A New Life - 10. Chapter 10: From Bad to Nothing

Blake was thankful that Vicky hadn’t make her way over to join them until after the sun tanning was over, but he had been frustrated by her appearance nonetheless. One minute he’d been happily telling Haze about a dive that went awry in Fiji and the next thing he knew, Haze was gone.

Unlike on previous occasions, Blake was actually watching this time. He’d been right there at the moment real Haze vanished. Or rather, at the moment real Haze changed into the other Haze, the more introverted Haze. So, he felt certain that he could pin point the exact moment it occurred.

He remembered that they’d been sitting cross-legged on Haze’s towel, facing each other. Haze had declared earlier that they’d had enough sun for one day so both of them were wearing shirts at the time, much to Blake’s relief. He remembered feeling more relaxed because of this and also because he’d grown increasingly more comfortable with Haze’s presence during their long talk.

Haze had been outlining a shape on the towel with his fingers at the time, watching his hands as he was doing this. Though he’d seemed intent on the activity, Blake remembered that he could tell that Haze was listening to him because his facial expressions were animated. They were following his story, moving and changing as the tale progressed.

But then Vicky had sung out and rounded the corner of the cabin, bounding onto the deck. Blake had been watching Haze at the time, so he’d caught sight of his face as Haze looked up. He felt certain that the change had happened at this point.

Haze had been smiling when he’d looked up and although he was still smiling afterwards, the smile was different. It had fallen at the corners and had become sort of plastic looking. After that it had stayed fixed and omnipresent, seeming to no longer follow the ebb and flow of the conversation or the events around him. He was now detached, divorced from his surrounds.

Blake felt he could see it in his eyes too. Bright blue eyes had appeared to relax and become dull and vacant, as if he had been looking at some spot on the horizon only to realise that there was nothing actually there.

Blake considered the changes to be profound and remarkable. He didn’t understand how no one else seemed to notice when it happened. Was it the case that they had never seen real Haze and so they had nothing to compare it to? Or was it the case that Blake had just spent far too long obsessing over Haze and that’s why he’d noticed?

During the rest of the trip back to the jetty and the time spent loading the van and then driving back to the shop, Blake had been thinking about this. He imagined that Haze may not even be aware of what he was doing, or may not be completely aware. It might be automatic, a trained response. This made Blake wonder, what would lead Haze to develop such an ingrained pattern of behaviour? To instinctively want to escape inside of himself, particularly in the presence of others?

It wasn’t long after he had asked himself this question, that Blake got a pretty good idea of the probable answer.

He had just finished hanging up his wetsuit on the rack out the back of the shop when he heard her voice. It was loud enough to carry and its unique combination of music, charm and authority left no doubt in his mind who was speaking. Penelope Herrington.

He entered the shop carefully, deciding to hang back around the clothes racks where he could scrutinise her for a moment, unnoticed. He felt determined not to underestimate this woman for a second time.

She was standing behind the counter, next to Jill. Blake immediately noticed this and considered it a little odd since, as far as he knew, she wasn’t affiliated with the shop other than through her son’s employment there. Yet her behaviour suggested that she owned the place, or else, was so familiar with its owner that she could be considered ‘one of the gang’.

Penelope had obviously discarded the gray tracksuit from her morning jog and was now wearing a light coloured sun dress with a dark floral print. Blake could sense that she was considerably more at home in this dress and he realised now that in comparison she had been a fish out of water in the shapeless jogging suit. The dress was very flattering on her, the material light and flowing, but also stylish, youthful and no doubt expensive. The colour was only a few shades away from her skin tone in certain places, creating a sexual, almost naked look that he felt certain was intentional.

Combined with the hair and make-up her appearance set her apart from, and indeed above, everyone else in town. Not so much as to be out of place exactly, it was still ‘seaside tourist town’ appropriate, he supposed, but rather more like a soap star would dress for an episode by the beach. It was showy, but subtle enough not to draw attention to that fact on a first glance.

She gave a high pitch exclamation upon seeing him, “Oh! Blake!” She then theatrically brought her hands together as if to clap only once.

Blake straightened his shoulders, put on a smile and then moved out from behind the clothes rack where he had been half-concealed. As he approached her, he nervously glanced around the room to look for Haze, trying not to be too obvious about it. Luckily, he didn’t seem to be around, which was good because otherwise Haze might have wondered why his mother knew Blake’s name.

