Our players are really getting into their roles as we move toward the climax.
Again, as a reminder--watch the dates, ##### bookends radio announcements, the characters in the play are shown by both character name/Smallville name.
Hope you like this section.
From Part 15
Wayne Irig, who’d been going over his script, joined the two adversaries on stage. Wayne, playing Dr. Einstein, a character subservient to Richard’s role, but a man who really didn’t enjoy hurting others as did the maniacal Jonathan Brewster, looked up the stairs at Clark and then back down to Richard who stood center stage.
The two men were obviously getting right into character, as Wayne Irig sensed the animosity and malice erupting between them. It looked like it was going to be very easy for him to act as a nervous Dr. Einstein while Jonathan Brewster prepared to murder Mortimer.
***********
***********
Now Part 16
Smallville, Kansas
Monday,
February 21, 1994
8:05 p.m.
Lex Luthor, in his masquerade as Richard Thurston, took center stage--a position that was becoming increasingly gratifying to a man of Luthor’s ego.
“Okay, Wayne,” Martha directed. “Everyone’s in their places. Take it from your line.”
Dr. Einstein/Wayne Irig: Come on, Chonny, let’s go up, yes?
JB/Richard: You’re forgetting, Doctor.
Dr. Einstein/Wayne Irig: Vat?
JB/Richard: My brother Mortimer.
Dr. Einstein/Wayne Irig: Chonny--tonight? Ve do dat tomorrow or da next day.
JB/Richard: [Seething.] No, tonight! Now!
Dr. Einstein/Wayne Irig: [Begging.] Chonny, please--I’m tired...
JB/Richard: [Crossing over to Dr. Einstein.] Doctor, look at me. You can see it’s going to be done, can’t you?
Wayne looked at Richard. The hatred in his eyes was obvious. Richard Thurston was doing an incredible job acting as the sadistic, malicious over confident role of Jonathan Brewster.
Dr. Einstein/Wayne Irig: [Retreating.] Ach, Chonny--I can see. I know dat look! O.K., ve do it. But da quick vay. Da quick twist, like in London [He uses his hands in a quick twisting motion and makes a noise suggesting strangulation.]
JB/Richard: No, Doctor, I think this calls for something special. [He walks toward Dr. Einstein/Wayne with a look of evil anticipation.] I think perhaps the Melbourne method.
Clark awaiting his entrance cue, listened to Richard’s malevolent interpretation of his last line. From his delivery, Clark could tell that Thurston was obviously deriving great satisfaction from the thought of killing Clark’s character. As Clark moved slightly to the left to get a better look at Richard, he knew that his earlier uneasiness about the new member of the Smallville Players had grown into a stark realization that Thurston was not the man he seemed--that there was something beneath the façade of graciousness.
Clark ran his hand through his hair impatiently. Only a few more lines and he could join the two men on stage, but for some reason it seemed interminable--giving him much too much time to ponder his recent decisions.
From his position behind the masking of the second floor, it was now beginning to be all too apparent that Richard had plans for Clark. Richard had already stepped into Lois’ life and Clark was becoming alarmed that Lois couldn’t see Thurston for what he was. But it was no longer Clark’s job to protect her. Hadn’t he relinquished that role when he had broken off their engagement two weeks before? Hadn’t he been the one who had stupidly denied their future together? Hadn’t he been the one that had thrust her right into Richard’s waiting arms?
Wayne Irig, as directed, shook his head slowly, and deliberately walked away and then turned back to look at Richard.
Out in the auditorium, Martha Kent made a few notes on her large legal pad. She had to tell Wayne that her previous direction--a direction, which suggested quite a long pause between Richard’s line and that of Wayne’s, just wasn’t working. The pause was uncomfortable for the audience and slowed down the action too much. Wayne’s next line should come right on top of Richard’s previous line--the line talking about the Melbourne method. It was much more effective that way.
