“Regards to Rosette,” I said. “Tell her I’ll see her in her dreams.”
She stopped smiling. “I hope not, mister. That one she had about you was a nightmare. Bout screamed the house down, she did. Woke me out of a dead sleep at two in the morning. She said the man who cotched her ball had a monster in the backseat of his car, and she was afraid it would eat her up. Scared the life out of me, she did, screamin like that.”
“Did the monster have a name?” Of course it did.
“She said it was a jimla. Prob’ly meant a jinny, like in those stories about Aladdin and the Seven Veils. Anyway, I gotta go. You take care of yourself.”
“You too, Ivy. Merry Christmas.”
She cawed her rainbird laugh again. “Almost forgot about that. You have one, too. Don’t forget to give your girl a present.”
She trotted to her old car with my coat-her coat, now-thrown over her shoulders. I never saw her again.
The rain only froze on the bridges, and I knew from my other life-the one in New England-to be careful on those, but it was still a long drive back to Jodie. I had no more than put the water on for a cup of tea when the phone rang. This time it was Sadie.
“I’ve been trying to get you since suppertime to ask you about Coach Borman’s Christmas Eve bash. It starts at three. I’ll go if you want to take me, because then we can get away early. Say we’ve got dinner reservations at The Saddle, or something. I need to RSVP, though.”
I saw my own invitation lying next to my typewriter, and felt a little twinge of guilt. It had been there for three days, and I hadn’t even opened it.
“Do you want to go?” I asked.
“I wouldn’t mind making an appearance.” There was a pause. “Where have you been all this time?”
“Fort Worth.” I almost added, Christmas shopping. But I didn’t. The only thing I’d bought in Fort Worth was some information. And a housekey.
“Were you shopping?”
Again I had to fight not to lie. “I… Sadie, I really can’t say.”
There was a long, long pause. I found myself wishing I smoked. Probably I had developed a contact addiction. God knew I was smoking by proxy all day, every day. The teachers’ room was a constant blue haze.
“Is it a woman, George? Another woman? Or am I being nosy?”
Well, there was Ivy, but that wasn’t the kind of woman she was talking about.
“In the woman department, there’s only you.”
Another of those long, long pauses. In the world, Sadie could move carelessly; in her head, she never did. At last she said, “You know a lot about me, things I never thought I could tell anyone, but I know almost nothing about you. I guess I just realized that. Sadie can be stupid, George, can’t she?”
“You’re not stupid. And one thing you do know is that I love you.”
“Yes…” She sounded doubtful. I remembered the bad dream I’d had that night at the Candlewood Bungalows, and the caution I’d seen in her face when I told her I didn’t remember it. Was that same look on her face now? Or perhaps an expression a little deeper than mere caution?
“Sadie? Are we all right?”
“Yes.” Sounding a little more sure now. “Sure we are. Except for Coach’s party. What do you want to do about it? Remember that the whole darn School Department will be there, and most of them will be drunk on their fannies by the time Mrs. Coach puts on the buffet.”
“Let’s go,” I said, too heartily. “Party down and kick out the jams.”
“Kick out the what?”
“Have some fun. That’s all I meant. We’ll pop in for an hour, maybe an hour and a half, then pop back out. Dinner at The Saddle. That work for you?”
“Fine.” We were like a couple negotiating for a second date after the first one had been inconclusive. “We’ll enjoy ourselves.”
I thought about Ivy Templeton smelling the ghost of Sadie’s perfume and asking if my girl knew I was sneaking around south Fort Worth after dark, doing funny business. I thought about Deke Simmons saying there was one person who deserved to know the truth about where I’d been and what I’d done. But was I going to tell Sadie I’d killed Frank Dunning in cold blood so he wouldn’t murder his wife and three of his four children? That I had come to Texas to prevent an assassination and change the course of history? That I knew I could do that because I came from a future where we could have been IM’ing this conversation via computer?
“Sadie, this is going to work out. I promise you that.”
Again she said, “Fine.” Then she said, “I’ll see you tomorrow, George, in school.” And hung up, very gently and politely.
I held the telephone in my hand for several seconds, staring straight ahead at nothing. A rattling began on the windows facing my backyard. The rain had turned to sleet after all.
