Friday, July 21, 2006

A New Play [Spontaneity]

By Dennis L. Siluk
Mar. 17, 2005

You gutted me last night when I heard your

Voice…it was flat, feeble…it was when

I called you on the phone, only to

Hear we will not meet tomorrow

why? Because--

You bonehead, can

Not take a joke

Or perhaps


Like a


Street …and

What you heard

Is what you believed:--

So be it! Whine in your

Sensitivity;--bellow, and creep in

Your performance. My life is not worth




nor wasting



or breathe; cut-up the



pull down

the curtain—


For a new


Day, not yours—



Sunday, July 09, 2006

The Cobbler [75,000 BC] A Play

The Cobbler
[The Think Tank of Libra/75,000 BC]

Act 1
Scene One

[In the Constellation Libra, the Cobbler is mumbling to himself about getting a group together, thinking out loud, walking – pacing back and forth about what is on his mind…]:

The Cobbler. [He is talking to himself and to the reader, audience I can hear him]. I had gathered together a Think Tank; I should say I am doing it at this very moment. It has been a long time since we had a gathering, our people, those throughout the Universe die, are born, and die, woops, I already said that didn’t I, I repeat myself nowadays, so it seems. We have a life expediency of around 100,000-years or so, or kind; take or give a few thousand; something like that. We eat, but we don’t taste. We think, but we do not have dreams. We give birth to children, but do not have sex. We drink for the experience of it, just as we breathe, but we do not have any motion in doing it. We have lost several other things, and we just can’t figure out what they are; --that is why I am calling the Think Tank together, I have an idea, and I think I know what we are missing. If we could, and I think we can, I want to could create a race that would benefit from us, by us putting these lost items into there genetic makeup, all the better, I say, all the better for all. I fear at 48,500-years old, I have little time left to get the ball rolling.

Legend [and although there is truth to legend, legend is as it is, legend, myth, fable, celebrity, do not forget that] so says legend, at one time there was what they called a god or God, the difference being if I write, or say it as: “god” it is indicating you know of him, and if you write or say it: ‘God’, it is that you are being of Him—if that makes any sense, but we will not question legend or the God factor all that much, we shall take it as it falls, and it shall fall into its rightful place, as does all other things. And I guess my kind, I am calling myself a spices now, as if we have already created a new being, since I am going to try and convince the committee to create a new one, we know ‘god’ in that kind of way, meaning, of him, if you get my meaning. And I want to try to remake the lost connection.

Let me go on with this, this ‘Think Tank,’ thing, I am calling together is to find out what the ‘God, god’ did by taking something out of us, or put another way, away from us—if indeed He is the culprit, or perhaps we are ourselves. I know He got mad eons ago, and walked away from us. He kept what you call angelic beings with him, and extracted something from us. He said, and I must quote this from the letters written down by, oh, I forgot his name, whatever, whoever, it doesn’t’ matter all that much except for the freak-factors, those folks that like to dot the ‘i’ and ‘t’ ‘s, on everything: the Libra Man who lived back then is whom I’m talking about, that is why I am here, and not in some other far off place –it gives some kind of lost emotion to me; let’s leave it at that; anyhow, he said,
“Seek it out and when you find it, you will find me,” there should be a period there I suppose, but it was something like that; I can’t remember anything else, if indeed He said anything else: that was enough, as short as it is, it was penetrating to say the least. I don’t want to offend Him again, if I do, holy sh... Hell will break out in the Universe, and all eyes will be on me, they will want a scapegoat will they not, and I look like a good one, one ripe for picking, that is, if I was to do the picking, and I was them.

I just want to replace something missing, simple as that, but I know, and I’m sure you know, nothing, I mean nothing is as simply as one thinks it should be…expects it to be, or another one tells you it is, they and you are kidding yourself, or perhaps you want the other guy to believe it: selling him some dead planet are you, and expect him to restore it to its previous vitality over night I suppose—not possible, not in this universe anyhow to the Think Tank, I’m going to try and explain what I have found in the past 28,000-years; if we can put this together, in short, can we or can we not, create a race of beings, and they will have what we do not have, what we lost. Damn, I hope they will listen to me. They are coming from all over the Universe. They know of this “God, god” being, but very little of him. But I got an idea.

The Cobbler
[The Think Tank of Libra/75,000 BC]

Scene Two

[The group is getting situated in the middle of the Star system called Libra to talk to the Cobbler, pulling up chairs with stars on them]

Here they all are, the General, the Captain, the Colonel, the Governor, the Pope, the King himself, and I the Cobbler make seven.

The Cobbler. The Cobbler they call me, I guess because I build stones walls, in and around areas and better things; I do this throughout the Universe and that creates some angry beings; why, you ask, the reason being, when they go from one location to another, they have to slow down when they get to these walls, it makes them think you know. Why not make the slow down and make them think, is my philosophy, or one of them anyhow; I mean, if without a doubt, you possess that capability, and I do. Sure, sure, but why I do that—you are asking, but if they don’t slow down, they will be knocked out for a spill, and I want them to slow down. I guess I do it because I’m bored, and again, I’m not sure if that is a good reason, but it is the only one I got; I don’t lie, because I don’t know how to, don’t need to, have no reason to, and that is why I got thinking of the missing link, or links, and need you folks to slow down, and think of what is missing, and if I had not slowed you down, you would not be here, thinking, what I want you to be thinking of…if in fact, that makes sense, and it should you, or they can’t destroy me, that kind of war was done away with so long ago no one even thinks like that anymore, not out here at any rate. You or they [They being, those who have not come, but were invited] they do not have the same-strange powers I have, they have others. I am not a loner but I like my privacy, and when the ‘God, god’ left our kind, he gave us 100,000-years to be alone if we so chose, perhaps to think, conceivably to think about thinking, what we are missing; so that gives me all the time in the world to build walls, to think and to call you folks here. Everyone knows I am old, and my chromosomes are breaking, I am dying. They should last a million years, but it’s better than what it was 80,000-years ago. So why squabble over spilt milk.

