Marketing channel proposal for bank of America Essay

Marketing channel proposal for bank of America - Essay Example This research will begin with the statement that marketing channels are important to a firm’s distribution objectives. The first is specialization and the second is contractual efficiency. The principle of specialization refers to the assignment of distribution tasks to firms that possess the necessary expertise. The paper presents the opening a 200 branch retail network embedded within the BS network. The marketing channel has two important parts: the physical distribution structure that moves a product from the manufacturer to the consumer or user and the consequent marketing structure that is established as a part of the channel of distribution to ensure the manufacturer that all marketing objectives are accomplished. The primary marketing objective of Bank of America is to profitably reach as many potential consumers of their products as soon as possible. The bank branch remains a viable and important delivery channel for retail banking customers and is the primary locatio n for new product sales. The Bank of America still expresses a need for the traditional bank branch. The advantages of a retail bank branch are security, branch business productivity and continuity, financial transactions, risk management, compliance with new regulations and preserving customer trust by building customer trust. Moreover, a bank branch can implement multiple sales promotions the whole year through sales contests and incentives; and special promotional deals (e.g., discounts offered during a specified period of time). Pull promotions are directed at end-use customers and are designed to encourage them to request a product from channel members such as wholesalers, retailers, or both. OPTION II. Utilising an internet only channel for its current account product. An internet only channel is an electronic marketing channel which enables clients to use banking and other financial services by employing various information technologies with no need for a direct contact with a bank clerk. This electronic banking is faster, better and cheaper.Bank of America can build a whole marketing strategy around high technology and quality. The issue of quality is a goal and a bond among all corporate functions. To exploit commitment opportunities, the bank can preempt its competitors. The business, however, has to be especially wary of environmental changes that can erode the value of its early investments. Size is beneficial only when there are compelling advantages to being large, such as economies of scale, scope, or experience. Advantages through preferred access to resources, information, or customers can give a business a sustainable advantage that is independent of Bank of America will inform their clients of the time schedule within which they can order individual services and the time of execution of orders for each individual state-of-the-art electronic marketing channel. Consequently, there will be trade-offs. Greater convenience increases security risks, and greater complexity reduces convenience. OPTION III. Adoption of the current MBNA model which focuses on the telephone as the core channel for its credit card, loans and insurance services. The challenge for banks is to create value and to retain control over their customers. Telephone service is crucial for banks. Telephone service enables wire transfers, automated clearing house transactions, automated teller machine transactions and inquiries, remote processing, and teller terminals located in branches but connected to an off-site host computer. It also fosters the numerous bank functions that rely on voice connections. However, the telephone as a core service and marketing channel for the bank suffers from specific weaknesses. One, when there is no electricity, there is no telephone service. Second, telephone outages which result from natural disasters can cut off bank transactions for a given period of time. In order to improve customer service, the bank can offer

The Stepping Stones of Labor in America Essay Example for Free

The Stepping Stones of Labor in America Essay Throughout time, in all places, there is an upper class and a lower class. During the 16th to 19th century in America people came from all over Europe. People from Europe found America as an escape from their life; a new start. Some could not afford to take a boat ride across the Atlantic with their whole family. Because of this, some people became indentured servants. Later on, the South revolutionized America by bringing in black slaves and getting rid of indentured servitude. Slaves generated the economy for the South, but was also the main cause of the civil war. Both slaves and indentured servants were treated badly, however, black slaves were much more expensive and had to work for life, whereas indentured servants worked for a reward. Both the indentured servants and black slaves did very similar agricultural work. They were treated dreadfully and were not able to change their employer. They didnt get to choose what labor they did and they were not able to own the product from their labor. Black slaves were captured in Africa and brought on boats to come to America. A lot of black slaves didnt make it to America because of sickness and diseases on the boat. Indentured servants were often forced to go with their owner or were kidnapped and put on ships, where the boats were unsanitary. During this time in America there was too much land for the amount of people