Small Mercies

by Dennis Lehane

They hear the commotion and turn back to see the MDC cops and the security guys hustling Teddy toward the building named after his brother. Mary Pat is baffled by the back of Teddy’s suit. It’s almost completely white now, as if he’s been shit on by a flock of birds. It takes her a second to realize it isn’t bird shit. It’s spit. The crowd is spitting on a Kennedy. Mary Pat feels ill. Isn’t there a line we don’t cross? she wants to ask the crowd. Isn’t there a place we don’t allow ourselves to go? The crowd keeps spitting on the senator until his guards and the two cops get him into the federal building. The front of the building is clear glass, so Mary Pat can see them hustling him toward the elevators, and that should have been the end of it—everyone should have regained their sense—but then a pane of glass the size of a semitruck shatters. The crowd lets out a roar of approval. Joyful shrieks split the air like birdshot.