get serious. around him, other single eyes pop open, searching for the source of this unmeditative sound. max nods and smiles a wry smile as if to say: this just ain't doin' it for me, folks.
only what they promise in the brochure: inner peace, serenity, and a nice chant that gets rid of this rock in my gut. e.s.t., they do you in a weekend.
impossible to predict, betsy ilene kahn. maybe you better give me my ticket.
i think only you can answer that, betsy ilene kahn. she slaps him.
do you really think that's an appropriate way to get rid of your western rage, bets? she swings at him again. he catches her hand hard in his fist.
one slap is romantic. two would call for retaliation.  lend me a hundred dollars. she yanks free, begins to chant her mantra as he grabs his knapsack and valise and goes out the door. now, she's silent and, in the simplest sense, deeply hurt. she can't help herself; she cares. we stay with her a moment as we -- dissolve to:
how you doin'? the clerk gives max a warm smile.
i've always wanted to walk into a little airport just about like this one and ask the guy at the counter the following question. ready?
when's the next flight to anywhere?
i'm wanting to go wherever you're wanting to take me.
unattached trumpet player and recently-certified associate guru. as he takes a hit on the flask, max's eye focuses on the little mirror on the dash. in it he can see manubai's eyes. if we were to judge by what he sees in them, she doesn't find him the least bit amusing. he smiles his smile at her.
he lies down on the bed. he's found nirvana.
i'm starving. he gives her his best saint's smile.
you sure i look all right? the little boy nods. max slips him several rupees.  and he, manubai, and ravi fold themselves into her tiny car as --
i said you have three days to get me into bed, and i'm betting you can't do it.
well, gee, i don't know. maybe i could say something so amusing that you'd laugh so hard it would break that hot poker you have up your ass. she stares at him. he bends to kiss her. she doesn't pull away.  but after a moment he realizes she isn't responding. he continues the kiss, but he opens his eyes.  to find her staring at him. he pulls back. they stare at each other another moment, then max senses someone in the doorway.
the same sound of frustration and ennui he made in the ashram.
no fruit basket? no mini bar? max hands the porter several rupees.
they're in the shotgun. there's the snap from center, the clock is running -- five, four, three -- he has an open man at the notre dame twenty for the victory.  and he freezes. he freezes! mr. choke chokes. the fans go -- a knock at the door. max shuts up, falls off the wall. he crosses to the door. opens it. poomina is 16, beautiful and exotic-looking behind her excessive makeup.
got an i.d. on you? how old are you?
i buy that. she approaches him seductively.
hold it, time out. time, there's time out on the field.
is problems, yeah, just a couple.
how 'bout some chow? i was just about to order some room service. food. i call, they come, we eat. she stares at him.
watching you eat was my great pleasure. now you go home. as he escorts her toward the door, poomina is distressed. max realizes she can't leave empty-handed. he pulls out some notes.
for you. she hasn't given up, though, and as he takes the money, she stands on tiptoe and kisses him. torn, max begins to respond. he stops himself, his grip on her causing her discomfort. his breath comes in little bursts.
you're a very wet kisser. work on it, get in touch in five years. he leads her toward the door. like some lunatic comedy. she resists. he pushes. she locks her knees. he opens the door.
goddamn it, cut it out! now, good night. he muscles her out the door, closes it, wipes his lips. he stares at a parade of cockroaches gliding along the wall as he listens to her crying quietly on the other side of the door. he debates.  and he loses. opens the door. poomina stands there; the tears stop and a lip- twitching smile lights her face.
five years already? gee, time really flies when you have no moral conviction. she slides into his arms, pressing against him. with his shoulder, he closes the door, leaving us outside.
short guys! quit lookin' at us! this remark goes over big with the thugs. max doesn't care. he knocks off the last of the beer in his bottle. the bartender brings them two shots of something in two unmatched glasses.
for you, i would drink battery acid.
i really don't think so -- oh no, nay, nay! i never lose the truly irrelevant contest.
well well. seek punishment and ye shall find. knowing what's coming, max nevertheless unleashes a beautiful howl and tries to trample the goonda off- tackle. from behind, he's hit with a length of stick. he goes down, looks up through blasted eyes at ashoka as two sticks now land against his shoulder and his head.
oh, i like the way the room moves in circles. i suppose i should inquire where i am.
is that geographic or spiritual?
did i do that to your nose? i'm sorry.
what was that -- a shetland pony?
