Re: The Blind Leading The Blind
Posted: Tue Mar 13, 2012 4:43 am
by darkmelee
CONTINUED -
The sound her backpack makes when landing on the carpet is a muddled thump of a noise, books and stationary alike coming to an unexpected rest at ground level. With some minor fuss along the lines of maneuvering amidst my somewhat massive desk, Kayane manages to free the annoying time-keeping device from its place on the wall. She nearly trips, but thankfully catches herself. Admittedly, there isn't much I could do in the way of catching her in such an accident until after the fact. It took some work to get the clock off the small nails that had been keeping the clock aligned in its position, and having finished with the ordeal, she breathes out a relieved sigh, followed by her more natural laughter.
"That could have been bad."
I can't come up with anything meaningful to say that wouldn't be more than 'Well, it's good that it wasn't bad', which would just be redundant.
"Alright, then," she says. "I'll be back in a few minutes. I'm gonna get the laptop and see if we can't figure this out." I wave, saying that I'll not be going anywhere, and her exit is swift. Using this moment of solitude, I move with a speed I'd forgotten I was able to achieve and frantically attempt to locate my slacks, which I'd really like to be wearing in extended company like this.
A panicked foot finds them crumpled alongside one of the posts of the desk, unfortunately inverted. I probably should have taken the time to discard them with a little care, but it's too late now, and the responsibility is my own in whatever amount of time I have until she returns. Again, moving so hastily is almost against my usual means. Rarely is there a situation where I'm in any sort of rush, even in dire washroom-related tragedies.
The length of my arm inside of the reversed pant leg, I hold tightly to the cuff and yank with considerable force. It's met with some resistance, and I'm lucky to have prevented a serious tear the way the fabric fights back to my pull. I only barely finish hopping about to assist in getting the waistline of the pants past my own when I can make out more footsteps returning from the direction Kayane made off to. I have only enough time to zip up, fasten the button along the brim, and drop onto the mattress before the subtle presses on the carpet come to a stop at my door's post. Sitting in a faux-relaxed manner, a little out of breath from such a sudden and unhealthy dose of commotion, I sit as though i haven't moved an inch since her departure. After announcing her return, Kayane pushed the door lazily open before closing it in full just afterward.
She makes no mention of my pants, and I am grateful.
"I got my notebook." She taps the device's plastic casing to confirm it to me. "It's a little old, but it should be able to handle a CD. I'll just need to turn the sound up since stereo doesn't work well through the speakers."
"Do you need an outlet?" I ask. I don't remember stumbling upon any in my short inspection earlier, not that I should be poking my fingers around in search of them.
"The battery in this sucker should be good for a few hours at least." She hurries forward and presumably sets up her computer in the middle of the floor, with various clicks and other incidental sounds coming from her position. I want to comment on the fact that she's using a laptop directly on carpeting, and I remember that being something that isn't recommended... but she's the one who's doing this, and she likely has more experience with technology than I.
The thing roars to life with a heavy *whirr*. I'm not fond of the noise at first, though the fans trickle slowly to a more easily forgettable level, with only our breathing being more pronounced. It does, however, take a dreadfully long time to start up.
"It takes a bit, since it's out of date. Should just be a minute, though."
"Are you good with computers?" I ask her.
Because I sure as hell am not.
"Umm... I'd say I can do a lot, but I'm not great. I usually just play games and mess around on the internet." She shuffles herself into a more comfortable position on the floor. Seeing this as good a time as any, I gauge the distance and sit myself down relatively close to her, but not too close as to be intrusive. She continues, saying, "I've actually been scolded for wasting bandwidth from the staff."
"Do you really use that much?" I ask this as soon as the opening melody of the operating system chimes, celebrating a successful boot. Through the tips of my fingers on the carpet, I can sense the tiny motors' movements as it chugs along.
"No," she says. "Well, not that much." She doesn't say much else on the topic, so I can assume that she's not prepared a proper argument for herself just yet. I grin, if only a tad bit, as I listen to her. She left her backpack in her room, it seems. In retrospect, I'm not sure of any other students lugging one around. It's possible, of course, since I would have no clear way of discerning one's presence without being fairly close, but none of the other students I've approached today were in possession of anything more than a handbag.
