by Charles L. Mee
[Doctor Jaqueline Benoit enters.]
I beg your pardon.
I am looking for Hilda Braunschweiger.
And you are?
I am going to be called Doctor Jaqueline Benoit.
I had the phone call
that Ms. Braunschweiger has had the severe chill and needs the doctor?
You are a medical doctor?
And you're making a house call?
A house call I don't know.
You are coming to the house
and not having the patient come to your office.
Ah, because I am the doctor without walls
and I happen to be here
because the snow she is not having the other doctors to be here.
And you are visiting for the holiday?
You don't recognize me?
Of course I recognize you!
I would hope so.
After this night in Zagreb.
Ah. Yes. Well.
[checking with Maria and the others]
Yes, this afternoon and this night and this day.
The uncertainty of the political situation. No place to spend the night.
I like this hotel.
Yes, I mean, of course, we finally found a hotel
which we had to share, with...
so many others, refugees.
You mean there were other guests in the hotel.
Yes. Of course.
Are you saying the two of you spent the night together?
When was this?
Oh, long ago. This spring last time.
It seems so long ago.
It couldn't have been.
And then your wife took you away.
He had to go with her
because, although no longer they were close
as the lovers
and had not to make love in years before—
as I think I can know,
because of how it was to be with us
this afternoon and this night and this day—
his wife, she was ill
and he was devoted to her.
Very nice. Very gentle.
How is she, Francois?
Ah, she has passed away.
She has passed away?
I'm sorry to hear this.
But, does this mean you are now free?
Because, I don't, excuse me,
I am not with thinking,
I don't mean just to jump like this at you.
I am only thinking, perhaps you need the friend.
Yes, indeed, I do.
And because you did say,
one day, when you are free,
you want to be with me.
You are a pig, Francois.
Yes, it's true.
I am afraid it's true.
I am a pig.
I can't understand it.
And on top of that
telling her you had a wife.
Except that, in a way,
I did have a wife
in an official sense
she was someone else's wife.
I beg your pardon?
He doesn't have a wife.
He has my wife.
I have been waiting for you, Francois.
Waiting and waiting for you.
the way you care for me—
I never know a man like you.
From the moment we make love
my life she has never been the same.
He is a bad person.
You know, I have never pretended to be other than
a bad person
And you are.
How you are:
it is not funny
it is not charming
It's not even French, necessarily.
Or male even.
No one is amused.
People are not going to forgive you
for being the person you are.
I am....I don't know.
I feel air in the head.
No, yes, I am,
here, let me help you,
it is not funny
it is not funny to me
I am a tormented individual
a sick person
from birth probably
you would know about this, being a doctor,
but also you know the way I have been socialized
perhaps I don't know
probably I was raised too permissively
it may be I was raised to be hypermasculine
and allowed to run and jump
and be rowdy
and even shove and wrestle
probably because there was recess
and there should not have been any recess.
I should have been forced to play with dolls
to bathe them and help them get dressed
I live a life of such confusion
sometimes I think I can't go on
and then you do
and then I do and I regret it
because look at me
I am a wreck.
No one feels sympathy for you, Francois.
Everyone blames me.
And is this fair?
Let's say it were you
let's say it would be a woman who did this
no one would think she is a pig
I would never do this.
Have a fling with a woman in Zagreb.
Or a man.
This is not what women do
that's why they are not pigs.
Maybe it is not something you would do
but some woman might do it.
No woman would do it.
How do you say no woman would do it?
I did it.