L.A. Trippin’

I wanted to know more about what the tough guys had planned as our next step so I walked over to ask.
“Hey loverman, want to get down to some serious business?”
Sarge’s greeting instantly turned my face into a red pepper on fire. I thought we’d been quiet the night before, but obviously I was wrong: everybody knew. First Maxim, now Sarge. I just wished they would stop bringing it up though. After all we all need a bit of privacy.
“No need for shame, boy. A serious act of passion wakes the man in each of us.”
What could I say to such shitty pathos …..
“The man’s desire is for the woman; but the woman’s desire is rarely other than for the desire of the man, Samuel Taylor Coleridge in Table Talk, 1835,” Quote said.
I’d come over to get some information, not to argue, so I let Quote’s remark stand for what it was, but I swore myself that one day I’d tell him how wrong he was about Nudjia.
“Ehm, yes Sarge, you’re right,” I said, ignoring the personal remarks as good as I could. “I wanted to know about your plans for L.A., how you want to deal with the two leftover Russians.”
“Well my boy, as far as I recall you were the one who’d persuaded the others to go the peaceful way and now you come asking me about my plans?”
“I just said that I think it best to first try to settle things without a fight. If somehow things won’t work that way and the guys don’t understand, I hope we can still rely on you to help us out. I think it wrong for me and my friends to handle guns, all the more because none of us has any experience whatsoever with any of your weapons. There are lives at stake here. They are depending on the success of our mission. So I think it would be rather stupid if we’d endanger ourselves before we’d even come close to finishing off the Russians.”
“Damn’ good speech, son. But let me tell you, I don’t want to blast those suckers to hell for nothing either, you hear? I just don’t think they’ll leave you the time to unpack your peacepipe, let alone smoke it.”
“Wow Sarge, you mean you still hope we can end this without someone getting hurt?”
“Read my lips boy: No. As I said I don’t believe it, although I never give up hope. I always see force as a last option. It’s my trade, it’s what I do best and I wouldn’t as much as blink before using any to reach my goal. I swore to serve and protect my fellow Americans and that’s what I’ll do. But to be honest, I don’t see another way out this time. Just think about what those Russkies did to your Indian friend or how they terrorized the whole area.
“But you were asking me about plans. Well Damon, I haven’t got a clue about what we’re up against, so apart from buying detailed maps of the area and thorough and continuing observation of their house once we’d found it, I really haven’t got anything planned.”
I had nothing to add to that. At least he had lifted the feeling off my back that we’d automatically be diving into an endless sea of bloodshed, the moment we’d meet the twins. I walked back upfront, only to discover that meanwhile Nudjia had taken in both seats for a deep nap. So I took another one a few rows behind her and let the landscape slide by.

Nothing much happened over the next one and a half days. The view stayed magnificent. I know of no words to help you imagine the wonders of nature we witnessed. The wilderness, the mountains, the few tiny lakes. We even crossed the Colorado river by driving over an original old London bridge. Really. There was a sign saying it once spanned the Thames River.  It had been brought over and rebuilt here in the sixties.
The closer we got to L.A. though, the more excited we became - especially Lucy and Mark. Lucy, because she imagined finally getting close to realizing her dream of becoming a famous actress or whatever and Mark, well he once had planned to go surfing …  although that of course was before he met my sister. But we all still needed to practice patience for a while.
We camped near wild streams and in a small hot desert, where we listened to howling coyotes at night. Nudjia howled back as she came. I don’t know what the coyotes thought of her serenade, but I felt lucky they didn’t come over to check us out. Maybe they showed her their respect by acknowledging her territory. Meanwhile Spooky hid under a pile of clothes.
We all did pictures like U2 in Joshua Tree Park. Then, heading north, we drove through orangeries which went as far as the horizon and vineyards going even further.

The next day at the break of dawn I could suddenly feel the vibe. We couldn’t make out L.A. just yet, but we saw the cloud of dirt hovering over the valley like a giant mushroom. I wondered who could ever have come up with the name ‘City of Angels’.  Maybe at the time they didn’t have that many cars and factories polluting the air and the water supply. If ever an angel would have stayed in the city, waiting hundreds of years just to welcome and protect us - which I hoped for with all my heart - it would have turned black by now. Hollywood, city of dreams. My goodness, how stupid can humans be?
