Part 10 (1/2)
”Yeah, I understand.” Peter looked at Chaplain Hardwicke who refused to meet the boy's gaze.
”What's this about school?” Thurlow asked.
”The boy hasn't finished high school,” Whelye said. He faced Peter. ”Wouldn't you like to go back and finish high school?”
”Yeah.”
”Do you like to go to school?” Whelye asked.
”Yeah.”
”Wouldn't you like to finish your education and get a job where you could pay your own way and save money and get married?”
”Yeah.”
Whelye glanced triumphantly at Thurlow. ”Anybody got any questions?”
Thurlow had slowly been building up in his mind the a.n.a.logy of a stud poker game. Peter was in the position of a player who didn't believe anything happening here, nor did he disbelieve anything. He was waiting to see the rest of the cards.
”Isn't it true, Peter,” Thurlow asked, ”that you'd rather be hungry than on a full stomach?”
”Yeah.” The boy had turned his attention to Whelye now.
”Isn't it true, Peter,” Thurlow asked, ”that you'd rather eat a dry crust of bread than have a nice juicy piece of meat on your dinner plate?”
”Yeah.”
”That's all,” Thurlow said.
At Mrs. Norman's signal, the attendant took Peter once more from the room.
”I think when we get to the next patient,” Thurlow said, ”we should swear him in like they do in court.”
Whelye remained silent for a moment. He shuffled his papers, then: ”I don't see what you're driving at.”
”You reminded me of a district attorney of my acquaintance,” Thurlow said.
”Oh?” Whelye's eyes glazed with anger.
”By the way,” Thurlow said, ”do you believe in flying saucers?”
The heads of both Mrs. Norman and Chaplain Hardwicke snapped up. They stared at Thurlow. Whelye, however, drew back, his eyes veiled, watchful.
”What is the meaning of that question?” Whelye demanded.
”I'd like to know your position,” Thurlow said.
”On flying saucers?” There was a cautious disbelief in Whelye's tone.
”Yes.”