[Scene] Diego and Acro in: Getting to Know You
Set sometime in February, not too long after Diego arrives at the prison.
Diego: *He doesn't like having to stay in the infirmary, in this bed. It makes him restless, though he has no shortage of books to read to occupy his time. The infirmary is quiet. There's a nurse in the corner and a guard by the door, and only one other prisoner present: a man in a wheelchair next to the window. Diego has seen him a few times since coming here. Judging by the time of day, he's here for his physical therapy. The physical therapist, however, isn't. No one has bothered to say anything to the man about it.* Hi there. I think she's running late. I heard them mention something about that earlier.
Ken: *Up until the man in the bed spoke, the view outside the window had his full attention. He's wondered about the recent arrival. They haven't really spoken before. He angles his chair in order to face the man.* Oh, okay. Thanks. I'll just wait, not that I wouldn't. Wait. *he smiles at the man, wondering if he can see* I'm Ken.
Diego: *smiles* My name's Diego. Nice to meet you. Have you been here long? *he laughs wryly, mostly at himself.* I'm still not used to these prison icebreakers.
Ken: Yes, I've been here a while now. It's good to meet you too, Diego. *he smiles again, since Diego seems to have noticed* My icebreaking is kind of rusty. Are you getting--treatment today?
Diego: In a manner of speaking, but mostly I'm under observation. *on the last two words, his tone grows more sardonic* Though I won't need observing much longer. *he adds, unhurriedly and still smiling* They seem to think my condition's improving.
Ken: *he nods in understanding, though not very much of it* That's great--that you won't need to be under observation much longer. I hope they're right about your condition. Is it permanent?
Diego: Parts of it aren't, and parts of it probably are, but they don't know for sure. You might say I'm something of a medical mystery. *he laughs*
Ken: *He would say that Diego is different from what he expected, but he hadn't had any expectations. It's different, hearing Diego laugh. He smiles in return, even though the man's laughter isn't exactly happy.* That's rough--the uncertainty. I guess some mysteries take longer to solve than others. *It's the classic prison question, but he's curious.* Will you be here long, Diego?
Diego: A few years, give or take. I intend to behave myself, so maybe it'll be more take than give. *the other man has already asked, so he might as well ask in return* What about you?
Ken: *He nods.* That's great. Oh, I'm here for good. I mean that both ways. I belong here, but that's okay.
Diego: I understand. I belong here, too. *he pauses. He doesn't see why he shouldn't ask.* What happened? Why are you here?
Ken: *looks down at his hands, out the window at a bird perching on the bars, and back to the man in the bed.* I was with the circus at the time. I made an attempt on someone's life and killed my father instead. It was an accident, but I still meant to kill someone. Then I let another man, a magician, nearly get convicted of my crime. I was lucky, though. The magician's lawyer got me to confess. I'm grateful to him for that.
Diego: *regards suddenly realizes who the man he's talking to is.* Yes, Phoenix Wright.
Ken: Yeah, that was the lawyer's name. Do you know him? Was he your lawyer, too?
Diego: No, he was never my lawyer, but I read all of his cases. I fought against him in court. He was the one who proved me guilty of my crime. For which I'm grateful as well.
Ken: *surprised* You--you're a lawyer? A prosecutor? *he nods, taking the rest of Diego's words at face value* You must have a lot of respect for Mr. Wright.
Diego: I was a lawyer, yes. And yes, I do have a lot of respect for him. I'm glad to hear that you do, too. I'm sure the same can't be said for all the people Wright's put in here.
Ken: *thoughtful, he glances out of the window at the bird still perching on the bars. The bird, a warbler, has company now, a pair of sparrows. While he watches, the male of the pair hops down onto the sill. Ken turns his attention back to Diego.* Yeah, I haven't see a lot of the other inmates yet, but that's probably true. It's hard to let go of anger if you're not honest with yourself. Do you mind if I ask why you're here? If you don't want to talk about it, I understand.
Diego: *now that he knows who this man is, he's relaxed* I don't mind. *he pauses to gather his words, then stops, laughs. He hardly knows where to begin* It's a long story. But I tried to protect a woman. The sister of the woman I loved. And I did--protect her. But in the process, another woman, an innocent woman, died. That was my fault. I made mistakes. That's why I'm here.
