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About Tehuti
I am an amateur writer of novels, serials, and novellas. Most of my work is in the genres of fantasy, mythology, drama, occult, GLBT, and erotica.
As I'm not seeking publication, I offer my work online for free reading. I'm not seeking stylistic critique so much as feedback from people who just like reading what I write. I love hearing what people think of my characters, plots, themes, etc., so if you have any comments or advice on those, feel free to share. I'm not hugely popular and often go many months without hearing from readers so I enjoy all the comments I get!
My interests are Ojibwa mythology, Mackinac Island, Egyptian mythology, Jungian symbolism and dream interpretation, ritual crime, fantasy writing, and various other things you can find in my personal bio, available just to the right. Please click to learn more about me and what I'm looking for in terms of readers and potential friends.
Feel free to hit me up if you're interested in any of these things, and enjoy my writing!
Tar! :) |
Part 5: Confidence Man Main story folder & table of contents: "Escape From Manitou Island" 
Previous chapter: "Part 4: Enemy's Plea"
PART FIVE:
Confidence Man
CHARMIAN STARTED TO pull herself out of the doorway of the medicine lodge, Augwak clutching at the skins and yelling after her in a panicked screech.
"He--HE WAS A MANITOU!!"
Charmian froze, one foot hovering over the ground. She turned her head to peer back over her shoulder, seeing the panic in Augwak's eyes, the tone of his voice enough to convince her that he was telling her the truth. She hesitated before pulling her leg back in and letting the doorflap fall shut. She glared at him.
"A manitou?" she echoed.
Augwak blinked when he realized that he'd caught her attention, then nodded, head bobbing up-down-up-down-up-down. Charmian continued staring at him for a moment, then scowled and stomped further into the room. She sat down on the cedar bough she'd pulled out from the pallet and crossed her arms.
"TALK," she ordered, making him wince. "Tell me EVERYTHING he said and did. If you leave anything out--I'll wring your pencil-neck myself."
Augwak made a face but nodded again. "I--it's as I told you, fleshling. I was simply minding my own business, when he appeared out of nowhere! And challenged me! He asked me if I was the most powerful upon the Island. I asked him why he wished to know. He never did explain himself, just kept repeating the same thing as if his skull were as thick as a tree! When it became clear I was not who he was looking for, he attacked me! Struck me and threw me and pummeled me like there was no tomorrow! It pains me to say this but I couldn't do a thing to faze him!!"
"What did he look like?" Charmian asked.
The GeeBee spread both of his arms out wide. "HUGE! Gigantic fellow, positively GARGANTUAN! All bedecked in paint and feathers and wampum! The likes of which I have never once seen before!"
"How did you know he was a manitou?"
He gesticulated now. "Mainly--because he beat ME so easily! But also--" he pulled his arms back on seeing the look on her face "--but also--because of his eyes!" He pointed at his eyes. "Brilliant blue they were! Only manitous have eyes like that! And strange mainlanders of YOUR sort!"
"Why is it that he picked a fight with you if you weren't what he was looking for?" Charmian demanded.
Augwak shrugged and shook his head. "I cannot say, fleshling! Only that perhaps he was frustrated that he didn't find what he was looking for--?"
"What was that he asked you again?" When he gave her a blank look she frowned. "Before he started beating you up. He asked if you were the most powerful--?" A nod. "Why?"
A shake. "I do not know, fleshling! But that I did! Maybe it would help me get on his GOOD side, if he has one!" She lifted her hand as if to strike him and he winced and shielded his face. "All right! All right! I don't mean it! All I can guess is--perhaps he was looking for someone else--? Someone he expected to find here, yet did not! He seemed to know what he was seeking, at least, as he wasted precious little time on ME!"
"Looking for someone on the Island...?" Charmian's voice trailed off and she frowned vaguely. "Who here would be so powerful that he'd want to do that...?"
Augwak shook his head. "I do not know, fleshling, but whatever the reason is, he's got my medicine! I felt it leave me before he left! Perhaps he's collecting medicine to make HIMSELF the most powerful--?" He gasped, then clapped his hands together. "This must be it! Why he attacked ME first off--he wishes his OWN medicine to be the most powerful within the land! This is surely it!--isn't it? Isn't it--?"
