Day 14 of Captivity -- Domestication

Did you know some people have rats as pets? Did you know that once domesticated, they like to snuggle, be petted, and take rides on their owner's shoulders?
Very interesting...

Day 13 of Captivity -- The Care and Feeding of Rats

I woke up this morning with a rat curled up on my chest. Ahhhh!!! I and the rat both jumped about 10 feet in the air. I haven't seen him since, but why would he be curled up on my chest? The kids heard me yell and came down to see what had happened. I expected some sympathy but instead they were rolling on the ground laughing. I still don't see the humor in the situation.
Later that day, they gave me a book entitled The Care and Feeding of Rats. They said that I could use it to train the rat to be my pet since they had no intention of trying to get the rat out of the cellar.
Yeah...like I'm really going to turn a wild rat into a pet.

Day 12 of Captivity -- Freedom for a Day

The horse's name was Saturday.
Thank you Kylene for providing the answer!
My son was suprised that I got it. Maybe suprised isn't a strong enough word, but I'm grateful he kept his word and let me out.
My day of freedom was so wonderful. I walked in the grass. I felt the rain on my face. I didn't see any rats.
Unfortunately, I'm now back in the cellar. My captors wouldn't listen to my pleas to sleep in the house tonight, but at least I had a day in the rain (I live in Oregon so I can't really say a day in the sun).

Day 11 of Captivity -- The Riddle

So this morning my 6 year old opens the cellar door and tells me I can come out to play for a day if I can answer his riddle by tomorrow.
Here it is. Email me at mdayley1@gmail.com if you know the answer:
A man went to a ranch on Monday and left three days later. When questioned, the ranch owner said that the man left on Saturday. How can the ranch owner be right?
Please help!

Day 8 of Captivity -- Thanks a lot Harry Potter

I apologize, faithful reader, that I wasn't able to post anything yesterday. The kids figured out how to cut the internet access and are now using it as a way to control me. They said that when I embarass them publicly, like I did at the capital, then I will lose certain privileges. Privileges include: Internet Access, Food, Clean Water, Clean Clothes, Rat Traps, Heat, Electricity, and anything else that they can take away.
They've also made it clear that just becoming a full time best selling author is not enough. They heard that J.K. Rowling lives in a castle and they think we should too. So...the bar just got higher. Thanks a lot Harry Potter.

Day 6 of Captivity -- Trip to the Capital

My children let me out in order to accompany them to the Oregon State Capital today. We homeschool and a few hundred homeschoolers descended on the House and Senate in Salem to talk to our representatives about how great homeschooling is and to give them a pie. It went really well until I unknowlingly broke one of the rules. One of the representatives gave a really great speech against a really stupid bill (that ended up passing the house by 3 votes), and I applauded. The House Speaker pounded his gavel and let me know that applauding in the gallery is not allowed. That was too much for my kids. They marched me out to the car, locked me in, and then left me there for the rest of the day. As if that wasn't bad enough, they kept making comments on the way home about what a mistake it was to let me out of the cellar today. I'm afraid that might be my last public appearance for a while.

Day 5 of Captivity -- There's Definitely a Rat Down Here

There is definitely a rat down here. I tried to tell my kids about it and I insisted that I can't focus on writing with a rat nearby, but they just laughed and relocked the door. After 10 minutes of yelling my wife finally came down, and when I told her about the problem she simply said that it's good for characters to have neuroses. "Like Indiana Jones and Snakes," she said and then shut the door and walked away. What???
I'm afraid that my wife may be a co-conspirator.
You, dear readers, may be my only true friends.

Day 4 of Captivity -- Spanish Prisoner Chess

This last year my kids and I got really into chess. We even went to a few chess tournaments in the Portland and Vancouver area and the kids won some medals and trophies. It was fun to see the babysitters' reaction when my 6 year old would beat them at chess. I think the words "shock and awe" are appropriate. Kind of what I looked like when the kids locked me in this cellar!
In the story, Billy creates a game called Spanish Prisoner Chess. As far as I know, this is an original chess game that no one else has created (although I wouldn't doubt that in the long history of chess, someone has come up with something similar). The game is very similar to normal chess, the exception being that each player secretly puts a sticker under one of their own pieces. This sticker signifies that piece as the secret king. The way you win the game is to take the other person's secret king. All of the pieces move the same as before. If a knight is your secret king, it still moves 2 spaces one direction and then 1 space in the other. The kids and I have played this version quite a bit, and really enjoyed it. It levels the playing field between more experienced and novice players, and changes the tactics since you have to figure out which piece you want to get. If you try it out, let me know what you think.
I tried to challenge the kids to a game of Spanish Prisoner chess with the wager that if I won I would be set free. My astute children decided against it. They are single minded in their objective to turn me into a full time children's author.
P.S. I think there is a rat down here.

