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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1221919-The-Thief
Rated: ASR · Short Story · History · #1221919
Josiah struggles with what he knows to be right, and his own desires.
I was a thief.  I took things that didn’t belong to me. And what did I get out of life? Nothing but bitter regrets. Except there at the end, but we must start at the beginning. Or rather, the beginning of the end.

I was in love with life; or I thought I was. Later I realized I was only in love with things. But in the beginning it really was life I that loved.

I loved working for my father in his vineyard just south of Emmaus. The feel of the soil under my feet, the sun beating down on me as I tended the grapes, these things I loved the most.

My father no longer owns the vineyard. It had been in our family for generations, but when Pompey conquered Jerusalem his soldiers claimed it for Rome. Now we pay tribute of wine, plus whatever they want, whenever they want it.

My father says it is a sin to be bitter of the Romans. He says that God knows what He’s doing with His people and that He is still in control. I just don’t know anymore. There are so many wars going on, and I know it won’t end here. I hate the Romans, and I wish they let us live in peace. But enough about the Romans.

Gallus (pronounced Gay-us) and I weren’t friends; in fact I would grow to despise him. He was only three years older than me, but somehow he looked older. He was a tall ruddy man, and his beard was always full. His father was a worldly man, who had taken a Greek wife on one of his trips. She had insisted that her firstborn be named Gallus. His father owned a huge flock of sheep and sometimes I had seen Gallus grazing them not far from our vineyards. This was how I first met him.

I was pruning, searching for vines with little or no fruit on them, when he called my name. “Josiah,” he shouted. I wondered how he could keep the sheep from scattering yelling like that, but I answered.
“Hey, what are you up to?”
He walked over to where I was kneeling beside one vine, heavy with grapes, some of them were bruised. I frowned.
“How is your father?” he asked. My father was very old, and had been ill for a fortnight. My mother had prayed and prayed, but personally I had lost faith.
“He’s not doing well, but what is that to you?” I didn’t trust him. I just didn’t. Besides, I was under such pressure. I knew how to take care of the vineyards, but my father was so ill I had to take care of the business aspect also. It was wearing.
“I was just being nice,” he murmured, “you look worn out.” 
I sighed and stood. “I’m sorry, I really am. This business stuff is just getting to me.”
He stood there a moment looking at the ground, thinking. ”What are you doing tomorrow.” Tomorrow was yom shihi, the sixth day of the week.
“Other than preparing for the Sabbath, nothing really, what did you have in mind?”
“I was thinking about taking some sheep into Jerusalem to sell. The market for them isn’t too good right now in Emmaus, and I’ll probably get a better price there. I just thought you’d enjoy going. Get away from your vines for a little while.”
“Now that I wouldn’t mind doing,” just thinking about it was attractive.


And so it was the next day that Gallus and I went to Jerusalem. It wasn’t a long walk, but with the sheep it took us nearly half a day. It wouldn’t take us as long going back, so we had plenty of time to enjoy ourselves. When we arrived the city was bustling. I hadn’t been there since last year, during the Passover.

