Discuss the history of the hospitality industry, characteristics and Essay

Discuss the history of the hospitality industry, characteristics and importance of the hospitality industry - Essay Example From the origin and development of hospitality industry, it can be gathered that the industry has unique and distinctive characteristics. First the industry is to balance between services and products delivered. Communication is also essential between the hospitality staff and clients, another feature in the industry is the fact that there is diversity in culture, which may result to some problems differences (Walker 2007). There are also various importance of hospitality industry to the economy of a given region such as offering employment to the local residents. Since hospitality is related to tourism there is conservation of culture and heritage. Hospitality industry also enhances the development of auxiliary services such as transport, insurance and banking facilities. Tourism and hospitality in Bournemouth is growing tremendously, and it is projected that thousands of jobs will be developed faster as compared to industries such as manufacturing, retail or construction. Due to ho spitality and tourism industry, Bournemouth is the second destination for studying languages after the Great Britain. It can therefore be concluded that there is a lot of economic impact that has resulted from hospitality industry in

Social development Essay Example for Free

Social development Essay Inclusion is viewed as a social development connected to a history of social policy reform in the United States beginning in the mid-1950s. Inclusion involves the processes of increasing the participation of students in, and reducing their exclusion from, mainstream curricula, cultures and communities. There has been a vigorous, ongoing academic debate between those who support and those who oppose the inclusion of special education students in general education classes. Much of this debate has taken the form of argument about the appropriateness of instructing special education students in classrooms with their general education peers or in separate, exclusionary spaces. When special education students are included in general education classrooms, they are expected to adhere to a modified version of the standard curriculum and are graded according to alternative standards. This work considers inclusion in the classrooms of Longview Public Schools. An overview of the national and local contexts for inclusion is presented, and then a high school theater arts class is portrayed from data collected over a fifteen-week period. The work concludes with a synthesis of the issues raised by the case-study and their implications for continued progress toward the goal of inclusion in American society and its impact on special needs students. Literature Review The idea of inclusive education was given impetus by two conferences set up under the auspices of the United Nations. The first of these, held in Jomtien, Thailand in 1990, promoted the idea of education for all; this was followed in 1994 by a UNESCO conference in Salamanca, Spain, which led to a Statement that is being used in many countries to review their education policies. The Salamanca Statement proposes that the development of schools with an inclusive orientation is the most effective means of improving the efficiency and ultimately the cost-effectiveness of the entire education system. The International Journal of Inclusive Education, established in 1997, encourages the same broad conception of inclusive education as ourselves, involving an examination of all the processes of inclusion and exclusion in education. Among those who anticipated the failure of mainstreaming during the 1980s, many challenged the institutional practice of special education, calling for widespread reform (see Reynolds, Wang, and Walberg 1987; Sarason and Doris 1982; Skrtic 1986; Will 1986). The radical restructuring of special education urged by Skrtic (1986) has yet to occur, although some states have attempted special education reform, often in concert with general education reform (Ferguson 1995; Thousand and Villa 1995). However, so-called â€Å"systemic reform† of special education is far from the norm in the United States (Roach 1995). Skrtics (1995) theoretical analysis of the field of special education aims for excellence, equity, and adhocracy through a deconstruction and reconstruction of both general and special education for a post-industrial economy in the twenty-first century. He maintains that an alternative paradigm, that of critical pragmatism, is necessary to reconstruct special education and disability. Without it, the current inclusion debate will not â€Å"resolve the special education problems of the twentieth century†¦ [but] will simply reproduce them in the twenty-first century† (p. 80). He argues that critical pragmatism enables individuals to continually evaluate and reappraise the â€Å"political consequences of a professions knowledge, practices, and discourses by critically assessing them and the assumptions, theories, and metatheories in which they are grounded† (p. 91). The authors of the book From Them to Us: An International Study of Inclusion in Education (Ainscow Booth 1998) used the terms special educational needs or just special needs to categorize pupils with learning difficulties, physical impairments and behaviour disorders. Such terminology implies that there is a division to be drawn between â€Å"normal† and â€Å"less than normal† learners. It implies exclusion, as pointed out by Booth (1995, p. 99). The term integration is still in use among teachers although officially, at least, it has been replaced. When referring to integration, teachers mean the presence in ordinary schools of those children who used to be transferred to special schools or special classes. One of the writers on normalization (Solum 1991) has tried to replace integration with the term anti-segregation. This has a more positive connotation in that it takes for granted that nobody is segregated at the beginning and, therefore, the challenge is to see that everybody remains within the regular school. For many involved in the current debate on inclusion, it is evident that the questions raised by Sarason and Doris over a decade ago remain unanswered, diluted by concerns that locate this endeavor within an educational rather than a societal discourse. The current literature on inclusion in the United States documents the way the practical realities related to inclusion continue to obscure the â€Å"charity† needed to frame the moral issue (Zigmond et al. 1995). This literature, in combination with the concerns of Sarason and Doris and the warnings issued by Skrtic, challenge the success of inclusion. And yet, at this particular moment schools continue to grapple with inclusion: an ill-defined, and yet, ever-increasingly accepted and widely practiced reform.

