by Alan Filewod
Colby: Thank you, Your Honour.
The Crown: Dr C.G. Rand, please.
Clerk: Dr C.G. Rand.
(Underscoring as Doctor Rand takes the stand. We follow the proceedings as he is sworn in. But listen to Colby.)
Colby: Here we go again. This gentleman has a mind like a cookie cutter and the emotional maturity of a smiley-button. He’s got one answer for anything that has to do with the workings of the heart … look it up in the book. Pin that complex emotion down on the page like a butterfly … and then write something underneath it in Latin script.
The Crown: Dr Rand, are you able to tell the Court what, in your view, Mr Colby is suffering from?
Rand: Mr Colby suffers from a classic case of Erotic Paranoia.
(The Judge looks up. He’s been reading a report.)
The Judge: What? What was that?
The Crown: Erotic, that’s E-R-O-T-I-C. Paranoia, P-…
The Judge: You may proceed, Dr Rand.
Rand: It’s a textbook case, really. Here’s a description of the condition I’ve copied from Modern Clinical Psychiatry by Kolb …
The Judge: By who?
The Crown: Kolb. K-O- …
Rand: It’s a standard psychiatric text. (Reads) “The patient believes that some woman of wealth whom he may have casually seen or met is in love with him. He writes her affectionate letters and perhaps poems. Her failure to respond in kind is intended solely to test his love.”
(Colby moves away from the courtroom action.)
Colby: Did you see the way everybody perked up when he said the magic word? E-R-O-T-I-C. I looked it up in the dictionary – it’s from the Greek, eros, meaning: “the drive toward higher forms of being and relationship.”
But just listen to them … like a bunch of adolescent boys clamouring over a girlie book in the back corner of a schoolyard. They turn me into whatever it is they fear inside themselves.
The fact is, this whole business began in about as down to earth a way as you can imagine … it was my thirty-third birthday …
(Underscoring begins. Lights fade, Colby pulls a baseball hat from his briefcase and walks to the upstage platform. He sits on a stool in a tight spotlight.)
Colby: Eight a.m. and still next to pitch black, the way it is in the middle of February, in the middle of Alberta. It had snowed a lot during the night and I’m out plowing the road up to the house … it’s funny, I can still remember the smell of Aqua Velva, a little present I brought for myself in town … and with that aroma the exact thought I have as I reach up to turn on the radio … (Colby reaches up to turn on his radio. He snaps his fingers. We hear radio static.) I’m thinking about my place in the world. Thirty-three years old what am I? A single man … on an 8oo-acre family farm … alone … (The sound of a jet. Colby looks up.) A plane roars overhead. I look up into the darkness … and strangely … it’s as if I’m up there on that plane. I look out and see myself, a tiny detail in an aerial photograph, a little blob of light on a lonely road. A man in a glass box with waves of snow shooting up all around. (Colby tunes in a station.)
Announcer: And across Canada it looks like more snow.
Colby: This is how it’s going to be for me. Trapped in a pattern that’s entirely governed by the tilt of the earth on its axis. Six months of light and warmth where you struggle to bring in a decent crop … (Colby changes stations again.)
Announcer: Six killed in Cambodia …
Colby: Then she tilts back the other way … it gets darker and colder … until everything dies except for what’s inside the little circle you draw around yourself. And then you vanish … become part of a big silence. (Colby changes stations again. We hear the last chords of a song.)
Disc Jockey: And that was Miss Tammy Wynette singing “He’s Gone.” Now here’s a new release from a little lady from P.E.I. who is rising fast on the country charts in the U.S. of A no less. Here’s Linda Barrie with a Canadian classic.
(Soft lights up on the lower playing area. Linda Barrie is standing in front of a mike, playing guitar and singing “Snowbird.” She’s dressed simply. This is the very beginning of her career.
The lyric of “Snowbird” deals with images of winter and spring. A tiny bird struggles against the wind as the singer dreams of a peaceful country setting.
Colby listens to the song intently. When it ends he looks down at Linda and speaks to her, although she can’t hear him.)
