Subject Uncooperative: Taking Notes

[Continued from: The Cross Walk] The little A/C unit in the window would sometimes shiver through its constant hum. I had it cranked up as far as it would go but it was laboring to keep the room in the eighties.

"Okay, so you were at your job…" I wrote in my notebook without looking up.

"Just got off work." Enjeru finished off her beer, slid the bottle into the crowd of empties gathering at her elbow and cracked open another. She had taken a shower and was sitting in a racer back tank and bike shorts. She was drinking through a twelve pack of Negra Modelo without breaking a sweat. I had barely finished one and Enzeru drank only water.

We sat the end of the table that had been cleared of the dinner's wrappers and bags. Enjeru had treated us to several entrées off the menu from the kitchen in the Super Mercado. Almost all of which were too spicy for me and meat heavy for Enzeru who was vegan. We ended up splitting a plate of chips and guacamole while Enjeru ate the rest. Though she complained loudy about having to take up the slack she finished practically everything.

"And you were…" I looked up at Enzeru. Having declined a shower she stripped down until she was in a dark camisole and pants. Her hair had been let down from its professional bun into a loose pony tail.

"I was about to rendezvous with my partners to investigate a triple L occurrence." Enzeru consulted her own notes in a device that looked like a semi-transparent card that constantly shifted between luminous diagrams and abstract lettering.

"A triple…?"

"A ley-line lesion." At my blank look she continued "An abnormality in a ley-line such that there are significant imbalances that may lead to a compromised dimensional integrity." I had stopped writing. She attempted to explain again. "Typically there is an acceptable amount of fluctuation within the laminar flow of a ley line but if certain tolerances are excee-"

"She was at work." Enjeru contributed as she picked her teeth.

"At work?" I started to write again tentatively.

"Yes. I was at work." Enzeru sighed and set down her pad. It became a blank opaque tile.

"There is nothing I can find that would indicate rifts, spikes or attenuations of any sort at my last location. And as soon as I found myself on the bus I made D-scan after D-scan. Each one came up negative. Before I was transported and after show the same results which can't be possible. According to this" she tapped the tile "I've not moved from where I was before I came here AND I was in this time and place –on the bus- since before I actually appeared on the bus.

"I contacted my partners and while we were able to communicate via my locator set." She tapped her temple where she had worn the shades. "They could not find me. If I could not be dimensionally located then there should be no way for me to communicate with my team. It makes no sense. It shouldn't work at all."

"So they are looking for you?"

"Not exactly. At least not yet."

"But you can contact them?"

"I shouldn't be able to but yes, I have been in contact with them since I came here. Once on the bus and then while we were at the market."

Enjeru swirled the bottom of the bottle as she made her suggestion "So just tell them where you are. Give them the address: The westbound bus stop at –what was it- Nellis and Vegas Valley, Las Vegas, Nevada, USA, North America, Earth, the Solar System, the Milky Way. "

"It's not that easy. That address you just gave is like taking someone to the beach and saying I'm somewhere on the beach when I am actually a single grain of sand on that beach. In order for my partners to find me they need my exact location. "

Enzeru looked at me "But you know this, already: how the DPC works right? I mean, this- rather, our worlds are worlds you created so…"

"No. Yes. I mean… I either I don't know or maybe at one time I did and then forgot...? I know I should know more about you and Enj but I just don't. I have this feeling like everything about you is very familiar in a vague way. Like someone I used to know a long time ago but whose name I forgot but it's right on the tip of my tongue bothering me. Like my mind is saying I know this. I know this. I know this –but nothing comes forward until it does and when it does it's all in flash. Everything. I know everything like I just remembered it all in single moment. And it's too much. Almost as fast as it comes it goes away again. I might know a little more than before but mostly I am kind of relying on you to tell me. And when you do tell me I'm like: Right, right. I knew that.

"I'm sorry. If I could access all of these things I could probably sort this out in no time at all. I mean, what if it's the fact that I can't remember anything that caused this? Like all these things, names and places and details got away from me and are… I dunno." I felt a dread starting to rise within me again.

"KaMu, don't worry." Enzeru had put her hand on my arm and it stilled my growing apprehension like turning off a tap. "If that's the case then we'll figure out how to get you clear again." She went to where she had draped her jacket over the sofa and pulled her shades –her locator set- out. Within the arc of motion she took to put them on they unfolded into their full configuration. "If you don't mind I'm going to use your room while I check in with the DPC and see if they have found out anything."

