Henry of Atlantic City Read Online Free PDF Page A

gospels. Period.” He put his hand on Henry’s knee and smiled. “Henry, you’re a remarkable boy. I’ve never met anyone like you. But you’d better watch out that your gifts don’t get you in trouble. God loves those who love the truth.”
    Henry wondered what difference it made to God or Father Crowley or anyone what books he read and what books existed. He wondered if any of the books of the Bible had ever been found in caves.
    When they arrived back at the O’Briens’, Mrs. O’Brien was standing at the front door. She came out to the car. She had curlers in her hair and walked like a big red duck. “Come in. Come in.”
    “I’d love to, Mrs. O’Brien, but I can’t today. We had a good time together, didn’t we, Henry?”
    Henry nodded.
    “If you don’t mind, I’d like to come again next Saturday. Would that be okay with you?”
    Mrs. O’Brien leaned into the driver’s window. “He’s not in trouble, is he, Father?”
    “No. Not at all. He’s a remarkable little boy. It’s just—well, I can’t describe it. His head is filled with ideas he’s too young to understand.”
    “Don’t I know it,” Mrs. O’Brien said and waved goodbye.
    When they were inside she yelled at Henry for being a troublemaker and whacked him on the back of the head and said she was going to call his father.
    On Monday Henry had to go to the principal’s office again. “Have you been behaving yourself, young man?” Sister Agnes Mary asked him.
    Henry didn’t say anything. He was scared of Sister Agnes Mary.
    “I spoke with Mrs. O’Brien this morning,” she said. “She tells me that you are still telling lies and stories.”
    Henry said Mrs. O’Brien was a liar.
    Sister Agnes Mary grabbed him by the wrists. “If you ever speak like that again, you will be punished, young man. Do you understand me?” She gritted her teeth and Henry saw the spit fly from her lips. It reminded him of the old man in the alley. When she let go his wrists were red and sore. Henry cried and wished his father would come and take him back to the Palace. Gnostics didn’t belong in Catholic school. In the Gospel of Phillip it said that they who inherited dead things are dead themselves. Words are dead things because they are all true. It was the same with stories. They were all true and that was why he liked to tell them. If everything is true one thing is no more true than another and all words will dissolve into their origins.
    Henry decided to run away. He told Sister Agnes Mary he had to go to the bathroom. There was a window thereand he opened the window and climbed out. When he was outside he ran to the bus stop. He had enough lunch money to buy a ticket and he got on the first bus that came. When he got on he sat in the last seat and tried to make himself as small as he could so nobody would see him. He remembered what he had read about running away. It was scary. He was alone on the open road. There were bad people on the highways—Tartars, Bulgarians, Goths, Huns, Cappadocians. People from all the corners of the empire. He didn’t know where to go or what to do when he got there.
    After a while he got off the bus and looked around. He was on a wide road—probably in Phrygia someplace. There was a 7–11 and a McDonald’s. Their signs stood high up on narrow metal columns. Henry was glad to see them because they were familiar and there was comfort in signs that were firmly established. He hid in a dumpster behind 7–11 where it was neither dark nor light but only dim and where he hoped the archons would not get him. Archons are bad angels and there are lots of them. Athoth has a sheep’s face, Eloaiou has a donkey’s face, Astaphaios has a hyena’s face, Yao has a serpent’s face with seven heads, Sabaoth has a dragon’s face, Adonin has a monkey’s face, and Sabbede has a shining fire face. Henry got scared. Maybe he would have to wait for a long time before anybody found him. He would be like those scrolls that were