Marty didn't wake until he felt something cold being pressed against his bottom. He opened his eyes and looked into Henry's face. "What's happening?"
"We're in the hospital, Honey. I told you we were going to look inside you to be sure you weren't hurt in there. Dr. Marshall is going to put the scope I told you about in your bottom. It won't hurt and it will let him see if you're all right in there."
"I want you to do it. You said that you were going to do it."
"Marty, we're lucky. Dr. Marshall is a kind of doctor called a Proctologist.
"What's a practicalist?"
"Proctologist."
"Oh, ya. What's that?"
"It's the kind of doctor that knows about people's bottoms."
"That's a dumb thing to know about."
"Not for you right now, it isn't."
"But I want you to do it."
"Marty, Dr. Marshall knows a lot more about boy's bottoms than I do. He won't hurt you. You'll be fine."
"But I don't know him."
For some reason, Marty's last comment almost had Henry in tears. Marty barely knew Henry but he trusted him. He needed him. Henry hadn't felt needed for five years.
Marty squirmed. "That thing feels funny in there. It's cold."
"I'm about finished. Does your tummy still hurt?" Dexter Marshall pressed lightly on Marty's lower abdomen. Marty started to answer, "No ..." He lifted his head so he could see who was messing with his bottom and belly. "Hey, he's a nigger!"
Dexter looked at Henry and winked. "I sho is and dis nigger need to know do your belly hurt."
Marty looked at Henry. "Can niggers be doctors?"
"Dr. Marshall is an excellent doctor and he's not a nigger. He's a Negro or most people now-a-days say a black man. He needs to know if your tummy hurts."
"Not no more."
"Is nigger a bad word?"
"It's an unkind word."
"Are you mad at me?"
"No, but it would make me happy if you didn't use that word anymore."
"Is he mad at me?"
Dexter removed the scope and slapped Marty lightly of the fanny. "I've been called that by people who knew it was an unkind word. That makes me angry but you didn't know so I'm not angry with you but it would make me very happy too if you remembered what Dr. Schmidt said. Try to remember not to use that word anymore."
"I didn't mean not to be kind. I thought that's what you was. Adonis Jackson is a nig..." Marty looked at Henry. "What did you say they was?"
"Black."
"They ain't black. They're brown."
"Look at your hand. What color are you?"
"I'm white."
"Look at that sheet. What color is it?"
"White - - oh ya, I get it.
"Anyway, Adonis is black and I already heard him and David Marshall call each other nigger."
"Now that's just bad manners but black people do call each other that sometimes and I'll have to have a long talk with David when I get home."
"Are you David's dad?"
"Yes I am."
"Don't tell him I told on him, OK?"
"I won't tell him but I better not hear of him using that word anymore."
Dexter looked at Henry. "I didn't see anything but I took some pictures. I'll study them in the morning but I think he's fine."
A nurse came in and put a hospital gown on Marty. "I ain't no girl. I don't want to wear this dress and it ain't got no back in it anyway."
Henry stroked the boy's forehead. "That's called a hospital gown, Honey. It doesn't have a back in case someone has to look at your bottom again."
"Oh, ya."
As the nurse pushed Marty out of the operating room she said to Henry, "Dr. Schmidt, Detective Dissler is waiting for you in the hall. He needs to know what happened."
As Marty was pushed by him, Jerry Dissler said, "Hey, Marty. What happened to you?"
"Kiki had some druggy who would buy her a hit if she could find him a boy bottom to fuck. Ain't you 'sposed to keep her away from me?"
"I try, Marty. There just isn't enough of me to go around."
"Well, try harder. It really hurt."
"Yes sir."
Jerry pulled Henry aside. "Spunky little rascal, isn't he?"
"I don't really know. He was hiding in the bushes in my backyard. From what he said, he must come there often."
"He probably did. He told me once that he really didn't live on Dort Street. He said he lived in a big house in the country. He's quite a boy. I really like him but I just can't seem to get anything done for him."
Jerry told Henry what he knew of Marty's life.
"Why the hell is he still in that mess. Why isn't he in foster care?"
"Do you know Kate Burtch?"
"Not well. The Magistrate takes care of most Family Court cases."
"Well, she's a bitch. In fact the kids at the group home call her Ms. Bitch. Every time the school calls I pick Marty up but as soon as Kate gets involved, she sends him back home - if you can call it that."
"Have you talked to Merv Gross?"
"I've begged Mervin Gross. He's the biggest damn pussy I've ever had to deal with. He's both lazy and scared of Kate Burtch."
"I'll have the magistrate get his file and see what I can do."
"I'll bet you a month's wages that file won't do you any good. There's probably more shit in that boy's file than in your barn. She'll be here as soon as she hears about this and the boy will be right back on Dort Street."
"I don't think so. I'll admit him and he will not be released until I say so. In the mean time, I think I have enough clout to keep him off of Dort Street."
"I guess you do. I should have come to you before. The poor kid's been through enough. Nothing like this before but I'm amazed that he's not delinquent or crazy with all he's had to put up with. He must be a really strong little kid. He's so likable. He's not mean or as near as I can tell, even angry but he's sure a feisty little shit."
