3.23.2007: The Courage of Things to Resist the Tide of Change

A tumultuous storm overtakes the stage.

The actors rush on -- Rain gear, umbrellas, sandbags, ect. A great wind whips through the space.

AN ACTOR
Where is he?!

ANOTHER ACTOR
I don’t know!!

AN ACTOR
Brace yourselves!

The actors steel themselves against a huge crash of thunder and a sudden gust of wind that knocks them around.

The actors huddle together center stage, grasping on to each other. They all face out with looks of determination, resilience, and a little bit of terror.

A sudden light shift, and they all freeze. Tableau.

The Guy emerges. Sees the tableau. Moves downstage. To the darkness:

THE GUY
What are you doing?

THE VOICE OF THE PLAYWRIGHT
What do you mean?

THE GUY
You. Are doing something. And I want to know what it is.

THE VOICE OF THE PLAYWRIGHT
I am writing a play. Today’s play. That’s what I’m doing.

THE GUY
What’s the play about?

THE VOICE OF THE PLAYWRIGHT
A moment of great and impossible Change.

THE GUY
For me?

THE VOICE OF THE PLAYWRIGHT
For us. Yes.

THE GUY
Then why am I not with them?

The Guy indicates the tableau. A tentative pause.

THE VOICE OF THE PLAYWRIGHT
I’m trying to protect you.

THE GUY
From what?

THE VOICE OF THE PLAYWRIGHT
From the Tide of Change.

THE GUY
And you’re just going to toss them out into it?

THE VOICE OF THE PLAYWRIGHT
They’re just characters. Even the ones based on real people. They’re just… composites or exaggerations or essential characteristics… but you.

You’re Me.

And for a while, in this play,
you were a guarded kind of Me.
You were Me with just enough held back to remain a fiction.

But now…
You’re giving so much
that it’s harder and harder to keep you contained
to keep things private
to keep you a fiction.

I can’t just throw you out into the storm.

Things are changing. Fast. In comes the Tide, and I can’t just write you into every danger and hope for the best.

THE GUY
That’s not fair.

THE VOICE OF THE PLAYWRIGHT
It’s self-preservation. It isn’t supposed to be fair.

THE GUY
I don’t want to be protected.

And I’m not anymore.

Because you clearly felt the need to write yourself into this play
even though you thought you’d already done that
by creating me.

You can’t hide behind me from this play forward.

Maybe I’m the storm.
The moment of great and impossible Change.
I am the Tide that’s finally coming in,

and you’re the one that thinks they need protection.

There is no response from The Voice of the Playwright. Yet, anyway.

The Guy moves to the tableau, assumes a position with them, and fixes his face into a look of steely determination.

THE GUY (cont.)
Give me the best that you’ve got.

The tumultuous storm rises again, and the tableau is brought back to life.

Gusts of wind and crashes of thunder.

But they are resolute. They stand firm. The storm cannot move them.

The lights go down.