By the time Sunday rolled around, Susannah’s feelings regarding Micah had grown even more complicated. He’d shown up the second day with a fresh haircut but the same born-to-be-wild attitude. Her dat was happy with his work, but Susannah was growing increasingly uneasy around him. Micah reminded her of a wild horse temporarily corralled. It was only a matter of time before he broke out and then his grandparents would be heartbroken and her dat would be in need of another helper.
She spent much of the service praying that God would forgive her uncharitable feelings and clear the confusion in her mind. Since her dat was the bishop, she was aware that she was scrutinized more closely than others.
So even as her mind wandered toward Micah, she kept her attention on the person preaching.
When it was time to pray, she closed her eyes and petitioned her heavenly Father for clarity.
When it was time to sing, she stood and raised her voice with the others around her.
And as soon as the service ended, she hurried toward the serving area, not pausing to give their new neighbor a second glance. She worked at filling cups with water and lemonade. When she saw Micah walking toward her, she quickly changed tables to help with salads. It wasn’t that she was avoiding him, but he would simply want to tell her more about Maine, a subject she’d heard quite enough about. When she finally had a few free moments, she snagged Deborah.
“Care to walk out into the pasture?”
“I can think of nothing I’d rather do.” Deborah jumped up from her seat and grabbed her sweater from the big bag she carried around. Deborah was the only Amish person Susannah knew who carried what amounted to a baby bag though she had no baby. It was sometimes quite amazing what Deborah could pull out of that bag.
“Tell me about Micah,” Deborah said as soon as they were out of earshot of the others.
“What’s to tell?”
“Does he seem to be behaving himself?”
“Dat hasn’t complained.”
“I’m not surprised. Your father is the bishop. Of course Micah would be on his best behavior around him.”
“Ya, I suppose.”
“Betty heard that Micah had an alcohol problem when he was living in Maine. That’s why his parents sent him here.”
“Alcohol?”
“Or maybe it was drugs... She wasn’t really sure.”
Susannah sighed and pressed her lips together.
“You might as well say it,” Deborah teased.
“Then I would be as bad as Betty.”
“Oh. So you don’t want to be a gossip, which you would be if you pointed out that Betty is a gossip.”
That was such a convoluted statement that it made Susannah laugh, which helped her relax a little. “I guess I was thinking that Betty has been somewhat bitter since Joshua left the faith.”
“And left her for an Englisch girl. I saw them in South Bend the other day.”
“At the college?”
“Ya. They looked...um...close. Arms wrapped around each other. Kissing in public.” Deborah made a wide-eyed, somewhat disgusted expression.
“Your dat is still consulting at the college?”
“He is. Their agriculture students want to know all about our Plain and simple ways.”
Which caused them both to laugh.
“Perhaps they should come help in the fields—then they’d really understand.”
“They’re actually going to do that sometime in the next few weeks.”
“Seriously?”
“Uh-huh.”
“You’re going to have Englischers traipsing around in your fields?”
“We are.”
“Maybe we should send Micah over. He seems to speak their language.”
They’d made it to the corner of the property where Mose King had made a bench out of a felled tree. After checking that there were no critters hiding beneath it, they both sat down and studied the scene in front of them.
Most of the women and a good number of the men were spread out in chairs under the trees.
Boys of all ages were playing baseball, with a few of the men standing on the edge of the ball field, providing sideline advice.
The younger children were in a play area that Mose had made for his own children. It looked like a school playground. There was a seesaw, a swing set and even a sandbox that he kept covered with a tarp when it wasn’t being used.
Susannah thought that playground was a sign of something—thoughtfulness, adoration, maybe devotion. “Mamm thinks Mose would make a gut husband.”
“I’m sure he would...for someone his own age.”
“Ya, my sentiments exactly.”
“That’s another thing I heard about Micah. He was apparently dating an older woman—who he dumped, and according to the grapevine, that wasn’t the first relationship that he broke off for no reason.”
“There’s always a reason.”
“I suppose.”
“It’s kind of sad that we’re so interested in everything he did wrong there.”
“Are you defending him?”
“Not at all. It’s only that... Well, Mamm reminded me that everyone deserves a fresh start. Don’t they?”
Deborah pulled her skirt up an inch or so and proceeded to pull stickers from her socks. “I guess. The only thing is that I’d rather these people who need a fresh start get it somewhere else.”
