A House Call - Part 4 of 5

EVALUATOR. Mr. Datz, the fact of the matter is you said yourself that you’ve tried everything. Why not this? This isn’t death death. This is just death. Quick, painless, then back up and kicking like Ms. Frances.

FRANCES. She’s not wrong. 

 

MEL. Wait a minute. 

 

EVALUATOR. What?

 

MEL. I never told you I tried everything else.

 

EVALUATOR. It’s all on recording, Mr. Datz.

 

MEL. Recording?

 

EVALUATOR. Yes. You’re being recorded. Didn’t you know? It

was in the initial forms that you signed.

 

FRANCES. Oh, he didn’t read those.

 

EVALUATOR. You didn’t read the -? (Mel shakes his head “no”.) Who doesn’t read forms for an experimental procedure?

 

FRANCES. Melvin Datz.

 

MEL. Well, give me the form now and I’ll read over it this time. In detail.

 

   The Evaluator picks up Remote 1.

 

EVALUATOR. It’s a bit late for that. Like I said, you’ve already signed. 

 

MEL. This isn’t what I imagined. 

 

EVALUATOR. It rarely is. But you’ve tried everything. Why not this?

 

FRANCES. It’s not that bad, really. It’s on, then off, then back on again. Like a light switch.

 

MEL. Will I feel anything?

 

FRANCES. Oh, nothing. Nothing but a little kick.

 

MEL. Christ, I don’t know…

 

EVALUATOR. Mr. Datz, please, the faster we can get through the first one, the faster -

 

FRANCES. I was scared my first time, too. Now, I can’t even remember what that felt like.

 

MEL. I guess we can give it a try.

 

EVALUATOR. Alright, then.

 

The Evaluator is about to flip Mel’s switch but is interrupted.

 

MEL. Wait!

 

EVALUATOR. What is it?

 

MEL. Will you give me a countdown?

 

EVALUATOR. Sure. Three, two - 

 

MEL. From five, please. Five seconds, then out, five

seconds, then back in?

 

EVALUATOR. Five, four, three, two - 

 

MEL. Wait! 

 

Mel shifts his weight and nestles further into the armchair.

 

EVALUATOR. Are you comfy enough, Mr. Datz?

 

MEL. Yes…this is a newer chair than mine at home.

 

EVALUATOR. That so?

 

MEL. Mine has a nick in the armrest. Stuffing’s coming out. I don’t know when I first noticed the rip, but I just started picking at it and picking at it like a scab. Kept pulling back more layers. Ruining my favorite chair. Pulling stuffing out. Not even realizing I was doing it. I’d be watching TV then look down and see the hole was twice as big and there was stuffing all over the floor. I’d kick myself every time I’d do it and say “Mel, you have got to get this chair fixed” and then never do it. I never did it. That chair looks like hell now. Seeing this new one, seeing this perfectly new chair, all I want to do is start tearing a hole in the armrest. Just start over again. I know how it’ll make me feel. I know I’ll look at that rip and think about how I want to get it fixed, get a new chair, but I know I’ll start over. I’ll always make the hole twice as big unless - 

 

The Evaluator flips the switch on Remote 1. Electricity. Mel slumps over in the chair.

 

EVALUATOR. One Mississippi, two Mississipii - 

 

FRANCES. Do me now.

 

EVALUATOR. Three Mississipii - 

 

FRANCES. What are you waiting for? Flip mine now.

 

EVALUATOR. Four Mississippi - 

 

    Frances tries to take Remote 2 from the Evaluator.

 

FRANCES. If he goes under, I go under!

 

    The Evaluator struggles against Frances.

 

EVALUATOR. Ms. Frances, please!

 

FRANCES. Flip it!

 

EVALUATOR. Sit back!

 

    Frances sits back against the couch.

 

EVALUATOR. Can you not wait just a minute?

 

FRANCES. I’m doing my job. I’m helping ease him into it, so

I should get my reward.