The General. Ok, let’s all sit by this star and see what the Cobbler has to say, more to say. I hope its good; I came a few trillion miles to be here.

[They’re all sitting now in a circle, the King is older than the Cobbler, and seems to be falling asleep; the Captain is the youngest of the group, and the smart-alecky personage.]

The Captain. Well Cobbler, I hope this is worthwhile. Are you going to take some of them walls down, I keep bumping into now, now that you got me here? The only things they do are stopping me for a spill, and make me think of you—angrily, annoyingly.

The Cobbler. Yes, that is why you are here. Because of that, I suppose one might say.
The King. [Woke up, his eyes peering over his fat eyelids]. You always were a little odd there, Mr. Cobbler.

The Cobbler. Yes, I suppose I am, no doubt; I want to propose that all of us to use our power and prayer, to create a new generation of beings. I have four things I want to instill into these new beings. Things I believe were taken from us by the “God, god” so long ago. If we can do that, we will have done something great for the Universe as a whole.

The King. Strange you are, definitely, Mr. Cobbler, but fist things first, you’re first question is an assumption, or better put, your statement-question is not compete: let me complete it for you: whom, here would like to contribute something, that might me nothing to a Universe that knows nothing about what you want to give them, or it, for nothing, yet for some odd reason you have, other than that you need our help to created this new unneeded, unwanted, unreal thing called a new species, or being.

The Colonel. I am, as you know, should know, may know, a scientist, and although creating a new species is not the most difficult thing to do, it is a hard thing to do; and to instill something lost, something we do not know of, or what it is, for whatever reasons, might be an act we cannot do, or should not do, especially if it was taken from us in the first place, as you say, in the first place because we could not deal with it. And remember, oh yes, remember please, Mr. Cobbler, we don’t know what it is, we only know what we’ve been told, what you’ve told us, or suspect perhaps, or better yet, we may discover by putting all our minds together.

The Cobbler. I think we can do this, by way of using all our powers, for we among the entire Universe are the only ones that can, if it can be done the way we want it to be done. I want to change the cell structure of a being like me, and put a code into it, if it can be, into a living gene. The code will read according to its previous owner. Therefore it will be duplicated automatically. But he or she can change it as they grow into adulthood, or maturity. The problem is, the chromosomes will break after a short period of time, say 1000-years. And if we are successful, and they do what we did life will be extended, and I forgot what we did to get what we got, and one of the things we got other than, longevity in years to live, was ‘God, god,’ mad us; thus, we could lose what they we have left, longevity, and not gain what we lost, that got ‘God, god,’ mad at us in the first place.

On another note, we will, in these beings, or they will be hope, for we will put our code into them, our genes, and then we will with the Colonel’s help, instill four things. Perhaps we might get ‘God, god,’ back in our life, and eternal life.

The King. “Yaw, yaw, I’m too old to give a sh…t, I even forgot how to say that and I’ve never even done that; but it sounds like something to do. I’m for it. Out of boredom, that is.

[The entire group stares at the cobbler.]

The Captain. “Ok, let’s find out what we’re missing.”

The Cobbler. Now we’re getting someplace. Now, Captain, what do you do all day long [the captain just staring at the Cobbler, shaking his head as if to say nothing—you fool, you know that.] See, I knew it, you do nothing, I mean you are thinking what I already knew: nothing. That is why you came here to see me, because it is something.

The Captain. More riddles from the Cobbler, so you are right, I do nothing. Get on with the show.
The Cobbler. Well, as I told you, that is why I build walls, because I’m tired of doing nothing, and that is something. But what is that called, Mr. Pope?

The Pope. It has been a long time since I had to think like this. Not sure, but, I sense something wants to come out, you know something called spoken words, with real sounds: that has been missing for me. I suppose I must exercise my mouth, heavens forbid, it will be a task.

The Cobbler. It is called desire. When ‘God, god’ walked away, he took desire with him. That way we would not seek him, and he was pissed, I mean Royal-mad. Now desire can lead you from the ‘god,’ to the ‘God’, you see; does that make sense?

The Pope. I hope this is not a God thing—completely, I mean, who is God? On the other hand, it makes sense, if you can conceive it to be so; yes, it does. I hope your hope has a plan for us that will restore your sanity at the end of this meeting, Mr. Cobbler. Perhaps we can all use our powers to restore you to the way you were thinking before, which was not as hopeless as now.

The Cobbler. We don’t sir; we give it to the new beings—hope that is. [The Pope’s face starts to droop, perhaps it was a sassy way he presented his opinion, but somehow, sassy or not, under it, he wanted hope to survive for him, and them, and now you can see that on his face] Now the next items on the agenda is something called ‘faith,’ otherwise known as believing, and it can also be called trust. All these things I realize are alien to us but we had them at one time.

The King. What does this ‘faith’ demand of us, and what can it do for us, or for the new beings you are talking about, I do hope we get something out of all this?

The Cobbler. Good question, your majesty. But let me just back track a little. If you take desire away, you are the walking dead, like us who need for nothing, wish nor want for nothing: no reason to go on, but we do, you do, because we can, and cannot kill ourselves. Faith is similar; you know something even though you do not see it. Out here in the Universe, we talk to one another, and if we don’t, we have no way of transmitting our …whatever those things are called—: words with ideas attached to them, or ideas with emotions surrounding them, or opinions that have thinking draining through them. But faith says there is something to go home to that is after your dead: perhaps it is God. You see My King, you are feeling, or thinking, or maybe not either one, death is no more then getting out of this boring Universe. Faith takes with it desire, and they connect with ‘God-god,’ both together. Now you can feel him, and you are aware of him. Does it make sense?
The King. Nothing makes sense, only that you have an idea that we were more than what we are at one time, and lost it, and you want to create something, that has what we lost, and never will have, nor be able to experience, because it is no longer with us, and when we die, we will not be able to connect with ‘God, god,’ so the cloud of darkness will forever silence us; and you want to give the opportunity to this new found life, what we lost—God. Is this not so? And if it is, I’m a little annoyed with it, perhaps its envy, if even this foolishness was practical. On the other hand, I suppose I could say: I like it, but why should I care?

