ATOP Part Five

Baby Born

Josh sighed again... dramatically... and squirmed in his chair. Did these things always take this long? For the thousandth time he glanced at his watch. Drat the thing, it must be broken. No way could five hours have passed already. 

"Mr. Leonard?" 

All the men in the waiting room glanced up at the nurse's voice. And the one who must obviously be Mr. Leonard jumped to his feet eagerly. 

"How's my Jenny?"

"Mother and baby are just fine," the nurse smiled. "Congratulations, Mr. Leonard, you're the father of a seven pound baby boy."

"Hey..." Josh mumbled as the nurse escorted the new father from the room. "I was here first."

"Don't work that way, bud," a middle-aged man seated across the room laughed from behind a newspaper. "And I oughta know. I'm on my seventh."

Another sigh... even more dramatic... and Josh glared at the clock ticking steadily away on the wall. The clock was no further ahead than his watch.Another hour passed... and then another. Josh was starting to get worried. He all but collapsed in relief when Rob and Myra joined him in the waiting room. By then... it had been nine hours. And every hour, on the dot, he had gone to the nurse's station around the corner, begging for news. They always said the same thing... just told him to be patient. "These things take time," they told him.

But... this much time?

Nine hours... Myra assured him that was alright. But then passed ten hours, and then eleven. Supper came and went, with as much notice from Josh as lunch had gotten. Rob and Myra went home to do the chores... with the promise to stay in constant prayer.

By twelve hours, Josh had taken to pacing and was doing a rather effective job of wearing a path across the carpet. By thirteen hours, he had switched from pacing in a straight line to going around in circles. The nurses were starting to look annoyed at his constant questions. Now when they saw him coming, they exchanged nervous glances and said even less than before.

By fourteen hours, a doctor chanced to pass the waiting room and was instantly pounced upon by the nervous wreck that had once been Josh. 

"Emma... how's my Emma?" he cried, seizing the doctor's arm feverishly. "The baby... has the baby come yet?"

"What's your name?" the doctor seemed unruffled, calmly pulling his arm from Josh's grip. "Ah... Mr. Campbell-Hayes... let me see..." he pulled a pair of spectacles from his coat pocket, perched them on the tip of his nose and scanned his clipboard. "Your wife is still in the delivery room. We'll let you know as soon as there is any news."

"But it's been fourteen hours!" Josh cried at the doctor's retreating back. With an agonized groan, he slumped into a chair. He scowled at his watch, suddenly pulling it from  his wrist and flinging it across the room. Fourteen hours were swiftly passing into fifteen. By now it was the middle of the night. Sixteen, seventeen... eighteen hours. There were fingernail marks in the arms on Josh's chair. Fathers came and fathers went... and still Josh stayed.

Nineteen... twenty... twenty-one...

"Mr. Campbell-Hayes?"

Josh jumped from his chair as if struck by lightning. He had been waiting to hear that for what seemed now like a lifetime of agony.

"What is happening?!" Maybe he didn't mean to shout, but, well... his voice came out much louder than it was supposed to.

"The... the doctor wants to speak with you," the nurse faltered, stepping back a bit. "Come with me, please."

It was not what he had expected to hear. Something like "Congratulations, mother and baby are doing fine." This... this he didn't know what to make of.

"Is my Emma alright?"

The nurse didn't seem to hear his eager questions. She simply turned a few corners and pointed toward an office doorway. The doctor rose to greet him, his eyes weary.

"Mr. Campbell-Hayes..." the tone was not one of congratulations. "This is... never something that is easy for me to say..."

"Emma?" Josh's voice shook. "My... my baby? Tell me they're alright, please!"

"I wish I could..." the doctor shook his head. "The baby... it's a little girl. Five pounds. She... we are doing all we can, please understand, but she... we're afraid she won't make it."

Josh sank against the wall, groped for a chair. Finding none, he went all the way down, sitting on the floor. He felt the doctor helping him up, as if in a dream, guiding him to a chair. The rest of the words seemed more like echoes, ringing through his subconscious.

"It was a hard labor... one of the hardest I've seen. Mrs. Campbell-Hayes... she... she's not doing well. I assure you that we're doing all we can for her as well. But there is only so much that we can do."

"Can I... see her..." Josh's voice was husky, his eyes suddenly filling with tears that he did not want to cry. He blinked them back fiercely.