"I don't know." Charmian was unconvinced. "After all, if he's nearly as powerful as you say, I doubt he'd spend more than he absolutely has to on getting your energy. He'd expend more power just taking it from you than he would otherwise." The GeeBee's face fell and her stare drifted to the floor. "The most powerful on the Island," she murmured. "That would be Ocryx...wouldn't it?" She looked toward the ceiling now. "For some reason it's not so hard to believe that Ocryx could've gotten on somebody's bad side...maybe this is all about him after all."
Augwak's face twisted up. "The demon? You mean to tell me that I nearly got myself killed because of that DEMON--?"
"Whatever it is, it can wait another hour or two," Charmian said, and got to her feet. He cast her a confused look. "When were you brought in here--? Yesterday? That means he's not coming back for you. And I was told that nothing weird's been happening lately, which means he isn't ringing any alarm bells just yet. So I'll get a few other little things out of the way, and then see what this is all about. Ocryx is a big boy, and knows how to take care of himself."
"But--but--!!" Augwak's voice started cracking again as she headed for the entryway. "FLESH-LIIINNNG! You mean after all I just gave you you're going to LEAVE me like this?!"
"Well, what else am I supposed to do?" She glanced back at him with a frown. "You said you told me all you know! Besides, if I'm going to be looking into this, I hardly want to be doing it all alone! I'm just going to check out the Island, then I'll get right on this. In the meantime, you're safest if you stay here."
The GeeBee's lip started quivering and he squinched his eyes shut, letting out a strange keening sound. Charmian rolled her eyes and lifted the flap.
"Just try not to bother the drummers too much or you won't have anybody looking after you anymore."
Augwak immediately ceased whining and clapped his hands to his mouth. Charmian left the lodge and set foot outside into the warming air again, rubbing at her neck and sighing.
Great. I show up for some relaxation for a change...and somebody decides to make Augwak into a punching bag. Any other time, that'd be good news. If it were Ocryx or Mitchi Manitou doing it. But some strange manitou...
Looking for somebody, no less. Why seek the most powerful unless you have a beef with them? I don't like the sound of this...
She passed the drummers and set foot in the middle of the camp, glancing around. Thankfully, Black Elk Horn seemed to have departed, though a small group of Islanders still sat in a circle musing over the Swiss army knife; she shrugged and decided not to think about it. She wondered where she should go to first, and pondered her options.
Stick, Mani, and Thomas, she thought. I want to see them again the most! And Red Bird and Tal Natha...cripes, there are just so many! I don't know where they might be at the moment, but I know where Thomas should be...
She winced to herself. "I just hope he hasn't aged ten years," she murmured uneasily, and turned for the pathway which led toward town. As she started walking she heard a running noise behind her, then a voice called out.
"Charmian! Wait! Hold up!"
She blinked and stopped, looking back. Winter Born was racing across the camp toward her, carrying a bunch of flowers in her hand; she caught up and slowed down beside her, panting and brushing a few loose hairs out of her eyes.
"I thought you were looking for Stick-In-The-Dirt and White Deer," Charmian said, puzzled.
"Huh?" Winter Born said; then, "Oh." She held up the flowers and blushed. "I didn't find Stick...White Deer was there though...she said she'd love to come back and see you, at least, as soon as she's done..." She glanced back up at Charmian and smiled brightly. "She's going to be a medicine woman, too! Just like me! See? These are doveroot...they call them that because they have the white flowers on them..."
"You're coming to town with me?" Charmian said, and Winter Born's head shot up, her eyes bright. "Won't Black Elk Horn get upset...?"
Winter Born lowered her head a little. "Oh...well...he doesn't like me going down there by myself..." Her face lit up again. "But--I'm going there with you! So--I'm not alone!"
I rather get the feeling he had a few more stipulations than just that, Charmian thought, but couldn't stand the thought of making her sad. "You're sure you wouldn't rather hang out with White Deer?" she asked instead.
Winter Born frowned a little. "'Hang out'?"
A nod. "Stick around with...hang out. It looks like you're interested in the same things, at least, and town is pretty boring."
She shook her head. "Nuh-uh, it isn't! It's INTERESTING down there! That's where all of the interesting things happen! Besides, I already know all my plants." She stuffed the flowers haphazardly in a pouch at her side. "But don't tell White Deer that...she might feel bad! She sometimes has trouble remembering some names."
"Okay," Charmian said, and this earned another odd look.
