his little rib had I been anywhere else. Charles kneeled in front of
me though, before I could even muster a little color, and I could swear that he looked
concerned. "We were beginning to wonder if you'd ever wake up, darlin'."
He stood up just then, dusting off his slacks, which I thought funny, as they were
hopelessly covered in a permanent layer of soot and mud already. I then looked down at
my own clothes, in the same sad condition. I knew mother would be ready to slaughter
me, but for the moment I wasn't going to think about that. Even the thought of what Papa
would say when I stumbled in this morning wasn't plaguing me. Yet.
I found Darien in Charles' place now and he stared intently at me, his eyes boring
into my own. I held his steady gaze for a few moments before I grew uneasy and looked
away. He grabbed my chin though and forced my face closer to his. I slapped at his
wrists, squealing haughtily, and tried to wriggle away. His own face grew impatient and
his grip just tightened.
"What the hell do you think you're.…" I struggled out, before he cut me off.
"Oh, calm down, brat, I'm only trying to see if there's any damage." He let go of
me and I stumbled back at the sudden release of pressure. "It doesn't look like you
suffered a concussion." I rubbed my jaw, and glared at him as he stood back up.
"What have you done with me? Where am I?" I barked, and Darien turned to face
me again, his eyes now dancing.
"Would you have preferred we leave you in the field that you collapsed in?"
"Where am I then? Where did you take me?"
He sighed. "You don't even recognize your own land? Boy, you are spoiled.
Never even set a foot in the fields your own family owns."
"Wha…. What are we doing here?" I looked around, and instantly noticed the
mound of freshly dug earth half a yard to the left of me. My heart leapt and I cursed the
few tears that sprung up. It was still too fresh in my thoughts at this point.
Darien must have noticed because I could hear his voice soften, even as he spoke.
"We always bury them in the land that they worked."
I nodded numbly. Inhaling, Darien once again knelt down in front of me and for a
second he looked like a completely different person. The animosity had dissipated for the
moment and without that barrier between us, I grew uncomfortable. I almost wished he'd
had contempt in his eyes instead of whatever it was that had taken its place now.
"What were you doing in the field last night?"
"Papa had sent me to deliver some papers to a neighbor." I answered, wondering
if it really could have been last night. I felt like I must have slept for a week, instead of
only a few hours. "It was getting dark and late, so I cut through the fields." Darien
nodded, and I knew he must have been wondering what exactly I'd seen. I didn't wait for
him to ask. "I saw it all." I mumbled, looking down.
"You what?" He said, visibly surprised. He blinked, staring incredulously at me.
"I saw it." I choked out, and pointed to this new grave I had spotted a few
moments ago. "That's who that is, isn't it? The colored boy from last night?" No matter
how I tried, I couldn't bring myself to speak the exact words to describe what had
happened. I couldn't say that he had died. I knew that I, who hadn't done a thing to stop
it, didn't have the right to say it.
"Yeah." He said softly. I collected my knees up to my chest and laid my chin in
the crook between them. It occurred to me that I looked most unladylike, but that was a
fleeting thought, and even though I dismissed it before it had even been present for half a
second, I felt shallow and empty for even considering it. As long as things like the events
from last night happened, ladies didn't exist. "Ladies" and "gentlemen" were lies; façades
that were meant to cover up the ugliness that was reality. I hated myself for believing that
lie for so long. But I hated the truth more. It was even uglier.
The tears cascaded slowly down my dusty cheeks, but I made no move to brush
them away. I sighed silently, and I closed my eyes. The heaviness of the situation, the
reality of the fact that I couldn't turn back from this, weighed on my shoulders. I didn't
know what to do next. I thought that going home meant denying what I had seen, but
staying here seemed even more impossible. I'd lived in that home, far too large for such a
family, for too many years. Who here would accept me? Who would believe I had really
changed? And who could blame them if they didn't?
I blinked, and found Darien, now sitting fully, in front of me, digging in his
pockets. I sniffled, and after a moment he'd pulled out a clean white handkerchief. He
handed it to me, and I took it wordlessly. I wiped the tears from my face and sighed,
biting my lip. People were beginning to disperse, and I was suddenly aware of several
more figures, colored and white, some still milling about, others gathering burlap sacks
and jackets and disappearing into the trees unceremoniously.
"What…." I began, but before I could finish, Darien motioned around him and
guessed my question.
"We usually hold some sort of service at the grave site after we've buried the
victim."
I nodded and looked up at the Eastern sky. It was still late summer, so our
mornings started early, but the sun was still inching its way over the horizon. Again,
Darien read my thoughts and spoke before I had a chance to.
