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Annoy Annoy Annoy By Maeve Maddox A peruser announces: I annoy Or get bothered when I hear somebody, normally, a competitor, is under evaluated. I'm not catching this' meaning? The inquiry pose about the term underestimated, yet this post will concentrate primarily on annoy. In the first place, the action word misjudge: underestimate: to appraise at too low a worth or worth. Ex. Research shows men will in general exaggerate themselves and ladies underestimate themselves. Further clarification of misjudge doesn't appear to be important. The peruser is right in the perception that the term is much of the time utilized concerning competitors. For instance, a Google search raises a few arrangements of â€Å"the most underestimated sports figures†: 10 Most Underrated Athletes of All Time The 25 Most Underrated Sports Superstars of All Time The List: Underrated untouched competitors 10 of the most misjudged sports stars ever The 5 Most Underrated Athletes The 25 Greatest Underrated NBA Players of All Time Presently, to irritate. Taken into English from Old French, the action word irritate at first implied â€Å"to fester† or â€Å"to suppurate.† An injury that bothered was spoiling. After some time, the word has dwindled in non-literal use to intend to pester or to aggravate. Bother passes on a feeling of continuous passionate hurt or sharpness. The action word might be utilized transitively or intransitively. Here are instances of current use: After under a quarter of a year at work, LePage has just figured out how to bother a greater number of bodies electorate with his obtuseness than any Maine senator in ongoing memory.- Deseret News Christie’s Cowboys Support Rankles Some New Jersey Residents-Wall Street Journal My dad didn’t get his due. That despite everything irritates.- Shadaab Khan $10 greenback change annoys relative of Alexander Hamilton-New York Times [Rod] Serling was not simply one more consultant and he annoyed at the apparent attack against his work-Jeannot Szwarc Is it true that you are irritated by your cankles? Another liposuction treatment may support Daily Mail Note: The word cankle is another one on me. Word banners it as an incorrect spelling. Cankle doesn't show up in the OED or on the Ngram Viewer, yet Merriam-Webster offers a reference from The Philadelphia Inquirer dated 2001 and characterizes cankle as: a wide, thick, or fat lower leg that seems vague from the lower calf. Cankle is a portmanteau: calf + lower leg. With respect to irritate, It’s a decent word to pass on a rotting inconvenience of long span. Need to improve your English in a short time a day? Get a membership and begin accepting our composing tips and activities every day! Continue learning! Peruse the Vocabulary class, check our mainstream posts, or pick a related post below:30 Synonyms for â€Å"Meeting†Hyper and HypoUsing Writing Bursts to Generate Ideas and Enthusiasm