"Oh-kay?" Winter Born echoed.
Charmian nodded. "It means...everything's all right. Good. Okay."
Winter Born seemed to mull over the word a little, then brightened once more. "Oh-kay." She started skipping. "Okay!"
Charmian watched her go before following, a little bit more slowly. Looks like I've got a hanger-on, she thought. And I can't believe I'm giving LINGUISTICS lessons, of all things. She made a face, but picked up her pace to catch up before the girl could get away from her.
* * * * *
The canoe had been drifting across the water for what seemed like forever...not that its occupant was much aware of the passage of time, anymore.
He lay upon his back, one arm draped over its edge, his eyes shut and his muscles loose. He wore a red uniform, which had been stained additionally with yet more red; his foot was propped up against the opposite side of the canoe as if he had been dropped into it unceremoniously and without any forethought. The paddle was missing. The canoe drifted slowly away from the mainland, and into a dense bank of fog floating above the lake; and from there, to any observers near the fort upon the mainland, it would have vanished from view.
The wind picked up a little, and wavelets began bobbing it upon the surface; still its lone occupant didn't awaken. After a long while, dark shapes faded into view beneath the water, slithering through the lake, winding back and forth, yellow-green eyes glimmering. They swam beneath the canoe, looking it over, sniffing beneath the water, testing it with their whiskers. As soon as they determined that it was harmless, their tails began splashing from the water, striking against its sides, batting against the waves to make them bigger; the canoe bobbed even more, swaying crazily from side to side and threatening to capsize. The tails batted it back and forth as if it were a ball skimming the surface; then, when the players lost interest, they began to drift away, a few heads on long necks rising out of the water, peering around, then sliding back down out of view again. For a few moments, the waves continued sloshing against the sides of the canoe, propelling it ever further away from the mainland and the besieged fort, and ever closer to the small Island which now arose out of the thinning fog.
The canoe managed to slip into the shallow water, one last wave pushing it up onto the shore where it came to rest not far from the great Arch looming overhead. The waves retreated and the shore was left in silence, but for the distant cry of gulls and the faint trickling of the springs.
* * * * *
Charmian and Winter Born at last made their way out onto the wide trail winding over the hill and down toward the town along the beach. As they crested the hill, Winter Born skipping and humming, Charmian chewed on her lip and stared at the road that they walked. Her chest hurt merely from the thought of setting foot down there.
What if it's changed again? The last time I was here...there were PROSTITUTES in the Fur Company!! PROSTITUTES! I'm no prude, but--STILL!
And Thomas...who knows what will have happened to him? Chakenapok said he's still here...but that was Chakenapok...and what if he's changed too much? I don't know if I could stand to face him, if we're so different now...
"Charmian?" She lifted her head to see Winter Born staring back at her with a puzzled look. "What's wrong?" she asked, furrowing her brow.
"Huh...? Oh." Charmian shook her head and forced an unconvincing smile. "Nothing...I'm just...kind of anxious about meeting a friend of mine, that's all."
"Isn't meeting friends a good thing?"
"Well, usually...except that I'm worried he's changed a lot. That happened, the last time I came here...even this time...the last time I was here, for example, you weren't around yet, which is a pretty big change!"
"Oh." Winter Born frowned a little, then brightened. "Well...it's a good thing that I'm here now, isn't it--?" When Charmian furrowed her brow and nodded she smiled. "Then it's got to be a good thing to meet your friend again, no matter what! C'mon!" She turned and started skipping again, and Charmian was forced to follow, unable to keep her own mouth from twitching.
Well, since she put it that way, I guess I don't really have a choice...
Winter Born skipped over the top of the hill and Charmian followed. She actually blinked and held her eyes shut, slowing to a stop and taking in a deep breath, before opening them again and looking down at the town. Her first time here, it had been barely more than a dingy little village along a rutted dirt road. Her second time here, it had been considerably bigger and much busier, people of at least two or three different centuries bustling along its still-muddy road. By now, she rather expected it to be a paved street, with streetlamps, and pastel-painted shops selling all sorts of tacky souvenirs...and fudge...
Which was why what she did see ended up surprising her.
