do you for? Let me guess. You're looking for something? A birth certificate?
    The kid is chewing gum and pauses in midchew. He shakes his head. He wears sneakers with the laces untied and spiderweb tattoo sleeves decorate his arms.
    Is the drum set in the window for sale?
    You bet it is, says Hiram. And if you can play a drum solo, I'll drop the price 40 percent. Hiram looks at Jack Brown and winks.
    The teenager smiles. I'll try.
    You interested in that diamond ring or not? asks Brown.
    Let me see what you have.
    I don't have it here with me.
And you want to know what it's worth?
Ballpark figure, yeah. I mean, what I could borrow for it.
    I can't estimate a value on a mythical ring, says Page. King Solomon had three hundred wives, but he still knew you have to bite gold.
    I can get that ring. This afternoon, most likely.
    The teenager gives the drums a steady roll and drowns out Jack Brown's voice.
    Pardon? asks Hiram.
    I can get it, shouts Jack Brown. It! he shouts. The ring! Later today.
    So where is this Star of India?
    It was my grandmother's! He shouts again to be heard above the drum noise. Two teenaged girls who have just wandered in cringe and go wide- eyed.
    Hiram nods. Let me guess. She's no longer among the living?
    Died two years ago.
    The kid kicks into a drum solo. Jack Brown shakes his head. After a moment the kid stops and calls out, I get that 40 percent off ?
    You got it, Ringo, says Hiram.
    The whole set?
    The whole set. I'll even throw in an extra pair of sticks.
    The kid smiles and extricates himself from the drum stool. I'll be back later with the money.
    You do that.
    Hiram calls out to the teenaged girls in the electronics aisle and tells them to give him a holler if they have any questions.
    Now, where were we? he asks Brown. Oh, yes. We were tak
ing a diamond ring off your deceased grandmother. Right. Have to dig her up and soap her finger, do we?
    I gave it to a woman is what I did. Now I'm having second thoughts.
    Hiram smiles. Clear as mud.
    I asked for it back. I'm going to pick it up later. It's early yet.
    And this Ophelia? She's happy to return said expensive romantic keepsake you gave her free and easy? She hasn't sold it already?
    Not if she knows what's good for her.
    Hiram steps away, wiping his hands, mock Pontius Pilate. You bring the ring and I'll take a look.
    I'll be back before you can get bored watching the two fillies there on aisle two.
    Hiram stares back into his eyes. Okay, Cousin Jack. I'll be waiting. But remember what Margaret Thatcher said about patience.
    Margaret who?
    Thatcher. Former prime minister of England. I assume you've heard of the nation of England? Beef eaters and blood pudding? Soccer hooligans? Ring a bell?
    Don't be talking down to me, okay? I know you got me over a barrel, but there's other pawnshops in the world.
    Yes, there are.
    So tell me already. What did this Margaret lady say that I should remember?
    She said, I'm extraordinarily patient, provided I get my own way in the end.
. . .
L i k e s o m e t h i n g out of legend, an equestrian patrol officer appears before La Iglesia de los Niños de Jesus Cristo on a chestnut horse. He dismounts and ties his mare to the crèche, squatting down to get a good look at the girl in the hay. The nun meets him and they speak for a moment. Both wear gauze face masks, struggle to hear each other over the shovel
    The kid is chewing gum and pauses in midchew. He shakes his head. He wears sneakers with the laces untied and spiderweb tattoo sleeves decorate his arms.
    Is the drum set in the window for sale?
    You bet it is, says Hiram. And if you can play a drum solo, I'll drop the price 40 percent. Hiram looks at Jack Brown and winks.
    The teenager smiles. I'll try.
    You interested in that diamond ring or not? asks Brown.
    Let me see what you have.
    I don't have it here with me.
And you want to know what it's worth?
Ballpark figure, yeah. I mean, what I could borrow for it.
    I can't estimate a value on a mythical ring, says Page. King Solomon had three hundred wives, but he still knew you have to bite gold.
    I can get that ring. This afternoon, most likely.
    The teenager gives the drums a steady roll and drowns out Jack Brown's voice.
    Pardon? asks Hiram.
    I can get it, shouts Jack Brown. It! he shouts. The ring! Later today.
    So where is this Star of India?
    It was my grandmother's! He shouts again to be heard above the drum noise. Two teenaged girls who have just wandered in cringe and go wide- eyed.
    Hiram nods. Let me guess. She's no longer among the living?
    Died two years ago.
    The kid kicks into a drum solo. Jack Brown shakes his head. After a moment the kid stops and calls out, I get that 40 percent off ?
    You got it, Ringo, says Hiram.
    The whole set?
    The whole set. I'll even throw in an extra pair of sticks.
    The kid smiles and extricates himself from the drum stool. I'll be back later with the money.
    You do that.
    Hiram calls out to the teenaged girls in the electronics aisle and tells them to give him a holler if they have any questions.
    Now, where were we? he asks Brown. Oh, yes. We were tak
ing a diamond ring off your deceased grandmother. Right. Have to dig her up and soap her finger, do we?
    I gave it to a woman is what I did. Now I'm having second thoughts.
    Hiram smiles. Clear as mud.
    I asked for it back. I'm going to pick it up later. It's early yet.
    And this Ophelia? She's happy to return said expensive romantic keepsake you gave her free and easy? She hasn't sold it already?
    Not if she knows what's good for her.
    Hiram steps away, wiping his hands, mock Pontius Pilate. You bring the ring and I'll take a look.
    I'll be back before you can get bored watching the two fillies there on aisle two.
    Hiram stares back into his eyes. Okay, Cousin Jack. I'll be waiting. But remember what Margaret Thatcher said about patience.
    Margaret who?
    Thatcher. Former prime minister of England. I assume you've heard of the nation of England? Beef eaters and blood pudding? Soccer hooligans? Ring a bell?
    Don't be talking down to me, okay? I know you got me over a barrel, but there's other pawnshops in the world.
    Yes, there are.
    So tell me already. What did this Margaret lady say that I should remember?
    She said, I'm extraordinarily patient, provided I get my own way in the end.
. . .
L i k e s o m e t h i n g out of legend, an equestrian patrol officer appears before La Iglesia de los Niños de Jesus Cristo on a chestnut horse. He dismounts and ties his mare to the crèche, squatting down to get a good look at the girl in the hay. The nun meets him and they speak for a moment. Both wear gauze face masks, struggle to hear each other over the shovel
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