Thursday, October 4, 2012

Chapter 13

My heart stopped. He had never said that to me before. Too many thoughts and questions were running through my brain for me to process all of them and I could see that he was waiting for me to respond. The only thing I could manage was,

“You don’t mean that, John.”

Why the hell did I say that? That’s not what I wanted to say. I wanted to tell him that I loved him too. I wanted to let him know exactly what he meant to me. I wanted to hug him and kiss him and tell him we should run away together right then and forget about everything else. But somewhere in the back of my mind I must have known that none of those things were logical. And so, taking charge and doing what it knew was right despite what my heart was saying, my brain spoke before my heart had the chance. And my brain was probably right. He was going through a lot in his life and was just confused. He was unhappy in his marriage and suddenly here I was, this girl, that’s obviously interested in him, but for some reason refuses to be with him. So he thinks he’s in love with me. It’s that old childish game of wanting what you can’t have, right? He couldn’t possibly love me. Who was I? Why should he love me? No, he was definitely just confused. He was wrong, and my brain knew it. Still, that didn’t stop my heart from wanting more than anything for it to be true.

“I do mean it,” John said, his eyes filled with sincerity.

“But how do you know?” I groaned, covering my face with my hands.

“Because, Maggie, I’ve never felt this way about anyone,” he said, reaching up and pulling my hands away from my face. “Not even Cyn. When I first met you, I knew you were different from other girls. I don’t know how exactly. Just a feeling I got in the pit of my stomach, you know? I felt a sort of strange connection to you as if you were the one I’ve been waiting for all my life. I know it sounds bloody corny as hell, love, but I swear to you it’s the truth.”

I couldn’t say a word. I just sat there on his lap, hypnotized by the things he was saying. My heart felt as if it was going to pound out of my chest. He was always honest. He always let you know just what was on his mind at any given time. And yet, I had never seen him as completely honest as he was being at that moment; without regard for consequences. He was so vulnerable. He always had a sort of ‘tough guy’ exterior, but that exterior was completely gone as we sat there on my sofa. I suddenly came to a strange realization that the John Lennon I thought I had known up until this conversation was just a fa├žade. That he was just the public’s perception of John Lennon. And now, probably for the first time, I was seeing the real man; this helpless little boy who needed, above everything else, just to be loved. It was unbelievable. Almost like it was two different people I was dealing with.

“And I don’t think a night’s gone by, since I first met you in that bloody awful club, when I didn’t dream of you. I’ve never felt so damn pathetic, obsessing over some bird,” he said in a deep, comical voice. “It’s just not like me. I could always take ‘em or leave ‘em, girls. I mean, sure they’re good for a shag now and then, but what else do I really need them for?” he raised his eyebrows cheekily. “But with you, Maggie, it’s different. You’re the first girl I’ve ever felt I could really talk to about things that matter. You’re so smart and strong, you know?”

I shook my head. At that moment I felt anything but strong. I could feel tears building up in my eyes again and I batted my eyelashes to keep them from falling.

“John,” I tried to say, but it came out barely a whisper.

“No. Let me finish,” he said, putting a finger up to my lips. “One of the problems between Cyn and me is that she just doesn’t bloody understand me. I think she used to, but she doesn’t anymore. God love her, she tries to as best she can, but she just doesn’t get me at all. It’s strange to say, but I think it’s because she loves me too much. It’s made her sort of blind, you see. She doesn’t see anything but the little art school bugger she fell in love with. Which is fine in some ways, you know, but I need someone who can see what a mess I am. How fucking miserable. What a bastard. I need someone who can see when I’m drowning and someone who will come rescue me. Cyn’s willing to rescue me, you know, but she needs me to tell her when I need rescuing. And I don’t always know, meself, ‘til it happens. And then it’s too late.”

“John, why don’t you talk to Cynthia about all of this?”

“It won’t bloody help, Maggie. What good’s it really doing if you’re constantly having to explain to someone what to do in order to make your relationship work? Besides, nothin’ I could tell her could help her better understand me. We’ve just grown apart. We’re too different from each other now… But you, love… we get one another, you and I.”

“How do you know that?” I asked, the skepticism in my voice obvious.

“I know, ‘cause I’ve seen it. We look at each other, and without either of us saying a word, we just know what the other’s thinking. It’s like magic.”