Instructional strategies and approaches Essay Example for Free

Instructional systems and approaches Essay Presentation Careful observing of understudy learning is a basic part of value training . It is a solid indicator of understudy accomplishment just as a significant separating factor between powerful schools and instructors from the ineffectual ones. Checking of understudy learning alludes to the different exercises sought after by dependable and skillful instructors to monitor understudy learning for reasons for settling on instructional choices and giving criticism to understudies on their presentation and progress in school. Systems for Monitoring Students. Understudies have distinctive learning styles which is the reason instructors ought to endeavor hard to track down exercises that will suit the requirements of their understudies. One method of observing understudies to guarantee learning is by asking them inquiries about the exercise introduced to check on the off chance that they get it or not. Addressing is a profoundly compelling technique to bring understudies into the taking in process from the earliest starting point of a class meeting until the end. It invigorates their enthusiasm for new subjects, thoughts and difficulties; and it urges understudies to be intelligent about their own convictions, presumptions and perception of new themes. Addressing passes on to understudies what they are to realize, what they are to do, and how they will do it. Successful addressing includes arranging and practice before directing exercises. Questions, oral recitations and different methods for calling upon understudies to show their comprehension of exercises introduced are a portion of the techniques instructors used to see whether their guidance is working and successful or in the event that it should be clarified further or balanced here and there to guarantee learning of understudies. Another technique for observing understudy learning and progress is by directing their seat works. This action includes the instructor to circle or move around the study hall to check how well or how inadequately the understudies are advancing in the errand. This is additionally an open door for her to give a coordinated guidance to the individuals who need it. Schoolwork then again can be advantageous, nonpartisan, or unfavorable relying on the nature and the setting of the schoolwork errands. When painstakingly observed by the instructor, this movement can build the student’s learning time, along these lines, may add to an expansion in the student’s accomplishment. Schoolwork additionally assists understudies with increasing an inspirational demeanor towards school, around the specific branches of knowledge where schoolwork is doled out and toward the schoolwork itself. Day by day, week by week and month to month surveys can simultaneously upgrade the learning of new material whenever joined with addressing and other learning tests. As such, the educator can recognize those regions which needs re-instructing. Homeroom testing likewise bear a positive relationship to later understudy accomplishment when controlled normally and as often as possible. Studies uncovered that understudies who are tried much of the time and given criticism quickly are found to have uplifting mentalities toward tests. They view tests as an encouraging component to the learning and considering process. At long last, educators ought to often survey student’s execution information to keep an eye on their presentation and progress. This is directed to recognize who among the understudies are at dangers, needs remediation or a one-on-one instructing. Powerful Monitoring Systems Teachers should, before continuing to the following exercise, decide first whether the understudies comprehended her exercises or not. It is significant that understudies should rehearse or perform aptitudes in the correct manner first before acquainting them with another exercise or sub-ability. Truly outstanding and best methods of checking my understudies is by asking them inquiries during class conversations. This isn't just to draw their consideration towards the exercise introduced to them, yet to likewise to invigorate their enthusiasm to the following point that I am going to acquaint with them. Addressing achieves such huge numbers of things in my understudies. To start with, it fortifies or remedies their comprehension towards the subject being talked about to them. It additionally urges them to take part in dynamic learning. It gives them new data picked up from the inquiries raised and it offers them a chance to explain a few focuses in the subject being talked about. Chief, it sets them up to learn and apply new aptitude to new difficulties, and in this manner, expands their perspective about existence. Addressing doesn't just widen my students’ center around the point introduced to them yet it empowers me to recognize their readiness to acknowledge new data. This educated data causes me to adjust, rebuild or change the exercises that I am going to acquaint with them a while later. I likewise have confidence in the significance of overseeing my student’s seatwork. I see that this technique starts more cooperation with my understudies than simply sit tight for them to call me and request help. At the point when vital, I likewise give augmentation for the individuals who need additional opportunity to complete their errands. This is to permit moderate students to adapt to the remainder of their schoolmates. Other than giving customized or one-on-one guidance, time augmentations is additionally useful and powerful as a way to guarantee learning in understudies. At the point when my understudies are through with their undertakings, I generally make a point to have them turned in for checking and evaluating purposes. Checking student’s schoolwork is likewise an extraordinary assistance to guarantee learning in understudies. To have the option to receive its rewards, I generally ensure that the schoolwork I provided for them are those that are attached to the topic we right now concentrated in the study hall and are suitable to their development level. I utilize this kind of observing framework as a methods for expanding understudy practice time with the new material introduced to them. I likewise ensure that guardians get include all the while, and that they know about what should be done with the goal that they themselves urge their youngster to do the schoolwork. Turned in schoolwork are constantly evaluated, remarked on and checked before being given back to understudies as this would permit my understudies to survey and right their slip-ups. At long last, to check whether my directions were completely comprehended or not, I give my understudies a test or a short test to affirm their grip of the exercise introduced to them and to recognize also potential holes in their insight and comprehension of the branch of knowledge. This likewise encourages me monitor my student’s learning for the motivations behind creation instructional choices and giving input on their presentation and progress in school. Every one of these techniques are utilized to have the option to make alterations in my directions to guarantee learning in my understudies; to decide whether the strategies I utilized in training them are compelling or not and; to distinguish also who among my understudies are at dangers, needs remediation or a one-on-one educating.