 

EVALUATOR. You’ll get it, just give him a few minutes to - 

 

FRANCES. Flip my switch right now or I’ll tell someone

upstairs. I’m - 

 

EVALUATOR. Will you, Mighty Zeus? Are there none above your authority, your throne of laurels and fig trees? You’re just some sort of anomaly they want to keep around to gawk at. You’re a variable, a -!

 

FRANCES. (Sing-song.) Five Mississippi…

 

The Evaluator flips the switch on Remote 1. Electricity. Mel kicks back to life. As he comes to, he becomes frantic.

 

EVALUATOR. Something wrong, Mr. Datz?

 

MEL. I was -!

 

EVALUATOR. Dead. Yes. But now you’re back.

 

MEL. You killed me.

 

EVALUATOR. Only for a moment. We’ve perfected the art.

 

MEL. You executed me.

 

EVALUATOR. Hardly. Executions are carnival attractions.

Executions are not for the executed. 

 

FRANCES. If we cut off your head, it’d be a lot harder to bring you back. 

 

EVALUATOR. How do you feel?

 

MEL. I…I don’t know. I’m, uh…oh, God, I don’t know. 

 

EVALUATOR. Did you see any lights after I flipped this switch?

 

MEL. Lights?

 

EVALUATOR. Lights. Bright lights. 

 

MEL. No.

 

EVALUATOR. No tunnels you traveled down?

 

MEL. No.

 

EVALUATOR. Surrounded by loved ones?

 

MEL. No.

 

EVALUATOR. Your mother, perhaps?

 

MEL. No.

 

EVALUATOR. Did you feel peace?

 

    Brief pause.

 

MEL. No.

 

FRANCES. It’s my turn, isn’t it? Isn’t it my - 

 

The Evaluator flips the switch on Remote 2. Electricity.

Frances slumps over.

 

EVALUATOR. One Mississippi, two Mississippi, three

Mississippi, four Mississippi, five Mississippi. (She flips the switch on Remote 2. Electricity. Frances slowly sits up.) Safer than getting in your car. Are you done with your tantrum, Ms. Frances?

FRANCES. As long as you keep flipping that thing, we’re good.

 

EVALUATOR. So, tell me, how do you feel, Mr. Datz? What did you experience?

 

MEL. I…I can’t say. I don’t feel anything. How can I describe a lack of feeling? I can’t. No one can…but I can’t think of anything else. I didn’t know hot or cold, hunger or thirst, pain or satisfaction. It was an eternity. It was…how long was I dead? I don’t even remember what it was like because...how long was I dead? Is that what it’s like? An absence? It was nothing but it was everything. Is that what contentment is? Just that nothing? Why think about anything else ever when we know there is a boundless nothing to dwell on?

 

    Brief pause.

 

FRANCES. We have a philosopher. Kill me.

 

MEL. How am I supposed to feel?

 

EVALUATOR. Mr. Datz, this is what you make of it. It isn’t an exact science. We know we live, we know we die. We’re no closer to finding out what that means or if it even means anything. Frankly, that’s not our concern. That’s yours. You came here to be treated, yes?

 

MEL. Yes, I’m debilitated. I’m afflicted, I’m -

 

EVALUATOR. Yes, we know. We know that, don’t we, Ms. Frances?

 

FRANCES. (Lighthearted.) He wouldn’t shut up about it.

 

EVALUATOR. Everyone’s afflicted, Mr. Datz. Seeking cures and trying to root out answers only works for some of us. And for those of us that find their solace, more power to them. It’s not that simple for everyone, though. There’s always doubt. There’s always some leering thing in the corners of our eyes saying “what if” and “what about”. All that uncertainty. All that ambiguity. All that ambivalence. It picks you apart. Tears out your stuffing. Wouldn’t you say so, Ms. Frances?

 

FRANCES. Guts you like a fish, I’d say. Clears up all that unwanted shit right quick. I can’t think about where I’ll be in five years if I’m dead. I can’t think about my responsibilities when I’m dead. You want to dwell on the nothing? Melvin, my friend, that’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. The whole point of nothing is that there’s nothing to dwell on. This helps refocus me. I have nothing to worry about because at the end of the day, the end of the long day, all of it’s going poof. Or maybe it’ll be more of a click.