Colby: See … sitting there, listening to you, it was like I was stepping away from myself. I wasn’t much different from a lot of guys I knew. My Dad had passed on. Mom was in a nursing home in Red Deer, and my brother, well he never much cared for farming. So there I was; “stuck with the farm.” But I never saw it that way. No, I wanted that farm. I plunged right into it, tried to create my own little 8oo-acre universe.
What I couldn’t afford to buy, I’d build. What I couldn’t find, I’d invent. I put up a new barn, and a windmill. I ran a model operation … but … it didn’t matter. I still felt like nothing. Jacob Colby, going through the motions of working a deserted family farm.
Then that dawn, listening to you … it was like something opened in my heart and let in a burst of pure colour. Suddenly that old song I’d heard a million times seemed to make sense out of life, and the feelings I was trying to control. Both of us were caught in the same cycle of death and rebirth … in a world where love had been lost. But … a little bird was struggling against the winter wind, flying away to … the land of gentle breezes where the peaceful waters flow. A land of love.
But … what did I know about love? A dozen dates with women who didn’t understand half of the things I said to them. But there you were. The radio. A voice … the simple, clear voice of a country girl who took my feelings and turned them into poetry. I think I fell for you that very moment and I didn’t want to be alone any more.
(Underscoring out. Colby walks downstage. Jet roar. Lights shift back into court.)
The Crown: So, in summing up you would say that Mr Colby’s condition must inevitably deteriorate?
Rand: Without treatment, yes. I have no idea what he may do next.
The Crown: No further questions, Your Honour.
The Judge: Mr Colby, you may cross-examine Dr Rand.
Colby: Thank you, Your Honour. Dr Rand it would seem that crucial to your whole argument is the delusional aspect of my mental state. Is that right?
Rand: That is the primary symptom, yes.
Colby: What am I deluded about?
Rand: That this relationship between you and Linda Barrie exists.
Colby: I see. And what constitutes a relationship between two people, Dr Rand?
Rand: Well, I would guess a mutual acceptance of the fact that a relationship exists.
Colby: You mean, I would have to be asked if I believe there is a relationship between Linda Barrie and myself, and then she would have to be asked.
Rand: That’s the problem, Jacob. There has been no mutual response on her part.
Colby: You know that isn’t true, Clarence. You know from previous appearances that I have produced proof of her response … for instance, this letter and picture sent to me by Linda Barrie. (Colby takes the picture and gives it to Rand.) Could you please read the inscription on the photo for the Court.
Rand: But, a person in her position probably gets letters from a large number of …
The Judge: The inscription please, Dr Rand.
Rand: “Keep in touch, Linda.” But this is the kind of picture Ms Barrie would send out to all her fans. Does that mean she has a “close” relationship with each and every person she responds to?
Colby: Dr Rand, I would suggest that she does indeed have a relationship with those people. However, I would note that you have added the word “close” to our discussion.
Rand: Those are your words, not mine.
Colby: I would point out to the Court that Dr Rand has been the only one to use the word “close” during this cross-examination.
&nb
sp; Rand: You have always insisted that the relationship is intimate.
Colby: Oh, so now your are adding “intimacy” to our relationship.
Rand: All I’m trying to say is …
Colby: You don’t suggest my delusional system was based on intimacy when I asked you to define your terms, Dr Rand. Why are you trying to confuse the issue now?
Rand: I am not trying to confuse the issue. All I am saying is that your relationship with Ms Barrie is the same kind of relationship she has with thousands of other fans who correspond with her …
Colby: Your Honour, a moment ago Dr Rand claimed I should be committed to a hospital for the criminally insane because I am deluded in my belief that I have a relationship with Linda Barrie. He now admits that, in fact, I have had a relationship – perhaps casual, perhaps not – but nevertheless, a relationship. Having lost that point he then falls back on innuendo, suggesting I believe I have an “intimate” relationship with Linda, when in fact I have suggested no such thing in Court today. Clearly, Dr Rand is contradicting himself and, in view of the decision by the Review Board that I’m as safe to walk the streets as the next fellow, I ask the Court to find that I am fit to stand trial.
