23
Going Home
After we passed through the gate, I turned to watch the land of Shangri-la vanish in a swirl of color. The red light that pulsed in the handprint faded, and the spirit gate returned to its former appearance— two tall wooden poles with long strings of prayer flags blowing in the breeze.
I blinked several times and rubbed my eyes lightly. Something was sticking to my lashes. I carefully peeled away a transparent green film, which had slipped off each eye like a pair of contact lenses.
Kishan appeared to be stuck in tiger form and probably would be for a while like Ren had been after Kishkindha. He blinked his eyes at me, and I could see the green film peeling away from one eye.
“Hold very still. I’ve got to get this out or it will bother you the whole way.”
I lifted the film off one eye and then the other. It took a long time, but I was proud I could do it at all. The Ocean Teacher had said that as we exited Shangri-la the scales would fall from our eyes, and we could see the real world again. I didn’t expect his words would be this literal.
I adjusted the backpack over my shoulders and began the steep descent back to Mr. Kadam’s camp. The sun was shining, but it was still cold. I felt the same burning energy pushing me forward. I wouldn’t stop to rest, though Kishan clearly wanted me to. I encouraged him to keep going and stopped only when it was too dark to see the landscape.
Since Hugin had helped me get my thoughts unstuck, my mind had become limpid, clear. I calculated and devised a plan. I knew how to save Ren. The only thing I didn’t know was where to find him. I hoped that Mr. Kadam would know something about the culture or the whereabouts of the people we had seen in the vision.
The physical features I’d taken note of might not be enough for him to go on, but it was all we had. If anyone could figure out where to begin searching, it was Mr. Kadam. I also hoped that time had stood still, or at least slowed, while we were in Shangri-la. I was sure that Ren would be tormented every moment he was with Lokesh. It was unbearable thinking of him being in pain at all, let alone for the many days we’d spent in the world beyond the spirit gate.
I lay awake in our tent that night for a long while thinking about my strategy and analyzing it from as many angles as I could. I would not allow Lokesh to take anyone else. There would be no trades for Ren. We were going to save him and all of us would be going home.
The next morning, Kishan woke and changed to a man. I quickly had snow gear made for him, and he dressed in the tent while I got some breakfast together. He soon joined me dressed in his new clothes: a rust colored base-layer shirt that fit tightly under a black waterproof jacket, black pants with elastic cuffs, warm insulated gloves, thick wool socks, and snow boots. I appraised his appearance and congratulated myself on doing a good job.
We discovered that recovering the Scarf had given Kishan another six hours of freedom from his tiger self. We were now halfway finished with our quest. The tigers could take human form for twelve hours of the day.
Though I was in a hurry, Kishan reminded me that it would take us at least two full days to hike down the mountain. When we made camp the second night, I decided it was time to talk to him about my rescue plan and show him what else the Scarf could do.
After we’d settled in our tent, conveniently made by the Scarf, I unzipped my sleeping bag and spread it on the floor. I encouraged him to sit across from me, before I picked up the Scarf.
“Okay, the Scarf can do several things. It can become or create anything made of fabric or natural fibers. It doesn’t have to reabsorb what it creates. It can, but it can also leave the thing behind, and then the creation loses the magic of the cloth. The Scarf can also be shaped to gather the winds like in the story of the Japanese god ’s bag. The third thing it can be used for is . . . changing appearance.”
“Changing appearance? What do you mean?”
“Umm, how do I describe it? Have you ever seen a magician pull a rabbit out of a hat or change a bird into a feather?”
“We did have magicians come to court occasionally. One of them changed a mouse to a dog.”
“Yes! It’s similar to that. It’s an illusion. A trick done with light and mirrors, sort of.”
“How does that work?”
“Remember the Divine Weaver said there was power in the weaving? It not only creates the clothes of that person, but it can make you look like him or her as well. The key is, you have to be specific and capture in your mind exactly who you want to look like. I’m going to try it. Watch and tell me if it works.”
I said, “Disguise, please—Nilima.”
The Scarf grew into a long piece of sparkly black fabric with colors swirling quickly through the entire piece. It glittered as if embellished with jeweled sequins that surfaced briefly and then disappeared. Light reflected and moved around the tent like thousands of prisms shooting rainbows in every direction.