"Finally, it's ready," she assures me before asking for the disc itself. I get back into a standing position, to which my knees find this a welcome moment to snap and pop like they've never done anything of the sort before, and line myself to what I'm assuming is the direction of my bed. I'm relieved to be in the right, and easily find and retrieve the jewel case. I orient myself again, and make my way to the center of the room, which is only a short distance, but...
"Woah," Kayane says, as she grabs my right calve. I'd missed the mark by a fair deal, and it's only her grasp that prevents me from trodding further off course. Embarrassed, I correct myself and plop down alongside her, this time a little closer, and display the CD case where she can take it from me.
I feel so stupid.
"i'm so stupid," I say, reflecting my thoughts almost exactly. My shoulders have begun to sulk as I ease into a more settled position. I run my fingers along the trim of my clothing, the tips of my digits biding their time in my moment of ineptitude. Uneasily, I move my feet slightly, the end of one of my socks having made some distance from my toes. I adjust it, tugging it tightly, the small scene replaying an uncountable amount of times as I do so.
You can't even walk on your own without that cane or a wall, can you?
While removing the disc from its protective case, Kayane counters, "You're not stupid, you just made a mistake. Everyone makes mistakes."
It sounds as though she's removing a disc from the laptop, most likely required for one of her games that she plays.
"I've made loads of mistakes," I say, attempting to cement my idiocy. Without going into specifics, my seemingly innocent declaration holds a hefty weight. My somber expression evokes a response, just as she places the intended compact disc into its respective tray on the laptop.
"Moving forward to an unknown future is always preferable to standing still in a definite present, even more so than looking back on what you've failed at in the absolute past." She quickly notes, "I'm not really sure how that expression might affect you. Some people take offense to stuff like that, even at the mention of sight."
"That's deep," I declare.
"I made it up," she counters. "Still, it'd be cool if you'd let me know what you're okay with me saying, because I can say a lot. My mouth gets me into stupid situations all the time."
She confronts it confidently, and, as such, I answer truthfully.
"Hmm. You can say what you want around me so long as it's not obscenely offensive or anything. Even then, I probably couldn't stop you."
I'm speaking so well right now, with nary a bad euphemism or stutter to be found. She is right, though; some sightless people are very sensitive to these sort of things, even within reasonable context.
"I bet you could, actually," she says in response. "I'm not very strong right now, and you look... like you work out or something." She laughs. "If I were to honestly offend you, I could only guarantee that I'd be more apt to get away quickly or apologize the hell out of the situation."
I blush, unsure of how to reply. I still would not call myself fit.
My father, being in the Japanese Navy, had a room fitted with various exercise equipment for several years, up until recently. At first, I would find him in there for a few hours a day, when he'd be home, that is. We would chat about school, and he would get me up to date on the few people I'd known from the members of his crew - Mr. Hochi was always my favorite, and is the one who gave me my special watch. After one my father's longer absences, my mother was open to my own suggestion that I get into a nice, and totally relaxed, low-stress routine.
That routine ended up becoming fairly arduous and was eventually a daily endeavor for me, although it should be said that any sort of personal workout would have been strenuous without prior experience. While my arms and legs could only handle so much punishment with defined presses and flexing, the ability to run on his treadmill was something I can hardly replicate safely, and proved to be the most rewarding of them all.
Sure, I could easily find an open expanse of flat terrain, but maneuvering my way back would be cumbersome indeed. No, this was perfect, and with soft rails to ensure my security, it was a wonderful way to keep my body in a fair state. My time with Chikka seems to have averted me from such activities, due to her wanting a more feminine daughter. Over time, I faded out of the habit. I never achieved an incredible tone or anything spectacular, though I can tell that my build is still relatively decent, given the downtime since, but between the physical stresses of my suicide attempt, and an uneven eating schedule, I've gotten a touch softer.
'Strong right now', I ponder again in my head, retreading our exchange. I know her statement could mean a number of things. She may just be tired, or worn out from her day - I certainly am. The idea of something more effectual, a trickling of somber dread that maybe this girl isn't in good health; it crosses my mind several times. If it weren't for the nature of Yamaku, I suppose I wouldn't be putting others within such doubtful scrutiny, that I can't take a simple statement at face value.
Seeing this a logical jumping point, I take the dive with only minimal restraint, intending to ask for clarification, as she herself was so willing to say as much. Before my mouth can form the question, however, it's interrupted by her mouth, which has already processed a thought and exclaims, "Oooh, it's a CD-ROM."
