UP THE STAIRS AND DOWN THE STAIRS by Darren Baker Copyright (c) 1996 THE CAST AMEL MAFFEY, lawyer for the firm Maffey & Maffey TRUDY, his sometime secretary, sometime legal assistant HAROLD, a law student clerking for Maffey DENISE SHANE, a therapist specializing in acute recovered memory syndrome MORNING CHAMBERS, her patient THE VOICE OF THE RIGHT REVEREND SNOKES, Morning's true confessor The setting is the Maffey law office. An overfilled filing cabinet stands to the left, a closed window is at the back of the stage, a desk and chairs are in the middle and the door leading to the reception room is on the right. The whole place is cluttered with papers. Maffey is sitting at his desk talking on the phone. MAFFEY: Yeah... yeah... yeah... look, Martin, I'm telling you, if I can get the city to agree to a fat settlement like that, then I'm sure I can get my secretary to find that affidavit. Just relax, I promise you everything will be in order come noon tomorrow. (Pause) Martin, all this hollering on the phone isn't going to get us anywhere. I thought you were gonna go out and shop for a swimming pool today. (Pause) Yeah... yeah... good-bye, Martin. I'll call you just as soon as we find it. (He hangs up the phone) Boy, what a loser. Trudy! (Trudy comes in holding a form) That scumbag Martin just threatened to take the settlement offer to another firm if we're not ready to go by five o'clock today. Personally I'd like to tell him to go straight to hell, but I want a swimming pool, too. So...? TRUDY: I'm afraid I haven't found it yet. MAFFEY: Trudy, a $90,000 settlement, 35% of which is going to this firm, is riding on that affidavit. TRUDY: I know that, Amel, I know that, but all this pressure isn't doing wonders for my memory. I just... I just need some more time to recall what I did with it. MAFFEY: Okay, look: Put everything, I mean everything, out there on hold, do nothing today but look for that file. Got it? And as soon as Harold comes back with my coffee, put him to work looking for it, too. TRUDY: You sent him out for coffee? He just told me he was going down to the dumpster for his cigarette break. MAFFEY: What?! Why that little twerp! (He goes to the window and opens it) Hey, Harold! What the hell are you doing down there ? Where's my coffee? HAROLD: (From outside) Sorry, Chief, but smoking hours in the morning are between 9 and 9:30. MAFFEY: Well, why don't you bring my coffee up here first and then go down to smoke? HAROLD: But I just lit this one up. MAFFEY: Oh, for chrissakes! (He shuts the window) I thought we were getting the cream of the crop when that boy asked to clerk here this summer, but now it seems like he spends more time down at the dumpster than he does in this office. Say, you don't suppose we could ask Harold to go through the dumpster real quick just in case you might've thrown the affidavit away. TRUDY: Amel, in all my years as a legal assistant, I've never once thrown away an affidavit. MAFFEY: Yeah, but what about all your years as a secretary? (She starts to scowl) Sorry, just a joke. TRUDY: (She turns to leave, then turns right back around again) By the way, there are two women waiting to see you. They're the ones who called yesterday about setting up a case involving sexual misconduct. MAFFEY: What, right now? This office looks like shit and I haven't had my coffee fix yet. TRUDY: Well, they've been here for ten minutes now and have already filled out the questionnaire. (She hands him the form) Should I ask Harold to bring them up some coffee, too? MAFFEY: (Studying the form) Yeah, if you think it'll accomplish anything. And how about clearing a place for them on the chairs there. TRUDY: (She goes to the window and opens it) Say, Harold! Make it three cups when you're finished. (She goes to the chairs and starts picking up the papers) MAFFEY: Trudy, what the hell's with these women? They didn't name any defendants, nor the amount of damages they're seeking, nor even who the hell they are for that matter. I thought I asked you to start weeding out these introvert types. TRUDY: I'm afraid I didn't have time to look over the form because of the other urgent matter at hand today. MAFFEY: All right, go ahead and send them in and then please get hot on that search, will you. TRUDY: (She opens the reception room door) Would you please come in. (Denise and Morning appear at the door) MAFFEY: (He gets up to greet them) Hello, I'm Amel Maffey. SHANE: I'm Denise Shane and this here is Morning Chambers. ALL: Hello, hello. MAFFEY: Please have a seat. (They all sit down) So, what can I do for you ladies today? SHANE: Well, to be honest with you, Mr. Maffey, we had come here expecting to find a Ms. Maffey. MAFFEY: Yeah, well Mrs. Maffey would be my ex-wife Janet, but we haven't practiced together since she left me and our firm for another lawyer and his firm. In another city, I might add. SHANE: That's too bad, because she was highly recommended to me by my sister-in-law, who had retained Ms. Maffey in the class action suit involving the tainted horse radish last year. MAFFEY: Tainted horse radish? I never heard of any case of hers involving horse radish. SHANE: Well, my sister-in-law said it was a certain woman lawyer named Maffey and you're the only attorneys with the name Maffey in the book. MAFFEY: Just a second, please. (He hits the intercom) Ms. Trudy, do you know anything about a case Janet worked on last year involving horse radish. TRUDY'S VOICE: Horse radish? I'm afraid not, but then I can't recall every case she ever worked on, either. MAFFEY: (Letting go of the intercom and mumbling) That ain't the only thing you can't recall around here. SHANE: Excuse me? MAFFEY: Nothing. SHANE: Well, it could be that your ex-partner was