Dr. Einstein/Wayne Irig: Chonny--no--not dat. Two hours! And ven it was all over, vat? Da fellow in London vas chust as dead as da fellow in Melbourne.
JB/Richard: We had to work too fast in London. There was no esthetic satisfaction in it--but Melbourne, ah, *there* was something to remember.
Richard crossed over to look out the set’s window as he said his line. He moved the curtain and fingered it with hand while he waited for Wayne Irig to follow up with the next line. Lex took that instant to gloat. Yes, they, too, will all remember the revenge that he, Lex, had executed upon those that would dare defy him. Only a few left to make his retaliation complete.
Dr. Einstein/Wayne Irig: Remember! [He shivers.] I vish I didn’t. No, Chonny--not Melbourne--not me!
Lex continued to look out the stage window that Jonathan Kent had built. On three flats that masked the Brewster’s living room window, Jonathan had painted a gothic representation of an old cemetery complete with grave markers, all of which were askewed and overgrown with twisted ivy and weeds. Luthor’s mind wandered as he envisioned names on each of the tombstones: Bill Saxon, Deborah Joy LeVine, Vivian Cox, Barb Friskin, Nigel St. John, Sheldon Bender, Gretchen Kelly, and Mayson Drake.
The Technical Director had also painted one large imposing mausoleum on the center flat--supposedly to house an important family’s remains. Luthor smiled to himself as he pictured the name of Kent emblazoned on that monolith and beside it two additional graves: Lois Lane and Superman. But he couldn’t let himself take pleasure in this diversion. Richard, as the blocking called for, turned to look over his shoulder at Dr. Einstein/Wayne with a cool, calculating expression. And then slowly, very slowly, articulated the next line.
JB/Richard: Yes, Doctor. Now...where...are the instruments?
Martha smiled and jotted down another note. That reading of the line was flawless. Richard had Jonathan Brewster down pat. His grasp of the character’s ego, need for power, ruthlessness, and amoral affectation was perfect. It was as if he were....
Martha looked up from her notes and stared at Richard Thurston.
On stage, Richard took a couple of steps toward Wayne.
Dr. Einstein/Wayne Irig: I von’t do it, Chonny--I von’t do it.
JB/Richard: [Advancing on Dr. Einstein/Wayne Irig more.] Get your instruments!
Dr. Einstein/Wayne Irig: No, Chonny!
JB/Richard: [Going to the cellar door.] I’ll get them, Doctor.
***********
***********
Smallville, Kansas
Monday,
February 21, 1994
8:15 p.m. CST
Libby Barton had left rehearsals when Richard Thurston had entered. They were done rehearsing Aunt Martha’s parts and Libby needed to go home and rest--she needed to go home and deal with her conscience.
Miss Libby entered her house, threw off her coat and looked at her cellar door. She walked toward it, put her fingers up to feel the wood grain and slowly slid her hand down to the doorknob and grasped it. Libby Barton closed her eyes. Keeping secrets! That’s what all of this had been about. Her family secrets! Was she ready to reveal all? Could she tell everyone that Lex Luthor was alive and the corpses in the cellar were the stages Laslo Barton had gone through to achieve the formula, the formula that resurrected Luthor? No! She wasn’t ready.
She removed her hand and walked away from the door, the door to the graves that rested beneath her. But if she didn’t tell, and something happened, it would be her fault. Gratefully the deaths had stopped. But was it just a hiatus? Was there more being planned? Was Luthor ready to kill again?
***********
On the set of Smallville Players’ ‘Arsenic and Old Lace’ JB/Richard opened the cellar door and started down the supposed stairs; while at the same time, Mortimer/Clark started down from the “second floor” and arrived to face Dr. Einstein/Wayne Irig.
Dr. Einstein/Wayne Irig: [Anxious to get Clark/Mortimer out of the house.] Ah, you go now, eh?
Mortimer/Clark: No, Doctor, I’m waiting for something. Something important.
