A.S.C.E.N.S.I.O.N. or A Secret Collection of Eight Nameless but Superior Individuals and the Opposing Nations

One of two plays written during a time of personal self rediscovery. (The Nowhere Complex being the other) This one focuses more on my flickering and fading views of society at a emotionally tricky time.

“A.S.C.E.N.S.I.O.N.”

or

“A Secret Collective of Eight Nameless but Superior Individuals and the Opposing Nations”

A play

by

Trystin S. Bailey

 

CHARACTERS

1. Reister- an accomplished man in his mid-thirties. Handsome and well-dressed.

2. Kirkland- an average man in his mid-twenties.

3. Speigel- a fallen man in his mid-thirties, broken and desolate.

4. Azalea- a woman in her late twenties. Accomplished, beautiful, and well-dressed.

5. Mouse- a college sophomore, mousy and unsure

6. Nonamé- a woman of fifteen, embodying all that is dark in the world

7. Cronus- the old man who fills the water cooler

8. Gaia- the Earth Mother of Greek and Roman mythology

 

 

[notes]

The entire play takes place in a group study room of the imaginary Sherman University Joshua H. Sanders Library. The area is small, not meant to take up any more than a fraction of the stage. Up right, there is a single door through which people can come and go as they please, but no windows. The only furniture is a large table with four wooden chairs. A large plant exists in the up left corner while a water cooler sits against the back wall of the room.

 

-PLAY BEGIN-

 

ACT I

The play begins in complete blackness with Cronus entering, carrying a full water barrel. As he sings he is replacing the empty water barrel with his new one on the water cooler. The lights go up at “The clock strikes two”.

 

Cronus: (singing)

Hickory Dickory Dock,

The mouse ran up the clock

The clock struck one

The mouse came down

Hickory Dickory Dock

 

Hickory dickory dock

The bird looked at the clock

The clock struck two

Away she flew

Hickory Dickory Dock

 

Hickory Dickory Dock

The dog barked at the clock

The clock struck three

Fiddle-dee-dee,

Hickory Dickory Dock

 

At about this time the three main characters, Reister, Kirkland, and Speigel, sit at the table. Reister sits farthest from the door, Speigel sits the closest, and Kirkland is in the middle. They take their time, removing their coats and getting comfortable as Cronus does his job. Reister and Kirkland speak lightly to one another.

 

Hickory Dickory Dock

The bear slept by the clock

The clock struck four

He ran out the door

Hickory Dickory Dock

 

Hickory Dickory Dock

The bee buzzed 'round the clock

The clock struck five

She went to her hive

Hickory Dickory Dock

 

Hickory Dickory Dock

The hen pecked at the clock

The clock struck six

Oh fiddlesticks!

Hickory Dickory Dock

 

Hickory Dickory Dock

The cat ran 'round the clock

The clock struck seven

She wanted to get 'em

Hickory Dickory Dock

 

Hickory Dickory Dock

The horse jumped over the clock

The clock struck eight

He ate some cake

Hickory Dickory Dock

 

Cronus finishes his job on the last word and starts for the door

 

Reister: Well sung, Cronus.

 

Cronus: (Just noticing the others) Oh. Oh my. I'm sorry, boys. Didn't see you come in.

 

Reister: It's quite alright. You were just doing your job. Enjoying your job. That's quite the rarity nowadays.

 

Cronus: Yup. What's the use of doing anything unless you don't enjoy it? When you get as old as me there's no time to waste time 'cause you never know when you're gonna up and run out of it. You boys have a nice day. (Exits)

 

Reister: Too true, old man. Too true. (Goes to the water cooler) I'm a little thirsty. Anyone want a cup while I'm here?

 

Speigel: No.

 

Kirkland: I'll take one. (Reister pours a cup and gives it to Kirkland) Thanks. Thank you.

 

Reister: (Pours himself a cup) Don't mention it, Kirkland. Anything I can do to help. (Returns to his seat) So, what's on the agenda today, boys? (Silence)

 

Kirkland: (Raises his hand, weakly) If I...um...could possibly say something...

 

Reister: Ha. Of course. This is a meeting of friends. An open forum. Speak whenever you feel the need. Let what you feel in your mind fuel you voice.