The Great Depression - Free Essay Example

The Great Depression was the events in American history between 1929 and 1938 in which the stock market crashed, banks failed, and unemployment rate was the highest it has ever been in the nations history. This paper will discuss the causes of the Great Depression, how it affected the lives of people in America, and what the government did to try to pull America out of the Great Depression. The year 1929 started off with republican Herbert Hoover becoming president replacing Calvin Coolidge who had previously served as president between 1923 and 1929. President Hoover believed in laissez-faire policies and thought that if the market economy was free, capitalism would be able to fix an economic downturn. Based on his economic beliefs, Hoover had lowered the top income tax rate to 24 percent from the previous 25 percent rate, while this may not have been enough to spark the depression, it did little to facilitate the major economic growth that had occurred during the 1920s. On October 24th, 1929, a day now known as Black Thursday, Stock prices fell 11 percent and throughout the week leading up until October 29th the stock market had fallen a total of 17 percent. A month later the stock market begun to trade sideways, a period when investments are within a tight range and dont get high, between the crashes the week before and the sideways market, investors began to lose faith in the stock market and started selling stocks and pulling money out of the banks which caused wide spread panic. In 1929 there were a total of 650 bank failures, these failures caused the money supply to reduce and made each dollar worth more. With the rise in the value of the dollar, prices fell which reduced revenue for businesses and increased the amount of debt that lenders had to pay back. This caused not only business to file for bankruptcy, but also caused personal bankruptcy across the nation. In 1930 families in America started to feel the effects of the Great Depression, with businesses failing and the unemployment rate steadily rising, most people found it already difficult to feed themselves and their families. Although times were tough for many people in America, no one had it worse than the farmers along the Mississippi River up to the mid-Atlantic where the worst drought in 300 years, known as the Dust Bowl, would cause massive crop failure. President Hoover felt as though he had to help the people affected by this drought and signed the Smoot-Hawley Tariff Act. The Smoot-Hawley Tariffs raised taxes on 900 imports, the idea behind the tariffs was to support the farmers affected by the Dust Bowl, but instead of helping farmers and citizens, it caused food prices to increase in a nation that was already suffering.

Analysis Of The Narrative Scholarship Boy By Richard...