Blake really wished now that he had gotten around to telling Haze about meeting his mother that morning. He could’ve brought it up at any time during their long talk that afternoon, but he didn’t.

“Hello Penelope,” he said, trying to sound convincingly pleased to be seeing her again.

Penelope and Jill were standing quite close when he’d said this, so he was able to observe both of their reactions simultaneously. Penelope’s blue eyes seemed to tighten slightly, but she was still giving him an enormous grin. In contrast, Jill’s brown eyes bulged and her mouth made a kind of ‘o’ shape. Blake couldn’t tell if she was shocked or alarmed, but she definitely wasn’t happy.

“Have you met Mrs Herrington?” she asked, her voice unusually high. There was an unmistakable emphasis on the ‘Mrs Herrington’ bit.

“Yes, Jill dear, we had a lovely little chat this morning on the beach,” Penelope explained, speaking for him. She moved out from behind the counter as she said this and over towards him.

“Oh, how ... nice,” Jill replied, following at her side. Blake got the distinct feeling that ‘nice’ wasn’t her preferred choice of word.

“Mrs Herrington was giving me a run down on the town,” Blake said politely, noticing how Jill visibly relaxed upon hearing him switch to ‘Mrs Herrington’. He thought she was being ridiculous and expected Penelope to insist again that he call her by her first name, but she didn’t.

“I was very impressed with young Blake here,” Penelope declared. “He’s going to fit right in and make a splendid addition to our little town.” She reached out to press her hand to his arm, just below the shoulder.

“My first impressions of people are never wrong,” she added, turning to Jill as if this were meant for her benefit.

Blake was not uncomfortable with the body contact, but he was aware of it. It made him recall how touchy-feely she had been earlier that morning too. He was, however, a little uncomfortable with her praise and compliments, but not as much as he might’ve been had he thought them at all genuine. As it was he was more curious as to what her game might be. He was sure she had one.

“Yes, he’s ... um ... great,” Jill said, giving a strained, almost frantic looking smile.

Blake didn’t have much time to think about this, because it was at that moment that Haze entered the shop from the front door. He jerked to a sudden halt upon seeing all three of them turned to face him. Blake could never read him very well when he was in his introverted state, but on this occasion he thought Haze looked conspicuously apprehensive.

“Come here Hayden.”

Blake noticed a distinct change in Mrs Herrington’s voice when she addressed her son. This was a command not a request. She spoke to Haze as if he were a schoolboy in her class room, one that had just arrived late from recess. Her manner and tone irritated Blake and he expected Haze to react annoyed too. So, he was surprised and dismayed when Haze simply lowered his eyes and obediently walked over to them.

“Jill was just telling me how quiet today was. It’s such a pity that you didn’t ask for the day off, we do have a lot to do this weekend.” Her voice had regained some of its music and sweetness, but there was something else there too. Blake felt certain there was a hidden significance to her words, meant only for Haze and there was something vaguely menacing about it.

Haze said nothing in response to this and neither did anyone else. Blake could tell Jill was on edge, but he couldn’t even imagine what Haze was feeling. Haze’s dull blue eyes were vacant, trained to about their waist level, but not looking at anything in particular, just avoiding eye contact. He wasn’t even wearing his ubiquitous false smile, but neither was he frowning. It was like he was in a trance, his mind away from his body.

It occurred to Blake then that he had never seen Haze acting like this. Up until now, he had always considered that there were only two types of Haze – real Haze and introverted Haze. However, he now realised that the difference between these two could better be described as lying across an axis. Right now, Haze was further along the line towards the introverted end of the spectrum. More disconnected from his body and the events around him than Blake had ever seen before. It made him feel sad to see Haze like this, but he couldn’t think of what he could do or say to help.

Finally, when the silence had stretched out for a bit too long, Jill chimed in. “You can go now if you like, there isn’t much to do around here this afternoon.”

Mrs Herrington turned to her and touched her arm in much the same way she had touched Blake’s.

“Thank you dear, how kind of you.” She was back to her gracious, charming self again.

“Oh, it’s not at all a problem Mrs Herrington,” Jill assured her, wringing her hands anxiously.

Blake heard Vicky sing out from the back of the shop at that point, causing Jill to perk up and back away from them.