The Cobbler. If we create these beings and put in them what we lost, they can pray for us, and maybe the “God-god,” will restore us to reality, hoping that reality will be with him, eternally; something along that line, but you got to have faith first.

The King. Haw! Mysterious thing this thing called faith, and hope, and all that stuff, in a universe with so much brightness and darkness, but I like that part, the part where we die and are put into darkness, and by some thing called hope, because we created something with hope, we get brightness, it is a reward I presume: you give, you get; no, no, let me say that again: you give, you hope you get; not sure if I like that part, but I don’t want to come back to this big open space of colored lights either, not for another 100,000-years anyway: I’d prefer to stay in the dark, silently.
The Cobber. The two words I want to talk about are apprehension [he sees its term more on the order of: fear and hesitation] and insecurity [doubt vs. confidence]. You see we do not have any of these, call them emotions, or what have you. We chose somehow to be free of them, or when ‘God, god,’ walked away he took them with him: not sure what happened, but of course, these emotions are hard to come by, if undeniably, He didn’t forget to take that with Him. These emotions are not entirely the motivation for a person to seek out and learn about his creator, but they are pieces in a puzzle, when taken out, leaves the puzzle unworkable. This friends, I’ve found out to be true, and a missing link of some quality.

The Colonel. Emotions, feelings, missing links, hope, faith, new beings, it all is a ting much for a morning meeting I’d say, but I believe, I can do it. I have a scientific formula that can mix these ingredients into our cells, but they would only infect our offspring, for us it would simply be an antiviral.

The Cobbler. That is what I am talking about. So let’s do it.

The Cobbler
[The Think Tank of Libra/75,000 BC]

Scene Three
[Narrator comes out and gives the ending to the first act]

And so it came to pass that the Libra Group, the Think Tank of Libra that is, and all its participants: the King, the Cobbler, the Pope, the General, Captain and the Colonel, the Think Tank of Libra, of 75,000 BC, put together a formula with these cells the cells and genetic make up needed to transpose these ancient missing links, or things lost so long ago in the past: feelings, emotions, hope and faith, etcetera: they now were planted you could say, deposited into their creative offspring—; bitter it may be, but I must say it, these new cell structures could not survive in space with them— (and bitter it was to a few to let them go after creating them) onto several planets, one being earth. And the Colonel calls his daughter Hu, and the King calls his son Man, perhaps they got to call them by name because the Cobbler knew they had the biggest egos, and didn’t want to argue; and so it was, and now written.

And as a result, the two were created and put into a garden, this part of the story we all of course know. But Hu, gained a rib somewhere along the way, and Man lost one; and during this time He was left alone to name the animals of this planet called earth, the one he was placed on, you could say. When they got together, that is to say, when God, decided to check things out, He took the human beings, and named them Adam and Eve, it was His gift to the Think Tank (I don’t think He liked the naming of the creatures per se, but he was kind in leaving the species called human, combining the words, and forcing the King and Colonel to share in the glory)) although dead they were)), giving man some credit for something for his efforts; perhaps He had (He being: God) He had a bigger ego than the King and the Colonel; maybe that is why He understands man so well: for they had—unselfishly—put back things that once were lost into the dark shadows of outer space—put them back into a being, I say unselfishly because they had long gone, departed their universe. [And having said this, comes ‘…Orion’ and Act II, Scene One.]

The Cobbler
[The Think Tank of: Orian/25,000 BC]

Act II
Scene One

[In the Constellation called Orion, the Cobbler is readying himself to have a second gathering of the elite a group known as the “Think Tank,” of the Universe he is thinking out loud, resting – it has been 50,000 years since their last meeting of the minds; a new member has joined them by the name of: Florencia]

On the edge of the Universe, in the consultation—Orion

The Narrator

The Cobbler is sitting on a frozen red and blue intergalactic form of gasses, in deep space; he has shaped these gases into a sofa chair of sorts. They have created a being of sorts, on the planet Tiamat II, otherwise known as Earth, otherwise known as the Blue Planet. They have implanted in this new species a genetic structure, encoded a few traits they had lost some time ago, eons ago, they can’t remember how they lost them character behaviors, but they know they offended the God of the Universe in the process, otherwise known as ‘God, god.’

The Cobbler has been observing this new species for some 50,000-years, and partly to his dismay. Something else is lacking he has deduced. So simply he tells himself—referring to the thing that is lacking—it surprises him, shamefully, that it took 50,000-years to figure it out. But then, he allows himself some leeway, realizing, sometimes we’re simply too close to the forest to see the trees. A dump philosophy that makes him feels better anyhow.

And so, he has called a meeting of the minds, called the ‘Think Tank,’ of the Universe, to talk about the Galaxy called the Milky Way, a stellar system the Cobbler had acquired a liking for; and about the planet Earth, as he glimpses at its from, in intergalactic space. The guests that are arriving assume they are the seven who have survived the longest of all the other species in their known sections of the Universe.

Scene II
Guests Arriving


As his guests do arrive, one by one, he is thinking about the ‘God, god,’ theory…or issue, and the creation he has brought about on earth. He hopes with ‘God, god’s’ blessing. The last thing he wants to do is get on the bad side of Him again. The Earthy thing that bothers him, to make a long thought short, is that his subjects are acting more like animals than like—let’s say, hu-mans; what he and his group did not expect. Surely they got the genetic code for ‘desire,’ right, but maybe too damn right, as was planned, possible too engrained, not soft touch to it, Florencia has brought to the groups attention:

Florencia. [A little cocky] “You have created a human fish for of life, or is it a human rabbit, or perhaps an intergalactic flesh fish form of life; with feet and limbs by its shoulder, what next, what do you expect, you need to down it tempo, and raise its formal reason process with Love.”