Day 3 of Captivity -- Identifying my Attackers

I thought it would be helpful for you to know and be able to recognize the perpetrators of this crime against me. Here is a picture I shot with my cell phone. If you see these three, avoid them at all costs. Then again, I wouldn't mind some company down here...

Day 2 of Captivity -- Trip to Church

The children let me out to go to church today. I agreed to make chili for dinner if they would. Unfortunately, they made me go to the little kids Sunday School so that they could keep an eye on me. They only had enough of the "adult" chairs for the teachers, so I had to sit in a little kids chair, 1 foot off the floor, with my knees up to my shoulders. I looked like a 7 foot tall basketball player waiting for my turn to get into the game.
I've been outlining the next book but I've been informed that I have to start writing it now and reading them draft chapters--or else! Hopefully I can post some of what I write here.
Oh, one more thing. I would ask that if you call the house to speak to me, please don't mention that you know anything about me being locked in the cellar. The kids have threatened to move me to a dungeon, with no internet access, if I tell anyone about my captivity. If you need to talk to me, say that you're calling about the book, and you want to know if it is still available. That is our best hope of actually getting to talk.
Until then . . .

Day 1 of Captivity -- Writing from the Cellar

My children decided that I was not accomplishing enough on my own and have banished me to the cellar. I'm still allowed to go to my day job at Intel, but the rest of my time is spent down here in the darkness, typing away on my laptop: writing the next book in my middle grade mystery series, and sending out query letters to literary agents.
I tried to tell them that these things take time, and that neither literary agents nor creative endeavors can be forced. They said that I spend too much time reading, doing yard work, and playing with them when I'm home. They've decided that my time would be much better spent creating new stories for them and working to get my book published. Their hope is that I will become as successful as JK Rowling, and be able to quit my job and dedicate myself to writing stories for them all of the time.
Anyways, I would really appreciate any help you can provide in obtaining representation and then getting my series published. I believe that the books will be a great success, in addition to helping lots of boys that are reluctant readers, but most of all I just want to get out of this cellar!

First Three Chapters of Andrew Johnson and the Spanish Prisoner

Here are the first three chapters from my book, Andrew Johnson and the Spanish Prisoner. If you'd like to read the whole book, email me at mdayley1@gmail.com and you can become one of my early readers that has a say in how the book and series is formed. I've had a lot of positive and helpful feedback from several readers so far.

Chapter 1
“42, 22, 36” Andrew said to himself as he carefully turned the numbers on his safe.
The tumblers moved and the safe door opened. Inside were stacks of bills; he carefully counted all of them.
“One Thousand, four hundred and seventy eight dollars,” he said to himself as he finished. ‘Not bad at all.”
His goal was to save enough to enable him to start investing. Not in the stock market. He was savvier than that, plus his Dad wouldn’t open up an account for him yet because he didn’t think a 14 year old should be that into money.
“There’s more to life,” his Dad would always say.
“We’ll see if that’s what he thinks when I’m a millionaire at thirty,” Andrew boasted to himself.
He’d heard about a survey where a group of high school seniors were asked what they wanted to do with their lives. Only about 1% knew the answer. Twenty years later that 1% had all grown up to be millionaires.
Andrew was only 14, but he’d known for the last five years what he wanted to be when he grew up: Warren Buffet, the sage of Omaha, the richest man in the world. Warren Buffet, who, as a young man, took the money he’d made on his paper route and invested it in pinball machines.
The biggest question on Andrew’s mind was where to invest his money. He’d spent two years mowing lawns and delivering papers to build up this little nest egg, and now he was ready to put it to work.
“It has to be big,” he thought to himself as he put the money back into the safe. “If I’m going to be independently wealthy by the time I’m thirty, I need to make a lot of money in a hurry.”


