Arthur woke before dawn on the final first Tuesday. I knew he was awake because I heard his cane touch the bedroom floor once, then stop. He had spent the previous week sleeping fourteen or fifteen hours a day, but that morning his eyes were clear. He sat on the edge of the bed in his undershirt, breathing carefully, and looked toward the window as darkness thinned over Hawthorne Lane.<\/p>\n
\u201cWe should cancel,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n
\u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou haven\u2019t stood up yet.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m building suspense.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou\u2019re building my blood pressure.\u201d<\/p>\n
He smiled.<\/p>\n
I brought his clothes from the closet.<\/p>\n
He chose a gray jacket I had not seen him wear in months.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy that one?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIt has inside pockets.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cFor what?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThings.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cArthur.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHelen.\u201d<\/p>\n
We had been using each other\u2019s names as complete arguments for years.<\/p>\n
I helped him dress.<\/p>\n
His body had become startlingly light. The man who once carried fifty-pound bags of soil through the yard now had wrists I could nearly circle with my fingers. Illness had taken muscle, appetite, privacy, patience. What it had not taken was the particular way Arthur watched the world when he was making a decision.<\/p>\n
By six thirty, I had the car warming.<\/p>\n
He stopped at the kitchen door.<\/p>\n
His eyes went to the brass hook beside it.<\/p>\n
My spare key hung there.<\/p>\n
Sandra had borrowed it months earlier, claiming she needed access if there was an emergency. Arthur had insisted she return it.<\/p>\n
\u201cTake that down,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n
\u201cThe key?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cPut it in your purse.\u201d<\/p>\n
I did.<\/p>\n
He looked relieved.<\/p>\n
The gesture bothered me.<\/p>\n
\u201cAre you expecting Sandra today?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cRoy?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThen why\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHumor a dying man.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019ve been doing that for two years.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cExcellent. You\u2019re experienced.\u201d<\/p>\n
Outside, the air had that cold metallic smell that comes before winter. I wrapped a blanket around his legs after he settled into the passenger seat.<\/p>\n
His cane lay across his knees.<\/p>\n
He placed one hand on it.<\/p>\n
For the first ten minutes, neither of us spoke.<\/p>\n
Then Arthur said, \u201cDo you remember the first time we met?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou accused me of stealing your socks.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI had twelve pairs when I entered the hospital.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou had eleven when I counted.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cTwelve.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou were on morphine.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cMy arithmetic was excellent.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYour arithmetic claimed the television was a window.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat happened once.\u201d<\/p>\n
I smiled.<\/p>\n
The first time I met Arthur, he had been sixty-three and furious about surviving a heart attack. I was the nurse assigned to his recovery floor. He hated the hospital food, the blood-pressure cuff, the physical therapist, the cardiologist, and me in approximately that order.<\/p>\n
\u201cMrs. Mercer keeps calling,\u201d I had told him.<\/p>\n
\u201cMy wife worries.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cShe loves you.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSame problem.\u201d<\/p>\n
Margaret died eleven years later.<\/p>\n
I did not see Arthur during those years.<\/p>\n
By the time our paths crossed again, I had left hospital nursing. He recognized me at a pharmacy while arguing with an automated blood-pressure machine.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou stole my socks,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n
I laughed so loudly the pharmacist looked over.<\/p>\n
Coffee followed.<\/p>\n
Then lunches.<\/p>\n
Then long walks, before his knees worsened.<\/p>\n
Then marriage.<\/p>\n
Roy and Sandra attended the wedding but refused to appear in photographs.<\/p>\n
Arthur never discussed that day without becoming quiet.<\/p>\n
Now, as we drove downtown for the twenty-second time, he reached over and touched the back of my hand.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m glad the machine was broken.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat machine?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThe blood-pressure machine.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIt wasn\u2019t broken.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIt told me my pressure was high.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou were shouting at it.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIt was provoking me.\u201d<\/p>\n
I laughed.<\/p>\n
He watched me.<\/p>\n
\u201cRemember that.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cLaughing.\u201d<\/p>\n
My throat tightened.<\/p>\n