But as we drove closer and were finally able to take a  look at the moloch we were impressed after all. Its hugeness was devastating. All concrete and steel, as far as the eye could see. And past that, through the deepest grey we could even guess the ocean.
I could tell Mark was fighting with himself, not to instantly take his board and head for the waves. Lucy had woken him up as soon as she had digested her first impression of paradise, her dream come true.
Before we could start the fun we still needed to take care of those Russkies, though. But where to begin? We didn’t have a picture of either brother. To show folks the ones I’d made of the two corpses would probably give people a slightly wrong impression of our intentions. Imagine someone coming up to you with a picture of a brutally slain corpse, demanding if you by any chance might know the guy’s relatives? If you wouldn’t start puking straight into his face out of horror and disgust, you would at least get suspicious or – even worse – if you’d be familiar with the guys, you’d try to warn them for the possible killers on their trail. Depending on who was watching, Sarge and Quote could easily pass for homicidal maniacs. That would definitely jeopardize the whole operation. We had to act far more careful.
But what am I telling you? You’re no stupid fuck, otherwise you wouldn’t keep reading the book, right?

Louis stopped at a small parking lot by the road overlooking the entire valley. It was still early; the sun must have been up for some two hours.
“Let’s take a break and make some plans to avoid a headless dive for action,” he said.
Mark got out first to scan the place for any elderly tourist who might get struck down by the sudden sight of our two psychopaths. With old people you never know, heart attacks, yellow fever, sudden memory loss – we wanted to make sure we wouldn’t be causing any more grief than absolutely necessary.
“All clear,” he said as he motioned us to get out of the bus. We walked over to the small railing protecting retards from falling off the cliff and looked down at the monster lying spreadeagled below.
Louis said: “What we need now are newspapers and city guides. First we’ll check the  ads praising European girls. I don’t think those guys changed their source of income. Not that I’d expect them to live anywhere near their girls but it’s worth a try to get in touch. What do you say?”
“Great idea, soldier!” Sarge replied as he spit on the ground, almost simultaneously covering it up with a kick of sand.
“While you guys are checking the papers for the girls, Mark, Tiko and me could start  looking for an apartment of some kind,” Lucy said, her face almost bursting with energy.
“After all we will need a place to sleep and I don’t expect this whole thing to be over by tomorrow. I’m yearning for a real bed to sleep in. And as you know,” she said while putting her arms around Mark’s belly, “we are planning to stay for a while.”
I said: “I think it might be better to leave Tiko here with us. Not that you wouldn’t be able to care for him. It’s just that the landlords might be getting the wrong impression. I mean you are a bit young for a child his age and he doesn’t really go after either of you.”
“We’ll just say we adopted him! That should give a good impression. A young socially conscious family adopting a poor Indian child.”
My God, here we go again. This weren’t the sixties. Hippies are out. What planet was she living on? Or could it be that those girlie magazines were again trying to push their ever faithful fan-base into another copy of Love and Peace?
“But Lucy, look at you two! Except for a bag each and Mark’s board you do not have anything with you. You don’t want to tell me you actually believe you’d be able to convince anyone to rent you an apartment, appearing in those outfits and with a potbellied Indian boy hanging from your hand. Sorry Tiko.”
Tiko just shrugged and grinned, he didn’t mind.
“Hear hear, it’s Mister-Know-It-All talking again. Tell me Damon, what is it you know about landlords?”
Lucy still could not stand anyone questioning her.
“Oh, stop the quareling, you two,” Mark said. “Let’s just all go for what we think we do best. We’ll get together at the end of the day and share the information we got. Then we’ll let common sense decide what to do next.”
“Great minds think alike, proverb, early 17th century,” Quote said.

So that was what we did. First we drove into town to buy a couple of newspapers of which each group took two, then we split. We’d planned to meet later on a square downtown. Sarge and Quote stayed with the bus. Louis took Tiko. They went for the clubs and the red-light districts to see if they got any response to the pictures of the girls. I would have loved to see the Dames’ faces as they opened up to the odd couple.
Lucy and Mark as well as Nudjia and me went looking for apartments. We thought small groups might have a bigger chance of success. I had Spooky in my jacket.
