Part 17 (1/2)
”John and Lenore's. Clarice's. Lenore's window.”
”Lenore was in the window.”
”It cracked.”
”The trellis.”
”Yes.”
”Who was with Lenore?”
”I need to breathe.”
”Breathe. Here, breathe. Let me wipe off your lip.”
”Thank you. Lenore's governess was with Lenore.”
”What was her name?”
”I don't know the name of Lenore's governess.”
”Who was a prisoner?”
”Punish me, please.”
”Was Lenore a prisoner?”
”It would be so fun to breathe.”
”Was Lenore a prisoner?”
”My son is in horrible trouble, in the south. Higher than the trellis in the south. Smitten from afar. My son is burning in a white place. My son's eyes are white now. Needs something to make himself dark, in the game. Cut.”
”Patrice. Breathe.”
”I can't.”
”Yes you can. You are. Watch yourself breathe, Patrice.” ”....”
”Was Lenore a prisoner?”
”No she was not a ... prisoner.”
”Why not?”
”G.o.d.”
”Why not?”
”My son.”
”Who was the prisoner, Patrice?”
”Who was the prisoner, Patrice?”
”Good morning how are you this morning.”
PARTIAL TRANSCRIPT OF RAP SESSION, THURSDAY, 26 AUGUST 1990, IN THE OFFICE OF DR. CURTIS JAY, PH.D. PARTIc.i.p.aNTS: DR. CURTIS JAY AND MR. RICK.
VIGOROUS, AGE 42, FILE NUMBER 744-25-4291.
DR. JAY: h.e.l.l of a dream.
RICK VIGOROUS: Bet your a.s.s.
JAY: Mice, again.
RICK: Hate mice.
JAY: Yes?
RICK: Yes.
JAY: Can we possibly articulate why?
RICK: Mice are small, soft, and weak. Mice scuttle. Mice get inside things and gnaw. Mice tickle.
JAY: Pretty unclean animals, too, aren't they?
RICK: Dr. Jay, I swear to G.o.d, mention hygiene anxiety just once, here, and I'm going to lunge.
JAY: The prospect of discussing hygiene anxiety makes you uncomfortable.
RICK: Lunge-alert.
JAY: Fine. Your comfort is after all our number one priority, here. RICK: d.a.m.n well ought to be.
JAY: What would you like to talk about, then?
RICK : Lenore.
JAY: I rather think not, today, if you don't mind.
RICK: Pardon me?