TOO CLOSE TO A PATIENT, A PSYCHIATRIST'S JUDGMENT IS IMPAIRED.
The playing space is a modest one. The scenes take place in the main character’s office or in her living room. Office: Positioned at center stage a desk and behind the desk, a chair. In front, stage left, a leather wing chair and across, stage right, an oak rocker. On the desk a few books, a phone, and many folders. Living room: Sofa center stage. In front of sofa a coffee table. End tables and lamps positioned alongside sofa. A recliner is positioned down from sofa stage left. Players: Dressed in contemporary style. Cowen wears three- piece suits. Pietila is the conservative professional woman. Sue is modestly dressed. Kathy is plainly dressed. Dan and Mark wear t-shirts and jeans.
Characters (in order of appearance)
Doctor Cindy Pietila
Sue Flinn
Doctor Clifford Cowen
Daniel Pietila
Kathy (Cowen’s girlfriend)
Mark Williams
ACT 1
SCENE 1
The lights come up to find Doctor Cindy Pietila seated at her desk. Pietila is a psychiatrist. Sue Flinn comes into Cindy’s office carrying some folders. She approaches the desk and places the folders in front of Cindy. There are some fresh flowers on the desk. Sue reaches over and rearranges them, and Cindy looks up and smiles.
Sue. These are a little unusual. Doctor Cowen sent them?
Cindy. (Nods). Yes, they’re called Scarlet Sage. He has a meaning behind them, but I can’t figure out the message.
Sue. (Shaking her head). That’s Doctor Cowen’s way, isn’t it? (Doesn’t wait for a response). You’ve got a full caseload today—Mrs. Martin at eight—and guess who’s waiting to see you?
Cindy. (Flatly). Doctor Cowen.
Sue. He told me to tell you he can’t wait. Says it’s very important.
Cindy. (Sighs). I thought he was doing better but…(Shrugs). The flowers should’ve been a warning.
Sue. (Puzzled). I don’t understand. I thought he was just being sweet and mysterious.
Cindy. He always sends me flowers when he’s preoccupied with himself. I should’ve never taken him on as a patient.
Sue. Why did you? It never seemed normal to me—I mean, with you and Doctor Cowen being associates. (Frowns). You’ve known him since college.
Cindy. (Sadly). We do a lot of things we later come to regret, Sue. He wouldn’t or couldn’t trust anyone else.
Sue. I thought once you went through psychoanalysis that was the end of it.
Cindy. (Laughs). Not in Cowen’s case. He managed to fake his way through. He takes a lot of pride in that.
Sue. Well, he’s demanding to see you, and it will cause your other patients to wait.
Cindy. (Stands). That’s okay. I’ll not be too long with Doctor Cowen. (Smiles). You can send him in. (Hands Sue some papers). Relax, he’s not a monster.
Sue. (Taking papers). You give the guy too much credit. (She exits, and Cowen walks in).
Cliff. (Smiling as he greets Cindy). Psychiatry is an interesting field. (Sits in chair at right of desk). Don’t you agree?
Cindy. (Sits). Hello, Cliff. (Dryly). I can see it’s game time—again. Do you want to talk professionally or as friends?
Cliff. (Without hesitation). As friends. Do you think I’ve changed, Cindy?
Cindy. I don’t want to answer that. I’ve never put words in your mouth before, and I’m not going to start now. You can tell me how you’ve changed—if you want to.
Cliff. (Mockingly). Maybe you don’t know me anymore. Maybe you’ve never really known me.
Cindy. (Annoyed). I’ve got patients to see, so if you want to play word games then catch me another time.
Cliff. Is that all you can say?
Cindy. Do you really want to talk, Cliff?
Cliff. (Flatly). When you put it that way, the answer is no.
Cindy. None of your usual stories about how others have forced you to become aggressive? (Pushing him). How about telling me how tired you are of all the pathetic patients you’re treating?
Cliff. (Leaning forward, serious). No—you can’t bait me, Cindy. Listen carefully. (Rubs face). If I did tell you what was really going on in my head, I doubt that you could handle it.
Cindy. (Pride showing). I’ve done damned well so far.
Cliff. (Desire to open up is gone). Yeah, I guess so. (Sits back). I’m not myself today.
Cindy. So what’s bothering you?
Cliff. (Nervously). All the old fears are back, and I’m even upset with my connections.
Cindy. That’s understandable. I’ve seen the people you deal with.
Cliff. (Smugly). I like using them. (Stands, paces up and down). I’ll use even more before I’m through.
Cindy. (Watchful, face showing no emotion). That’s not a very healthy way to think. You can do anything you wish, with or without your sycophants.
Cliff. (Stops pacing and looks at Cindy). I’ve realized my potential, but the knowledge doesn’t comfort me. So I’m better than most (Shrugs)— big deal.
Cindy. You should find comfort in your work. All that you’ve written has been applauded and applied in many different therapies. Your book on Urban Man is still selling well.
Cliff. (Returns to chair). I hate all this pretense. I’ve been there and seen the ugliness in life.
Cindy. (Crisply). All types of people have seen the ugliness—except those who are creating it.
Cliff. (Anger shows). I’m not interested in others! They’re the abnormal types. I want to concentrate on me and my problems. I’m the educated psychiatrist—remember? (Smiles). I can dispense medication and put the feeble away from the eyes of society.
Cindy. (Firmly). Your lack of compassion is troubling. Did you ever think about giving up your practice?
Cliff. Yeah, I’ve thought about selling out to you, but that would make things too easy for the both of us. I’m the cross you have to carry through these hallowed halls. I’m the little voice that whispers in your ear—that tells you we all pay a price for our vanity.
Cindy. If your work didn’t mean something (She pauses a moment as if selecting her words carefully), if it didn’t give you some reward, you would’ve left long before now. As for this cross I’m supposed to carry, that’s your assumption, not mine. Why don’t you take a good look at yourself and try to resolve this inner conflict with total honesty?
Cliff. (Slams fist into palm). I want answers from you!
Cindy. You can find the answers to your own questions. I only know you as well as you allow me to.
Cliff. (Smiles and ignores last comment). I need something more in my life.
Cindy. We all look for something more—we’re always searching.
Cliff. (Places hands in lap). Do you realize we’re just nameless people, part of a dying society?
Cindy. We’re alive, Cliff, and that counts for something.
Cliff. (Insistent). Take a minute and do some actual thinking for a change! I wonder if you ever think about what (Waves hands around) all this means.
Cindy. Of course, I think about life—everyone does.
Cliff. You don’t think about it in a serious way.
Cindy. (Flatly). You could spend your whole life worrying about your own death. What good does it do? I try to make the most of my talents. I don’t want to waste the time I have playing little games.
Cliff. (Relaxing). Well, I know life is more than this. People are souls wandering around creating special complexes.
Cindy. (Impatience showing). Listen, Cliff, going around in a blind, self-hate existence serves no one. I’ve tried all the worrying and fear I care to. You can’t run away from life by burying your head in the sand. There’s more to gain by working towards your goals.
Cliff. But you’ve never been the target of abuse!
Cindy. (Anger showing). Abuse, hell! I’m no beauty, and I also have the disadvantage of being a female doctor. Med school wasn’t a piece of cake. I know how you feel, but it’s time to deal with these feelings, toss them aside, and grow from the pain.
Cliff. I’m tired of trying, and I’m sick of people thinking I’m so fantastic. If you only knew the real me (Mumbles)–if you only knew.
Cindy. (Glancing at her watch). So stay out of the public eye for a while. Take time off and relax—take a vacation with Kathy.
Cliff. (Starts to pace again). She’s another headache. She wants more than I care to give. Nothing can happen that will change the way I feel about her. (Stops pacing and thumps his chest). You’ll never know what’s really in here.
Cindy. (Unmoved). Wasn’t that your idea all along? Keep me out, and you win?
Cliff. (Shrugs). I don’t want to discuss it any further.
Cindy. Cliff, I do have patients to see and so do you.
Cliff. (Stands in front of desk and carefully moves the flowers to center of desk). Flowers can tell a lot about the giver. Don’t you agree? (Doesn’t wait for an answer). I’ve never told the truth—my secret.
Cindy. (Puzzled). No, you haven’t. But if you want to you can.
Cliff. (Showing some emotion). God, what a joke all of this is!
Cindy. Cliff, have I done something to upset you?
Cliff. (Flatly). Yes, you have.
Cindy. How?
Cliff. You never thank me for the flowers. I always make sure you have fresh flowers on your desk, but you don’t seem to care. I try to take care of you.
Cindy. (Sighs). Cliff, you know I appreciate the thought.
Cliff. Maybe so…….I don’t want to think about it (Shakes head as if that will clear his mind).
Cindy. (Softly). What’s really bothering you today?
Cliff. (Smiling). Ugliness. It’s everywhere. Look around and you’ll see what I mean. There’s no escaping it.
Cindy. Do you feel up to handling your patients today?
Cliff. (Slumps into chair). I feel lousy, but the doctor is always alert.
Cindy. (Thoughtfully). Coming from you, I’d say that’s an honest answer.
Cliff. It’s how I feel. No sudden changes overnight.
Cindy. You have to make yourself change. Grow with others, Cliff. Bury your ego for a while.
Cliff. (Annoyed). What kind of suggestion is that? Trying to make me angry, doc?
Cindy. (Flatly). No.
Cliff. (Smirks). Why do you bother to play these games with me?
Cindy. Because it’s an effort in trying to understand you.
Cliff. Understanding that I’m the perfect man (Winks at her)—that I make no mistakes (Watches for a reaction)? What, no look of shock? (Looks sullen). Let me see (Rubs chin thoughtfully); what kind of human being am I? (Stands and paces, taking time to run his fingers through his hair, and pulls imaginary lint off his shirt cuffs. He walks to front of stage, pauses, then goes back over to Cindy, smiling. Cindy shows no emotion and waits for him to continue. After a moment, he returns to chair).
Cindy. (Breaks silence). Are you going to tell me who you think you are?
Cliff. (Shows disappointment). Just like a woman—can’t stand it when a man’s quiet—thoughtful. Don’t you have a clue by now? Some female intuition at work?
Cindy. I don’t think you want me to know the man behind the mask. There wouldn’t be any games left to play if I understood the true Clifford Cowen.
Cliff. (With conviction). I’m one of the best psychiatrists around—that money can buy. You should consider yourself special that I even trust you, Doctor Pietila!
Cindy. (Gives no reaction, which quickly deflates Cowen). I’m sure you feel that way. Anything else?
Cliff. (Dejected). Yes.
Cindy. Try to relax and tell me.
Cliff. (Smiles). I am relaxed. (Shifts directions). You should read my manuscript. It’s really hot. I’m considering writing fiction. Publishers really go for doctors who write fiction. It would be nice not having to pay to have something published.
