My Bluebird

Roger: Is it but a dream?

Celeste: I need to get dinner together.

Roger: It has been bothering me.

Celese: I need to get dinner together. I have been running around all day. It was long. It was not fulfilling. It was okay, though. I have certainly had worse. My Father came by. He was in shambles. He whined a lot. I mean, a whole lot. He thinks my Mother is going insane, or maybe he thinks she’s always been insane. She’s been talking to herself a lot. But, she’s always done that. She prefers her own company. I don’t think I can blame her. People are very difficult companions. I need to get dinner together.

Roger: Often I feel it is not real. Not at all. A dream. A mirage. A hallucination or some such unreachable paradise.

Celeste: I spoke to Charlie today. He looked great. He’s always been very handsome, but he took my breath away today. If I had any interest in having an affair I would take him. He looked lovely. He told me he was married recently. I forget her name. I was too busy staring at his gorgeous eyes. He looks like a Greek god. I was once told I looked like a goddess, but that was very long ago. They never specified which goddess I resembled. I am thinking they were being kind, but, perhaps, they meant it. It is possible. I need to get dinner together. I am wondering if there is food.

Roger: I am convinced this isn’t at all what it seems, or what it should be. Get out of my head. Please. Leave my personal space. I don’t need you here. I need you away from me. Very far away. This is unbearable. Please depart me, please rescue me from this ruination. I cannot and will not tolerate such flapdoodle at this moment. Please. Please.

Celeste: I need to sit down. (She sits.) I cannot bear this alone tonight. I need some excitement, or some company at least. I don’t enjoy any of myfriends. They’re all so dreary and commonplace. Don’t you agree? It’s no matter. Maybe we can invite Charlie. I wonder if he would make an appearance. I would love to see him again. However, if we invite him we’ll also need to meet his wife. I’m not sure if I’m prepared for that. But, I suppose, if it keeps me from this…. I’ll call him. (She crosses to the phone, and picks it up.) Damn it. I don’t know his number. I don’t know his last name. What am I supposed to do?

Roger: Depart. I should be more powerful than you, but I am not. I am weak and insubstantial. (Screams) I’m going to lie down. (Departs)

Celeste: Damn. What is his name? It could be Beagle. It could be Johnson. Or Kraft. Or Frome. Or Steinbeck. Perhaps it is Hemingway or Faulkner or Truman or Jefferson or Hughes or Jingles or Pinter or Bush or Clinton or Brown or Freiss? Freeze, maybe? (Epiphany) Oh, my word, I have remembered. He doesn’t have a last name. He said he was listed in the book as merely “Charlie.” Silly me. I am becoming most forgetful so soon in life. I am only…. But….. No matter, I shall make this call. (She dials the number.) Hi, Charlie. It’s Celeste. Yes… We talked today. Don’t you remember? You don’t? Well, I suppose you speak to many attractive young women who stare at you in unparalleled awe. Yes, I enjoyed myself quite a lot. You are an extraordinary specimen. I suppose I am treating you like Apollo, but that is my way. You want me to get to the blasted point? So soon? Oh, very well, silly boy, I am calling you to join us for dinner tonight. Oh, wonderful. Please arrive soon. Things are not splendid here, although I have on my most splendid outfit. Yes, please hurry, I miss you already. (She hangs up. She looks enraptured.) This will be so lovely. This may be the man who finally wipes away all of my tears. Yes, he may not, and I will become but a bit more unpleasant and unloved, but that is a risk I will take for a possibility of rapture. I must check the fridge…. I should, yes? Oh, well, I need to sit. (She sits.) We don’t need to eat. We have eaten enough for many lifetimes.