doing some work on the side. MAFFEY: Yeah, well doing things on the side was one of Janet's specialties, but inasmuch as we're not here to talk about her, why don't we get started on your case. Now then... SHANE: I'm afraid I'll have to be honest with you again, Mr. Maffey, and tell you that we were hoping to retain a woman attorney on this matter. You see, this is a case involving sexual exploitation committed by church clergy and we feel that a woman would perhaps be more sensitive to a high-damage suit of this nature. MAFFEY: Believe me, Ms. Shane, I'm sensitive to all high-damage suits, whether they concern sexual exploitation or even tainted horse radish. Why don't you go ahead and tell me the facts of the case and then we'll decide on the best possible representation for you. SHANE: You mean for Ms. Chambers here. She's the one who's suing. I'm just the one advising her to do it. MAFFEY: Well, who are you? SHANE: I'm her therapist. You see, last month Ms. Chambers here came to my office at the Shady Green Mental Health Service Center seeking help for a prolonged bout with depression. During several of our sessions, I used hypnosis to help her recall the source of the depression- if, for example, it had anything to do with some traumatic experience that she had long since repressed. MAFFEY: Like being sexually abused once? SHANE: Once? What I got out of her was a young girl being abused over a period of 6 years, and by her father no less. MAFFEY: And her father's a member of the clergy? SHANE: No, the clergy comes into the picture later. You see, I like to use the step-by- step approach to bringing Ms. Chambers here into an hypnotic state because it allows me to presume a step to age conversion factor. MAFFEY: You mean whatever might come out at, say, step five, probably occurred at age five? SHANE: Exactly. In Ms. Chambers here's case, the incident of abuse is always recalled between steps 7 and 13, leading me to believe.... MAFFEY: Sorry to interrupt you, but you just said incident, as in one incident. SHANE: That's right. MAFFEY: So what are you suggesting, that her father abused her non-stop over the course of 6 years? SHANE: Strictly speaking, no, but Ms. Chambers here is unable, at this stage of her therapy, to itemize, as it were, all the incidents of abuse. I suspect the one incident she has been able to recall thus far is, in fact, a blend of all of them put together. MAFFEY: Uh-huh. SHANE: And it's probably going to take years of therapy to isolate and confront each one individually- after all, we're talking about 6 years here!- and I advised Ms. Chambers here to instigate a lawsuit as a way to jump-start the healing process. MAFFEY: Healing process? How so? SHANE: Because she can hardly confront the abuse until she has confronted the abuser. Moreover, therapy of this magnitude is quite extensive, sometimes involving medication, videos, group encounters, fat farms, a whole list of prescriptions, and I'm afraid Ms. Chambers here has no health insurance to defray these costs. MAFFEY: I see. Well, I hope this question won't seem out of place at the moment, but... how old is Ms. Chambers? SHANE: Go ahead and ask her. She's sitting right there. MAFFEY: (Somewhat frustrated) Ms. Chambers, how old are you? MORNING: Please, call me Morning. Ah, I turned 52 last January. MAFFEY: And when did the abuse occur, Ms. Shane? SHANE: Between steps, rather, ages 7 and 13. MAFFEY: So your diagnosis is that Ms. Chambers repressed these memories of abuse for forty some-odd years? SHANE: It's quite some time, to be sure, but I think most of my colleagues would agree that a repressed memory can last for as long as the life of the mind. Some of them would even assert that history and science must both be revised because they were written, for the most part, in repressed ages, long before psychotherapy was even discovered. MAFFEY: Yeah, well we won't get into that now, but I can assure you that trying to sell a jury on forty years worth of repression won't be an easy task. What about corroborating evidence? Is anyone in the family prepared to testify on her behalf? SHANE: Unfortunately, they're all dead now save for Ms. Chambers here and her father. MAFFEY: And have you confronted him about your recovered memory yet, Ms. Chambers? MORNING: Please, call me Morning. No, on the advice of Ms. Shane, I haven't confronted him in person because he's too old and, well, I'd just as soon not do it. MAFFEY: I'm afraid you're gonna have to do it sooner or later if we get around to dragging this man into court. SHANE: But suing him would be fruitless. He's 86 years old, confined to a wheelchair and bed in a run-down nursing home and he's totally insolvent. Besides, what if he keeled over and died during the confrontation? That certainly wouldn't look good in front of a jury, now would it? MAFFEY: So just who in the hell do you people wanna sue then? (Harold comes in with a tray holding three cups of coffee, sugar and cream) Excuse me, would you ladies like a cup of coffee? SHANE AND MORNING RESPECTIVELY: No thank you. MAFFEY: Well, help yourself if you happen to change your minds. Thanks, Harold. Now how about helping Ms. Trudy look for the Martin affidavit. (Harold nods and leaves) So now, who am I supposed to serve the summons to? SHANE: That would be Ms. Chambers here's church. You know, the clergy part of this sordid tale. MAFFEY: And what church might that be, Ms. Chambers? MORNING: Please, do call me Morning. It's... it's the Church of the Good Samaritans. Out on Shady Green Way, close to Ms. Shane's office. MAFFEY: Never heard of them. SHANE: Neither had I until Ms. Chambers here told me her story. MAFFEY: But she just said they're your neighbors. SHANE: Yeah, but