The Devil in Silver

Sue shook her head. “If I had stolen something or stabbed somebody, that would put me in criminal court. Then I would have a right to an attorney. You don’t get an attorney in immigration court. That’s not your right. They give you a translator. But I didn’t need one of those. I understood English fine. Even the translator could see I was just having trouble with my thoughts. But she would just hold my hand and tell me how sorry she felt about it. Sometimes she cried.

“But in the courtroom, whenever I tried to answer the judge for myself, like if he asked my name or something, he would yell at me to wait for the translator. I said, ‘I don’t need the translator. I need my lithium.’ But that only made the judge mad. When I tried to speak again, to explain, he finished with the case. I remember the words exactly: ‘The respondent, after proper notice, has failed to appear.’ I was right there when he said it but they put it in the record. And if I don’t ‘appear,’ then they don’t have to have a trial. The judge can just make his verdict. He ordered them to deport me back to China. That’s it. The end. I will die now. That’s what I thought when he gave the sentence. I will die.”

Pepper tried to imagine Sue inside that courtroom. Standing alone before that judge, who refused to see her.

“I spent another six months being held in Glades County,” Sue said. “Waiting for them to throw me across the water. All this time, and my sister never knew what happened. For her, it’s like I just stepped into a hole and disappeared. I’m scared for me, but I feel so bad for her. Every day she must be crying.”

Pepper climbed over Sue, out of the bed, and went to the bathroom. He had a plastic cup in there and he filled it with cold water. He came back to the bed, sat on the edge and gave it to Sue. “What’s this for?” she asked.

“I thought you could use a drink.”

Sue sat up, the covers bunching right over her waist. She took the cup gratefully and smiled.

She sniffed it. She grimaced.

“This is water.”

“Well, what did you think?”

“The way you said it, I thought you had some beer or something.”

“Sorry,” Pepper whispered. She shrugged. She sipped.

“So that’s Florida. How’d you get to New York? How’d you get in here?”

“The police took us to church one day. Maybe for Easter. I didn’t even ask to go, but they made everyone attend. It was a big church. So many people. Like thousands. We sat in the back. They only left two guards near us. Two men. I asked to use the bathroom. One guard came with me, but he couldn’t go inside. Not at a nice church. So I went in, washed my face, and climbed out the window. Easy. I even went back to the same Greyhound station after I borrowed money from my old boss at the restaurant.

“I took a bus to New York because I thought there was enough Chinese here for me to hide. And maybe it was true. But when I came to the Port Authority, the immigration police were waiting for me! I couldn’t believe it. Sometimes the world is broken and sometimes it works too well. I slipped right out of a church bathroom, no problem. I come to one of the most crowded cities on earth, and they pick me out five minutes after I get off the bus. But by then it had been a long time since I had my medication. I wasn’t doing good. Laughing out loud for no reason. Shouting. Maybe the bus driver turned me in just because he was tired of me. They stuck me here until they can send me back to Florida. I’m a fugitive, Pepper. You just had sex with a fugitive.”

Pepper took the plastic cup from Sue. “You’re not a fugitive once you get caught. Then you’re just a prisoner again.”

Now, he wanted to go get her another cup of water, or maybe one for himself. Or to offer her the Cocoa Puffs, but that hardly seemed like enough. He wanted to do something. But what? Honestly. Dawn light hadn’t crept into the room yet, but soon enough it would. The next day was arriving and their night together felt so brief.

I’ll be gone in less than a week. That’s what she’d said.

Pepper touched Sue’s knee, the sheet so thin it hardly seemed to come between them. His throat felt warm and the back of his neck burned. “I don’t want you to … You shouldn’t have to …”

He couldn’t finish.

Sue put her hand on top of his.

“I know,” she said. “I know.”

But what was she going to do? Was she supposed to comfort him about how he couldn’t protect her? When she was the one actually facing extradition?

Fuck that.

Sue couldn’t dredge up the patience. She also hadn’t told him the straight truth. She’d told him she had less than a week before she’d be deported, but really it was happening later today. (Less than a week could mean six days, after all, or two.)

She couldn’t dream of a better way to spend her last night. Sharing these feelings, those touches, with him. All that might’ve been ruined if he knew how close to the end they really were.

“Why are you so quiet now?” Sue asked.