I wrapped the fabric around my body and covered my entire frame, including my hair and face. My skin became warm and tingly. The swirling colors were iridescent and lit the dark small space in which I sat wrapped inside the warm blanket the Scarf had become. It was like watching my own personal laser light show. When the glow diminished, I unwrapped myself and looked at Kishan.
“Well?”
His mouth opened in shock. “Kells?”
“Yep.”
“You . . . you even sound like Nilima. You’re dressed like her.”
I looked down and found I was wearing a powder-blue silk dress that ended at my knees. My legs were bare. “I just realized that. I’m freezing!”
Kishan wrapped his coat around me then picked up my hand and examined it. “Your skin looks like hers. You even have her long painted nails. Unbelievable!”
I shivered. “Okay, demonstration done. I am seriously freezing.” I wrapped the fabric around me again and said, “Back to myself, please.” The colors began swirling again and after a long minute I removed the material and returned to looking like myself. “Now you try, Kishan. I didn’t have a mirror. I want to see how accurate it is.”
“Okay.” He took the Scarf from me and said, “Disguise— Mr. Kadam.”
He wrapped it around his entire body. When he took the fabric off a minute later, I found myself sitting across from Mr. Kadam. He looked exactly like I had last seen him. I stretched out a finger and touched his short beard.
“Wow! You really look like him!” I felt the hem of his pants. “The pants feel real. It’s a perfect replica!”
He touched his face and rubbed a hand over his close-cropped hair.
I said, “Wait a minute! You’ve even got his amulet on! Does it feel real?”
He touched the amulet and felt the chain. “It looks real, but it’s not.”
“What do you mean?”
“I wore an amulet for most of my life, and when I gave you mine to wear, I could feel its absence. This one doesn’t feel real to me. It doesn’t feel powerful. Also it’s lighter in weight, and the surface is slightly different.”
“Hmm, that’s interesting. I don’t know that I can really feel the power of mine yet.”
I reached over and touched the amulet around his neck and then compared it to mine. “I think the one you are wearing is made of some kind of fabric.”
“Really?” He rubbed it between his fingers. “You’re right. The surface is slightly off. You really can’t feel the amulet’s power?”
“No.”
“Well, if you wore it for as many years as I did, you would feel it.”
“Maybe it’s something only you tigers can feel because you’re so closely associated with it.”
“Maybe. We’ll have to ask Mr. Kadam about it.”
Kishan changed back to himself. “So what exactly is your plan, Kells?”
“Well, I haven’t hammered out all the details yet, but I was thinking that maybe we could impersonate Lokesh’s guards and sneak into wherever they’re holding Ren.”
“You don’t plan to make a trade then? An amulet for Ren?”
“Not if we can avoid it. I’d like it to be a last resort. The big problem with the plan is that I don’t know where Ren is being held. I told you I saw Ren in the vision, but I also saw a person that I’m really hoping Mr. Kadam can identify.”
“Identify how?”
“His hair and tattoos were unique. I’ve never seen them before.”
“It’s a long shot, Kells. Identifying where the servant is from doesn’t necessarily mean that that’s where Lokesh is holding Ren.”
“I know, but it’s all we have to go on.”
“Okay, so we have a how. We just need a where.”
“Right.”
The next day, we finally passed the snow line and continued moving quickly downhill. Kishan had slept as a tiger so he walked with me as a man for most of the day, which gave us the opportunity to talk. He said that he felt stifled being forced back into the tiger form. Like Ren, now that he’d gotten a taste of being human, he craved it desperately.
I tried to remind him that twelve hours was much better than six. He could sleep as a tiger and spend most of his waking hours as a man now, but he still complained about it.
During a lull in the conversation, I said, “Kishan?”
He grunted as he slid downhill a bit on loose gravel. “Yeah?”
“I want you to tell me everything you know about Lokesh. Where did you meet him? What is he like? Tell me about his family, his wife, his background. All that stuff.”
“Okay. To start off, he didn’t come from a royal bloodline.”
“What do you mean? I thought he was a king.”
“He was, but he didn’t start off that way. The first time I met him, he was a royal advisor. He had moved up quickly to a position of authority. When the king died unexpectedly without any progeny, Lokesh stepped into the king’s position.”
“Huh, probably an interesting story there. I would love to hear the tale of his ascent to power. Did everyone just accept him as the new king? Were there any protests?”
