by Ethan Marsh
A tear rolls from my eye. Then three tears, a sniffle, and then a waterfall exploded out of my eyes, just before the very moment.
I knew it. I knew it all along. He had died. I knew it.
I don't dare make a sound though, keeping the other tents in mind. I put the whole situation in my bag, tossing it away. I did not want to focus on sadness. Why did Henry write that a man is looking for me?
As I am placing the envelope back into my pocket, one of the tents opens. It is a tent very far away from me, almost on the other side of the circle. I hide my face in my hoodie and bury myself quickly in the pile of leaves. The compass still hangs around my neck. Something moves out of the tent and comes closer in my direction. I feel like I am about to scream, cry, yell. Then, I hear no movement at all, and everything was quiet. I stopped breathing, thinking that he or she or it heard me rustle in the pile of leaves. It was so quiet, if earthworms made noise, I would hear them like an earthquake.
“Who's there?” The voice was harsh, demanding, but most of all, fearful. I stay where I am, not a single cell moving in my body.
I freeze, even more than I was just before in the pile of dead, dry leaves. Someone uncovers the leaves that was used as my shield. My shield from the world.
“Young man! What are you doing awake?” a woman's voice says in a hushed tone. I don't say anything, or hear anything.
I scramble to by feet and dash away, looking back to see an elderly lady wearing the nicest of clothes, all made of animal skin. Her face looks rather disappointed. She calls out, I'm not sure if she calls out for something or someone else.
I stop running, turn around, and just stand there. She looks like she was physically harmless, weak even. She continues to call out for something. I couldn't understand what she was saying because she was talking in a different language. She didn't look like she was from my zone due to her extremely nice clothes and the different language she spoke, but then again, she didn't look like she was from any zone at all.
Eventually, she stops calling out and a man who looks the same age as her jogs out of one of the tents. He wears a orange robe with black pants underneath. Hid long, goatee is braided down to his chest. He comes closer to the woman, then whispers something into her ear. The woman's eyes widen and I notice that her pupils enlarge. The man then jogs back to the tent in which he came from before. The woman just looks at me for a minute, and I look at her.
“Are you Roman?” she asks in a calm tone, after taking a deep, very deep breath. I decide that I should answer truthfully. I still do not trust her, though, still keeping in mind the tragic letter that was sent to me by Henry, which makes me have to fight back more tears thinking about it. He told me not to trust anyone. I trust him, an I'm sure I can make room for one more person.
“Yes.”
“Welcome. Welcome, Roman.”
VI
I stand there, next to the woman. She had just welcomed me. Welcome to what? Or where? I stand in the same place with my face filled up with confusion. I am about to say something, asking her about the welcoming, but she beats me to it.
“Roman, follow me. You must travel to another area for awhile. There is no more room for you here,” the lady says. It seems that she had done this before. Like she was acting routine. It confuses me, because the tent that I had woken up in, seemed perfectly spacious, even if another person was sharing the tent with me.
“Who are you?” I ask. After a long, yet silent pause, she looks at me and puts her hands over her heart.
“I am only who you think and appear me as.” I didn't say anything else, thinking the same kind of answer would be given to me.
I clear my throat due to a cold that I have not yet overcome. The cold is probably caused be such a frigid climate in the world these days.
The hike is tough. The deep, (at least three feet deep, growing a little higher than my knee.) brown muddy substance spreads like a pile of sheets across the “trail”. This is not mud, due to its spots of purple, which scare the living daylights out of me, but I continue on the hike, following closely behind the lady, who does not seem frightened by the purple spotted substance.
The lady looks back at me, I guess to see if I am still following from behind, as most kids (those who are spoiled, or have a very high income) would not follow behind. She must notice the look on my face, as she says, “Roman, do not be afraid. This will not hurt you. It is called sulm.” Whatever it is, it sinks into me like quicksand, as I sink into it even more. I trudge through the sulm and occasional grass patches, that were just as muddy as the zones with no grass, but the new substance that I have encountered. The lady and I hike for about a half an hour, then she stops to breathe, still in the mud. I decide that I couldn't care less about how dirty I get, so I sit down in the mud, as how dirty my clothes and I get, it feels really relaxing. Neither of us say a word the whole time resting, as well as the entire hike.
