The Devil in Silver

“ ‘In the mist dark figures move and twist,’ ” Pepper said to her. “ ‘Was all this for real or some kind of hell?’ ”

Dr. Anand took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes, exhausted. Even the uninvolved legal rep peeked up from his tablet screen.

Miss Chris put one hand on her hip. “That from the Bible?”

“That’s Iron Maiden,” Pepper said.

Miss Chris frowned, now more confused than fearful. Pepper decided to stop talking and let the woman do her job.

Dr. Anand leaned across the table, slid a few strips of newsprint toward Pepper. “This is how the incident has been reported so far.”

As Miss Chris pulled up Pepper’s pajama sleeve and slapped the blood-pressure strap around him, he focused on the terrible picture of Kofi.

“That’s no glamour shot,” Pepper said.

“That’s how Coffee looked when he first came to us,” Dr. Anand said. “We’d made a lot of progress.”

Pepper wriggled his arm as it went slightly cold below the strap. Miss Chris stopped pumping and air hissed as it leaked out.

“You got him to cut his hair and take a bath.”

Dr. Anand shook his head. “We got him off the street. We got him to maintain his hygiene. We taught him how to contact government agencies so he could get the benefits he was entitled to upon his release.”

Miss Chris removed the strap and searched for a suitable vein in the crook of Pepper’s elbow.

“And when was that going to be?” Pepper asked.

Dr. Anand spoke plainly. “Release depends on so many variables.”

The doctor sighed. He looked as tired as Pepper had ever seen him.

“We do everything we can to find solutions,” Dr. Anand said. “But we only discover greater mysteries.”

Miss Chris slipped a needle into Pepper’s vein. He hardly felt it go in. She pulled back the stopper on the needle and all of them—Pepper, Miss Chris, Dr. Anand, even the legal rep—watched Pepper’s blood fill the vial.

After Miss Chris finished taking blood, Dr. Anand had a few more questions. None of them seemed concerned with understanding why the four of them had revolted, only to record the order of events should a timeline ever be needed for a legal proceeding. After all that, Dr. Anand said, “There’s still time for you to get lunch.”

Pepper felt surprised. “I thought you were going to put me back in restraints.”

Dr. Anand’s face turned red (reddish brown) and looked at the nearly catatonic representative. He said, “No one wants to use restraints on you at all.” Then he looked at Miss Chris and said, “Do we?”

Miss Chris smiled at the legal rep. “No, doctor.”

Which wasn’t the same as saying they hadn’t used them. Or wouldn’t.

Now both staff members looked at Pepper cautiously. Maybe this was his moment to testify to the man with the iPad.

But the rep defused the situation. “I’m sure a staff as qualified as ours only uses restraints within the limits of existing laws. I have no doubts.”

With that, the man returned to the screen. Tapped a few more times, then shut the black case that held the spiffy device. “We’re all done,” he said.

Pepper and Miss Chris walked down Northwest 1 until they reached the nurses’ station. There were four staff members on duty besides Miss Chris and Dr. Anand. Two more nurses and two orderlies. Extra muscle. The uprising had been good for one thing: overtime pay for the underpaid staff.

Miss Chris brought Pepper to the counter, and the other nurse brought out his small white cup of pills. They hadn’t changed the medications, not even the doses, but when he put the pills in his mouth all five staff members watched him closely.

“No cheating,” Miss Chris taunted.

After he swallowed she said, “Pop your mouth.”

Pepper opened his mouth. He had swallowed the pills. Nevertheless, Miss Chris pulled on a latex glove, rose to her toes, stuck one finger between his lips and gums and checked.

“Tongue,” she said.

He lifted it and her finger felt around faintly, almost tenderly. It was the gentlest moment the two of them had ever shared. She slipped her finger out and pulled the glove off with a snap. She said, “Lunch then.”

Miss Chris walked behind Pepper down Northwest 5 and he felt like she was leading him to his execution. A shot in the back of the head. Maybe he’d even find the bodies of Dorry and Loochie and Coffee already there. Four corpses left in an empty room. New Hyde’s headache relieved that easily.

But slow down, Pepper. You ain’t Lorca! You’re not even Tommy from GoodFellas. The only punishment awaiting him was a lunch tray.

The other patients had been eating for a while. When Pepper entered the lounge, they watched him. He couldn’t be sure if they seemed sympathetic or accusatory. As the pills began to numb him, he found he didn’t much care. He sat alone at a table and looked down at his food. He felt both hungry and repulsed by the idea of eating.