Mindgame (6 page)

STYLER: May I have another cigarette?

FARQUHAR: Help yourself.

STYLER takes out his crumpled ten-cigarette packet and opens it. He takes out a cigarette and lights it.

Is that better?

STYLER: Yes.

A pause. STYLER smokes.

FARQUHAR: If you were to meet Easterman…

STYLER: What?

FARQUHAR: You wouldn't be afraid of him?

STYLER: Afraid of him?

FARQUHAR: Yes.

STYLER: Should I be? Is he still dangerous?

FARQUHAR: He's unpredictable.

STYLER: Unpredictable.

FARQUHAR: Which can be very dangerous indeed.

STYLER: Well, you'll get some security…

FARQUHAR: Not at this time of night. Security will have gone home.

STYLER: What about Borson?

FARQUHAR: He's on the gate.

STYLER: Maybe I could meet Easterman in his cell.

FARQUHAR: Both of you in his cell?

STYLER: Him in his cell. Me outside.

FARQUHAR: It's sound-proofed. The walls are two-foot thick.

STYLER: Oh. (
Pause
.) Could you restrain him?

FARQUHAR: Restrain him?

STYLER: In a strait-jacket or something.

FARQUHAR: (
Frustrated
.) Mr Styler…

STYLER: What have I said now?

FARQUHAR: I thought I'd explained the philosophy of Fairfields to you. But now I wonder if you listened to a single word I said!

STYLER: I listened.

FARQUHAR: The whole purpose of this institution, the founding principal, was to try to get beyond the terror that has for so many years imprisoned the mentally ill.

STYLER: (
Helpless
.) But you said he was in a cell…that the walls were two-foot thick.

FARQUHAR: That's his choice. It is Easterman who is hiding from us.

STYLER: I don't understand.

FARQUHAR: Well maybe if you put yourself in a strait-jacket you'd begin to. In fact that's not such a bad idea. Have you even seen a strait-jacket, Mr Styler? Have you ever held one? Have you ever put one on?

STYLER: No. Of course not.

FARQUHAR: Then it's time you were educated.

STYLER: Wait a minute…

FARQUHAR: Let me show you what I mean.

FARQUHAR goes over to the door through which he made his first appearance and opens it. Now we see that the door has been subject to one of the many changes that have taken place throughout the first act. On the other side there is no longer a corridor but a cupboard with three shelves cluttered with
books, papers and medical equipment. FARQUHAR takes out a strait-jacket.

STYLER: What's going on here?

FARQUHAR: What?

STYLER: That cupboard…

FARQUHAR: What about it?

STYLER: You came in that way.

FARQUHAR: I'm sorry?

STYLER: You came in that way.

FARQUHAR: You think I came in from a cupboard?

STYLER: No. You came in that way. But it wasn't a cupboard.

FARQUHAR: I don't know what you're talking about.

STYLER: It wasn't a sodding cupboard.

FARQUHAR closes the door.

FARQUHAR: We were talking about insanity.

STYLER: Yes…

FARQUHAR: Put this on.

STYLER: I'm not sure that I want to.

FARQUHAR: Of course you don't want to. If you wanted to, there wouldn't be any point.

STYLER: No…

FARQUHAR: Think of your book.

STYLER: It's got nothing to do with my book.

FARQUHAR: It's got everything to do with it.

STYLER: You really think this will help?

FARQUHAR: Put this on or there is no book.

STYLER takes the strait-jacket. He holds it as if it's an alien object.

STYLER: I don't know where to start.

FARQUHAR: I'll help you. Your arms go in here.

FARQUHAR continues as he puts the strait-jacket on STYLER.

There you are. The left first, then the right. That's it. You are, if you like, embracing the very nature of madness. What do you think it would tell you about yourself, wearing one of these?

STYLER: That you were mad.

FARQUHAR: (
Still fitting the jacket
.) That you were considered mad — it's not quite the same thing. The man who put it on you might believe that you were, in his opinion, mad. But it might occur to you, it might cross your mind that it was in fact the reverse that was true. You might believe that it was he who was mad and you who were perfectly sane.

STYLER: I don't understand the point that you're trying to make.

FARQUHAR: The point is, that once you're wearing one of these, it no longer makes any difference. You have abrogated control, or rather, control has been taken away from you. It not only devours you. It defines you. A man wearing a strait-jacket can only be one of two things. An unsuccessful escapologist or a madman. There…

FARQUHAR stands back. STYLER is in the strait-jacket.

