by Mike Ashley
“Cynthia, what is your problem out there?”
“Doctor, there are just so many of them, I can’t—”
“I’ll be out there in just a minute, Cynthia, once Sammy and I are through. Ah, this is getting us nowhere, Sammy. Your fantasy is even more deeply ingrained than I’d thought. Bringing up your past may only make your obsessions worse. Let’s try something else, okay, Sammy? You will soon awaken. And when you do, your fantasies of being at the centre of the universe will be gone. Galileo cured the Catholic church and I shall cure you. You will no longer feel this life-threatening paranoia. You will no longer feel chased by demons. This insanity will be abandoned, and you will be able to have a productive life, settle down, hold a job. Do you hear me, Sammy?”
“Yes, doctor.”
“When I snap my fingers, you will snap out of your trance, feeling very refreshed. Feeling like a new man. For indeed you will be a new man. Your problems will be but memory, your fears will be but dream. You are coming out of your trance, your trance is ending . . . now!”
“Yawn! Sorry about that, Doctor Friedlander. I guess I must have fallen asleep.”
“Don’t worry about it, Sammy. I know how comfortable the couch is. I’ve napped on it myself. But the important question is, how do you feel, Sammy?”
“How should I feel, doctor?”
“Dare I say, rested?”
“Maybe, doctor, maybe.”
“Dare I say, refreshed.”
“Maybe, doctor. Maybe.”
“Dare I say . . . cured?”
“Hmmm.”
“Hmmm?”
“Cured? Why – yes! I do feel different. I no longer feel a shadow behind me. Thank you, doctor! I feel like a new man. How can I ever thank you enough?”
“Are those tears in your eyes, Sammy? I’m touched. Just sign a few forms on the way out, and that will be thanks enough. I’ve left them with Cynthia. Nothing major, just a release giving me publication rights in your case. It’s a standard procedure, but in this case I will accept it as a . . . token gesture on your part.”
“Anything, doctor. I am so happy! I’ll go sign right now.”
“Sammy, Sammy, Sammy. There’s no rush. Sit back down. Have a drink. Are you sure you have to be going so soon?”
“Doctor!”
“What? What did I say? Did I say something wrong?”
“For a moment . . . you actually had me believing it. See you later, Doctor Friedlander.”
“Wait, Sammy! Get away from the door! Don’t leave yet!”
“Sammy!”
“Yea, Sammy!”
“It feels like we’ve been waiting for ever.”
“What took you?
“Oh, no!”
“Honestly, Sammy, I don’t know where they all came from.”
“That’s all right, Cynthia.”
“They started marching in here with their signs not ten minutes ago. At first they started dribbling in in threes and fours, but now, now they can’t all fit in here! And there are even more out in the hall. The doorman called just a moment ago to complain that they have all the stairways blocked.”
“Sammy, here, have some soup, there’s only a sip left, but it’s all yours! See, I saved it all for you!”
“Sammy, here, take my miniature of the Vatican. See, this one has a built-in microscope!”
“Sammy, I was right, wasn’t I? Don’t I know how to organize a rally? Didn’t the signs add a perfect touch?”
“Sammy, boy, this even beats out the old games of tag!”
“Sammy!”
“Sammy!”
“Sammy!”
“Arrggghh!”
“Sammy, what are you doing?”
“I can’t face these people any longer! If I have to spend one more minute with them I’ll have a complete nervous breakdown, I know I will.”
“But, Sammy, not the window—”
“I’ve just got to get away from these maniacs. The fire escape is the fastest way out. Apologize to the doctor for me. I didn’t mean to leave an army in his office.”
“But, Sammy—”
“Don’t worry, Cynthia. See, I’m shutting the window behind me. Maybe I’ll see you again sometime. Too bad it wouldn’t do us any good.”
“Sammy, there is no fire escape out there!”
“Uh-oh.”
“Sammy, come back inside – if not for yourself, think of the great trip to China we’re going to take next year.”
“Sammy, I thought you were going to let Herb and me help you pick out more chairs for you. Our treat.”
“Sammy, how can you leave your friends all alone in here?”
“You’re not my friends!”
“Come on inside, Sammy. The ledge is only eight inches wide.”
“I can’t, Cynthia. I can’t move.”
“You mean you won’t move.”
“No, I mean I can’t. The thought of going back into the mob again . . . it just paralyzes me. I need some peace, and this is where I’m going to get it. You can shut the window again, Cynthia. I’m just going to sit here where it’s quiet. Looking out in the still, near-deserted streets . . . I can imagine for at least a moment that I am part of that solitude.”
“Look – there’s some nut up on a ledge!”
“A jumper!”
“Don’t do it! It can’t be that bad!”
“Jump! Jump!”
“What are you, a moron? Don’t say that!”
“Hey! He’s the fool on the ledge!”
“Don’t worry, fella. Help is on the way. What’s your name?”
“Ummm . . . this isn’t exactly what I intended.”
“Don’t do it!”
“This is the police – stay calm. I repeat. Stay calm.”
“Go away.”