The only thing Andrew loved half as much as money was chess. When other kids were going to basketball camp or soccer games, he was pouring over chess books and playing Chessmaster for hours on his computer. His hard work had paid off and he felt proud as he surveyed the thirty-seven first place trophies he’d accumulated since he was six years old. “Warren Buffet likes to play bridge with his wealthy friends,” Andrew thought to himself. “My wealthy friends will play chess.”
Andrew remembered the first time he’d fallen in love with chess. He’d already learned the basics from his Dad as a five-year old, but he quickly lost interest once he’d mastered the rules. When he was six a friend in the school’s chess club challenged him to a game. Believing his skills to be superior, Andrew accepted, and then proceeded to lose to his friend in only four moves.
“That was my first real lesson,” Andrew once explained, “How to beat someone in four moves.” He actually used that a couple of times when he first started playing in tournaments. His coach said it was unsportsmanlike and threatened not to let him play if he kept using it against the other six-year olds who were just learning chess strategy. As he moved up the rankings he found that the four move checkmate didn’t work anymore anyways. It was easy to block if you knew what you were doing, and at higher levels, everyone knew what he was doing.
He’d learned other moves since then and specialized in quick check mates. He made the top players nervous, because he was always setting traps and going for the quick kill. His rating was now 1412. If he stuck to his plan, he was sure he would exceed 2000 by the time he was 17, then he’d be a Chess Master and surely the state champion. His coach had told him to play a more measured game and learn to win slowly, but he preferred the advice of Andre Agassi’s tennis coach who had taught the tennis prodigy to keep hitting the ball as hard as he could knowing that eventually it would go in.
Scholastic Chess Season had begun, and he was at his third tournament of the year. He’d won his first two rounds and was sitting at a table reading a book by Bobby Fisher, the former World Champion, when a teenage boy in jeans and a black t-shirt approached and said, “Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure,” Andrew said.
“Can you tell me what en pasant is?”
“It would be easier to show you. Why don’t you take a seat?”
“I’m Billy,” the teenager said extending his hand after sitting down across from Andrew.
“I’m Andrew,” he replied as he set up the pieces.
Andrew proceeded to show Billy what en pasant was and then went on to demonstrate Castling and what a draw was as well.
“Have you played much chess?” Andrew asked.
“I’m just a beginner,” Billy replied. “I was actually hoping they’d have a beginner area, but it turns out I’m too old.”
“Yeah, they only do that for elementary school kids,” Andrew explained. “So, do you want to play a game?”
“Sure,” Billy said.
Andrew knew just what to do, and four moves later he was explaining to Billy how to avoid getting beaten so quickly.
The following Saturday they saw each other again at another tournament and spent much of the time between rounds talking over chess games with Andrew trying to bring Billy up to the level where he could beat somebody.
Late in the day, Billy asked an intriguing question, “Say, do you know anyone who has lots of money here?”
“Why?” Andrew asked.
“I know someone who needs money to make a lot of money in a hurry. They said that within a month they can pay back double what they’re loaned.”
The bells went off in Andrew’s head, but he managed to maintain his composure. This was exactly the kind of deal he was looking for.
“Why don’t you give me the full story, and then I can tell you who might be able to help you.”
“Ok,” Billy said, “But you promise not to tell anyone without my permission?”
“Don’t worry,” Andrew replied, “You can trust me.”
Billy’s cousin had won a scholarship from an organization in Ohio while she was visiting her grandmother. The scholarship was for $20,000 and would pay for her college tuition and expenses. The problem was that she had to accept the money at an awards banquet in Ohio next Saturday and she didn’t have the $700 to pay for the flight.
“Why doesn’t she just ask the organization to pay for her travel expenses from her scholarship money?” Andrew asked.
“The scholarship is only for residents of Ohio,” Billy replied.
“And she lives in California?” Andrew asked.
Billy nodded and then explained, “She was the only person that even applied for the scholarship. If she doesn’t accept it, the money will just sit there.”
“Seems like a waste,” Andrew said.
“Exactly,” Billy exclaimed, “And whoever helps her with $700 will get back $1400 in a little over a week. But who has that much money?”
Andrew looked at Billy’s clothes and realized that seven hundred dollars must sound like a million dollars to him.
“So who is this cousin of yours?” Andrew asked nonchalantly.
“Her name is Kieran. You might actually know my cousin’s younger sister. Here. Take a look,” Billy said. He pulled a photograph out of his wallet and handed it to Andrew.
Andrew took the picture and stared at a picture of the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen.
Just then there was a bustle of activity near the corner of the gym where the matchings for the next round were posted.
“Let me think about it during this next round,” Andrew explained, “And I’ll see if I can think of anyone who can help you.”
“I’d appreciate it,” Billy said, nodding.
Andrew had difficulty concentrating during his next chess game. “Seven hundred dollars and the girl,” he kept thinking to himself.
When he finished his round, Billy was at their table waiting for him.
“So did you think of anyone?” Billy asked.
“Me,” Andrew replied.
“You have seven hundred dollars?” Billy asked incredulously.
“I’m worth twice that amount,” Andrew announced.
“I don’t think my parents even have that much money,” Billy continued, and Andrew sat across from him beaming with pride.