Cindy. Is writing fiction the answer you’ve been looking for—to solve your problems? It could be the catharsis you need.
Cliff. I doubt if it makes any difference what I do. It’s all the same in the end.
Cindy. That depends on what you mean by “the end.”
Cliff. (Firmly). You’re fishing, doctor.
Cindy. That’s what you want me to do. I always bore you, don’t I?
Cliff. Not really.
Cindy. You’re not trying to change the direction of this conversation?
Cliff. No, I’m trying to talk—to make some sense out of my ramblings.
Cindy. Good. I like to see you trying to come to an understanding about yourself. (Slight pause). Let’s talk about your fears.
Cliff. (Shakes head). No. Maybe we should work on my frustrations in general. Yeah, I’d like that.
Cindy. (Sighs). So you’re after another verbal victory? You’ve been using up my time for the hell of it, haven’t you?
Cliff. (Laughs). It’s not like I don’t know the ropes.
Cindy. (Returns his smile). Remember, we both know why you’re a doctor.
Cliff. (Throws up his hands). Yes, it’s for the money! It’s a dirty job marching around in some stranger’s head, but somebody’s got to earn the big bucks, so why not me?
Cindy. (Firmly). Cliff, I really can’t spare any more time.
Cliff. (Nods sadly). Right. Where was I? (Pauses a moment, then shrugs). It doesn’t matter. I was only thinking about the rich deadbeats who use us. I make a bundle off of them, but the fact of the matter is they have no “real” problems other than feeling guilty over their wealth and the joy it brings them. They hate the part of themselves that enjoys hearing about the poor people. “I’ve got mine” is their nice healthy way of enjoying life. They waste a few dollars with us so they can prove they do worry—some.
Cindy. Their problems are very real to them.
Cliff. Self-pity, you mean.
Cindy. We all suffer from it from time-to-time.
Cliff. You’ve treated plenty of those types. It’s a shame they’re not really sick, but we do need them. What’s wrong with earning a few easy bucks? “Come on in (Shrugs) as long as you can pay the bill!” They care too much about themselves to blow their brains out.
Cindy. (Directing him). Like that teenage girl you were treating for depression? She wasn’t a part of the deal, was she? You weren’t supposed to lose a patient.
Cliff. (Without emotion). Yeah, that was such a waste. Teenagers get so caught up in their little problems. It’s difficult to reach them—tell them that they do have a future.
Cindy. Her death bothered you, didn’t it?
Cliff. (Softly). In a way, I blame myself. I should’ve seen the signs. If only I’d worked with her more (Shows discomfort)–convinced her that things would get better. (Shakes head). I sent flowers to the funeral.
Cindy. Cliff, you aren’t God. If someone has made up their mind that they want out, it’s awfully hard to stop them. She’d managed to convince her parents everything was fine. Remember, it was her parents who took her out of therapy.
Cliff. You sound so cold. I guess there’s no blood on your hands, right?
Cindy. And there is blood on your hands?
Cliff. Of course there is—I earned it! It comes with the job! (Unconvincingly). Maybe I should have been a CPA instead!
Cindy. (Resigned). Right, Cliff. We’ll talk more about it later.
Cliff. (Laughs). Thanks. I need support like that.
Cindy. Does confession make it any easier?
Cliff. Not really.
Cindy. Cliff, you have to work through this. Your behavior is starting to disrupt your practice.
Cliff. (Shifting into the roll of doctor). You’re quite right. I have patients to attend to and so do you. You’ve wasted enough time on me (Stands).
Cindy. (Smiles). Just remember that we’re human, too.
Cliff. You’re right. I tend to forget our limitations. Do you want to have lunch with me (Looks at watch) say, around two?
Cindy. Not today. My patients come first.
Cliff. (Feeling awkward at the rejection). Okay. Well, have a good day (Turns and exits stage right).
Cindy. (Remains sitting at desk, thoughtful, as Sue enters). Yes?
Sue. (Standing by Cindy). There’s been a woman calling. She wants to see you—she sounded frantic.
Cindy. (Looks at Sue, puzzled). Did you get her name and number?
Sue. Yes, but her first name was all she would give. She said to tell you that Kathy called, and you’d better see her because she’s Doctor Cowen’s girlfriend. I didn’t know he had one.
Cindy. (Surprise showing). Why would she want to see me?
Sue. (Shakes her head). She wouldn’t say. She’s calling back. Do you want me to arrange an appointment?
Cindy. Yes, get her in here as quickly as possible. Bump a patient if you have to.
Sue. (Confused). Are you sure? This doesn’t seem right. I don’t think Doctor Cowen will be very happy about his girlfriend seeing you.
Cindy. (Sighs). Sue, I have my reasons. You’ve been here long enough to know that. Now give me a few minutes before you send in Mrs. Mann.
Sue. (Forcing a smile). No problem. (Exits).
Cindy. (Softly, to herself). I don’t like this. It’s too close to home (Lights fade as she picks up a folder).
SCENE 2
Lights come up in Cindy’s living room. She’s seated on the sofa with Daniel beside her.
They’re having cocktails. A tray with a decanter and an ice bucket is on the coffee table.
Daniel. (Touches Cindy’s face). Well?
Cindy. (Looks at Daniel for a moment before taking a sip of her drink). I wish I could forget about Cliff and his problems—leave him at the office. (She smiles).
Daniel. You can only do so much for the guy. Why think about him at all?
Cindy. (Sighs). I’m missing something—a clue he’s given me but feels certain I won’t see. He’s using me, but I can’t figure out why.
Daniel. You’ve known him for a long time.
Cindy. (Shakes head). Too long. After his wife died, he changed—now he only looks out for himself.
Daniel. Clifford Cowen married that woman for her money, and you know it. She was twenty years his senior, for God’s sake.
Cindy. (Holds out glass and Daniel takes it). Kathy called the office today. I’m sure she wants to talk to me about Cliff.
Daniel. (Places glass on coffee table). Maybe she’s found out that Cowen’s not much of a lover.
Cindy. I wouldn’t know about that, but Clifford appears to have problems I haven’t figured out yet.
Daniel. At least you admit it—that the guy is a nut. I’ve always thought he was one brick shy of a full load.
Cindy. (Teasing). Only one? No, Doctor Cowen is only as crazy as he wants to be.
Daniel. You can pick up on guys like Cowen. He’s in his own little world, and I don’t like you working with him.
Cindy. (Firmly). I’ve known him a long time, and I feel an obligation to try and help him. Despite his problems, he manages to help his patients. With them, he disguises his problems well.
Daniel. (Playfully). Remember the “golden rule” of psychiatry—you can only help those who want to help themselves.
Cindy. Sometimes I find myself actually agreeing with Cliff. He can paint one helluva picture of what life is.
Daniel. (Annoyed). I’ll let that slide right on by me. Have you forgotten all the work you’ve done? All the time you’ve given to people who simply needed someone to listen? In this crazy, distorted world nobody takes the time to simply listen—to feel for others. Do you think I’m a joke? (Shakes his head). That we’re a joke? You helped me when I was confused—lost. You let me fall in love with you (Smiles), my doctor! I still wonder what you see in this aged painter.
Cindy. (Troubled). Oh, Daniel. (Briefly kisses him). You are my life. Don’t ever question that. We’ve not seen much of each other lately, but we both knew what my work was like—how it would be. You know I love, don’t you?
Daniel. (Turns away). I do question your love—at times like these. I wonder if you’ve even noticed how much time we haven’t been together. You arrive home, play doctor on the phone, then go to bed without discussing your day or asking about mine—my work. Is the worry over Cowen worth it?
Cindy. (Stands and glances at Daniel before walking to center stage, her back to him). Guilty as charged. It’s easy to get lost in my work. Time passes so quickly and takes so much away. (Sadly). We’ll never get these moments back.
Daniel. (Watching her). So we shouldn’t throw away the time we do have together. I think it’s up to us to take control of the time we have. It’s how we use time and what we want to gain during life that decides how we’ll react to the future. We should never take each other for granted.
Cindy. (Sad expression, speaks as if to herself). How true . Perhaps I’ve not been very supportive of you lately. You had three showings this year, and I’ve not gone to any of them. (Turns to look at him). Here I’ve talked to you about Cliff and nothing else.
Daniel. (Motions for her to sit. Cindy walks over and takes her place beside him). I’m not complaining, and I don’t want reasons for complaining. (He pulls her closer and gently caresses her arms). I love you, Cindy, and always will.
Cindy. (Softly). I wish we could get away for a few weeks.
Daniel. (Vacantly). I thirst. I’ll always remember hearing that in Sunday school.
Cindy. (Confused). The Bible? How did we get on that?
Daniel. I don’t know. (Shrugs). It just came to me. Maybe life is found in the Bible.
Cindy. (Pulls away). Why God?
Daniel. Why not?
Cindy. (Throws her hands up in defeat). Dan, this isn’t the time.
Daniel. (Sighs and leans back). I was trying to make the point that life doesn’t center around your education. Psychiatry is only a tool designed by men to help wayward souls.
Cindy. (Moves the recliner in an effort to show Daniel she’s annoyed). We help, and that’s what counts.
Daniel. Don’t you ever question why there are people who aren’t normal? What knocked them off course? Cindy, you can’t bury God with acquired knowledge.
Cindy. (Smiles weakly). If it works!
Daniel. (Puzzled). Care to explain?
Cindy. (Suddenly serious). My statement explains itself.
Daniel. Don’t play word games with me. I want to know what you’re really thinking.
Cindy. (Tired, lost in thought for a few moments). Someone once asked me why man tended to ignore the Bible, and I easily explained, in great detail, the motives behind this need to believe in something that’s not tangible. I realize now what I was doing—I wanted, at that time, to take part in the new awareness of “me.” The “me” generation—generations now—is searching for new answers that were never meant to be found because the answers have been there all along—in the Bible. People are being hurt by this almost manic search for the “true ” concept of life when it’s already there in God’s word. Peace, love, and brotherhood have always been there, but they won’t be found in worship of “self” but through self-sacrifice. The need to be “special” was the obvious goal of those that marched to the tune of “Like A Rolling Stone.” I was too young to get involved at the time but old enough to wonder about the arrogance of the age, which continues on. I’ve always been on the outside looking in.
Daniel. (Moved). You’ve shown me a side of yourself I didn’t know was there.
Cindy. (Surprised at her words, she smiles self-consciously, unsure how to respond). And what words of wisdom can you add tonight?
