Saturday, November 30, 2019

Mythology Short Answers Essay Example

Mythology Short Answers Essay How is the word myth used popularly? For example, what does the statement, â€Å"It’s a myth† mean? In contrast, how is the word myth used in the academic context? After considering the definition in your textbooks and course materials, write a definition in your own words. The academic definition of a myth† is discovering a way of making meaning that has been part of every human society. † I believe myths are stories that are told from generation to generation. Depending on our culture, religion, beliefs and so on would determine the moral meaning behind the story. Some myths are legends. For example,† the cross of Jesus† is determined to be a legend and a myth. Depending on how the story is interpreted by the person listening to it. Myth is used to relate and have a reason for things that we do, as a society we need a logical meaning for the purpose for things we need and believe, with this we turn to myths. 2). Why do myths from different cultures around the world address such similar or universal themes? Think about how myths explain the unknown and the tribulations of mankind. Stemming from different countries from across the globe there are different culture values that has meaning to our behavior. We will write a custom essay sample on Mythology Short Answers specifically for you for only $16.38 $13.9/page Order now We will write a custom essay sample on Mythology Short Answers specifically for you FOR ONLY $16.38 $13.9/page Hire Writer We will write a custom essay sample on Mythology Short Answers specifically for you FOR ONLY $16.38 $13.9/page Hire Writer Generation to generation learn from one another that is how our brains developed intellectually. We will be able to ask certain questions about myths. Then we will be able to answer that same question with our own mythological understanding. When we study different cultures and their myths, we learn their culture, their beliefs, their way of life which subsequently broaden our mindset to a pleatherer of views on the same subject. 3). What is the relationship between belief, knowledge, mythology, and religion? Where do mythology and religion intersect? Where do they diverge? Think about the function of myth and religion in helping human beings cope with change, suffering, loss, and death. â€Å"Religion and mythology differ, but have overlapping aspects. Both refer to the system of concepts that are of high importance to a certain community making statements concerning the supernatural or sacred. † Myths can be a legend, or a fairytale, depending on its credibility. Religion is what people believe in, their faith, like a since of hope. In today’s society some religions have become myths so the start of newer religions may form. The very basic aspects of the world around us that myths explains are the course of day and night or seasons, the mysteries of life and death, and the creation of the world. In the African American culture we believe when a loved one has passed on we should celebrate their life. Celebrating their life means they are no longer in pain or suffering they are going home to the Almighty and we should be happy for them. Dealing with change, suffering, and loss is really about the same we pray to the man above and hope we can get through it. In our culture we rely a lot on hope. 4). How would you defend mythology’s relevance in contemporary culture? Think about familial and cultural traditions. Also, consider how mythology is used in the arts and in advertising to typify human experience. Mythology has to put forth a comprehensive compelling force on the culture, the arts and the literature of African American culture remains part of the African heritage and language. Poets and artists from segregation times to the present have to obtain inspiration from African Mythology and African Folktales have discovered contemporary significance and connected to the matter at hand in these mythological themes. Long before the continuance of being the printing press, personal computers the internet and other modes of modern communication. People have written their world through telling a story to their love ones and through the oral customs. An important part of that process was the creation of mythology collections of stories to explain a culture ancestry. These myths were passed on through generations and generations.

Tuesday, November 26, 2019

Mack Charles Parker essays

Mack Charles Parker essays Mack Charles Parker was an African American born in 1936. He grew up in Poplarville, Mississippi, and at age 36 was murdered by a mob because he was accused of raping a white woman. Accusing black men of crimes, even when innocent, was common in the south at this time and many innocent men were punished by death for the deeds of white men. Mack Parker was arrested for raping and kidnapping Mrs. June Walters from Petal, Mississippi. Mrs. Walters claimed that she and her husband were driving through Lumberton, MS when their vehicle broke down. Mr. Walters went to get some help while June stayed in the vehicle. She stated that while her husband was gone, Mack Parker kidnapped her and her four year-old daughter at gunpoint and took them to Black Creek Ford Road where he proceeded to rape her. At the time of the rape, she was pregnant. Mrs. Walters went to the police but did not identify her alleged attacker by name, nor did she give a very detailed description of him - she only mentioned his race and approximate age. After hours of searching, Lumberton police were told by a local Baptist minister that Parker committed the crime. With that, Parker was arrested February 24. He was beaten by the sheriff and his deputies and then taken to jail. On April 13, Mack Charles Parker was made to appear before Pearl River County Grand Jury on one count of rape and two counts of kidnapping. A few days later Parker was brought back to Pearl River County so he could appear before Judge Sebe Dale, where he pled not guilty to all charges. Judge Dale set the trial date for April 27, and Parker was returned to his cell at the Pearl River County Courthouse. Two days before Mr. Parker was scheduled to return to court, he was dragged from his cell forcefully by a group of eight to ten men. A quote in "Black Like Me" by John Howard Griffin states that they went up to his cell -the bastards- and grabbed his feet and dragged him down the stair...

Friday, November 22, 2019

Writing Contest with Cash Prizes

Writing Contest with Cash Prizes ATTENTION ALL WRITERS! Summer has arrived, and this means our essay writing contest is now open for your submissions! The contest is international, so participants from any country are welcome! Visit the contest page for all the guidelines and submission details. Deadline August 1, 2014. Selected winner and runners-up will be announced on August 4, 2014. Win Cash Prizes $250 for the winner $100 for the first runner up $100 for the second runner up Spread the word about the contest to your friend authors who may be interested. We look forward to reading your submissions. Best of luck and happy writing!

Wednesday, November 20, 2019

Measuring Employee Performance - Part II Assignment

Measuring Employee Performance - Part II - Assignment Example anwhile as a public health facility, I opine that some of the goals, particularly on communication could have been made to include the provision of communicative roles to external stakeholders such as customers. As Aguinis (2013) noted, any true performance outcome should have the ability of reflecting the overall organizational culture, which I believe includes customer satisfaction. I like your post for two major reasons. First, you rightly appreciate the need for job description to be made in line with the organization’s overall mission, vision, goals and strategies† (Aguinis, 2013). Then leading up from this, you went ahead to set five metric goals which contain performance outcomes for both internal work output and external wok output. For example internally, you appreciated the need to establish effective HR programs whiles externally, you touched on maintaining good customer service. In my opinion, this approach ensures that the new employee will not only focus on the most immediate performance related attitudes that will be seen at the workplace. Rather, the employee will see a bigger performance responsibility that includes external stakeholders and thus put in more efforts to

Tuesday, November 19, 2019

Economics Essay Example | Topics and Well Written Essays - 1500 words - 7

Economics - Essay Example This piece of research paper defines potential growth and actual growth and explains the basic differences between them based on the literatures. This paper described how governments can influence both actual and potential growth of a country through demand and supply variables. Definitions of Potential and real growth Economic growth in simple term is an increase in a country’s output. Actual growth has been defined as an economic growth which is measured as a rate at which the real GDP- Gross Domestic Product- is changing. A country may be able to produce more quantity of goods and services and thus its potential will increase due to an increase in the quantity or quality of its resources. This is referred as potential growth (Grant and Vidler, p. 142). Thus, actual growth refers to the increase in the output of a country whereas potential growth is an increase in a country’s ability to produce goods and services with the resources it has. As Katz (p. 30) defined, pot ential growth is the rate that an economy can sustain over the long haul by operating in full capacity. Actual growth is the exact change or growth in the economy as a result of the real GDP growth or change. Actual growth occurs when the resources and factors of production are increased and as a result the actual output has been increased. The total output of a country measured in total income or quantities of the goods and services it produced may change over time even when there are no change in the resources. If it is assumed that the quantity and quality of the available resources are fixed in a country, the production possibility curve can still shift its positions as the maximum potential output of that country may change. When the resources are fixed in a specific time period, they can do possibly change over time. A good example for this can be illustrated from a country’s growing population. When its population grows, it will directly cause increase in the supplies of labors and entrepreneurial skills etc and most probably labor quality also improve over time. Apart from these, the country would probably become able to increase its stock of capital, improve the existing energy, mineral and related resources etc. As a result of the increase in these factors of production in the country, its ability to produce more outputs will also increase and it refers to the potential growth (McConnell and Brue, p. 29). Differences between Actual Growth and Potential Growth The basic difference between actual growth and potential growth is that, as detailed above, actual growth refers to the growth in the economy being measured as a rate at which the real GDP is changing whereas potential growth refers to a country’s ability to produce more being its production possibility is more due to an increase in its factors of production (Samuelson, p. 469). From the view of economists, the potential or full-employment growth rate is an estimate of how much sup ply of goods and services that the country produces would be expanding if all the available or existing factors of production were fully utilized (Baumol and Blinder, p. 136). Actual growth measures the demand for goods and services within the country, and the demand for them may be less than the potential supply. Some factors in this case may be underused (Lincoln, p. 26). When a country is accessible to larger

