Lying is Universal Essay Example | Topics and Well Written Essays - 750 words

Lying is Universal - Essay Example For our older folks who have just passed most pieces of their lives, for example, our grandparents lying is such an inconsequential wonder, that they barely acknowledge when they are experiencing it. Basically they cause themselves to accept that whatever they are believing is correct and depends on only realities! It has frequently been seen that their considerations about any issue specifically are based over a progression of persistent falsehoods that they have caused themselves to accept as realities as opposed to something else! Regardless of whether it is brought up to them that what they are sayin is off base they guarantee to have never lied about anything ever. The following is a portrayal of such an event where an older individual lies about specific things without acknowledging what she is doing. Half a month back on a bright evening I was apathetically leaning back on my rocker fascinated in the bondage of my mid year excursions. â€Å"I can't discover my Ring! I have lo oked each where!† shouted my grandma. There was nothing else that could have taken my consideration off from the tension novel that I was perusing other than my grandmother’s comments. What was so exceptional about them was that she was discussing the so extremely well known ring that had a legend behind it. It was our family’s familial ring. ... In any case, today, when she had returned into her room after her morning tasks she had out of nowhere understood that she was not wearing her tribal ring. She was unable to review when she had taken it off and where she had put it. The main thing she knew was that she had looked into all the potential spots where the ring could as far as anyone knows have been yet futile. She could discover it no place. I and my kin offered our administrations to her and every single one of us occupied a different space to direct the â€Å"Ring-Hunt† in it. Under the couch, over the cupboard, adjacent to the fridge and underneath the room cover, after around 3 hours of consistent pursuit there was no spot left on our ground floor that we hadn’t turned upward. Meanwhile when we were caught up with looking through we could persistently hear grandma griping to each and everybody of her youngsters and companions via telephone that she had lost the ring and that she associated the housekeep er with having taken her centuries’ old ring. She was so convincingly telling everybody that the house keeper had taken her ring that the audience would get the possibility that grandma was penny percent sure in her colloquialism and that it was not only a nonexistent presumption that she was making. Is it true that she is not lying? I contemplated internally while looking into the ring in her storage room. In any case, she was talking as though she had seen the servant take the ring with her own eyes while just a couple of hours sooner had she referenced that she didn't remember where it that she had last observed the ring was. The following thing I heard was that she had broadened her Pretend-Story of Stolen Ring Even more. She had connected it with each time the house cleaner had ever referenced to grandmother that she truly valued the antique gems that she had. She rapidly

Supply side factors of drop out for students

Orchestrating to the National Plan for 2003-2015 ( 2003 ) of the Royal Government of Cambodia, Education for All ( EFA ) is the primary basic and inescapable measure for bettering and honing HR, which are needfully required for Cambodia ‘s financial battle in a dynamically planetary and provincial monetary framework. Driven by a figure of advancement be aftering ventures by the Royal Government of Cambodia, the constitution of EFA, which was affirmed by the Royal Government of Cambodia in 2002, came into result. In add-on, the National Plan accentuates that, to build up the state ‘s financial framework, Cambodia needs to ensure its ain countrywide essential guidance, essential and lower optional guidance, since the Government immovably trusts EFA is the first and unavoidable instrument for Cambodia to make its ain Socio Economic Development Plan II ( SEDP II ) by offices of evening out instructive dish among its both advantaged and distraught children. This EFA program is other than energized by the on-going Poverty Reduction Strategic Plan ( PRSP ) of 2002, which focuses on destitution decline in Cambodia since the Government found that it has been the central snare well loaning to hapless students ‘ dropouts in Cambodia Basic Education. A paper by United Nations Children ‘s Fun ( UNICEF ) ( 2007 ) , which laid out the cosmopolitan essential guidance by pointing making the disconnected in Cambodia, underlines that, to ensure EFA in Cambodia, it is fundamentally important to ensure correlativity between both gracefully and request driven components since the two variables are indivisible, interlaced tow-side outcome. This exploration, led by offices of writing reappraisal from a few beginnings, purposes to answer the undermentioned requests: What are these interest side and flexibly side which may prevent hapless children from staying in school? What does the Kampuchean Government do to chop down the impact of these variables on drop-out? The supporters are the outlines over the above research work, which sequentially incorporates the current situation of drop-out in fundamental guidance in Cambodia, both gracefully side and request side components which may prevent hapless children from staying in school, and the Kampuchean Government ‘s arrangement in cut bringing down the impact of these elements on drop-out.Present Situation of Drop-out in Cambodia Basic EducationWith vital commitment in their family unit ‘s monetary exercises, Kampuchean students in essential guidance typically face late school passage and early school dropout ( ILO, UNICEF, 2006 ) . A similar research by ILO and UNICEF ( 2006 ) other than clarifies that around 16 for each centum of Kampuchean children are as of now dynamic in their family unit ‘s monetary work at six years old while over portion of them are included at 10 years old. Accordingly, kids commitment in financial exercises surpasses that in school by the age of 15. I n this sense, the majority of them only break down altogether, so they think about dropout. An examination by World Bank ( 2005 ) shows that dropout rate turns into the most elevated during the students ‘ entry from elementary schools to bring down optional schools. While the students are making their essential guidance, some of them decide to drop out of school without completing it. The examination, moreover, recognizes numerous grounds of dropout, wherein destitution is by all accounts the most compelling ( as refered to World Food Program, 2007 ) . The plain cluster beneath is the delineation by MoEYS/UNESCO ( 2000 ) , and NPRS ( 2005 ) on various grounds why understudies in Cambodia fundamental guidance dot out of school:ReasonsMales ( % )Female ( % )Parents ‘ need 22.3 19 Required at place 1.6 21.1 Poor guidance 0.4 0.4 Separation to class 2.9 2.9 Tutoring is non utile 0.4 0.3 Family relocation 3.9 3.9 Different grounds 11 8.8 No reaction 37.5 43.6 Starting: MoEYS/UNESCO ( 2000 )/NPRS ( 2005 ) ( as refered to in World Food Program, 2007, p. 5 ) Blending to the plain exhibit above, MoEYS/UNESCO ( 2000 )/NPRS ( 2005 ) shows that destitution is the most persuasive factor preventing students from venturing out to class and henceforth doing them to drop out. It other than shows an extraordinary contrast in the figure of students who arrive at the last class in grade schools and the extent of understudies who proceed with their study to bring down auxiliary schools. The investigation also clarifies that, regardless of the abolishment of elementary school expenses, the auxiliary schools ‘ charges are non free. In this manner, perhaps these are the grounds why understudies choose to drop out of school during the time of their entry from essential to bring down auxiliary school since their folks or family units can non manage the cost of their go oning guidance. A similar assurance by MoEYS/UNESCO ( 2000 ) and NPRS ( 2005 ) represents that, in spite of expanding extent of understudies making a trip to elementary schools, there are as yet a major figure of students dropping out of schools or non writing for their go oning guidance in lower auxiliary schools ( as refered to in World Food Program, 2007 ) .Supply-side FactorsA proclamation by UNICEF ( 2007 ) recognizes three boss gracefully side variables, which keep hapless children from staying in school, viz. inconsistent open outgo on essential guidance, high student instructor proportion, and uncomplete school foundation. The examination shows that, despite the fact that 80 to 84 for each centum of whole Kampuchean guidance spending plan has been apportioned to essential guidance, turn toing the issue of inconsistent open outgo is as yet work, which to boot includes choosing issues of good ways from school, establishments and base of school, and educators ‘ planning and Numberss, exceptionally for course to elementary schools in inaccessible and provincial nations. The record, besides, underscores â€Å" aë†â ¦though putting resources into gu idance has assisted with expanding the net enrollment rate in Cambodia by more than 20 for every centum over the period 1997 to 2004, a critical figure of children despite everything denied guidance opportunitiesaë†â ¦ † ( UNICEF, 2007, p. 8 ) . In add-on, high understudy instructor proportion is other than