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At noon Mercy stood in line at the BBQ stand just to get the contest rules. One step toward the counter without waiting her turn had nearly started a fight, so she moved to the end of the queue. A large sign announced “Sam’s Special Ribs” had won last year’s contest so when it was her turn Mercy changed her mind and ordered ribs with a side of coleslaw.
A friendly redhead with freckles and a nametag reading CASEY served her and nodded when Mercy made a remark about winning the contest. “It’s my brother’s secret recipe. He uses a special marinade.” She nodded at the row of commercial grills, tended to by a young man wearing a chef’s hat embroidered with SAM. Casey rang up the sale and Mercy grabbed a leaflet to read while she ate at a nearby picnic table.
Mercy skimmed the rules and then put the brochure aside. She was starving and ready to eat, pausing only to remove a bottle of water from her shoulder bag. Bits of conversation drifted through the air and one made her pause with a rib halfway to her mouth.
“I don’t know how much longer I can live like this!”
“Is it that bad?”
“You have no idea! And now he’s holding it over my head to force me to stay.”
“There must be something you can do.”
“The only way out is in a body bag. The question is whether it will be his or mine.”
Mercy turned around, trying not to appear obvious, but she couldn’t tell who it was. Maybe they had just paused near the tables before moving on. She shrugged and licked the sauce hanging from the rib but stopped for the next conversation.
“I can’t take much more of this!”
“I know, but it’s almost over. Just put it out of your mind.”
“Are you serious? The motel is just another insult.”
“Calm down! Have you been taking your meds?”
“Medicine? Ha! Let me tell you something: That man’s gonna get a taste of his own medicine, and I guarantee he’ll regret what he’s done.”
Mercy couldn’t see who was on the other side of the white canvas wall that separated them, but maybe that was a good thing. One of them had an ax to grind, and Mercy didn’t want to be on their hit list. It became quiet, and she was looking for spare napkins when she heard a familiar laugh. Spencer was walking with a gorgeous blonde holding his arm. Mercy’s eyes narrowed as he stopped and smiled before heading in her direction.
The napkins! Mercy was sure she had as much sauce on her face as everyone else eating the ribs, but they weren’t facing a woman who looked as if she stepped out of a magazine. The tanned lady wore her long blonde hair loose and Mercy wondered how she kept cool with it on her neck. She’d put her own dark hair up in two high pigtails before leaving her room that morning. Grr! It was too late for napkins, and Spence introduced the green-eyed blonde as Marlena.
Mercy held out her hand and became more embarrassed when she saw Marlena’s nose wrinkle in disdain at Mercy’s stained fingers. Spencer didn’t seem to notice and plunked down next to Mercy.
“Drop a load,” he invited the blonde, patting the bench.
She sniffed and declined. “I’ll see you later.”
As the woman walked away, Mercy called, “It was nice meeting you!” Not surprisingly, she didn’t get a response.
“Liar,” Spence said, helping himself to Mercy’s food.
“Well, don’t blame me for being raised with good manners,” Mercy replied. “So, is that your new girlfriend?”
He gave her a reproving look. “I told you I don’t have a girlfriend. Marlena’s just an acquaintance.” He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped her forehead, and she grabbed it with a moan.
“Please don’t tell me I have sauce up there.”
“Not anymore. But your cheeks and chin? Are you sure you want to know?”
“No! Yes! Give me those wipes I know you always keep in that pocket,” she demanded.
“What will I use if I give them all to you?” he asked in a teasing manner.
“Who cares? Obviously not cold Marlena. But the bus company expects me to look professional,” she said.
He handed her the packets and raised a skeptical brow. “Professional? Is that what you call that hairstyle? You look like a demented Mouseketeer with those puffs sticking up off your head.”
Mercy ignored the comment and scrubbed the sauce from her face before turning to him for an inspection. “Well?”
He grasped her chin and tilted her head for a closer look. “You missed a spot.”
She glanced at the pile of used wipes on the table and sighed. “I guess the bus company’s out of luck.”
Spence chuckled and released her chin. “I’m just kidding.” He reached past her for the flyer she’d set aside. “Are you entering the cookoff?”
“Yes,” she said. “How about you?”
He snorted. “Only if they’ll accept a canned entry.”
“I thought all men liked to grill.”
