Sequence Read online

  CYNTHIA

  Then why not stop now? Why roll the dice one last time? You could lose it all today.

  THEO

  I know.

  CYNTHIA

  Well, Mr. Super-Lucky-Man, if it makes you feel any better, I don’t think you’re going to lose today.

  CYNTHIA hands THEO his briefcase.

  I’ve figured out your secret.

  Laboratory

  MR. ADAMSON

  So tell me. What’s the catch?

  DR. GUZMAN

  The catch is, if you guess wrong on the coin flip, there will be a consequence.

  MR. ADAMSON

  Excuse me?

  DR. GUZMAN

  Without stakes, how can we truly evaluate the “unlucky” hypothesis?

  MR. ADAMSON

  So this is some kind of test?

  DR. GUZMAN

  An experiment, if you will. A critical assessment of your luck. Or lack thereof.

  MR. ADAMSON

  What do you mean, consequence?

  DR. GUZMAN

  I’m sure we can think of something. I know I have a bottle of H2SO4 here somewhere.

  MR. ADAMSON

  h2so4?

  DR. GUZMAN

  Sulphuric acid. So which is it? Heads or tails?

  MR. ADAMSON

  Why the egg? Why did the egg come first?

  DR. GUZMAN

  Ah. We know all new species appear via mutation. Since DNA can only be modified prenatally, the first chicken egg gave birth to the first chicken.

  MR. ADAMSON comes across a phone jack in the wall. He follows the wire.

  MR. ADAMSON

  But a chicken laid the egg in the first place.

  DR. GUZMAN

  No. A creature which was similar to a chicken, but technically not a chicken, laid that first egg. Likely the Red Junglefowl.

  DR. GUZMAN finds a stethoscope, uses it to listen to the briefcase lock.

  MR. ADAMSON

  Fine, but which came first, the Red Junglefowl or the egg?

  DR. GUZMAN

  The egg. Same logic. Wouldn’t you agree?

  MR. ADAMSON

  No. I would not. “And God said, Let the waters bring forth abundantly the moving creature that hath life, and fowl that may fly above the earth in the open firmament of Heaven.”

  DR. GUZMAN

  So your money is on the chicken.

  MR. ADAMSON

  My money is on God. It doesn’t matter whether God created the egg first or the chicken first. It’s irrelevant. It doesn’t matter if it’s Watson and Crick. Baskin and Robbins. Ernie and Bert.

  DR. GUZMAN

  Bert and Ernie. Only thirteen per cent of the population says Ernie and Bert.

  As DR. GUZMAN writes 13% on the board, MR. ADAMSON follows the phone wire to a desk.

  MR. ADAMSON

  Did you get a research grant to study that?

  DR. GUZMAN

  Somebody did. What I’m saying is, everything has an order. It’s fundamental. It’s intrinsic. The order is everything.

  Under some papers on the desk, MR. ADAMSON finds a cordless phone base.

  MR. ADAMSON

  Why does it matter if it’s Ernie and Bert or Bert and Ernie? They’re still the same people.

  DR. GUZMAN

  Muppets. Ernie has no DNA. Ernie has no parents. Ernie has no God.

  MR. ADAMSON

  Everything has a God.

  DR. GUZMAN

  Even Oscar the Grouch?

  MR. ADAMSON

  Even you.

  The cordless phone locator alarm beeps.

  DR. GUZMAN holds up the phone handset.

  DR. GUZMAN

  Looking for this?

  She climbs the ladder, places the phone on a shelf, out of his reach.

  We have a hypothesis to test. Heads or tails, Mr. Adamson.

  MR. ADAMSON

  Why not tails or heads?

  DR. GUZMAN

  Ha! So what you’re saying is, it doesn’t matter. We all put our pants on one leg at a time. Whether it’s your right leg first or your left, the order doesn’t matter, right?

  MR. ADAMSON

  You still end up wearing pants.