Narrator. As they look down upon earth, they notice the hu-man’s are becoming more dangerous than the animals. Consequently, the desire to live, eat, have sex has no limits, boundaries, or for that matter, no ethics.

The King. [Disapprovingly] One takes from the other without conscious. They do not know right from wrong, or if they do, it is not showing. And in old age, no one stops the cruelty that prevails. The question comes up to us, the Think-Tank: how can Earth people stop earth people from hurting earth people, without our intervention; I mean, simply look: when one person gets bigger than the other and wants more from the others, that is not theirs in the first place. This is greed we have created, not love, or hope or faith. We must correct this before our deaths.

The Colonial. Just wait a minute here. The Cobbler builds walls to stop us, get our attention, what if the walls would kill us, would he stop building them? Better yet, if it had killed me, I’d be dead, and then he can figure out right from wrong, but it does me no good, I’m still dead because of his right to do what he feels he needs to do to get to the end of his thoughts: will he give his life up for right or wrong, and in this case, kill himself. No, I say, no he will not, and that is because of greed. Is it not, their duty to take while they can, for when they are old they will not be able to, it is the law of survival, as it is out here, the law of getting attention to build walls: is this not true?

Florencia. Who is to stop the beings from raping, killing or robbing; something dreadfully is wrong here. And like 50,000 years ago, when the Cobbler came up with this bright idea to create these beings, the missing element never occurred to him, the thing lacking in the animals, reasoning which equals, ‘free will,’ the very thing the creator gave to us at one time, the one think no one seems to remember, but cherishes nonetheless; really can’t remember His name haw, so they call him ‘God, god,’ when you talk about him, and God when you feel like you need to worship him, and “God, god,” when you fear Him the most.

Narrator and the Cobbler

[The Think Tank is sitting in circle thinking]

As time moves on [to the Cobbler], another observation comes to light, which is really an extension of the first, and he writes this down to show the Think Tank, so he doesn’t forget,

“Nobody wants to die,” haw, that was the Cobbler saying that and that is pretty true and to the point, and the Think Tank is thinking on that very subject this minute. But yet, how can this be? I mean to tell you folks reading this, this is what the Think Tank, is thinking, and this is what the hu-mans are fighting for, and the Think Tank is having a hard time seeing the parallel, is not to smart thing for the Think Tank, I think. And to be quite honest with you, it gives them something to think about, I mean, they are getting closer to their universal dead date line, they also cannot live forever you know; or they know, or they should know.

So the questions come up by the Cobbler. “Now how can that be, when it is part of the natural process, can a little drop of their genetic fiber causes this? …God, forbid! Did we put too much desire in these beings…” [His thoughts are racing and so is his mind, and you can see his head spinning: spin and think, spin and think that is what is going on for about 10,000 years here.]? People within the Think Tank come and go was the Cobbler things…!

Narrator continues. Well, the way to fix this, he concludes, and will inform the Think Tank, is by adding somehow, someway, the elements of ‘free will’ a suggestion by Florencia. He has concluded, if the creatures on earth already have it, they have perhaps too much of it, so he tells himself: I mean they were careful in the ingredients they added to the creation menu of the hu-mans: first was the body for its physical needs, then socialization, then the mind for psychological reasons, and of course they had left out reasoning, or was its something else, or addition? And if they don’t have it, they will end up eating each other pretty soon, so he better find a way on how to inject it before there is no one left to experiment with.

Narrator. The Captain has now arrived back at the circle of thinkers (it has changed to the place called Orion), you see him coming out of some super cluster, a far off Galaxy; evidently he was soul searching going back and forth for personal reasons: bored perhaps; he had left the group to think on his own all the same, and is now back, a little cynical brut, but a good sort of chap.

And the Pope, he has returned, he is the spiritual leader of the group of eight, or the Think Tank, as we know it to be; he lives or dwells in the constellation called Sagittarius [the Archer].

It would seem everyone had his or her favorite places live, like the creatures they’ve created on earth. But to the Cobbler, there is nothing in the Universe more beautiful than Orion, with its Horse head Nebula, his abode. And dark clouds, interstellar matter, and its nebula absorbing light from distant stars it is a grand place he thought for this meeting. He tells the Captain and the Pope, there is no equal in the entire universe for the orange coloration of the pulsating matter, dust and gases that are fly around the Horse head of the Nebula, and the star Orion.

Now the circle is starting to look more like a circle, and a meeting again. The Colonial has arrived, who are the scientist, and the General [whom is always moody, or so it seems], the inquisitive, and the aging King [who seems to get annoyed, and always thinks he is going to die soon, but seemingly will out live all the seven], and the Governor [whose affect is always flay, good for playing poker though].

[Everyone now is sitting on his or her frozen, gassy-colorful looking sofa chairs.]

The Cobbler. You all know me as the Cobbler, and I got this meeting today to report the findings of the beings we created some 50, 000 or is it now 60,000-years ago on the Blue Planet, which will be called in the future, Earth, I looked into the book of the future, only a fragment of it though, I didn’t want to cheat, and I still do believe the greatest gift, our creator, “God, god’, gave us was not to foretell the future, so I leave it as it is. But a peek now and then doesn’t hurt.

The Captain. We all know what is happening on the Blue Planet, in your neck of the woods, Mr. Cobbler—don’t be so surprised Mr. Cobbler, you’re not the only one out here, we keep updated also.

The Cobbler looks at them all— And they all nod, indicating yes…

Captain. So let’s not squander anymore time, what’s on your mind, and what do you want from us, and what is next! — [?]

The Cobbler. Something is lacking in the primates on Earth—I call them primates because they—they act more like animals than reasonable beings; that is to say, more out of instinct, than out of reasoning.

Colonial. [Antagonistically] Well, when we made them, the beings that are on the Blue Ball that is, when we made them, [he is pointing], we used all the knowledge we had at our disposal, so what in this Universe do you think we can do about this?

The Cobbler. That of course is why we are all here. Let me explain. We simply forgot something. We were selfish, and that the Pope can understand better than all of us [the Pope looks at the Cobbler]. You see, we did not give them freewill like us…or perhaps something else.