I’d bought the L.A. Times at a newspaper box. It had so many ads for places to rent we didn’t know where to start. Most neighborhoods didn’t ring a bell. It was quite obvious that we didn’t want to move to Watts or that Beverly Hills was out of the question, but there was so much in between.  We decided to start with sorting out the impossible.
Although an office-space would make a perfect hideout, I didn’t think anybody would rent us anything remotely decent for an affordable price. But what could we afford?  I wouldn’t have wanted to spend Pops’ money on rent. Lucky for us Who’s Mom had given Louis a small bag as a contribution to the mission. It contained her savings from an entire year. The moment she’d overheard Nudjia’s and the other girls’ cry for help, she’d decided to do something about it. She’d even considered hiring a p.i. to free them, but then she met us and decided to give us the money.
Well, here I was with the responsibility of spending the right sum for the right place. I had to start somewhere, so I searched the list for ads more personal than: ‘Single r.-studio. E.L.A.’.  Somehow those didn’t turn me on.
‘Two bedroom studio, quiet neighborhood, decent folks. To be let to young couple or students. Pets welcome.’
That didn’t sound too bad. After all we weren’t looking for paradise. Just a place to live in for as long as we needed.
I called the number.
“Yes, please?”
“Hello Miss, this is Damon Lopo calling. It’s about the apartment, I’d like to know …”
“Hey boy, watch the clock! The paper has been out since 5 AM. The phone hasn’t stopped ringing since. Who do you think you are that I would have saved the place for you?”
“Hey Lady,” I said, “how about pulling the plug?”
“Now don’t you get nasty on me, you wise ass student you….,” she yelled through the receiver while someone in the back said: “For Christ sakes Libby, hang up the friggin’ phone!”
What a start. Maybe I should care less about nice ads and simply call one after the other. We started working as a team, Nudjia holding the paper while I called. It was useless.
Most places were gone, some were too expensive and others had the wrong landlady: “WHAAAAAAT? You want WHAT? For how MUCH? Go f … yourself shitHEAD!”
Great, I already began to love the city and the friendly Angelenos. The situation made me think of de Vito as Hush-Hush magazine’s editor in L.A. Confidential. Ever seen that one? A great movie. Go see it whenever you’ve got the chance. Anyway, de Vito plays a Hollywood reporter, always first on the crime scene thanks to a friendly cop, Kevin Spacey. Of course Spacey gets his share of change for the tip-offs, together with free publicity in the magazine. Others, less happy with the pictures, try to end the cooperation by finishing off first one then the other. The friendly landlords we got on the phone so far strongly reminded me of the first scene when de Vito talks about all the stink and ugliness that so often hides behind glamour and fame.

So, what now? I was really getting tired of people yelling at me all the time. My mood was down accordingly. Nudjia took my hand and pulled me down onto the three barely surviving square meters of grass separating two empty office buildings on the street corner. Spooky jumped from my pocket and immediately began inspecting the tiny inner city jungle.
Nudjia embraced me and said: “Don’t rreproach yourrself, Damon. It isn’t yourr fault these people arre so bitchy. You couldn’t know most aparrtments are gone by 8.00. Maybe ve’ll have morre luck tomorrow.”
She kissed me. “Think of something else, o.k.? Anything you’d like to do, a vish? Ve could go to the beach, or maybe…..Chinatown?”
I truly couldn’t think of anything. Shitty people and bad starts always throw me back hard. On top of that the pressure of success. We desperately needed a place to stay.
“I’d like to listen to some music, read a nice book, just to get my mind off of things.”
“Hey, let’s find a nice café then, drrink some coffee - or how about ice-crream?”
She’s so sweet, I thought, watching her from the side. I never really paid attention to her lovely profile. The high cheekbones and her tiny nose, almond eyes and the beautiful flow of her lips. Suddenly it hit me again, how lucky I was to have found her.
“She could be pregnant.”
“WHAAAT???!!!”
“Damon, you scarre me to death, vhat’s going on, why do you yell at me like that? Everryone is looking at us. Tell me vhat’s wrrong.”
I felt sick. Was I again imagining things or had Wild Cloud – it couldn’t have been Spooky?! - just spoken to me? If so, how could they know about Nudjia? No, they wouldn’t want to upset me that much. Besides, the chill that used to announce Wild Cloud was missing this time and Spooky had his mind set on other things. He was busy eating the grass, innocently staring at a graffiti some gang had sprayed on a wall.
