{"id":4177,"date":"2020-12-03T22:05:06","date_gmt":"2020-12-04T05:05:06","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/underthetablebooks.com\/blog\/?p=4177"},"modified":"2020-12-05T21:30:36","modified_gmt":"2020-12-06T04:30:36","slug":"stephen-ornofsky","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/underthetablebooks.com\/blog\/archives\/4177","title":{"rendered":"3. Stephen Ornofsky"},"content":{"rendered":"\n
\"\"<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

\u201cCelia will be here any minute,\u201d says Maya Johansen, small and slender and seventy-seven, confined to a wheelchair for the last fifteen years. \u201cGo on now, Stephen. You\u2019ll be late.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou know my pub show never starts\npromptly at eight,\u201d says Stephen Ornofsky, Maya\u2019s live-in caretaker for nine\nyears now, a handsome fellow of thirty-four with short brown hair and\nwire-framed glasses. \u201cYou also know I\u2019m incapable of leaving you alone at\nnight. So just relax and enjoy my company until Celia gets here.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The month is June, the time ten\nminutes after eight in the evening of a sunny day. Maya and Stephen are seated\nat a large rectangular wooden table on the deck of Maya\u2019s rambling one-story\nredwood house in the northern California coastal town of Melody. With a few\nminutes of daylight left to them, they survey the remains of the delicious fish\nsupper Stephen prepared for them and drink the last of their fine white wine. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Stephen\u2019s two dogs, Hortensio, a big\nblack mutt, and Moose, a small brown Chihuahua, are sprawled on the edge of the\ndeck gazing out over Stephen\u2019s big vegetable garden and down the hill into town,\nwhile Stephen\u2019s enormous orange cat Harpo sits in the chair next to Stephen\u2019s\nand gazes expectantly at his favorite human and hopes for one more piece of delicious\ncod. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Maya, who was born in Sweden and\ncame to the United States when she was seven, a renowned dancer and\nchoreographer before her terrible car accident, is wearing a black sweater over\na blue T-shirt and baggy gray cotton trousers, her long white hair in a braid. She\nis belted into her old wicker wheelchair so she won\u2019t fall out should she make\nany abrupt movements with the upper half of her body, movements she often makes.\nBeing paralyzed from the waist down, she must be secured with a seatbelt or these\nsudden movements might topple her out of her chair.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Stephen, who was born just ten miles\nnorth of Melody in the big town of Mill City, is wearing black corduroy\ntrousers and a matching sports jacket over a pale pink dress shirt, his usual\nattire for his Thursday night gig at McCarthy\u2019s<\/em>,\na gig he\u2019s had for seven years.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWill you premiere your new song\ntonight?\u201d asks Maya, who loves it when Stephen sings to her. \u201cI hope so and I\nhope there\u2019s a marvelous woman in the audience who falls madly in love with\nyou, and you with her.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI may sing that song tonight,\u201d says\nStephen, smiling at Maya\u2019s fantasy. \u201cI was going to last week, but ran out of\ntime.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cMaybe start<\/em> with the new song tonight,\u201d says Maya, who every few months\ninsists on attending Stephen\u2019s show despite the hassle, but of late she\u2019s been\ntoo tired in the evening to go anywhere.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI am now habituated to opening with\nthe raven song,\u201d says Stephen, rising at the sound of tires crunching the\ngravel driveway\u2014Celia Flores being dropped off by her husband Miguel. \u201cAfter\nwhich Mabel habitually drops a ten-dollar bill in the tip jar to show the\nothers how it\u2019s done, dear woman. And then<\/em>\nI\u2019ll sing the new song.\u201d He goes to Maya and kisses her cheek. \u201cSee you in the\nmorning.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSleep in if you want,\u201d says Maya,\nwho always cries a little when Stephen leaves her. \u201cCelia can make breakfast,\nthough lately she\u2019s been overcooking the eggs.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Stephen meets Celia at the front\ndoor and says, \u201cHere you are, beautiful as ever.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cLo siento Esteban,\u201d says Celia, a\nMexican woman in her fifties dressed in white sweater and black slacks, her\nlong black hair in a bun. \u201cThe car wouldn\u2019t start and we had to get a jump from\nour neighbor. Forgive me.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNothing to forgive,\u201d he says, finding\nCelia adorable. \u201cMaya would love a bath tonight. She\u2019ll say don\u2019t bother, but I\nknow she\u2019d love one and would especially love for you to wash her hair. Every\ntime you do, she waxes euphoric.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOf course,\u201d says Celia, nodding\nanxiously. \u201cYou better go now. I\u2019m so sorry we make you late for your show.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNot to worry,\u201d says Stephen, picking\nup his guitar case. \u201cI\u2019ll see you in the morning if you aren\u2019t up when I get\nhome.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