After Gallus turned the sheep over to a stock holder, and bartered for a decent price, we set out to take in the city. As we approached an onyx vender, Gallus told me to act like I wanted to buy something. I wanted to look at the beautiful necklaces, and earrings, and other jewelry anyway, so I didn’t think much about it. I was soon overawed at the cost of such luxury, and so we walked on down the street. As we turned onto a crossroad that would eventually lead us out of town, Gallus showed me a bracelet with small onyx stones at intervals around it. “Wow,” I said, “you did get a good price for the sheep.”
Gallus laughed, “I didn’t pay for it.”
“What?” I gasped.
“Oh, don’t be so naïve, you know I couldn’t afford this on a shepherd’s salary.”
“Well, I didn’t know…” I trailed off.
“Do you like it?” Gallus asked me.
“It’s beautiful.” It really was. But I didn’t want it.  Besides, stealing was a sin, a really bad sin. I may have been bitter at the Romans, but I wasn’t going to go that far.
“You know what I think is ironic?” Gallus asked me, as we walked down the dusty street.
“Uh, what?” I’d been off in my own thoughts.
“That street vender is so corrupt himself. He needs to be taken down a notch or two anyways. My father was telling me that in the onyx mines, they work those slaves to death, for a rich profit! He thinks there ought to be some law against it. He doesn’t think it’s that big a deal, taking something from time to time from somebody who is so rich, and off of other people’s labor. They had it coming, he always says. Just don’t get caught, that’s his philosophy.”
“Do they really treat people that badly?”
“Man you are naive!” I had never seen too many slaves, and the ones I had seen didn’t seem that bad off. But Gallus’ father had been to Athens! Mine had never been any further than Jerusalem. What a life.
“Well, if you think they deserve it, I guess it’s not that bad,” I conceded. Plus it was partially the Roman’s fault my family didn’t have more than we did. What with the tribute, and taxes being increased every time the grapes were ripe it seemed.
“Crazy Romans,” I muttered.
“Yea, they have it all. We work, and they sit in their bath houses all day, drinking our wine, and eating our food! It’s just not fair.”
We walked a little way further, and another vender caught my eye. This one was selling sandals. I hadn’t had a good pair in years. And my mother always made them. On these, the leather was beautifully tanned, and some of them had stones woven through the thongs. I pointed them out to Gallus.
“I’d sure like a new pair of sandals,” I said.
“So get them,” Gallus stated, “here, I’ll distract him while you pretend like your looking at a nice pair.”
“No, I couldn’t,” but I wavered. They were just sandals.
“Go on, now’s your chance.” The vender had come out of his stall and was arranging shoes on a display outside. Gallus went over and talked to him, as I slipped inside. I think he even pointed me out and said I was interested in looking.
I saw some modest sandals with just a few stones around the ankles, and I put them into my robe. I looked around some more, and the vender came over to see which ones I’d decided upon.
“Your prices are too high,” I said grinning. I was sweating in my robe.
“Ah, my shop is too good for you, eh?” He smiled back.
“Yes, I don’t have the money today, but maybe I will come back,” I said. I was desperate to get out of his stall, but didn’t want to seem so.

And so it was. Every few weeks Gallus and I would go to Jerusalem. I loved the things I was getting. Things I’d never before been able to afford. I told mother that there was an increase in the demand for wine, and it was true, the Romans who had started out by exporting it, were now so thirsty they imported it. But our profits were certainly not enough to cover what I was stealing.

A few weeks after our first trip, Gallus and I were walking down a dusty street in Jerusalem trying to decide what we wanted enough to risk stealing. We’d gotten into a routine of only stealing one thing each trip. And we rotated, he stole something, then I did. We figured we were less likely to get caught that way. We had also started dressing nicer, wearing white tunics instead of the brown robes that betrayed our labor status. Richer people didn’t need to steal.

I’d come to trust him, but I still didn’t consider him my friend. He always made sarcastic comments about my youth and that chaffed. Plus I still felt like what we were doing was wrong. I’d justified it in my mind to a certain extent, but we were still stealing.