so when they servants and slaves were brought over they had to sustain the crops and the fields. They worked long hours in the cold winters and in the brutal summer days in the fields. Both the indentured servants and black slaves were scarred mentally for being taken from their families and coming to a new land. They were physically beaten if they tried to escape or didnt do their work well. Sometimes they were beaten without a reason. Both groups were treated badly and couldnt do anything about it. Indentured servants had a certain amount of time they had to work to get a reward so they had more motivation for becoming free and had hope during tough times whereas black slaves were forced into labor for their whole life and didnt have any hope to escape. After the indentured servants had did their time depending how long their contract was, they were given money, land and often a sustainable job. Black slaves were permanently slaves and didnt have as much hope as indentured servants because they had no family and they knew that they were stuck living their life the way it was forever. Also, indentured servants often had learned some economically valuable skills, so when their contract was up, they were more prepared for the outside world, while black slaves were not usually and were not let out. Indentured servants were slaves and dehumanized during their time of their contract, but often had a better life because of what they learned from being a servant and their reward. While both slaves and servants typically did similar work, slaves were bought and put into work whereas indentured servants signed a contract and the owner didnt give up any money value until the end of contract. During this time the cost of a black slave was about 130,000 dollars. This was a lot higher because this is when there was no more indentured servitude and the Souths economy relied on black slaves for cotton. Paying 130,000 dollars for a slave seems like a bad investment, but they got the slaves for life and the slaves could reproduce and have more slaves in the future. The biggest reason why black slaves were a better investment was that they were permanent and were with the owner forever or could be sold whereas white servants were short term and had to give up land and money in the land. Indentured servants were like a loans; youd get them and at the end you would have to give up some money. Black slaves were worth so much more at the time then indenture servants and because of this indentured servants no longer existed. The ultimate purpose of slaves and indentured servants are identical, however, the conditions on which they worked was completely different. Slaves had no hope for any freedom unless they risked the danger of escaping while indentured servants would one day be free from their masters, once they fulfilled there contracts which stated how long they would work for. Slaves were worth a lot more money and helped generate the economy for the South. Eventually indentured servitude disappeared and slavery had become one of the biggest forms of labor in America. While indentured servitude had little impact in the making of America, slavery become one of the most controversial issues of the 1800s, and the issues over racial discrimination which had started in America in the 1600s, would continue on into the mid-twentieth century.

Personal Ecology :: Creative Writing Essays

Personal Ecology A deep desire to cry. The hanging, haunting chant of Gordon Comes at Night, waves of sweat crystallizing on the skin, loosened joints, unfolded from the lodge into the cold night air. Wiped clean, nothing to say. Reach inside for a voice, a meaning, the distance between the earth and the moon in its fullness. Which orbits which? For a year I sat in the only seat that was not part of the circle. "Me" is still a long way off. Each stanza seems a step in a different direction. For predictive value I wear my lapis necklace, just now Blackfeet-blessed. Gil will become a soulmate but for the time being he is just there. The one I adore I can barely speak to, can barely reach, although he is the nexus of my system. Letting go is a skill. But for all the growth, movement, experience—for all that, I learn, there is loss. Dances and costumes and heart-pounding drumbeats of the powwow hold the mind in temporary suspense. Men of the tribal council give away blankets, toys, dollar bills, scarcely affordable tokens of an amicable nature. I am at peace, but I feel raw, the agony of a first love and an ideal whose flaws I can never know. There is garbage everywhere on the reservation, but people leave an offering of tobacco when they pick sage or sweetgrass—a love and a hate of the land where I expected only love. I gather refuse wherever I go because work is the only sure way to avoid long awkward pauses. This fear—perhaps it is inherited, perhaps it just rubbed off on me, but it is a legacy of my mother. Pause is earned, the awe of an eagle feather pressed into the hands, the return for the playground we build. Gil works just as hard and so we work side by side, joined in this practice of leaving a record behind. Community has many meanings. Even now I know that the real beauty, the real friendship, will come later, when words can supplant presence. But I am still here, you know, extracting something and leaving something behind. If I rub my necklace I can sense the continuity with no center. Practice of leaving a record behind The possibility of a recipe. Our Ahtna friends cook a feast of fresh salmon and banok, fry bread.

