Wednesday, July 13, 2011

Day 54 FIN

Sometimes you need to know when to stop. A revised Act III and an epilogue. Much revision in the future, but I will turn my attention to another project for awhile.


Act Three
Scene 1

Morning Matt and Mdala are having breakfast at separate tables but conversing.

Mdala: Senegal. I came here 14 years ago to help build a hydroelectric plant. I'd meant to go home and work there, but another project came along...and probably more importantly, a woman.

Matt: Ah.

Mdala: It didn't last, or lasted only long enough for me to settle here. Now perhaps it's time to go. There is work to be done in my homeland, and sitting here protesting something that is not going to change in a country that is not really mine does not make sense.

Matt: You could stop protesting.

Mdala (leaping at the bait): Rockets are a major polluter. The space center destroyed thousands of acres of forest just to be built. Every launch spews pollution the equivalent of a day of New York City traffic—and equals it in noise.

Matt: Every new technology brings problems, I'll grant. That's no reason to halt progress. We learn how to control those problems by having them, and often through something we've learned in the process of developing that technology to begin with.

Mdala: God gave us this world in a functioning state. We've completely fouled it up and your argument is to keep fouling up more?

Matt: If you're arguing for a static earth—that God had made something in which everything just worked in perfect balance, you're arguing for something for which there is no evidence, and that means going back before humans entered the scene.

Mdala: Evidence generated by your technology. No. Stop. Mine was a metaphor. Take god out of the equation, the point is the Earth needs our help and launching rockets into space isn't helping.

Matt: The environmental movement's biggest boost came from the Apollo photo “earth rise over the moon.” That photo galvanized the world into recognizing the tiny place we lived and how important it was to help it. So, actually, space flight did help save the earth and continues to do so. Most of what we know about environmental problems and their scope we monitor by satellite.

Mdala: So we pollute to conquer?

Matt: We advance, and we create trash. You would stop humankind?

Mdala: I would ch . . . (he stops himself) . . .What do you protest?

Matt: What do I protest?

Mdala: Surely there is something in the world you think should change.

Matt: Well, I guess so, sure.

Mdala: So what do you do to make that change?

Matt (pausing): I guess I don't.

Mdala (waits for him to continue and speaks only when he does not do so): Then why live?

Matt: Aren't you stretching the topic? Turning a legitimate disagreement into a theological issue?

Mdala: Alright, then where's your advancement? If you aren't actively pursuing change aren't you just as much “stopping” humankind as you claim I am?

Matt: Why can't I “actively” support the space program just as you “actively” try to stop it.

Mdala: Because it doesn't need you? Going along with the status quo isn't being active. You are right, “active” does not have to be negative, but you can't claim to be active just because you are paddling your boat toward the waterfall.

Celeste (approaching): Anything else for either of you?

Matt (relieved at the interruption): No, just my check. I need to be heading out. Where's Steve? Too early for him?

Celeste: Yes ,a bit early yet.

Mdala: Another coffee I think, merci.

Anne (enters): Matt. Mdala. How are you?

Mdala: Very well thank you.

Celeste brings coffee for Mdala and check to Matt

Anne: Are you leaving?

Matt: Well I thought I'd . . . you weren't here . . . but (glances at Mdala) now that you are I'll stay. Bring a menu would you Steve?

Celeste: Of course. Coffee for madame?

Anne: Oui, merci. Crème et sucre.

Celeste: Mais, d'accord. And you monsieur?

Matt: What? Yes, please, another coffee, and a menu I think.

Celeste: Of course.

Jeanette (enters waves to everyone; Mdala indicates she can join him at his table and she does so): Bon jour.

Matt: Bon Jour Jeanette, comment allez vous?

Jeanette: Tres bien, monsieur, et vous?

Matt: Eh?

Anne: He's fine Jeanette. You seem to be up bright and early.

Jeanette (sensing a dig): Do you think so?

Matt: Of course she is; it's the big day!

Mdala: Ah, I have surrounded myself.

Jeanette (smiles): Ah, monsieur Mdala, I am sorry you do not like the rockets. Would you prefer your table back?

Anne: Oh, I'm sure he can tolerate your presence for a little bit, can't you Mdala?

Jeanette (smiling, on the attack): Or perhaps you and I could trade places Anne.

Celeste returns with Anne and Matt's coffees and menus.

Celeste: Jeanette, good morning. Getting an early start for the launch? (Anne gloats)

Jeanette: Coffee (glance to Anne) and a Bloody Mary, bread, cheese.

Anne: I think just a croissant for me.

Jeanette: Not hungry? Sex always leaves me famished. (Anne wants to respond but realizes there is no winning response).

Jacob and Marie enter together, everyone freezes as they approach. Both are obviously upset.

Celeste: Marie?

Marie: It's Gil. He (she leans against Jacob) He tried to commit suicide last night.

Celeste: Merde. Tried? So he's . . . ?

Marie: In the hospital. I don't know what he found. Pills, booze, and drank something else, I don't know. (Celeste pulls out a chair, she sits. He looks at Jacob questioningly).

Jacob: Another person at my meeting was going in for surgery this morning. I went to the hospital to see her and bumped into Marie.

Jeanette: I'm so sorry Marie, I . . .

Marie (wiping away tears and looking around): Where's Monsieur? (Everyone except Celeste looks around expectantly and he is not at his table)

Celeste (obviously concerned): He called (his tone indicates this itself is unusual), said he was tired this morning and said he would come in later.