Daniel. (Thoughtful for a few moments). Okay, I’ll give you some insight into my psyche that may be new to you. A teacher asked me once what leaders had that the common man lacked, and I answered—money. I really wasn’t that far off the mark. I still feel that way, only now it’s a trick question. Life deals the cards. I’ve seen good, hard-working people fall by the wayside. I can still see them and their tired, knowing eyes—some worn by despair and some bitter—mumbling to themselves as they faced another useless day. In my mind, I see wrinkled hands, slumped shoulders, and the inner understanding they possessed but tried to hide with cynical smiles. They’d walk by me, grimacing and gesturing, while ignoring the hunger in their stomachs. These people were once the fiber of our society but just couldn’t hang onto the dream.
Cindy. (Also moved). You’re not the only one seeing a side they haven’t seen before. We don’t know each other as well as we thought.
Daniel. (Seriously). We’ve seen the demons in our midst.
Cindy. (Surprised by his seriousness). Doesn’t say much for being happy, does it?
Daniel. Happiness is a yes-and-no type answer. (Pauses). We’re as happy as we want to be.
Cindy. Touché.
Daniel. Thanks, I needed your vote of confidence.
Cindy. (Mocking). We have jobs, two cars and a house—who could ask for anything more?
Daniel. (Teasing). You’re not very pretty when you’re cynical.
Cindy. I’ve never felt pretty (Shrugs), and now I’m too old to care.
Daniel. You care.
Cindy. (Lightly). And that is what makes us normal.
Daniel. (Flatly). Really? Then why the obsession with Cowen?
Cindy. (Evasively). I wish he’d move away then you’d not bring his name up. He gets to you, but you refuse to admit it.
Daniel. (Annoyed). No, he’s not a bother to me. He could be, but I try to forget about his kind—push them under the rug.
Cindy. You make it sound so easy. I can’t ignore the fear I feel when he’s stepping off the edge.
Daniel. Don’t let him get to you. It’s all a facade—he’s acting. Cowen wants you to think that he needs your help. He uses his friends like they owe him something.
Cindy. I can handle him, but there are moments when I think he’s reading my thoughts. He’s the type of person we all eventually run into who touch us in a weak area, and we’re never able to shake them off—to be free of them. You know, a first class manipulator.
Daniel. (Firmly). You’ll deal with him. Nothing can make you quit now (Smiles), not even me. Cowen’s one sick cookie and shouldn’t even be in practice with you. What’s bad about the situation is that he’s probably been this way his whole life. It’s only become obvious since his wife’s death. I can’t help but feel that Cowen’s main goal is to make a joke out of psychiatry.
Cindy. You might be right there, but there’s the chance you’re dead wrong, and that’s what I have to go with. Two wrongs don’t make a right.
Daniel. How so?
Cindy. I knew where Cliff was coming from the first day I saw him. I wanted to help him then, but he won me over. I was afraid he would become too attached to me if I offered to help him. It was much later when he asked me for help and I, against my better judgment, gave in.
Daniel. You did what you could. You’ve known him a long time. You interned together, and I’m sure that forms a different kind of bond.
Cindy. (Laughs). What do you know about bonding?
Daniel. (Smugly). I read a lot, remember?
Cindy. Yeah, and that’s what has bonded me to you.
Daniel. So don’t blame yourself for Cowen’s screw-ups, okay?
Cindy. (Thoughtfully). That’s an easy out.
Daniel. (Yawns). Maybe so, maybe not. Stop and think about it. What more can you do? It’s too late to tell to tell him he’s a quack—that he’s just as disturbed, if not more so, than the people who come to him for help.
Cindy. You have the most amazing way of putting things. (Chuckles). We all have character flaws—I just wish I didn’t know Cliff’s. Before you say anything more, keep in mind that he’s a friend.
Daniel. Exactly, love, so let’s put this to rest.
Cindy. I can really complicate things for myself. If I could only walk through the front door and leave my worries at the office, our life would become so much easier!
Daniel. You’re trying too hard to figure all of this out. Give yourself more time.
Cindy. (Nods). Yes, time is what I need.
Daniel. I know something else you need. (Looks at her knowingly).
Cindy. (Coyly). I’m sure you do.
Daniel. (Playfully stern). Maybe you need a good night’s sleep instead.
Cindy. (Her turn to yawn). Oh, I don’t know.
Daniel. Excuse the pun, but I rest my case.
Cindy. You’ll get no rebuttal from me.
Daniel. Tomorrow’s another day. Let’s start off on the right foot. Why don’t you sleep on this—think about cutting back your hours and spending more time relaxing. It’s not like we need the money. I do quite well as an artist, in case you haven’t seen the bank statement lately.
Cindy. You haven’t been getting lonely these past weeks, have you?
Daniel. You know I love you, but there are times when I’d like to find you home—when I need a wife.
Cindy. (Teasing). I wouldn’t want you to stray.
Daniel. (Ignores her). One more for the road. (Holds up his glass and Cindy nods yes. He gets up, fills her glass and takes it to her. He then refills his, sits down, takes a sip, and smiles). I like our evenings together even though, here lately, they’ve been few and far between.
Cindy. (Sips her drink). Everything is subject to change. I think it’s some kind of unwritten law.
Daniel. You always skirt around an issue.
Cindy. Age does have its attributes.
Daniel. (Lightly). I think we’ll enjoy old age together.
Cindy. Don’t age us too quickly.
Daniel. (Feigns surprise). You’re not starting to worry about your age, are you?
Cindy. (Laughs). Do you know a woman who doesn’t?
Daniel. I guess not. Men are just as bad, but we do a better job of hiding it. (Needles Cindy). We simply avoid the subject and look for younger women when the wife gets too old.
Cindy. (Offended). At what age will I be too old for you?
Daniel. (Ignores the question, suddenly serious). Cindy, growing older does bother you, doesn’t it?
Cindy. Yes, my last birthday really hit a nerve.
Daniel. Why?
Cindy. Because I feel like I’m not getting anywhere.
Daniel. That’s part of life—to feel that way at different times.
Cindy. Granted, that’s life, but we’re never content. If you do gain a name, in the end all it means is a bigger obituary. Death—the great equalizer!
Daniel. (Sips his drink for a few moments). That’s something Cowen would say. I’ll mention this once more—get rid of him.
Cindy. (Shakes her head). I’ll not let him influence me. That won’t happen.
Daniel. Are you sure about that? He’s going to harm your practice.
Cindy. (Defensively). Despite his flaws, he’s a good doctor. Brilliant, when he wants to be.
Daniel. (Anger showing). Remember, you told me once you’d like to see him move out of state. That tells me you have serious doubts about your “good doctor.”
Cindy. I have more doubts about myself. (Smiles thinly). My ego will not let me get rid of him, but if he wants to go—well, that’s different.
Daniel. (Hesitantly). I didn’t want to bring this up because you have so much on your mind, and I’m not pointing a finger at Cowen, but the other morning I noticed the flower beds around our bedroom window had been (Searches for the right words)–it was like someone had been there.
Cindy. (Startled). A prowler?
Daniel. It looks that way. (Shrugs). Maybe a large dog, I don’t know. For some reason I can’t explain, it bothers me a great deal.
Cindy. (With fear and doubt). You don’t really think it was Clifford, do you?
Daniel. I didn’t say that. I did let the police know that I had reason to believe someone had been prowling around the house. They’ll be keeping an eye out—just in case.
Cindy. (Apprehensively). I hope you’re wrong. To think that someone was out there, by our bedroom window…
Daniel. (Interrupts). I want you to be careful. Let me know where you’re going, what time you’re coming in, and if you notice anything out of the ordinary.
Cindy. (Trying to hide her concern). Okay, I’ll be more careful. (Pauses for a few moments). What a conversation we’ve had tonight!
Daniel. (Places his glass on the table). Yeah, but this old body is tired. Let’s finally call it a night.
Cindy. (Nods in agreement, then stands). Poor baby, I’ve kept you up past your bedtime. (She walks to the coffee table, puts down her glass, walks behind the sofa, and rubs Daniel’s shoulders).
Daniel. Mmmm—that will put me to sleep.
Cindy. (Tries to convince herself there’s nothing to worry about). Maybe it was only a dog out there. They can easily destroy a flowerbed.
Daniel. It was one helluva of a dog, then.
Cindy. It does make me uneasy.
Daniel. If a patient threatens you, be sure and tell me. The world is filled with nuts, and some of them don’t like psychiatrists.
Cindy. (Stops rubbing his shoulders and responds unconvincingly). Well, you can knock Cliff off your list of suspects. He’s got more important things to do than spy on an associate.
Daniel. (Shrugs). Don’t be so sure about that. You doctors have a way of protecting each other.
Cindy. (Annoyed). Not when it comes to something like this.
Daniel. Okay, enough said. I thought we were going to bed? (Stands and yawns). Last one in cuts the lights off!
Cindy. (Playfully). I always do, don’t I? (Daniel laughs as Cindy starts to follow—lights fade).
ACT 2
SCENE 1
Lights come up to find Cliff pacing up and down in Cindy’s office. He glances at his
watch and continues to pace a minute, before Cindy enters with her briefcase in one hand
and letters in the other. She shows her surprise at seeing him there.
Cliff. (Smiles). Well, it’s about time! (He crosses over to Cindy and hugs her. Cindy, frowning, steps back. For a moment his confusion over her reaction shows, but he quickly gathers himself and smiles). I’m here to show you that there are no hard feelings.
Cindy. (Firmly). You never give up, do you?
Cliff. (Watches as Cindy goes to her desk and begins sorting through some papers while standing). What’s the matter with you?
Cindy. (Looks at him in disbelief). Where the hell have you been? I’ve had to cover for you, and you don’t even bother to tell me why!
Cliff. (Walks over to the desk and leans against it). Give me a break, Cindy. I had other matters to attend to.
Cindy. (Remains standing, her anger obvious). So you take off without a care and leave your patients hanging! I’ve worked too hard to build this practice to have you destroy it! Cliff, it’s time you got your act together—grow up and take pride in yourself.
Cliff. (Ignores her). You need a bigger office. You can have mine if you want.
Cindy. And what’s that supposed to mean?
Cliff. (Shrugs). Did you ever consider the fact that you suffer from penis envy?
Cindy. (Angrily flops down into her chair). Very funny. You can be a real ass; you know that, don’t you? I’m up to my eyeballs in cases, and you make jokes!
Cliff. (Laughs). I had to do something to get you out of your PMS.
Cindy. (Throws up her hands). Can you make your visit quick? I have work to do, and I can’t keep rearranging my schedule to fit your whims. How about your patients?
Cliff. (Smugly sits down in the chair to her right, ignoring the question). You aren’t going to buy me out—take over my half of the practice?
Cindy. (Sighs, shaking her head). No, Cliff, not yet—but the idea is tempting. Unfortunately I can’t take care of the caseload by myself.
