A House Call - Part 3 of 5

EVALUATOR. Almost done. Do you agree to refrain from discussing the procedure in detail to those closest and even those farthest to you, merely stating that during the time in which the procedure takes place you are either “out for a run”, “taking a smoke break”, “on a call”, or otherwise indisposed?

 

FRANCES. I always liked “out for a run”. Makes people think

I exercise.

 

EVALUATOR. Ms. Frances, please! (To Mel.) Mr. Datz?

 

MEL. Yes. 

 

EVALUATOR. Pending a lack of desired results after a predetermined amount of sessions, do you agree to willingly be exited from participation in the procedure without consideration for readmittance?

 

    Mel thinks briefly.

 

MEL. Yes.

 

EVALUATOR. And lastly, are you wearing any jewelry or have any metal objects on your person that security missed?

 

MEL. No.

 

EVALUATOR. That’s all she wrote. 

 

The Evaluator sets the clipboard aside and opens the rectangular case on the table. Inside are two unfashionable, gunmetal bracelets and two identical remotes. The remotes are simple, having only an on/off switch. They are labeled “1” and “2”. “1” corresponds with Mel’s bracelet while “2” corresponds with Frances’. The Evaluator removes the equipment from the case and places it on the table.

 

FRANCES. You remembered one for me! I’m touched, really, I am.

 

EVALUATOR. We all have to carry two now, thanks to you. 

 

FRANCES. Well, that’s just good hospitality. (To Mel.) I absolutely hate sharing.

 

EVALUATOR. Your wrist, please, Mr. Datz. (Mel extends out his left wrist. The Evaluator fastens the bracelet to it.) How’s that feel?

 

MEL. It’s fine. Snug. You know, I think I may have had one just like it as a kid. I was made fun of relentlessly for it, but I always liked it. Do you have it in a different color?

 

    Frances reaches across the table.

 

FRANCES. I’ll just do mine. 

 

    The Evaluator snatches the bracelet away.

 

EVALUATOR. Must you disregard every rule?

 

FRANCES. Just trying to save you time!

 

    The Evaluator sighs and hands the bracelet to Frances.

 

EVALUATOR. Very well. Be careful. Or don’t. You aren’t really a liability anymore. (She gathers her clipboard and stands.) Mr. Datz, a few last things. (She points to the remotes.) Don’t touch these. (She points to the bracelets.) Don’t remove those. And a word of advice. I find it best for those in your position to really reflect on exactly why they are here. Helps set the mood. I would also recommend limiting your interactions with Ms. Frances.

 

FRANCES. She’s kidding. We kid here.

 

EVALUATOR. We do not kid here.

 

MEL. I’ll keep all that in mind, doctor, thank you.

 

EVALUATOR. Doctor?

 

MEL. Yes?

 

EVALUATOR. Why did you call me that?

 

MEL. You’re the doctor, aren’t you?

 

    Brief pause. Frances and the Evaluator share a brief

look then both laugh.

 

EVALUATOR. Who told you there’d be a doctor?

 

MEL. I thought -

 

EVALUATOR. (To Frances.) Did you?

 

FRANCES. C’mon, I’d never!

 

MEL. But -!

 

EVALUATOR. I’m going to file these forms and I’ll be back in a second. Sit tight, Mr. Datz.

 

    She begins to exit.

 

MEL. Wait!

 

    The Evaluator turns.

 

EVALUATOR. Yes?

 

MEL. Earlier, there was a woman. (No immediate response.) There was a woman in another room screaming.

 

EVALUATOR. Oh, I apologize. I will ask her to keep it down.

 

The Evaluator exits. Once the door closes, Frances immediately picks up the remotes, checking them for something.

 

MEL. That’s not what I meant. (To Frances.) You know that’s

not what I meant, right? 

 

FRANCES. (Not paying attention.) You betcha.

 

MEL. I’m concerned, is all.

 

FRANCES. Mhm.