Winter Born was already skipping her way down the hill. It led to the main street leading through the town...and it was still just a dirt road...but all of the squalor and disorder of the previous town was now gone. There were still a good number of people, but most of them were near the shore, overlooking a flotilla of canoes which were just pulling in, and those who were wandering up and down the street did so with a sense of purpose, neither rushing nor holding up traffic. A horse carriage passed through here and there but most people were on foot. There were narrow sidewalks now, and women in long dresses took these; lanterns hung from poles, but they were unlit, and the fronts of the shops and residences seemed freshly painted, just as she'd feared, yet they seemed less tacky, more in place, here than on the other island. A small native village had even sprung up on the shore just beyond the Fur Company buildings and Charmian blinked when she thought she saw a familiar figure down among them. She turned toward the little camp and started walking again.
Winter Born halted and stared back at her. "Charmian! Where are you going--?"
"Just checking something out," Charmian called back; Winter Born frowned a bit in puzzlement, then shrugged and turned, skipping back toward her. Charmian picked her way down a rutted trail toward the camp and looked at the little wigwams and tipis which had been erected here, a small bit of chaos outside the more orderly town.
Most of the inhabitants were gathered around one very small tent which stood just upon the shore's edge, their faces intent and engrossed. Charmian could hear yelling coming from inside the tent, and frowned, slowing her step; as she neared, she saw that it was shaking and bobbing from side to side, and her puzzlement only grew. The natives were staring at this and murmuring to each other as if it were something quite intriguing.
Winter Born caught up and peered at the tent herself. "Any idea what this is all about?" Charmian asked, and the girl shook her head.
"I've heard about it, but every time I ask, Mother says I'm too young to learn about it yet," she replied, and made a face. "I think I'm old enough! I'm going to look for my vision soon!" She resumed skipping. "Maybe they'll let us see what it is...?"
Charmian sought out the figure she'd spotted earlier, at last seeing him at the far side of the camp, standing outside the ring of people and also staring at the odd event. She skirted the crowd and made her way toward him, her face alight.
"Stick!" she called, blushing a bit when a few of the other natives glanced at her. "Hey, Stick!"
The native standing at the far end of the camp turned his head to look at her, and blinked. Stick-In-The-Dirt looked out of place even here; whereas all of the others were clad in shirts and pants and dresses and hats, he wore nothing more than a breechcloth and moccasins, and the necklaces and fetishes and feathers that he always wore. His eyes grew wide as soon as he saw her, and she smiled and waved, jogging toward him. The medicine man had been the very first Islander she had met, now seemingly so long ago, and her last time here, he had even informally adopted her into his family. She rather thought of him as a kindly uncle now, even if he wasn't the most skilled at his profession, and had a bit of a cowardly streak. He had spoken up against Black Elk Horn the last time, though, which she supposed was probably one of the bravest things he'd ever done. She waved at him again and he turned to face her, looking surprised.
"Charmian?" he asked as she came close, and then glanced at Winter Born, who tagged along after her. "Winter Born--?"
"Guess who I found in the woods!" Winter Born exclaimed cheerily.
"Hey, Stick!" Charmian greeted, and was happy to see a tentative smile make its way to his face; he was always so timid and gloomy, that any little bit of cheer he showed was more than enough. "How're you doing?"
"You came back through your dreamcatcher?" he asked, overlooking her question, and she nodded and pulled it out to show him. "I was near Arch Rock not that long ago and didn't see you!"
"Well...it's kind of complicated." Charmian made a face. "I think I actually took a detour." She put the hoop away. "But I'm here now! I thought I'd stop by and relax a little bit! See how the other half lives!"
He cocked his head at the same time that Winter Born did. "Other half of--?"
She shook her head and waved it off. "Nothing, nothing. So Stick..." She glanced at the spectacle taking place at the other side of the camp. "...What's going on here, exactly? What's everybody staring at?"
A dark look settled over Stick-In-The-Dirt's face. "It is a shaking tent ceremony," he grumbled. "Or at least, it is supposed to be."
"Shaking tent...?" Charmian frowned slightly.
He nodded. "This is when a jessakid--a medicine man--steps into the tent, and calls upon Michinimakinak for guidance or wisdom."
"Michinimakinak? I've heard that name before. Niskigwun used it the last time I was here."
