The Devil in Silver

Pepper left the alcove and knew what he had to do. Regardless of pride. (And irony.) Nurse Washburn and Scotch Tape stood inside the nurses’ station now. After Nurse Washburn finished inputting a file, Scotch Tape took each one and tossed it into a blue plastic bag. There were two bags at his feet, already full. Paperwork that had been logged into the computer, and now would be sent out for shredding.

This sort of hurt Scotch Tape. Right in the wrists. Him and Miss Chris and all the staff who’d been working at New Hyde for a while. How many years had they committed to charting. Now it would all be turned into shavings. The same information saved with the press of a button. Progress, yes, but he wished it had come long before he’d developed some kind of early-onset arthritis.

Pepper shlumped up to the nurses’ station, giving Scotch Tape and Nurse Washburn a start. He leaned his elbows on the counter. He bowed his head before he met Scotch Tape’s gaze.

“Let me borrow a quarter?” Pepper said.

Panhandling is hard work.

Pepper sure found out.

Neither Scotch Tape nor Nurse Washburn was inclined to give him any coins. And Mr. Mack cackled when Pepper asked. Frank Waverly at least looked pained when he reached into his pockets and came out with nothing. Nothing from Heatmiser or Yuckmouth. Wally Gambino shouted, “Hells-fuckin’-no!” The Haint didn’t even seem to hear him, she shuffled past and didn’t look up from the floor. Redhead Kingpin and Still Waters weren’t up and about during midday. Doris Roberts told him she’d write him an IOU and give him something when her family came for visiting hours later in the week. And Sandra Day O’Connor scowled and told him to “get a job.” (“What job can I get inside a mental hospital?” he asked. Her response? “Get a job!”—only louder.)

He met Loochie as she was leaving the television lounge. She had a white towel inelegantly draped over her head. The rest of her remained as polished as ever, baby-blue Nikes, clean jeans and a sporty little sweatshirt, but her head was hidden. It made her seem like a ghoul. He wouldn’t have recognized her if not for the sneakers. She almost walked right past him, lost in a daze. But he touched her arm.

“Loochie,” he said.

The shrouded figure stopped. It looked down at his hand, still touching her elbow. Pepper pulled his hand away. Then Loochie looked up at him. He could make out her eyes under the towel, but little else.

“How are you?” he asked quietly.

She stared at him.

“I’m sorry.…” He put his hand on the top of his head.

“My mother hasn’t seen it yet,” Loochie said.

Pepper couldn’t see her lips move when she said this. It was disconcerting. As if she hadn’t said it, only thought it, and he’d read her mind. “Did you tell her?” he asked.

“You think I should?”

“Call her,” Pepper said. “It’s going to be worse if she just shows up and sees you like … this.”

“It looks bad?” She patted the towel with one hand, as if she’d only just realized how absolutely bizarre she must look.

“You’ve looked better,” Pepper said. He didn’t mean that harshly, but that’s how Loochie took it.

“Well, your girlfriend is gone,” Loochie snapped back.

Pepper smiled. At least Loochie hadn’t lost her fighting spirit. He admired her very much for holding on to it. But there was still the important business at hand. The reason he’d been roaming the halls, accosting everyone.

Pepper said, “Can I borrow a quarter?”

Loochie’s surprised laugh made the sides of the towel shake. “You know who you sounded like just then?”

Then she lost her smile, as if she was embarrassed by it. “I don’t have a quarter,” she said. “Why don’t you ask her?”

Loochie pointed into the television lounge. Where Dorry sat alone. Not just by herself, but in an empty room.

Pepper looked at Dorry, then back at Loochie. But Loochie had already walked off.

Pepper walked into the lounge and looked up at the screen. The Weather Channel gave the five-day forecast.

Pepper approached Dorry.

“What you watching?” he asked.

She lifted the remote, turned the volume down. “I’ll give you a quarter,” Dorry said. “But you have to sit with me.”

Pepper rested one hand on the tabletop. He didn’t want to sit, but he did want that money.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” Dorry said. She peered at the empty lounge. “Everyone has.”

Her white hair was brushed back, fully exposing her face. She looked thinner. Her eyes were red and dry. “Notice something different?” she asked.

“No more glasses,” Pepper said, still standing.

“Loochie broke them in our fight. Staff won’t replace them. That’s one of my punishments, I guess.”

Pepper pulled a chair back and sat down.

“I thought I could do it,” she said quietly. “I really did. I’m so tired, you see? I thought maybe we could work something out. Like a truce. I don’t know. I was kidding myself. Maybe I wanted you to stop him. But then I saw Coffee with those needles and …”