How do you feel?

STYLER: Helpless.

FARQUHAR: You are. Tell me that you're sane.

STYLER: What?

FARQUHAR: Tell me you're sane.

STYLER: I'm sane.

FARQUHAR: I don't believe you.

STYLER: Okay. You've proved your point.

FARQUHAR: Carpet.

STYLER: I'm sorry?

FARQUHAR: Carpet. Envelope. Wallpaper. Cigarette. Jelly.

STYLER: I don't understand you.

FARQUHAR: You think I'm talking nonsense.

STYLER: Yes.

FARQUHAR: But how do you know it is not I who am talking complete sense and you who are hearing nonsense? The strait-jacket puts the weight of the argument on my side.

STYLER: (
Struggling
.) Yes, yes, yes. I was wrong to suggest using it. Now take it off.

FARQUHAR moves closer to STYLER and speaks gently.

FARQUHAR: (
Quoting
.) ‘He does not think there is anything the matter with him because one of the things that is the matter with him is that he does not think that there is anything the matter with him.'
*

STYLER: There's nothing the matter with me. I'm beginning to wonder if there isn't something the matter with you. From the moment I arrived…this whole place.

FARQUHAR: (
Suddenly mad
.) It's a madhouse!

STYLER: Bloody hell!

FARQUHAR turns to the desk and picks up a scalpel. He advances with it menacingly. We should notice that, like the room, his character is rapidly changing.

FARQUHAR: Let's take it one step further.

STYLER: What are you doing with that?

FARQUHAR: Does it make you nervous?

STYLER: Of course it does. What do you think?

FARQUHAR: You're afraid.

STYLER: Look. Put it down and let me go. Why are you playing these games with me?

FARQUHAR: Games? Do you remember what Nurse Plimpton said?

STYLER: What?

FARQUHAR: (
Cruelly imitating her voice
.) ‘He'll play with you…like the devil. And then he'll break you down. He'll destroy you!'

STYLER: She was talking about Easterman.

FARQUHAR: (
Holding the scalpel
.) Let's play games with this.

STYLER: What are you going to do with it?

FARQUHAR: Well, since you so obliged me by slipping into that strait-jacket, I thought I'd begin by cutting out one of your eyes.

STYLER: What?

FARQUHAR: Your left eye or your right eye? I could give you the choice.

STYLER: What do you…what are you talking about?

FARQUHAR: If you say, ‘Please, Dr Farquhar, will you cut out my left eye,' then I'll cut out that one. Or you can
say, ‘Dr Farquhar, I'd like you to cut out my right eye,' in which case that's the one that will go. Or you can keep quiet in which event I'll cut out both.

STYLER: That's enough!

FARQUHAR: Of course, I don't need to start with your eyes. Have you ever wondered what it would be like to be skinned alive? Edward Gein manufactured waistcoats out of his victims, inspiring not one but three Hollywood movies —
Psycho
,
The Texas Chainsaw Massacre
and
The Silence of the Lambs
— demonstrating what you were talking about earlier, the enduring fascination we have with insanity.

STYLER: (
Struggling
.) Please…

FARQUHAR: Or have you ever played ‘Slasher'?

STYLER: No!

FARQUHAR: The rules are very simple. I close my eyes and swing the scalpel so…

FARQUHAR swings the scalpel in a fast, vicious arc. It misses STYLER's face by an inch.

The idea is to get as close as possible without actually slashing your face. If I do slash your face I lose a point and have to start again.

STYLER: God!

FARQUHAR: Exactly. That's who I am, right now, to you. Because here you are, alone in my office, alone in this asylum, and you have no one to turn to, nothing you can do. That is the meaning of power. Power without responsibility. Power for power's sake. And can you imagine what it feels like to have it, to actually have a man's life or death in your hands, to be able to make the choice on a whim, to have him wetting himself with gratitude or with blood and agony if that's what you
decide? Not many people have that power, Mark. But I have it now.

STYLER: Are you mad?

FARQUHAR: You're the one in the strait-jacket.

Then the door opens and PLIMPTON comes in. She takes in the room — the scalpel, the strait-jacket — with one glance.

PLIMPTON: What's happening?