thanks -- got it. he ducks outside for some air.
pardon the expression, but jesus h. christ. from the tea shop, surya, a stout old hindu man dressed in western clothes, raises a hand in greeting to joan. on the door max and joan have come through: "city of joy self help school & clinic." across the way, a young man is dandling a baby on his knee, rubbing its back and sniffing at its neck. small group of children around a blackboard with a teacher, margareta, doing numbers. ram chandar, the rickshaw puller, readies to go out to work. trying to orient himself, max turns.
you a doctor?
this is obviously one of those three days.
i came to find my white light.
kept opening the doors and windows of my spirit, but couldn't see a goddamn thing.
i suppose that depends how you define the word: i'm a doctor.
forget it. you've got your non- practicing catholics. i'm a non- practicing doctor.
found out i just really don't like sick people. well, i'm outta here. i owe you one.
thank you very much. let me.  he goes for his money.
come on, give him a shot. he's as fast as you and looks twice as strong.
absolutely. i trust the man. suddenly, ram comes to a stop.
i hope you're taking something for that. ram waves him off as hasari lifts the shafts to his hips.
i say he can do it. i'll bet you the fare he can do it. what do you think, rickshaw fans, can he do it? the crowd isn't in for fun. hasari strains forward. the rickshaw moves with him. ram moves alongside, shouting instructions and oaths. a cop comes on the run, screaming at hasai.  which makes ram importune more strongly and max joke more vociferously. even under this incredible pressue, hasari gains confidence and begins to move quicker, earning shouts of approval from max and ram, who now has trouble keeping up as they make their way through the maelstrom, an avalanche of oaths following them.
beef. you know -- cow? minced, little salt, pepper, slap it flat like this, throw it on the grill, flip it. now, though, he just glimpses the shiny gas tank and engine of a motorcycle around the hip of the waiter. he leans out.
put it on the grill, i'll be right back.
you know, i have to say you really don't look jewish. i believe that's mine.
really? max grabs ashoka.  who breaks free, and guns the cycle down a side street. max gives chase, his aching ribs slowing him a bit.
oh.  great.  good. good timing . him!
passport? i'm in the middle of a high speed chase. that guy --
it's in my hotel room.
ready my lips: i do not have my passport with me at this.  ah, i see, said the blind man. the cop obviously is doing this at ashoka's behest. max starts around the cop. the cop, however, sticks his club in max's face; there's fire in max's eyes.  but a hand takes the cop's stick before max can make a big mistake.
it's got to be like trying to drill a hole in water, though.
nope, no, earthly idea. you're pretty much outta my league, thought-wise.
only three -- okay. and what are they?
has it occurred to you that this obsession with charity is really a flaw in your character?
one of us sure as hell is. the clinic's part-time doctor, sunil dasgupta, comes out of the clinic after a very long day.
the same.
no, i'm the visiting american soccer star, el max.
when i was your age -- two movies, plus cartoons every saturday. aloka and amrita are cooking on an open fire bucket. max almost knocks the fire over. aloka looks at him, apolo- getic, shy.  as manooj knocks shambu down at max's feet. max scoops the little boy up.
there you go, little guy. ut -- what's this? reaching behind shambu's ear, max produces a boiled sweet. aloka watches this with a smile; their eyes touch again.  as manooj lets out a cry at the sight of their father.
that's only 40 dollars, isn't it?
i'll send it to you from america when i get home tomorrow.
repayment for punching you in the nose.
i don't have a cent on me. i'll owe you.
i don't have any experience with leprosy.
pull me two c.c.'s of coramine. he nods at aloka; she illuminates the scene.
uh-oh, uh-oh, who's this coming' down the lane? why it's -- is it possible -- way over here, in india -- yes, it's mr. choke. he comes to a stop. everyone stares at him. meeta moans. for a moment, he stays frozen. aloka reaches out instinctively, wipes the sweat from his eyes. this gesture seems to free him; he looks at her, looks at the room and its expectant, trusting faces.
i'm going to have to turn it -- the baby. tell her she has to relax these muscles as much as she can. he doesn't finish the sentence. aloka speaks softly to meeta as max takes meeta's arm, makes a tourniquet. joan hands him the syringe and he injects. hands the syringe back to joan and begins to work at turning the baby. aloka takes meeta's hand and it's a moment before we realize aloka, with her fine hand, is holding meeta's fingerless palm.
