maskormenace | Blend #4

[Godot sits on the sofa in the living room of his new apartment. The room is bare except for a few small boxes, and a coffee table in front of him on which the communicator is resting. Something like 12 white coffee cups are scattered around the table's surface.]

Indulge me in a parable, my Imported amigos.

[You don't really get a choice, it seems, as he is all ready to go. It's time for Morality, Philosophy and Coffee Talk with Godot.]

There once was a doctor who lived in a small, peaceful town. He was very successful, and often called to other nearby villages to care for the people there.

The doctor returned from a long journey one day to find the door to his home left open. When he went inside, to his horror, he found his family, dead, all the victims of murder. He caught a glimpse of a man fleeing through the back window with a bag of valuables. The doctor gave chase, but could the man escaped into the woods. There were no other witnesses, and the doctor was left alone with nothing but his grief.

[He pauses for a slow, savored sip of the coffee in his mug. For a moment, it almost seems he's forgotten about the story, so concerned is he with the coffee. Just when it starts to become an awkward silence, he continues.]

The doctor left his home to continue his traveling practice, haunted by what had happened to his family. Years passed, and he finally felt able to move on with his life.

One day, he was working the back lines of a battlefield. The camp was small, and he was the only doctor working. A cry came out from one of the nurses, and the doctor rushed to help. A patient needed surgery, quickly, in order to live.

But when the doctor saw the face of the man lying unconscious in the bed, he recognized him. It was the same man he had seen fleeing from his home the day his family had died. Here, a man who had made a vow to save lives held in his hands the life of a man who may have committed the ultimate personal wrong against him.

His oath and his livelihood bind him to save this man. However, he could also do nothing-- or alternatively, twist the scalpel in his hands a little too far to the left or right, press a little too hard, and watch him die.

[Godot gives this part a long, dramatic pause as he finishes off the last of his mug.]

That's the end of the story. But the answer depends on the listener.

So tell me. Does the doctor save his life, or not?

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[He's just silent at that. Suspiciously so.]

She took everything, Mia. Even my career.

[And Mia feels her heart plummet at those words.]

No she hasn't.

Yes, she did. Look what I am now that she's done with me.

She took the one thing I never thought I'd have to question keeping.

I am looking Diego.

[Her voice is soft. Sad.]

You're still here. You're still you. She hasn't taken that.

[Silence, again.]

I don't really want to talk about this.

[OF COURSE NOT.]

Baby... I really think you need to.

I don't. It's fine.

[Yeah. That's believable.]

No. It's not.

[She looks devastated.]

You're not, are you?

[He has no idea how to answer that. In fact, he's halfway tempted to just hang up.]

No.

I'll be right there.

Okay.

[Then he does hang up, and engrosses himself in his coffee.]

[She's there ten minutes later.

Diego's been working there long enough and getting visits from Mia that she's greeted with a nod and a smile and she proceeds straight to her boyfriend's office without having to ask.]

Hey.

[He's sitting at his desk. There are an unusual amount of coffee cups sitting on it, even for him.]

Hey.

[She takes in the sight of all the coffee cups and her surprisingly reticent significant other sitting amongst them.

The sight makes her chest hurt.]

Come here.

[He hesitates, but only for a moment. Then it takes him a little effort to stand, a fact that's not lost on him and that fills him with disgust.

Once he's on his feet, he doesn't waste too much time in getting to her, carefully putting his arms around her as they draw close.]

[Mia wraps her arms around him and holds him as best she can, pressing her cheek to his chest and closing her eyes as she breathes in. She can feel his heart beating beneath her ear.]

[He keeps her held tight there, finally taking a slow breath.]

I should be better than this.

Says who?

[She makes no move to readjust herself, though she does stroke his back.]

There were no rules about this last time I checked.

Says me, Mia. I say so.

Then you need to stop being so hard on yourself.

It isn't that simple.

[Frustration leeches into his tone, and he holds her all the tighter.]

If it was, I'd be stronger than this.

Hey, don't you tell me that you're not strong.

[It's a struggle to get out of his grip, but she does so and reaches up to take his face in her hands.]

You are so much stronger than you give yourself credit for, baby, and I don't think you realize that.

[He seems content to let her hands settle on his face, and beneath the visor, his eyes close.]

I don't feel strong. I feel pathetic.

Ever since I opened my eyes...

You opened your eyes. You came back. I know you don't think that means much but it does. You were so sick-

[She catches herself before she says more; she knows how much he hates to be reminded of that time and telling him that there was a time she was scared to leave his bedside in case he slipped away while she was gone will accomplish nothing now.]

You're strong, Diego. We've just got to help you see that.

I'm still sick, Mia. I never got better.

[Of course, that's bull... he's gotten a lot better. Miraculously so. But that's hard to put in perspective when his entire self-image is based on a man who lived in his prime six years ago, now.]

The doctors all said the same thing. But I can't see it.

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