As we walked and I turned these thoughts over in my, Gallus suddenly nudged me, “Look,” he said. I looked around, and then I saw it. We were about three blocks from the temple, where the venders and goods were richer. Just down from a dove vender was a goldsmith. We’d been by his booth several times before, but this time it caught Gallus’ eye.
“I just had an idea,” Gallus said. “Let’s go into business.”
“What do you mean,” I asked.
“Simply this, sell what we steal, we could make a mint,” Gallus was really excited, “we wouldn’t have to have booths or anything, we could just find somebody in the market for our ‘wares’ and sell it to him at a slightly reduced price. That would also be the incentive for them not to ask questions.”
“I dunno,” I said, reluctant.
“Here, we don’t have to start now, but I want one of those gold chains. I’ve had my eye on it for several weeks now.  If you get the chance you could get something good too, to sell.”
I ambled into the large booth that held the goldsmith’s wares. It was just off his workshop, which contained all his tools for working with the gold. I was looking around, and the shopkeeper came over to me.
“Is there anything I can help you with?” he asked.
I ignored him for a few seconds, as only a proud businessman should, then “What is the process for making one of these chains?”
“Oh, sir, that is a very complicated answer,” he said, “I assure you I take great pride in the quality of my craftsmanship. I take full responsibility, and my apprentice knows I do not tolerate anything less than perfection.”
“I see,” I said. By now, Gallus was making movements like he was ready. “My friend was looking at the earrings you have with the pearls,” I nodded at Gallus. The shopkeeper hurried to his side, quick to make a sale. I moved slightly over, and lifted a small bracelet from the table. Tucking it into my tunic, I asked Gallus if he was going to buy anything.
“This man is out of his head, if he thinks he’s going to get such high prices for this cheap stuff” Gallus clucked.
“You insult me, sir,” the shopkeeper replied, “My products are the best. You will not find better quality anywhere in Jerusalem.”
“I don’t doubt that,” Gallus went on “but such prices. Josiah, I believe we better get out of here before we lose our shirt.”
As we walked out of the dark shop into the brilliant sunshine, a cart vender called “Fresh Bread!”
I jumped. I bumped into Gallus, and the bracelet I’d stole slipped out of my tunic and onto the ground. Meanwhile the goldsmith had taken stock, and decided those two young men left just a little bit too quick.
“Hey,” he yelled “Stop those boys! They are thieves!” The assistant ran after us.
Gallus and I didn’t wait any longer; we cut through the crowd and into a large group of people heading into the temple. Behind us we could hear the goldsmith yelling instructions to his assistant. But we were too quick. As the group going to the temple got to the magnificent gates, we crossed to the next street and into the alley way beyond. We kept walking along the wall at a brisk pace, this time heading out of Jerusalem.
“That, my dear Gallus was way too close,” I told him.
“We were three jumps ahead of him before he knew what was going on,” Gallus scoffed. He continued to make light of the situation all the way back to Emmaus, but I knew better. That goldsmith had gotten a good look at us out in the street, and I knew I was never going to steal again.

My father died one month before the Passover feast to the day. The day he died we buried him in a tomb on a hillside outside of Emmaus. It was a small tomb, and had been used by my father’s parents.  My mother mourned for him for seven days then released him in her heavenly father’s care. My father was the world to me, but I was so busy I almost didn’t have time to grieve. I was heartbroken, but I didn’t have any release, so I just pushed it down, and went on with my work. Mother was concerned with me, but she didn’t say anything. We were growing distant anyways.

After the week of mourning passed, I was again working in my vineyard when Gallus brought his flock near. I went to talk to him.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t at your father’s funeral.” He said.
“It’s ok,” I said. “He’s gone now. But thanks.”
“When do you think we can go back into Jerusalem?” He asked
“Look, Gallus, I’m finished. Last time was just way too close a call for me. Besides, my father had a big impact on my life, and I still know stealing is a sin.”
“Oh, c’mon, don’t tell me you’re going to start preaching to me are you? We’ve talked about it before; it’s not a sin to take back what belonged to you in the first place.” Gallus insisted.
“I’m not going, and that’s the end of it. Now please leave me alone from now on, I have so much to do.” I turned from him, and back to my vines.
Gallus sighed. “You think you’re too good for me, you always have. I’ll find somebody else to go into business with.”

I heard talk around town; it was my cousin Eli he chose. Eli had always looked up to Gallus; he was older than me by six months and always seemed to want to impress Gallus. I was a little surprised Eli had decided to go with Gallus, but Eli’s father was even poorer than we were, so it made since for him to desire things he couldn’t have. I avoided them both like they had leprosy.

Avoiding them wasn’t difficult. Servants were getting hard to come by, Emmaus was becoming quite a large town, and I was working from dawn till dusk. My mother was slowing down, and one of my aunts had come to live with us. Needless to say I was wearing myself out.

I had almost put the events of the past several months behind me. I didn’t repent; I didn’t think God would take me back. I was too far gone. But I pushed those thoughts down somewhere around my bitterness toward the Romans.

It was with these thoughts mixed with excitement and dread that I prepared for my nineteenth Passover. My family always enjoyed the less than half days walk to Jerusalem, it was a time we could come together and gossip. Eli and I had always run races in the past, to see who could get to the next rock, or tree, and then talk about stuff as we waited for the rest of the group to catch up. Sometimes we would even run ahead and join other groups who were also going to Jerusalem.

This time I vowed I would stay as far away from Eli as I could. But I couldn’t. He had a charismatic personality, always laughing and pulling stunts. He seemed like his old self, so I joined in. We ran races, loving the feel of our strength pushing against the earth. We talked about everything except Gallus. I let down my guard. I shouldn’t have.