The medicine man nodded. "He would likely know, as he is Michinimakinong himself. Michinimakinak is the Great Turtle, he who speaks for the Island itself. They say the Island is settled upon his back." He gestured at the tent. "It is the purpose of the jessakid to step into the tent and call upon him when needed--to seek out missing objects, missing people, to give advice. When he is called upon properly, he can bring great wisdom. Jessakids are well respected and feared for this ability. Only certain people can aspire to this."
"Aren't you one of them--?"
He shook his head. "I am merely a nanandawi. Not a jessakid." The dark look on his face grew. "Not that I would do the job much worse," he muttered under his breath.
Charmian blinked, then raised her eyebrows. In all the time that she'd known him, Stick-In-The-Dirt had never struck her as being jealous or spiteful about anything--yet what was that she'd just heard in his voice...? "Huh...?" she murmured, perplexed, Winter Born staring at the crowd of entranced people. "Do you mean, you don't think the jessakids do a very good job...?"
Stick-In-The-Dirt snorted. "Jessakids are useful and much needed--when they do the job right!" He waved again at the tent. "THIS one is a fraud!"
Both Charmian and Winter Born blinked this time, then glanced at the tent. "A fraud...?" Charmian echoed, brow furrowing.
He nodded, scowling. "He is nothing but a sham!" He pretended to spit on the ground, and kicked at the earth, raising a little puff of dust. "He makes the REST of us look bad!"
"How do you know he's a fake?" Charmian asked. "I mean--maybe he's just really bad at what he does--?"
Stick-In-The-Dirt looked at her, aghast. "I am no jessakid but I know what it is that they do!" he insisted. "I have witnessed real shaking tent ceremonies...they would have one once in a great while, before the mainlanders came. Now..." He made a face. "Now it is just a joke! Look at it." Charmian did so when he gestured. "Do you know what he did before setting up that tent--? He asked everyone with a question to be answered for payment." He grimaced. "Payment! It is customary to give offerings, but only to Michinimakinak himself, and only to the jessakid once he has fulfilled his duties. To give them beforehand...to demand them...!" He raised his hands and clenched them and an indescribable look came to his face; Charmian and Winter Born actually took a step back from him, lest his head go flying off of his shoulders. "It was NEVER this way before!" he exclaimed at last, and waved at the tent. "It was respectful. Michinimakinak allows laughter, but only when it is sincere. Now this is nothing more than a silly little show put on to amaze everybody who doesn't know better." He waved now at the people in the little camp. "Most of them came not that long ago. They must be from a mainland different from the one my people came from. When they came here, I tried to talk with them, but they are more interested in the townspeople and the firewater and...this." He scowled at the tent.
Charmian craned her neck to get a better look at it. "So you mean there's actually nothing real going on in there--no spirits, no Michinimakinak or anything."
He shook his head. "Not a thing. I may not be the best at my profession...but I believe I would know Michinimakinak if he were to truly speak." His dark look grew. "I do not hear him here!"
"Any idea what this jessakid's name is?"
"His name is Loonfoot, that I recall. He came from the mainland--he has not even been here a year. I welcome these people here, but he's doing nothing but fooling them."
"So just tell them," Charmian suggested.
A miserable look settled upon his face. "I tried," he sighed. "But since I could not make the tent move, they didn't believe me." His scowl returned. "Any halfwit want-to-be medicine man can make a tent shake! But I don't know how he does it. I guess they want proof, here."
"I guess I can't blame them," Charmian said, and pursed her lips, then went walking through the camp. Stick-In-The-Dirt and Winter Born both gawked at her, then the girl hurried to follow; the medicine man gasped and did the same. He started gesticulating wildly.
"What are you doing?!"
"I'm going to give him a piece of my mind," Charmian said.
He bared his teeth. "HERE? NOW?"
"You said it's not a real ceremony, right?"
"This does not mean it's safe to just stumble in on it! Everybody here believes it's real!"
"Well, it's about time somebody showed them it isn't." She glanced back at him. "Trust me, Stick, I'll take care of it. You've never doubted me before, have you?"
He halted, and she left him standing behind, wringing his hands and shifting from foot to foot. Winter Born halted beside him and watched her go, and Charmian heard her speak up behind her.
"Is that true? That you never doubted her...?"
She didn't hear the medicine man's response. She carefully nudged her way through the ring of people nearest the tent, and paused to look at it as it wobbled and bobbed from side to side, everyone's eyes wide. She peered from left to right and saw how engrossed they all were, then looked back at the tent, just as a loud voice came from within, making her jump.