The Pope [Piously] Yes, yes—we forgot the gift the Great Creator gave us so very long ago. Yes, yes—this is so, this is so. But how do we implement this, I mean, how do we ratify our wrong, and make it right? What is missing from the menu is Spirituality: you’ve added social, psychological, physical needs but, and this is a big ‘but’ do we not have a need for spiritual-ness? It is part of our general make up; the creatures likewise? Reason demands we look at this element; although the problem is, we as we are, die, and thus, cannot give them this one ingredient, it has to come from God Himself, this is the problem, for is it not He who has unglued himself from the puzzle?

The Cobbler [Anxious]. I’m glad you said that Pope, a good stepping-stone for me. I think what we need to do is create a virus—yes, that is what we need to do; that will only infect the beings biological structure, their genetic predisposition. After we have perfected this virus, we need to inject it, or some how float it, into their system. We need it to infect the system, change the system, and then lay dormant so it doest affect anything else in the future. This will also adjust the beings reasoning capability, or so I think. Free will, we will have to depend on free will to seek out God again, lest they feel empty like us; is not a right by any means for a creature to feel God inside him, it is a gift from the creator we threw away, and they must find, we can only do so much.

King. [Sleepily] Well, I hope if we do it, we do it quick so I can live to see the results. It’s been over 50,000-years, and all we created is another monkey. I could have done that is my sleep, although this primate is more creative I see, and quite a lot cleverer than his neighbors.

Governor. [Surrealistically] We have given them long lasting chromosomes, yet they only live between one hundred to one thousand years, and then they weaken and break, like everything in the Universe, they cascade. Like a ball, some day the whole thing is going to come to its destination, and drop. As I was about to say, lizards live longer than our creation, they grow as they live, and never stop, how did we do that?

[The Captain responds]: ‘we didn’t do that, ‘God, god’…woops, I didn’t mean to boast, I got to watch myself. Anyways, that is what virus’ do, they mutate, and so we got to be careful they do not cause future damage.

The Cobbler to the Governor. [Sensationally]

You are so right, but we must take chances in life. Can we honestly now, leave these creatures on earth as they are, when there is a passivity in me for them; to give them more reasoning, and free will to make better choices, or worse ones is all we can do. We are now responsible for them, like it or not. If something bad is triggered in the future, most likely they will have the means to fix it, for it will be them who create the trigger, and we will most likely will not be around to assist or maybe God will allow us to, I hope, or possibly beings like us, are the last of our breed, and like you said, the last to give a chance to the Universe to put forth a new a creative creature, liken to us, but with less powers. But there is always that chance, old desire will out weigh the new reasoning and free will I suppose, and survival could trigger world atrophy; it is the chance even God Himself must take.
I have heard some of the beings asking such questions as, “Where are we from,” and “why can’t we remember the past.” When in essence there really isn’t much of a past, although the ‘desire’ fiber, wants them to believe there is.

General. [Wanting to get back to whatever he was doing before he came says in a quick manner] Ok, ok, ok: Cobbler, how do we infect our prize begins on this little dot in space call a planet? Hopefully this will help us reunite ourselves with our God, and give me peace from you.

The Cobbler. [A little worried but surprisingly spontaneous] We can do it, we can do it…we simply infect the air with a dust, chemical, that will only affect the neurons in the right places of the beings. Or we could put it in the water, or even hand delivered it to a few of the females and let it take its roots from that. Although I would feel guilty for the souls lost to nothingness. We could also put it in the clouds, and when it rained it would drip all over them. The reason why we are here is to get ideas.

As you can see, they are already drawing pictures on the walls of caves. This will bring them out of the caves and they will build temples; follow the stars, and find our God, or create their own God’s. And when they do, He will no longer be angry with us possibly, or become angrier; whatever the case, redemption may be around the corner. They already have the trivial genetic material we gave them, they simply need a booster, and the Captain can come up with a dose that will accommodate or alter whatever needs altering, accordingly.

The General. We’re going to end up with two kinds of intelligent life here, the cave drawer and the sun worshiper living side by side I fear; one envious of the other for somehow, feeling the other found reasoning, and how to survive outside of the cave, and build, buildings. They will watch these new beings that look much like themselves, not fearful, not hiding, and they will see themselves die-out. The transition period I do realize will take several long generations, perhaps more like millenniums, to adapt to this— if we separate the cotenants, we can perfect this ‘will’ thing to minimum damage, on the first set of beings. We can also instill in them an eagerness to travel, for adventure, look at them now, they are all clustered in one area—and, and if worse comes to worse, there will be beings of different races, and cultures all over the Earth. Thus, we need not worry about the hu-mankind dying out.

Narrator comes up frront and says his last words to

Act II

And so it was ordained on the 8th day of May, 25,000+ years ago, that man would be infected with a mutative virus that would change him forever. Consequently, balancing his system, and allowing him to become part of the universal body of thinkers, with reason, desire and free will, yet spirituality was yet to be found or implanted.

The Cobbler
[The Think Tank of Mars/16,000 BC]

Act III Mars

Scene One

[On the planet of Mars, the Cobbler is readying himself to have a third gathering of the elite, a group known as the “Think Tank,” of the Universe, the Cobbler is presently pacing and thinking out loud, pacing like a panther, – it has been 9,000 years since their last meeting of the minds; at this point a few of the elite have died, leaving only five left, the Cobbler, the Captain, the Pope, Florencia and the Governor]


[The same as from Act I, Scene three: Advance to: Scene One, Act Three] And as a result two persons were created and put into a garden, this part of the story we all of course know. But Hu, gained a rib somewhere along the way, and Man lost one; and during this time He was left alone to name the animals of this planet called earth, the one he was placed on, you could say. When they got together, that is to say, when God, decided to check things out, He took the human beings, and named them Adam and Eve, it was His gift to the Think Tank.]
At this point God had intervened, as was the hope, and plans of the Think Tank, and man received his spirituality, in that, they realized there was a power greater than them.