an occupation. â€Å" Pupil-educator proportion in schools in the most unfortunate 300 cooperatives found the middle value of each piece much as 79 understudies for every teacher contrasted and 46 in schools in the most extravagant 300 collectives † ( World Bank, 2006, p.101 ) . Another insights sing high student instructor proportion in essential guidance appears: The understudy educator proportion in Cambodia does non contrast well and that of different states in the regionaë†â ¦ Cambodia has one of the most noteworthy student instructor proportions in the part, between 1.8 to 2.9 occasions more than different states. The high understudy instructor proportion impacts joining in and larning results, and it unconventionally influences those children populating in underserved nations of the state ( UNICEF, 2007, p. 9 ) . UNICEF ( 2007 ) , moreover, shows that uncomplete school foundation other than influences understudies ‘ overview in schools, especially who primarily live in removed nations and the individuals who can non bear the cost of their everyday travel. The assurance demonstrates that, regardless of somewhat advancement in auxiliary base in fundamental guidance in Cambodia, a figure of uncomplete schools stay still. Those uncomplete schools is the central reason for elementary school understudies ‘ drop-out since they can non travel upward as those uncomplete schools can non flexibly higher classs for them. Essentially, a 2004 World Bank concentrate curiously brings up four of import factors from gracefully side: lacking school readiness, a major figure of uncomplete grade schools, low nature of teachers, and inconsistent health consideration establishments, viz. H2O and restrooms and such securing establishments as library. The investigation placed the underlying foundations of understudies ‘ dropouts on destitution trap, expressing that: Neediness is the principal factor that inclines children to drop out of school. Poor families can't pay the expense of tutoring that could be each piece high of 79 percent of the per capita non-food outgo of the most unfortunate 20 percent of the populace. Kids ‘s insufficiency of school readiness as often as possible an outcome of ailing health and inadequacy of preschool encounters is another factor that especially impacts contrarily on Grade 1 rehash and drop-out ( as refered to in UNICEF, 2005, p. 9 ) . Mainstreaming Inclusive Education Undertaking by Voluntary Service Oversea ( VSO ) ( 2006 ) directed a little pilot study of a little example of children ( n=32 ) on grade school dropout in Kampot state, and it gave comparable record on flexibly side elements. One of the grounds is overabundance costs for school. The exploration shows that understudies should pay more for their overabundance exercises, or they would disregard in their study. The second ground is that their places are inaccessible from schools. The exploration show that a few understudies spend at any rate a hr each from spot to class and this is the central ground for their school dropouts. The closing ground in the discoveries is educators ‘ conduct. The investigation stresses that physical punishment, orchestrating to 25 % of the children, keeps on being in school and is a factor that disheartens some of them non to go to class ( VSO, 2006 ) .Demand-side FactorsIn the working records by UNICEF ( 2007 ) on Uni versal Primary Education: Reaching the Unreached, request side clarifies three factors as the reason for understudies dropouts, viz. need, geographics and ethnicity. To start with, poverty is extremely prone to be the most persuasive aspect. Without even supplement to eat for their everyday continuance, kids are required to work by their family unit. Cambodia Child Labor Survey underlines that around 50 % of all children in Cambodia, matured from 7 to 14, were significantly more effectively engaged with financial guide in 2001 whenever contrasted and other with-comparable salary states ( ILO, UNICEF and World Bank, 2006 ) . â€Å" Together with the interest of critical residential work, this

10 New Books on Anger, Feminism, and Unruly Women

10 New Books on Anger, Feminism, and Unruly Women Anger is in the air, and with good reason. If ever there was a time for unruly women, this is it. Currently, the Brett Kavanaugh hearings for a spot on the Supreme Court are taking place. His confirmation could mean a lot of very bad things, including the end of marriage equality and abortion rights. The #metoo movement has offered women some hope that change is on the way, but it has also made many of us more acutely aware of how much our culture is saturated with misogyny. Women are ready for change, but progress is slow and halting. For every bigwig sexual harasser brought down, there is an incident like the sexist response to Serena Williamss anger that shows us how far we have to go. Fortunately for us, there is a large crop of books out in 2018 about feminism, anger, and unruly women. Want some historical context for todays feminist issues? Need some inspiration to keep fighting for justice and equality? You are in luck, because the books below are exactly what youre looking for. Eloquent Rage: A Black Feminist Discovers Her Superpower by Brittney Cooper This is an essential memoir about the power of black womens anger. Cooper undermines the stereotype of the angry black woman by showing the power, resourcefulness, and energy that rage can bring. Along with her argument about anger, she writes movingly about her life and offers incisive cultural critiques. Its aimed at black women, but its a good everyone can learn from. Good and Mad: The Revolutionary Power of Womens Anger by Rebecca Traister (Simon and Schuster, October 2) Rebecca Traister has been one of the most important contemporary voices for feminism in the Trump era, and here she looks at the transformative power of womens anger in the context of political movements. Anger has driven womens advances forward but has sometimes also provoked resentful backlash. Traister takes a deep look at the power and also the complicated results of womens rage. Rage Becomes Her: The Power of Womens Anger by Soraya Chemaly Soraya Chemaly argues that rage, far from being a sign of weakness, is a source of power. She shows how anger can provide women a way forward as we look at the injustices around us and decide to do something about them. Looking at the many reasons women have to be angry, Chemaly points the way to turning what is often seen as a negative emotion into an instrument of change. Can We All Be Feminists?: New Writing From Brit Bennett, Nicole Dennis-Benn, and 15 Others on Intersectionality, Identity, and the Way Forward for FEminism, edited by June Eric-Udorie (Penguin Books, September 25) The subtitle says it all! This is an essay collection on how to make contemporary feminism as diverse and inclusive as possible. The piecesâ€"all of which are previously unpublishedâ€"explore why some people feel uncomfortable claiming the feminist label and how we can broaden feminism to include all. Feminasty: The Complicated Womans Guide to Surviving the Patriarchy Without Drinking Herself to Death by Erin Gibson This book is for those who want some humor thrown into the mix. Erin Gibson is the creator of the Throwing Shade podcast, and here she gives us essays that look at the ways women are hobbled by the patriarchy. Its a book that will make you laugh and make you angry at the same timeâ€"and maybe it will make you want to change the world. A Politically Incorrect Feminist: Creating a Movement with Bitches, Lunatics, Dykes, Prodigies, Warriors, and Wonder Women by Phyllis Chesler Phyllis Chesler is a veteran of the feminist movement from the 1960s and 70s, and this book is a memoir and a look back at the women who made that movement happen. Its a helpful introduction to many major figures of second-wave feminism and an argument that powerful women can change the world. Unapologetic: A Black, Queer, and Feminist Mandate for Radical Movements by Charlene Carruthers Charlene Carruthers argues for inclusivity in political movements, showing how people who have been on the margins can take their place in the center. She looks at black political movements from the past, including the Haitian Revolution, the U.S. Civil Rights movement, and more, to offer a more powerful, more radical way of working toward change. Physical Disobedience: An Unruly Guide to Health and Stamina for the Modern Feminist by Sarah Hays Coomer This book makes the argument that becoming an activist requires paying attention to ones body. Too often fitness is associated with beauty and is about reining ones body in and controlling it. Instead, Coomer argues that we should associate fitness with power and see physical strength as what allows us to go out and do the work of activism. Make Trouble: Standing Up, Speaking Out, and Finding the Courage to Lead by Cecile Richards Until earlier this year, Cecile Richards was the president of Planned Parenthood, and this book is a memoir of her life spent as a leader in the fight for womens equality. She began as a 7th-grader protesting the Vietnam War and continued as a labor organizer and activist. Here she tells her story and inspires other women to continue the fight. The Art of Feminism: Images that Shaped the Fight for Equality, 1857-2017 Edited by Helena Reckitt (Chronicle Books, October 23) This book is a historical look at the images that shaped the feminist movement over the past 160 years. It has more than 350 works of art, illustration, photography, performance, and graphic design along with essays that contextualize the pieces.

