“Feed Me for One Week and I’ll Make Your Wife Walk Again .

   Get that rat out of my restaurant before he ruins my appetite.  Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to leave. This is a private establishment.  I’m not leaving. Not until I speak to the man sitting at that table by the window.  With me? What could a homeless man possibly want with me?  [laughter]  I want to make you an offer, Mr. Mercer.

 An offer? This should be good.    Give me food. One week of hot meals, and in exchange, I’ll cure your wife. I’ll make her walk again.    This is the funniest thing I’ve heard in years. You, a homeless man with no shoes, are going to cure my wife. Do you know how much I’ve spent on the best specialists in New York, Switzerland, Germany? Millions.

 Millions of dollars on the brightest doctors on the planet. And every single one told me the same thing, that Renata will never walk again.    Never. And you, a sewer rat, promise me a miracle in exchange for a bowl of soup?  The best specialists in the world were wrong, Mr. Mercer. And I can tell you exactly how they were wrong.

 Enough! Guards, throw him out. And if he comes back, call the police.  Wait. Stop. Let him speak.  Renata, for God’s sake, don’t encourage this.  I want to hear what he has to say.  You have 30 seconds. 30 seconds before they throw you out on your ass. Talk.  Mrs. Mercer, you didn’t suffer any damage to your spine.

What they told you is a lie.  What?  Your legs don’t work, but it’s not because your nerves are severed. Look at your fingernails. That blue tint at the base. Look at the swelling in your ankles that comes and goes depending on the time of day. And tell me, Mrs. Mercer, isn’t it true that every morning you wake up with a metallic taste in your mouth?  How do you know about the taste? I’ve never told anyone.

Not even Dr. Castell. I thought I was imagining it.  I know  because you’re not sick, Mrs. Mercer. You’re being poisoned. Slowly. And I’m the only man in this city who knows how to stop it.  This is slander. Mr. Mercer, don’t let this vagabond defame my work. I’ve treated your wife for 3 years. 3 years of dedicated care.

And now some lunatic off the street says I’m poisoning her?  I didn’t say you were poisoning  her, doctor. I said she’s being poisoned. You’re the one who  jumped to conclusions.  Mr. Mercer, I insist you have this man removed immediately.  Is it true? About the metallic taste?  Yes. Every morning.

For 3 years.  Fine. Fine, old man. You’ll eat.    Not because I believe a word of your madness, but because my wife asked. Tomorrow you come to my house, you get your week, and when no miracle happens, I’ll have you arrested for fraud.  Fair enough.    Who are you? Really?  I was someone once.

A long time ago.  We’ve arrived, sir.  Give me the staff quarters closest to Mrs. Mercer’s room. I didn’t come here to sleep like a king. I came here to work. Luxury is a distraction. Proximity is everything. My staff quarters? That’s what I said. Suit yourself, old man, but understand  this. My wife’s door stays guarded day and night, and Dr.

 Castell will be present for everything you do. You will not be alone with her for a single second. Understood.    What have you gotten yourself into, Mr. Ansel?  Nothing I can’t handle.  Be careful.  I’m finishing something I started a long time ago.  These rich folks will eat you alive if the miracle doesn’t happen.  There will be a miracle, Jean.

 I promise you that. Good morning, Mrs. Mercer. Today I’m not giving you any medicine. Today I’m just going to look at you, listen to you, touch what your doctors never bothered to touch. How very scientific. Look and listen. Pathetic. Do you feel this?  Nothing.  And if I press here, on the arch of your foot?  Nothing, doctor.

 I haven’t felt anything since the accident.  There. You felt something.  It was just a tingling, very faint.  A tingling you haven’t felt in 3 years. Don’t cry, Mrs. Mercer. Today’s tears are different from yesterday’s. These are the tears of a body that’s still alive. And a body that feels is a body that can heal.  Suggestion.

 He’s putting ideas in your head, Mrs. Mercer.  Then explain this. What is this? A special compound I prepare at my private pharmacy.  For her nerves. You wouldn’t understand.  A compound with no name, no laboratory, no registration, prepared by you personally? The only pills I know of that have no name and no registration are the ones someone doesn’t want anyone to trace.

 Mr. Mercer, I demand you stop this man from interfering with your wife’s medication. What are the consequences? Relapse, convulsions. She could become severely ill if she stops taking this compound. Mr. Mercer, I propose something. Stop this compound for 3 days, just three. If your wife gets worse, the doctor is right and I’ll turn myself into the police before the week is out.

 But if she gets better, then you’ll have to ask yourself why a doctor has been giving your wife a pill that makes her sick instead  of curing her. Suspend the compound. 3 days. Mr. Mercer, I must protest. Is my final word, Owen. 3 days.    The old man found the pills. He knows too much. We need to move up the plan.

   Mr. Ansel, I saw the doctor on the phone. He looked scared. He looked dangerous. Then nobody sleeps tonight, Jean. We protect that woman, even if it cost us our lives. Why, Mr. Ansel? Why her? Because if something happens to that woman, I couldn’t bear it. Not a second time.     Good evening, doctor.