Perking up, I respond in an intellectual and learned manner.
"Huh?"
Or something similar to a mental hiccup.
"It means it does more than just play sound. It looks like it's the whole shabang, too." After several clicks, Kayane mumbles something about the audio. Moments later, it seems she's finished with whatever needed to be done.
"Well?" she says.
"...Well?" I say back, a little confused.
"Are you ready?" Before I can reply, she's scooted herself and the laptop closer to me, the two of being within inches of one another. "Sorry if I'm too close. The sound only goes so high."
"It's... no problem."
Earlier, I was wary of her getting this close, but now that she 's become so near to me, I find myself against the idea of her moving farther. Maybe it's her sweet scent, or the miniscule warmth I can sense from her, but Kayane's presence is soothing to me; a sort of comfortable niceness that I haven't received as much in the past several years as I have been this first day on campus.
I'm too quick to associate familiarity with security.
"Here we go," she says as she begins the program. As it begins, we are first greeted by a young and confident man, introducing himself as the narrator for the speech and giving a small list of previous credentials; namely other things of this sort I have no real knowledge of. To a concerned party, I imagine it would be important for credibility, but in this sudden introduction, we don't have much opinion on the subject.
Then, the lad explains that the presentation covers many facets of social sciences and marketing, which is neat, and I say as much when it's brought up. As it gets going, however...
It gets really boring really quickly.
I mean, holy hell, is this dreadfully uninteresting. The charisma of the announcer dredges slowly from his voice as the statistics and percentages start flowing into play. In the span of roughly ten minutes, we'd gone from being wholly curious to appallingly disheartened. Why would I need to know the population of some backward city in the middle of nowhere and its correlation to the price of chicken imports?
Aside from those who import Western hens, of course.
I enjoy learning. I love to discover a new theory, or uncover some relevant correlation between two different facets, but this is absurd, and completely unnecessary for me to even attempt to give a damn. In a fit of desperation, I ask Kayane, "Exactly how long is this?" My legs are wriggling about on their own, just struggling to occupy themselves in this state of inaction. I keep turning a different ear to the screen to hear better, thinking maybe if it sounds clearer, it would be more interesting.
It is not.
She moves forward a moment as the narrator continues his offense. Following a grunt of dissatisfaction, she answers.
"Two hours and twelve minutes."
I say nothing, but slump in place. My fingers graze the roughness of the carpeting.
"This is..." I begin.
"...Boring." "Boring."
We chuckle in unison, writing this entire ordeal off before it's even nearly finished. After she's done with her giggling, Kayane speaks up again. She sounds like she's moving around in place, her voice moving from side to side when she talks to me.
"Haha. Do you even need to listen to this?"
"I doubt it."
"You wanna listen to a bunch of comedy specials instead? I don't think they're gonna quiz you on this, after all."
"That sounds like fun."
The time passes without a single missed step. After assisting me in replacing the presentation into its designated case for return, Kayane and I spend the rest of my evening leaning against the edge of my bed, watching (and listening) to various comedy acts and hilarious speeches. Other than her getting up to turn my light on, as the sun has apparently opted out for the night, we've been sitting in close proximity like this for much of the time. It makes hearing her as she reads the subtitles to foreign skits all that much easier, though.
I kind of like this sort of friendliness. Chikka would watch comedy programs late at night when she'd be up working on a project at home. I would sometimes listen in, but many of their jokes would go oover my head. She seemed to think they were funny, but I didn't find their styles of humor particularly interesting.
We've been laughing at these shows, of course, but also at the snide little remarks we would make when a joke falls flat. One comedian in particular had a very rough crowd during his first performance, but he made up for it with perhaps the biggest laughs of the night near the end of it. He did better shows, though, and the one we are watching right now is his most recent, and its great to know he'd improved and grown up in his mannerisms. It ends with a bang before the end titles play, and with that, we're out of videos for now.
Once our combined laughter has ebbed, Kayane shuts the notebook down and closes its lid. Within a few seconds, the device has powered down completely and the fans cease. The sound of leaves *ratta* rustle and tap the covered window in the room. There's an almost insignificant rumble of thunder that I wouldn't have caught on to if I couldn't feel it through my body on the floor. I can't judge the distance from inside like this, and it would be useless information at this hour.
