"Case?" He frowned fiercely. "I am no case, Weels. I am Zorchi, if you
please."
"Of course, of course. I only mean to say that--"
"That I am a statistic, eh?" He bobbed his head. "Surely. I comprehend.
But I am not a statistic, you see. Or, at best, I am a statistic which
will not fit into your electronic machines, am I not?"
I admitted, "As I say, you are a rather unusual ca--a rather unusual
person, Mr. Zorchi."
He grinned coldly. "Good. We are agreed. Now that we have come to that
understanding, are we finished with this interview?"
I coughed. "Mr. Zorchi, I'll be frank with you." He snorted, but I went
on, "According to your records, this claim need not be paid. You see,
you already have been paid for total disability, both a lump sum and a
continuing settlement. There is no possibility of two claims for the
loss of your legs, you must realize."
He looked at me with a touch of amusement. "I must?" he asked. "It
is odd. I have discussed this, you understand, with many attorneys.
The premiums were paid, were they not? The language of the policy
is clear, is it not? My legs--would you like to observe the stumps
yourself?"
* * * * *
He flung the silken covers off. I averted my eyes from the
white-bandaged lower half of his torso, hairy and scrawny and horribly
_less_ than a man's legs should be.
I said desperately, "Perhaps I spoke too freely. I do not mean, Mr.
Zorchi, that we will not pay your claim. The Company _always_ lives up
to the letter of its contracts."
He covered himself casually. "Very well. Give the check to my
secretary, please. Are you concluded?"
"Not quite." I swallowed. I plunged right in. "Mr. Zorchi, what the
hell are you up to? How do you do it? There isn't any fraud, I admit
it. You really lost your legs--more than once. You grew new ones. But
how? Don't you realize how important this is? If you can do it, why not
others? If you are in some way pecu--that is, if the structure of your
body is in some way different from that of others, won't you help us
find out how so that we can learn from it? It isn't necessary for you
to live as you do, you know."
He was looking at me with a hint of interest in his close-set, dull
eyes. I continued, "Even if you can grow new legs, do you _enjoy_ the
pain of having them cut off? Have you ever stopped to think that some
day, perhaps, you will miscalculate, and the wheels of the train, or
the truck, or whatever you use, may miss your legs and kill you?
That's no way for a man to live, Mr. Zorchi. Why not talk freely to me,
let me help you? Why not take the Company into your confidence, instead
of living by fraud and deceit and--"
I had gone too far. Livid, he snarled, "Ass! That will cost your
Company, I promise. Is it fraud for me to suffer like this? Do I enjoy
it, do you think? Look, ass!" He flung the covers aside again, ripped
at the white bandages with his hands--Blood spurted. He uncovered the
raw stumps and jerked them at me.
I do not believe any sight of my life shocked me as much as that; it
was worse than the Caserta hemp fields, worse than the terrible _gone_
moment when Marianna died, worse than anything I could imagine.
He raved, "See this fraud, look at it closely! Truly, I grow new legs,
but does that make it easier to lose the old? It is the pain of being
born, Weels, a pain you will never know! I grow legs, I grow arms, I
grow eyes. I will never die! I will live on like a reptile or a fish."
His eyes were staring. Ignoring the blood spurting from his stumps,
ignoring my attempts to say something, he pounded his abdomen. "Twelve
times I have been cut--do you see even a scar? My appendix, it is bad;
it traps filth, and the filth makes me sick. And I have it cut out--and
it grows again; and I have it cut out again, and it grows back. And the
pain, Weels, the pain never stops!" He flung the robe open, slapped his
narrow, hairy chest.
I gasped. Under the scraggly hair was a rubble of boils and wens,
breaking and matting the hair as he struck himself in frenzy. "Envy me,
Weels!" he shouted. "Envy the man whose body defends itself against
everything! I will live forever, I promise it, and I will always be in
pain, and someone will pay for every horrible moment of it! Now get
out, get out!"
I left under the hating eyes of the sharp-faced secretary who silently
led me to the door.
* * * * *
I had put Zorchi through a tantrum and subjected myself to as
disagreeable a time as I'd ever had. And I hadn't accomplished a thing.
I knew that well enough. And if I hadn't known it by myself, I would
have found out.
Gogarty pointed it out to me, in detail. "You're a big disappointment
to me," he moaned sourly. "Ah, the hell with it. What were you trying
to accomplish, anyway?"
I said defensively, "I thought I might appeal to his altruism. After
all, you didn't give me very explicit instructions."
"I didn't tell you to remember to wipe your nose either," he said
bitterly. He shook his head, the anger disappearing. "Well," he said
disconsolately, "I don't suppose we're any worse off than we were.
I guess I'd better try this myself." He must have caught a hopeful
anticipatory gleam in my eye, because he said quickly, "Not right now,
Wills. You've made that impossible. I'll just have to wait until he
cools off."
I said nothing; just stood there waiting for him to let me go. I was
sorry things hadn't worked out but, after all, he had very little to
complain about. Besides, I wanted to get back to my desk and the folder
about Rena dell'Angela. It wasn't so much that I was interested in her
as a person, I reminded myself. I was just curious....
Once again, I had to stay curious for a while. Gogarty had other plans
for me. Before I knew what was happening, I was on my way out of the
office again, this time to visit another Neapolitan hospital, where
some of the severely injured in the recent war were waiting final
settlement of their claims. It was a hurry-up matter, which had been
postponed too many times already; some of the injured urgently required
major medical treatment, and the hospital was howling for approval of
their claims before they'd begin treatment.
This one was far from a marble palace. It had the appearance of a
stucco tenement, and all of the patients were in wards. I was a little
surprised to see expediters guarding the entrance.