Marie: Tired? He is always here. He is . . . I need him.

Jacob: I'm sure it's okay. The gentleman is very old. Surely you can allow him to be tired.

Jeanette: It is like saying the sun is tired monsieur. If the sun rose two hours late, you'd worry.

Jacob: I realize he has been very regular. But whereas the sun cannot change it's course . . .

Monsieur: Non? Then there is another story put to rest. (he enters from the direction of the beach but fully dressed: he does not seem particularly different except perhaps that he seems to be working to maintain normalcy)

Celeste (relieved): Ah, bon jour Monsieur. (he pulls his chair out for him).

Monsieur (still standing): I have arrived in the middle of something, yes?

Steve: It's Gil Monsieur. Marie says that he has tried to commit suicide and is at the hospital.

Monsieur: Bon, then he is making choices.

Marie (looking up bewildered): Bon! Bon? He's in the hospital and you say Bon!

Monsieur: I am sorry mademoiselle, I did not mean to be unkind. Of course I am not happy he is in pain. But, he is alive, non? Then he now knows life is a choice. (He crosses to Marie puts his hand on her shoulder) I do not think he will choose against it again. (He looks closely at her) I had to work harder to make that choice today as well. (she reaches up and lays her hand on his)

Jacob: There is help for those who will accept it.

Monsieur (gently): Non. Every one they must make that choice themselves, each time, every time alone.

Jacob: You are merely obstinate monsieur, and pride yourself that you make this choice yourself.

Monsieur: You got lucky monsieur and ever since you have avoided making the choice for yourself by pretending that it was made for you. Someday, you will realize you choose for yourself.

Jacob: I am disgusted. You all claim Gil is your friend, but he is in the hospital and none of you are doing anything about it except using it as a chance to deny God.

Marie: I do not deny him monsieur. I was at the hospital. You were the one who suggested I leave.

Celeste: We have only just received this news. As you say, he is in hospital, and I believe we assumed since Marie is here, that now is not the time for us to rush there. As for your god...

Jacob: He's not mine.

Monsieur: It is too tempting to ask if it is not you who are denying him now, (Jacob starts to speak Monsieur gestures) tempting, but I will not. I am tired of the arguments circulaire. You believe, bon. Act on your belief. I act on mine.

Jacob: I do.

Monsieur: Then please proceed and let us discuss our friend.

Jacob: Are you sending me away.

Celeste: Did you wish to order something?

Jacob: I . . . why am I being excluded?

Celeste: Monsieur, you are not being excluded. You are intruding.

Marie: Celeste, Monsieur, he was kind enough to bring me here, I owe him better courtesy than this.

Monsieur: Of course, as you wish Marie. Celeste, some coffee please, and water too I think. Bread. (he crosses to his table and Celeste heads in)

Mdala: Pardon mademoiselle, I am sorry for your friend and hope he is better soon. I will leave you with your friends. (He nods to Anne and Matt suggesting they should also exit.)

Matt: What?

Anne: Yes, of course. Marie, if there's anything I can do for you.

Marie: Yes, thank you. You don't have to leave. Have your breakfast. It's not like we're discussing some great secret.

Anne: You're sure.

Marie: Of course. (And finally acknowledging Jeanette) and Jeanette, please stay. I'm sorry too, join me. (Jeanette leave's Mdala's table and comes to Marie's, they embrace ).

Anne: How? When?

Jacob: I knew one of us should have gone with him.

Marie: What do you mean?

Jacob: Last night, Gil came to my meeting.

Marie (dubious): Really?

Jacob: God calls many who do not expect to hear him.

Marie: Gil said god called him to you?

Jacob: No. It doesn't work like that, well sometimes it does, but no, he just walked into the hall, stumbled really. He was quite drunk.

Marie: So he wasn't coming to see you.

Jacob: We never know what moves us.

Monsieur: We do. We just often deny our own knowledge.

Jacob: Fine, then he knew what he was doing coming in, he just did not acknowledge it.

Monsieur: Ah, I did not mean to deny accidents. If I trip on the way to the bathroom, it is not a supernatural message.

Jacob: Perhaps not, but it could be. (Monsieur starts to respond and Marie stops him)

Marie: N'importe! What happened then?

Jacob: Well after it was over I talked to him. I'd seen him at dinner here, so recognized him.

Maire: And?

Jacob: He was upset about his disease, I told him everything that happened was God's will, and that he could be healed by god as well.

Marie: And he agreed with this?

Jacob: He wasn't really talking much. Anyway after he was a bit recovered I suggested we come back here. I figured his friends were here and someone would see him home. But. When I got here, Steve sort of chased me away and implied I was just trying to exploit him and then Gil decided to go see you.

Marie: That was his idea?

Jacob: Uh, yes, I think so. Why. Is it important?

Jeanette: Of course it's important.

Jacob: Yes, I'm sure it was his. Anyway I offered to walk with him and he said he needed “space.” I told Steve someone should go with him and Steve said he was fine. I'm sure that's where things went wrong. Someone should have been with him.

Marie: Someone was. He'd called me, remember? He came. I was there for him.

Jacob (too demandingly): So what happened?

Jeanette: Who are you, the magistrate? Mind your own business.

Jacob: I think it is . . .

Celeste (placing his hand on his shoulder): It is not. Mademoiselle asked that we show you courtesy. Such things are reciprocal.