 

EVALUATOR. Sounds like you’re becoming a philosopher yourself, Ms. Frances.

 

    Frances fake-retches.

 

FRANCES. Don’t say that.

 

EVALUATOR. So, what’ll it be, Mr. Datz? Are we done for the day or would you like to go again? I highly recommend that you at least -

 

MEL. Wait. (He grabs the picture frame. He stares into it for a moment.) I’d like to go again. Just to work through it in my head.

 

FRANCES. Atta boy!

 

MEL. Just five seconds?

 

EVALUATOR. Just five seconds.

 

FRANCES. (To the Evaluator.) Just like last time, right?

 

EVALUATOR. Are you ready, Mr. Datz?

 

MEL. Yes.

 

FRANCES. Wait, wait! (Frances tries to make herself comfortable on the couch.) It’ll do.

 

EVALUATOR. So long. (She flips both switches. Mel and Frances collapse.) One Mississippi, two Mississippi, three Mississippi, four Mississippi, and… (She flips both switches. Frances is faster to recoup. Mel slowly comes to after the jolt.) Good day.

 

FRANCES. Ugh, no one should have to die on this couch. Couldn’t you guys have, just once, made a call to get something different?

 

EVALUATOR. You understand the importance of accuracy, don’t you, Ms. Frances? It’s like we plucked it from his house. Isn’t that right, Mr. Datz? (Mel is lost in thought and

doesn’t respond.) Mr. Datz? It’s rude to ignore your guests.

 

MEL. I learned something. I learned something pressing and that is…that it’s not rude to ignore anyone at any time because the act of ignoring is in and of itself a passive way to say you won’t engage, you won’t instigate, you will be neutral and not agree or disagree or cause harm or good or output. The less the output the more nothing you can bring to the table. At the end of the day, the long day, that’s what is most important. Not contributing to the improvement or the destruction of lives or the world or the animals but to a force, an immutable force that exerts nothing. Nothing. I stared into the void and the void told me it was out for lunch and therefore I, too, am out for lunch in a sense that I will not be here when I am called. It is not rude to ignore, it is to ignore and to ignore is. 

 

    Brief pause.

 

FRANCES. Can we switch spots? (Mel stands, picture frame in hand, and gestures to the armchair.) Thanks!

 

Frances nestles into the armchair while Mel sits on the couch with the picture frame. 

 

MEL. I often imagined myself dying in that chair. I haunted my own house. My head itched, my back ached. Those seem like small things, now. (He looks at the picture frame.) This is nice. I like this. 

 

EVALUATOR. Who is it, Mr. Datz?

 

MEL. I don’t know.

 

FRANCES. It’s not your mother, is it?

 

MEL. No.

 

FRANCES. Do you love your mother?

 

    Mel does not look up from the frame.

 

MEL. Hm?

 

FRANCES. Do you love your mother?

 

MEL. I couldn’t say.

 

FRANCES. Couldn’t or won’t?

 

MEL. Love was never something I considered. She was there

and then she wasn’t. What is that? I didn’t feel loss, I was too young to understand it. She was there and then she wasn’t. Those are my feelings on the matter.

 

EVALUATOR. Do you remember how you felt before the procedure? About her?

 

MEL. No. There is no before, only after. 

FRANCES. Oh, he’s a stickler. He’s acting like something’s

changed.

 

EVALUATOR. Something has. Look at him. (She waves her hand

in front of Mel’s eyes. He doesn’t react.) What do you call that?

 

FRANCES. Oh, that’s nothing. Nothing’s changed for him. He just got reset is all. Factory settings.

 

EVALUATOR. He’s not crawling around on the ground babbling for the teat.

 

FRANCES. Everyone reacts differently. (She gestures with her bracelet.) Wanna give it a shot? 

 

EVALUATOR. Oh, God, no.

