The Man From Earth

ACT II

Fade in, Will is warming himself in front of the fire, it is darker.

WILL: From the Buddha to the cross, I have always imagined both as entirely mythic. Ye— but I would like to hear more. May I lie on the couch for a moment? I’m not as young as I used to be. (plonks himself on the couch) Ohh! Hah, so! You were Jesus. Well, perhaps somebody had to be, for better or for worse. The jury is still out.

When did you begin to believe you were Jesus?

JOHN: When did you begin to believe you were a psychiatrist?

WILL: Since I graduated Harvard medical school and finished my residency, I’ve had that feeling. Oh, I sometimes dream about it.

JOHN: Have you acted upon this belief?

WILL: I had a private practice for a while, and then I taught. Nothing unusual— Oh, until one day, I met a caveman who thought he was Jesus.

JOHN: Do you find that unusual?

WILL: Very. I would stake my reputation he is as sane as I am, so why does he persist in such a story?

JOHN: There must be a reason, though.

WILL: Unless I imagined it all? Is that possible?

JOHN: I think you’re as sane as he is.

WILL: Oh, god, I— (laughs) No.

Did you ever find it prudent to worship yourself rather than be thought a heretic? That would be something!

JOHN: At the time Christianity was considered heresy, I had to pretend other faiths.

WILL: And what does Jesus have to say to those present who find it difficult to believe in Him?

JOHN: Believe in what he tried to teach, without rigmarole. Piety is not what the lessons bring to people. It’s the mistake they bring to the lessons.

(slowly getting up and putting on his jacket)

Well, it’s getting to be night. I still have stuff to carry and a long drive.

SANDY: I’ll help.

DAN: John, do you have a destination in mind? Never mind. I won’t ask.

JOHN: Thank you.

(exits with Sandy, carrying boxes)

WILL: Anyone mentally ill can imagine a fantastic background— Even an entire life— and sincerely believe it. The man who thinks he is Napoleon does believe it. His true identity has taken a backseat to his delusion and the need for it. If that’s the case with John, there is a grave disorder.

ART: Organized brilliantly. He’s got an answer for everything.

WILL: It might involve rejection of his father, of his entire early past, replaced by this fantasy.

HARRY: He says he can’t remember his father.

WILL: Precisely. Why?

LINDA: You said he was sane.

WILL: Did I?

DAN: Do you think that perhaps our caveman has a monkey on his back?

EDITH: Drugs?

HARRY: No, no, no, no. I’ve done a lot of consulting work with the narcotics division. I’ve seen people…tripping, strung out— Whatever’s up with John, it isn’t that. I’ve looked for signs— None.

LINDA: Could cavemen really talk?

DAN: We think that language came into existence sixty thousand years ago. The structure of Stone Age culture is evidence of the ability to communicate… verbally.

Harry wolf whistles, clicks his tongue.

HARRY: Oh, shut up.

John is looking at the stars.

JOHN: Maybe it’d be easier if I were.

SANDY: Crazy? No.

Coyote howls. John then looks at Sandy.

DAN: That is fascinating, though, isn’t it, a brave attempt to teach Buddhism in the West. It’s no wonder he failed. We’re not ready for it.

EDITH: You’re talking as if you believed him.

DAN: Well, it is possible, isn’t it? I mean, anything is possible.

Look, we have two simple choices. We can get all bent out of shape intellectualizing or bench— pressing logic, or we can simply relax and enjoy it. I can listen critically, but I don’t have to make up my mind about anything. But you think you do?

ART: Well, unfortunately, there’s no authorities on prehistory, so we couldn’t stop him there.

EDITH: There are experts on the bible.

HARRY: Chheh, dream on.

DAN: Yeah, thus the lost years of Jesus. He didn’t exist until John put on a hat.

EDITH: I don’t believe in angels and the nativity and the star in the East, but there are stories about the childhood of Jesus.

WILL: History hates a vacuum. Improvisation, some of it very sincere, fills the gaps. It would have been easy to falsify a past back then— A few words, credulity— Time would do the rest.