"It's probably only slightly after five." He eyed me emotionlessly. "The help will
be up, but I doubt any family is."
I nodded, reading between the lines, and stood simultaneously with him. I was
sore and my head still ached, but that was nothing compared to the pain that I was
imagining I would feel once I step foot back in my home. I didn't see any other option,
but I was very frightened all the same.
I must have stood in that spot for a while, because after a bit Darien cocked his
head to the side and gave me a concerned look that, despite how careful he'd been, still
perturbed me.
"Are you going to be OK?" He asked. I scowled, regretting it immediately as the
movement in my facial muscles caused more pain to rack my head. I didn't nod,
imagining what that must feel like.
"Fine. It's just a small headache." I gritted my teeth. "I'll be fine." I repeated and
turned my nose to the sky as if to reiterate the thought, but found my balance thrown off
and stumbled shakily.
"Whoa, whoa!" Darien chuckled and placed an arm around my waist before I had
a chance to hit the ground, and pulled me to my feet again. Charles laughed and I
grimaced at the sound. "I think it'd be best if I saw you safely home. I'd feel better
knowing you didn't pass out on your trip home again." I couldn't tell if that was
supposed to be a joke or not, and I really didn't care. Frankly, I would have felt better
knowing that myself.
"Thanks." I mumbled, sniffling as I straightened myself out, wriggling under the
feeling of being so close to this man. I thought back involuntarily to the last time we had
been within such a close proximity, and he'd kissed me inexplicably. I felt my cheeks
flush as the blood rushed to my head. I pulled away then, and wrapped my arms around
my waist, shivering at the chilly dawn breeze, the orchards making it crisp. I could see
Charles watching us out of the corner of his eyes as we left through the short, squatting
trees.
We walked in silence for a few moments, and I stared ahead, suddenly unbearably
uncomfortable. Darien didn't seem to notice or even pay attention to me, and to my
annoyance, that only irked me more. He could at least pretend like he was still concerned.
After probably 10 minutes of silence, except for the swishing of our
bodies smacking a few low branches, we hit the outer border of the orchard, marked by
the road I had traveled almost every day my whole life. Beyond the well-worn dirt and
gravel path was the immediate land surrounding the plantation and our home. I sucked in
a breath, unprepared for the overwhelming senses that conflicted each other inside me. I
was so relieved to see something so familiar, so welcoming, but at the same time realized
that no one inside knew what had happened last night. It was possible that no one even
knew I was gone the whole evening. In fact, it was probably very likely that no one had
noticed. Mother and Papa retired early, and my sisters hardly even noticed when I was
present, let alone when I wasn't. I felt such a sense of relief suddenly that my body
weakened again, and for once I didn't flinch when Darien grasped my waist tightly to
support my frame.
"I think I can make it from here." I said, not taking my eyes off my home as I
spoke. He instantly let go of me, so quickly that it was almost as if he recoiled from
something I'd done. I cast a wary glance in his direction, annoyed once more, but his
eyes were turned to where mine had been.
I inhaled bravely and began the forward motion before he stopped me.
"Selena." He said and with such a finality that I wondered if he was going to
continue or leave it at that. I stared at him, waiting, my annoyance growing with each
passing second that he stayed silent. Just as I was prepared to exit again, he began.
"Are you going to be OK after what happened?" He turned to look at me, and my
contempt melted away. I think I'd always known that deep down, everybody had a soft,
compassionate side, but seeing it from this man still shocked me. His eyes were warm,
but I knew that he was worried about me. I had felt it in his grasp each time he'd had to
pull me up. I wanted to smile, but under my current circumstances, couldn't manage it.
"Honestly, I'm not sure." I said, kind of surprised at the answer myself. I looked
back at my home and squinted, as if trying to find the safe-haven I'd known as a child.
"There's a part of me that doesn't think that opening that door is possible. I want to be
like I was yesterday. I want to feel happy and satisfied when I enter that house, but I
know that deep down I won't." I shrugged. "But what can I do about that? I have to go
back, no matter what my heart feels like right now." I thought of something ironic, and
couldn't help but smile wryly, despite how out of place it seemed at that moment.
"I think you were right. I am a spoiled little peach. Maybe if I hadn't been, this
wouldn't hurt so much right now."
"You've moved past that part of your life now, Selena. I think we both know
that." He said, and I didn't try to mask my shock, even though I agreed silently.
