Henry of Atlantic City (21 page)

The doctor nodded. “Every word is a sign, Henry, and signs are symbols. And symbols contain meanings.”

Henry splashed more water in the fountain.

“Down, earth, woman, mother, water, fruit, sea, light, many.” Dr. Alt repeated Henry’s words. “The psyche contains
universes
Within
universes
of meaning,” Dr. Alt said. “And it is anything but innocent, and embraces every
beautiful mystery.” His voice trailed off and he watched Henry splash with a misty look in his eyes. Henry stopped splashing and didn’t know what to do. Then, without thinking about it or knowing why, he wiped his wet hands on his pants, drew up, and gave Dr. Alt a hug. The old man was surprised but he didn’t pull away. He hugged Henry back—not tightly but like a big animal playing with a smaller one. Then he reached into his pocket, took out a handkerchief, and blew his nose. For a minute Henry thought the old man was going to cry. “Can we go get sunglasses now?” he asked.

“Let’s do it,” the doctor said. He tucked his handkerchief back into his pocket and got to his feet.

Dr. Alt and Henry crossed the street and went into a drugstore that sold sunglasses. Henry picked out a pair. They were round with leather cups and had a string that you put around your neck. Dr. Alt said they were the kind you climbed mountains with. When Henry put them on, the store went dark green and Henry wondered if that was what
Myctophidae
saw with the lamp hanging off its nose way down at the bottom of the ocean.

When they got outside Dr. Alt said it was time to return to court. They passed in front of the big glass windows of the store and Henry saw his reflection with his new sunglasses.

“How do you like them?” Dr. Alt asked.

“They make everything look green.” He now looked at the sun. It was a green disk, not a yellow ball of fire.

Dr. Alt took Henry’s hand. “Now, watch where you’re going,” he said and they crossed the street together. When they were on the other side Dr. Alt let go of Henry’s hand. “You look like Sir Edmund Hillary.”

“Who is that?”

“One of the first men to climb Mount Everest.”

“What is Mount Everest?”

“It’s the highest mountain in the world, Henry.” He lifted his cane and pointed up into the sky as if the mountain were right in front of them. Then they walked back to the courthouse.

Father Rogan and Father Crowley and Mr. Downey were waiting for them outside the courtroom.

“Where’d the sunglasses come from?” Father Crowley asked.

“I bought Henry a little present,” Dr. Alt said.

“This isn’t the time for giving presents,” Father Rogan said. “Take off the glasses, Henry. We’re going into court.”

Henry shook his head.

“Don’t argue with me, Henry. Take off the glasses.”

Henry shook his head again.

Father Crowley reached out to take off Henry’s sunglasses but Henry clamped them onto his head with both hands and turned away.

“Take off the glasses, Henry.
NOW!
” Father Rogan’s voice echoed through the corridor. People turned to see where it came from.

Henry said he wanted to wear them.

“I’m going to count to three, Henry,” Father Rogan said, and he counted to three. Then he grabbed Henry by the arm and tried to take off his glasses but Henry stomped on the priest’s foot as hard as he could. Father Rogan yelled, “Ouch!” and doubled over.

Henry said he was keeping the glasses on.

Father Rogan’s whole bald head went red. “I’ve taken about as much crap from you as I care to, young man.” He reached out to grab Henry’s arm but Henry bolted. The priest caught up to him at the water fountain. He grabbed his upper arm and marched him past Dr. Alt and Father Crowley and Mr. Downey straight into the courtroom. When they got to their seats Father Rogan said, “Sit!”

Henry sat down and held on to his glasses with both hands and didn’t look up.

Father Crowley and Dr. Alt followed them in.

“Is there a problem?” the judge asked.

“Henry refuses to remove his sunglasses, your honor.”

“I can see that,” the judge said. “This is a court of law, young man. Please remove the sunglasses so we can proceed.”

Henry shook his head.

“Stand up,” the judge told Henry.

Henry stood up but held on to his glasses with both hands and kept his head down.

“Look at me.”