 

MEL. I mean, if she’s screaming, then what am I -? (He

notices Frances not paying attention.) Ms. Frances?

 

FRANCES. (Correcting.) Frances.

 

MEL. Sorry. Is Frances your first name or last name? Or

both?

 

FRANCES. It’s just my name. (She gestures with the remotes.) There’s a “1” and “2”. Does your bracelet have a number on it?

 

MEL. What?

 

FRANCES. Ah, they do this to me every time! Maybe I’m “1” because I’ve been here longer...but maybe I’m “2” because this isn’t my personal session.

 

MEL. What are you talking about?

 

FRANCES. The remotes.

 

MEL. I’m talking about the woman! The one who screamed.

 

FRANCES. Oh. I’m sure she’s fine.

 

MEL. Are you? Are you sure?

 

FRANCES. Mel, are you only concerned about the woman screaming because you don’t want it to be you that’s screaming here?

 

MEL. No!

 

FRANCES. Maybe it was a happy scream, you don’t know.

 

MEL. It doesn’t sit well. (Frances gives up on inspecting the remotes in a frustrated huff. Mel gestures with his bracelet.) What is this?

 

FRANCES. It’s for the procedure.

 

MEL. What about the remotes?

 

FRANCES. Why don’t you spend more time reflecting on why you’re here?

 

MEL. I would, but - 

 

FRANCES. But?

 

MEL. I still don’t know why you’re here. What’s all this about clearance and picking your own room?

 

FRANCES. Confidential.

 

MEL. Do you work here?

 

FRANCES. Ha! I wish they’d pay me. No, I’m a volunteer. Same as you.

 

MEL. I’m actually here for a reason, though.

 

FRANCES. Yeah, so am I.

 

MEL. I am here to do the procedure and fix something about myself.

 

FRANCES. Aren’t we all? All constantly under construction? The safety cones are always up, you’re always choking on the dust.

 

MEL. Yes, and when I heard about this procedure - 

 

FRANCES. Ah, sure. Magic cure-all. One stop shop. One easy trick. One simple solution.

 

The two begin speaking mostly to themselves. Mel becomes more self-serious, Frances more wry.

 

MEL. Staring at myself in that mirror, I would have paid anything to stop feeling that way. To feel like everything was fine again. To never have to look in another mirror at myself and think that there was some menace staring back at me.

 

FRANCES. Like a caged animal. Circling, pleading with your eyes, frightened. You don’t even know when you’re going to strike. No one sees the pleading, they only see the attack. Then, boom, you’re a monster. You’re trapped in a funhouse. Everywhere you look everyone’s got the same expressions. Fear, anger, disgust. Every set of eyes sends you further and further down. 

 

MEL. I am constantly before a tribunal. The scales are stacked. I can’t keep living like this. I can’t! Every laugh I hear is at me, every passing word is a condemnation. I can’t think straight. I can’t sleep without feeling strangled by my sheets. I need this. Whatever this is, I need this. I’ve tried everything else, I must have at this point. I need this to work. (To Frances directly.) Don’t you get that I need this to work?

 

FRANCES. Sure, sure, I getcha.

 

MEL. Can you tell me? Can you tell me if this works? Did it work for you?

 

FRANCES. Ooo, sorry, can’t say.

 

MEL. Have you even done the procedure?

 

FRANCES. Confidential. (Low.) Listen, all I’ll say is, everyone responds a little differently.

 

MEL. They do?

 

FRANCES. Sure, it’s not for everyone. 

 

MEL. Is it for you?

 

FRANCES. Can’t say.

 

Mel crosses to the picture frame and picks it up. He sits down in the armchair and studies the photo.

 

MEL. You know, in my home I have this picture over the fireplace.

 

FRANCES. She looks young.

 

MEL. It’s the only picture I have of her.

 

FRANCES. She dead?

 

MEL. Well, I…don’t know. 

