Henry of Atlantic City

by Frederick Reuss

  After a little while they went back inside. Henry was happy to see Mohammed Ali and Helena with a baby in her stomach. His angel was happy too and said no creation was so completely flawed that no good could come out of it.

  “Are the O’Briens treating you badly?” Helena asked.

  Henry said not only were they unable to detain the perfect man, they were unable to see him; for if they saw him they would detain him.

  “Henry, this is serious. Everybody’s in trouble.”

  Henry told Helena that her mother and Sy were married.

  “I know,” Helena said. “They’re all in big trouble. Your father too. Did Mrs. O’Brien tell you?”

  Henry said no.

  “Do you know what a fugitive is?”

  Henry said no.

  “It’s someone who is wanted by the police and who has to go underground.”

  Henry asked where underground.

  “Nobody knows where. That’s why they say underground. It means they have to live in hiding. If they’re caught they’ll be put in jail.”

  Henry said by coming into being the whole creation became enslaved forever, from the foundation of the world until now, and he fingered the chain his father had given him.

  “Why did you run away?” Mohammed Ali asked.

  Henry said because he wanted to live in Philadelphia.

  Sy’s sister came into the room. “The police are here.”

  Henry asked why she called the police.

  “I didn’t call them, Henry. They’ve been searching for you for two days.”

  The police took Henry into their car and made him sit in the back seat while one of them talked on the radio and the other one wrote in a book. It was a Ford Crown Victoria. Henry liked Mohammed Ali’s Land Rover much better. In the Land Rover Henry could see out the window. The Ford Crown Victoria had bars on the window and all he could see was the backs of the policemen’s heads. One policeman turned around. “What’s your name, son?”

  Henry said nothing.

  “I asked you a question, son.” The policeman had on a badge that said Shumacher.

  Henry said nothing.

  “Okay, son, let’s get something straight. You’ve caused a lot of trouble. You can make it harder on yourself by not cooperating, or you can cooperate. Understand?”

  Shumacher took Henry into a room at the police station and made him sit down until a woman came in and asked him some questions. She was wearing a badge that said Farley. “You feeling okay, Henry? You hungry?”

  Henry shook his head.

  “Anyone mistreatin’ you? Hurt you in any way?”

  Henry shook his head.

  Farley took some papers out of a drawer and sat down on a bench in the office and asked Henry to sit down next to her. “I’m here to help you, Henry. It’s my job to help children like you. But first you need to tell me why you ran away.”

  Henry said he didn’t run away he fell away.

  “You fell away?”

  Henry said yes.

  “Where did you fall from?”

  Henry said from the light into the darkness.

  Farley wrote down what Henry said on a pad of paper. “How did you fall? Did someone push you?”

  Henry said no but in the creation when the darkness had mixed with the light and had darkened the light, the world became neither dark nor light but only weak.

  Farley said, “Amen to that,” and wrote on her pad. “Was you ever locked in your room?”

  Henry said no.

  “Does the dark frighten you?”

  Henry said no one can see in the dark.

  “Does that frighten you?”

  Henry said not seeing is not knowing.

  “Amen to that too. Where’d you hear that, Henry? You hear that in church?”

  Henry shook his head.

  “How ’bout in school? You hear that in school?”

  Henry shook his head. Then he said if you are born a human being it is the human being who will love you. If you become a spirit it is the spirit which will be joined to you. If you become thought it is thought which will mingle with you. But if you become a horse or ass or bull or dog neither those who belong above nor those who belong within will be able to rest in you and you will have no part in them.

  “Lord a’mighty,” Farley said and looked at Henry for a few minutes. Then she wrote down a few things on her pad. “Now, tell me. You sure no one ever spanked you?”

  Henry said no.

  “Think real hard, Henry. Try to remember as far back as you can. Anyone ever hit you?”

  Henry shook his head.

  Farley wrote down some more. “Where you been hearin’ all this talk, Henry? Church?”

