“Ten minutes later the kid came out trailing his mother. She hurried out the door. He stuck out his tongue at me. Loser, I thought, until I saw the white pill sitting on his pink tongue. He coughed into his hand, then mouthed the word remember, tapping his cast, and tossed the pill into the trash can.I watched him leave. He wasn’t glossy. He wasn’t dreary, either. He was something else.He was all there.”