THE MADHOUSE
A Play By: M. Keala Milles, Jr
First Draft: 08 January 2002 09:30
First Final Draft: 10 February 2002 11:31
PERSONS REPRESENTED
Mac
Tams
Emily
Sam
Dom
SETTING
The kitchen of a small house in the countryside. It is evening, and the play should progress in real time.
In Loving Dedication to:
My Athena Brighteyes,
without whom I would not have made it home;
My Diana,
without whom I could not sleep at night
My Rosaline,
without whom I could not write
My Athanasia
without whom I would know not of love,
nor dreams,
nor joy,
and without whom I would not know myself.
Too much sanity may be madness,
but the maddest of all:
To see life as it is
not as it should be.
—The Man of La Mancha
All that we see or seem
is but a dream within a dream
—Edgar Allen Poe, A Dream Within A Dream
Though this be madness,
yet there is method in it
—William Shakespeare, Hamlet
Death is just banishment mistermed…
…do not say banishment say death
For banishment hath more terror in his look
much more than death
—William Shakespeare, Romeo & Juliet
It still feels like the first time everytime…
I don’t know how you do what you do
I’m so in love with you
It just keeps getting better
…Every little thing that you do
…I’m amazed by you.
—Lonestar, Amazed
The Madhouse
In darkness, “Sour Times”, by Portishead. Lights up on a man, MAC, sitting at a small desk. He is writing and smoking a cigarette. A glass of water is next to him. On the floor, next to his stool is a small leather overnight bag. He writes, then stops to think, etc. Eventually, he looks into the bag, pulls out a small book, opens it and looks over the contents. There is a radio on. He checks his watch, and returns to his writing.
He is sitting in the center of a kitchen. Directly US of him, a sink. A counter stretches across the US wall, from a door, UR, to the sink, then continuing to a refrigerator, UL. Against the SR wall, a small table, upon which rests a radio and houseplant. Another door, leading to a hallway, SL. Also, it would appear that he has surrounded himself with discarded paper, which has fallen in such a way that it acts as almost a barrier, lessening the further away from him it becomes. As the play develops, he occasionally discards paper, increasing the bulk and size of this barrier.
A woman, TAMS, enters from the hallway, stops behind him to see what he’s writing. He doesn’t let her see the paper.
MAC: How many times do I have to tell you? No. I’m not ready to share it yet.
TAMS: Fine. I guess.
MAC: Can you open the window please?
TAMS: Is it hot in here?
MAC: No, I just like the breeze.
TAMS: Is it really that important…I mean, considering the circumstances, is it necessary…you don’t pay the utility bills, you know…at least not anymore.
MAC: I think I deserve, at least, to be comfortable.
TAMS: I guess that’s fair. (She goes to the window).
MAC: Thanks. Has Emily gone yet?
TAMS: What? No. I think she’s waiting for something.
MAC: What?
TAMS: I don’t know. Something….she said something to me yesterday. “It isn’t time.”
MAC: What is that supposed to mean?
TAMS: I don’t know. How would you like your eggs?
MAC: You making me breakfast?
TAMS: I just thought you might like something to eat…I was already going to make some….
MAC: Thank you. Over-medium.
TAMS: …but it’s not breakfast. I mean, I wouldn’t call it breakfast at (she checks the clock) six in the evening.
MAC: I thought it was morning.
TAMS: So it has begun.
EMILY enters from the hallway, crossing directly to TAMS.
EMILY: Is he still sitting there?
TAMS: Yeah…what’s the count?
EMILY: Which one?
TAMS: Him.
EMILY: Three days, seven hours, and five minutes. Exactly. Now.
TAMS: What about It?
EMILY: It?
TAMS: You know, (hidden) IT?
EMILY: Oh….(takes out a small book, similar to his from earlier) I have twenty-two.
TAMS: Right on schedule.
EMILY: Oh, no. Really?
TAMS: Yes. I mean it’s been three days, and he hasn’t slept. He doesn’t even know what time it is. I opened the window and he still didn’t know it was evening. I tried to talk to him….AH S**T! I burned the eggs.
MAC: What’s wrong?
TAMS: Nothing.
EMILY: She just burned the eggs.
MAC: When did you get here?
EMILY: Just now.
MAC: Any news?
EMILY: Nothing….yeah, nothing.