Which pretty accurately mirrored Susannah’s thoughts, though somehow, spoken out loud, they sounded rather judgmental and unfair.
“What do you mean?”
“I guess I was thinking that what Micah Fisher does in Maine is his own business, but what he does here... Well, here he stands to hurt other people with his actions.”
“Meaning what?”
Deborah shrugged and pretended to look for something in her purse. Susannah put her hand on top of the bag and left it there until her friend looked up.
“What aren’t you telling me?”
“Apparently Micah sneaked out of his house on Friday night and met up with Caroline Byers.”
“I have trouble believing that’s true. He’s been here less than a week. How could he—”
“I heard it from Caroline herself. She said it was harmless. Said they just happened to be downtown at the same time to hear a local band, but Betty heard them talk about meeting up again on Thursday.”
Susannah had at least a dozen questions, but none of them really mattered. Most of them were none of her business. She settled for asking, “Her parents let her do that?”
“Nein. She sneaked out. Are you even paying attention?”
“I am now.” Susannah jumped up, crossed her arms and paced back and forth in front of Deborah. “Caroline is young and impressionable. I can see how she’d fall for someone like Micah in a second, but I’m not sure that’s a gut idea.”
“Finally.”
“Finally what?”
“Finally you’re paying attention and concerned. I mean, the guy practically lives at your house. Maybe you could say something to him.”
“I’m not sure that I could, or even that I should.”
Deborah began to fiddle with her kapp strings, something she only did when she was holding back.
“What else?”
“Well...one of the boys claimed they saw him smoking.”
“He doesn’t smell like smoke, and I should know... He’s eaten with us three times now.”
“There was also talk of his carrying a flask in the back pocket of those blue jeans and...you know...taking a sip now and again.”
Susannah flopped back down beside Deborah. “I don’t know if I’m more aggravated about the gossip—”
“Unless it’s true.”
“—or Micah’s behavior.”
That sat between them a few minutes until Susannah realized they needed to start back to help put out a snack for the children. It was nearly three in the afternoon and some of them would be going down for a nap soon.
They were halfway toward the main group when Deborah asked, “Are you going to talk to your dat?”
“Nein. He wouldn’t want to hear about it unless it was something I saw myself. He has no patience for gossip.” She turned abruptly so that Deborah nearly bumped into her. “If anyone else talks to you about Micah, about his behavior, you tell them to come to my dat directly. Dat will speak to him, but only if the report is a firsthand account.”
“Okay. I should have done that to begin with. I guess I was a bit stunned by it all.”
“Understandable, but now that we know about his reputation we need to take steps to protect our freinden.”
“What kind of steps?”
“Well, I can keep a closer eye on him when he’s at our farm. I can certainly watch for the smoking and drinking.”
“I doubt that he’s likely to do either of those things around your dat.”
“But there would be signs, and I just don’t...” She looked toward the picnic tables, where she should be helping. Instead, she tugged on Deborah’s arm and pulled her in the opposite direction. “It’s just that I don’t want him to be unfairly judged. He seems like a gut guy, just a bit lost.”
“Reminds me of my bruder when he was on his rumspringa.”
“Exactly.”
“Only Elias was seventeen at the time.”
“And Micah is twenty-five.”
A shout rose up from the baseball field, where none other than Micah had apparently hit a home run and was jogging around the bases to the cheers of all watching.
Susannah pinched the bridge of her nose and squeezed her eyes shut. After taking a deep breath and letting it slowly out, she tried to shake off the feeling of trepidation. It was a beautiful Sunday afternoon, and so far at least, Micah had done nothing against their Ordnung—at least nothing she’d witnessed.
“We’ll give him a fair chance but keep our eyes on him.”
“Sounds reasonable.” Deborah nodded so hard that her kapp strings bounced.
“And above all else, we’ll make sure that he doesn’t set his ball cap at any of the girls in our group.”
“Like Betty.”
“Or Caroline or any of the other girls we’ve grown up with. The ones who aren’t married... Well, some of them are too quick to fall in with a guy.”
“Their biological clocks are going ticktock.”
“Exactly.”
Deborah tucked her arm through Susannah’s. “The good part is that he’s not planning on staying, from what I’ve heard.”