“You’re creating quite a circus down here. How about coming down and letting these good people go on their way? There is no reason for you to hurt yourself.”
“Get those helicopters out of here! I’m not planning to hurt myself!”
“Then what are you doing on the ledge?”
“I’m trying to get a moment by myself – leave me alone!”
“Sammy, here, move over a bit and let me get out there with you.”
“George, no.”
“Yeah, Sammy, you shouldn’t be out here all by yourself. It must be lonely.”
“Er, guys, I don’t think this ledge can hold all of us. Guys?”
“Sammy!”
“Sammy!”
“Sammy!”
“This is the police again. I don’t know how you did it, fella, but you can’t kill yourself – there are hundreds of your friends down here, hoping for you to live.”
“Oh, my God. They’re there, they’re all there. I want to live! Leave me alone.”
“I’m afraid I can’t do that. I’m a police officer. The others may just be freelancers, but I get paid not to leave you alone. I can’t go.”
“You can’t go! They can’t go! No one can go!”
“Now, don’t get yourself worked up. It can’t be that bad.”
“What do you know?”
“Hey, up there! Isn’t your name Sammy?”
“Sammy! The soup! The soup!”
“Sammy, don’t do anything rash until I get your autograph.”
“Sammy, remember me?”
“Sammy, I still haven’t given you the Stonehenge paper-weight!”
“Sammy!”
“Sammy!”
“Sammy!”
“Sammy, before you jump, sign these papers! We’ll make psychiatric history together!”
“Sammy, don’t do anything you’ll regret. Janet’s got a lot of single girlfriends – maybe you’d like one of them. We could double date.”
“Sammy, one more game of tag! Just one more!”
“Sammy, your problem is that you spend too much time by yourself.”
“Yeah, you have too much time to think. You should get out more.”
“Let’s”
“What’s playing?”
“How about—”
“Why not—”
“I know a theatre downtown with great popcorn!”
“Wait! We’re doing this for Sammy after all. Let Sammy decide where he wants us all to go!”
“Sammy!”
“Sammy!”
“Tell us! Tell us!”
“Choose, Sammy, choose!”
“Tell us where to go!”
“Sammy!”
“I can’t take this any more! PLEASE! GET! OUT! OF! MY! LIFE!”
“Well . . .”
“Okay, Sammy.”
“Bye.”
“If that’s what you really want.”
“See you later.”
“Excuse me, Sammy, you’re blocking the window.”
“Wait – what are you all doing?”
“Why, we’re going, Sammy. Just like you asked us to so nicely.”
“If you really wanted us to go, you should have told us before. None of us want to hang around if we’re being a bother to you, Sammy.”
“But I’ve been telling you to go for years! I’ve been spending my entire life telling you to go. I’ve been—”
“You never said please before.”
“I never said . . .”
“You have terrible manners, Sammy. We’ve been telling you about them for years.”
“Please?”
“Your only flaw. Who knew to believe you?”
“Please. I never said please.”
“He’s right, Sammy. All you ever had to do was ask.”
“Yeah, we would never have wanted you to think we were pushy.”
“Please. Please. Please. Oh, my God. Please. I’m free. Thank you! Thank you, world! They’re gone. They’re all gone. As soon as I get down from here I can begin to live! The first thing I’m going to do is—Uh-oh. The window. It’s stuck. Hello? Anybody? Can you come and unjam this thing? Cynthia? George? Herb? Come on, is anybody there? Guys? Where the hell is everybody? Please? Please!”
“Well, if that’s really the way you feel about it.”
“We’re back!”
“Ummm . . . I didn’t quite mean that.”
“Here, I can wedge the window open with my Prado letter opener.”
“Thanks, guys, but you didn’t all have to come back. Now get lost – please?”
“You didn’t really believe all that please stuff, did you? Not when I still have soup for you.”
“We’d never leave you, Sammy. We were just trying to cheer you up.”
“But—”
“Yeah, we were just joking!”
“April Fools!”
“But this is October, damn it!”
“April Fools!”
“No!”
“April Fools!”
“Please – leave me alone!”
“April Fools!”
“I can’t take this any more!”
“Oh, no!”
“Look out! He jumped!”
“Someone catch him!
“The net! Get the net under him!”
“SPLAT!”
“Uh-oh.”
“Er – Sammy?”
“Come on, Sammy, get up! The night’s early yet.”
“Sammy!”
“A fine time to take a nap!”
“I don’t think he’s going to get up.”
“Maybe he’s just tired.”
“Yeah, that’s it. What’s left of the hot-and-sour soup will perk him up, though.”
“I guess he’s not thirsty. It’s just dribbling down his chin.”
“Ingrate!”
“Sammy just doesn’t know how to treat his friends.”
“Wasn’t that always the way.”
“Let’s get out of here, everyone – I think we’ve humoured him long enough.”
“I don’t think I ever liked him much in the first place.”
“Gee, George – since Sammy doesn’t seem to want it, would you like this Albert Hall egg timer?”
“Aw, shucks, Ernie – thanks. You know something? It’s at times like these when you learn who your real friends are.”