Henry looked up at the judge, who was leaning forward with his hands clasped and his elbows spread out on the desk. There were more people in the courtroom than there had been before lunch. Theodora smiled at Henry.

“Remove the glasses,” the judge said.

Henry dropped his hands to his sides but kept the sunglasses on.

The room was quiet.

“Young man, if you don’t remove those glasses this instant, I will have the guard remove them for you.”

A guard came over and Henry let him pluck the glasses from his face. They were attached to a string so he let them drop and Henry just stood there with the sunglasses hanging around his neck looking straight ahead like the saints looking down from the ceiling of the Hagia Sophia.

“Please sit down,” the judge said.

Mr. Downey talked first. He called on Father Crowley. “I’d like you to give us your impression of the O’Brien family,” he said.

Father Crowley nodded. “The O’Briens are very nice people,” he said. “They seemed genuinely concerned about the boy’s welfare and never interfered in my efforts to get to know him.” Then he talked about their Saturday talks and told the judge about how Henry had run away the first time during school and how he had sneaked out of the rectory the second time.

Mr. Downey interrupted. “Would you say that the O’Briens provided a stable home environment for the boy?”

“Yes. I’d say so,” the priest said. “But for various reasons Henry was simply not able to adjust.”

Mr. Downey looked up at the judge and asked Father Crowley, “Would you say that Henry has adjusted to Saint Jude’s?”

“He has appeared to.”

“Thank you, Father,” Mr. Downey said and then called on Father Rogan. “Would you tell us a little about Saint Jude’s?” he asked.

Father Rogan began to tell the history of Saint Jude’s from the beginning. He described the facilities and the routines and the responsibilities and the educational opportunities each boy was offered. The judge interrupted. “It sounds like an impressive institution, Father,” he said. “But I’m afraid our time is limited.”

“I understand, your honor,” Father Rogan said. Then he talked about the individual attention that each boy received. He began naming boys who had left Saint Jude’s and become famous, starting with the most famous one, who worked for the president of the United States and got his name in the newspapers almost every day.

Theodora’s lawyer interrupted. “I object, your honor. I don’t see how the names of alumni are relevant here.”

The judge let Father Rogan continue.

Father Rogan talked for a little while about the philosophy of Saint Jude’s.

The judge interrupted. “Thank you, Father. Briefly, could you state why you think Henry should remain at Saint Jude’s?”

Father Rogan looked down for a moment and the lights in the ceiling flashed off his bald head. He took out a handkerchief and patted the back of his neck and wiped his brow. “It’s my opinion, your honor, as a priest and an educator, that a hotel casino in Atlantic City is no place for a child to grow up.” He spoke very slowly and deliberately. “Especially since the boy has already lived there and seems to have been exposed to some rather—shall we say unseemly?—things.” He looked at Theodora. “Henry seems to have some rather special
gifts
. I think it would be appropriate to call them that. At any rate, the nature of his gifts makes it even more imperative that he be placed in an appropriate environment. For the life of me, I can’t imagine how the moral and spiritual aspects of Henry’s education could be advanced in the atmosphere of one of the biggest gambling hotels in the country.” He wiped his head again. “That’s all I have to say, your honor.”

The judge wrote down some things and everyone in the room was quiet. Then he told Theodora’s lawyer to proceed. The man behind the briefcase stood up and touched his pen to his lips as though he were still thinking about what to say. Then he called on Farley. “As Henry’s
probation officer, could you please tell us about your last visit to Saint Jude’s?”

Farley stood up and explained that she had gone to Saint Jude’s with a representative of the adoption agency and a state social worker.

“You all saw Henry during the visit?”

“We did, yes.”

“Describe the circumstances, please.”

“Well, we were taken into the director’s office. Henry was brought in by a staff member.”

“Could you describe Henry’s appearance?”

“He appeared to have been badly beaten.”

Father Rogan tried to stand up but Mr. Downey pulled him back into his seat.

“Describe Henry’s appearance.”

“He had a large bruise on one side of his face.” She traced a line under her own eye. “His cheek was badly swollen. Also, it looked to me like his nose might have been broken.”