  Henry said from reading.

  “You read a lot, huh?”

  Henry said only when he had books to read. The rest of the time he remembered.

  “I guess you remember a lot, huh?”

  Henry said everything from the beginning.

  Farley put her pen down and smiled. She was chubby and the uniform she was wearing made her look chubbier because it was ironed and stiff. She had a wide face and smooth dark skin and smelled a little like cough medicine. When she breathed the whole upper part of her body lifted up toward her chin. “I have children around your age, Henry. Come home filled with all sorts of ideas—things they maybe heard in school, saw on TV, read in books.” She took both of his hands and held them in hers. She had a ring on her finger that looked too tight. It had a little diamond in it that twinkled under the fluorescent lights. She looked at Henry without saying anything, just looked at him and held his hands tightly. Henry saw that Farley loved her children more than anything else in the whole world and that somehow made him feel sad. Then Shumacher came in and asked her to step outside with him for a minute.

  When they came back into the room, Shumacher sat down behind the desk and took some things out of the drawer.

  “I have to go,” Farley said. “I’ll be back in a little while. Don’t worry. Everything’s going to be all right.”

  When she left the room Shumacher looked up. “How’d you get to the zoo, Henry?”

  Henry said he took a cab.

  Shumacher nodded and looked at Henry for a few minutes without saying anything. “I’ve heard that you’re a real wise guy,” he said. “You can forget that crap with me. Okay? Now, how did you get to the zoo?”

  Henry said he took a taxi.

  “Where’d you get the money?”

  Henry said he took it out of the kitchen drawer at the O’Briens’.

  “How much did you take?”

  Henry said he didn’t know.

  Shumacher asked a lot of other questions but Henry said he didn’t know or he couldn’t remember. Then Schumacher put down his pen and looked across the desk. “You seem pretty sure of yourself for someone who’s in trouble. But maybe you don’t realize just how much trouble you’re in.”

  Henry looked at his shoe, which was untied. He was about to tie it when Shumacher slammed his hand down on the desk. “Look at me!”

  Henry sat straight up. He was scared.

  “Most kids who did what you just did are lucky to ever get back home. You know where most of them end up?”

  Henry shook his head.

  “With their pictures on shopping bags and milk cartons. Is that what you want? To see yourself on a milk carton or a shopping bag?”

  Henry said nothing.

  Then Shumacher shoved a drawer closed and pushed himself away from the desk. “You’re not just a runaway, son. You’re also a juvenile felon. Do you know what a felon is?”

  Henry said nothing and just looked at Shumacher, who was staring at Henry with eyes like glass.

  “A felon is someone who commits a crime punishable by law.”

  Henry said nothing.

  “You think I’m just trying to scare you and send you home, don’t you?”

  Henry said nothing.

  “I’ve got some bad news for you,
kid. You want to take a guess what the bad news is?”

  Henry said nothing but his heart began to pound and his face grew hot and he heard a ringing in his ears and fear spread inside him like a wordless blackness.

  “Go ahead, Henry,” Shumacher said. “Take a guess.”

  Henry shook his head.

  “You remember that gorilla you let out of the cage at the zoo?”

  Henry said nothing.

  “Well, son, that gorilla is now dead thanks to you.” Shumacher stood up behind his desk and looked straight at Henry. “Let that sink in a little,” he said and took some papers from the desk and left the room.

  Henry got up and walked around Shumacher’s office like he was doing the stations of the cross. He thought about the time Sy took him and Helena out for a drive. They drove all over Atlantic City and Sy showed them the sights like it was a tour. They drove by the Hagia Sophia and the Hippodrome and the Absecon Lighthouse and the Forum of Constantine and the Convention Center and all the other important sights. They went to the drive-through at Burger King and drove around some more.

  “Are you happy living alone?” Helena asked Sy.

  “I’m happy just to know that such a thing as happiness exists at all in the emptiness of the universe,” Sy said. “But it’s all a question of scale, and once you begin measuring, how happy can you really be?”