Stimulus measures policy forms

Stimulus measures policy forms Part 1. Some reject stimulus measures in all current policy forms. These economists focus on the damaging activities and decisions of (a) private corporations, (b) commercial banks, and (c) wealthy individuals. How can these three groups that lead our private market system, each in their own way, frustrate and foil the goals of a fiscal stimulus program. The 2009 Stimulus packages that President Obama released were done so with the intentions of trying to fix the recession bound economy. But the question that surfaced was what the long term results of this stimulus package were. Is it more beneficial or more harmful to our already down falling economy? A fiscal stimulus package by the government consists of generally three options either the use of tax cuts, increased transfers or increased government spending. All three options have one problem in common; it will cause the government budget to increase. It can only serve as a temporary boost to the economy, because the government has to find a way to fund this package. When the government needs to spend money that they didnt revenue from taxes it is called a budget deficit, they would need to borrow and most likely from foreign reserve banks or through the selling of bonds. In Keyness economic vision â€Å"the goal of macro policy is not to balance the budget but to balance the economy at full employment.† This does logically make sense because a low availability of jobs would mean an increase of transfer payments including unemployment compensation and welfare benefits. But if new jobs can be created it will decrease the burden of transfer payments and increase tax revenue. An increase of jobs would equal more taxes to collect and less economic problems when unemployment rates are lower. But since the recession and fiscal policy both are signs that suggest, the economic state is not currently at its best for investments. Private corporations are less eager to invest being that from a business perspective their initial intent is to make profit. Without the confidences in future profit rates theres less of an obligation to want to take the risk. I believe that from any business stand point, private corporations are interested in how much profits they can make and maybe secondarily how many jobs a new project or investment can create. Commercial banks on the other hand could result in a â€Å"crowding out effect because the increase in government borrowing will cause a decrease in private sector borrowing†. Crowding out means that theres less progression which is also an â€Å"opportunity cost for government spending†. When the government is shut out of all other options, borrowing money to finance the budget deficits can cause an increase in interest rates. Theres only a certain about of money available for borrowing and if the government borrows, less money is available for business investments. Wealthy individuals would tend to save more and spend less. They may also invest in foreign counties that stand at a better economy. Therefore private corporations, commercial banks, and wealthy individuals are three power groups that hold the foundation of our private market system. They have the general ability to effect consumption rates because of investments. Its a circular flow effect, less jobs cause less overall GDP consumption and less taxes, less confidence in economy, which causes less investment. After all Keynes did say that â€Å"the goal of macro policy is not to balance the budget but to balance the economy at full employment. The main problem here is that there are not enough jobs to boast the economy in the long run. The American dream is to do better than the past generation. Its hard to reach that when jobs arent available and a recession at hand. Part 2. Given our currently high unemployment rate and low inflation rate, argue for or against a Supply-Side policy focus versus a Demand-Side policy emphasis. Aggregate demand or aggregate supply whats a better a choice when you have high unemployment and low inflation rates? I believe that the demand curve is only going to be a temporary answer to the economic problem. â€Å"The demand curve will shift in response to changes in income, changes in expectations (consumer confidence), changes in wealth, changes in credit conditions or changes in tax policy.† The whole purpose of aggregate demand is to stimulate consumer spending. If unemployment is high its unlikely that this will solve the problem. How do you tell someone who is unemployed to buy more? In contrary I think the aggregate supply is a better policy choice to get the economy back and running. â€Å"The policy options to shift AS rightward include: Tax incentives for saving, investment and work, human capital investment, deregulation, trade liberalization and infrastructure development.† This works better because the tax cuts will increase consumption being that it would result in a higher level of disposable income. This means that people would be more motivated to work. Lets just say Person A makes $40,000 a year and taxes used to 10% and now they are down to 5%, this means that instead of paying $4000 in taxes it would just be $2000. Person A is able to work the same amount and have $2000 extra for disposable income. This guarantees that (C+G+I+(x-m) = GPD) GDP will go up if consumption goes up. Human capital investment is a long term effect; people find it worth their benefit to invest in school and training. Our goal is to find a way to both lower unemployment and lower the inflation rates. To do this we have to focus on the supply side or the production part of the market. By producing more (new technology) it would set the platform so that better prices levels are available. The technology is going to be useful for production for a while and the investments in education will increase the standards of living. This means that cheaper goods equal more consumption. Its a long term answer to the economy because the overall GDP will grow. The economy will grow and the production of output rises while unemployment and inflation falls. If all these aspects are intact theres no way that the next generation couldnt do better. I believe that a lot of the economic problems we face today are because of the actions that the government made without thinking of the long term effects. If we want our country to become stronger and stronger we have to think in long term strategies and I believe that the Aggregate Supply Policy is the right one. Part 3. Upon completing ECO 100, you have been hired by the Obama administration to advise them on Foreign Exchange Policy. Their concern is that low interest rates and a large trade deficit have led to a depreciating dollar. Accordingly, first prepare an overview of the way such rates and trade conditions can threaten our currency value. Then secondly, advise the President whether (or not) steps should be taken to strengthen the dollar in foreign exchange markets. What makes euros worth more than dollars and Chinese Yuan to be below both? The answer is that the currency market determines what the exchange rates are worth. The Foreign exchange market is just like the all markets where theres a demand theres a supply. But if there is a more demand than supply then the exchange rate would go up. Meaning if there was a higher demand for U.S dollars; dollar value would increase also known as appreciation. But in this example if there was an excess amount of U.S currency that is above the demand needed then our dollar value fall also known as deprecation. But the rule is that where theres a lost there is always a gain. Meaning if one countrys currency value goes up some other countrys money value has to go down. If the value of the U.S dollars improves in the Foreign Exchange Market then it would increase the overall supply of dollars. If our country has a trade deficit, meaning we import more and export less, we should find a method that attracts more exports. I think that the best approach to take would be to weaken the dollar. But in order for that to happen there had to be a way to alter the supply of U.S currency. In one perspective its a good thing if our dollars are more valuable we would be able to buy more foreign goods with the same dollar. But if theres too much of a supply of dollars the dollar may lose value. â€Å"As dollars become cheaper, American exports effectively fall in price and demand rises.† In order to reduce the amount of our trade deficit we could export more goods. If our dollar rates were low enough to attract foreigners to buy our good and cooperation would still make their profits then it would all work out. A weaken dollar would work until we could clo se the gap of our trade deficit and after that we would create a strategy that will strengthen the dollar by lowering the supply of it.