I couldn’t argue with him on that point. I knew exactly what he was talking about and he was right. Immediately, the incident at the hospital, where Paul had caught John and I sharing one of those moments of silent mutual understanding, came to mind. Still, it was odd to think that it was possible that I understood him better than his wife, a woman he has known for so many years.

“And not only do you understand me, Maggie Jones, but you are the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen in my entire life. Had I known about you when I was a teenager, you would’ve been my fantasy girl. Forget Brigitte Bardot. Probably would’ve made Cyn dye her hair dark like yours, instead of blonde,” he grinned. “Christ, love, I have to force myself not to stare at you all the time whenever you’re around, just so you don’t think I’m off me bloody rocker! And when I’m not around you I’m just so fuckin’ depressed. Thinking about you all the time. Wishing you were with me. I even nicked a picture Paul had of you and Chris. But I cut her out of it, so I could wank off to you without having her stare at me the whole bloody time!” he giggled.

I couldn’t help but laugh at that image. And when I was finally able to catch my breath from laughing, I noticed him gazing at me with a silly smile on his face. The look he gave me was so incredibly loving that, had he been a cartoon character, there would have been little hearts in the centers of his eyes. And suddenly I wondered if maybe I had been wrong. Maybe he really did mean everything he was telling me. Was it possible? Could he really love me?

He leaned in and kissed me, wrapping his arms around me tightly and pulling me against his bare chest.

“I love you, Maggie,” he said slowly, as he pulled his head back and stared deep into my eyes, as if trying to make me really feel his love for me.

And his gaze melted me. Whether he was confused, whether he meant it, or whether he was flat out lying, at that moment it sure felt like he really loved me and I crumbled, giving in to him completely.

“I love you too, John,” I said feeling tears stinging my eyes and threatening to spill out.

When I noticed that his eyes were also filled with tears I thought I would die.

“Oh, John,” I said, covering his mouth with mine.

His mouth opened and our tongues met, tasting and searching the depths of each other’s hot, wet mouths. We each breathed in hard through our noses, refusing to leave the other’s lips even long enough to take a breath. While one of John’s arms stayed behind my back, the other went under my legs, and he stood, cradling me in his arms as carried me to my bedroom. We continued kissing the entire time and only separated when he laid me gently on my bed.

“I’m going to show you just how much I love you,” he said in a sexy throaty voice.

He helped me out of his polka-dotted shirt.

“My God, you’re more beautiful than I could have ever imagined, Maggie. Your hair’s perfect,” he said, running his fingers through my long, dark hair. “Your face…” he said, kissing my forehead, each of my eyelids, the tip of my nose, and then my lips. “Your tits,” he said, biting his bottom lip in a way that drove me insane with want for him, “are fucking unbelievable! Like nothing I’ve ever seen. They’re bloody perfect,” he said, running his hands over my breasts.

He cupped them in each of his hands as if admiring the way they fit so perfectly. Then he rubbed my nipples between his thumb and his forefinger until they were perfect points. He was leaned over me and I could feel his erection through his underwear hardening against my thigh as he played with my nipples. Then he bent his face down and took the peak of my left breast into his mouth and sucked, tenderly at first and then with more enthusiasm. I thought I was going to climax right then and there! He pulled away leaving just my nipple in his mouth and he ran his tongue over it lazily, flicking and sucking. Then he licked a path down my stomach.

“Every inch of you, is bloody flawless. Look at your wee little belly button,” he said in a small cutesy-type voice.

Then he kissed it and quickly dipped his tongue in, causing me to laugh at the tickling sensation. He looked up at me and smiled as he moved lower and I arched my back with anticipation. I had only had happen what I hoped John was about to do one other time in my life and it was great. As John continued kissing his way down, the rate of my breathing increased as I became eager and I could see a wicked little smile on his face as he watched my breasts rising and falling with each breath.

“Excited, love?” he asked, his eyebrows raised in a cheeky manner, and a sly smile on his face.

“Mmm,” I moaned and then smiled at him.

And a moment later I felt his hot, wet mouth on my inner thigh, kissing and sucking my skin. I gasped in delight, clutching my bed linens, and I heard him giggle.

“You ain’t seen nothing yet, love,” he said in a comical voice and I couldn’t help but giggle.

