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 any more 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 center-stage and move three chairs away from the tables and arrange them in a half-circle. Cadence sits at the center 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 why he says 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.