it.
She raised her face to kiss him. She breathed in his warmth. There was a long pause while they lay in silence.
‘Do you forgive me?’ she asked at length.
‘There’s nothing to forgive.’ He kissed her lips. ‘Everything is going to be fine. You’re going to be fine.’
She nodded. ‘Thank you, Michael.’
She didn’t really feel reassured. But she did feel better. Michael always made her feel better.
The phone rang while Michael was in the shower. Naked, Susan darted into the hallway and picked it up.
‘Hello?’
‘Susan.’ The voice was female, low and somewhat husky.
‘Yes?’
‘Susan, I just wanted to let you know something.’
‘Who is this? There must be a mistake …’
‘Susan, Dan Everhardt is not going to get well.’
‘I’m sorry? What did you say?’
‘You heard me. Everhardt will not get well. The president is going to have to appoint a new vice president.’
Susan saw herself in the hall mirror. Her hair was awry, her breasts still moist from her sex with Michael.
‘I really don’t understand … Who is this?’ she asked.
‘Your husband will be the president’s choice, Susan.’
‘My husband? What are you talking about?’
‘I just wanted you to know. We’ll talk again soon.’
‘I – who is this? What are you talking about?’
A low laugh sounded on the line.
‘You’ll understand everything, Susan. In time.’
The caller hung up.
Susan put down the phone. She stood for a moment looking at her naked image in the mirror. She crossed her arms over her breasts as though to hide them. Then she felt a sudden chill, and hurried back to the bed to wait for Michael.
Manchester, New HampshireNovember 2411:30 A.M.
His name was Erroll, like the pianist.
They called him ‘Radio Flyer’ because he was always talking about radio waves. Feeling them, hearing them, even seeing them.
He had been homeless for eleven years now, since they closed the state hospital. He slept in abandoned buildings, ate at shelters, and drank everything from Ripple to lighter fluid.
He carried an old Walkman he had found in the trash years ago. He was rarely seen without the little earphones in his ears. He usually had an intent, busy air about him as he dug into garbage cans, bent to collect scraps of newspaper, or, quite often, stood outside appliance stores staring at news broadcasts on display TV sets.
There were those who wondered if there was any sound coming through his famous earphones. ‘He doesn’t need sound,’ said some. ‘He’s got plenty of voices in his head.’
Today, though, the twenty-four-hour all-news station was actually penetrating to Erroll’s brain, for he had put new batteries into the Walkman two weeks ago and they were still running. He nodded knowingly as he listened to the news.
The two beat cops in their cruiser smelled him almost before they saw him. He had an unforgettable odor of stale sweat, urine, alcohol, and tooth decay. They were never glad to see him, for he was full of garbled stories of aliens who were bombarding him with waves.
‘They weren’t supposed to radiate me,’ he would say, ‘but there was a mix-up. They got the wrong guy. Now these rays are killing me, and I can’t get them to stop.’
Usually the cops took him to a shelter whose personnel then escorted him to a clinic where he got medication. But more often than not he didn’t take the medication. He said it made him drool.
Today he shambled toward the cruiser with a bit more purpose than usual. As he approached the car he took off his earphones.
‘Morning, Erroll,’ said the driver. ‘What’s on your mind?’
‘I found a dead body,’ he said.
‘You found a body?’ the driver asked.
‘A dead person,’ he said. ‘Smells, too. Maybe a few days. Wait till you see the hands and feet.’
‘Hands and feet? What are you talking about, Erroll?’
The bum was visibly excited.
‘I keep telling you guys. The men upstairs are making changes. I’m not the only one. Wait till you see the hands and feet.’
‘Where is it, Erroll?’
‘In a Dumpster in the alley off Chestnut Street. Been there all morning.’
The two cops looked at each other. They had long since learned not to attribute any truth to Erroll’s pronouncements. But a body in a Dumpster was something that had to be checked out.
‘Are you sure about this, Erroll?’
‘As God is my judge. I told you there would be changes. I’m not the only one. Just wait till you see.’
The driver sighed. ‘Okay, Erroll. Get in and you can show us.’
They both wrinkled their noses at his smell after he got into the backseat. He gave them directions. They knew the alley well. Traffic was light, so they would be there inside five minutes.
The younger cop was in a happy mood and decided to make conversation with Erroll on the way.
‘How’ve you been, Erroll?’
‘Not so good this week. This pain in my joints … It’s just arthritis. But the waves aggravate it.’
‘What waves?’
‘The radio waves.’ Erroll took on a brooding look. ‘You can’t just bombard healthy tissue with them. It plays hell with arthritis. I told them it can damage tissue. But nobody listens to me.’
‘Who did you tell, Erroll?’
‘The new doctor over at the clinic. I’m sending some circulars around to the state health authorities, too, but I have to get a stamp first.’
‘What kind of stamp, Erroll?’
‘A rate stamp. It tells your rate so they know how to sort the mail.’
The cop turned around. ‘Rate? What sort of rate?’
‘Your rate in the organization,’ Erroll explained. ‘I’m 513, but that’s only because I missed my last review. You guys, you have it made. You’re set for life. A cop, that’s 915 or better. What I couldn’t do with 915!’ Erroll looked moodily at the buildings passing by the window.
‘Uh-huh,’ the cop said, glancing at his partner with a meaningful look.
‘But I’ll get my rate back and more after today,’ Erroll said. ‘Just wait till you see. I told you there’d be changes.’
‘What kind of changes?’ asked the driver.
‘All kinds of changes,’ Erroll said darkly. ‘I told you, I’m not the only one. Everything is going to change.’
The cruiser pulled into an alley between two rows of very old office buildings. The Dumpster was about halfway down.
‘Is this it, Erroll?’ the younger