MAC: Thanks.
EMILY: Yeah, he’s….different.
TAMS: I know. It has begun.
EMILY: Really?
TAMS: (Nodding) Mmhm, yes. Twenty-two….just like I said, it has begun.
EMILY: Is he speaking more?
TAMS: A little. It comes and goes. As you can see…it’s not much. Still writing a lot though, I guess he’s just thinking about the words…
EMILY: Sounds tough.
TAMS: It is…you get used to it though. I’ve learned to interpret some of his behaviour so I know whether or not I should bother him. Generally I’m right.
EMILY: Interesting. So, I guess it has begun. Very well, in that case, I can go now. It is time. Take care of him. Don’t let him go anywhere.
TAMS: Of course not. Goodbye.
MAC: Goodbye Em.
EMILY: Goodbye (She kisses her, passionately, and exits).
MAC stops writing. Until now, he had been writing continuously, with very few pauses.
MAC: Why do you have to do that?
TAMS: What?
MAC: It’s hard enough you let her come around here.
TAMS: She helps us out.
MAC: No she doesn’t.
TAMS: You could be a little more friendly to our company.
MAC: She’s bad company.
TAMS: Why do you have to say that? I know you don’t like her, but can’t you trust me enough to…
MAC: I trust you.
TAMS: But you can’t trust her?
MAC: No, I trust her.
TAMS: That doesn’t make any sense.
MAC: I trust whatever it is that is important enough to take you away from me. Whatever it is that she said, or did, or knows must be incredibly important to you to leave me like that. I have to trust that it is. That’s why I trust her.
TAMS: Why do you have to be like that?
MAC: I think I have more right than anybody else…
TAMS: No, you don’t. Do you ever think of anyone but yourself?
MAC: (Finally looking at her) Yes. That’s why we’re here, isn’t it? (TAMS slinks back to the stove) I don’t want to be here any more than you, but it was your promise to me, remember? You wouldn’t leave my side.
TAMS: But I didn’t know you would make a grand spectacle of it. I mean everyone is talking about it.
MAC: There’s no one here but us.
TAMS: Fine, but if there were people around, then there would be talk.
MAC: Fine.
TAMS: Emily.
MAC: What?
TAMS: Emily comes.
MAC: What does that have to do with anything?
TAMS: Maybe she talks about it.
MAC: She would never do that to me.
TAMS: You really trust her, don’t you?
MAC: You do…(TAMS slinks back again). Besides, I don’t really have a choice.
TAMS: No, I guess you don’t.
There’s a knock at the front door.
TAMS: I guess I’ll get it. (She opens the door. Enter SAM.)
MAC: Thanks.
SAM: How’s he doin’?
MAC: Jesus Christ, how’d he find out?
SAM: Emily. She’s told everyone in town.
MAC: (Darting a look to TAMS) Jesus Christ!
SAM: I just came to see if it was really true.
TAMS: Well…yes, now you must leave. He needs to be at peace.
MAC: Can you turn that radio down?
TAMS: Oh, sorry. (She goes to the radio and turns the knob).
SAM: I wanted to tell you that I hope you find what you’re looking for.
TAMS: (Crossing back to the door) What?
SAM: Emily said you were on a spiritual journey, and in the mean time, you wouldn’t be leaving this kitchen.
TAMS: Yes, that’s it exactly. Spiritual journey.
SAM: So, I wanted to pay my respects and wish you luck…or something like that.
MAC: Thanks.
TAMS: Yes, thank you.
SAM: So I guess I’ll be going then. Goodbye.
TAMS: Oh, Sam, could you do me a favor? Would you mind stopping at the market for me? We need some eggs…and flour.
SAM: That shouldn’t be a problem. I’ll bring them by later.
TAMS: Thank you.
SAM: Goodbye. Goodbye Mac.
MAC: Goodbye.
TAMS: Goodbye. (She escorts him out and closes the door).
MAC: Now your brother?
TAMS: It could be worse.
MAC: I guess you’re right.
TAMS: How far along are you?
MAC: Almost done.
TAMS: God, I hope so.
MAC: What’s that supposed to mean? Are you in a hurry or something?
TAMS: No, but, strange as it is, I am a bit excited to see what you’ve come up with. And you have to admit it has gotten a little crazy around here once talk of this started.