Then he began to lick me, first in long meaningful strokes, then in faster, flicking movements. He moved his tongue in large circles, and up and down, and back and forth, as if he wanted to taste every inch of me. The swirling motion of his moist tongue caused every muscle in my body to tense with delight.

“Mmm, you taste good, girl!” he smiled up at me.

I couldn’t help but feel a little embarrassed, but there was no time to express my embarrassment to him as his lips suddenly found my button and closed around it causing me to cry out with passion. He sucked hard and fast. I had never felt anything like it. The only other time I had had this done to me, I thought it was great, but this was on an entirely different level. What John was doing was mind-blowing. I felt waves of climax build in my stomach and rush throughout my body causing me to shake with pleasure.

“Ah, that’s right,” John groaned. “Give it to me, girl.”

But he was relentless and continued to suck and lick. And all of a sudden I felt his fingers on my button as his tongue plunged into me. I gasped at the sensation and felt my stomach muscles tighten, and then quiver. He moved his tongue in and out of me slowly as his fingers worked my button gently. I rocked my hips and I heard John groan. And just as I felt another wave of orgasm building inside me, his tongue began pumping in and out faster and faster, as if he could sense it as well. His fingers rubbed me vigorously. And I came again. I couldn’t believe what he was doing to me. How was he doing it? After crying out in ecstasy, and trembling with pleasure, my body finally relaxed after the massive orgasm that had just taken hold of it and I could feel John kissing his way back up my legs.

“How the hell did you do that?” I asked him.

“Magic,” he teased, wiggling his eyebrows comically and I giggled. “I could’ve kept it up, you know, but I couldn’t stand it anymore. I just had to kiss you.”

He crawled back up to me, stopping for a moment to kiss and suck on my breasts, and then he finally landed back on my mouth and he kissed me long and hard. As he lay on top of me I felt his erection, rock hard through his underwear, on my belly and I wanted him more than ever. I ran my fingers through his hair and down his strong back as we kissed and finally stopped when I reached his perfectly round backside. I slipped my hands underneath the waistband and gave it a pinch.

“Oi!” John giggled. “Naughty girl.”

“Lose the knickers,” I said in my best impersonation of him.

John died laughing and quickly did as he was told.

“That was quite good, you know,” he smiled. “You might have a career in impersonations.”

“You think?” I laughed.

“Aye, that I do,” he giggled.

“Maybe you’re right. I bet I’d become more famous than the Beatles,” I teased.

“Oh, think so, eh?” John said in a comical voice.

Then he reached down and began tickling my stomach. We rolled around laughing and tickling each other playfully, stealing quick kisses from one another until finally John grabbed both of my hands and pinned them above my head so I couldn’t tickle him anymore.

“Hey! That’s not fair,” I laughed as he continued to tickle me.

I thrashed around, trying to break free from his strong grip, but all my best efforts were in vain.

“You’re not going anywhere!” he giggled.

“Oh stop! Stop!” I cried out, wiggling beneath his fingers.

Then suddenly I felt his hand dive between my legs, stroking gently, and I instantly stopped laughing and gasped at the wonderful sensation. John was looking down at me with a huge grin on his face, his perfectly straight teeth, bright white, contrasting against his pink tongue, which stuck out between them. His eyes were twinkling mischievously. I smiled back at him and he bent down and pecked me on the mouth.

“All right,” he said, suddenly sounding very official. “Enough larking about. Time to get down to serious business.”

I raised an eyebrow at him, wondering what in the world he was talking about. His one free hand, the other still clasping both my wrists above my head, moved to one of my inner thighs, pushing it aside a little. And then he reached over to the other and did the same, spreading my legs wide so he could settle himself between them. I felt the head of his hardened flesh push against my wetness and I bit my lip in anticipation.

“John, this isn’t fair, I want to touch you,” I whined, wanting so bad to wrap my arms around his warm body.

“Uh-huh,” he giggled, leaning his face to mine and kissing me quickly on the forehead and then on the lips.

“Oh, please,” I pleaded.

“Oooh, I love it when you beg,” he teased.