tell her again to breathe in short little bursts now. he demonstrates. aloka does the same to meeta. meeta tries to cooperate. and suddenly max has the baby turned.
all right! now, tell her to push. aloka translates. meeta pushes. the midwife, the little girl, aloka lean forward.
again. yes! again. it's coming.
i've got the head. come on, little baby, come on, little baby. be alive, be alive, be alive. aloka wipes the sweat away again. he looks at her, his voice squeezed out through his teeth.
we've got it, we've got it. yeah!
never been so scared in my life. it's a warm, open moment between them. but now there's the ongoing desperation of her needs.
can't do it. maybe you've got it in you to be a saint. i just don't.
you could make a helluva nurse. a little smile comes over her face; no one's ever paid her that kind of compliment. she goes into ram's hut, leaving max and hasari now.
listens.
but i want to go home with you.
yes.
good -- how -- name it.
i would love to do that, betsy ilene, boy would i love to do just that, but i'm financially embarrassed at the --
what credit cards? you know i maxed them before we left. just lend me --
they're calling our flight. i want to go home with you, betsy ilene kahn. because i have a vision. it's.  he's trying to woo and charm her. he mimes a kind of house shape.
i see you and me, betsy ilene kahn, nibbling toward each other through a quarter pounder with cheese, chugalugging a frosty light beer -- great taste! less filling! bowling! i want to go bowling, besty ilene kahn! he fires a strike through the watching crowd.
i want.  oh, my lord amighty, i want so many american things --
isn't that your name?
what should i call you? my girl, my significant other --
you do -- so what?
how could i possibly not understand a conversation as easy as this one, betsy ilene.
na ya don't.
i know.
you did.
will you at least call my mother and ask her to empty my savings account and wire --
guerilla theater, folks. 'all the world's a stage.' don't know if that word reached you here yet. if you'd care to show your appreciation by a small donation.  many smiles.  and several instant offers of rupees. a beat, then.
aw, what the hell. .  swallowing his incredible embarrassment, max takes the money.
good morning! good morning! heckuva morning! getting ready to practice medicine without a license, sister joan? you don't see me soliciting conversions, do you?
okay, for starters, pick me out someone with something easy i can heal, make me look good. aloka, you're my assistant, let's go. aloka smiles, she nods, she accepts.
i changed my mind.
okay, so i got left.
two weeks -- or until mom sends me a ticket.
no way. six weeks -- and that's my best offer.
done.
thanks -- got it. the children titter. the teacher, margareta, admonishes them to pay attention and be polite.  as we --
he's just malnourished. is she giving him the milk we gave her or selling it? aloka asks meeta in hindi. meeta clearly swears she's giving the baby the milk. aloka pushes her.
tell her to give all the milk to the baby.
psst. she looks at him.
it's okay.
good night, sunil.
wish i could, selima, because i'm sure hungry! sixteen hours of pestilence and misery always make me famished. i have to go with my man anouar tonight. i've got lepers to heal!
you're not tired, are you?
fifteen years from now: miami, florida, dr. manooj pal, in association with dr. maxwell loeb. for a moment, hasari is swept up in this little reverie, then remembers reality.
am i stupid, but isn't this protection money money we're paying you to protect us from you?
and how are we threatening your miracle?
well, i can't say i've developed a craving for it yet.
i like your taste in neckwear. joan puts a cautioning hand on max's arm. ashoka seems just the slight bit uneasy dealing with max and so keeps trying to direct himself to joan. he smokes a long indian cigarette.
i think i see a solution. may i? what if we were to work out a profit-sharing arrangement? we give you a share of our net profit.
beats the hell outta me, asshole. but you've obviously found a way. the question would seem to be whether ashoka will have max killed here or outside the house. his eyes on max, ashoka puts the cigarette out against the back of his hand.  and smiles at max.
i don't think so.  but with me, any duplicity is possible.
how the hell do you proceed with caution against these people? you can't. you have to risk everything.
you try to negotiate with these people, you make compromises with them, they'll eat you alive. stand up against them now and they'll fold. i guarantee it. underneath, they're cowards, they got no guts. we show them we're strong and the'll just move on to easier pickings.
i'm not wrong. you bow your heads, you plead with your gods to do what you won't do yourselves. you put up with this nightmare as if there were no choice. i'm telling you, if you don't stand up to that little pimple face now, he'll own you for the rest of your lives. everyone stares at him. many of them want to buy his commitment. there's another large sigh from surya. aloka and hasari's eyes bang off of each other, she silently urging him to speak. he's deeply conflicted and deeply frightened.
okay -- shott.