In the narrative called ‘Scholarship Boy’, by Richard Rodriguez. One can say that the biggest turning point is when Mr. Rodriguez himself realizes, at the age of thirty. The biggest attribute to his success and determination is schooling as a young boy. This is when Mr. Rodriguez had to live two separate lives. One as a young boy eager and willing to learn and develop, and another as a son and sibling to his family. At the age of thirty he finally is able to come to terms with this fact and be able to talk about in public and not have to keep it bottled up any longer. During this time in his life he is writing his dissertation and finds a written piece by Richard Hoggarts called, ‘The Scholarship Boy’. At this point in his life he sees that he is not alone with his life struggles. This was figuratively like lifting weights off of Mr. Rodriguez’s shoulders, you can see how while telling this part of the story stress is taken off of him. It is interesti ng to see that during the entire narrative Mr. Rodriguez seems unappreciative and ungrateful for the life his parents had given him. He is obviously resentful to the idea that his parents didn’t appreciate or value the idea of education, or at the very least learning the primary language of a country they moved to. Nothing in the story states that they were ignorant parents and didn’t know how to do simple math, the struggle that kept his parents from being able to give Mr. Rodriguez the attention and affection but most of allShow MoreRelatedComparison Essay1541 Words   |  7 Pagesessay of Paulo Freire and Richard Rodriguez Paulo Freire’s essay â€Å"the banking concept of education† and Richard Rodriguez’s essay â€Å"the achievement of desire† talk about the topic of education. Education is explored in many different ways. In Freire’s essay â€Å"the banking concept of education† he expresses his dislike of the education system and the distribution of power and authority in the class room. In his essay, he says that all the power belongs to the teacher. Richard Rodriguez’s essay â€Å"theRead MoreThe Achievement of Desire by Rodriguez Essay999 Words   |  4 PagesThe Achievement of Desire by Rodriguez In Rodriguez’s essay, The Achievement of Desire, Rodriguez illustrates the characteristics of an automaton, thus confirming Freire’s views regarding the banking concept. Despite his classification as a scholarship boy, Rodriguez lacked his own point of view and confidence, which led him to be dominated by his teachers and his books. In the eyes of Paulo Frerie, Rodriguez would be considered a receptacle. 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Richard Rodriguez’s the achievement of desire†, from his autobiography â€Å"Hunger of Memory†; and Lucille McCarthy’s â€Å"A Stranger in Strange Lands: A College Student Writing across the Curriculum† from â€Å"Research in the Teaching of English†. Both answer key questions regarding what it takes to become a great reader and writer, howeverRead MoreMethods of Qualitative of Data Collection19658 Words   |  79 Pages99 Data Collection Methods 99 categories or strict observational checklists. In this way, the researcher is able to discover the recurring patterns of behavior and relationships. After these patterns are identified and described through early analysis of field notes, checklists become more appropriate and context-sensitive. Focused observation then is used at later stages of the study, usually to see, for example, if analytic themes explain behavior and relationships over a long time or in a varietyRead MoreStephen P. Robbins Timothy A. Judge (2011) Organizational Behaviour 15th Edition New Jersey: Prentice Hall393164 Words   |  1573 PagesIII, University of Arizona Jacqui Bergman, Appalachian State University Anne Berthelot, University of Texas at El Paso David Bess, Shidler College of Business at the University of Hawaii Bruce Bikle, California State University, Sacramento xxx Richard Blackburn, University of North Carolina–Chapel Hill Weldon Blake, Bethune-Cookman College Carl Blencke, University of Central Florida Michael Bochenek, Elmhurst College Alicia Boisnier, State University of New York William H. Bommer, Cleveland StateRead MoreProject Mgmt296381 Words   |  1186 PagesLeadership Chapter 2 Organization Strategy and Project Selection 1.4 Projects and programs (.2) 1.4.1 Managing the portfolio 1.4.3 Strategy and projects 2.3 Stakeholders and review boards 12.1 RFP’s and vendor selection (.3.4.5) 11.2.2.6 SWAT analysis 6.5.2.7 Schedule compression 9.4.2.5 Leadership skills G.1 Project leadership 10.1 Stakeholder management Chapter 11 Teams Chapter 3 Organization: Structure and Culture 2.4.1 Organization cultures [G.7] 2.4.2 Organization structureRead MoreLogical Reasoning189930 Words   |  760 PagesSimon Fraser University v Acknowledgments For the 1993 edition: The following friends and colleagues deserve thanks for their help and encouragement with this project: Clifford Anderson, Hellan Roth Dowden, Louise Dowden, Robert Foreman, Richard Gould, Kenneth King, Marjorie Lee, Elizabeth Perry, Heidi Wackerli, Perry Weddle, Tiffany Whetstone, and the following reviewers: David Adams, California State Polytechnic University; Stanley Baronett, Jr., University of Nevada-Las Vegas; Shirley