The weather has picked up again, but thankfully, I am perfectly safe and sheltered indoors like this. I find solace in the fact that I really have nothing left to do tonight but sleep, and this pleasant diversion has been both good for passing the time, but also great for keeping me content. Laughter isn't the best medicine in reality, but it sure is something we could all use form time to time.
"it's nice to watch someone get better at what they strive to do," Kayane says, breaking our unintended silence these past few minutes. I push a part of the sheet which has managed to drape onto my shoulder back atop the bed as I think over what to talk about.
"Do you have any hobbies?" I ask, not that I have many to talk about.
"Well, I'm in the Music Club. I play the piano, mostly, but I occasionally arrange music for the other students. I joined it last year, so I'm moving up in seniority, too. It's nice to be able to tell the first-years what to do, sometimes. It makes me feel nice and bossy - but not too bossy."
I had piano lessons for a very short time when I was younger. The instructor found it difficult to teach me properly, and eventually my father felt that it wasn't a good investment at the time, so we postponed it. We never got back to it, sadly. I liked the sounds the teacher could create, but hated my inability to locate the keys properly, moreso my lack of talent in combining creativity and motor skills to work in tandem. Still, it was a nice distraction when I was successful.
I could use some distractions, these days.
"What kind of clubs are there, here?"
"Uhmm. There's a Literature Club, like books and stuff. Your selection would be kind of limited if you joined, though."
That's an unfortunate truth. Braille isn't a universal language to any extent, and translations are even harder to come by for foreign materials.
"...But there's still the Art Club, which has a blind student in it, and I hear he does fairly well, given -"
She falters for a breath, realizing what sort of statement she's about to make. When she can't find the words, I implore her to not worry about my feelings when talking about something so inherently realistic. I'm not so insensitive to others that I would judge them so harshly for minor and honest thoughts.
Kayane continues, "Given that he's blind, and he's really not that good at anything but sculpting, though it is very good work from what the teacher tells me." She collects herself. "Sorry. Like I said, some people are really sensitive to stuff that reminds them..."
"Why they're here," I add.
"Yea."
"You don't need to answer me, of course, but, why did you enroll at Yamaku?"
She readjusts her seating. I may have rustled her mentality, but her voice shows no sign of disdain or apathy. She's almost glad that I would be so curious about her.
"I know you can't see it, but I've got a lot of little cuts and scarring on my hands, and a few on my legs, but they're not as bad. There's a little one left over on my head where I took a fairly heavy hit, but it's mostly gone and the hair's grown back over where I got cut. I was in a car wreck last year, and my hands were trapped under a bent piece of steel. It smashed some bones, but it wasn't enough for me to lose them or anything. Broke my nose, though."
But I thought you played piano...
"You said that you play piano, though. How...?"
"Well, my wrist, and forearms have some metal rods in them, and it's been long enough that my muscles have gotten back in the groove for it. It still hurts, sometimes, when I do something too complex, but that's how I get better - by building my strength up one peaceful sonata at a time."
"I've only been in one car accident, and it was minor. It must have been terrifying to be involved in one that actually left a mark like that."
"I was asleep before it happened, and then I woke up about a month later from a coma. It was terrible, and disorienting, but I wasn't scared, just sad." She lacks the somber quality that I would tint to such a statement. Instead, she talks as if it just happened to be a bad day, but the next day was normal as always - a singular occurrence in an otherwise uneventful time.
"You're lucky" I say to her, having turned to her direction, my arms resting atop my knees. "It would have been horrible if you'd lost your arms or something."
"Well, I did lose something..."
Oh no. I hadn't even played with the idea that she'd lost a family member or anything in the crash. I sit there with my mouth unsure of whether to declare an apology or to segue to a less troublesome topic. I'm prepared to exclaim my condolences, only she catches on to my thought process and preempts me with her playful voice, of which I'm growing fond of hearing.
"Nonono, nobody died because of it, although my brother took a nasty bruise to his left cheek. Face. It was a face cheek."
"Oh," is all I can think to say at that, and smirk at her need to clarify. That's good to hear, actually. I was expecting a full tragedy that I would need to claw myself out of in embarrassment. I wouldn't know how to deal with myself should I make anyone else burst into tears.
"...Though I did lose my sense of smell because of it." She sniffles shortly, due to congestion, I would hope, and not this sudden revelation.