Cliff. You’re the only one I have to talk to. Don’t give up on me. I trust you and now that Kathy is giving me a hard time (Shrugs)—that woman could use your help.
Cindy. Don’t you love her?
Cliff. (Without emotion). Love her? I use her, and I’ve never told her otherwise. She wanted to marry a doctor and (Disgusted) now she’s pregnant! I told her to get an abortion or get out.
Cindy. And there’s not a damned thing you did to create this situation?
Cliff. (Flatly). A man’s a man, and Kathy’s had her share. I don’t understand why I keep getting myself involved with women who are always looking for an out.
Cindy. (Matter-of-factly). You know why. You act like some jerk just out for kicks. You’re a respected professional, for God’s sake, and there are people who depend on you, Cliff. If you really can’t handle your patients then I think it’s time to leave. I’ll find another partner.
Cliff. This concerns my private life, Cindy, and has no bearing on my work. I had hoped you’d be more understanding. It’s not my fault. I simply cannot stand being treated like a patient by you or anyone else (Anxiously looks at Cindy with great intensity).
Cindy. When you asked me to help you, I assumed you wished to be my patient.
Cliff. (Guard back up). Don’t forget who I am! Besides, I’m your equal or better. You really can’t help me after all. (Slyly). We both knew that when we started playing our little private game, didn’t we?
Cindy. (Annoyed). So what have I been providing you all this time—amusement?
Cliff. (Trying to smooth things over). Well, let’s just say you’re my confidant.
Cindy. You’ve been paying for my services. Doesn’t that tell you who the doctor is? If not (Shrugs), then you’ve used me like you would a prostitute. Perhaps we should joke about it. A patient who pretends to be a doctor! You’ve been toying with me long enough, Cliff. You might as well admit the truth.
Cliff. No, I’ve only been trying to work things through. I’ve always cared about you. Maybe that’s where we blew it. If you didn’t care for me, you would’ve never compromised yourself. I need you, and you need me.
Cindy. (Firmly). You’ve got it all wrong—you’ve never needed anyone! I thought I could actually help you, but your attitude is beyond me.
Cliff. (Looks away). I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’m moody most of the time—at least it seems that way. Remember when I couldn’t cope with success, and I tried to run from everything? Well, I’ve screwed up again. I’m up to here (Raises arm over head) in debt again. I’ll never learn the fundamentals, will I?
Cindy. (Trying to direct the conversation). It’s time to take a long look at yourself. You make a point of it to hurt anyone who tries to care for you.
Cliff. (Puzzled). Do you really believe that?
Cindy. As your friend, I mean it. Isn’t this what you wanted to hear?
Cliff. No.
Cindy. Think about it.
Cliff. There’s no need. You’re not my analyst—never have been.
Cindy. Then why are you sitting here?
Cliff. Well, let’s just say you’re my confidant.
Cindy. You’re repeating yourself. Do you always pay your confidants, Cliff? (Cliff shakes his head no). I guess we should just laugh this off—like we’ve laughed all the other sessions off. A friend who takes up my time because he likes his ego trips. Yes, it seems like one long, boring joke. It’s time I told you that I’ve had enough. Frankly, I’m tired of your using me.
Cliff. (Timidly). I’m sorry. I say things I don’t really mean. I find you very intelligent, and I do need you—a person I can confess to.
Cindy. (Firmly). No, you’ll never need anyone—not a member of this human race, anyway. Your smug attitude gives you away. (Pauses a few moments). Cliff, you never were good at covering up your body language.
Cliff. (Startled, looks away in confusion). I didn’t mean to hurt you. It’s these strange moods that come over me. So far my patients haven’t picked up on the change in me, but I’m walking on thin ice. I find myself thinking only about the failures.
Cindy. (More to herself). So where is all of this leading?
Cliff. (Smiles). Just hope there isn’t a Hell.
Cindy. (Sarcastically). You don’t sound very depressed to me.
Cliff. (Amused). No comment.
Cindy. (Pauses and studies him for a while, waiting for him to become uncomfortable. Cliff fidgets around). Would you be willing to give me some honest answers?
Cliff. (Uneasily). Depends on what you ask.
Cindy. What would you ask me?
Cliff. You find me attractive, don’t you—maybe too attractive? (He stands and walks around to Cindy and takes her hand in his, seemingly enjoying her discomfiture. Surprised, Cindy gently pulls her hand away).
Cindy. (Regaining her composure). Cliff, please sit down, and we’ll talk about your feelings.
Cliff. (Leans over her). You didn’t answer my question—am I attractive to you?
Cindy. (Calmly). You’re a very attractive man, and I know others who think likewise, so sit down and we’ll talk.
Cliff. (Smiling but doesn’t move). Trying to appease my ego, doctor? Okay, I’ll bite. (He lingers over her a moment, then shrugs and returns to his chair).
Cindy. (Trying to sort out his behavior, she buys some time). I take it you were expecting that answer.
Cliff. (Smoothes back his hair, then stands. He paces a moment before speaking to her). You’re a woman, doctor. I know women. You don’t like to hear this, but men and women are different. I thought that by stringing you along for a few sessions we might become more than just mere friends.
Cindy. You can’t get even, Cliff. I know you. I know where you’re coming from, and that’s why I think it’s time you saw someone else.
Cliff. (Shows anger). So I want my friend—not the doctor—to tell me what to do.
Cindy. (Leans forward). Cliff, you’ve got to stop doing this to me. We’ve been friends a long time—since college. Perhaps we became friends because of our circumstances. I was a woman going into a so-called man’s profession, and you were a timid man struggling with some social difficulties.
Cliff. (Rocking back and forth). Strange as it seems, I’ve never looked at us that way, Cindy. I want to stay friends, and I want to get on with my career.
Cindy. I want to stay friends, too, and I’d like to keep you on as a patient but only under certain conditions.
Cliff. (Stops rocking and sighs). Okay, you’ve got my attention, so lay out the conditions.
Cindy. We go by the book. You make appointments to see me and will not interrupt me again. If you miss even one appointment, you will no longer be my patient. (Cliff nods his agreement). I also want to go over your cases to make sure your work, your patients, are not being harmed by the therapy.
Cliff. I agree to all your terms.
Cindy. (Surprised by his agreeing so readily). And no more impromptu visits?
Cliff. If this is all I have to agree to, then I see no problems with it. Kathy wants me to continue with therapy.
Cindy. Speaking of Kathy, when are you going to start being faithful to her?
Cliff. (Starts rocking again). Who knows? There’s too much temptation around. (Thoughtful for a few moments). It’s too bad the patients are off limits. Some of those females are something else!
Cindy. (Disgusted). If you lay a finger on any of them, you’ll destroy your career.
Cliff. (Smugly). I was putting you on. Can’t you take a joke? I’m not crazy—slightly hormonal but not in the twilight zone—yet.
Cindy. (Dubious but plays along). I’m glad to hear that. Perhaps we can keep you out of the twilight zone.
Cliff. (Changing subject). So how’s Daniel?
Cindy. (Continues to play along). Fine. He’s busy painting, getting ready for another showing. I’m really impressed with his work. He went through a dry spell, but that seems to have passed.
Cliff. (Matter-of-factly). I’ve been meaning to buy one of his paintings. Maybe I’ll drop by the showing.
Cindy. (Smiles). I thought you liked to avoid Dan because he’s open about his dislike for you.
Cliff. (Laughs). When has that ever stopped me? Kathy likes Daniel so why can’t he like me or at least pretend to?
Cindy. Is Kathy going to see you tonight?
Cliff. (Uncertainly). She’s supposed to meet me for dinner, but you know how that goes. She uses this pregnancy to her advantage—at least that’s how it appears to me.
Cindy. (Softly). I can’t say that I blame her. I’m sure you’re not the most understanding man she’s ever met. I know how you can act, Doctor Cowen.
Cliff. That’s just the woman talking.
Cindy. (Nods). Yes, if you really look hard you’ll see that I am a woman.
Cliff. (Teasing). I have noticed, but you said no touching.
Cindy. (Shifts around in chair). How far are you going to take this? Humor doesn’t
suit you, Cliff.
Cliff. (Acting hurt). I would hardly call my teasing some kind of master plan. A man can notice a woman and appreciate her without jumping into bed with her. (Pauses for several moments). To be honest, I needed to talk to you because……Kathy’s not meeting me for dinner—she’s left me. (A little startled, Cindy remains quiet. Cliff starts to rock back and forth again). Well, aren’t you going to say something in my defense?
Cindy. (Ignoring the question). I’m glad you finally told me why you came by today.
Cliff. (Bitterly). Aren’t you fortunate that your world isn’t falling apart.
Cindy. I wasn’t aware that your world was falling apart. Isn’t that what you wanted—to be rid of Kathy? (Cliff doesn’t answer). What are you going to do?
Cliff. You don’t want to know.
Cindy. (Concerned). Yes, I do. You know I care what happens to you! Why else would I sit here and listen to you?
Cliff. Wasn’t I the fool? Now, Kathy’s simply seen the light.
Cindy. (Baiting Cliff). Aren’t you being a little too hard on yourself?
Cliff. Absolutely—I ought to be. I thought I could manage her.
Cindy. Don’t try to change your story around. You told me you wanted out. Remember how you put it? You were angry because she wasn’t about to leave on your terms.
Cliff. I’m not sure how I feel right now.
Cindy. Let’s be frank about this, Cliff, shall we? Why did you want to sit here and go on about Kathy?
Cliff. (Stammers). Can’t you try to understand? You know my reasoning—at least I thought you did. She’s nuts about me, needs me, but I won’t marry her so she runs away to punish me.
Cindy. Did she leave an address or phone number where you can reach her?
Cliff. No, she didn’t. I’m expected to search for her, bring her back, and over a glass of expensive wine, ask her to marry me.
Cindy. (Searching). Are you?
Cliff. (Indignantly). Why should I? She had it made and just tossed it all out the window. Well, this is one man who’s not falling into a very obvious trap. I’m not some clown she picked up off the street. I’m important around here. It’s not my fault, Cindy. It’s the way I am, my nature, that keeps relationships from lasting.
Cindy. Couldn’t you try a wee bit harder to work things out with Kathy?
Cliff. It wouldn’t do any good—I’d just end up bored with her in a few years. Odd, but I do get an empty feeling when I think about her. I don’t know why. She’s certainly not my true love.
Cindy. You think so?
Cliff. It’s the rotten truth. It would be a lie to make an attempt at saying I actually love her. I’d simply gotten used to having her around, plain and simple.
Cindy. (Trying to direct Cliff). Can’t you at least admit to yourself that this is not all Kathy’s fault?
