Case Study of the Credit Card Processing Industry Term Paper

Case Study of the Credit Card Processing Industry - Term Paper Example The credit card processing industry has been in the forefront in adopting new technology. Credit card processing is mainly done through electronic processing. The credit card associations and companies have laid down policies and procedures for credit card processing. The system of processing credit cards is very complex as it involves processing transactions hypothetically throughout the payment process system. Usual credit card transaction in involve the following participants: the customer, merchants, payment gateway, acquiring banks processor, credit card interchange, customer’s credit card issuer, and merchant acquiring bank. The settlement for the credit card interchange institutions is done electronically. The computerized transaction settlement systems are used to make payments to the credit card interchange institutions. Today, the main credit card interchanges include MasterCard and Visa .MasterCard and Visa have agents all over the world that persuade merchants to a ccept transactions using their cards. When a customer makes a purchase at the point of sale, the merchant forwards the transaction at the end of the day to the merchant’s bank. The merchant’s bank pays the merchant for the purchase after deducting a fixed fee before forwarding the purchase to MasterCard or Visa. After receiving the transaction money, MasterCard or Visa forwards the transaction charge to the credit card issuer. The credit card issuer then makes payment of a fixed fee to MasterCard or Visa. MasterCard or Visa then makes payment to the merchant bank. MasterCard or Visa collects fees for both the card issuer and the merchant bank. Then the issuer of the card charges the customer for the amount of purchases made. The card holder finally pays the bank a minimum amount at an interest or pays the whole amount. The credit card processing system uses point of sale electronic authorization, which has replaced the traditional paper work and telephone costs. The el ectronic data capture used in credit card transaction today has helped the banks to process and accept transactions much faster. The retail systems in the supermarkets and major hotels have been changed in order to fit the changing needs of using credit cards. The main advantage of using a credit card for the customer is that it is convenient. One disadvantage is that the customer is most likely to fall into a debt that will not be easy to get out of. The whole of the credit card processing system is based on trust. Today, the credit card processing industry has been marred with fraud. The credit card processors have come up with tools to help merchants to identify fraud. These tools are web based and used by merchants to avoid scam. Model relationships capture system for the transactions will affect the customer’s loyalty of using credit cards. The model relationship capture is used to determine risk of issuing a credit card in the future. The credit card scoring points will assess the future business opportunity. The economic crisis has hit the credit card industry so hard that many customers are opting not to use credit cards. Many credit card holders have submerged in the credit card debts and are opting to use debit cards instead of credit cards. Following these dwindling fortunes, the credit card processing industry has to improve their operations in order to maintain customers in the future .The

Goverment 2 Essay Example | Topics and Well Written Essays - 750 words

Goverment 2 - Essay Example In Texas, the governor could fill any position in an Appellate or district court left vacant by resignation, death, or new positions created by the county commissioners’ court which is the governing body. The vacant positions are filled until the next election is conducted and then they seek re-election. The judicial system in Texas has had numerous appointments by the governor as the judges upon retirement they resign to allow the governors fill the positions as they can be trusted with choosing a replacement unlike the voters would o in a ballot. The straight – ticket voting in Texas has led to many Democratic office holders lose their positions to the unknown Republican challengers who have minimal or no judicial and courtroom experience; in 1994, Republican candidates who lacked judicial experience defeated 16 incumbent Democrats while one Democrat was re-elected in Harris County. In the same year, Steve Mansfield was elected to the Texas Court of Criminal Appeals, the highest court for criminal cases in Texas whilst he lacked experience in criminal law. The other problem is the effect of candidate judges campaign contributions so as to secure a position in the judiciary; Chief Justice John Hill spent over $1 million so as to ensure a win in the elections in 1984, a prospective candidate spent over $2 million in the 1988 elections, and the contributions for the campaign usually come from the law firms that need to do business with the judges they give money. In 1995, the Supreme Court of Texas established a commission to solve the problems and queries of the judicial selection system. The commission was referred to as the Commission on Judicial Reforms (Geyh, 2006). According to Missouri plans, appointments in the judiciary, the arrangement permitting lawyers to create power centre within the judiciary. This is to ensure that judiciary maintains some corrective