I scanned the notes we had made earlier about relative time frames. I thought I might be able to make the connection to their timelines in regards to their respective story lines but I needed more information.

"Can you contact your work?" I asked Enjeru.

"My mobile doesn't work but I checked my radio and it's still receiving from dispatch."

"So you talked to them?"

"Nope. I just checked: I can tune in to the other courier channels and the field-wide broadcasts, so I know it's receiving. Then I did a quick ping and they heard me. It works."

"Pinged them? What do they say?"

"Tsch. I told you I didn't talk to them."

"But –maybe they can-"

"Hah. Fuck those guys! I aint giving those assholes a minute more of my life. I'm off for the weekend, chica."

I set my pen down. I would try again when Enzeru was back. She was more adept at handling Enjeru than I was. I opted for small talk. "This probably wasn't the weekend you weren't hoping for."

She gave me a look before finishing her beer and then sliding it over with the others. "Got that right. I had a date tonight that I was looking forward to."

"Oh. I'm sorry."

"So am I, so am I." chin resting on her palm, Enjeru looked out the window. "She's got this fantastic hair that's dyed at least four colors. Pinks n' purples and blue. I called her my little Twilight Sparkle and she kicked my ass."

"Oh."

"She literally kicked me in the ass and then hit me and then threw my own helmet at me. Bounced it right off my fuckin head." She tilted in her seat and pointed at her butt. "I can show you the bruises."

"No thank you."

"God, I love a woman that knows how to hit."

"And she still wants to date you, and you her?"

"Shit, we were laughing our asses off."

Enzeru sat down. She tapped the earblade of the locator set and it retracted itself. It went from black wrap around visor to lightly tinted shades. She looked less than pleased.

"What?"

"Now I can't get through."

"Well, fucknuts. Now what."

"They'll keep looking, right?" I asked.

"Yes."

"What is it, hermanita? I know you enough to know that look says shit aint right."

Enzeru stared at Enjeru a moment before she took the beer from her.

"One of the agents is my S.O."

"Superior Officer? Don't see a problem." Enjeru was bringing up another beer since hers had been snatched.

"My significant other. My fiancée." Enzeru took a good pull from the bottle.

"Oh." I suddenly remembered him. I remembered his name and why she would be worried.

"As long as I had contact with them, I could assure them that I was fine, --that I was in a special detachment and just having technical difficulties. It wont take him long to figure it out." She rubbed her forehead and sighed "There's no telling what he'll do to find me." After saying that she laughed half heartedly "Most of the time that would be some grand romantic proclamation, but where I am concerned he can be a bit… volatile." She shook her head and muttered "He can be such a fucking…" finishing the sentence with a slug from the bottle.

I knew 'a bit volatile' was the understatement of the year but I didn't say a thing.

"First of all…" Enjeru reached into a bag on the cluttered side of the table, pulled out a bottle, poured something clear into a small plastic cup from the same bag. She traded Enjeru's beer for the cup, setting it in front her.

"Where my sister is concerned aint no one more volatile than me. I'mma have to meet this sancho who would make my li'l sis use the fuck-word." She poured two more drinks setting one in front of me before authoritatively clunking the bottle of tequila in between the three of us.

"And second, we are going to make some goddamned toasts." She lifted her cup. "To Twilight Sparkle: May she always hit like a girl."

Subject Uncooperative: The Cross Walk

[Continued from: Seating Arrangements] I stood a block from my apartment waiting for the light to change before I could cross the street. The twins were a bit behind me talking. Arguing is a better word. Enjeru was agitated and sniping is an even better way to describe it. I was just grateful that their attention wasn’t on me.

Once the bus had disgorged us onto the sidewalk I started for home. When I saw that they had followed me off the bus I gave up the idea of trying to bid them a Good Day and a See You Later. They were following me. I just made sure I had enough of a head start that it would at least allow me the solitude that I had been expecting on the ride. As long as Enjeru didn’t jog up, fall in step with me and start talking I felt that I was doing well enough.