 

Kirkland: I don't belong here.

 

Reister: Pardon me?

 

Speigel: Heh.

 

Kirkland: This place. This life isn't mine. It's...Danny's life. Danny was your friend. Your business partner. Not me. I'm just the younger brother. I'm new to the real world. It's all still a blur to me. It's all a mess of lights and sounds and symbols that I'm just learning to decipher. I'm deaf, I'm blind, I'm illiterate. I'm lost. And the both of you are- (Looks at Speigel and stops himself) It doesn't feel right.

 

Reister: Kirkland. Listen to me. I'm only going to say this once so listen good. You do belong here. You graduated top of your class at this very institution. You started your own successful Internet business by sophomore year. That's more than your brother had ever done. That's more than any of us had ever even dreamed of accomplishing when I was your age. Except maybe (looks to Speigel)... What I'm saying is that there isn't a place in this world that you belong in more than this one.

 

Kirkland: So, that's why I'm here. Because of my money. My success.

 

Reister: Not exactly. Not precisely. You see, this is more pleasure than business. This is tradition. Back when Danny, Speigel, and myself attended this university we would meet here once a week, despite our schedules which seemed to become more and more hectic with each passing semester. Our respective majors and extracurricular activities had a way of devouring our free time more often than not, as I am certain you understand. The tradition continued well after college. No matter what occurred in our personal lives we would be here. In the following years our individual stories would run parallel or violently collide but the meetings remained. When Danny died the thought crossed our mind to end it all...and then I remembered you. I remembered how much you were like your brother. Inviting you seemed like the right thing to do. As for an ulterior motive, here it is. I have a very unique offer to throw your way.

 

Kirkland: An offer?

 

Speigel: Heh.

 

Kirkland: What kind of offer?

 

Speigel: Very unique.

 

Reister: Speigel. Please. (to Kirkland) I belong to a very special group, Kirkland. One which can and will assist one on their path to dominate the economic ladder via infinite internal and external support. Networking.

 

Kirkland: Hm. I-I don't know. I'm fresh out of college. There's a whole...world...

 

Reister: Kirkland. May I ask you a question?

 

Kirkland: Sure.

 

Reister: What do you want out of your life?

 

Speigel: Oh, brother.

 

Reister: Speigel. (to Kirkland) Answer.

 

Kirkland: That's just it, Mister Holland.

 

Reister: Reister.

 

Kirkland: Reister. I don't know what I want. Yes, I have a business. Yes I'm successful...in certain ways. But I feel like there's so much more to life, you know? There is love and friendship and adventure and the sorts of satisfaction you can't receive from a heavy wallet. Sometimes I feel like I wanted to make my brother so proud that I forgot to really...I don't know...live?

 

Speigel: Hm.

 

Reister: I agree with you one hundred percent. Truer words have not been spoken. But, Kirkland, there is something to be said of stability. Of a solid future. In no way am I trying to strip you of your youth or force your hand. I am merely offering you a chance to enter a special kind of organization where success is ensured as long as you pull your own weight and all those other things- Love. Friendship. Adventure. -can be experienced in a very special way.

 

Kirkland: And...um...what exactly is this organization called?

 

Speigel: It's called The Collective, kid. And you won't have a damned thing to do with it if you know what's good for you.

 

(enters, carrying a pile of textbooks, startled by the men in the study room)

 

Mouse: Oh. Oh my. I'm sorry. I didn't hear anyone in here. Sorry. Sorry. (exits)

 

Reister: (checks his watch) This has been fun, it really has. But all good things, you know. I have a conference to attend. (to Kirkland) Think about it. (exits)

 

Lights go down. Lights come up with Reister sitting in his usual seat, some prominent article of his clothes changed. He is sitting with a cup of water. Azalea walks in, examining the area. She notices the water cooler

 

Azalea: May I...?

 

Reister: Certainly.

 

Azalea: (pours herself a cup of water) Sorry I'm late. Traffic was a b***h and a half. Broke a nail pounding my car horn. (shakes Reister's hand) Reister Holland, I presume?

 

Reister: Yes. And you are Azalea Rhodes. Please. Have a seat. (Both sit) You do know why you're here, correct?