Is catcher in the rye and the stranger still relevant

Albert Camus’ ‘The Outsider’ and J.D Salinger’s ‘The Catcher in the Rye’ both have central characters who find themselves on the boundaries of the society they live in. Holden Caulfield finds himself ‘lonesome’ in 1950’s New York, in the lead up to Christmas, while Meursault, the protagonist of Camus’ novel faces trial before a jury after committing the murder of an unnamed Arab man, in 1930’s Algeria. The question we must ask ourselves as readers is: are the stories of these two men still relevant to life in the twenty-first century, and if so, why? Meursault, the readers’ eyes and ears in ‘The Outsider’ appears unbelievably detached from anything or anyone around him. The opening line of ‘Mother died today. Or maybe yesterday, I†¦show more content†¦Many believe that Camus’ novel is a work of existentialism, that an individual is responsible for giving meaning to his life, as opposed to the institutions around him. Meursault deals with death in a way that is unnatural to humans, but a way that after reading his internal monologue we can understand. He offers a different view of death. The chaplain that visits Meursault says he is suffering from ‘extreme despair’ but Meursault disagrees, he is only afraid because to be afraid ‘is only natural.’ After the conversation with the chaplain, Meursault accepts death, now he feels ‘forever indifferent’ to the world around him. He realises that death is a natural occurrence; he has no control over when or how he will die. In this moment Meursault relinquishes the ideals of hope. It would only torture him on his deathbed. Now Meursault is at peace with the world, he states ‘What did it matter that Marie now had a new Meursault to kiss?’ This acceptance of death is still relevant today as death is a universal occurrence, it happened in the 1930’s when the novels set, the 1940’s when the novel was written, and today in the 21st century. This is one of the main reasons why I believe it is still relevant to today’s reader. Holden in J.D Salingers The Catcher in the Rye is very famous for the use of the word phony. It appears in almost every chapter because Holden is very much a fan of the concept of it. Holden uses it to describe a range of different thingsShow MoreRelatedLord Of The Flies, By William Golding And The Perks Of Being A Wallflower1087 Words   |  5 Pagessome of my most beloved. In my junior year, I read A Separate Peace by John Knowles for my AP U.S. History class while I read The Catcher in the Rye by J.D. Salinger over the summer. A Separate Peace explores the rivalry that can lie at the heart of many friendships and conveys the concept of individuality rather than conformity. Similarly, The Catcher in the Rye is the story of a teenage boy who despises the phoniness of society and fears becoming just another phony adult. Both novels share similarRead MoreAnalysis of A Catcher In the Ryes Holden Caulfield: Enemy of Himself1686 Words   |  7 PagesJerome David Salinger’s onl y novel, The Catcher in the Rye, is based on the life events shaping main character, Holden Caulfield, into the troubled teen that is telling the story in 1950. The theme of the story is one of emotional disconnection felt by the alienated teenagers of this time period. The quote, â€Å" I didn’t know anyone there that was splendid and clear thinking and all† (Salinger 4) sets the tone that Holden cannot find a connection with anyone around him and that he is on a lonely endeavorRead MoreThe Mind Changing Disease : From Post Traumatic Stress Disorder1302 Words   |  6 PagesThe Mind Changing Disease. Throughout the novel Catcher in the Rye by J.D. Salinger the main character Holden Caulfield Shows Valid signs of suffering from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder or PTSD. Holden exhibits PTSD Through his thought process and actions during his journey through New York City until the end of the novel. Holden without a doubt experiences a psychological journey and shows PTSD like symptoms from his departure at Pencey Prep till he ends up at a mental institution. Holden isRead MoreBelonging Essay4112 Words   |  17 Pagesdiscover the underlying assumptions contained in texts deconstruct the representation of belonging - people, relationships, ideas as well as the places, events and societies, by different composers through their use of language modes, forms, and their relevant structural forms and language features engage personally with their texts and draw on their own experience make connections to their perceptions of the world and the worlds represented in the texts. Waverley Libr ary database Log on to the database