Beyond stepping out of the air controlled bus and sharing a unified reaction of dismay at the heat that radiated off the sidewalk to meet us I hadn’t said much to them and they let me be. Following half a minute behind, their quiet argument started not soon thereafter. Even with the privacy that our distance gave us I still couldn’t put things together. I could feel myself sinking back into my fog state.

As the adjacent crosswalk signal counted down to the point at which I could start to cross my street, I was realizing that I was leading two unknown quantities to my house. Did I want that? The signal across from me went from a red hand to a walking stickperson. I didn’t move. I was paralyzed by the fact that I didn’t know what to do.

I told myself just Go but my Chuck Taylors remained planted. I could hear the twin’s voices as they were catching up to me and I still couldn’t move. I watched the signal across the way count down to zero and the red hand came back up. Traffic started moving again. The twins had caught up by the time the signal showed the white walking figure. My body tipped forward with inertia but then rocked back again when my legs didn’t move. Still frozen. Enjeru started to cross the street but Enzeru stopped beside me. “Are you alright?”

I wasn’t about to tell her anything but heard myself say “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“You mean you don’t know what you are doing with us.”

“No, just… Yes.”

“I don’t suppose it would help you to know that we don’t know why we are here either.”

“Not much because somehow its my fault that you are here.” I fought the urge to cry. “It’s all my fault.” I was talking about the whole thing. My life, or lack thereof. My characters. My world and theirs. I wasn’t sure what was going on. It was out of control and I knew it had to be my fault.

“Oy! You coming!?” called Enjeru from across the street and her sister waved her off without taking her gaze from me.

Enzeru was wearing the wrap around shades again, but there was no sign of other tech sweeping off of it. They looked just like shades with a gradient tint so that I could actually see her eyes through the smoky glass. “KaMu, listen.” I felt her hand rest on my shoulder “I know this must be hard. I don’t envy your position but I think this is something that we need to sort out sooner rather than later. You may well be the anchor but Enjeru and I are here. We are at least a part of you and we can help. We’ll figure it out together somehow.”

I swallowed and nodded. The traffic started through another cycle.

“Why don’t we go to your house, have something to drink and see if we can start to piece this together?”

“Alright. Okay, but um…“ I started think about the state of my apartment and whether or not I had something edible at the house.

“How about we pick up something over there?” She indicated the Super Mercado that Enjeru was already walking into.

“Y-Yeah, we could I guess…“

“Don’t worry about it. We’ll make Enjeru pay for it.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry.” I mumbled. Her attempt at humor didn’t quite erase the growing embarrassment I was feeling.

“Never apologize for something like that.” She gently took the pack from my shoulder and slung it onto her own.

“C’mon.” She said as she guided me forward into the crosswalk, arm lightly across my shoulders. “I can’t wait to see what Enj is picking out for us.” She didn’t sound enthusiastic at all.

 [Next: Taking Notes]

Subject Uncooperative: Seating Arrangements

[continued from: Bus Stop Waiting] When I saw the bus down the street I had a momentary thrill that I was done with Enjeru. I didn't know what to think –I couldn't think. Her chatter seemed endless and didn't give me a quiet moment to think through what was happening. A bus ride would give me the perfect place process the fact that I had met the main character in a story I had attempted to write some time ago. There was a small but very vocal part of me that was utterly thrilled and wanted to have us a little sit down Q and A session but there was that smarter part of me that persevered. The last thing I needed in my life was Enjeru, plain and simple.

"Well," I said as I stood up and thrust my hand out at her. It seemed the decent thing to do. "Here's my bus. It was nice to meet you, Enjeru." I lied.

She stood too but didn't take my offered hand instead she stuffed her hands into the pockets of her long motocross shorts. "I'm not going anywhere except with you." Her smile seemed kind of manic. "I haven't been on a bus in… Hey, have I ever been on a bus?"

"But- No! You cant!" My panicked blurting stopped when I remembered something. I pointed back in the direction of the coffee shop. "You don't need a bus. You have your motorcycle."

Enjeru looked about to either side of her as if the bike would've been parked on the sidewalk right next to us. "Do I?"

"What –Where's your helmet?" Though she still had her courier bag slung over her shoulder there was no sign of her helmet.

She shrugged "I don't need a helmet if I don't have a bike." And then shuffled into my space corralling me toward the doors of the bus that had just folded open with a hiss.