Finding Myself Value Creativity Essay - 1216 Words

Finding myself morally†¦Ã¢â‚¬ ¦. I value creativity. Without creativity where would we be? The world would be a dark and sad place to live. I like how you can express yourself through art, music and any form of writing. I also value humor. I love a good laugh, especially when times get tough, and you just need to find joy in the rain. I think that without humor the world would be a boring, and difficult place to live in.  Finding myself artistically†¦Ã¢â‚¬ ¦.. I love doing arts and craft things, such as jewelry making, painting, and decorating walls.I may not be as good at it as I want to be, but It is a good way to relax, and pass time.Plus, I like to see the ending results. It makes me really happy that I made something on my own whether it is perfect or not. I also like to express myself through writing. I use to keep a journal in my dresser that I use to write poetry in. Sometimes my writing would be random, like about the sky and other times emotional.  Finding myself as a writer†¦... I have never been a big fan of writing. I never felt good at it when it was for a class assignment, but all that changed when I was in the eleventh grade. My junior year of high school, I was placed in a creative writing class. I was not really comfortable taking the class but I did it anyways. We started off analyzing poetry, and then we had to write our own. I struggled a lot, but eventually got a few good poems. My favorite was Boy I Don’t Know. Our teacher made us find someone inShow MoreRelatedThe Leadership Qualities Of Leadership1210 Words   |  5 Pagestheir way of thinking or their ability. No matter the circumstance, three leadership qualities that seem to prevail are integrity, job knowledge, and people-building skills. Personally, I have a set of values by which I live. 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I tried searching the definition of leadership by looking and observing others at first but then I came to realize that there is no single definition for leadership. I had to find it within me. Then I sat down to figure out what leadership is meant for me and not for anyone else. Everyone has their own perspective, views and values. But according to me, my definitionRead MoreMy Professors Method Of Writing1224 Words   |  5 Pagesis what you’ve always been taught’, said Professor Allister, ‘but in this class, forget what you’ve learned’, just as he marked a great X across the words I had been hurriedly copying down. The professor had begun pulling down the boundaries to creativity my previous education had built. The classroom was alive with emotion, some baffled, others annoyed that they had taken pointless notes, a few angry at the suggestion that they hadn’t been writing in the best method up to this point. However, asRead MorePersonality, Personality And Personality Assessment Essay1610 Words   |  7 PagesThroughout organizational development, personality traits are a prominent discussion. Learning what personality is dominant will help me to learn how improve or change myself personally, spiritually and professionally. When an individual learns about their personality they are able to increase their positive interaction with the world, and recognize their weakness which in turns helps to recognize their sinful nature. We all have sinful tendencies, but it is a choice to act on them or not (FischerRead MoreRelationship Between Intelligence And Creativity1572 Words   |  7 Pagesa nd creativity? In this essay I will explore the correlation between intelligence (IQ) and creativity (DT), and whether one is influenced or can be predicted by the existence of the other. The relationship between IQ (intelligence quotient) and creativity has been an anchor point for psychological research. 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Mcgregor Theory X - 1067 Words

Introduction: In 1960, Douglas McGregor an American psychologist formulated a theory that has changed the path of management thinking and practice. He proposed two sets of assumptions about employee s attitude and behaviour, so the manager will be in a better position to manage the workers and achieve organizational goals. McGregor named these assumptions as Theory X and Theory This essay would examine the pros and cons of this theory of employee motivation, followed by writer s opinion. (McGregor, 1960) Theory X: According to Theory X, Managers assume that the average employee is lazy, dislikes work, are incapable of self-direction and will not indulge in hard work. Additionally, McGregor considers these workers have less†¦show more content†¦This theory does not satisfy lower order needs like Theory X. Managers following this pattern of leadership should decentralize authority to employees and make sure that employees are equipped with resources and provide opportunities to succeed. Managers are not required to supervise constantly, as the employees are aware of their tasks but to ensure that the workers are provided with maximum support and advice when required. This assumption gives freedom to the managers as they don t have to invest huge amount of time on supervision. A Theory Y manager believes that, given the right conditions, most people will want to do well at work. They believe that the satisfaction of doing a good job is a strong motivation. Many people interpret Theory Y as a positive set of beliefs about workers. A close reading of The Human Side of Enterprise reveals that McGregor simply argues for managers to be open to a more positive view of workers and the possibilities that this creates. He thinks that Theory Y managers are more likely than Theory X managers to develop the climate of trust with employees that are required for human resource development. 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Douglas McGregor600 Words   |  3 Pagesstyle theories. Douglas McGregor (1906–1964) had become frustrated with the early simplistic human relations notions while president of Antioch College in Ohio (Draft, 2013, p.47). McGregor formulated Theory X and Theory Y(Draft, 2013, p.47). Theory X tends to be â€Å"old-style† management, and Theory Y â€Å"new-style,† because the styles are based on different assumptions about people (Draft, 2013, p.37). Strong Theory X assumptions are typically considered inappropriate for todays workplace. McG regor proposedRead MoreThe Theory and Practice of Spin-Out Management Essay1429 Words   |  6 PagesSpin-out management: Theory and practice New startups often use internet to interact with their clients through which they detect low circulation cost and increase innovative goods. Most of the firms are flop because they cannot adopt new changes. For innovations, Internal RD department is very essential for any evidence (Chesbrough, H. 2003a). 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Coyote Blue Chapter 25~26 Free Essays