On the surface of the planet Mars —Narrator

The Cobbler—it would seem—is having his meetings closer and closer to the Earth as time goes by, or so his companions feel, and now there are only five of them left. Unfortunately, they are long lived, but they do die, and some have died from the Think Tank. The King with his temper, thought the Cobbler, had lived longer than expected, and the General with his demanding-attitude had outlived his stay in the Universe also; systems no matter what kind they are need to have tranquility, not constant stress, the Cobbler tells himself; so again, he is not surprised with the news of their deaths, yet a little sad, and this can be seen on his face as he hears the news by the others talking about the deaths of their comrades.

The Colonel, well, he liked him in particular, being a military man like the Cobbler used to be in his younger days, but death is inevitable he ponders, of which he had come to the conclusion long ago but now death is in his backyard, nothing—but nothing is at random he concludes, and all things cascade to its death, sooner or later: as he has preached to so many, in so many meetings in the past.

Even with all the different dimensions that he had experience in his long life 100,000 years of life is not long he feels, when you think of eternity, actually he was something like 87,000 years old at this stage, give or take a few hundred years. Thus, he was feeling death nearing; at 25,000-years old, you do not feel it, at 87,000 years old, you have spent 87% of your life, and now this was noticeable, and his days were on the down side of eternity. Change brings things forward, and buries other things, tucking them away as if they never were. Thus, death could no longer be overlooked.

We see the Cobbler explaining to his guests as they arrive on Mars how: he likes the winter season here, because the rocks are more tinted with reds and whites, colors he likes; basically, they are made up of frost and dust. Along with some of the coarse-grained larger rocks leaving the view a pretty picture. It is a small planet he agrees, but the selection was not made on size, rather again, on the winter period which is about 100-days long [23-earth months], and the glorious view it brings to the descriptive mind, the reddish dust is a pretty sight he declares again, and again, adding to the picture a perfect setting for this meeting and his guests. He has left the hu-man thing alone, and is feeling the beauty of the creation of the Universe.

The cobbler, is an artist student from long ago, from the academy of Universal Studies, a College he can’t remember going to, being at, the name of he has in his head: he does remember only that: in some Galaxy he can remember the name of either, but he was there nonetheless, this he knows; however, the five are now standing around, looking at a huge rock and seemingly trying to figure out if they should use it to sit on, or just float in a circle and use a little energy they have, which is next to nothing;

‘This area,’ explains the Cobbler, ‘will someday be called ‘Chryse Planitia,’ by the Earthlings.

[The Governor exclaims]: ‘You have been dabbling into future events again, I see Mr. Cobbler!’ [A rhetorical question I think.]

For the most part it is a barren landscape, yet it has many sand dunes throughout its environment, again, a tranquilizing picture for the Cobbler. Plus, the one outstanding thing he wants to have at this moment, is his elite group to enjoy this unmovable, indisputable, sunset it, Mars has to offer to his kind, and reminds them of the species they have created, that can enjoy looking at it also. It is unlike any other he has ever seen. With such colors, soft hues and dim rolling dunes: because it is close to the sun, comes in whites, blues and reds; and as all these lights, and particles reflect back and forth from the sun to planet, a raw looking, but beautiful, red and white surface appears with multidimensional reflections; consequently, one that you can only stand in awe of [perhaps to show this on stage one can put some psychedelic lights in motion], and wonder how its creator, painted such an ongoing beautiful picture. It is like a big golden red egg, looking over the horizon onto a planet of red lava, while the rays of the sun press outward, as if to create a circle like effect, not quite like that of Venus, of which it is a 360-angle degree circle, rather more like a 45-degree outward burst.

Scene Two

[You see everyone looking at the sunset on Mars, and the Cobbler, smiling, knowing God has heard them]
The Group wants to know they can do about the earthlings, but the Cobbler has checked out the future, just a little, and he knows God will provide the spirituality they need, and do a little better job than they, in balancing their system out. He knows God has already picked out a name for each of the creatures, and will combine the hu man, to one word, humans, but he can’t tell anyone, lest they lose their faith, and chance for
Salvation, if indeed that is on God’s menu.

See Dennis' web site:

Sunday, July 02, 2006

The Pong ado Uprising [a play with one act]

(1952—North Korea)

Act One

[A one act play]

[Advance] Based on actual events taken from a conversation with John Quernemoen (Private, stationed on this North Korean island during the uprising); his pictures of the near escape attempt, during and after proved to be of value for the descriptiveness for the play. The story is on American GI’s on Pong ado Island, one of three islands (now a resort), l952; permission given to the author to give JQ’s name—and although the story can be told without it, the author wishes to put his name in this Advance—and use his basic frame for this play extract from the pictures and add what he feels is needed to narrate the play; to be put into a account format. 2/17/2006. This should be considered Historical Fiction, but more historical than fiction. Very little is made up. The story and pictures told the whole story besides the verbal account with JQ. The sergeant is a made-up character, yet there was a sergeant nearby, who was present, and a friend of JQ’s, they were just not together at the time; and also is the location of JQ during the uprising, it was not exactly where the author puts him; most all other facts are true. The five-ton tuck was nearby the scene; descriptions, taken from the faces, bodies and clothing of the POW’s; as was the geographic location taken and its terrain taken from the pictures.

(Scene is taking place between 6:00-7:00 AM, on a Sunday morning, on the Island of Pang ado, North Korea, in a concentration camp of 16,000-Pow’s ((North Koreans)). John [JQ], is the observer in what is to be a great try for an escape. Five hundred Military Police are guarding the prisoners, thus, they are out unnumbered 32, to 1. Private John Q, the only finger printer on base. He is now with Sergeant Erwin W. [EW]. The date is December 7, 1952, everyone is resting. John and the sergeant have just woken up, three has been in the pat several weeks’ demonstrations, and in the past few weeks, an increase in them, and they are aware of this. Everyone is resting, John and the Sergeant are up early, he needs to check on the changing of the guards, and then him and Private Q, will go to the mess hall and have breakfast. Lots of noise seems to be echoing across the yard this morning, commotion is building; a certain North Korean is provoking this. The barracks are behind the three barbered wired fences. But beyond the fences is freedom; if indeed they can make it out into the plateau area, and to the far reaching mountains beyond the camp. In a few minutes, at 7:00 AM, 16,000-men will try.)