“I better go see what Vicky wants,” she said, before hastily making her exit.

“Of course dear,” Mrs Herrington said, waving her hand as if to grant her leave. She then turned her attention back to Blake. “Have you met my son Hayden?” she asked him, smiling in a sickly sweet fashion.

“Yes thank you,” Blake replied politely. “Haze has been a great help teaching me the job and showing what to do.”

He noticed that her eye had twitched almost imperceptibly when he’d said ‘Haze’. She was still smiling, but he knew he had touched a nerve.

“Oh, well, I’m sure it won’t be too much of a challenge for you. It’s not exactly a law degree after all.”

With that, she pivoted on her heel and made her way over to the front of the shop. Blake found he was once again forced to follow her, so as not to break the conversation.

“Well it’s all pretty new to me, and he’s been a great help,” he insisted.

“I see,” she said somewhat dismissively.

This irritated Blake. The more he saw of her, the more he decided that he didn’t really like Mrs Herrington. He wondered now how on earth his first impressions of the woman could’ve been so misguided. There was nothing kind or motherly about her, she was charming and gracious to be sure, but underneath this she was a manipulative bully. The way she acted so superior to others really grated on his nerves.

Haze followed behind them, like some sort of obedient pet. He was still not saying anything, which only further fuelled Blake’s outrage. He couldn’t understand why the blue-eyed boy was behaving so deferential, so submissive.

“Where did you study law?”

“Sydney.”

“Ah ... a very good university.”

They had left the shop now and were approaching a shiny black Land Rover with an expensive looking white leather interior. Blake noticed it was parked in the painted square marked ‘Kulibari Bay Diving’, which was meant for the shop’s ute or minibus.

“I wish my son would get a proper education,” she said glancing back at Haze with no real attempt to hide her disapproval. “Unfortunately Hayden’s never been very academically inclined.” She sniffed.

“I am studying.”

It took a moment for Blake to realise that the meek voice which had just spoken belonged to Haze. His voice was so soft and lost sounding that Blake wasn’t sure he meant to say anything out loud. His head was still bowed and there wasn’t a trace of defiance so far as Blake could see.

“Correspondence, at ECU,” she said to Blake, as if that required no further explanation. Then she turned to Haze and said, “And what good is marine biology hmm? You can’t spend the rest of your life playing with fish Hayden.”

Blake felt his blood boil as he almost shook with anger at the way she was speaking to him. It wasn’t just that he felt protective of Haze, it was more than that. There was something about the dynamic between Haze and his mother that was just too familiar to Blake. It reminded him of his own upbringing. What he had left behind in Sydney. Why he had left. He felt as angry as if she had been speaking about him and not about Haze.

However, in contrast Haze didn’t seem to react at all. It was as if he couldn’t care less, as if he wasn’t even listening. Blake stared at him for a moment, willing him to speak up, to say something, but he wouldn’t. His dead eyes just stared slightly forward and down as he simply stood there, silently.

The indicator lights of the Land Rover lit up with an electronic buzzing sound as Mrs Herrington clicked the remote. She then turned then to face Blake as Haze moved to the back door of the car.

“I do hope you spend more time with my son, Blake. Maybe your good influence will wear off on him.” She looked over at Haze as if he were her cross to bear.

Blake wanted to say something supportive, but could only come up with ‘he’s a good influence on me actually’ which sounded lame even in his head. Then he thought he could argue with her about the merits of marine biology, but the moment was lost and she was speaking again before he could come up with a retort.

“Anyway dear, I did so enjoy our little chat this morning.”

Haze looked up at that, the first time he’d visibly reacted to anything since his mother had shown up. His face was still fairly blank, but his wide eyes made Blake’s heart sink as they fixated on him.

This reaction apparently did not go unnoticed by his mother, who smiled slyly and added, “And thank you for helping him out with that drunk the other night too.”

Despite what was obviously Haze’s best effort to conceal everything he was feeling, a crack appeared in his mask when she’d said this. A brief flash of emotion ran across his features, his eyes never leaving Blake’s. Anger, sadness, hatred, hurt, betrayal all at once, with such intensity that Blake felt himself flinch involuntarily.

“See you again Blake!” Mrs Herrington sung her musical farewell as she got into the car and closed the door in Blake’s stunned and stupefied face.