While catching her breath, she tells me to head northwest for about five-hundred meters. I am not sure how far this is, but I follow her directions. She starts to hike back to the circle of tents, looking as exhausted as I am, except she has much less energy, her being elderly and all. I sigh in pain, as well as fear, praying that something, anything, will stop me from continuing the journey. I do proceed my hiking though, to the place of unknown. My hopes pray that the place is safe.
After awhile of treacherous hiking in the deep sulm, the small trail like path that I am hiking on came to a halt. A large woods filled with dead trees and lays surrounds me.
Should I go into the woods? The lady specifically told me to go northwest for five-hundred meters. There is no way I've gone that far yet. I was only walking for two minutes maximum. Who is that lady? Did she lie to me? My brain tosses around different questions that I do not know the answer to, which really gives me a headache to think about them.
The swirl of trapped thoughts were interrupted by a rustle in the woods. Something was moving. A deer? Hunter? I did not want to hike back through the sulm and mud, back to the camp, and it was risky going back to the circle of tents because I could run into someone who could be dangerous to me. I come across every thought, with multiple possible outcomes. Sadly, most of them include dying, but it seems like the woods is pulling me in, and my instincts are pushing me in further. I always follow my instincts. I trudge closer to the woods, and then into the path of darkness.
The woods is covered in trees, much more “advanced” than the woods I had been in with Henry. This place freaked me out, the darkness and the shadows of the trees that come across my face, feeling like they are the demons that have haunted me for the past eight years of my life. On the upside, at least the sulm from the trail is replaced by dry dirt. This is not woods. This is a forest.
The woodlands' trees smack me in the face often which gives me scrapes that sting and burn. They hurt, but my curiosity heals them, as if they had never been there before.
I be cautious because of the occasional rustle in the trees around me, like someone was watching me, or following me. I try to ignore it as much as I possibly can, but each time it sounds, the speed of my walking increases as I navigate through the terrain.
Eventually, I come to see a small opening in the woods. The light of the sun beams through the passageway, as it replenishes my mood with happiness, as I walk closer towards the light, seeking whatever lies beyond. I must have gone five-hundred meters by now, so I start to jog my way to the opening, my curiosity meter at an all time high.
I run out of the shadowy forest to see a once in a lifetime experience. A large grassy field spreads across acres and acres of land. The most beautiful grass, more beautiful than the grass at the circle, grows to the perfect height, not too long, and not too short. The bluest of water lays beyond me in the form of a slow flowing stream. I gaze into the stream, only to find many little fish, hopping and swimming around in th
e body.
A large mountain range stands over me and the body of water as the shadows of the shapes come down onto me, almost pushing me to the ground. It is beautiful, magnificent, phenomenal.
Pain starts to occur inside me as an indication that I am hungry, thirsty, and tired. I look into my bag, only to have no more than a handful of almonds, as I remember that they were supposed to be a snack for if I got hungry at the schoolhouse. Thankfully, I haven't eaten them yet. I grab them out of my bag, and savor each piece of nut, as if I had never tasted the delight of the delicious food. After I have finished, I walk over to the stream and plunge my head into the shallow water. I inhale the liquid, not even bothering to taste it. I already know how it will taste.
Wonderful. I sit down and took my animal skin shoes off, dip my feet in the water, and just breathe. The fish still swim by my feet, massaging indeed.
I lay down on the smooth grass and watch the big, circular sun and wonder how it could be so cold, but the sun could be that big. I just then remember how cold it is, and button my hoodie up.
I watch the sun and the mountains around me as the light begins to die, only to be born once again the next day. The pink and the orange colors sparkle in my own mind because I had never seen anything so beautiful. It makes me sad, as the reminder of my life glimpses in my mind. The routine, the controlling, the chaos. I hate it. Tears build up i n my eyes, but I fight them back, forcefully. How could anything be bad, when this sight makes everything better, if you could just look at it, once in your lifetime, and enjoy the peace of the gleaming lights.
Then I see the suns rather twin, as it takes the graveyard shift and shines the night with a bright white light that is almost as beautiful as its sibling. The light of the moon brings me to close my eyes, but I can still see the white glow even through my skin of my eye lids. I don't feel it, but I know that tears are just pouring out of me. The night glow causes a yawn. Then another yawn. I rub my eyes and place my arms on my chest, folded like a piece of paper. Then sleep. The most beautiful thing that I have ever seen before shoots me with a tranquilizer, putting me to sleep instantly.