"Is it wrong to want to go back?" I asked sadly, and I expected him to throw a
disparaging remark at my selfishness, but he just stared straight ahead, his face
unchanging.
"No. That's never going to change. It's always easier to be happy and ignorant
than it is to be smart and miserable." He stated, and I nodded. That certainly felt true.
"It's not going to get any easier either, is it?" I asked suddenly. "I mean, I don't
feel like this is it. Now that I know all this new information, I don't feel like I can
just…let it be."
"That's why Charles and I spend all our time running around under darkness,
digging up people's orchards and scaring the daylights out of spoiled daughters." He gave
me a half smile and I smirked. "When we found out, we knew that if we just forgot and
went about our normal lives, we'd be no better than those who refused to acknowledge it.
In fact, we'd be worse. We had to do something."
"Even put yourselves in danger every single night?" I asked, suddenly awed by
his selflessness. He shrugged the comment off, as if it was out of his control.
"If I get hurt, then at least I can say it was for the right reasons. At least I know I
was doing something meaningful. If I were to sit at home by the fire each night, thinking
about what I'd seen, I'd go insane with guilt. I couldn't live with myself."
I nodded, wondering if the same would be true for me. I already felt guilty enough
to keep me awake for weeks, but…to risk my life and my safety each night? To do what
Darien and Charles and countless others do? I felt wretched and horrible for the first time
- the first real time - in my life as I ccompared myself to the man standing beside me. I'd
been filled with such hatred and loathing for him for as long as I could remember. But in
truth, he was so much more human than I was. He was willing to put his life on the line,
and I wasn't sure I was willing to risk my social life or safe home for all the same
reasons. I was suddenly so ashamed of myself and my life that it was almost making me
sick.
"I should get home. It won't be long before everyone is up." I said quietly, and I
was almost disappointed when Darien immediately turned around and started in the other
direction without another word. I couldn't imagine running into him again; in fact, I
almost couldn't imagine ever leaving my home again. I wanted to curl up and sleep until
I was 21 and married, away from this hole I'd dug myself into. But the idea made me a
little sad. I admired Darien, probably more so than I had anyone else in my life, except
maybe my brother. I needed more respectable people in my life, and I felt like Darien was
my only link to the new reality I'd found. I was afraid that I might forget without any
reminders.
I was still until I couldn't hear the swishing of the grass and branches that he
disturbed as he left. Once I was truly alone, I inhaled deeply, feeling like I was starting a
new life, and not knowing what to expect from it. I didn't know how I would act or what
I would say. And I was more frightened than I had ever been in my life, but I couldn't
stop now. There was no turning back.
*****
It was a lot easier than I'd imagined.
I never really realized how easy it was to be ignored when you lived in a working
household, with 4 other family members and countless help. Not to mention mother was
constantly entertaining someone, and even though I was often times required to be
present, little else was expected of me other than a few smiles or clichéd phrases. My
sisters and I were never close, so even with them it was easy to get away with a lot. I was
amazed at how little anything changed, and yet I was able to hide the immense change
inside me.
With one exception: I was no longer able to ask the slaves to do anything.
I found it physically and mentally impossible to have them lift a finger for me. I
had never been the hardest to serve or work for, and I didn't consider myself bossy
compared to my sisters. However now, no matter whether the task was simple or hard, I
always attempted it myself. And even when that was impossible, I insisted on lending a
hand if one of the darkies had to assist me. I thought, to begin with, that one of my
parents might notice and wonder, but they were usually so preoccupied with war talk or
gossip about the neighbors that they never cast me a sideways glance. The slaves were a
little taken aback at first, and for the first week or two they all were so cautious or
suspicious or nervous when it happened. I got some horrid looks, and it made me feel all
the worse, the guilt just building up inside of me with each withering glare. What must
they think of me? I wondered. And how horrible must I have been before for them to hate
me so much now? I wanted to be bitter about it, but it was impossible. I couldn't possibly
fault them for despising me. No matter how well I treated them, or how much of
the workload I tried to lift from their shoulders, they were still "ours". In truth, we still
owned them, and no amount of good will could make up for that.
But after about 2 weeks, I noticed a miraculous change in most of the slaves. It
was as if over night they all changed, just as quickly and drastically as I had. At first I
was as suspicious as they had been, and then a thought occurred to me. Darien's network
of people seemed to be connected to every plantation within 20 miles, including my own.
It wouldn't be impossible for someone within that group to inform anyone what I'd gone
through. Maybe it had even been Darien himself.
