Characters:
Shadow
Man
Woman
Setting:
A bare stage. Two old wooden chairs. Dust on the stage, on the chairs. Dim lights. No props. Just the chairs and dust. Silence.
STAGE LEFT. A man walks into the background. Because the lights are dim and are focused center stage his features are not seen. He is SHADOW.
SHADOW
How is silence defined? By minutes, by
absence, by uncomfortableness…
STAGE RIGHT. A young man stumbles center stage, into the light. He falls, looks about wildly, then slowly stands.
SHADOW
By not being silence defined? White rush.
MAN cannot hear SHADOW. IN THE AUDIENCE. WOMAN stands, looks around her, dazed. She also cannot hear SHADOW.
WOMAN
What is this place? Excuse me! Hey, is this a
play?
MAN
(dusting himself off, pauses, looks at WOMAN)
No. (bends and wipes dust off his legs) No, I’m
sorry it’s not….(The young man straightens up and
examines the stage. He then walks a small circle,
remaining in the circle of spotlight). You’d figure
after a lifetime there would be more than a bare
stage…Is this all that I’ve amounted to?
WOMAN
Excuse me, what are you talking about?
SHADOW
An unbearable weight of freedom rests upon
shoulders unsculpted and feeling whole or should
I?
MAN
I’m talking about this (raises his arms and turns
slowly around, moving clockwise from center to left
center, back left, until back to center) I’m talking
about us. About the emptiness of the stage.
WOMAN
(leaning forward, as if she was trying to hear better)
Is this some sort of joke? What kind of play is this?
Where’s the setting? Where’s the orchestra or, or the
playbill booklet they give you?
MAN
(arms crossed in front of him)Program books are not
given to the actors. They’re supposed to already know
the story…(he points to her) You’re an actress…
You are the woman in the audience who doesn’t know
where she is and why, and wants no part of the stage.
You’re the woman whose image has haunted his mind and
never became real. You’re the one who he has been
writing all this time for…
SHADOW
Is the cheek intentional or implied by the shadow
of noise? There are puzzles and nuances that trace
your lips, but I haze.
WOMAN
(hands up in front, palms out, in a ‘slow down’
gesture, shaking her head) Look, I’m just lost, okay?
Where’s the exit?
MAN
(head tilted) Do you really think you can escape a
writer’s last living thought? Especially when it’s the
one that defines you and gives you life?
WOMAN
I’m supposed to go.(makes her way down the row, towards
the right aisle) There must be things I have to do
besides listen to this.
MAN
(walks to center right, matching her pace) You
have no place ‘to’ go. You’re already here.
WOMAN
What? (stops, confused then closes eyes abruptly shakes
her head), no…(slowly, eyes closed) I WILL get out of
here. I WILL walk out of this place and find where I AM
and go HOME and FORGET all this nonsense about dying
HEMMINGWAYS. (opens her eyes and looks in either
direction more frantically)
MAN
(kneels down, resting his arms on his knees, touching
the floor fondly, as if it will be missed) You will not
find an exit. (looks up at WOMAN, sadly) The only exit
for us will be the fall of these curtains and the
lights going out and the fade to black. After that
there will be no more stage, no more chairs, no more
anything. The writer will be dead and that will end it
before–
SHADOW
(expectantly) Unheard cues of bare…
Why is the world spinning? A jazz player that knows
this: Seeking, pausing, giving, tempo, rhythm my bones
to have felt a stillness.
The MAN does not speak but covers his face with his hand as the WOMAN freezes, peering at MAN.
WOMAN
(approaching closer to the stage, down the right
aisle) Before what? (louder and closer) I’m talking to
you, before what?!
SHADOW
(hurried rasp) Speeding cacophony of trumpets
sputtering debris and stutter stoplights shimmer
but a final grasping.
WOMAN
(stopping suddenly as if hit in the chest and doubling
over, clearly in pain) UGH-shit!-uuggh…
Three of the stage lights that are focused center shut off.
WOMAN
(whispering, just getting back her breath, terrified)
what…what just happened?
MAN
His heart just stopped…Look, (points) one of
the bulb have blown out…(stands, rubs his head,
frustrated, with both hands) I don’t care for roles
anymore. I feel so apart from him but I can’t live on
my own. (shaking his head, sighing, hands to his face)
He’s dying and I’ve accomplished nothing.(Pulls his
hands away from his eyes, looking at her, pauses,
then drops his hands from his whole face) You’re still
not on stage. You’re still apart but refusing his
existence in the moments that his life, our existence
means the most.
WOMAN
(tense, afraid) I don’t understand…I’m sorry,
I just don’t.
SHADOW
What of this, place this time, how? Do we remain
changed of, of myself…
WOMAN
(hugging herself) I won’t take part in something that
I’m not ready for. I know this much about myself and
who I want to be…(defiantly now) Can’t I have that
much? I don’t care if I’m some old man’s wet fantasy or
not. I don’t care. (places her hand in front of her at
waist level, palms down almost touching each other and
spreads them apart in a straight line away from each
other quickly, similar to umpire calling safe) I’m apart
and (pointing to teaser) when those curtains that you’re
so hung up about drop, it will please me to be where I am.
MAN
(hands out, bent at elbows in a pleading gesture)
Shouldn’t the cause of us be granted his final wish?
WOMAN
(pointing to the floor) And what if this is his wish?
What if this is what he wants? To have us apart,
or have parts be apart from himself when he dies?
SHADOW
The what and when of the stage is significant.
Most of the lights snap off, leaving only four, three of which are dimming. SHADOW slowly steps forward but still cannot be clearly seen. At that moment, the MAN snaps his head up and closes his eyes, as if he is concentrating.
MAN
(as if seized) You do not understand. We ARE parts that
ARE apart of. We live IN not THROUGH him. WE are
voices always speaking and laughing and crying and above all,
are heard. He has inspired us in sentences and phrases. He has
gone out to touch us through the writing. He deserves for us
to leave with him. HERE, on this stage… (SHADOW steps back,
MAN bows his head, opens his eyes, pauses) Without him, we
would have never known the sound of our voices.
WOMAN
(clearly moved, arms tight around herself, starts to
speak but hesitates)…I, I don’t want to die.
MAN
We are not dying. He is and there’s no time left.
The one light that has remained starts to fade. The WOMAN stands, tense, unsure, facing the stage. The MAN remains on stage, facing her. The curtains fall, gliding down slowly. WOMAN does not move but it seems as if she might at any moment. MAN’s arms drop to his sides, having given up, and starts to walk in a counter-clockwise circle on the stage, hands in his pockets, looking upward. The curtains have fallen halfway and still descending. There is very little light left.
Pause. No one moves. MAN collapses, slumping onto the floor at front right.
WOMAN begins to silently cry, turns head away.
Pause. Curtains are three quarters down.
SHADOW falls.
Black.