The Devil in Silver

Now the doctor knocked on the table with force and the women’s laughter quieted. Even Coffee stopped tapping the pen.

Then the nurse spoke up. “These books won’t be useful anyway.”

Dr. Barger looked over his shoulder. “Excuse me, nurse?”

“Have you looked at the collection lately?”

Everyone in the room scanned the shelves. This Bookmobile was hardly a fine library. It looked like the dumping grounds for vocational-training manuals. (ISP—Industrial Security Professional Exam Manual; Automotive Technician Certification: Test Preparation Manual; Medium/Heavy Duty Truck Technician Certification: Test Preparation Manual, and so on.) There were a few spy novels, a few mysteries, the Book of Common Prayer (it had curse words written in the margins of many pages). Not great reading material maybe, but also only one or two copies of each. Not enough for everyone. The nurse was right. Not only poor quality, but also poor quantity.

Dr. Barger couldn’t pretend to miss the problem. But he could refuse to admit the fault was his. He looked up at the nurse and said, “I told you to bring all the books from the trunk of my car.”

Before the nurse could argue, explain, or apologize, Dorry proposed, “Why don’t we vote on one book we want to read together. Then maybe New Hyde could get us all copies of that.”

Pepper pointed at the book cart. Why did it bring him a childish pleasure to see the choices were so bad?

“What do you mean?” he joked. “Don’t we all want to read the Medium/Heavy Duty Truck Technician Certification: Test Preparation Manual?”

Dorry tapped Pepper’s forearm, another subtle but effective correction. “I can speak to Dr. Anand. I’ll get him to buy us the books.”

Dr. Barger strained forward at the table. “You’ll talk to Dr. Anand?”

Sammy and Sam clapped. Sammy said, “We like this idea. A title to vote for.”

Dr. Barger just shook his head. “Fine then. I’ll buy us the books if I have to.”

Dorry grinned at the other patients, ignoring Dr. Barger’s glare. “Isn’t that generous?”

“Georgina, will you go get us some tape, and a legal pad?” Dr. Barger asked the nurse.

She nodded, but just as she left the room she said, “My name is Josephine.”

“Better bring a black marker, too,” Dr. Barger said.

Something in Josephine wanted to argue the point—Say my name, say my name!—but realized Dr. Barger was one of a dwindling population: old mutts who were never trained to find others terribly worthwhile. Have an hour’s conversation and these men might be charming, funny, captivating, and kind. But they wouldn’t ask you a single question about yourself. Not one. They simply wouldn’t be interested. They were never trained to be curious about others, and they sure weren’t going to start now. At twenty-four, Josephine already knew she could spend the next minute trying and failing to make Dr. Barger hear her, or she could do something to help these patients. Only one choice was worth it. She left the room to fetch the man his pad and pen and tape.

Dr. Barger said, “Okay, so let’s have some suggestions for books.”

One of the two jokers raised her hand.

“Thank you, Sammy.”

“I’m Sam,” the woman said. “She’s Sammy.”

Dr. Barger said, “What’s your choice then, Sam.”

But it was Sammy who answered. “Ask Click and Clack,” she said.

Dr. Barger’s nostrils flared. “I have no idea what that is.”

Pepper leaned across the table, toward Sammy and Sam. “The Tappet brothers, right?” He looked at the doctor. “It’s a radio show called Car Talk. I love that show.”

Sam pointed at Pepper enthusiastically. “See that, Frankenstein knows what we’re talking about.”

Despite himself, Pepper laughed.

Sammy applauded him. “Hey, that’s nice. Frankenstein’s got a sense of humor.”

Sam and Sammy whistled and cheered.

Dr. Barger knocked on the table again. “We’re not reading a car book.”

Then Loochie spoke, no hand raised, no permission requested. She said, “Magazines.”

“What does that mean?” the doctor asked.

Loochie shrugged. “Magazines. That’s what I like to read in here. Vibe. XXL. Black Hair.”

Pepper said, “You want us all to read Black Hair in Book Group?”

Sammy opened her mouth, she had a joke, but thought better of sharing it.

Dorry spoke calmly. “No offense, Loochie, but I think the rest of us are too old for XXVibe or whatever it’s called.”

Loochie laughed like a native speaker at a foreigner attempting to master her tongue.

Josephine returned with the materials.

“How about Ken Kesey?” Josephine suggested. “One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest? That book meant a lot to me in high school. I think you all might really like it.”