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“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 assassin’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