*<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The coastal fog, having withdrawn a\nmile offshore for the day, returns to blanket the town for the night as Stephen\nwalks the long three blocks from Maya\u2019s house to downtown Melody where the\ncrowd at McCarthy\u2019s<\/em> awaits him, many\nin that crowd having known Stephen since he was a teenager and played his\nguitar and sang his songs on the corner in front of the post office.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Stephen loves this three-block walk,\nloves the fog filling in the spaces between the houses, loves being alive.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

A quiet child and exceedingly bright,\nStephen needed glasses at five, started playing guitar when he was six, and did\nwell in school until his second year of high school when his home life became\nuntenable and he took to staying with friends whose parents would allow him to sleep\non their sofas. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

When he was sixteen, he bought an\nold Volkswagen van, dropped out of school, and for eighteen months lived in his\nvan on his friend Lisa\u2019s driveway a mile inland from Melody. A few months after\nhe moved to Lisa\u2019s driveway, Stephen fell into a deep depression and Lisa\u2019s\nfather Joseph paid for Stephen to go to a therapist. After a year of therapy, no\nlonger depressed, Stephen moved into the town of Melody, and after another year\nof living in his van was able to rent a house with two friends and start giving\nguitar lessons to go with his gardening work. \n<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAnd here I am,\u201d says Stephen, arriving\nat McCarthy\u2019s<\/em>, Melody\u2019s largest\nperformance venue not counting the Presbyterian church. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

A little pod of his fans who smoke\nare standing in front of the pub having a few last puffs before the show.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Malcolm Hawkins, a big hulking\nfellow in a long black coat says, \u201cYou\u2019re late, Stevie. I\u2019m going into\nwithdrawals. Quick. Sing something.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou are the sunshine of my life,\u201d\nsings Stephen, crooning a little Stevie Wonder. \u201cSee you inside.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSaved,\u201d says Tommy, dropping his\ncigarette and snuffing it out with his shoe as he follows Stephen into the pub.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

*<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The place is full, standing room\nonly, and people applaud when they see Stephen come in, which is McCarthy\u2019s cue\nto go up on the little stage and give a brief introduction. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

McCarthy, sixty-nine, short and\nmuscular, his bald pate reflecting the stage lights, taps the microphone to\nhear the amplified pop and says, \u201cAnd now embarking on his eighth year of\nperforming here we give you the one and only Stephen Ornofsky.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Having shed his jacket and strapped\non his small teak guitar, Stephen takes the stage to loud applause, starts to\nstrum, and when he\u2019s happy with his sound, moves close to the microphone and sings\nObadiah, Obadiah, Obadiah my love, I\nwatched you write love poems in the blue sky above. I watched you write words\nwith your ink black wings, and put them to music for something to sing.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Now he nods to the audience and dozens\nof people sing along as he repeats the verse, some people singing harmonies\nthey\u2019ve figured out over the years of singing along with Stephen, some singing the\nmelody, the pub transformed into a church of beer-drinking revelers.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

At song\u2019s end, Stephen steps back\nfrom the microphone and Mabel Lundquist, who always sits up front with her\npartner Suse Malone, makes a pretty show of dropping a ten-dollar bill into the\nwhite shoebox with TIPS<\/em> writ large on\nthe side.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cMerci Mabel,\u201d says Stephen, bowing\nto her. \u201cThank you all for coming tonight. I want to follow Obadiah<\/em> with a brand new song that\u2026\u201d\nStephen freezes at the sight of someone in the audience. \u201cOh my God. Joseph. Haven\u2019t\nseen you in forever. And this new song\u2026 the one I\u2019m about to sing\u2026 I wrote for\nyou.\u201d He shakes his head in wonder. \u201cWhat are the odds?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

