WAIT

By Namble Beckinshiver

ACT I

Nathan

Huey

Ted

A voice in the ceiling

A coffee shop. A table.

Nathan sits on a chair in front of a coffee table, bending down, trying to take off his boot. He pulls at it with both hands, panting. He gives up, exhausted, rests, tries again. Huey , on the other side of the table, sits typing on a laptop computer. Huey looks toward Nathan 's chair, then back to his computer.

Enter Ted , holding a cup of coffee, walking up to the table, standing in front of it for a moment. Confused, unrecognized, he turns around and walks away.

Nathan : (giving up again) . Nothing to be done.

Huey : ( again looking up ). I'm beginning to come round to that opinion. All my life I've tried to put it from me, saying Huey, be reasonable, you haven't yet tried everything. And I resumed the struggle. (He broods, musing on the struggle, rubbing his head thoughtfully, looking toward the ceiling. Turning back to Nathan .) So there you are again.

Nathan : What?

Huey : I'm glad you're here. I thought I had lost you forever.

Nathan : Me too.

Huey : Together again at last! We'll have to celebrate this. But how? (He reflects.) Get up and I'll embrace you.

Nathan : (irritably) Not now, not now. Besides, I never left. I'm here - we're here, my friend - together, forever. No matter what. (smiles wanly, looks back down at his boot)

Huey : (hurt, saddened) I sometimes forget. May one inquire where His Highness spent the night?

Nathan : In a ditch.

Huey : (admiringly) . A ditch! Where?

Nathan : (without gesture) . Over there.

Huey : And they didn't beat you?

Nathan : Beat me? Certainly they beat me.

Huey : The same lot as usual?

Nathan : The same? I don't know.

Huey : (ignoring Nathan , speaking inwardly) When I think of it. all these years... with so many more ahead... it's endless; it's eternal. where would you be... (Decisively) You'd be nothing more than a little heap of bones at the present minute! No, sir, you'd be-

Ted : (interrupting) Excuse me.

Huey : (to Nathan ) Nigglet, do you smell something?

Nathan : Me? (sniffing the air) I smell. repentance.

Huey : Ah.

Nathan : Yes, repentance.

Huey : I smell. (sniffs three times) I smell. estrogen.

Nathan : I smell diversity.

Huey : Yes, yes. The smell, it's. (sniffs three times) stale, it's. (three more sniffs) mixed. integrated, it's. like nothing I've ever smelt before, it's-

Ted : (tapping Huey on the shoulder) Excuse me.

Huey : (Pause. Looking up at Ted ) And what of it? May I help you?

Ted : I, uh. I'm new here. ( Huey continues staring up at Ted , says nothing; Nathan looks up for a moment, then stares back down at his boots, dejec ted ) I was, uh. I was told to see. (reaches into his pocket, pulls out a piece of paper, looks at it) . Huey Newton .

Huey : (suspicious, then aware, cheerful) Oh, yes! Nathan , look! It's him! (To Ted ) We've been waiting so long! Come, grab a chair! Sit, sit!

Nathan : (gloomily, ignoring Ted and Nathan , still staring at his boot) . It's too much for one man. (Pause. Cheerfully. Talking to no one.) On the other hand what's the good of losing heart now, that's what I say-

Huey : Stop blathering!

Nathan : It's you who's blathering! (reaching down again, tugging at his boot) Nathan , do you remember when we stood hand in hand at the apex of Sheol, among the first of our kind? We were respectable in those days - alone, connected, before all this (he looks around him, then looks down again, tugs harder at his boot) . Now it's too late. They won't even let us up, won't let us in... ( Ted , watching Nathan 's struggle, trying to be helpful, gets on his knees, reaches for Nathan 's boot. To Ted ) Yes, please help me!

Huey : Is that really necessary?

Nathan : Boots must be taken off every day; I'm tired telling you that. Why don't you listen to me?

Huey : Does it hurt?

Nathan : (angrily, to Ted ) . Hurts! He wants to know if it hurts!

