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Wednesday - September 15

Henry's eye's surrender to shame, and says, "I didn't mean it like that. I just meant that..."

Raymond stretches his arm out, reaching for a decanter of wine hidden towards the rear of a mobile minibar. Grabbing the bottleneck, he earnestly guides it toward him, removes the stopper, then says to Henry, "I didn't mean it like that either." Raymond graciously pours himself a generous amount of Chianti. Satisfied that the goblet's content is sufficient for his enjoyment, he returns the stopper back to the bottle's neck, and then returns the decanter to its original place without demonstrating any hospitable etiquette. Jealous, Henry stares at Raymond as he engulfs the sweet nectar.

"Um," comments Raymond. He set the wine goblet back on the minibar, grabs a linen napkin, and in precise synchronization, carefully dabs a small section of his lips, as if he were wiping away a veil of tears from someone he's comforting. When Raymond finishes, he lays the napkin down on the minibar, picks up the empty goblet, and in a split second throws the goblet into the unused fireplace, yelling, "Damn it, Henry! Is this what we want! I don't know if I can live with this on my conscience for the rest of my life! I knew something had to be done, but it's so damn random! It can happen to anyone at any time, including us!"

Henry stares at Raymond and doesn't immediately speak. Instead, he turns his head to view the broken goblet in the fireplace, and then turns back to Raymond replying, "Is that the only glass you have? If it isn't, I sure would like to have some of that wine."

Raymond is stupefied by Henry's comment. He grabs the Chianti and tosses it to Henry, who catches it like a professional baseball catcher.

"Thanks," says Henry, as he nods his head to Raymond.

"You're welcome."

Henry begins to glutton the decanter's contents.

"How far do you think he'll go, Henry?" Raymond asks over his shoulders, as he wheels off to an adjoining room.

"I don't know. If he thinks it's necessary, then I guess I'm all right with it," replies Henry.

Henry chugs the wine when he hears the humming noise of Raymond's wheelchair returning. He notices a black velvet bag resting on Raymond's lap. Uncertain of the bag's contents, Henry stands, and asks, "What's in the bag, Raymond?"

Raymond continues to move towards Henry. Henry grips the decanter tightly, just in case he needs to use it for his defense. Feeling shaky and nervous, Henry is about to raise the decanter, when Raymond stops his wheelchair, and hands the black velvet bag over to Henry. Cautiously, Henry sets the decanter down on the floor, leans forward to take the bag from Raymond, keeping a sharp eye out in case something goes awry.

Raymond turns his wheelchair around and returns to the minibar to pour himself another drink. Henry looks at him, and then the bag. Carefully, he unties the string securing the bag. Continuing to be cautious, Henry tries to keep one eye on the bag, and the other on Raymond. When Henry gets the bag open, he looks inside, and inserts his hand to retrieve its contents. Pulling it out, he looks at Raymond, saying, "The fifth one." Tossing it about in his hand, Henry continues, "I guess it's on, Raymond. To the future!" salutes Henry, as he bends down and picks up the half drunken decanter and inhales a large quantity.

Raymond raises his goblet in a toast and says, "To the future!" and takes a gentleman's sip, gleaming delightfully.

After both men finish basking in their premature victory celebration, Henry's cell starts to ring. He sets the decanter down on the floor again, and then reaches into his breast pocket to remove his cell. He looks to see who the caller is, but the number is blocked. Unsure whether to answer it or not, Raymond says, "Answer it. It's him."