Black People and Civil War Essay Example for Free

Black People and Civil War Essay ?Introduction: In this essay I am going to compose a piece of text which will involve the tension of Segregation. In the 1930s, although 50% of the population of Southern towns were black, they had no vote and could not marry whites. Also in the 1930’s, many black people lived in the southern states. During that time, racism reached its highest point. For instance, the whites treated the blacks very poorly because they thought that the blacks were lower than them. Therefore, the blacks had to fight for the right to be treated equally. As a result, black people had to face the Jim Crow Laws and the Ku Klux Klan. In my own opinion I think that the 1930 was a turbulent time for race relations in America. Paragraph 1: The first racism incident that I have spotted out and chosen to write about in my essay is when the Wallace’s’ poured kerosene over Mr Berry and his nephews and lit them on fire. One of the nephews died, the other one is alive but has the same condition as Mr Berry. The reason why the Wallace’s poured kerosene over the Berry’s was because they caught them flirting with a white woman which wasn’t allowed back then. In fact, it was not even true! The Berry’s didn’t even flirt with her. They lied about it. The quote that goes with this event was when mama (Cassies’ mum) said to her kids, â€Å"The Wallaces did that, children. They poured kerosene over Mr Berry and his nephews and lit them afire. † â€Å"Everyone knows they did it, and the Wallaces even laugh about it, but nothing was ever done. † At this right moment I feel disgusted and baffled that people could actually do this in the 1930s. The sympathy for the Wallace’s has decreased because setting fire to someone is arson and that makes Mr Wallace and his clique an arsonist. Also it makes us feel that the Wallaces are black-hearted and atrocious people, because who would want to set a person on fire? Then laugh about it. The sympathy for the Berrys has definitely increased because of what happened to both Mr Berry and his two nephews is utterly excruciating and the fact that there is no reason behind why the Wallaces did it, makes the reader feel more sorrowful for them. On the other hand in the book it says, â€Å"Disfigured man lying in the darkness† In that quote you can see how dreadful his injuries were. He was even camouflaging with the darkness; see that is real bad? Paragraph 2: The second racism incident that I found very crucial was when Cassie bumped into Lillian Jean Simms by accident but Lillian Jean still DEMANDED for a sorry and for Cassie to get on her knees instantly. As well as this was racism, it was also bullying in some kind of way because Cassie didn’t want to get on her Knees but she still got forced. â€Å"Kicking at the sidewalk, my head bowed. It was then that I bumped into Lillian Jean Simms. † Cassie really didn’t mean to bump into Lillian Jean at all but she took it over the top reacted to the bump by saying, â€Å"why don’t you watch were you’re going? † â€Å"Well apologize† â€Å"That ain’t enough. Get down in the road† This right here is what you call racism. Cassie didn’t intend to bump into Lillian Jean, it was just an accident but because Cassie is black they didn’t care at all. Cassie even got pushed around by Mr Simms. Mr Simms was even sticking up for his daughter even though she was in the wrong. Lillian Jeans’ father was saying to Cassie that when Lillian tells you that you should get off the sidewalk, you get off it. The sympathy towards Lillian Jean Simms has totally decreased because what she did was just too dramatic and it was just a ‘bump’. In my opinion Cassie did not have to go on her knees because she didn’t deliberately bump into her; all that should have been done was an apology to Lillian. My sympathy towards Cassie has increased more. The reason why I said this was because she was intimidated and forced to get on her knees even though she had already shed a tear; they didn’t care, they just wanted an apology from her. Conclusion: To sum up I think that Racism is totally unacceptable and utterly inglorious. In this novel I think that Taylor was trying to put across the fact of what the black people had to go through in the 1930s every day of their lives, and how their wouldn’t even be an us our even a peaceful world if racism was still occurring. I also think that Taylor is trying to compare today’s life to the 1930s and too see how much the black people suffered.