“I didn’t say I wasn’t capable of grilling. But I’m not good enough to enter contests,” he admitted, perusing the paper he held. His eyes flicked to hers. “Uh, oh. Are you prepared for disappointment?”
Too late! That happened when I saw the beauty stuck to you like glue. She gave him a toothy smile. “What do you mean?”
“This states the winner of the contest has a contract to go on the road with the Ranchero Roundup as they travel throughout the United States.”
Mercy nodded and waved at the rib stand. “I guess that’s why they’re here.”
“You didn’t read the fine print. The contract starts two weeks after the winner is announced. Do you plan on asking the FBI for an escort?”
She yanked the leaflet from him and read it for herself before tossing it onto the table. “Bugs! I only wanted the money! If I won that contest, I could give up the bus route.”
“So knitting isn’t panning out in Louisiana?” he asked. “Those scarves and woolen leggings aren’t hot sellers?”
“I’ve used up the yarn my grandmother sent and there’s no point in purchasing more supplies when I have them in Denver,” she explained. “The problem is she’s not able to ship them to me right away.”
“What—your mother can’t send things?”
She shook her head. “My parents don’t live in Denver and no one other than my grandmother would even know what to send.” She checked her watch and stood, gathering the trash from the table. “Well, I have to get back to work. Thanks for the cleaning supplies.”
He rose and took the garbage from her, then dumped it in the trash barrel. “Wait. There’s another spot.” He reached out and slowly rubbed his thumb against her lower lip.
Mercy stared at him and wondered if he was going to kiss her in public. Right next to the garbage can sitting in the hot sun and buzzing with flies. His head came closer, and she drew in a sharp breath. Well, that killed the moment! From the smell, she knew there was more than food scraps in the trash. Her face wrinkled as she looked around to see if there was a baby changing station nearby while he laughed at her expression.
“Am I really that offensive?” he asked.
She held her nose and pointed to the trash with her other hand. “I gotta go,” she said and nearly melted when he briefly brushed her cheek with the back of his hand. What’s your friend going to think when she hears about this? A senior woman hurriedly dropped her cell phone when Mercy glared at her over Spence’s shoulder, but her wrinkled lips were smooshed into a satisfied smirk, and Mercy knew she’d already sent a picture blazing across Sinful’s hot gossip wire.
“What time do you get off? I’ll take you to the carnival,” he offered.
“Will you let me ride the carousel?” she asked with a grin that showed off her dimples.
“No, but I’ll buy you a bag of caramel corn.”
“Okay. Five o’clock!” she hollered and ran for the bus which she had left parked on the street. It was already full and nearly rocking as the waiting crowd outside tried to convince the riders to give up their spots. Mercy had to fight her way through them to get to the door and board the bus. After seeing how the passengers behaved while waiting for the hot little bus, she understood why the bus company didn’t send a larger, air-conditioned vehicle. There would have been a riot by now.
On one pass through Sinful, she picked up Rusty Ramon and smiled at the BBQ rib bag he clutched. Apparently, even after a year, he still found them irresistible. There was no time to talk as anxious riders pushed him to the back of the bus.
At one point she pondered the idea of kicking everyone off so she could drive the bus into the bayou and leave it. Then she decided it would probably float like the Ark and the angry riders would force her to swim after it and bring it back. As the day progressed, she tried blocking out the inevitable gossip but her spongy brain absorbed snippets of conversation about Rusty Ramon.
“A young woman died after eating his tainted beef, and her parents sued Rusty.”
“I read she had a lot of health issues, so maybe it wasn’t the beef that killed her.”
“His ex business partner claims he was cheated when the company broke up.”
“Speaking of exes—have you seen Rusty’s ex lately? Cody Akers really got the short stick.”
“He’s not the only one. A few of our local contractors never got paid for jobs they did at Rusty’s ranch near Lafayette.”
“I know! Stella Stamp had to get a job after Ray got stiffed by Rusty.”
“So who’s watching their kids?”
“You tell me. I think Ray drinks away most of what Stella earns.”
“Can you blame him? I wouldn’t want to raise that many kids.”
“Well, where’s she working?”
“The Ramon Slaughterhouse. How’s that for a bit of irony?”
“Ray isn’t the only local who didn’t get paid. Did you know June saw Monty applying for a loan at her bank in Chalk Lake?”