Dr. Einstein/Wayne Irig: Please--you go now!
Mortimer/Clark: I have nothing against you personally. You seem to be a nice fellow. Take my advice and get out of this house and get just as far away as possible.
Dr. Einstein/Wayne Irig: Trouble, yah! *You* get out.
Mortimer/Clark: [Crossing to center stage.] All right, don’t say I didn’t warn you.
Dr. Einstein/Wayne Irig: I’m varning you--get avay quick.
Mortimer/Clark: Things are going to start popping around here any minute.
Dr. Einstein/Wayne Irig: Listen--Chonny’s in a bad mood. Ven he’s like dis, he’s a madman--tings happen--terrible tings.
Mortimer/Clark: Jonathan doesn’t worry me now.
But Clark was worried. There were so many pieces, but his mind couldn’t seem to connect the dots. There was Miss Libby and her supposed murders, there were the mysterious deaths in Smallville, there was Richard’s arrival on the scene and there was this play and everyone’s deep seeded need to perform it.
Dr. Einstein/Wayne Irig: Ach, himmel--don’t dose plays you see teach you anyting?
Mortimer/Clark: About what?
Dr. Einstein/Wayne Irig: Vell, at least people in plays act like dey got sense--dat’s more dan you do.
<Sense,> Clark thought. That was true! A lot of sense *he* had. He couldn’t make heads or tales out of everything that was happening. And so much was happening--Lois, all the deaths, Lois almost dying, Richard, Lois and Richard, Miss Libby’s house, Lois and her class assignment, a play about murders, a play with Miss Libby as a murderer, a play with Richard as a murderer, a play with Lois in danger, and a play where the hero figures it all out. But he couldn’t--he couldn’t figure it out. He couldn’t....
“Think!” Martha called out.
“Right, mom,” Clark responded.
Mortimer/Clark: [Interested in Dr. Einstein/Wayne’s observation.] Oh, you think so, do you? You think people in plays act intelligently. I wish you had to sit through some of the ones I have to sit through. Take the little opus I saw tonight for instance. In this play, there’s a man--he supposed to be bright... [Jonathan Brewster/Richard enters from the cellar with the instrument case, stands in the cellar doorway and listens to Mortimer/Clark.] ...he knows he’s in a house with murderers--he ought to know he’s in danger--he’s even been warned to get out of the house--but does he go? No, he stays there. Now I ask you, Doctor, is that what an intelligent person would do?
Dr. Einstein/Wayne Irig: You’re asking me?
Mortimer/Clark: He didn’t even have sense enough to be frightened, to be on guard. For instance, the murderer invites him to sit down.
Dr. Einstein/Wayne Irig: [He moves so as to keep Mortimer/Clark from seeing Jonathan Brewster/Richard.] You mean-- “Von’t you sit down?”
Mortimer/Clark [Reaches out and pulls an armchair to him so it winds up stage right of the table. He does this without turning his head from Dr Einstein/Wayne.] Believe it or not, that one was in there too.
Dr. Einstein/Wayne Irig: And vat did he do?
Mortimer/Clark: [Sitting in the armchair.] He sat down. [And as directed by Martha, Mortimer/Clark keeps his back to Jonathan Brewster/Richard and overdramatically gestures to explain the stupidity of the actor he had seen earlier that evening.] Now mind you, this fellow’s supposed to be bright. There he sits--just waiting to be trussed up. And what do you thing they use to tie him with.
Dr. Einstein/Wayne Irig: Vat?
Mortimer/Clark: The curtain cord.
[Jonathan Brester/Richard does a double take as Martha directed him to do and spies the curtain cords on either side of the window situated in the left wall. He crosses, stands on the window-seat and cuts the cords with a pen-knife he has removed from his pocket.]
Dr. Einstein/Wayne Irig: Vell, vhy not? A good idea. Very convenient.
Mortimer/Clark: A little too convenient. When are playwrights going to use some imagination! The curtain cord!