A hush falls over the room.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNot to put you on the spot,\nJoseph,\u201d says Stephen, playing an eloquent chord, \u201cbut how are you?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019m good,\u201d says Joseph, who is\nseventy-five and sharing a table with a beautiful young woman. \u201cOnly now I\u2019m nervous\nabout this song you\u2019re gonna sing.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The audience laughs appreciatively.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI believe in everything now,\u201d says Stephen,\nplaying the eloquent chord again and launching into a swingin\u2019 tune, the verses\nof which comprise a fantastical version of Stephen\u2019s autobiography, the chorus:\n<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Joe\nJoe Joseph Joe, he may not know it, <\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

but\nhe saved my soul, yes he saved my soul <\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

and\nhe saved my life, Joseph fantastico Joe.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

*<\/p>\n\n\n\n

 Stephen goes to Joseph\u2019s table between sets and\nhe and Joseph embrace.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI finally write a song for you\nafter all these years,\u201d says Stephen, stepping back from Joseph to look at him,\n\u201cand you show up the first time I sing it. And they say there\u2019s no such thing\nas cosmic synchronicity. Ha!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cStephen this is Carmen,\u201d says\nJoseph, gesturing to the lovely woman at his table. \u201cCarmen, Stephen.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cA pleasure,\u201d says Stephen, gazing\nat the beautiful brunette. \u201cI\u2019ve never seen you before, so I\u2019m guessing you\neither just<\/em> moved here or you\u2019re\nvisiting from elsewhere, Hollywood perhaps.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSanta Rosa,\u201d says Carmen, giving\nStephen an adoring look. \u201cI love<\/em> your\nmusic and you\u2019re very funny.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhat brings you to Melody?\u201d asks\nStephen, enthralled by her. \u201cPermanent residency we hope.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cJoe and I are making a movie\ntogether,\u201d she says, acknowledging Stephen\u2019s hope with an arching of her\neyebrow, \u201cand we\u2019re planning to shoot it here on the coast, so I\u2019ve been coming\nover now and then to work with him. I\u2019d love<\/em>\nto live here, but\u2026 all in good time.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cA movie. How wonderful,\u201d says\nStephen, nodding his thanks to the waitress for bringing him a beer. \u201cIf you\nneed any music, keep me in mind. I play piano, too. Kind of metaphysical\nambient jazz.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWe will<\/em> keep you in mind,\u201d says Joseph, winking at Carmen. \u201cYou grew\nup, Stephen. I had you frozen in time. I\u2019m so glad you\u2019re doing well.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThank you, Joseph,\u201d says Stephen,\nnodding gratefully. \u201cI couldn\u2019t have done it without you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cListen,\u201d says Joseph, clearing his\nthroat. \u201cI want to apologize for\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNo need,\u201d says Stephen, gently\ninterrupting. \u201cYou were going through a very rough time and I was ready to go.\nI have nothing but gratitude for what you did for me.\u201d He looks at Carmen. \u201cHe allowed\nme to live at his place and paid for me to get some therapy when I really\nneeded it.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHe told me,\u201d says Carmen, looking\nfrom Stephen to Joseph and back to Stephen.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAnd now I must take the stage\nagain,\u201d says Stephen, bowing to Joseph. \u201cWonderful seeing you again.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

*<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The next morning, Stephen wakes\nearly and takes his dogs for a walk through the foggy town to the post office\nwhere he finds in his box two letters from faraway friends and the latest issue\nof Galapagos<\/em>, a literary quarterly that\npublished two of Stephen\u2019s poems a few years ago, the only two poems he\u2019s ever had\npublished.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

