Episode Eight « All Cleared Up

Act 3 – CALISTA and THE PROF. are sitting down at the table in the kitchen, trying to make sense of what is going on. 
  
THE PROF.: So what is it that’s caused Jamie to lock herself and my maid in her bedroom? 
CALISTA: That’s what we’re trying to find out. But she won’t open the door and all Paolo said was “she cut”. 
THE PROF.: Cut what? 
CALISTA: We don’t know. She didn’t exactly stop to chat when she rushed in wearing her jacket… her head bowed down… underneath her hood. 
THE PROF.: Lightbulb moment? 
CALISTA: Jamie’s cut, it could be her hair. What if she has a major embarrassing haircut? And that explains why Paolo’s in there with her. 
THE PROF.: It does? 
CALISTA: He’s gay! He’ll be up there right now fixing her hair into a chic, fabulous-looking style that I’ll be so totally jealous of. 
THE PROF.: If you weren’t so anorexic I’d punch you in the ribs, you foolish whore. Paolo, as it just so happens, is the worst person you could ever trust with a pair of scissors. 
CALISTA: Oh? 
THE PROF.: I don’t know the full story, but it involves a baby, Paolo, and a group of very angry Jewish people. 
CALISTA: Oh. 
  
There is a deathly silence as MOM-BOT stands in the kitchen preparing a tray of tea and scones. 
  
CALISTA: You hate me now, don’t you? 
THE PROF.: After turning my laboratory into a crime-scene, no. 
CALISTA: Oh? 
THE PROF.: To be honest, I’ve pretty much always hated you. 
CALISTA: Oh. 
MOM-BOT: What is this I hear about hating Calista, can I join in? 
CALISTA: No! You had your turn already; I did not come here to be verbally abused by you two. 
THE PROF.: I fail to see why you’re here at all. Don’t all your visits usually end up with you being locked in the basement? 
CALISTA: Oh we’ve passed that now, right Mom? 
MOM-BOT: Oh… we have, haven’t we. I keep forgetting. 
  
MOM-BOT heads out with the tray. 
  
CALISTA: What about the tea? 
MOM-BOT: You would not want it. I just remembered I mixed in sleeping pills instead of sugar, force of habit. 
THE PROF.: Ouch! Seems someone was overly confident in their assumptions. 
CALISTA: It’s a work in progress. Trust has to be built over time, just like you and me. 
THE PROF.: Oh, I have no problems trusting you. I just think you’re a complete twat. 
CALISTA: You know all these jibes and insults aren’t fooling me. I know exactly what you’re doing, and quite frankly I’m flattered that you feel so threatened by me that you need to reassert your masculinity every few minutes. 
THE PROF.: Good God, do you ever shut up? (Shouting) Mom-Bot, bring the tea back, I’d rather be drugged than continue to listen to anymore of this nonsense. 
  
Suddenly, JAMES bursts into the house. 
  
JAMES: Oh-Em-Gee! You will never believe what I found out. 
THE PROF.: Forget the tea, just bring me the pills. 
CALISTA: What? Is Jamie hurt. 
JAMES: Well, before that, guess who I found out stays back after school for a little one-on-one tuition with Mr. Olivier? And when I say one-on-one, I don’t mean he’s teaching him English! 
THE PROF.: Jamie, just get on with it. Whilst we’re still young… ooh, I spoke too soon. 
  
THE PROF. gives a disapproving look to CALISTA with his eyes as JAMES laughs and high-fives him. 
  
CALISTA: Hey, I’m nineteen. 
  
This only causes the two boys to laugh even harder. 
  
CALISTA: Oh keep laughing; just know that Clarissa is watching the both of you very closely. 
JAMES: I’m sorry, Clarissa. Now, where was I? 
THE PROF.: It appears you were about to give a valid explanation as to why Jamie’s locked Paolo and herself in her bedroom. 
CALISTA: What did you find out? Is she okay? 
JAMES: I’m afraid not, Calista. This is more serious than we thought, I have every reason to believe that Jamie… do you suppose they make a Tarzan action figure? 
CALISTA: Jamie! 
JAMES: Sorry. I think Jamie cut…

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