After that, though, things become much easier to handle at home, and I kept
constantly catching the eyes of one of them. Some would smile shyly, some would just
nod, and some of the older males would wink merrily, causing me to giggle. While the
situation was still far from perfect or ideal, I think we all were a little more comfortable.
But as the next few days wore on, I became restless. Even though I was hardly the
cause of their anxiety or pain anymore, I couldn't relieve myself of the fact that I wasn't
doing anything to help them, either. They didn't deserve to be here, under lock and key,
referred to as "property". And as each sun set, I grew more and more uneasy having to
wake up and know that nothing I had done the day before had attempted to change that. I
hadn't breathed a word to mother or Papa, and as far as anyone else in the house was
concerned, I hadn't changed a bit. Maybe my demeanor was slightly off-kilter, but most
of my family was too preoccupied to notice the miniscule difference. I kept thinking of
Darien and all that he sacrificed every day for what he believed in. I found myself
longing to do the same. The admiration I'd felt for him had grown into an overwhelming
respect; I dreamed of being as brave and courageous as he was.
I began to find that I actually wanted to see Darien again, which really wasn't a
big surprise if I was honest with myself. When I watched him disappear into the orchards
that morning after, I couldn't help feeling a sense of loss. My ideas about him had
changed, and rather quickly. I felt guilty about the way I treated him before, as well as
some newly discovered appreciation. I wanted to thank him or… something. Let him
know just how much I believed in him and his cause.
The chance came sooner than I thought.
Our whole family had settled in the front room of the house for a few hours in the
early evening one night. It had gone unnoticed that I had gotten up to get myself some
tea, rather than have one of the house slaves make it for me, but apparently while I was
gone I had missed the faint knocking at the door. However, when I came back obliviously
and found Darien standing in our doorway, nervously turning his hat in his hands, my
shock was plainly evident. I don't think anyone could have missed the noisy clattering of
my teacup shattering on the floorboards.
Mother, obviously embarrassed by my lack of conduct, knelt down with me,
retrieving shards of porcelain. I tried to mimic her movements, but I couldn't keep my
eyes from Papa and Darien, both talking in hushed tones. From where I was, I couldn't
see Papa's expression, but judging by Darien's reactions to whatever he was saying, it
couldn't have been too friendly. Papa already thought very little of him for not enlisting,
and I couldn't imagine anything Darien did or said would change things. And the way the
conversation seemed to be going, Papa's opinion of him could only be going downhill.
I continued the charade of helping mother clean up my mess, but every few
seconds my eyes locked with Darien's and I wished more than anything that I could hear
what was being said. Could he be asking Papa for something? I could hardly even
imagine that! Most of the people within miles felt the same way as Papa did about Darien
and his family – none of them enlisted, and as far as they were concerned, the war was
nothing more than sheer foolishness. That was all any Southerner needed to hear to form
an idea about them. Since the battles had begun, his family was hardly welcome in any
home, shop or shack in all of Georgia. I didn't know how they survived as well as they
did.
I said a silent prayer for Darien as I bowed my head politely before taking the
remnants of my cup back to kitchen. I paused in the darkness and listened for any noise
that might be made, and as soon as I heard a door slam angrily, my breath sucked far into
my chest. I knew that if I didn't find out what had happened, there would be no sleeping
tonight. Getting it out of Papa would be impossible; I was going to have to go after
Darien.
"Mama." I started as soon as I entered the room again, my back stiff. "I'm really
feeling a bit faint. Would it be all right if I got some fresh air before I retired to bed?"
"Oh, darling, is that what that little skirmish was all about?" She clucked her
tongue and shook her head as only a concerned mother would as she turned back to her
knitting that lay on her lap. "Of course. Would you like some company?"
"Oh no, I don't think that's necessary. I'm just going to sit near the porch and
watch the rest of the sun set, if that's all right." I quickly added, so as to cover any
possible action I might take. "Perhaps take a short stroll before it gets too dark."
"If you think that will help." She replied. "Try not to be too late. Everything will
be turned off if you are too much longer."
I cheered, realizing they trusted me enough to go to retire before I returned, and it
was all I could do to keep from running out the door. The sun had sunk considerably
below the horizon and it was hard to see, but as soon as I made it down the porch steps, I
took off running as fast as my skirt would let me. I made it as far as the border of the
eastern orchards before I saw a tall figure immerge from the cover of the trees. As I
slowed my pace, I realized he must have waited for me, and my heart jumped a bit, but I
couldn't tell if it was from my short sprint or perhaps something else.
