Gates is.'

'Thank you.'

'You're welcome,' he said. 'Are they really terrific?'

'What?'

'My legs.'

'You have legs?' Although he doubted that good word of mouth was going

to boost her business fast enough to pay the bills and meet the

mortgage, Jack didn't worry unduly about much of anything--until the

twenty-fourth of July, when he had been home for a week and when his

mood began to slide. When his characteristic optimism started to go,

it didn't just crumble slowly but cracked all the way down the middle

and soon thereafter shattered altogether. He couldn't sleep without

dreams, which grew increasingly bloody night by night. He routinely

woke in the middle of a panic attack three or four hours after he went

to bed, and he was unable to doze off again no matter how desperately

tired he was. A general malaise quickly set in. Food seemed to lose

much of its flavor.

He stayed indoors because the summer sun became annoyingly bright, and

the dry California heat that he had always loved now parched him and

made him irritable.

Though he had always been a reader and owned an extensive book

collection, he could find no writer--even among his old favorites-- who

appealed to him any more, every story, regardless of how liberally

festooned with the praises of the critics, was uninvolving, and he

often had to reread a paragraph three or even four times until the

meaning penetrated his mental haze. He advanced from malaise to

flat-out depression by the twenty-eighth, only eleven days out of

rehabilitation. He found himself thinking about the future more than

had ever been his habitand he could find no possible version of it that

appealed to him.

Once an exuberant swimmer in an ocean of optimism, he became a huddled

and frightened creature in a backwater of despair. He was reading the

daily newspaper too closely, brooding about current events too deeply,

and spending far too much time watching television news. Wars,

genocide, riots, terrorist attacks, political bombings, gang wars,

drive-by shootings, child molestations, serial killers on the loose,

carjackings, ecological doomsday scenarios, a young convenience-store

clerk shot in the head for the lousy fifty bucks and change in his

cashregister drawer, rapes and stabbings and strangulations. He knew

modern life was more than this. Goodwill still existed, and good deeds

were still done.

But the media focused on the grimmest aspects of every issue, and so

Though he tried to leave the the TV off, he was drawn to of the

latest tragedies and outrage the hottle or a compulsive yambl citement

of the racetrack The despair inspired by the news was a down escalator

from which he seemed unable to escape. And it was picking up speed

When Heather casually mentioned that Toby would be entering third grade

in a month, Jack began to worry h drug dealing and violence surrounding

A les schools He became convinced they ing to be killed unless they

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