The Last Gentleman

Freudian—they’re only to be found down here in the South now—and he went crazy. Of course I got the blame for not putting, him into treatment earlier. But she didn’t sue me.”
    The engineer nodded toward the Deltans. “What about them?”
    â€œWhat about them?”
    â€œWould you put them in the terminal ward?”
    â€œThey’re not screaming.”
    â€œShould they be screaming?”
    â€œI should not presume to say. I only say that if they were screaming, I could have helped them once. I cannot do even that now. I am a pathologist.”
    The engineer frowned. He felt a stirring of anger. There was something unpleasantly ironic about Sutter’s wry rapid way of talking. It was easy to imagine him ten years from now haunting a barroom somewhere and pattering on like this to any stranger. He began to understand why others made a detour around him, so to speak, and let him alone.
    12 .
    He couldn’t sleep. As he lay at attention listening to the frolic in John Houghton’s room below, he began to skid a little and not recollect exactly where he was, like a boy who wakes in a strange bed. In the next bed Jamie breathed regularly. By three o’clock in the morning he was worse off than at any time since Eisenhower was President when he had worked three months for a florist in Cincinnati, assaulted by the tremendous déjà vus of hot green growing things.
    At last he went out to the landing and, seeing a light under Sutter’s door, knocked. Sutter answered immediately. He was sitting in the wagonwheel chair, dressed in the same clothes, feet flat on the floor, arms lying symmetrically on the rests. There was no drink or book beside him.
    At last Sutter turned his head. “What can I do for you?” The naked ceiling bulb cast his eye sockets into bluish shadow. The engineer wondered if Sutter had taken a drug.
    â€œI have reason to believe I am going into a fugue,” said the engineer matter-of-factly. He turned up the collar of his pajamas. It was cold in here. “I thought you might be able to help me.”
    â€œJimmy is in there dying. Don’t you think I should be more concerned with helping him?”
    â€œYes, but I am going to live, and according to you that is harder.”
    Sutter didn’t smile. “Why do you ask me?”
    â€œI don’t know.”
    â€œWhat do you want me to do?”
    â€œTell me what you know.”
    â€œWhy don’t you get married and live happily ever afterwards?”
    â€œWhy was that man screaming that you told me about? You never did say.”
    â€œI didn’t ask him.”
    â€œBut you knew why.”
    Sutter shrugged.
    â€œWas it a psychological condition?” asked the engineer, cocking his good ear.
    â€œA psychological condition,” Sutter repeated slowly.
    â€œWhat was wrong with him, Dr. Vaught?” The pale engineer seemed to lean forward a good ten degrees, like the clown whose shoes are nailed to the floor.
    Sutter got up slowly, scratching his hair vigorously with both hands.
    â€œCome over here.”
    Sutter led him to the card table, which had been cleared of dirty swabs but which still smelled of fruity Hoppe’s gun oil. He fetched two chrome dinette chairs and set them on opposite sides of the table.
    â€œSit down. Now. I think you should go to sleep.”
    â€œAll right.”
    â€œGive me your hand.” Sutter took his hand in the cross-palm grip of Indian wrestling. “Look at me.”
    â€œAll right.”
    â€œDoes it embarrass you to hold hands with a man and look at him?”
    â€œYes.” Sutter’s hand felt as dry and tendinous as broomstraw.
    â€œCount to thirty with me. When we finish counting, you will then be able to do what I tell you.”
    â€œAll right.”
    When they had finished counting, Sutter said: “You say you believe I know something about you. Now you will also do what I tell you.”
    â€œAll right.”
    â€œWhen you leave this room, you will go to your room and sleep soundly for nine hours. Do you understand?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œNow when you do get up tomorrow, something is going to happen. As a consequence, you are going to be in a better position to decide what you want to do.”
    â€œAll right.”
    â€œFor the next few days you may have a difficult time. Now I shall not tell you what to do, but I will tell you now that you will be free