that had always been a Catholic church for as long as I could remember. From what I gathered, the church was sold last year because the congregation kept getting smaller and the walls creaked during the sermons, or something along those lines. So in moves these people calling themselves the Good Samaritans, not ordained by any religion as far as anyone knows, but in no time they've amassed quite a fortune and flock. Hell, they're even advertising on late-nite TV now. MAFFEY: And Morning, are you a Good Samaritan, so to speak? MORNING: No, I'm Catholic actually. Like Ms. Shane said, it used to be a Catholic church and I had always attended the masses there since I was a little girl. I was even baptized there. Well, I couldn't bear to leave this church- it's a special part of my life, you see- and when I found out that the Good Samaritans were practicing all the beliefs and rituals of the Catholic church, I decided to join them. MAFFEY: You mean like baptism, holy eucharist, confession and so forth. SHANE: Yeah, confession all right! MORNING: Yes, but what sets them apart from the Catholic church is their emphasis on good samaritan training. They show you, for example, how to help someone who has fallen out of his wheelchair, or how to approach and repair a stalled vehicle, or if you come across two people in danger, how to decide which one to save first... MAFFEY: Yeah, I think I get the picture. So now, how do they fit into this case? SHANE: You see, I started recovering Ms. Chambers here's memory last month. Some time thereafter she started experiencing feelings of guilt, thinking that somehow she too was guilty that an act of incest had occurred in her family. So she went to confession and told the so- called priest what had happened. Well, it seems that while relating the incident she managed to put herself into a state of self-induced hypnosis. MAFFEY: Is that possible? SHANE: Let us say it's not an uncommon occurrence, especially once a patient has been hypnotized before. So she related the incident to him exactly as she had done so to me, only this time she's fully conscious of what she's saying and doing. It's just that she can't stop herself because of her fragile condition. MAFFEY: Yeah, but it's not the priest's fault that you're such a good hypnotist. SHANE: I know that, that's why I gave him the benefit of the doubt the first time around. But the exact same thing happened when Ms. Chambers here went to see him for confession on two following occasions. That's when it occurred to me that this bastard was merely exploiting her condition for his own sexual perversions. MAFFEY: You mean like listening to a sex hotline? SHANE: Listening and gawking you mean. You see, when Ms. Chambers here is under hypnosis, she uses, let us say, her whole body to describe the incident. MAFFEY: Whole body? SHANE: Yeah, you know like... (She wraps her arms around herself as if to express self- affection) MAFFEY: Really? And she did that three times right there in the church for God and everybody to see? SHANE: Only God and the priest, I'm afraid. According to Ms. Chambers here, the Good Samaritans moved the confessional off to an isolated corner of the church. For reasons we can now presume. MAFFEY: Well, it seems under these circumstances you do have a good case against them. However, I'm gonna have to ask you, solely from a professional standpoint, to give me a demonstration of this recovered memory procedure. I have a pretty good idea what it's all about, but I need to see and hear it for myself before I can determine how much in damages would be appropriate. Only with your consent, of course. SHANE: Ms. Chambers, how do you feel about it? MORNING: To tell you the truth, I've done it so many times now, I feel I could do it simply on demand. SHANE: I think that means yes. MAFFEY: Good. And secondly, I'm afraid you're gonna have to confront your father some way or another before we set the legal machinery into motion. A jury might not be too sympathetic if they find out we bypassed the perpetrator all because he's old and penniless. SHANE: I'm one step ahead of you, Mr. Maffey. I spent one year in law school myself before switching to clinical psychology. MAFFEY: Oh really? What school? SHANE: Well, actually it was more like correspondence courses in legal matters, but accredited, of course. MAFFEY: The same, I take it, with your studies in clinical psychology. SHANE: Yes, but one of the reasons I switched was because the psychology courses were affiliated with a better known school; a church one, no less, if you can believe that. Anyway, I told Ms. Chambers here that from a medical and legal standpoint, she was gonna have to confront her father sooner or later and, in view of his present age and whereabouts, I presented her with several options on how to go about doing it. Unfortunately, the nursing home, bastion of patriarchy that it is, ended up ruling most of them out. MAFFEY: For example? SHANE: For example, they said calling him on the phone would do no good because he's hard of hearing. And sending him a home video would also be useless because his lucid moments are few and far between. So in the end, Ms. Chambers here chose to write him a letter. MAFFEY: And do you have the letter with you now, Morning? MORNING: Yes, it's right here. (She pulls out a small stack of typed pages from her bag and hands it to him) MAFFEY: (Flipping through the pages) Jesus, this thing must be thirty or forty pages long! SHANE: Isn't it unbelievable? At first, she was having problems just trying to write "Dear Father" much less a normal letter. So I helped her along one session by putting her under again and all of a sudden I couldn't get her to stop. She spent the whole of one