Cliff. (Without emotion). No. You’re unable to see the whole situation. We never got along, never agreed on anything. It’s a damned foolish notion on her part if she thinks I’m going to beg her to come back. It’s too late for us to talk this out. After all, she left me!
Cindy. Oh sure, walk away like you’ve always done when things don’t go your way. Are you trying to live your life like a fool? (She stands).
Cliff. (Angry). Don’t push me, Cindy. I don’t care how this looks. I’m going to forget her, and tomorrow I’ll find another woman.
Cindy. A quick fix, right?
Cliff. (Smugly). That’s right. If it does the trick, don’t knock it.
Cindy. (Wearily). We can cover this more tomorrow. Sue will set up the time.
Cliff. (Stands). I’ll have to check and see if I’m free. I might be busy (Laughs). The ladies do have a thing for doctors.
Cindy. (Flatly). Fine. Make the appointment when you’re ready.
Cliff. Such indifference. I hope you’ll not lose interest in my case. (He turns and exits stage right. Cindy, still standing, shakes her head).
Sue. (Enters, obviously agitated). Doctor?
Cindy. (Vacantly). Yes?
Sue. (Awkwardly). The police are here. One of Doctor Cowen’s patients is saying that he forced her to have relations with him. He’s being taken in for questioning.
Cindy. (Stunned, flops back into her chair). Damn, I was afraid something like this was going to happen! And he knew it the whole time he was in here!
Sue. I heard Doctor Cowen say he was going to call his lawyer.
Cindy. This is just great! Look up Kathy’s number and call her. Tell her I need to see her today—as soon as possible.
Sue. (Nods her head yes). This is going to make the papers. (Disgusted, she pauses for a few moments). Doctor, the patient is a ten-year old girl!
Cindy. (Feeling sick to her stomach). Get me her records. I might be able to tell how he approached her problems—his method of treatment.
Sue. (More to herself). I think I can figure that out.
Cindy. (Anger surfaces). That’s enough, Sue. The girl could be making this up! She could be covering for a family member. Let’s not pass judgment yet, shall we?
Sue. (Backing out). I’ll put that call through for you.
Cindy. (Sadly). You do that. (Sue exits. Cindy, still sitting at her desk, looks defeated. Lights fade out).
SCENE 2
Lights come up to find Cindy and Kathy sitting across from each other in Cindy’s office.
Kathy is plainly dressed and almost childlike in her actions. Seated in the rocker, she’s
nervous and will rock a minute, pause, then resume her rocking. Cindy, seated in the
opposite chair, watches her.
Kathy. (Fearfully). Cliff told me he’s been talking to you—that you’re helping him.
Cindy. Yes, he’s been having some problems.
Kathy. I’m glad he’s been having problems—(Childishly) it serves him right.
He’s made my life a living hell! Why haven’t you been able to change him? He’s in big trouble now.
Cindy. (Patiently). I assure you that I’m in the process of trying to reach him, but he has to want to help himself.
Kathy. (Sighs and starts rocking). Oh, I know how it goes. I’ve picked up information from Cliff. I knew he was trying to confuse you—make you fail—but I couldn’t understand why. He told me it was a game between you two. According to Cliff, we all play games.
Cindy. What kind of game does he play with you?
Kathy. (Scornfully). You name it! You should try living with that psycho! Cliff is nuts. (Her voice rises). It’s taken me a long time to see him for what he is.
Cindy. (Firmly). Calm down. (Smiles). Let’s start from the beginning.
Kathy. (Looks at Cindy with a puzzled expression, realizing she could easily lose control). Sorry, doctor. I want to forgive him—forget all that’s happened—but I can’t.
Cindy. What exactly has happened?
Kathy. (Surprised by the question). He didn’t tell you? I was certain that Cliff would tell you all the dirty little details.
Cindy. Did you want him to tell me?
Kathy. (Searches for cigarettes in her purse. Finds one but doesn’t light it). I’m trying to quit. I just hold it—it relaxes me.
Cindy. If the approach works, then use it.
Kathy. (Thoughtfully watches Cindy for a few moments). I really didn’t care if Cliff talked to you about us. I guess I wanted him to. You’re my only hope.
Cindy. Kathy, I’ll need a lot of information from you before I can even begin to help Cliff.
Kathy. (Sighs). I don’t know if I can—talk about him. Cliff probably had his reasons for not opening up to you. (Briefly brings the cigarette up to her lips but catches herself).
Cindy. (Firmly). Are you willing to help him?
Kathy. I’ll help, but only if you promise me that Cliff will never find out I was here.
Cindy. Agreed.
Kathy. (Flatly). Cliff is a very rich man, but I’m sure you already know that. He lets people think he’s broke, but that’s not true . I didn’t realize how deep his problems were until a few weeks ago. I don’t know the terms you people use (Shrugs), but I know a sicko when I see one. That’s what went through my mind when I found them.
Cindy. Found what?
Kathy. Pictures of children—doing sexual things. (Looks at Cindy for a reaction before continuing). I’m not making this up.
Cindy. (Despite her misgivings, she tries to be fair). I’m sure you’re serious, but perhaps you’re mistaken about Cliff’s intentions. He could be working on another book. Pedophiles are men who cannot relate to others sexually, but can only receive sexual satisfaction by having relations with children. They get excited seeing children in stimulating poses. Cliff has given me no indication that he’s having sexual problems of that nature. He talks about you and has never said your problems were…
Kathy. (Interrupts). Don’t hand me that crap! You’re a psychiatrist, but you’ve missed this one. You can’t see things straight because Cliff is your friend. Our sex life was (Pauses and searches for the right words) anything but normal.
Cindy. (Senses Kathy’s discomfort). You don’t have to take this any further if it’s embarrassing to you. (Pauses a few moments). I’ve got an idea where this is heading.
Kathy. No, I need to talk about it. You need to know what he is—what you’re dealing with. You say these nuts like children for… (Looks at Cindy. Cindy nods her understanding). Well, he made me his little girl—lots of times. In his mind, he made me a child. That’s how he was able to—perform. I knew it wasn’t normal. It made me feel degraded. We started having problems when I refused to play the game any longer. Then when I found those pictures I figured out real quick where his head was. Don’t you see (Leans forward, pleading), it’s my fault he did that to his patient—that child. I stopped playing the games and he lost control!
Cindy. (With difficulty, hides her disgust). What about the baby?
Kathy. (Covers up her face with her hands). You ought to be able to figure that out. (Looks at Cindy). He’ll never be able to get his hands on my child! He wants me to get rid of it, but I’ll get rid of him first!
Cindy. (Trying to remain detached). Kathy, you do understand what kind of trouble he’s in?
Kathy. I know what he did! Cliff is dangerous and maybe now he’ll be stopped! He’s finally out of my life for good!
Cindy. Kathy, please think what all of this means—if you leave him now when he’s at his lowest point. (Pauses for a few moments). Did you ever ask Cliff about the pictures—to find out why he had them? (Kathy shakes her head no). As for the sexual games between you two—that was something you both agreed to do. He didn’t force you, did he?
Kathy. Not at that time. He didn’t start hitting me until I started saying I was leaving.
Cindy. (Startled). And you stayed?
Kathy. (Angry at the question). I thought he was upset with me because of the baby. He would make all these wonderful promises, and I’d want to believe him. You haven’t known him as well as I have. (Shrugs). Anyway, I was sure this time he would change. He was using me, but I refused to see that. You see (She gives a weak smile), I was in love with him.
Cindy. (Trying to sort things out). I’m sure you had your reasons for getting mixed up with Cliff. You knew what you were doing. He hasn’t changed, but it appears that you have. You’ve regained your self-respect.
Kathy. (Nervously). Yeah, I keep forgetting that Cliff has talked to you about me. (Sarcastically). Doctors stick together. He talked to you before the police came, didn’t he?
Cindy. Yes, he came to see me but never mentioned the trouble he was in. I didn’t find out until they took him away.
Kathy. (Puzzled). How was he? Did he act (Pauses) crazy?
Cindy. Upset and hurt. His pride was bruised.
Kathy. (Sarcastically). The poor dear!
Cindy. Is that what you want—to hurt him?
Kathy. (Harshly). Of course that’s what I want! I want to see him suffer!
Cindy. (Tries to reassure Kathy). I understand how you’re feeling right now, but Cliff is in serious trouble and needs your support—our support.
Kathy. (Smirks). Do you really know how I’m feeling? You didn’t do much for Cliff, did you?
Cindy. (Ignores her comment). You’re hurting, which causes me to question how you really feel about Cliff.
Kathy. (Slouches down). It’s easy to offer comfort when you have your own happy little life to go home to.
Cindy. Kathy, it’s difficult dealing with a man like Cliff. His ego will not let him depend on anyone who can potentially hurt him—leave him.
Kathy. (Sits up straight, pats her hair, and opens her purse. She takes out her wallet, opens it, and holds out a photo for Cindy to look at. Cindy leans forward, sees the photo, and nods). See how we once were? Happy. (Mournfully). At least I thought we were.
Cindy. (Softly). I can see that you were once happy.
Kathy. (Closes wallet and returns it to her purse). Yeah (Wistfully), I wish we’d stayed out west.
Cindy. Would it have mattered?
Kathy. Maybe.
Cindy. (Directing Kathy). Think about it for a moment. Does living here really change things? Would things have turned out differently if you’d stayed in L.A.?
Kathy. I have to believe that life would’ve turned out differently for us if we’d stayed there. I need to blame his behavior on something.
Cindy. You can still make a difference with Cliff.
Kathy. (Disgusted by the suggestion). I told you he’s sick! Didn’t you understand me?
Cindy. Yes, I understand what he’s put you through, but does he deserve all the blame? Cliff is in serious trouble. Doesn’t that arouse some pity in you?
Kathy. No, he’d only use that to his advantage, and I don’t need that. I need a whole man who will be a father my child can look up to. I wouldn’t trust Cliff to be around my child—any child.
Cindy. And you’ll find such a man?
Kathy. (False bravado). Absolutely.
Cindy. So you’re going to write Cliff off, the father of your child?
Kathy. (Angrily). You make me out to be a selfish woman. I don’t understand where you’re coming from. Do you really think I should go back to him? (Shows her confusion).
Cindy. I can’t decide that for you. You have to make up your own mind and decide this for yourself. All I ask is that you think it over very carefully.
Kathy. (Frowns). I thought I had.
Cindy. If you had, you wouldn’t be talking to me now. You’re in the process of questioning your reasons for leaving him.
Kathy. (Thoughtfully). Perhaps you’re right. Did he tell you about me—my past? (Tearfully). Any values I had died a long time ago in some cheap motel when I was thirteen years old.
Cindy. You don’t have to tell me this. I’m not your judge.