The Judge: Well, Mr Colby, you may or may not be deluded, but it clearly doesn’t affect your ability to defend yourself. No more questions, Dr Rand.
The Crown: But Your Honour … Mr Colby has in the past freely admitted that he believes Linda Barrie is madly in love with him!
Colby: Your Honour, I’m on trial for breaking probation. My dramatically publicized “love” for Linda Barrie is not the real issue here.
The Judge: Quite so, Mr Colby. Dr Rand may step down, but at any time during this trial if I decide that the issue of your mental health is substantive I may recall the doctor.
Colby: Yes. Thank you, Your Honour.
The Judge: Let us proceed.
The Crown: Miss Edna Little, please.
Clerk: Miss Edna Little.
(Little comes on and is sworn in. She then takes her seat.)
Colby: Edna Little has been with Linda almost since the beginning. For years I thought she was one of the nicest people I’d ever talked to. I remember the first time I phoned Linda’s office. “Call Me” had just been released. It was on the radio all the time and I just couldn’t get Linda out of my mind … and here was her framed picture hung up there over the fridge saying “Keep in touch.” Well, one day I just picked up the phone and called.
(Colby pulls out a telephone and dials. Lights down on court, and up on the band platform where a party is in progress. Lots of riotous singing. A phone rings. Edna leaves the party and comes downstage to answer it.)
Little: Fellas! Can you keep it down a bit! Wylde Rose Limited. Edna Little speaking. Can I help you?
Colby: Ah … yes … This is Jacob Colby from Red Deer, Alberta, well from just outside Red Deer actually … ah … I wrote Linda a little while ago and she wrote me back and so I thought … that, you know, maybe I should phone and see how she’s doing.
(The dynamic of the noise goes up. Edwards enters. He’s a bit drunk)
Edwards: Hey Edna, where’s the ice?
Little: She’s doing just fine, Mr Colby. Thanks for the call.
Colby: Is she … is she there?
Little: No, I’m sorry she’s gone … to rehearsal. But she’ll be sorry she missed you.
Edwards: Business, Edna old girl?
Little: Just a fan.
Edwards: Well Lord-liftin’-Jesus let’s see this fan club you’re always talking about in action – where’s the file card? (Edna points to a file box. Edwards looks through it.) What’s the name?
Colby: Hello?
Little: Yes, she’ll be very sorry she missed you, Mr Colby.
(Edwards flips through the rollodex and pulls out a card.)
Colby: She sent me a couple of lovely notes in response to my letters.
Little: Yes, I think I remember. You’re the …
Edwards: The wheat farmer.
Little: Wheat farmer.
Colby: Why, yes I am.
Edwards: Let’s see that sales pitch in action, girl.
Little: Yes. Linda just loves wheat.
Colby: Well, gosh, I’ll send her some.
(Edwards laughs and heads back to the party. The band is playing “‘Ts the B’y.”)
Little: Oh, I wouldn’t go to any trouble, you know, (to Edwards) He wants to send Linda some wheat!
(Edwards laughs, joins the singing of “I’s the B’y,” making up the lyric below.)
Edwards: Colby’s the b’y that sells the wheat to buy the records that Linda sings!
Colby: Gee, sounds like you’re having a party over there.
Little: Yes, well, it’s just a little bon voyage party. Linda is going out on tour next week.
Colby: Really? Well, my call is opportune!
Edwards: Is he coming to the show? Maybe we could get some publicity stills. Linda standing on this pile of wheat with an adoring farmer in the background.
Little: Maybe you can make one of the shows. She’d love to see you.
Edwards: That’s what we need for the cover of her next album! Linda with a farmer and … and a cow! Does he have a cow?
Little: Do you have a cow?
Colby: I beg your pardon?
Little: You know, a cow. All farmers have cows, right?
Colby: I’m a wheat farmer.
Little: No cow.
Colby: So … ah … I guess Linda won’t be coming to Red Deer.
Little: No, but she’s playing Vancouver next week.
Colby: Vancouver. Well, that’s a ways from here. I’d have to fly to get there.
Little: You sure as heck couldn’t walk. This is getting boring, Chuck. (Edwards listens in.)