  When they got back to the Palace Sy pulled into the special place for limos at the main entrance. It was getting dark and a strong wind was blowing. You could hear the surf pounding in the distance, and being under the bright lights of the Palace’s main entrance was like being on a great rostrum at the end of the world. Sy jumped up onto the hood of the car and shouted, “CAST INTO THE INFINITE IMMENSITY OF SPACES OF WHICH I AM IGNORANT AND WHICH KNOW ME NOT, I AM FRIGHTENED!” He was wearing his blackjack tuxedo and he adorned the big black car like a living ornament. The wind blew his hair back and his clothes tight against his body. “Ever heard of Pascal?” he asked as he jumped off the car.

  Henry said there was a lady named Pascal who worked at the reception desk.

  “Is there such a thing as sort-of-happy, or happy-in-spite-of?” Sy asked.

  “Sure there is,” Helena said.

  “I don’t think so,” Sy said.

  That was how Henry learned that most things in the world, as long as their inner parts are hidden, stand upright and live.

  Shumacher came back into the room. “Well, son? Have things sunk in a little?”

  Henry said nothing.

  Shumacher sat at the desk and said if they hadn’t maybe he could help Henry along a little. Then he opened up a folder and began to read: “5:30 A.M.: Gorilla keeper begins rounds of primate house according to schedule. 6:15: Keeper finishes morning feeding, returns to office. Notices office door left open. Nothing else unusual. 6:30: Keeper leaves office to go to washroom, discovers gorilla cage door open. Returns to office immediately and calls zoo security to report escaped primate. 6:40: Accident reported on 34th Street. Driver reports seeing large animal crossing road, swerves vehicle to avoid collision, strikes car parked at curb. 6:53: Zoo authority reports escaped primate to city police. Police assist search effort. 7:30: Second accident reported on 34th Street. Police arriving on scene report injured gorilla. Driver reports animal ran in front of vehicle. Zoo officials informed. 7:40: Zoo officials arrive on scene. Gorilla unconscious, bleeding from head and upper torso regions. Zoo veterinarians remove animal from scene of accident. Vehicle sustained heavy damage to front fender and grill. Driver unhurt. 8:30: Zoo officials report animal dead of injuries.”

  Henry watched Shumacher close the folder and push it to the side of the desk. Henry’s heart swelled inside his chest and he felt sorry but he didn’t cry.

  “Do you still think you’re a funny guy?”

  Henry said nothing.

  “C’mon, son. Aren’t you even sorry?”

  Henry looked at the seventeen stations of the cross and said some neither desire to sin nor are able to sin.

  “Oh. I suppose it was all just an accident? You just accidentally snuck into the zoo and accidentally let a gorilla loose?”

  Henry said nothing.

  “Get up,” Shumacher said. He took Henry by the arm and they went down some corridors and through some doors. “I want you to see what happens to wise guys,” he said. Then he took Henry on a tour of the prison. “Take a good look around, son. This is where all troublemakers eventually end up.” They went down a corridor that was filled with cells and Shumacher winked at some policemen as they went past. They went to the end of the corridor and then turned around and walked all the way back. There were prisoners in all the cells. It was noisy and smelled bad. Shumacher stood with his hands on his hips staring at Henry. “Had enough?” he asked.

  Henry said nothing.

  “Let’s go,” Shumacher said. They went back to his office.

  Father Crowley came a little while later. He had to sign some papers so Henry could leave the police station. “You should be ashamed of yourself,” the priest said when they were in the car. “In my opinion, you deserve a good beating.”

  Henry asked where they were going.

  “To straighten out the mess you’ve made,” Father Crowley said.

  Henry said for you descended into a great ignorance but you have not been defiled by anything in it. For you descended into a great mindlessness and your recollection remained. You walked in mud and your garments were not soiled and you have not been buried in their filth and you have not been caught.