Kathy. (Regaining her composure, shrugs, then laughs). It’s no big deal. It’s not like I want you to help me. I can get my comfort out of a bottle. (Matter-of-factly). I read where it’s not good for pregnant women to drink.
Cindy. (Studying her). If you know that, then why drink?
Kathy. (Angrily). Because maybe I don’t really give a damn! I don’t have anyone who cares, so why should I care about this parasite growing inside of me? (Suddenly smiles and seems very pleased with herself).
Cindy. I think you’re very bright and, if you want, can take care of yourself. Despite what you just said, you do care about the baby and your own well-being. I know you hate to admit it, but there are people around who care about you and want to help. The first step is letting them.
Kathy. (Suddenly uncomfortable, shifts around in seat). I need a drink right now. I need to drink so I can forget about Cliff.
Cindy. Kathy, that’s an excuse, and you know it.
Kathy. (Defiantly). No, it’s not. He’s a pervert! Look at what he’s done! Cliff will take you down with him if you don’t wake up. (Pleadingly) Don’t let your friendship get in the way!
Cindy. (Careful not to show her own uncertainty over helping Cliff). Don’t worry about me, Kathy. I know what I’m doing. It’s Cliff that’s bothering you. You have the power to hurt him, and that’s exactly what you’re doing.
Kathy. (Smugly). You think you’re so smart, don’t you? Well, I’ve got news for you. Cliff has you on his hit list, and it’s only a matter of time. You’re the one who’s supposed to be helping him, but he’s the one who’s been calling the shots all along. Maybe you should consider getting help yourself since you refuse to see what Cliff is.
Cindy. (Feigns annoyance). Listen, Kathy. I value my work but not to the extent where I’ll be blackmailed by an associate. If Cliff is guilty then he’s only hurt himself. If he’s lied to me, it will come back on him.
Kathy. If that’s the way you feel then so be it. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.
Cindy. I only wish you’d let me help both of you.
Kathy. (Disappointed). I’d hoped you would understand. Who knows, maybe I’m jealous of you and the way Cliff talks about you. At one point, I’d actually thought you two were having an affair. It was the way Cliff acted (Shrugs)—maybe he wanted me to believe that. But I can see that I was wrong.
Cindy. I’m glad you’re being honest with me. So let me do the same. You have the power to make or break Cliff. If you leave him, I don’t think I can put the pieces back together. If you love him, and I think you do, then stay and help him.
Kathy. (Sighs). I wish I could believe you. (Thoughtful for a few moments). You’re great at turning things around. I try not to let educated people fool me. That’s what you’re trying to do! I don’t trust you. It could be your fault that Cliff’s become such a monster! (Pauses for a few moments). I just don’t know.
Cindy. I’m sorry you feel that way.
Kathy. (Softly). I’m not going to marry him. (Pauses for a few moments). It felt good saying that.
Cindy. So you don’t love him—is that what it boils down to?
Kathy. No, I don’t love him. I was wrong coming in to talk to you—I can see that now. I buried my love for him a long time ago. He’s hurt me too much. The pain and knowledge of what he’s become will always be with me.
Cindy. I wish I could make you understand that he hurt you because he can’t deal with the love that he feels for you. He’s confused and doesn’t want to admit that he can love someone other than himself.
Kathy. How do I know if you’re telling me the truth? Pain is pain. How can I believe in him after what he’s done now?
Cindy. (Still giving Cliff the benefit of the doubt). We still don’t know for sure that he’s done anything. I’ll have to look into that. Some of Cliff’s patients can be very difficult. The patient he supposedly molested could be doing this for attention. As for forgiveness—that’s up to you, no one else.
Kathy. (Feeling sorry for herself). What you’re saying doesn’t help much. Nothing helps much—not anymore. I’m just a nobody with big dreams. I shouldn’t blame you or Cliff. I have only myself to blame for this mess.
Cindy. (Trying to steer her out of self-pity). Blame’s not the issue here, Kathy.
Kathy. Yes, it is. After all, I tried to trap him. He was right about that, and you knew he was. You’re a woman.
Cindy. We all try to change our circumstances when we’re unhappy with them.
Kathy. (Shifting focus back on Cliff, she stands, clutching her purse). Oh, come off it! He’s really done it now, and you know it.
Cindy. (Also stands). That’s only your anger speaking. Not the intelligent woman standing in my office.
Kathy. (Shakes her head). This is just great. You’ve managed to make me feel like a fool. Well, Cliff’s a bigger fool than I am. He messed up a good thing. (Thoughtfully). You know, I think this is what he wanted all along. (Shrugs). Now I have no future.
Cindy. (Sadly). I’m sorry you don’t trust me for the answers. If you would try to understand…
Kathy. (Interrupts). I’m sorry, too. All of this is just too much. (Shows her fear). Cliff could kill me and not think twice about it!
Cindy. (Uncertain how to handle Kathy’s last comment, she lets it go). You can still help yourself. It’s not too late.
Kathy. It is too late, but I’ll survive. (Wryly). I’ve always managed to do that.
Cindy. At least think things over. Don’t lose sight of your own worth.
Kathy. I know more than you think, doctor.
Cindy. Think it over a little longer before you act—please.
Kathy. (Nods). Yeah, I’ll do that. You do the same before it’s too late for you.
Cindy. (Smiles). Call if you want to talk some more. I do care, Kathy.
Kathy. (Unconvinced). Sure. (Walks off as lights fade, leaving Cindy behind with an apprehensive look on her face).
ACT 3
SCENE 1
Lights come up to find a young man lying on the sofa in Cindy’s living room. Cindy
enters carrying a tray. On the tray is a coffee pot and cups. The man sits up as she walks
over. Cindy places the tray on the coffee table before sitting next to him. She pours a cup
and hands it to him. He takes it, sighs, and sits back. The young man is her brother, Mark
Williams.
Cindy. (While pouring herself a cup). Well, I see you’re still doing your own thing—traveling all over the place.
Mark. (Softly). That’s the way I want it. Travel calms the soul. (Smiles at her). You should try it sometime. (Mischievously). It could take care of those worry lines.
Cindy. (Acting injured). Some of these worry lines came from worrying about you! (Sips her coffee before becoming serious). What about college?
Mark. (Doesn’t look at her). I’m not that impressed with it, Cindy. I doubt if I’ll ever go back.
Cindy. (Dryly). Just can’t get into the “art” of studying, can you?
Mark. (Leans forward, still holding his cup as if studying the contents). I’m a failure, Cindy. You might as well accept it—I have.
Cindy. (Frowns). You’re not giving yourself a chance. You need to admit to yourself what’s important to you in life. (Looks at Mark, concerned and puzzled over his behavior). Mark, you’ve been depressed since walking through my front door. What gives? (Looks more closely at him). You don’t look well. You’ve lost a lot of weight.
Mark. (Finally puts cup down and thoughtfully rubs his chin). I wanted to be like you. (Resigned). It’s remarkable just how unlike we are.
Cindy. What’s wrong, Mark?
Mark. (Flatly). I’m ill, Cindy. Didn’t I mention that in the postcard I sent?
Cindy. (Deeply concerned). No, you didn’t.
Mark. (Shrugs). So much for remembering. I guess I should’ve come to see you months ago, but I didn’t know what to do. I don’t want you to hate me.
Cindy. (Coaxingly). I could never hate my brother, and you know that. Go on, Mark. Tell me what’s wrong.
Mark. (Hands trembling as he again reaches for the cup). I’ll tell you in a minute. So much to tell, and then again, nothing to tell. It depends on how you look at it.
Cindy. You know you can confide in me.
Mark. I met a wonderful person—so very kind, only different. We started out talking and flirting. Not me at first. This person really came on to me. I didn’t know what to do—so many different reactions.
Cindy. What happened then?
Mark. We drank awhile then got into a fight with some rednecks. (Smirks, then shakes his head as if clearing his thoughts). I don’t know who started it. Then we went to this person’s place. We spent the night together, and now I can’t live with myself.
Cindy. (Beginning to understand). Go on.
Mark. (Not hiding his guilt). I’m not a very normal person and never have been. (Pauses to build up his courage). Cindy, It was a guy I slept with. Your brother is gay. I woke up scared the next morning and got the hell out of there. I felt so dirty, but you know something?
Cindy. (Hides her disgust and maintains her composure). What’s that?
Mark. (Staring at her). I liked it! It was a splendid night! (Confused). Maybe it was a big mistake but…
Cindy. What became of this—lover?
Mark. (Indifferently). Went back to his wife and kids, I guess. Turns out it was his thing to have one night affairs. For me, it didn’t stop there. I started hanging out at gay bars—meeting others for brief flings. (Looks at Cindy apprehensively). I warned you I wasn’t normal, sis.
Cindy. (Unable to maintain her composure, her anguish shows). Mark, you’re my brother, and I do love you but…
Mark. (Interrupts her). Well, there’s more to this—if you want me to go on. I know your views on perverts.
Cindy. I’m more understanding than you think. (Fearing the worst). I want to hear you out.
Mark. (Forces a smile as he reaches over to refill his coffee cup. He takes his time, obviously stalling. At last, he sits back and slowly sips his coffee for a few moments). Do you mind if I crash here tonight?
Cindy. Of course not.
Mark. I had to talk to you. You’re thinking I need your help. (Looks at her with contempt). The folks always harp on how great you are. Now they’ll really hate me.
Cindy. (Mechanically). They love you. You’ll have to give them time to adjust—if you decide to tell them.
Mark. I don’t have time.
Cindy. (Afraid of what’s coming). What are you talking about? You’re five years younger than me, and I don’t consider myself over the hill!
Mark. I’m ill.
Cindy. (Fearfully). How ill?
Mark. (Earnestly, rushing his words). It’s no use telling me I could be wrong. I’ve been to several doctors. I decided to see you one last time before the end comes.
Cindy. (In denial). What the hell are you talking about? What’s wrong with you?
Mark. (Softly). I have AIDS.
Cindy. (Losing control, she slaps Mark across the face, sending the coffee cup flying. Startled, Mark jumps to his feet while Cindy remains seated. She covers her face with her hands as he stares at her, deeply hurt). I’m sorry, Mark! I’m so sorry. (She starts to cry. Overcoming his hurt, Mark goes to Cindy and puts his arms around her).
Mark. (Suddenly bitter). Oh, yeah. It’s easy to cry, but it changes nothing. I have the disease and I’m dying. Look at your reaction, and I’m your brother. Think how other people will treat me!
Cindy. (Pulls free and stands). I need a drink. Stay put while I go and get a bottle. (Mark nods as she walks off, stage right. He rubs his face in defeat. A few moments later, Cindy returns with a bottle and two glasses. She takes a seat by Mark, places the glasses on the coffee table, opens the bottle, and pours a large amount into each glass). Here. (She holds out one of the glasses, and Mark takes it).