 

Azalea: Yes. The Collective. I want in.

 

Reister: You understand that this is a very prestigious and secretive organization and the screening process is nothing short of severe.

 

Azalea: Yes. And I hope you understand that I am everything you people are looking for and then some.

 

Reister: There are only two openings.

 

Azalea: And if one of them isn't filled by me by the end of the day you'll have made a huge mistake.

 

Reister: (Smiles. Looks at some paperwork in front of him) According to these documents you graduated from Harvard University with a 4.125 and a double-concentration in business management and psychology. President of student government...started your own psychiatric television program...

 

Azalea: Syndicated in ten countries.

 

Reister: …spearheaded the building of a youth center in your Detroit birthplace...you're single.

 

Azalea: Thanks for reminding me.

 

Reister: Between you and I, Azalea, you're already in. It's just a matter of official paperwork and all that.

 

Azalea: Official paperwork for an unofficial organization. How nice. Now, Reister, tell me something about The Collective.

 

Reister: Well, we are a group of eight successful and visually pleasing individuals climbing the ladder to super-stardom in our own respective fields, ranging from politics and criminology to philosophy (Azalea sneers at “philosophy”) and science. Recently, we had hoped to expand the number to ten. Two more females to even out the sexes. But, around this time, we unexpectedly lost two of our members and merely want to return to our original number.

 

Azalea: Ah. And where is this organization's home base?

 

Reister: About thirty miles north, in the mountains. We all reside in a mansion there.

 

Azalea: A mansion. All of you?

 

Reister: Yes. It's a beautiful place. 2,000 acres of land. Completely detached from the rest of society. (clears his throat) As a part of the Collective we all act as a marriage of money, ideas, and bodies. We eat, sleep, and experience certain pleasures as one. We are all husbands and wives, married to one another under the grace of our god, Common Interest. It is a glorious oneness, a feeling of completion, that one simply cannot find in the outside world.

 

Azalea: Hm. A group of the rich and beautiful indulging in nightly orgies and parties. Sounds kinky...and a little odd to this homespun Christian girl.

 

Reister: (allows her words to slide off of him) You can have as long as you need to think about it and even if you say “no” there is still a...need for you. (Checks his watch) Hm. I'm sorry but I'm going to have to bring this meeting to a close. You see, a group of friends, myself included, meet here every week. They'll be here shortly. You have a nice day.

 

Azalea drinks some water and the lights go down. When the lights come up Reister and Speigel sit in their regular seats

 

Speigel: Reister.

 

Reister: What is it?

 

Speigel: Think you could lend me a few bucks? I'll pay you back by the end of the month. I'm good for it. You know I'm good for it.

 

Reister: Speigel...

 

Speigel: Just a couple hundred. Four or five. That's it this time. I'm trying to get back on my feet, you know. And I'm doing it for me this time. And I'm going to do it right.

 

Reister: Don't lie to me. I'm no idiot. I'm not one of those worthless users you surround yourself with outside of this room. I know the second I give you a penny you'll sniff around the streets for a dealer who'll let you lick the heroine off the tip of their syringe for it. Look at yourself. You're pathetic, you know that? That's what you are. It's something I've wanted to say to your for a while now. The way you stroll in here, mumbling nonsense to yourself, wearing the same rum-stenched clothes you had on for the past five days. I think about what you used to be and I get sick. I want to vomit for you. All over my three hundred dollar shoes I want to throw up all the waste you've collected and sweep it into a plastic bag and hand it to you. So you can collapse under the weight of your-

 

Speigel: Shut up. Shut the f**k up you elitist little b***h. You suit tie-wearing...

 

Kirkland enters and the other two fall immediately silent. Kirkland takes a drink of water and sits down

 

Kirkland: Hi, guys. How was your week?

 

Speigel: Great.

 

Reister: Wonderful. Amazing.

 

Kirkland: Amazing. How so?

 

Reister: Glad you asked. I recently interviewed a highly impressive prospective member of The Collective.

 

Speigel: So easily replaced...

 

Reister: Her name is Azalea. Like the flower. Synonymous with beauty and growth. I think you and she would really...hit it off.

