The Last Gentleman

Sutter shrugged.
    The engineer was silent.
    Sutter rammed a wad through the barrel. “I had a patient once who lived under the necessity of being happy. He almost succeeded but did not quite. Since he did not, he became depressed. He became very unhappy that he was not happy. I put him in the terminal ward of the hospital, where he was surrounded by the dying. There he soon recovered his wits and became quite cheerful. Unfortunately—and by the purest bad luck—he happened to suffer a serious coronary before I sent him home. As soon as it became apparent that he was going to die, I took it upon myself to remove him from his oxygen tent and send him home to his family and garden. There he died. The hospital didn’t like it much. His wife sued me for a half a million dollars. The insurance company had to pay.”
    The engineer, still smiling faintly, was watching the other like a hawk. “Dr. Vaught, do you know what causes amnesia?”
    â€œCauses it? Like a virus causes chicken pox?”
    â€œHave you seen many cases?”
    â€œDo you regard yourself as a case?”
    â€œI would like to know.”
    â€œYou are a very persistent young man. You ask a great many questions.”
    â€œAnd I notice you don’t answer them.”
    The pistol was assembled. Sutter sat down, shoved in the clip, pulled back the breach and rang up a bullet. He clicked the safety and took aim at the Arab physician. The engineer screwed up one eye against the shot, but Sutter sighed and set the pistol down.
    â€œAll right, Barrett, what’s wrong?”
    â€œSir?”
    â€œI’m listening. What’s wrong?”
    Now, strangely, the engineer fell silent for a good twenty seconds.
    Sutter sighed. “Very well. How old are you?”
    â€œTwenty-five.”
    Sutter was like an unwilling craftsman, the engineer perceived, a woodworker who has put on his coat and closed up shop. Now a last customer shows up. Very well, if you insist. He takes the wood from the customer, gives it a knock with his knuckles, runs a thumb along the grain.
    â€œAre you a homosexual?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œDo you like girls much?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œHow much?”
    â€œVery much.”
    â€œDo you have intercourse with girls?”
    The engineer fell silent.
    â€œYou don’t like to speak of that?”
    He shook his head.
    â€œDid you speak of it with your psychiatrist?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œDo you mean that for five years you never told him whether you had intercourse with girls?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œWhy not?”
    â€œIt was none of his business.”
    Sutter laughed. “And none of mine. Did you tell him that?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œYou were not very generous with him.”
    â€œPerhaps you are right.”
    â€œDo you believe in God?”
    The engineer frowned. “I suppose so. Why do you ask?”
    â€œMy sister was just here. She said God loves us. Do you believe that?”
    â€œI don’t know.” He stirred impatiently.
    â€œDo you believe that God entered history?”
    â€œI haven’t really thought about it.”
    Sutter looked at him curiously. “Where are you from?”
    â€œThe Delta.”
    â€œWhat sort of man was your father?”
    â€œSir? Well, he was a defender of the Negroes and—”
    â€œI know that I mean what sort of man was he? Was he a gentleman?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œDid he live in hope or despair?”
    â€œThat is hard to say.”
    â€œWhat is the date of the month?”
    â€œThe nineteenth.”
    â€œWhat month is it?”
    The engineer hesitated.
    â€œWhat is the meaning of this proverb: a stitch in time saves nine?”
    â€œI would have to think about it and tell you later,” said the engineer, a queer light in his eye.
    â€œYou can’t take time off to tell me now?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œYou really can’t tell me, can you?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œWhy can’t you?”
    â€œYou know why.”
    â€œYou mean it is like asking a man hanging from a cliff to conjugate an irregular verb?”
    â€œNo. I’m not hanging from a cliff. It’s not that bad. It’s not that I’m afraid.”
    â€œWhat is it then?”
    The engineer was silent
    â€œIs it rather that answering riddles does not seem important to you? Not as important as—” Sutter paused.
    â€œAs what?” asked the