The Devil in Silver

And what about Pepper? Before he got all incredulous about the distance between the reality and the perception of Dorry, Coffee, and Loochie, maybe he’d better consider the difference between the man he believed he was and the man so many others encountered. His brother and sister-in-law. His mom and dad. The super of his building, once or twice when his apartment had no heat in the depths of winter. And, of course, Mari. He’d hoped she thought of him as a valiant knight, but from that phone call, she seemed to think of him as, at best, a bother. He wondered if she’d ever found his brother’s number. So far Ralph sure hadn’t called or come by. Maybe nobody ever saw themselves completely objectively. Every self-image needs a flattering mirror or two.

Pepper said, “Well, let’s talk about now. Let’s talk about what’s next.”

Loochie, without thinking, crouched and found a half dozen pebbles there on the ground and as she gathered them up she said, “We let it out. Then we light it up.”

She stood again and shook the handful of small stones in her palm.

Pepper said, “That’s one vote for fighting.”

Coffee said, “I just want to get the right people in here so they can make this place work the way it’s supposed to.”

Pepper said, “That’s one vote for insane faith.”

Coffee cut his eyes at Pepper and Pepper corrected himself.

“That’s one vote for optimism. How about that?”

Coffee said, “Accurate.”

“I want to talk with him,” Dorry said. “He needs to hear us. We need to make him understand that he’s hurting us. Maybe he doesn’t even realize what he’s doing. Have you considered that? Once you know someone, it’s a lot harder to remain enemies.”

Loochie shook her closed fist at Dorry. “So you want to make friends with the Devil? That’s your plan?”

“He’s a man!” Dorry shouted. The patients by the rim looked over quickly but soon returned their attention to their cigarettes.

“And I would think that if anyone should be able to feel a little sympathy for a person with troubles,” Dorry added, “it’s people like us.”

Loochie said, “People like you, maybe. People like me? We don’t shake hands with monsters.”

Dorry laughed. “What does that mean? ‘People like me.’ Teenagers? I’ve got bras that are older than you.”

Loochie scrunched her nose. “That’s nasty.”

Coffee poked Pepper in the arm. “What about you, then? What do you want to do?”

“I want to get out of here,” Pepper admitted. “I don’t want to open that door or fight or have peace talks with that thing. I want us to leave. It’s like you people forgot what it’s like to live anywhere but here!”

Loochie and Coffee and Dorry flinched at that.

Dorry squinted at Pepper. “And where will we go once you open the big door? Will I stay with my daughter in Greenpoint? Where she’ll treat me like a burden every single day? Until eventually she calls an ambulance for me, because I just don’t fit into her life there, and I’m escorted back to New Hyde Hospital by the EMTs. That’s your plan?”

Pepper tried to speak, but Dorry reached across and touched Loochie lightly on the side of her head.

“And Loochie will go back with her mother and her brother, yes? At least until they call the police to come get her after one too many fights. And then she’ll be right back at New Hyde, you can bet.”

Dorry pointed at Coffee next. “And he’ll be free for as long as he doesn’t attract anyone’s notice. But as soon as he does, they’ll come talk to him about his status in this country. And when they find out that he’s overstayed his original visa? They’ll send him right back to Tora Bora.”

“Uganda,” Coffee said.

Dorry nodded. “You’re welcome.”

She stepped right up to Pepper, one shoulder bumping him in the gut.

“So when you say you want us to leave, who are you really thinking of? We can’t run from what’s coming. But if you want to go, you can go. Why don’t you climb that fence right now?”

Pepper looked at the chain link, the kind he’d been climbing since he was a kid, all around Queens. Even with the lingering ache in his rib cage, even with the barbed wire bundled along the top edge, he thought he could do it. Strip off his pajama top and toss it over the barbs to protect his skin. He’d get cut, but he could manage. With the meds out of his system for three days, he felt in so much more command of his body. He felt sure even his wounds had healed faster. He watched the fence line and the other three watched him. Until Miss Chris opened the door to the lounge again and called the patients back in.

Miss Chris shouted, “Eight in!”

“If you’re going to stay with us,” Dorry said, calmer now, “I think we should wait until Saturday night.”

“Overnight weekend shift,” Coffee added.

Loochie said, “Only two staff on duty then. That’s smart.”

Saturday night.

Two days from then. Forty-eight more hours of dumping their meds down bathroom sinks; 2,880 minutes of gaining strength; 172,800 seconds before Pepper had to decide if he would fight alongside them, or flee.

18