“You enjoying relaxing, kid?”
I force my eyes open, scared out of my mind, hoping, praying for the small, yet large favor to not be harmed. I open my eyes and see the sky. It is different, it is normal. Just blue and plain. The clouds don't remind my imagination of anything, except for plain old clouds.
I sit up in shock, but then turn to see a man, no older than twenty-four. His nice brown hat fits perfectly on his head, as does his light brown leather jacket, with two rows of buttons that lay up and down on.
I didn't answer. I didn't want to meet anybody else, thinking that they could lead me into trouble, or something worse.
“Hello? Hey!” he says, waving his hand in front of my face, to gain my attention, to gain the leverage.
I still didn't answer, I just look up at him, blank-faced, as he looks down at me, smiling.
He is very handsome, his rectangular eyeglasses fitting perfectly on his head. I am feeling something, something weird when I look at him. The force that is driven through one another that sometimes, cannot be stopped. This force infects me with such a large impact.
Jealously.
He sits down next to me, his knees against his chest, but does not put his feet down into the water. His brown leather shoes are made of the same material as his coat and hat, are practically shoved into my face, my eyes forcing to stare at the large, rather expensive accessory, making the level of jealously increase.
“Are you Roman?” he asks, which instinctively, makes my eyes dart to his face, exclaiming many emotions, upon such a simple expression.
“How do you know that?” I demand, really starting to get anxious because with everything that has been going on, I wonder how two random strangers whom I had never met ever before in thirteen full years. They both seem like they know my name, almost if they were supposed to. It seems that his regret takes over him, due to his facial expression, but he quickly ignores it.
“You'll find out soon,” he says, getting up from the field, walking north.
“You comin'?” he says, looking back at me, giving me a friendly jester for me to come along. I choose to follow, only because I don't think he will harm me. I put my shoes on, not caring if they get drenched, because I know that they will dry eventually. I quickly catch up to him, walking alongside him. I don't think that this is the smartest decision, but it is definitely the safest.
“Where are we going?” I ask, my curiosity once again taking over, obsessing my thoughts over one simple question.
“You hungry?” He ignores my question, but he offers me food, so I didn't care that he ignored my question, and couldn't resist. I nod, craving more food as my taste buds become needy. He pulls out some bread and cheese from his bag. He made two sandwiches like an expert, slipping the pre-sliced cheese under two slices of bread. He hands one of the masterpieces to me. The simple two ingredients flash before me. My eyes swirl around as if a wheel is spinning the trickiest of optical illusions. I feel as if I am drooling from the looks of it.
“Thanks,” I say, trying to act calm, but my mood is everything but that. The sandwich is now in my possession. Under my control. I bare my teeth and chomp into the delightful pieces of bread with a slice of thin, white, cheese laying in the center of the sandwich. The taste is so amazing, the feeling of fainting comes upon me. I shake it off and realize that I have weirded out the man who is strangely looking at me, straight in the face.
“No problem. You know, that's a nice compass you got there.” He says it slowly, like as if he thought that something wasn't normal.
“Thanks. Since you know my name, what's your name?” I ask out of curiosity, feeling pushy, but demanding, again. He looks at me first with shock, then with a sense of regret. He shakes his head to clear his thoughts.
“I'm Tedd. Tedd Smith,” he says with a toothy smile on. His teeth are perfectly aligned, all lined up next to each other, not crammed, not spaced. My teeth on the other hand, are jagged, spaced, and tilted. My guardian can't afford straighters for me, and I can't either. He seems too nice to be truthful. Tedd. It isn't a funny name, not something to remember, just Tedd. Plain, old, Tedd.
I finish my delicious sandwich in a matter of two more large bites, trying to taste every last bit of it. The sandwich had taken my attention away from reality, so after a couple of seconds that felt like minutes, I snap out of the world of unknown, then jog to catch up to Tedd. He looks at me with a small grin. I smile back, continuing to follow him, right by his side.
We walk on the very large grassy field, that seems to go on for kilounits and kilounits. A large feeling of relief passes over me as we continue the walk on a dirt road, because at least I know that there is a small chance that this Tedd guy knows where he's going.