 

FRANCES. You’d think for all the times you’ve done this, you would’ve tried the procedure yourself. 

 

EVALUATOR. Oh, no, not for me. I don’t want to die. 

 

FRANCES. Not even once?

 

EVALUATOR. Maybe one day. If it goes vogue, and I’m old enough, maybe I’ll figure why not. But for now, I like being the one to flip the switch.

 

FRANCES. Scratches an itch?

 

EVALUATOR. (Agreeing.) Scratches an itch. Would you like to go under again, Mr. Datz?

 

MEL. I don’t feel I can want…yes, please.

 

EVALUATOR. Very well.

 

    The Evaluator flips the switch on Remote 1. Electricity.

Mel collapses.

 

FRANCES. Sayonara!

 

    The Evaluator flips the switch on Remote 2. Electricity.

Frances collapses.

 

EVALUATOR. One Mississippi, two Mississippi - (She trails off. She moves Mel’s body over and sits on the couch.) Terrible for my back. (She yawns, stretching.) Have either of you ever felt like you left an oven on? Like you just can’t remember something important…something you were supposed to do or be doing or -

 

Her eyes widen. She puts Remote 1 and Remote 2 on the table and reaches into  her pocket. She retrieves a third remote. She exits in a haste. Brief pause. She reenters, flips the switches on Remotes 1 & 2, then exits. Electricity. Frances and Mel snap to life.

 

FRANCES. That felt long. Was that long? (Brief pause.) Mel?

Melvin?

 

MEL. I came to another understanding, I think.

 

FRANCES. Save it for her, okay?

 

MEL. Why? Is she writing this down?

 

FRANCES. I don’t think she was, no. Where’s she gone anyhow?

 

MEL. Out and away. To the woman.

 

FRANCES. The woman?

 

MEL. Yes.

 

FRANCES. Which woman?

 

MEL. The only one.

 

FRANCES. Your mother?

 

MEL. She might as well be. The screaming woman. 

 

FRANCES. The one screaming from earlier?

 

MEL. The only one.

 

FRANCES. How do you know that’s where she is?

 

MEL. That’s the only other person here. I saw her, you know.

In the waiting room. She looked upset. I smiled at her. She didn’t smile back. Could’ve sworn I recognized her but she didn’t seem to know who I was. That’s alright. I’m just a face. Just a face among millions of faces. Easy to forget. (He holds up the picture frame.) Who is this?

 

FRANCES.  I couldn’t tell you. 

 

MEL. I think I’m going to keep this.

 

FRANCES. I don’t know if you can keep - 

 

MEL. (Flatly.) I’m going to keep the goddamn picture, Frances.

 

FRANCES. Sure thing.

 

MEL. When do I leave?

 

FRANCES. When the procedure’s done.

 

MEL. When’s that?

 

FRANCES. Well, I don’t know. Some people go under three times, sometimes four. Most of the time, it’s only once and they can’t convince them to do it more. Most people never come back.

 

MEL. Can I walk out that door right now?

 

FRANCES. No. (Brief pause. Mel stands and crosses to the door. He jiggles the handle but it’s locked.) I said no.

 

MEL. It’s locked.

 

FRANCES. I know it is, they lock automatically from the outside.

 

MEL. Why?

 

FRANCES. Why? I don’t know why. Just come back and sit down. You’re being a buzzkill. Why are you acting like this?

 

MEL. I don’t know. 

 

FRANCES. I thought you’d be a little more…I don’t know, jazzed?

 

MEL. Jazzed? No, I am not jazzed. Would you like this room?

 

FRANCES. What?

 

MEL. You said earlier that you couldn’t find your own room. Would you like this one?

 

FRANCES. This is your room, though.

 

MEL. It can be yours. I don’t want it. I don’t think I ever even lived here.

 

FRANCES. Of course you did. You said this was basically your living room.

 

MEL. Am I still Melvin Datz?

 

FRANCES. Sure you are, for whatever that’s worth.

 

MEL. I’d like you to have this room. I don’t think I’ll be coming back.