An Analysis Of To His Coy Mistress English Literature Essay

An Analysis Of To His Coy Mistress English Literature Essay In the poem To His Coy Mistress the speaker carefully tells a subtle and valid argument as to why the woman or his addressee should be sexually attracted to him. The man attempts this sexual proposition through flair in manipulating reason, form and imagery like the vegetable garden. The reasoning would be familiar someone who studied somewhere renaissance England, as it is suggests of a sort of classical philosophical logic; the others are entailing a statement, a counter-statement and a resolution. In line with this method the authors speaker coded his argument in a classical imagery. The first section runs from lines 1 to 20, here the man sets out his view that if Had we but world enough, and time he would not rush the process of finding love and respect. The man establishes a sort of world unconfined by space and time by using the world he had to create the subjunctive tense. This passage of the poem is highly paradoxical however the man is aware that this is purely a hypothetical state before he even begins speaks the words, he cleverly lays out his point of view knowing the impossibility of his announcement. The man aims not only to smooth talk but also to impress the mistress using vivid imagery. To Flatter, but also to amaze her with his knowledge of Asia, the speaker refers to the Ganges and the Humber Rivers to emphasize the distance he would allegedly endure without her if time permitted. The exotic imagery of Asia is in line about British trade and exploration in the region. It also provided an escape from the relatively weak image of everyday life in En gland at the time even if the image of the Far East was unrealistic. This is how he dealt with the idea of space. To confront the concept of time, he uses biblical references to mark the permanent nature of reality. By using a story out of the Old Testament the image of the great flood that purged the earth as a start point and then used the image that Armageddon will ultimately occur at the conversion of the Jews as an end point, the man tries to show the vastness of predicted human existence. At the same time however he subtly hints toward the second more nihilistic section of the poem. If you look at this imagery it is interesting in two respects; first it suggests that physical human life has been ended by God and will be ended by him again. Thus providing a backdrop for the speakers argument that in reality life is temperamental and therefore procreation should not be delayed at the expense of morality. The image is interesting in a second way as it may be Marvells way, as a Puritan, of condemning the speakers attitude, suggesting that the speaker may be punished for sinfully trying to indu lge in base luxury. The speaker goes on to describe his vegetable love, many possible interpretations can be applied to this image. Firstly there is the sexual connotation whereby the vegetable operates as a phallic image, acting as a prelude to the speakers suggestions. As The Norton Anthology of Poetry suggests in the footnote, the vegetable symbolizes a slow unconscious growth of love, emphasizing the sincerity and power of his feelings as they grow vaster than empires. However the irony here lies in the fact that the speaker fully understands that he does not have time to spare and thus his love has developed quickly, consciously and almost forcibly. To finish the first section the speaker begins assigning years of devotion to each part of the mistresses body. It is notable a significant time is spent admiring her breasts, which seems to be a sexually motivated act as opposed to the shorter length of time spent on her eyes, which are often more associated with true love. The hyperbolic statements increase in unrealism to an incomprehensible age to every part; it seems that the speaker is being generous in his admiration but he is cognizant of the lack of weight in his words due to their unattainable status. The next section runs from lines 21 to 32, here the speaker moves away from the hypothetical to reality but retains the melodramatic language used in the previous section to sustain the tenacity of his points. Time here is portrayed as chasing the speaker as opposed to being something the speaker is in control of as in the end of the last section. This is done using the image of a winged chariot, this has classical associations with Greek mythology which relates to his form of argument. The meter of the poem is restrictively regular, this structure emphasizes the idea that time is constantly progressing; reflecting the speakers argument. Space is no longer inhabited by images of movement and