Jacob: Take your hand . . . (Celeste begins lifting his shoulder and so him) . . . alright. I'm just concerned like everyone else. But I can see I'm not welcome. (He stands and Celeste releases him).

Marie: Monsieur . . . why do you make everything a judgement, on others, on yourself?

Jacob starts, hesitates, and leaves exasperated. Anne takes this as a cue to pay attention to her breakfast leaving Marie and Jeanette “alone.”

Marie starts crying

Jeanette: What is it? Marie?

Marie: Oh god it may be my fault. He came in and we talked, things seemed better between us. We, we even made love, and then. . .

Jeanette: Yes?

Marie: I told him I was pregnant. (Jeanette snorts knowingly) No. No, he seemed fine. Shocked yeah, but he didn't freak out or say anything stupid.

Jeanette: Like “how did this happen” or “is it mine?”

Marie: (a little laugh) Yeah, nothing like that.

Jeanette: So, then?

Marie: We slept. He must have gotten up sometime later and . . . oh I shouldn't have told him; he didn't need this too.

Jeanette: Nor did you, but you both have both. It wasn't unfair of you.

Marie: You sure? I should call Steve, see if he has anything to add to Jacob's version. (she calls) Steve? It's Marie. Give me a call ok? It's Gil. He . . . he's in hospital.

Celeste brings Matt and Anne their bill in the background and they pay, Anne comes over to the table.

Anne: As I said Marie, if there's anything we can do. You have my number. We'll be going up to the launch a little later, but I'm going to get a swim in first. (Pauses) Jeanette if you'd like a ride, we can give you one.

Jeanette (hesitates): Thank you, that would be nice.

Anne: Meet you here for lunch then?

Jeanette: Okay, yes. (looks at Marie) If anything changes I'll call. (Anne nods)

Anne: My best Marie, for you and Gil.

Marie (stands and hugs): Thank you.

Celeste brings fruit, bread, and cheese to the table

Celeste: You should eat something. If this doesn't suit. . .

Marie (tearing up): Thank you Celeste, this is fine.

Lights out

Scene 2

Late morning, Celeste approaches Monsieur at his table

Celeste: Monsieur. Monsieur? (no response, Celeste gently reaches forward and realizes Monsieur is asleep) Dormez vous Monsieur? Eh bien, let him sleep. (He walks onto the sidewalk area and looks as though hoping to see someone.) Il est étrange. (He heads back to the bar.)

Enter Anne and Matt who take a seat at a table

Celeste: Bon jour Madame et Monsieur

Anne: Bon jour Celeste. Ou est Steve?

Celeste: Je ne sais pas. Il est étrange. Il est toujours a l'heure.

Matt: What is it?

Anne: Steve hasn't come in and he's never done that before.

Matt: Well maybe he got lucky last night. Didn't Jeanette suggest she had. They seem like they'd be a good couple.

Anne: But she was here this morning, and he's never missed before---and I doubt that he's never gotten “lucky” before, as you put it.

Matt (shrugging): How should I put it?

Celeste (who has been waiting patiently): Café?

Anne: Oui, deux.

Celeste: Crème et sucre, non?

Anne: Oui pour moi, mais il aura sa noir.

Celeste: Un moment.

Matt: No wine?

Anne: Not if I'm going to be standing in the sun all afternoon. Did you want a beer or something? Sorry, when he asked I just went for it.

Matt: It's fine. I can get one at the launch I'm sure.

Jeanette arrives

Anne: Ah, bon jour Jeanette. (she half rises and they do the cheek pecks about three feet from each other)

Jeanette: Bon jour Anne. Matt (who has stood gets real cheek pecks, since he's right there. Like most Americans he's not quite sure what to do about it)

Celeste: Voila. (sets coffees and service down) Jeanette?

Jeanette (looks at the coffees and rejects the idea): Vin s'il vous plait.

Celeste: Bon.

Anne: I get headaches if I drink and stand in the sun.

Jeanette: We might be able to find some shade.

Anne: Thanks but unless you could find an air conditioner too, I'll wait till evening.

Matt: Any secret locations to watch the launch from or are we best just to go to the main viewing area?

Jeanette: I like to be as close as I can—to feel it not just see it. But there is a spot in the mountains where you can see the launch pad and watch the lift off for as long as its visible.

Anne: Is it cooler in the mountains?

Jeanette: Not really. It might be better than the viewing area. But it is quite far away.

Matt: I think the viewing area would be better. There will be concessions and toilet facilities there Anne.

Anne: Ok it's your show.

Jeanette: I just want to give Marie a quick call and see if there's news. (calls) Marie? Ça va? . . . mmm . . .eh bien. Tonight? That's good. Do you need help. We should be back from the launch by then. . . . Steve? (Looks around) No, I don't see him.

Anne: Celeste said he's not here.

Jeanette: Pardon?

Anne: Celeste said he's not here.

Jeanette: Celeste says he is not here Marie. Non, I don't know. Ok, I'll call you tonight. You call if you need me. (to Anne) That's strange Steve not being here. Celeste! (she goes in and returns shaking her head) He says he tried calling and got no answer. I think he's actually getting a little angry. He doesn't really like to wait tables.

Matt: Well I'm sure he'll turn up. We should be going.

Anne: Ok, ok dear. We're coming. (all exit).