“He said as much to me, as well. Hopefully he can serve his time at his daddi’s and then go home to break hearts.”
“Gut idea. We don’t need any of that sort of drama around here.”
Which echoed what Susannah had been thinking. Personally, she’d experienced enough tragedy in the last few years with her cancer diagnosis, treatment and the breakup with Samuel. She knew firsthand what it was like to have your dreams ripped away, to have your heart shredded to the point that it felt raw. If she had anything to do with it, that would not be happening to her friends. Even if it meant she had to take matters into her own hands.
The following Thursday, Micah had finished shoeing a dappled gray mare under the watchful gaze of Thomas. Then the bishop had been called off to visit with one of the old-timers who had taken a turn for the worse, and before Micah knew it, he was being babysat by Susannah.
“I can take the man’s money and put it in the box.”
“What man?”
“The man who owns the mare.”
“Yes, but you don’t even know the man’s name. Mr. Hochstettler has been bringing his horses here since I was a kind. Dat likes for our customers to have personal service.”
“They’re Amish. Where else are they going to go to have their horses cared for?”
“Not the point, according to Dat. The point is that we treat every customer as if we value their business—which we do.”
“Fine. I didn’t remember the man’s name, but you could tell me that and leave.”
“Do you know the mare’s name?”
“Nein and what difference does that make? Are you going to tell me that the mare needs to feel valued, too?”
“Of course she needs to be valued. Have you ever owned a mare?”
“Never needed to. I had my parents’ buggy horses to use in Maine, and I have my grandparents’ here.”
“But one day you’ll be a man with your own family and your own horses.” Susannah had been grooming the mare, which definitely did not fall under the services of shoeing a horse in Micah’s opinion. She stopped what she was doing and pointed the brush at him. “When you have your own horses, you’ll understand why it’s important to appreciate them and treat them with respect.”
Micah rolled his eyes and then started laughing. He couldn’t help it.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Just say it.”
“You couldn’t even see over that horse if you weren’t standing on a crate, and yet you’re lecturing me.”
“What does being short have to do with anything?”
Micah raised his hands in surrender, but he continued to laugh. Most days Susannah aggravated him, especially when she reminded him of his nagging sisters. But then, other times, he caught a glint of mischievousness in her eyes, and he wondered what else was going on underneath her perfectly starched kapp.
“Say, I’m thinking about asking Caroline Byers to this weekend’s spring festival in town. What do you think?”
“Terrible idea.” Susannah resumed brushing the mare, but much more vigorously.
“Why’s it terrible?”
Now her lips were forming a tight, straight line, as if they’d been glued together. He knew that expression well enough.
“Just say it. What’s the problem?”
“She’s too young for you, that’s what!” Susannah brushed the mare so vigorously that it turned its large muzzle toward her. “Sorry, Smokey.”
“Smokey?”
“That’s her name. If you’d bothered to find out, you would know that.”
“You seem awfully cranky all of a sudden.”
“I’m not cranky!” She jumped off the crate, cleaned the horse brush with a metal tool and slammed it onto the tool shelf. Next she picked up the currying comb, which looked somewhat dangerous the way she was brandishing it in his direction. “Pick a girl your age, Micah.”
“Wow. Okay. Well, I hadn’t thought of it that way, but I guess I see your point. How about Betty Gleich?”
Susannah closed her eyes as if praying for patience and shook her head so hard he feared her kapp would pop off.
“What’s wrong with Betty? I know for a fact she’s over twenty-one.”
“She’s twenty-two, and she just went through a rather rough breakup.”
“What does that have to do with me?”
“Did you not say only twenty minutes ago that you only had—and I quote—one hundred and seventy days left in this awful place?”
“Sounds like something I might have said.”
“Obviously you hate it here.”
“You don’t understand. If you’d been to Maine, then you’d appreciate how much more beautiful it is than your much-loved Indiana. If you could experience the hunting, the fishing, the wildness of the place. It’s just—”
“You’d be in your precious Maine right this minute if you hadn’t been banished.”
“Ouch.”
“Again—your word, not mine.”
“Fine.” He named off four other perfectly eligible girls, all of whom Susannah disapproved of him dating for the most ridiculous reasons and sometimes for no reason she’d share at all.
His mounting frustration was threatening to get the better of him. He tried to mentally order himself to calm down, but the way Susannah was frowning at him was not helping matters. “What is your problem?”
