Kill Me Now Page 4

  JAKE:

  Was it okay?

  ROBYN:

  It verged on great.

  JAKE:

  Good thing I’m seeing my doc so much these days.

  ROBYN:

  What’s happening?

  JAKE:

  Do you have an idea how old it makes you feel to go for an MRI in a nearly empty hospital at three a.m.? They do that now because there are so many of us—continuous twenty-four-hour medical testing.

  ROBYN:

  That must be terrible for your sleep cycle.

  JAKE:

  I just dreamed about Joey but he wasn’t disabled. He was tall and perfect and very smart. He was saying something about me having a tail.

  ROBYN:

  You’ve both got big things on your minds.

  JAKE:

  Like his boner.

  ROBYN:

  Exactly.

  JAKE:

  He doesn’t want any of the options the Services offers.

  ROBYN:

  They do that?

  JAKE:

  Yeah.

  ROBYN:

  At his age?

  JAKE:

  Sexual feelings don’t start at eighteen. He feels so ugly and he is so misshapen—but I—I just hate thinking about the things he’ll never experience.

  ROBYN:

  Are you considering—?

  JAKE:

  No.

  ROBYN:

  I know most people wouldn’t understand—

  JAKE:

  Don’t.

  ROBYN:

  Horrible to consider.

  JAKE:

  Beyond.

  ROBYN:

  But still—

  JAKE:

  Please.

  ROBYN:

  You wipe him after shitting—hold his dick for him when he pisses—clean his foreskin—is a quick hand job really that different?

  JAKE:

  If it were one of your sons would you do it?

  ROBYN:

  Not if he was straight. That’s too dangerous. I’d get his father to do it. But if he was gay I’d do it.

  JAKE:

  I’m not—does that make sense?

  ROBYN:

  If the child’s too attracted it can take on unnecessarily erotic overtones. But when the parent and child have the same orientation it really isn’t that much more intimate than the many intimate things you do with him already.

  JAKE:

  I just—I can’t—

  ROBYN:

  Because it’s sexual?

  JAKE:

  Yes!

  ROBYN:

  Pent up sexual desire does horrible things to men.

  JAKE:

  But I—I—I—I can’t—can’t jack—masturbate my son. I can’t. It steps over too many lines. And if anyone found out—they could arrest me for child abuse incest—whatever. They could take Joey away.

  ROBYN:

  These are exceptional circumstances Jake.

  JAKE:

  I’m never quite sure what Joey’s incapable of doing and what he just doesn’t want to do himself.

  ROBYN:

  That comes from being a teenager.

  JAKE:

  Am I a terrible parent because I can’t masturbate my disabled son?

  ROBYN:

  No. And we have to go.

  JAKE:

  Good night.

  ROBYN:

  You were great.

  They kiss. JAKE exits as the lights rise on a park. ROWDY is walking with JOEY.

  ROWDY:

  Look at the way the light’s hittin’ the water in the fountain. It’s like shafts of diamonds or shit.

  JOEY:

  Hush muh ush. (Hurts my eyes.)

  ROWDY:

  Where’s your cap bro?

  JOEY:

  Muh casp ih muh pug. (My cap’s in my pack.)

  ROWDY:

  Gotcha.

  JOEY:

  Huhup. Ih huhs. (Hurry up. It hurts.)

  ROWDY:

  Calm down Jerusalem.

  JOEY:

  Cuh uh! Huhup. (Come on! Hurry up.)

  ROWDY gets the cap from the pack and puts it on JOEY as he speaks.

  ROWDY:

  There ya go.

  JOEY:

  Sankoo.

  ROWDY:

  You an’ me could do this every day bud.

  JOEY:

  Wah?

  ROWDY:

  Hang out. A nice long walk—maybe a movie or a Megadeth concert or something.

  JOEY:

  Mayahduh ih plang?! (Megadeth is playing?!)

  ROWDY:

  I mean if they like came to town. If you had your own place. With me.

  JOEY:

  Uh yuh.

  ROWDY:

  You talked to your dad right?

  Pause.

  Joe!

  JOEY:

  Eeh muh dah. Ee dun wun muh tah guh. (He’s my dad. He doesn’t want me to go.)

  ROWDY:

  That’s what he says but he’s not getting any tail till you’re out of the house bud.

  JOEY:

  Weewee? (Really?)

  ROWDY:

  Ladies don’t fuck men with kids let alone fucked-up kids.

  JOEY:

  Ee dunoh sum weewah wuwud abud susk. (He doesn’t seem very worried about sex.)

  ROWDY:

  All guys want sex.

  JOEY’s tablet buzzes. He stabs a button.

  JOEY:

  Dah!

  JAKE is heard from the tablet.

  JAKE:

  Where are you?

  JOEY:

  Dugwuh pah. (Dogwood Park.)

  JAKE:

  You didn’t get off the school bus.

  JOEY:

  Ih wuh nie. Wuh wunnah tah wah. (It was nice. We wanted to walk.)

  ROWDY:

  We’re just around the corner Mr. Sturdy.

  JAKE:

  You’re supposed to call—

  JOEY:

  Ah fuguh. (I forgot.)