MAC: Be that as it may, you’re still not going to see it till it’s all done.
TAMS: That’s fine.
MAC: And it’s not strange. I mean if you are in a hurry…it’s not strange. I’m not really in a hurry, but I still feel the anticipation…I mean, you’re right this is kind of a grand spectacle.
TAMS: I know, it’s just that you’ve been talking about this for…as long as I have known you…it’s one of the reasons I loved you.
MAC: What?
TAMS: No…your passion. Your desire. Your sense of things.
MAC: And now?
TAMS: Now what?
MAC: Things changed. You aren’t the same anymore. That’s kind of why I decided to do this, you know, after all this time, because it feels like you’re not really here most of the time. Or, I’m not here…anyway. It must have been about three months ago, now that I think of it, when I started writing again…
TAMS: I’ve been meaning to talk to you. I just couldn’t figure out how…exactly.
MAC: So, what, you were just going to let me sweat it and come up with my own conclusions?
TAMS: No, I wouldn’t do that to you…besides, I know you don’t jump to conclusions.
MAC: That’s right. (Continues writing).
There is a knock at the door.
TAMS: I’ll get that. Oh, hi… Dom, what a pleasant surprise! Look Mac, your brother’s here.
MAC: Tell him I don’t want to speak to him.
TAMS: Come on…he’s family.
MAC: We’re different people…I don’t get along with my family.
DOM: Did I come at a bad time?
TAMS: Don’t be ridiculous…anytime is a good time…
DOM: I’m glad to hear that, and I’m glad to see you again.
TAMS: Thank you, it’s good to see you too.
MAC: What are you doing here?
DOM: I heard about your quest…
MAC: Did you hear that Tams? First it’s a journey…now it is a quest!
TAMS: Stop it! Sorry Dom, he hasn’t slept in three and a half days.
DOM: Then I take it you haven’t slept much either.
TAMS: Of course not. I’m exhausted.
DOM: Why don’t you have a seat my dear? Let me take care of things for a little while. (He seats her next to MAC at the table).
TAMS: Thank you, I could use it. Thank you.
MAC: What do you want little brother?
DOM: Just to see my big brother.
MAC: Well take a good look because it’s your last.
DOM: What does that mean?
TAMS: He’s a little edgy…he hasn’t slept, the madness has finally set in…twenty two days, just like the doctor said, and…oh my you haven’t eaten have you…I burned the eggs earlier, and I never made anything else to eat.
DOM: It’s not your fault…just relax, I’ll make something to eat. (Opening the refrigerator). You’re out of eggs.
TAMS: I know, I sent Sam out to get some.
DOM: Oh, was he here?
TAMS: You just missed him actually.
DOM: That’s too bad.
TAMS: Well, he is coming back in a little while.
DOM: So how’s he doing?
TAMS: Sometimes he’s the most wonderful guy in the world and sometimes…
DOM: Yeah, that’s Mac. Haven’t changed one bit have you?
MAC: Oh, but I can see you have. How’s mother?
DOM: She’s fine. She misses you. You worried about her?
MAC: No, just curious. Surprised she hasn’t driven you crazy yet.
DOM: Sometimes…
TAMS: So what have you been up to, lately, Dom?
DOM: Nothing really, working on my second year of medical school.
MAC: Still want to be a shrink?
DOM: I don’t know, but I think I will stick with psychiatry.
MAC: I suppose that’s good. You always did think too much.
DOM: Well, I am the brains of the family.
MAC: Yeah, and Jules is the looks.
DOM: I’ll be sure to tell him you said that. He’ll get a kick out of it.
MAC: Just don’t let it get to his head…but I suppose if it did you could help him, right, I mean, you’re a head doctor after all, aren’t you?
Beat.
DOM: Well, I guess I better go…do you need anything, Tams?
TAMS: No, I think we’ll be fine for now…besides Sam should be back within the hour.
DOM: Well sorry I missed him. (To MAC) I miss you too you know. We all do.
Beat.
DOM: Right. Goodbye Tams.
TAMS: Goodbye, Dom.
MAC: Goodbye.
She escorts him out, same as the others.
TAMS: What was that all about?
MAC: (Still writing, now getting more frantic) You know I don’t get along with my family.
TAMS: Yes, I know, but you never told me why.