afternoon typing non-stop in my office. Hell, I even had to move my final two appointments that day into the clinic's lounge and massage room. MAFFEY: Really? Maybe I should send Ms. Trudy by your office the next time she has trouble typing up a nastygram to one of my clients. (Reading from the first page) "Dearest Father: You recently asked me why I maintain that I am afraid of you. I didn't want to answer partly because..." SHANE: I do hope you're not planning to read that whole thing right now. I have a brunch session with my overeater's anonymous group at eleven. MORNING: Yes, we're having blueberry muffins with cholesterol- substituted butter today. SHANE: (Annoyed) Ms. Chambers, how can it be an anonymous group if you go around informing people that you're in it? MAFFEY: Okay, okay, I'll make sure you ladies are out of here for brunch in time. And did you already send a copy of this letter over to your father, Morning? MORNING: Yes, last week. Here is the notice of receipt. (She hands him the notice) MAFFEY: And did you hear anything from the nursing home? MORNING: Not a word, and when I called them to find out whether he had received it, the only thing they would tell me is that their postal service runs best on Mother's Day. SHANE: It may as well be Groundhog Day for all the good it does someone like Ms. Chambers here. But the receipt itself should be proof enough that she at least tried to force a confrontation of sorts. MAFFEY: Perhaps, but I don't much like the idea of going into court with the bulk of the evidence connected to hypnosis. It might give a lesser jury the impression that Ms. Chambers is, for lack of a better word, brainwashed, and that could lead to a reality problem. SHANE: (Seizing the letter) But this constitutes three sessions worth of therapy! You can't throw it out just because there may be some jurors who think of me and my colleagues as little better than quacks and witch doctors. MAFFEY: Of course not. But evidence brought up from the dark recesses of the mind often have to take a real grinding through the credibility mill. On the other hand, the sheer volume of this letter might be enough to sway the jury as to its authenticity. (He hits the intercom) I'll have Harold make a copy of it and then I'll run through it tonight just to see where it would best fit into this case. (Trudy opens the door and he approaches her) Ms. Trudy, ask Harold to run over to the copy center and make a copy of this, would you please. TRUDY: (In a loud whisper) I'm afraid Harold is down at the dumpster again. He offered to take a quick look through the trash for the you- know-what. MAFFEY: Yeah? There's hope for that boy yet. Well, tell him to do that later, but for now, get him started on the copying. As you can see, this thing might take a while. TRUDY: What is it? MAFFEY: Let's just say it ain't an affidavit. (She sneers at him and leaves. He goes to the window and opens it) Excuse me for a second. (Yells out the window) Yo, Harold, how about coming up here real quick. (Closes the window) SHANE: Did I hear your legal assistant correctly? Your clerk is busy at the moment looking for something in the dumpster? MAFFEY: Was busy. He's on his way up here right now. (A forced pause as Denise gives Amel an ATQ look) Well, the fact of the matter is is that the building supervisors have designated the dumpster as the only official smoking area on the premises. It's dirty and full of noxious fumes, just the kind of psychological profile a smoker needs to see and smell in order to kick the habit. Mirror of persuasion, I think they call this approach. SHANE: Yeah, it was really popular during the Middle Ages. And are the smokers encouraged to take the trash out while they're at it? MAFFEY: You can see for yourself it's not the case around here. Are you sure you ladies wouldn't like anything? SHANE AND MORNING RESPECTIVELY: No thank you. MAFFEY: (Taking a second cup of coffee) So how about we get started on this recovered memory procedure? Do you need anything from me to set up the proper mood? Elevator music, Elvis love pendant, shot of bourbon...? SHANE: Just patience and courtesy, that's all. Ms. Chambers, shall we begin? MORNING: I'm ready. Oh, can I take my shoes off? MAFFEY: Whatever makes you comfortable. (The two women turn their chairs to each other) Oh, let me get my secretary first. SHANE: That's all right, we don't need her. MAFFEY: But I do. Just as a formality, you understand. (He goes to the door and opens it) Ms. Trudy, could you come in here for a minute, please. (Trudy appears at the door) By the way, how long does this take? I mean inducing the hypnosis. SHANE: Ms. Chambers here is normally a light case when she hasn't had any caffeine in the morning, but it can take anywhere up to an hour. MAFFEY: (To Trudy) I'll call you when we're ready. (He closes the door and sits back down) So, whenever you're ready. SHANE: Okay, Ms. Chambers, here we go. Please close your eyes and bring your knees together. That's good, Ms. Chambers. Now, slowly start to increase the pressure between your knees. Not too hard, but firmly, and maintain that firm, steady pressure. Maintenance and pressure, Ms. Chambers, maintenance and pressure. A rooted and rigid, firm and confirmed pressure. Maintenance and pressure, Ms. Chambers, maintenance and pressure. Now, how do you feel? MORNING: I feel... I feel... pressure. SHANE: Very good, Ms. Chambers, very good. Now, you find yourself on a stairwell. A rank and dank, musty and dusty stairwell. And you're going up the stairs and down the stairs, up the stairs and down the stairs, up the stairs and down the stairs, up the stairs and down the stairs, up the stairs and down the stairs, up the stairs and down the