  ROWDY:

  I can see you from here.

  JAKE

  : Where?

  ROWDY waves.

  ROWDY:

  Right here.

  JOEY:

  Buh Dah.

  JOEY disconnects from the phone just as JAKE enters, putting away his communications device.

  JAKE:

  What were you thinking?

  ROWDY:

  It’s so sunny and Joe wanted to walk.

  JAKE:

  If you’d called—

  JOEY:

  Ah fuhguh! (I forgot!)

  ROWDY:

  I gotta fat snatch I gotta report to. I’ll call you tomorrow Joe.

  JOEY:

  Oh tesk muh. (Or text me.)

  ROWDY:

  Remember.

  JOEY:

  Yuh.

  ROWDY:

  Goodbye Mr. Sturdy.

  JAKE:

  Bye now.

  ROWDY shakes JAKE’s hand firmly, hugs JOEY, and exits.

  How was school?

  JOEY:

  Ah had ih. Ah ahwuz had ih. (I hate it. I always hate it.)

  JAKE:

  It’s never been your thing.

  JOEY:

  Zih juz peepuh don shuh wiv dah hunsh. (It’s just people doing shit with their hands.)

  JAKE:

  And their brains. You
have to use your brain.

  JOEY:

  (brandishes his tablet at JAKE) Mujuh Wums hups muh bwen. (Magic Worms helps my brain.)

  JAKE:

  It’s just a few more months.

  JOEY:

  Ah dah wah? (And then what?)

  JAKE:

  You’ll still have physical therapy three times a week and there are some special courses I’ve been looking into—

  JOEY:

  Wuh kanah cusush? (What kinda courses?)

  JAKE:

  There’s a computer course designed for people with special physical needs—

  JOEY:

  Muh skuh? (More school?)

  JAKE:

  Well what would you like to do when you’re finished school?

  JOEY:

  Ah wunuh muh owd. (I want to move out.)

  JAKE:

  What?

  JOEY:

  Wowdee un ah. Wuh cuh geh ah pash tahgeda. (Rowdy and I. We could get a place together.)

  JAKE:

  Rowdy could never take care of you.

  JOEY:

  Yuh wuh duh hup uf duh Suhvashush. (Yes with the help of the Services.)

  JAKE:

  But you have our house and your own room and everything set up to help you.

  JOEY:

  Tuh Suhvash hah ah plah luh thuh. (The Services has a place like that.)

  JAKE:

  Buddy the Services isn’t the magical helper you and Rowdy think it is. Without my salary our lives would be much harder. We can barely meet our needs right now. And who’s going to shop and pay the bills and run out for medications—?

  JOEY:

  Wowdee.

  JAKE:

  Joey why do you want to leave home?

  JOEY:

  Wowdee shesh wuh kun fun ah ply— (Rowdy says we can find a place—)

  JAKE:

  I don’t care what Rowdy says. I need to know why you want to leave me.

  Pause.

  Joey?

  JOEY:

  Uh wuh tuh buh lah nohmuh pupuh. (I want to be like normal people.)

  JAKE:

  I understand that. But—

  JOEY:

  Uh duh wunuh lub wiv yuh fuhufuh Dah. (I don’t wanna live with you forever Dad.)

  Long pause.

  JAKE:

  Let’s talk about it again when you graduate.

  JOEY:

  Nuh.

  JAKE:

  Joey.

  JOEY:

  Ah wun yuh tah teh muh ah cuh mub owd nuh. (I want you to tell me I can move out now.)

  JAKE:

  We’ll talk about it later.

  JOEY:

  Nuh!

  JAKE:

  What’s the deal?

  JOEY:

  Yuh azah tuh muh wuh dah dew! (You always tell me what to do!)

  JAKE:

  I’m your dad. That’s my job.

  JOEY:

  Onuh fuh unudah yuh. (Only for another year.)

  JAKE:

  Let’s just head home.

  JOEY:

  Fuh yuh! (Fuck you!)

  JAKE:

  Don’t talk to me like that.

  JOEY:

  Ah gon muh owd uh muh und und ooh cah sop muh! (I’m gonna move out on my own and you can’t stop me!)

  JAKE:

  You’re acting like a child.

  JOEY:

  Nuh ah nud. (No I’m not.)

  JAKE grabs JOEY’s chair. JOEY tries to move away.

  JAKE:

  You’re not going anywhere.

  JOEY:

  Yuh uh fuhuh ashuh! (You’re a fucking asshole!)

  JAKE:

  Joey stop—

  JOEY lashes out hard with his arm, striking JAKE across the chest. JAKE falls to the ground, onto his back, very hard. He screams in agony.

  JOEY:

  Dah!

  JAKE:

  Jesus fucking son of a bitch!

  JOEY:

  Dah.

  JAKE:

  Shitty slutbag whore!

  JOEY:

  Wuh ih uh?

  JAKE:

  Oh my fucking god! Oh fuck!

  JOEY hits the emergency number on his pad. A woman’s voice is heard from the pad.

  VOICE:

  Emergency services. Your present location and number have been entered into the system. What is the nature of your emergency please?

  JOEY:

  Sumush wan wiv muh dah! (Something’s wrong with my dad.)