“That’s not surprising. Bernice Fowler told me the landscaping business down the street from her is going under because they can’t pay for all those exotic plants Rusty ordered.”
“Ladies, those are just rumors. I happen to know Rusty’s ranch foreman, and he told me nothing’s amiss.”
“Ah, what does he know? He’s used to lying for his boss.”
“Have you seen his latest flame? She’d be long gone if there wasn’t something other than a few pennies left in the bank.”
“Oh, please! Her IQ is written on the bottoms of her shoes. I doubt she can do arithmetic.”
“Maybe not, but she knows her numbers and letters up to 38D.”
“You’re an idiot! Her last sugar daddy did the counting for her. And he paid for the new twins.”
“I wonder if he got his money's worth.”
“Vivian, shame on you! But just between us, how much do you think they cost?”
“Why? Are you getting a pair?’
“Don’t be ridiculous. Where would I put them?” They paused for a hearty round of laughter before continuing.
“Doreen, are you entering the cookoff?”
“No. I don’t want to travel around the country slapping beef on a grill for the next year.”
“I wonder how the grand prize winners feel at the end of their tour of duty?”
“Probably wondering why they entered and wishing someone else had won!”
“Hey, I have a question. Do you think some contestants are slipping pork into their recipes to keep the meat juicy?”
“Nah. That’s just a rumor started by last year’s loser.”
“I hate to burst your bubble, ladies, but Rusty’s girlfriend is his latest assistant. The busty blonde was just a fling!”
“Who cares?” Mercy shouted as she slowed for another stop. Phew! Thank goodness that was only a mental exclamation.
Sam and Casey rode her bus, and Mercy dropped them off at the motel and then picked them up a short time later. She didn’t have a chance to do more than nod at Casey as a group of kids jumped on behind them and Mercy kept her eye on their guardian. She just smiled when Ida Belle and Gertie rode again because by the end of the day the adults were pretty much blanks unless they had kids. One person wearing a bulky hoodie got on, and Mercy cringed, wondering if he was trying to lose weight. It made her hot just looking at him, and she was glad when he finally got off at the motel.
Time dragged, and Mercy was certain that if this particular version of hell ever came to an end, she’d just wander in circles, no longer able to walk straight. Sadly, she had to face another day of doing the same thing. But on the positive side, she’d get to spend time with Spence this evening. As long as that green-eyed snob wasn’t pasted to his side. Who was she, anyway? He told her he didn’t have a girlfriend, but the blonde seemed to think otherwise. So why was he letting her tag along like a dog—
“You missed a stop!”
She glanced into her mirror and halted the bus. “Sorry,” she said, reaching to open the door.
“Well, I’m not getting off now,” the rider said with a huff. “I’d have to walk back to the place where you were supposed to stop.”
Mercy gave the complainer a frigid smile and closed the door. Her blood pressure spiked when the woman with six children rapped on the glass and demanded Mercy let them on. She watched as the group boarded the bus and found seats, pleased to see two of the kids crowd into a seat with the complainer. He got off at the next stop and made a nasty comment to Mercy about it being her fault the bus was crowded. When the visibly uptight mom of six got off, Mercy hollered at her. The woman shouldered her large purse and threw her hands in the air.
“What now?”
“I saw what you did!” Mercy stated as the woman rubbed her temples. “You sat a small one behind the tall man on purpose, thinking I wouldn’t see him.” Wordlessly, the woman climbed the steps and collected the child she left behind. Before she closed the door, Mercy yelled, “Don’t think I won’t report this!” She drove on, mumbling under her breath, and she was glad her shift was almost done.
At five on the dot she pulled into the church parking lot and told the passengers she was finished for the day. And then it got ugly. Her eyes twitched, and her fingers pinched the steering wheel at the rude comments each person made as they got off. Finally, it was over! She moved the bus to the side of the parking lot and jumped off, grateful the church was allowing her to park it there overnight.
She would have preferred to change from her navy polo shirt, khaki shorts, and sneakers into something nicer, but it was already a quarter past five and she didn’t want Marlena hijacking the evening. She ran to the carnival, slowing when she saw Spencer waiting near the entrance to the rides.
“You could have gone home to shower and change first.”
It wasn’t the greeting she had hoped for. Mercy’s smile dimmed as she bent over and self-consciously examined her uniform. It was too late to fix her mistake, and she thumped her palm to her forehead. Then she straightened to see he now stood a few feet away.