Financial Intelligence For HR Professionals â€Myassignmenthelp.Com

Question: Discuss About The Financial Intelligence For HR Professionals? Answer: Introducation All the cost that is involved in the production process is known as manufacturing overhead. The manufacturing overhead is a wide term which comprises of various other factory cost also. However, the cost incurred with respect to direct material and direct labour is excluded from the manufacturing overhead. As there is no direct cost and it is a kind of overhead it is also known as indirect cost. Apart from the manufacturing cost there are also certain cost in relation to selling and distribution and various other general and administrative expenses that are not added to the product cost. These cost are shown in the income statement of the company as and when they are incurred. Such cost may include inspection cost, maintenance and repair of any asset, depreciation of an equipment, etc. Based on the general accounting principle, it is necessary to value the inventories and the cost of goods sold on the basis of direct cost and manufacturing overheads(Berman, Knight and Case, n.d.). It is a common practise that the overhead has to be allocated and assigned to all the particular units if the company produces more than a single product. Manufacturing overhead is also distributed in this manner. For example, depreciation of the machine is calculated taking into consideration the value of the machinery, electricity is based on the units consumed and so on (Shim and Siegel, 2008). There are a large number of ways by which the company can assign and allocate overhead. These methods are chosen by the companies depending on the market forces and the nature of operations the company carries out. These can be divided into two broad groups- conventional approach and activity based method (modern). Let us now understand the concept of conventional approach first, in this method the manufacturing overhead was simply allocated on the basis of machine hours or the labour hours or any changes in the degree of the prime cost (Bruner, Eades and Schill, 2017). It is observed that the manufacturing overhead is increased with the decrease in the labour hours or machine hours. When the accountant of the company does not use different cost drivers but uses a single cost driver for all the overheads, then the rate calculated is said it be single blanket rate (Saltelli, Chan and Scott, 2008). In the question, we are asked to calculate the cost per unit using the single blanket rate. The formula for calculating the single overhead rate is budgeted cost divided by the number of hours required for production. On calculating on the basis of labour hours we have found out that the manufacturing rate is 48/product unit. This means that for Fred it costs $96 (48*2) as he took two hours to complete one unit whereas for Martha it costs $144 (48*3) as it took three hours for him to complete one unit. PARTICULARS FRED MARTHA Production units 1000 5000 Direct materials 40 60 Direct labours 30 45 Manufacturing overheads 96 144 Total Cost Per Unit 166 249 Total Manufacturing Costs $8,16,000 Total Hours Required 17000 hours (1000 units of Fred *2 + 5000 units of Martha*3 hours) Manufacturing Overhead Per Hour = Total Manufacturing Costs Total Hours Manufacturing Overhead Per Hour = 816000 17000 In this question, we have been asked to calculate the cost involved in the cost activity based on different cost drivers. The word cost activity is a technical term used in cost accounting which can be explained as different types of activities that are involved in the manufacturing process. The cost activities together form a cost pool. Although these cost are not directly attributable to the product still they form a part of the cost. The other word used cost driver is a factor on which the cost of a activity is dependent (Taylor, 2008). Following is the table that shows the rate of each activity as per the cost driver. For example, the expenses related to machine are $450000 which is divided by the budgeted cost driver of 9000 hours resulting in the rate of absorption $50/ machine hour. In the given table the rate of absorption has been calculated based on their respective cost drivers. ACTIVITY COST($) COST DRIVER Budgeted Level RATE ($) Machine Related Costs 450000 Machine hours 9000 hours 50/hour Setup Inspection 180000 Number of production runs 40 runs 4500/run Engineering 90000 Engineering change orders 100 change orders 900/order Plant Related Costs 96000 Square footage of space 1920 sq. ft. 50/sq.ft TOTAL 816000 There is basically two approaches- conventional approach and activity based costing. The activity based costing is a practical as well as a logical approach in which the overhead is allocated in a more logical manner i.e. on the basis of the actual usage (Clarke and Clarke, 1990). This approach is adopted by the business having large scale of operations in which the there are a huge number of machineries and equipments used. Using a single blanket rate, is however very illogical as it does no determine the true overhead that should be allocated rather overhead is allocated on the basis of a one particular overhead rate. Therefore, the overhead allocated according to the single blanket rate is usually wrong. There is a direct relationship between the products and the activities undertaken and so the overhead calculated based on this approach is said to be appropriate. Hence, we can conclude that activity based costing is less arbitrary when compared to the conventional approach. As ex plained above, the activity based costing is used in the large businesses because there is a requirement of calculating true cost and also the proper classification of the cost has to be known (Fairhurst, 2015). The product cost per unit using the modern approach (ABC costing) and the overhead cost which is required by the question is calculated and presented below: The price per unit of Fred was $199.20 whereas the price per unit of Martha was $298.8 when the firm was pricing its product @ 120% of the total manufacturing cost i.e. when it was selling its products at a margin of 20%. Earlier, the cost was calculated based on the conventional approach but after calculating the cost as per activity based costing, the product cost will be as follows (it will still price it product @120% of the manufacturing cost) (Galbraith, Downey and Kates, 2002)- Price per unit of Fred = 120%*504.30= $605.16 per unit. Price per unit of Martha= 120%*181.34= $217.60 per unit. After this calculation is made , it has been observed that the profit of Fred has increased from $33.20 per unit to $100.86 per unit whereas the profit of Martha has fallen from $49.80 per unit to $36.28 per unit on adopting the ABC approach. According to the conventional approach of costing, the overhead is allocated on the basis of the volume of production. These may be dependent on the volume of the production hours