 

FRANCES. You don’t know?

 

MEL. No. It’s been a long time.

 

FRANCES. I’ve always known if I was dead.

 

MEL. (He continues staring at the picture.) It really could be her sister. 

 

    Frances gets impatient and picks up the remotes again.

 

FRANCES. Alright, I can’t say anything, right? But that form didn’t say anything about me not doing something. (She gestures with the remotes.) Be honest, which one do you think is mine?

 

MEL. She said we weren’t allowed to touch those.

 

FRANCES. She said that to you, not me.

 

MEL. I thought - 

 

FRANCES. Stop thinking! We can do whatever we want, just help me out here. “1” or “2”, Mel? Which one’s mine? (Mel hesitates, indecisive.) Ah, screw it. (She holds remote 2 out to Mel.) Take it. (He doesn’t.) C’mon, take it.

 

MEL. But we don’t know what these do.

 

FRANCES. You don’t know what these do.

 

MEL. What do they do?

 

FRANCES. I can’t tell you, remember?

 

MEL. Shouldn’t we wait for the...well, she’s not a doctor, but shouldn’t we -?

 

FRANCES. Do we really need someone’s help to flip a switch? I’ll let you go first. (Mel hesitates.) Take the damn thing! (Mel snatches it.) Alright, now flip the switch.

 

MEL. Um...this one here?

 

FRANCES. Stop stalling. All you do is flip the switch.

 

MEL. I don’t know if - 

 

FRANCES. She could be back any second! Flip it!

 

MEL. But what happens!?

 

FRANCES. If that is the remote for your bracelet, you don’t have anything to worry about and I’ll handle it. If it’s the remote for my bracelet, just wait five seconds and flip the switch back. It’s the simplest thing in the world.

 

MEL. I don’t think I can - 

 

FRANCES. No one will know.

 

MEL. I’m sorry, I - 

 

    Mel places Remote 2 back on the table. Frances grabs it.

 

FRANCES. Try and give a guy an opportunity to do something

for himself. I must wield my own thunderbolt. (After quick deliberation, she places Remote 1 back on the table.) Now, remember, I need you to remember Mel, okay? If it’s mine, wait five seconds then flip the switch back.

 

MEL. I don’t want to touch - (Frances flips the switch on the remote. A brief thrumming of electricity is heard [hereafter “electricity”]. Frances seizes and then collapses into the couch face down, dropping the remote in the process.) Frances? (No response.) Ms. Frances? Is this a joke? (Mel crosses to her and shakes her shoulder.) Frances, c’mon, get up. You’re not fooling me with whatever this is. “Wait five seconds and flip the switch back.” It’s all guff, isn’t it? I’m not putting myself in bad favor with the people running this procedure. They said I wouldn’t be allowed back if they didn’t think I was right for it and I’m not risking that for this joke or prank or whatever it is. (Mel picks up Remote 2 and places it back on the table alongside Remote 1. He straightens them out and stacks the magazines.) That’s better. (He sits in the armchair and admires the room.) It really is remarkable. I don’t even know how you'd find a specific couch or a specific armchair. Probably online. Reminds me of sitting around my home. I don’t often turn the lights on, actually. I sometimes feel like I’m haunting my own place. Now I imagine I’ll be afraid of walking into my house and seeing you lounging on my couch. (Brief pause. Mel picks up a magazine and flips through it. He’s reminded that they’re blank.) Oh. (He puts the magazine back.) You’re showing a lot of commitment to this bit. I can’t argue that. (Brief pause.) Stand up and take a bow.

 

    Brief pause. Mel yawns. The Evaluator enters.

 

EVALUATOR. I apologize for the delay, Mr. Datz. So many

hallways in this place and I have to submit your form to fill out another form to fill out another form to - (She notices Frances and sighs.) Mr. Datz, I was really hoping you could control your guest.

 

    Mel chuckles.

 

MEL. Yes, we have quite the comedian here.