“Personally, I think you look fine,” he added.
Her eyes narrowed. “Nice recovery.”
“I thought so.” He chuckled. “Come on, Minnie. Caramel corn awaits.”
Mercy snorted. “After I’ve had real food, you can buy me a treat.”
“Well, there goes my plans for a cheap date.” He took her arm and led her away from the carnival toward the multitude of booths lining the street.
“I’ll pay for supper,” she offered. “So what’s the best place to eat? How about chicken?” She nodded at a food service trailer and came to a halt when she spotted Marlena standing in the line for chicken. “Forget it. I don’t feel like eating chicken.”
“How about this?” He pointed to a booth serving vegan choices, and Mercy paused when she recognized a familiar face.
“That must be Mo and Jonah’s sister,” she said. The tall thin woman with long brown braided hair had the same blue eyes, wide smile, and freckles of her sisters. The resemblance ended there.
“That’s Minnow,” Spence said. “And the guy with her is her husband, Marc. They run the fitness center here in Sinful.”
“You’re kidding! I hope they’re independently wealthy because Sinful doesn’t seem like the kind of town to support a business like that,” Mercy stated.
“They do okay, believe it or not. Minnow is a very determined woman.”
“I can see that. Anyone running a vegan food booth in the middle of a meat festival must be tough. But I’m not wasting the opportunity to have grilled meat. Come on,” she urged. They finally settled on steak and onion sandwiches. Mercy debated the wisdom of eating onions, but since Spencer added green peppers to his she decided it was going to be a G-rated evening and ordered extra onions.
After eating, they checked out the merchant and game booths. Spence eyed her peevishly when she beat him at mini basketball and ring toss. “I never liked those games,” he muttered, and she snickered at his expression.
“How about the water balloon pistols?” she asked hopefully.
“Uh, uh. Time for the carnival,” he insisted.
“Cheapskate,” she mocked lightly.
“Ego abuser.”
“We can try the duck pond for children,” she offered. “You can’t lose there.” Three minutes later she giggled while he glared at the sticker he won, comparing it to her gold-colored plastic tiara.
“What can I say? I have the touch,” she boasted before passing her prize to a little girl with big eyes. She took his elbow. “Now let’s go to the carnival rides.”
For the next half hour they walked arm in arm with caramel corn through the area with rides and sideshows. Spencer stopped and stared thoughtfully at a banner showing a bearded lady with thick dark hair. “Go stand next to the picture,” he suggested.
“Only if you do the same,” she said with a smirk, pointing. His eyes narrowed at the next poster. It advertised ‘Char-Lee’ who was half male and half female, with a vertical split.
“That’s gonna be hard for Char-Lee to prove.” Spence snorted in disgust, and Mercy choked with laughter.
“Come on,” she insisted. “I can’t turn this down.” Over his objections, she bought two tickets and hauled him into the freak show.
When it was over, he stumbled out complaining, “That was not a treat, Mercy!”
“Well, I think the shemale proved its point.”
He shook his head as though disappointed. “The reason these stupid shows are still in business is because of suckers like you. Seeing the male half of a chest doesn’t prove the female half was real under that garment.”
“Yeah, but you can’t prove it wasn’t,” she taunted. Then she grabbed his arm. “Hey, I think Char-Lee rode the bus today. I bet that’s why he was wearing a hoodie—so no one could tell if it’s real.” She paused for a minute and then said, “Well, I dare you.”
His eyes narrowed. “Dare me to what?”
“See if he has a hoot.”
“A hoot?” He looked puzzled, and she nodded.
“Half a set of hooters is a hoot,” she explained.
He laughed. “And you want me to find out if it’s real? Pinching a man’s chest is wrong on so many levels, I don’t even know where to start.”
Mercy stopped with her hands on her hips. “Are you nuts? Pinching will get you arrested. I meant just take a look into his dressing room.”
“And that won’t get me tossed? Nope. It’s still wrong, Merc. Why don’t you do it?” he asked.
“I don’t want to know if it’s real!” she exclaimed. “Besides, you’re the nonbeliever, not me.”
“Well, praise the Lord! I just converted,” he responded, dragging her from the hideous exhibit. He pointed to another attraction. “How about that? It looks fun, doesn’t it?”