 

Kirkland: Sounds...amazing.

 

Reister: Perfect.

 

Kirkland: Perfect then.

 

Speigel: Nothing is perfect.

 

Reister: Damnit, Speigel.

 

Speigel: Nothing is perfect. It's a fact of life.

 

Reister: Your pessimism is unwelcome.

 

Kirkland: He's right, though. Nothing is perfect. Everything has it's flaws, but God.

 

Speigel: God has flaws. Like giving us free will for one.

 

Kirkland: I'll have to disagree. Free will is a gift. It's our decision whether we use it for good or evil. Not God's.

 

Speigel: But God gave it to us. And if God knows everything, he knew free will would blow up in all of our faces. Nothing is perfect.

 

Reister: (eager to maintain control) Do you see this? Do you? The beginnings of an intellectual debate. The opposing minds prepared to stand up for their beliefs. This is what these meetings are about. This is what The Collective is about. This is perfection.

 

Speigel: Oh brother.

 

Mouse: (stumbling in, balancing a pile of books in her hand) Oh. Sorry. Very sorry. (exits)

 

Fade to black and fade in to Reister circling the table, a cup of water in hand. He is pacing around Nonamé, who has no desire to be in her current location

 

Reister: Nonamé. (pause) Nonamé. (longer pause) Damnit, girl, why won't you listen to me? Why can't you make this simple for us?

 

Nonamé: Because it's not simple.

 

Reister: Well, it can be. Just let us help you.

 

Nonamé: F**k you.

 

Reister: Look, Nonamé-

 

Nonamé: I want to die.

 

Reister: What?

 

Nonamé: You heard me, father. I'm tired of this. I'm tired of not knowing who I am.

 

Reister: You are my daughter. You are privileged. Everything you could've ever wanted in life is yours.

 

Nonamé: Everything except an identity. You may be satisfied with a life void of any sort of individuality or uniqueness but I need more. I need to know the sorts of things everyone should now. I need to know where I came from. Who I came from.

 

Reister: You know I am unable to share the information you seek with you. It stands in firm opposition to The Collective.

 

Nonamé: Until I know what I need to know I will want death over life. I will crave it day in and day out. Razorblade dreams will fill my sleep. My dream self will take a swim in the river of blood that flows down my invisible arm. And when the river runs dry and drought ravages your once fertile world I will at last be happy...father.

 

Reister: (Pause) The Collective has decided that you need help beyond even our realm of capability. This insufferable pessimism you've acquired has been poisoning the morale of your parents, your siblings, like a plague. Reason no longer seems to sway you. (Dials a number into his cell phone) Hello, Azalea. It's Reister. I need to schedule an appointment for my daughter.

 

Fade to black. Fade in to Reister and Kirkland sitting at the table. Both drinking a cup of water

 

Reister: How was your week, Kirkland?

 

Kirkland: Can't complain, really. Paperwork. Phone calls. Nothing incredible. Yours?

 

Reister: Honestly, I've had better.

 

Kirkland: What's wrong?

 

Reister: Domestic issues. That's all. It should be under control soon though. Very soon.

 

Kirkland: Well, that's good.

 

Reister: Indeed. And...I'd rather you didn't mention my having troubles to Speigel if you don't mind.

 

Kirkland: Of course.

 

Reister: Thank you. So...have you given my offer any more thought?

 

Kirkland: Oh. Yes. A lot, actually. It was the last thing on my mind before I fell asleep last night. I had the strangest dream.

 

Reister: A dream?

 

Kirkland: Yes. It was quite strange. You see, it started off in this room. You and Speigel and I were talking as usual. Something about the stock market, I think. And then everything disappeared. Everything except the three of us. A ring of fire rose around us, getting closer and closer. Speigel was the first to be devoured by the flame. He shrieked in pain for what seemed like hours until he finally disappeared into the blazing light. You were the next to be touched by the flame, but you entered willingly, melting into the fire. Becoming one with it. And then the ring became eight pillars, roaring to the black sky, still closing in on me. There was nowhere to run. I wasn't even sure if I wanted to run. But the second I would have been touched by the pillars everything went black for a moment and I found myself sitting on a white sandy beach, alone. Above me was the most beautiful night sky, covered in a blanket of a million stars. The ocean crawled onto the sand, reaching to the tips of my bare toes, and I suddenly felt renewed. Refreshed. So, without hesitation, I took off my shirt and my pants and dived into the great blue sea. It was...perfect.

