The Mirror Man
ACT THREE
Darius begins appraising the contents in the room around him, all the while Max is idly bouncing a tennis ball against the warehouse wall.
DARIUS: You know, the more I think about it, the more I see there’s nothing in this man’s life that I can begin to “connect” with. He isn’t a philosopher or an inventor or a pioneer in some great scientific endeavor. I’m used to working with men with a purpose, great men striving for some great discovery. But what have I got to work with here?
Max tosses the ball against the wall some more, while Darius attempts to get his attention by “materializing” long enough to appear to throw the ball back to him in a “friendly” game of catch. Max freaks out, though.
MAX: What the hell!
DARIUS: Maximus, please, don’t be afraid. I’m your friend. I was sent to help you. Please, I mean you no harm.
MAX: No way, man! Get the hell away from me, you stinking apparition from the abyss! Go back to where you belong, right now!
Frustrated, Darius withdraws, disappearing back through the wall. Max tries to stifle his fear as he frantically looks around like a paranoid person who thinks someone is already watching him for unusual behavior. Then, a stick pokes Max from behind. It’s two GIGGLING children who tease him.
CHILD ONE: Show us your funny faces, mister.
CHILD TWO: Yeah, do yer faces!
Suddenly, Max’s face metamorphoses through several of his favorite cops-and-robbers faces. First, he looks like Robert DeNiro.
MAX (as Robert DeNiro): You … you talkin’ to me? I don’t see anyone else around. You talkin’ to me?
Then he looks like Jimmy Cagney.
MAX (CONT’D) (as Jimmy Cagney): I’m gonna git you guys, see — you dirty little rats!
Then he’s Clint Eastwood.
MAX (CONT’D) (as Clint Eastwood): Go ahead, punks, make my day.
The children GIGGLE with delight. Then Max looks like Edward G. Robinson.
MAX (CONT’D) (as Edward G. Robinson): Is this the end of Rico?
Again he’s Cagney.
MAX (CONT’D) (as Jimmy Cagney): Top o' the world, Ma!
Then back to Clint Eastwood.
MAX (CONT’D) (as Clint Eastwood): So you have to ask yourself one thing, punk. Do ya’ feel lucky?
The children LAUGH gleefully.
MAX (CONT’D) (as Clint Eastwood): Well, do ya?
Suddenly, Max’s face starts distorting grotesquely. His face mutates between several of his television personas.
MAX (CONT’D) (agonizing): No, not again! Why does this keep happening?
Story Continues Below
To hear Kent talk about the little-known biblical prophecy, which speaks of the 5,500-year chronology from Adam to Christ, with Zen Garcia, the host of the Internet talk show Secrets Revealed, CLICK BELOW.
Story Continues From Above
The children start SCREAMING.
MAX (CONT’D): Will this nightmare end? Stop looking at me that way!
CHILD ONE: You’re a freak!
CHILD TWO: He’s evil!
MAX: Oh, God, no! I am so sorry. Please, wait! I’m not a bad man.
For a moment, his face returns to normal and the children calm down a bit.
MAX (CONT’D): I’m feeling better now, really. Everything’s fine now, see? I’m under control again … Okay?
The children stare back, hesitantly.
MAX (CONT’D): I can’t tell you how sorry I am.
Then his face turns into a horrible monster, right out of a child’s worst nightmare.
CHILD ONE (screeching): Run!
CHILD TWO: Help, Daddy, the boogie man is after us!
Frantically, the children run out of the room, SCREAMING uncontrollably. Darius turns to Cornelius in horror.
DARIUS: What in God’s Name is going on?
CORNELIUS: Mister Middlefax, do you have any idea what year it is?
Darius takes another look at Max, whose monstrous face slowly returns to normal again. Then he looks back at Cornelius.
DARIUS: Off the top of my head, I’d say it was two thousand and thirty-two A.D. Why?
CORNELIUS: Pardon me for saying so, sir, but there seems to be a slight problem with your perception of reality. I’m afraid you’re slipping. Max Drexel may look twenty-nine, but he’s actually fifty-eight years old. This isn’t the year two thousand and thirty-two.
DARIUS: What?
CORNELIUS: Look closer to the things around you. It’s the year two thousand and sixty-one!
DARIUS: But how can this be? How did Max survive the biosynthesis process without my help?
CORNELIUS: I think you need to take another look at him, Mister Middlefax. Take a very good look this time.
Max is trembling, still shaken from his ordeal.
MAX (muttering to himself): Why does this always happen at the worst possible time? I can’t take it any more. First, my own body goes to war against me; now, I’m losing my mind. Please, God, make it stop. I just want this all to end.
CORNELIUS: What, pray tell, makes you think he “survived” the program? The military rejected him as soon as it became clear he was unable to endure the biosynthesis procedure. Rejected by his own on every side, he’s wandered for nearly thirty years, from job to job, just trying to blend in, trying to make due after being thrown out like a defective toaster.
DARIUS: Couldn’t you have given him a helping hand, some ray of hope to steer him clear of this futility and misery?
CORNELIUS: What’s the use? I’m afraid he’s been nothing but a shell of a man for far too long … a hollow man without purpose, without love — a dead man soon to be buried by the dead.
DARIUS: But I thought you were his Guardian. What do you guys do all day long, anyway? The man deserved better than this. Certainly you must have cared about him a little.
CORNELIUS: How charming, almost quaint. You’re actually beginning to sound like them, you know … almost human. But you know as well as I do: We all have our orders.
DARIUS: Yes … yes, of course … I see.
Suddenly, a SINGLE GUNSHOT RINGS OUT.
DARIUS (CONT’D): Dear God, what was that?