"Not just yet. I'm sorry... she's exhausted. In a few hours you can see her. But the baby... she wanted you to hold the baby before..." his voice trailed off. "Please, if you follow me..."

Josh followed. Somehow he managed to put one foot in front of the other. But he scarcely realized what he was doing. People were speaking to him, and the words weren't registering. And then a tiny pink bundle was placed in his arms and suddenly no one existed in all the world but him and his baby.

She was so tiny... so much tinier than he had thought a baby could be. So tiny, so precious, so perfect. But she lay there so still, tiny eyelids shut over tiny eyes, tiny hands curled into tiny fists... 

"Hello, baby," he whispered, bending his head low over her. He felt suddenly more fiercely protective than ever before in his life. If anyone touched his baby... heaven help him, he'd pound them into the dust. But she... she was slipping away... and there was nothing, nothing he could do!

"God help me," he whispered and pressed a gentle kiss on the tiny button nose. The baby whimpered softly, snuggling her tiny head against him.

Again, someone was guiding him to a chair. He had wavered on his feet. They were asking if he was alright, asking if he needed them to take the baby... he only shook his head and clutched the baby closer. He reached up, touching her tiny hand... and she curled her fingers around his.

"God help me," he whispered again, feeling his heart break in two. "I can't do this."

"Mr. Campbell-Hayes," a nurse approached him almost timidly. "The mother is... asking for her."

"One more moment," Josh whispered, bending even lower until his forehead rested against the baby's cheek. "I love you, baby, I love you, my daughter, more than you'll ever know."

The baby sighed... the tiniest, softest sigh he had ever heard in all his life... and then the tiny fingers uncurled. Josh felt his heart stop cold. He knew it stopped... for at least a moment... stopped beating at the same moment that his baby's stopped. He looked up at the nurse, his eyes wild, pleading for help... surely, surely someone could do something, anything!

The nurse's eyes were filled with tears and she reached out to take the baby.

"I'm sorry..." she murmured. "I... the mother..."

"Yes..." Josh whispered back. "Take her to Emma."

But he held the tiny body for a moment longer, rocking her, loving her. And with one last kiss on that tiny cheek... he let her go.

Random Cut Scene–Post-Baby

 "Emma... Emma... Emma..." over and over he whispered her name. She wouldn't respond, wouldn't so much as open her eyes and look at him. He was losing her... in more ways than one. He could feel it.

"God!" he cried out, drawn out slowly in a tone of utter anguish. "Don't you care? Emma..." he took her head in his hands, turning her face to his. Over and over he kissed her, desperate for a response... a look, a word, anything...

"Don't leave me," he sobbed. "Don't you dare leave me! I will die if you do, do you hear me?! I will die!!"

Nothing. Not one sign that she even heard. In desperation, he rose from his knees, lay down beside her, pulling her as close as he could, clasping her against his heart. He tried to speak, but he couldn't, his whole body shaking with sobs.

She didn't move. Didn't even open her eyes. His sorrow was swiftly turning to anger and had he not been afraid to hurt her, he would have shaken her. Desperately. 

"God!" he screamed. "Abba Father, don't you hear me? I gave my life to Thee that day in Normandy, why are you forsaking me? Why didn't you let me die there? God! Abba Father... don't... take... my... Emma!"

Broken Hearts

With a sigh, Donna dropped a stack of dishes into the kitchen sink and shook her head at them. She certainly didn't feel like washing dishes, and yet... staying as busy as possible would more likely than not keep her mind from thinking too far.

"Oh, Donna," Myra smiled in a tired sort of way as she entered the kitchen. "Let me deal with the dishes. You should go home and get some rest."

"How can I?" Donna choked back a sob. "My poor daughter... my baby... not a thing I can do to help..."

"We're doing as much as we can," Myra answered softly. "And the rest is in the hands of God. Oh... my friend, my sister..." hastily she crossed the room to wrap her friend in an embrace. "He cares, you know He cares. We've both felt this anguish before and know how God's mercy and strength... it is enough. God is enough."

"Yes, thank the Lord," Donna gulped. "He brought my son back to me when I had given him up as lost. I am asking for a... miracle. I... have faith... that He will restore my Emma as He restored my Ronnie."

"And if He does not?" Myra's question was barely audible. Donna's face went white.

