Broken Glass Read Free Page A

I’ve worn black since high school.
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HYMAN: No particular reason.
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GELLBURG, shrugs: Always liked it, that’s all.
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HYMAN: Well it’s a similar thing with her; she doesn’t know why she’s doing this, but some very deep, hidden part of her mind is directing her to do it. You don’t agree.
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GELLBURG: I don’t know.
    HYMAN: You think she knows what she’s doing?
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GELLBURG: Well I always liked black for business reasons.
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HYMAN: It gives you authority?
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GELLBURG: Not exactly authority, but I wanted to look a little older. See, I graduated high school at fifteen and I was only twenty-two when I entered the firm. But I knew what I was doing.
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HYMAN: Then you think she’s doing this on purpose?
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GELLBURG:—Except she’s numb; nobody can purposely do that, can they?
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HYMAN: I don’t think so.—I tell you, Phillip, not really knowing your wife, if you have any idea why she could be doing this to herself ...
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GELLBURG: I told you, I don’t know.
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HYMAN: Nothing occurs to you.
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GELLBURG, an edge of irritation: I can’t think of anything.
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HYMAN: I tell you a funny thing, talking to her, she doesn’t seem all that unhappy.
    GELLBURG: Say!—yes, that’s what I mean. That’s exactly what I mean. It’s like she’s almost... I don’t know ... enjoying herself. I mean in a way.
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HYMAN : How could that be possible?
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GELLBURG: Of course she apologizes for it, and for making it hard for me—you know, like I have to do a lot of the cooking now, and tending to my laundry and so on ... I even shop for groceries and the butcher ... and change the sheets ...
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He breaks off with some realization. Hyman doesn’t speak. A long pause.
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You mean ... she’s doing it against me?
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HYMAN: I don’t know, what do you think?
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Stares for a long moment, then makes to rise, obviously deeply disturbed.
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GELLBURG: I’d better be getting home. Lost in his own thought. I don’t know whether to ask you this or not.
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HYMAN: What’s to lose, go ahead.
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GELLBURG: My parents were from the old country, you know,—I don’t know if it was in Poland someplace or Russia—but there was this woman who they say was ... you know ... gotten into by a ... like the ghost of a dead person...
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HYMAN: A dybbuk.
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GELLBURG: That’s it. And it made her lose her mind and so forth. -You believe in that? They had to get a rabbi to pray it out of her body. But you think that’s possible?
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HYMAN: Do I think so? No. Do you?
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GELLBURG: Oh no. It just crossed my mind.
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HYMAN: Well I wouldn’t know how to pray it out of her, so ...
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GELLBURG: Be straight with me—is she going to come out of this?
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HYMAN: Well, let’s talk again after I see her tomorrow. Maybe I should tell you ... I have this unconventional approach to illness, Phillip. Especially where the mental element is involved. I believe we get sick in twos and threes and fours, not alone as individuals. You follow me? I want you to do me a favor, will you?
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GELLBURG: What’s that.
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HYMAN: You won’t be offended, okay?
    GELLBURG, tensely: Why should I be offended?
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HYMAN: I’d like you to give her a lot of loving. Fixing Gellburg in his gaze. Can you? It’s important now.
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GELLBURG: Say, you’re not blaming this on me, are you?
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HYMAN: What’s the good of blame?—from here on out, tuchas offen tisch, okay? And Phillip?
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GELLBURG: Yes?
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HYMAN, a light chuckle: Try not to let yourself get mad.
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Gellburg turns and goes out. Hyman returns to his desk, makes some notes. Margaret enters.
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MARGARET: That’s one miserable little pisser.
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He writes, doesn’t look up.
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He’s a dictator, you know. I was just remembering when I went to the