MAC: Do you really want to know?
TAMS: Yes, I do. Remember we said that we would try to get to know each other better before we could finish working this out…
MAC: But that almost seems pointless now.
TAMS: …see where things go…Are you going to tell me or not?
MAC: Fine. As you heard, Dom was always the brains, and Jules was the looks.
TAMS: And you were…jealous…(she finds this endearing)…that’s sweet.
MAC: Do you want me to tell the story?
TAMS: Sorry.
MAC: No, I wasn’t jealous…but I was the…artist.
TAMS: That makes sense.
MAC: I was the writer, the dreamer…I guess you could say, I was the heart…but it was never enough for anyone. No matter how hard I tried, I could never do anything that pleased any of them. I am different from all of them. I feel like a stranger in that house. My mother never understood that I was happy…I am happy, being who I am, doing what I’m doing, with the people I am with right now… I don’t need the life she thinks I need.
TAMS: That’s fine then.
MAC: Not for them. I need more for them…which doesn’t make any sense…er, they need more from me, or something like that. I’m better off without them.
TAMS: Well, families are a strange thing. I don’t always get along with mine…but they still love you, and I think that’s more important. I think love is always the most important thing.
MAC: I agree. That was one of the things, though…wasn’t it…about us?
TAMS: What about us?
MAC: Was love important for us?
TAMS: I think so.
MAC: So what happened?
TAMS: You know what I think it was? It really has nothing to do with love. It was when you called while I was visiting my aunt just to tell me you missed me. I realized that I didn’t miss you—I wanted to, and it was just…this strange emptiness where you used to be…Not like I wanted you to go, just that suddenly it wasn’t important anymore. Don’t get me wrong, you are important, but it was like all of a sudden it didn’t matter. That scared the hell out of me.
MAC: I thought you were going to say you met somebody else, which is fine too, I guess, I mean that’s why we never…
TAMS: Yeah…But that’s not the reason.
MAC: Well, then, do you still love me?
TAMS: I don’t know.
MAC: See, that scares the hell out of me. Why are you here, then?
TAMS: I don’t know.
MAC: That was about four months ago.
TAMS: I know.
MAC: Well, I guess that explains it, then. If I slept, I could rest easier. (TAMS laughs). Can I have something to drink, please?
TAMS: (Getting a glass of water) You know, you could get out of that seat and take care of yourself.
MAC: What’s the sense in that? I might as well enjoy myself, for what it’s worth, with all these people who want to help me on this journey or whatever the hell they want to call it….Oh! That’s it! (Returns to his writing, frantic, throwing papers on the floor, scratching things out, organizing, etc. TAMS watches, fascinated at his commitment and passion). “This is a journey…”
TAMS: It won’t be the same…but it still feels exactly the same…it still feels like the first time, every time.
MAC: What?
TAMS: I’m amazed by you. Watching you…every time feels like the first time. I remember it…it feels exactly the same when I see how involved you get in your work. I’m amazed by you.
MAC: Why?
TAMS: After everything that’s happened, with us, you still love me.
MAC: I can’t just stop loving you.
TAMS: I know, but…I did.
MAC: We’re different people.
TAMS: I know, but…
MAC: (Stops writing to speak to her, almost robotic—expressionless, stoic—but not entirely removed from the moment, simply just moved, slightly). You still don’t understand, do you? I love you the way I’ve always wanted to love. Everyone that came before you was wrong and now I know why….because they weren’t you. Everything that was wrong with everyone else was wrong because I was looking for you. Love, for me, is more than just a feeling I have about….you…or my family. I live for it. (Writes it down)… “Live to love…” I have been searching for you my entire life, and now, I’ve finally found you and…
TAMS: Finally…? You’re twenty-three years old, finally doesn’t exist yet. You make it seem as though you are at the end of your life—as though this were your final wish…
MAC: I am at the end of my life. My entire life, I have dedicated to finding you. My soul has been searching the limits of time and space for you. I have found you now. Here. If I lose you, then I lose everything….you are my whole life.
