The Normal Heart and The Destiny of Me: Two Plays (12 page)

FELIX:
I’m going to be all right, you know.

EMMA:
Good. That’s the right attitude.

FELIX:
No, I’m going to be the one who kicks it. I’ve always been lucky.

EMMA:
Good.

FELIX:
I guess everyone says that. Well, I’m going to be the one. I wanted a job on the
Times,
I got it. I wanted Ned . . . Have I given it to Ned?

EMMA:
I don’t know.

FELIX:
Can he catch it from me now?

EMMA:
We just don’t know.

FELIX:
Did he give it to me?

EMMA:
Only one out of a hundred adults infected with the polio virus gets it; virtually everybody infected with rabies dies. One person has a cold, hepatitis—sometimes the partner catches it, sometimes not. I don’t think we’ll ever know why.

FELIX:
No more making love?

EMMA:
Right.

FELIX:
Some gay doctors are saying it’s okay if you use rubbers.

EMMA:
I know they are.

FELIX:
Can we kiss?

EMMA:
I don’t know.

FELIX:
(
After a long pause.
) I want my mother.

EMMA:
Where is she?

FELIX:
She’s dead. We never got along anyway.

EMMA:
I’m going to do my damnedest, Felix. (
She starts to leave.
)

FELIX:
Hey, Doc . . . I’ll bet you say that to all the boys.

A small, crowded office. Many phones are ringing.
TOMMY
is on two at once;
MICKEY
,
going crazy, is on another, trying to understand and hear in the din; and
GRADY
,
a volunteer, also on a phone, is trying to pass papers and information to either.

MICKEY:
Hello. Just a moment. It’s another theory call. Okay, go ahead. Uranus . . . ? (
Writing it down.
)

GRADY:
Whose asshole you talking about, Mickey?

MICKEY:
Grady!

TOMMY:
(
To
GRADY.
) I thought your friend, little Vinnie, was going to show up today.

MICKEY:
He had to go to the gym.

MICKEY:
(
Reading into the phone what be’s written.
) “Mystical electromagnetic fields ruled by the planet Uranus?” Yes, well, we’ll certainly keep that in mind. Thank you for calling and sharing that with us.

GRADY:
Harry’s in a pay phone at the post office.

MICKEY:
Get a number, we’ll call him back.

GRADY:
(
Into phone.
) Give me the number, I’ll call you back.

TOMMY:
(
Into one phone.
) Philip, can you hold on? (Into second phone.) Graciella, you tell Señor Hiram I’ve been holding for
diez minutos
and he called me.
Sí, sí!
(
Into first phone.
) You know where St. Vincent’s is? You get your ass there fast! I’ll send you a crisis counselor later today. I know you’re scared, honey, but just get there.

(
GRADY
hands
MICKEY
Harry’s number.
TOMMY
has hung up one phone.
)

MICKEY:
Well, call him back!

(
BRUCE
comes in, dressed as from the office, with his attaché case.
)

TOMMY:
Mickey, do we have a crisis counselor we can send to St. V’s around six o’clock?

MICKEY:
(
Consulting a chart on a wall.
) No.

TOMMY:
Shit. (
To
BRUCE
.) Hi, Bossman.

BRUCE:
(
Answering a ringing phone.
) Hello. How ya doin’! (
To the room.
) It’s Kessler in San Francisco.

GRADY:
(
Into his phone.
) Louder, Harry! It’s a madhouse. None of the volunteers showed up.

MICKEY:
(
Busying himself with paperwork.
) Mystical?!

GRADY:
(
On his phone.
) Oh, dear.

BRUCE:
(
On his.
) No kidding.

GRADY:
Oh, dear!

TOMMY:
(
Picking up a ringing phone.
) Ned’s not here yet.

BRUCE:
(
To the room
.) San Francisco’s mayor is giving four million dollars to their organization. (
Into phone.
) Well, we still haven’t met our mayor. We met with his assistant about four months ago.

TOMMY:
(
To
BRUCE
.) Hiram called three days ago and left a message he found some money for us. Try and get him back.

MICKEY:
We need to train some more crisis counselors.

GRADY:
What about me, Mick?

TOMMY:
(
Standing up.
) Okay, get this! The
Times
is finally writing a big story. Twenty months after the epidemic has been declared, the
Times
is finally writing a big story. Word is that
Craig Claiborne took someone high up out to lunch and told them they really had to write something, anything.

MICKEY:
Who’s writing it?

TOMMY:
Some lady in Baltimore.

MICKEY:
Makes sense. (
His phone rings.
) Hello.

GRADY:
(
Still on his phone.
) Oh, dear.

TOMMY:
Grady, darling, what the fuck are you oh-dearing about?

GRADY:
(
Dropping his bombshell to Bruce.
) Bruce—Harry says the post office won’t accept our mailing.

BRUCE:
What! (
Into phone.
) Got to go. (
Slams phone down and grabs
GRADY’S.
) Harry, what’s the problem?

MICKEY:
(
Into his phone.
) That’s awful.

BRUCE:
(
Into his phone.
) They can’t do that to us!

TOMMY:
(
Who hadn’t heard
GRADY
.) What is it now?

GRADY:
Harry went to the post office with the fifty-seven cartons of our new Newsletters—

TOMMY:
Sugar, I sent him there!

GRADY:
Well, they’re not going anywhere.

BRUCE:
(
To
TOMMY
.) The post office won’t accept them because we just used our initials.

TOMMY:
So what?

BRUCE:
In order to get tax-exemption we have to use our full name.

TOMMY:
There is a certain amount of irony in all this, though not right now.