\u201cDon\u2019t start.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m not starting.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou are.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m finishing.\u201d<\/p>\n
I gripped the wheel.<\/p>\n
\u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n
Arthur looked forward.<\/p>\n
\u201cHelen.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo deathbed wisdom before breakfast.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIt\u2019s after breakfast.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou ate half a piece of toast.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI ate the important half.\u201d<\/p>\n
I drove faster than I should have.<\/p>\n
Mr. Katz was waiting outside when we arrived.<\/p>\n
So was Officer Bennett.<\/p>\n
I recognized him from the card in Arthur\u2019s drawer.<\/p>\n
He was younger than I expected, perhaps early forties, wearing a dark coat and holding a folder beneath one arm.<\/p>\n
I turned toward Arthur.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou said lawyer.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIt is a law office.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou neglected the police officer.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHe\u2019s decorative.\u201d<\/p>\n
Officer Bennett heard him.<\/p>\n
\u201cSo I\u2019ve been told.\u201d<\/p>\n
I helped Arthur out.<\/p>\n
The officer offered his arm.<\/p>\n
Arthur ignored it and used the cane.<\/p>\n
Pride survived everything.<\/p>\n
Inside, Mr. Katz\u2019s assistant had cleared the waiting room.<\/p>\n
No magazines.<\/p>\n
No cookies.<\/p>\n
No other clients.<\/p>\n
That frightened me more than Bennett\u2019s presence.<\/p>\n
Arthur stopped before the inner office.<\/p>\n
\u201cHelen.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cToday may take longer.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou can barely stay awake.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI know.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m coming in.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cFor once, stop protecting your legal record and let your wife sit beside you.\u201d<\/p>\n
His face softened.<\/p>\n
\u201cEspecially today.\u201d<\/p>\n
I understood.<\/p>\n
If I entered, somebody could later claim I influenced whatever he was about to sign or record.<\/p>\n
Arthur touched my cheek.<\/p>\n
\u201cCoffee\u2019s fresh.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI hate you.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo, you don\u2019t.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cCurrently undecided.\u201d<\/p>\n
He smiled.<\/p>\n
Then he went inside.<\/p>\n
The door closed.<\/p>\n
I waited three hours and twelve minutes.<\/p>\n
The wall clock seemed to become louder as the morning passed.<\/p>\n
At ten fifteen, Mr. Katz\u2019s assistant carried in water.<\/p>\n
At ten forty, Officer Bennett came out, made a phone call in the corridor, then returned without speaking to me.<\/p>\n
At eleven twenty, another man arrived.<\/p>\n
He introduced himself as Dr. Harlan, a geriatric psychiatrist.<\/p>\n
My stomach dropped.<\/p>\n
Another capacity evaluation.<\/p>\n
He entered Arthur\u2019s office.<\/p>\n
Forty minutes later he left.<\/p>\n
\u201cHow is he?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n
The doctor considered his answer.<\/p>\n
\u201cTired.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cMentally?\u201d<\/p>\n
He looked toward the door.<\/p>\n
\u201cVery clear.\u201d<\/p>\n
The words were meant to reassure me.<\/p>\n
Instead, they told me Arthur had just passed whatever examination mattered.<\/p>\n
At twelve seventeen, the office door opened.<\/p>\n
Arthur emerged in the wheelchair again.<\/p>\n
Mr. Katz pushed him.<\/p>\n
Officer Bennett followed carrying two sealed envelopes.<\/p>\n
Arthur\u2019s gray jacket was zipped to his throat.<\/p>\n
His hands were empty.<\/p>\n
I stood.<\/p>\n
\u201cThat\u2019s it?\u201d<\/p>\n
Arthur smiled.<\/p>\n
\u201cThat\u2019s it.\u201d<\/p>\n
Mr. Katz looked at me. \u201cHelen, Friday at ten.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI know.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cPlease come even if someone tells you the meeting has been canceled.\u201d<\/p>\n
I frowned.<\/p>\n
\u201cWho would tell me that?\u201d<\/p>\n
Mr. Katz did not answer.<\/p>\n
Officer Bennett watched Arthur.<\/p>\n
Something passed silently among the three men.<\/p>\n
I hated it.<\/p>\n
\u201cI would like one person in this building to speak a complete sentence.\u201d<\/p>\n
Arthur pointed toward me.<\/p>\n
\u201cThat\u2019s why I married her.\u201d<\/p>\n
Mr. Katz almost smiled.<\/p>\n
Then he leaned down toward Arthur.<\/p>\n
\u201cAre you certain?\u201d<\/p>\n
Arthur nodded.<\/p>\n
\u201cEvery word.\u201d<\/p>\n
The lawyer straightened.<\/p>\n
\u201cAll right.\u201d<\/p>\n
On the way home, Arthur slept.<\/p>\n
At one traffic light, his hand slipped from the cane.<\/p>\n
I caught it before it fell.<\/p>\n
He woke.<\/p>\n
\u201cStill here?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhere would I go?\u201d<\/p>\n
He looked at me for several seconds.<\/p>\n
\u201cThat\u2019s the point.\u201d<\/p>\n
I did not understand.<\/p>\n
At home, he asked to sit in the kitchen rather than go straight to bed.<\/p>\n
I made tea.<\/p>\n
He drank two sips.<\/p>\n
The afternoon light stretched across the floorboards.<\/p>\n
Arthur looked around the room as if seeing it from a distance.<\/p>\n
\u201cMargaret chose those curtains.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI know.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cShe changed her mind four times.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThey\u2019re nice.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThey cost more than my first car.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat explains why Sandra wants them.\u201d<\/p>\n