Roger: Is it a dream? I am walking and gesturing. I might even laugh at some point. But, what will it mean? Will it have its desired effect? What is a desired effect? Who am I? Who are you?(Beat) Let me be. Get your grimy claws off of my neck. I don’t want to be bothered and smothered by your loveless grasp. I need to be… but am I? What is this? I see you. Oh, I see you most clearly. I see you very well. I see your dark and seductive eyes. Yes, I know your plotting my end. You’re plotting my demented demise, aren’t you? You believe me to be a fool, but, although I am, I am not. I will not give in to this evil incarnation which you have designed for this fateful night. I will not be a party to such shenanigans. You think you can own and control and butcher anyone you like… well, my darling, you cannot. This treachery of yours shall not stand. I disallow it. I fumigate it. You w***e, you f*****g w***e! (He walks out of the room.)

Celeste: Yes, for several lifetimes. I have walked on the moon several times in my dreams, or, perhaps they weren’t dreams. Perhaps I really did walk upon the moon. Perhaps I was there. It wasn’t a dream. It was a surefire reality. It was soft and translucent, and I marveled at its beauty and structure. It brought m a fee;ling of… a feeling…. It was a feeling… I felt no longer humdrum and forgotten… Marvelous it was. And, marvelous it shall be again. It always shall be. Oh, who else shall I invite? I wonder if Charlie will bring his wife. Will he? Will she be lovely? Will she adore me? I think I will be intimdating to her. I have that affect on people. I am a beautiful and wonderful woman. No one could ever argue with those facts. They will undoubtedly try, but they will be vanquished. I don’t put up with such falsehoods. I told him I would be wearing my most splendid outfit. I look like a tramp. I need to do better, but, to do so I would need to climb the stairs…. I haven’t the will….. This will have to do. He will be charmed, I’m sure. Who can resist this?

Roger: A dream. An aberration. Are you here? Are you there? Are you anywhere at all? I love you so. I want you right now. Come to me. Embrace me. I need this more than life itself. Yes, Darling, I agree that’s a hokey phrase, but it bears repeating: I need you more than life itself. Don’t you laugh at me! I am professing my undying love for you although you repulse me! You went out to the theatre with Steven tonight. Do you think I found that kind and compassionate? Stop laughing at me! Stop hurting my fragile soul. I am alive. My heart beats. I am capable of weeping although you will not be privy to them. You don’t deserve to see me at my most vulnerable and tender. Shut up, you b***h! (He leaves.)

Celeste: Dreams. Goals. Daydreams. Pipe Dreams. Nightmares. Terrors. Frights. What are they? I must stand. Please let me stand.

(Knock at door.)

Celeste: The arrival. Please let it be him. (She walks to the door.)

Damon is Celeste’s Father: Hello, daughter. Your Mother is raving. I believe she is drunk. I didn’t ask her because that would require me to speak to her, acknowledge her. I can’t abide to do such a thing. My head is throbbing. I need a drink. But, where can one get a drink anymore? There is no home. There is no safe area for an old man. I married your Mother years ago. She was never lovely. I was never loved. Neither was she. It seems to explain many things, but it doesn’t. Does it? It doesn’t. Nothing is understood or complied in this exchange. I can’t even get out of it. There is nowhere else to go. Hanging on without a consolation. She is drunk. She is speaking to and at the walls. She believes they are answering her back. She has said a few thingfs about living within a dream or a nightmare, or a terror of unfathomable hideousness. It’s completely nebeulous. I am expected to stand by and accept this perfect lunacy. I can’t. Lunacy and madness and pain. Your Uncle was by earlier. He’s broke. Lend him money when he comes by. He’ll need it. I have plenty to spare, but… No. My head is throbbing. I need a drink. What is this? Susan was lovely. We were together for many years. Your Mother never knew, or she didn’t care. She never had a lover. She never wanted one. But, Susan and I were a dazzling couple in the ether of dreams. I danced with her all through the mornings and evenings and nights. We kissed. We embrace. We mad endless love. We never spoke an unkind or unnecessary word. We basked in each other’s perfection. I can’t embrace her anymore. She isn’t there. She left no calling card. She is lost in the fog like all the other loves and dreams. The sea was lovely in August. Or was it July? I forget. My mind.