FARQUHAR: Nurse Plimpton. You're not needed now.

PLIMPTON: What are you doing?

FARQUHAR: I said…you're not needed now!

STYLER: Please. Help me, for God's sake…

PLIMPTON: (
To FARQUHAR
.) You can't do this.

FARQUHAR: He wanted to meet Easterman.

PLIMPTON: Let him go.

FARQUHAR: He asked to meet Easterman.

STYLER: No…

FARQUHAR: He wanted to understand.

PLIMPTON: He's had enough!

And with her final word, PLIMPTON picks up the empty bottle of wine and smashes it across FARQUHAR's face. The glass shatters and he falls unconscious, dropping the scalpel. A pause. PLIMPTON crumples in on herself.

Oh God! Oh God! I couldn't let him do it. I couldn't.

STYLER: I don't understand. Please. What's happening?

PLIMPTON: Oh God!

STYLER: Nurse Plimpton…

PLIMPTON: (
Angry
.) That's not my name!

STYLER: What?

PLIMPTON changes from this moment on. She is more serious, determined. She has lost some of her fear.

PLIMPTON: That's not my name. That's what he made me call myself. (
Pause
.) My name is Carol Ennis.

STYLER: Ennis?

PLIMPTON: Dr Carol Ennis. I am the psychotherapist at Fairfields.

STYLER: I don't understand. (
Looking at the unconscious man
.) Dr Farquhar…

PLIMPTON: That's not Dr Farquhar.

STYLER: What?

PLIMPTON: Haven't you guessed? Isn't it bloody obvious! That's Easterman!

STYLER: But… What…?

PLIMPTON: That is Easterman.

STYLER: So what happened to Dr Farquhar?

PLIMPTON comes over to STYLER and starts to undo the strait-jacket. Or tries to.

PLIMPTON: We're going to have to get out of here. You have your car outside?

STYLER: Yes. It's by the main door.

PLIMPTON: It happened three weeks ago. There was a psychodrama session in this very room. Easterman and Borson were here and Alex — Dr Farquhar — was supervising. I was next door, observing. (
She points
.) That's a two-way mirror. Anyway, the session got out of control.
Easterman grabbed Dr Farquhar and half-strangled him. At the same time, Borson came after me.

STYLER: The lunatics taking over the asylum!

PLIMPTON: Yes.

STYLER: What happened?

PLIMPTON: They killed all the staff. Some faster than others. The ones they particularly hated…you don't want to know. Easterman toyed with Dr Farquhar for a week. He was quite mad by the end. Delirious. And unrecognisable. It was horrible. Horrible. And even when he finally died, even then it wasn't over.

STYLER: What do you mean?

PLIMPTON: Easterman boiled him down and then…maybe it was revenge or maybe it was just some sort of horrible game. He reassembled him. The bones.

STYLER turns and gazes at the skeleton.

STYLER: No.

PLIMPTON: Yes. That's Dr Farquhar, standing there, what's left of him.

STYLER: Oh my God!

PLIMPTON: They've kept parts of him in the freezer. They're still eating him.

STYLER: What parts?

PLIMPTON: Pieces of flesh. His heart. His liver…

STYLER: (
Gagging
.) Oh God…

PLIMPTON: What is it?

STYLER: The waste-bin!

PLIMPTON: What?

STYLER: The waste-bin! Quick!

PLIMPTON snatches up the dustbin just in time for STYLER to be sick in it.

His liver. Oh God!

PLIMPTON: I tried to warn you.

STYLER: Why didn't you just tell me, for God's sake? Why didn't you just tell me to go?

PLIMPTON: I tried to. I gave you that note.

STYLER: He burned it.

PLIMPTON: It set off the alarm.

STYLER: Yes, I know.

PLIMPTON: If I'd told you the truth, he'd never have let you leave. I did the best I could.

STYLER struggles to get out of the jacket.

What are we going to do?

STYLER: What do you mean, what are we going to do? Can't you get this thing off me?

PLIMPTON: The straps are too tight. (
Struggling with the straps
.) You have to get me out of here. I'm the only one left alive. Do you have any idea what they've been doing to me for the past three weeks? It's been so terrible. Everything they wanted. I couldn't say no. I tried but…

PLIMPTON breaks down. STYLER wants to comfort her but he can't — not while he's in the strait-jacket.