The Oracle Year(75)

That’s a wig, she thought. He’s wearing a disguise.

“Ms. Shore,” the man said.

“The . . . Oracle?” Leigh said, hesitating a bit.

“That’s right,” the man said.

“Very pleased to meet you,” Leigh said. She extended her hand and received a brief, firm shake in return.

“Come in,” the Oracle said. “Have a seat over there—couch or chair, doesn’t matter.”

Leigh moved inside, seeing a large, well-appointed room with a separate sitting area—a suite. A tray with snacks and drinks sat on a wooden coffee table between a couch and two armchairs. Leigh sat on the couch, placing the laptop and notepad on the cushion beside her.

“Can I offer you anything?” the Oracle said. “There’s soda, water . . . uh, anything you want from the minibar.”

She realized that he was nervous, too, and felt herself starting to relax. The Oracle, whatever else he might be, was clearly a human being.

Leigh smiled at him, a big, fifty-thousand-kilowatt smile, one of the most potent weapons in her arsenal.

“Just water, thanks.”

The Oracle clinked a few cubes of ice into a glass from the silver bucket on the tray, then filled the glass with water. He handed it to Leigh and sat in one of the armchairs.

“Thank you for seeing me,” Leigh said. “I’m glad we were able to put this together.”

“It’s my pleasure,” the Oracle said.

Leigh smiled again and took a sip of water. An awkward silence descended.

“Well, good,” the Oracle said. “Would you like to, uh, get started?”

“Absolutely,” Leigh answered, putting her glass on the table and picking up the laptop. She flipped it open. “How much time do we have?”

“As much as we need,” the Oracle said.

Leigh’s eyebrows raised, but she nodded. A short burst of typing on the laptop, and then she gave the man sitting opposite her a look she hoped was direct and businesslike.

“First question,” she said, “what do I call you? Are you comfortable with Oracle?”

The man gave an embarrassed shrug.

He’s such a . . . person, she marveled. Almost ordinary.

“That’s probably easiest for now, I guess. It’s a little goofy, I know.”

“But it’s accurate, right? It’s like calling a man who puts out fires a fireman. You are an oracle, after all. You see the future, and you tell us about it.”

The Oracle nodded.

“Fair enough.”

“Next—and this is off the record, just something I’d like to know. That business in the other room. Everything I brought with me is back there, and—”

“Oh, of course,” the Oracle said. He pulled a plastic card from his pocket and held it out. “This is the key to 1952. You can get your things when we’re done here. And I am sorry about the security stuff, too, but . . . you understand.”

Leigh took the keycard and slipped it into the breast pocket of her suit.

“I do. I get it. Not even an audio recorder, though? That’s pretty standard equipment for an interview like this.”

The Oracle reached out and grabbed a pretzel from the tray. He chewed slowly, swallowed.

“I don’t want my voice on tape. That’s why we gave you the laptop, Ms. Shore. You can take all the notes you want. We’ll review them once we’re done here to make sure the quotes are accurate, then you get them back on a thumb drive.”

Leigh nodded. She extended her hands over the keyboard, then pulled them back.

“Last question before we start. What makes you think people will believe me about any of this?” she said. “I won’t have any evidence that we met, other than my word. For a lot of people, that won’t be enough. After all,” Leigh continued, “I’m not exactly Barbara Walters. I’m not even TMZ.”

The Oracle leaned forward.

“I’ve read your work. You’re selling yourself short,” he said. “But I’ll do two things. I’ll put something up on the Site about this interview so that people know it’s legitimate. And, second, I’ll give you a prediction tonight that you can put in your story to prove that you met me.”

Leigh felt her face go slack. The Oracle just watched from behind his sunglasses, and, no, he was definitely not ordinary.

“That . . . that would work, I think,” Leigh said.

The Oracle smiled and leaned back in his chair.

“I think so. But you must have a lot of questions for me. Go ahead.”

“All right, Oracle,” Leigh began.

He winced, his forehead wrinkling.

“That’s terrible,” he interrupted. “I didn’t realize how awful that would sound. Just call me J— Just call me Jim, all right? That will work as well as anything.”

“Jim it is,” Leigh said.

“So. The first question, the first real question,” she continued, “is pretty simple. How do you predict the future?”

The Oracle hesitated. To Leigh, it seemed as if he was thinking about how to respond, which seemed strange. He had to have known this would be something she would ask.

He looked off to one side, smiling a little, as if sharing a private joke with himself. He sighed, then looked back to Leigh.