Part 3

True Believer
by Nicholas Sparks

(Page 3 of 5)

"C'mon, Jeremy, pay attention," Nate said, nudging him with his elbow. "You're on TV! Don't you want to see how you did?"

Jeremy turned from the redhead. Glancing up at the screen, he saw himself sitting opposite Diane Sawyer. Strange, he thought, like being in two places at once. It still didn't seem quite real. Nothing in the past three weeks had seemed real, despite his years in media.

On-screen, Diane was describing him as "America's most esteemed scientific journalist." Not only had the story turned out to be everything he'd wanted, but Nate was even talking to Primetime Live about Jeremy doing regular stories for them with a possibility of additional features on Good Morning America. Though many journalists believed television was less important than other, more serious forms of reporting, it didn't stop most of them from secretly viewing television as the Holy Grail, by which they meant big money. Despite the congratulations, envy was in the air, a sensation as foreign to Jeremy as space travel. After all, journalists of his stripe weren't exactly at the top of the media pecking order - until today.

"Did she just call you esteemed?" Alvin asked. "You write about Bigfoot and the legend of Atlantis!"

"Shh," Nate said, his eyes glued to the television. "I'm trying to hear this. It could be important for Jeremy's career." As Jeremy's agent, Nate was forever promoting events that "could be important for Jeremy's career," for the simple reason that freelancing wasn't all that lucrative. Years earlier, when Nate was starting out, Jeremy had pitched a book proposal, and they'd been working together ever since, simply because they'd become friends.

"Whatever," Alvin said, dismissing the scolding.

Meanwhile, flickering on the screen behind Diane Sawyer and Jeremy were the final moments of Jeremy's performance on the daytime television show, in which Jeremy had pretended to be a man grieving the boyhood death of his brother, a boy Clausen claimed to be channeling for Jeremy's benefit.

"He's with me," Clausen could be heard announcing. "He wants you to let him go, Thad." The picture shifted to capture Jeremy's rendition of an anguished guest, his face contorted. Clausen nodded in the background, either oozing sympathy or looking constipated, depending on the perspective.

"Your mother never changed his room - the room you shared with him. She insisted that it be kept unchanged, and you still had to sleep there," Clausen went on.

"Yes," Jeremy gasped.

"But you were frightened in there, and in your anger, you took something of his, something very personal, and buried it in the backyard."

"Yes," Jeremy managed again, as if too emotional to say more.

"His retainer!"

"Ooooohhhhhhhhh," Jeremy cried, bringing his hands to his face.

"He loves you, but you have to realize that he's at peace now. He has no anger toward you . . ."

"Ooooohhhhhhh!" Jeremy wailed again, contorting his face even more.

In the bar, Nate watched the clips in silent concentration. Alvin, on the other hand, was laughing as he raised his beer high.

"Give that man an Oscar!" he shouted.

"It was rather impressive, wasn't it?" Jeremy said, grinning.

"I mean it, you two," Nate said, not hiding his irritation. "Talk during the commercials."

"Whatever," Alvin said again. "Whatever" had always been Alvin's favorite word.

On Primetime Live, the videotape faded to black and the camera focused on Diane Sawyer and Jeremy, sitting across from each other once again.

"So nothing Timothy Clausen said was true?" Diane asked.

"Not a thing," Jeremy said. "As you already know, my name isn't Thad, and while I do have five brothers, they're all alive and well."

Diane held a pen over a pad of paper, as if she was about to take notes. "So how did Clausen do this?"

"Well, Diane," Jeremy began.

In the bar, Alvin's pierced eyebrow rose. He leaned toward Jeremy. "Did you just call her Diane? Like you're friends?"

"Could you please!" Nate said, growing more exasperated by the moment.

On-screen, Jeremy was going on. "What Clausen does is simply a variation on what people have been doing for hundreds of years. First of all, he's good at reading people, and he's an expert at making vague, emotionally charged associations and responding to audience members' cues."

"Yes, but he was so specific. Not only with you, but with the other guests. He had names. How does he do that?"

Jeremy shrugged. "He heard me talking about my brother Marcus before the show. I simply made up an imaginary life and broadcast it loud and clear."

"How did it actually reach Clausen's ears?"

"Con men like Clausen have been known to use a variety of tricks, including microphones and paid 'listeners' who circulate in the waiting area before the show. Before I was seated, I made sure to move around and strike up conversations with lots of audience members, watching to see if anyone exhibited unusual interest in my story. And sure enough, one man seemed particularly concerned."

Behind them, the videotape was replaced by an enlarged photograph that Jeremy had taken with a small camera hidden in his watch, a high-tech spy toy he'd promptly expensed to Scientific American. Jeremy loved high-tech toys almost as much as he loved expensing them to others.

"What are we looking at here?" Diane asked.

Copyright © 2005 by Nicholas Sparks

About the Author

Nicholas Sparks is the author of the #1 New York Times bestsellers The Rescue and Nights in Rodanthe, as well as The Notebook, Message in a Bottle, A Walk to Remember, A Bend in the Road, The Guardian, The Wedding, and his moving memoir, Three Weeks with My Brother, written with his brother, Micah. All his books were New York Times and international bestsellers translated into more than thirty languages, and Message in a Bottle, A Walk to Remember, and The Notebook were adapted into major motion pictures. Nicholas Sparks lives in North Carolina with his wife and family.