stairs, up the stairs and down the stairs. Now, you're going up one step, down one step, up one step, down one step, up one step, down one step, up one step, down one step, up one step, down one step. Now, up two steps, down one step, up two steps, down one step, up two steps, down one step, up two steps, down one step. Down two steps, up one step, down two steps, up one step, down two steps, up one step, down two steps, up one step. Now, up two steps, down two steps, up two steps, down two steps, up two steps, down two steps, up two steps, down two steps. Up three steps, down one step, up three steps, down one step, up three steps, down one step, up three steps, down one step, up three steps, down one step and... stop! Maintenance and pressure, maintenance and pressure. Now, where are you, Ms. Chambers? MORNING: I'm on step two in a stairwell. In a rank and dank, musty and dusty stairwell. SHANE: (Whispers to Amel) I like to start her off on the second step because, like any normal person, she shouldn't be able to say anything reasonably coherent until about the age of two. MAFFEY: (Whispers back) But there was a story in the tabloids yesterday about a baby who was born talking to God. SHANE: (Whispering) Please. There's no room for rumor or humor in hypnosis. Now Ms. Chambers, on the count of "knee", you're going to slowly start ascending this stairwell through adolescent neverworld. One, two, knee! (She clicks her finger and thumb together) Slowly but firmly, first step three, now four, then five, next six, finally seven and... stop! (Again to Amel) The horror story actually begins here, but I'm going to bring her all the way up to step thirteen because the language at this age, as one might expect, is much more sophisticated and detailed than the earlier steps. Now Ms. Chambers, where are you? MORNING: I'm on step seven in a rank and dank, musty and dusty stairwell. SHANE: And what do you feel there Ms. Chambers? MORNING: I feel pressure. A dirty and hurty pressure between my legs. SHANE: (To Amel) You see. (But he doesn't) Okay Ms. Chambers, now you're going to continue ascending the stairwell. Slowly but firmly, first step eight, now nine, then ten... and stop! What do you feel now, Ms. Chambers? MORNING: I feel pressure. A grimy and slimy pressure between my legs. SHANE: And are you alone? MORNING: No, my daddy, my big daddy is with me. SHANE: (To Amel) Big daddy all right! (Back to Morning) Continue on, Ms. Chambers. Slowly but firmly, up to step eleven, next twelve, finally thirteen and... stop! Now, where are you, Ms. Chambers? MORNING: I'm on step thirteen in a rank and dank, musty and dusty stairwell. SHANE: And what do you feel there, Ms. Chambers? MORNING: I feel pressure. A wet, putrid pressure between my legs. SHANE: And are you alone there right now? MORNING: No... no, my dad, my father is with me. SHANE: And what's he doing? MORNING: He's... he's... on top of me. (Moving her hands about her legs and torso, the pitch of her voice growing steadily) Forcing himself between me. Pushing and driving, riveting every joint into my firm and supple body... SHANE: (Whispering to Amel and gesturing for him to get Trudy) This is it. MORNING: ... My aura drenched with his fraura... MAFFEY: Oh yeah. (He goes to the door and opens it, gesturing Trudy to come in. Harold tries to enter as well, but Amel closes the door on him. He and Trudy remain standing for the duration.) MORNING: ...A forced and violent mixing, froth and foam from his mouth and my heart; pain, a terrible wrenching pain thrusting itself through my nimble body, my fresh, freckled body cringing under the pressure, the wet, putrid pressure of his fat and firmless form.... SHANE: Stop, Ms. Chambers! Now, you're slowly descending the steps. First step twelve, now eleven, then ten, next nine, and eight, down to seven, finally six and... stop! Relax now, Ms. Chambers. You're on step six, a happy step, a safe step. Just relax there until I call you again. (To Maffey in a normal voice) I like to let her dwell for a moment or two afterwards in the unsoiled part of her childhood. So, isn't that something else? MAFFEY: It certainly is. And Ms. Chambers is saying that she did that exact same thing three times in front of her priest during confession? SHANE: (Caustic) Yeah, the slime. And what's more, she had told him beforehand that she had been undergoing hypnotherapy. MAFFEY: Are you the first therapist ever to use hypnosis on Ms. Chambers? SHANE: Yes, and I had to find that out the hard way when I tried to put her under the first time. It took almost a whole session and I ended up having to give her thiopental sodium before it was all over. MAFFEY: Thiopental sodium? You mean you gave her truth serum? SHANE: Yes, if you insist on using the layman's term for it. MAFFEY: And... are you a doctor? SHANE: (Irritable) No, but am I allowed to administer it under the supervision of our clinic director. Like I said, I only used it in Ms. Chambers here's case because she was totally blocked up when I first attempted to put her under. But as you can see for yourself, now she's a snap. MAFFEY: Snap isn't quite the word. What I just saw looked like something bordering on exhibitionism. SHANE: Exactly. And now you can see why that priest weaseled extra performances out of her. MAFFEY: Yeah, but the performance could prove to be a problem in court. No thirteen- year-old I know would ever talk- or move- like that, whether under hypnosis or not. I mean that stuff sounded like it came from a love-novel or something. TRUDY: (Chirping up) That's it! A love-novel! MAFFEY: Ms. Trudy, don't you have some other business to attend to? TRUDY: Excuse me. (She leaves the office) SHANE: Look, just because a patient is