"AHA!" the voice boomed, oddly loud and hollow; everyone's eyes widened even more. "I HAVE FOUND THE VERY ITEM I AM LOOKING FOR. I CAN SEE IT NOW. IT GLIMMERS LIKE MOONLIGHT, AND RESTS BENEATH THE WATER."
A woman standing not far from Charmian gasped and waved her hand. "That's it! That's my lost mirror! I dropped it in the lake!"
"THIS ITEM IS NOT THAT FAR AWAY," the voice boomed. "NOT FAR AT ALL...IT IS JUST OFF THE SHORE OF MY ISLAND...JUST BENEATH THE WAVES. HOWEVER..." The voice here lowered a little bit, growing more gravelly. "AN ANGRY MANITOU HAS CLAIMED IT AS HIS OWN, AND I DO NOT BELIEVE IT MAY BE RETRIEVED...NOT WITHOUT A GREAT OFFERING, TO APPEASE HIM!" There was a pause during which everybody stared at the tent, rapt. "HE ACCEPTS TOBACCO, YET HE IS MUCH MORE FOND INDEED OF PELTS AND RUM!"
Charmian's jaw dropped. Everybody around the tent looked at each other and started nodding and murmuring. The woman with the lost mirror clasped her hands together and chewed on her lip, looking distressed; the men around her started chattering and nodding, and one of them yelled back at the tent.
"I have five beaver pelts on me, Great Turtle! Do you believe he will accept--?"
"I have a cask of rum back at home! Will this do--?"
The tent shook. "THE MANITOU WILL BE GREATLY PLEASED WITH YOUR OFFERINGS!"
Charmian clenched her fists and her eyes went livid. "Five beaver pelts and a keg of booze?" she hissed between clenched teeth. "THAT'S how much a mirror costs--?" She whirled to the woman and yelled so loudly that she jumped back. "Why don't you just BUY another one?"
All of the blood drained from Stick-In-The-Dirt's face. Winter Born's eyes widened. Everybody else turned to gawk at Charmian in utter disbelief. She whirled back to the tent and shouted at it.
"And YOU! Mind filling everybody in on how you're RIPPING THEM ALL OFF?"
The tent bobbed. "WHO DARES SPEAK TO THE GREAT TURTLE IN THIS MANNER?" the voice boomed.
Charmian scowled. "The name's CHARMIAN! If you were REALLY the Great Turtle you'd KNOW that by now!"
"AS IF THE GREAT TURTLE HAS TIME FOR SUCH PETTY PERSONS AS YOURSELF! BEGONE FROM THIS CEREMONY! YOU ARE TOO YOUNG TO BE HERE!" The tent bobbed. "AND TAKE THE STRANGE SNOW-HAIRED GIRL WITH YOU!"
Everybody glanced back, then gasped and started gingerly stepping away from the tent. Charmian frowned and looked over her shoulder to see Stick-In-The-Dirt and Winter Born still standing some distance away, the latter glancing around in great confusion. Charmian looked back at the tent, trying to make out any holes or openings where the person within could look out, but didn't see any.
The woman who had lost her mirror threw up one hand to point at her. "She offends Michinimakinak!! We will need to make an even GREATER offering!!"
Everybody started grumbling. "Wha--?" Charmian blurted out, then huffed. "It's just a stupid MIRROR! Get over it!" She turned to the tent and started stalking toward it. "And I don't know who YOU are but I'm getting tired of you already!"
Everybody gasped and began crying out in horror. Charmian reached the tent and grasped at the edge of the flap to pull it open. She yanked it aside and glared into the tent, then blinked in surprise.
A stooped old man glared back out at her, white hair hanging down over his shoulders and a feather stuck in his hat. He held a birchbark cone in one hand and something else in the other, and gave her the most malevolent look imaginable.
Charmian scowled. "Just like I thought! No Great Turtle to be found anywhere!"
"Foolish brat!" the old man snapped. "He is RIGHT HERE!"
Charmian opened her mouth. The old man flung his hand at the ground, and a great blast of light and noise filled the air, making her fall back out of the entryway, stunned.
Continue:
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This item is NOT looking for literary critique. I already understand spelling/grammar, and any style choices I make are my own. Likewise, I am NOT seeking publication, so suggestions on how to make this publishable are not being sought.
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