Coltrane softly blew a low note and held it, the drummer tapping cymbals, and the cassette ended. Emily withdrew her hand from Jeff’s back, but he still held hers, and her right hand. He said: “He told me once: ‘I wake up tired.’ His body was his enemy, and when he fought it, he lost. What he had to do was ignore it. That was the will. That was how he was happy.”

“Ignore it?”

“Move beyond it.”

He released her back and lowered her hand, and shifted his grip on it and held it as they walked toward the table; then Jeff stopped her. He said: “He had something else. He was grateful.”

“For what?”

“That he wasn’t blown to pieces. And that he still had his brain.”