Chris: Poor man. I guess I'm going to miss you too. In ... No, of course there is no such place as hell. I am already in hell right now. But I'll miss you all the same. Sometimes I really and truly wonder why it has to happen to us. What hideous crimes have we committed to deserve this instalmental agonising death? So many questions I want to ask God. So many questions I want to ask Him. But I know He does not exist. So these questions remain but questions in my mind. Like the cancer cells growing in me, these questions continue to grow abnormally, bloating and disfiguring my mind, engendering euphoria, horror and madness. But how could such a little thing as that cause such a great damage? How could such a small thing cause so much pain, so much terror, so much tears, so much blood; so much death? How could such a little bastard knock The Bull out? So I continue to wonder endlessly why it has to be me. I wonder so much I feel myself going mad, losing my mind. Yet I must not give in. I must continue...
James begins to murmur stealthily in his sleep. Soon it grows into a quick and blood-chilling tirade.
James (nightmarishly): Stay away from me. Don't touch me! I don't want to die. Oh! Take your long arms away from my bones. Get away from me. Get away! Leave me alone!
(He begins to scream frantically. Chris, visibly terrified, runs to him and holds him down soothingly).
Chris: Stop it James. Stop it! It's just a dream. Come on now, sleep. Sleep.
James holds unto his arms desperately. Soon he calms down and begins to sleep peacefully and deeply. Chris is distraught. He goes back to his bed and sits dejectedly, brooding. There is a knock on the door. Chris does not respond. Dr. Linda Jakut, a pretty woman in her early thirties, comes in cheerfully. She has an easy lovable carriage and confidence.
Linda: Good morning to you Mr. Dawan. How do you feel today? I hope you slept well.
(Chris looks up at her but returns to his brooding attitude).
Linda (examining the chart board): My, I get the message loud and clear. You are in one of those murderous moods again. That does not help, you know.
Chris (contemptuously): What helps, Doctor?
Linda: For a start you could cheer up and stop brooding. That surely helps.
Chris: Thanks for the advice. Talk is cheap when you are not the one in anguish. You afford the luxury of philosophy when the pain is another’s.
Linda: Maybe the pain is not entirely another’s. Maybe I also share your pain in a manner you do not understand. Maybe I am just an actor. Maybe, maybe. Life is full of that …
(Chris looks at her quizzically. She returns the board and proceeds to examine James’ medical Chart).
Chris: Go on. Another man’s pain is another woman’s philosophy.
Linda: Maybe you are right. Maybe you are wrong. Maybe we are both right; or both wrong. Maybe… Anyway, let's change the subject. Did Mr. Ebo sleep well?
Chris: Are you so dumb you can't see I am not in the mood for any subject at all? Philosophy or sociology; I am in no mood for giving or taking a lecture. I just want to be left alone.
Linda: My God, I knew it. Lively up Mr. Dawan. I've been trying to get through to you - to get you to relax. But you shut everyone out. Your cynicism ... your arrogance. Your psychological attitude is wrong. You are not doing yourself any good if you continue this way, you know.
Chris: Philosophy, sociology; now psychology. Thank you doctor. I've heard your advice. If you have finished all that you are here for could I ask to be left alone? I have some thinking to do. Alone.
Linda: Always some thinking to do. You want to hide behind that don't you? You want to hide the fact that you are human. But it's not a shame to be human. It's not a shame to admit your fears, your nightmares. I know what is happening, you know. I am a doctor, remember.
Chris: Get out!
Linda: Why do you despise everyone? Why do you think that you are the only who knows pain? You make your case worse by so doing. No one is without pain. We are all in one pain or another. You have to come to terms with that or else the pain gets ...
Chris: So what happens if I fail to come to terms with that? What happens if the pain gets…? My death becomes swifter? Who cares? I'm going to die soon enough. You have not said it categorically but I'm not as dumb as I look. That's what really makes me hate you lot. Your impersonality and cheerful attitude and... Because you are a doctor you think you know everything; and your patients know nothing; not even their own bodies. But I'm the one who feels it. I'm the one who knows it.
Linda: So why are you here if you hate doctors so much?
Chris: I'll be damned if I know. It seemed the natural thing to do: 'when you are ill go see a doctor.' But what's the use now? It seems there's little this doctor can do for me.
Linda: Do not be too sure, Mr. Dawan.
Chris: I'm too sure, Dr. Jakut. And right now I am very sure I want to be left alone.
Linda: Why do you act so? Why are you always tensed? Well, let me tell you Mr. Dawan, there's a lot we can do for you...
Chris: Don't tell me nothing. I'm not interested. Just go away.
Linda: Mr. Dawan, why do you carry on so? Can't you see I'm human too? Doctors are...
Chris (agitatedly): Can't you leave me alone for once? I want to rest in peace. All my life I've been fighting. Now that I've come to the end of the road you refuse to leave me alone. I'm tired of fighting can't you see? Just leave me alone!
(Linda looks at him empathetically. There's a brief pause during which James stirs on the bed).
Chris (softly): Well, I want to rest ... If you don't mind...
Chukwuma Okoye teaches African Theatre and Dance/Choreography in the Department of Theatre Arts, University of Ibadan, Nigeria. He has written a number of plays, most of which have been performed at the Arts Theatre of the University of Ibadan. His only published play We the Beast won the ANA Drama Prize in 1991. He has also published a collection of stories entitled The Paradox of Being.
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