The Affirmative Action Debate Essay example -- affirmative action argu

The Affirmative Action Debate    Most Americans desire a colorblind society. A society where individuals are judged upon merit, as opposed to the color of their skin. That is the reason Affirmative Action was birthed by Lyndon B. Johnson in 1964. That is also the reason that Proposition 209 was voted for in 1996.   These two historical events are driven by the desire of equality.   Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚   What is Affirmative Action?   According to Geraldine Leshin, it is "Taking positive or active steps to accomplish the public policy goal of equal employment opportunity."  Ã‚   What is Proposition 209?   Its a new law that has been passed that "prohibits the state of California and local governments from discriminating against or granting preferential treatment to any individual or group on the basis of race,   sex, color, ethnicity or national origin in public employment, public education or public contracting (San Jose Mercury News)."   Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚   Affirmative action was implemented for important reasons.   "Broadly defined, affirmative action refers to efforts to increase educational and employment opportunities for minorities and women.   More specifically, it applies to various programs and policies designed to increase the number of minorities and women hired by government and industry and admitted into colleges and universities."(Faundez, 213)   Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚   Affirmative action is important especially in the work force. Before affirmative action, minorities and women felt, and seemed to be, discriminated against being chosen for the job.   Affirmative action was to help with the "increasing of opportunities for those that were previously discriminated against"(Lemann, 145).   Affirmative action   was created to not only help Black-Amer... ....    Leshin, Geraldine (1979).   Equal Employment Opportunity an Affirmative Action in Labor-Management Relations A PRIMER.   Institute of Industrial Relations:   Los Angeles, Tab H.    Mendoza, Ryan (1996).   Affirmative Action remains the American compromise. The Yale Daily News, Internet.   Available: http://www.townhall.com/columnists.duplantier/dul112195.html (1996, October 4).    Mills, Nicolaus, ed.   Debating Affirmative Action:   Race, Gender, Ethnicity, and the Politics of Inclusion.   New York:   Delta trade Paper-backs, 1994.    Proposition 209 and Affirmative Action (1996).  Ã‚   San Jose Mercury News. Available: http://www.sjercruy.com/news/breaknws.htm    Rockwell, Paul (1996).   Angry White Guys For Affirmative Action. Available:   http://www.dnai.com/~awgfaa/html/angry.html (1996, October 4).

Health Care Ethics

The Bartling case was about whether William Bartling had the right, over the objection of his physicians and the hospital, to have life-support equipment disconnected despite the fact that withdrawal of such devices will surely hasten his death. When he entered Glendale Adventist Hospital in California in 1984, he was known to be suffering from emphysema and diffuse arteriosclerosis, coronary arteriosclerosis, abdominal aneurysm, and inoperable lung cancer.At the end, He had to use mechanical respiratory and chest tube to assist his breathing in the ICU. Although each of these conditions could individually be lethal, he was not diagnosed as terminally ill. At first, Mr. Bartling asked his physicians to remove the ventilator but they refused. Then Mr. Bartling attempted to remove the ventilator tubes but was unsuccessful. Eventually, to prevent his attempt, he was placed in restraints so that the tubes could remain in place. The case was taken to Los Angeles Superior Court by Mr. Scot t.Because he was not considered terminally ill, the court refused either to allow the respirator to be disconnected or to order that Mr. Bartling’s hands be freed. At the second time, the case was taken to the California Court of Appeal. However, the result was that Mr. Bartling had the right to make his own decision, which was obviously different with the first time. So I think the main issue in this case is about patient’s decision-making capacity, specifically, when patient is able to make make the decision of his own medical treatments.