I came to check on the patient. It’s my duty. At 3:30 in the morning? With a syringe you don’t plan to record anywhere? Give me that syringe, doctor. You have no right. I have the right to protect my patient. The right to expose a fraud. The right to finish what I started. JEAN! HELP! THE DOCTOR! THE DOCTOR IS TRYING TO KILL HER! WHAT THE HELL IS THIS? THIS crazy old man set a trap for me.

 I was only giving her the night time dose. What dose? You suspended the compound by Mr. Mercer’s order hours ago. So, what are you doing here at midnight with a needle?    Let’s send this to an independent lab right now and see what’s really in it. Mr. Mercer, will you really believe a homeless man you picked up off the street over the doctor who has cared for your family for 3 years?    Send it to the lab.

 Sir, send it to the lab. Renata, try to move your toes. Again. Try again, Mrs. Mercer.  I feel it. Ansel, I feel it. The sheet against my foot, the cold air. 3 years my legs were dead stones attached to my body and now they’re mine again.  They were always yours, Mrs. Mercer. Someone just stole them from you. And nobody steals from a Mercer twice.

 [singing]    Star surgeon accused in patient death. Dr. Ansel Reed loses license and disappears.     Before you touch my wife again, you’re going to explain one thing to me, Ansel Reed. Why did the woman you killed on that operating table have my last name? Because that woman was my wife.

And she was your wife’s mother.  What?  I didn’t come into your life by accident, Renata. I’ve been looking for you for 10 years. You don’t know who I really am. And the woman everyone says I killed was your real mother.  Tell me everything.  I wasn’t always this wreck you  see today. I was Dr.

 Ansel Reed, chief of surgery at Central Hospital. They called me the man with the golden hands. I operated on hearts that no one else dared to touch. I saved children who arrived with no hope. I had fame, money, respect, but the most valuable thing I ever had never fit in an office. Her name was Catherine.  Catherine. My mother.  Catherine was the most beautiful and bravest woman I ever knew.

 We fell in love when we were young and poor, before I was anyone. We married in secret because her family would never have accepted a surgeon with no family name. And from that love you were born, Renata. A baby girl with enormous eyes who grabbed my finger with all her strength when I held you. You were my whole world, hers, too.

 But Catherine’s family was powerful and proud. They never forgave her. They wanted  her back. They wanted you back, and they wanted something more. The inheritance in Catherine’s name,    a fortune that by will would pass to her daughter. To you.  What happened to her?  Ansel, your mother got sick. A heart condition that required surgery.

I was the best surgeon in the country, but by ethics I refused to operate on her myself. You never operate on someone you love because your hands shake. So  I trusted my team. I trusted a young doctor, ambitious, recommended by Catherine’s own family, a man who smiled too much and promised the impossible.

That man was Owen Cassell. During the operation something went wrong. The doses were altered. The records were manipulated. Catherine died on the table in front of my eyes, and I couldn’t do anything.  [sighs]  And when I tried to report what I had seen, it was too late. They had rewritten the whole story.

 Suddenly, the papers said I had operated. That I had made the fatal error. That I, with my golden hands, had killed my own wife through negligence.  They took my license. They dragged my name through the papers. They turned me into the monster who killed the  woman he loved.  And while I was drowning in that hell, they did what they always wanted.

 They took you from my arms. They put you in an orphanage. They raised you as a Mercer under their name, far away from me. They told me I would never see you again.  I spent 10 years on the street, Renata. 10 years sleeping on cardboard, eating from garbage, looking for you on every corner of every city.

 I lost my house, my name, my sanity at times, but I never lost one thing. The promise I made to your mother before she closed her eyes on that table. I swore I would find you. I swore I would protect you. I swore I wouldn’t let those bastards hurt you.  Three weeks ago, I was begging outside a hospital.  I heard two nurses talking about the invalid wife of the mogul Maxwell Mercer.

   A young, beautiful woman in a wheelchair that no doctor could cure. And about a trusted doctor who treated her, Dr. Owen Castell. That’s when I knew. I knew I had found you. And I knew the same hand that killed your mother was now killing you slowly in that bed.  No. No, this can’t be. No.  It’s the truth, my daughter.

I’ve been looking for you for 10 years. And now I’ve found you, and I swear on your mother’s memory, I will not lose you again.  Is this a revenge story? Did you come here to destroy my family name?  Mr. Mercer, do you really think a man seeking revenge would spend his last strength making his enemy’s wife walk again? I didn’t come to destroy anyone.

I came to save my daughter. And it turns out my daughter, by a cruel twist of fate, ended up married to you.  La, [singing and music] la, la.  That song. That’s the song your mother sang to you every night. She made it up for you. No one else knows that melody.  I’ve had it in my head my whole life. Since I can remember I thought I had dreamed it.

I asked my family and no one could tell me where it came from. They said I was crazy. It’s you. It really is you. You’re my  This is your mother. And that baby is you on the day you were born. The only thing I could save when they took everything from me. Look at the back, Renata. Look at what your mother had engraved.