"Darien!" I called, in as loud a voice as I dared. He walked in long strides to me,
and grasped at my shoulders as my momentum stopped and I lurched forward. He let a
small breath of amusement escape before he noticed the serious look in my eyes and
sobered up. "What happened? What was that all about?"
"I came to ask your father about the man who supervises your slaves." He said,
his voice curt, and I could tell he was obviously upset over their conversation.
"Jared? What about him?" I asked curiously, my heart beginning to race even
more. Darien's eyes looked downward and I could hear him sigh, defeated.
"Things happened a few nights ago. At first we thought it might just be an
isolated incident, but then, last night, it all repeated itself."
"What? What happened?" I asked anxiously, afraid of what I might hear, but
knowing that I wouldn't be able to rest until I knew. I think my common sense told me
that I already knew what he was going to say, but I had to hear it. I trusted Darien, and I
knew he would not lie to me.
"A few nights ago, he shot a young mother. Last night, he killed her 18 month old
son."
I closed my eyes and I could feel my knees give way, but Darien was prepared
and caught me before I collapsed again. I hadn't been ready for all that; it was even more
horrific than I could have imagined. I gripped tightly onto the bicep that was holding my
waist now, and my eyes blurred with tears. I hadn't let the gravity of the situation hit me
for a while, and now it seemed like a much heavier weight was on me.
"Selena, you really shouldn't be involved in this." He said resolutely, but I shook
my head.
"No, it's like you said - I can't go back to how it used to be. I can't just pretend
like everything is all right when it's not." I choked, sucking the tears back in. I could not
go back inside my house with blood shot eyes. I couldn't risk that, so I bit my lip and
willed myself not let any fall.
"You shouldn't be out here right now, and if anyone sees us, we'll both be in
more trouble than we can handle. Now please, go back inside and forget-."
"Forget?" I barked, my neck snapping backwards to face him. "You think I'm
going to be able to forget? You've been pestering me for months because I had no idea
what kind of things went on around me, and now that I know, you think you have the
right to ask me to forget?"
"Selena, it's OK for me to do this night after night, because my family feels the
same way I do. They know why I feel obligated, and they accept it. But yours doesn't,
and I couldn't live with myself if you got caught and had to face your father." He said
softly, and I bit my lip. I hadn't even allowed myself to consider the consequences that
might befall me if Papa ever found out about how I felt now. Let alone if he ever found
me trying to help the very cause he hated.
"I just don't think I can sit around and do nothing. Not now." I sighed, looking
sad. I knew that, deep down, he was right, and it was nearly impossible for me to even
think of lending a hand.
"I know it's hard. The most I can ask of you right now is to pray for us, and pray
for the people we're trying to help." He replied, but I could tell he was strained. I nodded
numbly, but remained silent. I couldn't argue with him, even though I still felt horribly
guilty about the prospect of returning home without having done anything that made a
difference.
"You should go back now. Your family will wonder where you've been." He said
softly, cocking his head towards our home. I exhaled slowly, but before I started out, I
turned back.
"Darien, I'm really sorry for all the things that have been said between us." I
blushed, and was silently glad that it was now too dark for him to notice. "I really admire
and respect you for doing this. It takes a lot of courage."
"I don't deserve your respect or your admiration. I do this to relieve my guilty
conscience. I don't like laying awake all night, that's all." His gaze grew dark as he
spoke, but for only a second before he turned his eyes down towards me again and
softened immediately. "I appreciate the warm thoughts though. I need all the
encouragement I can get, these days.
"Now go on. I won't have you getting in trouble because of me." He said, smiling
as he gave me a small nudge. I smiled and began to trot back towards the house. The
lights were off, and I knew that no one had waited up for me, just like they had said.
I clicked open the door as silently as possible and peered in. Everything was as I
expected. Not even the help had stayed up. I glanced at the grandfather clock near the
kitchen doorway and found I'd been gone a little less than 2 hours. Without making a
sound, I turned back towards the large curtain that was draped lazily across the picture
window, beyond which was a perfect view of the orchards. I decided to take one last
chance, and pray that no one would come downstairs and find me as I poked my
finger between the seems and peered out. It took my eyes a few moments to adjust to the
darkness I had just come from, but just in the distance I could make out a figure retreating
across the dirt road just beyond our land. I smiled, my suspicions being affirmed. He had
waited for me, not leaving the confines of the orchards' shadows until I was safely inside.
Somehow, that made me feel safer and more secure than anything else in the
world had been able to.
*************************************************
slr_europa@yahoo.com
http://www.geocities.com/slr_europa/
AIM :: ropachan
(
geocities.com/slr_europa)