"irrigation"?
well?
what would you like to say to your wife?
on no! lepers! lepers in my neighborhood!
oh, oh, i didn't get the concept -- of course, not lepers. i think you're going to fool a lot of people. i have only one question: why are you here?
na, i'll just trot alongside hasari.
you're incorrigible, anouar.
the mistake's yours, putz. get these people inside. aloka starts forward, leading the lepers. she's stopped by a sudden blow from the goonda's stick across her shoulders, knocking her to the ground, bleeding from the neck. hasari bolts for his wife, gets caught up in the melee. max swings around on the goonda and for the first time we realize how strong he is, and that he knows how to box. the goonda goes down and violence erupts. anouar is chopping at the legs of one of the thugs working on said. the massive said tears free and starts to beat the crap out of the two thugs holding him. the noise brings everyone out of the square, those lined up at the clinic, the children from the school. sunil comes flying out of the clinic. a stampede of those waiting outside the dispensary and those normally in the crowded alley ensues. shanta runs inside for help. shopkeepers barricade their shop windows. one of the thugs pours gasoline over anouar and lights a match. hasari kneels beside aloka when he sees the match ignite the tiny leper. without thinking, hasari hurls himself on top of anouar, rolling him in the dirt and against his own body to put out the flames. joan shouts, demanding the violence stop. she's hit from behind; she decides talk isn't going to do it. she grabs a piece of lumber and starts to fight.
oh, little girl, little girl.  joan is suddenly beside ashoka.
if she's very careful and doesn't do anything to open the wound, the scarring will be minimal. do you understand? you can't.  you have to stay here. you make her stay here.
don't goddamn try, joan! goddamn do it! poomina peers through her pain at max, his hands putting her back together.
i hate this place, i hate this place, i hate this place. max looks at the doorway and he locks eyes with hasari. max breaks the contact. hasari stares at him as we hear the godfather's music on the radio.
i just don't.  i don't want to.  i don't want to care! i don't want to care this much! i just don't want to be invested in you people. in people! i became a goddamn doctor because my goddamn father wanted me to be a goddamn doctor because he was a goddamn doctor! he was the goddamn king of doctors! it's too goddamn hard! out of breath, out of words, joan reaches out and takes max to her, brings him beside her on the cot. beneath the "raft of medusa," she sits with an arm around max, as if he were her son.
i didn't do the best i could! i did what i always do! i shot my big mouth off and did a half-assed job. and what i want to do now is i want to go back to america and make money and live a life without entanglements and demands and people hanging on me.
got it: to run, to spectate, to commit. running spectator.
so what do you want me to do about it -- get it back for you? max takes away a step. stops.
i'm sorry. i'm going home. because this isn't my fight. i got one person to look after -- me. hasari stares at max. on the roof, the children listen. at the tea shop, the late-night talkers listen.
all right, i'm running out, okay? because i'm a coward, this is me, this is what i do, i get in over my head, i let people down, i run.
well, that was your goddamn mistake! max walks away, leaving hasari desolate. aloka comes to him.
this is for poomina. when i get home.  he thrusts the money on joan and max offers his hand; she goes through the hand to embrace max. then max and aloka look at each other.
what were those three choices again? their faces. and his with just a wistful version of his old grin.  and we --
i need aloka at the clinic. all right, they, the patients, need her. she's a good nurse. come on, man, this is between you and me. why take the kids out of school, why punish your wife? hasari holds his anger in; he moves to a mat and lies down, his back to max. but max doesn't go.
i have a little money, i can get it from the states.
hand me the scissors, please. helpfully said hands him the tweezers.
scissors, scissors. he demonstrates. said fumbles through the instruments, picking up the scissors by the ends.
not that end -- no, that's fine, thanks, i've got it.
you didn't steal this.
how much?
i'd like to show you something. just take a minute. a beat as hasari fixes max with an empty stare and the family waits to see if hasari will respond.
go ahead. go on.
i'm good with my hands. you're good with yours. what do you say? hasari looks at max, part resentful, part touched.
well, it's yours if you want it. you know the license, the cops, all that can be fixed. you'll own this -- it'll have nothing to do with the godfather.
you didn't want me to quit. well, i came back.
i hope so. hasari can see the hope and desire in max's face. after a moment, max steps aside. hasari bends his head and makes off. leaving max and a small sigh of disappointment.