My eyes widen as I struggle to stop my mouth to open to the same degree. This is an unexpected revelation, and despite her nonchalant delivery, I fear I've let my humble curiosity take me into a conversation I cannot escape safely. I've yet to say anything about my past to her, but she's already delved into some of the more dire details of her life so far.
"Uhh," I fumble, unsure of how to react. She picks up on my unease and pokes my elbow. I jump a little in response, and she just laughs at me.
"It's all right, you know. It's just something I need to live with, like the pins in my hands." After popping another piece of candy into her mouth, I call her on it.
"So, if you have no sense of smell, then how well is your taste now?"
"Almost completely gone," she says. "I took such a hard hit to my head and the bridge of my nose that a lot of the functionality just... died out right then. When I woke from the coma, it was obvious that something was amiss, even through the tubing."
My heart stops, or at least it may as well have, because the rest of me has frozen. this is partly due to reminding me of my own stint in the hospital, but much of my concern is on her loss of two forms of perception so invaluable to me.
Kayane continues, "I'm very particular about getting strong flavors, or super sour stuff when my tongue can handle it. Most everything else is really weak."
My visage openly displays my feelings about this.
"But don't worry about it," she insists to me, patting me on my thigh with subtle force. "It's just the way things are, you know? I can't let this affect me for the rest of my life, or I'd just be some bitter old tart for all time."
...Interesting expression, considering what she said about herself.
"...You don't have a waste bin," Kayane says, fondling the wrapper to the hard candy in her palm, crunching it rater loudly, like to emphasize for me to understand what the situation is about. She seems to do that: make her intentions clear to me in a way that my blindness cannot affect.
Comprehending what she's just told me, I regret not realizing this earlier. Were I a surveyor, they'd dock my pay.
"I guess I could just, I dunno... allocate a portion of the floor for refuse."
She's laughing again, and it make me smile like an idiot. I like when people are happy. It make me feel like I don't need to placate any discomforts or anything. I can be more natural about my behavior, and it makes speaking far easier without my filter tripping me up as much.
"So what other clubs are there?" I ask her, getting back on track. I don't want to dwell on another lost sense, given she must deal with the topic all the time as it is. I know I do. She puts off an aura of contentment, but I would do best to simply steer clear of this topic for now. As far as I can tell, she's put the wrapper somewhere I can't verify, as the crunching has stopped completely. I hope she didn't chuck it under the mattress.
"Well..." she says, "There's an Astronomy Club."
"That's, uhhh..."
"Hey, now. I'm only mentioning it cause you asked. Besides, there actually is a blind girl in it right now -" adding quickly, "I don't know her personally though. I'm guessing that she's in it for the night air, or she has a crush on somebody in the club."
"I like the night air," I say in this complete stranger's defense. The cool calming breeze, and the palpable silence of the evening. All things are resting. It's something I look forward to every year during the summer."
I missed much of it this year.
I'm grateful she doesn't have some sort of literal response to my words. It can become frustrating always being corrected when using terms related to sight. I understand figurative language, but it takes so much effort usually to inform others without them first making it clear that what I say is impossible. Kayane doesn't make this distinction.
A wandering hand manages to make its way to my watch. It's getting fairly late.
"Kayane," I ask politely.
"Yes?"
"I'm curious. Why would you spend an indeterminate span of your afternoon and evening with someone you've never met before?"
"Huh? I don't know. I wanted to make sure I let Miki be by herself for a few hours, though I may have overdone it."
"Miki?"
"Oh, Miki Miura. She's been staying in my room while they finish hers. She has a test tomorrow, and I told her to study for it while I give her some space. She's supposed to get her dorm back any day now, if I remember right."
"Do you think she's really working hard right now?"
"Nah. It's not in her character. She's been nice to me, though. She likes to use my laptop to distract herself, hence my willingness to bring it over here, haha."
"Ah."
"So, were you saying that you didn't want to hang out with me tonight?"
That sounded desperate.
Fake as hell, but the idea is in there.
"Oh, no! I just... Everyone's been so damn friendly with me today. It's like we've all known each other for years and only now got reacquainted. The only sore spot would be the Nurse, but he has his reasons."
I didn't meant to bring that up.
"Oh, you had to visit the Nurse?"