Huey : (angrily) . No one ever suffers but you. I don't count. I'd like to hear what you'd say if you had what I have.

Nathan : (feebly) Help me! ( Ted holds Nathan 's boot, steadies himself on Nathan 's chair) Oh, how nice of you. Thank you, thank you. Are you ready? When I count three, pull. Ready? One, two. three ( Ted pulls back hard; the boot flies from Nathan 's foot; Ted falls clumsily backward, somersaults, lands on his stomach) . Oh dear! Are you alright?

Ted : (stands, hands Nathan his boot) Yes, fine.

Nathan : Are you sure you're alright?

Ted : Yes.

Nathan : (to Huey ) I told you he was a savior.

Huey : Ha! (inwardly) More like scapegoat.

Nathan : You hush!

Ted : (concerned) Scapegoat for what?

Huey : It's just a word.

Ted : Yes, but-

Nathan : (angrily) It doesn't concern you!

Ted : But he said-

Nathan : (lifting his leg, farting loudly)

Huey : (to Ted , smiling) How can I help you?

Ted : (Looks at Nathan , then at Huey ) I'm not sure.

Huey : Not sure. hm. (aside, to Nathan ) I told you he was gay.

Nathan : (aghast) No!

Ted : (confused, angry) Now wait one second!

Huey : Oh, look. He's angry! How cute!

Ted : (very angry, moving in forcefully toward Huey ) Nobody calls me-

Huey : (stands, pulls a semiautomatic pistol from his pocket, forces it into Ted 's mouth, cocks the trigger. Gently, he says) Shhh. sit, please. Take my chair. ( Huey takes the pistol from Ted 's mouth; Ted , terrified, sits slowly; Huey sits on the ground in front of him, still aiming the pistol at Ted ) . Don't you want to know why you're here?

Ted : (embarrassed, sheepish) I. I don't know.

Huey : (to Ted ) Ask me why you're here.

Ted : (pauses) Uh. why am I here?

Huey : I don't know.

Nathan : Ha!

Ted : (enraged, standing) What the -

Huey : (pulling the trigger, Huey shoots Ted in the forehead; Ted falls back in his chair. There's a hole in his head, but no blood spills. Ted blinks rapidly, dazed)

Ted : (puts his hand to his head, touches it, looks at his hand, pitifully confused, thinking, shaking his head. Calmly) Ouch.

Huey : (puts his gun down in front of him) Now, Ted , ask me, one more time - and this time with feeling - why you're here.

Ted : (completely freaked out) .You just. I should be-

Nathan : (gently, smiling knowingly) Shhh. Just ask him again.

Ted : (staring hard at Huey . Deliberately) Where am I?

Huey : You're here, relaxing, enjoying the ride-

Ted : No, but-

Huey : (holds his hand up to silence Ted ) -waiting here for an end, taking pleasure in the presence of others. You should come to peace with yourself. It's good for race relations.

Nathan : Indeed!

Ted : Yeah, but I'm still waiting here. for something. What am I-

Huey : (to Nathan ) They never change, do they, Ofay? They always want an explanation.

Nathan : And hey always will.

Huey : Forever.

Nathan : And then never.

Huey : Ever.

Nathan : I love you.

Huey : I love you, too.

Ted : (exaspera ted ) Please!

Huey : Oh, yes. You. Here?

Ted : This is ridiculous. It just-

Huey : Never ends.

Ted : What?

Huey : It just. never. ends.

Ted : What?

Huey : (to Ted ) Do you remember the last supper?

Ted : What?

Huey : Do you remember it?

Ted : What? You mean.

Huey : (turning to Nathan ) How's your foot?

Nathan : (weakly, pathetically) It hurts!

Huey : Existence is pain, Cotton-picker.

Nathan : (examining his foot) . I'll air it for a bit.

Huey : Yes, do.

Ted : (breaking back in) So, uh. what's going on?

Nathan : Never mind that! (to Huey ) Story! Tell us a story!