going to look for work?
are you taking your medicine?
you must have had a good doctor. still no running, jumping, picking up anything heavy. and you stay here. you're going to help sister joan and you're going to school. do you understand? a beat, poomina nods. but now a look of abject fear comes over her face. the goonda stands in the doorway. max begins singing "sweet little sixteen." the goodna stares impassively at max.
i promised manooj and shambu i'd take them to the movies. is it all right?
thanks, guys. who wants to go for more peanuts? no one. we're talking about rapt attention. we hear nuts cracking. max smiles.
ha ha! you can be both! manooj pal, swashbuckling physician!
i wish my father loved me like your father loves you. your dad's a very special man. and now, en garde! as the battle continues, the bright beams of a truck come at them.
time out, men. off the street till this truck passes.
i can't do anything here. he's got a compound fracture, he hemorrhaging. we've got to get to a hospital -- now!
they'll admit him, but we have to pay for the blood. i gave him all i had. he wants more. do you have anything?
we haven't got any more! the attendant doesn't move.  until he sees max is about to explode.
if this child dies while you stand here, i'll kill you. the attendant is smart enough not to push any further.
now, i need an x-ray room and i need an o.r. nurse.
then take me to one! as max takes flight with the attendant, aloka strokes shambu and hasari hovers. we close in on shambu's inanimate face and hold a moment.
we pinned his leg. couple of months, he'll be better than ever. they want to keep him today. we're a good team. gimme five. he smiles, holds out a palm for them to slap. they look at the palm, unsure what this means. yet, each takes max's hand.
this is going to cost me every rupee i didn't make today.
a letter from your wife. ram nods nervously. max looks at the postmark as he slices it open with a finger.
this is postmarked six weeks ago.
so, what have you been doing -- incubating it?
'my dear husband'
'your words brought tears of joy to my arid eyes.'
correct. her eyes were dry, your letter irrigated them.
listen. i don't want you to think i'm crazy, but i don't think that truck was an accident.
can i go with you? i'll go with you. can i go with you if i shut up? a beat.  and hasari gives him a small nod.
ashoka ordered me to go home. well, i've come home.
last time you told me you were more than two women could manage.
okay, you ought to be good for another few days. send in the next patient.
my dear friends, it's just occurred to me what inspired me to stay here. thinking he's about to make some cogent remark about this unified effort.
the opportunity to acquire waterfront property at a reasonable price. joan begins to laugh; the others don't get it, query each other as to what's funny about that.
i'd throw my cape down, but i'm all out of dry capes. he sloshes through the water to them, wiping his muddy hands on his pants. he offers a semi-clean hand to each in turn.
it's very nice to see you. both of you.
shall we unload the car?
people grow older; sometimes they even grow up. he smiles a sweet smile at her. she smiles back at him.
we're here! we're here! chomotkar holds the door up as meeta holds the baby out in the direction of max's voice. max catches the baby as the house slips down, then grabs meeta, who clings to him.
oh, jesus, the guy went to sleep when he was supposed to be working? i gotta get up -- he tries to get up. joan pushes him back down.
all right. yeah, i am, i'm all right. he is a little delirious. the boys come close, kneel at his side, instinctively reach out to him.
want you guys to know something. about me. wanted to be the world's greatest heart surgeon, just one better than my dad. just one. first time i'm the lead surgeon on a case, the main guy, i choke. froze. the chief made me step aside. my teacher. had to take over for me. went into radiology. photography. had to have somethin' easy. no pressure. wasn't too nuts about myself. quit. hasari reaches out and touches max, telling him with a touch that it's all right. he stares up through bleary eyes at all of them with utterly open love. amrita holds out a small gift to him: it's a banana leaf, holding a small scoop of rice and surrounded by little decorative leaves.
you people.  you.  i love you guys.
hey, come on, don't do this.
don't do this.
why?
you can't do this! he takes no more than a step at ashoka, a hand coming up, when he's hit hard from behind. goes to his knees.
jesus christ. his hand comes away from the back of his head with blood. he tries to rise and is hit again.
why don't you go on home. i'll stay with him. sunil nods. max grips sunil's hand strongly. sunil goes down the steps. max moves to hasari's bedside. he watches hasari breathing. he looks up at "the raft of the medusa."
get serious.
how's it going?
what do you mean?
but that's great.
i thought that's why we've been writing all these letters.