recalling an incident from childhood doesn't mean she has to relate it like a child. She's using the language center of a fifty-two-year- old woman now. MAFFEY: Yeah, but the only fifty-two-year-old women who have language centers like that are love-novelists. It simply sounds too artificial for courtroom testimony. SHANE: Please, Mr. Maffey. I've seen enough courtroom dramas in my time to know that Ms. Chambers here really isn't all that unusual a case. MAFFEY: Then you should also know that sexual misconduct testimony is often worth its weight in tears, and Ms. Chambers' performance, fluid though it was, was simply too dry to win over your average jury. SHANE: That's because you men have yet to cross the threshold when a woman's testimony is judged solely on facts and not on emotional outbursts. MAFFEY: What do you mean us men? You should take a look at my ex-wife in divorce court some time. (Trudy sticks her head in through the door) TRUDY: Excuse me, please. (To Amel) Harold needs to speak to you right away. He says it's urgent. MAFFEY: Excuse me for moment, would you. Feel free to bring back Ms. Chambers any time. (He leaves with Trudy) SHANE: (To herself) Sensitive, huh? I knew this would be a waste of time with a male lawyer. Men always try and come across like they're such experts about everything. (To Morning) Now Ms. Chambers, you're going to continue descending the steps. Slowly but firmly, first step five, now four, then three, next two and... stop! Now, slowly take the pressure off your knees. Maintenance is de-activated, Ms. Chambers, maintenance is de-activated. On the count of "she", you will cease to be under and fully in command of your self and person. One, two, "she". (She clicks her finger and thumb together once more. Ms. Chambers comes to and looks around.) MORNING: What happened? Where's Mr. Maffey? Did I scare him away? SHANE: No, he had to step out for a moment. MORNING: How did I do? I don't remember anything? SHANE: You did fine, Ms. Chambers. The lawyer seems to be a little skeptical, but what else can you expect from a man? (Amel comes back in holding Morning's letter) MAFFEY: I see you're with us again, Morning. How do you feel? Would you like anything? MORNING: I feel fine. But could I have the coffee now? MAFFEY: Of course, be my guest. (Morning helps herself under the sternful glare of Denise) I'm afraid an unexpected development has just come up that could prove a disadvantage to our case. SHANE: (Still irritable) What now, counselor? MAFFEY: My clerk Harold happened to be perusing through Ms. Chamber's letter while on his way down to the copy center and noticed that it reads exactly like some famous letter Franz Kafka once wrote to his father a long time ago. SHANE: Who?! Kafka?! That can't be! (She snatches the letter from Amel) MAFFEY: Well, Harold's read just about everything there is to and he's positive it's the same letter. He even showed me one part that just wouldn't jell with Ms. Chambers' situation in life. For example, Morning, does your father happen to be Czech, German, Jewish, or some kind of mixture of all three? MORNING: No. He's American, Catholic and a retired accountant; a definite mixture of all three, I would say. SHANE: This is unbelievable! I sat there and watched her typing this under hypnosis. No book, no notes. I saw nothing there even when I came in to check up on her during my other two sessions. It was just she going away at the typewriter. MAFFEY: Morning, had you ever read this letter of Kafka to his father? MORNING: It's possible, but I don't remember. I once took this course in college called Misery As Twentieth Century German Literature and I'm pretty sure we read Kafka. But then that was some thirty years ago now. MAFFEY: And you don't remember committing this or, say, a collection of Kafka's works to memory during this course? MORNING: I'm sorry, but I really can't say. All I can remember right now is that the professor's name was Schnabel and he was a nasty old man with bad breath and scales on his hands. SHANE: (Flicking through the pages) It's absolutely amazing! I actually tapped a memory well over forty pages long. Think of the precedent. Think of all the actors and opera singers who have trouble recalling their repertoires. MAFFEY: Yeah, well that may be good for business, but until this precedent becomes law, it'll get laughed right out of court. I mean think of the field day the defense'll have questioning Ms. Chambers about her relationship to Mr. Kafka. SHANE: First you wanna throw the letter out because it was written under hypnosis, now you wanna throw it out because it was written by somebody else first. Didn't you know that second-hand evidence is legally admissible in court? MAFFEY: No, as a matter of fact, I didn't, nor would I suspect any judge who hasn't been disbarred yet. In any event, I suggest we put a hold on the letter until we see how the church will react to the charge. If we give them enough warning, they may choose to settle this thing before the summons arrives. SHANE: Now wait a minute. I know something about the law, too. Most settlements usually carry a gag order with them, and I want everybody to know what this bastard and his church did to Ms. Chambers here. MAFFEY: Don't worry about that. I can see to it that the story gets leaked to all the relevant people. But from my experience, a church with any kind of reputation will usually go out of its way to avoid a trial; once dragged into court, however, its lawyers become downright nasty. And we have to think about Morning's condition, especially in view of the fact that she's bound to end up on the stand to offer testimony. With no help from hypnosis, I might add. SHANE: You made your point, counselor. So