You will get sick. It happens. You do not know why. Often you do not want to tell anyone you are sick. Perhaps you might even pay someone to talk to you about your illness. Yet after all that, you still might die. And you are not alone. Rabbi Harold S. Kushner wrote about “When Bad Things Happen to Good People” to address the nefarious nature of incurable illness. Others have addressed this phenomenon as well. And now Noah Diaz takes a stab at the conundrum in his play “You Will Get Sick” currently playing at Roundabout Theatre Company’s Laura Pels Theatre.

The conundrum is universal, so it comes as no surprise that the playwright’s five characters are nameless and identified only by the numerals #1, #2, #3, #4, and #5. Number Five (Dario Adani Sanchez) is heard offstage but not seen until the final scene of the play. More about that later. Or maybe not. It might require a spoiler alert. Number One (Daniel K. Isaac) is sick but does not want to tell anyone about it, not his sister (Number Three/Miranda Anderson), not his ex-boyfriend (Number Four/Nate Miller), not his employer. So, he designs a flyer with one of those rows of tear-off tabs at the bottom with his phone number. He offers to pay Twenty dollars (the original forty-dollar offer is felt-tipped-marker obliterated). Number Two (a dedicated and flawless Linda Lavin) sees his flyer on a telephone pole and decides to call Number One.

Number Two attends a Community College and self-describes as an actor. We will discover over time she is saving up for an important purchase, so this gig with Number One is perfect. These are the protagonist and antagonist, and their unique conflicts drive the rest of the plot in “You Will Get Sick.” Numbers One and Two develop a symbiotic quid-pro-quo relationship. Two calls One, visits One, provides needed surcease from pain and is rewarded handsomely by her Number One.

Not much else happens in “You Will Get Sick.” There is the sister, the friend, the hawker selling insurance against large birds, the waiter, the big bird, and so on. There is the allusion to “The Wizard of Oz;” however, there is no need to stress over the magical realism of big birds, straw emanating from Number One’s mouth, sleeves, and pant legs. Nor is it necessary to understand why Number Two chooses to sing “Somewhere Over the Rainbow” at all her auditions. Spoiler alert: Number Two is saving for a Dorothy costume to wear at her auditions.

But there is no reason for the reader to cover their ears and eyes. The allusion is not developed enough to clarify Noah Diaz’s pretentious narrative, despite the creative team’s impressive efforts to augment the script. Even Skyler Fox’s well-crafted illusions cannot save the day for this production. Nor can the honest performances by the cast. Under Sam Pinkleton’s heroic direction, Linda Lavin and Daniel K. Isaac do their best to bring “Dorothy” home and the “Strawman” to a level of cognition. Kudos to the entire cast for their professional commitment to this failed attempt to parse the vicissitudes of terminal illness. Those navigating that terrain and those who “hear” them deserve a better exposition.

Number Five’s appearance in “heaven” as Number One’s brother (he was the off-stage voice) in the wheat fields of One’s Midwest home provides neither pathos nor ethos. It is a too-late attempt to rescue “You Will Get Sick.”