"Yes," I answer truthfully.
"He can be a butt. He's a caring, compassionate man, but he can be the biggest ass when he wants you to feel bad about yourself." She's so close right now, her breath and mine only barely audible between each other. "I'm talking major mighty sumo ass."
And then she gets up, grabbing the notebook with both hands as she rises. It's a fair bet that she must not have too much trouble carrying something so light around freely. To be so weakened that you couldn't handle your daily bookwork, however; that's a smidge depressing. Thankfully, she has her backpack for anything too demanding, and now it all makes sense as to why.
I train my face to the direction of her voice as she speaks, still possessing that relaxed and almost aloof quality.
"It's getting late, though. I should probably get going."
I get up as well, to show her off. The room may not support my efforts, being only so many meters in any direction, but the gesture is implied as we travel a very small amount of distance to the door. I manage to not hit anything along the way, either - hooray for me. She turns the knob, but allows me to grab the door, with her help, so I can close it behind her when she leaves. As we stand there, one of us within, the other without, I can't help but feel good about how this turned out.
"I had a lot of fun, Kayane. Thanks for stopping by. I'm sorry the CD was, umm, crap? I can say it was crap, right?"
"Yea, just don't tell Yoshino that when she comes back. I had a lot of fun, too. It was nice to just sit down and not have to think for a while."
She lingers on that sentence, and as she finishes, I smile happily.
"I appreciated it."
"You look tired, Naofumi."
"I could die any second now."
With a cheerful sort of glee, she bids me farewell for the evening as I flip the light switch to its 'off' position, as I surely don't need them as much as most normal people would. Closing the door, and subsequently locking it, I am once again by myself in a strange room.
It's less strange now, though.
I've already started to build memories in here.
My feet hobble unevenly toward the bed. The weariness hits me harder now that I've come to the realization that the day is truly over. Once on the bed, I reach under it to find my phone, in order to set the alarm for the next morning. I'll need to be up early enough to allow travel time to the Nurse's office. Sure not to miscount, I fiddle with the keys until I'm certain I've proceeded correctly - I don't want to wake to early, nor too late to do what I must.
I forgot to ask someone about the inner path to the Auxiliary Building again.
"Dammit, Fumi."
My alarm set, I put the phone atop the desk with a huff. Sighing with all of my inner rage, I roll myself onto the bed into a more sleepworthy placement of limbs. Finding that dissatisfactory, I fumble about for a few minutes before discovering a mutual arrangement for the greater part of my body. After a few minutes, I could care less how stiff my back might be in the morning. Right now, I'm gonna go to sleep, damn the consequences.
In the absence of a certain even ticking sound, the fresh peace envelops me, with the occasional gust of wind carrying leaves to my window's frame. It's never distracting, only a spackled sound in a room filled with nothing but the most incidental noises from elsewhere. I reflect on the day I've finally defeated, and the people I've come to know, each willing to help me get through it all.
Not counting the Nurse, there's Lilly, the calm and proper type - she could be a lot of help to me in class, when she's not doing Student Council duties. Misha, the loud, but well-meaning kind of girl - I expect her to get me in trouble, someday.
And Kayane, who just wanted to have some fun. Though I feel a sadness about the problems she has to live with, I'm flattered that she thought I was worth spending time with, even though we were originally going to do something entirely different from what actually occurred.
"This was fun." I enjoyed this. I thoroughly enjoyed spending my time like this, and it makes up for the frustrating and disorderly day that preceded it. I liked the part about apples...
That never happened. I need to go to freaking sleep.
My thoughts and senses are blending together now, as a steady slumber creeps its way onto the scene. I should use the restroom, and my bladder agrees, but it's so far away from the bed. My last thought is about the smell of her hair, of which I manage to lazily scold myself just as I fade away for the night to join whatever bizarre things I can imagine.
Sometime during the late evening, I'm awakened by a familiar musical melody.
I don't answer it.
END CHAPTER
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[Thank You Very Much]
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i'll see you guys after i've finished all of my distractions, and more importantly, after i've finished a major chunk of the second chapter, when the story gets going. i have it all planned out already; it's just getting there that i fret over.
this should be RELATIVELY free of minor typos. the braille is tenji, hoping i didn't botch the 'za' sound. might just use it for these sort of things.
45k words, cripes
Microsoft and google are no help *sigh* 