"Wait!" I had grabbed the edges of the doorway in the same way a cat locks its limbs on the edges of a sink before you push it in for its bath. I argued over my shoulder with Enjeru who was gently nudging me to step up onto the bus. "Wait. What about Sullaco? You can't- That bike means everything to you. You wouldn't just abandon it!"

"Him. Not 'it'," She corrected me. "And no fucking shit I wouldn't abandon him. That's because you didn't bring him with me. You abandoned him, pendeja!" she hissed in my ear as she continued her ushering.

"What?! No. Nah-ah." I shrugged off her crowding and turned to face her. Accusatory jabs of my finger stabbed the air in front of her face. "Now you listen! I didn't do anything. You just showed up! You sat at my table. I never asked for you to come bother me!" With every punctuation that I made a corner of her mouth started to pull into a grin that was more and more dangerous.

"HEY! Leave your bullshit outside and get on or get the hell away from my bus." The bus driver barked. "You're letting all the good air out!"

I found myself in front of the meter going through my pockets as the bus started rolling. While I was silently fuming that on top of everything else I would of course have to lose my bus pass Enjeru reached past me and fed a couple of bills and coins into the machine. "Exact change." Her declaration was one of triumph and she flashed a gleeful smile. There wasn't a trace of the argument we were just having.

I muttered my thanks, resenting her cheerful "De nada!" in reply but when I heard her unmasked sound of disgust and, "Da fuck is this stench!? 'Good Air' my ass." I enjoyed moment of smugness. I had processed the soup of body order, fatigued Freon and baked rubber with the practiced ease that only Las Vegas public transit commuters could master.

Looking for a spot that wouldn't have Enjeru sitting next to me I moved into the belly of the bus. The front area, where the seats were arranged subway-style along the sides, I passed through quickly; too much room for her to squeeze in next to me. My mission was to find the first unoccupied seat next to someone in the rows section. A quick scan told me I had almost passed up the ideal place. Jerking back a step I bumped Enjeru backwards and slid past woman in a somber uniform to sit next to the window. I ignored Enjeru's spout of profanity and focused my attention outside my window.

Once Enjeru moved on I gave my neighbor the perfunctory smile-nod one gives strangers when briefly sharing close proximity. Ordinarily that exchange would've ended my interest in a stranger but I realized I was sitting next to someone in some type of 'official' position. She had returned my nod while she spoke terse phrases into a mic that curved around her ear and integrated seamlessly into sleek wraparound shades. Her uniform was far too tailored and smartly styled to be something as mundane as HP or Metro. It reminded me of the Marine dress uniform in its cut but it was featureless: subtle shifts of dark gray, no visible fasteners to speak of, and no markings or decorations of any type except for a logo patch on the shoulder. Most likely a private outfit but certainly a person in that uniform would at least have a company owned vehicle to get around in and not public transport.

As I was surreptitiously studying and speculating about the woman Enjeru came back up the aisle from the back and moved into the area reserved for wheelchairs. Of course it would just happen to be in front of our seats. She brought down the fold away seat and sat sideways and hunched forward enough to rest her elbows on her knees.

"I was going to sit next to you but someone's in my seat. S'awright though. This works." I was assaulting Enjeru with the most vicious glare I could muster until I realized that she wasn't even looking at me. "Watchu think? Better than that oven outside, huh? I think the only thing worse than walking around in this glorious heat has gotta be riding a bus. I mean, sure, it's cooler but dat smell doh… Oh hey! Nice goggles. Can I try them on? I'll let you wear mine."

"Oh god." I heard myself croak as I imagined that this agent of who-knows-what would probably get us kicked off the bus.

The other woman turned and stared as Enjeru yammered on. Enjeru then paused as she apparently did expect the woman to remove her shades and hand them over. The agent did slide them off, holding them long enough for the visor, ear blades and mic to fold and retract into themselves with delicate clicking. She now held a dense featureless card the size of a comb that she slid into a barely visible off-center seam in her sleeve. Her only answer to Enjeru was let out a sigh that was as deep as something I might have made but with somewhat less exasperation. It sounded like resignation in fact. She then turned to me and said something. I didn't hear her because I was stunned by the fact I was looking into the same face as Enjeru's.

