“I had no idea which way to go, so I just drove. The roads kept getting curvier. Delmar was scared out of his mind, crying for his mama. I'm telling him everything's okay—but some idiot left sawhorses in the middle of the road—a ditch, no warning lights. We skidded . . . off the road . . . I yelled for Delmar to jump free, tried to pull him out, but he was too heavy—then my door flipped open and I was thrown out. Delmar . . .”

He licked his lips and breathed with forced deliberation. His finger tapped the trigger.

“Boom. Kaboom,” he said. “Life is so tenuous, isn't it?”

He looked winded, dripping perspiration. The big smile on his face was forced.

“He . . . it took me two hours to walk back to hell. My clothes were torn and I'd twisted my ankle. It was a miracle—I was alive. Meant for something. I managed to crawl into bed . . . my teeth were chattering so loud I was sure everyone would wake up. It took a while till the commotion began. Talking, footsteps, lights going on. Then Hitler came stomping into my room, tore the covers off me, and stared at me—foaming at the mouth. I looked right back at him. This crazy look came into his eyes and he lifted his hands—like he was ready to claw me. I stared right back at him and pulled my pud. And he just let his arms drop. Walked out. Never spoke to me again. I was locked in my room for three days. On the fourth day, Mummy came and picked me up. Go east, young victor.”

“So you won,” I said.

“Oh, yeah,” he said. “I was the conquering hero.” Jab. “My victory bought me more dungeons. More sadists, pills, and needles. That's what your places are about, whether you call them hospitals or jails or schools. Killing the spirit.”

I remembered the flash of anger he'd shown in his office, when we'd talked about Dorsey Hewitt.

He should have been taken care of . . .

Institutionalized?

Taken care of. Not jailed—oh, hell, even jail wouldn't have been bad if that would have meant treatment. But it never does.

“But you got past that,” I said. “You made it through law school, you're helping other people.”

He laughed and the gun retreated an inch or two.

“Don't patronize me, you fuck. Yeah, let's hear it for higher education. You know where I learned my torts and jurisprudence? The library at Rahway State Prison. Filing appeals for myself and the other wretches. That's where I learned the law was written by the oppressors to benefit the oppressors. But like fire, you could learn to use it. Make it work for you.”