He smiled, then became serious.<\/p>\n
\u201cDon\u2019t remove Margaret.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI never have.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI mean after.\u201d<\/p>\n
My throat tightened.<\/p>\n
\u201cArthur.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cShe belongs here too.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cShe always has.\u201d<\/p>\n
He nodded.<\/p>\n
\u201cI know.\u201d<\/p>\n
He took another sip.<\/p>\n
\u201cRoy thinks you\u2019re trying to replace her.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI know.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSandra thinks loving you means I loved their mother less.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI know.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThey\u2019re wrong.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI know.\u201d<\/p>\n
He looked almost irritated.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou know everything today.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIt saves time.\u201d<\/p>\n
His laugh turned into a cough.<\/p>\n
When it passed, he looked exhausted.<\/p>\n
I helped him to the study.<\/p>\n
Before sleeping, he caught my sleeve.<\/p>\n
\u201cFriday.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cPromise me.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019ll be there.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo matter what they say.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWho?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cRoy. Sandra.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat are they going to say?\u201d<\/p>\n
He closed his eyes.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhatever they need to.\u201d<\/p>\n
I sat beside him.<\/p>\n
\u201cArthur, what did you do?\u201d<\/p>\n
He breathed slowly.<\/p>\n
\u201cMade sure you don\u2019t have to ask permission.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cFor what?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cTo stay.\u201d<\/p>\n
The word landed harder than I expected.<\/p>\n
I looked toward the doorway, toward the hall beyond it, toward the house where we had eaten thousands of ordinary meals, argued over thermostats, folded laundry, watched storms, buried a dog, welcomed grandchildren, and received the diagnosis that would eventually end our marriage without ending what it meant.<\/p>\n
\u201cThe house?\u201d<\/p>\n
Arthur\u2019s eyes remained closed.<\/p>\n
\u201cFriday.\u201d<\/p>\n
I wanted to demand more.<\/p>\n
I didn\u2019t.<\/p>\n
That evening Roy came over.<\/p>\n
He brought no food.<\/p>\n
He sat beside Arthur for twenty minutes, talked about the football season, then wandered into the garage.<\/p>\n
I followed after five minutes.<\/p>\n
He was standing beside the workbench with the tape measure again.<\/p>\n
This time he had a notebook.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat are you doing?\u201d<\/p>\n
He turned.<\/p>\n
\u201cChecking whether my boat trailer will fit.\u201d<\/p>\n
My mouth went dry.<\/p>\n
\u201cYour father is alive.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI know.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThen why are you measuring his garage?\u201d<\/p>\n
Roy frowned.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m planning.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cFor his death?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cFor practical matters.\u201d<\/p>\n
I took out my phone.<\/p>\n
His expression changed.<\/p>\n
\u201cDon\u2019t.\u201d<\/p>\n
I photographed him anyway.<\/p>\n
\u201cHelen.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOne more for the memories.\u201d<\/p>\n
He stepped toward me.<\/p>\n
Then Arthur\u2019s voice came through the open door.<\/p>\n
\u201cRoy.\u201d<\/p>\n
Not loud.<\/p>\n
But enough.<\/p>\n
Roy stopped.<\/p>\n
Arthur stood in the kitchen doorway, one hand braced against the frame.<\/p>\n
I had not heard him approach.<\/p>\n
\u201cCome inside,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n
Roy looked embarrassed.<\/p>\n
\u201cDad, I was just\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI know.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou said I could store the boat here someday.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI said maybe.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI assumed\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat is your problem.\u201d<\/p>\n
Roy stared at his father.<\/p>\n
Arthur\u2019s breathing was labored.<\/p>\n
His voice was not.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou keep confusing maybe with mine.\u201d<\/p>\n
Roy\u2019s face hardened.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat is that supposed to mean?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIt means stop measuring things that belong to people who are still alive.\u201d<\/p>\n
Roy put the tape measure away.<\/p>\n
He left ten minutes later.<\/p>\n
Arthur sat at the kitchen table until the shaking in his hands stopped.<\/p>\n
\u201cThat photograph,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n
\u201cI know.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBox.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI know.\u201d<\/p>\n
I placed it in the shoebox that night.<\/p>\n
Twenty-two dated envelopes were inside by then.<\/p>\n
Medication counts.<\/p>\n
Pharmacy receipts.<\/p>\n
Photographs.<\/p>\n
Notes.<\/p>\n
Copies of papers I had found near Arthur\u2019s hospice bed.<\/p>\n
A list of missing silver.<\/p>\n
Dates Roy visited.<\/p>\n
Dates Sandra visited.<\/p>\n