[Jonathan Brewster/Richard has got the curtain cord and is moving in slowly behind Mortimer/Clark.]
Dr. Einstein/Wayne Irig: He didn’t see him get it?
Mortimer/Clark: See him? He sat there with his back to him. That’s the kind of stuff we have to suffer through night after night. And they say the critics are killing the theatre--it’s the playwrights who are killing the theatre. So there he sits--the big dope--this fellow who’s supposed to be bright--just waiting to be trussed up and gagged.
[Jonathan Brewster/Richard drops the loop of curtain cord around Mortimer/Clark’s neck and draws it taut.]
*********
Lois opened the curtain of her bedroom window to let the moonlight stream in and turned off her bedside lamp. She had finished grading some papers and needed to finally get to bed early. She had been out with Richard almost every night and since he had a long rehearsal scheduled, this would be her first chance to get some needed rest. She got into bed and closed her eyes, but *his* face was there in front of her--Clark’s face. She sighed as she remembered touching his face that last night--the night he had broken her heart.
Lois couldn’t shut him out of her thoughts. She tried to sleep, but Clark was there, hovering just beyond reach. She had to do something to keep from thinking of him. Glancing over at the script by her bedside, she decided to run her lines--a little exercise that she tried to make time to do every night--just saying her lines out loud and imagining the responses.
Lois looked out the window at the full moon that shone through the bare branches of the trees. It gave a sort of gothic feel to the room--exactly what she needed to get her in the mood for the author’s words. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and quietly began her lines from Act II.
Elaine/Lois: “We’re here alone together.
She paused and silently recalled Clark’s next line.
Mortimer: I know I’m acting irrationally, but just put it down to the fact that I’m a mad Brewster.
Elaine/Lois: If you think you’re going to get out of this by pretending you’re insane--you’re crazy. Maybe you’re not going to marry me, but I’m going to marry you. I love you, you dope.
A tear slowly tracked its way down her face as she imagined Clark’s next line.
Mortimer: Well, if you love me, will you get the hell out of here!
Elaine/Lois: Well, at least take me home, won’t you? I’m afraid.
Mortimer: Afraid! Afraid of a little walk through the cemetery?
Lois paused, as she thought of the blocking that Martha had given her. She was supposed to walk slowly and seductively around Mortimer and then coming up right in front of him, deliver the next line.
Elaine/Lois: Mortimer, will you kiss me good night?
Lois heard something--she wasn’t quite sure what. She opened her eyes. The eeriness of the room, the lines about the cemetery, caused her to very carefully sit up straighter in bed. She turned her head and saw a shadow of a man in the doorway of her bedroom. She should have been afraid, but the outline of his body was so tauntingly familiar. He walked slowly toward her. The moonlight illuminated his face--the face she loved. “Clark!”
“Yes, I’m here,” he said sitting on the edge of the bed and taking her in his arms. “And I *will* kiss you good night.”
“Oh, Clark,” Lois said and kissed him passionately--her lips parting, letting him explore her mouth with his tongue.
“Lois do you want me to...” he asked.
“Yes, oh yes,” she whispered, pulling him back to kiss her again.
Clark carefully slipped onto the bed and beneath the covers next to her as his mouth continued to seek out ways to inflame her while his body molded itself next to hers. His hand cupped the side of her face and then turned slowly so that the back of his fingers traced her cheekbone down to her chin and then ever so tenderly stroked and caressed her neck to move down as he gently fingered the lace edging of her night gown.
Lois felt herself responding, wanting him desperately. She reached up to encircle his neck and found nothing there. She opened her eyes and realizing that she had been dreaming, sank back into her pillow. She turned over and burying her face, began to sob.
***********
“Stop it!” Martha Kent called out to Richard from the dark.
The characters on stage looked out at the director expectantly.