“If there were, he quickly snuffed out any malcontents and went about building up a powerful army. That kingdom had always been very peaceful, and we’d never had a problem with them until Lokesh took power. Even then, he was always very careful around my family.
“Minor skirmishes broke out between our armies, which he always claimed he had no knowledge of. We now think that he was gathering intelligence because the skirmishes always occurred in key military areas. He dismissed them as minor misunderstandings and assured us that he would reprimand the survivors.”
“Survivors? What do you mean?”
“The skirmishes often resulted in the deaths of his soldiers. He used his soldiers like disposable tools. He demanded their loyalty, and they gave it—even to the point of death.”
“And nobody in your family ever suspected anything?”
“If anyone suspected him, it was Mr. Kadam. He was head of the military at the time, and he felt that there was more going on than soldiers misunderstanding their orders. Nobody else suspected Lokesh, though. Lokesh was very charming when he visited. He always assumed a humble demeanor around my father, but all the while he was coldly calculating our downfall.”
“What weaknesses does Lokesh have?”
“I think he knows more of my weaknesses than I of his. I imagine he abused Yesubai. According to him, his wife had died long before we met him. Yesubai never spoke of her mother, and I never thought to ask. As far as I know, he has no family left, no posterity, unless he took another wife over the years. He craves power. That could be a weakness.”
“Does he crave money? Could we offer to buy Ren’s freedom?”
“No. He uses money only as a means to get more power. He couldn’t care less about jewels or gold. He might say differently, but I wouldn’t trust him. He’s an ambitious man, Kelsey.”
“Do we know anything about the other pieces of the amulet? Like where he got them from?”
“The only thing I know about the amulet is what my parents told us. They said that the amulet pieces were carried by five warlords and were handed down over the centuries. My mother’s family had one piece, and my father’s family had another. That’s how Ren and I each got one. The one you wear was Mother’s, and Kadam wears Father’s. I have no idea how Lokesh acquired the other three pieces. I’d never heard of any other amulet pieces until Lokesh mentioned them. Ren and I wore our pieces under our clothing as carefully protected family heirlooms.”
“Maybe Lokesh found a list of the families who had been entrusted with them?” I pondered.
“Maybe. But I’ve never heard of such a list.”
“Did your parents know the amulets were powerful?”
“No. Not until we were changed to tigers.”
“You didn’t have an ancestor who lived a long time like Mr. Kadam?”
“No. Our family was prolific on both sides. There was always a young king to pass the amulet to, and in our family, tradition was to pass on the amulet when the boy turned eighteen. Our ancestors had longer lives than normal, but the life span then was considerably shorter than it is today.”
“Unfortunately, none of this information gives us an inkling as to any of Lokesh’s weaknesses.”
“Perhaps it does.”
“How so?” I asked.
“He craves power above all else. Since he is pursuing the amulet pieces at all costs, then that is his weakness.”
“What do you mean?”
“We just saw the Scarf create a replica when I assumed Mr. Kadam’s form. If he takes the replica version, he’ll think that he’s won.”
“But we don’t know if the replica can be removed from the person or not. Even if it could be, we don’t know how long it will last.”
Kishan shrugged and said, “We’ll test it when we get back.”
“It’s a good idea.”
I stumbled over a rock, and Kishan caught me. He held me for just a moment longer than necessary, smiled, and brushed the hair out of my face.
“We’re almost there. Can you keep going or do you need to rest?” he asked intently.
“I can keep going.”
He released me and took the backpack from my shoulders.
“Kishan, I just want to say thank you for everything you did in Shangri-la. I wouldn’t have made it without you.”
He threw the backpack over one shoulder and stopped, considering me for a minute. “You didn’t think I’d let you go alone, did you?”
“No, but I’m grateful that I had you with me.”
“Grateful is all I’m going to get, isn’t it?”
“What else were you hoping for?”
“Adoration, devotion, affection, infatuation, or just plain finding me irresistible.”
“Sorry, Don Juan. You’ll have to live with my undying gratitude.”
He sighed dramatically. “I guess that’s as good a place to start as any. How about we just call it even. I never actually thanked you for convincing me to come home. I’ve . . . found a lot of things about being home that I like.”
I smiled at him. “It’s a deal.”
He put his arm across my shoulders, and we continued our hike.