So, if it wasn’t them, who could have wanted to scare me that much?
Whoever it was, he almost succeeded in blowing me off my feet. Then I remembered   Wild Cloud telling us about this ghost or whatever it was, protecting the Russians. Maybe that one was trying to fool me. But  how to fight such a freak?
Did Nudjia hear the voices, should I even tell her about them?
“Sorry Nudjia, it was as if I heard voices talking in my head.”
“But Damon, you verre yelling at me.”
“I don’t know what’s going on, I really don’t. Since a few days it’s as if someone’s talking to me but there’s never anybody around. I have no idea who it might be. Maybe Wild Cloud, Spooky, some other being. I know it sounds insane, but I swear I’m telling the truth.”
Nudjia watched me with mixed feelings. Part of her seemed tempted to believe me, but common sense told her I was completely bananas.
Maybe I’d heard my other self talking, or I just projected thoughts onto Spooky only to escape speaking to myself and going insane.
“Come Damon. Take a brreak and rrelax. Ve’rre not in a hurrry. I don’t think ve still hafe a chance of finding an aparrtment today. It’s too late for that. Besides, ve’rre not the only ones looking. So eitherr we just take half the day off and enjoy ourrselves, or ve can go to the meeting point and hope to meet the otherrs therre. But stop thinking about talking rrabbits, hearr?”
Thoughts were boiling up in my head, babies everywhere.
I felt almost like exploding, so I asked her: “Nudjia, are you pregnant?”
“I, I don’t know…. No, I guess not. How did you get the idea? Vhy, Damon, you arre not telling me that Spooky …..”
She started giggling.
“Yes, no, I mean, I know you were on the pill when we met but I haven’t seen you taking it since. We never bought new ones and we didn’t use condoms either. Sorry Nudjia, I’m just so confused.”
“Take it easy love. You’rre rright, I’m not taking anything since I emptied the last strrip. But that means nothing. Besides I didn’t vant them anymorre. They rreminded me of the twins and my life back there. They forced me to take prrotection. As a prrecaution forr the veeks and months which verre to come, for vhen I’d be one of theirr prrostitutes. It neverr came to that, as you know.”
She put her hand on my shoulder.
“Don’t vorry, Damon, ve’ll buy some condoms rright away, o.k.? Now please shut up about talking rrabbits and let’s go.”
I took Spooky who had just finished eating all the grass including the flowers and put him back in my side pocket. At least he kept quiet – a good sign. I liked the way he watched me though. Maybe he tried communicating with the eyes. Whatever he was doing, I prefered it that way. At least I just got to guess his thoughts. On the other hand Wild Cloud had warned me not to underestimate the tremendous power some ghosts possessed. Oh my. I felt like I was back to talking rabbits. This was all just plain crazy. Why couldn’t life just be simple for a change? I decided to let the psychic shit rest a while.
Nudjia and I walked silently side by side for about half an hour. But then, babies again came falling from my brainpan’s sky, giving me the creeps. I couldn’t stand it any longer, the waiting and all. She hadn’t denied it. Maybe she just didn’t know it yet. Damn! Why on earth hadn’t we thought about protection.
“Well, are you or aren’t you?” I asked.
That definitely was one too much. I had crossed the line.
She got really nervous and answered harshly: “How should I know? O.K., ve both forgot to take carre, so, yes, it could be possible. But I’m not surre. Ve’ll buy a test at the next drrugstorre if that makes you feel betterr, o.k.? But please stop asking now. I vant to enjoy the day vith you vithout being perrforrated by the same question forr the next eight hourrs.”
“All right, all right. Calm down, Nudjia. I promise you I won’t bring it up again, all right? Let’s take the sub downtown.”
I felt better. I didn’t really think about the consequences of a pregnancy. I just wanted to get it out of my mind.
We took a commuter train to Pershing Square, downtown L.A. Louis had picked the spot for our meeting. Easy to find and right in the center of the city. We thought we might as well go there early and use the time to take a look around.
It was nice; we really liked it. A big square with in its midst a huge crimson tower which had water flowing down over an aqueduct into a huge pond. It looked a bit like a huge concrete paperclip designed by some hotshot French guy. He just forgot about the paper.