Saturday, November 16, 2019

God of Small Things Essay Example for Free

God of Small Things Essay In â€Å"God of Small Things†, written by Arundati Roy, Roy talks about many things but one thing that stood out was her negativity of what the colonist had brought over into India. Her argument could be that the colonist brought materialism into their culture making the natives think that they need things that they really do not need. The colonist bring the thought that making money any way possible is acceptable and Roy points out that ritual dances are even being used as a way of profit. Roy is just pointing out what effect colonialism has had on the people of the native country. Like many other text from post-colonial nations â€Å"God of â€Å"Small Things† points out the negative aspect of colonialism. Roy throughout the book talks about the city of Ayemenem and the river that used to flow through it. On one side of this river there was a place called the â€Å"history house†. Roy describes this place as a worn and old abandoned estate in a couple of her chapter but in one chapter she is describing what it looks like now and how different it is from when she was just a child. In chapter five a hotel is described; this is the chapter that I think she criticizes the rich and how they have become rich. Roy is showing her disapproval for the colonist making what was once an abandoned land fill into a tourist attraction that is no longer an eye sore and is now a beautiful estate. In chapter five Rahal returned to the river she used to know as a child. She describes how it used to be compared to how it is now that she has returned. Rahal does not seem to care about progress â€Å"So now they had two harvests a year instead of one. More rice-for the price of a river† (Roy 59). Sure people were making a profit from the rice but there will always be someone that is making a profit from something. The only good thing that Roy sees from the people making barges is that there is one more harvest; there are many rewards from having another harvest and they are not recognized; it is not that she probably does not see them but she is just pointing out the negativity from the colonist. Roy continues on and describes a five-star hotel that had bought what they used to call the â€Å"Heart of Darkness†. She says that the History House no longer could be approached from the river and that the house had turned its back on Ayemenem. Roy described this place as an abandoned haunted estate that nobody ever went to when she was a child but she says that it has turned its back on Ayemenem. Once again progress is looked at in a negative way. The hotel guests were transported to the estate by a speed boat through the backwaters and Roy describes the boats as leaving a film of gasoline. She does say that the hotel does have a beautiful view but says that they try to cover up the slum part of Ayemenem, which is understandable, it is not nature, all the slum was man made and they do not want to look at slummy areas. There was not much that the hotel could do about the smell of the waist. Roy makes many assumptions about the â€Å"hotel people†. First the thoughts are that the people actually care what is going on around them, and they do not care. She calls the estate a â€Å"smelly paradise†; the guest are to get used to the smell as they have become immune to other peoples poverty; with that statement she is claiming that everyone that owns the hotel and stays there is rich and does not know what poverty taste like; everything was a matter of discipline, nothing more to them. Roy then goes on to criticize the way the people are making money; through selling their history. In chapter five Roy not only criticizes and shows the negatives of progress, with hardly any positives, but also criticizes the way the people are making a living and profit. The â€Å"hotel people† advertise their estate as a paradise with history making many sensational claims just to draw the tourist to their paradise. She called many of the buildings that had history for sale â€Å"Toy Histories†. Roy does not like the fact that these people are trying to make a profit off of their own history and culture. The biggest thing of all probably is when the hotel hires dancers to perform dances that are classic ritual dances that have actual meaning and are not just for show; six hour classics are turned in to 20 minuet shows for pleasure. The ancient ritual dances were diluted into nothing more than entertainment where at one time they had meant something to the culture that those people once love so dearly. Here it is easy to see why Roy would criticize so much but one must realize that everyone cannot be pleased and never will be pleased. The colonial effect had some good effects and had bad, but Roy again only seems to point out the negativity that the colonialism has brought to the nation. Roy brings up many problems in her native land; I know that the point of her book is to point out the negativity of post-colonialism on her country but still, point out some more good things that did come out of colonialism. In many texts it is the same way though. In â€Å"God of Small Things† it speaks negatively of people from the native land sending their children to boarding schools in Britain, not directly but you can see that she is making a point that all the negativity is geared at those from the culture who have brought British culture and British economics back to their land. Whereas in Soyinka’s â€Å"Death of the King’s Horseman†, the horseman’s son has gone to Britain to study but comes back. After coming back he sees that his father has gone against customs and he decides to take it upon himself to see that the act is fulfilled in some form or another; in this text you have a native that stayed true to his native land but in Roy’s case the natives that went to Britain did not stay true and keep up their own culture but rather adopted another’s culture. Another example of colonist having an influence on the children of the native land and infiltrating through them is in Things Fall Apart, Okonkwo’s son becomes a Christian and Okonkwo does not like that, it is the beginning of his culture being put to a halt. Roy, I do not think, is pointing out all the people who sent their children to Britain but rather that even though India was â€Å"Independent† it still had Britain’s influence impacting almost everything in daily lives. In conclusion, Roy makes descriptive negative images because it is what she sees and has seen from the start. People that have not grown up in her culture from birth and seen the changes she has seen cannot fathom what she has seen. If someone from a more developed country was to go there they would see progression as a positive aspect because it is what they have grown up with but for people in that culture they can see the negative aspects of some progress; and that is what Roy is pointing out, she does point out some positives but the majority of the description about the way society is looked at is negative. The book becomes a very dreary read and quite depressing at some points because of all the negativity and horrible things that happen. However, all of the description of even the negative parts make you really get a since of what Roy is trying to say and that is that even with all the negativity one can break barriers. At the end of the day it is not the colonist fault for making Roy’s society what is but rather the people that refuse to change what needs to be changed. It does not matter about how much negativity is directed at the colonist, if the native people do not take responsibility they are to blame just as much as the British. The negativity is not geared at the British but rather her own society and own people.

Thursday, November 14, 2019

The Impact of NAFTA on the U.S. Textile Industry Essay -- Essays Paper

The Impact of NAFTA on the U.S. Textile Industry When the North American Free Trade Agreement went into effect in 1994, many expressed fears that one consequence would be large job losses in the US textile industry as companies moved production from the United States to Mexico. Opponents of NAFTA argued passionately, but unsuccessfully, that the treaty should not be adopted because of the negative impact it would have on employment in the United States, particularly in industries such as textiles. A glance at the data four years after the passage of NAFTA suggests the critics had a point. Between 1994 and mid-1997, about 149,000 US apparel workers lost their jobs, over 15 percent of all employment in the industry. Much of this job loss has occurred because producers have moved production to Mexico. Between 1994 and 1997, Mexico's apparel exports to the United States trebled to $3.3 billion. In 1993, the US jeans maker, Guess?, sourced 95 percent of its product domestically. Now it gets about 60 percent of its clothing from o utside the United States, with Mexico as one of the biggest suppliers. Similarly, in 1995, Fruit of the Loom Inc., the largest manufacturer of underwear in the United States, said it would close six of its domestic plants and cut back operations at two others, laying off about 3,200 workers, or 12 percent of its US work force. The company announced the closures were part of its drive to move its operations to cheaper plants abroad, particu...

Monday, November 11, 2019

Principles Of Supporting Business Events

Section 1 – Understand how to support the organisation of a business event1. When organising a business event, describe the range of support activities that may be required.When planning a business event you should find out how many people are coming then book the right venue. Organise the catering i.e. food and drink for the right amount of people. Book any accommodation for the people that may have travelled from overseas or can’t make same day travel. Arrange the guest speaker. Publicise the event to make people aware of the date/time/place. Name the guest speakers2. Complete the table below by identifying two ways of providing support before, during and after a business event.Before During After1.  Send out meeting invites With RSVP to know how many people will be coming. Always greet people with a smile and be polite. Be approachable1. Talk to individual parties/companies get their feedback and thank them or coming2.  Make sure the venue you book caters for eve ryone and has everything you need and the room isn’t too big/small for the amount of people coming 2. Sign people in, issue everyone with a name badge/information pack. Show people where to sit if you have allocated sitting plan.2. Review the event with your colleagues, this way you can find out if anything need to be improvedSection 2 – Understand the purpose of displaying professional and helpful behaviour whilst supporting a business event and how to do so1. Explain the purpose of displaying professional and helpful behaviour when supporting a business event.How you behave will affect the event and your business, if your friendly and polite and well groomed then this well make you more approachable for others to come and ask questions about the event. When talking make sure you always speak clearly, make eye contact and always have a smile e.g. you will more likely get support for similar events and also promote and advertise your business which is one of the main p urpose of organizing an event/meeting2. Describe ways of exhibiting professional and helpful behaviour whilst supporting a business event.All staff is well presented i.e. clean, well groomed. Greeting people as they come in, hand out all information packs name badges, smile make eye contact when spoken to be polite, speaking clearly so people can understand you. Have a friendly approach. Having a positive attitude gives a positive outcome.Section 3 – Understand how to deal with problems encountered when supporting a business event1. What are the main types of problems that may occur when supporting a business event? You should include at least three different types of problems in your answer.Process problemOrganising an event it’s always important to ask about any special requirement people may have limited mobility/disability e.g. Wheelchair accesses and disabled toilets and emergency exits, and any visually impaired and hearing problems. or have dietary NeedEquipment problemsThe event requires catering then the failure of kitchen equipment may result in people not have the right refreshments or foodPeople problemsLate or absent people can have an effect on the whole outcome of the event,  such as people turning up late means late start to the meetings staff in the wrong place at the wrong time2. Identify possible solutions for each of the problems you have listed in Question 1 above.Process problemFinding out any special requests before hand is important such as people with limited mobility need to be able to access all area such as entrance, toilets. People with eyesight problems should have a choice to sit near to the front if the meeting/event has visual equipment. Find out if anyone had dietary restrictions such as vegetarian, diabetes, any allergies.Equipment problemsCheck the Equipment is in fully working order before you start the meeting/event. People who are properly refreshed and fed are more than likely to enjoy the event/meeting a nd make more of a contribution.People problemsPeople arriving on time means everything can run smoothly and staff will be in the right place at the right time if the staffs have more than one area to cover. And the meeting/event can go ahead as planned at the planned timeIt is also to remain calm and apologise to the people attending the event/meeting to all the above and make sure it doesn’t happen again