Seems like there is much activity with the POW’s today?

Sgt Erwin

I wonder what they’re up to?...

John [Curiously]

Wow!.... I hope not much…Hey what do you think?

Sgt Erwin [Sarcastically]

Sunday morning, what do you expect, I got a hangover! That’s what I think; got to check the guards, make sure their relief has come.

John [Waking up, rubbing his eyes]

I’ll follow you there, not much else to do; we can get some grub after you do what you got to do…!

Sgt Erwin

Ok private, follow me, let’s get this over with, I’m hungry too.

(As they walk in the chilled air, wool jackets on, army green, hands in their pockets, hates on, the wind from the sea brushing across the island, you can hear it a little, light snow in the air, here and there; they walk over to the other side of the compound; the sergeant notices bodies climbing over, under and right through the first layer of barbwire fence, POW’s putting their blankets and clothing over the barbwire and leaping over the fabric to the path in-between the two rolls: climbing the first roll of the three; dark haired North Koreans all pushing their way to the other side like a swarm of locust.

Nearby, in the towers are machine gunners, guards, not allowed to fire until at least one man makes it through the wire, then …once indemnified, he can shoot, but he must be completely though, save, his life is not in danger. And they wait, and watch, it will be but a minute or two. The alarm has gone off, men running to the arms-room to get their carbines.

The first Korean has stepped onto the surface of the warn out path between the two barbwire fences, and the machine guns open up: one first and then two more. Bodies are falling, it is clear now, the escape is in full force, bullets are flying, and the machineguns are red hot. Rolls of barbwire fence have bodies laying on it, others are hiding under the bodies to avoid the bullets, the Sergeant and private stop to wait out the situation, behind a five ton truck, lest they find themselves a fatality of a stray bullet: they are both unarmed, and too far away to get to the arms room to get their weapons.)

Sgt Erwin

Hay, I knew something was up…I felt it!


They’re opening fire!

(bullets flying, some ten feet away from the truck; you can hear the banging of the bullets now! bang~! bang~! bang~)

● Fifteen minutes later

Sgt Erwin

Well, well, well, look at all these bodies

(—they are about 300-feet from the fence now, and standing by a water tower; the fire is still going on, but arbitrarily, not rapid like it was; more controlled. The three machine guns have killed 150-Pows and wounded 350. The great attempt to escapee has been nullified. John sees the instigator, points him out to the sergeant, later on the sergeant will report him to the commander, and they will put him in the center of the compound, where the American troops practice marching with the Rock Army [South Koreans], and shoot him in the head, to show the onlookers, this is what happens to instigators, he knows the rulers and he dies honorable.)

The Mockery

When the leader was asked before he died: why did so many follow you so blindly to make such a stupid attempt to escape, his words were: “For Freedom!” And the irony of it is: the very thing they gave their lives up for is what they would deny their opponent, or their so called enemy: the South Koreans.

Sgt Erwin

Can we safely get out of here?


I think the worse is over; no one is climbing gthe wire, I Could go and check?

Sgt Erwin

No, not yet, let things cool down a bit, forget the breakfast, we’re going to have to do some me…medical work I do believe; or documentation I think. Incident reports, they’re starting them now, I see corporal…so and so doing them, can’t remember his damn name. Take some pictures if you want, of the dead, the wounded, and let me have the camera when you’re done, I’ll take a few also, send them home.


Alright sergeant…lets walk and see what we can see— what a big mistake they made.

(Both the Sergeant and Private started walking about, looking at the dead, bodies laying in the barbwire, on the ground, being stacked one on the other, with their heavy winter coats on, mouths wide open, eyes staring: John taking pictures. The medic’s came out, bandaging the wounded, you could see white heads, arms, legs, of the wounded and dying; bullets pierced 350-Pows they were all being cared for, in one way or another. One soldier just in his t-shirt was asking questions, writing down answers. The sergeant pointed out the leader to the commander, he was taken away, and he’d be dead in a few hours: an exhibition in the now empty military field, would take place, and he’d be the attraction.

Sgt Erwin

Look over there John; they’ve lined up, thirty of them or so. That one there with his eyes in the air, he’s visualizing what’s coming I bet. The other one in the center, he’s thinking he’s pretty lucky he’s not one of the dead. The other one next to him is looking down, I think he’s overwhelmed by all of this, and I see a few faces in shock, the dock will have to care for them. It’s all a mess.


Could be, could be, I’ll have to figure out tomorrow what fingers prints I don’t need to keep I suppose, I mean, don’t need anymore, if we can get a good count, and get the right names of the dead.

Sgt Erwin

We’re all going to be busy tonight.

Demonic Giants: Return to the Circle of Refiam [a play]

Demonic Giants:
Return to the: Circle of Refiam
[A play]

By Dennis L. Siluk

“There were giants in the earth in those days, and also after…and they bare children…the same became mighty men…men of renown.” Gen. 6:4 [The Nephilm/giants of those days.]

“It shall be exactly as it was in the days before Noah” Matt. 24:38; Luke 17:27

The Nephilm
(Cold Twilight)) A Short Epic Poem))

The twilight was cold
Only warm garments
From pelts to cover their flesh!
(They came in the middle of winter
To the circle of the Raphaim
Came descending from the heavens
(The Shinning Ones, the Nephilm);
Came from the cosmos,
To put yokes around the necks
Of humankind—humanity’s loveliest!
To put yokes around their shadows
In the cold twilight of the night;
They had come to kill Jews
To subdue Jerusalem
To make there woes right.
(Old Giants of old,
Angelic renegades;
Watchers from the Heavens.)