A Dirty Job Chapter 12

12 THE BAY CITY BOOK OF THE DEAD Charlie named the hamsters Parmesan and Romano (or Parm and Romy, for short) because when the time came for thinking up names, he just happened to be reading the label on a jar of Alfredo sauce. That was all the thought that went into it and that was enough. In fact, Charlie thought he might have even gone overboard, considering that when he returned home the day of the great firecracker/sewer debacle, he found his daughter gleefully pounding away on the tray of her high chair with a stiff hamster. Romano was the poundee, Charlie could tell because he'd put a dot of nail polish between his little ears so he could tell it apart from its companion, Parmesan, who was equally stiff inside the plastic Habitrail box. In the bottom of the exercise wheel, actually. Dead at the wheel. â€Å"Mrs. Ling!† Charlie called. He pried the expired rodent from his darling daughter's little hand and dropped it in the cage. â€Å"Is Vladlena, Mr. Asher,† came a giant voice from the bathroom. There was a flush and Mrs. Korjev emerged from the bathroom pulling at the clasps of her overalls. â€Å"I'm sorry, I am having to crap like bear. Sophie was safe in chair.† â€Å"She was playing with a dead hamster, Mrs. Korjev.† Mrs. Korjev looked at the two hamsters in the plastic Habitrail box – gave it a little tap, shook it back and forth. â€Å"They sleep.† â€Å"They are not sleeping, they're dead.† â€Å"They are fine when I go in bathroom. Playing, running on wheel, having laugh.† â€Å"They were not having a laugh. They were dead. Sophie had one in her hand.† Charlie looked more closely at the rodent that Sophie had been tenderizing. Its head looked extremely wet. â€Å"In her mouth. She had it in her mouth.† He grabbed a paper towel from the roll on the counter and started wiping out the inside of Sophie's mouth. She made a la-la-la sound as she tried to eat the towel, which she thought was part of the game. â€Å"Where is Mrs. Ling, anyway?† â€Å"She have to go pick up prescription, so I watch Sophie for short time. And tiny bears are happy when I go in bathroom.† â€Å"Hamsters, Mrs. Korjev, not bears. How long were you in there?† â€Å"Maybe five minute. I am thinking I am now having a strain in my poop chute, so hard I am pushing.† â€Å"Aiiiiieeeee,† came the cry from the doorway as Mrs. Ling returned, and scampered to Sophie. â€Å"Is past time for nap,† Mrs. Ling snapped at Mrs. Korjev. â€Å"I've got her now,† Charlie said. â€Å"One of you stay with her while I get rid of the H-A-M-S-T-E-R-S.† â€Å"He mean the tiny bears,† said Mrs. Korjev. â€Å"I get rid, Mr. Asher,† said Mrs. Ling. â€Å"No problem. What happen them?† â€Å"Sleeping,† said Mrs. Korjev. â€Å"Ladies, go. Please. I'll see one of you in the morning.† â€Å"Is my turn,† said Mrs. Korjev sadly. â€Å"Am I banish? Is no Sophie for Vladlena, yes?† â€Å"No. Uh, yes. It's fine, Mrs. Korjev. I'll see you in the morning.† Mrs. Ling was shaking the Habitrail cage. They certainly were sound little sleepers, these hamsters. She liked ham. â€Å"I take care,† she said. She tucked the cage under her arm and backed toward the door, waving. â€Å"Bye-bye, Sophie. Bye-bye.† â€Å"Bye-bye, bubeleh,† said Mrs. Korjev. â€Å"Bye-bye,† Sophie said, with a baby wave. â€Å"When did you learn bye-bye?† Charlie said to his daughter. â€Å"I can't leave you for a second.† But he did leave her the very next day, to find replacements for the hamsters. He took the cargo van to the pet store this time. Whatever courage or hubris he'd rallied in order to attack the sewer harpies had melted away, and he didn't even want to go near a storm drain. At the pet store he picked out two painted turtles, each about as big around as a mayonnaise-jar lid. He bought them a large kidney-shaped dish that had its own little island, a plastic palm tree, some aquatic plants, and a snail. The snail, presumably, to bolster the self-esteem of the turtles: â€Å"You think we're slow? Look at that guy.† To shore up the snail's morale in the same way, there was a rock. Everyone is happier if they have someone to look down on, as well as someone to look up to, especially if they resent both. This is not only the Beta Male strategy for survival, but the basis for capitalism, democracy, and most religions. After he grilled the clerk for fifteen minutes on the vitality of the turtles, and was assured that they could probably survive a nuclear attack as long as there were some bugs left to eat, Charlie wrote a check and started tearing up over his turtles. â€Å"Are you okay, Mr. Asher?† asked the pet-shop guy. â€Å"I'm sorry,† Charlie said. â€Å"It's just that this is the last entry in the register.† â€Å"And your bank didn't give you a new one?† â€Å"No, I have a new one, but this is the last one that my wife wrote in. Now that this one is used up, I'll never see her handwriting in the check register again.† â€Å"I'm sorry,† said the pet-shop guy, who, until that moment, had thought the rough patch that day was going to be consoling a guy over a couple of dead hamsters. â€Å"It's not your problem,† Charlie said. â€Å"I'll just take my turtles and go.† And he did, squeezing the check register in his hand as he drove. She was slipping away, every day a little more. A week ago Jane had come down to borrow some honey and found the plum jelly that Rachel liked in the back of the refrigerator, covered in green fuzz. â€Å"Little brother, this has got to go,† Jane said, making a face. â€Å"No. It was Rachel's.† â€Å"I know, kid, and she's not coming back for it. What else do you – oh my God!† She dove away from the fridge. â€Å"What was that?† â€Å"Lasagna. Rachel made it.† â€Å"This has been in here for over a year?† â€Å"I couldn't make myself throw it out.† â€Å"Look, I'm coming over Saturday and cleaning out this apartment. I'm going to get rid of all the stuff of Rachel's that you don't want.† â€Å"I want it all.