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Contents
P ART O NE :
P ART T WO :
This book is dedicated to all the men and women
who have courageously struggled against determined,
sometimes brutal, efforts to keep them
from being who they are.
Authors Note
MUCH OF THE information in this book is based on copies of records kept originally by Harvards Secret Court in which student names have been redacted by the office of the Dean of Harvard College. The copied documents can be found in the Records of the Dean of Harvard College, Disciplinary Records 18911923, Redacted Copies (call number UA III 5.33, Box 668). Through the research of The Harvard Crimson and by other means, the actual names have been determined and used in this book. It is important to emphasize, however, that in the letters and Court notes generously provided by the Harvard Archives, the actual names do not appear.
An additional point: With the dialogue in chapters 3 and 7, some liberties have been taken. In all important aspects, however, the information in these scenes is based on known facts.
Prologue
A Dark Place
THE FIRST MOMENTS on wakening were the good ones. Unsure of where he was, even who he was, he luxuriated in the sweet potential of an unfolding day. Then as the stark, drab room came into focus, reality settled on him like a massive weight descending gently, implacably onto his chest, where it would lock in place until he returned to sleep that evening: he was in a hospital and could not leave.
In those first moments of awakening, he could often recall his dreams, but only for a minute or two. Then they too would evaporate, along with the feeling of optimism and freedom. He dreamed of those people who had wronged him and were made to regret itthe Portuguese workers he had caught stealing at the mill, the black kids in Montclair who had tried to extort money from him, his insurance agent who called himself a friend yet tried to defraud him of his due. He had given them all a good thrashing. And then there were his true enemies, the two closest to him, his wife and mother, two wicked women who had been sent to punish him. He had no idea why. He had taught them both a few lessons, but they had won out in the end. They had defeated him and he was here. But he did not dream about them.
If he was born in 1891, hed only be fifty-six now, but around the hospital he was known as the Old Man. Just one more injustice he had to live with. He knew he didnt look good. He refused to exercise, even to work in the greenhouses, and theyd pulled all his teeth, in some harebrained scheme they thought would cure his illness. That sort of thing makes a man look older. With his thinning hair turned gray, his paunch, his flabby arms, and his collapsed mouth, it was no wonder they saw him as old.
He had refused their offer of dentures. Let the world see what they had done to cure a sane man of mental illness. He knew that a lot of the other patients, most of them, if truth were told, felt they didnt belong here. He knew that. But not only did he know he was as sane as the guy who decided these things, Dr. Eisensteinprobably saner, from the way that Bavarian charlatan played chesshe knew why he had been put there. His family wanted to be rid of himespecially Lucy, whom he never should have married. The children were too young for such plotting, but Lucy, she had been born scheming. Too grand to move to North Carolina, too grand to have a business meeting in someones kitchen, too grand to have a husband out of work.
How had they come to hate each other like two Siamese fighting fish? No one could make him as angry as she could, drive him into such a fury. Of course he had thrown hot water on her. They said it was boiling. True, it was in a pot on the stove. It was very hot, but probably not boiling. Well, boiling water purifies. Thats what she needed. Evil woman. Evil, selfish, cruel woman.
If the others called him the Old Man, it was only behind his back. Hed heard them often enough. To his face they all called him Misterinmates and staff. He was the only patient who got a Mister tacked to his name. They respected the fact that he was smarter than all of them, had attended Harvard, spoke four languages, was a chess master, and was working on the second volume of a landmark book on paleontology and evolutionary theory. If that wasnt worth a Mister, what was?
As a foretaste of hell, the place wasnt so bad. He had his own roomone of the few who didand he was allowed his books. He also had a second chair for visitors. Sometimes he would permit another patient to come in for a chat. No one else had the privilege of having a visitor in his room. He never had visitors from the outside. Lucy had tried to come see him, drove right up to the building a few times, but he had refused to see her, of course. Well, there was that one time she had gotten in. He had fixed her, all right. Turned his chair around and sat with his back to her until she left.
What did she want? To give him a box of cookies and apologize for destroying his life? For locking him up in this mausoleum for his remaining days? Hed been here for seventeen years. Shed see to it they never let him out. According to actuarial tables, he had a good twenty more years to go.
At least he had managed to use his brains to get out of doing chores. It wasnt like earning a million dollars or winning the Nobel Prize, but it was a sizable achievement in a place where everyone had to do chores. By writing letters for patients, advising them, doing small favors, he could always get others to take over his work schedule. He never had to sweep floors or work in the kitchen. For the most part, the Taunton hospital was well run and clean. Others talked about a smellnot human or animal or medicinal, more of a musty smellbut hed never noticed it.
He looked out the window. Ornate Victorian flourishes on the eaves, some wrought-iron filigreemore architectural detail than youd expect to see on a public building that was used to house the discarded. But gloomy, dark, and oppressive. A high-security temple to the fantasy that humans can be protected from other humans. The world was full of scoundrels and villains. Humans were just a subspecies of primates. Their superior intellects may have produced wonders but also enabled ever more ingenious ways to vent their irrelevant and destructive hostilities. How absurd to think society could lock up a token handful and make the world safe. And he was on their side, the side of decency and morality. They should thank God a few like him would stand up to the vicious and depraved, the morally bankrupt, the real scoundrelswould show these villains they had tried their evil tricks on the wrong person. For this, he was locked up.
He felt sleepy. It was time for Dennis to show up. Dennis always checked in to make sure he was all right, not up to any mischief. More of a jailor than a nurse. They should know by now that hed give them no troubleunless they tried to put him in the showers. They knew damn well he hated showers, refused to take them and would fight anyone who tried to force him. Dennis had to lose a tooth to learn this. Hit it square with his belt buckle. Youd think theyd get tired of the violence they provoked. What did they want to prove? A tub bath was the only civilized way for a gentleman to clean himself. Showers were for livestockor inmates of an institution.
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