  VOICE:

  I beg your pardon?

  JAKE screams.

  JOEY:

  Seh uh albumas. (Send an ambulance.)

  VOICE:

  Sir are you drunk?

  JOEY:

  Nuh! Muh dah ih hud. (No! My dad is hurt.)

  VOICE:

  I can’t understand what you’re saying.

  JOEY:

  Ah cuh tah ruh. (I can’t talk right.)

  VOICE:

  Please repeat.

  JOEY:

  (with great effort) Am-bu-last!

  VOICE:

  You need an ambulance?

  JOEY:

  Yuh!

  VOICE:

  An ambulance has been dispatched. Please stay on the line. Does anyone need CPR or emergency care?

  JOEY:

  Yuh! Ebuhwuh! (Yes! Everyone!)

  JAKE moans in agony. Blackout. A light rises on ROBYN in the sex apartment. She checks the time and moves to the window, looking out. Her communication device sounds.

  ROBYN:

  Jake? Where are you?

  JAKE:

  The hospital.

  ROBYN:

  What?

  JAKE:

  Saint Something.

  ROBYN:

  Are you okay?

  A light rises on JAKE in his hospital room. He’s dressed to go home.

  JAKE:

  It’s called spinal stenosis.

  ROBYN:

  I’ve never heard of that.

  JAKE:

  It’s fairly common in the elderly but seems to be hitting me sooner than usual. Basically there are bone spurs growing into my spinal column and cutting off the nerves to other parts of my body.

  ROBYN:

  What causes it?

  JAKE:

  They don’t really know. It’s distributed pretty evenly throughout my spine—it’s doing something to my arms and legs and it affects my brain stem as well.

  ROBYN:

  I’ll google it. Are you going to be okay?

  JAKE:

  Of course.

  ROBYN:

  Jake—

  TWYLA and JOEY enter.

  JAKE:

  I’ve got to go. I’ll call you when I can.

  ROBYN:

  Please.

  JAKE:

  Sorry.

  JAKE hangs up. The light on ROBYN goes out.

  TWYLA:

  Is there a lot of pain?

  JAKE:

  Yes. A lot.

  TWYLA:

  Painkillers?

  JAKE:

  Mega.

  TWYLA:

  They can fix it right?

  JAKE:

  Joey why don’t you go out to the nurse’s station and ask her for the bag with my valuables in it?

  JOEY:

  Dah buh? (The bag?)

  JAKE:

  At the end of the hall.

  JOEY:

&nbs
p; Ruh. (Right.)

  JAKE:

  Thank you.

  JOEY exits.

  He isn’t going to take long so please just listen to me. No one seems to know exactly what this thing is going to do to me and how fast it’s going to do it. It could be serious.

  TWYLA:

  There must be other options—holistic treatments. Homeopathy. Acupuncture.

  JAKE:

  Witch doctors? Yoga instructors. No. The science is pretty clear on this one.

  TWYLA

  : Times like this I wish we believed in god.

  JAKE:

  Wouldn’t change a thing.

  TWYLA:

  Could it be fatal?

  JAKE:

  No. Just debilitating.

  TWYLA:

  Thankfully.

  JAKE:

  Yes. The thought of Joey being on his own—

  TWYLA:

  Jake I wouldn’t let that happen.

  Pause.

  JAKE:

  We were fighting. He pushed me.

  TWYLA:

  Why were you fighting?

  JAKE

  : He wants to move into an assisted-living apartment with Rowdy.

  TWYLA:

  What?

  JAKE:

  I won’t be able to care for him the same way.

  TWYLA:

  So what—Joey moves in with a pervert and you—lie in bed and cry?

  JAKE:

  If I can’t take care of myself the Services will send someone who can.

  TWYLA:

  Jake the government has hacked the Services to the bone. There’s no other help—

  JAKE:

  Twyla—

  JOEY enters with a gym bag containing JAKE’s things.

  JOEY:

  Gud hum. (Got them.)

  JAKE:

  Thanks son. We can go home now.

  JOEY:

  Yuh suh yuh hokah? (You’re sure you’re okay?)

  JAKE:

  Yes.

  TWYLA:

  I’ll take the suitcase. Can you walk?

  JAKE:

  Short distances aren’t such a problem.

  JOEY:

  Hun unuh muh chuh. (Hang onto my chair.)

  JAKE:

  (hanging onto the chair) Excellent idea.

  JOEY:

  Un Tuhluh tuh hus otruh ahm. (Aunt Twyla take his other arm.)

  TWYLA assists JAKE.

  TWYLA:

  Got him.

  JOEY:

  Lush guh hum. (Let’s go home.)

  A light rises on ROBYN on her communications device in the sex apartment.

  ROBYN:

  Hey sorry. I know you’re sick—not sick—disabled—wounded—whatever. I’m actually calling from Anastasia’s. I keep coming here Tuesdays. I don’t know why. Probably should’ve actually learned to play bridge. Ha ha. I dreamed about you. We were married and had cherubic red devil children in diapers with little pitchforks. It was quite wonderful. I miss you Jake. I hope you’re well. Call me. Whenever you can.