Scene 3

Jacob enters

Jacob (to Celeste): Good morning, or is it afternoon? Well, I was wondering if you'd had any news of Gil? I've got Marie's phone number, but I hesitate to call her . . . I

Celeste: I know nothing. (Jacob sags, Celeste relents somewhat) Jeanette was here with the Americans. She called Marie . . . it seemed like good news.

Jacob: Praise God. (he seems to drop into silent prayer, perhaps even holding his hands as such)

Celeste turns back to his work. Jacob finishes his prayer and sits at an outdoor table; Celeste keeps working; after some time Jacob looks around to see if he will be waited on

Jacob (calling in to Celeste): Is it possible to order?

Celeste (calling back): Oui, but there is no waiter on duty. If you would order at the bar, I will bring it when ready.

Jacob debates leaving, acquiesces and walks back into the bar and places his order and on his return to his table crosses near Monsieur

Jacob: Bon jour monsieur, comment allez vous?

Monsieur: Eh bien. Et vous?

Jacob: Well, thank you. And grateful to God there is good news about Gil.

Monsieur: And would you be angry with him if there were not?

Jacob: I would submit to his will (and he goes to his table. Monsieur simply watches him).

Marie starts to enter, sees Jacob, retreats, then appears inside talking to Celeste—a conversation which becomes increasingly animated

Marie: No one's gone to look? You just assume! (she exits out front past Jacob)

Celeste: Marie! I'm sure he's (she is gone) Merde.

Jacob: What's the problem? (Celeste shrugs and returns to bar goes into kitchen and returns with food for Jacob which he brings out delivers without comment) Thank you.

Celeste: Salud.

Monsieur: Celeste, qu'est que c'est?

Celeste: Marie asked about Steve. I said he didn't come in. She asked why, I said I didn't know . . .

Monsieur: And?

Celeste: And I told her what we were talking about last night, and that you had said he was wasting away. . .

Monsieur: Yes?

Celeste: She became upset. Said, what if he committed suicide, obviously it is on her mind . . . and that she couldn't understand why we had not tried to contact him. I told her I had telephoned.

Jacob: Am I to understand that you told your waiter he was a waste and then ignored the situation when he did not show up?

Celeste: Monsieur it is none of your business.

Jacob: Human beings are my business. You . . . atheists . . . may not care what happens to anyone . . .

Monsieur: Assez! Monsieur Jacob, this is indeed not your affair. In addition you have no basis on which to assert that I or Celeste or anyone else you have met in the last two days does or does not care about other human beings.

Jacob: Oh, you can try and talk your way out of it, but now you're the one who's just refusing to accept responsibility for what you have done.

Monsieur: I have never not accepted my responsibility.

Jacob: Celeste just said you told this young man his life was a waste

Monsieur: That is not what I said nor is what Celeste just said. You insist on making things up so that you can be dramatic.

Jacob: It's exactly what he said!

Monsieur: Calm yourself. It is not. He said, as I did, that Monsieur Steve, he was wasting away. The context . . .

Jacob: Oh now with the contextual ethics . . .

Monsieur: Monsieur, you are quite overwrought. (Jacob collapses)

Lights out sirens, are heard. Different sirens are heard over them. Then a distant explosion. Lights come up on Celeste and Monsieur at the table a portable radio between them.

Scene 4

Monsieur: Everything at once. Gil, then Steve, then the evangelist, and now this.

Celeste: We should get a TV. And Marie pregnant.

Monsieur: Ah, yes, she will need our help. They yell too much on TV. You would think with pictures they wouldn't need to yell but they do.

Celeste: Listen,

Radio announcer: The explosion at the space centre appears to have occurred in the parking lot for the viewing area. It is not yet clear if this was intentional or some sort of accident. There are injuries, some are reporting deaths, but we have no confirmation. There is no word yet if the launch will be affected. It is scheduled for 6:27, about an hour from now.

Monsieur: Do you think . . .

Celeste: It must be. Cars don't just blow up.

Monsieur: Did they say it was a car?

Celeste: What else is in a parking lot?

Monsieur: I do not understand. Who would? Would you have? For the revolution?

Celeste: I don't know. Maybe. When I was young . . . probably. But, it would have to have been against someone, something. To blow up something to do with the state, yes. But not the people.

Monsieur: But always there are people. And somehow one can always connect things. These people what were they?

Celeste: At the launch? Just people . . . tourists, people who wanted to see the launch.

Monsieur: People like our Americain friends.

Celeste: Alors, I didn't even think.

Monsieur: But more. They are not just people. Monsieur Matt, he is a . . . aficionado n'est ce pas? A supporter of space programs?

Celeste: Oui, d'accord . . . merde. Mdala? (Monsieur shrugs)

Police detective (entering): Monsieur Meursault?

Monsieur: Oui, ici.

Police detective: Et Celeste Rimbaud?

Celeste: Oui.

Police detective: Do you know Stephen Diehl?

Celeste (glances to Monsieur who nods): Oui . . . he works as a waiter here. Is there a problem?

Police detective: With employing Americains without work permits?

Monsieur: That is not why you are here.

Police detective (pauses momentarily): Non. We arrested him earlier today. He was (looks at notes) attempting “to free the girls” at Madame Auraria's?

Monsieur: Vraiment? Trés bon!

Police detective: Do you know Madame Auraria's monsieur?

Monsieur (shrugging and smiling): At my age, I know of such things, like I know that once I could run and jump and I felt no pain—it would be more accurate to say I believe in such things rather than that I know them.