 

Brief pause. They both stare at Frances’ body. Mel stops chuckling. The Evaluator finds Remote 2 and flips

the switch. Electricity. Frances’ body jolts. Frances slowly rises back up clutching her chest over her heart. 

 

EVALUATOR. I suppose no one can convince Ms. Frances to keep to her own devices. (She gestures with the remote.) Or anyone else’s, for that matter. 

 

FRANCES. (Coming to.) Oh, blow it out your ass. How long was that?

 

EVALUATOR. Mr. Datz, how long was Ms. Frances under just now?

 

MEL. Under? I - I don’t know, I -

 

FRANCES. I said five seconds.

 

MEL. I didn’t understand, I -

 

EVALUATOR. You weren’t the one to flip the switch, were you, Mr. Datz?

 

FRANCES. No, no. He made me do it myself.

 

MEL. I didn’t even know what was going on!

 

EVALUATOR. A bit of bar trivia for you, Mr. Datz. The human body can sustain itself in death for around four to six minutes before it cannot be resuscitated. We normally only allow for five seconds.

 

FRANCES. Hear that? Five seconds!

 

MEL. Death?

 

EVALUATOR. Yes, Mr. Datz, death. It’s a much easier pill to swallow when I can explain and certain people don’t beat me to the punch.

 

FRANCES. (To Mel.) All you had to do was flip the switch after five seconds. I said it twice! 

 

MEL. I thought it was all a joke! You were dead?

 

FRANCES. Yes. I have been. Loads of times. Didn’t I look dead?

 

MEL. Yes, you were very convincing!

 

FRANCES. I’ve never been out for that long. (She inhales deeply and smiles.) Wow. 

 

MEL. Are you -?

 

FRANCES. The human body has four to six minutes after death where it can be resuscitated. That’s four to six minutes for all of you. For me, it’s like a light switch off, then a light switch on again. Flip past grief and fear and all of that. Flip straight to the acceptance. The body doesn’t know it’s going to be brought back. It sits and is content. It has to be. For that eternity, for that four to six minutes, it’s the calmest you’ll ever be. The least complicated your life will ever be. Can you imagine if you were conscious for that time? Having to sit there and think and weigh the pros and cons of life against death and hope you figure out how you feel before the first brain cells start to die? Can you imagine? Can you?

 

EVALUATOR. No one likes a spoiler, Ms. Frances. Don’t you think Mr. Datz would have liked to experience it for himself first before you started prattling on?

 

FRANCES. I don’t know. I was dead.

 

    Mel clears his throat. The Evaluator and Frances look to

him.

 

MEL. I’d like to leave.

 

EVALUATOR. Leave? We only just started.

 

MEL. No, I don’t want to continue.

 

EVALUATOR. You already signed all the forms.

 

MEL. I understand, but - 

 

EVALUATOR. You understand that there are no refunds.

 

MEL. I don’t care. This is ridiculous, this is - 

 

EVALUATOR. You know, a great deal of effort was given in order to recreate your living room here as exactly as possible. Even you yourself agreed that it’s as faithful as possible. Do you know why that is?

 

MEL. I don’t know. I just want to - 

 

EVALUATOR. It’s comfort, Mr. Datz. It’s all about comfort. If you’re in a comfortable, familiar place, you can’t imagine the things you’d be willing to subject yourself to.

 

MEL. This isn’t normal.

 

EVALUATOR. This is exceedingly normal. This is your living room! The bastion of normalcy. You have your terrible couch,

your television. Nearly eighteen-point-three percent of people die in their home and I can say that one-hundred percent of those deaths aren’t nearly as regulated as the deaths here. Not a hair is out of place here. You have nothing to worry about.

 

MEL. Does this procedure…work?

 

EVALUATOR. Mr. Datz, you know I can’t tell you that.

 

FRANCES. Works for me. Can’t get through my day without stopping the ol’ ticker once or twice.