“Uh...uh...” Martha began. She knew that she had no earthly reason to have interrupted the actors. As a director, she was applauding the reality that Richard gave to his performance; but as a mother, her instinct to protect her young was paramount. But even that was no excuse because Clark was invulnerable and was impervious to Richard’s attempt to strangle him. Yet, it was the look on Richard’s face that she was reacting to. He was simply enjoying this way too much. It appeared to Martha that Richard’s instincts were to destroy rather than preserve. And, again, that seemed all too familiar to her--as if she had encountered him before--in some old memory.
***********
***********
Smallville, Kansas
Monday,
May 23, 1966
1:40 p.m. CDT
##### KSML ANNOUNCER: This is KSML news. The U.S. Air Force assures us that the strange light seen over Smallville last week was a downed weather balloon which has since been retrieved. Now for sports. Smallville High School’s Cyclone Baseball team was successful in reaching the regional play-offs. They will face the West Topeka High School Tigers on Saturday. #####
Jonathan reached over and turned off the radio. “I think we can relax a little, now.”
Martha Kent sat in the rocking chair that Jonathan had built for her and softly cooed to the baby in her arms.
There was a loud knock on the door. “Jonathan,” his wife called out.
“I’ll get it,” Jonathan said simultaneously.
At the door stood two men, both in traditional gray suits. They flashed government identifications and without waiting to be invited, made their way into the living room.
“What can we do for you?” Jonathan asked, glancing nervously at Martha and their new son.
“We’re visiting all the homes within a two mile radius of Shuster’s field,” the taller of the two agents explained.
Martha and Jonathan looked at each other.
“Have you ever seen this man?” the other agent asked Jonathan, showing him a photograph. “He was on assignment here and has turned up missing.”
Jonathan looked at the picture and then showed it to Martha. “Nope,” he said, somewhat relieved that he could answer honestly. “Never have seen him. What about you, Martha?”
Martha stared at the picture. She spent a long time taking in the sadistic features of the man in the photograph. “No,” she said succinctly.
The two men surveyed the couple. “So, Colonel Trask did not come to question you about the meteorite that landed in Shuster’s Field,” the first agent asked suspiciously.
“I don’t know anything about a meteorite,” Jonathan responded truthfully. “The radio said it was a weather balloon.”
“I would definitely remember if I ever saw that man,” Martha interrupted them.
“Thank you,” the second agent replied signaling for his partner and himself to leave.
“Do you think they’ll be back?” Martha asked Jonathan once they were out the door.
“I think they’re just looking for the Colonel and not for this little one,” Jonathan said as he walked over to Martha and placed a kiss on his son’s head. “Clark’s ours. We’ll just have to be careful for awhile.”
***********
***********
Smallville, Kansas
Monday,
February 21, 1994
10:15 p.m. CST
Martha carefully watched the players on the stage. Why had that old memory come back to her now? The face in the picture bore absolutely no resemblance to the man on stage except for maybe the eyes--something about the eyes. Well she had to tell the actors something. After all, she had stopped them.
“Richard,” Martha began. “That’s exactly what I want. It’s just sadistic enough.” <Maybe too much> she thought, unless it was just because it was Clark. Clark didn’t require her to watch out for him, not now, not like when he was a baby. Yet, Martha knew that at times he still needed her. He especially needed her now--now when he was so lost without Lois.
“Uh...Clark I have two notes for you. One concerns a scene that we will be doing Wednesday. I know it’s odd that I stopped you now, but the thought just came to me. The other note *is* about this scene. Just have patience with me.”
Wayne walked up to Clark and removed his gag. “Well, Madame Director,” Clark said smiling. “It’s hard to argue with you especially since I’m bound and gagged...was gagged,” he corrected. “But I’ll debate the changes if you want me to.”
