SCENE 3
He steps back as the lights come up on DOREL in the garage. DAVID addresses the black bike.
Funny that
he
should give me a wonder drug for saving lives. On the other hand, it’s obvious that he did sort of push me into medicine. Could it be that he wants control over the life-
giving
half of the yin-yang? Not just letting someone live, but assuring quality time by removing causes of suffering?
(DOREL’S frame creaks. The bike’s headlight blinks on and off)
Is that an affirmative?
(The blinking is repeated.)
Okay, I’ll take that as a yes. And two for “no.”
(One blink.)
It would make a kind of sense, for two reasons. First, back when I was still at the hospital, I gave a sample of bleafage to Dr. Kaufman, a biochemist, and asked him whether he could determine its major constituents. He died in the lab the next day, and a fire destroyed whatever he was working on. Later, I ran into Morrie in the morgue, and he told me that synthesizing bleafage was a no-no. He did not want it to become as common as aspirin or antibiotics. That would make it seem he only wanted certain persons to benefit. Second, I believe this guess was confirmed by the instructions he gave me when I set up in private practice. Morrie told me I’d get calls from all over for consultations. He never said where they’d get my name or number or why they’d want me, but he was right. They did start coming in. He told me to take my bleafage with me whenever I went, and that the entire diagnosis and treatment—or lack of it—would be governed solely by a matter of personal perception. I can see Morrie when other people can’t. He said that in those special cases where I’m called in to consult, he would enter the room. If he stands at the head of the bed, the patient will live. I may treat as I would. But if he stands at the foot, I’m to perform a few routine tests and pronounce it a hopeless case. It almost seems as if there were an agenda, as if he had a special deal with some people or a plan into which they fit.
(DOREL’S light blinks once)
Ah, you think so, too! Do you know what it is?
(The light blinks twice, then a third time)
Yes and no? You have some guesses, but you’re not sure?
(One blink)
Of course, no matter what the reasons, I’m helping a lot of people who wouldn’t be helped otherwise.
(One blink)
Morrie once said that you’re working off a debt by being a bicycle.
(One blink)
I didn’t understand what he meant then, and I still don’t. Is there a way you could tell me?
(One blink)
Well, what is it?
DOREL rolls across the garage and leans against the wall, still and lightless. The phone above the workbench rings. DAVID answers.
Hello?
This is Dr. Puleo, Dan Puleo. I know your reputation. We met at that ER seminar this spring.
I remember.
Speaking of emergencies…
You got one?
There’s a limousine on the way to pick you up.
To take me where?
The governor’s mansion.
This involves Caisson himself?
Yes.
How come he’s not in the hospital?
He will be, but you’re near and I think you can beat the ambulance.
I think I can beat the limo, too, if I take the bike trail through the park.
(He hangs up, grabs his medical kit, runs back to the garage and addresses DOREL.)
We’ve got to get to the governor’s mansion fast!
Lights cross-fade, come up on bedroom in governor’s mansion. LOU CAISSON lies motionless in the bed. DR. PULEO stands next to DAVID.
He had a bad bout of flu recently, and gall stones last year. No history of heart problems.
(moving toward the bed)
How are his vitals?
He doesn’t have any, at the moment.
MORRIE enters and, shaking his head, stands at the foot of the bed. Sirens are heard o.s. as DAVID addresses the audience.
Suddenly, I was mad! I was swept by a wave of anger over every decision in my life that Morrie had influenced. In an instant, looking back, I saw just how manipulated I had been with all his little bribes and attentions.
DAVID opens his med kit and places it on the bed.
Are you going to treat him?
DAVID slides his arms under CAISSON, picks him up, walks around the foot of the bed behind MORRIE, and lays him back down again, placing MORRIE at his head. DAVID reaches across and picks up his kit.
I can’t take any responsibility—
(Filling a long syringe)
If I treat him right now he’ll live. If I don’t he’ll die. It’s as simple as that.
(He unbuttons CAISSON’S pajama top and opens it.)
David, don’t do it!
DAVID injects CAISSON in the chest with contents of the syringe. He straightens. MORRIE glares at him, then turns and walks out of the room. CAISSON gasps. DAVID checks his carotid.
There’s a pulse now.
CAISSON opens his eyes. DAVID puts his kit away and buttons CAISSON’s pajama top.
You’ll be all right.
What course of treatment is indicated now?
Put him in the ICU and watch him for 24 hours. If he’s okay after that you can do whatever you want with him.
What about continuing medication?
Negative. Excuse me, I have to go now.
DAVID turns to the door. BETTY stands there.
Him! Why did it have to be him?
Why did it have to be one who once meant to me
More than I ever can say?
Why did it have to be David who came,
The man who went away?
Why did it have to be him
Who came to save the day?
Why did he come with his bag and his art,
The man who squeezed and tore my heart,
The man who dumped my world and went away?
Standing here in the hallway of my life
On a dark evening in this house of the dead,
I see the man emerge from the room,
And he smiles at me. Can it be
He’s stopped the traffic to the tomb?
It is implied that with him on our side
Death’s deciced to call it a day?
Could he have beaten that specter dread,
My man who went away?
Him! There’s lots of pain and turmoil.