Mercy stopped in horror and hoped he was joking. “The House of Mirrors?” she asked in a weak voice. “Maybe tomorrow.”
“Are you afraid of getting lost?” he joked.
“Nope. I know I’ll get lost,” she replied. “When I was twelve I got stuck in one at the fair for almost three hours. They had to dismantle part of it to find me and I promised my parents I’d never go in one again.”
“I don’t see your folks anywhere,” he said. “How will they know unless you tell them?”
“That’s beside the point. I’ll still get lost,” she said with a firm headshake. “No.”
“Are you sure?” He dropped an arm across her shoulders and leaned down to speak into her ear. “It might be kind of fun getting lost in there with you.”
Mercy’s eyes got big, and she chewed her lip, tempted by his offer. Still—her eyes slid to the wall of mirrors. It didn’t seem so intimidating right now. “Will you hold my hand so we don’t get separated?” she asked.
He responded by taking it in his warm grip and walking her to the ticket booth to pay for their entry. “All set for some fun?” he asked giving her a wicked look that made her heart flutter. She nodded and let him pull her through the marked entry door where she bumped into a mirror.
“Dumb thing.” She turned and ran into another. “Bloody so-and-so.” After a third, she spat, “Bastard.”
“That kind of talk will get you thrown out if you continue,” he warned before leading her into the maze.
“Why didn’t I know that when I was twelve?” she asked. But Mercy soon forgot about his unspoken promise of fun and prayed he knew what he was doing. They met a young couple moving the opposite direction, and she had to release his hand to make room for them to pass. After the man and woman scooted by, she turned to Spencer. “Whew! There you are. I was afraid you’d abandoned me.” She released her breath and grabbed his hand. Her fist bounced off the mirror, and she whirled to face him, panic rising in her chest. “Hold out your hand,” she requested. He did so, and she connected with a mirror again. “Where are you?” Her voice rose to a high pitch, revealing her fright.
“Calm down. Just take a step to the right,” he told her. She nodded and did so, banging against the solid surface. “Try left.” The result was worse because now when she looked at him, he was cut in half.
“You look like the shemale,” she joked, trying to stay positive but sounding miserable. “I only see half of you.”
“Stay put, and I’ll come to you,” he suggested.
“Okay.” Mercy closed her eyes and waited for him to take her hand. She heard the sounds of the carnival outside, but no reassuring voice. Her eyes opened. He was gone! “Where are you?” she screamed.
“Ha, ha! Lady, you’re funny, but you can’t scare us.” A couple of preteen girls slipped around her. “Only babies get lost in these things.”
Mercy tried following them but got turned around when she accidentally planted her face against a mirror. “Spencer?” she called, feeling calmer since her encounter with the young girls. If they could navigate the system, so could she. And it appeared she’d have to since Spence didn’t reply.
Twenty minutes later her reflection splintered into dozens of unflattering images, revealing her red cheeks and sweaty face. Well, she should have listened to her parents and never came in! She hadn’t crossed paths with another person or even seen a reflection, other than her own. Her hand trembled when she wiped her forehead and let her back slide down one of the mirrors until she was sitting. Perhaps if she waited long enough either someone would come by or Spencer would tell the operator she was lost. Five minutes became ten, and she was still by herself, abandoned and lost in her greatest nightmare. She’d never forgive Spencer! Certain she would die in the house of horrors, Mercy began blindly crawling.
“Ma’am? What’s wrong?”
She opened her eyes to see the ticket taker watching her as she crawled out the doorway while everyone nearby moved closer to gawk. She got to her feet and scrubbed the tears from her face with her fists. “Allergies,” she lied. “I couldn’t even see where I was going.”
“Oh. Well, your friend seemed to think you were lost,” the ticket taker said.
Mercy stiffened at his comment. Her friend? Would a friend leave her for over a half hour in a place of torment? She ignored the man and tried to slip into the crowd.
“Mercy! Where are you?” Spencer bellowed, causing her to cringe when the crowd parted. He looked worried as he rushed toward her, holding a paper. “I had to get the layout from the guy who was on break, but first I had to track him down—what’s wrong? You look like hell.”