TAMS: How can you say that? There is so much more to you than just loving me. I don’t know anyone who can write the way you do. Sing. Think. Cook. Laugh. The way you treat me. You aren’t just a person who loves me. You are a person who loves. I have never known anyone so filled with love the way you are. I couldn’t find another man who loves me like you do, but it would be selfish of me to take it all…
MAC: I knew you were going to say that. Look, there’s nothing you can say that’s going to change my mind, okay? It’s fine. Didn’t I tell you it’s fine? You don’t need me right now, and I understand that. That’s fine. It’s not going to matter pretty soon anyway. (Returns to his writing). “A person who loves…”
TAMS: I can’t help but feel that you’re abandoning me…
MAC: I’m abandoning you? You left me…remember? You basically banished me from your life.
TAMS: Oh, come now, don’t exaggerate.
MAC: Abandonment is just banishment mistermed.
TAMS: I know, but…still…
MAC: That doesn’t matter, anyway. You’re not changing my mind.
TAMS: I’m not trying to…(there’s a knock at the door). I’ll get it. (Aside) I don’t know how much more of this I can take. Oh, welcome back Sam. (SAM enters, soaking wet from the rain, carrying a bag groceries. He proceeds to set the groceries on the counter next to the refrigerator, removing the eggs first and placing them by the stove. TAMS crosses to the stove to prepare the eggs).
SAM: Thanks. (Removes his hat and coat then sits at the table). Don’t go out there, it’s horrible.
MAC: (Before TAMS can say it) Oh, she loves this weather…she used go running in it all the time…but that was before…
TAMS: Stop it…he’s right though, I love the rain.
MAC: It’s the only reason why I’ve been here for this long. She makes it tolerable.
SAM: Well, I never could stand it. I hate being in the rain.
TAMS: Thank you, though.
SAM: Oh, it’s my pleasure. Anything for my sister and my future brother-in-law.
MAC: You didn’t tell him, either?
SAM: Tell me what? Oh, no…never mind, don’t tell me…
MAC: Brother-in-law…?
TAMS: I mentioned to him, a while ago that we had discussed our future, and the marriage was a possibility.
MAC: Was.
SAM: Sorry to hear that.
MAC: So was I. Must have been more than three months ago, then the last time you talked to Sam.
TAMS: That’s not fair.
SAM: What’s that about?
MAC: Yeah, apparently your sister has had doubts for a while now…you mean, you didn’t know about it?
SAM: First I heard.
MAC: Well, what do you have to say about that?
TAMS: I was confused…I’m still confused. Do you want me to leave?
MAC: Actually, you know what, why don’t you go out. Get some air. Might do you some good. Go run in the rain…find Emily. I’m almost done anyway, everyone should be here, I guess, when I’m finished.
TAMS: Okay, then. Goodbye.
SAM: Goodbye.
MAC: Goodbye, Tams.
Beat. She exits.
SAM: So how you doin’?
MAC: Why?
SAM: We never talked.
MAC: You’re her big brother.
SAM: Exactly.
MAC: So?
SAM: I think I should be involved with certain things in her life.
MAC: Meaning?
SAM: Meaning you.
MAC: What about me?
SAM: She loves you.
MAC: She loved me.
SAM: What?
MAC: She doesn’t know anymore.
SAM: Wow.
MAC: Yeah. (Goes back to writing).
SAM: Well, she…when she did…she was in love with you…I thought this was it. She finally found the one who could settle her down. She was a crazy girl you know?
MAC: What?
SAM: In her adolescent years…a real tyrant. She never got into any serious trouble, but she had a wild side…I haven’t seen that in a while…till recently. I just figured she was looking for a change.
MAC: I thought it was me.
SAM: No, it wasn’t you…we could all see it.
MAC: No, I thought I was the change.
SAM: Oh.
MAC: (Still robotic, in a trance) I thought, I was…the change…but I…I guess it turns out I was the one who changed. She came into my life…and…that was it. I knew…I loved her…and that was it. I always thought love was going to be some incredible and ornate overwhelming, but it was so simple. At that moment I knew…I loved her. I didn’t even know her, but I knew…love was simple…almost a synechdoche…
SAM: A what? Sin-eck…what?
MAC: Synechdoche? It’s a literary term…when a part represents the whole or vice versa. In this case it would be the former…
SAM: What?
MAC: Microcosm?
SAM: Micro-what?
MAC: When a small tale within a story represents the entire story…a dream within a dream…Edgar Allen Poe
SAM: Oh, “the Raven.”