life like the rivers previously mentioned but instead: before us lie / Deserts of vast eternity. The desert has strong connection with death, an issue that the man develops upon and progresses within this section. The speaker implies on lines 26-7 that the only exploration of the mistresss body that will be undertaken will be by the worms that are decomposing her body if she remains in her coy state. This thought that her sexuality should not be wasted is elaborated upon with a crude pun on line 29: And your quaint honor turn to dust These images of deterioration linked to sexuality are intended to shock persuade the mistress into not wasting her youth. The speakers sly and ironic tone is revealed to the reader in lines 31-2: The graves a fine and private place, But none, I think, do there embrace. The tone here is clearly sarcastic; the reader enjoys these ironic statements due to the falsity and overacting involved in Marvells speaker as he tries to woo the mistress. The purpose of this second section is to provide a counter-statement to the first section. Discord has been created within the poem; the first section sets out a space where the speaker has an infinite amount of time and space to engage with the mistress, but in the second, time and life are construed as being fleeting and temperamental. This tension is intended to make the mistress feel uneasy and anxious about herself as a young single woman; prompting her to change her attitude towards courtship. To conclude the argument and disagreement between the two former opposite parts the speaker offers a resolution. The reader can easily predict what this will be as the speakers suggestive tone throughout the poem points towards sexual unification. The speakers intention is described using fantastic and abstract lexical choices and phrases. The passage is full of images and language related to movement, physicality and violence such as transpires, like amorous birds of prey and devour. The speaker asserts his masculinity in these images, implying his sexual expertise in an attempt to better his offer. The speaker energetically expresses his make the most of it mentality suggesting that as a combined force, represented in the form of a ball in this section, they will be able to tear our pleasure with rough strife / through the iron gates of life. This notion that together they can conquer life is emphasized on the last two lines where, in agreement with the classical imagery throughout the poem, the speaker admits although he cannot stop the sun together: we will make him run. The mistress is lead to believe that if she submits to her pursuer the winged chariot of time from the previous section will be reversed, with the mistress and speaker in the dominant position. Thus the speaker has concluded his logical progression, firstly operating in an unattainable hypothetical state, then switching to a morbid reality and finally concluding in copulation as a form of mastery over time. Although the reader can see faults in the reasoning employed, admiration is still felt towards the speaker for elaborately crafting his speech in his pursuit of the mistress.

Art, Literature And Society From 1955-1970 Essay -- essays research pa

Fear and Loathing in a Clockwork AgeAh! The noble search for identity. That intangible achievement that all artists lust after and lay in torment over. And during the post war era that struggle reached incredible magnitudes. The world cried out for legions of anti-heroes, who were only virtuous in their unapologetic and brutally honest lack of virtue. And the art world provided as many counter culture messiahs as was needed to "Damn the Man". The Beats, hippies, and punks are evidence that behind the white picket fence of suburbia lay an America that wanted more out of life than the sugar coated portrayals of domesticity and patriotism it received from pop culture. The unfortunate side of authenticity often lead to the conclusion that autonomy was an impossible dream and that just mere existence required an individual to compromise his integrity. The post-war generation developed an interesting love-hate relationship with the mass culture of it’s time. Some, like Andy Warhol, embraced the inevitability of mass culturalization in order to control the beast (yes, this is a reference to Revelations). While others recognized the American Dream as being a hypocrisy and so chose the Golden Eternity instead.The Beat generation and early hippies sought to separate themselves from mainstream society where they believed they could start anew and fully experience life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. The flower child p hilosophy was in fact very Transcendental, minus the stuffy New