Eli and I had run ahead and caught up with another group of traveler, namely Gallus and his family. When we neared them, I wanted to go back, but it was too late, they’d seen us. Gallus waved us over, and we talked about the coming week for a few minutes. Then Gallus pulled us over to the edge of the group and told us about his plan. It seems he and Eli had made a profit out of selling the things they stole. They were to meet a man inside the city, someone they’d dealt with before, a very wealthy man. They’d brought some extra stuff along, and Eli said they would make the largest sell ever.
“What has this to do with me,” I asked warily. I wanted no part of it.
Gallus shook his head, “Eli, you would think this wasn’t the same man who ran with me all those times I told you about. Josiah, we will give you a tenth of the profit if you will do this for us.”
“No,” I said. “That man could be a soldier for all I know; a Roman.”
“You are way too jumpy. Eli and I have not gotten caught have we? A Roman, give me a break, you are so bitter about the Romans, that’s all you talk about. Look, think about it for a while. We’ll give you a third of the profit, and you can be done with it. We won’t ask you to do another thing for us.”
I dropped back away from the group. I was sure whatever they had to sell it would be worth a lot. With my mother ailing, and cost of extra labor going up, I was struggling to put food on the table. The money I could get from this one sell would help us considerably. I could buy some slaves to help with the vineyards, and some equipment we had needed for quite some time.
After I’d justified it to myself long enough I walked back to where Gallus and Eli had ventured ahead of the group. “This is the last time you ask me for anything.” I said grudgingly.
“Who’s asking,” Gallus replied “We are merely offering you a one-time business proposition.”
“Ok,” I said. “What is it I will be carrying?”
It was a lot. Three pearl necklaces, two pair diamond earrings, and four gold chains with matching earrings and anklets. Small jewelry, but worth a fortune. They were in a small canvas pouch, such that we used for carrying all sorts of things. I put it into my robe, and then asked what the man looked like, whom I was supposed to meet. Gallus described him to me, and then said that he would be unmistakable because he had a white scar that ran along his left cheekbone. I nodded.
“He’ll be waiting by the Tadi gate, just north of the temple.”
“I know where the Tadi gate is,” I replied. Gallus just shrugged. “When will he be there?”
“Half an hour before the gates are shut. My family is staying at a small inn in the lower city just west of the hippodrome. I’m hoping to sneak in there later tonight. You can meet us there with the money.”
“Ok. My family is staying in the same area. I’ll meet you there.” We were nearing the city. I could see the distinct outline of the walls and towers. We would enter the city through the Phasael gate. There were three towers there, the Mariamme, the Hippicus, and the Phasael, but everyone called the gate by the tallest of the three towers. It was usually a pleasant sight, but in the afternoon light it looked foreboding. Why didn’t Gallus meet the man himself? I had many other questions, but I’d given my word. “Just do it and be done with it,” I told myself.


I dropped back with my mother and the rest of my family contemplating what I’d chosen to do. My father would not be proud. But then I’d never seen him go through the hardships that I had been through in the past months. Not that he hadn’t had hard times; but he also had faith. That was something I was severely lacking right now.

My family neared the gate, and I told my mother I had some business to attend to regarding some servants I was planning to hire for the vineyards. She told me Eli would handle getting the rooms, and if I just asked around I would find them.

I set off toward the west side of the city. The streets were crowded with people; all of them getting ready for the week of rejoicing, fasting and then the offering of the sacrifices.  I stopped to talk to an acquaintance of mine, Matthias, who owned a winery. He asked me if I’d heard of a certain man.
“What’s his name?” I asked, wondering.
“Jesus,” he said, “He’s the one that’s been going about preaching, and healing people. He teaches that he is the fulfillment of the Law, and the Pharisees say he is a blasphemer. Although I don’t see how that can be, the Law talks of fulfillment by a Messiah.
“If they consider him a blasphemer, what are they going to do about it,” I asked. I really must have had my head in a hole. I didn’t have any idea who he was talking about.
“There’s talk of killing him.” Matthias said.
“Blasphemy is a killing sin,” I stated. I wasn’t completely ignorant of the Law.
“But he’s done so much good, He even healed my son, you know how he’s been deaf since birth.” I knew something of that, but then we didn’t talk a whole lot.
“You must be pretty worried about this man Jesus, then.” I asked.
“I truly believe he is the son of God, Josiah.” Matthias said with a conviction I hadn’t heard before.
“Well,” I said feeling a little uncomfortable, “I need to be getting on, I’m to meet my family at our inn near the hippodrome, and I still have business to attend to.”
“Let me go with you,” Matthias offered. “I am heading that way also. I’d like to talk to you about Jesus.”
“Well, actually, it’s private business, I’m sorry but I must decline this time. We will get together and talk about this man you think is the Messiah. Sometime this week?” I truly was interested. I’d heard my parents talk about the Messiah, but He always seemed way off in the distant future. Could it be, he was here now?