“I wonder if we’ll come across that old bear again,” Kishan mused.
“If so, I should be able to keep him away this time. I didn’t think to use my power when we first ran into him. Apparently, I’m not much of a warrior.”
“You fought the birds really well.” He grinned. “I’d ride into battle with you any time. Let me tell you about the time I left my sword at home.” He kissed my forehead and remembered happier times.
At dusk, we could see a small fire in the distance at the base of the mountain. Kishan assured me that it was Mr. Kadam’s camp. He said he could smell him on the breeze. He held my hand the last half mile because he said he could see better in the dark than I could—but I suspected that wasn’t the only reason. When we got closer, I could just make out Mr. Kadam’s shadow inside the tent.
I approached the tent and said, “Knock. Knock. Any room in there for a couple of wandering strangers?”
The shadow moved, and the tent’s zipper slid down.
“Miss Kelsey? Kishan?”
Mr. Kadam stepped outside and grabbed me in a big hug. Then he turned to clap Kishan on the back.
“You must be freezing! Come inside. I’ll make some hot tea. Let me just get a kettle to put on the fire.”
“Mr. Kadam, you don’t have to do that. We have the Golden Fruit, remember?”
“Ah, yes, I forgot.”
“And we have something else too.”
I took the amethyst-colored Scarf from around my neck, which caused it to shift to turquoise. “Soft cushions please, and could you make the tent just a bit larger?” I asked.
The turquoise threads immediately shifted and stretched. Several of them wove large cushions of various colors and another piece broke off and began looping through the end of the tent. A few moments later, we were able to sit comfortably on large cushions in a tent that had doubled in size. Mr. Kadam quietly watched the busy threads, in fascination.
I struggled briefly to get out of my coat. Kishan helped and stroked my arm. I shoved his hand away, but Kishan only grinned and reclined on the cushions.
Mr. Kadam asked, “Does it work like the Golden Fruit except it creates woven things?”
I shot Kishan a warning look and replied, “Sort of, yeah.”
Mr. Kadam mumbled, “‘India’s masses shall be robed.’”
“Huh, I guess we could clothe India’s people with this thing.”
Funny that that hadn’t occurred to me before.
“Wait a minute. Didn’t the prophecy say something about ‘chief’s disguise’ too?”
Mr. Kadam rummaged through some papers and found a copy of the prophecy.
“Yes. It says here, ‘Discus routs and ‘chief’s disguise can stave off those who would pursue’. Is that what you’re referring to?”
I laughed. “Yep, that makes sense then. You see, the Divine Scarf can do a couple of other things too. I mean other than making clothes and weaving things. It can gather the winds like the god ’s bag.”
Mr. Kadam exclaimed, “Similar to the bag of winds Odysseus received from Aiolos? Ulysses’ leather bag tied with a silver cord?”
“Yes, but it’s not leather. Silver cord would work, though.”
“Perhaps sent by one of the gods of wind? Vayu? Striborg? Njord? Pazuzu?”
“Don’t forget Boreas and Zephyrus.”
Kishan interrupted, “Could you two speak English, please?”
Mr. Kadam laughed. “Sorry. I got carried away for a minute.”
“Do you want to show him now, Kishan?” I asked.
“Sure.”
Mr. Kadam leaned forward. “Show me what, Miss Kelsey?”
“You’ll see. Just watch.”
Kishan took the Divine Scarf, mumbled, “Disguise,” and twisted it around his body. It lengthened and turned black with swirling colors.
“I want to see if it will work without me saying a name out loud like the Golden Fruit does,” he said from beneath the folds of fabric.
“Yes. That’s a good idea,” I responded.
When Kishan took the Scarf away from his face, I was unprepared for what I’d see. It was Ren. He’d taken Ren’s form. He must have seen my stricken face.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t want to shock Mr. Kadam by showing him his own face.”
“It’s okay. Just change back quickly, please.”
He did, and Mr. Kadam sat there dumbfounded. I couldn’t speak. Seeing Ren sitting there—even knowing it was really Kishan— was extremely difficult. I had to tamp down all the emotions that surfaced.
Kishan quickly took over for me and explained, “With the Scarf, we can take the form of other people. Kelsey changed to look like Nilima, and I became you. We need to test its range and try different forms so we can figure out the Scarf’s disguise abilities and limitations.”