Huey : Oh. (bashful) I can't.

Nathan : (suddenly playful, smiling) Please, please!

Huey : I suppose I could.

Nathan : Yes, yes! You must!

Huey : (grinning, giving in) Oh. alright .

Nathan : Yay!

Huey : Well (pausing) Is everyone listening?

Nathan : (exci ted ly) Yes!

Huey : (clears his throat. Speaks quickly, grinning) Once upon a time a generally calculated white man who fathered 9 illegitimate children of different races - never taking monetary or personal responsibility for one - finally snapped and killed the one black woman he encountered who didn't fear him. He didn't completely lose his mind, but used race as his alibi in the murder. Then, one day, driving to work, he went through a red light and was hit by a garbage truck. The end.

Nathan : (frowning) Boo!

Huey : Indeed.

Nathan : That man in your story. he must be damned! Is there no mercy!?

Ted : (in disbelief, ashamed, eyes closed) .Jesus.

Nathan : Ha!

Huey : Ha ha! (to Ted ) Do you have a story for us?

Ted : Uh. no.

Huey : You must have something to say. For all that you've done?

Ted : (pause) Would it help move things along?

Nathan : Certainly. Definitely.

Huey : Indeed.

Ted : Are you sure?

Huey : Yes.

Nathan : Yes.

Ted : I don't know what to say.

Huey : That's fine. Say anything.

Ted : Hmm. How about. Oh. (shrugs) I've got nothing to say.

Nathan : Good.

Huey : Good.

Ted : I guess I could.

Huey : No, that won't be necessary.

Nathan : (To Huey ) You should-

Huey : I'll tell another tale, yes.

Nathan : Yes, please.

Huey : (stands) Are you ready? Is everybody looking at me? (He looks at the ceiling, cracks his neck left, then right, notices Ted looking at the ceiling with him.) Will you look at me, please ! ( Nathan looks at him.) Good. (He pulls a can of Banaca out of his pocket, sprays his throat, puts the Banaca back in his pocket, clears his throat, spits, takes out the Banaca again, sprays his throat again, puts back the Banaca in his pocket.) I'm ready. Is everybody listening? Is everybody ready? I don't like talking in a vacuum. (looks at Ted , then at Nathan . Pause) Good. Let me see. (he reflects, sits on the ground)

Nathan : I'm leaving. (doesn't move)

Huey : (to Ted ) What was it exactly you wanted to know?

Nathan : Why he-

Huey : (angrily) . Don't interrupt me! (Pauses. Calmer.) If we all speak at once we'll never get anywhere. (Pauses.) What was I saying? (Pauses. Louder.) What was I saying? ( Nathan mimics wiping tears from his eyes. Huey looks at him, puzzled.)

Nathan : You want to get rid of him?

Huey : In time, yes.

Nathan : He is a racist.

Ted : (incensed) How do you know that?

Huey : (to Nathan ) He wants to con me, but he won't. And he won't escape.

Nathan : You're so. oh, what's the word.

Huey : Informed?

Nathan : No.

Huey : Beautiful?

Nathan : Close, but. no. ( Ted yawns)

Huey : In touch with Ted 's fate? In tune with the nature of evil? ( Ted squirms)

Nathan : Yes. But no. I sure am tired.

Huey : Yes, me too.

Nathan : (yawns) I could use a nap. (closes his eyes)

Huey : (reflecting) Oh! I just remembered something!

Nathan : (opening his eyes suddenly) Do tell!

Huey : (bashfully) It's something I remembered from. something I read.

Nathan : What was it?

Huey : There's no need to explain. It's about a man I once knew (Clears his throat, stands again, speaks to Ted ) I'm quoting. someone old and great (clears his throat) Are you ready? Are you listening?

Ted and Nathan : Yes.

Huey : Okay (stretches his neck) Okay. (stretches his legs, rotates his shoulders) Ready?

Ted and Nathan : (agitated) Yes!

