““Don’t call me unless there is a nuclear attack,” I said. I knew I was still too caffeinated and wired to sleep in a bed, so I sat in a recliner in my family room and turned on the TV. I found the cable channel devoted to covering deliberations in the United States Senate. The debate I watched was from the previous week, but it did the trick. I was able to nod off. Then my cell phone buzzed. It was just after 9AM and it was Abby. “Is it the Russians or the Iranians,” I said, groggily. ... ‘What?” “The nuclear attack.” “It’s worse. I checked your other messages. One was from Father Zapotoski. He said he found out something and wanted to run it by you.” I was annoyed. “Damn it Abby!” “Just listen. I called him back to tell him you’d be in touch later. No answer and for some reason I couldn’t leave a message.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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