“There are lots of people who want a revolution. The Christian Front, the Christian Mobilizers, the Silver Shirts, the American Patriots, the Crusaders for Americanism, even the Communists.”

Arthur stopped. A squirrel shot out from a bush. Josef watched it go. He saw the heart pumping under its fur.

“And you, Arthur, what do you want?”

“Joe, not everybody gets to live the American dream. Just look at the people in the factories. Sometimes you have to work outside the law. After all, it’s the law that keeps people like us on the outside. If I only took on normal print jobs, you think I could employ you? They all pay me extra because I’m the only one who will work with them. The majority of Americans are democratic. They hate anyone who steps out of line. You just haven’t noticed yet because you’ve made such a cozy little nest for yourself up in Harlem, like Thoreau in his cabin, as if you were the only person far and wide. You’re not a part of American society, Joe. Don’t kid yourself.”

Josef looked at the townhouses that surrounded the park. They didn’t say a word until they’d reached Columbus Circle. The weekly meeting of the Christian Front was taking place in the rectory of a church.

On the chairs inside sat about a hundred men. The air was already stale, the windowpanes covered in condensation. They were all immigrants—mainly Italians, Germans, Irish. He recognized them by their ill-fitting suits and the combative way they carried themselves. They stared toward the front expectantly, mouths open. He sat next to a man who chewed vigorously on a piece of gum. Swastikas on collar pins and on flags framing the portrait of Father Coughlin.

The loudspeakers crackled. The man up front spoke of revolution, of the people, of race, of patriotism and the nation. He asked questions, and the men shouted answers. Mostly it was the word that Mrs. Dollings didn’t like hearing. Sometimes they pumped their fists in the air; Arthur joined in.

Josef turned around and looked into red faces. He thought about whether he should just stand up and leave. If he did, would they run him down and vent their rage on him?

Now the priest was calling the president “Rosenfeld” and the New Deal a “Jew Deal.”

Josef turned and spoke into Arthur’s ear, “But Roosevelt isn’t Jewish.”

“No, but he’s fighting Nazi Germany. So he clearly sympathizes with the Jews.”

“But America isn’t taking in hardly any refugees from Europe. There’s been a huge amount of criticism. It’s barely twenty thousand a year!”

“Take it easy,” said Arthur.

After the meeting somebody waved a flyer under his nose: “Get Social Justice delivered to your home once a month, just two dollars a year.”

Arthur stepped in: “Joe here prints the damn things for you, you pea brain.”