Adam Resurrected Page #3

we bring now to the stage my daughter,

the amazing, the brain-bending,

Miss Ruthie.

Yeah, yeah, yeah.

Isn't she so amazing?

You are my angel.

Do not be frightened.

You cannot see anything,

can you, Ruthie?

- No.

- No.

She says no.

She's looking askance at me,

my- my darling wife.

Oh, I love to get a smile

out of my wife.

Give her a big hand.

What's down there?

Ah, I love that.

Ow.

My wife, Gretchen.

I pick up the first blade,

so absolute silence.

Here we are.

Ruthie, don't.

She will do anything to avoid this part.

You don't like this part,

but no brain bending.

That is-

When you pulled up the thing

and you winked at the audience

and they went crazy,

you were killing me.

That stays in the show.

Papa.

You are a little genius, I think.

Papa, there's a man.

Was that spontaneous,

or did you work it out before?

Tell me.

- That's your bit.

- Adam, it's him.

Volk.

Well, Herr Stein.

All performers must be members

of the Reichstheaterkammer.

You do not qualify.

No sense of humor at all.

Tell me this.

Did your men like that bit with the bear?

Erschiessen.

You were warned, Adam.

I am not political.

Everyone loves the circus.

Well, I have to admit,

things have been less interesting around here.

It seems incredible.

A man who only yesterday spewed out

streams of blood from his toe.

Not to mention the pancreatic tumor

he sprouted in March.

And the heart attack last summer.

The man has actually spat out

part of a lung.

I mean, it's an amazing thing,

the self-destruction.

The amazing thing about Adam Stein

isn't his control over his body.

It's his power over you, Nathan.

What?

And a few other staff members

I could name.

Relax, Uri.

Eat your foie gras.

- Adam.

- Look who's here.

And, Wolfowitz, now look,

mein Gott im Himmel,

you look just awful.

It's just not- not good.

Ah, Rachel, oh, you pumpkin.

Gorgeous, absolutely gorgeous.

And Zelda, dear, yeah,

you keep the sky from falling,

but- but sit.

Adam, Schwester's been dreaming again

with her nonsense.

She says it's soon, very soon.

And she is right, Wolfowitz.

Yes, beautiful, what is it?

Tell me.

He came again last night.

- Shh.

- It's a secret?

The Archangel.

He lay beside me and said,

"This time Adam has returned

to lead the sufferers,

"the bearers of the blue numbers,

to the desert.

The gates of heaven will open and-"

No, of course- of course I will, Rachel.

That day is near, but not yet, dear.

Not- not before lunch.

I will usher and proclaim and rescue.

Me, the clown?

You see that?

You know he takes money from the patients?

Invests it in the stock market.

Gross.

You?

For the Institute, Slonim.

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