Day 44

Matt: Mdala almost had me convinced I should do something you know. I disagreed with him but I respected the fact that he really cared about something. I love space, but I'll admit, I'm a kid about it. I want to fly to the starts. I want their to be aliens. I want the adventure. But it isn't something I believe in. But then he goes and blows things up, himself up, I'm not sure that was really part of the plan. But, damn it that's just insane. If that's belief you can have it. What the fuck is the point in believing in something to the point you kill? Anyone? And there was that Jacob guy. Would he kill? I don't know. It seems likely right?

Celeste (coming out with a glass of wine and sitting): I have not heard, understood, everything, but you are right that belief that kills is not a belief worth having. It is monsieur's joke to call me the revolutionary. I did want change. Believed it necessary. But I did not kill. Monsieur he asked me today if I would have. I don't know. I got sent here. Back in 71 an Americain boy came through here. It was Viet Nam then, another French outpost, n'est ce pas? And America, she had changed to the . . . lottery, n'est ce pas? (Matt nods). He was here because he had not been drafted. His number not picked, tu sais?

Matt: Yes, I remember.

Celeste: Vraiment? I thought you too young.

Matt: Older brother was just old enough to be in the lottery.

Celeste: Ah. Eh bien, he drank a lot because he did not know if he would have gone or not gone. He had wanted the test, no? And he did not get it.

Matt: I'm not sure . . .

Celeste: I think believers, like this Mdala, this Jacob, they want the test. They want to know they passed or they did not pass.

Matt: The Kool-Aid Acid test.

Celeste: Comment?

Matt: Something else from that era. If you could take Acid, LSD?, but still have it together enough to deal with emergencies then you passed the acid test. I think. It always seemed stupid to me; what was the point of getting out of your head if the goal was to prove you were still in it?

Celeste: Oui. That is it I think. They do not know what they want, but they want to pass the “test” to prove that they are . . . je ne sais pas? (he drinks).

Matt: Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow, creeps in this petty pace from day to day

Matt and Celeste: to the last syllable of recorded time.

Jusqu'a la derniere syllabe du temps inscrit.

Celeste: Eh bien, Macbeth he believes it all means nothing because it goes on without him, but he denies the havoc he has wreaked because he believed in “fate.”

Matt: I love Anne.

Celeste: Mais?

Matt: But maybe Mdala was right about something. . . If you aren't doing something, you're lashing out at everything else. I think that's what we're both doing.

(Noises off: Anne, Marie, Gil, and Jacob enter)

Anne: We're back, en force! (Celeste rises and crosses to his post at the bar, glances at the sleeping Monsieur and puts his finger to his lips to the incoming group, who nod and somewhat quietly make their way to the patio area.)