England mentality. The sexual, spiritual, and intellectual freedom and autonomy that characterized the Haight-Ashberry scene were closer to the Whitmanesque ideal than anything achieved during his life time. Postwar America was extremely prosperous from the stand point of the middle class white suburbanite. The only problem was that not everyone fit that mold. And even those who were born into that environment often found it’s conventions limiting and unfufilling. At home the issues facing minorities went, for the most part, ignored. Jim Crow laws were allowed to stand in the south until major Supreme Court decisions like Brown v. Board of Education declared segregation to be unconstitutional. But even still that did not solve the problem of good old fashioned prejudice, which was as rampant as ever. And not every woman was delighted to once again be her husband’s hous... ...ller: Rock and Roll in the Age of Celebrity. New York: St.Martins Press.1990Bessman, Jim. Ramones: An American Band. New York: St.Martins Press. 1993Doyle, Jennifer, Jonathan Flatley, and Jose Munoz. Pop Out: Queer Warhol. Durham and London: Duke University Press.1996Banes, Sally. Greenich Village 1963. Durham and London: Duke University Press.1993Lippard, Lucy R. Pop Art. London: Thames and Hudson.1985Milbank, Caroline. New York Fashion: The Evolution of American Style. New York: Harry N. Abrams, Inc. Publishers.1989All Other SourcesAli, Tariq, Susan Watkins.1968: Marching in the Streets. New York: Free Press.1998Allen, Donald M.ed. The New American Poetry. New York: Groves Press.1960Burgess, Anthony.A Clockwork Orange. New York: Ballatine Books.1963De Castelbajac, Kate. The Face of a Century:100 Years of Makeup and Style. New York: Rizzoli.1995Dodd, David. The Annotated Grateful Dead Lyrics: A Web Site. <a href="http://arts.ucsc.edu/gdead/agdl/#songs">http://art s.ucsc.edu/gdead/agdl/#songs. June 1, 1999Piccoli, Sean. The Grateful Dead. Philidelphia: Chelsea House Publishers.1997Thompson, Hunter S.Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas. New York: Vintage Books, a Division

Storytelling lost to the documentary :: essays research papers fc

This paper will explore documentaries and storytelling as an important part of culture, what a documentary is compared to a story, and how storytelling is abandoned for this modern media. In this world there exists something that we all have in common and upon which the success of our entire civilization rests. It is the almost magical way in which we communicate and understand each other. Simply said, it is storytelling. Storytelling is a very cool, in media terms, interactive experience between a teller and a listener. In a sense, many mediums such as novels and television, while they contain stories, are not seen in the same light as "storytelling" which permits live storytellers the opportunity to morph and change their stories based on the reactions of story listeners. Most of us recognize story in every facet of life. The American writer and psychiatrist Robert Coles expresses that stories, â€Å"whether written or heard are an encounter with metaphors that bear on everyday life.† Those of us who are careful listeners come to see people’s everyday lives as stories. When speaking to one another we tell our stories, and that the storie s we reach out and identify with can help us make choices, find direction, identify morals, and understand our personal lives. (The Call of Story) Anthropologists, psychologists, and historians believe that storytelling has been with us since the beginning of our existence. For thousands of years, as people struggled to survive, they passed on stories of the wisdom and knowledge they accumulated. In early times, storytelling was used to explain significant and often confusing events such as storms, tidal waves, lightening, and fire. Special types of stories about heroes and gods were used to bind individuals to a common belief system, and moral tales conveyed the first laws that ensured the harmony, cooperation, and ultimately the success of early human populations.(Ebscohost) The stories we are willing to share with one another give our culture its values, beliefs, goals, and traditions. They bring us together into a society, allowing us to work together with a common purpose. Storytelling lives at the heart of human experience. Storytelling is a compelling form of personal communication as ancient as language itself. Since the beginnings of humankind, we have shared through stories the events, beliefs, and values held dear by our families, communities, and cultures. The most important stories we share may be those with family and friends, but all help preserve memory, explain our present, and imagine our future.