  DR. GUZMAN

  Ah, but that’s where you’re wrong. It does matter. Would you believe which pant leg you put on first is a question that has significant scientific implications? And, it’s predictable.

  MR. ADAMSON

  Are you telling me you can predict which leg I put on first?

  Auditorium

  THEO

  What’s the secret?

  CYNTHIA draws on the board: Hs and Ts.

  CYNTHIA

  I’ve been analyzing your picks. Tails. Heads. Tails. Tails. Heads. Heads. Heads. Tails tails tails tails tails heads heads heads heads heads heads heads, and, last year, heads.

  THEO

  I’m honoured. And disturbed.

  THEO nudges toward the door.

  CYNTHIA

  Notice anything interesting?

  THEO

  About what?

  CYNTHIA

  About the sequence.

  THEO

  Like what?

  CYNTHIA

  How do you make your picks?

  THEO

  I pick them out of a hat.

  CYNTHIA

  Bullshit!

  THEO

  If you really must know, I make my picks by flipping a coin.

  CYNTHIA

  You pick the result of the coin flip by actually flipping a coin?

  THEO

  Seemed appropriate.

  CYNTHIA

  So you take your lucky coin…

  THEO

  No, I lost my “lucky coin” after year six. So now I use any old coin. It’s not the coin that’s lucky. Although, I will say, year seven was a bit suspenseful.

  CYNTHIA

  And you flip it.

  THEO

  Once a year.

  CYNTHIA

  And by flipping that coin you got that sequence. Tails. Heads. Tails. Tails. Et cetera.

  THEO

  The last eight have been heads.

  CYNTHIA

  Yes. That’s quite a feat in itself. Do you know what the odds are of getting eight heads in a row? One in 256.

  THEO

  Most people are betting on nine in a row. The odds in Vegas are six to five for heads this year.

  CYNTHIA

  Are you telling me millions of people collectively believe that because you’ve had eight heads in a row you’re more likely to have nine?

  THEO

  Hundreds of millions.

  CYNTHIA

  Idiots!

  THEO

  Why are they idiots? How do you know they’re wrong?

  CYNTHIA

  They’re being seduced by the last eight heads. But the odds of the next one being heads remains one in two.

  THEO

  They still might be right.

  THEO checks his watch. He wears it on his right wrist.

  What time is it? I should make my pick.

  CYNTHIA

  This year, I’d pick tails.

  THEO

  Why tails?

  CYNTHIA

  Trust me.

  THEO

  If you’re so convinced, why don’t you put your money where your mouth is?

  THEO opens the door.

  CYNTHIA

  Okay. If it comes up heads, I’ll sleep with you.

  THEO stops.

  THEO

  Go on.

&nbs
p; CYNTHIA

  Let’s examine your sequence mathematically. One tails. One heads. Two tails. Three heads. Five tails. Eight heads. One one two three five eight.

  She circles groups of Hs and Ts, then writes 1 1 2 3 5 8.

  THEO

  That’s my briefcase combination. One one two, three five eight.

  CYNTHIA

  Are you serious? Why that number?

  THEO

  I’ve always used that number, ever since I was a kid.

  THEO looks at his watch.

  CYNTHIA

  Do you know what that is? One one two three five eight. It’s the first six numbers of the Fibonacci sequence… the most fundamental and universal mathematical sequence ever identified!

  Laboratory

  DR. GUZMAN

  Your right. Then your left.

  MR. ADAMSON tries on an imaginary set of pants.

  MR. ADAMSON

  How do you know that?

  MR. ADAMSON circles the room, looking for something he can use to reach the phone.

  DR. GUZMAN

  Over the course of our lifetime, we will put on our pants forty thousand times. And whether it’s right then left, or vice versa, do you know how many times the average person will do it in reverse? Never! From the age of six, we are absolutely faithful to that order. Try doing it backwards sometime. See how awkward it feels. How alien. But why? How does a child even learn which leg to put on first?

  MR. ADAMSON

  From their mom?