Mark. (Takes a long swallow, Cindy does likewise). I’m not going to tell the folks.
Cindy. (Flushed). That’s up to you. It will be difficult for me to keep quiet when you’ve gone to the hospital. (Desperately). How about treatment?
Mark. (Sadly). All treatment does is buy you some time—it only prolongs the agony. I decided against it. (Pauses a few moments). I just want it to end.
Cindy. (Tearfully). What do you want me to do?
Mark. (Flatly). Stay away. I’m not going to tell you where I’ll be—where I’ll spend my last days.
Cindy. Dear God, Mark, I’m your sister!
Mark. Doesn’t make any difference. Please, let me die in dignity! I brought this on myself—no one else is to blame.
Cindy. (Takes a few moments to regain her composure). Okay, if that’s what you want.
Mark. It’s what I need. I’ve made some mistakes, and now it’s time to pay for those mistakes. I still hold the dim belief that it’s not God’s judgment.
Cindy. (Angrily). Damnit, Mark! You’re my only brother, and you’re dying!
Mark. (Firmly). Finish your drink. (Cindy weakly complies). Now (He pats her hand), it’s a fact, and it can’t be changed. You have to accept it.
Cindy. I wish you hadn’t told me.
Mark. (Hurt). How’d you change your feelings about me so suddenly?
Cindy. (Bitterly). Because I hate to think what you’ve done with your life and what you’re going through.
Mark. (Finishes his drink and places the glass on the table). It certainly feels good to have told you.
Cindy. (Tries to smile). As hard as it is, I am glad you told me. (Fights back tears).
Mark. Confession is good for the soul, Cindy. You should try it sometime.
Cindy. (Annoyed). My secrets don’t hurt others.
Mark. (Frowns but shows no other emotion). Sorry. Maybe it would’ve been better if I’d stayed away. Then, no family embarrassment, right? Well, dear sis, it’s too late for that now.
Cindy. (Words slightly slurred). No, you did right. I’m sorry, Mark—it’s so hard to look at you and know the truth.
Mark. (Disgusted). Don’t worry, none of your rich friends need to know! Hell, you don’t even have to tell Daniel about me. I certainly won’t.
Cindy. I’ll tell Daniel. I don’t keep things from him. Besides, he’s always liked you.
Mark. (Changes direction of conversation, trying to get things on a more normal course). How’s Daniel been?
Cindy. He’s been doing well.
Mark. Good. He’s a damned good artist. I’ve always enjoyed his work. I saw one of his showings in New York.
Cindy. (Carefully). So how long do you plan to stay?
Mark. Didn’t I tell you? (Shakes head). Only tonight.
Cindy. Can I make a suggestion? (Marks nods his head). Call Mom and Dad.
Mark. (Firmly). No.
Cindy. They love you. It causes them pain when they don’t hear from you.
Mark. Yeah, I know. That’s why I can’t call them. The world traveler dying from the dreaded gay disease! (He rubs his eyes then clears his throat). I’ve always tried to do things better than you. In high school and college you were always on my mind. It was Dad—he always talked about you. He was so thrilled when you finished at the top of your class and set up a private practice. You’ve done well. The way he acted one would’ve thought you were the only child. I guess you didn’t know how jealous I was of you.
Cindy. (Slams her hand down on the table and shouts). That’s right! Blame it all on me! Well, I’ve got news for you, baby brother, what you made of your life was your own doing, and you can’t lay any of this crap on anyone else!
Mark. (Unruffled by her outburst, he responds sadly). Yeah, I’d sure get a laugh out of it then.
Cindy. (Calming down, she asks with difficulty). Do you know who gave you AIDS?
Mark. No. I didn’t have a steady, and once I got sick, I stayed away from other gays. I didn’t want to knowingly infect anyone else.
Cindy. (Moans). This is so unreal! This isn’t supposed to happen to people like us! You’re bright—educated! You’re only twenty-eight, for God’s sake!
Mark. (Firmly). I’ve accepted it, and you will, too—eventually. (Pauses for a few moments). Now (Smiles), it’s been a long day, and I need to leave early.
Cindy. (Feeling devastated). I’m so sorry for you, Mark. (Reluctantly she stands). The guest room is ready. I put some fresh towels out.
Mark. (Yawns). Thanks. Have you talked to Mom lately? (He stands and stretches). I do care about them.
Cindy. (Walks around and stands in front of the coffee table). I called her a few days ago. They’re doing well.
Mark. (Mumbles). I figured they were. (He walks over to Cindy and kisses her on the cheek). Wake me early? (She nods and watches as he walks off).
Cindy. (Calls to him). Good night, Mark.
Mark. (Wearily). Good night, sis. (Lights fade as a haggard Cindy picks up the gin bottle and pours herself another drink).
SCENE 2
Lights come up to find Daniel entering the living room. Cindy is asleep on the sofa, the
empty gin bottle beside her. Daniel walks over to Cindy, removes the bottle, places it on
the coffee table, and gently kisses her on the brow. Cindy stirs, opens her eyes,
and smiles up at him.
Cindy. (Voice thick with sleep). You’re back early.
Daniel. I couldn’t spend another Saturday away from you. (Cindy sits up and motions for him to take a seat beside her).
Cindy. (After Daniel puts his arms around her, she suddenly remembers the previous night). Is Mark still here?
Daniel. Mark was here last night? He’s not here now.
Cindy. (Sadly). I was supposed to wake him up. He must have gotten up on his own.
Daniel. One of his brief visits to let you know he’s still around?
Cindy. (Starting to cry, she blurts out). Daniel, he told me that he’s gay—and that he’s dying. He has AIDS!
Daniel. (Stunned, he takes a few moments to respond). Well, that explains a lot. Now we understand why he’s avoided his family.
Cindy. (Bitterly, through her tears). Sure does, doesn’t it! All this time I thought he just hadn’t found himself. Now I know the truth.
Daniel. (Surprised by her bitterness). Cindy, you’re not looking at the whole picture. He didn’t become gay to spite his family. He was probably born that way.
Cindy. (Accusingly). Yeah, that’s right! He was born that way!
Daniel. As a psychiatrist, shouldn’t you be more tolerant? Surely you’ve had gay patients in your practice. (Cindy doesn’t know what to say). I care about Mark but, to be honest, I did wonder about him.
Cindy. (Sadly). Between Mark and Cliff, it seems my life is going down the toilet, and there’s nothing I can do about it.
Daniel. What’s the latest on Cliff?
Cindy. The police took him in for questioning—he may have acted inappropriately with one of his patients—a young girl.
Daniel. (Stunned again, he takes a few moments to respond). Is there any truth to it?
Cindy. I don’t know yet.
Daniel. You can’t blame yourself for the way things are going. Sometimes you just have to accept what happens. You’re not responsible for Mark’s and Cliff’s actions.
Cindy. That’s easy to say but not easy to do. (Remorsefully). I didn’t get up to tell Mark goodbye.
Daniel. (Eyes empty gin bottle). You made sure of that. How are you feeling?
Cindy. (She leans forward and covers her face with her hands for a moment then takes a deep breath). Like hell. (Angrily). Why did Mark do this to us?
Daniel. I don’t think he wanted to hurt anyone—his behavior brought it about.
Cindy. I feel like I’m losing it. (In despair). Mark and Cliff have destroyed everything through their recklessness.
Daniel. (Unconvincingly tries to reassure Cindy). Cindy, it will all work out.
Cindy. (Shakes her head). I have serious doubts about that. Not after Mark dropped his trash in my lap.
Daniel. (Disappointed). Where’s your compassion? I’m here for you. I’ll help you sort things out.
Cindy. (Laughs bitterly). Right—it will all fall neatly into place. Dan, it doesn’t work that way, and you know it! You want to know what really gets to me?
Daniel. What?
Cindy. (Moans). Mark never gave me a chance to understand him.
Daniel. (Growing impatient). Cindy, he didn’t want you to know him—let it go.
Cindy. (Looks at Daniel). That’s what Mark told me to do.
Daniel. (Pats her leg). Enough said for now. (He pauses a moment, not wanting to tell her something else). Cindy, Cowen wants to see you in your office. From what you just told me, I thought the police had him! I answered the phone—it was ringing, and you were asleep.
Cindy. (Surprised). I don’t understand. What did he tell you?
Daniel. (Puzzled). Something about seeing you and taking care of loose ends. He said you’d know what he meant.
Cindy. He wants me to buy out his half of the practice. Maybe that’s what he wants to discuss.
Daniel. (Uneasily). Do you think he’ll cause you any problems? What’s he doing loose anyway?
Cindy. (Shakes her head). I don’t know. But maybe it is time for me to buy him out. Did he tell you what time I’m supposed to meet with him?
Daniel. At four. I don’t like this. I don’t want you going by yourself.
Cindy. (Smiles). I promise you it won’t take long. Our Saturday together won’t be a complete waste. Don’t worry—Clifford’s no threat to me. He may have destroyed his career, and he knows it.
Daniel. He could blame you. You did attempt to help him.
Cindy. (Thoughtfully). I was more of a sounding board. Cliff never really wanted my help. He doesn’t trust women. He was acting out something although I could never figure out what. (Shrugs). Maybe that’s why I missed so many clues to his real problems.
Daniel. So you’re going?
Cindy. (Firmly). Yes, I need to take control of my life. You can’t do this for me. Cliff should’ve left a long time ago. He’s caused a lot of damage, and it’s going to take me awhile to repair the practice. (Suddenly worried, she takes Daniel’s hand). Promise me you’ll stay here by the phone.
Daniel. (Shows his displeasure). I don’t like this one bit.
Cindy. I have to take care of this alone, okay?
Daniel. Are you sure you know what you’re doing?
Cindy. (Hides her doubt). I sure hope so. (Lights fade as she kisses Daniel).
SCENE 3
Lights come up as Clifford enters Cindy’s office, carrying a plant, Scarlet Sage. He walks over and puts the Scarlet Sage on Cindy’s desk. He then sits in her chair and begins talking to the plant.