Father Rogan stood up. “Excuse me, your honor. This is a total exaggeration. Nothing was broken.”

“Please, Father,” the judge said.

“Did you ask what happened?”

“Yes,” Farley said. “May I read from my notes?”

The judge nodded.

Farley flipped open a small notebook she was holding. “The answer was, quote, ‘Some of the older boys got rough with him, unquote.”

“Is that all you were told?”

“It is,” Farley said.

“Were you satisfied with the answer?”

“No, sir. I was not,” Farley said. “I had the feeling that it wasn’t being taken very seriously”

“In what way?”

“Well, like we weren’t being told everything.”

“Are you a mother?” Theodora’s lawyer asked Farley.

“I have two children.”

Theodora’s lawyer folded his hands together and held them in front of his mouth like he was about to say something that he really didn’t want to say. Mr. Downey leaned over and whispered to Father Rogan. Dr. Alt took Henry’s hand and held it. Nobody stirred. Even his angel was silent. Henry felt the whole courtroom staring at him.

Farley went on talking. Henry just sat there between the two priests and played with the sunglasses around his neck. He looked over at Theodora now and then because she was sitting there quietly and not saying anything. He tried to imagine his mother and his angel began to talk again. Its voice was like a whisper because all secrets must be whispered and Henry thought about his visit to prison where all the whispers were drowned out by the shouting and clamoring of the prisoners and he understood that being in prison was like being whispered in a secret. Being in prison meant being in the shadow of the light. It meant coming forth into the air from the invisible mother and
hardening through her hardness. As a saint, Henry knew that being in the world meant passing from prison to prison.

Then the yelling began. Father Rogan and Mr. Downey were yelling at Theodora’s lawyer. The judge was banging his hammer and saying, “Come to order. Come to order.” Father Rogan started telling the judge that Theodora’s lawyer was making outrageous insinuations and his tactics were despicable. Henry didn’t listen to the fighting; he was trying to hear his angel. Then Dr. Alt took him by the hand and led him out of the courtroom.

“There’s no need for us to sit through all this,” he said.

Henry put on his sunglasses and they went into a big room that was filled with people watching TV and reading newspapers and magazines. “I’m exhausted,” Dr. Alt said. He sat down and held his cane between his knees and patted Henry’s shoulder. He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. “I’m just completely exhausted.”

A little while later they went back into the courtroom because it was Dr. Alt’s turn to talk. While he talked everyone in the room was quiet. Even the lawyers didn’t try to interrupt him. He told the judge about his impression when he first met Henry and then about how it changed after his later talks with him. “I would be glad to explain my opinion. But it’s rather technical.”

The judge nodded.

Dr. Alt took off his glasses and cleaned them. “First of all, it must be understood that
analytical
psychology rests
upon the premise that the unconscious is the habitus of ancestral psychic life and that it is made up of several elements, each of which has separate and autonomous functions. These separate elements of the unconscious must maintain a certain relationship to each other to produce what we call
normality
in the psychological sense.” He stopped to let these comments sink in, then continued. “Now, in analytical psychology, the
ego
is defined as the complex of factors made of all
conscious
contents. It is the center of consciousness and makes up the
empirical
personality—in the sense that the ego is the subject of all conscious acts. The
self
is not to be confused with the ego. The self encompasses all aspects of the conscious
and
unconscious personality, and thus contains and even defines the ego.” He drew a circle in the air with his finger. “This is the self.” He drew a smaller circle inside it. “This is the ego.” He poked his finger into it as though he were popping a balloon. Then he looked around the room as though he wanted someone to ask a question. But nobody did, so he continued. “The more numerous and significant the
unconscious
contents which are assimilated by the ego, the closer the approximation of the ego to the self.” He let his cane fall against his chair and cupped his hands in the air and spread them apart. “This produces an
inflation
of the ego—unless a critical line of demarcation is drawn between it and the unconscious figures.”

The courtroom was still quiet. Everyone was watching the old priest but nobody said anything and nobody asked
any questions. Only the judge looked interested. Henry put his sunglasses on but Father Rogan took them off and forced Henry’s hand into his lap and held it there.