Roger: She follows me. She will not leave me alone. I need to be alone. You are too emotionally taxing for me, darling. I cannot bear your burdens. I cannot save you or help you or take care of you. It is not in my world. It is part of the arrangement. Let me be. I may come back. I may be stronger later in time. Keep me in your memory. Never forget the love we might have shared had I been stronger, and less of a coward. Don’t cry, darling. Don’t cry. No, you are wonderful. You are all I have. You are all I have to cling to in this rotten world. Stop accusing me of using theatrics. I am telling you of my love and desire for you and only you. Damn you! Damn you to Hell and back! Damn you! Now I see you for who you really are, you b***h! You w***e! Leave me alone! (He leaves.)

Damon: Your Mother. She is mad. She drinks. Her name is Despair. Her name is Hopeless. Her number will soon be up, but not soon enough.

(Knock at door.)

Celeste: It must be Charlie. I need this bluebird.

(She opens door.)

Carol is Celeste’s Mother: Where is your Father? Is he here?

Damon: Your Mother is mad.

Carol: Is he here? I don’t see or smell him.

Damon: Your Mother hears voices or maybe she really hears them. I can’t be around it. I need a different view. I want to go on some sprees.

Carol: (Sits herself upon the table) I have no friends. They don’t call or write. They’re cruel like everyone else I have ever known. They are so cruel. Reginald came to me in a dream tonight. He told me I am a hag. He told me I am garbage. He told me I am loveless and sexless and awful and horrible. He told me I drain everyone of all happiness and hope. He is not a nice man. He is not a proper man. He does not carry himself or his beliefs well. I hate him very much. I wanted to murder him. I wanted to plunge a knife into him, and let him bleed out. I didn’t. it was a dream, or so I’ve been told. Someone told me. I don’t know who. Maybe they didn’t.

Celeste: Charlie. Charlie. Please come. I need you. I need a savior. I need a white horse. I need my bluebird.

Damon: Ahhhh Susan, how I adore and miss you. Come out of the fog. Fly to my frail arms. I will always be well and wonderful when you are near me.

Carol: Uriah came to pleasure me. He did not satisfy. I sent him packing. He was angry. I was angrier. I am not young or beautiful, but I deserve pleasure and happiness… I don’t care what you say. I don’t care who you are. I am not garbage. I matter. I said, I matter.

(Knock at door.)

Celeste: Finally. Charlie, don’t let me down.

Charlie: I’m in a rush. I have been in a hurry all day. I have no time for pleasantries or social graces. They are not part of my skill set. The boss with no name has kept me cooped up all day. I took an extremely long lunch, but he doesn’t need to know about that. My wife is being stubborn. I told her to accompany me, but she would not agree. I told her to follow me, or I would not return until next week. She wouldn’t budge. I have taken a hotel room for the week. I haven’t stayed in a hotel in many years. I will invite some ladies up. I know several. They love me. They call me Casanova and Apollo, and the best they ever had. Or, they say something entirely different. I don’t have much time for listening or conversation. I am a busy man. I am often in a rush. I must go. I haven’t the time fior this malingering. This is foolish nonsense. I am in a rush. (He exits.)

Celeste: Charlie.

Roger: She fled. She flung herself down upon the sea. She will fly no more.

Damon: Your Mother is mad. She is a mad dog. Very dark and desolate. I can’t. Susan….. Susan…… (He exits.)

Carol: My hands are hard. They are not clean. I have washed them, but they lack cleanliness. They are dirty and ugly… like me. Like the lot of us. Reginald was cruel. We’re all cruel. My neck is an abomination. It should be broken. It isn’t. My body isn’t a work of art. It is…… I am………. Cruelty….. (Exits.)

Celeste: I need to get dinner together.

Damon: Why did she….. where am I? Dreams upon dreams upon dreams…..

Celeste: My bluebird……

 

(The end.)