“Simply . . . amazing!” Mr. Kadam sputtered, “Uh, Kishan, may I?”
“Sure.”
He tossed the Scarf to Mr. Kadam. Its colors changed as soon as his fingers touched the fabric, first turning a brown mustard color and then changing to olive green.
I teased, “I think it likes you, Mr. Kadam.”
“Yes, well . . . imagine the possibilities. The many people the Golden Fruit and this glorious fabric could help. So many people suffer from want of food and warm clothes, and not just in India. These are truly divine gifts.”
I let him examine the Scarf while I had the Golden Fruit make us some chamomile tea with cream and sugar. Kishan wasn’t especially fond of tea, so he got a hot chocolate with cinnamon and whipped cream instead.
I asked, “How long were we gone?”
“A bit over a week.”
I quickly calculated in my mind how many days we were up on the mountain. “Good. Our time in Shangri-la didn’t count.”
“How long were you two in Shangri-la, Miss Kelsey?”
“I’m not sure exactly, but I think it was almost two weeks.” I looked at Kishan. “Is that about right?”
He nodded silently and sipped his cocoa.
“Mr. Kadam, how soon can we get going?”
“We can leave at dawn.”
“I want to get home as soon as possible. We need to get ready to save Ren.”
“We can go across the border and enter India from the Sikkim province. It will be much faster than going through the Himalayas again.”
“How long?”
“It depends on how fast we get through the border. If there’s no trouble, perhaps a few days.”
“Okay. We have so much to tell you.”
Mr. Kadam sipped his tea and looked at me thoughtfully. “You have not been sleeping well, Miss Kelsey. Your eyes are tired.”
He made eye contact with Kishan, and then set down his cup. “I think we should let you sleep. We have a long journey ahead and much can be discussed on the road.”
“I agree,” Kishan interjected. “These last few days have been hard on you. Get some rest, bilauta.”
I finished my tea. “I guess I’m outnumbered. Fine. Let’s all get some sleep then, and we can leave that much earlier in the morning.”
I used the Scarf to make another bedroll and pillows for all of us. I fell asleep to the quiet sound of Mr. Kadam and Kishan speaking softly in their native language.
The next day, we began our journey home. We made it past customs and then drove about halfway home before stopping at a hotel in Gaya. We took turns driving and napping in the back. Kishan got a turn, but Mr. Kadam kept an eye on him, still smarting about the wreck with the Jeep in India.
While we drove, we told Mr. Kadam all about our journey. I started with Mount Everest and the bear. Kishan talked about carrying me through the spirit gate and hiking through paradise.
Mr. Kadam was fascinated by the Silvanae and asked dozens of questions. While I drove, he took copious notes. He wanted to keep a detailed record of our journey, and he listened carefully and wrote page after page in his refined style of penmanship. He asked many specific questions about the tests of the four houses and about the iron-bird guardians, nodding as if he had expected this or that to occur.
At the hotel, we sat around a table and showed him the pictures Kishan took of the ark of Noah, the world tree, the Silvanae, and the four houses. The visual record helped us remember more details, and Mr. Kadam pulled out his notebook again and began scribbling.
Kishan showed me the camera and asked, “What is that?”
I turned it different ways and laughed. “It’s one of Hugin’s eyes. See? There’s the nest.”
Kishan flipped through some more. “Why didn’t you take a camera into Kishkindha?”
I shrugged but Mr. Kadam explained, “I didn’t want to burden her with too many heavy objects. She needed water and food.”
Kishan grunted and said, “I’m definitely getting a copy of this one, apsaras rajkumari.”
He handed the camera to me. It was the one of me in the gossamer gown with fairies “hair clips.” I looked like a princess with glowing skin and bright eyes. My hair hung in soft waves down my back, and I could just make out a pink fairy peeking around a lock of hair to see my face. Mr. Kadam looked over my shoulder.
“You look quite becoming, Miss Kelsey.”
Kishan laughed. “You should have seen her in person. Quite becoming is an understatement.”
Mr. Kadam chuckled and went to get his bag from the car.
Kishan rested a hip against the table. He cupped his hands, brought up a knee, and looked at me with a serious expression. “In fact, I’d say that I’ve never seen anything more beautiful.”
I shuffled my feet nervously. “Well, it’s always startling when someone gets a makeover. A fairy makeover would be all the rage at the salons.”
