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CHAPTER 27.

1.

11/17/63 (Sunday) Sadie wanted to do the dishes after the meal she called supper and I called dinner, but I told her to go on and pack her overnight case instead. It was small and blue, with rounded corners.

"Your knee-"

"My knee can stand up to a few dishes. You need to hit the road now if you want a full night's sleep."



Ten minutes later the dishes were done, my fingertips were pruney, and Sadie stood at the door. With her little bag in her hands and her hair curling around her face, she had never looked prettier to me.

"Jake? Tell me one good thing about the future."

Surprisingly few things came. Cell phones? No. Suicide bombers? Probably not. Melting ice caps? Perhaps another time.

Then I grinned. "I'll give you two for the price of one. The cold war is over and the president is a black man."

She started to smile, then saw I wasn't joking. Her mouth dropped open. "Are you telling me there's a Negro in the White House?"

"Yes indeed. Although in my day, such folks prefer to be called African-Americans."

"You're serious?"

"Yes. I am."

"Oh my G.o.d!"

"A great many people said that exact thing the day after the election."

"Is he . . . doing a good job?"

"Opinions vary. If you want mine, he's doing as well as anyone could expect, given the complexities."

"On that note, I think I'll drive back to Jodie." She laughed distractedly. "In a daze."

She walked down the ramp, put her case in the cubby that served as her Beetle's trunk, then blew me a kiss. She started to get in, but I couldn't let her go like that. I couldn't run-Dr. Perry said that was still eight months away, maybe even a year-but I limped down the ramp as fast as I could.

"Wait, Sadie, wait a minute!"

Mr. Kenopensky was sitting next door in his wheelchair, bundled up in a jacket and holding his battery-powered Motorola in his lap. On the sidewalk, Norma Whitten was making her slow way down toward the mailbox on the corner, using a pair of wooden sticks more like ski poles than crutches. She turned and waved to us, trying to lift the frozen side of her face into a smile.

Sadie looked at me questioningly in the twilight.

"I just wanted to tell you something," I said. "I wanted to tell you you're the best d.a.m.ned thing that ever happened to me."

She laughed and hugged me. "Ditto, kind sir."

We kissed a long time, and might have kissed longer but for the dry clapping sound on our right. Mr. Kenopensky was applauding.

Sadie pulled away, but took me by the wrists. "You'll call me, won't you? Keep me . . . what's that thing you say? In the loop?"

"That's it, and I will." I had no intention of keeping her in the loop. Deke or the police, either.

"Because you can't do this on your own, Jake. You're too weak."

"I know that," I said. Thinking: I better not be. "Call me so I know you got back safe."

When her Bug turned the corner and disappeared, Mr. Kenopensky said, "Better mind your p's and q's, Amberson. That one's a keeper."

"I know." I stayed at the foot of the driveway long enough to make sure Miz Whitten got back from the mailbox without falling down.

She made it.

I went back inside.

2.

The first thing I did was to get my key ring off the top of the dresser and pick through the keys, surprised that Sadie had never shown them to me to see if they'd jog my memory . . . but of course she couldn't think of everything. There were an even dozen. I had no idea what most of them went to, although I was pretty sure the Schlage opened the front door of my house in . . . was it Sabattus? I thought that was right, but I wasn't sure.

There was one small key on the ring. Stamped on it was FC and 775. It was a safe deposit box key, all right, but what was the bank? First Commercial? That sounded bankish, but it wasn't right.

I closed my eyes and looked into darkness. I waited, almost sure what I wanted would come . . . and it did. I saw a checkbook in a faux alligator cover. I saw myself flipping it open. This was surprisingly easy. Printed on the top check was not only my Land of Ago name but my last official Land of Ago address.

214 W. Neely St. Apartment 1 Dallas, TX I thought: That's where my car got stolen from.

And I thought: Oswald. The a.s.sa.s.sin's name is Oswald Rabbit.

No, of course not. He was a man, not a cartoon character. But it was close.

"I'm coming for you, Mr. Rabbit," I said. "Still coming."

3.

The phone rang shortly before nine-thirty. Sadie was home safe. "Don't suppose anything came to you, did it? I'm a pest, I know."

"Nothing. And you're the farthest thing in the world from a pest." She was also going to be the farthest thing in the world from Oswald Rabbit, if I had anything to do about it. Not to mention his wife, whose name might or might not be Mary, and his little girl, who I felt sure was named April.

"You were pulling my leg about a Negro being in the White House, weren't you?"

I smiled. "Wait awhile. You can see for yourself."

4.

11/18/63 (Monday) The DAVIN nurses, one old and formidable, the other young and pretty, arrived at 9:00 A.M. sharp. They did their thing. When the older one felt that I had grimaced, twitched, and moaned enough, she handed me a paper envelope with two pills in it. "Pain."

"I don't really think-"

"Take em," she said-a woman of few words. "Freebies."

I popped them in my mouth, cheeked them, swallowed water, then excused myself to use the bathroom. There I spat them out.

When I returned to the kitchen, the older nurse said: "Good progress. Don't overdo."

"Absolutely not."

"Catch them?"

"Beg pardon?"

"The a.s.sholes who beat you up."

"Uh . . . not yet."

"Doing something you shouldn't have been doing?"

I gave her my widest smile, the one Christy used to say made me look like a game-show host on crack. "I don't remember."

5.

Dr. Ellerton came for lunch, bringing huge roast beef sandwiches, crispy french fries dripping in grease, and the promised milkshakes. I ate as much as I could manage, which was really quite a lot. My appet.i.te was returning.

"Mike talked up the idea of doing yet another variety show," he said. "This time to benefit you. In the end, wiser heads prevailed. A small town can only give so much." He lit a cigarette, dropped the match into the ashtray on the table, and inhaled with gusto. "Any chance the police will catch the mugs who tuned up on you? What do you hear?"

"Nothing, but I doubt it. They cleaned out my wallet, stole my car, and split."

"What were you doing on that side of Dallas, anyway? It's not exactly the high-society part of town."

Well, apparently I lived there.

"I don't remember. Visiting someone, maybe."

"Are you getting plenty of rest? Not straining the knee too much?"

"No." Although I suspected I'd be straining it plenty before much longer.

"Still falling asleep suddenly?"

"That's quite a bit better."

"Terrific. I guess-"

The phone rang. "That'll be Sadie," I said. "She calls on her lunch break."

"I have to be shoving off, anyway. It's great to see you putting on weight, George. Say h.e.l.lo to the pretty lady for me."

I did so. She asked me if any pertinent memories were coming back. I knew by her delicate phrasing that she was calling from the school's main office-and would have to pay Mrs. Coleridge for the long-distance when she was done. Besides keeping the DCHS exchequer, Mrs. Coleridge had long ears.

I told her no, no new memories, but I was going to take a nap and hope something would be there when I woke up. I added that I loved her (it was nice to say something that was the G.o.d's honest), asked after Deke, wished her a good afternoon, and hung up. But I didn't take a nap. I took my car keys and my briefcase and drove downtown. I hoped to G.o.d I'd have something in that briefcase when I came back.

6.

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11/22/63 Part 74 summary

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