The Second Coming

hospital,” said Slocum.
    â€œYeah.”
    â€œYou okay?”
    â€œI think so.”
    â€œOkay. What’s up?”
    Did I once practice law, he wondered, and he remembered that he had, not so much from the smell of the books as from Slocum’s practiced coolness and his resolve not to be surprised. He smiled. He had been observing doctors and lawyers lately. Both were good at keeping their own counsel and seeming to know something. He hoped Slocum did.
    â€œTwo things. First thing: are you familiar with the North Carolina Revised Statutes relating to the rights of patients pursuant to involuntary admissions under the new Mental Health Law?”
    â€œMore or less, counselor.” Slocum’s voice took on the familiar ironic gravity of talk among lawyers and his eyes shifted slightly, lining up with his, taking in the view with him.
    â€œI take it that no director of a treatment facility shall prohibit any mentally ill person from applying for conversion of involuntary admission status to a voluntary admission status.”
    â€œThat is correct.”
    They both gazed at the mountain, which with its bare trees looked like a moonfaced man with a stubble.
    â€œI wish you to prepare an application for an injunction from old Judge Jenkins enjoining said director, a Dr. Alistair Duk, from detaining the person in question whose name I shall presently give you. As a precautionary measure I wish you also to apply for a writ of habeas corpus for the same person in the event of involuntary detention, say by Dr. Duk with the assistance of the sheriff—though I think such an eventuality highly unlikely. Finally, I wish you to represent the same person in a hearing to establish her mental and legal competence. Vance will bring in a psychiatrist from Duke.”
    â€œNo problem. Is that it?” Slocum asked the pied face of the mountain.
    â€œNo, that’s not it.”
    â€œAll right.”
    â€œAs you must know, I am not a member of the North Carolina bar.”
    â€œI am aware of that. Not even an illustrious member of the New York bar can apply for a writ here. You got to use the local yokels.”
    â€œThat’s true. But that is not why I mentioned it.”
    â€œWhy did you mention it?”
    â€œI intend to take the North Carolina bar examination.”
    â€œAh.” Slocum’s head turned but not enough for their eyes to meet. “You going to run me out of business?”
    â€œNo. I’m going to bring you in some business. How would you like the Peabody business?”
    â€œI would like that.”
    â€œYou can have it. There is something I want.”
    â€œI gathered there was.”
    â€œI want to work with you. You’ve often asked me to. Very well, I will, but not as a partner. I’ve forgotten too much. As a clerk. At first.”
    Now Slocum did look at him. “Why?”
    â€œI want to.”
    â€œI see that. I had figured you figured you quit too early. But aren’t you a little overqualified for this two-bit practice?”
    â€œI’m just telling you what I want. You just tell me whether you will go with it. I shall be very pleased to trace titles, file petitions, pass acts of sale, do courthouse runs. If you don’t employ me, I’ll open up next door and close you down.”
    â€œI do believe you would sandbag me, just like you did in golf.”
    â€œWhat do you say?”
    â€œYou want me to give you an answer now?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œOkay. My answer is that if you really do get around to taking the bar exam and—”
    â€œâ€”and pass?”
    â€œAnd pass. And then if you feel up to it—”
    â€œâ€”if I’m still alive?”
    â€œIf you’re still alive and kicking—”
    â€œYes?”
    â€œYou’re on.”
    â€œOkay.”
    Slocum did not move when he rose. “You know something,” he said to the mountain. “I always did want a Wall Street lawyer to shelve my books and do courthouse runs for me.”
    â€œYou got one.”
    4
    She was asleep when he returned, no sign of her but a tousle of hair and a curve of hip under the motel chenille. The sinking sun made a yellow stripe up the burlap wallpaper.
    Her plate was clean. Her NATO knapsack hung from a hook in the alcove. He walked around the bed to see her. He stood looking down at her, hands in pockets. She slept like a child, face turned into the pillow, lips mashed