Colby: I guess some people would think nothing of flying to Vancouver to see Linda …
Little: Oh yes, some of Linda’s fans love her so much that they’d probably …
Edwards: Wax feathers to their arms and fly over the Rockies solo …
Colby: I beg your pardon?
Little: Chuck.
Edwards: You’re right, this is boring! Let’s boogie!
(Edwards tickles Little. She fights him off, laughing.)
Little: I’m sorry, Mr Colby. The office help is getting out of hand. Look, I’ve got to go. I’ve … I’ve got a call on the other line. Remember … keep in touch.
Colby: Oh I will … in fact, I might even make that concert …
(The line goes dead.)
Colby: … in Vancouver.
Edwards: Hey Jack! Know anybody with a cow?
(Edwards runs back up to the party. The band reprises “I’s the B’y.” Colby hangs up the phone. Little takes the stand. The lights shift back to court as the music ends.)
Little: Edna Little. Wylde Rose Limited.
The Judge: How is that spelled?
The Crown: I believe it’s W-I-L-D-E.
Little: No, it’s W-Y-L-D-E.
The Judge: Thank you.
The Crown: Now, Miss Little, you are employed by Wylde Rose Limited, Miss Barrie’s personal management company. You were on the Wylde Rose premises on October 19 1983, is that correct?
Little: Yes, I was walking through the reception area and looked up and saw Mr Colby standing by the office door.
The Crown: Yes. And how were you able to see him?
Little: The door is made out of smoked glass.
The Crown: All right. And what did you do after you saw him?
Little: Well, I was frightened at first, but finally I went to the door, opened it and Mr Colby … he spoke first, said: “I’d like to leave a personal message for Miss Barrie.” And I said: “Fine,” accepted the envelope from him, closed the door, and telephoned the police.
The Crown: Good. Now, Miss Little, can you identify this object for the Court?
Little: (Taking an envelope) Yes. That’s the letter Mr Colby gave me. See, it says right here: Linda Barrie,
Personal.
The Crown: I would like this to be made an exhibit, Your Honour.
The Judge: Very well. Exhibit One.
(They begin to go through the laborious business of making the letter an exhibit. Lights shift. A Muzak underscoring begins. Colby walks to the upstage stair unit, sits and pulls out a letter.)
Colby: Exhibit One. I wrote that letter on a concrete bench in the Toronto International Airport. Letters have played a special part in our relationship – Linda always used to answer them. I mean, what’s a phone call? Five minutes of embarrassed small talk that disappears as soon as you hang up. But a letter … a letter has substance. (A jet roars overhead. Colby reads what he’s been writing.) Dear Linda: I’ve made a reservation for you on flight #153, leaving Toronto at 7:10 p.m. for Calgary under the name of Miss A. Avena – Avena is Linda’s first name … she was named after her Grandmother – (romantic tone) I’ll meet you, wait for you, near the flight monitors in front of the Western Airlines Ticket counter.
Practicality is both my greatest virtue … and the curse of my existence.
I start out trying to sound like Errol Flynn … and end up sounding like a farmer. (He chuckles, then writes again. As he writes Ted enters, slightly rumpled, maybe a little drunk and eating a hot dog. He tries to read the letter over Colby’s shoulder.) I won’t buy your ticket until I meet you. I think I have enough money, but you might bring along the last money order I sent you if you’ve still got it.
Ted: It’s with a “Y”.
Colby: Pardon?
Ted: It’s B-A-R-R-Y. Not I-E.
Colby: Well, it’s “I-E” in this particular case.
Ted: You sure?
Colby: I’ve been corresponding with this lady for ten years now. I think I should know how her name’s spelled.
Ted: Ten years. Wow. I thought it was a love letter.
Colby: It really isn’t any of your business what it is.
Ted: Sure thing, but, you know, I just thought like you looked like you were writing a love letter, ya know? Had kind of a far away look in your eye. But it couldn’t be a love letter, right? I mean, you don’t write a chick you’ve known for 10 years a love letter, right?
Colby: Why not?
Ted: Well, you know … 10 years … the embers must be burning kind of low, eh?