When he gets back to the house, he\nfinds Celia making coffee in the kitchen, still in her nightgown, her hair down,\nno makeup on yet, which is how Stephen prefers her.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cShe wants you to make the eggs\ntoday,\u201d says Celia, giving Stephen a sleepy smile. \u201cYou want me to get her out\nof bed and you make the eggs?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou never<\/em> overcook the eggs,\u201d says Stephen, feeling marvelous. \u201cHow\u2019s\nyour back this morning?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cA little sore,\u201d she says, shrugging.\n\u201cI put her in the bath last night, wash her hair, get her out of the bath,\ndress her, into her chair, then out of her chair into bed. But I can do this\nmorning.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhy not straight to bed from the\nbath?\u201d he asks, which is what Maya always wants when Stephen bathes her at\nnight.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cShe want to wait up for you,\u201d says\nCelia, nodding. \u201cBut then she gets too tired.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019ll get her out of bed this\nmorning,\u201d says Stephen, wanting to caress Celia, but not daring to. \u201cAnd if you\nwill chop up strawberries and bananas, I\u2019ll make pancakes for breakfast.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

*<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Fridays and Saturdays and Tuesdays\nare technically Stephen\u2019s days off from caring for Maya, but because he lives\nwith her and they eat most of their meals together and they are devoted to each\nother, the lines blur on those days. Celia is there from Thursday evening\nthrough Sunday late morning, and Josephine comes on Monday evening and stays\nuntil Tuesday evening, so Stephen feels much freer on those days to do as he\npleases.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

* <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Pancakes devoured, Celia goes to\ntake a shower and dress for the day, and Stephen does the dishes and tells Maya\nabout the amazing coincidence of Joseph being in the audience for the unveiling\nof Joseph Fantastico Joe<\/em>.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019ve never told you,\u201d says Maya,\ngazing out the kitchen window, \u201cthat Joe asked me to marry him.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhen?\u201d asks Stephen, shocked she\nwithheld this from him until now.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThe year before my accident,\u201d she\nsays, vividly remembering those last months of being able to walk. \u201cAfter Irene\nleft him we kept bumping into each other around town and having wonderful\nconversations, and I\u2019d been single for three years, so we went out for supper\nand went to a couple movies and plays, and then we took a trip together, motel\nhopping up the coast from here to Astoria and back, and when we got home he\nasked me to marry him.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAnd?\u201d asks Stephen, expectantly.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI said \u2018Why get married? Why not\njust be friends and lovers?\u2019 And he said, \u2018No. I need to know we\u2019re committed\nto each other.\u2019 And I said, \u2018Isn\u2019t loving each other enough?\u2019 And he got very\nangry and said, \u2018Saying<\/em> you love\nsomeone isn\u2019t the same as proving<\/em> you\nlove them. And marriage is proof.\u2019 I laughed. I couldn\u2019t help myself. I said,\n\u201cI\u2019ve been married twice, you\u2019ve been married three times. What did getting\nmarried prove? Nothing as far as I can see.\u2019 And that was that. He didn\u2019t speak\nto me again until a couple months after the accident when he called to ask if\nhe could help, and I said, \u2018I\u2019ll let you know,\u2019 but I never wanted anything\nfrom him.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

*<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Stephen is in the vegetable garden\nweeding the broccoli when Celia comes out on the deck with the carry-around\nphone. \u201cFor you Esteban. Should I take a message?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNo, I\u2019ll come,\u201d he says, climbing\nthe five stairs to the deck and taking the phone from her. \u201cHello?\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cStephen, it\u2019s Carmen. We met at the\npub last night. I was with Joe.\u201d She waits for him to reply, and when he\ndoesn\u2019t, she says, \u201cI think you\u2019re the only person in the world who calls him\nJoseph.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOh Carmen<\/em>,\u201d he says, remembering her now. \u201cBeautiful name and not easy\nto rhyme.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cCharmin\u2019?\u201d she suggests. \u201cAlarmin\u2019.\nDisarmin.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