what is it you suggest we do? MAFFEY: Simple. We call the church, speak with some official there, even the offending priest if he's available, about the matter at hand, and then let them know that a summons will be on it's way next week. Then we just wait for their response. How does that sound to you, Morning? MORNING: Do I have to talk to him? I mean to Reverend Snokes? SHANE: I think you should, Ms. Chambers. I keep trying to impress upon you the fact that confrontation is a vital element in recovery. MAFFEY: Well, why don't I call the church and let's see if he's even there before we get into the issue of confrontation. My phone is equipped with a loudspeaker, so you both can follow along as I talk to them (He picks up the phone) Do either of you by chance know the number? MORNING: Yes, I do, it's 789-... well, it's better that I dial it for you. (She rises and goes over to the phone. While she presses the numbers, Trudy sticks her head in through the door.) TRUDY: Mr. Maffey, I need to speak with you. (He waves her off as the phone on the other end begins to ring and continues until the voice of the Right Reverend Snokes appears on the line. Morning's eyes light up.) SNOKES: The Church of the Good Samaritans on Shady Green Way. How can I help you? MAFFEY: Yes, good morning, ah, whom am I speaking to, please? SNOKES: This is the Right Reverend Snokes. Who am I speaking to? MAFFEY: (He gestures to Morning for confirmation and she quickly nods her head) Well, you're just the man I'm looking for, Reverend Snokes. My name is Amel Maffey, I'm a lawyer for the firm Maffey & Maffey and... SNOKES: Maffey & Maffey? Weren't you the folks behind that horse radish suit last year? MAFFEY: Ah, apparently so, Reverend Snokes, though I myself wasn't involved in it. SNOKES: Well, whoever it was did a mighty big disservice to our church's family day picnic. A hotdog just ain't a hotdog without horse radish, you know. MAFFEY: Yeah, well I'm sorry about that, Reverend, but today I'm calling in regards to another lawsuit now in the works. Are you familiar with a member of your congregation by the name of Morning Chambers? SNOKES: Yes, she's a fine woman. Used to be a Catholic until she joined our denomination. What's the problem? The Pope want her back or something? MAFFEY: No, I'm afraid it's much more serious than that, Reverend. It would seem that Ms. Chambers is accusing you of sexual misconduct on church premises. SNOKES: To what tune? MAFFEY: To what tune what? SNOKES: To what tune is she accusing me? MAFFEY: Oh, ah, three times, each one having occurred during confession, to be exact. SNOKES: Dammit, boy, how much money is she suing me for? MAFFEY: Oh, ah... (He puts his hand over the phone and signals to the women to give him an amount. But they merely look at each other, then him, then each other again...) ...ah, one million dollars. SNOKES: One million dollars! Hell, we didn't even pay that much for the church. Okay, boy, what's the gist? MAFFEY: What gist? SNOKES: I mean the gist of this phone call. Are you looking for a settlement? MAFFEY: That's up to you and your attorney to decide, Reverend. But be advised that I'm planning to deliver the summons to your church come first thing Monday morning. SNOKES: What a fine testament to our times that is. We people of the clergy spend our whole lives trying to deliver you people of the court unto God, and all you can deliver unto us in return is a summons. MAFFEY: Be that as it may, Reverend, that's how the case stands. SNOKES: Is Miss Chambers there? I'd like to talk with her before I discuss anything with my attorney. (Morning shakes her head "no" while Denise shakes hers "yes" and gestures for the phone) MAFFEY: Just a second, Reverend. But please be advised that anything you say can be used in court. SNOKES: Don't try and threaten me with your legal jargon, boy. I'll have you know I spent a year in law school myself, a church one, too, before switching over to theology. MAFFEY: Yeah, I've heard that story before. Here's Ms. Chambers. (Morning reluctantly takes the phone from Amel) MORNING: (Squeaking) Ah... he-hello, Reverend. How are you? SNOKES: Damn, Miss Chambers, here you are planning to sue me and the first thing you say is "How are you?" Miss Chambers, what have you gone off and done now? Who put you up to this? Was it that hefty therapist you were seeing? (Denise assumes an air of indignity) MORNING: No, Reverend, this was the new one, the one who helped me to remember some things from my childhood. SNOKES: Oh yeah, that feminist quack who convinced you you had committed an act of incest with your father. (Denise starts shaking with anger) Miss Chambers, didn't I tell you all that voodoo therapy was simply a lot of hogwash? MORNING: Yes, Reverend, but I swear I can remember it all now. And the reason why I told it to you was because it started making me feel pretty guilty. SNOKES: But, child, you're guilty whether you can remember anything or not. We're born that way. The Bible tells us so. And the reason we're born that way is because Eve got some feminist notion into her head one day and shot everything straight to hell. MORNING: But, Reverend, I don't understand why you asked me to tell you- show you- what the therapist helped me to remember three times. SNOKES: Well, child, that's only because I tell all my flock that they've got to put their whole bodies into their confessions if they're ever gonna drain the sins out of their souls. And you, Miss Chambers, have a lot of excess body and soul. MORNING: But, Reverend... SNOKES: Look, Miss Chambers, I hear the confessional bell now, so I have to run along. You just forget about this lawsuit and therapy nonsense and come back to church. Remember, God