Police detective: I was not implying . . . but why did you . . . cheer . . . when I told you of monsieur Diehl's action?

Monsieur: Because it is a choice.

Police detective: Comment?

Celeste: N'importe detective. What are the charges? Why have you come to us?

Police detective: Because he gave you as references. He said a murderer and a revolutionary could vouch for his character. Does he drink a lot, this waiter?

Monsieur: Hardly at all.

Celeste: What is required? (Marie enters)

Marie: Celeste, Monsieur, oh pardon. J'interromps.

Monsieur: Marie, il est bon de te voir. Assis. (he gestures to his table)

Marie: Merci monsieur. (she sits) Have you heard from Steve yet?

Police detective: Ah, do you know the Americain as well? Perhaps he has saved you?

Celeste: Bastard!

Police detective: Watch your tongue. I apologize mademoiselle, it was a joke.

Marie (truly baffled): I don't understand.

Monsieur: And we will not offend you by explaining the bad joke. But yes we have heard of our Steve. He is under arrest, but otherwise well (looking at detective) yes?

Police detective: Yes. He may have some bruises from the scuffle, but nothing serious.

Celeste: He'd better not. Again, what is required of us. You didn't come around just to let us know.

Police detective: Well, do you vouch for him? You can bail him out, too. But without your vouchsafe he's headed for deportation instantly. He may be anyway if he can't prove he's here legitimately.

Monsieur: Of course we vouch for him. I have seen his papers. I can't go down, Celeste go, please.

Celeste: Who will run the place? With respect, you cannot.

Marie: I can cover for you Celeste. (Monsieur nods)

Celeste: Alright, I suppose we'll need cash.

Monsieur: Thank you Marie. What is the news of Gil?

Marie: He's coming home tonight. I'll go down to the hospital after Celeste gets back.

Celeste: All right monsieur. I will return with our waiter.

Monsieur: Gracias Celeste.

Celeste: Hmmph.

He exits. Monsieur watches then lays his head on his arms. He seems very small.

Scene 5

Marie: Monsieur? Monsieur?

Monsieur (lifting head): I am very tired Marie.

Marie: Can I get you anything?

Monsieur: N . . . a glass of wine I think.

Marie (trying to be playful): I do not think that will wake you up Monsieur.

Monsieur: I do need to wake up Marie. A little pleasure at the end of the day is plenty.

Marie (hesitates): Ok, anything special?

Monsieur: Non, the red s'il vous plait. (Marie goes behind the bar and pours and brings the glass) Merci Marie. Do you know I almost married a Marie once?

Marie: Non. I'm sure you loved her very much.

Monsieur: I told her I didn't think I did, but we could marry if she wished.

Marie: You are always honest monsieur, so I will be. I do not think that was very nice.

Monsieur (chuckles): And you are always very polite Marie. Non, it was not nice. I did think it was true, but then I thought it was true because I did not think love was. Only a day later, I was starting to think differently, or at least I knew it was possible to be happy. It was as though a cloud were lifting . . . but then the sun stabbed my eyes and . . . (he shakes his head)

Marie: Monsieur?

Monsieur: I thought because it did not matter, that it did not matter what, or if, I chose. That if it did not matter, then it did not matter whether one did A or B.

Marie: That what did not matter?

Monsieur: Anything, everything. Ah, there's the mistake see. “Anything” and “Everything” they are not the same, yes? (he looks at her for a moment) I think that you think differently, but I do not think that there is some big purpose or reason to life. We just are. We live and we die. In this sense, nothing matters. But that does not mean it does not matter what you do. My life it does not matter to the universe, but it matters to me to the people I know. It will not matter when I am gone

Marie: Oh, monsieur . . .

Monsieur: Non, Marie, it will not. It most certainly will not for me. And for you? You may remember me kindly or not, but your life will go right on regardless of my cessation. But. While I am here I affect you, you affect me. So our choices matter. They matter to us individually, and they matter to those around us.

Marie: This does not seem so profound Monsieur.

Monsieur (smiles): You are gaining in honesty Marie.

Marie: I did not mean . . .

Monsieur: Stop. Do not apologize. I do not mean because I affect you I should be nice for the sake of being nice – not if it stops me being something else more important.

Marie: Like being honest?

Monsieur: Précisément. If you offend me with honesty, I should not be offended. I think that is why my Marie did not walk out. . . though she cried. I also think that perhaps she understood that I felt more than I knew. I told her I did not think I loved her. I think perhaps she thought otherwise (shrugs) pêut etre. (he takes a sip of the wine) Won't you have some too?

Marie: I am working monsieur.

Monsieur (looking around): This day of too much excitement seems to mean there is no business. You will take a taxi to get monsieur Gil?

Marie: Yes.

Monsieur: Then as the owner, I say you may join me.

Marie: Oh, god, that reminds me, what happened to Steve?

Monsieur: Get your wine (she does and returns). Eh bien, our Steve, he made a choice.

Marie: Celeste told me earlier you said he was wasting his time here.

Monsieur: Non, non, non. I said he was wasting away. We were discussing life in prison, yes? And like now, I had grown philosophical. I said surviving prison, really surviving life—it is the same thing, yes? (Marie nods, shakes her head) – so, surviving life, it is all about deciding to live. It is the choice we make every day. Maybe many times, though we do not know it. If you are not choosing, you are wasting away. Monsieur Steve, he said he was not making choices, so I said he, like many prisoners, was wasting away.

