that exact moment. I’ll answer it now.
Relief.
This sweeping wave of relief. I actually laughed a little short bark, out loud. And then I said out loud, to the empty room, ‘Of course.’
I should have known it was just a dream.
I mean, my mom suddenly dies and I have to drop this whole life I’ve worked so hard to earn, and go back to Kansas and take care of Ben? I should’ve known right then. I shouldn’t have had to look up and see my tower burning to know it was only a dream.
Now everything made so much sense.
Except it didn’t feel like a dream. But a lot of times dreams only feel like dreams later. After you wake up.
My cell phone rang. It was still in my right hand. It startled me.
I clicked it on.
It was Kerry.
‘Oh, my God. You’re there. You’re answering. Nobody else is answering. Wait. Where are you? Are you at work?’
‘No, I’m home.’
‘Turn on the TV. Oh, no. Wait. You can see it out your window.’
But it was too late. I was halfway to the TV. So I went ahead and turned it on.
And, as I’d gotten up, as I’d put one foot in front of the other, I’d known. I was awake. I just knew. I could just tell.
‘Jeff called me,’ she said, ‘and we talked for a minute, but then he got cut off.’
I was trying to listen to her and the TV at the same time.
‘A plane?’ I said, only vaguely aware that I was answering the TV, not Kerry.
‘I tried to call back,’ she said, ‘but all the circuits are busy. I called everybody’s work number, but I couldn’t get through. And then I remembered to call Jeff on his cell. But it was weird, Russell.’ She started to cry, but kept talking. ‘He just said it was hot. And that he loved me. That’s all he would say. And then I called you. Because I know your cell number. Can you see what’s going on?’
‘Wait,’ I said. Under no circumstances could I keep up with all this. ‘How could you have had time for all those calls in … like … a minute?’
A brief silence.
‘It hasn’t been a minute, Russell.’
I looked at my watch. 9.03 a.m. Somehow, impossibly. 9.03 a.m.
‘Get your telescope, Russell. Tell me what you see.’
But I just stood. For a second, I just stood. I didn’t want to go get my telescope. If I did, I would see.
‘Oh, my God,’ Kerry shrieked. ‘Do you see that?’
I looked up to see the second plane heading for the South Tower.
‘Do
you
see that?’ I asked.
I didn’t know how she could see that. She lived in mid-town Manhattan.
‘I’m watching it on TV. Oh, my God!’
We both watched the second plane slice into the South Tower. Just slice in. Like a door opened up and let it enter. On an angle. With a burst of fire around the corner, as if it might burst its way back out again. But I can’t remember if I could see all that from out my window. Or if I’m remembering what I saw on TV.
‘Russell,’ she screamed. ‘What’s happening? Why is this happening?’
‘This is not happening,’ I said. It was a theory, anyway. ‘Is it possible that this could be a dream?’
‘No, it’s happening. Get your telescope.’
‘Hang on,’ I said, and threw my cell phone on to the couch.
I got my telescope.
Here’s what I saw.
Smoke. Tons and tons of smoke. Gray and black. Both. And it didn’t only come from the diagonal gash, but from the windows of upper floors. And the roof line. It seemed to come from the roof line.
And paper. I saw lots of paper. It looked like a tickertape parade, except I could tell that each tiny bit of confetti was a whole sheet of paper.
And then I saw him. But who? I don’t know. Somebody. I knew he wasn’t one of ours, because he was in a window at least two floors down from my office. Maybe three. He was standing in a broken-out window. Standing on the ledge.
And then he just sort of … fell forward. It was a broad move. It was purposeful. He didn’t lose his balance. He pushed off.
Believe me. I had a telescope. I know. I saw.
I followed him with the
Relief.
This sweeping wave of relief. I actually laughed a little short bark, out loud. And then I said out loud, to the empty room, ‘Of course.’
I should have known it was just a dream.
I mean, my mom suddenly dies and I have to drop this whole life I’ve worked so hard to earn, and go back to Kansas and take care of Ben? I should’ve known right then. I shouldn’t have had to look up and see my tower burning to know it was only a dream.
Now everything made so much sense.
Except it didn’t feel like a dream. But a lot of times dreams only feel like dreams later. After you wake up.
My cell phone rang. It was still in my right hand. It startled me.
I clicked it on.
It was Kerry.
‘Oh, my God. You’re there. You’re answering. Nobody else is answering. Wait. Where are you? Are you at work?’
‘No, I’m home.’
‘Turn on the TV. Oh, no. Wait. You can see it out your window.’
But it was too late. I was halfway to the TV. So I went ahead and turned it on.
And, as I’d gotten up, as I’d put one foot in front of the other, I’d known. I was awake. I just knew. I could just tell.
‘Jeff called me,’ she said, ‘and we talked for a minute, but then he got cut off.’
I was trying to listen to her and the TV at the same time.
‘A plane?’ I said, only vaguely aware that I was answering the TV, not Kerry.
‘I tried to call back,’ she said, ‘but all the circuits are busy. I called everybody’s work number, but I couldn’t get through. And then I remembered to call Jeff on his cell. But it was weird, Russell.’ She started to cry, but kept talking. ‘He just said it was hot. And that he loved me. That’s all he would say. And then I called you. Because I know your cell number. Can you see what’s going on?’
‘Wait,’ I said. Under no circumstances could I keep up with all this. ‘How could you have had time for all those calls in … like … a minute?’
A brief silence.
‘It hasn’t been a minute, Russell.’
I looked at my watch. 9.03 a.m. Somehow, impossibly. 9.03 a.m.
‘Get your telescope, Russell. Tell me what you see.’
But I just stood. For a second, I just stood. I didn’t want to go get my telescope. If I did, I would see.
‘Oh, my God,’ Kerry shrieked. ‘Do you see that?’
I looked up to see the second plane heading for the South Tower.
‘Do
you
see that?’ I asked.
I didn’t know how she could see that. She lived in mid-town Manhattan.
‘I’m watching it on TV. Oh, my God!’
We both watched the second plane slice into the South Tower. Just slice in. Like a door opened up and let it enter. On an angle. With a burst of fire around the corner, as if it might burst its way back out again. But I can’t remember if I could see all that from out my window. Or if I’m remembering what I saw on TV.
‘Russell,’ she screamed. ‘What’s happening? Why is this happening?’
‘This is not happening,’ I said. It was a theory, anyway. ‘Is it possible that this could be a dream?’
‘No, it’s happening. Get your telescope.’
‘Hang on,’ I said, and threw my cell phone on to the couch.
I got my telescope.
Here’s what I saw.
Smoke. Tons and tons of smoke. Gray and black. Both. And it didn’t only come from the diagonal gash, but from the windows of upper floors. And the roof line. It seemed to come from the roof line.
And paper. I saw lots of paper. It looked like a tickertape parade, except I could tell that each tiny bit of confetti was a whole sheet of paper.
And then I saw him. But who? I don’t know. Somebody. I knew he wasn’t one of ours, because he was in a window at least two floors down from my office. Maybe three. He was standing in a broken-out window. Standing on the ledge.
And then he just sort of … fell forward. It was a broad move. It was purposeful. He didn’t lose his balance. He pushed off.
Believe me. I had a telescope. I know. I saw.
I followed him with the
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