Then, with his free hand, he took hold of his rock hard erection and rubbed the head of it against me. I clenched all my muscles and felt my whole body quiver. I closed my eyes, concentrating on the amazing way it felt. He ran it against my slit lengthwise, very slowly. And then he moved it back and forth with rapid flicks of his wrist. By this time I was going crazy, wanting so badly for him to be inside me. I opened my eyes and saw John staring down at me, admiring the looks of passion that must have been playing out on my face. We shared a moment, smiling at each other. And then, John kissed me. At that same moment I felt him enter me and our mouths opened against one another’s to gasp in delight. He pulled out slowly and as he reentered, he stuck his tongue in my mouth with the same rhythm. He began pumping in and out of me more rapidly, moving his tongue in and out of my mouth with the same fierce movements. His one free hand moved up to my breast and squeezed it as his other continued holding my wrists tightly above my head. I turned my head away from his kiss so I could speak. I wanted so badly to feel his flesh under my fingertips. I couldn’t stand it anymore.

“Baby, please, I want to touch you,” I panted as he pumped in and out of me.

He smiled wickedly and buried his face in my neck as he released my wrists and slid his hand down my arm, over my face and neck, and to my other breast. He squeezed both my breasts and ran his thumbs gently over the nipples as his rhythm slowed. I took his head in my hands, now free to explore his body, and I planted small kisses all over his sweaty face. Then I ran my hands through his hair, thick and soaked with sweat, and down his slick, back. His pumping in and out of me had settled at an agonizingly unhurried tempo and I became impatient. I raised my hips off of the bed and slammed them against John trying to give him a clue that I wanted him to pick up the pace. But he already knew. In fact, that was the reason he had slowed. He loved torturing me and he giggled at my impatience.

“It’s not funny,” I couldn’t help but laugh too. “I want you so bad,” I said, wrapping my legs tightly around his waist and clinging to John as if my life depended on it.

“All right, you bloody little monkey,” he giggled. “Tell me what you want?”

“You, John. I just want you. You’re all I’ve ever wanted,” I said desperately.

“Bloody hell,” John groaned as he bent down and kissed me, picking up the pace and pumping into me faster again.

I removed my legs from around his waist and put my feet on the bed in order to get better leverage. I raised my hips off the bed and rocked them back and forth in perfect time with the movement of his thrusts. Suddenly John reached behind him and grabbed my ankles.

“What are you doing?” I giggled.

He made a funny laugh like a Frenchman, but did not answer me.

He rested my legs on his shoulders and resumed his rapid thrusting. I had never done it in this position before and I must say it was phenomenal. The feeling literally made my toes curl. Just as I could feel my orgasm building, John slowed to the point of stopping and pulled almost all the way out of me, leaving just the head in for a moment. I cried out, shaking with ecstasy, and on the verge of orgasm.

“You say you want me, love? Well, you’ve got me. Now what do you want me to do?”

“John,” was all I could manage, unable to think, the sensation was so overwhelming.

My muscles involuntarily contracted around him, trying to pull him into me deeper, but John wouldn’t budge.

“Yes, that’s my name,” he giggled, happy to be in control of the situation again. “What do you want John to do?” he teased.

“Jesus, John! Come on! Please!” I exclaimed, wriggling myself on the head of his erection, unable to move like I wanted to, in that position.

But John remained still, smiling down at me with a teasing grin.

“Maggie, do you want me to fuck you? Is that what you want?”

“God, yes! Fuck me, John. Please! Fuck me!”

“All you had to do was ask,” he giggled and thrust himself into me violently all the way to the hilt.

My muscles clenched around his hardened flesh and he moaned loudly.

“Christ, Maggie. Oh, you feel so good.”

We rocked back and forth together for just a short time before the amazing experience of simultaneous orgasm rushed over us once more and both of our bodies shook with pleasure. Then we both collapsed gasping for air. When our breathing finally returned to normal he kissed me and I brushed the sweat-drenched hair from his eyes.

“You’re so beautiful,” I said.

“You’re the one that’s beautiful, love,” he pecked me on the lips. “And I love you.”

“I love you too, John.”

He rolled off of me and scooped me into his arms. I lay my head on his sweaty chest listening to his heart beat as he stroked my hair. I ran my hand back and forth across his stomach as we lay there contently. That moment was like being in heaven. I had never experienced sex like that; sex that could be so loving, so passionate, so fun, so dirty, and just plain sexy all at the same time. Maybe that’s just what sex with John Lennon was like, or maybe it was because we truly were in love with each other. I wasn’t sure which reason it really was, but at that moment I didn’t care. I fell asleep wrapped in his arms, and that was more than satisfactory for the moment.