Ken: *intent on listening to Diego, he doesn't look aside when the sparrow hops from the windowsill onto his shoulder, followed shortly by his mate.* That does sounds like a long story, and a sad one. You meant well. I'm sorry it went wrong. *the warbler flutters from the bars to perch on the top of Ken's head, near his topknot. He absently holds up his hand, fingers curled, but the warbler doesn't land yet.*
Diego: *he's startled by the birds, enough so that he forgets to speak for a moment.* How do you do that?
Ken: *as Diego speaks, the warbler makes his move, fluttering down to settle on Ken's fingers, tilting his head up to Ken's face. Ken smiles, looking up as Diego speaks.* Oh, the birds? I've always liked animals. They seem to like me back. Here, it's just the birds, but they're good company.
Diego: They look it. I like animals, but--I've never had wild birds come up to me like that. I don't think I'd have the patience.
Ken: *the sparrows make themselves busily at home, hopping from Ken's shoulder to the sill to the handles of his chair in a little circuit.* After--the accident, I spent a lot of time in my room. The circus birds came to see me. They never left me, even through the trial. I miss them, but they belong with the circus. I like the birds here just fine.
Diego: *he watches the birds. They're a bit mesmerizing.* I'm glad you're not alone here. No one should have to be alone.
Ken: *thoughtfully, as the sparrows hop and perch* Thanks. Sometimes I feel alone, but I know I'm not, even if I'm on my own. Do you feel alone, Diego?
Diego: *he is taken aback by the directness of the question, but directness is a trait he appreciates, so he answers almost at once.* Yes, I do. I was gone--out of the world, for a long time. When I came back, everything I wanted was gone.
Ken: *he nods. It's the feeling he understands, if not the facts.* I'm sorry. It's hard, losing control and losing time. Losing people. You're not really alone though, you have people who care about you, think about you. Even if you're not with them. *he pauses* Even if you're out of the world. What does that mean?
Diego: There are still people who think about me. You're right about that. *he smiles. Ken is easy to talk to. If this were almost anyone else, he might well avoid discussing this matter.* I was working on a case. Years ago. Things went wrong, and I was poisoned. I almost died. Everyone expected me to die. I was in a deep coma for more than five years. When I woke up, things had changed a great deal.
Ken: *shifts suddenly in his chair, causing the warbler to flutter mid-air for a minute before settling back onto its perch* You--came out of a deep coma? That's amazing. *he gathers himself* I'm--sorry, about what happened to you. It must have been hard, waking up like that. I've never met anyone who came out of a coma. My little brother--he's been like that for a few years now.
Diego: *gently* I know. I read the case transcripts. *thinking back over those transcripts, he wonders anew how he could have misjudged Wright so badly.* I'm sorry about what happened to your brother. I wish-- But I wouldn't want to give you any false hope. No one knows why I woke up. One day I just smelled coffee again, and I opened my eyes.
Ken: *he smiles* Coffee? You must really like it. *he laughs softly, feeling a little overwhelmed*. I've never heard of anything like that. Thanks. I don't think it gives me false hope, though. I don't know that hope can really be false.
Diego: Yes, you might say I like coffee. *laughs, then turns pensive* And you're right. I was wrong. It is always good to have hope.
Ken: *he runs a finger over the warbler's head* Hope can be hard to keep when you need it the most. If you struggle to make it stay, it can slip away. I try to just let it be. *thoughtful, he pauses to let the warbler hop back to its previous perch on his shoulder, then wheels over to Diego's bedside.* It isn't hard, if you want to try it. *he holds out his hand, outstretched towards Diego, and the warbler flutters down to perch on his fingers once more* Here.
Diego: *he hadn't expected this, but he moves smoothly, reaching out his own hand. The bird, as if following Ken's unspoken orders, hops from the other man's hand into his own. Once this is done, he doesn't quite know what to do. He watches the bird quietly, not wanting to startle it.*
Ken: *he smiles* I've never tried that before. It's okay, Diego. Just let it be. Enjoy it while it lasts.
Diego: All right. I will. *somehow the bird seems smaller and more delicate, close up. It pecks at his fingertips curiously. The minutes pass slowly, and everything is calm. When at last, the bird takes flight, it doesn't seem to be afraid, but moved by some unknowable need. It does not return to Ken. It flies directly to the window then up into the blue sky beyond. He watches it go.*
Ken: *The two sparrows, seeming to take their cue, follow the warbler.* Sometimes they stay awhile. I wish knew what makes them decide to stay or go. I don't think anyone knows that. That's okay, though. I guess I don't need to know everything. *He turns his attention back to Diego* Even if I don't understand, I'll see them again. *he smiles* If we talk more, you probably will too.