† Jane paused while moving the green-and-purple lasagna to the trash bin, pan and all. â€Å"No you don't, Charlie. This kind of stuff doesn't help you remember Rachel, it just hurts you. You need to focus on Sophie and the rest of both of your lives. You're a young guy, you can't give up. We all loved Rachel, but you have to think about moving on, maybe going out.† â€Å"I'm not ready. And you can't come over this Saturday, that's my day in the shop.† â€Å"I know,† Jane said. â€Å"It's better if you're not here.† â€Å"But you can't be trusted, Jane,† Charlie said, as if that was as obvious as the fact that Jane was irritating. â€Å"You'll throw out all the pieces of Rachel, and you'll steal my clothes.† Jane had been swiping Charlie's suits pretty regularly since he'd started dressing more upscale. She was wearing a tailored, double-breasted jacket that he'd just gotten back from Three Fingered Hu a few days ago. Charlie hadn't even worn it yet. â€Å"Why are you still wearing suits, anyway? Isn't your new girlfriend a yoga instructor? Shouldn't you be wearing those baggy pants made out of hemp and tofu fibers like she does? You look like David Bowie, Jane. There, I've said it. I'm sorry, but it had to be said.† Jane put her arm around his shoulder and kissed him on the cheek. â€Å"You are so sweet. Bowie is the only man I've ever found attractive. Let me clean out your apartment. I'll watch Sophie that day – give the widows a day to do battle down at the Everything for a Dollar Store.† â€Å"Okay, but just clothes and stuff, no pictures. And just put it in the basement in boxes, no throwing anything away.† â€Å"Even food items? Chuck, the lasagna, I mean – â€Å" â€Å"Okay, food items can go. But don't let Sophie know what you're doing. And leave Rachel's perfume, and her hairbrush. I want Sophie to know what her mother smelled like.† That night, when he finished at the shop, he went down to the basement to the little gated storage area for his apartment and visited the boxes of all of the things that Jane had packed up. When that didn't work, he opened them and said good-bye to every single item – pieces of Rachel. Seemed like he was always saying good-bye to pieces of Rachel. On his way home from the pet shop he had stopped at A Clean, Well-Lighted Place for Books because it, too, was a piece of Rachel and he needed a touchstone, but also because he needed to research what he was doing. He'd scoured the Internet for information on death, and while he'd found that there were a lot of people who wanted to dress like death, get naked with the dead, look at pictures of the naked and the dead, or sell pills to give erections to the dead, there just wasn't anything on how to go about being dead, or Death. No one had ever heard of Death Merchants or sewer harpies or anything of the sort. He left the store with a two-foot-high stack of books on Death and Dying, figuring, as a Beta Male typically does, that before he tried to take the battle to the enemy again, he'd better find out something about what he was dealing with. That evening he settled in on the couch next to his baby daughter and read while the new turtles, Bruiser and Jeep (so named in hope of instilling durability in them), ate freeze-dried bugs and watched CSI Safari-land on cable. â€Å"Well, honey, according to this Kbler-Ross lady, the five stages of death are anger, denial, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. Well, we went through all of those stages when we lost Mommy, didn't we?† â€Å"Mama,† Sophie said. The first time she had said â€Å"Mama† had brought Charlie to tears. He had been looking over her little shoulder at a picture of Rachel. The second time she said it, it was less emotional. She was in her high chair at the breakfast bar and was talking to the toaster. â€Å"That's not Mommy, Soph, that's the toaster.† â€Å"Mama,† Sophie insisted, reaching out for the toaster. â€Å"You're just trying to fuck with me, aren't you?† Charlie said. â€Å"Mama,† Sophie said to the fridge. â€Å"Swell,† Charlie said. He read on, realizing that Dr. Kbler-Ross had been exactly right. Every morning when he woke up to find another name and number in the day planner at his bedside, he went through the entire five-step process before he finished breakfast. But now that the steps had a name – he started to recognize the stages as experienced by the family members of his clients. That's how he referred to the people whose souls he retrieved: clients. Then he read a book, called The Last Sack, about how to kill yourself with a plastic bag, but it must not have been a very effective book, because he saw on the back cover that there had been two sequels. He imagined the fan mail: Dear Last Sack Author: I was almost dead, but then my sack got all steamed up and I couldn't see the TV, so I poked an eyehole. I hope to try again with your next book. The book really didn't help Charlie much, except to instill in him a new paranoia about plastic bags. Over the next few months he read: The Egyptian Book of the Dead, from which he learned how to pull someone's brain out through his nostril with a buttonhook, which he was sure would come in handy someday; a dozen books on dealing with death, grief, burial rituals, and myths of the Underworld, from which he learned that there had been personifications of Death since the dawn of time, and none of them looked like him; and the Tibetan Book of the Dead, from which he learned that bardo, the transition between this life and the next, was forty-nine days long, and that during the process you would be met by about thirty thousand demons, all of which were described in intricate detail, none of which looked like the sewer harpies, and all of which you were supposed to ignore and not be afraid of because they weren't real because they were of the material world. â€Å"Strange,† Charlie said to Sophie, â€Å"how all of these books talk about how the material world isn't significant, yet I have to retrieve people's souls, which are attached to material objects. It would appear that death, if nothing else, is ironic, don't you think?