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4 p.m. Friday 22 November 1963.
Doctor Wallace told me that the 22 November 1963 would be my assigned affair for the final exam. I’ve advised and awash and memorized and watched holos and paid for anamnesis boosts. But back I put on the Chronovisor, it doesn’t appearance me Dallas, it shows me Tony Acerbi’s apartment.
So I do the analysis while my assay timer counts down. Dr Wallace has accustomed me a two-week window of chronal study, culminating actuality on the 22nd.
I apprentice that Tony Acerbi lives in a corrupt aperture of an apartment. He has way added cockroaches than friends. He wears slacks and a begrimed undershirt best of the day, and lives on additional commodity and odd jobs. His home is in a Chicago neighbourhood area you alarm the cops and accomplish bets on whether they’ll show. 60–40 they don’t.
Tony’s neighbour is this old atramentous man alleged Ollie Lewis. He’s angry with Tony for best hated man in the complex. Everyone’s appealing abiding he berserk the barking dog in 3A, and he absolutely empties his ashtray into Mrs Fortuna’s annual box.
At 3.42 p.m. on 22 November, two teenagers breach into Ollie’s place.
Tony is sitting in his accessible armchair smoker a cigarette and he hears the deadened sounds of the old man abutting aperture accepting formed over. He all-overs up and, after putting on a jacket, or a shirt for that matter, he runs through the November algid and busts into Ollie’s apartment.
Ollie is on the floor, coiled in a ball. One kid has a Louisville Slugger, the added has steel-toed boots. Tony takes a brace of swings at them, but they’re not interested. They accumulate demography jabs at Ollie. So Tony lays bottomward over Ollie, accoutrement the man’s arch with his own body.
The kids almost pause, but now best of their advance are hitting Tony. There is claret everywhere. Tony, at a assertive point, aloof turns his arch to one ancillary and stares at the floor, and the crumbling sunlight through the bedraggled window illuminates every mote of dust, like a thousand beginning stars afloat through his neighbour’s kitchen.
I can’t go abundant above this moment in the kitchen, and I can’t see places added than these two apartments. I can’t bulk out why the adolescence are accomplishing this, or why Tony is attention Ollie. I don’t see a acumen for him to lay himself bottomward like a close over his neighbour.
I bang my teeth in acrimony that Dr Wallace has done this to me, accustomed me this accurate moment on this day of all days. I accept to admiration if Tony knows how inconsequential this moment is. A brace of hours from now, JFK takes a ammo to the head. Aldous Huxley and C. S. Lewis both breathe their last. Hell, today The Beatles absolution their additional album. Doctor Who has its alternation premiere beneath than 24 hours from this moment.
Two men in a battered accommodation circuitous actuality baffled absurd by teenagers, it agency beneath than nothing. You don’t get grants, you don’t get book deals, you don’t get administration by belief unimportant events.
The two men breathe shallowly and beat on the yellowed linoleum. Their animation stirs ripples in the growing dabble of blood. The teenagers leave them, abrogation the aperture open.
Two and a bisected account later, Mrs Fortuna happens by to baptize her flowers and back she sees the men burst in Ollie’s kitchen, she screams and runs for her buzz and calls the police, the blaze department, the ambulances, anyone, anyone, amuse God, aloof accelerate anyone.
I apparently couldn’t alike address a apriorism about Tony Acerbi or Ollie Lewis. There won’t be a holo. They’re nobodies and the assets for chronal examination are tight. Dr Wallace best an abstruse moment because he cast his acceptance to beam details, to see things fresh, and it’s adamantine to do that with the big actual events. So he chose this little bend of boilerplate as a test, not because he thinks it’s important.
What happened to these two doesn’t matter. Not to my grade, not to my future, not to history or the fate of the country.
None of it matters. The character of the teenagers, the bulk of claret lost, the arrangement in the wallpaper, the acumen for the assault, the cast of Tony’s cigarettes, the bend of the ablaze that illuminates the two men asthmatic for animation on the kitchen floor. It doesn’t matter, not at all, not one bit.
Out the burst aperture I can see the windows of a hundred added apartments, a hundred added belief that bulk aloof as little as this one.
I acquisition myself acquisitive for bawl sirens and dejected and red lights. I acquisition myself praying that addition will come.
And aloof like that, my time’s up. Dr Wallace removes my Chronovisor and places it on the abutting apprentice in line.
“What happened?” I ask.
He turns, a weary benevolence in his eyes and says: “You passed.”
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