CHAPTER 25 Wheels, Deals, and the Persistance of Visions Las Vegas Calliope sat in her car shivering and watching. She was parked up the street from a Vegas Harley-Davidson shop where she had once gone with Lonnie on a delivery for the Guild. The street was deserted, and dark except for the odd glow of neon in the window of a closed pawnshop. We will write a custom essay sample on Coyote Blue Chapter 25~26 or any similar topic only for you Order Now Litter danced in dust devils of desert wind that had grown cold through the night. Calliope curled up in the driver’s seat and tried to cover herself with one of Grubb’s blankets. The smell that came off the blanket, a mix of sour milk and sweet baby, made her sad, and even though she had stopped breastfeeding months ago, her breasts ached for her son. She caught some motion out of the corner of her eye: two figures coming out of an alley onto the sidewalk: men. They were walking toward the car. Calliope slid down in the driver’s seat. The mother instinct, the feeling of righteous invincibility that had filled her when she had come here, was leaking away. Right now she was not protecting her child; she was afraid for herself. As the men approached she saw that they were young toughs, swaggering with their own willingness to violence, even as they staggered from the effect of some drink or drug. She slid farther down in the seat, and when their shadows fell across the car’s hood she twisted down and covered herself with Grubb’s blanket. She heard their footsteps scrape and stop at the car, heard their voices above her. â€Å"Check out this motherfucker.† â€Å"Some tall dollars here – there’s a grand in tires on this thing.† â€Å"Pop the hood.† Calliope heard someone trying to open the door. â€Å"Locked.† â€Å"Hang on a minute, I saw a brick back a ways.† Footsteps away. The car rocked with the continued yanking at the door handle. Calliope could hear the keys swinging in the ignition. The second man was coming back. Her breath caught. She waited for the crash. Sweat trickled down her forehead and dripped onto the gearshift knob. â€Å"No man, not the windshield. You can’t drive it with a broken windshield.† â€Å"Oh, right.† Calliope braced herself for the impact of the brick, then something in her mind screamed NO! Her feet were still on the pedals. She pushed the clutch and gas to the floor, reached out from under the blanket, and turned the key. The Z roared to life, thundered, then screamed as she kept the gas to the floor. She sat up and glanced at the two startled men, who were cowering a few feet away. Instantly their surprise turned to anger and the taller of the two raised the brick. Calliope popped the clutch and fought to keep the car straight as the tires burned off on the asphalt. She heard a loud crack behind her and felt splinters of glass hit her from behind. She power-shifted through three gears, turning over the tires and kicking the car sideways with each slam of the shifter. By the time she backed off the gas the speedometer was threatening 110. There was a thumping coming from the engine and a high-pitched wailing coming from somewhere. She looked into the rearview mirror to see the hole in the back window and, behind it, flashing red and blue police lights. She hesitated only long enough to throw Grubb’s blanket off her shoulders, then slammed the Z into third, floored it, and said a quick prayer to Kali the Destroyer. -=*=- If Lonnie Ray Inman had ever made the connection that whenever he read the words American Standard, spelled out in cornflower blue against white porcelain, he felt a sudden urge to urinate, he might have understood why Grubb, upon seeing white plastic bundles piled haphazardly on the motel-room floor, crawled doggedly to, and whizzed gleefully on, twenty thousand dollars’ worth of methamphetamine. To Grubb, the bundles looked like Pampers, a fine and private place to pee. â€Å"Jesus Christ, Cheryl,† Lonnie yelled. â€Å"He crawled out of his diaper. Can’t you keep an eye on him for a fucking minute?† â€Å"Fuck you. You watch him, stud. He’s your kid.† Cheryl threw a pillow at Lonnie as she stormed naked into the bathroom. â€Å"You were the one that said you’d make a good mother. Throw me a towel.† Cheryl stood in front of the mirror working her jaw back and forth. â€Å"Get your own towel. I think you fucked up my jaw.† â€Å"I did? I didn’t do shit.† â€Å"That’s the problem, isn’t it?† Cheryl had been lolling Lonnie’s limpness around in her mouth for an hour, trying to get a reaction out of him, when she heard a sharp crack in her right ear and felt a painful grating in the back of her jaw. Lonnie grabbed a towel off the rack and went to where Grubb was happily splashing away on the drugs. Lonnie picked up the baby and put him on the bed, then went back to clean off the packages. â€Å"Oh, Christ. Cheryl, clean up the kid, will you?† â€Å"Fuck off.† Lonnie stormed into the bathroom and grabbed her by the hair, yanking her head back until she was staring up at him. He spoke to her through gritted teeth. â€Å"You clean up the kid now or I’ll snap your fucking neck. You understand?† He yanked her head back further. â€Å"I’ve got to turn this shit early in the morning and then ride to South Dakota, and I need to get some fucking sleep. If I have to kill you to get it I will. You understand?† He relaxed his grip on her hair and she nodded. Tears welled up in her eyes. He dragged her out of the bathroom and threw her on the bed with Grubb, then threw the towel in her face. â€Å"Now clean up the kid.† Lonnie took another towel and wiped each of the packages before packing them into Grubb’s diaper bag. Cheryl rolled Grubb over and dried his bottom. â€Å"Last time I take a vacation with you,† she said. â€Å"No gambling, no shows, no fucking. I said†¦Ã¢â‚¬  She looked at him. â€Å"No fu-† The word caught in her throat. He was aiming his pistol at her head. -=*=- Until he saw the orange 280Z rocket by him, the cop thought that the worst thing he was going to have to deal with on this shift was not smoking. He was wearing a patch on his left shoulder that was supposed to feed nicotine into his blood to keep him from craving cigarettes, but the urge to smoke was still there, so he fought it by eating donuts. He’d gained ten pounds in a week, and he was musing over the idea of inventing a donut patch when the sports car roared by him. Out of habit, he butted a half-eaten cruller in the ashtray, hit the lights and siren, and pulled out in pursuit. The Z already had about eight blocks on him and he estimated it was doing about a hundred. He was reaching for the radio to call ahead for help when a black Mercedes pulled out from a side street in front of him. He slammed on the brakes and threw the cruiser sideways, bringing it to a stop not ten feet from impact. The Mercedes was at a dead stop, blocking both lanes. The cop watched the Z’s taillights fade in the distance on the other side. He killed the siren and switched the radio to the public address system. â€Å"Get out of the car, now!† He waited but no one got out of the car. In fact, he couldn’t see a driver at all, yet the Mercedes was still running. He considered calling for backup, then decided to handle it himself. He stepped out of the cruiser with his gun drawn, careful to stay behind the car door. â€Å"You, in the Mercedes, get out slowly.† He saw something move in the car, but it didn’t look like a person. Holding his revolver at ready, he shined his flashlight at the car. Movement, but no driver. He saw three possibilities. The driver was unconscious, or was waiting to peel away when he moved away from the cruiser, or was lying in wait with a shotgun to blow his head off. He decided it would be safest to assume the last, and without further warning he crept to a spot just under the open driver’s-side window. He heard a scratching sound just above his head and came up, gun first, to catch a glimpse of the back end of the skunk just as it sprayed him in the face. As he wiped his eyes he heard laughing and the Mercedes pulling away. -=*=- Clyde, owner of Clyde’s Cash for Your Car, said, â€Å"No offense, chief, but you don’t see many Indians in Mercedes.† He kicked a tire and bent down to look at the lines of the paint job for signs of bodywork, keeping a hand on his head to steady his toupee. â€Å"Looks clean.† â€Å"It’s a good car,† Coyote said. Clyde narrowed his eyes and smiled. Clyde had seen a little too much sun in his sixty years and this sly smile, what he used to call his ;gotcha; look, made him look like an old Chinese woman. â€Å"And you have the title, right, chief?† â€Å"Title?† â€Å"That’s what I thought.† Clyde stepped up to Coyote, his head about level with the trickster’s sternum. â€Å"Are you a policeman, or are you working in the service of any law-enforcement agency?† â€Å"Nope.† â€Å"Well then, let’s do some business.† Clyde grinned. â€Å"Now, you and I know that we could fry eggs on this car, am I right? Of course I am. And you’re not from around here, or you’d have your own connections and wouldn’t be here, am I right? Of course I am. And you don’t want to take this car out on the interstate where the state patrol would spot it as hot in a second? No, you don’t.