CORNELIUS: It seems as though our friend has shot himself once through the left temple.
They both turn to see the sprawled-out body.
DARIUS: Is he dead?
CORNELIUS: I’m afraid Maximus Drexel died on a military operating table … thirty years ago.
Darius shudders.
DARIUS: Oh, no. I am so sorry, my boy. I failed you when you needed me most.
Growing dizzier by the moment, Darius’ eyes roll around into the back of his head.
CORNELIUS: Mister Middlefax, are you all right? You suddenly don’t look so good. What on Electra is wrong? If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were about to —
Darius keels over and hits the floor like a sack of potatoes.
CORNELIUS (CONT’D): Faint.
The next thing he knows, Darius is being shaken awake by Cornelius.
CORNELIUS: Mister Middlefax. Are you all right, sir?
DARIUS: Yes, of course, I’m fine. What happened?
CORNELIUS: What do you mean, what happened? You left here yesterday determined to fix your problem. Now, I find you here, laying casually about on the Drexel’s living room couch. Can we assume, then, that you took care of your little problem?
DARIUS: Yes, of course… I remember now… What time is it?
CORNELIUS: Time? Time? For Electra’s sake, man, it’s time to get hold of yourself.
DARIUS: Indeed it is, Mister Fassbinder, indeed it is.
CORNELIUS: You certainly are a strange fellow, no doubt about that.
DARIUS: Please, excuse me. I don’t seem to be myself lately. Where are we again?
CORNELIUS (getting frustrated): I told you already; you’re in the living room of Rex and Julia Drexel. Now please, Mister Middlefax, ready yourself. The family is coming home this very moment. If we’re lucky, we’ll get to see young Maximus before his parents put him to bed.
Suddenly, REX and JULIA DREXEL enter through the garage. A sleepy-eyed, eight-year-old MAX is holding his father’s hand. Julia is the first to notice the mess on the kitchen floor.
JULIA: Shoot. That darn dog of yours has gotten into the trash again.
REX: My dog?
Julia just smiles back knowingly.
REX (CONT’D): Relax, honey. I’ll take care of it.
Rex leads his son to the couch, sits him down next to Darius, and heads back into the kitchen. The sleepy-eyed boy looks over at Darius, who curiously gazes back at the boy. Max smiles up at him.
MAX: Hello.
Darius is taken aback, and for just a moment, he is at a loss for words.
DARIUS: (as Robert DeNiro): You talkin’ to … me?
Max GIGGLES.
MAX: You’re funny, mister.
Max yawns and rubs his sleepy eyes.
MAX (CONT’D): Will you be my friend?
Darius beams back, so happy to see Max alive and well again. Suddenly, Rex returns and promptly picks up his son before Darius can respond.
REX: Hey, little buddy, who are you talking to?
As Rex carries Max down the hall, Darius watches them, still slightly overwhelmed.
MAX (whispering to Darius): Good night.
Max closes his eyes, just as Darius waves back.
DARIUS: Sweet dreams, Max.
Rex and Julia are having a quiet lunch as they watch young Max entertain himself by bouncing a tennis ball against a wall.
JULIA: Well, what do you know, Max is finally showing signs of those athletic skills you men find so endearing. You might just have that “big leaguer” in the family you’ve always dreamed of.
Max continues bouncing his tennis ball, which then ricochets erratically and gets stuck in the rolled up garden hose.
MAX: Hey, come on. You can do better than that. Throw it right, will ya'? I can’t always be chasing after it…
Rex and Julia continue watching Max.
MAX (CONT’D): Yes you can. Don’t argue with me. Just throw the ball right, OK?
REX: Look at him. What’s he doing now?
Max gets back to throwing the tennis ball.
MAX: See? I told you you could do it.
JULIA: I think he’s talking to his “imaginary playmate.”
REX: Oh, really. When did that start?
JULIA: I don’t know. Just now, I guess.
REX: Is that normal? I guess that’s normal, isn’t it? I mean, for some kids.
JULIA: Oh, of course. It’s perfectly normal for many children. They all outgrow it eventually.
REX: Right … sure.
JULIA: I tell you, though, with an imagination like his, he might just become a poet or an artist, maybe even an inventor.
REX: Yeah, well, I just want what most dads want for their boys; I want my son to be a smashing success at whatever he does.
JULIA: Yeah, yeah, I know you. You want a super achiever for a son … right? Admit it.
REX: OK, I admit it, sure … super athlete … super crime fighter … super genius, whatever.
JULIA: Superman, you mean. Poor kid will never be able to live up to that.
Max bounces the ball against the wall and catches it handily.
MAX: Now you’re getting the hang of it. I told you it was easy.
Then, we see what Max is “seeing.” Darius Middlefax is, in fact, the one who is “throwing” the tennis ball back to young Max.
DARIUS: It may be easy for you. You’re a very gifted little boy. Aren’t you, Max?
MAX: Yeah, I guess so. At least that’s what my teachers tell me.
DARIUS: In fact, you have quite a unique future ahead of you.
MAX: Future? What are you talking about?
DARIUS: Someday, Max, you will accomplish something very important.
MAX: Important? What do you mean important?
DARIUS: Something which will provide a great benefit to all mankind.
Max catches the ball and holds it tightly in his hands.
MAX: Tell me. What am I going to do?
DARIUS: You’re going to be fine, Max. You’re going to be just fine.
Young Max stares back at him, now more curious than ever.
NARRATOR: So ends … and begins … the odyssey of one, Doctor Darius Middlefax, Record Keeper … and Dream Giver extraordinaire, finally ready, willing, and able for the next phase of a very unique life, a life only to be found where our dreams reach to the farthest star, yet still perfectly within the realm of … A Strange World.