GRADY:
He’s double-parked and his volunteers had to go home.

TOMMY:
Grady, dear, would you go help him out?

GRADY:
No.

TOMMY
and
MICKEY:
Grady!

GRADY:
No! Why do I always have to do the garbage stuff?

MICKEY:
Grady!

GRADY:
Give me the phone. (
Into phone.
) Hold on, Harry, I’m coming to help you. (
To
TOMMY.
) Give me cab fare.

TOMMY:
Ride the rail, boy.

BRUCE:
(
Into the phone.
) Harry, someone’s coming. (
Whispering to
TOMMY.
) What’s his name?

TOMMY
and
MICKEY:
Grady.

(
GRADY
exits.
)

BRUCE:
(
Into phone.
) Harry, bring them back. I want to fight this further somewhere. I’m sorry, I know it’s a schlepp.

TOMMY:
So this means we either pay full rate or embarrass their mailmen. Sorry, honey, I couldn’t resist. (
Into phone.
) Graciella! (
To the room.
) How do you say “I’ve been holding twenty minutes” in Spanish? (
Into phone.
) City Hall is an equal-opportunity employer, doesn’t that mean you all have to learn English? (
He hangs up.
)

MICKEY:
(
Hanging up.
) That was Atlanta. They’re reporting thirty cases a week now nationally.

BRUCE:
Thirty?

TOMMY:
The CDC are filthy liars. What’s wrong with those boys? We log forty cases a week in this office alone.

BRUCE:
Forty?

TOMMY:
Forty.

MICKEY:
Thirty.

BRUCE:
(
Trying to decide how to enter this on the wall chart.
) So that’s thirty nationally, forty in this office alone.

TOMMY:
You heard what I said. (
Dialing, then into phone.
) Hi. Pick up for us, will you, dears? We need a little rest. Thank you. (
Hangs up.
)

(
There is a long moment of silence, strange now without the ringing phones.
TOMMY
lights a cigarette and sits back.
MICKEY
tries to concentrate on some paperwork.
BRUCE
is at the wall entering figures on charts.
)

BRUCE:
Mickey. . . aren’t you supposed to be in Rio?

MICKEY:
Where’s Ned?

TOMMY:
He should be here by now.

BRUCE:
I don’t want to see him.

MICKEY:
I need to talk to him. I don’t want to lose my job because Ned doesn’t like sex very much. He’s coming on like Jesus Christ, as if he never took a lover himself.

BRUCE:
Rio. Why aren’t you in Rio?

MICKEY:
I was in Rio. I’m tired. I need a rest.

BRUCE:
We’re all exhausted.

TOMMY:
You’re the president; you can’t have a rest.

MICKEY:
I work all day for the city writing stuff on breast-feeding versus formula and how to stay calm if you have herpes and I work all night on our Newsletter and my health columns for the
Native
and I can’t take it anymore. Now this. . .

TOMMY:
Take it slowly.

BRUCE:
Now what?

MICKEY:
I was in Rio, Gregory and I are in Rio, we just got there, day before yesterday, I get a phone call, from Hiram’s office.

BRUCE:
In Rio?

MICKEY:
I’m told to be at a meeting at his office right away, this morning.

BRUCE:
What kind of meeting? Why didn’t you call me and I could have checked it out?

MICKEY:
Because, unfortunately, you are not my boss.

BRUCE:
What kind of meeting?

MICKEY:
I don’t know. I get to City Hall, he keeps me waiting forever; finally the Commissioner comes, my boss, and he said I hope you had a nice vacation, and went inside, into Hiram’s office; and I waited some more, and the Commissioner comes out and says, Hiram doesn’t want to see you anymore. I said, please, sir, then why did he make me come all the way back from Rio? He said, your vacation isn’t over? I said, no sir, I was just there one day. I wanted to scream I haven’t slept in
two days, you dumb fuck! but I didn’t. What I said was, sir, does this mean I’m fired? And the Commissioner said, no, I don’t think he means that, and he left.

(
NED
enters, unnoticed.
)

MICKEY:
Ned’s article in the
Native
attacking Hiram came out last week. I love sex! I worship men! I don’t think Ned does. I don’t think Ned likes himself. I—

NED:
What are you trying to say, Mickey?

MICKEY:
You keep trying to make us say things that we don’t want to say! And I don’t think we can afford to make so many enemies before we have enough friends.

NED:
We’ll never have enough friends. We have to accept that. And why does what I say mean I don’t like myself? Why is anything I’m saying compared to anything but common sense? When are we going to have this out once and for all? How many cases a week now?

MICKEY:
Thirty . . . forty. . .

NED:
Reinhard dead, Craig dead, Albert sick, Felix not getting any better . . . Richie Faro just died.

MICKEY:
Richie!

NED:
That guy Ray Schwartz just committed suicide. Terry’s calling all his friends from under his oxygen tent to say good-bye. Soon we’re going to be blamed for not doing anything to help ourselves. When are we going to admit we might be spreading this? We have simply fucked ourselves silly for years and years, and sometimes we’ve done it in the filthiest places.

TOMMY:
Some of us have never been to places like that, Ned.

NED:
Well, good for you, Tommy. Maybe you haven’t, but others you’ve been with have, so what’s the difference?

TOMMY:
(
Holding up his cigarette.
) It’s my right to kill myself.

NED:
But it is not your right to kill me. This is not a civil-rights issue, this is a contagion issue.

BRUCE:
We don’t know that yet, and until they discover the virus, we’re not certain where this is coming from.

NED:
We know enough to cool it for a while! And save lives while we do. All it takes is one wrong fuck. That’s not promiscuity—that’s bad luck.