We sat down on a concrete bench by the water. While Nudjia was busy reading the inscriptions that were carved into the stone, I tried to find out where to get the best sandwiches. The yellow pavillon to our right seemed to be the place. They had anything a starving tourist could think of: hot-dogs, a salad bar, fish, whatever. The pasta looked miserable, though. But what to expect of guys using canned tomatoes and all …
I bought two nice turkey sandwiches with different salads and Gruyère cheese and each a bottle of sparkling spring water. Nudjia had almost finished hers before I even got to open mine. Spooky liked the salad.
The guy to our right listened to the latest Lifehouse album on his disc-man. He had it turned up so loud the entire bench got their ears blown out. Although I couldn’t understand a word Nudjia said - a mouth full of turkey was in the way – it was clear she liked the songs as much as I did. I had bought their first cd through amazon.com -  of course Midville lacked a music store - and was an instant fan since.
Pops sitting on the other side probably would have thought otherwise if only he would have remarked his hearing aid swimming in the half empty coffee mug. He grinned at me. I grinned back as we watched the action that started to unfold on the square.
Surrounded by a small herd of onlookers, an artist sort of resembling a mix of a board-less Silver Surfer and Dr. Strange was drawing an abstract painting on the pavement and onto four girls in bikinis lusciously posing as a frame. Everybody watched the show. Even the disc-man stopped his music. Somehow the painter seemed familiar, though I couldn’t pin his face to anyone in particular. The guy’s make-up made it impossible for me to recognize him.
As the girls started rocking and shuddering to some strange sounding psychedelic music blaring from a tiny boombox the painter had put up next to the picture, the situation turned  ridiculous. The artist and his smeared models began singing and dancing as if in a trance and praised the tower as their holiness. Although it was clear from the start that the whole thing was meant as a joke, some onlookers kept staring at the tower for possible signs.
Then a drunk began flirting and dancing with the hottest looking muse. He pressed himself into her so that whenever she managed to shove him away the onlookers could marvel at the artwork her boobs had left on his shirt. The constantly changing image impressed the guy so much that, in an act of worship, he bowed as low as his damaged back allowed – just a few inches. He definitely could use some Ma Who-training.
The whole show got out of hand when one of the other girls tore an onlooking cop into the action. He tried his best to hold her off but couldn’t prevent her from smearing his uniform as she bumped her colorful rack into his chest. When the cop then accidentally ripped off her bra, the drunk and the audience cheered.
The cop was too inexperienced to handle the mess. He tried to hand the giggling girl back her bra but she didn’t want none of that. Instead the painter threw new paint onto her wobbling boobs which she again smacked into the baffled cop. You can imagine what would have happened if one of his partners hadn’t come to his rescue. The crowd applauded as the girls rocked on to the music.
Nudjia hadn’t had so much fun since we met. She had tears running down her face from laughing. Spooky dived into my pocket so that just his little tail peeked out. I felt closer to Spooky’s taste. I preferred to see more of the city.
Because such situations like easily get out of hand, I tore Nudjia away from the square to avoid ending up in a mess that wasn’t ours. We first walked over to the Gas Company Tower. What a beauty that was. To me it looked as if it was all just glas. I’ve never seen a building with so many windows. As I was staring into one I suddenly saw Nudjia holding her growing belly.
Easy Damon, it’s just a dream.
Lucky me.
A few blocks further down the Central Library came into view. It wasn’t bad either. A very impressive building with a somewhat antique touch to its architecture. Like a crossover between an ancient temple, a pyramid and a styled concrete rock. I felt good walking the streets. That way I finally got to see a nicer side of the L.A.  I didn’t want to let those grumpy landlords spoil the city for me. We weren’t sure how long it would take us to find the surviving twins. If I have to stay somewhere for a certain time I need to feel good about the place. Otherwise I wouldn’t be able to really open up to what’s going on around me. I might get to overlook certain things or facts that could turn out to be quite life threatening.
We decided to have a coffee in a small Italian café. Spooky had a bowl of fruit with bits of apples, strawberries and mini bananas – its contents totaling almost half his body size. After he had finished we went shopping for jeans and t-shirts. We desperately needed clothes. The first thing Nudjia bought though was a leather bag to carry the very sleepy Spooky in. She’d been wise enough to make it a large one. There was still enough space left to stuff away all the goodies she’d planned to buy later in the day.
As we passed a small Korean drugstore we decided to buy a pregnancy test. The old Ginseng root behind the counter tried staring our brains out and shook her head in disgust.