 For my Renata, even if the world separates us, my love will find you. Mom.  There he is. That’s the man. Dr. Ansel Reed. Fugitive from justice, convicted of manslaughter 10 years ago. I’ve been tracking him for weeks. He infiltrated this house, drugged Mrs. Mercer with charlatan methods, and put her in grave danger.

 Officers, arrest him immediately.  No! He didn’t do anything. He’s curing me.  For your own  safety, ma’am. This man has an active arrest warrant.  Please. Don’t take him. He’s my father.  Listen to me, daughter. No matter what happens, do not take a single pill from that man. Not one. Do you hear me? Your life depends on it.

I will come back. I swear on your mother’s memory, I will come back.     Maxwell, you look upset.  I want the truth.  About what? Renata was sick before the accident. The neurological damage was already there. Her symptoms were being managed with medication that came from your personal doctor’s office.

 The same doctor who did her annual checkups before we were married.  And what are you going to do with this information? Did you know she was being poisoned?  Your wife is an outsider, Maxwell. She always was.  That’s not an answer.  She came into your life and she started taking over. Your attention, your time, your loyalty.

 You were a Mercer, and she was turning you into something else, a husband, a soft man.  The poisoning was gradual, Maxwell, barely detectable.  Just enough to slow her down, to make her dependent, to give her health problems that justifies the doctors, the isolation, the reduced social life.  You poisoned my wife.  I managed your wife, and she responded beautifully.

She stayed out of the way,    she stayed compliant, she stayed dependent, and you stayed a Mercer, doing your duty, making your appearances, fulfilling your obligations.  She’s my wife, not a machine you control.  She was an acquisition. You married her for her family’s name, remember? The Caldwell connection, the Boston money.

Don’t look so shocked, Maxwell. This is how our world works. How it’s always worked.  And now? And now the old man ruined everything. He stopped the medication. He made her functional. He made her dangerous.  Dangerous how?  Because a woman who can walk can go places. A woman who can walk can talk. A woman who can walk can remember who she was before she became Mrs.

 Maxwell Mercer. And she can find her real father. Who is apparently quite close by.  You’re sick.  I’m practical.  You wanted to turn my wife into an invalid so she’d stay out of your way. And you used her own doctor to do it.  I used the tools at my disposal.  Everything you just  said, the officers heard every word.

And my wife, who is apparently quite functional, heard it, too.     I remember you. The family dinners where I felt too tired to eat. The vacations where I needed to rest. The doctors you recommended. The medication you sent. Every single pill carefully explained to me as part of my treatment.

 I trusted you. You were supposed to be my family.  Sit down, Renata. You need to rest.  No. I don’t rest anymore. Not for you. Not for anyone. Arrest him.  Renata, think about what you’re doing. I’m the patriarch of this family. My name protects you.  Your name is the name of a man who tried to kill me. And I want it off every building, every hospital wing, every foundation that carries it.

 Mr. Mercer, Fernan Mercer, you are under arrest for conspiracy to commit assault, attempted murder, and criminal endangerment. You have the right to remain silent. You did this. You brought this into our family and let her destroy everything I built.  No, Dad. I loved her. You tried to kill her. There’s the line, and you crossed it.

     Ansel Reed is cleared of all accusations.  Dad.  You came.

 I walked from the car. It’s 20 ft. Took me 5 minutes. Want to see me try for 10?  I’d like nothing more.  One promise, one chance, one lifeline. Ansel Reed hear the name.    Ansel Reed stepping in the silver sky. Old gold done, but fire still high. Rich man laugh and  Dr.

 Reed, the schedule for room three?  Yes, prioritize the mobility cases.  And the new intake forms?    [singing]  Where are we going?  The Silver Sky. They offered us the whole restaurant. Just us.  I don’t need a whole restaurant. I need a chair and a plate of decent food.  You saved my life, Dad. The least I can do is buy you dinner.

 You don’t need to buy me anything.  You’re here. That’s enough.  Get in the car, old man.  Welcome to your table, Mr. Ansel.  My table?  This table has a permanent reservation now. Table one for Dr. Ansel Reed and his guests every Thursday, forever.  You didn’t need to do all this.  I did.

 Why?  Because this is where you found me. Or where I found you. I’m still not sure which. You were a homeless man with a garbage bag and a stethoscope. And you walked into the fanciest restaurant in New York and offered to cure me in exchange for food.  It was a good offer.  It was the best offer anyone ever made me.

You gave me back my legs, Dad. But more than that, you gave me back my name. Not Mercer Reed, your daughter.  To Dr. Ansel  Reed, the man who gave my wife her life back, and taught me what it means to be a husband. What happens now?  Now we live. We work. We eat dinner together every Thursday. And we remember Catherine.

 I remember her every day.  Good. Because she’s the reason we’re here. Now, eat your salmon, Dad. It’s getting cold. And I didn’t bring you here to eat leftovers.  You’re a lot like her.  Like Mom?  Stubborn, smart, beautiful, and completely incapable of taking no for an answer.  I learned from the best.

 She would have liked this.  She would have liked you.  She did. Once.  Then let’s make sure she likes what we’ve built. To Mom,    and to you, and to never being lost again.  To never being lost again.