11/22/63: A Novel

I remembered the day I had seen Sadie’s full name with part of it blocked out, so all I could read was “Doris Dun.” This was a harmonic of that magnitude. I closed my eyes and visualized the church signboard. Then I visualized putting my hand over IGHTY GOD.

What I was left with was THE WORD OF AL.

Al’s notes. I had his notebook!

But where? Where was it?

The bedroom door opened. Sadie looked in. “Jake? Are you asleep?”

“No,” I said. “Just lying quiet.”

“Did you remember anything?”

“No,” I said. “Sorry.”

“There’s still time.”

“Yes. New things are coming back to me every day.”

“Honey, that was Deke. There’s a bug going around school and he’s caught a good case of it. He asked if I could come in tomorrow and Tuesday. Maybe Wednesday, too.”

“Go in,” I said. “If you don’t, he’ll try to do it himself. And he’s not a young guy anymore.” In my mind, four words flashed on and off like bar neon: THE WORD OF AL, THE WORD OF AL, THE WORD OF AL.

She sat down next to me on the bed. “Are you sure?”

“I’ll be fine. Plenty of company, too. DAVIN comes in tomorrow, remember.” DAVIN was Dallas Area Visiting Nurses. Their main job in my case was to make sure I wasn’t raving, which might indicate that my brain was bleeding after all.

“Right. Nine o’clock. It’s on the calendar, in case you forget. And Dr. Ellerton-”

“Coming for lunch. I remember.”

“Good, Jake. That’s good. ”

“He said he’d bring sandwiches. And milkshakes. Wants to fatten me up.”

“You need fattening up.”

“Plus therapy on Wednesday. Leg-torture in the morning, arm-torture in the afternoon.”

“I don’t like leaving you so close to… you know.”

“If something occurs to me, I’ll call you, Sadie.”

She took my hand and bent close enough so I could smell her perfume and the faint aroma of tobacco on her breath. “Do you promise?”

“Yes. Of course.”

“I’ll be back on Wednesday night at the latest. If Deke can’t come in on Thursday, the library will just have to stay closed.”

“I’ll be fine.”

She kissed me lightly, started out of the room, then turned back. “I almost hope Deke’s right and this whole thing is a delusion. I can’t bear the idea that we know and still might not be able to stop it. That we might just be sitting in the living room and watching on television when somebody-”

“I’ll remember,” I said.

“Will you, Jake?”

“I have to.”

She nodded, but even with the shades drawn, I could read the doubt on her face. “We can still have supper before I go. You close your eyes and let that pill do its work. Get some sleep.”

I closed my eyes, sure I wouldn’t sleep. And that was okay, because I needed to think about the Word of Al. After a little while I could smell something cooking. It smelled good. When I’d first come out of the hospital, still puking or shitting every ten minutes, all smells had revolted me. Now things were better.

I began to drift. I could see Al sitting across from me in one of the diner booths, his paper cap tilted over his left eyebrow. Photos of smalltown bigwigs looked down at us, but Harry Dunning was no longer on the wall. I had saved him. Perhaps the second time I’d saved him from Vietnam, as well. There was no way to be sure.

Still holding you back, isn’t he, buddy? Al asked.

Yes. He still is.

But you’re close now.

Not close enough. I have no idea where I put that goddam notebook of yours.

You put it someplace safe. Does that narrow it down any?

I started to say no, then thought: The Word of Al is safe. Safe. Because-

I opened my eyes, and for the first time in what felt like weeks, a big smile creased my face.

It was in a safe deposit box.

The door opened. “Are you hungry? I kept it warm.”

“Huh?”

“Jake, you’ve been asleep for over two hours.”

I sat up and swung my legs onto the floor. “Then let’s eat.”

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 God!”

“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.”