“My problem?”
“You know, I don’t need your permission to date someone, but now I’m curious. What’s your beef?”
“Beef?”
“Apparently I’m not gut enough for any of the gals in your district.”
“It’s not a question of whether you’re gut enough for them.”
“Then what?”
“You’re leaving, that’s what. You’re leaving, and they’ll get attached to you, and then it will hurt them when you go.”
“I’m not proposing to them, Susannah. I’m asking them out on a buggy ride.”
“One thing leads to the other.”
Micah threw up his hands and walked out of the farrier shop. The sky was dark and brooding, a perfect reflection of his mood. Well, Susannah Beiler was not the boss of him. He could ask out whomever he liked.
He stomped back in to tell her that and caught her with her cheek pressed against the mare, a look of utter desolation in her eyes. Now he felt like a heel, and he didn’t even know what he’d done.
“Hey...it’s not that bad.”
She stood up straighter, gave the mare one last pat and returned the crate to its place along the wall.
“You can’t expect a guy to hang around for six months and not go on a single date. Surely you can see that.”
“Why?”
“Why? Because it’s not natural.”
“There’s nothing wrong with being alone, Micah.”
“Maybe not for you, but I haven’t decided I want to be single the rest of my life—apparently you have.”
“This discussion isn’t about me.”
Now her chin rose as if she needed to defend herself—oh, the many faces of Susannah Beiler. If she ever came down from her high horse, she might be an interesting person to get to know.
“Look, I’m sorry.” He yanked off his hat and stared at it—a straw Amish hat. Why couldn’t he wear his ball cap? Glancing up, he realized Susannah was waiting. He forced himself to refocus on the problem at hand. “I didn’t mean to offend you, but you’re so...”
“What?”
“Serious. You’re so serious, and life is just waiting for us to enjoy it.” In three long strides, he was at her side. Grasping her by the shoulders, he marched her toward the open barn door. “See that? The clouds and the rain and the turbulence?”
“I see it.”
“But behind all of that are more things that we can’t begin to imagine—sunshine and new experiences and memories waiting to be made. Life is out there, Susannah. We’re supposed to be living it.”
“And you can’t do that without dragging some poor girl along with you?”
“Why should I?”
Susannah rubbed at her forehead as if she’d quite suddenly been slapped with the worst headache imaginable. Finally, she pulled in a deep breath and turned to stare up into his face.
“Then take me.”
“Huh?”
“If you must take someone on these jaunts around our little town, take me.”
“But...you don’t even like me.”
“That’s beside the point.”
“No, I think that is the point.”
“You’re not looking for love, Micah. We both know that. You’re looking for a buddy to pal around with, and there are plenty of men your age in our district.”
“All paired up. I’ve already tried that route.”
“Then take me, like I said.”
“You’re going to pal around with me? Miss Susannah Beiler, who does everything by the book? That should be a load of fun.”
“I do not do everything by the book.”
“You cleaned the horse brush before putting it on the shelf. Who does that?”
“You’re changing the subject. Is it a deal or not?”
“A deal?”
“I go with you to enjoy life, and you leave the girls in my district alone.”
“Wow. There’s a proposal that is hard to turn down.”
“So it’s a deal.”
She held out her hand, which reminded him of meeting her out on the lane, offering his hand and her refusing it. He couldn’t help laughing as he clasped her small hand in his large one.
“Fine. It’s a deal, but you’re going to regret it.”
“I have no doubt that is true.” And then she turned and strode toward the house.
“I thought you needed to be here when Mr. Hochstettler came by,” he called out to her.
Rather than bothering to answer, she simply gave him a backward wave.
So, he was going to date the bishop’s daughter.
Or rather, not date her.
It would be like having a chaperone along every time he went to town. He kicked the door of the barn, startling the mare.
“Easy, Smokey. It’s just me, doing a stupid thing to top off another stupid thing.”
One hundred and seventy days.
Somehow, that seemed like an even longer stretch of time than it had an hour ago.
Susannah went with Micah to hear a music duo on Friday. She had to resist the urge to remind him that they were Amish and their Ordnung strongly discouraged listening to worldly music. But she didn’t have to point that out. Micah taunted her with it as soon as they were in the buggy and driving away from her parents’ farm.