I left Matthias at a crossroads; he went south and I continued east toward my dreaded destination. I needed the money, but somehow it didn’t seem so important anymore. Not after my conversation with Matthias. I could see the temple rising, it seemed to heaven and just to the left, the gate Tadi. I was getting even more nervous, something seemed to be telling me to hide the jewelry and run for my life. But what could I do. I’d promised Gallus and Eli, and they would come looking for me when I didn’t return. I must do this one last job.

As I neared the gate I started looking for my man. The towers were swarming with guards, there were so many people coming into the city they needed the extra eyes, to warn of trouble. Little did they know trouble was already in the city. I was it.

The man with the scar stepped out of the long shadows cast by the Antonia fortress. He wasn’t looking for me, so I went to him.
“I’m here for Gallus,” I said.
“Who are you?” he asked.
“Just a messenger,” I stated. A messenger with high stakes involved.
“Where is Gallus?” the man asked.
“He’s staying at an inn near the hippodrome,” I said.
“Do you have the lot?” he asked.
I started to pull it out of my tunic when I was suddenly surrounded by guards. The man with the scar took the jewelry and said “This isn’t the one, but he’s with them. Take him to the jail!”
“What!?” I was being firmly guided by four soldiers into the fortress and down into the dungeon. I was bodily thrown into a cell, and the door slammed in my face. “Wait!” I cried, but the soldiers just laughed.

My mother. She was my first thought. What was my mother going to do?
I pushed myself up and looked around. There were two other men in the cell with me. They were ragged, and looked sick. I sat in the corner furthest away, and cried. Stupid, stupid. Why didn’t I listen to my conscience? What would my family do with out me? Eli. He would have to help. But no, he was a crook same as I. If only he wouldn’t be arrested.

Just as suddenly as I’d been arrested, a guard came and shouted at me.
“Who are your accomplices?!” he bellowed.
“You know who they are!” I shouted back. The man with the scar had known the name Gallus. I wasn’t about to put my family in more danger by giving Eli away. The guard left. I tried to sleep. It wasn’t easy. I’d never been in a jail cell before. The two others with me were quiet. They didn’t try to make conversation.

Maybe a half an hour had passed when I heard the gates open and close behind another guard. By this time it was night. I heard voices, and they opened my door and Gallus was shoved in. He yelled an expletitive at the guards retreating back, but the guard just laughed. The sound was hollow against the stone walls. When the echoes of the guard were gone, I tried to talk to Gallus. “What’s going on? How did you get us caught?” I asked.
“First of all, it’s not my fault!” Gallus was angry. “That stupid cousin of yours must have made a mistake. I never make mistakes.” I didn’t say anything. The first mistake was to steal at all, but I didn’t mention it.
“Where is Eli?” I questioned him after a little while.
“He’s with your family, the guards didn’t even suspect him, they thought you were him, and the other way around.”
I gave a sigh of relief. That set Gallus to cursing him again. I drifted off into my own thoughts. I wondered about my friend Matthias. What would he think when he found out I was a thief. By now my mother was worried. I couldn’t think of that, I just couldn’t. I’d made a mistake, and when I got out of here I was never going back. I would even pay restitution.
I was suddenly tired. The walls were hard, there were no beds, and my back was getting sore. I lay down.
“Move over.” Gallus grumbled.

We wasted three days in that tiny grimy cell. We could hear people around us in other cells. But no guards came except to bring in another prisoner. Finally on the third night we were brought before Pontus Pilate and sentenced. He usually didn’t hear common thieves such as us, but we were told we were to be made an example. We were going to be executed; what’s worse, crucified!