Dates Arthur became abnormally sleepy afterward.<\/p>\n
I tied the box with a length of cotton cord and returned it to the trunk beneath the floor panel.<\/p>\n
Four days later Arthur entered hospice again.<\/p>\n
This time nobody pretended he was coming home.<\/p>\n
His decline was rapid.<\/p>\n
He slept more than he woke.<\/p>\n
Roy came twice.<\/p>\n
Sandra came three times.<\/p>\n
On the second night, I woke in the chair beside Arthur\u2019s bed and saw Sandra standing over his bedside drawer.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat are you doing?\u201d<\/p>\n
She jerked around.<\/p>\n
\u201cLooking for tissues.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThey\u2019re on the table.\u201d<\/p>\n
She closed the drawer.<\/p>\n
Arthur\u2019s eyes remained shut.<\/p>\n
Sandra left fifteen minutes later.<\/p>\n
I checked the drawer.<\/p>\n
A medication bottle had moved.<\/p>\n
I photographed it.<\/p>\n
Arthur opened his eyes.<\/p>\n
\u201cI thought you were asleep.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cExcellent acting.\u201d<\/p>\n
My stomach dropped.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou saw her.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat did she touch?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBottle.\u201d<\/p>\n
I called the nurse.<\/p>\n
The pills were counted.<\/p>\n
One was missing.<\/p>\n
The nurse documented it.<\/p>\n
Arthur asked for a copy.<\/p>\n
That page became envelope twenty-two.<\/p>\n
Three mornings later, Arthur died.<\/p>\n
There was no dramatic last sentence.<\/p>\n
No sudden revelation.<\/p>\n
His breathing simply became farther apart.<\/p>\n
I held his hand.<\/p>\n
He opened his eyes once.<\/p>\n
I leaned close.<\/p>\n
He whispered something so softly I almost missed it.<\/p>\n
\u201cFriday.\u201d<\/p>\n
Then he was gone.<\/p>\n
At the funeral, Roy told me to pack.<\/p>\n
Sandra took my key.<\/p>\n
They believed Arthur\u2019s death had ended his ability to stop them.<\/p>\n
They were wrong.<\/p>\n
Thursday night, I removed the shoebox from the trunk and placed it beside my bed.<\/p>\n
At nine twelve, my phone rang.<\/p>\n
Sandra.<\/p>\n
I answered.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou don\u2019t need to go tomorrow,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n
I looked at the box.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cRoy talked to someone. Katz is just handling paperwork. The old will is clear.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThen going won\u2019t hurt.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHelen.\u201d<\/p>\n
Her voice sharpened.<\/p>\n
\u201cThis is family business.\u201d<\/p>\n
I looked toward Arthur\u2019s empty side of the bed.<\/p>\n
For nine years, those words had been used to place me outside every invisible boundary they wanted to draw.<\/p>\n
I touched the cotton cord around the shoebox.<\/p>\n
\u201cTen o\u2019clock,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n
Sandra went silent.<\/p>\n
Then she asked, \u201cWhat did Dad tell you?\u201d<\/p>\n
I remembered his eyes closing in the kitchen.<\/p>\n
Friday.<\/p>\n
\u201cNothing,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n
That frightened her more than any answer could have.<\/p>\n
She hung up.<\/p>\n
I did not sleep much.<\/p>\n
At nine the next morning, I dressed in the navy blouse Arthur liked because he said it made me look as if I intended to win an argument.<\/p>\n
I took my purse.<\/p>\n
I took the shoebox.<\/p>\n
Before leaving, I checked the kitchen hook.<\/p>\n
Empty.<\/p>\n
Sandra still had my key.<\/p>\n
I stood there for a moment.<\/p>\n
Then I closed the door behind me and drove downtown.<\/p>\n
Mr. Katz\u2019s blue door was already unlocked.<\/p>\n
Roy\u2019s car was parked out front.<\/p>\n
Sandra\u2019s was beside it.<\/p>\n
And through the office window, I could see a small black recorder waiting on the lawyer\u2019s desk.<\/p>\n
Arthur had spent twenty-two months preparing for that room.<\/p>\n
At last, I was about to learn why.<\/p>\n
Arthur woke before dawn on the final first Tuesday. I knew he was awake because I heard his cane touch the bedroom floor once, then stop. He had spent the … <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":11187,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-11191","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-feel-one-story"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/feelonestory.online\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/11191","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/feelonestory.online\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/feelonestory.online\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/feelonestory.online\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/feelonestory.online\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=11191"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/feelonestory.online\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/11191\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":11239,"href":"https:\/\/feelonestory.online\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/11191\/revisions\/11239"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/feelonestory.online\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/11187"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/feelonestory.online\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=11191"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/feelonestory.online\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=11191"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/feelonestory.online\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=11191"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}