A few drops of rain made the others look up while she glared at Spencer for the added insult. Then to cap off a perfectly abysmal experience, the beautiful little blonde slid through the crowd and demanded his attention. Not that Mercy could blame him. Marlena’s crisp white blouse was pristine, her faded denim shorts didn’t look like she had even sat in them, and her sandal-clad feet were squeaky clean. Even her toenail polish was perfect and unchipped.
Mercy looked down at her own sweat-soaked, grimy clothes. And it wasn’t just her clothes that were unsightly. Her hands and legs were filthy from her crawl of desperation and she didn’t even want to know what her face looked like. It had been bad in the hazy maze mirrors. Clear reality had to be much worse. When the blonde pulled Spencer’s head down to whisper in his ear, Mercy ducked her head and elbowed her way through the crowd to avoid seeing any more.
As she neared the carnival exit, the sprinkles turned into a gushing downpour and she was nearly knocked down as people fled, seeking protection. She snorted. I bet they wouldn’t complain about the bus now. The bus! Were the windows closed? Of course it wouldn’t be a bad thing if the seats got washed, but it might soak into the cracked vinyl and she’d have to listen to riders gripe about that all day tomorrow. No, she’d better go check even though the sky looked like it might let up.
Her feet pounded on the sidewalk and when she reached the church parking lot, she saw a couple windows were lowered, so she pulled out her keys to unlock the door. Huh. The door didn’t respond, so she turned the key again. This time she was able to rotate the door handle and open it. Since it was dark on the bus, she turned on her cellphone flashlight and began shutting windows closest to the front. She gave herself a mental head slap, knowing she hadn’t locked the bus in her hurry to meet Spencer. “Let this be a lesson, Mercy. Thank goodness there isn’t enough here to tempt vandals!”
She moved across the aisle and closed another window, still talking aloud to herself. “You might as well have gone back to the motel for a shower because the whole evening wound up in the crapper.”
She stepped over to the other side, one row back. “And now? You won’t even be able to get a good night’s sleep. When you do manage to drop off, you’ll have nightmares of that stupid mirror trap that Spencer tricked you into entering.”
The next window crashed when she shoved it so hard the latches didn’t catch before it slipped from her grasp. She shook her bruised fingertips and tried it again. Then she grabbed her flashlight and aimed it toward the back of the bus and dropped it with a gasp of shock. “You’re hallucinating, Mercy,” she said firmly. After crawling under the seat to get her phone, she took a deep breath, then flashed it to the back again. Her breath whooshed out.
“Mr. Ramon! You scared me to death. Why are you still on the bus? Are you ill?” She hoped the bus company didn’t have a policy about checking to make sure it was empty every evening. After all, it wasn’t like she was driving a school bus where children might fall asleep, right? But still—he must have been riding all afternoon. She moved to the back of the bus and shook him by the shoulder. “Mr. Ramon?”
Mercy screamed when he tipped sideways and fell off the seat, knocking her down. Her cellphone flipped into the air, clattering when it hit the floor. She wiggled, but her legs were trapped beneath his body and she screeched, using all her strength to get loose. When her legs were free, she jumped to her feet and ran for the door.
“What’s going on? What happened?”
Mercy nearly knocked Spencer over as she ran down the steps, still screaming. She was halfway across the parking lot when he caught up with her. “What’s wrong?” he shouted. Her eyes were enormous in the faint flashes of lightning that zipped through the sky.
“He’s dead!”
“Who’s dead?” She just pointed to the bus as he pulled her back by the wrist. “I think someone’s playing a joke on you. Let’s take another look.” Mercy refused and waited outside while Spence entered to examine the scene.
“Well?” she asked after he’d been onboard for a minute. She was no longer concerned if the seats got wet or even upset about the disastrous date because there was a dead man on her bus and maybe she was responsible. What if he’d been too weak to get up? Had he suffered heat stroke because she left him there? Would a jury take into account that the windows were cracked?
He poked his head out the door and confirmed her fears. “He’s dead all right.”
“What do you think happened? Was it the heat?”
He shook his head gravely. “He was murdered. I think he’s been stabbed, but there’s a lot of blood, so I’m not sure.” His flashlight swept her way, and he aimed it at her lower legs.
Mercy looked down to see her legs were smeared with a sticky substance, but it wasn’t the bright orange color of rib sauce. It was red with pink rivulets running from the splotches of blood. She plunked down on the bus steps and waited for the real carnival to begin.