EDITH: Now you’re talking as if you believed him.

ART: Well, look at the popular myths surrounding the Kennedy assassination in a few short years— You had, uh, conspiracy, mafia, CIA— That’s a mystique that’ll never go away.

DAN: It’s always been a small step from a fallen leader to a god.

EDITH: I don’t think anybody will deify Kennedy. We’re more sophisticated than that.

DAN: We are? We are.

John and Sandy enter.

HARRY: Well, you’re finally fulfilling one prophecy about the millennium, John.

JOHN: What’s that?

HARRY: Here you are again.

John makes himself comfortable between Sandy and the fireplace.

WILL: You like the fire, John.

JOHN: Everywhere I’ve lived, I’ve had a fireplace. Childhood fixation, I guess. Helps me to feel secure.

SANDY: (smiling) There are predators out there.

JOHN: One thing I didn’t pack… I thought I might need it.

John puts on a tape/record of Beethoven’s 7th Symphony.

ART: Wouldn’t Sacre du Printemps be more appropriate?

HARRY What?

DAN: You’ve got…four men of science completely baffled, my friend. We— We don’t know what to make of you.

JOHN: Did you know Voltaire was the first to suggest that the universe was created by a gigantic explosion? I think Paul would agree. And then Goethe was the first to suggest that spiral nebulae were swirling masses of stars. We now call them galaxies. It’s kind of funny how often new concepts of science find their first tentative forms of expression in the arts.

HARRY: So did Beethoven do physics on the side?

SANDY: He spent most of his time lying on the floor in front of his legless piano surrounded by orange peels and apple cores.

HARRY: Now we’re on the floor listening to Beethoven. Full circle.

DAN: Did you have, um… any religious beliefs? Or didn’t you give it much thought?

JOHN: You can’t get there with thought.

DAN: You have faith?

JOHN: In a lot of things.

SANDY: Do you have faith in the future of the race?

JOHN: I’ve seen species come and go. Depends on their balance with the environment.

DAN: We’ve made a mess of it.

JOHN: There’s still time, if we use it well.

EDITH: Christianity has been a worldwide belief for 2,000 years.

JOHN: How long did the Egyptians worship Isis? Or the Sumerians Ishtar? In India, sacred cows wandered freely as reincarnated souls. In a thousand years, they’ll be barbecued and their souls will be in squirrels.

EDITH: (firmly) You weren’t Jesus!

John smiles.

WILL: Oh, Edith.

(rises to his feet)

SANDY: (clearing her throat) If it rains, y—…

JOHN: (interrupting) — It won’t.

ART: How do you know that?

JOHN: I don’t smell it.

LINDA: Were you… I guess a… medicine man?

JOHN: I was a shaman a few times. I… revealed some truths to eat a little better.

EDITH: You think that’s all religion is about… selling hope and survival?

JOHN: The Old Testament sells fear and guilt. The New Testament is a good code of ethics, put into my mouth by poets and philosophers that are much smarter than I am. The message is never practiced. Fairy tales build churches.

ART: What about the name "Jesus"? Did you pull that out of a hat?

JOHN: I called myself John. I almost always do. As tales of the resurrection spread, the name was confused with the Hebrew "Yochanan", meaning "God is gracious". My stay on earth was seen as divine proof of immortality. That led to "God is salvation", or Hebrew "Yahshua", which in translation became my proper name, changing to late Greek, "Iesous", Then to late Latin, "Iesus", and finally medieval Latin, "Jesus". And it was a wonder to watch it all happen.

DAN: Then you didn’t claim to be the Son of God?

JOHN: Began as a schoolhouse and ended as a temple. I said I had a master that was greater than myself. I never said he was my father. I wanted to teach what I learned. I never claimed to be king of the Jews, I never walked on water, I never raised the dead. I never spoke of divine except in the sense of human goodness on earth. (pause)

No wise men came from the East to worship at a manger… I did do a little healing with some eastern medicine I’d learned… That’s it.

DAN: The three wise men began as a myth about the birth of the Buddha.