“I don’t think you’ll want to,” Martha insisted. “In your last scene with Elaine, I’d like you to add a kiss. I believe that when Elaine jumps into Mortimer’s arms that a hug just isn’t enough. *You* aren’t doing enough,” his mother demanded. “It’s the reconciliation scene. The two of you, uh...have been upset, angry and lost and you need to show the audience that you’ve found each other again,” she explained as she glanced over toward Richard who was knotting and unknotting the cord in his hands.
“Okay, mom,” Clark responded, realizing a lecture when he heard it.
“I’ll tell Lois about the change tomorrow,” the director informed him. “Also, Clark, when you say your line about ‘He sat there with his back to him’, can you make the chair jump just a tad to emphasize the line. That will be funnier and juxtapose the sadistic character Richard is presenting.”
Clark looked at his mother and smiled. He could make the chair fly if she wanted it to. “Sure, mom,” Clark told her.
Martha tilted her head slightly and realized the inside joke and chuckled. “Fine. Now just go back the two lines and let’s try it again from your cue, Wayne.”
Wayne stuffed the gag back into Clark’s mouth and moved to his position.
Dr. Einstein/Wayne Irig: He didn’t see him get it?
Mortimer/Clark: See him? He sat there with his back to him. [He makes the chair jump.] That’s the kind of stuff we have to suffer through night after night. And they say the critics are killing the theatre--it’s the playwrights who are killing the theatre. So there he sits [He adds another jump.] --the big dope--this fellow who’s supposed to be bright--just waiting to be trussed up and gagged.
[Jonathan Brewster/Richard drops the loop of curtain cord over Mortimer/Clark’s shoulder and draws it taut. At the same time he throws the other loop of cord on the floor beside Dr. Einstein/Wayne Irig who leaps to Mortimer and gags him with a handkerchief, then takes his curtain cord and ties Clark’s legs to the chair.]
JB/Richard: Now, Mortimer, if you don’t mind--we’ll finish the story. [He goes to the sideboard and brings two candelabras to the table and speaks as he lights them. Dr. Einstein/Wayne Irig remains kneeling beside Mortimer/Clark, making sure the cord is secure.] Mortimer, I’ve been away for twenty years, but never once in all that time--my dear brother--were you out of my mind. In Melbourne one night, I dreamed of you--when I landed in San Francisco I felt a strange satisfaction--once more I was in the same country with you. [Jonathan Brewster/Richard has finished lighting the candles. He crosses down right and flips the light-switch darkening the stage. As JB/Richard crosses, Dr. Einstein/Wayne gets up and counter-crosses to the window-seat. JB/Richard picks up the instrument case at the cellar doorway and sets it on the table between the candelabras and opens it, revealing various macabre-looking surgical instruments both in the bottom of the case and on the inside of the cover.]
Linda Botts, standing at the rear of the auditorium was waiting for that piece of business. She came down the aisle and sat down next to Martha in the audience and whispered to her. “Is that the kind of case and instruments you wanted, Martha?” she asked. “It seems that our new doctor in town, Dr. Post, the one that replaced, Toni Baines, has a collection of old instruments and he was very helpful to me.”
“It’s perfect,” Martha said, still eyeing Richard’s fascination with this scene and his inability to resist fondling the instruments as he considered which to use. Martha knew that she had asked Richard to create that kind of a character, but he seemed more type cast than she had originally thought.
JB/Richard: Now, Doctor, we go to work! [He removes an instrument from the case and once again fingers it lovingly, as Dr. Einstein/Wayne Irig crosses and sits on the chair at the left of the table. As directed, Wayne appears none too happy about all of this.]
Dr. Einstein/Wayne Irig: Please, Chonny, for me, the quick vay!
JB/Richard: Doctor! This must really be an artistic achievement. After all, we’re performing before a very distinguished critic.
Dr. Einstein/Wayne Irig: Chonny!
JB/Richard: [Flaring.] Doctor!
Dr. Einstein/Wayne Irig: [Beaten.] All right. Let’s get it over. [He closes the curtains tightly and sits on the window-seat. JB/Richard takes three or four more instruments out of the case and fingers them. At last, having the necessary equipment laid out on the towel he has removed from the case, he takes out a pair of rubber gloves and begins to put them on.]