Saturday, November 9, 2019

Native Americans in the United States Essay

Based on the ethnic groups (Table 1: Appendix), several beneficial values that helped to shape the United States lifestyle can be described (Holland, 2006). In particular, the brief summaries have given the clear picture of Multiculturalism in the United States in relation to the origin. The United States, for that matter, is captured as a multicultural society that is open to all people with different backgrounds. From an early time, several groups started moving into the region due to various reasons, which allowed for the development of a culturally diverse society. Hence, the United States substantially benefited from the cultural diversity as improved workforce was available for the various work scenarios. Despite the obvious benefits of multiculturalism in the society, some negative forms such as racism, stereotypes, prejudice, and discrimination flourished over several years (Holland, 2006). In the recent past, for example, several ethnic groups such as the African American, Hispanic, and Indian Americans have continually suffered racism, discrimination, and being depicted in certain stereotypes. Firstly, segregation between the Whites and Blacks was a key characteristic of the population before the rise of the civil rights during the 1950s and over (Holland, 2006). Workplaces, schools, commuter busses, and residential areas were segregated between the two groups until in 1954 when segregation in schools was banned. As a result, people started integrating on a multicultural perspective, which led to the realization of better performances and solutions for the workplaces. Besides the significant leap ahead, other factors such as prejudice and stereotyping still exist at the current date. For instance, the African American and Hispanic groups have been stereotyped in the villainous characters such as gangsters, robbers and the like for several decades (Holland, 2006). Such beliefs have existed for several years and are even a common occurrence in media the same way. Hand in hand, prejudice has also resulted from the occurrences. Therefore, prejudice and stereotypes are a normal situation in the culturally diverse environment of the United States. However, the multicultural nature of the country’s population resulted in some positive factors such as creation of a multicultural workforce that can meet the requirements of the target population in an effective manner (Kenyon, 2005). In connection to that, all the ethnic groups in the American landscape are subject to some positive, as well as, negative aspects of the cultural diversity. As a result, prejudice, stereotypes, racism, and discrimination that were once extremely high have considerably low effects on the modern and socially active populations. In conclusion, the United States still leads with regards to the benefits of cultural diversity among its people. Table 1: Multicultural Matrix and Analysis Worksheet. Part I: Matrix What is the group’s history in the United States? What is the group’s population in the United States? What are some attitudes and customs people of this group may practice? What is something you admire about this group’s people, lifestyle, or society? 1. The African American Several African American people are linked to a history of slavery since their ancestors were brought in the United States as slaves. This happened first during the 1600s-1700s, and where they assisted English colonialists to get American independence. Later, prominent leaders such as Martin Luther King, Jr. helped to change discrimination against Blacks. As a result, a breakthrough into the rampant segregation between the whites and blacks reduced. The African American has an approximate population of about 37 million forming about 13 percent of the total population of the United States. The African Americans are characterized by the practice of several cultural activities depicted in their music, art, and lifestyle. As such, they form a significant part of the USA as their culture substantially influenced the American culture. I appreciate the African American lifestyle and their music such as Hip-hop and reggae music. Additionally, I love their celebrations such as the Black history celebrations in which they remember their historic past. 2. The Hispanic and Latino American The Spanish became among the first settlers, before Europeans, to settle in some areas of America such as Florida and California. Several people of this group speak the English language only and have adopted the European-American Culture. On average, the Latino and Hispanic population in the United States is approximately 16 percent of the whole population. This accounts to almost 50 million people. The Hispanics are depicted as religious people who believe in helping one another. Families may be nuclear or extended, and the father is the final decision maker in the family setting, while the mother is the home care taker. However, all family members are expected to assist in the effective functioning of the setting. I love Hispanic music and their musicians such as Ricky Martin and Jenifer Lopez. Additionally, their Mexican foods are an excellent appetizer that I always cannot ignore. 3. The Indian American The Indian American officially became legal citizen in the United States in 1946. The Indians immigrated into the United States via other countries such as Jamaica, South Africa, and United Kingdom among other countries. The Indian population in America is reasonably low at approximately 0. 89 percent of the whole population. As such, this reflects to about 2. 5 million people. The Indian Americans have a strict cultural background and adhere to strict rule on religion, culture, and food among several other practices. Their religions are diverse and may include Hinduism, Islamism, Christianity, and Buddhism. I value the cultural practices of Indians especially those practicing Hinduism as they have fascinating ideas. One example is the caste system, where once in a low or high case system; one is destined to remain right there. 4. The American Asian Asians of the Chinese background came into the United States due to mainly conflicts from their countries. One situation was the Vietnam War, which led to massive migration of the affected into the USA. In the 1970s and 1980s, therefore, was time for the largest Asian migration into the United States. The Americans Asian account for about 5 percent of the United States’ population. As a result of cultural diversity, the American Asians are exposed to several challenges. I admire the Chinese way of life that comprises of fun in the form of art and craft. Additionally, I find pleasure watching some of their movies and appreciate the Yoga. 5. The Native Americans The Native Americans were the original settlers of the United States of America. Relevant sources indicate that they enabled undetectable communication during the World War II using their native language. As pertains to name, the Native Americans are recognized as the first settlers of the United States. However, they account for a small population percentage of about 1 percent. The Native Americans culture show dissimilar practices in all other nations. In particular, those living on reservations show dissimilar cultures from the ones not living on reservations; however, some similarities may exist in their heritage and traditions. The Native Americans fascinate me with their incredible lifestyle such as them living in tepees and their spiritualism. 6. The Bahamian American The Bahamian American migrated into the United States from the Caribbean during the late 19th century in search for job offers in the agricultural sector. The Bahamian American has an extremely low population of about 40,000 people. Hence, it accounts for approximately 0. 01 percent of the whole population. Bahamian Americans preserved their cultural heritage; hence, have a distinguished way of living and culture. The Bahamian way of living and cultural heritage provides an excellent measure of modern living from historical setting. Their cultural practices are engaging. Part II: Analysis Basing on the above listed ethnic groups, several beneficial values that helped to shape the United States lifestyle can be described. In particular, the brief summaries have given the clear picture of Multiculturalism in the United States in relation to the origin. The United States, for that matter, is captured as a multicultural society that is open to all people with different backgrounds. From an early time, several groups started moving into the region due to various reasons, which allowed for the development of a culturally diverse society. Hence, the United States substantially benefited from the cultural diversity as improved workforce was available for the various work scenarios. Despite the obvious benefits of multiculturalism in the society, some negative forms such as racism, stereotypes, prejudice, and discrimination flourished over several years. In the recent past, for example, several ethnic groups such as the African American, Hispanic, and Indian Americans have continually suffered racism, discrimination, and being depicted in certain stereotypes. Firstly, segregation between the Whites and Blacks was a key characteristic of the population before the rise of the civil rights during the 1950s and over. Workplaces, schools, commuter busses, and residential areas were segregated between the two groups until in 1954 when segregation in schools was banned. As a result, people started integrating on a multicultural perspective, which led to the realization of better performances and solutions for the workplaces. Besides the significant leap ahead, other factors such as prejudice and stereotyping still exist at the current date. For instance, the African American and Hispanic groups have been stereotyped in the villainous characters such as gangsters, robbers and the like for several decades. Such beliefs have existed for several years and are even a common occurrence in media the same way. Hand in hand, prejudice has also resulted from the occurrences. Therefore, prejudice and stereotypes are a normal situation in the culturally diverse environment of the United States. However, the multicultural nature of the country’s population resulted in some positive factors such as creation of a multicultural workforce that can meet the requirements of the target population in an effective manner. In connection to that, all the ethnic groups in the American landscape are subject to some positive, as well as, negative aspects of the cultural diversity. As a result, prejudice, stereotypes, racism, and discrimination that were once extremely high have considerably low effects on the modern and socially active populations. In conclusion, the United States still leads with regards to the benefits of cultural diversity among its people. Part III: Sources Holland, C. (2006). Ethnic and Religious Diversity in Central America: An Historical Perspective. Retrieved November 12, 2011 from the Prolades Website: http://www. prolades. com/Ethnic_Religious_Diversity_CAM-Holland. pdf Kenyon, A. (2005). The Importance of Diversity in the Workplace. Retrieved November 11, 2011 from the Leading Today Website: http://www. leading today. org/Onmag/2005%20Archives/may05/ak-may05. html Reference List Holland, C. (2006). Ethnic and Religious Diversity in Central America: An Historical Perspective Retrieved November 12, 2011 from the Prolades Website: http://www. prolades. com/Ethnic_Religious_Diversity_CAM-Holland. pdf Kenyon, A. (2005). The Importance of Diversity in the Workplace Retrieved November 11, 2011 from the Leading Today Website: http://www. leading today. org/Onmag/2005%20Archives/may05/ak-may05. html

Thursday, November 7, 2019

WORDPLAY

WORDPLAY Play-on-words is a literary technique that makes the words the main subjects for the purpose of amusement or some particular effect. Hashtag: #ReplaceALetterRuinATvShow Literary A wordplay is a form of humorous writing. It is a literary technique for entertaining readers by manipulating the sounds and meaning of words. Characterized by ambiguity, wordplay is also a form of creative linguistic that takes advantage of words with similar meanings to grab attention. CONNECTING WORDS AND PHRASES A pun is a subtype of wordplay that uses a word (one-word puns) or group of words (compound puns) with several meanings or a  sound to make it funny. A good example is funny puns using compound puns or replacing two or more words to change their meaning such as â€Å"Santa’s helpers are subordinate Clauses†. When a writer substitutes a word with another similar-sounding word, the result is homophonic puns. For example,â€Å"The butcher refused to accept my challenge that his knife was dull because the steaks were too high†. In contrast, when the writer uses a word with two different meanings, the resulting puns are homographic puns such as â€Å"Yes, he is the same optometrist who fell into a lens grinder and made a spectacle of himself†. There are also funny animals puns such as  Ã¢â‚¬Å"A horse is a very stable animal†. Funny Puns in Classrooms and in the Internet The pun is a  type of wordplay that many authors and poets create to bring fun to the classroom. Since humor is a good motivator, wordplay enriched books and make schoolchildren interested in language and vocabulary. Teachers used wordplay in the classroom to encourage students to expand their vocabulary and challenge their belief about the meaning of the words. Wordplay also helps students see the connection between words. Wordplay extends beyond the classroom to the Internet. Various funny puns are all over the Web bringing a smile to everyone’s face. One-letter puns challenge from social media user #ReplaceALetterRuinATvShow to replace a letter of a TV show title was accepted by fellow users and many are quite good with vocabulary. For example: â€Å"Price is Right† to â€Å"Prick is Right† â€Å"Dr. Who† to â€Å"Dr. Why† â€Å"America’s Top Model† to â€Å"America’s Top Modem† There are puns about technology, puns created by Internet geeks, 15 most hilarious puns, clean and dirty puns, and banned puns that allegedly breached China’s law on standard spoken and written Chinese. However, the fun with puns continues with more clever puns such as: â€Å"People who say they from constipation are full of shit† â€Å"Never trust atoms, they make up everything† â€Å"The person who invented the door knock won the No-bell prize† Wordplay and its popular subtype have a number of beneficial applications. Aside from expanding classroom vocabulary, enhancing the motivation of language learners, and creating a word-rich classroom, English literature masters extensively used the literary technique in their plays and poetry. William Shakespeare, for instance, used wordplay to produce various, life-like representation of a complex human personality. Hebrew Bible writers frequently obscure the true meaning of God messages using wordplay. Wordplay nowadays is widely used in product advertising tagline to draw the attention of readers. Advertisers make good use of wordplay such as: â€Å"Thirst come, thirst served† of Coca-Cola in 1932 â€Å"Put a Tiger in Your Tank† of  Exxon If you need assistance with essay writing feel free to contact our support team or place an order right now and we will gladly help you.

