The Devil in Silver

Dr. Anand didn’t respond to that. (Would you?) He finally sat next to Pepper on the bed and undid the rest of the buttons on Pepper’s shirt. He moved more quickly than Josephine. Dr. Anand opened the shirt and looked at Pepper’s bruises. The skin was reddish and purple all over. There were small cuts across Pepper’s chest where the foot (hoof?) had crushed down on him.

Dr. Anand leaned back, his eyebrows raised. “Jiminy …”

The doctor set the clipboard on the floor and used both hands to press against Pepper’s rib cage. He started light and then a little harder. It didn’t take much force to make Pepper wince.

“Can you roll on your side?” the doctor asked. “Your back to me?”

It took a moment, but Pepper pulled it off. Pepper felt the doctor’s hand pressing against his skin.

“Breathe as deeply as you can,” the doctor said. Pepper felt the chilly rim of a stethoscope just below one of his shoulder blades. He always liked that feeling, and he liked it now. When Pepper inhaled, it hurt, and when he exhaled, it hurt more. He concentrated on the comfort of the stethoscope just to keep from crying.

Dr. Anand rolled Pepper onto his back again and pressed the stethoscope to his chest now. Pepper breathed in and out. Dr. Anand looked at his watch. He pulled the stethoscope off and stuffed it back into a pocket of his jacket. He reached down, grunting slightly, and grabbed the clipboard off the floor, wrote on Pepper’s chart.

“Did your roommate do this to you?” Dr. Anand asked.

Pepper shook his head.

“One of the other patients, then?”

Pepper breathed in and spoke as he exhaled. “I already told you who.”

Dr. Anand frowned. “No jokes here, Pepper. I want you to tell me the truth. Did a member of the staff do this to you?”

Right away, Pepper wanted to say yes just because that would be a manageable, rational, realistic problem. The staff had abused him. It wasn’t untrue, was it? Maybe Dr. Anand would transfer him?

“Can you just get me off this unit?” Pepper asked quietly. He imagined being taken to the ICU, or for surgery—who cared what?—and being kept there. Away from whoever, whatever, had nearly killed him.

Dr. Anand held the bottom of the clipboard and tapped the top lightly against his own knees. “Transfer. Well, that’s a problem, Pepper.”

“Why?” Pepper’s voice cracked.

“Because you were admitted here by the police, and you’re being held here pending criminal charges. You understand? So, technically, this unit is your detention center. If you weren’t in here, you’d probably be at Rikers awaiting a hearing. And believe me, this is a lot better place to be.”

Pepper almost laughed, but that would’ve caused too much pain.

Dr. Anand looked down at Pepper’s chest and sighed.

“Generally, this is a lot better place to be.”

“You told me I’d be released in seventy-two hours,” Pepper said. “That was over a month ago.”

Dr. Anand nodded and winced, as if he was a salesman about to explain the unfair return policy of his store. “We did keep you for a seventy-two-hour observation. But what we observed is that you needed more time with us. So we readmitted you, as an involuntary admit.”

“What does that mean?” Pepper asked.

Dr. Anand touched Pepper’s arm lightly, consoling. “It means you stay with us until we feel you’re ready to go. In your case, we might not feel comfortable releasing you until your arraignment date.”

Pepper stared out the windows. “The only way I get out of the hospital is if I’m going to jail.”

Dr. Anand stood up. “Let me be completely honest with you, Pepper. You came to us under a bit of a technicality, that’s true. But while you’ve been here, you’ve been impulsive, quick to anger, in a potentially manic state at least three times according to the records my staff have made. Have you ever been diagnosed with a mental illness before?”

Pepper tried to sit up, but he could only raise his head. “I know I get heated up, okay? But there’s got to be a line, right? I mean everything can’t be a sign of mental illness.”

“No. Of course not. And despite what you might think, I don’t want to diagnose you with an illness. But you’re here, however it happened, and I wouldn’t be any kind of doctor if I didn’t take a little time to try and see if you need help. And if you do, then I want to help you. That’s the truth.”

Pepper marveled at Dr. Anand’s sincere tone. He knew Dr. Anand meant what he’d said, and yet it didn’t comfort him.

Dr. Anand got up. Pepper watched him leave the room.

“I’ll send one of the nurses to bandage you up. I’ll prescribe a painkiller, too. Did you get your morning meds?”

Pepper rolled, with some difficulty, onto his right side, so he faced Dr. Anand. “I already took them,” Pepper said. “Josephine gave them to me.”

Dr. Anand watched Pepper a moment. Pepper wondered if the doctor would see the white cup, the two pills, under the bed. But finally Dr. Anand nodded. He said, “You’ll meet your demons everywhere, Pepper. Let us help you face them here.”