 \u201cOf course. Silly me. Hadn\u2019t thought to excise\nthe g<\/em>. I\u2019ll get to work on that song\nright away.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOh good,\u201d she says, laughing. \u201cI\u2019m\ncalling because Joe and I are wondering if you\u2019d be interested in being in our\nmovie.\u201d Again she waits for Stephen to reply, and again he says nothing. \u201cThere\nwill be an initial two or three days of the cast improvising scenes, after\nwhich Joe and I will write the script, and then there will be two weeks of filming\nin and around Melody. September-ish. We can pay you four thousand dollars.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWho else is in the cast?\u201d asks\nStephen, who until now has never even thought about being in a movie.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cJoseph and I, a wonderful actress\nnamed Patricia, Murray of Murray\u2019s\nSeafood<\/em>, and you. Would you like to meet for coffee and talk about this?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSure,\u201d says Stephen, more interested in seeing Carmen again than being in a movie. \u201cWhere and when?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cMurray\u2019s Seafood<\/em> in an hour. We\u2019ll treat you to lunch if you haven\u2019t eaten already.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

*<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Stephen informs Celia and Maya he\u2019s\ngoing to meet Joseph and Carmen for lunch at Murray\u2019s Seafood<\/em>, which prompts a powwow about supper resulting in the\ndecision that he bring home three orders of fish & chips.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He shaves, puts on his green Murray\u2019s Seafood<\/em> sweatshirt over his\nblack McCarthy\u2019s<\/em> T-shirt, decides to\nwear jeans instead of shorts, and heads downtown. On his way, he imagines being\nin a movie with Carmen, and in every scene they tumble into bed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

*<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Joseph and Carmen sit side-by-side\nfacing Stephen across the table.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Carmen looks darling in a billowy\nwhite blouse, her dark brown hair in a braid coiled on top of her head.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Joseph looks exhausted, his blue\nHawaiian shirt faded and wrinkled.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSo\u2026\u201d says Joseph, smiling a tired\nsmile, \u201cwhat more can we tell you?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWell,\u201d says Stephen, who is now\nvastly more interested in Carmen than being in their movie, \u201cI understand you\nhave yet to write the script, but the cast you\u2019ve assembled suggests you have\nan inkling of what the movie might be about. Yes?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThe quest for a meaningful life,\u201d\nsays Carmen, matter-of-factly, \u201cand possibly meeting a soul mate or two along\nthe way.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Stephen considers this and smiles\nwistfully. \u201cI think you will find I\u2019m not much of an actor. Maya and I have a\nplay-reading group and I\u2019m renowned for sounding pretty much the same no matter\nwhat part I\u2019m reading.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThat\u2019s true of most movie actors,\u201d\nsays Joseph, who has directed several big-budget movies. \u201cAlec Guinness and\nPeter Sellers were the exceptions not the rule.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWe want<\/em> you to be you,\u201d says Carmen, nodding in agreement with Joseph.\n\u201cOnly you won\u2019t be Stephen. You\u2019ll be someone else. Patricia might be your\nmother or your lover, or you might be Joseph\u2019s son or his nephew or his neighbor,\nor you might be my brother or\u2026 but whoever you are, you\u2019ll still be you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cLike being in a dream?\u201d says\nStephen, trying to understand. \u201cI\u2019m still me, though the dream is nothing like\nmy waking reality?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cExactly,\u201d says Carmen, crazy about him.\n\u201cWe will be in a dream together and film the dream.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Mystery Sweet<\/a><\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

\u201cCelia will be here any minute,\u201d says Maya Johansen, small and slender and seventy-seven, confined to a wheelchair for the last fifteen years. \u201cGo on now, Stephen. You\u2019ll be late.\u201d \u201cYou know my pub show never starts promptly at eight,\u201d says Stephen Ornofsky, Maya\u2019s live-in caretaker for nine years now, a handsome fellow of thirty-four […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[6287,6285,6293,6263,6286,6291,6259,6288,6261,6290,6281,6292,6284,6282,6270,51,6275,6289,6294,9,33],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/underthetablebooks.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4177"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/underthetablebooks.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/underthetablebooks.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/underthetablebooks.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/underthetablebooks.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=4177"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/underthetablebooks.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4177\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":4185,"href":"https:\/\/underthetablebooks.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4177\/revisions\/4185"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/underthetablebooks.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=4177"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/underthetablebooks.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=4177"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/underthetablebooks.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=4177"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}