Monday, November 4, 2019

A Dirty Job Chapter 12

Romano was the poundee, Charlie could tell because he’d put a dot of nail polish between his little ears so he could tell it apart from its companion, Parmesan, who was equally stiff inside the plastic Habitrail box. In the bottom of the exercise wheel, actually. Dead at the wheel. â€Å"Mrs. Ling!† Charlie called. He pried the expired rodent from his darling daughter’s little hand and dropped it in the cage. â€Å"Is Vladlena, Mr. Asher,† came a giant voice from the bathroom. There was a flush and Mrs. Korjev emerged from the bathroom pulling at the clasps of her overalls. â€Å"I’m sorry, I am having to crap like bear. Sophie was safe in chair.† â€Å"She was playing with a dead hamster, Mrs. Korjev.† Mrs. Korjev looked at the two hamsters in the plastic Habitrail box – gave it a little tap, shook it back and forth. â€Å"They sleep.† â€Å"They are not sleeping, they’re dead.† â€Å"They are fine when I go in bathroom. Playing, running on wheel, having laugh.† â€Å"They were not having a laugh. They were dead. Sophie had one in her hand.† Charlie looked more closely at the rodent that Sophie had been tenderizing. Its head looked extremely wet. â€Å"In her mouth. She had it in her mouth.† He grabbed a paper towel from the roll on the counter and started wiping out the inside of Sophie’s mouth. She made a la-la-la sound as she tried to eat the towel, which she thought was part of the game. â€Å"Where is Mrs. Ling, anyway?† â€Å"She have to go pick up prescription, so I watch Sophie for short time. And tiny bears are happy when I go in bathroom.† â€Å"Hamsters, Mrs. Korjev, not bears. How long were you in there?† â€Å"Maybe five minute. I am thinking I am now having a strain in my poop chute, so hard I am pushing.† â€Å"Aiiiiieeeee,† came the cry from the doorway as Mrs. Ling returned, and scampered to Sophie. â€Å"Is past time for nap,† Mrs. Ling snapped at Mrs. Korjev. â€Å"I’ve got her now,† Charlie said. â€Å"One of you stay with her while I get rid of the H-A-M-S-T-E-R-S.† â€Å"He mean the tiny bears,† said Mrs. Korjev. â€Å"I get rid, Mr. Asher,† said Mrs. Ling. â€Å"No problem. What happen them?† â€Å"Sleeping,† said Mrs. Korjev. â€Å"Ladies, go. Please. I’ll see one of you in the morning.† â€Å"Is my turn,† said Mrs. Korjev sadly. â€Å"Am I banish? Is no Sophie for Vladlena, yes?† â€Å"No. Uh, yes. It’s fine, Mrs. Korjev. I’ll see you in the morning.† Mrs. Ling was shaking the Habitrail cage. They certainly were sound little sleepers, these hamsters. She liked ham. â€Å"I take care,† she said. She tucked the cage under her arm and backed toward the door, waving. â€Å"Bye-bye, Sophie. Bye-bye.† â€Å"Bye-bye, bubeleh,† said Mrs. Korjev. â€Å"Bye-bye,† Sophie said, with a baby wave. â€Å"When did you learn bye-bye?† Charlie said to his daughter. â€Å"I can’t leave you for a second.† But he did leave her the very next day, to find replacements for the hamsters. He took the cargo van to the pet store this time. Whatever courage or hubris he’d rallied in order to attack the sewer harpies had melted away, and he didn’t even want to go near a storm drain. At the pet store he picked out two painted turtles, each about as big around as a mayonnaise-jar lid. He bought them a large kidney-shaped dish that had its own little island, a plastic palm tree, some aquatic plants, and a snail. The snail, presumably, to bolster the self-esteem of the turtles: â€Å"You think we’re slow? Look at that guy.† To shore up the snail’s morale in the same way, there was a rock. Everyone is happier if they have someone to look down on, as well as someone to look up to, especially if they resent both. This is not only the Beta Male strategy for survival, but the basis for capitalism, democracy, and most religions. After he grilled the clerk for fifteen minutes on the vitality of the turtles, and was assured that they could probably survive a nuclear attack as long as there were some bugs left to eat, Charlie wrote a check and started tearing up over his turtles. â€Å"Are you okay, Mr. Asher?† asked the pet-shop guy. â€Å"I’m sorry,† Charlie said. â€Å"It’s just that this is the last entry in the register.† â€Å"And your bank didn’t give you a new one?† â€Å"No, I have a new one, but this is the last one that my wife wrote in. Now that this one is used up, I’ll never see her handwriting in the check register again.† â€Å"I’m sorry,† said the pet-shop guy, who, until that moment, had thought the rough patch that day was going to be consoling a guy over a couple of dead hamsters. â€Å"It’s not your problem,† Charlie said. â€Å"I’ll just take my turtles and go.† And he did, squeezing the check register in his hand as he drove. She was slipping away, every day a little more. A week ago Jane had come down to borrow some honey and found the plum jelly that Rachel liked in the back of the refrigerator, covered in green fuzz. â€Å"Little brother, this has got to go,† Jane said, making a face. â€Å"No. It was Rachel’s.† â€Å"I know, kid, and she’s not coming back for it. What else do you – oh my God!† She dove away from the fridge. â€Å"What was that?† â€Å"Lasagna. Rachel made it.† â€Å"This has been in here for over a year?† â€Å"I couldn’t make myself throw it out.† â€Å"Look, I’m coming over Saturday and cleaning out this apartment. I’m going to get rid of all the stuff of Rachel’s that you don’t want.† â€Å"I want it all.† Jane paused while moving the green-and-purple lasagna to the trash bin, pan and all. â€Å"No you don’t, Charlie. This kind of stuff doesn’t help you remember Rachel, it just hurts you. You need to focus on Sophie and the rest of both of your lives. You’re a young guy, you can’t give up. We all loved Rachel, but you have to think about moving on, maybe going out.† â€Å"I’m not ready. And you can’t come over this Saturday, that’s my day in the shop.† â€Å"I know,† Jane said. â€Å"It’s better if you’re not here.† â€Å"But you can’t be trusted, Jane,† Charlie said, as if that was as obvious as the fact that Jane was irritating. â€Å"You’ll throw out all the pieces of Rachel, and you’ll steal my clothes.† Jane had been swiping Charlie’s suits pretty regularly since he’d started dressing more upscale. She was wearing a tailored, double-breasted jacket that he’d just gotten back from Three Fingered Hu a few days ago. Charlie hadn’t even worn it yet. â€Å"Why are you still wearing suits, anyway? Isn’t your new girlfriend a yoga instructor? Shouldn’t you be wearing those baggy pants made out of hemp and tofu fibers like she does? You look like David Bowie, Jane. There, I’ve said it. I’m sorry, but it had to be said.† Jane put her arm around his shoulder and kissed him on the cheek. â€Å"You are so sweet. Bowie is the only man I’ve ever found attractive. Let me clean out your apartment. I’ll watch Sophie that day – give the widows a day to do battle down at the Everything for a Dollar Store.† â€Å"Okay, but just clothes and stuff, no pictures. And just put it in the basement in boxes, no throwing anything away.† â€Å"Even food items? Chuck, the lasagna, I mean – â€Å" â€Å"Okay, food items can go. But don’t let Sophie know what you’re doing. And leave Rachel’s perfume, and her hairbrush. I want Sophie to know what her mother smelled like.† That night, when he finished at the shop, he went down to the basement to the little gated storage area for his apartment and visited the boxes of all of the things that Jane had packed up. When that didn’t work, he opened them and said good-bye to every single item – pieces of Rachel. Seemed like he was always saying good-bye to pieces of Rachel. On his way home from the pet shop he had stopped at A Clean, Well-Lighted Place for Books because it, too, was a piece of Rachel and he needed a touchstone, but also because he needed to research what he was doing. He’d scoured the Internet for information on death, and while he’d found that there were a lot of people who wanted to dress like death, get naked with the dead, look at pictures of the naked and the dead, or sell pills to give erections to the dead, there just wasn’t anything on how to go about being dead, or Death. No one had ever heard of Death Merchants or sewer harpies or anything of the sort. He left the store with a two-foot-high stack of books on Death and Dying, figuring, as a Beta Male typically does, that before he tried to take the battle to the enemy again, he’d better find out something about what he was dealing with. That evening he settled in on the couch next to his baby daughter and read while the new turtles, Bruiser and Jeep (so named in hope of instilling durability in them), ate freeze-dried bugs and watched CSI Safari-land on cable. â€Å"Well, honey, according to this Kbler-Ross lady, the five stages of death are anger, denial, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. Well, we went through all of those stages when we lost Mommy, didn’t we?† â€Å"Mama,† Sophie said. The first time she had said â€Å"Mama† had brought Charlie to tears. He had been looking over her little shoulder at a picture of Rachel. The second time she said it, it was less emotional. She was in her high chair at the breakfast bar and was talking to the toaster. â€Å"That’s not Mommy, Soph, that’s the toaster.† â€Å"Mama,† Sophie insisted, reaching out for the toaster. â€Å"You’re just trying to fuck with me, aren’t you?† Charlie said. â€Å"Mama,† Sophie said to the fridge. â€Å"Swell,† Charlie said. He read on, realizing that Dr. Kbler-Ross had been exactly right. Every morning when he woke up to find another name and number in the day planner at his bedside, he went through the entire five-step process before he finished breakfast. But now that the steps had a name – he started to recognize the stages as experienced by the family members of his clients. That’s how he referred to the people whose souls he retrieved: clients. Then he read a book, called The Last Sack, about how to kill yourself with a plastic bag, but it must not have been a very effective book, because he saw on the back cover that there had been two sequels. He imagined the fan mail: Dear Last Sack Author: I was almost dead, but then my sack got all steamed up and I couldn’t see the TV, so I poked an eyehole. I hope to try again with your next book. The book really didn’t help Charlie much, except to instill in him a new paranoia about plastic bags. Over the next few months he read: The Egyptian Book of the Dead, from which he learned how to pull someone’s brain out through his nostril with a buttonhook, which he was sure would come in handy someday; a dozen books on dealing with death, grief, burial rituals, and myths of the Underworld, from which he learned that there had been personifications of Death since the dawn of time, and none of them looked like him; and the Tibetan Book of the Dead, from which he learned that bardo, the transition between this life and the next, was forty-nine days long, and that during the process you would be met by about thirty thousand demons, all of which were described in intricate detail, none of which looked like the sewer harpies, and all of which you were supposed to ignore and not be afraid of because they weren’t real because they were of the material world. â€Å"Strange,† Charlie said to Sophie, â€Å"how all of these books talk about how the material world isn’t significant, yet I have to retrieve people’s souls, which are attached to material objects. It would appear that death, if nothing else, is ironic, don’t you think?