“Guess your mamm and dat didn’t want you to go tonight.”
“Why would you say that?”
“First of all, because it’s with me.”
“For reasons I can’t fathom, my parents have taken a real liking to you.”
“Huh.” He looked pleased for a brief moment, but then he slouched his shoulders and rammed his hat down on his head. “Wish I could say the same for my daddi.”
“I’m sure your daddi likes you.”
“Nein. He might love me. He’s supposed to love me, but like me? I’m pretty sure that isn’t the case.”
“Why would you say that?”
“A guy can tell.”
“Give me an example.”
“Okay.” He pulled the buggy out onto the main road, then glanced at her and smiled, as if he was sure he could prove his point—even though his point was that his own daddi didn’t like him. “I asked him to go fishing, and he said no.”
“Maybe he was tired.”
“I asked him to play checkers, and he said no.”
“Maybe he’s not good at checkers and hates losing.”
“I even asked him if he’d like to walk outside with me and see an owl’s nest that I found.”
“Maybe he doesn’t like owls.”
Micah laughed, stretched like a cat and looked immensely proud of himself. “Enough about my problems, but admit that your parents did not like the idea of your going to an Englisch concert.”
Susannah shrugged and refused to make eye contact.
“Oh, my gosh. You never had a rumspringa!”
She shook her head and closed her eyes. He really was incorrigible. She wasn’t about to explain that she’d been going through her cancer diagnosis and treatment when her friends were enjoying their running-around time.
“I hit the nail on the head. I knew they didn’t approve of your going to hear Jason Wright and the Red River Posse band.”
“What does that even mean? Red River Posse?”
“Well, a posse is a group of individuals who are sort of deputized. You know, they help out the sheriff.”
“And Red River?”
“In Texas.”
“And Jason Wright?”
“I think it’s a play on the word right, like being right, not wrong.”
“Ridiculous.”
“Uh-huh.” Now he did looked pleased. “Just as I thought. You’re going to hate it.”
“I might not hate it. I happen to like music.”
“You do?”
“Sure. I’ve been known to hum a melody as I sew.”
“What kind of melody?”
“Uh...the only kind I know. Songs from church.” She rushed on when he gave her an I-told-you-so look. “That’s not the point. Did you specifically pick this to do tonight because you thought I’d hate it? Are you trying to—” she waved a hand at the passing roadside “—ditch me?”
“Oh, no. You’re not getting out of this that easily by saying that I’m trying to ditch you. Uh-uh. I’m not ditching anyone. I’m glad that the bishop’s daughter is having a night out on the town. Besides, you’re my only option if I’m not allowed to date anyone else.”
“I’m not the boss of you, Micah.”
“Exactly. But you know how to put the pressure on, just like a woman.”
“Oh, good grief.”
“So if I’m being pressured not to date other girls in your community, then you have to stick to our deal.”
“Fine by me.”
They rode in silence for a minute, but then Micah returned to his original question. “So, were your parents upset...about where we were going?”
“Nein. I’m a grown woman. I can go wherever I want.”
“But you’ve already joined the church.”
“Which doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy an evening in the park.”
“Uh-huh.”
“If a band happens to be playing, there’s no rule that says I have to cover my ears.”
“I see.”
“It’s not like I have a radio hidden away in my sewing room.”
“Already I’m corrupting you.”
She slapped his arm, but in truth it was a relief to get away from the farm for an evening. It had been a long time since she’d done something that didn’t involve her family or her girlfriends or her sewing. She loved all those things, but it felt good to do something different. Maybe Micah was a bad influence or maybe he could be for some people, but she would be more careful than that. She had decided not to worry about anything this evening.
She actually had fun at the park. There were booths set up where people were selling homemade items like jewelry and T-shirts and even ball caps. Micah put one over her kapp that was pink and had the word Princess spelled out in glitter. Susannah told the woman it was beautiful and carefully placed it back on the table.
The local pizzeria had a booth where they were selling giant slices, but Micah insisted on buying a large pizza. Susannah couldn’t remember the last time she’d eaten two slices of pizza, but when Micah dared her to eat another piece she actually found she was still hungry. Maybe it was from all the walking around they’d done.
And the music wasn’t so bad. They saw a few other Amish families enjoying the fine May evening, though none were actually sitting up front listening to the band like they were. She waved each time she saw someone from their district.
