Eugene regarded it with a strange smile. I am a visionary, he said. That’s why I brought Dr. Singh here on board. His job is to use a mix of persuasive chemicals and conversion to bring enemies into the fold, into an understanding of the way.
Gaan naai jou Ma, Jan said, softly, so softly that Eugene had to lean in to hear her properly.
Sunil was shocked at the language; the Jan he knew would never have told anyone to fuck his mother. More than the shock was his fear for her. But if Eugene was upset, his body didn’t register it. Instead he leaned forward and picked up the piece of pear with the glistening pearl of spittle on it. He studied it for a moment, then put it in his mouth and, never taking his eyes off Jan, he chewed slowly, thoughtfully.
Talk to Sunil, Eugene said, getting up. Don’t make me come back here.
I’ll talk to him as much as you want, but nothing will change, Jan said, her eyes glued to Sunil’s face, the look in them heavy with pity and disgust.
Eugene paused. He returned to the table and picked up the silver ornamented object.
Remember the Victorians, he asked. They loved to collect the strangest things. This is a working reproduction of a medieval torture device. It belonged to my grandfather, who loved the fact that something so beautiful could inflict so much pain. Do you know what they called this? It’s called the Pear because there is this ornamented pearlike extension on the end of this handle, do you see? Do you know how it works? I’ll show you.
And he did. Holding the handle in the middle, he turned the knob at the bottom. As he did so, the metal pear opened up into four perfect quarters, spreading like the metal petals of a flower.
You see, it’s quite ingenious really. You insert the pear into someone’s mouth, and then you twist the bottom here until it begins to open. You keep twisting it and pretty soon it breaks the teeth, dislocates the jaw, even begins to rip the cheeks apart. Of course, the trick is to do it little by little, pausing occasionally to let the victim catch their breath while you wait for the confession you want.
Everyone watched the metal pear as it opened wider and wider.
Of course, Eugene said, if you go at it long enough, you will eventually kill the victim, but only after a very long time and pain that is unimaginable, even for me. Now, the great thing about this, as I found out once, is that it works on any human orifice. Any.
Eugene put the open pear down on the table in front of Jan.
This is a very rare and expensive piece. I don’t use it often, but for you, only the best will do. So please, talk to Sunil. Don’t make me come back here. I didn’t lie when I said I don’t enjoy torture, but as you now know, I really enjoy pears.
The door closed behind him and Constable Mashile gently, almost politely.
Jan, Sunil said.
Sunil, Jan said.
Harvest moon, Salazar said, as they drove through the silent desert.
What?
The moon, Salazar said, pointing. It’s called a harvest moon.
Ever seen a harvest, Sunil asked.
It’s just an expression, Jesus, Salazar said.
Sunil looked out the window. In the dark, the landscape looked like home, like the brush of the grasslands, the heat of the Namibian desert that seemed determined to creep down into South Africa, the hills like those of Cape Town and the gold silts of Jozi.
Why did you become a policeman, Sunil asked.
Always wanted to be a hero, Salazar said.
Everybody does, but was there any one thing that made you want to do that as a policeman?
I don’t follow.
Well, you could have been a surgeon or a fireman, but you chose policeman. And don’t tell me it’s about the gun. In all the time I’ve been with you, you’ve never used it, never even pulled it out, or even acted like you have it.
Maybe I’m old-school, Salazar said. Maybe I like to settle a fight with my fists. Maybe I’ve used my gun too many times already.
Maybe.
All right. My dad was a man who worked hard his whole life in a job he hated. A job that cut him off from his first love, the sea. He gave everything up for me, my sister, Ana, and my mom. He and Ana died in a robbery in a 7-Eleven that went bad. But because he was an immigrant, a Cuban, a brown man, nobody took his death, or Ana’s, seriously. The police, it seems, didn’t care. The case was closed in a week. Insufficient leads, they said. My mom moved us to Vegas, where she could be as far from that memory as possible. But I never forgot, and I decided to join up when I could and make a difference. I wanted to show that every life is valuable, has meaning, must be honored.
Salazar, I’m fucking impressed. You are some kind of hero, Sunil said.
Yeah, well, twenty years on the force changes you. Teaches you that it’s all about compromise, about gray areas, about difficult moral things. Mostly I just want to make it through the day without having to kill anyone. And trust me, I’ve used my gun plenty. I don’t know why the crazies always turn up on my watch.
I know the difficulty of trying to make moral decisions in the face of immoral moments. I know that there is no moral way to take a life, but sometimes life hands you very difficult choices. Still, you always want to do the right thing, he said.
There was a moment of silence.
That’s why the dead girl haunts you, she reminds you of Ana, Sunil said.
The worst part of being a cop, Salazar said, is that everyone hates you, and yet as soon as some shit goes down, they call 911 and want you to risk your life to protect them.
Sunil laughed. You should have been a fireman, he said. Much less complicated.
Damned right. And what about you? Why did you become a shrink and not a surgeon?
Sunil took a deep breath. Fair is fair, he thought. My mother was mentally ill, he said. But she died before I could help her, and that, Detective, is why I became, as you like to say, a shrink.
Salazar was silent for a moment. He took a silver flask from his jacket pocket and, without speaking, passed it to Sunil.
Been holding out on me, I see, Sunil said. He drank deeply, the alcohol burning through him, then passed the flask back to Salazar, who took a swig and returned it to his jacket pocket.
Isn’t drinking while driving illegal, Sunil asked.
I’m the fucking police.
Sunil laughed.
Do you think anything ever changes, Salazar asked. That we can make a difference? That we will become a better species?
I don’t know, I’m not sure if it even matters. I think all that matters is that we don’t shrink away from the truth and that we keep trying, Sunil said.
I like that. Push the stone up the fucking hill because we should.
Yes, Sunil said. There is merit in that, grace even. Maybe that’s what makes us deeply human. Pushing ever against the inevitable. I think the world might just be saved that way.
Fuck, this is some heavy shit. Makes me want to tell a dirty joke as a palate cleanser.
I love dirty jokes, Sunil said.
Okay, here’s one. A man wakes up in the emergency room and the doctor says, You’ve been in an accident. Do you remember anything? The man shakes his head. So the doctor says, Well, we’ve got good news and bad news for you. All right, says the man, tell me the bad news. The bad news is that your penis was severed in the accident, the doctor said, and it arrived too late to reattach it. So what’s the good news, the man asked. The good news is that we can rebuild it, but it will cost a thousand dollars an inch. We found a savings book in your briefcase with nine thousand dollars in it, so you should talk to your wife about this. If you spend three thousand but she’s used to six, then it will be dissappointing, but if you spend all nine thousand and she’s used to three, well then, that won’t be good. So talk to her and I’ll check in with you in the morning. The next day the doctor calls the man and asks what he and his wife have decided to get. Well, the man said, she decided we should get the expensive granite countertop for the kitchen that she’s always wanted.