Henry had gone to Marty's room to say goodbye. Marty put up a fuss. He wanted Henry to stay but he reluctantly accepted Henry's promise to come back to see him tomorrow. As he was leaving he met Dexter in the parking lot. "Thanks for your help. What are you doing here this time of night?"
"Interesting domestic case. Gal got sick at work and left early. When she got home she saw her sister's car in the drive. Suspecting what was going on, she took a broom with her to the bedroom. She was right. Her husband was screwing her sister. She rammed the broomstick up his ass and tore him up pretty good. Had to do a temp colostomy but I'll be able to reconnect the plumbing after he heals a little inside."
It was 6:30 before Henry got to bed. Thank God it was Saturday. It was one o'clock when the phone woke him.
"Hank?"
"Yes"
"Dex. I looked at the pictures. The boy's fine. His anus looks good this morning. I'm ready to let him go but someone needs to continue to apply antibiotic ointment."
"He's not going anywhere for the time being. The nurses will see to the ointment. Jerry Dissler tells me that he lives in a very bad situation and I want to keep him there until we can get that mess straightened out."
"Good. He's a neat little kid. Jerry Dissler was telling me a little about him. He's asking for you. He seems to think he owns you and from what Jerry says, he needs a little love."
"Don't tell me you're worried about more than his behind."
"Well, don't tell anyone. I've worked hard on this curmudgeon reputation"
"You're not a curmudgeon. You're a pussycat and everyone knows it.
Henry started a pot of coffee and showered. He was about half way to the hospital before it occurred to him that he was whistling. My God, he hadn't whistled for years. He was actually happy. He wasn't depressed. What the hell happened?
As he walked past the nurses' station the head nurse said, "Don't stay too long. Marty's busy running the floor."
The greeting was typical Marty. "How come you wasn't here before. I wanted you to be by me."
"Sorry, Honey. I needed some sleep."
"You could sleep in that chair."
"You tell me. If you had a choice between a bed and a chair, where would you sleep?"
"Oh ya, I'd pick the bed."
"How do you feel, Little Buddy?"
"Good but I can't have no hot dogs to eat. I just got to have liquid. David's dad said I had to. He's nice but them nurses ain't doin' what he said. I can't have no hot dog but them nurses give me ice cream. David's dad said liquid is like water. Ice cream ain't like water."
"What happens if you don't eat your ice cream right away?"
"I don't know. If I ever get ice cream I eat it fast. I like it a lot but I don't get none much."
"Well, I guess you would eat it right away. What happens when you put it in your mouth?"
"Oh ya, it melts and gets like liquid."
Henry's intent to just drop in was not at all in Marty's plans. In fact, Henry found himself so taken by the boy that four hours had passed before he thought to look at his watch. The conversation covered a multitude of subjects from how come he had to pee in that bottle to how much he loved all them cows. When he found out that the cows belonged to Henry he decided that since he pretended that he lived with Henry he could now really pretend that the cows were his too.
When told that he had to pee in that bottle so it could be tested to see if he was all right he pronounced hospitals dumb places. They look up your bottom and test your pee. He did wonder, however, if his pee got an A on the test.
At one point in the course of the conversation, Marty asked Henry to come close so he could whisper in his ear. Henry did and was very confidentially asked if he was respectable. Henry answered that he tried to be. Why did Marty ask?
Still in a whisper Marty answered, "Some lady come to our school. She said that if anyone does bad touch on you, you should tell someone respectable."
"Could she have said, "responsible?"
"Oh ya, that."
"Did someone do bad touch on you?"
"Ya, that nurse, Lucy."
"What did she do?"
"She was giving me a bath this morning and she said, "Oh my, your Venus is informed."
"Could she have said, 'Your penis is inflamed'?"
"Oh ya, that. Anyway, she pulled my skin down and said I had information under there. She keeps comin' in and pulling my skin down and puttin' stuff on it. She ain't 'sposed to do that, is she?"
"Did she say inflammation?"
"Oh ya, that."
"Marty, the real name of what you call your thing is penis. Did your penis hurt before the nurse put ointment on it?"
"Ya."
"Does it hurt now?"
"Not as much."
"She's making it better. She needs to touch your penis to make it better."
"So, sometimes people can touch your Venus."
"Penis."
"Oh ya, that. ...and it ain't bad touch. How can you tell the difference?'
"That's a good question. If it's a doctor or nurse or if you hurt there and a teacher or someone in school is helping you, it's probably not bad touch. You have to decide if they are helping you by touching you."
"But I didn't know the nurse was helping me and I thought she was doing bad touch. How do I know if they are helping me?"
Henry wasn't sure how to answer. He wondered how many other children who had had the good touch - bad touch lecture were as confused as Marty. Probably most. How many people had been falsely accused because of some child's innocent confusion?
"You're a smart boy, Marty. Now that you know that sometimes touching your penis is good touch, you have to decide if you need them to do what they are doing. Usually, if you are not hurt down there, no one beside you should touch it. Does that help?"
"I guess. How did that information get in there?"
"Inflammation."
"Oh ya, that."
"You're a big boy now. You have to pull the skin back and wash under there every time you take a bath. That will keep it from becoming inflamed again."
"Good. Information hurts."
"Inflammation."
"Oh ya, that."