He felt sick to the pit of his stomach. He quickly turned back to Haze, but the young man had already gotten into the back seat of the car behind his mother and was shutting the door.

“I-I ... um,” Blake stammered, but again couldn’t think of anything to say and he wasn’t even sure Haze could hear him now, through the glass of the window. He wanted to tell Haze the truth. That he hadn’t told her anything. That he’d kept Haze’s secret. That she was trying to trick him.

However, all he could do was stutter and gape. Haze wouldn’t even look at him as the car pulled away. He kept his eyes on the head rest of the seat in front of him, once again detached and introverted.

***

“Whoa ... you called her Penelope?” Vicky gasped, overdramatically.

“She told me to call her that,” Blake protested. “I didn’t even know her last name at first.”

“I didn’t even know she had a first name!” Nats retorted, also hamming up the disbelief.

The three of them had been getting things ready at the back of the shop, when Nats brought up the story, quoting Jill’s version of events. The girls were teasing him a little and on another occasion he might have been anxious about this, but right now he didn’t really care too much.

“She must ... like you,” Vicky mused, a mock look of disgust crossing her face.

“Jill said she was, like, all over him,” Nats added.

“Ew!”

“What? She’s pretty good looking, just a bit old for him.”

“Maybe, but she’s also plain evil.”

“Oh come on, now. Awful? Yes. Pretentious? Yes. Bossy? Definitely. Evil? I wouldn’t go that far.”

“Nats you complain about her more than anyone!”

Just then, Jill’s shout from the front of the store interrupted the quarrelling girls.

“Customers!”

“Coming!” Vicky answered, getting to her feet and brushing off her knees. She made her way over to the front of the shop, parting with, “you’re just lucky she didn’t put the rent up, otherwise we’d be feeling sorry for you next time Jill is handing out chores.”

“It’s Haze I feel sorry for,” said Nats.

Blake gulped at the mention of Haze, feeling just a tiny tug of anxiety. He glanced over at the clock and saw that it was a few minutes after 8am. Haze should be here at any moment now. When he arrived Blake felt certain that he would either ignore him completely or glare at him spitefully. He wasn’t sure which was worse. Haze would probably hate him and ...

But then Blake stopped mid-thought. This obsessing was just too tiring to keep up with this morning.

“So ... someone gotta bit too much sun there hey?” Nat’s began, a mischievous smile upon her face.

She could hardly talk herself, Blake thought, as every inch of her skin that didn’t have freckles looked pretty red to him.

“Yeah, maybe a little too much on the face and neck, forgot to put a hat on afterwards,” he replied.

“Dun worry I’m sure it’ll fade to a nice sexy tan.” She was wriggling an eyebrow at him as she said this.

He felt a little something at that, a tugging sensation inside his chest again. It was the sort of thing that normally dragged him down, but at the moment it was too faint to pay much attention to.

“So much for helping me find my feet here, you ditched me yesterday,” he accused, changing the subject.

“Yeah, sorry ‘bout that,” she said rolling her eyes at him. “Girlfriends were heading off to Bindalla and I really wanted to join ‘em. Jill gave me an out so I took it. Sucks to be you.”

“Fair enough, what did you do there?”

“Shopping! Bindalla’s gotta proper mall, bought some new outfits, checked out some boys, had lunch. Was a pretty sweet day,” she grinned at him.

He felt a smile form on his face in response, but it was out of habit not amusement. He didn’t really feel like smiling.

Nats chatted a bit more about her day and about the things she and her friends got up to at the nearby town. ‘Nearby’ being a relative term since it was almost 200 kilometres away. Fortunately, as Nats explained to him, there was virtually no speed limit or traffic out here so it took just under 2 hours to get there. Bindalla was the nearest town of any size.

The tourists began to trickle in and Blake helped the girls get them fitted into hire-gear for the dives. There were about eight of them today, mostly Australians, but also a good looking French couple. The skin on their shoulders was peeling from sunburn, probably because they’d underestimated the Aussie sun. European tourists tended to do that when they were over here.

Blake noticed that the French guy in particular was a stud. He wasn’t overly built, but he was well proportioned and very trim with a gorgeous face.

Naturally, a part of Blake’s mind made the comparison between how good looking this guy was and how good looking Blake wasn’t, but he couldn’t be bothered with that thought process for very long. It occurred to him out of habit, but there was only a faint emotional tug in that direction. Not enough to get worked up about.

