The actors, including Tanya and Lizzy, had invited Johanna and Tom to a performance of Queen Lear. After the performance Johanna asked Joe to meet them in her study. It was a bare, wood-paneled room with an unused feel, semi-detached from the house and furnished with a computer desk and several handsome office chairs. One door opened from the house and another to the garden. A dark window faced the garden. Joe came in through the door from the house. His natural gate made his fools costume look shabby. Tom was already sitting in one of the office chairs, smiling, his back straight, as if he were a guest on a TV talk show waiting for the host to tire of another guest. As he had at the performance, Tom was wearing a dark blue silk tailored suit that emphasized his shoulders and the straightness of his back. His smile too was straight, his white hair perfectly combed, his black eyebrows glossy. The two men nodded without speaking. Johanna entered walking in a sort of slow, shaky imitation of her normal athletic briskness because of the chemotherapy. As she had during the performance, she was wearing a red velour robe and a yellow turban. She looked to Joe like a hunted, dangerous animal.
"What do you think you are doing!" Johanna said.
"Transformation," he said.
"You said you wanted to cut to the gut."
"I'm telling you, I'm going to get things under control here."
"You wanted theater—if you want theater, you also get revolution."
"I'm tired of your fucking one-line answers. You can't deal with me with one-liners."
"I'm trying to awaken the dormant heart of the hero in your family."
"I'll tell you what the fuck you are doing: you are trying to turn our children against us."
"I think that would be cutting to the quick."
"Are you out of your mind? I want to tell you what. Are you out of your fucking mind?"
He turned to Tom and asked, "Do you think we are out of our minds?"
Tom, sitting to the right of Johanna, who was now standing, made an opening, lifting gesture to her with his well-manicured right hand that testified complete support.
"Speak for yourself, John?" Joe continued, addressing Tom. "Are you here? Who are you?"
Tom shrugged his elegantly suited shoulders.
"Do you have any defense to offer," Johanna continued. "Remember, my daughters are the most important thing I have in the world."
"I am trying to figure out what we are and how we could be other than what breeds our own cascading sorrow."
"I want you out of here. Take your book of answers with you. I want you out of here in the morning, before breakfast. I don't want you to speak to the children ever again. They are not to ever hear your voice again. Do you understand?"
"I understand better than you could ever hope," Joe said. Johanna thought he was like a lone soldier on a smoking battle field, out of touch with which side he was on, but still carrying his weapon.