The next morning I woke up, my mind still foggy from the unbelievable sex John and I had had the night before. I smiled to myself when I saw him lying there, sleeping so soundly. He was such a gorgeous man; his thick hair, his long eyelashes, his strong nose, and his rosy cheeks. His lips were slightly parted and I couldn’t help but kiss them. He looked so innocent. So peaceful. There was so much more to this man than the world would ever know. More than most people would ever know. Just as I was leaning in to steal another kiss, his eyes fluttered open.

“Good morning, sleepy head,” I said, leaning down to kiss him.

“Mmm, g’morning,” he returned. “Say, what time is it then?”

“Very early. It’s not even nine o’clock yet. I have to get ready and go to school, but you can stay as long as you like,” I said. “Do you have to go into the studio today?”

“No, I’m going to see the Queen,” he groaned in a sleepy voice, as he slowly rolled out of bed.

“Oh yes? Tell her I said hello,” I laughed, thinking he was joking.

“Do you know her?” he asked, walking past me out of my bedroom.

“Sure. She and I go way back,” I teased.

“Well, then I’m sure she’d be pleased to hear from you,” he called from the bathroom.

“What are you really going to do today?” I asked when he returned.

“What are you talking about? I really am going to see the Queen.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, utterly confused.

“Well now, what on earth kind of Beatles fan are you, miss? You don’t even know about the important engagement we Beatles have this morning?”

I shook my head.

“We’re getting our MBE medals today!”

The shock I felt at hearing this news must have been evident on my face.

John giggled, “That’s exactly how the others with MBE’s felt!”

“How did I not know about this?” I asked, dumbfounded by my lack of knowledge on this subject.

“It’s beyond me, love. Been all over the news for months now, it has. People sending theirs back in protest. Everyone getting in on the debate about whether we deserve ‘em or not. Maybe you should pay a little more attention, eh? What are they teaching you in school anyway?” he asked in a comical voice.

“People sent theirs back?” I asked in disbelief. “That’s crazy. You boys probably deserve yours more for all you’ve done for England than those men that got theirs for killing someone.”

John looked at me in astonishment.

“That’s exactly what I said!” he exclaimed.

I jumped, startled by his sudden burst of excitement.

“Now you see how we understand each other? We’re like the same bloody person, we are!” he pounced on me, tackling me down onto the bed. “Think we have time for a quickie before we both have to go?”

“No, I don’t,” I laughed as I wriggled free from his arms, stealing a quick kiss before I got up from the bed and made my way to the bathroom.

“Come on, Maggie. I’ll be real fast,” he called out in a deep, comical voice.

I turned on the water, so I could take a shower.

“One for the road,” I heard him yell out over the running water.

I poked my head out of the bathroom door and called to him, “Come get your ass in the shower!”

And, almost before the words were completely out of my mouth, he was in the bathroom with me. We showered together, soaping each other up, and playing around a little, but as hard as John tried, I really wasn’t kidding about not having time for a quickie. When we finished, we got out and toweled each other dry, and then we dressed. John got ready faster than I did and phoned his driver to come and pick him up. And by the time I was ready to go, his driver was already there. We left my place at the same time, John in his car, and me, catching a taxi. He tried to kiss me as we parted ways, but I shied away, thinking it probably wasn’t a good idea to kiss him in public.

I had an awful time trying to keep a silly grin off of my face all day. A couple girls I go to school with noticed the change in my attitude and made mention of it. I tried to make light of it saying I was just in a good mood, but I could tell they didn’t buy it. When I got home that afternoon, they were showing footage on the news of the boys at Buckingham palace with their MBE medals. They all looked stunning in their dark suits and finely primped ‘Beatle coifs.’ They posed for photographers and held their medals up for all to see. Each of them had a huge grin on his face. And I smiled to see them so happy. Yet the more I watched them, the more I began to see that they were acting a bit strangely. They seemed happy enough, but at the same time they looked slightly uncomfortable. At first I figured it was simply the occasion that was a bit awkward for them, I could tell John thought the whole thing was a bit of a joke by the way he had been talking that morning. Then all of a sudden, a certain look in Paul’s eyes told me everything I needed to know. I looked at John when they did a close up and sure enough, he had the same look. George and Ringo? Ditto. They were high! I about died laughing. I was sure that I was right and I couldn’t believe it. They got high before they went to see the Queen! Surely that was a first! I immediately phoned Christine.