or even the machine hours consumed. Let us consider an example to understand this better, suppose there is a small manufacture whose volume of production is a little low but there is a huge expenditure of engineering cost, inspection cost, setup cost etc. If the manufacturer directly allocates the overhead on the basis of production hours then the result derived from it may be not reliable and may mislead them (Galbraith, Downey and Kates, 2002). This approach is usually adopted by the manufacturers whose scale of operations is simple and there are very less number of activities in which it is engaged. In such a situation where there is no complexity, a manufacturer may use the single blanket overhead rate for valuation. In case the manufacture is engaged in a number of complex activities, then it should no t go for conventional approach rather separate cost drivers is developed in order to carry out proper valuation. If the overhead rate is wrongly charged from the customer then there may be arise in price which could harm the business, therefore the decision of the management in regards to selection of the method should be taken very carefully (TULSIAN, 2016). The conventional approach prevents the true and fair presentation of cost of resource consumed by the final product. Conventional approach splits the total cost in two categories i.e. fixed cost as well as variable cost which is not considered realistic in the case when the business grows. This approach is not favourable for the manufacturing sectors as the valuation done by them is based on the degree of completion (Holland and Torregrosa, 2008). The advantages of adopting the activity based costing are as follows: The activity based costing system helps the company to know its position to earn the maximum margin of profit that it can earn. This analysis helps to determine the profits that could be earned on the basis of different product lines, cost of the product and the whole subsidiaries (Khan and Jain, 2014). The activity based costing helps to evaluate and identify all the cost that will be incurred if the firm takes the decision of in-house manufacturing. Therefore, it enables to compare between the manufacturing and outsourcing and helps to take a decision that would prove to be reasonable. The segregation of the overhead at the plant wide level is considered to be better than the cost of production between the different facilities. All the cost incurred in the manufacturing process forms a part of the product cost, some cost that are abnormal in nature also forms a part of the product cost such as customer service cost, handling cost and others (Reilly and Brown, 2012). These cost are then properly identified using the ABC approach and then it is seen whether the customers are paying them sufficient profits. The activity based costing enables a comparability between the cost incurred at industry standards and the cost incurred individually by the firms. This helps the company to have clear knowledge of the cost that is being incurred and the ways to reduce the wasteful cost (Reilly and Brown, 2012). The above advantages provide enough proof to say that the activity based costing is more logical and reliable than the conventional approach. There are also certain limitations of the activity based costing. They are- There are a large number of cost pools used in this approach and therefore there is a huge cost incurred in managing these cost pools. Therefore, we can say that although this system has various advantages, it also expensive at the same time. There Isa difficulty in the installation of the activity based costing system because the system has to be installed across all the product lines and the facilities. The installation requires an involvement of huge time which makes difficult for the company to gain management support as well as budgetary support. Activity based costing requires many relevant information from the various departments of the company. As we know, the company has a large number of departments therefore it becomes difficult to collect the input data. ABC follows the project basis which means that the information is collected only once and the such information is not used by any other operational situation other than the current operational situation. Therefore, the ABC is used once and then it is discarded. It is a normal practise among the employees to report that the time spent on any particular activity is equal to 100% of the time they have worked. But we all know that they do not work 100% because there is a good idle time involved in it as well, for example- lunch time, gossiping with the other employees, administrative meetings, internet surfing and many more. In such a situation , the time for which they have not actually worked also gets involved in the total time spent on an activity. Therefore, we can draw a conclusion that even though ABC system has many advantage it also has certain disadvantages. Now, it totally depends on the scale of operations as well as the nature of business to decide the compliance of various standards and principles. It is however important for every company whether small or large to give a clear picture of the costs and to charge a correct price from the customers as they are considered as the king of the business and no business can survive in the long run without their support. References Berman, K., Knight, J. and Case, J. (n.d.).Financial intelligence for HR professionals. Bruner, R., Eades, K. and Schill, M. (2017).Case studies in finance. Dubuque, IA: McGraw-Hill Education. Clarke, R. and Clarke, R. (1990).Strategic financial management. Homewood, Ill.: R.D. Irwin. Fairhurst, D. (2015).Using Excel for Business Analysis A Guide to Financial Modelling Fundamenta. John Wiley Sons. Galbraith, J., Downey, D. and Kates, A. (2002).Designing dynamic organizations. New York: AMACOM. Hassani, B. (2016).Scenario analysis in risk management. Cham: Springer International Publishing. Holland, J. and Torregrosa, D. (2008).Capital budgeting. [Washington, D.C.]: Congress of the U.S., Congressional Budget Office. Khan, M. and Jain, P. (2014).Financial management. New Delhi: McGraw Hill Education. Palepu, K., Healy, P. and Peek, E. (2016).Business analysis and valuation. Andover, Hampshire, United Kingdom: Cengage Learning EMEA. Phillips, J. (2014).Capm / pmp. New York: McGraw Hill. Reilly, F. and Brown, K. (2012).Investment analysis portfolio management. Mason, OH: South-Western Cengage Learning. Saltelli, A., Chan, K. and Scott, E. (2008).Sensitivity analysis. Chichester: John Wiley Sons, Ltd. Saunders, A. and Cornett, M. (2017).Financial institutions management. New York: McGraw-Hill Education. Shim, J. and Siegel, J. (2008).Financial management. Hauppauge, N.Y.: Barron's Educational Series. Taylor, S. (2008).Modelling financial time series. New Jersey: World Scientific. TULSIAN, B. (2016).TULSIAN'S FINANCIAL MANAGEMENT FOR CA-IPC (GROUP-I). [S.l.]: S CHAND