Practical Demonkeeping Chapter 10-11

10 AUGUSTUS BRINE Augustus Brine sat in one of his high-backed leather chairs massaging his temples, trying to formulate a plan of action. Rather than answers, the question, Why me? repeated in his mind like a perplexing mantra. Despite his size, strength, and a lifetime of learning, Augustus Brine felt small, weak, and stupid. Why me? A few minutes before, Gian Hen Gian had rushed into the house babbling in Arabic like a madman. When Brine finally calmed him down, the genie had told him he had found the demon. â€Å"You must find the dark one. He must have the Seal of Solomon. You must find him!† Now the genie was sitting in the chair across from Brine, munching potato chips and watching a videotape of a Marx Brothers movie. The genie insisted that Brine take some sort of action, but he had no suggestions on how to proceed. Brine examined the options and found them wanting. He could call the police, tell them that a genie had told him that an invisible man-eating demon had invaded Pine Cove, and spend the rest of his life under sedation: not good. Or, he could find the dark one, insist that he send the demon back to hell, and be eaten by the demon: not good. Or he could find the dark one, sneak around hoping that he wasn't noticed by an invisible demon that could be anywhere, steal the seal, and send the demon back to hell himself, but probably get eaten in the process: also, not good. Of course he could deny that he believed the story, deny that he had seen Gian Hen Gian drink enough saltwater to kill a battalion, deny the existence of the supernatural altogether, open an impudent little bottle of merlot, and sit by his fireplace drinking wine while a demon from hell ate his neighbors. But he did believ e it, and that option, too, was not good. For now he decided to rub his temples and think, Why me? The genie would be no help at all. Without a master he was as powerless as Brine himself. Without the seal and invocation, he could have no master. Brine had run through the more obvious courses of action with Gian Hen Gian to have each doomed in succession. No, he could not kill the demon: he was immortal. No, he could not kill the dark one: he was under the protection of the demon, and killing him, if it were possible, might release the demon to his own will. To attempt an exorcism would be silly, the genie reasoned; would some mingy prelate be able to override the power of Solomon? Perhaps they could separate the demon from his keeper – somehow force the dark one to send the demon back. Brine started to ask Gian Hen Gian if it was feasible but stopped himself. Tears were coursing down the genie's face. â€Å"What's the matter?† Brine asked. Gian Hen Gian kept his eyes trained on the television screen, where Harpo Marx was pulling a collection of objects from his coat, objects obviously too large to be stored there. â€Å"It has been so long since I have seen one of my own kind. This one who does not speak, I do not recognize him, but he is Djinn. What magic!† Brine considered for a moment the possibility that Harpo Marx might have been one of the Djinn, then berated himself for even thinking about it. Too much had happened today that was outside the frame of his experience and it had opened him up to thinking that anything was possible. If he weren't careful, he would lose his sense of judgment completely. â€Å"You've been here a thousand years and you've never seen a movie before?† Brine asked. â€Å"What is a movie?† Slowly and gently, Augustus Brine explained to the king of the Djinn about the illusion created by motion pictures. When he finished, he felt like he had just raped the tooth fairy in front of a class of kindergartners. â€Å"Then I am alone still?† the genie said. â€Å"Not completely.† â€Å"Yes,† the genie said, eager to leave the moment behind, â€Å"but what are you going to do about Catch, Augustus Brine?† 11 EFFROM Effrom Elliot awoke that morning eagerly anticipating his nap. He'd been dreaming about women, about a time when he had hair and choices. He hadn't slept well. Some barking dogs had awakened him during the night, and he wished he could sleep in, but as soon as the sun broke through his bedroom window, he was wide awake, without a hope of getting back to sleep and recapturing his dream until nap time. It had been that way since he had retired, twenty-five years ago. As soon as his life had eased so that he might sleep in, his body would not let him. He crept from bed and dressed in the half-light of the bedroom, putting on corduroys and a wool flannel shirt the wife had laid out for him. He put on his slippers and tiptoed out of the bedroom, palming the door shut so as not to wake the wife. Then he remembered that the wife was gone to Monterey, or was it Santa Barbara? Anyway, she wasn't home. Still, he continued his morning routine with the usual stealth. In the kitchen he put on the water for his morning cup of decaf. Outside the kitchen window the hummingbirds were already hovering up to the feeder, stopping for drinks of red sugar water on their route through the wife's fuchias and honeysuckle. He thought of the hummingbirds as the