is the only authority who has imminent domain over your conscience. Good-bye now and God bless you. (Snokes hangs up the phone on his end. Maffey takes the phone from Morning and hangs it up. She sits down quietly.) SHANE: He sounds just like the slimeball I pictured in my conscience. (Mocking tone) You know, God's imminent domain. MAFFEY: Morning, how do you feel? Would you like something, anything? MORNING: No, no, I'm okay. (Trudy sticks her head in through the door again) TRUDY: Mr. Maffey, I really need to speak to you for a moment. MAFFEY: (Getting up) Excuse me for a second, ladies. (He leaves into the reception room) SHANE: (Comforting) Don't you worry, Ms. Chambers. We'll show that priest who really has imminent domain here. How do you feel? MORNING: I'm all right, I guess. But I'm a little sad. You know, when I asked to join the Good Samaritans, they were really hospitable to me and all. They treated me almost like a member of the family. SHANE: Yeah, a daughter-figure, no doubt. Believe me, Ms. Chambers, we'll cure you of your co-dependency on the church by the time your therapy is through. MORNING: Yeah, but tonight is bingo night. I always had a lot fun at the church on bingo night. It was the highlight of my week. SHANE: But I'm telling you, Ms. Chambers, you don't need any of that anymore. Confession, mass, bingo, all that was just a ruse to keep you in a repressed state. We're going to free you from that now, give you your own life unfettered by medieval patriarchy. (Maffey enters) MAFFEY: Well, it would appear that another little snag has thrown this case out of joint, perhaps for good this time. Are any of you two familiar with this book? (He hands it to Denise) SHANE: (Reading) "A Fine Mesh of Wet-Ass Sins" by Mabel Scotch. No, never heard of it. MAFFEY: (Taking the book from Denise and handing it to Morning) What about you, Morning? MORNING: Oh yes, the secretary at the clinic gave it to me to read while I was waiting for Ms. Shane in the lounge and massage room one afternoon. MAFFEY: Is that true, Ms. Shane? SHANE: It's possible. Normally we ask our patients to abstain from reading at least two hours before hypnotic therapy, inasmuch as fresh information tends to clutter the mind, but then we don't do hypnosis every session, either. Why, what's the snag? MAFFEY: Well, my secretary happens to be reading this book at the moment. It's some trashy love-novel about two women who try some kind of daddy-swap during a weekend in the Bahamas, and she was reminded of a scene in it while listening to the story Morning told under hypnosis. (Reaching down and directing her to a certain page in the book) Would you be so kind, Morning, as to read this passage for us. Out loud, if you would. MORNING: (Starts reading, unsure and using a finger to guide her) ...A forced and violent mixing, froth and foam from his mouth and my heart; pain, a terrible wrenching pain thrusting itself through my supple body, my fresh, freckled body cringing.... SHANE: (Snatching the book from Morning) What the hell is this! MORNING: What? What's wrong? What happened? SHANE: (Looking at the passage) I don't believe this! First the letter and now this. Jesus Christ, Ms. Chambers, where the hell is the real you! MORNING: I don't understand. SHANE: I can't believe all the time and therapy I've wasted trying to help you. That stupid letter cost me three full sessions, and the hypnosis at least twice that much. And what do I get for it!? Franz Kafka and Mabel Scotch!! Who are you, Ms. Chambers? Who in the hell are you? MORNING: But I...I... SHANE: And then I go ahead and cancel another appointment just to sit through this charade. I swear there's no justice when it comes to helping people in this world. MAFFEY: So are you saying you had absolutely nothing to do with this tainted information? SHANE: Please, Mr. Maffey, I'm a professional. Besides, I don't know this woman. (She storms out of the office. Trudy enters.) MORNING: (Rising) But I... I don't even remember reading that part. I... I just don't remember. MAFFEY: (Sympathetic) I know that, Morning. MORNING: But what will I do? Where will I go? MAFFEY: Where can you go, Morning? MORNING: Well, there's always bingo at the church tonight, but... MAFFEY: Go to bingo, Morning. MORNING: Are you sure it would be all right? My horoscope said something divine would happen to me on this day, but I'm not so sure after that phone call. MAFFEY: I'm sure it will be all right with the reverend. Go to bingo, Morning. MORNING: Well, I'm sorry for all your trouble, Mr. Maffey. If I get lucky tonight, I'll be sure to remember you. MAFFEY: I'm sure you will, Morning. Good-bye now and good luck. (He walks her through the door and closes it) TRUDY: The poor woman. Isn't there any way we can help her? MAFFEY: Help her? Who the hell's going to help us if we don't come up with that affidavit today? TRUDY: Yes, yes, I know. But look, my search has already turned up one thing you may find of interest. (She hands him a folder) MAFFEY: What's this? TRUDY: It's a brief Janet had filed concerning the horse radish suit. MAFFEY: Jesus Christ, Trudy, I don't give a rat's ass about horse radish right now! I need that affidavit! TRUDY: I know, I know. I even sent Harold down to the dumpster to continue the search there again. MAFFEY: Look, Trudy, have a seat here for a moment, will you. (She sits down, somewhat hesitantly, and he follows opposite her) Now I want you to concentrate on the last thing you remember about that affidavit. Concentrate, concentrate. Now picture yourself on a stairwell, a clean and green stairwell and... you're going up the stairs and down the stairs, up the stairs and down the stairs, up the stairs and down the stairs.... CURTAIN