"Though He slay me," she whispered. "Yet will I trust in Him."

Footsteps echoed down the stairs and in another moment, Josh peered anxiously into the kitchen. He was gripping a tray on which lay a full bowl of now-cold chicken broth.

"Could you... heat it up again, Mom?" he shoved the tray at her, eyes wide with worry. "Em's awake now, maybe I can get it down her yet." He began to pace nervously as Myra dumped the soup into a saucepan and turned up the gas on the stove. 

"Looks like we have more than one nurse in the family," Donna laughed. "You're taking such good care of her. Thank you."

"She won't eat," Josh whispered, his eyes growing darker still. They barely looked green these days. "I've been... forcing her. Prying her mouth open and pouring the broth down her throat."

The half-smile left over from Donna's laugh vanished. She said nothing in answer. The kitchen fell silent except for the scrape of Myra's spoon against the bottom of the saucepan.

The clock ticked. Donna's shoe tapped nervously on the floor, her fingers drumming on the table. Josh glanced around the room and then turned, his footsteps echoing back up the stairs.

For the two days since Emma had come home from the hospital, Josh had not left her side for more than five minutes at a time. He was barely eating himself and dark circles had formed under his eyes. No one really knew if he ever got any sleep. At night, he could be heard pacing back and forth across the room, over and over...

Myra adjusted the heat on the stove, frowned at the steam drifting from the saucepan, and nodded to herself. As she pulled the pan from the burner, she glanced out the kitchen window and gasped.

"Donna! Quick... see who's coming down the lane!"

Donna rushed to the window, took one glance, and was outside running wildly out into the yard before Myra even realized she had gone.

Katie stopped only a moment to set Jamie on the ground... Mac was too loaded down with suitcases at the moment to take him... and flew into her mother's arms.

"You didn't tell me you were coming!" Donna cried, clinging to her youngest daughter. "You poor things... walked all the way from the station..."

"Didn't want to bother anyone with picking us up... came as soon as we could drop everything... no time to... telephone..." Katie's answers came in snatches. "We're staying until my sissy is ship-shape again... where is she?"

"Up in bed, of course... come in, come in... we'll heat up some lunch, oh, let me see my grandbaby... come to Gramma, Jamie... oh my big boy, look at those chubby cheeks!"

Minutes later, the suitcases were on their way to the Stewart's, via Ronnie, who had been summoned immediately. Jamie was wrapped tight in his grandmother's arms, and Mac and Katie were being led upstairs to Emma's room. A knock on the door yielded no answer... and a second knock was no more effective. Myra opened the door slowly, ushering the newcomers in. 

Emma seemed to be asleep again and Josh, on his knees at her bedside, was also asleep, his head nestled against hers, their fingers twined together. Shaking her head, Myra backed silently out of the room, Mac and Katie following. 

"It's the first rest that poor boy's gotten since he brought her home," she whispered. "He's eating himself up with worry over her. There you see," she nodded at the door, "What two broken hearts look like."

Praying for Emma

It was a Saturday... a lovely, lazy Saturday afternoon. Josh stood by the window, drawing the curtains wide open so that the sunshine fell full upon the still, white form in the bed. Birds filled the tree just outside the window... a pair of bluebirds were building a nest, singing cheerily while they worked. Myra was out in the garden, nearly hidden beneath a giant straw hat. Beyond that he could see Mickey and Rebekah sitting out in an apple tree in the orchard, swinging their legs merrily. Rishona was under the apple tree, frolicking with ZedZee. They all seemed happy. 

He groaned miserably, shaking his head. The sunshine had no effect on him. Inside, his soul raged with a powerful storm. He trudged back to Emma's side, picking up the still-warm mug of tea on the nightstand. Carefully, he lifted her head, holding the cup to her lips. Her eyes fluttered halfway open and then closed again.

"C'mon, Em, drink up..." he tried to laugh, but it came out shaky. "It's good, I know it is. Had some myself. C'mon, you never were a picky eater before..." Gently he opened her mouth, managing to pour a tiny bit of the tea inside. It went down, and he felt his hope rising. But the next bit came dribbling out again. Gritting his teeth in frustration, he wiped away the spilled tea and tried a third time. The door opened softly. He didn't turn to see who it was, not even when she spoke to him. But he knew the voice to be Rachel's. 