† â€Å"No,† Sophie said. At eighteen months Sophie answered all questions either â€Å"No,† â€Å"Cookie,† or â€Å"like Bear† – the last Charlie attributed to leaving his daughter too often in the care of Mrs. Korjev. After the turtles, two more hamsters, a hermit crab, an iguana, and two widemouthed frogs passed on to the great wok in the sky (or, more accurately, on the third floor), Charlie finally acquiesced and brought home a three-inch-long Madagascar hissing cockroach that he named Bear, just so his daughter wouldn't go through life talking total nonsense. â€Å"Like Bear,† Sophie said. â€Å"She's talking about the bug,† Charlie said, one night when Jane stopped by. â€Å"She's not talking about the bug,† Jane said. â€Å"What kind of father buys a cockroach for a little girl anyway? That's disgusting.† â€Å"Nothing's supposed to be able to kill them. They've been around for like a hundred million years. It was that or a white shark, and they're supposed to be hard to keep.† â€Å"Why don't you give up, Charlie? Just let her get by with stuffed animals.† â€Å"A little kid should have a pet. Especially a little kid growing up in the city.† â€Å"We grew up in the city and we didn't have any pets.† â€Å"I know, and look how we turned out,† Charlie said, gesturing back and forth between the two of them, one who dealt in death and had a giant cockroach named Bear, and the other who was on her third yoga-instructor girlfriend in six months and was wearing his newest Harris tweed suit. â€Å"We turned out great, or at least one of us did,† Jane said, gesturing to the splendor of her suit, like she was a game-show model giving the big prize package on Let's Get Androgynous, â€Å"You have got to gain some weight. This is tailored way too tight in the butt,† she said, lapsing once again into self-obsession. â€Å"Am I camel-toeing?† â€Å"I am not looking, not looking, not looking,† Charlie chanted. â€Å"She wouldn't need pets if she ever saw the outside of this apartment,† Jane said, pulling down on the crotch of her trousers to counteract the dreaded dromedary-digit effect. â€Å"Take her to the zoo, Charlie. Let her see something besides this apartment. Take her out.† â€Å"I will, tomorrow. I'll take her out and show her the city,† Charlie said. And he would have, too, except he woke to find the name Madeline Alby written on his day planner, and next to her name, the number one. Oh yeah, and the cockroach was dead. I will take you out,† Charlie said as he put Sophie in her high chair for breakfast. â€Å"I will, honey. I promise. Can you believe that they'd only give me one day?† â€Å"No,† Sophie said. â€Å"Juice,† she added, because she was in her chair and this was juice time. â€Å"I'm sorry about Bear, honey,† Charlie said, brushing her hair this way, then that, then giving up. â€Å"He was a good bug, but he is no more. Mrs. Ling will bury him. That window box of hers must be getting pretty crowded.† He didn't remember there being a window box in Mrs. Ling's window, but who was he to question? Charlie threw open the phone book and, mercifully, found an M. Alby with an address on Telegraph Hill – not ten minutes' walk away. No client had ever been this close, and with almost six months without a peep or a shade from the sewer harpies, he was starting to feel like he had this whole Death Merchant thing under control. He'd even placed most of the soul vessels that he'd collected. The short notice felt bad. Really bad. The house was an Italianate Victorian on the hill just below the Coit Tower, the great granite column built in honor of the San Francisco firemen who had lost their lives in the line of duty. Although it's said to have been designed with a fire-hose nozzle in mind, almost no one who sees the tower can resist the urge to comment on its resemblance to a giant penis. Madeline Alby's house, a flat-roofed white rectangle with ornate scrolling trim and a crowning cornice of carved cherubs, looked like a wedding cake balanced on the tower's scrotum. So as Charlie trudged up the nut sack of San Francisco, he wondered exactly how he was going to get inside the house. Usually he had time, he could wait and follow someone in, or construct some kind of ruse to gain entrance, but this time he had only one day to get inside, find the soul vessel, and get out. He hoped that Madeline Alby had already died. He really didn't like being around sick people. When he saw the car parked out front with the small green hospice sticker, his hopes for a dead client were smashed like a cupcake with a sledgehammer. He walked up the front porch steps at the left of the house and waited by the door. Could he open it himself? Would people be able to see it, or did his special â€Å"unnoticeability† extend to objects he moved as well? He didn't think so. But then the door opened and a woman about Charlie's age stepped out onto the porch. â€Å"I'm just having a smoke,† she called back into the house, and before she could close the door behind her, Charlie slipped inside. The front door opened into a foyer; to his right Charlie saw what had originally been the parlor. There was a stairway in front of him, and another door beyond that that he guessed led to the kitchen. He could hear voices in the parlor and peeked around the corner to see four elderly women sitting on two couches that faced each other. They were in dresses and hats, and they might have just come from church, but Charlie guessed they had come to see their friend off. â€Å"You'd think she'd give up the smoking, with her mother upstairs dying of cancer,† said one of the ladies, wearing a gray skirt and jacket with matching hat, and a large enameled pin in the shape of a Holstein cow. â€Å"Well, she always was a hardheaded girl,† said another, wearing a dress that looked as if it had been made from the same floral material as the couch. â€Å"You know she used to meet with my son Jimmy up in Pioneer Park when they were little.