Huey : (quietly) Here, (pauses) freedom comes through the realization that there is no escape. no possibility for revolution. A man once said he had seen visions of Benito Mussolini and Bob Ross telling him to calm himself, work on his needlepoint, bake a cake, work on improving his key flow, chakra, encouraging him to breathe from within. ( Huey yawns) I'm tired. (pauses) His head was filled with visions depicting Satan evangelizing, saying the best way to promote peace is through understanding. Hatred is best combined with fear, he said, while cowardice is purely painful. ( Huey snorts, coughs, pauses, yawns) He lived on. More people passed. The air he breathed began capturing more sound. He was here, my friend, then there. Noises grew louder, swelled, swelled, from a distance, died off. Souls whirred by - motion was a sedative. He sipped. He read. He heard. (yawns) He listened to the sound of a rambler's ramble in his head, dreaded the sonata's end; his thoughts went to treason and despair; the music died, became voices in the air - cries of misconceptualists serving watermelons on a racial platter. (louder, more emphatic) Rambling! Coo-coo! He imagined fate, vision, love, death; he sought spirits to save him and an end to all things. (slower, calmer) I am the Eggman, he said. There was meaning in a glass of Conac and a lonely stroll at dusk. The Man continued: I tried my best to love you all, you hypocrites and whores. Then he closed his mind, imagined propaganda. (growing very tired) red flags and smoke. (yawns) a throne and inner-child abortion. chains. a flight toward heaven. (his eyes begin to close) looking, thinking, (his voice slows) looking again. and waiting. waiting. waiting and. ( Huey collapses to the ground) I think I need to. (he lies down, falls asleep, begins snoring)

Ted : (looks at Nathan , who has also fallen asleep)

Moments pass as Ted looks around him, then at the sleeping men. Huey is on the floor with his hand loosely draped over his gun; Nathan is hunched forward in his chair with his head on the table. Snoring is the only sound Ted hears. It's peaceful in the room - calm. Ted sits back in his chair and assesses the shop - there's no one in it. He and the sleeping men are alone. Here, Ted , for a moment, considers waking the men, but decides not to; he's fearful of what they'll say next, what they'll ask him. He thinks he's found an opportunity to exit. Quietly, slowly, he stands, trying not to wake them, and begins walking toward the shop's closed entrance, which he doesn't remember entering. Just before he gets to the door, he looks back at the men; he'd like to have Huey 's pistol. He tiptoes back toward them carefully, making as little noise as possible, holding his breath. He gently reaches toward Huey 's hand. But right before he touches it, the sound of a bell rings three times, loudly from a speaker in the ceiling. Huey and Nathan wake with a start, speak in unison:

Huey : (absently grabbing the gun, confused) I didn't touch him!

Nathan : Bigotry! Hate!

The three stare at each other expectantly. A voice speaks though the speaker:

VOICE IN THE CEILING: Time to immerse. (three more rings) Time to immerse.

Huey and Nathan : Oh, no. (they stand; Huey shuts his laptop, quickly unplugs it from the wall, tucks the laptop under his arm and the cord into his hip pocket)

Ted : (confused) What the hell was that?

Nathan : (in haste, grabbing his boot) It came earlier than I expected.

Huey : I thought it would never come (he finishes packing; Huey and Nathan walk away briskly)