After awhile of walking on the dirt path, we reach a little village, or a town, depending on what it could be called. Not very big at all, but larger, and nicer than the last village that I was mysteriously at. Instead of tents there were huts and small houses, some with even a second story (I, obviously enough, have never seen a building with a second story, much less a house.) As we walk closer and I can get a better look, my mouth uncontrollably drops open. This is like the heavens. There are many people walking the roads, strolling into shops, actually communicating with each one another, which makes me sad because in all my life, in thirteen full years, I never yet came to the thought that people could communicate like this at all.
There is a bridge that lead across a moat that leads to the village. This is not what I am used to at all. I wipe my feet (they are drenched in mud and sulm, as well as water) off on the grass, still gazing at the establishment.
Tedd looks at me with a smile. The same smile he did when he told me his name. I look back at him and say nothing, but smile.
“Welcome to
your new home, Roman.”
VII
I am just standing there, at the border of the town. Just a little town, makes me so excited, so happy, even so anxious, I have no clue what do do with myself. I'm in shock when Tedd tells me that this is my new home. I had no clue what to say, just in so much shock my whole emotional system shut down and is rebooting.
Sure it was amazing, I'll give him that, but what about my old home? The Destitute zone is where I have lived my whole life. It wasn't exactly the best quality of life, but I adapted to it, and I kind of liked it. But from the look of this wonderful, astonishing place, I want to belong here, not the Destitute zone. I don't think that anyone should belong there.
“Why didn't you tell me before?” I say happily, my voice at a higher pitch than it normally is due to the anxiety of the situation.
“I wanted it to be a surprise.”
I say nothing. Nothing at all. Tedd knows that I am grateful, thankful, when a tear starts to roll from my eye. I try not to get very emotional, but at this point, when all is given to me, I can't help it. More of the tears swim up to my eyelids, gasping for oxygen.
“Follow me,” he says, walking closer into the town, waving his hand like a flag that many guards twirl when sight of a government official is near.
Leading to the town, a river runs along the edges of the civilization. The river is beautiful, amazing, but not nearly as perfect as the one I gazed upon earlier. A large, man made, beautiful bridge leads across this river, leading into the heavens.
We walk together passing by all of the houses on the street that is called Main Street(the houses kind of creep me out, because on the street that we are on, all of the houses look like the exact same thing, but they are all so perfect, that I don't really even notice the imperfection.) I wave at people, in amazement when they all wave back to me. The worried and excited look on my face is replaced by a rare look, for me at least. The most calm of smiles is replacing on my face. The palms of my hands and feet are no longer salty and damp. I am happy.
I look up to the house that Tedd stops at(still the same as the other houses.) Etched into the door is one word: FOUR. I choose not to pay attention to it and continue waving at people on the walks. I stop when an object catches the corner of my peripheral vision. I turn to see Tedd pulling out a big brown key form his leather jacket pocket and opens the door to the house.
“This is where you're going to be staying. You like it?” The house that I step into is a house that I've never even imagined before. I explore the whole house. I run through all of the rooms. Living room, dining room, cooking room, you name it. My face booms as I walk all around the house, the first floor. The happiness is gone. The excitement, the anxiety, the look on my face, the sweaty palms, it's all back.
It appears that there was a story below the first floor, along with the second floor above me. But when I open the door to go down, trying to explore, Tedd slams the door so I wouldn't. He glares at me, with a sense of anger, and fear. The excitement turned to phobias, scary thoughts twist and turn through my brain, and I swear to myself that I will never go, or attempt to go down there ever again. I did not want to make him mad, because he has given me so much, so I just went along, trying to act like nothing ever happened at all, and I hope that he does as well. A bad first impression is the last thing that I need.
There is a hallway that leads to a second floor, a room with a big table, which leads to a room with cabinets and a refrigerator, as well as other large appliances, and a room with a big brown leather couch and a whole bookshelf of books to read. On the second floor, there were two bedrooms and a really fancy bathroom. Back home, we bathed in rivers nearby huts, which I realized just now is quite disturbing. I scoot back to one of the bedrooms, exploring the room for the second time. This time, I realize something. Something important.
I am about to call for him, but he comes up the stairs, as if he read my mind, and looks right into my eye. He takes off his hat to reveal his perfectly shaped hair, and in his hat, an envelope lays.
He hands the envelope to me.
