end of 2.5 start 2.6 day 25

Gil enters obviously already drunk

Gil: Rum and Coke, light on the Coke, maybe skip the Coke.

Steve: Umbrella?

Gil: Cute.

Steve: Rum and Coke, or just rum?

Gil: Grog, maybe that's what I need.

Steve: Isn't that mainly water and molasses?

Gil: Like Coke right?

Steve: I guess. Rum and Coke it is. (Gil sits staring off into space and does not notice Jeanette, who has returned to her iPod isolation.)

Steve returns

Steve: Here you go. So, what's up? Or down from the looks of you.

Gil: I've sat in my studio for 24 hours and produced shit. No, producing shit would mean I'd done something; I've done nothing.

Steve: Yesterday you said you were going all out.

Gil: Yesterday I was. Came here to celebrate. Fought with Marie and that was that.

Steve: So, oiling the gears?

Gil: Drowning. Literally if I can manage it.

Steve: Got it. (Anne and Matt enter as does Jacob separately) Look I've got customers, but I'll be back. In the meantime, if fighting with Marie is what did you in, maybe you ought to try making up.

Gil: Bring another when you come.

Steve nods.. Gil downs the drink looks around, everyone is busy. He tosses obviously too much money on the table and leaves. The bar continues to function for a few minutes and then Steve looks over, crosses to table, picks up money and looks around. He pulls out cell phone and dials.

Steve: Marie? Listen Gil just came in bought a Rum and Coke and must've drunk it in one gulp when my back was turned and he's gone and left like 50 euro to pay for it. He said he hasn't been working—just sitting there. I'm worried. Call when you get this.

Monsieur: Steve.

Steve (crossing to him): Oui Monsieur?

Monsieur: What has happened?

Steve: Gil, Monsieur, I am afraid he is … suicidal. He came in clamoring for rum, then gulped it down and left 50 euro to cover it. It must have been all the money he had.

Monsieur: But why do you think suicide?

Steve: We all thought he'd been painting non-stop for the last two days, but apparently he's been in his studio, but doing nothing—that's why he wanted rum, he said. (Monsieur nods) Do you think I should call the police? (Monsieur flinches)

Monsieur: Non . . . eh bien. Do you think it necessary? (Marie arrives)

Steve: Oh, good, did you get my message?

Marie: What? No, I've had my phone off I was . . taking a test. (she is pulling out her phone and checking messages)

Steve: A test? For Gil? But Gil was here. (She is getting the “you have messages” and hits “1”)

Marie: What? Not for him . . . for me. What was the message? (Steve starts to speak and she waves him off and listens, we watch her reaction). How long ago? Have you done anything?

Steve: Fifteen minutes at most. No, we were just trying to decide what if anything....

Marie: I'll go back and check his place

Steve: Why don't you go to yours—isn't that where he'd go next? I can check his place (he looks at Monsieur for permission, who nods).

Marie: Ok. I'll call you from my place.

(Lights fade out come back up)

Scene 6

(Marie and Steve at a table)

Steve: Do you want to report this to the police?

Marie: To the police? You want to make him a criminal?

Steve: No, I want to find him. Being missing isn't a crime.

Marie: Suicide is. They aren't going to take us seriously unless we make it sound serious.

Steve: Surely, they'd understand with the cancer....

Marie: Steve, the French may not put much faith in God, the majority may not even believe, but we are a Catholic country and suicides still get buried in unhallowed ground.

Steve: He's not dead, he's missing.

Marie: For the wrong reasons. If they find him for these reasons, he'll be in a hospital—for his mind not his cancer.

Steve: Oh, come on.

Marie: It gets better, I wouldn't be able to see him as I'm not his wife, just his whore.

Steve: What? You're his girlfriend, surely even Catholic France permits girlfriends.

Marie: I'm pregnant Steve. That “test” I was taking....

Steve: (pauses, smiles) Congratulations.

Marie: Thanks. (shakes her head) Oh, fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck (glances up) Pardon Monsieur. (Monsieur waves it off).

Jacob and Gil enter

Marie: Gil!

Jacob (to Gil): Is this the one? (Gil nods)

Marie: Oh Gil, where have you been?

Jacob: He's been getting help (said with an edge for the rest of those present).

Marie: Help? Why didn't you come to me?

Jacob: You are part of what he needed help with.

Marie: Gil, I'm talking to you.

Gil: I don't know Marie. Everything just got confused.

Marie: I understand.

Jacob: Gil was adrift and needed an anchor.

Marie: Pardon. We have not met. May I ask who you are?

Jacob: I am the Reverend Jacob, I was holding a healing meeting this evening when your friend stumbled in—very much in need of healing I might add.

Marie: Healing?

Jacob: I am in the service of the Lord and those who seek is help are healed.

Marie: What, what...denomination are you?

Jacob: The Lord does not have denominations.

Marie: Oh, one of those.

Jacob: (somewhat arrested) What? One of what?

Marie: I know where my church is monsieur. Where is yours?

Jacob: Mine is anywhere I'm needed. God does not require a church.

Marie: No, I'm sure you are all he needs—or rather you are all you need.

Marie: Gil, how much money did you give him to be healed?

Jacob: He has given me no money.

Marie: Monsieur. Thank you for your assistance, but up until the last few minutes my boyfriend has never had any trouble speaking for himself. Did you heal him by stealing his tongue?

Gil: Marie. Chill. He hasn't done anything terrible. At all. He's been really nice and listened.

Marie: I haven't?

Gil: I didn't say that, but if you recall, the last time we saw one another I left—unhappy.

Marie: And I've been trying to get ahold of you all day. Did you listen to any of my messages Gil. Any?

Gil: No.

Jacob: Sometimes

Marie: Monsieur if you interrupt this conversation one more time

Gil: Marie, he's just trying to

Marie: You prefer his help? Go for it. (she exits)

Gil: Marie!

Jacob: There will be time. Let her go for now. You said you lost your money here?

Gil: Steve.

Steve: Gil.

Gil: Listen when I left I paid for my drink but I think I must have paid too much.

Steve (glances at Jacob and at Monsieur): You left 5 euro, more tip than usual. You want the change?

Gil: Five! It was like 50!

Steve: Gil, you were pretty lit when you were here, maybe you dropped it on the way over or after you left.

Gil: Seriously? Shit. Well, I'd better see if I get lucky and find it on the way back to my place.

Jacob: Are you sure? I would have sworn....

Monsieur: Sworn what monsieur?

Jacob: I was in earlier and I thought he put down too much too.

Gil: You were here?

Jacob: Yes, of course I did not know you then....and (looks around) perhaps I'm mis-remembering.

Steve: You were watching other customers pay?

Jacob: Please, when Gil told me he lost his money, it triggered the memory.

Gil: Let it go everyone. I must have dropped it.

Steve: Gil have you eaten?

Gil: I just told you I've lost my money.

Monsieur: Monsieur Gil, we are not worried about your money. If you are hungry, have something to eat.

Jacob: I'll be happy to pay for his meal.

Steve: That's very nice monsieur, but there is no need. Gil is an old friend.