  DR. GUZMAN

  Precisely! But not how you think. For fraternal twins, the concordance rate on the pant leg order was sixty per cent. In identical twins… ninety-eight per cent. Ergo…

  MR. ADAMSON

  Are you trying to tell me if I put my pants on right leg first, that’s genetic? That’s crazy.

  DR. GUZMAN

  I’ve identified the PLO gene.

  MR. ADAMSON

  PLO?

  DR. GUZMAN

  Pant Leg Order. It’s X-linked. You get it from your mom, who got it from her dad. I’m hoping to publish the results. If I can make it past the damn peer review.

  MR. ADAMSON

  I’m sure the Nobel Prize committee will be all over this.

  MR. ADAMSON finds a book on the floor.

  DR. GUZMAN

  How dare you. I’ve spent a significant portion of my professional career unearthing this gene.

  MR. ADAMSON

  I don’t get it. This is your big idea? One day you say to yourself, before I die, I must figure out the whole pant leg mystery? Then, on to the Colonel’s secret recipe!

  DR. GUZMAN

  I realize it may seem trivial. But what you fail to understand, Mr. Adamson, is that genetics is like real estate. Location location location. It’s not the house. It’s the neighbourhood. Because you just never know who’s going to move in next door.

  Making sure DR. GUZMAN is not looking, MR. ADAMSON throws the book toward the phone on the shelf. He misses, the book falls to the floor.

  To disguise the noise he sneezes.

  Bless you.

  MR. ADAMSON

  Bless me?

  DR. GUZMAN

  It’s just an expression.

  MR. ADAMSON

  People used to believe when you sneeze, you are in that brief moment between Heaven and Hell. And if you were blessed, you’d be saved from damnation.

  MR. ADAMSON tries again with the book. Again he sneezes.

  This time, THEO sneezes simultaneously.

  DR. GUZMAN

  Noroc.

  Auditorium

  CYNTHIA

  Bless you.

  THEO

  Thank you. In Romania, they say noroc. To your luck.

  CYNTHIA

  I’ll have to remember that.

  Laboratory

  MR. ADAMSON

  A sneeze means someone is talking about you. One sneeze good. Two bad.

  DR. GUZMAN notices the book on the floor. She grabs it, puts it on a shelf.

  DR. GUZMAN

  You know what three means? You’re catching a cold.

  Auditorium

  CYNTHIA writes on the board…

  CYNTHIA

  Fibonacci is a recursive sequence, where each number is the sum of the previous two. You start with the numbers zero and one. And you add them together, which gives you the next number, which is one. Then you add the last two numbers together, one and one, and that gives you two. Then again, you add the last two numbers together, one and two, and that gives you three. And so on.

  THEO

  Okay. So what does that mean?

  CYNTHIA

  So what’s fascinating is that you have been picking your numbers along the Fibonacci sequence.

  THEO

  I don’t understand.

  CYNTHIA

  Don’t you see? The Fibonacci sequence is seen in everything. In science. In nature. In how honeybees multiply. When you cut open a pineapple or a pine cone, they are arranged in a Fibonacci pattern.

  CYNTHIA draws a spiral on the board.

  And if you draw arcs from Fibonacci numbers, you end up with a spiral, like in seashells, galaxies, and even in our very own molecules. It’s in the architecture of the Acropolis. It’s there behind Jesus in Dalí’s Sacrament of the Last Supper.

  THEO

  What are you saying, that this Fibonacci has something to do with Jesus?

  CYNTHIA

  Who the hell knows? But it’s everywhere. And Fibonacci gave us the golden ratio, which we see in the dimensions of a credit card or a belt buckle or a widescreen TV. The Fibonacci sequence is integral to the structure of the universe and everything in it. It’s in our very own DNA.

  THEO

  But I don’t get it. Why am I choosing my coin flips based on these Fibonacci numbers?

  CYNTHIA

  I was hoping you would tell me.

  THEO

  Is that why you’re here?

  CYNTHIA

  I’m here because there’s a genetic disease in my family.