Unilever Business Manual

Also the organization has set objectives that needs to be achieved. Goals of Milliner (termed â€Å"The compass Milliner strategy for sustainable growth†): ; This clearly outlines their vision for the future where their brands and services will be used all over the world thereby doubling the size of Milliner ; Decreasing damage caused to the environment and impacting society positively. Another aspect of this also includes improvement in the way of life of people in areas such as health, food, annotation, and opportunities within societies ; Combining its multinational competence with Milliner's strong relationship in various cultures to provide a wide range of products to satisfy a range of users and also building strong relationships in new markets which will be of significance in the future growth of Milliner. ; â€Å"Achieving significant growth objectives while decoupling growth from environmental and increasing our positive social impact is a bold but challenging vision † Milliner 1 CEO Paul Pullman.Milliner's mission can be put into key points: Proving a daily better future for all. ; Helping personal image with Milliner's brands and services ; To be an inspiration in taking action to benefit the world ; Doubling the size of its business ; Developing its products further to work towards its goal of doubling the size of its business ; Limiting environmental impact through innovation and developing effective and efficient ways to reach people Primary and Secondary goals On 1 5th November 2010 Milliner announced its plans of sustainability by or before 2020.These goals include: Acquiring 100% of its agricultural raw materials from sustainable sources. ; Improving hygiene for one million people in Asia, Africa, and Latin America through the usage of ‘lifebuoy' soap thereby reducing diarrhea which is a large cause of infant mortality. ; Making safe water available though their low-cost water purifier called Purest which is produced in India and distributed to a half billion people across the world. ; Improving the living conditions of people in developing countries by collaborating with organizations such as Oxford.

The Host Chapter 44: Healed

â€Å"Wanda†¦Ã¢â‚¬  â€Å"We don't have time. I'd do it myself, but I can't get the angle right. There's no other way.† â€Å"I don't think I can†¦ do it.† â€Å"For Jamie, even?† I pushed the good side of my face as hard as I could against the headrest of the passenger seat and closed my eyes. Jared was holding the rough fist-sized stone I'd found. He'd been weighing it in his hand for five minutes. â€Å"You just have to get the first few layers of skin off. Just hide the scar, that's all. C'mon, Jared, we have to hurry. Jamie†¦Ã¢â‚¬  Tell him I said to do it now. And make it a good one. â€Å"Mel says do it now. And make sure you do it hard enough. Get it all the first time.† Silence. â€Å"Do it, Jared!† He took a deep breath, a gasp. I felt the air move and squeezed my eyes tighter. It made a squishing sound and a thud-that was the first thing I noticed-and then the shock of the blow wore off, and I felt it, too. â€Å"Ungh,† I groaned. I hadn't meant to make any sound. I knew that would make it worse for him. But so much was involuntary with this body. Tears sprang up in my eyes, and I coughed to hide a sob. My head rang, vibrated in aftershock. â€Å"Wanda? Mel? I'm sorry!† His arms wrapped around us, pulled us into his chest. â€Å"‘S okay,† I whimpered. â€Å"We're okay. Did you get it all?† His hand touched my chin, turned my head. â€Å"Ahh,† he gasped, sickened. â€Å"I took half your face off. I'm so sorry.† â€Å"No, that's good. That's good. Let's go.† â€Å"Right.† His voice was still weak, but he leaned me back into my seat, settling me carefully, and then the car rumbled beneath us. Ice-cold air blew in my face, shocking me, stinging my raw cheek. I'd forgotten what air-conditioning felt like. I opened my eyes. We were driving down a smooth wash-smoother than it should have been, carefully altered to be this way. It snaked away from us, coiling around the brush. I couldn't see very far ahead. I pulled the visor down and flipped open the mirror. In the shadowy moonlight, my face was black and white. Black all across the right side, oozing down my chin, dripping across my neck, and seeping into the collar of my new, clean shirt. My stomach heaved. â€Å"Good job,† I whispered. â€Å"How much pain are you in?† â€Å"Not much,† I lied. â€Å"Anyway, it won't hurt much longer. How far are we from Tucson?† Just then, we reached pavement. Funny how the sight of it made my heart race in panic. Jared stopped, keeping the car hidden in the brush. He got out and removed the tarps and chains from the bumper, putting them in the trunk. He got back in and eased the car forward, checking carefully to make sure the highway was empty. He reached for the headlights. â€Å"Wait,† I whispered. I couldn't speak louder. I felt so exposed here. â€Å"Let me drive.