“Hello?” she asked when she answered her phone.

“Hi, it’s Maggie.”

“Hey, Maggie,” Christine said. “Are you watching the guys on the news?”

“Yes! Did they get high before they went over there?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t seen Paul since before he left this morning. What makes you think they got high?”

“Because they looked completely stoned,” I laughed.

“You know, I thought there was something strange about the whole thing! I bet you’re right,” she chuckled. “I can’t believe them. I bet that was a joke between them, ‘Here we are all high, and you’re giving us a medal! Ha, ha.’ You know how they are,” she laughed.

“So how come Paul didn’t go out with the others last night?” I asked, slyly trying to segue into the subject of me and John.

“Because he wanted to be with me. But how do you know he didn’t go out with them?” she asked.

“Because I saw them last night at the Ad Lib.”

“Oh? You joined their little boys’ night out?”

“I think I crashed it,” I giggled.

“How so?” she asked.

From there I proceeded to tell her the whole story failing to omit any of the gory details, thus was the nature of Christine’s and my relationship. And with the exception of a few, “Oh my Gods,” she took the whole thing very well. I told her about the girl I’d seen him with and that I had left in tears. I told her that he chased me, showing up at my place, and that we had a fight and then slept together. And then I told her about the long conversation we had afterward and everything John had told me. And I told her about us sleeping together again and him spending the night with me. And of course I couldn’t leave out the part about the amazing simultaneous orgasms we had.

“You see? Paul and I were right in trying to get you two together,” she said. “But honestly, I don’t even know what you’re talking about when you say simultaneous orgasm, Maggie.”

“It means just what I said.”

“No, I get that. I just… Well, what’s so great about it? I mean, as long as you both get off, right?”

“Then you’ve never had one?” I asked.

“No. I mean, I don’t think so.”

“Oh you’d know if you had, believe me!”

I described to her exactly what happened and exactly how it felt and by the end, she was speechless.

“But how?” she finally asked, complete wonderment in her voice.

“I have no idea,” I laughed.

“Well, anyway,” Christine changed the subject, “I can’t believe he said he loves you! I don’t think I’ve ever even heard him say that to Cyn.”

“I know. It kind of scared me. I mean, I’m not sure he really means it. Or, maybe he thinks he really means it, but he’s wrong, or confused, or something, you know?”

“I know what you mean. I guess you’re just going to have to trust him. That is, if you want to. Do you think you love him?”

“I don’t know. I know I’ve never felt this way about anyone. But I also know I’ve never been involved with someone as complicated as John.”

“I have an idea,” Christine said, as if a light bulb had just gone on in her head. “Why don’t I find out from Paul just how John feels about you? I mean, if anyone would know it would be him, right?”

“I don’t know, Christine.”

“I’ll tell him not to make it obvious when he asks. Or, maybe Paul already knows and he won’t even have to ask him. Those boys are just like a bunch of girls. They tell each other everything. I’m sure Paul already knows. So I’ll just ask him. And then you’ll know. John wouldn’t lie to Paul about the way he feels about you. Why should he?”

“Okay,” I said, more than a little hesitantly.

Then I quickly said goodbye before I had a chance to change my mind. This had disaster written all over it. This was exactly the kind of situation that gets junior high kids in trouble with each other every day. I had a sick feeling in my stomach. If the answer was that John was just looking for a bit of fun and felt he needed to profess his love in order to get it, I would be devastated, yet it would in some ways make things much simpler. And if he told Paul that he really did love me, but couldn’t bring himself to leave Cynthia, would things really be any better? I suppose I would feel a bit of relief that he hadn’t lied to me, but things would remain complicated. And even if he told Paul that he did love me and was going to leave Cynthia, was that what I really wanted? Did I want to be ‘the girl that broke up a Beatle’s marriage’? Because that is certainly how I would be portrayed in the news. I almost called Christine back and told her she could ask Paul how John felt about me if she really wanted to, but for her not to tell me, because I didn’t want to know. But for some reason I didn’t. I suppose somewhere deep down, I really did want to know, no matter how much pain the answer would cause.

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