Man Facing Southeast Page #4

I didn't ask.

He said he'd been an alcoholic.

He sought help to avoid

harming anybody.

He said he was improving.

He spoke highly of you.

- He never mentioned coming from

another planet? - No.

Ranted may have problems, but

he doesn't seem crazy to me.

Excuse me.

Excuse me, Doctor,

but it is late.

Yes, of course.

Will you be visiting again?

I'd like to talk more.

Anything he said may help me.

- And him.

- Yes, of course.

Can I have your phone number?

I don't have a phone.

I'll give you my numbers.

You can call me here

or at home.

Rantes deserves our help.

He's a valuable man.

You told me everything, eh?

The Saint?

She's a very interesting woman.

Why do you call her the ''Saint''?

Because she's a very special woman.

Her mechanisms are unlike other humans.

- What mechanisms?

- This is confidential...

but I can trust you.

Uncommon connections between

the emotional and the physical.

When a human being feels something

what are the external

physical reactions?

You can cry, or tremble,

or pretend you don't feel a thing.

The Saint could never hide anything.

When she feels, when...

she becomes deeply moved

or feels love, I suppose,

she regurgitates a blue liquid.

A blue liquid?

Yes. It's a very interesting case.

Searching for ways of decoding feelings

and transforming them into information,

it's truly an exceptional case.

Why the need to expel the liquid?

Why blue?

What produces it?

Perhaps she's epileptic and

you imagined the liquid was blue.

What's wrong, Doctor?

Have you found yourself at the limits?

Crazy trees grow in nuthouses.

Why did you tell her

you were an alcoholic?

An alcoholic?

I didn't want to frighten her.

I am interested in working

with those people.

Telling the truth would ruin everything.

Horrible machine, tell Dad

I would like to go to fishing.

I deserve it since I got an A

in school.

Bye, machine. I don't like

to talking to you.

Have Daddy call me.

Dr. Denis, this is Beatriz Dick,

Rantes' friend.

Please tell him that

I haven't abandoned him.

I had important reasons

for not visiting him.

I'll visit him again

next Sunday at 5:00 p.m.

I called because I know

you care about him.

Thank you, Doctor.

Listen Doctor, I've been

cheating on you.

Hi, how are you?

I've finished seeing my patients.

Would you like some coffee?

I want to know how

Rantes seemed to you.

Excuse me for a minute.

I'll wait in the car. It's outside.

Beatriz, I don't want

to alarm you, but...

Rantes did not explain his case fully.

He hides things.

A man always hides something

in his soul

that's why he's not happy.

Of course, but these are

serious things.

Rantes is not an alcoholic.

He thinks he is from another planet.

- What's your opinion?

- About another planet?

No. Do you think it's serious?

Can he be cured?

The truth is, I don't know.

- I haven't made any progress.

- He seems well.

He feels well, but that place

is not exactly a summer camp.

I know it.

I though you would be able to help me.

I want to help you,

but I don't know how.

I'm searching for some human trace.

I can't find any trace of his past,

of his origins.

I can say he's sick, but I don't really

know what's wrong with him.

This happens often in psychiatry.

A man lives his life without

leaving some imprint.

I know the real story of Rantes

must exist somewhere.

I think you can help.

Why do you think I could help?

He lied to me, too.

You never heard him mention a place,

a town where he might have lived?

- He never mentioned Uruguay?

- No.

As far as I remember, no.

Once he mentioned a trip.

There is a boy Rantes teaches music.

He's very impressed with him.

Rantes thinks he's a genius.

He admires him.

It bothers him because he believes that

the boy's genius will be wasted.

Once, he mentioned taking the boy

on a trip.

I asked about the trip. He just said,

''That boy will travel.''

Rantes can go out.

He comes and goes when he pleases.

Why doesn't he go out with you

for a walk or a drink?

He doesn't want to.

He says he's too busy at the hospital.

- He's investigating something.

- Oh, yes...

Are you suggesting I don't do enough

with him?

No, no. You do plenty by visiting him.

I better go.

Need a ride?

No, thanks.

I'm not going far. I like to walk.

So long, Doctor.

Thank you for your concern.

Next week I'll take him to a concert.

Would you like to come with us?

A REAL LOONEY CONCER MADMAN CONDUCTS I

It would've been fine in

the entertainment section, but...

it made the Crime section, and

I look like a fool.

''How did the patient escape?''

He didn't escape.

He was out with one of our doctors.

You're right, I'm sorry.

I made a mistake.

I thought it would be good for him

to get out.

He loves music. Besides, he's harmless.

So I see.

It's lucky you didn't take him

to a military parade.

Instead of the Crime section

we'd be front page news.

''Nut Orders Military Attack''

That's already happened,

and Rantes wasn't involved.

Dr. Denis, this man is a delirious

paranoid

and you're treating him

as a mere neurotic.

I don't have to remind you

that a man who persists in such delirium

is potentially dangerous.

Today he's a Martian, tomorrow

he hears voices and kills someone.

You put him to work in Pathology,

take him to concerts.

Perhaps you're experimenting

with new healing technique.

We don't cure anybody.

If you've lost faith in your profession,

you know what to do.

I come here every day because I believe

that, despite the difficulties,

we do serve.

Curing even one patient

gives our work meaning.

One in 1500 patients.

That's a pretty low average.

Dr. Denis, regarding yourself,

the subject is not closed.

Regarding the patient,

I want no more confusion.

Alpidol injectable, and that's final.

He'll fall apart.

It's the only way to shake the delirium.

Yes, but the delirium is all that

keeps Rantes going.

He may become catatonic.

If he becomes catatonic,

give him electroshock.

You have 15 years' experience.

This can't go on.

This... Rantes...

was with you the whole time yesterday?

Yes, I picked him up and

brought him back.

The other patients say that he led

last night's activity.

The sentence was handed down

and would be carried out.

I had my orders.

After all, in this story

I was only Pilate.

I felt guilty, not about hoping

that Rantes would slip up,

but about how little

his future troubles bothered me.

The Saint, as was her custom,

had disappeared,

vaguely promising to visit soon.

Oh, Doctor.

I was worried.

I didn't mean any harm.

Please forgive me if my behavior

yesterday caused you problems.

- I'm sorry.

- It's all right.

I understand storing information,

but what makes them function?

What keeps them going?

What makes them feel?

Is that what you call the ''soul''?

You did nothing wrong except

making yourself conspicuous.

You made the papers and

the Director looks like a fool.

There are torturers who

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