† He looked at me. â€Å"It can't look like I walked to the hospital like this. Too many questions. I have to drive. You hide in the back and tell me where to go. Is there something you can hide under?† â€Å"Okay,† he said slowly. He put the car into reverse and pulled it back into the deeper brush. â€Å"Okay. I'll hide. But if you take us somewhere I don't tell you to go†¦Ã¢â‚¬  Oh! Melanie was stung by his doubt, as was I. My voice was flat. â€Å"Shoot me.† He didn't answer. He got out, leaving the engine running. I slid across the cup holders into his seat. I heard the trunk slam. Jared climbed into the backseat, a thick plaid blanket under his arm. â€Å"Turn right at the road,† he said. The car was an automatic, but it had been a long time and I was unsure behind the wheel. I moved ahead carefully, pleased to find that I remembered how to drive. The highway was still empty. I pulled out onto the road, my heart reacting to the open space again. â€Å"Lights,† Jared said. His voice came from low on the bench. I searched till I found the switch, then flicked them on. They seemed horribly bright. We weren't far from Tucson -I could see a yellowish glow of color against the sky. The lights of the city ahead. â€Å"You could drive a little faster.† â€Å"I'm right at the limit,† I protested. He paused for a second. â€Å"Souls don't speed?† I laughed. The sound was only a tad hysterical. â€Å"We obey all laws, traffic laws included.† The lights became more than a glow-they turned into individual points of brightness. Green signs informed me of my exit options. † Take Ina Road.† I followed his instructions. He kept his voice low, though, enclosed as we were, we could both have shouted. It was hard to be in this unfamiliar city. To see houses and apartments and stores with signs lit up. To know I was surrounded, outnumbered. I imagined what it must feel like for Jared. His voice was remarkably calm. But he'd done this before, many times. Other cars were on the road now. When their lights washed my windshield, I cringed in terror. Don't fall apart now, Wanda. You have to be strong for Jamie. This won't work if you can't do that. I can. I can do it. I concentrated on Jamie, and my hands were steadier on the wheel. Jared directed me through the mostly sleeping city. The Healing facility was just a small place. It must have been a medical building once-doctors' offices, rather than an actual hospital. The lights were bright through most of the windows, through the glass front. I could see a woman behind a greeting desk. She didn't look up at my headlights. I drove to the darkest corner of the parking lot. I slid my arms through the straps of the backpack. It wasn't new, but it was in good shape. Perfect. There was just one more thing to do. â€Å"Quick, give me the knife.† â€Å"Wanda†¦ I know you love Jamie, but I really don't think you could use it. You're not a fighter.† â€Å"Not for them, Jared. I need a wound.† He gasped. â€Å"You have a wound. That's enough!† â€Å"I need one like Jamie's. I don't know enough about Healing. I have to see exactly what to do. I would have done it before, but I wasn't sure I'd be able to drive.† â€Å"No. Not again.† â€Å"Give it to me now. Someone will notice if I don't go inside soon.† Jared thought it through quickly. He was the best, as Jeb had said, because he could see what had to be done and do it fast. I heard the steely sound of the knife coming out of the sheath. â€Å"Be very careful. Not too deep.† â€Å"You want to do it?† He inhaled sharply. â€Å"No.† â€Å"Okay.† I took the ugly knife. It had a heavy handle and was very sharp; it came to a tapered point at the tip. I didn't let myself think about it. I didn't want to give myself a chance to be a coward. The arm, not the leg-that's all I paused to decide. My knees were scarred. I didn't want to have to hide that, too. I held my left arm out; my hand was shaking. I braced it against the door and then twisted my head so that I could bite down on the headrest. I held the knife's handle awkwardly but tightly in my right hand. I pressed the point against the skin of my forearm so I wouldn't miss. Then I closed my eyes. Jared was breathing too hard. I had to be fast or he would stop me. Just pretend it's a shovel opening the ground, I told myself. I jammed the knife into my arm. The headrest muffled my scream, but it was still too loud. The knife fell from my hand-jerking sickeningly out from the muscle-and then clunked against the floor. â€Å"Wanda!† Jared rasped. I couldn't answer yet. I tried to choke back the other screams I felt coming. I'd been right not to do this before driving. â€Å"Let me see!† â€Å"Stay there,† I gasped. â€Å"Don't move.