Diego: *returning the smile* I hope so.
Diego: *He doesn't like having to stay in the infirmary, in this bed. It makes him restless, though he has no shortage of books to read to occupy his time. The infirmary is quiet. There's a nurse in the corner and a guard by the door, and only one other prisoner present: a man in a wheelchair next to the window. Diego has seen him a few times since coming here. Judging by the time of day, he's here for his physical therapy. The physical therapist, however, isn't. No one has bothered to say anything to the man about it.* Hi there. I think she's running late. I heard them mention something about that earlier.
Ken: *Up until the man in the bed spoke, the view outside the window had his full attention. He's wondered about the recent arrival. They haven't really spoken before. He angles his chair in order to face the man.* Oh, okay. Thanks. I'll just wait, not that I wouldn't. Wait. *he smiles at the man, wondering if he can see* I'm Ken.
Diego: *smiles* My name's Diego. Nice to meet you. Have you been here long? *he laughs wryly, mostly at himself.* I'm still not used to these prison icebreakers.
Ken: Yes, I've been here a while now. It's good to meet you too, Diego. *he smiles again, since Diego seems to have noticed* My icebreaking is kind of rusty. Are you getting--treatment today?
Diego: In a manner of speaking, but mostly I'm under observation. *on the last two words, his tone grows more sardonic* Though I won't need observing much longer. *he adds, unhurriedly and still smiling* They seem to think my condition's improving.
Ken: *he nods in understanding, though not very much of it* That's great--that you won't need to be under observation much longer. I hope they're right about your condition. Is it permanent?
Diego: Parts of it aren't, and parts of it probably are, but they don't know for sure. You might say I'm something of a medical mystery. *he laughs*
Ken: *He would say that Diego is different from what he expected, but he hadn't had any expectations. It's different, hearing Diego laugh. He smiles in return, even though the man's laughter isn't exactly happy.* That's rough--the uncertainty. I guess some mysteries take longer to solve than others. *It's the classic prison question, but he's curious.* Will you be here long, Diego?
Diego: A few years, give or take. I intend to behave myself, so maybe it'll be more take than give. *the other man has already asked, so he might as well ask in return* What about you?
Ken: *He nods.* That's great. Oh, I'm here for good. I mean that both ways. I belong here, but that's okay.
Diego: I understand. I belong here, too. *he pauses. He doesn't see why he shouldn't ask.* What happened? Why are you here?
Ken: *looks down at his hands, out the window at a bird perching on the bars, and back to the man in the bed.* I was with the circus at the time. I made an attempt on someone's life and killed my father instead. It was an accident, but I still meant to kill someone. Then I let another man, a magician, nearly get convicted of my crime. I was lucky, though. The magician's lawyer got me to confess. I'm grateful to him for that.
Diego: *regards suddenly realizes who the man he's talking to is.* Yes, Phoenix Wright.
Ken: Yeah, that was the lawyer's name. Do you know him? Was he your lawyer, too?
Diego: No, he was never my lawyer, but I read all of his cases. I fought against him in court. He was the one who proved me guilty of my crime. For which I'm grateful as well.
Ken: *surprised* You--you're a lawyer? A prosecutor? *he nods, taking the rest of Diego's words at face value* You must have a lot of respect for Mr. Wright.
Diego: I was a lawyer, yes. And yes, I do have a lot of respect for him. I'm glad to hear that you do, too. I'm sure the same can't be said for all the people Wright's put in here.
Ken: *thoughtful, he glances out of the window at the bird still perching on the bars. The bird, a warbler, has company now, a pair of sparrows. While he watches, the male of the pair hops down onto the sill. Ken turns his attention back to Diego.* Yeah, I haven't see a lot of the other inmates yet, but that's probably true. It's hard to let go of anger if you're not honest with yourself. Do you mind if I ask why you're here? If you don't want to talk about it, I understand.
Diego: *now that he knows who this man is, he's relaxed* I don't mind. *he pauses to gather his words, then stops, laughs. He hardly knows where to begin* It's a long story. But I tried to protect a woman. The sister of the woman I loved. And I did--protect her. But in the process, another woman, an innocent woman, died. That was my fault. I made mistakes. That's why I'm here.
Ken: *intent on listening to Diego, he doesn't look aside when the sparrow hops from the windowsill onto his shoulder, followed shortly by his mate.* That does sounds like a long story, and a sad one. You meant well. I'm sorry it went wrong. *the warbler flutters from the bars to perch on the top of Ken's head, near his topknot. He absently holds up his hand, fingers curled, but the warbler doesn't land yet.*
Diego: *he's startled by the birds, enough so that he forgets to speak for a moment.* How do you do that?