Nudjia didn’t give a damn and said: “I vant to trry rright away,” leaving the bitch  smoking in anger.
Back outside again, Nudjia crossed the street and entered a tiny restaurant, me following her like a shadow. She asked the waiter if she could use the bathroom.
“I’m not feeling vell,” she told him.
He grinned helplessly and showed her the way.
The waiter was a bit confused when, some five minutes later she jumped back out again, all smiles. The sudden transformation left his lower lip hanging from his chin.
She held a dripping strip in my face and smiled. “Look love, it came out pink!”  As if that would explain things.
“Don’t keep starring like that, it means I’m fine - no baby.”
We were both so happy and relieved. We thanked the stunned waiter, left him and the lonely restaurant and kissed tenderly on the sidewalk. People made their way around us. Above our heads a plane zoomed off towards some unknown destination.
We still needed time for ourselves, to discover the world. A baby would have disrupted everything. Although there was no sign of love slipping away, we had only known each other for a few days. It was far too early to feel sure about us lasting a lifetime. We were very much in love and maybe with time it would grow into something deeper.
As we kissed we felt as if protected by a love-bubble. As if the clock had stopped ticking and we were moving completely free of time and space. Maybe Grandma had helped us out. Just in case I sent her a million thank yous.
After Nudjia had the test she needed to visit a bathroom on every third block.
“The excitement,” she explained.
To celebrate the happy event I decided to buy my love a pair of undies. She just had some very worn ones in XL. They looked more like Mama’s pancakes than like something to hide her sweet bum in. I used one of her frequent toilet-sessions to slip into a pantie store.  It had three tough looking mannequins staring down from the shopping window, showing off the latest fashion. It’s so easy to make Nudjia happy. The ones I bought had big pastel colored petals printed on the soft tissue. I hoped Pisa Pops didn’t mind me spending so many of his hard saved dollars on such a small piece of silk.
You should have seen her face as she ripped open the pink box.
“Oh Damon‚ I always vanted to have some ….,” she said.  “They’rre so prretty. Thank you so much.”
We kissed.
‘Lingerrie’ she called them, trying to pronounce it French. As she had put them back into the tiny box, she immediately tore me back into the store to try them on.
She looked gorgeous. The bra was, well a bra. Nicely formed, a bit push-up, with little ruffles to the seams. But what I really liked best was the thing that came with it. It wasn’t a slip, but it wasn’t a skirt either. Something in between.
“It’s from Italy,” I said.
Couldn’t have been better. Since we met she’d kept asking me if one day we’d visit Italy. After all, that was where she’d planned to spend her vacation. Instead she turned up in some hooker joint near Midville.
“What was so bad about the whore-house?” I said grinning devilishly. “You wouldn’t have found me in Italy anyway.”
She smiled back, came over and blew me a kiss while she grabbed for my crotch with her other hand. I was lucky the other cabins were empty.  No one else was trying anything on.
She held tight, just so it didn’t hurt and said: “Vhat did you say about something being so funny in the whorre-house, huh? You didn’t by any chance think I was vaiting forr you, my knight in shining arrmorr, to come and save me?”
While saying this, her eyes turned skyward as her right hand held her temple in an ironic way, the pinkie spread sideways. As I watched her standing there in the try-on cabin, clad in her ‘lingerrie’  with just her red socks on, goosebumps on her arms, I thought of how real our love felt. I loved this girl, her humor, her silent way, even the Tweety-bird voice.
I know that a few minutes ago I wasn’t that sure of myself. But what do I know about the changes taking place deep inside. It wasn’t the being in love or the hot silk. It felt as if something far deeper and maybe more enduring had suddenly opened up to me.
Could it be that I had needed the overcrowded moloch L.A. with its overwhelming anonymity to find peace with her, to learn about devotion and to feel secure?  So many movies tell stories about relationships breaking up after only a short while just because the thrill is gone and the two people thought they couldn’t get along after all. Sure, that could happen to us, too. But I wanted to take the chance and try, not just give up before having even started.  I felt sure we would manage somehow. We could make it and I swore to God we would. No matter what we had coming. After all what are difficulties for if not to be overcome, right?
We left the store, walked a few more blocks and when we felt like we’d had enough,  went back to the square to meet the others.