† He paused for effect, just to make sure everyone knew he was in control. â€Å"I’ll give you five thousand dollars for it.† â€Å"Not enough,† said Coyote. â€Å"Look, this car has a machine that tells you where you are.† Clyde glanced inside the Mercedes at the navigation system, then shrugged. â€Å"Chief, you see all these cars?† Clyde gestured to a dozen cars on his lot. Coyote looked around and nodded. â€Å"Well, all these cars got something that’ll tell you where you’re at. I call them windows. You look out of ’em. Now, do you want to sell a car?† â€Å"Six thousand,† Coyote said. Clyde crossed his arms and waited, tapped his foot, smiled into the night sky. â€Å"Five,† Coyote said. â€Å"I’ll be right back with your money, chief. Can I have my boy give you a lift somewhere?† â€Å"Sure,† Coyote said. Clyde went into his office, a mobile home whose entire side functioned as Clyde’s sign. In a moment he returned with a stack of hundreds. He counted them into Coyote’s hand. A greasy teenager pulled up in an old Chevy. â€Å"This is Clyde junior,† Clyde said. â€Å"He’ll take you wherever you need to go.† â€Å"It’s a good car,† Coyote said. He handed the keys to Clyde and climbed into the Chevy. As they pulled away Coyote dug into his medicine pouch and pulled out a small plastic box that had once been on Sam’s key ring. He pushed the red button once, and a chirping sound came from under the hood of the Mercedes to signal that the alarm was armed. -=*=- Kiro Yashamoto stood in the corner of the treatment room watching two doctors battle for a man’s life. One doctor was young, white, and wore a stethoscope around his neck. He was fighting death with electronic monitors, oxygen, a battery of injected drugs, and a degree from Michigan State. The other doctor was an old Indian man, as wrinkled and weathered as the patient, who fought with prayers, songs, and by blowing on the patient through a mouthful of charcoal. He held no degree, but had been called to healing by the trumpeting of a white elk in the Spirit World. Despite the difference in their methods, the two worked as a team. Kiro could see that they respected each other, and he wished that his children were here to see these two cultures working together not for profit, but out of a common compassion. Alas, he had left them outside in the clinic’s small waiting room, and neither of the doctors would allow more people in here. A tall, lanky Indian man dressed in denim stood in the corner opposite Kiro. His hair was cut short and shot with gray. Kiro guessed he was in his sixties, but it was hard to tell with these people. He saw Kiro watching and quietly crossed the room. â€Å"My name is Harlan Hunts Alone,† he said, extending his hand. â€Å"How do you do,† Kiro said. He took Harlan’s hand and bowed slightly, then caught himself in the inappropriate gesture and felt embarrassed. Harlan patted Kiro’s shoulder. â€Å"Pokey is my brother. I wanted to thank you for bringing him here. The doctor said he would have died without your help.† â€Å"It was nothing,† Kiro said. â€Å"Just the same,† Harlan smiled. The medicine man stopped singing and Harlan quickly turned to him. â€Å"He’s gone,† the medicine man said. The white doctor looked at the monitor. A steady blip played across the screen. â€Å"He’s fine. His blood pressure’s coming up.† â€Å"Not dead,† said the medicine man. â€Å"Gone.† Pokey began mumbling, then speaking. Kiro could not hear what he was saying through the oxygen mask. â€Å"That’s not Crow. What is that?† asked the white doctor. â€Å"Navaho,† said the medicine man. â€Å"He doesn’t speak Navaho,† Harlan said. â€Å"He doesn’t even speak Crow.† â€Å"He doesn’t here,† the medicine man said. â€Å"He’s not here.† On a stone wall: carvings of dead gods and the shadow of a man with the head of a dog. Pokey looks, but there is no figure casting the shadow. He turns to run. â€Å"Stop,† the shadow says. Pokey stops but does not look back. â€Å"Who are you?† â€Å"Tell him there is death where he goes.† â€Å"Tell who?† â€Å"The trickster. Tell him. And tell him I am coming back.† â€Å"Who are you?† The shade and the wall are gone. Ahead lie prairies. Pokey runs, calls, â€Å"Old Man Coyote!† â€Å"What? I’m busy. Twice in a few days is too much. Don’t talk to me for another forty years.† â€Å"A shadow said to tell you that there is death where you are going.† â€Å"A shadow?† â€Å"A man with the head of a dog. I thought it was you playing a trick on me.† â€Å"Nope. So he said that there is death where I am going. He ought to know. Anything else?† â€Å"He said to tell you that he is coming back.† â€Å"Well, no shit. You have to go, old man. You’re dying again.† â€Å"I am?† â€Å"Yeah. Didn’t you drink that Kool-Aid I left you?† â€Å"There was no water. Who was-â€Å" â€Å"Go now.† -=*=- The green line went flat. The monitor screeched out an alarm. â€Å"We’re losing him,† the doctor said. He grabbed a syringe, filled it with epinephrine, and drove it into Pokey’s chest. The medicine man began to sing a death song. CHAPTER 26 Hang with a Horse Thief, Wake Up Walking Las Vegas Minty Fresh was staring at nothing and thinking ;Zip-A-Dee-Doo-Dah; when the girl behind the desk grabbed his arm, startling him. â€Å"Are you all right?† she said. â€Å"Fine, what is it?† â€Å"God, on the phone, for you.† â€Å"Thank you.† Minty picked up the phone and tried to drive ;Zip-A-Dee-Doo-Dah; out of his head. â€Å"M.F. here,† he said. â€Å"Your Indian is back in the building, main entrance. Keep an eye on him.† â€Å"Right.† Minty hung up. He checked his watch and realized that he must have been staring for ten minutes before the call. Why couldn’t he shake that song? He hadn’t heard it since his grandmother had taken him to see Song of the South when he was a child. Grandma had heard the Uncle Remus stories of Br’er Fox and Br’er Rabbit from her own grandmother, who had been a slave. She said that the stories came with the slaves from West Africa. There, Br’er Rabbit was known as Esau, the trickster. Maybe it was the Indian talking about tricking people that had set it off. Since the Indian had come into the casino, Minty had felt uneasy. It was as if the Indian could look into his soul and see secrets that he himself did not know. He looked up to see the Indian coming through the lobby. Minty smiled. â€Å"Mr. Coyote, you’re back.† â€Å"How do you know my name?† Minty was spun by the question. He felt his shell of cool detachment cracking and dropping off like old paint. â€Å"I†¦ I don’t know†¦.† â€Å"It’s okay,† Coyote said. â€Å"I want everyone to know my name. Not like you. You carry your name like a man with a knife hidden in his boot. You should wear your name like a red bow tie.† â€Å"I’ll try to remember that,† Minty said, trying to sound patronizing. If the casino knew his real name they’d have him greeting people in clown shoes and a purple wig within the hour. A red bow tie indeed. Coyote fanned a handful of hundreds and waved them under Minty’s nose. â€Å"Did you save my place at the table?† â€Å"I’m sure we can find you a suitable place. Follow me.† Minty led Coyote to an out-of-the-way crap table where only a few players were gathered. One of them, a lanky middle-aged man in a cowboy hat and jeans, turned and looked Coyote up and down, then scoffed and turned to the stickman, shaking his head in disgust. â€Å"Prairie niggers,† he said under his breath. Minty moved up behind the cowboy and bent over until his mouth was even with the cowboy’s ear. â€Å"I beg your pardon?† The cowboy spun around and stumbled back against the table, his eyes wide. â€Å"Nothin’,† he said. Minty remained crouched over, his face almost touching the cowboy’s. â€Å"Is there a problem, sir?† â€Å"No. No problem,† the cowboy said. He turned and scraped his chips off the table and quickly walked away. Minty stood slowly and caught the stickman glaring at him. A wave of embarrassment burned over him. That sort of direct intimidation was completely out of line: bad form, bad judgment. He imagined that there would be a call from God waiting for him when he returned to the desk. He turned to Coyote, who was staring down the front of a cocktail waitress’s dress. Minty said, â€Å"Can we get you something to drink?