Ve: Strawberry?

Va: Yes, that's what he said. My wife's brother… his name is Stanbury Richards. My youngest son always called him Uncle Strawberry when he was very small. That association didn't occur until later, by the way. That evening I suggested to my wife that she call her brother, who lives in the town of Goose Lake, New York.

Ve: Did she call him?

Va: Yes, she did. They had a very nice chat.

Ve: And was Mr. Richards-your brother-in-law-was he all right?

Va: Yes, he was fine. But the following week he fell from a ladder while painting his house and broke” his back.

Ve: Dr. Vann, do you believe John Smith saw that happen? Do you believe that he had a precognitive vision concerning your wife's brother?

Va: I don't know. But I believe that it may have been so.

Ve: Thank you, Dr…

Va: May I say one more thing?

Ve: Of course.

Va: If he did have such a curse-yes, I would call it a curse-I hope God will show pity to that man's tortured soul.

and I know, Dad, that people are going to say that I did what I am planning to do because of the tumor, but Daddy, don't believe them. It isn't true. The tumor is only the accident finally catching up with me, the accident which I now believe never stopped happening. The tumor lies in the same area that was injured in the crash, the same area that I now believe was probably bruised when I was a child and took a fall one day while skating on Runaround Pond. That was when I had the first of my “flashes”, although even now I cannot remember exactly what it was. And I had another just before the accident, at the Esty Fair. Ask Sarah about that one; I'm sure she remembers. The tumor lies in that area which I always called “the dead zone”. And that turned out to be right, didn't it? All too bitterly right. God… destiny providence… fate… whatever you want to call it, seems to be reaching out with its steady and unarguable hand to put the scales back in balance again. Perhaps l was meant to die in that car-crash, or even earlier, that day on the Runaround. And I believe that when I've finished what I have to finish, the scales will come completely back into balance again.

Daddy, I love you. The worst thing, next to the belief that the gun is the only way out of this terrible deadlock I find myself in, is knowing that I'll be leaving you behind to bear the grief and hate of those who have no reason to believe Stillson is anything but a good and just man…

Excerpt from testimony given before the so-called “Stillson Committee”, chaired by Senator William Cohen of Maine. The questioner is Mr. Albert Renfrew, the Committee's Deputy Counsel. The witness is Dr. Samuel Weizak, of 26 Harlow Court, Bangor, Maine.

Date of testimony: August 23, 1979.

Renfrew: We are now approaching the hour of adjournment, Dr. Weizak, and on behalf of the Committee, I would like to thank you for the last four long hours of testimony. You have offered a great deal of light on the situation.

Weizak: That is quite all right.

R: I have one final question for you, Dr. Weizak, one which seems to me to be of nearly ultimate importance; it speaks to an issue which John Smith himself raised in the letter to his father which has been entered into evidence. That question is…

W: No.

R: I beg your pardon?

W: You are preparing to ask me if Johnny's tumor pulled the trigger that day in New Hampshire, are you not?

R: In a manner of speaking, I suppose…

W: The answer is no. Johnny Smith was a thinking, reasoning human being until the end of his life. The letter to his father shows this; his letter to Sarah Hazlett also shows this. He was a man with a terrible, Godlike power perhaps a curse, as my colleague Dr. Vann has called it-but he was neither unhinged nor acting upon fantasies caused by cranial pressure-if such a thing is even possible.

R: But isn't it true that Charles Witman, the so-called “Texas Tower Sniper”, had…

W: Yes, yes, he had a tumor. So did the pilot of the Eastern Airlines airplane that crashed in Florida some years ago. And it has never been suggested that the tumor was a precipitating cause in either case. I would point out to you that other infamous creatures -Richard Speck; the so-called “Son of Sam”, and Adolf Hitler-needed no brain tumors to cause them to act in a homicidal manner. Or Frank Dodd, the murderer Johnny himself uncovered in the town of Castle Rock. However misguided this Committee may find Johnny's act to have been, it was the act of a man who was sane. In great mental agony, perhaps-but sane.

…and most of all, don't believe that I did this without the longest and most agonizing reflection. If by killing him I could be sure that the human race was gaining another four years, another two, even another eight months in which to think it over, it would be worth it. It's wrong, but it may turn out right. I don't know. But I won't play

Hamlet any longer. I know how dangerous Stillson is. Daddy, I love you very much. Believe it.

Your Son,

Johnny

Excerpt from testimony given before the socalled “Stillson Committee”, chaired by Senator William Cohen of Maine. The questioner is Mr. Albert Renfrew, the Committee's Deputy Counsel. The witness is Mr. Stuart Clawson, of the Blackstrap Road in Jackson, New Hampshire.

Renfrew: And you say you just happened to grab your camera, Mr. Clawson?

Clawson: Yeah! Just as I went out the door. I almost didn't even go that day, even though I like Greg Stillson-well, I did like him before all of this, anyway. The town hall just seemed like a bummer to me, you know?”

R: Because of your driver's exam.

C: You got it. Flunking that permit test was one colossal bummer. But at the end, I said what the hell. And I got the picture. Wow! I got it. That picture's going to make me rich, I guess. Just like the flag-raising on Iwo Jima.

R: I hope you don't get the idea that the entire thing was staged for your benefit, young man.

C: Oh, no! Not at all! I only meant… well… I don't know what I meant. But it happened right in front of me, and… I don't know. Jeez, I was just glad I had my Nikon, that's all.

R: You just snapped the photo when Stillson picked up the child?

C: Matt Robeson, yessir.

R: And this is a blowup of that photo?

C: That's my picture, yes.

R: And after you took it, what happened?

C: Two of those goons ran after me. They were yelling “Give us the camera, kid! Drop it. “Shi-uh, stuff like that.

R: And you ran.

C: Did I run? Holy God, I guess I ran. They chased me almost all the way to the town garage. One of them almost had me, but he slipped on the ice and fell down.

Cohen: Young man, I'd like to suggest that you won the most important footrace of your life when you outran those two thugs.

C: Thank you, Sir. What Stillson did that day… maybe you had to be there, but… holding a little kid in front of you, that's pretty low. I bet the people in New Hampshire wouldn't vote for that guy for dog-catcher. Not for…

R: Thank you, Mr. Clawson. The witness is excused.

October again.

Sarah had avoided this trip for a very long time, but now the time had come and it could be put off no longer. She felt that. She had left both children with Mrs. Ablanap-they had house-help now, and two cars instead of the little red Pinto; Walt's income was scraping near thirty thousand dollars a year-and had come by herself to Pownal through the burning blaze of late autumn.