Shock Corridor Page #6

I was brought up to have pride in my country.

Called it esprit de corps.

It's inside me. I love it.

It's even a blessing to love my country,

even when it gives me ulcers.

And those ulcers will stop...

the day all schools

must get an education...

before being allowed

to open their doors.

Do you know who killed Sloan

with a butcher knife in the kitchen?

I can't blame the students.

They were brought up to hate

the color of my skin.

It's their - their blueprint

for delinquence, the birth of lynchings...

the disease carried to those

yet unborn.

Those poor, sick children...

are taught to depend

on their parents' claws...

instead of their love.

And the irony of it is

that many Negroes are mulatto...

and integration is well established

down south.

Remember Sloan, who was killed

in the kitchen with a butcher knife?

I remember the first day

I went to school.

A woman held up her child

so he could reach out...

and beat me with his little fist.

Sure, I remember Sloan.

What was the name of the doctor

that did it?

It wasn't a doctor.

It was an attendant.

I even had a private teacher

to help me to -

to make sure the university

wouldn't flunk me.

Do you know his name?

Of course. I saw him kill Sloan, didn't I?

Did you know that my house was attacked

by night-riding shotgunners?

- Will you tell me his name?

- Sure.

You know...

if I hadn't quit school...

I'd have gotten very, very sick.

Tell me his name!

Get that n*gger!

He's not going to school

with my daughter.

First the classrooms, then the school dances.

You know what after that.

Trent! Trent!

Go to your own home!

Go to your own school, n*gger!

- Go to your own schools!

- Trent!

- Go to your own black schools, n*gger!

- Trent!

- Go to your own black school!

- Trent! Trent!

- I'm for pure Americanism! White supremacy!

- Trent! Listen to me!

- I'm for pure Americanism! White supremacy!

- Snap out of it! Listen to me!

Get that freedom bus!

Burn that freedom bus!

- Burn those Freedom Riders!

- Shut up!

- Shut up!

- Burn those Freedom Riders!

Trent, shut up! Trent, shut up!

Visiting time over.

That close. I was that close

to getting the killer's real name...

and, boom, he went nuts again.

Right back to the hole.

But there's still Boden.

I'll reach him.

I'll get to him, and this time

I'm not gonna waste one of his sane moments.

I'm gonna ask him right out

all about the murder.

Boom! I'll get the answer.

You realize, Cathy, I'm sitting

right on top of this story.

You all right, Cathy?

Oh, Johnny.

Don't ever do that!

Don't you ever kiss me like that again!

What?

You know what I mean.

No, I don't know what you mean, Johnny.

You tell me.

What do you mean, I should never

kiss you again like that?

- What's the matter? What is it, Johnny?

- I'm sorry, Miss Barrett...

but you're exciting the other patients

by shouting!

- Miss Barrett!

- Johnny, what do you mean? No!

Miss Barrett!

What's the matter with her?

You're wanted on the phone, Cathy.

Mr. Swanson.

Cathy? Didn't you hear me?

Mr. Swanson's on the phone.

- Yes?

- You went to the hospital today, huh?

Dr. Cristo sent for me.

Well, why did he send for you?

Because he wanted my permission...

to give Johnny electric shock treatments.

Have you lost your marbles?

Johnny can't take that kind of punishment.

He'll crack. They'll find out he's a fake.

Oh, I hope they do.

Then it won't be me who will expose him.

He'll expose himself.

Well, you should have refused

the electric shock.

After all, he knows the killer

is an attendant...

and he's bound to find out his identity

from Boden at the rate he's going.

At the rate he's going...

I don't know if he'll know

his own identity.

What are you talking about?

He's beginning to think...

that I'm really his sister.

Cathy!

What's the matter with my voice?

Why can't I talk?

What is it, John?

Why can't I talk?

I'll try again.

Fine.

I'm fine.

Was there anything wrong

a moment ago?

No.

You're not holding anything back

from me, are you, John?

No, sir.

Think another shock treatment

might help?

Not unless you strap me in the chair

and throw the switch yourself all the way.

I've learned my lesson, believe me.

No more race riots in the corridor, huh?

The way I feel now,

a midget could whip me.

All right, John.

You can stretch your legs in the street

during make-friends hour.

I beat 'em all.

They didn't learn a thing.

Hey.

What happened then?

Why did I lose my power of speech?

What happened to my voice?

Witness number three:

Dr. Boden, American physicist,

Nobel Prize winner.

Worked on the atom bomb,

the H-bomb.

The most brilliant scientist alive today.

Went insane working on nuclear fission -

missiles and rockets to the moon.

drawing.

Now has the mentality of a child of six.

- Hello.

- Hello.

You been away?

We played games.

- You want to play with me?

- Mm-hmm.

Good. We'll play hide-and-seek.

- I'd like that.

- All right.

You hide your eyes

and count to 10.

Okay.

One, two, three...

four, five,

six, seven, eight, nine, 10.

Now I wonder

where he could be hiding.

Yes.

Keep it up, John.

Maybe you can help him.

We can't.

- Wonderful.

- All by myself.

- He's coming along just fine, isn't he?

- Oh, yes.

- Good.

- See? I can do it all by myself.

Hi. Guess what.

I got Dr. Boden

making a portrait of me.

It's really a professional job.

He was a wonderful artist

at one time, you know.

Einstein's hobby was the fiddle,

and Boden's hobby was drawing.

Still has the mind of a child,

but his hand -

his hand has the stroke of an adult.

lmagine me, your Johnny...

giving therapeutic treatments

to Dr. Boden.

Oh, you look so much better

than you did the last time.

Well, you tell Swanee, Boden's apt

to snap back to sanity at any moment...

and when that happens -

I'll crack that jigsaw.

What about my perjury?

Dr. Cristo will be delighted.

Don't you see, Cathy?

The killer could score another victim

if he's not exposed.

And the judge will understand

why you lied.

Dr. Boden.

Dr. Boden wanted.

Dr. Boden wanted at the Pentagon.

Dr. Boden wanted at

National Aeronautics and Space Administration.

Dr. Boden wanted at Newfoundland.

Dr. Boden wanted.

Dr. Boden -

Dr. Boden wanted at

National Aeronautics and Space Administration.

Dr. Boden wanted at Newfoundland.

- Dr. Boden wanted at Newfoundland.

...at the Pentagon.

Not again.

Rockets were fired off in Newfoundland

in 1953.

I detected the first hint

of the radiation belt, didn't I?

Let me alone. I'm through.

He's rational!

Hey, not now.

Oh, God, don't let me

lose my voice now!

Hold still, John.

You're moving too much.

You know, John...

we've become too sophisticated

in the art of death.

Please, please, let me ask him.

I've got to ask him!

There's a sense of doom, crises.

I'll - I'll write the question.

No-No, it's liable to snap him

back to childhood.

I-I've got to get my voice back!

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