† â€Å"Umbrellas and swords, lots of them.† â€Å"Very good.† Minty nodded to the cocktail waitress. â€Å"Mai tai, extra fruit.† Coyote handed his cash to the dealer. â€Å"Black ones.† The dealer counted the money and handed it to the supervisor. â€Å"Changing five thousand.† The other players looked up at Coyote, then Minty, then quickly looked down to avoid eye contact. A pair of fresh-faced newlyweds stood at the head of the table, exchanging kisses and whispers. The stickman pushed the dice to the woman, who giggled as she picked them up. â€Å"That’s my lucky girl,† her husband said, kissing her ear. â€Å"New shooter coming out,† the stickman said. â€Å"Is she lucky?† Coyote asked. â€Å"She’s made me the luckiest man in the world,† the young husband said. The girl blushed and buried her face in her husband’s shoulder. Minty found that he was irritated by the couple’s fawning and wondered why. He saw it ten times a day: newlyweds at the tables acting like they were the first to discover love, glued together for a few days of starry-eyed public foreplay between bouts in a hotel bed. And they’d be back in twenty years, separating when they hit the door, her locking onto a slot machine while he played blackjack and dreamed of sneaking off to a jiggle show. Minty wanted to warn them that time would make hypocrites of them. One day you’ll wake up and find that you’re married to a husband and a father, a wife and a mother, and you’ll wonder whatever happened to the lover that you swapped spit and sweetness with over a crap table. But why did it matter? It never had before. It’s this Indian, Minty thought. He’s making me lose it. Coyote placed all his chips on the pass line. â€Å"Are you lucky?† he said to the bride. She smiled and nodded. Her husband placed a two-dollar chip on the pass line. â€Å"Go ahead, honey.† He held her shoulders, bracing her against the weight of the dice, and the girl let fly. â€Å"Two! Snake eyes! No pass!† The stickman raked in the bets. Coyote dove over the table and caught the woman by the throat, riding her to the floor. The husband stepped aside as the light of his life went down. â€Å"You are not lucky!† Coyote screeched. â€Å"You lost all my money! You are not lucky!† The girl clawed at his face with lace-gloved hands. Minty Fresh caught Coyote by the back of the neck and pulled him off the girl with one hand, waving away the security jesters who had appeared with the other. â€Å"I’ve got this handled.† He nodded to the girl on the floor and the jesters helped her to her feet. Minty dragged Coyote away from the table. â€Å"She lied. She lied.† â€Å"Perhaps you’d like to rest for a while,† Minty said, as if he was taking Coyote’s hat rather than dragging him across the floor. â€Å"Can we get you something to eat? The dining room is closed, but our snack bar is open.† Minty was acutely aware that he was in the process of losing his job. He should have turned the Indian over to security. After years as the officer of order, he was falling apart. â€Å"I need to get more money,† Coyote said, calming down now. Minty set Coyote on his feet, keeping a restraining hand on the trickster’s neck. â€Å"You’re sharing a room with Mr. Hunter, aren’t you? I’ll have the bellman take you up to the room.† Coyote thought for a moment. â€Å"No, my money is at another hotel and I don’t have a car.† â€Å"That’s not a problem, sir. I’ll call around a limo and drive you myself.† Minty steered Coyote out a side exit of the casino and walked him to the valet booth, where he ordered a limo from the attendant. In a moment a stretch Lincoln pulled up to the curb and an eager squire held the door while Coyote climbed in. Minty adjusted the seat before climbing in; still, his knees were up around the wheel. As he drove he tried to form some sort of rationalization for his mistakes – something to wash him clean with the management. Perhaps the Indian would lose enough money to justify the lapses of judgment. â€Å"Where are you staying, sir?† â€Å"The Frontier.† Minty nodded and pulled out onto the strip. â€Å"Call Camelot,† he said. A series of beeps sounded in the car and a woman’s voice came on the speaker. â€Å"Camelot.† â€Å"Desk, please.† â€Å"Thank you.† A series of clicks and a different voice. â€Å"Camelot, reservations.† â€Å"This is M.F.,† Minty said. â€Å"I’m taking a customer to the Frontier. I’ll return in a few minutes.† â€Å"Very good, sir. There’s a message for you from upstairs. Do you want me to put you through?† â€Å"No. Thank you.† There was no sense in rushing to the mailbox if you knew there was a letter bomb waiting for you. â€Å"Off,† Minty said. There was a click. Coyote was hanging on the back of the seat, looking down at the cellular phone. â€Å"You can talk to machines?† â€Å"Just this one. Voice activated so you can keep your hands on the wheel.† â€Å"I can talk to animals. Can you take other forms?† Minty smiled. The Indian was a nut case, but at least he was an amusing nut case. â€Å"Actually,† he said. â€Å"This is another form. In real life I’m a short Jewish woman.† â€Å"I wouldn’t have known,† Coyote said. â€Å"It must be the sunglasses.† He looked at the dashboard. â€Å"Does this car tell you where you are?† â€Å"No.† â€Å"Ha! Mine is better.† â€Å"Pardon me?† â€Å"Follow that car,† Coyote said, pointing ahead to a 280Z with a shattered back window turning off the strip. For a second, Minty was tempted to follow the car, then he caught himself. â€Å"I can’t do that, sir.† What was it about this Indian that he could twist the world? If he wasn’t fired when he got back to the casino, Minty decided he would hire a hooker to rub his temples and tell him that everything was okay until he believed it or ran out of money, whichever came first. Maybe the Indian was right about people wanting to be tricked. â€Å"I need cigarettes,† Coyote said. â€Å"We have complimentary cigarettes at the casino, sir.† â€Å"No. I need some now. At that store.† Coyote pointed to a minimart across the strip. â€Å"As you wish,† Minty said. He pulled the limo into the minimart and turned off the engine. Coyote said, â€Å"I’m out of money until we go to my motel.† â€Å"Allow me, sir,† Minty opened the car door and unfolded himself onto the curb. â€Å"I’ll pay you back.† â€Å"Not necessary, sir. Camelot will take care of it.† â€Å"Salems,† Coyote said. â€Å"A carton.† Minty closed the door and walked into the minimart. He found the cigarettes, then grabbed a package of Twinkies off the shelf for himself. He checked the date on the Twinkies: July 1956. Good. They had another thirty years of guaranteed freshness. He fell in line behind a drunk man who was waving a gas card at the clerk. â€Å"Look, man, it’s this simple. You charge my card for forty bucks’ worth of gas and give me twenty in cash. You get a hundred-percent profit.† Minty listened to the clerk try to explain why this couldn’t be done and smiled in sympathy, as if to say, â€Å"They lose their money, then they lose their minds.† The clerk rolled his eyes as if to say, â€Å"This might take a while.† Minty looked outside to check on his passenger and saw the limo backing away from the curb. He tossed the cigarettes and Twinkies on the counter and ran out, losing his glasses as he ducked to get through the doors. He reached the street as the limo accelerated out of reach, then stopped and stared down the strip, watching the Lincoln’s taillights until they blended into a million other lights. Acid panic rose in his throat, then subsided, replaced by the resolved calm of the doomed. He turned and walked slowly back to the minimart to find his glasses. As he reached the door, the drunk, his gas card still in hand, stumbled through and Minty caught him by the shoulders to avoid a collision. The drunk looked up, then tore himself away and stepped back. â€Å"Jesus Christ, boy! What happened to your eyes? You been sittin’ too close to the TV?