Two days later we were lead away of a multitude of guards. As we neared Pilots hall, I heard voices, shouting “Give him to us, Crucify him!” I look on the steps to the hall, and there stood a man. He was slight of build, and dressed like a tradesman. I wondered who he was. I asked the guard.
“Have you had your head in the sand these past few years?” he asked, laughing. “That’s Jesus of Nazareth. The ‘king of the Jews’.” He said sarcastically. “You are going to be crucified next to him, aren’t you lucky?”
The king of the Jews? I didn’t know what he meant by that. But Jesus! I was to be crucified next to this man? The guard led us to where the woodsmen had laid our crosses. He shoved us to the ground, and commanded us to carry them.
Oh God, I thought. This is it. I’ve been living in a dream since my arrest. But I am to be killed. What of my family. What of my self!?
“No!” I screamed. The guard lashed me on the back with his whip. I fell to the ground. To carry my own cross to my own execution; can there be a worse punishment. I struggled to pick it up. It was heavy. I turned it on its side, and got under it. I would have to drag it along on my back.

Ahead of me I could see Jesus struggling under his cross also. His robes were torn by the lash of the whip, his body covered in blood, and he had a crown of thorns on his head. The guards must have tormented him unbearably. Suddenly he stumbled and fell, the cross coming down on top of him. A crowd had line the road down which we were led. A guard grabbed a tall broad man out of the crowd and commanded that he carry Jesus’ cross. Jesus walked beside the man, his head bowed.

As we neared the gates, I could hear Gallus growling at his guard. He cursed and the guard whipped him. Jesus went through the gate after his guard, and the man carrying his cross had to stoop to get it through.

I started crying and praying. “God I’m so sorry for grieving you. I’m sorry for taking things that weren’t mine. Oh, God please forgive me.” I was crying to God out loud. The guard struck me hard.
“God won’t hear you now!” he shouted, and whipped me again.
“Please, Lord, Jehovah.” I prayed quieter tears running down my face.

The ground was getting steeper, I noticed, and I looked up. Through my tears I could see we were climbing a small hill. Jesus was being nailed to his cross, and I could see his body jerk with every pounding blow of the hammer, but he didn’t cry out. I was not to be so brave.

A soldier knocked the cross off my back, and I fell to the ground. It took two of them to hold me to the cross. I cried out in pain as the first nail was drove into my wrist. I writhed against the guards hold, but there were too many. Then the other wrist. Then my feet. “Oh dear Lord, have mercy on me!” I cried. I knew the worst was yet to come. And it did. Four guards lifted my cross, and I fell against the nails. Blackness overtook me.

I came swimming back to consciousness and extreme pain. It was pain to breath. I pulled my mind away from it, and heard the soldiers standing around mocking Jesus, “He saved others, now he can’t even save himself!”
Gallus say to Jesus “If you are the Christ, save yourself and us!”
How could he say that!? I struggled to get breath. “Do you have no fear? We are worse than this man, we deserve this, but he has done nothing but good!” My body sagged against the nails. I was exhausted saying just those few words. I again lifted my body and drew breath “Jesus, Lord, remember me when you come into your kingdom.” I didn’t expect a reply.

But Jesus spoke, “You shall be with me this day in paradise.” What glory, what light flooded my soul. I was forgiven! I was set free. Tears fell from my eyes as I looked at my savior. He thought of me even in his throws of violent pain. 

The sky was getting dark, it looked like a storm. There was a commotion around Jesus cross. He was going to speak again. “Father! Oh, why have you forsaken me?”
Some of the soldiers mocked him saying “Now he calls for the prophets, he couldn’t save himself, he needs others!”

Suddenly Christ called again “Father, into thy hands I commit my spirit!” then he slumped against his nails. The earth shook, causing the crosses to rock. I passed out again. When I awoke, there was a soldier at my feet; he was going to break my legs.
“No!” I cried, but it was too late. Blackness overtook me.

Then glorious light. And. My father?! He came to me with arms wide open.
“Oh father,” I said “can you ever forgive me?”
“Don’t ask me for forgiveness,” my father said, “but only thank the one who has forgiven you already.

There was Jesus. No longer bloody and scarred, but white and whole! I fell to my knees and wept.




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