He gently took my elbow and turned me toward him. “The makeover is not what made you beautiful. You are always beautiful. The makeover just accentuated what was already there.” He lifted my chin with a finger, and looked into my eyes. “You are a lovely woman, Kelsey.”
Kishan put his warm hands on my bare arms and rubbed them lightly. He tugged me closer. His eyes darted down to my mouth. As he lowered his lips to within inches of mine, I deliberately pressed my hands against his chest and admonished, “Kishan.”
“I like the way you say my name.”
“Please let me go.”
He lifted his head, sighed, and said softly, “Ren . . . is a lucky, lucky man.”
He reluctantly slid his hands from my arms and then stepped over to the window.
I busied myself by gathering toiletries and pajamas. Kishan watched me quietly for a minute, and then announced, “I think I need a makeover too. A hot shower is calling my name.”
Still nervous, I said, “Yeah. Me too. A hot shower is going to feel heavenly.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Would you like to go first?”
“No, you go ahead.”
His eyes twinkled as he regarded me, “It would be more heavenly if you told me you wanted to conserve water.”
My mouth opened in shock. “Kishan!”
He winked at me. “I didn’t think so. Can’t blame a guy for trying.”
I was saved from responding by Mr. Kadam’s return.
By the second day, Mr. Kadam and I had compared notes on the vision of Lokesh. He had noticed the tattooed servant helping Lokesh too, and he thought his appearance was distinct enough to track down where the man was from. Mr. Kadam had also planned to discreetly investigate Lokesh’s office in Mumbai.
The air was so muggy outside that we probably could have filled our water bottles just by hanging them out the window. We passed temples with golden cupolas and busy people working in their fields, drove over swollen rivers and through flooded roads, but all I could think about was getting back to Ren. In fact, the only thing that interrupted my thoughts of Ren was Kishan.
Something had changed between us in Shangri-la, and I didn’t quite know what to do about it. Spending all those weeks with Kishan didn’t help. He was moving past flirting and was starting to make serious overtures. I had hoped that he would lose interest.
Originally, I had thought that the more he got to know me, the less he would like me. But I seemed to have the opposite effect on him. I did love him, but not in the same way he felt about me. I’d learned to rely on and trust him. He’d become a good friend, but I was in love with his brother. If I had gotten to know Kishan before Ren, things might have been different. But I hadn’t.
Thoughts kept nagging at me as we drove. Was it just luck that I met Ren first? That we had the opportunity to fall in love? What if Kishan had followed me to America and not Ren? Would I have made a different choice?
The truth was that I didn’t know. Kishan was a very attractive man, both outside and in. There was something about him, something that would make a girl want to wrap her arms around him and keep him forever. He was lonely. He was searching for a home, for someone to love him, like Ren was. He needed someone to take him in and let the wandering, lost tiger rest. I could easily envision that person being me. I could see myself falling in love with him and being happy with him.
But then I thought about Ren who had the same qualities that I loved about Kishan. Ren also needed someone to love him, to quiet the restless tiger. But Ren and I fit together so much more easily, like he was made especially for me. He was everything I could possibly wish for wrapped up in a gorgeous package.
Ren and I had so much in common. I loved the way he called me little nicknames. And how he sang for me and played his guitar. I loved how he got excited about reading Shakespeare and how he liked to watch movies and cheer on the good guys. How he would never cheat, even if it was to win the girl he loved.
If I had never met Ren, if Kishan had been the one in the circus cage, I felt I could be happy with him too. But with Ren loving me and wanting to be with me, I could never be persuaded to look in Kishan’s direction. Ren filled my world even when he wasn’t here.
There were no shades of gray for Ren. He was the white cat and Kishan was the black, literally. The problem was that I just didn’t see Kishan in the same way Ren did. Kishan was a hero too. They’d both been hurt. They’d both suffered. And Kishan really did deserve a happy ending just as much as Ren did.
Behind the wheel, Kishan glanced in the rear-view mirror from time to time, watching me.
I was biting my lip, deep in thought, when he said, “Penny for your thoughts.”
I blushed and replied, “Just thinking about saving Ren.” Then I deliberately turned in my seat and napped.
When the car finally pulled into the driveway, Kishan gently shook me awake. “We’re home, bilauta.”