Chapter 6: Night Desk

On Saturday night Javier worked the front desk at the campus clinic from ten until two.

He said so at dinner, in passing, with his mouth full of bread.

"Two nights a week," he said. "It pays for my books."

Dante's fork stopped halfway.

The clinic was a low building across the quad, with one lamp over the door and an empty car park behind it.

At night the quad had no lights at all.

"On your own?" he asked.

"There's a nurse in the back. And Security does a round."

"Security is one man with a flashlight," Daniel said, helpfully.

"Thank you, Daniel."

"I'm only saying."

Javier shrugged into his jacket at a quarter to ten.

"Don't wait up," he said. "Either of you."

The door clicked shut behind him.

Dante sat very still on the edge of his bed.

He could see it clearly.

He could see himself walking across the quad ten steps behind Javier.

He could see himself sitting in the dark car park until two with the engine off.

He had done it a hundred times, in the old life.

Javier had found out in the second month and gone silent for three days.

"You're going to go after him," Daniel said, from the other bed, in an interested voice.

"No."

"You've got your shoes on."

Dante looked down.

He had his shoes on.

He took them off, one at a time, and set them side by side under the bed.

"You're allowed to worry," Daniel said. "He's my best friend, I worry too. I just don't do the shoe thing."

"I'm not going anywhere."

"Good. Do you know any anatomy?"

"Not a word."

"Then sit down and I'll teach you the brachial plexus." Daniel patted the mattress. "It's a nightmare. It'll take your mind off everything."

It took Dante's mind off nothing.

But it gave his hands something to hold.

He learned the five roots and the three trunks and the divisions and the cords.

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