The same but not at all alike. She wore the subtle make up of a professional while Ejeru wore none at all. The spark of mischief in Enjeru's eyes was missing, replaced by a guarded distance that didn't quite hide sadness. Not short spiky two-tone red hair but long dark hair that was pulled into a neat bun except for long bangs that framed the same olive, though untanned, face. It was Enjeru's twin.

"Enzeru." I knew her.  I knew her uniform and what it meant. I understood the advanced communication tech, the function and form of her uniform --even the patch emblem on shoulder; a stylized DPC. I had designed it. She was an agent of the Dimensional Portal Control and, with the silent clicks of Legos locking into place, I was suddenly recalling everything like I had done earlier at the café. I knew what she had to go through to earn that suit and I knew what she would go through after. My mouth went dry and I felt ashamed. "I'm so sorry." I blurted.

Her careful smile told me she understood what I meant. She shook her head and tilted it in the direction of her sister. "No, I'm sorry about her."

My eyes watered even as I blurted out a clumsy laugh to which Enzeru chuckled.

Crucified by the horrific understanding of what these characters would endure I was shocked by that smile. In that expression  Enzeru offered both forgiveness and commiseration. My heart ached at the grace she lent: a bit of humor that, if I chose to, would keep us from dreadful truths just a little while longer. She had given me an out. I wasn't sure how much latitude it gave me but at least, for the moment, I could look her in the eye.

We shared that moment of fragile laughter while Enjeru looked between us with a furrowed brow.

"What… What?"

Subject Uncooperative: Bus Stop Waiting

[continued from: Javelina]  

"Oh, god… I feel sick." The plummeting sensation shocked me into action. My hands fluttered over my laptop and notebooks as I hastily went about closing shop. I tried to ignore the sound of my guest, Enjeru –my mind insisted that it was Enjeru- laughing at me. "Hey, where ya going? Ya gotta buy me a brownie first."

"I'm not buying you anything. I have to leave." With my junk stuffed in my pack I shrugged it on and stood up, my chair scraping noisily over the tile.

"Oh? And go where?" Enjeru seemed thoroughly amused. She grinned up at me from her slouch, cocking her head to the side.

"Just-" I couldn't help the agitated waving as I spoke. "Away. Away from here. Away from you and, and, and… I can't deal with this." I turned and pushed through the door into the wall of baked air that is the Las Vegas summer. In record time the hoodie I was wearing was lashed to the bungee webbing at the back of my bag. I felt naked but one more layer was unbearable. One oh eight and sunny said my phone when it woke me this morning to which I thought At least it isn't one twelve or something. It certainly felt like one eighteen by the time I reached the bus stop. I sat on the shade covered bench trying to drown out manic incoherent thoughts by blasting the Liquid Dubstep channel on DI.fm. I thought I was alone until I heard Enjeru next to me. The only sign of my startlement was me yanking out my earbuds.

She was sitting right beside me, slightly less slouched than at the coffee shop, enough so that her arm rested across the backrest of the bench. I leaned forward, resting elbows upon knees. I wasn't about to keep trying to run from the girl in that heat. From between clenched teeth I muttered. "Will you please leave me alone? I don't know what you want. Even if I did I'm pretty sure I can't help you."

"You shoulda bought me that brownie is what you shoulda oughta did. Aint no way to treat a guest that you invited over. Pullin' me outta LA into this Hellscape, n' shit. What the fuck is this man?" She began to unbuckle and pull off her gloves. "Seriously. Who the fuck lives in this kind of messed up bug-under-a-magnifying-glass kinda town anyway?"

I said nothing, biting at the inside of my cheek and looking for any sign of the bus down the way.

"Look, there's a Dunkin' Donuts across the street. Nevermind. You might miss the bus, the way your day's going." Sitting up enough to look around she jerked a thumb at the building behind us. "The Sebbin Lebbin right here. Get me a snickers, a Danish, Red Vines, a beer –something. Anything. C'mon." When I pointedly looked away from the 7-11 she groaned "You're killin' me, man!"

I kept straining, looking down the street.

"Hey, you know that song 'Bus Stop?'" Enjeru began to sing the song, substituting any references of rain with solar flares and napalm.

The bus couldn't come fast enough.

