been in this hospital four
times, and no doctor ever sat down and explained what was wrong with me,
or tried to learn why. There was something about combat fatigue,
whatever that is, over in Italy. Otherwise, I don't know anything. If I
so much as raise my voice or break a dish at home, my wife has me
shipped back here as dangerously psychotic, or psycho-neurotic, or
something. Which makes it nice for her.

"And what do you do when I come back? You give me electric shock
treatments and have your sadists whip me with P. T. baths, as if torture
could cure a sick mind! Maybe there's nothing wrong with my brain. Maybe
it's just different from yours, or this jerk's, if he has a brain."

"Never mind, Joe," Dr. Bean cautioned in a theatrical aside. "Just stand
by."

Potts smiled and said, "Take it all down. Then you can check your notes
and decide if it's schizophrenia, or catatonia, or psychasthenia, or
what not. I know a little about mental diseases from reading, and I'll
explain my theory the best I can."

* * * * *

Potts tapped his forehead with a forefinger and asked, "What is a brain?
You'll say it's an organ occupying the skull and forming the center of
the nervous system, and the seat of intellect, or some such thing. I
don't think so. It generates electricity. You know that. A nerve impulse
is a wave of electricity started and conducted by a nerve cell. You can
test it. You've made brain-wave patterns of some of the boys in the
ward.

"The brain transforms energy into thought, or thought into energy. I'm
sitting here thinking and not moving my body at all. My brain is
transforming electric energy into thought. You're writing, and your
thoughts guide the movement of your hand. Thought into energy."

Dr. Bean turned a page and continued to scribble rapidly. Potts heard
Joe move and felt the big attendant's presence behind his chair.

Potts said, "The ability to think improves with use, like a muscle
growing stronger with use. The first time you memorize a poem, it's a
hard job. If you keep on memorizing, it becomes easier, until you read a
poem a couple of times and you have it. The same goes for remembering.
I'll bet you can't even remember how your breakfast tasted and smelled
this morning. Probably not even what you ate.

"I practice remembering with all the senses. How things look and taste
and smell. Exact colors, shadows, size, impressions. Think of an
airplane, and you