wife's pets. They moved too fast for his tastes. He had seen a nature show on television that said that their metabolism was so fast that they might not even be able to see humans. The whole world had gone the way of the hummingbirds as far as Effrom was concerned. Everything and everybody was too fast, and sometimes he felt invisible. He couldn't drive anymore. The last time he had tried, the police had stopped him for obstructing traffic. He had told the cop to stop and smell the flowers. He told the cop that he had been driving since before the cop was a glimmer in his daddy's eye. It had been the wrong approach. The policeman took his license. The wife did all the driving now. Imagine it – when he had taught her to drive, he had to keep grabbing the wheel to keep her from putting the Model T into the ditch. What would the snot-nosed cop say about that? The water was beginning to boil on the stove. Effrom rummaged through the old tin bread box and found the package of chocolate-covered graham crackers the wife had left for him. In the cupboard the jar of Sanka sat next to the real coffee. Why not? The wife was gone, why not live a little? He took the regular coffee from the shelf and set about finding the filters and filter holder. He hadn't the slightest idea where they were kept. The wife took care of that sort of thing. He finally found the filters, the holder, and the serving carafe on the shelf below. He poured some coffee into the filter, eyeballed it, and poured in some more. Then he poured the water over the grounds. The coffee came through strong and black as the kaiser's heart. He poured himself a cup and there was still a little left in the carafe. No sense wasting it. He opened the kitchen window, and after fumbling with the lid for a moment, poured the remaining coffee into the hummingbird feeder. â€Å"Live a little, boys.† He wondered if the coffee might not speed them up to the point where they just burnt up in the atmosphere. He toyed with the idea of watching for a while, then he remembered that his exercise show was about to start. He picked up his graham crackers and coffee and headed for the living room and his big easy chair in front of the RCA. He made sure the sound was turned down, then turned on the old console set. When the picture came on, a young blond woman in iridescent tights was leading three other young women through a series of stretches. Effrom guessed that there was music playing from the way they moved, but he always watched with the sound turned off so as not to wake the wife. Since he had discovered his exercise program, the women in his dreams all wore iridescent tights. The girls were all on their backs now, waving their legs in the air. Effrom munched his graham crackers and watched in fascination. Time was when a man had to spend the better part of a week's pay to see a show like that. Now you could get it on cable for only†¦. Well, the wife took care of the cable bill, but he guessed that it was pretty cheap. Life was grand. Effrom considered going out to his workshop and getting his cigarettes. A smoke would go good right now. After all, the wife was gone. Why should he sneak around in his own house? No, the wife would know. And when she confronted him, she wouldn't yell, she would just look at him. She would get that sad look in her blue eyes and she would say, â€Å"Oh, Effrom.† That's all, â€Å"Oh, Effrom.† And he would feel as if he had betrayed her. Nope, he could wait until his show was over and go smoke in his workshop, where the wife would never dare to set foot. Suddenly the house felt very empty. It was like a great vacant warehouse where the slightest noise rattles in the rafters. A presence was missing. He never saw the wife until she knocked on his workshop door at noon to call him to lunch, but somehow he felt her absence, as if the insulation had been ripped from around him, leaving him raw to the elements. For the first time in a long time Effrom felt afraid. The wife was coming back, but maybe someday she would be gone forever. Someday he would really be alone. He wished for a moment that he would die first, then thinking of the wife alone, knocking on the workshop door from which he would never emerge, made him feel selfish and ashamed. He tried to concentrate on the exercise show but found no solace in spandex tights. He rose and turned off the TV. He went to the kitchen and put his coffee in the sink. Outside the window the hummingbirds went about their business, shimmering in the morning sun. A sense of urgency came over him. It became suddenly very important to get to his workshop and finish his latest carving. Time seemed as fleeting and fragile as the little birds. In his younger days he might have met the feeling with a naive denial of his own mortality. Age had given him a different defense, and his thoughts returned to the image of he and the wife going to bed together and never waking, their lives and memories going out all at once. This too, he knew, was a naive fantasy. When the wife got home he was going to give her hell for going away, he knew that for sure. Before unlocking his workshop he set the alarm on his watch to go off at lunchtime. If he worked through lunch he might miss his nap. There was no sense in wasting the day just because the wife was out of town. When the knock came on his workshop door, Effrom thought at first that the wife had come home early to surprise him with lunch. He ground out his cigarette in an empty toolbox that he kept for that purpose. He blew the last lungful of smoke into the exhaust fan he had installed â€Å"to take out the sawdust.