† â€Å"She said she was going to marry him,† said another woman, who looked like a sister of the first. The ladies laughed, whimsy and sadness mixed in their tones. â€Å"Well, I don't know what she was thinking, he's as flighty as can be,† said Mom. â€Å"Yeah, and brain damaged,† added the sister. â€Å"Well, yes, he is now.† â€Å"Since the car ran over him,† said Sis. â€Å"Didn't he run right in front of a car?† asked one of the ladies who had been silent until now. â€Å"No, he ran right into it,† said Mom. â€Å"He was on the drugs then.† She sighed. â€Å"I always said I had one of each – a boy, a girl, and a Jimmy.† They all nodded. This was not the first time this group had done this, Charlie guessed. They were the type that bought sympathy cards in bulk, and every time they heard an ambulance go by they made a note to pick up their black dress from the cleaner's. â€Å"You know Maddy looked bad,† said the lady in gray. â€Å"Well, she's dying, sweetheart, that's what happens.† â€Å"I guess.† Another sigh. The tinkle of ice in glasses. They were all nursing neat little cocktails. Charlie guessed they'd been mixed by the younger woman who was outside smoking. He looked around the room for something that was glowing red. There was an oak rolltop desk in the corner that he'd like to get a look in, but that would have to wait until later. He ducked out of the doorway and into the kitchen, where two men in their late thirties, maybe early forties, were sitting at an oak table, playing Scrabble. â€Å"Is Jenny coming back? It's her turn.† â€Å"She might have gone up to see Mom with one of the ladies. The hospice nurse is letting them go up one at a time.† â€Å"I just wish it was over. I can't stand this waiting. I have a family I need to get back to. I'm about to crawl out of my fucking skin.† The older of the two reached across the table and set two tiny blue pills by his brother's tiles. â€Å"These help.† â€Å"What are they?† â€Å"Time-released morphine.† â€Å"Really?† The younger brother looked alarmed. â€Å"You hardly even feel them, they just sort of take the edge off. Jenny's been taking them for two weeks.† â€Å"That's why you guys are taking this so well and I'm a wreck? You guys are stoned on Mom's pain medication?† â€Å"Yep.† â€Å"I don't take drugs. Those are drugs. You don't take drugs.† The older brother sat back in his chair. â€Å"Pain medication, Bill. What are you feeling?† â€Å"No, I'm not taking Mom's pain meds.† â€Å"Suit yourself.† â€Å"What if she needs them?† â€Å"There's enough morphine in that room to bring down a Kodiak bear, and if she needs more, then hospice will bring more.† Charlie wanted to shake the younger brother and yell, Take the drugs, you idiot. Maybe it was the benefit of experience. Having now seen this situation happen again and again, families on deathwatch, out of their minds with grief and exhaustion, friends moving in and out of the house like ghosts, saying good-bye or just covering some sort of base so they could say they had been there, so perhaps they wouldn't have to die alone themselves. Why was none of this in the books of the dead? Why didn't the instructions tell him about all the pain and confusion he was going to see? â€Å"I'm going to go find Jenny,† said the older brother, â€Å"see if she wants to get something to eat. We can finish the game later if you want.† â€Å"That's okay, I was losing anyway.† The younger brother gathered up the tiles and put the board away. â€Å"I'm going to go upstairs and see if I can catch a nap, tonight's my night watching Mom.† The older brother walked out and Charlie watched the younger brother drop the blue pills into his shirt pocket and leave the kitchen, leaving the Death Dealer to ransack the pantry and the cabinets looking for the soul vessel. But he felt before he even started that it wouldn't be there. He was going to have to go upstairs. He really, really hated being around sick people. Madeline Alby was propped up and tucked into bed with a down comforter up around her neck. She was so slight that her body barely showed under the covers. Charlie guessed that she might weigh seventy or eighty pounds max. Her face was drawn and he could see the outlines of her eye sockets and her jawbone jutting through her skin, which had gone yellow. Charlie guessed liver cancer. One of her friends from downstairs was sitting at her bedside, the hospice-care worker, a big woman in scrubs, sat in a chair across the room, reading. A small dog, a Yorkshire terrier, Charlie thought, was snuggled up between Madeline's shoulder and her neck, sleeping. When Charlie stepped into the room, Madeline said, â€Å"Hey there, kid.† He froze in his steps. She was looking right at him – crystal-blue eyes, and a smile. Had the floor squeaked? Had he bumped something? â€Å"What are you doing there, kid?† She giggled. â€Å"Who do you see, Maddy?† asked the friend. She followed Madeline's gaze but looked right through Charlie. â€Å"A kid over there.† â€Å"Okay, Maddy. Do you want some water?† The friend reached for a child's sippy cup with a built-in straw from the nightstand. â€Å"No. Tell that kid to come in here, though. Come in here, kid.† Madeline worked her arms out of the covers and started moving her hands in sewing motions, like she was embroidering a tapestry in the air before her. â€Å"Well, I'd better go,† said the friend. â€Å"Let you get some rest.† The friend glanced at the hospice woman, who looked over her reading glasses and smiled with her eyes. The only expert in the house, giving permission. The friend stood and kissed Madeline Alby on the forehead. Madeline stopped sewing for a second, closed her eyes, and leaned into the kiss, like a young girl. Her friend squeezed her hand and said, â€Å"Good-bye, Maddy.† Charlie stepped aside and let the woman pass. He watched her shoulders heave with a sob as she went through the door. â€Å"Hey, kid,† Madeline said. â€Å"Come over here and sit down.