† I heard the blanket rustling behind me despite my warning. I pulled my left arm against my body and yanked the door open with my right hand. Jared's hand brushed my back as I half fell out the door. It wasn't a restraint. It was comfort. â€Å"I'll be right back,† I coughed out, and then I kicked the door shut behind me. I stumbled across the lot, fighting nausea and panic. They seemed to balance each other out-one keeping the other from taking control of my body. The pain wasn't too bad-or rather, I couldn't feel it as much anymore. I was going into shock. Too many kinds of pain, too close together. Hot liquid rolled down my fingers and dripped to the pavement. I wondered if I could move those fingers. I was afraid to try. The woman behind the reception desk-middle-aged, with dark chocolate skin and a few silver threads in her black hair-jumped to her feet when I lurched through the automatic doors. â€Å"Oh, no! Oh, dear!† She grabbed a microphone, and her next words echoed from the ceiling, magnified. â€Å"Healer Knits! I need you in reception! This is an emergency!† â€Å"No.† I tried to speak calmly, but I swayed in place. â€Å"I'm okay. Just an accident.† She put the microphone down and hurried around to where I stood swaying. Her arm went around my waist. â€Å"Oh, honey, what happened to you?† â€Å"So careless,† I muttered. â€Å"I was hiking†¦ I fell down the rocks. I was†¦ cleaning up after dinner. A knife was in my hand†¦Ã¢â‚¬  My hesitations seemed like part of the shock to her. She didn't look at me with suspicion-or humor, the way Ian sometimes did when I lied. Only concern. â€Å"You poor dear! What's your name?† â€Å"Glass Spires,† I told her, using the rather generic name of a herd member from my time with the Bears. â€Å"Okay, Glass Spires. Here comes the Healer. You'll be fine in just a moment.† I didn't feel panicked at all anymore. The kindly woman patted my back. So gentle, so caring. She would never harm me. The Healer was a young woman. Her hair, skin, and eyes were all a similar shade of light brown. It made her unusual looking-monochromatic. She wore tan scrubs that only added to that impression. â€Å"Wow,† she said. â€Å"I'm Healer Knits Fire. I'll get you fixed up directly. What happened?† I told my story again as the two women led me down a hallway and then through the very first door. They had me lie down on the paper-covered bed. The room was familiar. I'd been in only one place like this, but Melanie's childhood was full of such memories. The short row of double cabinets, the sink where the Healer was washing her hands, the bright, clean white walls†¦ â€Å"First things first,† Knits Fire said cheerfully. She pulled a cabinet open. I tried to focus my eyes, knowing this was important. The cabinet was full of rows and rows of stacked white cylinders. She took one down, reaching for it without searching; she knew what she wanted. The small container had a label, but I couldn't read it. â€Å"A little no pain should help, don't you think?† I saw the label again as she twisted the lid off. Two short words. No Pain? Was that what it said? â€Å"Open your mouth, Glass Spires.† I obeyed. She took a small, thin square-it looked like tissue paper-and laid it on my tongue. It dissolved at once. There was no flavor. I swallowed automatically. â€Å"Better?† the Healer asked. And it was. Already. My my head was clear-I could concentrate without difficulty. The pain had melted away with the tiny square. Disappeared. I blinked, shocked. â€Å"Yes.† â€Å"I know you feel fine now, but please don't move. Your injuries are not treated yet.† â€Å"Of course.† â€Å"Cerulean, could you get us some water? Her mouth seems dry.† â€Å"At once, Healer Knits.† The older woman left the room. The Healer turned back to her cabinets, opening a different one this time. This, too, was filled with white containers. â€Å"Here we are.† She pulled one from the top of a stack, then took another from the other side. Almost as if she were trying to help me fulfill my mission, she listed the names as she reached for them. â€Å"Clean-inside and out†¦ Heal†¦ Seal†¦ And where is†¦ ah, Smooth. Don't want a scar on that pretty face, do we?† â€Å"Ah†¦ no.† â€Å"Don't worry. You'll be perfect again.† â€Å"Thank you.† â€Å"You're very welcome.† She leaned over me with another white cylinder. The top of this one came off with a pop, and there was an aerosol spray nozzle underneath. She sprayed my forearm first, coating the wound with clear, odorless mist. â€Å"Healing must be a fulfilling profession.† My voice sounded just right. Interested, but not unduly so. â€Å"I haven't been in a Healing facility since insertion. This is very interesting.† â€Å"Yes, I like it.† She started spraying my face. â€Å"What are you doing now?† She smiled. I guessed that I was not the first curious soul. â€Å"This is Clean. It will make sure nothing foreign stays in the wound. It kills off any of the microbes that might infect the wound.† â€Å"Clean,† I repeated to myself. â€Å"And the Inside Clean, just in case anything has snuck into your system. Inhale this, please.† She had a different white cylinder in her hand, a thinner bottle with a pump rather than an aerosol top. She puffed a cloud of mist into the air above my face. I sucked in a breath. The mist tasted like mint. â€Å"And this is Heal,† Knits Fire continued, twisting the cap off the next canister, revealing a small pouring spout. â€Å"It encourages your tissues to rejoin, to grow the way they should.