 

Speigel creeps in, wordless, and takes his seat. He seems more of a wreck than usual. Drunk.

 

Reister: Interesting things, dreams. No base in factual reality, but interesting nonetheless.

 

Kirkland: Hello, Speigel.

 

Speigel: Hey, kid.

 

Kirkland: Are you...

 

Reister: He's fine. So, where were we?

 

Kirkland: I-

 

Reister: The offer. Yes. So. What do you say?

 

Speigel: Don't do it, kid.

 

Reister: Speigel. Please. We are in the middle of something. Be quiet.

 

Speigel: Hey. You can't treat me like some sort of child. I'm not a child. I'm a grown man.

 

Reister: Well, perhaps I wouldn't be inclined to make such a mistake if you would act like one. When I think of what you used to be...

 

Speigel: Shut up! Shutupshutupshutupshutup...

 

Reister: You're drunk.

 

Speigel: I...am not...drunk.

 

Kirkland: Is he alright?

 

Reister: He hasn't been alright in five years. Just...get him some water.

 

Kirkland fills a cup of water and takes it to Speigel.

 

Speigel: (takes a sip) (to Kirkland) Don't do it, kid. Stay away.

 

Reister: Will you please just...shut up.

 

Kirkland: Reister...

 

Reister: (fed up) For the past five years I've had to deal with your s**t. When everyone else abandoned you I have continued to stick by your side because I hung on to some worthless hope that you could somehow return to the way you used to be.

 

Speigel: Bull! You n' I both know the reason I'm even a bleep on your radar is because you promised Danny you'd look after me.

 

Kirkland: Danny...

 

Speigel: You're brother was a great man, kid. Great human being. Always putting others ahead of himself. He's the reason I joined The Collective five years ago. Things were different when he was a part. Better.

 

Reister: (ignoring the other) What will it be, Kirk? Make your brother proud?

 

Speigel: Now it's lost its soul. Reister's lost his soul, too.

 

Reister: The only one lost here is you. You're pathetic. So much promise in you. You were supposed to lead us, but it all crashed down when...she died.

 

Speigel: Don't, Reister.

 

Reister: Ever since our wife died you've been a wreck.

 

Speigel: SHE WAS MY WIFE! And...and it was more than that.

 

Reister: You're right. It was her death and your detestable weakness. She's dead. Get over it.

 

Speigel: (rises to his feet) I don't have to stand for this. I don't. I'm leaving this...this cage and I'm not looking back.

 

Reister: That's right. Leave. Run away from the truth and find your own at the bottom of a bottle or the end of a syringe. Go! (Speigel exits) (to Kirkland) I'm sorry you had to see that. Sometimes a bit of tough love is the only love, eh?

 

Kirkland: I...guess.

 

Reister: Right. So...your answer.

 

Kirkland: Yes. That. Well...I'm going to have to-

 

Reister: (cell phone rings. He answers) Hello? Yes. Not far. Okay. I'll be right there.

 

Kirkland: Is everything okay?

 

Reister: It's fine. Fine. Something has come to my attention that needs to be dealt with immediately. (Exits)

 

After a moment, Mouse enters, flustered with her normal pile of books.

 

Mouse: Oh. Oh my. I'm sorry. I saw the other two leaving so I thought-

 

Kirkland: No. You're fine. I was just about to go. Have a seat.

 

Mouse: (She sits across from Kirkland) Th-thank you.

 

Kirkland: You seem a little...flustered. Can I get you some water or-

 

Mouse: No. You don't have to-

 

Kirkland: It's really no trouble. (starts to pour a cup of water)

 

Mouse: (pause) Are you sure?

 

Kirkland: (gives cup to Mouse) Here you go.

 

Mouse: Thank you. I'm just...finals are coming and...I've been studying so hard, but...

 

Kirkland: Hey. Breathe. (Sits down beside her) What are you studying?

 

Mouse: Advanced Management Techniques.