“What’s wrong?” Micah nudged his shoulder against hers. “I rather liked that song. It was all about bull riding, which I saw once in Maine. Maybe you’d prefer love songs.”
“Oh, it’s not that. I waved at the Kings.”
“Mose King? Isn’t he the one you told me was a widower? The guy your mamm wants you to marry? Point him out to me. I want to see if he has hair sprouting out of his ears and uses a cane.”
She slapped his arm. “Not Mose, his brother and sister-in-law—Frank and Ida. I waved when they looked toward us, but they turned away as if they didn’t see me.”
“They probably didn’t see you.” Micah nodded his head to the left and right. “Lots of people here.”
“I guess you’re right.”
He pulled back and widened his eyes in mock surprise. “Excuse me? Could you say that again?”
Which made her laugh, and then she stopped worrying about the Kings.
Susannah helped her mother clean their house the next day. Since it wasn’t a church weekend, they were having dinner for their closest neighbors—which would include Micah and his grandparents.
“I’m interested to see how they react around him,” she confessed to her mother as she dumped the pail of dirty water on the flower beds.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, according to Micah, his mammi is strict but kind.”
“Abigail is a gut woman.”
“But his daddi is beyond strict. Micah says he doesn’t think his daddi cares for him very much.”
“Why would he say such a thing?”
Susannah shrugged, then plopped down beside her mother in the porch swing. The twins were playing with a set of jacks on the far side of the porch. The sight of their heads nearly touching as they leaned over the jacks and ball made Susannah extremely happy. Was it just two years ago that she was worried she wouldn’t see them grow up to be young girls? Yet, here they were. She was thankful for that, for every day she had with her family.
“Where’d you go?” her mamm asked softly.
“Just thinking about how grateful I am to still be alive.”
“I thank the Lord for that very thing every day when I rise and every evening when I go to sleep. It’s a frightening experience to almost lose a child.”
Susannah cornered herself in the swing so she could study her mother. “I guess it’s easy for me to forget how hard that time was on you.”
“That’s the thing... When tragedy is in our past we do forget about it, but it changes us, Susannah. Just like you are a more serious young woman—a more grateful and mature one—because of your illness. I’m changed, too, as is your dat. We realize more than we ever did before how precious each day is.”
They pushed the swing for a while as the girls’ laughter spilled toward them. Susannah’s mind drifted back toward Micah and his grandfather. As if sensing the turn in her thoughts, her mamm stood up and brushed dirt off her apron. “John Fisher loves Micah. I have no doubt about that. I didn’t know him before the accident...”
“The one where he lost his arm?”
“Ya. I didn’t know him then, but I imagine it changed him just as your experience with cancer changed you. We can never know how a person’s path through this life twists and turns. We only know where they are right now. But John? Well, it’s been hard for him.”
“Because of his disability.”
“That and probably how strangers look at him—no one wants to be pitied.”
“I hated when people looked at me that way—when I was going through the worst of the chemo.”
“John has endured those looks all of his life. People mean well, but sometimes they allow your disability to define you, and none of us want that.” She reached for Susannah’s hand and pulled her off the swing. As they walked inside to prepare lunch, she added a final comment on the subject. “John does love Micah. Abigail has shared with me that they are both worried about the boy, and John intends to do his best by him. Sometimes that’s not an easy thing.”
That evening Micah took her moonlight fishing. As they walked across the back fields to the pond, Susannah felt as light as one of the swallows darting through the last of the sunset. She realized in that moment that she felt happy, really happy for the first time in a long time. Glancing at Micah, she wondered if that had anything to do with him.
But that thought was ridiculous.
It wasn’t Micah that was changing the way she looked at things.
But it could be that doing things she wasn’t used to—going to the park and listening to bands and fishing in the moonlight—was pulling her out of a lingering depression that had started when she’d first been diagnosed.
“Tell me you’re not thinking of changing your mind.” Micah shifted the backpack across his shoulders. “I even brought Mammi’s cookies and coffee.”
“I’m not going to change my mind, but I don’t believe we’ll catch anything. You can’t fish by moonlight.”
“Can, too.”
“How do you know if you’ve caught anything?”
Micah reached into his pocket and pulled something out. As he shook his closed fist, she heard a jingle sound.
Pulsuz fraqment bitdi.