Marie: I see . . . maybe. But this choice, surely it wasn't to be arrested.

Monsieur: Non. And I think he confused the idea of choice with action and with doing something noble. He could do exactly what he has been doing and not waste away, as long as he chose to do it. Consciously.

Marie: I don't think I understand.

Monsieur: Every moment you are conscious you are alive. When you are not, you might as well be dead. You have stood at the edge of a cliff, yes? Felt the pull? That wondering what if I just stepped off?

Marie: Yes, I guess, yes, sure.

Monsieur: It is not the urge to suicide. Or maybe the suicide it is the same urge. It is that suddenly you know life is a choice. You can step off the edge or not. Standing still is still a choice, yes?—the choice most important. It is what keeps you alive, yes?

Marie: Yes.

Monsieur: Every day, every moment, you are always on the cliff only most people they do not see it or they deny it. Live every moment on the cliff.

Long silence while Marie ponders

Marie: But Gil. Wasn't he choosing to die?

Monsieur: I do not thinks so. I think the suicide, it is the decision to make a choice, but because most people do not realize that life is a choice, they think the only choice is death. And for Gil, he feels like this disease will rob him of his choice, that it will choose for him, so he takes a stand and chooses first.

Marie: I can understand that.

Monsieur: But non! All our lives end. Period. Full stop. It does not matter what you do. So the disease is not making a choice for you. Death is not a choice. It is inevitable. If you want to live, you must do so now. Always now.

A commotion of many voices and Matt, Anne, and Jeanette enter from US through the bar.

Scene 6

Anne: Oh my god, this has just been unbelievable.

Matt: At least we're all fine. Who would have thought?

Jeanette: It is so, so dispiriting. Ah, Marie! Monsieur! Have you heard? It is too much.

Marie: What?

Monsieur: Of the explosion we have heard, but we have had our own excitement too. Is the launch cancelled? Do they know the cause?

Matt: The launch has been delayed a few hours but it will go up tonight, but because

Anne: because of the bomb . . .

Marie: A bomb?

Anne: . . . yes bomb . . .

Marie: Who? Why?

Jeanette: That is the thing most incroyable. It was Monsieur Mdala, he got up on his car and made a speech about the, the . . .

Matt: You know, his whole song and dance about the environment.

Anne: He wasn't really near us, so we couldn't hear very clearly but he wasn't getting positive feedback.

Jeanette: And then BOOM! The car is in flames . . . and so . . . oh too horrible.

Marie: Oh my god. He seemed so . . . (everyone nods)

Matt: Oh nice enough I suppose, but you have to watch those zealots.

Anne: So then they made everyone leave, so we will have to watch it from here.

Jeanette: Yes, it is too bad.

Anne (sitting): Well all-in-all it's ok by me. Has Steve shown up; can we get a drink?

Matt: I could use a drink too (glancing around to be sure no one else is in the bar) In fact I'll buy a round for the house.

Anne: That's my man.

Marie: I'm covering the bar . . .

Anne: But where's Steve?


Lights out and up they are gathered in conversation with many drinks on the table.


Anne: But why was he arrested for freeing girls from prostitution?

Jeanette: Probably because they were not interested in being freed and because he was making a disturbance.

Anne: Well I think that's a disturbance that should be made.

Marie (bringing Matt a Margarita): Like the disturbance at the space centre?

Anne: No. It's completely different.

Matt: I should say so. (he sips his Margarita skeptically then smiles) Hey this is good.

Marie: Merci monsieur. But I do not think it is so different. You agree with Steve, or you like Steve, or Steve is an Americain, so you think what he does is good. There are those who liked Mdala, who agreed with what he said, they will say he was doing good. Maybe you are right monsieur that you have to watch out for the zealots, but I think you have to watch out for people who think they know what “good” is.

Jeanette: Or evil.

Celeste (entering): Neither exists. There's compassionate logic or complacency and stupidity. And sadly I think our Steve is opting for the latter. He insists on sitting in jail till he sees the judge – perhaps tomorrow. I don't know if he thinks he is paying his dues, atoning for his sins, or proving his manhood, but it is stupid. Pah!

Marie: Oooh, what is he thinking to spend the night in jail?

Matt: Well at least you have a good replacement in Marie. Hey, that's right she was replacing you as well. She makes a mean Margarita.

Anne: Oh for god's sakes Matt.

Celeste (eyeing Marie): Vraiment? C'ést bon.

Marie: I don't want to take Steve's job.

Celeste: I somehow think he may not be coming back. But, that we can wait to see.

Marie: And now that you're back, I need to get Gil, can you call a taxi?

Anne: We can give you a lift Marie.

Matt: Uh . . .

Anne: I'll give you a lift, Matt's started to make a night of it.

Marie (hesitates): Well . . . I don't want to impose.

Celeste (an actual phone in hand): Well?

Anne: Please, I'd like to.

Marie: Ok, sure, thank you. (Celeste hangs up the phone)

Anne (kissing Matt on the head): See you soon love. Ready?

Marie: Ok? Thank you Monsieur. Thanks Celeste.

Matt: Hurry back I'm ready for another.

Celeste: Tell Gil he's a lucky man. In lots of ways. (Marie smiles, looks to Monsieur whose head is again on his arms).

Marie: I think he's asleep. He said he was very tired earlier. If I'm not back for the launch have a good time all. And wake Monsieur; he said he wanted to see it.

Chorus of good-byes.