† â€Å"No,† Sophie said. At eighteen months Sophie answered all questions either â€Å"No,† â€Å"Cookie,† or â€Å"like Bear† – the last Charlie attributed to leaving his daughter too often in the care of Mrs. Korjev. After the turtles, two more hamsters, a hermit crab, an iguana, and two widemouthed frogs passed on to the great wok in the sky (or, more accurately, on the third floor), Charlie finally acquiesced and brought home a three-inch-long Madagascar hissing cockroach that he named Bear, just so his daughter wouldn’t go through life talking total nonsense. â€Å"Like Bear,† Sophie said. â€Å"She’s talking about the bug,† Charlie said, one night when Jane stopped by. â€Å"She’s not talking about the bug,† Jane said. â€Å"What kind of father buys a cockroach for a little girl anyway? That’s disgusting.† â€Å"Nothing’s supposed to be able to kill them. They’ve been around for like a hundred million years. It was that or a white shark, and they’re supposed to be hard to keep.† â€Å"Why don’t you give up, Charlie? Just let her get by with stuffed animals.† â€Å"A little kid should have a pet. Especially a little kid growing up in the city.† â€Å"We grew up in the city and we didn’t have any pets.† â€Å"I know, and look how we turned out,† Charlie said, gesturing back and forth between the two of them, one who dealt in death and had a giant cockroach named Bear, and the other who was on her third yoga-instructor girlfriend in six months and was wearing his newest Harris tweed suit. â€Å"We turned out great, or at least one of us did,† Jane said, gesturing to the splendor of her suit, like she was a game-show model giving the big prize package on Let’s Get Androgynous, â€Å"You have got to gain some weight. This is tailored way too tight in the butt,† she said, lapsing once again into self-obsession. â€Å"Am I camel-toeing?† â€Å"I am not looking, not looking, not looking,† Charlie chanted. â€Å"She wouldn’t need pets if she ever saw the outside of this apartment,† Jane said, pulling down on the crotch of her trousers to counteract the dreaded dromedary-digit effect. â€Å"Take her to the zoo, Charlie. Let her see something besides this apartment. Take her out.† â€Å"I will, tomorrow. I’ll take her out and show her the city,† Charlie said. And he would have, too, except he woke to find the name Madeline Alby written on his day planner, and next to her name, the number one. Oh yeah, and the cockroach was dead. I will take you out,† Charlie said as he put Sophie in her high chair for breakfast. â€Å"I will, honey. I promise. Can you believe that they’d only give me one day?† â€Å"No,† Sophie said. â€Å"Juice,† she added, because she was in her chair and this was juice time. â€Å"I’m sorry about Bear, honey,† Charlie said, brushing her hair this way, then that, then giving up. â€Å"He was a good bug, but he is no more. Mrs. Ling will bury him. That window box of hers must be getting pretty crowded.† He didn’t remember there being a window box in Mrs. Ling’s window, but who was he to question? Charlie threw open the phone book and, mercifully, found an M. Alby with an address on Telegraph Hill – not ten minutes’ walk away. No client had ever been this close, and with almost six months without a peep or a shade from the sewer harpies, he was starting to feel like he had this whole Death Merchant thing under control. He’d even placed most of the soul vessels that he’d collected. The short notice felt bad. Really bad. The house was an Italianate Victorian on the hill just below the Coit Tower, the great granite column built in honor of the San Francisco firemen who had lost their lives in the line of duty. Although it’s said to have been designed with a fire-hose nozzle in mind, almost no one who sees the tower can resist the urge to comment on its resemblance to a giant penis. Madeline Alby’s house, a flat-roofed white rectangle with ornate scrolling trim and a crowning cornice of carved cherubs, looked like a wedding cake balanced on the tower’s scrotum. So as Charlie trudged up the nut sack of San Francisco, he wondered exactly how he was going to get inside the house. Usually he had time, he could wait and follow someone in, or construct some kind of ruse to gain entrance, but this time he had only one day to get inside, find the soul vessel, and get out. He hoped that Madeline Alby had already died. He really didn’t like being around sick people. When he saw the car parked out front with the small green hospice sticker, his hopes for a dead client were smashed like a cupcake with a sledgehammer. He walked up the front porch steps at the left of the house and waited by the door. Could he open it himself? Would people be able to see it, or did his special â€Å"unnoticeability† extend to objects he moved as well? He didn’t think so. But then the door opened and a woman about Charlie’s age stepped out onto the porch. â€Å"I’m just having a smoke,† she called back into the house, and before she could close the door behind her, Charlie slipped inside. The front door opened into a foyer; to his right Charlie saw what had originally been the parlor. There was a stairway in front of him, and another door beyond that that he guessed led to the kitchen. He could hear voices in the parlor and peeked around the corner to see four elderly women sitting on two couches that faced each other. They were in dresses and hats, and they might have just come from church, but Charlie guessed they had come to see their friend off. â€Å"You’d think she’d give up the smoking, with her mother upstairs dying of cancer,† said one of the ladies, wearing a gray skirt and jacket with matching hat, and a large enameled pin in the shape of a Holstein cow. â€Å"Well, she always was a hardheaded girl,† said another, wearing a dress that looked as if it had been made from the same floral material as the couch. â€Å"You know she used to meet with my son Jimmy up in Pioneer Park when they were little.† â€Å"She said she was going to marry him,† said another woman, who looked like a sister of the first. The ladies laughed, whimsy and sadness mixed in their tones. â€Å"Well, I don’t know what she was thinking, he’s as flighty as can be,† said Mom. â€Å"Yeah, and brain damaged,† added the sister. â€Å"Well, yes, he is now.† â€Å"Since the car ran over him,† said Sis. â€Å"Didn’t he run right in front of a car?† asked one of the ladies who had been silent until now. â€Å"No, he ran right into it,† said Mom. â€Å"He was on the drugs then.† She sighed. â€Å"I always said I had one of each – a boy, a girl, and a Jimmy.† They all nodded. This was not the first time this group had done this, Charlie guessed. They were the type that bought sympathy cards in bulk, and every time they heard an ambulance go by they made a note to pick up their black dress from the cleaner’s. â€Å"You know Maddy looked bad,† said the lady in gray. â€Å"Well, she’s dying, sweetheart, that’s what happens.† â€Å"I guess.† Another sigh. The tinkle of ice in glasses. They were all nursing neat little cocktails. Charlie guessed they’d been mixed by the younger woman who was outside smoking. He looked around the room for something that was glowing red. There was an oak rolltop desk in the corner that he’d like to get a look in, but that would have to wait until later. He ducked out of the doorway and into the kitchen, where two men in their late thirties, maybe early forties, were sitting at an oak table, playing Scrabble. â€Å"Is Jenny coming back? It’s her turn.† â€Å"She might have gone up to see Mom with one of the ladies. The hospice nurse is letting them go up one at a time.† â€Å"I just wish it was over. I can’t stand this waiting. I have a family I need to get back to. I’m about to crawl out of my fucking skin.† The older of the two reached across the table and set two tiny blue pills by his brother’s tiles. â€Å"These help.† â€Å"What are they?† â€Å"Time-released morphine.† â€Å"Really?† The younger brother looked alarmed. â€Å"You hardly even feel them, they just sort of take the edge off. Jenny’s been taking them for two weeks.† â€Å"That’s why you guys are taking this so well and I’m a wreck? You guys are stoned on Mom’s pain medication?† â€Å"Yep.† â€Å"I don’t take drugs. Those are drugs. You don’t take drugs.† The older brother sat back in his chair. â€Å"Pain medication, Bill. What are you feeling?† â€Å"No, I’m not taking Mom’s pain meds.† â€Å"Suit yourself.† â€Å"What if she needs them?† â€Å"There’s enough morphine in that room to bring down a Kodiak bear, and if she needs more, then hospice will bring more.† Charlie wanted to shake the younger brother and yell, Take the drugs, you idiot. Maybe it was the benefit of experience. Having now seen this situation happen again and again, families on deathwatch, out of their minds with grief and exhaustion, friends moving in and out of the house like ghosts, saying good-bye or just covering some sort of base so they could say they had been there, so perhaps they wouldn’t have to die alone themselves. Why was none of this in the books of the dead? Why didn’t the instructions tell him about all the pain and confusion he was going to see? â€Å"I’m going to go find Jenny,† said the older brother, â€Å"see if she wants to get something to eat. We can finish the game later if you want.† â€Å"That’s okay, I was losing anyway.† The younger brother gathered up the tiles and put the board away. â€Å"I’m going to go upstairs and see if I can catch a nap, tonight’s my night watching Mom.† The older brother walked out and Charlie watched the younger brother drop the blue pills into his shirt pocket and leave the kitchen, leaving the Death Dealer to ransack the pantry and the cabinets looking for the soul vessel. But he felt before he even started that it wouldn’t be there. He was going to have to go upstairs. He really, really hated being around sick people. Madeline Alby was propped up and tucked into bed with a down comforter up around her neck. She was so slight that her body barely showed under the covers. Charlie guessed that she might weigh seventy or eighty pounds max. Her face was drawn and he could see the outlines of her eye sockets and her jawbone jutting through her skin, which had gone yellow. Charlie guessed liver cancer. One of her friends from downstairs was sitting at her bedside, the hospice-care worker, a big woman in scrubs, sat in a chair across the room, reading. A small dog, a Yorkshire terrier, Charlie thought, was snuggled up between Madeline’s shoulder and her neck, sleeping. When Charlie stepped into the room, Madeline said, â€Å"Hey there, kid.† He froze in his steps. She was looking right at him – crystal-blue eyes, and a smile. Had the floor squeaked? Had he bumped something? â€Å"What are you doing there, kid?† She giggled. â€Å"Who do you see, Maddy?† asked the friend. She followed Madeline’s gaze but looked right through Charlie. â€Å"A kid over there.† â€Å"Okay, Maddy. Do you want some water?† The friend reached for a child’s sippy cup with a built-in straw from the nightstand. â€Å"No. Tell that kid to come in here, though. Come in here, kid.† Madeline worked her arms out of the covers and started moving her hands in sewing motions, like she was embroidering a tapestry in the air before her. â€Å"Well, I’d better go,† said the friend. â€Å"Let you get some rest.† The friend glanced at the hospice woman, who looked over her reading glasses and smiled with her eyes. The only expert in the house, giving permission. The friend stood and kissed Madeline Alby on the forehead. Madeline stopped sewing for a second, closed her eyes, and leaned into the kiss, like a young girl. Her friend squeezed her hand and said, â€Å"Good-bye, Maddy.† Charlie stepped aside and let the woman pass. He watched her shoulders heave with a sob as she went through the door. â€Å"Hey, kid,† Madeline said. â€Å"Come over here and sit down.