The Devil in Silver

Pepper nodded. “Moroccan guy who ran the bodega around the corner from my apartment?”

Neither Loochie nor her mother laughed because, hell, they thought that might be who this person was.

Louis smiled without mirth.

“The problem with the silver fumes,” Louis continued, “is that, over time, they gave the miners delusions. Bad enough that they had to stop mining. Their health deteriorated. And a bunch of them even died.”

Hard to make fun of something like that, so Pepper didn’t.

“Do you know what people would say, in these mining towns, when they saw one of these miners falling apart? Walking through town muttering and swinging at phantoms? They said the Devil in Silver got them. It became shorthand. Like someone might say, ‘What happened to Mike?’ And the answer was always the same. ‘The Devil in Silver got him.’ ”

Louis sat straight and crossed his arms and surveyed the table. “Do you understand what I’m trying to tell you?”

“You’re saying we’re just making this thing up,” Pepper said quietly.

Louis seemed disappointed. He dropped his hands into his lap and folded them there. He looked at his sister and Pepper. He turned his head to take in the other patients gathered with their family members there in the hospital.

“I’m saying they were dying,” Louis said. “They definitely weren’t making that up. But it wasn’t a monster that was killing them. It was the mine.”

Visiting hours continued and Pepper stayed at the table with Loochie and her family. They didn’t keep talking about the Devil in Silver, about slow death and delusions, because that shit is grim. Instead, they spent the last half hour of visiting playing Raven Symoné’s game. If it never became fun, it did pass the time. (Pepper also learned that someone liked liked him, which is always nice to hear.)

At the end of the visit, Loochie’s mother gave her a handful of change as per custom. Then she took Pepper’s hand, and dropped two dollars’ worth of quarters into his palm.

“Call your mother,” she said. “I’m sure she’d like to hear from you.”

“I don’t know about that,” Pepper said, laughing.

“I do,” Loochie’s mother said.

“I don’t even have her number,” Pepper told her.

Loochie’s mother pointed at Louis. “You’re always bragging about your little phone, aren’t you?” she asked. “Show me what it can do.”

Louis probably hadn’t looked more pleased at any point that afternoon. He made his mother and sister watch while he used his Smartphone. A quick search, not more than two minues, and he had Pepper’s brother’s number. He beamed at his mother. “See?”

“Very nice,” she said, patting her son’s back. Then she looked at Pepper. “Well?”

Rather than dithering, he walked straight into the phone alcove. It sat empty. He didn’t hesitate.

He dialed the Maryland number, and Ralph picked up on the second ring. It seemed so simple, so normal, that it almost couldn’t be real. After all his time, his younger brother was on the line.

As soon as Pepper heard his brother’s voice, he wanted to hang up. He was so scared. But he remembered Loochie’s mother and that he wanted to speak with his own. He couldn’t just stand there breathing heavily and expect to be put on with her.

“Ralph S. Mouse!” he said, a bit too loud.

The line stayed quiet.

“Peter Rabbit,” Ralph finally answered.

“Did my friend Mari ever call you?” Pepper asked. Instantly, he wished he hadn’t said it; two sentences into the conversation and he sounded critical.

“I think she spoke to Maureen,” Ralph said. “But that was awhile ago. I’m sorry I didn’t call; we’ve just had so much going on here. Denny got sick so we all got sick. He had to stay out of school.”

He wondered what Mari might’ve told Ralph’s wife. Maybe just that Pepper was in some trouble, since Ralph didn’t mention the hospital. Was there any point in telling him now?

“How’s Mom?” Pepper asked.

Pepper realized he still had the blue folder under his arm and he was choking the poor thing just now. He balanced it on top of the pay phone.

“Mom’s going to outlive both of us,” Ralph said, sounding lighter for the first time.

Pepper rested his forehead against the cool wall. He’d been a little afraid that Ralph would tell him their mother had died while he’d been in here. Something irreversible.

“Is she there?”

“Yeah,” Ralph said, sounding relieved to hand off the baton. “Let me bring the phone to her.”

Then a little jostling as Ralph walked from his bedroom, off to find their mother. Pepper heard the creak of different doors being opened, Ralph calling their mother’s name in room after room. So much space, Pepper thought. Then Ralph’s voice on the line again. “Listen, man,” he said. “I just want to say …”

Then quiet again.

Pepper spoke instead. “Ralph,” he said. “Thanks for taking care of Mom, yeah?”

Ralph sighed and Pepper could almost see his kid brother, six or seven years old, actually blushing because his big brother had, in some way, acknowledged him. “It’s okay,” Ralph said quietly. “You take care of yourself.”

And then his mother’s voice on the line.