Ted : (begins to stand) Hey, wait! (before Ted can follow the men, the lights go out and we hear Ted yelling, struggling in the darkness) Hey! Let me go! (Then the lights come back on. Ted looks down and realizes he's chained to his chair. He smells sawdust, coffee, spoiled milk and sulfur. He looks around him, realizes he's completely alone) Hello? (Silence. Ted tries briefly to shake himself loose, but the metal chains around his ankles, waist and wrists won't let him budge. He jerks his head from side to side, struggles, growls, then stops. He looks back and forth with his eyes. He hears nothing - complete silence. Quietly, he says) Hello? (nothing, for a full minute, where he begins to think he's hearing occasional creaking noises, heavy things slamming in the distance, dogs barking and what sounds to him like a bonfire. But he dismisses the noises - believes his mind is playing games with him. He's sweating, sporadically jerking his body pointlessly until he hears a click coming from the speaker in the ceiling, which causes him to stop and sit completely frozen in anticipation. There's silence for seconds before he hears a needle scratch, then the grainy sound of a record starting before the opening bars of Frank Sinatra's "Strangers in the Night." He screams) AHHHHHHHH! GET ME THE FUCK OUT OF HERE! (when Sinatra's voice enters the song. The track plays through the lyrics: "Something in your eyes was so inviting / Something in your smile was so exciting / Something in my heart / Told me I must have you," before it begins to slow, gradually slows more, very gradually until it's reduced to a low growl, almost inaudible when the lights go out again. We hear a match being lit, and Ted beginning to cry, suppressing sobs. He screams - louder this time) AHHHHHHHHHHH! (but he stops when the lights go back on and he realizes that, before him, Huey is kneeling and Nathan is standing. They're both smoking cigarettes)

Huey : (to Ted ) Hey there.

Nathan : Hi.

Ted : (crying weakly, sobbing) What do you want from me?

Huey : (holds his fist in front of Ted , palm up. He opens his hand, revealing a black capsule and a white pill in his palm. Sternly) The black pill makes you dance; the white pill makes you talk. at length, forever.

Ted : What?

Huey : Ha ha.

Nathan : Ha ha.

Huey : Would've been funnier with a fried chicken leg and a Belgian waffle, but.

Ted : (demanding) What is this? What's going on?

Nathan : (to Huey , teasingly) You must repent!

Huey : Ha! Repent what?

Nathan : Oh... (He reflects.) You wouldn't have to go into the details.

Ted : (horrified, yelling) What's going on! (louder. Screaming into the air) Help me! Get me out of here!

Huey : (ignoring Ted ) Shall I repent my being born? ( Nathan breaks into a hearty laugh which he immediately stifles, his hand pressed to his pubis, his face contor ted .)

Nathan : One daren't even laugh any more.

Ted : (terrified, sweating, crying) Help! Help!

Huey : Dreadful privation.

Nathan : Merely smile. (He smiles suddenly from ear to ear, keeps smiling, ceases as suddenly.) It's not the same thing. Nothing to be done.

Ted : HELP! (terrified, sweating, crying) HELP!

Huey : (irritably, to Ted ) . What is wrong with you? Calm down.

Ted : (screaming) SOMEBODY HELP ME!

Nathan : (takes a drag from his cigarette) Ted , shh.

The lights go out as Nathan exhales; they come back on after black moments filled with Ted 's tortured sniveling. The shop is empty, but the ground rumbles slightly, barely enough to move a few tables; a sound like an earthquake can be heard. Then it stops. Ted is breathing heavily, looking around him, eyes wide, petrified. A minute passes, with Ted making pathetically futile attempts to break free. He gives up and closes his eyes. Tears fall. He opens them again when the front door of the shop swings open and a man walks in - white, middle aged, bald, average height, average weight, no facial hair, wearing a black suit and shows, white shirt and tie. He walks up to Ted , says nothing.

Ted : (pleading, frantic, struggling) You gotta help me! These fucking lunatics, they just-

Random White Man : (monotone, ignoring Ted 's words but speaking to him) I'm sorry that being American is the opposite of being white. I'm sorry that whites will eventually become a minority of the population. (takes one step to his side, stands still)

Ted : What? Wait. (demanding) You seriously gotta fuckin' help me, man - get me outta here! I'm in fucking trouble, I gotta get. (he stops talking when another Man walks inside, this one black, a little taller than the first Man , same outfit, also bald, no facial hair. As the Man walks in, Ted looks at the door, realizes that, outside it, flames burn intensely. There is no sky, no ground.)

Ted : What's going on!?