† â€Å"Coming. Just a minute,† he said. He revved up one of his high-speed polishing tools for effect. The knocking continued and Effrom realized that it was not coming from the inside door that the wife usually knocked on, but from the one leading out into the front yard. Probably Jehovah's Witnesses. He climbed down from his stool, checked the pockets of his corduroys for quarters, and found one. If you bought a Watchtower from them, they would go away, but if they caught you without spare change, they would be on you like soul-saving terriers. Effrom threw the door open and the young man outside jumped back. He was dressed in a black sweatshirt and jeans – rather casual, Effrom thought, for someone carrying the formal invitation to the end of the world. â€Å"Are you Effrom Elliot?† he asked. â€Å"I am.† Effrom said. He held out his quarter. â€Å"Thanks for stopping by, but I'm busy, so you can just give me my Watchtower and I'll read it later.† â€Å"Mr. Elliot, I'm not a Jehovah's Witness.† â€Å"Well, I have all the insurance I can afford, but if you leave me your card, I'll give it to the wife.† â€Å"Is your wife still alive, Mr. Elliot?† â€Å"Of course she's alive. What did you think? I was going to tape your business card to her tombstone? Son, you're not cut out to be a salesman. You should get an honest job.† â€Å"I'm not a salesman, Mr. Elliot. I'm an old friend of your wife's. I need to talk to her. It's very important.† â€Å"She ain't home.† â€Å"Your wife's name is Amanda, right?† â€Å"That's right. But don't you try any of your sneaky tricks. You ain't no friend of the wife or I'd know you. And we got a vacuum cleaner that'd suck the hide off a bear, so go away.† Effrom started to close the door. â€Å"No, please, Mr. Elliot. I really need to speak to your wife.† â€Å"She ain't home.† â€Å"When will she be home?† â€Å"She's coming home tomorrow. But I'm warning you, son, she's even tougher than I am on flimflam men. Mean as a snake. You'd be best to just pack up your carpetbag and go look for honest work.† â€Å"You were a World War One veteran, weren't you?† â€Å"I was. What of it?† â€Å"Thank you, Mr. Elliot. I'll be back tomorrow.† â€Å"Don't bother.† â€Å"Thank you, Mr. Elliot.† Effrom slammed the door. His angina wrenched his chest like a scaly talon. He tried to breathe deeply while he fingered a nitroglycerin pill from his shirt pocket. He popped it into his mouth, and it dissolved on his tongue immediately. In a few seconds the pain in his chest subsided. Maybe he would skip lunch today, go right to his nap. Why the wife kept sending in those cards about insurance was beyond him. Didn't she know that â€Å"no salesman will call† was one of the three great lies? He resolved again to give her hell when she got home. When Travis got back into the car, he tried to hide his excitement from the demon. He fought the urge to shout â€Å"Eureka!† to pound on the steering wheel, to sing hallelujah at the top of his lungs. It might finally be coming to an end. He wouldn't let himself think about it. It was only a long shot, but he felt closer than he ever had to being free of the demon. â€Å"So, how's your old friend?† Catch said sarcastically. They had played this scene literally thousands of times. Travis tried to assume the same attitude he always had when faced with those failures. â€Å"He's fine,† Travis said. â€Å"He asked about you.† He started the car and pulled away from the curb slowly. The old Chevy's engine sputtered and tried to die, then caught. â€Å"He did?† â€Å"Yeah, he couldn't understand why your mother didn't eat her young.† â€Å"I didn't have a mother.† â€Å"Do you think she'd claim you?† Catch grinned. â€Å"Your mother wet herself before I finished her.† The anger came sliding back over the years. Travis shut off the engine. â€Å"Get out and push,† he said. Then he waited. Sometimes the demon would do exactly what he said, and other times Catch laughed at him. Travis had never been able to figure out the inconsistency. â€Å"No,† Catch said. â€Å"Do it.† The demon opened the car door. â€Å"Lovely girl you're going out with tonight, Travis.† â€Å"Don't even think about it.† The demon licked his chops. â€Å"Think what?† â€Å"Get out.† Catch got out. Travis left the Chevy in drive. When the car started moving, Travis could hear the demon's clawed feet cutting furrows in the asphalt. Just one more day. Maybe. He tried to think of the girl, Jenny, and it occurred to him that he was the only man he had ever heard of who had waited until he was in his nineties before going on his first date. He didn't have the slightest idea why he had asked her out. Something about her eyes. There was something there that reminded him of happiness, his own happiness. Travis smiled.