† Minty raised his hand to cover his golden eyes, then dropped it and shrugged. â€Å"Zip-A-Dee-Doo-Dah,† he said with a grin. -=*=- Dawn was starting to break and the sky was turning from red to blue. Coyote sat in the limo, which was parked a block behind Calliope’s orange Z, which was parked a block away from Nardonne’s Harley-Davidson Shop. Lonnie’s bike was parked outside. â€Å"Call Sam,† Coyote said. Nothing happened. He pounded on the car phone. â€Å"I said, call Sam.† Nothing happened. â€Å"Call Sam’s room,† Coyote said to the phone. Nothing happened and the trickster yipped with anger. â€Å"Call Sam’s room or I’ll rip your cord off.† He picked up the receiver and beat it on the dashboard, then he saw a sticker with the casino’s logo stuck to the receiver. â€Å"Call Camelot,† he said. The phone lit up and beeped through some numbers. The phone rang once and a woman answered. â€Å"Camelot.† â€Å"I want to talk to Sam.† â€Å"Do you have a last name, sir?† â€Å"No, just Coyote.† â€Å"I’m sorry, sir, we have no guest listed under Coyote.† â€Å"Not me, I’m here. His name is Hunter.† â€Å"We have no Coyote Hunter. There’s a Samuel Hunter.† â€Å"That’s him.† â€Å"One minute while I connect you.† â€Å"I’ll bet you’re ugly in person.† â€Å"What?† Sam’s sleepy voice came over the phone. â€Å"Sam, I found the girl.† â€Å"Where? Where are you? What time is it? Who’s ugly?† â€Å"Morning. You have to come here. I’m at a place called Nardonne’s Harley-Davidson Shop. The girl is here, and the motorcycle with her picture on it is parked outside.† â€Å"Give me directions. I’ll be there in a few minutes. Keep Calliope there. I have to check out and get the car.† â€Å"Take a cab.† â€Å"You didn’t take my car?† â€Å"No, this car is better. You can talk to the phone. Your car is gone. I sold it.† â€Å"You what?† â€Å"Take a cab. I’m in a big black car. Off.† The phone clicked, cutting Sam off in the middle of a tirade. Coyote didn’t know whether the girl had a phone in her car, but he decided to try. â€Å"Call the girl,† he said to the phone. The phone beeped through the numbers. â€Å"This is Carla,† a sexy woman’s voice said. â€Å"Would you like this on your phone bill or your credit card?† â€Å"Phone bill,† Coyote said. â€Å"If you like leather, press one,† Carla said. â€Å"Twins, press two. For California blondes, press three. Big bottoms, press-† Coyote picked up the handset and pressed three. Another sexy voice came on, â€Å"Hi, I’m Brandy, who are you?† â€Å"Coyote.† â€Å"Would you like to know what I’m wearing, Coyote?† â€Å"No, I have to tell the girl to stay here until Sam comes.† â€Å"We’ll take as long as Sam needs. Is Sam getting hard?† â€Å"No, he’s pissed off about his car.† There was a pause and the sound of her lighting a cigarette. Brandy said, â€Å"Okay. Let’s start over.† -=*=- Minty waited for the second limo at the pay phone outside the minimart. He flipped through his address book until he found the detective’s number, then dialed. The phone rang twice, then there was the sound of the receiver rattling and falling. Finally a sleepy, hostile man’s voice said, â€Å"What?† Minty said, â€Å"Jake, this is M.F., at Camelot.† â€Å"Fuck that. This is harassment. It’s†¦ it’s five thirty in the morning. You said I could have all the time I needed to pay.† â€Å"I’m not calling about that, Jake. I need a favor. One of the limos has been stolen.† â€Å"Why call me at home? You guys have Lo-Jack beacons in those limos, don’t you? Call the station. They’ll track it and have it back in half an hour.† â€Å"I can’t call the station, Jake. This is delicate. I need to get it back without bringing the police into it.† â€Å"You’re fucked. The Lo-Jack trackers are installed in the cruisers.† â€Å"Can you put one in one of our limos? Just until I find the stolen one.† â€Å"No way. The tracking system takes hours to install.† â€Å"Jake, I need a favor. Just a favor. I haven’t mentioned what you owe us.† â€Å"This strong-arm shit isn’t your style, M.F.† â€Å"But you can get use of a unit with the Lo-Jack tracker in it?† â€Å"Meet me at the station in a half hour.† â€Å"What’s the range on the tracker?† â€Å"About a mile, depending on the terrain. Farther in the desert. You’re not going to be able to cover much area with only one car.† â€Å"Then make it fifteen minutes. And Jake-â€Å" â€Å"What?† â€Å"Thank you.† Minty hung up. So much for the police, he thought. Now if I can get it back before the casino finds out. If not, I guess it’s time to go shopping for a red bow tie. -=*=- Calliope was sure she could do it: if Grubb was trapped under a Chrysler she could lift the car and pull him out. You heard about it all the time: Hundred-Pound Mom Lifts Two-Ton Car to Save Trapped Tot. It seemed to happen often enough that it should be part of Lamaze training. â€Å"Okay, now breathe, focus, grab the bumper†¦ now lift!† Yep, she could do it – a Chrysler on each arm if she had to. She wasn’t so sure about getting Grubb back from Lonnie. Maybe if that other woman wasn’t with him, being so hostile and negative. She was feeling a little better now that the sun was coming up. She’d been shivering since the punks had broken her back window, from nerves and the cold. And she didn’t have enough gas money to leave the Z running with the heater on while she waited for Lonnie to come out of the Harley shop. She might not have enough to make it home as it was. Besides, something was wrong with the car; she’d tached it too high while running from the police and something had given way in clatter and smoke. As she watched, Lonnie came through the front door of the shop carrying Grubb’s diaper bag. Calliope swallowed hard, trying to push down her fear – fear of failure. She got out of the Z. The woman followed Lonnie holding Grubb in her arms. Calliope ran toward them, then stopped when she saw the woman’s face. It was like one painful purple bruise with eyes. â€Å"Lonnie,† Calliope called. Lonnie and the woman turned. Grubb saw his mother and reached out. Lonnie pushed down Grubb’s hand. â€Å"What are you doing here?† â€Å"I came to get Grubb. You shouldn’t have taken him.† â€Å"Talk to the judge. He’s mine half the time.† He was right. Calliope had gone to Social Services once before when Lonnie took Grubb on a road trip. Her caseworker told her that the law couldn’t do anything to help. â€Å"You don’t want him. You just want to hurt me.† Lonnie laughed, threw his head back, and shook with laughter. For all the times he had postured and threatened and screamed and pounded, he had never really scared her. She was scared now. â€Å"You shouldn’t take him on a run like this, Lonnie. What if you get busted?† â€Å"Run? What run? We’re just on a little family camping trip, aren’t we, Cheryl?† The woman tucked her face behind Grubb. â€Å"Give him to me, please,† Calliope pleaded. Lonnie climbed onto his bike grinning and hit the starter. The bike fired up and Lonnie shouted over the engine, â€Å"Go home. I’ll bring him back in a few days.† Cheryl climbed on behind him and he dropped the bike into gear. â€Å"No!† Calliope started to run after them. Lonnie gunned the bike and roared off. She shuffled to a stop and saw Grubb reaching out over Cheryl’s shoulder. Her eyes blurred with tears. She turned and ran to her car, wiped her eyes, and saw the limo parked down the street. Someone was sitting in it, just watching her. â€Å"What are you looking at?† she screamed. -=*=- Sam made the chambermaid help him search the hotel room for his wallet for fifteen minutes before giving up and leaving her with a promise of a tip on the credit card. He was thinking This is like being stuck in some Kafkaesque Roadrunner cartoon when the taxi from the Acme Cab Company pulled up, the driver wearing a fez. Animated by Hieronymus Bosch, Sam thought. In the cab, he said, â€Å"Do you know a Harley-Davidson shop called Nardonne’s?† â€Å"Bad part of town. Cost you double.† â€Å"It’s broad daylight.† â€Å"Oh, it is. My shift is over. Sorry.