Jill gathered them over for a rundown of the day’s plan and after she had assigned everyone a job, and they had begun to wander off, Blake found himself asking out loud, “But what about Haze?”

The statement had been a little out of the blue, causing Nats look at him strangely after he’d said it. Again there was a mild tug of embarrassment toying at his insides, but nothing came of it. He was just asking a question, no big deal.

“Haze doesn’t work Fridays,” Nats supplied.

“Oh,” was all he said.

Vicky had wandered off to man the counter and Jill was rounding up the tourists for her briefing. That left only Nats, who stayed with him a moment.

“Are you okay?” she asked him, looking a little concerned.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he replied, noting that it was true, he really was fine.

He was disappointed that Haze wasn’t here of course. After all, he had spent hours last night practicing what he was going to say, how he was going to make Haze stop hating him, and now that’d proven a waste of time. He wasn’t going to put any of it into practice. Haze would continue to hate him as he probably did now and there was going to be no resolution. Blake would have to wait in suspense, the guilt and anxiety eating away at him for another 24 hours.

Except it wasn’t eating away at him. He didn’t feel any of that really.

“You look a little sleepy, rough night?” Nats asked him.

He thought about that for a moment. It had pretty much been one of the most unpleasant evenings he could remember. He’d been so upset he’d even cried. Panicked a bit too. Self-loathing, mirror games, the works. Then he’d obsessed over all of that and fretted about what he was going to do until the meds had finally kicked in. Then he’d gone to sleep. It was a black unconscious sleep, with no dreams. Strangely unrefreshing, but he couldn’t complain. He didn’t really feel like complaining.

“Something like that,” he replied vaguely.

She gave him another funny look for a second, but let the issue drop.

Blake gathered his own gear, helped load the trailer and rode on the bus all without saying a word. Nats was close by and although he was glad for her company, he didn’t really find her as uplifting as usual. She was still pleasant to have around, but usually her good mood was infectious and today it just wasn’t rubbing off on him.

On the boat while they travelled out to the dive sites he joined her on the front deck again. He’d been careful to use sunscreen on his face and neck, but since his body wasn’t red he decided to join her for a quick 10 mins of sun on each side.

He didn’t really think about it until afterwards, but there was such a vast difference between sunbaking today, compared to yesterday. True, today he didn’t have the sexiest boy alive next to him, but mostly it was the medication. His mind would start to think about the implications of taking off his shirt, but it was just thinking. No bad feelings would accompany the thoughts, so the thoughts drifted off and nothing came of them.

Next thing he knew he’d had enough sun and he’d put his shirt back on. That was that, no big deal.

He still used the cabin to change into his wetsuit, but only because he had done so previously and that was his routine now. Not because he was anticipating anxiety. Had he thought about it he might have anticipated anxiety, but it was too hard to even imagine what being anxious was like right now.

He later pondered over all of this. It was undeniable that the medication helped him through the day. There was so much less effort involved in getting to work, dealing with colleagues and generally getting through the working day. Without the constant dramas, the sea-saw emotions, the threat of panic and the constant anxiety, everything about life was easier and more enjoyable.

It wasn’t until he was hauling his dripping wet body up the metal ladder and onto the boat after the first dive that he realised ‘enjoyable’ wasn’t really the right word.

“How’d it go?” Matt had asked him, as Blake handed his fins over to make climbing the ladder easier.

Blake had thought for a moment and then realised that he hardly remembered the dive.

“Fine,” he replied.

That was true, from what he could remember there was nothing to complain about. He had been keeping an eye on the tourists, but he’d also seen a turtle, he could remember that much. Turtles were often something to get excited about, but he didn’t really feel excited. That seemed too difficult too.

That was the drawback of the medication, no feeling either way. Events drifted by unremarkably.

After the second dive he changed out of his wetsuit and locked himself in the marine toilet. It was a tiny space with only barely enough room to turn around. There was no tap, only a bucket of water in the corner, but he was holding a mouthful of water he’d drank before entering. He fiddled around in his shorts until he found the portion of the pill he was looking for and then he swallowed it.

He then helped with lunch and after the tourists had eaten he ate some himself, sitting amongst, but not really talking to Jill, Matt and Nats. Sometimes he thought about smiling when something funny was said, but there was no feeling there either, so, he just listened instead.