Celeste: Maybe now we can get back to normal. Did you say you wanted another monsieur?

Matt: Yes, and Jeanette what are you drinking?

Jeanette: My beer. But I could use something to eat.

Matt: What was that soup Anne was . . . oh never mind that was the stuff the terrorist got her to eat.

Jeanette: Terroriste? Ah, Mdala? Surely you can say his name. After all, we knew him.

Matt: I wouldn't say I knew him.

Jeanette: Where was he from?

Matt: Senegal, came here to build a dam or something and stayed for a woman.

Jeanette: I do not think you know this much about me.

Matt: We had one conversation. You and I talked about space and rockets instead of ourselves.

Jeanette: Why is that you think? Why talk to him about his job and woman and not about rockets.

Matt: Oh we did that too.

Jeanette: But we, we did not talk about both.

Matt: No.

Jeanette: Non. (silence) No ideas?

Matt: Oh, were you really expecting me to answer. Sorry, Anne is always speculating about things but if I offer an explanation or opinion she ignores it or dismisses it. She doesn't actually want an answer, she just wants to wonder.

Jeanette: I do not want to talk about Anne.

Matt: No? Ok, well what should we talk about?

Jeanette: I had been talking about us. Oh, never mind. Celeste, ciao, if Maria and Gil come back here, give me a ring or ask them to, okay?

Celeste (calling from inside) Oui, Jeanette, take care.

Matt: You're coming back for the launch right?

Jeanette (over her shoulder exiting): C'ést possible.

Celeste (coming out with the Margarita) There you are.

Matt (sips): Good, but whatever Marie did differently it was really good.

Celeste: I will have to have her instruct me then.

Matt: Probably just beginner's luck. That was rather odd, Jeanette just bolting like that.

Celeste: Bolting?

Matt: Oh, leaving suddenly.

Celelste: Jeanette does not sit still, unless she has your attention.

Matt: But we were talking.

Celeste (heading back to the bar): It is not the same.

Matt stares out into space

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 stars. I want there 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: 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 (simultaneous): to the last syllable of recorded time.
Celeste (simultaneous): 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 (pause): I love Anne.

Celeste: Mais?

Matt: But maybe Anne and Mdala were right. . . If you aren't doing something focused outside yourself, you're lashing out at everything else. I think that's what we're both doing.

Celeste: You have to make whatever you're doing a choice, and know what your choices really are –

Matt: What do you mean?

Celeste: For example, Monsieur suggested Gil's suicide was because he thought life was a given, so the only choice was death.

Matt: So, we fight because we think it's the only option? Instead of . . . what?

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

Anne: We're back,! (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.)

Celeste: Welcome back Gil.

Gil: Thank you Celeste, where's Steve? I think I owe him an apology.

Celeste: Ah! That reminds me, we owe you something. (Celeste pulls money from his pocket) It seems you did leave more here than we thought (Celeste looks challengingly at Jacob, who says nothing).

Gil: Oh, good. (with weak humor) That will help with the hospital bills and court costs. (Marie pats his shoulder reassuringly, and he reaches up and holds her hand). Oh, yeah and the college fund. (Matt and Anne in particular laugh). But where is Steve?

Marie: It's crazy. He's in jail.

Gil: Steve? Jail? They deporting him?

Marie: Something inspired him to do “good” in the world and he made a disturbance at Madame Aurelia's.

Gil: Joke right? Really? Steve?

Anne: Apparently no joke, and he's refused bail.

Gil: Refused bail? Why in the world . . .

Celeste: Because Steve is a pig-headed . . .

Jeanette: (entering with Steve): fool, but mainly because an equally pig-headed frenchman instead of a woman went to bail him out. (Steve waves somewhat meekly toward them all and they cluster around saying hello, Steve finally breaks away and crosses to Monsieur).

Steve: Monsieur, Monsieur. I apologize. I only half understood what you said. I don't mind making a fool of myself but I've brought trouble to you too. Monsieur? Monsieur? (reaches out to him and looks around at the others) How long? Why is he? Don't you know? (everyone starts to react) He's dead.

Lights to black – the roar of rocket engines and a flare of light captures the tableau of the them all gathered around him
Lights Out

Epilogue

Morning: the first day of the rest of their lives. They have arrived at the bar unplanned, but where else would they go. It is doubtful Celeste has ever left, he simply provides coffee as they arrive, there is also wine. If arrivals are staged, Jeanette should either be there from the start or be first to arrive. Then Steve, Marie and Gil, Anne first followed very shortly by Matt. The initial lines by all are not conversations, but ejaculations blurted out semi-consciously.

Steve: I fucked up.

Jeanette (pouring herself a glass of wine and returning to her coffee): I suppose it is stupid to say I loved him, but what else do you call it? It's like saying you love the sun or water or breathing. Of course you do.

Matt: I miss Mdala. Isn't that weird, but he should be here somehow.

Marie (fingering the cross at her neck murmuring prayers): I know Monsieur, but it comforts me and it doesn't really matter whether you believed or not. I think you never worried that we saw it differently.

Gil: So tell me, if it's a choice does that make all death suicide?

Anne: How did we not know? Shouldn't you just know? I mean . . . if you can't tell . . .

Celeste (coming out to the group): Ok. Steve, are you still working? (Steve looks up questioningly) Are you quitting or are you still on staff?

Steve: What are you talking about? Jesus Christ he's dead.