MAC: That’s all anyone ever knows…James Joyce’s “A Portrait of the Artist As a Young Man”…microcosm; every chapter in and of itself is a story within the whole…
SAM: Sorry.
MAC: It’s not your fault…at least you tried. Thanks.
SAM: You are…honestly…the brightest guy I know. I hate to say it, but you might be smarter than me…
MAC: Obviously not smart enough though…I haven’t figured out a way to hold on to the things that matter most to me….
SAM: Smart enough to recognize them when you have a hold on them at all…
Beat. VOICES from outside as the door opens. Enter TAMS and EMILY. They are huddled under one umbrella, but the rain has stopped. TAMS stops in the door and listens to the end of their conversation. EMILY is trying to push her way in, both excited and cold.
MAC: I guess you’re right…I never thought about it like that…so simple.
SAM: Sometimes it helps to stop thinking for yourself…and think about other people.
MAC: What are you saying, now, that I’m conceited?
SAM: No…I’m saying don’t get caught up in the conceit.
Beat. MAC looks at SAM, finally satisfied with a conversation. This is when he notices the ladies standing in the doorway. EMILY pushes her way through.
EMILY: It’s about bloody time.
TAMS: You’re so insensitive.
EMILY: No, it’s cold out here.
TAMS: Either way.
Cold silence. The only sound to break it is the incessant scratching of a pencil and paper. The ladies file in, as quiet as possible, watching with intensity as MAC transforms from the robotic speaker he just was into a fragile, tired, and broken human being. He writes for a beat as they watch. He mumbles. He throws things. He stops and starts. It is almost ritualistic…there is a rhythm to his movements and the sounds… Finally, he stops and they stare. DOM enters to break the moment.
DOM: I’m back.
Beat. No one address DOM. EMILY and TAMS are caught in their spat. MAC is impressed with his connection with SAM.
EMILY: It’s not my fault.
TAMS: I never said it was your fault. It’s nobody’s fault. It’s just that…
EMILY: What?
TAMS: I can’t stand it anymore. SAM: Are you ready?
EMILY: What are you talking MAC: I don’t know anymore.
about?
TAMS: Your attitude…do you SAM: Then why go on?
always have to be so negative. MAC: Because that’s the
EMILY: That’s just how I am whole point.
Tams. Things just are the way they are. I DOM: What happened here?
was born this way. I can’t change that.
Look at Mac over there. He’s doing what MAC: I guess there really
he’s doing because he can’t change his life. is no turning back now.
He is serving his purpose right now. SAM: Having second thoughts?
Sometimes things just are the way they are, MAC: No. I don’t think
and there’s nothing you can do about it. twice
TAMS: Hi, Dom.
DOM: What happened here?
TAMS: What do you mean?
DOM: It’s madness… SAM: You ready then?
TAMS: Well, he has finally settled
into his sickness. It is time after all. MAC: I was born ready.
DOM: After what? Sickness?
What are you talking about?
TAMS: His madness…twenty-
two days, just like the doctor said.
EMILY: Must I stay? I would rather not see this.
TAMS: Do you always think about yourself?
EMILY: I don’t have anyone else I need to think about…
TAMS: Amazing…
DOM: This is a madhouse.
TAMS: I don’t know how I have been able to tolerate you for so long.
EMILY: What’s that supposed to mean?
MAC: It’s time.
TAMS: Do you care about him at all?
EMILY: Does it matter now?
SAM: Maybe you should go. DOM: Who is she?
MAC: Nobody. She’s nobody important.
DOM: Are you okay? Mac…are you okay…?
MAC: I’m fine.
TAMS: I can’t believe you sometimes.
EMILY: You never could….
MAC: Can you get her out of here?
TAMS: She doesn’t want to leave.
MAC: I want her to leave…it’s my last request.
SAM: No…
MAC: My dying request. Get her out of here.
TAMS: I don’t want her to leave.
Beat.
MAC: If it wasn’t for her…none of you would be here. I wouldn’t be here, in this chair. At this table.
TAMS: Exactly. You wouldn’t be doing this if it wasn’t for her. You should be grateful.
MAC: You think I want to be here? Do you think I like this? I don’t want this. I have never wanted this.