Chapter 2
Andrew walked into the Dairy Queen on Wednesday night and immediately walked over to Billy and sat across from him.
“Did you bring the money?” Billy asked.
“Yeah,” Andrew said, and then handed over the envelope to Billy.
Billy’s eyes got big as he counted out the money. He leaned across the table and whispered, “I don’t think I’ve seen this much money in my whole life.”
“Should we get something to eat?” Andrew asked.
“I don’t know about you but I don’t feel comfortable sitting around here with this kind of money,” Billy said.
“I understand,” Andrew replied. “Are you going to be at the Westview Open on Saturday?”
“Yep,” Billy replied, “I’ll see you then?”
“Sounds good,” Andrew said, and then they left the restaurant and headed home.
The next Saturday, Andrew found Billy after the first round sitting at a corner table.
“I missed my first round,” Billy said, “But its ok, I was going to play someone with a 1400 rating, so he would have beaten me anyways.”
“True,” Andrew replied.
“Hey guess what?” Billy said.
“She’s got the money already?” Andrew exclaimed.
“No not yet, but it’s actually better than that,” Billy replied. “The reason I was so late was because I was up talking to Monica last night.”
Andrew looked at Billy with a confused expression.
“Monica is the one in the picture.”
“Oh,” Andrew said, “Monica.”
“Yeah,” Billy replied, “We were talking for like three hours. She wanted to know everything about you. Finally I just told her that I would get your email address so she could contact you directly. She made me promise I wouldn’t leave the tournament without it.”
“Sure,” Andrew exclaimed and wrote his email address on Billy’s notation booklet.
“Oh, and her older sister told me to thank you and give you a hug (which I’m not going to do by the way.) She also said that she should have the money when she comes home next Wednesday and that she can send the money with me to the tournament next Saturday.”
“Sounds good to me,” Andrew said.
“Do you want to play a new game I thought of?” Billy said. “It’s like chess but it means that I actually have a chance to win.”
“Sure,” Andrew replied.
Billy called the game The Spanish Prisoner, and it was exactly like normal chess except that each player secretly placed a sticker underneath one of his own pieces. That piece represented the Secret King, and the point of the game was to capture your opponents Secret King before he captured yours.
Andrew won the first two games they played, but Billy won the third and he was ecstatic. Andrew thought about pointing out how much chance was involved in The Spanish Prisoner as opposed to real chess, which was more strategic, but then thought better of it. This was Billy’s moment in the sun.


The next morning Andrew had an email waiting for him in his inbox.

Dear Andrew,
So my cousin Billy told me that you’re the guy that is going to make it possible for my sister to go to college. What can I say but that you are awesome!
A little bit about myself . . . I’m fourteen years old. I love snow skiing and I love reading. I work part-time in my Dad’s office (he’s an accountant). I’m a huge fan of the Beatles, and Hannah Montana (but I hate to admit it. I actually went to her concert last month, and I think I was won of the oldest non-Parents there. The concert was still awesome though.) My last boyfriend turned out to be a real jerk, and so I’m still searching for my knight in shining armor.
How about you? Can you tell me about yourself?
Love,
Monica

Andrew wrote and rewrote his email response over thirty times. He still wasn’t happy with his message, but several days had passed and he couldn’t wait any longer. He’d never been this nervous before.