The day passed quickly like this and in almost no time at all he was back at the shop, rinsing off the equipment with Nats. She invited him out to the bar afterwards, but he turned her down again, claiming to be too tired. She had noticed him looking tired earlier so she didn’t argue with him, which he was grateful for. He wondered whether maybe Haze would be there, but he was more worried about the likelihood of alcohol being there.

He wasn’t supposed to drink while he was on his meds. He’d done so before and ended up really wasted after only a few drinks. Alcohol tended to make him emotionally messy at the best of times, but when combined with the drugs the results could be unpredictable. He might get depressed and emotional or he might just get groggy and pass out. Worse, he might get all uninhibited and feel the need to confess secrets he would later regret.

So instead he went home, made himself dinner, tidied his apartment, showered and then went to bed with a book to read. He was alone, but he didn’t really feel lonely. He didn’t really feel anything.

Before he went to bed he broke up another pill, took one portion and put the other by his bed stand with a glass of water. He knew it was important to take the next dose as soon as he woke up, since the one he’d just taken would wear off over night and that might leave him a little vulnerable when he first woke up.

The next day this is exactly what happened. He awoke to a horrible sensation in his chest, a sick, guilty and anxious kind of feeling. He quickly took his pill and then pulled a pillow over his face, wishing the feelings away.

Despite closing his eyes and burying himself in the pillow, he could still see Haze’s face clearly. It had been burned into his mind. The shock in his wide blue eyes, the way his mouth gaped ever so slightly. Then the way his eyes narrowed fiercely and his mouth formed into a snarl.

The images bounced back and forward in his head, like one of those holographic pictures that changed when you looked at them from different angles. He was rocking the images back and forth from shock to hating and then back again. Over and over, making himself feel worse and worse.

But soon he fell asleep again and when he woke up, the images were gone. He remembered feeling bad, but he couldn’t seem to bring back those feelings anymore. He even gave a go of trying to bring them on, imagining how much Haze would hate him and trying to conjure up those hate filled eyes. But it just didn’t have any effect.

He got out of bed, showered, changed and ate breakfast all without really noticing the time go by. He even gave a quick cursory look at himself in the mirror without any dramas. Perhaps a mild tugging sensation in his chest, but that was all.

It was at times like this that he felt grateful for the medication. It was so good to be able to do basic things like look into a mirror without falling to pieces.

Later in the shop, when Haze didn’t appear again and Blake had asked Jill why, she’d told him that Haze had the weekend off to help his mother with something.

Blake was very disappointed by this, but when he tried to get upset, angry or anxious about it, there was just nothing there. He wondered why Jill or Nats hadn’t told him this yesterday, but instead of a spiral of paranoid thoughts the rational answer occurred to him. He hadn’t asked Jill and Nats probably didn’t know Haze was taking more than his usual Friday off. Without the emotion to sustain them the thoughts soon died off and he was back to feeling blank.

Haze hated him, he wouldn’t be able to make it better for another two days now and all he felt was wonderful blankness.

Just a pity that he couldn’t smile too much about that, because although the blankness was a welcome relief to feeling bad, it wasn’t really a good feeling either.

Two more dives, another glorious day out on the water and not a worthwhile memory amongst any of it. He’d seen a hawk ray, but couldn’t get very excited about that. Nats had been great company again, but she still didn’t really make him laugh. He even had a few words with Carlos, but he couldn’t really remember what they’d talked about.

Back home, wash gear, pack things away. Go home. Take med. Make dinner. Eat dinner. Clean up. Shower. Brush teeth. Get into bed. Take Med. Sleep. Wake up. Take med. Get up. Shower. Eat Breakfast. Go to work. Help tourists. Board bus. Board boat. Hang with Nats. Dive. Dive. Take Med. Help with lunch. Eat lunch.

What day was it?

He wasn’t even sure anymore.

It didn’t really matter, nothing really mattered.

At least Haze would be back soon. Then Blake could finally find out how much Haze hated him. At least then he would know.

He really liked Haze and cared about what he thought of him. He wondered if Haze would ever forgive him. What if he couldn’t even stand to look at him?

What would that feel like?

Would that be able to get through the all encompassing nothingness of the medication?

Maybe he should take an extra dose just in case.