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“I absolutely do. And you’re forgetting something very important.” She took my hands and looked
into my eyes. “I’m not just your best girl, Jake . . . if that’s what I still am to you—”
“That’s exactly why it’s so goddam scary having you turn up like this.”
“You say a man’s going to shoot the president, and I have reason to believe you, based on the other
things that you’ve predicted that have come true. Even Deke’s half-persuaded. ‘He knew Kennedy was
coming before Kennedy knew it,’ he said. ‘Right down to the day and the hour. And he knew the
Missus was coming along for the ride.’ But you say it as if you were the only person who cared. You’re
not. Deke cares. He would have been here if he wasn’t still running a fever of a hundred and one. And I
care. I didn’t vote for him, but I happen to be an American, and that makes him not just the president
but my president. Does that sound corny to you?”
“No.”
“Good.” Her eyes were snapping. “I have no intention of letting some crazy person shoot him, and I
have no intention of falling asleep.”
“Sadie—”
“Let me finish. We don’t have much time, so you need to dig out your ears. Are they dug?”
“Yessum.”
“Good. You’re not getting rid of me. Let me repeat: not. I’m going. If you won’t let me into your
Chevy, I’ll follow you in my Beetle.”
“Jesus Christ,” I said, and didn’t know if I was cursing or praying.
“If we ever get married, I’ll do what you say, as long as you’re good to me. I was raised to believe
that’s a wife’s job.” (Oh ye child of the sixties, I thought.) “I’m ready to leave everything I know behind
and follow you into the future. Because I love you and because I believe that future you talk about is
really there. I’ll probably never give you another ultimatum, but I’m giving you one now. You do this
with me or you don’t do it at all.”
I thought about this, and carefully. I asked myself if she meant it. The answer was as clear as the
scar on her face.
Sadie, meanwhile, was looking at the Crayola Girls. “Who do you suppose drew these? They’re
actually quite good.”
“Rosette did them,” I said. “Rosette Templeton. She went back to Mozelle with her mamma after
her daddy had an accident.”
“And then you moved in?”
“No, across the street. A little family named Oswald moved in here.”
“Is that his name, Jake? Oswald?”
“Yes. Lee Oswald.”
“Am I coming with you?”
“Do I have a choice?”
She smiled and put her hand on my face. Until I saw that relieved smile, I had no idea of how
frightened she must have been when she shook me awake. “No, honey,” she said. “Not that I can see.
That’s why they call it an ultimatum.”
2
We put her suitcase in the Chevrolet. If we stopped Oswald (and weren’t arrested), we could get her
Beetle later and she could drive it back to Jodie, where it would look normal and at home in her
driveway. If things didn’t go well—if we failed, or succeeded only to find ourselves on the hook for