I don’t know what to say. But I find I’m smiling back
At the man who went away.
Old memories rise like butterflies,
Spread their wings before my eyes.
And he nods and he turns and he comes this way.
I wonder what he’ll say?
Hi, Betty.
David, is he going to be all right?
Yes.
(a pause)
How’ve you been?
Oh, pretty well.
(starts for the door, then stops)
Could we talk for a minute, in private?
(She leads him into an adjacent sitting room, where they sit.)
I wanted you to know I’ve been missing you for a long time, and I’m sorry about the way I broke up with you. I suppose you’ve got a boyfriend now?
I take it that means you’re unencumbered yourself?
That’s right.
And if I am too?
I’d like to go out with you again. Get to know you again. Is there any possibility you’d be interested?
I could tell you that I’m going to have to think about it. But that wouldn’t be true. I have thought about it, and the answer is yes, I will go out with you, but just for old times’ sake.
He reaches out and takes her hand. As the lights fade, they sit holding hands and talking.
SCENE 4
DAVID is riding DOREL through the park at night. He turns on DORELs headlight.
Talk, damn you! I want your opinion.
All right.
What?!
I said, “All right.” What do you want to know?
How come you wouldn’t talk to me earlier?
I could only talk if you ordered me to. This is the first time you have.
What are you—really?
I was a physician he’d trained in early 19th-century Kentucky. Name’s Don Lautel. I did something he didn’t like. Manufactured and sold a patent medicine—Laurel’s Bleafage Tonic.
Must have helped some people he didn’t want helped.
Aye, and maybe a few horses, too.
I just saved someone he didn’t want saved.
I don’t know what to tell you—except that I was arrogant and insolent when he confronted me concerning the medicine, and I wound up as transportation. You might to try a different tack.
Thanks.
(He plucks a quarter from under the headlight and flips it.)
Tails. I will.
Lights fade, come up on DAVID’S apartment. MORRIE enters.
Care for a cup of tea?
David, how could you? I’ve been good to you, haven’t I? How could you go against my express wishes that way?
Betrayed!
In learning the feelings, one by one,
Betrayed’s not a good thing to know.
I trusted the kid and look what he did:
He saved a man I wanted dead.
It’s sure to go to his head,
Not the way I wanted things to go.
I’m mad right now.
He’s got to learn
That I say who shall die or live.
Though I made a vow, I’m doing a burn
That makes it hard to forgive.
I’ll have to speak with him.
I want this thing set right.
If it goes to his head
And he raises the dead
We’re heading for a fight.
Though David’s my godson
Who taught me to care
Betrayed’s not a good thing to know,
And it’s there, and it’s there, now it’s there!
Betrayed’s not a good thing to know.
I’m sorry, Morrie. I did it because I felt sorry for the guy—starting off with such a great year in office, particularly those health care programs, putting all those fat cat business interests in their place, and being taken out of the game so suddenly. And—well, I used to date his daughter. She’s the one you made me break up with years ago. I still like her, as a matter of fact. That’s why I did it.
(squeezes DAVID’s shoulder)
David, you’re a good-hearted boy. It’s hard to fault a man for compassion, but in my line ofwork it can be a liability. You’re going to have to be ruled by your head, not your heart, when you’re working my cases, you understand?
Yes, Morrie.
Okay. Let’s have a cup of tea and talk football.
Lights fade, come up on the same scene. MORRIE is no longer onstage. The phone rings, DAVID answers it.
Hello? Oh, yes! How are you feeling, Governor?
Fine, and I know l owe you a lot, but that’s not why I’m calling.
Emergency?
That’s right. It’s Betty, and from what Puleo told me about my seizure this sounds like the same thing. He didn’t say anything about it being contagious.
I’ll be right over.
Should I call an ambulance?
No.
(Hangs up, gets his medical kit, goes to DOREL.)
Betty’s got the same thing her dad did.
What are you going to do?
You know what I’m going to do.
I was afraid of that.
SCENE 1
BETTY’S bedroom. BETTY lies unconscious in the bed. DAVID is checking her over as MORRIE enters the room and stands at the foot of the bed. DAVID draws medicine from a vial into a syringe, then turns BETTY around so that MORRIE is standing by her head.
David, I forbid it!
Sorry, Morrie.
He administers the injection. BETTY opens her eyes. DAVID leans down and kisses her. MORRIE reaches over and grips DAVID’s shoulder.
Me, too.
Lights fade, come up on cave as MORRIE leads DAVID through a tunnel lined with candles, and into his office. DAVID notices that one of the candles is much lower than all of the others and is flickering.
It was worth trying. I love her, you know.
(chuckles)
Oh, you think that that’s
her
candle? No. You don’t understand. She’ll live. You’ve seen to that. Her candle is already in good shape. This is
your
candle. You started out kind of handicapped in that regard. Sorry.
You mean that’s all I have left? Maybe a few minutes? And you didn’t mess with it because you’re mad at me? That’s
really
the way it is?
That’s right.
Any, uh, chance of an…extension?
When you’ve crossed my will a second time, after I’d warned you?
I didn’t do it lightly. You kriow how I feel about Betty. There was no real choice. I had to save her. Perhaps such emotions are something you can’t quite understand.