"You owe me!"
The next day Johnny woke up wishing he hadn't. Not only did he feel nauseated, but he also felt a little and frustrated. Darlene was going to have an abortion and there was nothing he could do about it. He pulled the covers back, sat on the edge of his bed and stared at the calendar on the wall. It was November 22, 1963. He had written on it that today was the day he had to collect $200 from one of his dealers and give half of it to Lips. But he could hardly gather the enthusiasm to do anything, even though he had slept in his clothes and didn't need to dress. He rolled back into bed and went back to sleep.
Around eleven he woke up and fumbled with a packet of cigarettes that he had left beside the bed. His nicotine-stained fingers trembled as he struck a match, and then took a deep breath of smoke. He sighed loudly as he exhaled, and at the same time picked up a notebook he kept by his bed. In it were a few addresses and about a dozen depressing poems he had written about life. One was penned a few days earlier after a deal fell through and he began to withdraw. It was called "Heroin." The poem seemed to flow from his pen as he wrote.
Just after noon he got out of bed, walked into his living room and turned on a huge old television that was obviously too heavy for Darlene to steal. Then he slowly walked into the kitchen to make some strong black coffee.
He never finished making that drink. From the kitchen he heard words that sent shivers down his spine:
"President Kennedy has been shot! I repeat, the President of the United States has been shot . . . "
Johnny rushed into the room hoping it was some sort of sick joke, and sat on an old couch in front of the TV.
A man stood with a microphone, directly in front of Parkland Hospital and said,
"Just after noon shots were fired at the President's motorcade as it drove through the streets of Dallas." The reporter stopped speaking for a moment and looked slightly to one side. He began again,
"I have just been . . ." His voice cracked with emotion. He composed himself and said again, " . . . I have just been informed that President John F. Kennedy has been pronounced dead. He was killed today, just after noon by an assassin's bullet. It happened as he was being driven through Dallas to the sound of cheering crowds. Suddenly, shots rang out and stunned the masses as the 46‑year‑old president crumpled in the seat of an open limousine. We have also been informed that Governor John B. Connally Jr. of Texas, who was riding in the same car as the Kennedys, was severely wounded in the chest, ribs and arm."
Johnny sat glued to the television for the rest of the day as the media kept the public informed about the assassination. Some time later, they reported that police had arrested Lee Harvey Oswald and charged him with the murder.
To be continued.