HARRY: John, I should be home, uh, kissing my wife. We’re all here, trapped by your story…hoping for a…revolution? I don’t know. Are there any, uh…more revelations for us?

John shakes his head, smiling.

DAN: It’s just like old times.

EDITH: (after a pause, glaring at John, and then firmly, again) You. Weren’t. Jesus.

HARRY: Quote the Sermon on the Mount.

JOHN: Which one? Darby? King James? New American Standard?

EDITH: Do you know them all?

JOHN: No one knows the one, not even me. I… I did some teaching on a hill one day. Not that many people stayed.

DAN: But you…

JOHN: Biblical Jesus said, "Who do you think I am?" He gave them a choice. I’m giving you one.

EDITH: (timidly, her voice quivering, eyes tearing up) W-were you?

JOHN: If I said no, could you ever be sure?

Edith’s lips quiver, and she suddenly lets out a sob. Art switches the light on to break the spell.

WILL: (stepping forward) Turn that off. Please.

John turns off the music.

WILL: This has gone far enough.

Edith sobs again.

WILL: It’s gone much too far. These people are very upset. I don’t believe you’re mad, but what you’re saying is not true. That leaves only one explanation. The time has come when you must admit this is a hoax… a lie. Isn’t that true, John?

If you don’t drop this now— If you can— I’ll be convinced that you need a great deal of attention. I can have you committed for observation. You know that. I ask you now— I demand it— That you tell these people the truth. Give them closure. It’s time, John. Please.

Long, tense pause…

JOHN: End of the line. Everybody off.

DAN: Whaaat?!

JOHN: It was a story. (hands raised, rising to his feet and pacing) It was all a story.

Edith sobs in relief.

ART: Good god!

DAN: Another fairy tale?

EDITH: (sobbing) All of it? But what— What in the name of heaven…

ART: (angrily) John, you had us wondering whether you were sane or not, and it’s just a story! Where’d you come off with such a half-baked, asinine idea?

JOHN: At least you’re relieved I’m not a nut.

ART: I’d prefer you were!

JOHN: You gave me the idea. All of you.

DAN: Come again?

JOHN: Edith saw my fake Van Gogh.

EDITH: You could have just told me.

JOHN: You commented that I never age. You gave me the book on early man. Dan, you spotted the burin and you said, "If stones could speak."

DAN: I knew it.

JOHN: I got the notion, I ran it past you to check your reactions, and I took it too far.

DAN: Too far? Check my reaction?

JOHN: You asked if I was a figure from religious history, if there were others like me, if I’d created future identities. We were chasing our tails around the maypole, enjoying the mystery, the analytical stretch. You were playing my game! I was playing yours.

DAN: Oh, man, you know, you had us going, right? You were good, man. You know those Chinese boxes, one, inside the other, inside the other, inside the other— I feel like I’m in the— I’m in the— I’m in the last box. You son of a… (pause) BITCH! How could you do this to us?

EDITH: (angrily) I was worried about you.

JOHN: I know, I was tempted to cop out many times, but I couldn’t resist seeing whether or not you could refute what I was saying. I had the perfect audience— anthropologist, archaeologist, Christian literalist… A psychologist.

ART: Okay, I’ve had enough of this. I’m outta here. You wanna come? Let’s go.

HARRY: So, John. Are you gonna write the story?

JOHN: If I do, I’ll send you copies.

ART: Don’t bother with mine, okay? You are absolutely certifiable. I don’t know you! (storms out)

LINDA: It was nice seeing you again, Dr. Oldman. …Your name’s a pun, isn’t it? Old man? Did that help you with your story?

ART: (calling out) Linda!

LINDA: (waves nervously, smiling) Bye.

JOHN: Well, Art was half right.

HARRY: (sniggers) Which half?

…Well, at least I don’t have to throw away half of what I know about biology.

DAN: Which half? It’s a beautiful idea, so rich, so full of possibilities.

JOHN: (to Will) Perhaps you should write a paper on it, Doctor.

WILL: Maybe I will. I’ll interview you in the rubber room for further details. You may still need help, my friend.