"Time you took a... how do they say it... a break..." she said softly, laughing a little. "A break... it does not make sense, jah? But time for yourself, time to rest... you need it. Go." 

He rose stiffly, pressing the mug into Rachel's hands.

"She won't drink it," he muttered, stumbling forward. She grabbed his arm, steadying him.

"They are waiting for you downstairs," she murmured. "I will stay with my dear friend here... I promise you I will take good care of her."

"I know you will," Josh was half-surprised at himself for offering no protest. Scarcely had anyone been able to coax him from Emma's side yet. But there was something in Rachel's eyes... and he was content to go... for a few minutes,  at least.

Ronnie was waiting for him in the hall, baby Judah asleep in his arms. He smiled, and there was a world of strength in that smile. Josh couldn't help but smile back... although his was scarcely more than a shadow. 

"Everyone else is downstairs," Ronnie shifted Judah to one arm and wrapped the other round Josh's shoulders. "Stay strong, my brother. God is with you."

"Is He?" And Josh's smile turned almost bitter. Ronnie didn't answer, just nodded towards the stairs and guided Josh down.

Everyone else was, indeed, downstairs. Rob and Myra, Jim and Donna, Mickey, Rebekah and Rishona, Mac and Katie... even Jamie and Benjie were seated solemnly side by side as if they understood the gravity of the situation. Josh stared at them all vacantly... and then he began to crumble. He felt his body shaking, his knees buckling... he was going to burst into tears again, he could feel them threatening to fall...but then everyone was closing around him, wrapping him in one enormous embrace, holding him up, holding him close.

For a few moments, all was silent, except for muffled sobs. Josh wasn't the only one crying. Rob spoke first, his voice low and gentle.

"You're going through a valley, my son. It's dark, and it's hard, and God seems far away. I know, I know... trust me, I know."

"We all know," Ronnie added softly. "We've all had our valleys. You're not there alone... we're with you... and so is God... even though you can't see Him right now."

"Can't blame Him for this," Mac put in. "Trials come our way... that's how life goes. Just remember this... God is with you, every step of the way."

"He’s carrying you," Myra wiped away her tears. "He's holding you close."

"And Emma?" Josh choked out. "What about Emma?"

"He's holding her too," Rob smiled sadly. "Don't you believe that His hands are big enough? Don't you know His will is best, that your future... and Emma's too... is safe in His hands?"

"But... she's... dying..." and it was all that Josh could say. He could feel his faith failing and desperately, he clutched at the thin strands that remained. He brought back that day on Omaha, remembered the moment that he knew God was with him and he longed for that feeling again. He had never felt so alone as he did now. Even with everyone so close around him...

They knelt together, there on the living room floor. Each one prayed in turn while Josh wept, begging for help, for strength, for comfort... for a miracle. And while they were praying, Rachel's hurried footsteps were heard on the stairs.

"Josh!" she cried, her voice anxious. "She is asking for you, you must come quickly!"

Josh ran... and in moments was with Emma again. It was the first she had spoken in days... but her eyes were barely open. She reached out to him as he fell to his knees at her side, trying to squeeze his hand, but her grip was weak. 

"Hey, Scout..." she whispered hoarsely and Josh leaned closer to catch her words.

"Feeling better, Em?"

She smiled wearily and shook her head. The slight movement seemed to tire her and her eyes closed again. 

"I'm... going soon..." she managed and Josh let out a heartbroken moan. He dropped his head on the pillow, next to hers, as she tried to speak again. "I'm... sorry..." she added brokenly. "I... tried... but..."

"You can't. I won't let you go. You're staying here with me."

"Wish I... could... it is... hard... to... leave you... I... love you... so much..."

She stopped talking and for one horrible moment, Josh felt his heart stop beating. But she was still breathing. He lifted his head, looking back at the family that had trickled into the room after him.

"Send someone for the doctor," he spoke between clenched teeth. "I'm fighting this out."

Cherish Hope

The doctor's face was unreadable as he knelt by Emma's bedside. Slowly and methodically he listened to her heartbeat and changed her IV, his expression thoughtful, revealing nothing. Josh paced anxiously in the background, his hands never still. He had Emma's tiny blue dog clenched in his fist and he fidgeted with it constantly as he waited, holding his breath. 

