I reached Feld's doorway before the first workers and found two chairs already placed against the brick. I had sat in one often enough to know which leg rocked. This time I stayed on my feet. My purpose was simple until I tried to name it: let people enter who wanted work, let the others pass, and keep Bell's men from taking anyone away. But I was there because Bell had told me to come. The doorway made no distinction between my intentions and his authority. To anyone approaching, I was the same old man in the same old place.
The morning had a wet chill. Men arrived with their lunches wrapped in paper and stopped short when they saw me. One crossed the street. Another asked whether there was work upstairs. I said Feld was there. He asked whether Esther had agreed to anything. “You'll have to ask her.” He gave a short laugh and went away. I had once been able to settle a question by lowering my voice. Now even the truth sounded like evasion. I moved one chair farther from the entrance so people could pass without brushing its occupant, if an occupant came.
Bell arrived with two men behind him. He looked at the displaced chair, pulled it back, and sat. “You can stand if you like,” he said. I told him the stairs had to stay clear. He inspected my missing coat button. “Get that fixed. You look as though somebody threw you out.” I felt the younger men watching to see whether I would smile. Instead I climbed three steps and called up to Feld that the door was open. His face appeared over the rail, pale and unshaven. He nodded but did not come down.
When I returned to the pavement, Isaac stood across the street beside another worker. I knew him by the way he held one shoulder higher, though his cap shaded his face. He looked toward the upper windows, not at me. I started across, meaning to speak before Bell noticed him. A wagon rattled between us. When it passed, Isaac was moving fast around its rear, carrying a length of wood low beside his leg. I called his name. He raised it above his shoulder and rushed toward Bell, whose chair was tipped back against the wall.
I caught Isaac's wrist before he reached him. The wood struck the brick beside Bell's head with a flat crack. Bell's chair came forward, scraping. Isaac twisted against my grip, and I drove him sideways into the wall, using my shoulder against his chest. He was younger and stronger, but his arm was caught between us. I could smell damp wool and the sourness of a sleepless night. “Let it fall,” I said. He tried to wrench free. I tightened both hands around his forearm until his fingers opened. The wood dropped and bounced against my shoe.
Bell had risen. One of his men reached for Isaac's collar while the other stepped toward the street to cut him off. I held Isaac still, and for a second it would have been easy to turn him over. I had stopped a blow against Morris; surely Morris could see that. Then Isaac said through his teeth, “Going upstairs with me too?” He meant Esther. My hands remembered her empty place on the landing. I shifted my weight, pulled Isaac away from the wall, and turned so my back came between him and the reaching man. “Go,” I said, releasing his wrist.
He stumbled once, recovered, and ran behind the departing wagon. Bell's man tried to push past me. I caught his sleeve just long enough to spoil his start. Bell struck both palms against my chest and shoved. I hit the doorjamb, my sore knee folding beneath me, and went down on one hand. The dropped wood lay within reach. I left it there. Above me Feld shouted from the stairs, not words I could separate, only a frightened demand that somebody stop. Two workers retreated from the curb. The man I had delayed looked to Bell rather than pursue Isaac alone.
I got up using the jamb. Bell stood close enough that I could see a small patch he had missed shaving. “You caught him for me,” he said. I shook my head. “I stopped him hitting you.” For years there would have been no difference. Now the difference had put me on the pavement and sent Isaac running free. Bell pointed down the street. “Get away from my doorway.” Feld remained above us, silent. I straightened the chair I had knocked crooked when I fell, then let go of it. Nobody moved aside ceremoniously. I simply walked out of the place I used to control.