Celeste: And not going to rise again. But I don't want the business to go down with him.

Matt: Surely you're not going to open?

Celeste: Is that a cup of coffee in your hand? (Startled Matt drops it, Marie jumps up and runs in to grab a broom, Steve sits shaking his head)

Matt: S. . s. . .sorry, I . . .I

Celeste: I'm not going to open, I am open. It's all free today, but I'm open. And tomorrow, we go on.

Marie (returning with broom and dust pan, which Steve grabs and holds while she sweeps): Celeste, surely there will be a funeral?

Celeste: Long ago, he and I, we pledged. He will be cremated, the ashes will be scattered.

Marie: But a service?

Celeste: You're at it. Steve?

Steve: Sure of course, coming. No. Fuck it. No. This is the service? Then fine. Here's my salute to you Monsieur, a choice: No.

Marie (quietly, with a glance at Gil): I could use a job Celeste.

Celeste: Bien.

Steve: That's it? Now she's the waiter?

Celeste: Do not worry, your pay will come to you.

Steve: My pay? I've worked here for what three years and you just . . .

Celeste: You said no, n'est-ce pas?

Steve: Yes, but, I thought you might acknowledge my existence.

Jeanette (trying to calm him down): Steve, he's dealing with a lot.

Steve: Aren't we all? He's the one who's acting like nothing has happened.

Marie: Steve, if you want to stay on . . .

Steve: Jesus, no, it's not about the fucking job!

Matt: Perhaps we all should . . .

Steve: Who the fuck are you!?

Anne (in full mother mode): Enough, Steve. Sit down. Everyone's upset. I know you don't mean to make it about you, so don't. (Steve starts to respond, sits head in hands). I suggest we make some final toasts.

Jacob enters as Jeanette is speaking.

Jeanette (standing): So here's to you Monsieur! We have enjoyed your company and trust the we added to your days.

Marie: To Monsieur. I will miss you (smiles) and not miss you because I have had you.

Gil: Hail Monsieur. I will choose life (takes Marie's hand).

Celeste: Good-bye mon ami.

Jacob: May god bless you and welcome you.

Steve: You! Can't you at least respect him in death?

Jacob: What?

Steve: What are you doing here? Who invited you? Everyone else acknowledged who he was even as they said their own farewell, but for you it's just a chance to talk about your god and pay no attention to the man. (Steve pushes him) Why are you here? (Celeste puts a restraining hand on Steve's shoulder)

Jacob: Monsieur Celeste, I came back this morning to apologize and talk to Monsieur and tell him I have understood something. On the way here, I heard . . . the news.

Celeste: And what is it you understood?

Jacob: At the hospital, they said I collapsed because of dehydration, that I could have died if no one had attended to me.

Celeste: N'importe, when someone falls ill in your place of business of course you call for help.

Jacob: (shakes his head) My point wasn't to thank Monsieur, or you, for your common courtesy – or practicality (smiles), but I realized that I could in fact die, and that this death, that potential death, was entirely in my hands. (Celeste takes more interest, and Jacob responds) I have not changed my belief in God nor his beneficence, but Monsieur was right. My survival is my choice, my responsibility. And . . . perhaps I was not using his gift of life to any end other than saying, “look at me.” So, I'm going to try to use that gift to some better purpose.

Celeste: Ah, so like our Steve, you will now go save the women at Madame Aurlelia's?

Steve: Oh, Jesus.

Jacob : No Celeste – or not like that. I want to do something . . . but to take that example, (turns to Steve) if it was Steve's choice, I could work with him to set up some alternative to their current business. Something that they could choose to do or not do. I want to do some good in the world, but not by telling people what to do.

Steve (somewhat chastened): Well, that's nice I guess, but I . . .

Mdala enters

Matt: Alive? What're you doing here? Didn't do enough damage at the launch . . .

Jeanette:You're alive. But how? And didn't you?

Mdala: Didn't I? Surely you did not think?

Matt: Didn't require thinking did it?

Jeanette: We saw you talking and then the explosion, we . . .

Mdala: I am sorry to disappoint you, but it turns out I was the target not the perpetrator.

Jeanette: Oh that's wonderful.

Matt: Hmph.

Anne: Matt!

Mdala: Monsieur Celeste, I had thought I was more welcome or perhaps I would not have come, but at the hospital they told me of Monsieur's death, and I came to pay my respects, but perhaps another time.

Celeste: Non, now is the time. Indeed we were toasting him just before you arrived. Perhaps you would . . .

Mdala: Well, I . . .

Jeanette (crosses to him): I'm sorry. I'm very glad you are alive.

Mdala: (smiles): And I you. (Celeste brings him a Perrier which he lifts as a toast) Monsieur . . . to life!

Two local police and a suit enter

Police: Stephen Diehl?

Steve: Yes, what? I've done nothing. I'll be at the hearing . . .

Police: I am afraid this is not about your beau geste. You are under arrest on a warrant from the United States.

The suit steps forward

Crowley: (to the group) Special Agent Crowley. (to Steve) Nice try Stephen – almost five years. But getting yourself arrested was pretty dumb. Don't you know everybody shares these days? (The police put him in handcuffs) You will be held here until deportation. Upon your return you will serve your 20 years for trafficking, and probably an additional 20 to 40 for running away. Hope you enjoyed the five years, that sounds like life to me. Any last words?

Steve (turns, calmly to the group): Life is life, eh Monsieur?

Lights out

FIN

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