 

Kirkland: AMT, eh? I happen to know a thing or two.

 

Mouse: I've got the basic concept, I think. It's just the wording on some of the later theories are a bit hard to understand.

 

Kirkland: I know what you mean.

 

Mouse: (Mouse and Kirkland flip through the pages of a few books. Mouse begins to examine Kirkland's face) Do...do I know you from somewhere?

 

Kirkland: Maybe. I just graduated from here last June.

 

Mouse: (recognizes Kirkland) T.J. Kirkland? You were the president of the Future Business Club. All the teacher's still talk about you.

 

Kirkland: Really?

 

Mouse: Really. You made quite an impact on this school. I bet you're doing the same thing to the rest of the world.

 

Kirkland: (smiles to himself) So. Big test coming up?

 

Mouse: Tomorrow, actually.

 

Kirkland: Well, the rest of my day's pretty open if you want a study buddy.

 

Mouse: No, I couldn't...

 

Kirkland: It's my pleasure. No problem. Really. How about we do this somewhere less...cramped? The lounge down the street. We'll crack these theories. Coffee's on me.

 

Mouse: Um...sure. I'm Gabrielle, by the way. But everyone calls me Mouse because I'm always busy, scurrying around.

 

Kirkland: Well, Gabrielle, it's nice to meet you. Let's get out of here. I'm getting tired of this old room.

 

Fade to black. Fade in to dim lights. Azalea and Nonamé are sitting on opposite ends of the table, facing one another.

 

Azalea: Do you know why we're here?

 

Nonamé: So you can brainwash me into being a mindless lemming to white-bread society like my...like Reister.

 

Azalea: Wrong. Though that may be more or less a paraphrasing of Reister's instructions to me I have come here to figure out what it is you want and assist you in achieving it. So, Nonamé, tell me, what do you want?

 

Nonamé: (pause) I want freedom. I want to understand who I am and where I come from. I want to be more than a cookie-cutter part of some life where uniqueness is suppressed and only a zombie-like cooperation is accepted.

 

Azalea: I assume you're talking about The Collective.

 

Nonamé: Of course I'm talking about The f*****g Collective. You have no idea what it's like to be a part of it. All six of them, spending half the day ruling the corporate world and the other going on and on about how rich and powerful they are. We're forced to eat together, go on vacations and company picnics together. The six sleep together. F**k together. (pause) I don't even know who my real parents are. They won't tell me. They say it promotes separation amongst the collective. They say it'll lead to fissures. The other children of The Collective accept this. They're fine. But I'm not. I know there's more to life. I know that they're so much more to me than they'll ever allow me to discover. (pause) I want to discover me. How can I live without a life of my own?

 

Azalea: (pause) Then go.

 

Nonamé: What?

 

Azalea: Everyone deserves to know what you want to know so go.

 

Nonamé: But I'm...I'm fifteen.

 

Azalea: Then I'll help. Get up. Go to my car. Reister isn't coming back for another hour. I've got a lot of friends in the medical world. We'll do a little snooping before your ride gets here. (exit with Nonamé)

 

Fade to black and fade in to dimmed lights. Reister is pacing back and forth behind the table, extremely distraught. There is a crumbled paper cup in the center of the table. Reister is interrupted by the silent arrival of Azalea.

 

Reister: You.

 

Azalea: Reister. I imagine you've heard the news.

 

Reister: I heard. So...suicide. Just like she'd always threatened.

 

Azalea: She threw herself off a bridge. Onto a highway. During rush hour. It was quite the mess.

 

Reister: I know. PR has been working around the clock to spin this one. It's been Hell.

 

Azalea: She's dead.

 

Reister: I'm well aware. And now I have to clean it up. She should've listened to me. She should've been satisfied with the wonderful life she'd been given.

 

Azalea: You should've been more open to her feelings.

 

Reister: You should've done what I told you to instead of filling her head with nonsense ideas. I made it very clear what I wanted to and supplied you with the sort of payment a psychiatrist could only dream of. The blood is on your hands. Not mine.

 

Azalea: It took a lot of work, but we were able to find a copy of her birth certificate. (she pulls out a folded piece of paper and throws it in front of Reister on the table) In case you're interested.