Some People Prefer to Spend Their Lives Doing the Same Things free essay sample

There has been a popular and interesting controversy in regards to peoples lifestyle. Some people would like to remain unchanged for their entire life, while others in favor of changing. Since this matter is debatable, I shall enlighten both sides before deriving any conclusion over this fact. On the one hand, those who are fond of devoting their life to a particular career tend to be in professional areas such as doctors and scientists. These jobs need chronic research and practice to acquire success. As a result, it is hardly to see a surgeon or a physicist abandoning their career and switch to other professionals. In addition, these jobs have a higher obstacle to change because the career development is much narrower than others. For instance, an astronomer would have no sense about economy and investment, and therefore it would be highly unlikely for him to get another job which is irrelated to astronomy. We will write a custom essay sample on Some People Prefer to Spend Their Lives Doing the Same Things or any similar topic specifically for you Do Not WasteYour Time HIRE WRITER Only 13.90 / page From this point of view, it is understandable that long-term research and faith of insistence are in need in highly professional careers. On the other hand, it is not uncommon that many people are fascinated by attempting new subjects. They would like to meet different people and accept new challenges rather than to maintain current circumstances. Consequently, they are capable to create more versatile experience and cultivate well-rounded character. However, frequent job-hopping will lead to minor opportunities to get promoted, thus those who prefer changing would be unable to create a successful career because of lack of specialties. In conclusion, there is no clear answer to this issue as there are equal numbers of pros and cons on both arguments. My personal belief is that is should depend on different personalities and the essence of the jobs.

Nintendo Essays

Nintendo Essays Nintendo Essay Nintendo Essay How did Nintendo successfully re-created the home video game business following the Atari-era boom and bust? Yamaha was working on a new gaming console (the Family) that would be cheaper, but at the same time having better graphics and faster action than the competition. They started trying to replicate the feel of the Nintendo arcade games however on a less powerful version that would be suitable for home use. They also had a security chip included in the system, so only Nintendo approved cartridges work in the system. Their mission was not to put out a lot of mediocre grossing games, but to put out a few games a year but top quality ones. To name a few, are Super Mario Brothers, The Legend of Zelda, Meteoroid. To uphold with the demands, Nintendo started licensing other companies to develop games for their system. Nintendo made the licensing companies sign an agreement where they limited each company to to a certain numbers of games they can release each year, so they maintain their market share. By also introducing the Family Computer Communications Network Systems they made Family a very handy machinery to have in every household by granting Family users to monitor and trade stocks by computer, home shopping, on-line banking, reservation services and information about new video games. 2. How did Nintendo capture so much value from home video games? Please answer this question with specific references to customers, suppliers, substitution and complement Customers By not creating a lot of games that arent good but rather make few amazing games hat would satisfy the customers needs and itd be an instant hit. By licensing it to other companies, more good games were coming out which would mean that the customers would have a larger variety of amazing games to pick from Launching the Family Computer Communications network system, they attracted more buyer with the addition of monitoring stocks, home shopping, on-line banking, booking tickets, e- mail, and information about new games. By getting big licensing companies on board like Acclaim Entertainment and quite a few more like Roofer Rabbit, Spenserian

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.