Ken: *as Diego speaks, the warbler makes his move, fluttering down to settle on Ken's fingers, tilting his head up to Ken's face. Ken smiles, looking up as Diego speaks.* Oh, the birds? I've always liked animals. They seem to like me back. Here, it's just the birds, but they're good company.
Diego: They look it. I like animals, but--I've never had wild birds come up to me like that. I don't think I'd have the patience.
Ken: *the sparrows make themselves busily at home, hopping from Ken's shoulder to the sill to the handles of his chair in a little circuit.* After--the accident, I spent a lot of time in my room. The circus birds came to see me. They never left me, even through the trial. I miss them, but they belong with the circus. I like the birds here just fine.
Diego: *he watches the birds. They're a bit mesmerizing.* I'm glad you're not alone here. No one should have to be alone.
Ken: *thoughtfully, as the sparrows hop and perch* Thanks. Sometimes I feel alone, but I know I'm not, even if I'm on my own. Do you feel alone, Diego?
Diego: *he is taken aback by the directness of the question, but directness is a trait he appreciates, so he answers almost at once.* Yes, I do. I was gone--out of the world, for a long time. When I came back, everything I wanted was gone.
Ken: *he nods. It's the feeling he understands, if not the facts.* I'm sorry. It's hard, losing control and losing time. Losing people. You're not really alone though, you have people who care about you, think about you. Even if you're not with them. *he pauses* Even if you're out of the world. What does that mean?
Diego: There are still people who think about me. You're right about that. *he smiles. Ken is easy to talk to. If this were almost anyone else, he might well avoid discussing this matter.* I was working on a case. Years ago. Things went wrong, and I was poisoned. I almost died. Everyone expected me to die. I was in a deep coma for more than five years. When I woke up, things had changed a great deal.
Ken: *shifts suddenly in his chair, causing the warbler to flutter mid-air for a minute before settling back onto its perch* You--came out of a deep coma? That's amazing. *he gathers himself* I'm--sorry, about what happened to you. It must have been hard, waking up like that. I've never met anyone who came out of a coma. My little brother--he's been like that for a few years now.
Diego: *gently* I know. I read the case transcripts. *thinking back over those transcripts, he wonders anew how he could have misjudged Wright so badly.* I'm sorry about what happened to your brother. I wish-- But I wouldn't want to give you any false hope. No one knows why I woke up. One day I just smelled coffee again, and I opened my eyes.
Ken: *he smiles* Coffee? You must really like it. *he laughs softly, feeling a little overwhelmed*. I've never heard of anything like that. Thanks. I don't think it gives me false hope, though. I don't know that hope can really be false.
Diego: Yes, you might say I like coffee. *laughs, then turns pensive* And you're right. I was wrong. It is always good to have hope.
Ken: *he runs a finger over the warbler's head* Hope can be hard to keep when you need it the most. If you struggle to make it stay, it can slip away. I try to just let it be. *thoughtful, he pauses to let the warbler hop back to its previous perch on his shoulder, then wheels over to Diego's bedside.* It isn't hard, if you want to try it. *he holds out his hand, outstretched towards Diego, and the warbler flutters down to perch on his fingers once more* Here.
Diego: *he hadn't expected this, but he moves smoothly, reaching out his own hand. The bird, as if following Ken's unspoken orders, hops from the other man's hand into his own. Once this is done, he doesn't quite know what to do. He watches the bird quietly, not wanting to startle it.*
Ken: *he smiles* I've never tried that before. It's okay, Diego. Just let it be. Enjoy it while it lasts.
Diego: All right. I will. *somehow the bird seems smaller and more delicate, close up. It pecks at his fingertips curiously. The minutes pass slowly, and everything is calm. When at last, the bird takes flight, it doesn't seem to be afraid, but moved by some unknowable need. It does not return to Ken. It flies directly to the window then up into the blue sky beyond. He watches it go.*
Ken: *The two sparrows, seeming to take their cue, follow the warbler.* Sometimes they stay awhile. I wish knew what makes them decide to stay or go. I don't think anyone knows that. That's okay, though. I guess I don't need to know everything. *He turns his attention back to Diego* Even if I don't understand, I'll see them again. *he smiles* If we talk more, you probably will too.
Diego: *returning the smile* I hope so.