Random Black Man : I'm sorry that the modern minstrel act has become too broad an occurrence to narrow down. Rarely in modern society do you come across something as jarring as blackface - and when you do, it's generally satirical - but when two distinct cultures occupy the same space, mutual influence is inevitable. ( Ted looks on in disbelief) To dismiss Colin Powell as an Uncle Tom or that obnoxious kid at the mall as a wigger is to be ignorant of the larger phenomenon which, incidentally, is indicative of progress. I'm sorry.

Ted : (breathing heavy, briefly laughing, scared, yelling) What happening to me!? (this time, two men and a Woman walk in, line up in front of Ted )

Mexican Man : I'm sorry that the term "bean bandit" exists. ( Ted looks around him, tries vehemently to break free from his chains, but he can't)

Black Woman : I really don't appreciate the Hennessy ads with Marvin Gaye and Pam Grier. (she walks behind Mexican Man , behind Random Man I and II . Ted sees now that people are flowing into the shop through the door - a seemingly unending line - all wearing black suits, all bald, and Ted begins to realize that, as each person enters the room, the walls are beginning to smolder, and the flames outside the door are brighter.)

Ted : (crying again, more confused than he's ever been, more frightened) What the fuck! Get me outta here! I'm sorry! Whatever I did, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I killed her! I'm sorry for everything, I'm sorry-

Another Man : Regarding nature's deconstruction of New Orleans : I'm sorry the government dragged its feet because the survivors were black, poor, or both. ( Ted screams, a tear falls to his thigh and he sees that his eyes are dripping black. The tear begins to smolder through his jeans, burning him. As the Man continues speaking, Ted yells through his words, tries not to hear him) Racism and classism are definitely too separate issues; there are people who hate Michael Jordan just as much as the black janitor at their office, but at the same time, I don't think the former can exist without the latter. Classism is the root of all other prejudice. ( Ted 's still screaming, crying; the fire outside grows louder, hotter, closer)

Child : I'm sorry that I believe "Nigger" doesn't mean a damn thing. ( Ted 's screaming incoherently) It's just six letters; it has no inherent meaning. Asking what a word means in an overarching sense is like asking what "purple" means. Even asking what it means to African Americans is too broad. ( Ted screams in the Child's face) There are some black people who love that word - it's like, their favorite - and others who bristle at its very suggestion. What does "nigger" mean to me and my life? Absolutely nothing; I'm a young white liberal northerner. It has no more significance to me than does the word "birkenstock." (the walls are now burning visibly; glass shatters; now Ted can see through the shop windows, outside to seemingly eternal flames, the heat becoming unbearable. Ted 's sweating through his clothes, screaming unintelligibly now, babbling at the top of his lungs. He closes his eyes; when he opens them, looking to his left, he sees that Huey 's face is next to his, seemingly floating, staring up at the next Man in line)

Ted : I don't care! Get me out! Get me out! Help me!

Man : I'm sorry that Scott Peterson is the modern rockstar. ( Ted looks frantically to his right, sees Nathan's face, looking up at the next Woman in line)

Woman : I'm sorry that "redneck" is a tricky word. As far as I'm aware, no one regards every white person as being a redneck. (the flames are overwhelming, beginning to burn through the walls. Her words are almost inaudible above the sound, but Ted hears what she says, regardless) It's a personality type if anything. Most people would probably think of a white southerner, but I've known plenty of people in New York and Pennsylvania whom I would categorize as rednecks. Some of them were black, as a matter of fact. (She continues to speak at length, but Ted disregards her, sweating, thrashing about, noticing that with each word, the walls are crumbling very fast, melting. He hears a loud creaking sound above him. He looks up as the ceiling as it detached, taken away in a ferocious gust of flaming wind. He struggles hard, keeps trying to free himself, but the forces keeping him chained down are now nearly burning through his skin, hea ted by the fire that has now completely destroyed the walls around him, stranding him on a plateau engulfed by fire)

Man : I'm sorry that anytime people on television describe an "All-American" family, they're not speaking about black people. (flames closer, crowd of people crying, burning, falling off the plateau)

Woman : (the line moves faster) Why do white people love Marlboros and black people love Newports?