† She dribbled a tiny bit of the clear liquid into the wide cut on my arm, then she pushed the edges of the wound together. I could feel her touch, but there was no pain. â€Å"I'll seal this up before I move on.† She opened another container, this one a pliable tube, and then squeezed out a line of thick, clear jelly onto her finger. â€Å"Like glue,† she told me. â€Å"It holds everything together and lets the Heal do its job.† She wiped it over my arm in one swift pass. â€Å"Okay, you can move that now. Your arm is fine.† I held it up to look. A faint pink line was visible under the shiny gel. The blood was still wet on my arm, but there was no source anymore. As I watched, the Healer cleaned my skin with one quick pass of a damp towel. â€Å"Turn your face this way, please. Hmm, you must have hit those rocks just exactly wrong. What a mess.† â€Å"Yes. It was a bad fall.† â€Å"Well, thank goodness you were able to drive yourself here.† She was lightly dripping Heal onto my cheek, smearing it with the tips of her fingers. â€Å"Ah, I love to watch it work. Looks much better already. Okay†¦ around the edges.† She smiled to herself. â€Å"Maybe one more coat. I want this to be erased.† She worked for a minute longer. â€Å"Very nice.† â€Å"Here's some water,† the older woman said as she came through the door. â€Å"Thank you, Cerulean.† â€Å"Let me know if you need anything more. I'll be up front.† â€Å"Thanks.† Cerulean left. I wondered if she was from the Flower Planet. Blue flowers were rare-one might take a name from that. â€Å"You can sit now. How do you feel?† I pulled myself up. â€Å"Perfect.† It was true. I hadn't felt so healthy in a long time. The sharp shift from pain to ease made the sensation more powerful. â€Å"That's just how it should be. Okay, let's dust on a little Smooth.† She twisted the last cylinder's top and shook an iridescent powder into her hand. She patted it into my cheek, then patted another handful onto my arm. â€Å"You'll always have a small line on your arm,† she said apologetically. â€Å"Like your neck. A deep wound†¦Ã¢â‚¬  She shrugged. Absentmindedly, she brushed the hair back from my neck and examined the scar. â€Å"This was nicely done. Who was your Healer?† â€Å"Um†¦ Faces Sunward,† I said, pulling the name from one of my old students. â€Å"I was in†¦ Eureka, Montana. I didn't like the cold. I moved south.† So many lies. I felt a twist of anxiety in my stomach. â€Å"I started out in Maine,† she said, not noticing anything amiss in my voice. As she spoke, she cleaned the blood from my neck. â€Å"It was too cold for me, too. What's your Calling?† â€Å"Um†¦ I serve food. In a Mexican restaurant in†¦ Phoenix. I like spicy food.† â€Å"Me, too.† She wasn't looking at me funny. She was wiping my cheek now. â€Å"Very nice. No worries, Glass Spires. Your face looks great.† â€Å"Thank you, Healer.† â€Å"Of course. Would you like some water?† â€Å"Yes, please.† I kept a grip on myself. It wouldn't do to bolt the glass down the way I wanted to. I wasn't able to stop myself from finishing it all, though. It tasted too good. â€Å"Would you like more?† â€Å"I†¦ yes, that would be nice. Thank you.† â€Å"I'll be right back.† The second she was out the door, I slid off the mattress. The paper crackled, freezing me in place. She didn't dart back in. I had only seconds. It had taken Cerulean a few minutes to get the water. Maybe it would take the Healer just as long. Maybe the cool, pure water was far away from this room. Maybe. I ripped the pack off my shoulders and wrenched the drawstrings open. I started with the second cabinet. There was the stacked column of Heal. I grabbed the whole column and let it clatter quietly into the bottom of my pack. What would I say if she caught me? What lie could I tell? I took the two kinds of Clean next, from the first cabinet. There was a second stack behind the first of each, and I took half of those, too. Then the No Pain, both stacks of that. I was about to turn back for the Seal, when the label of the next row of cylinders caught my attention. Cool. For fevers? There were no instructions, just the label. I took the stack. Nothing here would hurt a human body. I was sure of that. I grabbed all the Seal and two cans of Smooth. I couldn't press my luck any further. I closed the cabinets quietly and threw my arms through the straps of the pack. I leaned against the mattress, making another crackle. I tried to look relaxed. She didn't come back. I checked the clock. It had been one minute. How far away was the water? Two minutes. Three minutes. Had my lies been as obvious to her as they were to me? Sweat started to dew up on my forehead. I wiped it away quickly. What if she brought back a Seeker? I thought of the small pill in my pocket, and my hands shook. I could do it, though. For Jamie. I heard quiet footsteps then, two sets, coming down the hall.