The days after that were quite wonderful, but I still felt the loss of George. And, to my annoyance, I still wondered about that “message from the universe.” The manifestations of nine kept happening, though I didn’t always note them in the notebook.
One time when I was sitting on the couch, writing in it, and Zvika, coming into the room, asked to see it. He flipped through the pages, then stopped at one. He held it out for me to see. It was the large digit nine, which looked like a zero and a one. I nodded, and he got the pen and began to sketch around these. When he handed it back, I gave a shout of laughter.
“I didn’t know you could draw.”
He shrugged, and I looked down at his sketch. He had drawn shaded, curved surfaces on either side of the zero, which now looked like an asshole be