It is a guardian transfer certificate. I can tell by the red decal that is keeping the envelope sealed shut. I have seen it before. The logo of the government engraved onto the piece of paper-like material.
Everything made sense now. The camp I was at, transition for guardian transfer, and this house is where Tedd, and now I, live. I cry, being reminded of my old guardian, but then think optimistic, and realize that this is better.
I will still find who killed him.
He can tell by the look on my face that I already know what it is.
“So... do you want me to be your new guardian?,” Tedd says oddly, with a rather silly voice. This is where my mind takes a bit of a turn. It would be awesome to have Tedd as my new guardian, but what about my former guardian? And where does Henry fit into all of this? He knew who I was, I could tell, just by the small hint of worry, stuck on his face.
I did not say anything, but I gave him a shiny smile, just pretending that this is the most spontaneous thing that has ever happened to be before. It really wasn't, though.
After about a minute, our silence is interrupted by a loud knocking sound coming from the foyer downstairs. Tedd walks down the stairs and opens the door, while his hand gesturing me to stay back. A man with a suit coat appears at the door. Since I had never seen someone like this; professional, I decide to the room with the couch, and hide behind the wall so I wouldn't be seen.
“Hey, Mr. Smith!” Tedd sounds like he knew the man, or he could just be that friendly. I continue to listen as they shake hands, passing on grins.
“How's it doin' Tedd?”
“Good good. You?”
“I'm doin' fine, thanks for asking. I just wanted to confirm that Roman... uh... Roman Smith, yeah that's it, would be showing at school next Wednesday.”
School? I should have expected this, since this wasn't exactly paradise. I was not looking forward to it at all. Based on the context, the man who Tedd calls Mr. Smith, said that the school week starts on Wednesday, when back at my old home, school started on Tuesday.
Roman Smith? This new, last name, sounded better, better than Roman Kavinski. I flashback to the day at the camp, then glance down to my chest. The circular piece, still hangs, and I forgot it was even there in the first place. I grasp it in my hand, then turn it over, feeling the small, perfected, one of a kind designs throughout it. On the back, the etched RS still is there, still as big and bold as ever.
RS. Roman Smith? Maybe...
“Umm... Yes, he'll be there.”
“Excellent. Now he is in the seventh-grade, right?”
“That is correct, sir.”
I forget about the whole RS thing, and tune back into the situation with school.
Seventh-grade? Back home, I was only on my second year of school. I do know now that many things are different here than they are back at the Destitute zone.
“Okay! Just checkin' to see what the plan was. We are very excited for Roman to be comin' here.”“See ya,” Tedd says as Mr. Smith walked down the porch steps and into his what looked like a sub. It is very beautiful, it did not have flashy and retro lights like everything else that exists in the world today. I had only seen a sub once in my life. I can barely remember it though, as it was at the very beginning of the knot of my life. It loosens, then it tightens, then it loosens again.
“Rich dude,” I thought, but didn't dare to say anything, thinking I could get that horrid glare from Tedd once more.
“So who was that?” I said.
“That was the administer of your new school, M.E. 34.”
“Okay.” I didn't complain about going to school, because I knew that I needed to learn. I didn't feel like arguing about it, so I say calmly, “Can I have something to eat?”
It hadn't been awhile since I had eaten something, but I was starving.
“Well, it's sixteen-fifteen now, so how about a snack and then we can go to a restaurant?”
“A restaurant? I've never been to one.” That was telling the pure, clean truth. I didn't actually know the meaning of a restaurant, I had just heard the word on my radio, which I had gotten for my ninth birthday, from my grandfather, pretty awesome if you ask me.
“Then tonight is going to be pretty cool for you.”
I smile, then walk over to the room with all of the cabinets and the appliances, and open the one of the four cabinets. The light that flashes before me is amazing. So many plastic bags filled with food of all kinds lay on the wooden shelves, hidden behind the wooden barrier. I grab a large brown plastic bag that says: Carter's. It's good. I pop open the plastic bag and pull out a small, bite-size, twisty snack, covered in grains of salt. I carefully eat one, crunching the pieces of cooked bread in between my uneven teeth, and my eyes light up, even more than the sandwich had made me glow earlier. The taste is so powerful, so strong, I only can eat one. I use a clip to secure the bag, and slip it back into the cabinet. Afterward, I walk to the room with the couch and crash, sinking my body, a full six thousand, thirty two units, into the leather. The cold leather makes me shiver, but it is so comfortable, that I can bare. I nap, in the lightest of sleeps, wondering how all of this could happen so fast, and how it could all be so good?
