Shallow Graves

revive him. The doctor’s been in there since we got here. He hasn’t said anything.”
    “Oh, Keith, he was so pale. It was terrible. . . .”
    With an anger they knew was not directed toward them Keith asked, “What happened? Did he fall? Is it a seizure?”
    Meg wiped her face. “We just found him. Keith, it was so horrible. He was just lying there. It was like he didn’t have any muscles. I tried to wake him up. He wouldn’t wake up.” She looked at Pellam with her trapped-animal eyes, staring at him but undoubtedly seeing the horrific image of her son’s pale skin against the autumn leaves. “He wouldn’t wake up.”
    Keith looked like he wanted to hurt someone. It didn’t seem to matter to him whether this’d been caused by another human being or an animal or some haywire connections in the boy’s brain. He wanted revenge.
    Meg pressed her cheek against her husband’s chest and didn’t say anything. Slowly she calmed.
    The doctor who resembled a vet, the one who’d tended Pellam, appeared and walked slowly down the corridor.
    The man had such an expressive face that no words were necessary. There was no doubt about the boy’s condition. Pellam remembered the way the man looked at him when he’d entered the room to tell him about Marty’s death.
    This was no tragedy.
    The doctor’s round jowly face zeroed in on Meg’s eyes and he said, “He’ll be okay.”
    Meg began crying again, quieter, but more desperately. “Can I see him?”
    “Sure, Meg. In just a second.”
    Keith’s anger vanished at once as if he were afraid prolonged hate might reverse the results. “What happened to him? Was it a seizure?”
    “Keith, I need to ask this. Does Sam have any history of drug use?”
    “Drug use?” The laugh was explosive.
    Meg let go of her husband and turned to face the doctor. “He’s ten years old, how could he—?”
    “Drug use?” Keith repeated as if he hadn’t heard correctly.
    “What did—” she began.
    The doctor said, “He overdosed on drugs.”
    With a blustery edge in her voice Meg said, “No! Not Sam.”
    “Oh, give me a fucking break,” Keith growled. “Are you nuts?”
    The doctor continued. “It’s true, Keith. It looks like it was an opiate of some kind. Probably heroin.”
    Keith exploded. “Are you saying he was shooting up? That’s the craziest, fucking thing—” Meg touched her husband’s arm. He calmed. “I’m sorry. But you made a mistake.”
    “I’m as disturbed about this as you are. . . . The doctor lifted a small plastic envelope out of his pocket. Inside were tiny fragments of crystals. “These were in his mouth. It’s extremely soluble. Which means he ingested much more than this.”
    All three stared at the bag.
    “It’s a dextrose base—sugar—but it’s mixed with something else. I don’t know what exactly. A synthetic heroin of some kind. Stronger than Percodan. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
    “Somebody put heroin in candy and gave it to my son?” Keith whispered. He looked at Meg and said, almost accusingly, “Who was he with? Did you see anybody, weren’t you watching him?”
    Pellam bristled, felt defensive for Meg. “We were both with the boy. He’d run off every once in a while but we—”
    “For God’s sake, Keith, we were at the Apple Festival. I wasn’t letting him wander around in the South Bronx—”
    He blinked. “I’m sorry, I just—”
    She took his hand.
    The doctor said, “I’ve called Tom. I had to. Whatever this is it’s a controlled substance and I’ve got to report it.”
    “Fucking right you’re going to report it,” Keith growled. “But I don’t want a story in the Leader. I don’t want it to sound like he was doing drugs.”
    “I won’t say anything to the paper. But this’s serious, Keith. I don’t know—Tom may want to bring somebody from Albany in.”
    In a faint voice, Meg said, “Please let me see my son.”
    “Come on,” the doctor said. He glanced at Pellam, then down at the leg where the bruise resided. “How you doing, sir?” he asked pleasantly but without particular interest.
    “Fine.”
    The doctor put his arm around Meg and led her down the corridor. Keith said, “Excuse me,” to Pellam and followed.
    Pellam sat down in an aluminum and orange naugahyde chair and looked at a month-old People magazine without reading a single word, or seeing a single picture.
    An hour later, Sam walked unsteadily out of the room. Meg had her arm around him and