  The priest was silent for a few seconds and looked straight ahead and drove. “Where did you learn that?” he asked.

  Henry didn’t answer.

  “I asked you a question, young man.”

  Henry said it was from a gospel.

  “Which gospel?”

  Henry said it was from the First Apocalypse of James.

  The priest looked at Henry for a long time. “Do you realize that by speaking words you don’t understand—by repeating blasphemies—you are sinning? Doing the work of the devil?”

  Henry watched the tall buildings and the parks and the streets of Philadelphia through the side window. They stopped at a red light. “Nobody is free of sin, Henry. Sin is in the world everywhere, even if you aren’t conscious of it. We all live in sin. It is the consequence of the Fall.” They drove a little while longer and then Father Crowley said, “I wish you would read the true gospels. You might not be such a confused little boy.” He was quiet again for a while. “Why do you insist on making it so hard for the people who are trying to help you? The O’Briens have given you a home and you show your thanks by running away? How do you expect to get along in life if you turn away from people? There are people who care all around you. You need to open your eyes.” Then he stopped talking and just drove.

  They went to Sy’s sisters house. Father Crowley said he was glad to finally meet her. “Have you had any contact with the father?” he asked.

  “None whatsoever,” Sy’s sister said. Then she looked at Henry with sad eyes. “What’s going to happen to him, Father?”

  “Frankly, I don’t know. It’s an extremely complicated situation—legally speaking. Never mind the rest.”

  “I’ve talked about it with my husband,” Sy’s sister said. “We’d like him to stay with us.”

  “That’s very kind of you. But I’m afraid it won’t be possible.”

  “Do you have a better place in mind?” Big Henry asked.

  “He’d be well taken care of,” Sy’s sister said.

  “That’s very kind, and I don’t doubt it for a minute,” Father Crowley said. “But there are laws, and Henry’s case is extremely complicated. The state has first to try to locate a parent. Then a court has to order parental rights to be terminated—which is another way of saying he’s been abandoned. Right now Saint Jude’s is the only place Henry can go.”

  “Saint Jude’s?”

  “It’s a Catholic orphanage I’m
involved with.”

  “An orphanage?” Sy’s sister had tears in her eyes.

  “On top of all that, there’s the problem of what happened at the zoo.” They talked for a long time but Henry stopped listening. He asked if he could go upstairs.

  “Of course you can,” Sy’s sister said. “Lie down and take a nap.”

  “That’s a very good idea,” Father Crowley said. “I’ll wake you up when it’s time to leave.”

  Henry went to the room he had spent the summer in. Even with the door closed he could hear the grown-up voices droning downstairs. He lay down on the bed and watched the light make patterns on the ceiling. His angel was quiet because it was late afternoon and that was the time of day for quiet. In Byzantium in the late afternoon everything grew quiet too. Shopkeepers closed their stalls, porters put down their loads, artisans put down their tools, and the ships in the harbor lost their crews. Even the Palace became quiet. People dropped fewer coins into the slot machines; the roulette wheels spun less frequently. These were the hours when most guests arrived and checked into their rooms. They arrived in cars and on buses and even by limousine. If it was summer people came in off the beach.

  He thought of his father and Sy and Helena’s mother. If they were fugitives they were also suffering in a kind of way. Saints were fugitives too. They suffered because no matter where they were they could never forget the truth of their existence—even if they had to live their whole lives underground. It was like Sy said one day when he came to take Henry out for a walk along the beach. He said, “To be alive is to be subjected to the cruelty of facts.” Living underground was a cruel fact.

  He went to the window. It was sunny and cold outside. Father Crowley’s black Chevrolet Malibu was parked at the curb in front of the house. A group of kids walked past it. One of them was carrying a stick and whacked the car on the hood. The kids didn’t run away. They just walked down the street whacking parked cars along the way.

  SAINT JUDE’S

  “It’s a sad day for gorillas in Philadelphia,” a voice on the radio said.