† She paused in her sewing long enough to look Charlie in the eye, which freaked him out more than a little. He glanced at the hospice worker, who glanced up from her book, then went back to reading. Charlie pointed to himself. â€Å"Yeah, you,† Madeline said. Charlie was going into a panic. She could see him, but the hospice nurse could not, or so it seemed. An alarm beeped on the nurse's watch and Madeline picked up the little dog and held it to her ear. â€Å"Hello? Hi, how are you?† She looked up at Charlie. â€Å"It's my oldest daughter.† The little dog looked at Charlie, too, with a distinct â€Å"save me† look in its eyes. â€Å"Time for some medicine, Madeline,† the nurse said. â€Å"Can't you see I'm on the phone, Sally,† Madeline said. â€Å"Hang on a second.† â€Å"Okay, I'll wait,† the nurse said. She picked up a brown bottle with an eyedropper in it, filled the dropper, and checked the dosage and held. â€Å"Bye. Love you, too,† Madeline said. She held the tiny dog out to Charlie. â€Å"Hang that up, would you?† The nurse snatched the dog out of the air and set it down on the bed next to Madeline. â€Å"Open up, Madeline,† the nurse said. Madeline opened wide and the nurse squirted the eyedropper into the old woman's mouth. â€Å"Mmm, strawberry,† Madeline said. â€Å"That's right, strawberry. Would you like to wash it down with some water?† The nurse held the sippy cup. â€Å"No. Cheese. I'd like some cheese.† â€Å"I can get you some cheese,† said the nurse. â€Å"Cheddar cheese.† â€Å"Cheddar it is,† said the nurse. â€Å"I'll be right back.† She tucked the covers around Madeline and left the room. The old woman looked at Charlie again. â€Å"Can you talk, now that she's gone?† Charlie shrugged and looked in every direction, his hand over his mouth, like someone looking for an emergency spot to spit out a mouthful of bad seafood. â€Å"Don't mime, honey,† Madeline said. â€Å"No one likes a mime.† Charlie sighed heavily, what was there to lose now? She could see him. â€Å"Hello, Madeline. I'm Charlie.† â€Å"I always liked the name Charlie,† Madeline said. â€Å"How come Sally can't see you?† â€Å"Only you can see me right now,† Charlie said. â€Å"Because I'm dying?† â€Å"I think so.† â€Å"Okay. You're a nice-looking kid, you know that?† â€Å"Thanks. You're not bad yourself.† â€Å"I'm scared, Charlie. It doesn't hurt. I used to be afraid that it would hurt, but now I'm afraid of what happens next.† Charlie sat down on the chair next to the bed. â€Å"I think that's why I'm here, Madeline, you don't need to be afraid.† â€Å"I drank a lot of brandy, Charlie. That's why this happened.† â€Å"Maddy – can I call you Maddy?† â€Å"Sure, kid, we're friends.† â€Å"Yes, we are. Maddy, this was always going to happen. You didn't do anything to cause it.† â€Å"Well, that's good.† â€Å"Maddy, do you have something for me?† â€Å"Like a present?† â€Å"Like a present you would give to yourself. Something I can keep for you and give you back later, when it will be a surprise.† â€Å"My pincushion,† Madeline said. â€Å"I'd like you to have that. It was my grandmother's.† â€Å"I'd be honored to keep that for you, Maddy. Where can I find it?† â€Å"In my sewing box, on the top shelf of that closet.† She pointed to an old-style single closet across the room. â€Å"Oh, excuse me, phone.† Madeline talked to her oldest daughter on the edge of the comforter while Charlie got the sewing box from the top shelf of the closet. It was made of wicker and he could see the red glow of the soul vessel inside. He removed a pincushion fashioned from red velvet wrapped with bands of real silver and held it up for Madeline to see. She smiled and gave him the thumbs-up, just as the nurse returned with a small plate of cheese and crackers. â€Å"It's my oldest daughter,† Madeline explained to the nurse, holding the edge of the comforter to her chest so her daughter didn't hear. â€Å"Oh my, is that cheese?† The nurse nodded. â€Å"And crackers.† â€Å"I'll call you back, honey, Sally has brought cheese and I don't want to be rude.† She hung up the sheet and allowed Sally to feed her bites of cheese and crackers. â€Å"I believe this is the best cheese I've ever tasted,† Madeline said. Charlie could tell from the expression on her face that it was, indeed, the best cheese she had ever tasted. Every ounce of her being was going into tasting those slivers of cheddar, and she let loose little moans of pleasure as she chewed. â€Å"You want some cheese, Charlie?† Madeline asked, spraying cracker shrapnel all over the nurse, who turned to look at the corner where Charlie was standing with the pincushion tucked safely in his jacket pocket. â€Å"Oh, you can't see him, Sally,† Madeline said, tapping the nurse on the hand. â€Å"But he's a handsome rascal. A little skinny, though.† Then, to Sally, but overly loud to be sure that Charlie could hear: â€Å"He could use some fucking cheese.† Then she laughed, spraying more crackers on the nurse, who was laughing, too, and trying not to dump the plate. â€Å"What did she say?† came a voice from the hall. Then the two sons and the daughter entered, chagrined at first at what they had heard, but then laughing with the nurse and their mother. â€Å"I said that cheese is good,† Madeline said. â€Å"Yeah, Mom, it is,† said the daughter. Charlie stood there in the corner, watching them eat cheese, and laughing, thinking, This should have been in the book. He watched them help her with her bedpan, and give her drinks of water, and wipe her face with a damp cloth – watched her bite at the cloth the way Sophie did when he washed her face. The eldest daughter, who Charlie realized had been dead for some time, called three more times, once on the dog and twice on the pillow. Around lunchtime Madeline was tired, and she went to sleep, and about a half hour into her nap she started panting, then stopped, then didn't breathe for a full minute, then took a deep breath, then didn't. And Charlie slipped out the door with her soul in his pocket.