† She paused in her sewing long enough to look Charlie in the eye, which freaked him out more than a little. He glanced at the hospice worker, who glanced up from her book, then went back to reading. Charlie pointed to himself. â€Å"Yeah, you,† Madeline said. Charlie was going into a panic. She could see him, but the hospice nurse could not, or so it seemed. An alarm beeped on the nurse’s watch and Madeline picked up the little dog and held it to her ear. â€Å"Hello? Hi, how are you?† She looked up at Charlie. â€Å"It’s my oldest daughter.† The little dog looked at Charlie, too, with a distinct â€Å"save me† look in its eyes. â€Å"Time for some medicine, Madeline,† the nurse said. â€Å"Can’t you see I’m on the phone, Sally,† Madeline said. â€Å"Hang on a second.† â€Å"Okay, I’ll wait,† the nurse said. She picked up a brown bottle with an eyedropper in it, filled the dropper, and checked the dosage and held. â€Å"Bye. Love you, too,† Madeline said. She held the tiny dog out to Charlie. â€Å"Hang that up, would you?† The nurse snatched the dog out of the air and set it down on the bed next to Madeline. â€Å"Open up, Madeline,† the nurse said. Madeline opened wide and the nurse squirted the eyedropper into the old woman’s mouth. â€Å"Mmm, strawberry,† Madeline said. â€Å"That’s right, strawberry. Would you like to wash it down with some water?† The nurse held the sippy cup. â€Å"No. Cheese. I’d like some cheese.† â€Å"I can get you some cheese,† said the nurse. â€Å"Cheddar cheese.† â€Å"Cheddar it is,† said the nurse. â€Å"I’ll be right back.† She tucked the covers around Madeline and left the room. The old woman looked at Charlie again. â€Å"Can you talk, now that she’s gone?† Charlie shrugged and looked in every direction, his hand over his mouth, like someone looking for an emergency spot to spit out a mouthful of bad seafood. â€Å"Don’t mime, honey,† Madeline said. â€Å"No one likes a mime.† Charlie sighed heavily, what was there to lose now? She could see him. â€Å"Hello, Madeline. I’m Charlie.† â€Å"I always liked the name Charlie,† Madeline said. â€Å"How come Sally can’t see you?† â€Å"Only you can see me right now,† Charlie said. â€Å"Because I’m dying?† â€Å"I think so.† â€Å"Okay. You’re a nice-looking kid, you know that?† â€Å"Thanks. You’re not bad yourself.† â€Å"I’m scared, Charlie. It doesn’t hurt. I used to be afraid that it would hurt, but now I’m afraid of what happens next.† Charlie sat down on the chair next to the bed. â€Å"I think that’s why I’m here, Madeline, you don’t need to be afraid.† â€Å"I drank a lot of brandy, Charlie. That’s why this happened.† â€Å"Maddy – can I call you Maddy?† â€Å"Sure, kid, we’re friends.† â€Å"Yes, we are. Maddy, this was always going to happen. You didn’t do anything to cause it.† â€Å"Well, that’s good.† â€Å"Maddy, do you have something for me?† â€Å"Like a present?† â€Å"Like a present you would give to yourself. Something I can keep for you and give you back later, when it will be a surprise.† â€Å"My pincushion,† Madeline said. â€Å"I’d like you to have that. It was my grandmother’s.† â€Å"I’d be honored to keep that for you, Maddy. Where can I find it?† â€Å"In my sewing box, on the top shelf of that closet.† She pointed to an old-style single closet across the room. â€Å"Oh, excuse me, phone.† Madeline talked to her oldest daughter on the edge of the comforter while Charlie got the sewing box from the top shelf of the closet. It was made of wicker and he could see the red glow of the soul vessel inside. He removed a pincushion fashioned from red velvet wrapped with bands of real silver and held it up for Madeline to see. She smiled and gave him the thumbs-up, just as the nurse returned with a small plate of cheese and crackers. â€Å"It’s my oldest daughter,† Madeline explained to the nurse, holding the edge of the comforter to her chest so her daughter didn’t hear. â€Å"Oh my, is that cheese?† The nurse nodded. â€Å"And crackers.† â€Å"I’ll call you back, honey, Sally has brought cheese and I don’t want to be rude.† She hung up the sheet and allowed Sally to feed her bites of cheese and crackers. â€Å"I believe this is the best cheese I’ve ever tasted,† Madeline said. Charlie could tell from the expression on her face that it was, indeed, the best cheese she had ever tasted. Every ounce of her being was going into tasting those slivers of cheddar, and she let loose little moans of pleasure as she chewed. â€Å"You want some cheese, Charlie?† Madeline asked, spraying cracker shrapnel all over the nurse, who turned to look at the corner where Charlie was standing with the pincushion tucked safely in his jacket pocket. â€Å"Oh, you can’t see him, Sally,† Madeline said, tapping the nurse on the hand. â€Å"But he’s a handsome rascal. A little skinny, though.† Then, to Sally, but overly loud to be sure that Charlie could hear: â€Å"He could use some fucking cheese.† Then she laughed, spraying more crackers on the nurse, who was laughing, too, and trying not to dump the plate. â€Å"What did she say?† came a voice from the hall. Then the two sons and the daughter entered, chagrined at first at what they had heard, but then laughing with the nurse and their mother. â€Å"I said that cheese is good,† Madeline said. â€Å"Yeah, Mom, it is,† said the daughter. Charlie stood there in the corner, watching them eat cheese, and laughing, thinking, This should have been in the book. He watched them help her with her bedpan, and give her drinks of water, and wipe her face with a damp cloth – watched her bite at the cloth the way Sophie did when he washed her face. The eldest daughter, who Charlie realized had been dead for some time, called three more times, once on the dog and twice on the pillow. Around lunchtime Madeline was tired, and she went to sleep, and about a half hour into her nap she started panting, then stopped, then didn’t breathe for a full minute, then took a deep breath, then didn’t. And Charlie slipped out the door with her soul in his pocket. A Dirty Job Chapter 12 Romano was the poundee, Charlie could tell because he’d put a dot of nail polish between his little ears so he could tell it apart from its companion, Parmesan, who was equally stiff inside the plastic Habitrail box. In the bottom of the exercise wheel, actually. Dead at the wheel. â€Å"Mrs. Ling!† Charlie called. He pried the expired rodent from his darling daughter’s little hand and dropped it in the cage. â€Å"Is Vladlena, Mr. Asher,† came a giant voice from the bathroom. There was a flush and Mrs. Korjev emerged from the bathroom pulling at the clasps of her overalls. â€Å"I’m sorry, I am having to crap like bear. Sophie was safe in chair.† â€Å"She was playing with a dead hamster, Mrs. Korjev.† Mrs. Korjev looked at the two hamsters in the plastic Habitrail box – gave it a little tap, shook it back and forth. â€Å"They sleep.† â€Å"They are not sleeping, they’re dead.† â€Å"They are fine when I go in bathroom. Playing, running on wheel, having laugh.† â€Å"They were not having a laugh. They were dead. Sophie had one in her hand.† Charlie looked more closely at the rodent that Sophie had been tenderizing. Its head looked extremely wet. â€Å"In her mouth. She had it in her mouth.† He grabbed a paper towel from the roll on the counter and started wiping out the inside of Sophie’s mouth. She made a la-la-la sound as she tried to eat the towel, which she thought was part of the game. â€Å"Where is Mrs. Ling, anyway?† â€Å"She have to go pick up prescription, so I watch Sophie for short time. And tiny bears are happy when I go in bathroom.† â€Å"Hamsters, Mrs. Korjev, not bears. How long were you in there?† â€Å"Maybe five minute. I am thinking I am now having a strain in my poop chute, so hard I am pushing.† â€Å"Aiiiiieeeee,† came the cry from the doorway as Mrs. Ling returned, and scampered to Sophie. â€Å"Is past time for nap,† Mrs. Ling snapped at Mrs. Korjev. â€Å"I’ve got her now,† Charlie said. â€Å"One of you stay with her while I get rid of the H-A-M-S-T-E-R-S.† â€Å"He mean the tiny bears,† said Mrs. Korjev. â€Å"I get rid, Mr. Asher,† said Mrs. Ling. â€Å"No problem. What happen them?† â€Å"Sleeping,† said Mrs. Korjev. â€Å"Ladies, go. Please. I’ll see one of you in the morning.† â€Å"Is my turn,† said Mrs. Korjev sadly. â€Å"Am I banish? Is no Sophie for Vladlena, yes?† â€Å"No. Uh, yes. It’s fine, Mrs. Korjev. I’ll see you in the morning.† Mrs. Ling was shaking the Habitrail cage. They certainly were sound little sleepers, these hamsters. She liked ham. â€Å"I take care,† she said. She tucked the cage under her arm and backed toward the door, waving. â€Å"Bye-bye, Sophie. Bye-bye.† â€Å"Bye-bye, bubeleh,† said Mrs. Korjev. â€Å"Bye-bye,† Sophie said, with a baby wave. â€Å"When did you learn bye-bye?† Charlie said to his daughter. â€Å"I can’t leave you for a second.† But he did leave her the very next day, to find replacements for the hamsters. He took the cargo van to the pet store this time. Whatever courage or hubris he’d rallied in order to attack the sewer harpies had melted away, and he didn’t even want to go near a storm drain. At the pet store he picked out two painted turtles, each about as big around as a mayonnaise-jar lid. He bought them a large kidney-shaped dish that had its own little island, a plastic palm tree, some aquatic plants, and a snail. The snail, presumably, to bolster the self-esteem of the turtles: â€Å"You think we’re slow? Look at that guy.† To shore up the snail’s morale in the same way, there was a rock. Everyone is happier if they have someone to look down on, as well as someone to look up to, especially if they resent both. This is not only the Beta Male strategy for survival, but the basis for capitalism, democracy, and most religions. After he grilled the clerk for fifteen minutes on the vitality of the turtles, and was assured that they could probably survive a nuclear attack as long as there were some bugs left to eat, Charlie wrote a check and started tearing up over his turtles. â€Å"Are you okay, Mr. Asher?† asked the pet-shop guy. â€Å"I’m sorry,† Charlie said. â€Å"It’s just that this is the last entry in the register.† â€Å"And your bank didn’t give you a new one?† â€Å"No, I have a new one, but this is the last one that my wife wrote in. Now that this one is used up, I’ll never see her handwriting in the check register again.† â€Å"I’m sorry,† said the pet-shop guy, who, until that moment, had thought the rough patch that day was going to be consoling a guy over a couple of dead hamsters. â€Å"It’s not your problem,† Charlie said. â€Å"I’ll just take my turtles and go.† And he did, squeezing the check register in his hand as he drove. She was slipping away, every day a little more. A week ago Jane had come down to borrow some honey and found the plum jelly that Rachel liked in the back of the refrigerator, covered in green fuzz. â€Å"Little brother, this has got to go,† Jane said, making a face. â€Å"No. It was Rachel’s.† â€Å"I know, kid, and she’s not coming back for it. What else do you – oh my God!† She dove away from the fridge. â€Å"What was that?† â€Å"Lasagna. Rachel made it.† â€Å"This has been in here for over a year?† â€Å"I couldn’t make myself throw it out.† â€Å"Look, I’m coming over Saturday and cleaning out this apartment. I’m going to get rid of all the stuff of Rachel’s that you don’t want.† â€Å"I want it all.† Jane paused while moving the green-and-purple lasagna to the trash bin, pan and all. â€Å"No you don’t, Charlie. This kind of stuff doesn’t help you remember Rachel, it just hurts you. You need to focus on Sophie and the rest of both of your lives. You’re a young guy, you can’t give up. We all loved Rachel, but you have to think about moving on, maybe going out.† â€Å"I’m not ready. And you can’t come over this Saturday, that’s my day in the shop.† â€Å"I know,† Jane said. â€Å"It’s better if you’re not here.