Clark, who as Mortimer, is still bound hand and foot and was pretending to struggle, but not too much as it would be so easy for him to burst his ties. Also, he was not in the habit of upstaging the actor who the audience was supposed to be focusing on. Clark was, as an actor, as he was in real life, generous and supportive. He never craved center stage. But he was now watching a man who obviously did. Richard was in his glory--a maniacal madman who loved murder and who had Lois in his clutches. This was wrong, seriously wrong, and no matter what his current relationship with Lois, Clark had to do something about it.
JB/Richard: All ready for you, Doctor!
And Clark was going to be ready for Richard. He would finish the rehearsal and begin some investigating. Clark thought about the slip of paper that was resting in his pocket. <Resurrection.> It had to mean something. But what? There hadn’t been any unusual deaths in Smallville since Mayson; and Superman had kept him so busy that he had put the idea of some sort of conspiracy out of his mind. But looking at Richard, refreshed the hunch he first had--that Richard’s appearance in Smallville was too coincidentally tied to the string of deaths. Clark’s attempt to not dwell on his break up with Lois, also had him redirecting his energies away from his first inclinations. But now, now he had to.
Dr. Einstein/Wayne Irig: I gotta have a drink. I can’t do dis vitout a drink.
[He takes a bottle from his pocket. Drinks. He finds that it’s empty and rises.]
JB/Richard: Pull yourself together, Doctor.
Dr. Einstein/Wayne Irig: I gotta have a drink. Ven ve valked in here dis afternoon dere vas vine here--remember? Vere did she put dat? [He looks at the sideboard and remembers. He goes to it, opens the left cupboard and brings the bottle and two wine glasses to the down stage end of the dining table.] Look, Chonny, ve got a drink. [He pours wine into the glasses, emptying the bottle. Mortimer/Clark watches him.] Dat’s all dere is. I split it with you. Ve both need a drink. [He hands one glass to JB/Richard, then raises his own glass to his lips. JB/Richard stops him.]
JB/Richard: One moment, Doctor--please. Where are your manners? [He moves down stage to the right of Mortimer/Clark and looks at him.] Yes, Mortimer, I realize now it was you, you and the others who live in this provincial town who brought me back here...brought me back so I can seek my revenge...so I can make all of you pay for what you had done to me....so I can...
Clark, Wayne and Martha were staring at Richard. The lines were close to what the author had written, but yet different.
“Sorry,” Richard said. “I got carried away with the moment.”
“Can we go back and try it once more,” Martha asked.
"There is nothing impossible to him who will try," Richard quoted.
Clark stared at Richard in astonishment and then looked down at his hands that were bound to the chair. He could easily break those bonds and reach into the pocket where the single word, written on a folded piece of paper lay--to look at it, to read it once again--to have it stimulate his thinking. Resurrection--was it possible?
Clark looked back at the man who was circling him. Had Richard’s ego allowed him to think so little of those around him that he could allow this evening’s slip? Or was Clark imagining things. As Richard circled in front of him and bent down to look at his hated brother, Clark hung his head down and looking over his glasses at Richard, utilized his x-ray vision to see traces of facial scaring.
Nothing impossible, Richard had said. A quotation from Alexander the Great--delivered so eloquently by none other than Lex Luthor.
JB/Lex Luthor: One moment, Doctor, please. Where are your manners? [He moves down stage to the right of Mortimer/Clark and looks at him.] Yes, Mortimer, I realize now it was you who brought me back here...[He looks at the wine, then draws it back and forth under his nose smelling it. He apparently decides that it’s up to his standards for he raises his glass in a toast...] Doctor--to my dear dead brother.... [JB/Luthor sneered at Mortimer/Clark whose eyes had taken on a more determined look.]
tbc
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