 

Reister: I'm not.

 

Azalea: She called me from the bridge, right before she jumped. She told me that she went home with her new knowledge but everyone ignored her. She screamed and shouted to the high heavens and you all pretended she wasn't in the room.

 

Reister: I know.

 

Azalea: She screamed and she screamed until she could barely speak anymore. She started to break things-

 

Reister: I know.

 

Azalea: -but no one even glanced in her direction. Of all the people, all of her parents, not a single one gave her a glance.

 

Reister: I know! I was there. I know.

 

Azalea: I tried to talk her out of it but the way she sounded it was as if she'd had her mind made up for years. (pause) I hope you're happy with your life, you f*****g sociopath. I'll have to decline your offer, by the way. (exit)

 

(Kirkland and Mouse scurry in, genuinely happy)

 

Kirkland: Good afternoon, Reister!

 

Reister: (doing an amazing job at hiding any negative emotions) Hey there, Kirkland. I see you've brought a friend.

 

Kirkland: Oh. Yes. This is Gabrielle. The girl who has a knack for barging in on our meetings.

 

Reister: Yes. I remember.

 

Kirkland: We met last week have pretty much been together ever since. She's really smart. Lots of potential. Her mind is definitely tuned for business. Very impressive if I do say so myself. And, in case you haven't noticed, she's beautiful. (he and Mouse kiss quickly) So, I was thinking, maybe she and I could join The Collective as a pair. I promise you you wouldn't regret it. That is, if the offer's still open.

 

Speigel enters the room, cleaner than any time previously, but still nowhere near the level of Kirkland and especially Reister.

 

Speigel: I can't stay here for long because I have a number of important things to do. Namely, adding order to my life. Sharon's death affected me in a way I never thought anything could. She was my everything. We entered The Collective as one and I just assumed we'd stand side by side for the remainder of our run. The cancer took everyone by surprise. And the road that followed was long and painful. I sat at her bedside day and night neglecting my duties to my business and myself. By the time she died I had gone as well. The Collective was quick to replace me. I was alone. Desperate. Pathetic. I sprinted head-first into the darkness of a broken existence, drowning my sorrow any way I knew. But not three days ago I had an epiphany. All the hatred, all the contempt in my life for my life, was due to the fact that I had nothing...even while Sharon was in my life there was really nothing more. That's what The Collective is. They are a group of people so empty, so alone, that they focus on the lesser things in life. Things like money, power, and beauty. It's sad, really. (to Reister) And my fate is just a breath away from all of you. If only I'd had more meaning to my life. A set of goals. A set of dreams. (pause) A child to call my own. (there is an extended period of silence where Reister softly pokes at the folded piece of paper) So, I'm going to go now and never return to this room in this library in this college. I'm going to leave all of you behind and look inside myself and live and dream to the best of my individual ability. Goodbye. (exit)

 

Awkward silence.

 

Kirkland: Reister...

 

Reister: No. No offer. It's over. Go. The both of you. Forget about me. Forget about this room. Just. Go.

 

Kirkland: (pause) But...

 

Reister: (shoots Kirkland a heavy glare)Get. Out.

 

Kirkland: Okay then. Come on, Gabrielle. (he and Gabrielle exit)

 

Reister sits, holding the paper, and Gaia walks in and begins to replace the now-empty water barrel.

 

Reister: Hey. What happened to Cronus?

 

Gaia: The old man used to do this? He died about a month ago.

 

Reister: Oh.

 

Gaia: My name's Gaia. I'll be doing his job from now on.

 

Reister: I'm Reister.

 

Gaia: Nice to meet you Reister. (finishes) Be seeing you 'round?

 

Reister: (pause) I don't know. Maybe.

 

Gaia: Well, if I see ya again, good. If I don't, that's good too. Means you're out in the world doing something with your life other than sittin' in here while the world spins round without you. You know, sometimes the world spins so fast that you enter a room for one minute and when you leave you're in a place altogether different than the one you left.

 

Reister: Hm.

 

Gaia: I'll leave you to your thoughts. (exits)

 

Reister sits alone. As the lights slowly fades he unfolds the paper, examines it, and lowers his head onto the table. Black.

 

end.