Me and Tedd walk down Main street, the street where we had first walked together, at about eighteen hundred hours. Tedd locks the door with the big brown key and then puts the key into his coat pocket once again.
Main street is a long track that has many shops and lots of people walking around. The sight and sound and smell of people communicating makes me happy. It makes me really happy.
“So, Roman, what kind of food do you like?” Tedd asks me as we were walking past a clothing shop. I never knew that people had a preference on what they looked like and what they wore. Or a preference for what they eat.
“Realistically speaking, anything that won't kill me,” I chuckle. This is actually true. My guardian brought me home anything that he could get. It could be anywhere from a frozen pizza to canine food. Tedd lets out a little laugh, that only lasts for a couple of seconds, then he turns serious again.
“How about sushi?”
“What's that?”
“Telling the full truth here, sushi is raw fish in rolls.” I stopped and gave him an “are you serious?” look and right away he gave me the “you bet” look along with a thumbs up. He must like sushi, so how bad could it be?
“Okay. Sushi it is.” I try to be calm, but I am too eager to hide it.
The sushi restaurant is about three quarters of the way to the end of Main Street. When we walk in, lights of all different colors flash in my eyes. I smack my hand over my face in shock, squinting as my weak pupils adjust.
Everything is neon. The music is electronia, I don't like it at all. The forties' music was not my favorite. My favorite kind of music that I have heard is rock. I love it. It seems so mean and horrid to some people, but it really is just the opposite. Everyone used to listen to rock in the thirties', but nobody does anymore, for some reason. Just lots of electronica.
Tedd leads me to a long table with high, purpleish stools lined up until the blue and red striped wall stands in their way. The stools feel similar to the couch at Tedds' house, but it is different. Much different.
A man in an outfit that looks just like the music walks to the are of the table and places down two glasses, which look just like everything else. The stream of fluid then passes through the air, and into the clear glasses.
“You like it, Roman?” he yells. I wince at the loudness, but I know he has to scream. The music and everything else is too loud.
“It's amazing,” I reply, not really lying, just amazing in a bad way. How could the society of the zones turn into this?
“I'm glad you like it.”
Before the sushi was served, I scurry to go to the bathroom because I hadn't gone since the tree with Henry. The bathroom was stored away in a little hallway next to the bar, also painted with “flying colors”. As I walk in, the delightful smell of air freshener comes against my face, which smells great. I do my business in a urinal, which I had never used before. All I had ever used is a hole that I dug in the ground myself. Everything was automatic, and all you ever had to do is wave your hand in front of it. Amazing.
I turned on the sink(by waving my hand) and all of a sudden, the door opened. However, there was nobody to be seen at the door. I turn the sink off.
“Hello?” I called, doubtful anyone would answer, but there might be someone really friendly like Tedd.
No answer. A stall door opened. I check in the stall. Nobody was or is present.
The urinal flushes and I jump.
I start trembling, shaking. From fear? All of the stall doors open and all of the sinks turn on. It's wild. My body is in tremors, it hurts to breathe, but I do not have even a small case of asthma.
I look in the mirror. My eyes are red as well as my hands, they're glowing, like they are on fire.
I feel the urge to run, move. I try to slow my breathing and calm down, thinking that would help, but it was no use. The urge comes unbearable and I dash out of the bathroom, with more speed than I could ever have. The wind in my ears and hair is relaxing, enjoyable, for the few moments that I have it. I am out of the labyrinth in a matter of three seconds. The wind still roars against my ears. I stop in my tracks when I notice that my hands have turned more red and I get really hot. I put my hands on my knees, then I start to feel drowsiness. I am collapsing.
“Hel-”
I am interrupted by an impenetrable force. All of a sudden, everything is quiet. Quieter than ever. Even quieter than the time at the woods when the tree fell down. Quieter than anything could ever be. I couldn't move, not at all; paralyzed, scared. I couldn't see anything, but I swear I feel Tedd, laying down on me, wondering how this happened, calling for help, but I am perfectly alive. However, I was only alive in my own being. I am chatting away, calling for Tedd, telling him that I am alright, but nobody could hear me, except for myself.
VIII