Child : (people begin speaking together, not waiting their turn in line) I'm sorry that little white girls are the modern rockstar.

Dog : I'm sorry that the nature of whiteness is based upon the myth of white supremacy.

Man : (yelling) I'm sorry that when one group's stereotypes are projected onto another group, white people get real scared! (these statements all mix into the same time period - seconds; the words become undistinguishable)

Man : (yelling louder) I'm sorry that I think only attractive people should be considered American.

Woman : (louder) I'm sorry that Kanye West is the modern rockstar.

Woman : (louder) I'm sorry that I am in a mixed relationship with 95% of Pittsburgh .

Woman : (louder) I really don't like Will Smith.

Child : (louder) I am amazing.

Man : (louder) I am Malcolm X.

Woman : (louder) I am Malcolm X.

Child : (louder) I am Malcolm X.

Child : (louder) I am Mordechai X. (as the last Man , Woman and Child are engulfed by flames, Ted is just about completely losing consciousness, going completely mad, screaming, crying, sobbing, shaking, realizing that his feet are now on fire, his pants blazing. He comes to, just enough to hear Nathan and Huey on either side of his face, laughing. The flames engulf Ted ; he burns, burns alive - reduced to flame; his screams become inaudible, gurgling, then nothing. All we see is flame until they go out in a flash and we're left again in darkness. Nothingness. Silence. Moments pass. Huey 's voice is heard over silence)

Huey : Nothing to be done

.

ACT II

Nathan

Huey

Frank

A crowded coffee shop. A table.

Nathan sits on a chair in front of a coffee table, bending down, trying to take off his boot. He pulls at it with both hands, panting. He gives up, exhaus ted , rests, tries again. Huey , on the other side of the table, sits typing on a laptop computer. Huey looks toward Nathan 's chair, then looks back to his computer.

Enter Frank , holding a cup of coffee, walking up to the table, standing in front of it for a moment. Confused, unrecognized, he turns around and walks away.

Nathan : (giving up again) . Nothing to be done.

Huey : (again looking up). I'm beginning to come round to that opinion. All my life I've tried to put it from me, saying Huey , be reasonable, you haven't yet tried everything. And I resumed the struggle. (He broods, musing on the struggle, rubbing his head thoughtfully, looking toward the ceiling. Turning back to Nathan .) So there you are again.

Nathan : What?

Huey : I'm glad you're here. I thought I had lost you forever.

Nathan : Me too.

Huey : Together again at last! We'll have to celebrate this. But how? (He reflects.) Get up till I embrace you.

Nathan : (irritably) . Not now, not now. Besides, I never left. I'm here - we're here, my friend - together, forever. No matter what. (smiles wanly, looks back down at his boot)

Huey : (hurt, saddened) . I sometimes forget. (Frank walks up to the table)

Frank : (interrupting) Excuse me.

Huey : (to Nathan ) Nigger, do you smell something?

Nathan : (yawning) Repentance.

Huey : Ah.

Nathan : Yes.

Huey : I smell. (sniffs three times) I smell the scent of voting booths and baby powder!

Nathan : (yawns again) I'm beat.

Huey : The smell! It's. (sniffs three times) stale, it's. (three more sniffs) lactating. it's. like nothing I've ever smelt before, it's-

Frank : (tapping Huey on the shoulder) Excuse me.

Huey : (looks up at Frank, then back to Nathan . He pauses, clears his throat and reaches into his pocket, pulls out a pack of Spade Cigarettes. He removes one from the pack, puts it to his lips. He lights it, inhales, exhales. Finally, he looks up; his eyes meet Frank's. Slowly, he says) And what of it? May I help you?

[END]

This story features plagiarized lines and concepts from Samuel Beckett's "Waiting for Godot," as well as grudging contributions from Frog Begernelski, Daniel Lavelle, David Pilgrim, Black President, Khari Mosley, Nish Suvarnakar, Mike Cooper and Matilda Wilson