Birth. . .

The stage is dark, save for a lit analogue clock in the centre of the background. From the far right the red light of an exit sign lightly shines over a few chairs arranged around a table partially covered with magazines and pamphlets. On the left side of the stage is a large receptionist's desk. Beside the desk is a set of doors leading to the rest of the hospital. A sign near the door indicates that only authorised persons are allowed beyond it.

Enter stage-left: Doctor

The lights suddenly come on, dispelling the mysteriousness of the darkness. The lobby suddenly appears drab and real. The doctor sets a clipboard on the desk and goes over to the doors under the exit sign, fiddling with a few keys at the lock until the door opens.

Enter stage-right: Adam and Cadence

Fragment I

Doctor - Good evening Cadence, Adam. Beautiful sunset, isn't it?

Adam - Yes, I suppose it is.

Cadence - Thank you for letting us come after visiting hours, doctor.

Doctor - Oh, don't worry about it. I'm here until midnight anyway.

Cadence - How's my son, doctor?

Doctor - I know you're concerned about Joseph, but-

Adam - And why wouldn't we be?

Doctor - He's fine. He's only been here two days.

Adam - Already that seems too long.

Doctor - Some patients have been in here two decades with no success, despite our best efforts.

Adam - In a place like this, you could manufacture insanity if you wanted to, with mind-altering drugs and shock-therapy. . .

Doctor - Sir, we stopped relying on such barbaric practices a long time ago. This isn't a medieval asylum, you know.

Adam - More like a prison. . .

Cadence - Father, please. He's only trying to help.

Adam (frustrated) - I know he is. But. . .

Cadence - We have to trust him.

Adam - I know. It's just that. . . I don't think he needs to be here. . . in a place like this. He should be home. . . with his family. . . with us.

Doctor - I agree with you. He should be with those he loves, but-

Cadence - We don't know how to help him, father.

Adam - We can learn. I'm retired now. I've got plenty of time on my hands.

Cadence (directly to Adam) - Enough time to always watch him? What happens in those moments. . .? He's not well. . . he doesn't think as straight as he used to - you know that. Even though he sometimes acts like a child, it doesn't mean that he always thinks like one. . .

Doctor - He is very intelligent.

Cadence (continuing) - What happens if he tries to kill himself again? Father, we both love him - and I don't want him in here anymore than you do - but I don't want him to die either. I won't bury another son if I don't have to. I want him to live. He will come through this. I know he will. He's strong. And then he can come home again. But until then. . .

Adam - Until then, he stays, right? Doctor, you tell us. You're the professional. When will he be able to come home?

Doctor - I guess that all depends on him.

Adam (angrily) - What is that supposed to mean? -that his insanity is a choice? Why would he - or anyone, for that matter - make the decision to go crazy? Did he just wake up one day and decide-?

Doctor - No, of course not. I think it would've been a much longer process. And it's probably been there for a while, unnoticed Would you like to sit down? Coffee maybe?

Adam (gruffly) - That sounds nice.

They move to centre-stage and move three chairs away from the tables and arrange them in a half-circle. Cadence sits at the centre facing the audience. Adam sits on her left while the Doctor goes over behind the desk and begins pouring cups of coffee.

Doctor - How do you take your coffee?

Cadence - No thanks, Doctor, I'm fine.

Adam - Black, if you don't mind.

Doctor - Not at all.

He brings two cups of coffee and his clipboard back to the chairs. He places the clipboard on the floor beside his chair, sits, and takes a sip of his coffee, grimacing from the taste, then places the mug beside the clipboard on the floor.

Doctor - Absolutely rancid, isn't it. . .? Psychoses like Joseph's can often be overlooked. His insanity is his doing, a construction of delusions. If it was just schizophrenia I'd prescribe medication and he could live a normal life. His case is unusual - it's not as simple as patients who merely get visions from God or think that the CIA is out to get them. . .

Cadence - But he says that he's a prophet, a reincarnation of the original Cain.

Adam - That's hogwash.

Doctor - Precisely what I think. Just because he says it doesn't mean that he believes it. Sometimes people - Joseph included - give a simple answer because they don't feel like explaining the truth.

Cadence - What is the truth?

Doctor - I think him saying he's Cain revolves around the death of his brother. . .

Cadence (quietly) - Peter.

Doctor - Yes. . . by the way he acts - he keeps talking as if he actually murdered his brother.

Adam - I don't know why. . .

Doctor - I think he feels guilt. . . even though it was by. . . natural causes.

Adam (bitterly) - If you consider cancer natural.

Doctor - How long ago did Peter die?

Cadence - Almost two years ago. . . he was twenty-one.

Adam - . . .the same age Joseph is now.

Doctor - How did Joseph react at the time?

Cadence - Well enough, I suppose. . . he was always so quiet. They were both so different. Peter was a linebacker for the university. Joseph was a regional chess champion. . . After Peter couldn't play football anymore, they would watch games together; Joseph desperately wanted to make his brother happy. And I think he did. Just a few days before. . . that day. . . he brought part of the team to the hospital to celebrate their victory over a rival university. I think that was Peter's happiest moment, despite the pain, before he died. . .

Doctor - But do either of you know why Joseph might blame himself?

Adam - Just as you said, I suppose. . . guilt.

Cadence - But why would he feel guilt?

Doctor - Perhaps because he was unable to help.

Adam - But there was nothing he could do.

Doctor - Maybe he felt that there should've been something.

Cadence - But what could he possibly have done?

Doctor - I don't know. But I don't think that's it. Perhaps he thought he could help but didn't. The point is that whether or not he actually could save his brother, he did nothing.