Cliff. (Gently touching the leaves). She’ll never figure it out. No (Shakes head), Cindy isn’t that smart. They’re really out to get me, but they didn’t have enough evidence to hold me. If I hadn’t been such a big shot doctor, nobody would give a damn! They’ve got another thing coming if they think I’ll just sit around and wait for the hanging. (Smirks). It’s that bitch who’s got to go. (Pauses a moment and smiles). The question is how I’m going to take care of her—not when. (He stands, walks to center stage and rubs his chin in obvious thought). How could I explain myself? Yeah, the nightmares! (He changes his voice to make himself seem meek and fearful). They were your usual run-of-the-mill nightmares. I’d be all by myself in a long, dark room. Not a sound, only shadows. I would start running, looking for a way out, but I’d never get anywhere. Then people would start jeering and pulling at me until I started screaming. I’d wake up at that point in a cold sweat. I never could shake the feeling that my father had been one of those faceless people, trying to punish me, telling me I’d never be a man—always a boy. (His face becomes hard and his words bitter). That old bastard is still haunting me from his grave. I used to pray that he would live to see me, his only son, a doctor, and then I could tell him to go to hell, but the bastard cheated me out of it! He was the one who liked for boys to stay boys! (He laughs). I can sure write the bull! Too bad I won’t be around to read about it. (He glances at his watch, reaches into his jacket pocket, and takes out a small handgun). I’ll bring her here to meet the great doctor. (Sighs). It’s almost show time. (Lights fade as he checks the gun and exits stage right).
SCENE 4
Lights come up as Clifford reenters Cindy’s office with Kathy in tow. Unknown to both
Kathy and Cindy, Cliff has prepared for this confrontation, having previously placed rope
and tape in one of the desk drawers. Cliff shoves Kathy over to the chair. Kathy,
clutching a briefcase with a terrified look on her face, nervously sits down and waits for
Cliff to make a move. He stands in front of her, hands in coat pockets, and smiles coldly.
Kathy. Cliff, I…
Cliff. (Holds up his hands and interrupts). Save your breath! Didn’t think I could find you, did you? My bringing you here is no accident. I wanted you to find those pictures and to tell Cindy about them. You see (Smiles), I knew you were greedy, and that you’d try to get some kind of a payoff. All right, show me what you have that’s worth half my estate.
Kathy. (Unsure of his motives). Cliff (She opens the briefcase and takes out some papers), keep in mind that these are only copies. If you hurt me, my lawyer will know what to do.
Cliff. (Laughs). Give me a break, will you! You’re bluffing—you haven’t seen a lawyer. You’re not a very good liar.
Kathy. (Ignores Cliff). I did some research on you. A few weeks ago, I hired a very good private detective, and he checked you out—went back to all the places where you once lived—all the way back to high school.
Cliff. (A deadly look on his face). And?
Kathy. (Fighting to keep her composure). There were a number of unsolved sex cases involving children. You were a suspect, but the police could never catch you. They said you were a smart bastard! I know what a pedophile is (She declares this angrily), and you’ll never get your sick hands on my child! Your money will assure me of that! Now that you’ve finally made a mistake, I hope they put you away! If you refuse to give me the money, I’ll see to it you’ll never hurt anyone again! I’ll turn all of this over to the police. You’ll rot in jail!
Cliff. (Relaxes and smiles). So you went through my things. I knew it was simply a matter of time before you would. You could say I became tired—tired of controlling everything. I wanted you to confront me. (He takes the gun out of his jacket pocket and aims it at a terrified Kathy). You see, your time is about up. Only Cindy can save you and herself now. Let’s see how good she is.
Kathy. (Trembling). What are you going to do?
Cliff. Cindy and I are going to have a little one-on-one. You’ll watch the proceedings. She’ll be arriving shortly, and you’d better pray she can stop me or you’re both dead.
Kathy. (Jumps to her feet). No! Don’t do this, Cliff!
Cliff. (Calmly, as he levels the gun at her chest). Sit down or I’ll take care of you right now. Cindy and I can have our little debate with or without you. (Menacingly). Actually, a dead body might liven things up a bit. (Kathy meekly does as she’s told. Cliff gets the rope and tape out of the desk drawer and ties her up). This will be uncomfortable, but I don’t want you interrupting.
Kathy. (Fearfully whispers). No! (Lights fade as Cliff covers her mouth with the tape).
SCENE 5
Lights come up to find Kathy in the chair, bound and gagged. Cindy enters her office, but
before she has time to react, Cliff has the gun pointed at her.
Cliff. (Smirks). Greetings, doctor.
Cindy. (Recovering from the shock of seeing Kathy bound and gagged and Cliff pointing a gun at her). Cliff, what in God’s name do you think you’re doing! This isn’t going to solve a damned thing. (She sees the Scarlet Sage on her desk and finally realizes its significance).
Cliff. (Walks over to her). Shut up and listen very carefully or you both die! Do you understand me? (Cindy nods yes). Now, that’s better (He takes Cindy by the arm and walks her to the chair opposite Kathy). Sit down! (Cindy does as she’s told. Cliff goes over to the desk and knocks everything to the floor, including the Scarlet Sage. He then positions himself atop the desk. Sitting cross-legged, he keeps the gun pointed at Cindy).
Cindy. (Breaks the silence). Cliff, please listen to me. I can help you.
Cliff. (Commanding). You will address me as DOCTOR.
Cindy. (While trying to steady herself). Okay—Doctor Cowen. Why did you want to see me?
Cliff. (Laughs). I’m sure you don’t know. (Pauses a few moments). How could you know?
Cindy. (Firmly). Then talk to me—explain the reasons for this. (Points to Kathy).
Cliff. (Looks at Kathy, who is struggling to break free, and smiles). She’s a part of the whole problem. Most people live life according to their needs—to hell with the rest of the world. They screw up in their self-serving lives and blame everyone but themselves. They wonder about their empty existence when the mood suits them. It’s the children that really suffer. Why do you think they come to people like me? They want love—any kind of love. Kathy is childlike, and now she wants to bring another helpless being into the world. She makes one hell of an example, doesn’t she?
Cindy. (Sighs). You can’t blame your problems on Kathy or anyone else. You’re an educated man who abused his power—his position.
Cliff. (Smiles while tossing the gun back-and-forth between his hands). Yes, I’m guilty—but so are you. We helped create this world of greed. You see, I understood the demons that lurked inside of me. I knew there was no cure for my illness because I wouldn’t accept it as an illness. Pedophilia is one of many cancers growing in our society.
Cindy. There are methods available that show promise.
Cliff. (Smirks). I know the ropes, remember? I will not be labeled a pervert! No (Shakes his head), I can’t let that happen. It all came home to me when Kathy told me she was pregnant. (Disgusted). There’s no way this doctor can heal himself.
Cindy. If you’ve already decided the outcome then why drag us through this?
Cliff. (Thoughtfully). Because you’re guilty of the same lie—we’re givers of false hope. You have the stupid belief that people can be helped and use your distorted knowledge to justify your existence.
Cindy. (Anger overcoming fear). What gives you the right to be judge and jury? You recognized your illness and with your intellect used it to your advantage. You enjoy being a pervert—enjoy the power it has brought you. Now that you’re bored with your private corruption, you turn our relationship into a power play for time. Doctor Cowen, you’re smart, but you never could control your massive ego.
Cliff. (Confused by her verbal attack). Shut up!
Cindy. (Asserting herself). You assumed I’d beg for our lives, but on that you’re sadly mistaken. I can’t paint a picture of life in certain terms. Life’s not exact and people are not alike. I’m far from perfect. If I was perfect, I would’ve seen the monster inside of you—the monster you created—that only you can put an end to.
Cliff. (Coldly). You admit you failed me?
Cindy. You failed yourself. I admit I failed in my attempts to reach you because you wouldn’t let me in. You wanted to destroy us both. I was a woman who threatened you.
Cliff. (Shaking his head). You still don’t understand, do you? It comes down to you and me. I could actually get by with killing you. I know the system. Your life is worth about the same as hers. (Points gun at Kathy who stares fearfully at Cindy). With a good lawyer, I might get ten years. It’s no big deal. I’d still be fairly young. Doesn’t say much for our court system, does it?
Cindy. (Soothingly). Okay, Doctor Cowen. You’ve made your point. You win, but what have you won? You’ve destroyed your career—your position. Do you want to spend years in a mental hospital? Let’s just say, for the sake of argument, you eventually were released. What would be waiting for you on the outside?
Cliff. (Emotionless). Why should I let you live, doctor?
Cindy. Because killing us is a waste of time. It would serve no purpose. You know as well as I do that it’s over. You wanted to end your nightmare so you assaulted your patient. Maybe the police couldn’t hold you for now, but you know it’s just a matter of time. There’s no more covering up. It was your last cry for help.
Cliff. (Sadly). I had it all, didn’t I? (He sighs). It’s strange when I think about my life because I never was a part of anything. Even with all my accomplishments, I was still on the outside looking in. You really did care, didn’t you?
Cindy. (Tearfully). Yes, I cared. I saw what you could do. It’s because I cared that I refused to see your true nature.
Cliff. (Her confession angers him). True nature? What do you know about a man’s nature? You have your nice, safe existence built from the fears and confusion of others!
Cindy. (Leans forward). You’re way off base on this one, Doctor Cowen. I honestly care about my patients. Money has never entered into it.
Cliff. (Laughs). Is that why we have a billing office? You never see the bills sent out or the checks rendered.
Cindy. (Angrily). You understood the process when you came into practice with me. I never heard you complain about the way we handled things.
Cliff. (Shrugs). Yeah, it’s a great system we have—a system that lets doctors and hospital corporations make money off of the dying. And let’s not forget the pharmaceutical manufacturers! They’re really rolling in the dough.
Cindy. (Defensively). I’m not going to sit here and debate the pros and cons of our profession with you. My God! You have a gun pointed at us, and you dare to find fault! You should’ve gotten more involved instead of…
Cliff. (Laughing, interrupts). Right you are! I’m passing judgment on everyone as my life goes down the toilet. (Suddenly serious). No, I’m hoping you’ll break away from the system—start building something better. (Despair shows on his face for a few moments, which changes to resolve. He motions at Kathy). Untie her. (Cindy quickly releases Kathy and removes the tape from her mouth. She helps the dazed woman to her feet).
Cindy. (Whispering to Kathy). It’s going to be okay. Do you understand me?
Kathy. (Dazed and confused, she manages to nod her head). I don’t feel well.
Cindy. (Soothingly). You’ll feel better once you’re out of here.
Cliff. (Flatly). Take her out of here now. I know what I have to do.
Cindy. (Supporting Kathy as they start to walk away). Cliff, I’m coming back, and we can talk some more. I’ll help you through this. There are still treatments around that show promise. Give yourself another chance!
Cliff. (Defeated, shakes his head no and levels the gun at Cindy). I don’t want to hear any more arguments from you. I’ve known for a long time what I had to do. Get her out of here before I decide to take both of you with me. You can use the phone in my office. (Smiles). I’m sure you’ll know what to say. Who knows, this could give your practice a much-needed boost.
Cindy. (Pauses a moment, uncertainly). Please Cliff—this won’t erase anything.
Cliff. Get out of here! I’ll not give you another opportunity! (He watches as Cindy leads Kathy out. Once they’re gone, he points the gun to his head and smiles as the lights start to fade).