[Next: Seating Arrangements]

Subject Uncooperative: Javelina

Though my headache was fading I could still feel how my eyelids were still tight and puffy. I shrugged further into my hoodie and concentrated on the screen in front of me and urged my fingers to fly faster over the keys. Keep focused, keep busy. People won't notice you've been crying. They'll just see another coffee shop blogger. On the heels of that I heard Adelle's voice "Is it that important to you what strangers think, KaMu?" Fuck. It hadn't even been an hour after I collected myself and pushed up out of the comfy loveseat in my therapist's office, leaving behind a handful of wadded up tissues like a nest of broken origami fledglings; I was still –still- hearing her questions. The damned therapy sessions. I hated them. Maybe I didn't hate them as much as I needed them and that, I hated more than anything. Brownies baking back in the kitchens distracted me as I tried to compose a fight scene. At the moment I was letting words spill out in a stream of consciousness block that I told myself I would organize later. My inner editor was glad of the interruption. I was just spewing keywords at that point. It might as well have been a pile of hashtags to accompany a square cropped, motion blurred image of a capuchin riding a javelina.

"Cute." A weathered bag with formidable buckles and webbing dropped in between me and the person that dropped, as heavily as her bag, into the chair opposite mine. "As long as I'm the capuchin and not the javelina." I grabbed the edges of the little pedestal table to settle it from its wobbling. My empty smoothie cup fell and rolled to rest near her foot. Thick armored motocross boots encroached my space as my new neighbor slouched back in her chair and kicked her legs out. "Wait. Maybe I want to be the javelina. Those little fuckers are pretty kickass in their own right." Her eyes seemed to study the light fixtures above as if they might provide insight into the question of monkey or peccary.

Something was eerily familiar about her. I started the mental back-scrolling trying to remember and found that my mind wouldn't lock on anything. Everything before my visit with the therapist was a haze; an almost remembered image or idea that would dissolve into the murky soup of my mind.

Setting the cup back on the table I managed, "Excuse me?"

Ignoring me she stretched out and yawned hugely before slumping back into her rag doll posture "Yeerg. Fucking cagers! Mmm… I smell brownies. Hey, buy me a brownie."

I hesitantly looked about the shop. Only a couple of people in line and another seated in a tall chair at the bar. Plenty of seating but this stranger wanted to share my tiny table. Fully intending to ask her to find somewhere else to sit I said "Excuse me?"

"Oh, don't even act like you don't know me, chica."

"Huh? Umm- I don't."

"Por favor, mujer. Don't act stupid." In response to my blank look she threw her arms open to encompass the space and raised her voice "You call the shots, right? Is this, or is this not your show?"

"I..."

"For the love of skunk pigs! Get with it!"

"I'm sorry but I'm lost. Or maybe you are. You're mistaking me for someone else."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Shut up and listen: It's kind of lucky for you that I'm the first one you pulled in, but look: the others are going to show up eventually and they're not as nice as I am. Most likely they're not going to be happy. Matter of fact, some of them are going to be fucking livid. You get me?"

She was talking to me as if she knew me and a foggy nagging assured me that I knew her. I stopped trying to make sense of what she was saying and just really looked at her; the girl that sat in front of me, not the stranger that had interrupted my writing.

Though she was short her figure was impressive in a motley array of worn motorcycle gear. In varying degrees she was wrapped in leather, carbon fiber, mesh and armor attached with Velcro or Fastex clips. There was a line like a scar that ran across her cheeks and the bridge of her nose, the arcs matched the lower curve of the goggles that hung from a faded strap around her neck. That line was the demarcation of natural brown skin tone and a shade of dust that coated her face below the goggle-line. Her thumbs, index and middle fingers were exposed by cutoff gloves with Kevlar reinforced knuckles. These she drummed on the scuffed up helmet in her lap as she watched me from under short messy wisps of red ombre hair.

"Oh, shit! You're the courier." I whispered, partly thrilled, partly horrified as memory snapped into place and erased the fog.

"Glory-fucking-be. She remembers me. How sweet." She flashed a smile that was not at all a smile. I felt my face start to flush. It was the kind of embarrassment reserved for the moment you are about to introduce someone who's name you just up and forgot. It didn't seem to matter as much to her. Her gaze was fixed intently on me as if she was waiting for something. An arched brow urged me past my awkwardness onto the next thought.

"And the others…" I started to remember them. "Oh. Fuck."

"Yep. Now you get me. Welcome to your world, chica."

[Next: Bus Stop Waiting]