  Laboratory

  DR. GUZMAN

  Of course… I didn’t set out on a mission to find the PLO gene. I was going to discover the gene for RP. Retinitis pigmentosa. Cure blindness. Cure myself. That was going to be my life’s work.

  DR. GUZMAN tries using her white cane to pry open the briefcase.

  MR. ADAMSON

  That would have been quite a story.

  DR. GUZMAN

  Damn right. Instant immortality.

  She whacks the briefcase with her cane.

  What is this thing made of, osmium diboride?

  She hurls the white cane across the room.

  Even the quest was a compelling story. Afflicted researcher strives to identify her own gene before she goes blind. The grant money came pouring in. I even used my own tissue as a genetic sample. Like the guy who discovered the suicide gene. Then killed himself.

  MR. ADAMSON

  Wow.

  DR. GUZMAN

  I know. Seems paradoxical, doesn’t it? The suicide gene is a dead end, so to speak. It should have been a lethal mutation. Like, say, a gene that caused a target-shaped rash to appear on your forehead right before hunting season.

  MR. ADAMSON picks up the white cane.

  MR. ADAMSON

  So how can there be a gene for suicide?

  DR. GUZMAN

  Ah, but what if the suicide gene gives you some sort of competitive advantage? Maybe people who have this gene are more fearless. They take bigger risks. Have more sex, more progeny. Before they pull the trigger.

  MR. ADAMSON

  My dad committed suicide.

 
; DR. GUZMAN

  If you give me some blood, I can test you for the gene.

  MR. ADAMSON

  Then what?

  DR. GUZMAN

  Then you know. That’s all. Diagnose, adios.

  MR. ADAMSON

  But if you know the gene, why can’t you just cure the disease?

  DR. GUZMAN

  It’s not that easy. For starters, you need a billion dollars to go from gene to drug. And you need a lot of luck.

  Delicately, MR. ADAMSON attempts to bring down the phone using the white cane.

  And somebody got lucky. Somebody else.

  MR. ADAMSON

  Somebody else discovered your gene?

  DR. GUZMAN

  Using a culture of my own cells. This young kid doing his post-doc throws up a prayer and discovers the very gene I’d spent my whole life chasing.

  MR. ADAMSON

  That doesn’t seem fair.

  DR. GUZMAN

  Fair? Is it fair that you can’t walk? Is it fair that some prick stole my gene from right under my nose? Fairness is not in the equation. Science doesn’t belong to anybody. It’s not a creation. It’s a discovery. If somebody didn’t accidentally stumble upon penicillin, the double helix, or the goddamn Slinky, somebody else would have. Can you imagine the world today without a Slinky? Impossible!

  MR. ADAMSON

  So why did you fail? You were smart enough, hard-working enough. Motivated enough. You know why you failed?

  DR. GUZMAN

  The same reason I got defective eyeballs. Short straw.

  MR. ADAMSON

  But why? Why weren’t you the lucky one?

  The phone crashes to the ground. DR. GUZMAN grabs it, puts it away.

  DR. GUZMAN

  I might ask you the same thing.

  MR. ADAMSON

  I’m not unlucky.

  DR. GUZMAN

  Prove it. Heads or tails.

  No response.

  Then I can’t help you.

  MR. ADAMSON turns his back to DR. GUZMAN, shields her view.

  He opens a Bible on his lap, drops something onto the open book.

  MR. ADAMSON

  Heads.

  DR. GUZMAN flips the coin. She tries to catch it, but the coin clatters to the floor.

  DR. GUZMAN

  Dammit.

  She drops to her knees, searches for the coin.

  Things that require peripheral vision. Driving a car, pouring a drink, and, apparently, flipping a damn coin.

  She finds the coin.

  Tails. Unlucky.

  MR. ADAMSON

  Or… maybe God wanted me to stay. Just like maybe God wanted you to fail.

  DR. GUZMAN

  Am I being punished? Have I angered the gods?