Don't Say It

Finn sat in a row with two dozen other union men and women. They were quiet and sullen, but every few minutes one of them would laugh, or heckle. The policemen in the room shut them up when they talked. One by one, they were called into a room with an officer. Before long, it was Finn’s turn. 

The officers who guarded them took him, one on each arm, and walked him into the room. A narrow barred window was the only light. The officers sat him down across from the officer. They locked the door on their way out. 

“What’s your name?” asked the officer. Finn didn’t respond. 

“Your name is Montgomery Fineman, Finn.” said the officer. Finn didn’t respond. 

“What were you doing on the corner just now?” asked the officer. Finn didn’t respond. 

“You were taking part in a unionist conspiracy to intimidate the city government.” said the officer. Finn felt himself blush. He didn’t respond. 

“Do you have any statement you’d like to enter?” asked the officer. Finn didn’t respond. The officer looked up at him. 

“You have to answer that one.” Then after a short pause. “Yes or no?” Finn didn’t respond. The officer got up. He walked around the table. He punched Finn. 

Finn, startled, fell off the rickety chair, but instantly bounded back up and squared off with the officer. 

“Assaulting an officer is a lot more serious than public disorder.” said the officer, grinning. “Yes or no?” 

Finn opened his mouth. 

---

“Why did you tell them that?” asked Ilgman. He was standing outside of a police station, standing next to Finn. Finn was sitting, eating a sandwich, slowly, out of a paper wrap. Fin was wearing a wool sweater. Ilgman was wearing a vest, a jacket, and a hat, 

“I thought it would piss them off.” said Finn. He took a long pause, then another bite. 

“Do you think they believed you?” asked Ilgman. Finn paused again. He didn’t answer. He took another bite. Ilgman turned to face Finn. “Do you think they believed you?” 

Finn looked up at Ilgman, incredulously. “No.” he said, after a tortured pause. He went back to his sandwitch. 

Ilgman turned away from Finn. “That was a stupid thing to say.” said Ilgman. “You shouldn’t talk to cops.” 

Finn, exasperated, set the sandwich down. He spoke, with great effort. “I didn’t tell them anything. I was lying, obviously. They knew that. They did this too me then, because they knew I wasn’t telling them anything.” 

“Good.” said Ilgman. Finn spat. Ilgman turned back to him. One of Finn’s teeth was in the street. 

“You’re sure you don’t want a doctor?” asked Ilgman. 

“Better out than in.” said Finn.

---

It was January. It was cold. Finn walked up a flight of stairs bolted to the side of a narrow two story building in the dense edge of town, and knocked on the door.

There was a tiny window set next to the door. It was soot stained, but Finn could see light through it. He could see movement too. After a long pause, Ilgman opened the door. 

“Don’t worry, It’s just Finn.” said Ilgman over his shoulder. A group of men in jackets and wool caps stood behind him. Some were in the process of putting their jackets on. Some stared at Fin. 

Ilgman turned to Finn. “It’s eleven oclock, what is it?” 

“We need to talk.” said Finn. He folded his arms against the cold. He unfolded them under Ilgman’s stare. 

Ilgman nodded curtly. “Just a minute.” he said under his breath. He left the door hanging open and went back inside. “Thank you for coming to me gentlemen, it means a lot.” 

“This has been productive.” said one of the men. Finn recognised him. 

The men all filed out one by one. Finn had to squeeze against the railing to make room for them. He exchanged a curt nod with each one in turn. Ilgman walked the last one to the door. When he was gone, he turned to Finn. 

“Alright, come in.” said Ilgman. Finn did. It was warm. 

The entry lead directly to the kitchen. There was only one other door.

“We need to talk.” said Finn.” 

“You said.” said Ilgman. He did not offer Finn a seat at the large table that dominated the room. 

“We’re not doing enough.” said Ilgman.

“I’m doing all I can.” said Ilgman. “I can’t speak for anyone else.” 

“Bullshit.” said Finn. 

Ilgman walked to the front door and opened it. A cutting breeze blew in. “I get enough shit. You can leave.” 

Finn stayed where he was. “You’ve done a lot for me, Ilgman.” He said. “We’re brothers, or comrades, or however you say it. You’re my friend. Friends get pissed at each other.” 

Ilgman looked at Finn, eyebrows raised. He didn’t move. “Ok.” he said.

“We might as well be the church reading club.” said Finn, calmer. 

“Ah.” said Ilgman. He closed the door. “So we have to have this conversation.” 

“I know this winter isn’t like last year.” said Finn. “No one is going to forget last year.” he added. “But that doesn’t mean there’s nothing wrong this year. We need to do something.” he fingered a piece of paper in his pocket. “We’re going to lose people if we can’t help them.” 

“You’re absolutely right.” said Ilgman. “That’s why we’ve kept the book circles going, so we can keep in touch, and help where it’s needed most.” he folded his arms. 

Finn furrowed his brow. “Well that’s well and good, but you’re the one whose always saying we need to be more militant.” he said. “It’s about collective action, or however it is you put it. What happened?” 

Ilgman took a step closer to fin, kept his arms crossed. After a pause he spoke. “Well, you don’t go to war when the enemy knows your plan.” he said softly, cuttingly. 

“Oh.” said Finn, and he understood. “Damn.” he added. 

“Damn is right.” said Ilgman. 

“I’m sorry.” said Finn, and he walked for the door. 

“The others were raging angry.” said Ilgman, to Finn’s back. Finn paused with his hand on the door. “But we’re all friends. Your friend.” said Ilgman, awkwardly. 

Finn turned. His hand was still on the door. “Thank you.” he said. Then, he left. He was glad to have Ilgman as a friend, but mostly, he was wounded. His honor had been insulted, and he had no one to blame but himself.