† â€Å"Okay, double,† Sam said. Why quibble? He couldn’t pay the guy anyway. When they pulled in behind the limo, Sam said, â€Å"Wait here, I’ll get your money.† He got out and looked down the street to the Harley shop, then went up to the limo and pounded on the blacked-out window. The window whirred down. Coyote grinned. â€Å"Where is she?† â€Å"Took off. Just now.† â€Å"Why didn’t you stop her?† â€Å"She didn’t want to be stopped. We’ll find her – she’s following the biker, and we know where he’s going.† The cabdriver beeped his horn. â€Å"Give me my wallet,† Sam said. Coyote handed the wallet out the window. Sam rifled through it and came up empty. â€Å"There’s no money left.† â€Å"Nope,† Coyote said. The cabdriver leaned on the horn. Sam signaled for him to wait, ran around to the other side of the limo, and got in. â€Å"Go,† Sam said. â€Å"What about the cabdriver?† â€Å"Fuck him.† â€Å"That’s the spirit.† Coyote started the limo and peeled away. He checked the rearview mirror. â€Å"He’s not following.† â€Å"Good.† â€Å"He’s talking to his radio. Got a smoke?† Sam dug a pack of cigarettes out of his jacket pocket, tapped one out, and lit it. â€Å"Where’s my car?† â€Å"I sold it.† â€Å"You can’t sell it without the title.† â€Å"I got a good deal, five thousand.† â€Å"Are you nuts? Five thousand wouldn’t buy the stereo.† â€Å"I needed to win my money back. I won a lot of money on the machine you put the cards in, but a shaman with a stick won it back from me.† Sam butted his cigarette in the ashtray and hung his head in his hands, trying to let it all sink in. â€Å"So you sold my car for five grand?† â€Å"Yep.† Coyote snatched the mashed cigarette and relit it. â€Å"And where is that money?† â€Å"The shaman had strong cheating medicine.† â€Å"That’s the kind of thinking that got Manhattan sold for a box of beads.† â€Å"So they still tell that story? It was one of my best tricks. They gave us many beads for that island. They didn’t know that you can’t own land.† Sam sighed and slouched in his seat, thinking he should be angry, or worried about his car, but strangely he was more concerned with catching Calliope. They were on the highway now. Sam glanced at the speedometer. â€Å"Slow down to the speed limit. We don’t need cop trouble. I’m assuming you stole this car.† â€Å"I counted coup: stealing a tethered horse.† â€Å"Tell me,† Sam said. Coyote told the story of Minty and the limo, turning it into a fable full of danger and magic, making himself the hero. He was coming to the part about the car phone when it rang. Sam reached for the answer button and pulled back his hand in disgust. â€Å"What’s this gunk all over the phone? It looks like-â€Å" â€Å"I’m not to that part of the story yet.† â€Å"Then you answer it.† â€Å"Speak,† Coyote said, and the phone lit up and clicked. â€Å"Is that you, Brandy?† A very deep, calm voice came over the speakerphone, â€Å"I want the car back, now. Pull over and stop. I’m a couple of minutes behind you. The police are-â€Å" â€Å"Off,† Coyote said. The phone hung up. Coyote turned to Sam. â€Å"This is a good car. You can talk to the phone. Her name is Brandy. She’s very friendly.† â€Å"Uh-huh,† Sam said. â€Å"That wasn’t her.† â€Å"Pull off at the next exit.† How to cite Coyote Blue Chapter 25~26, Essay examples

Postwar Poland Essays - Eastern Bloc, Polish Peoples Republic

Postwar Poland Postwar Poland Communist-Socialist strength in the government grew steadily during 1946 and 1947. In the 1947 parliamentary elections the two-party coalition won more than 85 percent of the vote. Beginning in September 1948 the Polish Communist Party purged itself of many thousands of so-called national Communists who were accused of approving Yugoslavia's defiance of the USSR. Among those jailed in the purge was Wladyslaw Gomulka, secretary general of the party and first deputy premier. In December the Socialists and Communists merged to form the Polish United Workers' Party, in which pro-Stalin Communists were dominant. Thereafter Poland appeared to be one of the most faithful satellites of the USSR. During the postwar period, Poland became an active member of the Council for Mutual Economic Assistance and the Warsaw Pact. In 1952 Poland adopted a constitution modeled after that of the USSR but recognizing certain property rights. Gomulka became the dominant figure in Poland, steering a careful course between pro-Soviet and nationalist sentiments and introducing limited political reforms. In the 1957 elections, slates included some non-Communists and independents; there were nearly twice as many candidates as there were jobs. By the early 1960s Gomulka had tightened the party's hold on Poland and halted most of the reforms. An economic crisis assumed major proportions late in 1970. Polish industry had fallen short of planning goals. Bad weather again contributed to a poor harvest and resulted in the costly import of grain. In addition, the prices of coal, food, and clothing were drastically increased. Outraged at the increases, Polish workers, mainly from the Baltic seaports of Gdansk, Gdynia, and Szczecin, staged demonstrations that led to riots, arson, and looting. A week-long state of emergency was declared, and the protests were forcibly suppressed with considerable loss of life. In the aftermath of the rioting, party secretary Gomulka and other party leaders were removed from the the executive committee of the Communist Party. Edward Gierek, a prominent Politburo member from Silesia, became party secretary. Prices were frozen at their previous levels. Improving relations with the West were symbolized by visits to Poland by U.S. presidents Richard M. Nixon in 1972, Gerald R. Ford in 1975, and Jimmy Carter in 1977. Living standards deteriorated, and hundreds of thousands of Polish workers responded to a large food price hike by going on strike in the summer of 1980. In August the country was paralyzed when workers in Gdansk and other Baltic ports conducted sit-in strikes in their shipyards for three weeks and started making political demands. Finaly the communist government gave in to the demands of the ritors, they gave them more liberties which included the right to strike, wage increases, the release of political prisoners, and the elimination of censorship. The ill and discredited Communist Party leader Gierek stepped down shortly afterward. In February 1981, General Wojciech Jaruzelski was made premier, and in October he became the head of the Communist Party. To control the situation Jaruzelski used the demands of the Solidarity movement for economic improvements and greater political freedom. In mid-December the Solidarity organization was suspended, its leader, Lech Walsa, was interned. Thousands of other Solidarity activists were either arrested or interned, and approximately 90 activists were killed. All industrial and political opposition was banned and suppressed, and Communist Party reformers were also reviewed. The political and economic stalemate in Poland during the 1980s was broken by the election of Mikhail Gorbachev as Soviet leader in 1985. Reform became possible in Poland. Jaruzelski's reformist Communists and Walsa's Civic Committee negotiated an agreement in early 1989. Solidarity was re-legalized, and a freely elected Senate was established. Jaruzelski was elected to the presidency with Solidarity's approval. In the 1989 elections, Solidarity won 99 of the 100 Senate seats as well as the 35 percent of the Sejm, the lower house seats that it was allowed to contest. Poland established or renewed diplomatic relations with the European Community, the republics of the former USSR, the Vatican, and Israel, and signed cooperation treaties with the newly unified Germany and a number of other European states. The country joined the Council of Europe and negotiated associate membership of the European Union; full membership was promised by the year 2002. Full national sovereignty was regained in 1992 with the evacuation of most of the Soviet troops stationed in Poland. The withdrawal was completed in August 1993. In 1994 Poland became a member of NATO's Partnership for Peace program.