A mere few minutes passed before the doctor laid down his stethoscope, sighing heavily. Josh stopped his pacing and faced the doctor. He didn't speak, but his question was asked through tortured eyes. 

The doctor shook his head.

"She's a very sick girl," he murmured. "Dying of a broken heart, I'm afraid. It's... best to be prepared, Josh. I'm sorry. She... she was a special one."

"Was?" Josh's voice was choked. He rushed across the room in two giant strides, pushing past the doctor to take Emma's face in his hands. 

"Emma..." he whispered huskily. "Em, can you hear me? Why... why don't you answer me? Emma, I love you, do you hear me?" His voice grew louder until he was shouting. "Emma! Don't leave me! God... don't take her, don't take my Emma!!"

There was no answer from the still form on the bed. Weeping, Josh bent to press a kiss on her silent lips. Again and again he kissed her, her hair, her cheek, her forehead.

"Josh," the doctor spoke softly. "It's best to say your goodbyes. I... I don't know if she'll last through the night."

Josh didn't answer. For a long time he knelt there, his face buried in Emma's hair, his shoulders shaking with silent sobs. The doctor opened the door, nodding to the family waiting anxiously outside.

"You can come in now," he whispered. "But stay quiet."

As Emma's family filed into the room, Josh rose abruptly. In his eyes burned a determined, raging fire. He turned to face the silent spectators and when he spoke, his voice was sharp and firm.

"Take care of her until I get back."

That was all he said before striding calmly from the room, his entire being seeming to radiate purpose. Myra called him to come back, but he didn't so much as look back over his shoulder.

"It's not good," the doctor said grimly. "She only has a few hours... I'd say two days, if she's lucky, but no more than that. She's... slipping away."

                                    oOo

Slowly the hours dragged by. Weeping softly, Emma's family kept a vigil at her bedside. Those who could took turns praying aloud, their tones hushed and reverent. Katie and her mother could not pray. They clung to each other, choked by tears. Rachel murmured in soft German, hiding her face in Ronnie's shoulder.

Hour after hour after hour, and no sign of Josh. The property and town were both searched by anxious friends in whom Myra had confided. No one knew where he had gone. Towards early evening, a phone call reported that Josh had been seen boarding the train. Where he had gone... no one knew.

Darkness fell. Emma's face looked whiter than ever in the moonlight. Her breathing was shallow and slow. The doctor confirmed quietly that the end was near. Katie fell to her knees, laying her head beside her sister's on the pillow.

It was nearing midnight. The sound of tires crunching down the gravel lane went unnoticed by those who kept the death watch. Neighbors and friends had come and gone all day.

But suddenly... Emma stirred. Katie lifted her head and all gathered near in awe, some casting hopeful glances at the doctor. He shook his head, whispering...

"It's time."

"My... my... my baby..." Emma whispered faintly, her lashes fluttering. One thin hand reached out from beneath the blankets as if to grasp something. 

"She will be with her baby soon," Donna murmured brokenly. "God have mercy."

"Josh..." Emma whispered again, turning her head to the door. "My... Josh..."

It was then they noticed rapid footsteps on the stairs... and the door flew open. For one moment Josh stood in the doorway, wild-eyed and frantic, a wrapped bundle pressed tight against his chest. The crowd parted and he rushed to Emma, bending low as he lay the bundle on her heart, moving her arms to encircle it. A soft noise came from the little pink blanket, like the whimper of a tiny kitten... or... a baby...

Speechless with wonder, all watched in astonishment as Josh unwrapped the bundle to reveal a tiny baby. Taking Emma's hand in his, he laid it gently on the baby's downy head.

"This is your baby, my Emma," he whispered, his voice breaking. Tears were streaming silent and unheeded down his face.

Again Emma's eyes fluttered and this time... they opened. She looked up at Josh and then at the baby in her arms, pulling her close, nuzzling her cheek against the baby's soft, dimpled face. And then... she smiled. Smiled lovingly at the baby and up at her husband before sighing wearily and closing her eyes again.

The doctor rushed forward, clasping her wrist to feel her pulse. New life seemed to be rushing through her veins. When he turned to the startled audience, he could barely speak.

"A... a... a miracle..." he whispered in awe. "She... might... make it yet!"

"Josh..." Myra's trembling voice  broke the stunned silence that followed. "Where on earth did you get a baby?"