Dear Monica,
I was glad to help your sister. I’m glad that scholarship money will help her. Did she have a safe trip and did they award her the scholarship?
I am also fourteen years old, and I love reading financial books and playing chess. I’ve never been snow skiing. Maybe we could go together some day and you could teach me? I spent the summer mowing lawns and delivering newspapers, but I’m not working right now. My primary goal is to be a millionaire by the time I’m thirty. I’m not dating anyone right now either.
Sincerely,
Andrew

When he got home from school the next day he opened his email and saw that Monica had already written him back.

Dear Andrew,
Good news and bad news. I’m going skiing with some friends in a month and we have an extra seat. Would you like to go? I wouldn’t mind spending time with you on the bunny slope until you learn how to ski.
The bad news is that Kieran (my sister) found out in Ohio that the Lions Club gave the money directly to the University and that the school won’t distribute the money to her until she registers. Unfortunately, the school won’t allow her to register until they get her transcripts from the Community College where she took some classes last summer. And, the Community College won’t send her transcripts until she finishes paying off the tuition for the classes she took there. She still owes seven hundred dollars. As soon as the payment is made, the transcripts will be delivered to the University. At that point she can go and pick up a check for twenty thousand dollars. Of course, $1400 of this goes directly to our Hero.
Do you have any advice? Classes start in a week, and she is supposed to be registered already.
Love, Monica

Andrew’s dreams were filled with visions of snow skiing with Monica. He calculated the cost of the ski trip to be at least fifty dollars, but decided that it was worth it. “A whole day with Monica,” he sighed to himself. The next day he composed the following email:

Hey Monica,
Count me in on the ski trip. Please send the details as soon as you can, including what I need to bring. I’m really looking forward to meeting you in person.
I can provide another seven hundred to your sister to cover her tuition debts at the Community College. She doesn’t have to double the money again this time. She can just pay me $2100 when she gets her money in a week.
Sincerely,
Andrew

Late that night he received another email from Monica:

To My Knight in Shining Armor,
You’re the best!!! Kieran couldn’t believe that you’d be willing to do that for her, but I wasn’t surprised. She says she is sooooo sorry she hasn’t gotten you your money back yet, but that she’s sure this will be the last hurdle.
I wish all guys were like you. My last boyfriend was so obsessed with himself. You’re the most generous person I know.
As far as skiing goes, Kieran insisted that she pay for you to go with the extra from her scholarship money. Do you want lessons? It costs a bit more but Kieran said she’d pay for it. I wouldn’t mind taking some again too since I’m really not the best skier yet.
Love,
Monica
P.S. You can just give the money to Billy tomorrow at the tournament. He’s coming over on Sunday for a family dinner thing, so he can give it to Kieran then.
P.P.S. I’ll let you know as soon as Kieran has the money. I have a little surprise for you then.



Chapter 3
“So I hear you and Monica have emailed each other this week,” Billy exclaimed when he saw Andrew.
“Once or twice,” Andrew said.
“Monica printed out both of your emails and posted them on her bulletin board,” Billy exclaimed. “She’s kind of a hopeless romantic. She likes to refer to you as her ‘Knight in Shining Armor.’”
Andrew was speechless. This girl was perfect for him.
“So, you want to play some more Spanish Prisoner?” Billy asked.
“Sure,” Andrew replied.
Toward the end of the day, Andrew handed Billy an envelope with the other seven hundred dollars in it, and said, “This is for Kieran.”
“Thanks,” Billy said, “She told me that I should expect some money from you again. She said something about tuition debts or something keeping her from the scholarship money. I still don’t know where you came up with the money. That’s so awesome though.”
“It was nothing,” Andrew replied coolly.
Sunday night Andrew sent Monica another email.

Dear Monica,
I think lessons would be a good idea, especially if you’d be willing to take them with me.
I gave the money to Billy yesterday, so hopefully he’s already gotten it to Kieran.
Do you play chess?
Love,
Andrew

Andrew nervously checked his email on both Monday and Tuesday, about 10 times. On Wednesday night he finally got the email he had been waiting for.

Dear Andrew,
My sister’s transcripts were cleared today and she registered for her classes. Late this afternoon she stopped by the scholarship office and picked up her check for twenty thousand dollars. TWENTY THOUSAND DOLLARS!!!
You are so awesome! I don’t know how my sister could have ever afforded college without your help.
She gave me fifty dollars to take you out to dinner on Friday and give you your $2100 then. I heard about this Italian Restaurant called Don Luciano’s that I think is pretty close to your house. Can you meet me there on Friday night for dinner? I’m thinking 8pm.
Love,
Monica
P.S. I don’t play chess but you could teach me. Billy says you’re really good.