TAMS: But I thought…
MAC: Well, you were wrong. How does it feel to be wrong, Tams? Just because I imagined some elaborate ending to this dramatic tale doesn’t mean I wanted this. I didn’t want this. I never wanted this.
TAMS: I’m sorry. I guess I always thought this was how it was going to be.
MAC: So you were counting on this?
TAMS: No. I just thought….it always seemed to me that it would end up this way.
MAC: Things don’t always end up the way we think they will. Sometimes things just are the way they are and there’s nothing you can do about it.
TAMS: Seems to be a common theme today.
MAC: What?
TAMS: Emily just said that.
MAC: She got that from me. You think she came up with that on her own. Let me tell you something…I’ve known this the entire time, but didn’t want to tell you because I was afraid it would ruin you, and us, but I guess none of that matters anymore. You love Emily because she is me.
TAMS: What?
MAC: Everything you love about her…are the same things you used to love about me. The way she takes care of you. The things she says. The way she speaks. Do you think she is capable of that on her own. Of course not. She learned all that from me.
TAMS: How can you say that? Huh. I can’t believe you would do that to her, after all she has done for us. For you.
MAC: For me? She stole from me the greatest moments of my life.
EMILY: Which moments.
MAC: Those…in…her…eyes.
SAM: Insanity may be madness… DOM: He’s gone.
TAMS: Why do you always say these things? They make me feel…
MAC: What….something? Anything?
EMILY: That’s not fair.
MAC: No, what isn’t fair is what I have to sacrifice so everyone else can be happy. I’m the one sitting in this chair, sorting out reasons to live, and so far I’ve only found one.
DOM: What is it? TAMS: Sacrifice?
MAC: You’ll know soon enough. EMILY: What sacrifice?
SAM: …but the maddest of all…
MAC: I’m just about done.
TAMS: You keep saying that.
MAC: You in a hurry?
EMILY: Yes.
Beat.
SAM: …to see life as it is…
DOM: What has happened to you?
MAC: I’ve just realized what life is all about, and that I have lived just enough to realize it. (He reaches into the overnight bag and pulls out a vial of black liquid. Without hesitation he drinks it and sits in silence).
SAM: …not as it should be.
DOM: What is that all about?
SAM: Something your brother taught me.
TAMS: What’s that?
SAM: Sometimes things just are the way they are, and there’s nothing you can do about it. We can dream and think and try to find another way, but in the end, it doesn’t really matter. I’ve only really spoken to your brother a couple times, and now, I think, I am finally starting to realize what all his mumblings and rhetoric was all about. Dom, he’s been like this his entire life, hasn’t he? Always spouting quotations and citing passages and rambling almost incoherently. (DOM is nodding). It isn’t madness that is his sickness…but the sickness has made him mad.
EMILY: Why do you say that? We’ve all
seen him. Especially the two of us. We have
watched him transform from what you may have
known him as, into this fragile and
vague…pathetic…whatever. You haven’t been
here the past few days, during the final
stages of it…
TAMS: Emily… DOM: Does everyone here
SAM: Tams, you never listened to talk like this? This is a
him.. He was trying to tell you…I get it madhouse.
now. He just didn’t know any other way to TAMS: Emily…
love you but his own. It wasn’t right, what he
did. How he loved you. You don’t want to be
loved that way. That much. That was what he
didn’t understand. That’s why he’s doing this.
TAMS: (Getting everyone’s attention,
however possible; speaking loudly) That’s why he did it.
EMILY: What?
TAMS: He’s dead.
SAM: And as swiftly as it had come, it has now gone.
DOM: This cannot be happening. I’ve gotta leave this place. Now. (He trudges slowly to the front door).
TAMS: Don’t you want to say your goodbyes?
DOM: I only have one goodbye, and it is for you. I refuse to say goodbye to him. Not like this. Selfish b*****d. He didn’t even say goodbye.
TAMS: Well at least stay and see what he came up with. Maybe his goodbyes are in this.
DOM: Why? It’s pointless.
SAM: (Picking up the papers around MAC) No. It’s the whole point. We wouldn’t be here if he wasn’t finished. We deserve this, and so does he.
DOM: (Frozen) Whatever. I guess it couldn’t hurt. I still don’t understand.
EMILY: Let’s just get this over with.
Beat. TAMS is now infuriated with EMILY and refuses to acknowledge her. She has fixed her gaze on SAM as he begins reading.