Josh laughed weakly, managing a wobbly, crooked grin.

"Same place you got me, Mama."

                                                   oOo

It was the wee hours of the morning now and the doctor had shooed everyone out... everyone, that is, except for Josh and the baby. And then the doctor had left himself, promising to be back early in the morning to check on both mother and baby. 

"It's soon to say, I know," the doctor murmured, clasping Josh's hand reassuringly before he left. "But I think she'll be just fine. Although it might take a long, long time before she's back to normal again. That baby... that did it. I don't know how you managed to get a baby, of all things, on the spur of the moment..." and he chuckled, shaking his head. "But that did it. It's a miracle, Josh, a miracle... thank God."

Josh only grinned in answer, shrugging his shoulders wearily. How he had managed... he didn't even know himself. It was all a blur now... running up those orphanage steps, pouring out his story, begging them for help... Perhaps they remembered him, from years ago, when he himself had lived there... perhaps his story touched their hearts... they must have trusted him. Whatever it was, they took him straight up to the nursery and told him... "choose."

He had known instantly, the moment he laid eyes on that tiny, dimpled little baby, cuddled up in her crib, chewing thoughtfully on a tiny, chubby fist. She had looked up at him, big brown eyes blinking trustingly... and his heart had melted.

"This one," he had said. "She's... she's perfect. She's... my baby. Emma's baby."

The papers had been signed rapidly, the baby, wrapped in her little pink blanket, placed in his arms. They sent a nurse from the orphanage along with him to help get the baby settled... but the baby was his, they assured him. Her family hadn't wanted her. They had brought her to the orphanage on the day she was born and just... left her there. 

Emma was sleeping peacefully now... no tortured nightmares, no cries of anguish... just deep, even breathing... just hearing her breathe normally sent a wave of relief through his heart. The baby slept curled up in her arms, her tiny little head pressed against Emma's cheek. For a long, long moment, Josh stood there in silence, smiling down at his wife and daughter. The moon cast a pale, silvery-glow over the two heads on the pillow. All seemed just as it should be.

Not for anything could he have slept that night. He was too filled with thankfulness and joy and relief to sleep for even just one moment. Nor did he want to take his eyes off his precious little family. So much he had lost... and almost lost... and here it was restored to him. Silent prayers of gratitude filling his heart, he lay down beside Emma, pulling her close... the baby snuggled between them. Gently he pressed a kiss on the baby's fuzzy little head and then on Emma's cheek. She smiled, cuddling the baby against her.

"Baby..." she whispered and Josh laughed softly. "My... baby... to... cherish."

"You awake, Em?" he whispered back and she opened her eyes.

"Mmm," she smiled again. "Cherish... cherish..."

She fell asleep again, but still Josh stayed wide awake, his eyes on his treasures. His... to love and cherish. Cherish... cherish... cherish... the word echoed through his mind. Cherish... it would be a pretty name, wouldn't it?

Final Chapter

The crowd was beginning to disperse. Ronnie stood still, clutching his Bible, tracing his fingers slowly over the bullet hole bored through the front cover. Something was stealing over his soul, bit by bit... a sense of... could it be?

Peace...

It was as if for one brief moment he felt himself wrapped in the arms of God. The desperate aching guilt and pain and sorrow simply seemed to dull... and begin to fade away. 

He shuddered, breathing deep in relief as he felt his broken heart healing. It was almost staggering... that sudden, overwhelming relief that was no longer moving slowly, but pouring over him in great waves. The man that stood before him had to speak three times before Ronnie heard... and he choked back a sob as he looked up.

"Mr. Stewart?" the man murmured and Ronnie stared at him in surprise. It was like looking into Josh's face... Josh twenty years older... the same brilliant green eyes, but so surrounded by careworn lines of sorrow.

"Can I help you?"

"You already did," the man smiled faintly. "I just... wanted to say thank you. I... have been tortured by nightmares myself... not just of the war, but of my dear wife and little one I left behind so many years ago... and of the things I did wrong that tore me from my family... I've destroyed my life, son..." he grimaced, a wave of pain washing over his face. "But what you said today... well... I saw a glimmer of hope. I was... hoping... maybe you would pray with me?"

"Course I will," Ronnie smiled back. "What's your name, sir?"

"Just call me Joe," he shrugged. "I'm Josiah Campbell."