“Awesome,” Andrew shouted from his room.
His Mom suddenly opened the door and asked, “What happened?”
“Oh nothing, just good news from a friend,” Andrew replied.
“Ok,” his Mother said as she closed the door.
After she left Andrew composed the following email.

Dear Monica,
That’s great news! I’d love to have dinner with you on Friday night, and I know exactly where Don Luciano’s is. I’ll see you there.
Love,
Andrew

Andrew carefully ironed his shirt on Friday night. He hadn’t told his parents about the money or the date, because he knew they wouldn’t approve of Kieran getting a scholarship to which she wasn’t really entitled.
“The money would have just sat there,” he said to himself, as if answering his Dad’s potential arguments.
His parents had gone out to dinner and a movie and they wouldn’t be back until late.
He looked at the clock when he arrived at the restaurant and saw that it was only 7:50. The waiter greeted him and led him back to a romantic table where Monica had made reservations for the two of them. Andrew glanced around the restaurant taking in the surroundings. A waiter approached him and asked him if he wanted a drink and if he was ready to order.
“Sprite with no ice,” he replied, “And I’m waiting for a friend.”
Half an hour later the waiter came up to the table and said, “Sir would you like to order an appetizer while you wait for your guest?”
Andrew felt obligated, so he ordered a starter off the menu and then continued to wait.
At 8:30 a couple sat down at the table next to him. Andrew overheard them talking about their marriage and he surmised from their conversation that this dinner was meant to celebrate their 10th wedding anniversary. Maybe this is where Monica and I will come for our anniversaries.
In order to calm his anxiety he had been drinking continuously. After drinking four Sprites his waiter had left a pitcher at the table and stopped coming by to refill his glass. Unfortunately, by 9:00, he had to go to the bathroom. He was sure Monica would be here any minute. If he got up, she would probably see an empty table and assume he’d left already since she was so late.
“Excuse me,” he said to the married couple sitting at the next table, “I’m expecting a girl named Monica to join me. I need to run to the restroom for a minute. If she comes while I’m away, can you tell her I’ll be right back?”
“Sure,” the husband replied.
Andrew walked to the bathroom as fast as he could without being too conspicuous and raced back again afterwards. After seeing the still empty table, he approached the couple and asked, “Did she come?”
“You were only gone for one minute.”
“Thanks anyways,” Andrew replied and assumed his seat at the table again.
“I should have gotten her phone number,” he chastised himself.
He waived for the waiter who approached him cautiously.
“More Sprite sir?” the waiter asked.
“No, thank you,” Andrew said, “Has anyone called for me?”
“No sir,” the waiter said, “I would have let you know. Might I interest you in some dinner?”
Andrew was ready to eat but he couldn’t start without Monica, no matter how late she came.
“I’m sure my friend will be here in just a few minutes,” Andrew said. “I want to wait.”
The waiter looked frustrated but didn’t say anything and walked away.
Andrew studied the people at the other tables. Almost everyone was on a date, which made Andrew even more anxious to see Monica. The exception was the table next to him on the right and the table just ahead of him. A teenage boy sat at each of these tables. “I doubt that their dates are as pretty as mine,” he thought.
Just then, the head waiter approached holding a folded piece of paper in his hands.
“Excuse me sir,” he said, “but I have a message for you.”
Andrew perked up immediately. Monica must have gotten sick or something and sent a message.
“Great,” Andrew answered, “What did she say?”
“Sir,” the waiter began, “The man who gave me this message specifically told me that I had to read it to you and the other two gentlemen at these nearby tables at the same time.”
“Oh,” Andrew said and then watched as the waiter explained this to the other boys. They all watched the waiter nervously as he unfolded the paper and then read, “Andrew, Jonathan, and Craig. It’s been really great getting to know you guys, but I’m afraid that I must now move on to bigger and better things. Unfortunately, there is no scholarship so you won’t be getting your money back. Oh, and one more thing. I am the Spanish Prisoner. And you, my friends, are the Marks. Sincerely, Billy.”