SAM: I think this is the order…(Aside, and proud of the association) the method….to his madness.
“It’s strange, in this abandonment I remain confident in my sense of truth, yet unsure that truth actually exists. I am alone again; in an instant, all is gone. I am deserted. I am forsaken. It is as though I have perished, and from the atmosphere, observe the world move on without me.
“My world has broken, my time has ended, and I witness reality standing still. It’s different than before. It is as though I am on the outside, looking in on a world that has always been without me; an entire human race that never needed my existence; a complete existence independent of my thought; I look at a world without love.
“Suddenly I am incredibly aware of my obtuse obscurity, and the frightening truth that no one knows the real me—I am afraid because I don’t even know myself anymore. I think I have become some disenchanted version of my younger self; only aged in spirit, but not in thought; I find myself lost in the luster of the limits of my imagination—as though a child who is never changed by the world.
“Sometimes I wish I could de-evolve, re-evolve and lose this name of action. I want to lose my intelligence and be a criminal of the mind—steal the thoughts of the brilliant and the fears of the paranoid and the dreams of all the children who have never really known joy.
“I could experience life through the eyes of the world; look at life from the extreme outside and realize how incredibly insignificant I really am; see the world evolving, moving forward while I step back into the comfort of Nothing.
“I could hear the voices of the tormented mixed with the wrongfully imprisoned where my soul lies, helplessly shackled to Darkness; the strange and horrific crying through the laughter and the singing; there is always singing. In the void of joy and substance, there is still music. Always singing…the sound of a voice lost and abandoned, and I hear it and filter it through the endless noise of contemporary expression. It gives me hope and passion. I have something to search for, some mystery to solve. And I swim in the sea of the Unnecessary, and I crawl through the desert of Despair, and tiptoe through the garden of Heartache—careful not to disturb the weeds. And the journey is long and hard—a sort of microcosm of all I have done thus far. And I reach my destination and I discover the origin of the mysterious voice…it is my own—a lowly echo only returned in the empty canyon of my broken heart.
“And I awake. It was all a dream. Life is but a dream. Nothing comes to sleepers but a dream, so I should not be surprised. Is all that we see or seem but a dream within a dream? Or are dreams children of an idle brain, begat of nothing but vain fantasy—which is as thin a substance as the wind and more inconstant than the sea?
“Dreams are the desires of the soul, which is ageless and experienced. It is the soul that knows this truth…my mind misgives some consequence yet hanging in the stars… this truth, that even today I am not alone…just lonely in my quest to find myself.
“After love…the greatest thing in all the world…through the countless years of travel and people and places…the most beautiful thing in life is just to know you’re alive…to know you have a place and importance…that after all is said and done…it is life that we live for…we live to breathe…to think…to eat…to sleep (perchance to dream)…to dream…to sing…to dance…to play…to know joy…to know sorrow…to know we can do anything…be anything…have anything…and love anything…but most of all…to love. To just be a person who loves. We live to love. At least I do, and although it is the one less traveled by, it has made all the difference.
“It’s all starting to make sense now…after all this time…I think I might be starting to realize where I was going; what I was looking for…I thought it was love…but it wasn’t just love…I wasn’t looking just for love, but for why we love…and now I know, it is the essence of life. We love…to live.”
Beat. Silence. EMILY storms out. DOM follows, more confused than before. SAM stands in amazement and pride, slowly coming to his own conclusions and outwardly showing his content. He continues to stand till the lights fall, never looking back at MAC, but gripping the pages as though they were his life-blood. TAMS turns to the body in the chair and puts her arms around him. She kisses him on the forehead.
TAMS: Take this kiss upon the brow/And in parting from you now/Thus much let me avow….(Beat)…I love you. And I hate you for it. Goodbye Mac. (She picks him up and carries him outside as the lights fall—and Chris Cornell’s “Wave Goodbye” begins).
Blackout.
CURTAIN
SUGGESTED READING
1. Edgar Allen Poe: A Dream Within A Dream
2. James Joyce: A Portrait of the Artist As A Young Man
3. William Shakespeare: Hamlet
4. William Shakespeare: Romeo and Juliet
5. Robert Frost: The Road Less Traveled
6. Sam Shepard: Action
7. M. Keala Milles, Jr.: A Journal
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