John grabs a bag and heads out. Sandy scrambles to her feet and rushes after him.

SANDY: My ass.

JOHN: I thought it sounded pretty good.

SANDY: They believe you because they have to. But the one thing that I know about you is that you would never use people or abuse their goodwill and intelligence like they think you’ve just done to them.

JOHN: Psych 101?

SANDY: No, it’s Woman, one-on-one. So you’re a pretty fast liar, Mr. Ugg, but I wanna know— What’s your real name?

JOHN: Believe it or not, the sound was always John.

SANDY: Why’d you cave to Gruber?

JOHN: What happened was enough. Just— Just needed to stop. I—I shouldn’t have expected it to work.

SANDY: Fourteen thousand years old. I bet that’s a lot of women.

JOHN: Oh, are we counting?

SANDY: Maybe.

HARRY: (coming out, Edith following) Well, I’m taking Edith home. Sandy?

SANDY: I’m gonna stay.

EDITH: (surveying John)…Are you sorry for some of those things you said?

JOHN: I’m sorry I said them.

EDITH: Well. Like a good Christian, I….. Oh, John. (hugs John, he lifts her up giving her a tight hug) Oh! Well, you did a terrible thing, but we’re all so thankful you’re all right. Even Art— He just hates things he can’t understand.

HARRY: You’re a sadist, John, but I admit I got a kick out of chasing my tail around your maypole… even if that is all I caught. Good luck to you. (shakes John’s hand) Wish you the best.

JOHN: Thank you.

HARRY: Ready?

Edith puts her hand on John’s face, and gives him a kiss on the cheek. They depart

HARRY: — Later!

SANDY: — Okay, good night.

Dan comes out, hugs Sandy from the side.

SANDY: Mmm. (to John) I don’t know, man. Something about this… Something about you, John. The more I think about it, the more I’m no longer in that Chinese box. (Inhaling deeply) I sense…space. A kinda latitude of what we happily call reality, in which, as everybody keeps saying… anything’s possible.

JOHN: Yes.

DAN: No. N-no. N-no. No— No more words. I’m gonna go home, and I’m gonna watch Doctor Who for a dose of sanity. Good luck to you, man, wherever this may lead you…You drop me a line, sometime. Let me know how you’re making out.

JOHN: …I will.

Dan gives Sandy a friendly kiss and walks off.

SANDY: So, John Oldman. What other pun names have you used?

Will is slowly exiting, inadvertently sneaking up on them.

JOHN: Lots. John Paley for John Paleolithic. John Savage— Got really crazy about 60 years ago, when I was teaching at Harvard, I was John Thomas Partee. John T. Partee— Boston tea party—

Will who is right behind them now takes a step back with a look of shock on his face.

SANDY: I get it.

JOHN: Yeah, I know.

WILL: Wait, wait, wait. B-Boston? 60 years ago? J-John Partee?

John puts a hand on his mouth.

WILL: (angrily) You did not teach chemistry! I do not believe you!

JOHN: (putting his arm on Will’s shoulder) Your mother’s name was Nola.

WILL: No. No! Yea— Yes, Nola. (crying) My mother! (angrily) I reject this! My— My— My dog’s name. We had him before I was born.

JOHN: (smiling and nodding) Woofie.

WILL: Woof— Woof— Woofie… (sobbing)

JOHN: Gruber. She remarried?

WILL: (sobbing angrily) She said you abandoned us.

JOHN: Sorry, I had to move on. You know that. I left enough. I left enough.

WILL: I–I’m cooold!

JOHN: (putting his arm around him and escorting him inside) Chilly Willy, always cold. Never could stand the cold.

WILL: (Sobs) Wait, you— you had a beard! (stroking his face)

JOHN: Yeah, you used to tug on it to see if it was real.

WILL: (sobbing) Agh! (clutching his chest in pain)

JOHN: Will! God. Call an ambulance, now!

(Will gasps, collapses with John holding him)

JOHN: Come on, Willy. Will. Come on, buddy.

(Siren blaring, fade out)

fin