I heard the phone ringing at the desk behind me. Someone picked up and when I glanced over my shoulder, I saw a volunteer standing with her palm across the mouthpiece. “Pearl?”

She held up the handset by way of summons.

“What’d I tell you?” she said, struggling to her feet again.

“Guy owes me an apology big time. I don’t know if I’m accepting it or not. I don’t like abuse, especially when I didn’t do nothing to him.”

“Well, good luck,” I said. “Show the guy some mercy.”

Pearl said, “Ha.”

Meanwhile, Dandy had pulled himself upright. Maybe our conversation had reached him in the depths of his inebriated state. As much as he’d had to drink, he wouldn’t be sober for another two days. If Pearl’s condition was a harbinger, he’d be in a hurt locker the size of hers.

From the direction of the desk, I heard Pearl’s voice rise. “DO NOT SAY THAT. Don’t you say that to me, you son of a bitch!”

There was a silence and Pearl’s voice rose. “Shut your trap! That is not TRUE! You’re a lying sack of shit.”

Another silence while someone on the other end had a few more things to say.

Pearl’s response was to the point. “Hey! You say that again, I’ll come down there and punch you in the face!”

She listened briefly, and then slammed down the handset. “That’s bullshit. What kind of bullshit is that?”

She headed toward us at a lumbering pace, still in too much pain to move with any speed. She was sweating and her skin had turned blotchy in the wake of her rage. Dandy pushed himself to his feet. “What’s up?” he asked.

“I’ll tell you what’s up. You want to know what’s up? That asshole’s telling me Felix died.”

“I saw him last night,” I said.

“Yeah, well, he died an hour ago. How could he do that when I loved the guy? Hey. You know what? Hey . . .”

Her voice broke. Whatever she meant to add, a howl went up instead. The sound was sufficient to freeze everyone in place and then send half the residents scurrying to her aid as though her hand had been caught in the blades of a fan.

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