† â€Å"But you can’t be trusted, Jane,† Charlie said, as if that was as obvious as the fact that Jane was irritating. â€Å"You’ll throw out all the pieces of Rachel, and you’ll steal my clothes.† Jane had been swiping Charlie’s suits pretty regularly since he’d started dressing more upscale. She was wearing a tailored, double-breasted jacket that he’d just gotten back from Three Fingered Hu a few days ago. Charlie hadn’t even worn it yet. â€Å"Why are you still wearing suits, anyway? Isn’t your new girlfriend a yoga instructor? Shouldn’t you be wearing those baggy pants made out of hemp and tofu fibers like she does? You look like David Bowie, Jane. There, I’ve said it. I’m sorry, but it had to be said.† Jane put her arm around his shoulder and kissed him on the cheek. â€Å"You are so sweet. Bowie is the only man I’ve ever found attractive. Let me clean out your apartment. I’ll watch Sophie that day – give the widows a day to do battle down at the Everything for a Dollar Store.† â€Å"Okay, but just clothes and stuff, no pictures. And just put it in the basement in boxes, no throwing anything away.† â€Å"Even food items? Chuck, the lasagna, I mean – â€Å" â€Å"Okay, food items can go. But don’t let Sophie know what you’re doing. And leave Rachel’s perfume, and her hairbrush. I want Sophie to know what her mother smelled like.† That night, when he finished at the shop, he went down to the basement to the little gated storage area for his apartment and visited the boxes of all of the things that Jane had packed up. When that didn’t work, he opened them and said good-bye to every single item – pieces of Rachel. Seemed like he was always saying good-bye to pieces of Rachel. On his way home from the pet shop he had stopped at A Clean, Well-Lighted Place for Books because it, too, was a piece of Rachel and he needed a touchstone, but also because he needed to research what he was doing. He’d scoured the Internet for information on death, and while he’d found that there were a lot of people who wanted to dress like death, get naked with the dead, look at pictures of the naked and the dead, or sell pills to give erections to the dead, there just wasn’t anything on how to go about being dead, or Death. No one had ever heard of Death Merchants or sewer harpies or anything of the sort. He left the store with a two-foot-high stack of books on Death and Dying, figuring, as a Beta Male typically does, that before he tried to take the battle to the enemy again, he’d better find out something about what he was dealing with. That evening he settled in on the couch next to his baby daughter and read while the new turtles, Bruiser and Jeep (so named in hope of instilling durability in them), ate freeze-dried bugs and watched CSI Safari-land on cable. â€Å"Well, honey, according to this Kbler-Ross lady, the five stages of death are anger, denial, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. Well, we went through all of those stages when we lost Mommy, didn’t we?† â€Å"Mama,† Sophie said. The first time she had said â€Å"Mama† had brought Charlie to tears. He had been looking over her little shoulder at a picture of Rachel. The second time she said it, it was less emotional. She was in her high chair at the breakfast bar and was talking to the toaster. â€Å"That’s not Mommy, Soph, that’s the toaster.† â€Å"Mama,† Sophie insisted, reaching out for the toaster. â€Å"You’re just trying to fuck with me, aren’t you?† Charlie said. â€Å"Mama,† Sophie said to the fridge. â€Å"Swell,† Charlie said. He read on, realizing that Dr. Kbler-Ross had been exactly right. Every morning when he woke up to find another name and number in the day planner at his bedside, he went through the entire five-step process before he finished breakfast. But now that the steps had a name – he started to recognize the stages as experienced by the family members of his clients. That’s how he referred to the people whose souls he retrieved: clients. Then he read a book, called The Last Sack, about how to kill yourself with a plastic bag, but it must not have been a very effective book, because he saw on the back cover that there had been two sequels. He imagined the fan mail: Dear Last Sack Author: I was almost dead, but then my sack got all steamed up and I couldn’t see the TV, so I poked an eyehole. I hope to try again with your next book. The book really didn’t help Charlie much, except to instill in him a new paranoia about plastic bags. Over the next few months he read: The Egyptian Book of the Dead, from which he learned how to pull someone’s brain out through his nostril with a buttonhook, which he was sure would come in handy someday; a dozen books on dealing with death, grief, burial rituals, and myths of the Underworld, from which he learned that there had been personifications of Death since the dawn of time, and none of them looked like him; and the Tibetan Book of the Dead, from which he learned that bardo, the transition between this life and the next, was forty-nine days long, and that during the process you would be met by about thirty thousand demons, all of which were described in intricate detail, none of which looked like the sewer harpies, and all of which you were supposed to ignore and not be afraid of because they weren’t real because they were of the material world. â€Å"Strange,† Charlie said to Sophie, â€Å"how all of these books talk about how the material world isn’t significant, yet I have to retrieve people’s souls, which are attached to material objects. It would appear that death, if nothing else, is ironic, don’t you think?† â€Å"No,† Sophie said. At eighteen months Sophie answered all questions either â€Å"No,† â€Å"Cookie,† or â€Å"like Bear† – the last Charlie attributed to leaving his daughter too often in the care of Mrs. Korjev. After the turtles, two more hamsters, a hermit crab, an iguana, and two widemouthed frogs passed on to the great wok in the sky (or, more accurately, on the third floor), Charlie finally acquiesced and brought home a three-inch-long Madagascar hissing cockroach that he named Bear, just so his daughter wouldn’t go through life talking total nonsense. â€Å"Like Bear,† Sophie said. â€Å"She’s talking about the bug,† Charlie said, one night when Jane stopped by. â€Å"She’s not talking about the bug,† Jane said. â€Å"What kind of father buys a cockroach for a little girl anyway? That’s disgusting.† â€Å"Nothing’s supposed to be able to kill them. They’ve been around for like a hundred million years. It was that or a white shark, and they’re supposed to be hard to keep.† â€Å"Why don’t you give up, Charlie? Just let her get by with stuffed animals.† â€Å"A little kid should have a pet. Especially a little kid growing up in the city.† â€Å"We grew up in the city and we didn’t have any pets.† â€Å"I know, and look how we turned out,† Charlie said, gesturing back and forth between the two of them, one who dealt in death and had a giant cockroach named Bear, and the other who was on her third yoga-instructor girlfriend in six months and was wearing his newest Harris tweed suit. â€Å"We turned out great, or at least one of us did,† Jane said, gesturing to the splendor of her suit, like she was a game-show model giving the big prize package on Let’s Get Androgynous, â€Å"You have got to gain some weight. This is tailored way too tight in the butt,† she said, lapsing once again into self-obsession. â€Å"Am I camel-toeing?† â€Å"I am not looking, not looking, not looking,† Charlie chanted. â€Å"She wouldn’t need pets if she ever saw the outside of this apartment,† Jane said, pulling down on the crotch of her trousers to counteract the dreaded dromedary-digit effect. â€Å"Take her to the zoo, Charlie. Let her see something besides this apartment. Take her out.† â€Å"I will, tomorrow. I’ll take her out and show her the city,† Charlie said. And he would have, too, except he woke to find the name Madeline Alby written on his day planner, and next to her name, the number one. Oh yeah, and the cockroach was dead. I will take you out,† Charlie said as he put Sophie in her high chair for breakfast. â€Å"I will, honey. I promise. Can you believe that they’d only give me one day?† â€Å"No,† Sophie said. â€Å"Juice,† she added, because she was in her chair and this was juice time. â€Å"I’m sorry about Bear, honey,† Charlie said, brushing her hair this way, then that, then giving up. â€Å"He was a good bug, but he is no more. Mrs. Ling will bury him. That window box of hers must be getting pretty crowded.† He didn’t remember there being a window box in Mrs. Ling’s window, but who was he to question? Charlie threw open the phone book and, mercifully, found an M. Alby with an address on Telegraph Hill – not ten minutes’ walk away. No client had ever been this close, and with almost six months without a peep or a shade from the sewer harpies, he was starting to feel like he had this whole Death Merchant thing under control. He’d even placed most of the soul vessels that he’d collected. The short notice felt bad. Really bad. The house was an Italianate Victorian on the hill just below the Coit Tower, the great granite column built in honor of the San Francisco firemen who had lost their lives in the line of duty. Although it’s said to have been designed with a fire-hose nozzle in mind, almost no one who sees the tower can resist the urge to comment on its resemblance to a giant penis. Madeline Alby’s house, a flat-roofed white rectangle with ornate scrolling trim and a crowning cornice of carved cherubs, looked like a wedding cake balanced on the tower’s scrotum. So as Charlie trudged up the nut sack of San Francisco, he wondered exactly how he was going to get inside the house. Usually he had time, he could wait and follow someone in, or construct some kind of ruse to gain entrance, but this time he had only one day to get inside, find the soul vessel, and get out. He hoped that Madeline Alby had already died. He really didn’t like being around sick people. When he saw the car parked out front with the small green hospice sticker, his hopes for a dead client were smashed like a cupcake with a sledgehammer. He walked up the front porch steps at the left of the house and waited by the door. Could he open it himself? Would people be able to see it, or did his special â€Å"unnoticeability† extend to objects he moved as well? He didn’t think so. But then the door opened and a woman about Charlie’s age stepped out onto the porch. â€Å"I’m just having a smoke,† she called back into the house, and before she could close the door behind her, Charlie slipped inside. The front door opened into a foyer; to his right Charlie saw what had originally been the parlor. There was a stairway in front of him, and another door beyond that that he guessed led to the kitchen. He could hear voices in the parlor and peeked around the corner to see four elderly women sitting on two couches that faced each other. They were in dresses and hats, and they might have just come from church, but Charlie guessed they had come to see their friend off. â€Å"You’d think she’d give up the smoking, with her mother upstairs dying of cancer,† said one of the ladies, wearing a gray skirt and jacket with matching hat, and a large enameled pin in the shape of a Holstein cow. â€Å"Well, she always was a hardheaded girl,† said another, wearing a dress that looked as if it had been made from the same floral material as the couch. â€Å"You know she used to meet with my son Jimmy up in Pioneer Park when they were little.† â€Å"She said she was going to marry him,† said another woman, who looked like a sister of the first. The ladies laughed, whimsy and sadness mixed in their tones. â€Å"Well, I don’t know what she was thinking, he’s as flighty as can be,† said Mom. â€Å"Yeah, and brain damaged,† added the sister. â€Å"Well, yes, he is now.