“I’m sorry?”
“You were born Aaron Everett Hawthorne, weren’t you?” The aw sound was more apparent.
“I was,” Hathorne said without rancor.
He’s well prepared, Joe thought. Because he knows where I’m going.
“And it was you, as a young man, who changed the spelling, isn’t that right?”
“It was me, yes.”
“And there was an allusive purpose to it, wasn’t there?”
“It was a decision I made, as you yourself alluded to, when I was a young man.” Hathorne put a tiny stress on the word “allude.”
That’s right, Joe thought. Play with me. You’ve been prepped not to, but you want to.
“In fact, you made that decision in reference to a historical event, didn’t you?”
“I don’t recall every reason now, to be honest.”
“The Salem Witch Trials of 1692,” Joe said, his eyes narrowing on his subject. “The role of a man named John Hathorne, commonly known as Judge Hathorne.”
“Is there a question?” Hathorne asked with an innocent look.
Snark. Just a touch. Here we go.
“Judge Hathorne’s actions as part of the Salem Witch Trials,” Joe said, looking down through reading glasses at a legal pad. He raised his eyes back to Hathorne. “Is it fair to say that those actions, in history and popular culture, are widely believed to have been sadistic and unjust?”
“They often are, yes.”
“I mean, Judge Hathorne is reviled by many for his brutal interrogation tactics, his cruelty to the accused women, correct?”
“I have read as much, yes.”
“Right. And Judge Hathorne’s actions—his memory—that’s what inspired you to change your name, wasn’t it?”
“As I said, I don’t recall every reason. If you’re implying that I was a rebellious young man, I think the record is clear and that I’ve paid dearly for it.”
“You’re familiar with Nathaniel Hawthorne, correct?”
“Of course.”
“He’s no relation to you, though, right?”
“He is not.”
“But you wanted to make a point, didn’t you, Dr. Hathorne? A statement.”
“I may have.”
“You wanted to make a point of doing the opposite of what Nathaniel Hawthorne is believed to have done, correct?”
“The author Nathaniel Hawthorne published under the original spelling of his name as well. There is speculation as to why he eventually changed the spelling, but no certainty.”
“Sir, that’s why I said, quote, unquote, ‘is believed to have done,’” Joe said. He was staying conciliatory but on the offensive. He slowed his speech. “The statement you wanted to make was based on the common belief, proven or not, that Hawthorne added a ‘w’ to his name out of shame. Isn’t that right?”
“Whatever my reasons were, Mr. DeSantos, I’m sure you’ll paint them in the worst possible light today.”
Slipping from form. He’s getting angry.
“Please answer the question.”
“I don’t remember entirely.” He shifted in the witness chair.
“Nathaniel Hawthorne is believed to have been so ashamed of his ancestor’s actions in the witch trials that he altered the spelling of his name to distance himself from that figure, correct?”
“I am not a teacher of American literature, but it’s a theory, yes.”
“Right, because that was your motivation, wasn’t it? To make a statement about yourself that was opposite of the one Nathaniel Hawthorne made.”
Hathorne’s lead attorney, David Mullen, cut in then. “Your Honor, Mr. Hathorne changed his name when he was around twenty years old.” Impeccably dressed and manicured, Mullen looked to be in his fifties. “What’s the relevance now?”
“It’s a dispositional hearing on the respondent’s mental state,” the judge said. “I’ll allow it. But if there’s a point, Mr. DeSantos, let’s arrive there.”
“Of course, Your Honor.” Joe turned back to his witness. “You viewed yourself as more of a Hathorne than a Hawthorne, didn’t you?”
“At one time, I suppose I did.”
“And this legal change to your name was a gesture you were proud of, wasn’t it?”
“The level to which I felt good about it varied.”
“Well, you wrote about it, didn’t you, in internet chatrooms?”