The sky was turning gray by the time the police were done talking to me. But for all that time, all I could see, over and over, was the moment when they’d handcuffed Sy and ducked him into a police cruiser. There was an ambulance for the drunk, who had finally registered the pain in his jaw even through the alcohol haze. In their absence, there was a circus: statements taken, more cruisers, sirens and lights…And then the photographers arrived.