† â€Å"Since the car ran over him,† said Sis. â€Å"Didn’t he run right in front of a car?† asked one of the ladies who had been silent until now. â€Å"No, he ran right into it,† said Mom. â€Å"He was on the drugs then.† She sighed. â€Å"I always said I had one of each – a boy, a girl, and a Jimmy.† They all nodded. This was not the first time this group had done this, Charlie guessed. They were the type that bought sympathy cards in bulk, and every time they heard an ambulance go by they made a note to pick up their black dress from the cleaner’s. â€Å"You know Maddy looked bad,† said the lady in gray. â€Å"Well, she’s dying, sweetheart, that’s what happens.† â€Å"I guess.† Another sigh. The tinkle of ice in glasses. They were all nursing neat little cocktails. Charlie guessed they’d been mixed by the younger woman who was outside smoking. He looked around the room for something that was glowing red. There was an oak rolltop desk in the corner that he’d like to get a look in, but that would have to wait until later. He ducked out of the doorway and into the kitchen, where two men in their late thirties, maybe early forties, were sitting at an oak table, playing Scrabble. â€Å"Is Jenny coming back? It’s her turn.† â€Å"She might have gone up to see Mom with one of the ladies. The hospice nurse is letting them go up one at a time.† â€Å"I just wish it was over. I can’t stand this waiting. I have a family I need to get back to. I’m about to crawl out of my fucking skin.† The older of the two reached across the table and set two tiny blue pills by his brother’s tiles. â€Å"These help.† â€Å"What are they?† â€Å"Time-released morphine.† â€Å"Really?† The younger brother looked alarmed. â€Å"You hardly even feel them, they just sort of take the edge off. Jenny’s been taking them for two weeks.† â€Å"That’s why you guys are taking this so well and I’m a wreck? You guys are stoned on Mom’s pain medication?† â€Å"Yep.† â€Å"I don’t take drugs. Those are drugs. You don’t take drugs.† The older brother sat back in his chair. â€Å"Pain medication, Bill. What are you feeling?† â€Å"No, I’m not taking Mom’s pain meds.† â€Å"Suit yourself.† â€Å"What if she needs them?† â€Å"There’s enough morphine in that room to bring down a Kodiak bear, and if she needs more, then hospice will bring more.† Charlie wanted to shake the younger brother and yell, Take the drugs, you idiot. Maybe it was the benefit of experience. Having now seen this situation happen again and again, families on deathwatch, out of their minds with grief and exhaustion, friends moving in and out of the house like ghosts, saying good-bye or just covering some sort of base so they could say they had been there, so perhaps they wouldn’t have to die alone themselves. Why was none of this in the books of the dead? Why didn’t the instructions tell him about all the pain and confusion he was going to see? â€Å"I’m going to go find Jenny,† said the older brother, â€Å"see if she wants to get something to eat. We can finish the game later if you want.† â€Å"That’s okay, I was losing anyway.† The younger brother gathered up the tiles and put the board away. â€Å"I’m going to go upstairs and see if I can catch a nap, tonight’s my night watching Mom.† The older brother walked out and Charlie watched the younger brother drop the blue pills into his shirt pocket and leave the kitchen, leaving the Death Dealer to ransack the pantry and the cabinets looking for the soul vessel. But he felt before he even started that it wouldn’t be there. He was going to have to go upstairs. He really, really hated being around sick people. Madeline Alby was propped up and tucked into bed with a down comforter up around her neck. She was so slight that her body barely showed under the covers. Charlie guessed that she might weigh seventy or eighty pounds max. Her face was drawn and he could see the outlines of her eye sockets and her jawbone jutting through her skin, which had gone yellow. Charlie guessed liver cancer. One of her friends from downstairs was sitting at her bedside, the hospice-care worker, a big woman in scrubs, sat in a chair across the room, reading. A small dog, a Yorkshire terrier, Charlie thought, was snuggled up between Madeline’s shoulder and her neck, sleeping. When Charlie stepped into the room, Madeline said, â€Å"Hey there, kid.† He froze in his steps. She was looking right at him – crystal-blue eyes, and a smile. Had the floor squeaked? Had he bumped something? â€Å"What are you doing there, kid?† She giggled. â€Å"Who do you see, Maddy?† asked the friend. She followed Madeline’s gaze but looked right through Charlie. â€Å"A kid over there.† â€Å"Okay, Maddy. Do you want some water?† The friend reached for a child’s sippy cup with a built-in straw from the nightstand. â€Å"No. Tell that kid to come in here, though. Come in here, kid.† Madeline worked her arms out of the covers and started moving her hands in sewing motions, like she was embroidering a tapestry in the air before her. â€Å"Well, I’d better go,† said the friend. â€Å"Let you get some rest.† The friend glanced at the hospice woman, who looked over her reading glasses and smiled with her eyes. The only expert in the house, giving permission. The friend stood and kissed Madeline Alby on the forehead. Madeline stopped sewing for a second, closed her eyes, and leaned into the kiss, like a young girl. Her friend squeezed her hand and said, â€Å"Good-bye, Maddy.† Charlie stepped aside and let the woman pass. He watched her shoulders heave with a sob as she went through the door. â€Å"Hey, kid,† Madeline said. â€Å"Come over here and sit down.† She paused in her sewing long enough to look Charlie in the eye, which freaked him out more than a little. He glanced at the hospice worker, who glanced up from her book, then went back to reading. Charlie pointed to himself. â€Å"Yeah, you,† Madeline said. Charlie was going into a panic. She could see him, but the hospice nurse could not, or so it seemed. An alarm beeped on the nurse’s watch and Madeline picked up the little dog and held it to her ear. â€Å"Hello? Hi, how are you?† She looked up at Charlie. â€Å"It’s my oldest daughter.† The little dog looked at Charlie, too, with a distinct â€Å"save me† look in its eyes. â€Å"Time for some medicine, Madeline,† the nurse said. â€Å"Can’t you see I’m on the phone, Sally,† Madeline said. â€Å"Hang on a second.† â€Å"Okay, I’ll wait,† the nurse said. She picked up a brown bottle with an eyedropper in it, filled the dropper, and checked the dosage and held. â€Å"Bye. Love you, too,† Madeline said. She held the tiny dog out to Charlie. â€Å"Hang that up, would you?† The nurse snatched the dog out of the air and set it down on the bed next to Madeline. â€Å"Open up, Madeline,† the nurse said. Madeline opened wide and the nurse squirted the eyedropper into the old woman’s mouth. â€Å"Mmm, strawberry,† Madeline said. â€Å"That’s right, strawberry. Would you like to wash it down with some water?† The nurse held the sippy cup. â€Å"No. Cheese. I’d like some cheese.† â€Å"I can get you some cheese,† said the nurse. â€Å"Cheddar cheese.† â€Å"Cheddar it is,† said the nurse. â€Å"I’ll be right back.† She tucked the covers around Madeline and left the room. The old woman looked at Charlie again. â€Å"Can you talk, now that she’s gone?† Charlie shrugged and looked in every direction, his hand over his mouth, like someone looking for an emergency spot to spit out a mouthful of bad seafood. â€Å"Don’t mime, honey,† Madeline said. â€Å"No one likes a mime.† Charlie sighed heavily, what was there to lose now? She could see him. â€Å"Hello, Madeline. I’m Charlie.† â€Å"I always liked the name Charlie,† Madeline said. â€Å"How come Sally can’t see you?† â€Å"Only you can see me right now,† Charlie said. â€Å"Because I’m dying?† â€Å"I think so.† â€Å"Okay. You’re a nice-looking kid, you know that?† â€Å"Thanks. You’re not bad yourself.† â€Å"I’m scared, Charlie. It doesn’t hurt. I used to be afraid that it would hurt, but now I’m afraid of what happens next.† Charlie sat down on the chair next to the bed. â€Å"I think that’s why I’m here, Madeline, you don’t need to be afraid.† â€Å"I drank a lot of brandy, Charlie. That’s why this happened.† â€Å"Maddy – can I call you Maddy?† â€Å"Sure, kid, we’re friends.† â€Å"Yes, we are. Maddy, this was always going to happen. You didn’t do anything to cause it.† â€Å"Well, that’s good.† â€Å"Maddy, do you have something for me?† â€Å"Like a present?† â€Å"Like a present you would give to yourself. Something I can keep for you and give you back later, when it will be a surprise.† â€Å"My pincushion,† Madeline said. â€Å"I’d like you to have that. It was my grandmother’s.† â€Å"I’d be honored to keep that for you, Maddy. Where can I find it?† â€Å"In my sewing box, on the top shelf of that closet.† She pointed to an old-style single closet across the room. â€Å"Oh, excuse me, phone.† Madeline talked to her oldest daughter on the edge of the comforter while Charlie got the sewing box from the top shelf of the closet. It was made of wicker and he could see the red glow of the soul vessel inside. He removed a pincushion fashioned from red velvet wrapped with bands of real silver and held it up for Madeline to see. She smiled and gave him the thumbs-up, just as the nurse returned with a small plate of cheese and crackers. â€Å"It’s my oldest daughter,† Madeline explained to the nurse, holding the edge of the comforter to her chest so her daughter didn’t hear. â€Å"Oh my, is that cheese?† The nurse nodded. â€Å"And crackers.† â€Å"I’ll call you back, honey, Sally has brought cheese and I don’t want to be rude.† She hung up the sheet and allowed Sally to feed her bites of cheese and crackers. â€Å"I believe this is the best cheese I’ve ever tasted,† Madeline said. Charlie could tell from the expression on her face that it was, indeed, the best cheese she had ever tasted. Every ounce of her being was going into tasting those slivers of cheddar, and she let loose little moans of pleasure as she chewed. â€Å"You want some cheese, Charlie?† Madeline asked, spraying cracker shrapnel all over the nurse, who turned to look at the corner where Charlie was standing with the pincushion tucked safely in his jacket pocket. â€Å"Oh, you can’t see him, Sally,† Madeline said, tapping the nurse on the hand. â€Å"But he’s a handsome rascal. A little skinny, though.† Then, to Sally, but overly loud to be sure that Charlie could hear: â€Å"He could use some fucking cheese.† Then she laughed, spraying more crackers on the nurse, who was laughing, too, and trying not to dump the plate. â€Å"What did she say?† came a voice from the hall. Then the two sons and the daughter entered, chagrined at first at what they had heard, but then laughing with the nurse and their mother. â€Å"I said that cheese is good,† Madeline said. â€Å"Yeah, Mom, it is,† said the daughter. Charlie stood there in the corner, watching them eat cheese, and laughing, thinking, This should have been in the book. He watched them help her with her bedpan, and give her drinks of water, and wipe her face with a damp cloth – watched her bite at the cloth the way Sophie did when he washed her face. The eldest daughter, who Charlie realized had been dead for some time, called three more times, once on the dog and twice on the pillow. Around lunchtime Madeline was tired, and she went to sleep, and about a half hour into her nap she started panting, then stopped, then didn’t breathe for a full minute, then took a deep breath, then didn’t. And Charlie slipped out the door with her soul in his pocket.