When they slept, they rested—
Besides a roaring fire!…
And the wind and air filled with
Whirling particles, Pieces of faces,
Shadows exposed—all with deep
Yellowish-red glows.

Damned by God, His rebellious foes
(These giant with pre-historic souls));
This gray ocean of demonic beasts
Blazing a path through history:
Came with sullen roars of madness
Of revenge for old woes…!

Note: 5/29/06 #1361/Written at El Parquetito, Lima, Peru

Act I

Scene I

Agdo, Daughter to Shamhat

Twilight just appeared over the city of Jerusalem, and the Golan Heights, of Israel (prior to the 1967 war, the Golan Heights belong to Syria). The Circle of Refiam (diameter 159-meters; an archeological site) is in front of two beings, mostly shadows to any observers that might be around; the monument they are standing in front of is 5200-years old, called ‘The Circle of Refiam’. Horrep is an old soldier descendant of Og (the Giant king: King Of Bashan)) Deuteronomy 3)); whom was one of the sacred watchers over earth. His kind were killed off many years ago, and built this circle of stones 37,000 tones of stones, in a number circle-ruins; there are two openings, to this site—and in the center toped by a tumulus [mound] 20-meters across; this ancient ruin is one of the lost great wonders of the world. It was in the days before the flood and then there after, when his kind (Horrep: giants of old) escaped earth, and those who stayed behind, were killed by King David almost completely killed off, they said they’d return: they have now, and they seem to look similar to aliens, over 13-feet tall.


Curse all the generals that I was not a king, or the leader way back when, where it all began.


You notice! There is no suiting Israel, we must all wear the sword; He now has the power of many.


And how shall I pay in silver, gold, euros or dollars? For this war we, and the rest of us are going to start, we are who we are, but in this world, money is power! Not just supernatural abruptness.


And who shall guard the indulgence of our army?


I shall rob the city blind, then the country, then, and the world.


While you can.


I’ve had worse jobs, being a corrupt leader has its advantages; I realize time will prove me the slayer of many, but I will be dead in hell, with the rest of my kind! Even if Roe doesn’t think so, we are all domed.


Yes, you are probably right, so give me the night with all I dream, a song, and wine, a dancing-girl before we start our havoc.

(Horrep, older than the Raphaim Circle, lies down; enfolded in his hide, on the earthwork (near the fortification: by one of the two entrances; and in a minute is asleep)


Sleep, well my beastly friend: we will need it. Violence has come back to thy face! Gone long, and now thou’rt like a child who wants revenge on his father’s garden. How deep anger dips us in its swamp! I was made of you…I have seen only what you have told me…but who come hereunto?

(Enters Adgo, a girl from a nearby village)

What is your skill, do you buy and sell?


I give, I do not buy or sell, and I provide what you desire.


Aha, a dream-wish I asked Horrep for! You are early.


My last task went quickly.


I see you have wine?


Plenty of everything; I see your father is sleeping?


He says the world is flaccid, feeble, weak, devoid of blood, and cares not of animals, so with his power he will change the minds of man, for they are dead inhabitants, we are giant ghosts from the netherworld, so all may believe, or will believe? David killed many off in is day my father told me. We have come back to reclaim our birthright, here at this stone structure, where once we were called Titans, or giants of the Nephilm race. King Og was my father’s father. He ruled from Mount Hermon…and beyond (and lived at Ashtarot, a Canaanite city). King David’s nephew also killed many of my father’s offspring, Johathan; they were the ones who built this circle you know, a time before Noah’s boat. Og hid in Noah’s boat, and had many children by is daughters, my father was one, so he says; he was, Og, one of the ones who fell from heaven.


I smell your flesh it is sweet.


I’m in no hurry I will be yours.


My father is an evildoer.


I have nothing to fear, I have brought myself to you as he asked!


My father is waiting for the rest of his kind, our kind, I fear they will split your appealing head, open your cloak and do you harm! But now I want, I want to see why man and beast and even us adore your kind—so open your cloak for me.

(Enter Xaro, a rich old Arab mercantile)


And who are you? Your business please!


I followed a light that descended a few hours ago, and here you are, I dare ask, who are you? Are you an alien? A demigod of old? Are you not far from home?


Far from home, my father lies sleeping there, this woman is mine, and you ask me as if you are my sire (?)


No, we fight Israel, and you are on land that Israel took, and then King David was a Jew, and so have… you come to help us? Your maiden seems well favored.


She is, but of humble birth, like you. It is late and you should have a guard to venture forth as you do with us.


We have prayed for great soldiers to help us defeat the Zionist!


It is as my father says: all in time see that you take care of your own, as we shall.


Come lay with me, among the great monument my ancestors built so long ago.


Yes, yes, I know now, you are the Sidonians, also called Sirion, the giants of old.

(Exert a pull on Adgo’s hand, as Xaro is left alone, Noge goes into the circle)) The Gilgal Refiam; parts of it look like an ancient burial monument, with many dolmens [tombs], and an astronomical complex: the stranger paces about looking at Horrep sleeping, and listening to Noge and Adgo make love, then after an hour you hear them talking)


One more day, and the mystery of us, our presence will befall the earth, they will think we are aliens, angelic beings come here to set things right with the world, but we are the wind, the colder wind, the black sunrise, the unblessed, with unwilling hearts.

(Xaro, kicks Horrep with the tip of his foot, and watches him stir)


(Wakes up, rising, sees Xaro)

A bug! Why do you wake me? (Pointing his large fist at Xaro)


I saw your light, and I saw the darkness in the eyes of your son, who is making love to Adgo, behind the walls of the Great Circle. Yes, here the two come…they hold hands. They seem to walk on air; perhaps your son has had his fill of lovemaking and knows now the pleasures of a woman.


My kind will come in the morning to these gates of the circle. Go tell your kind we have arrived before I get up and stomp on you.

(Horrep is getting up, singing a song)

Song of Absence
[Dedicated to the: Raphiam Giants]

‘T was far absent, ‘t was far missing,
Untamed aloft in a night long past!
‘T is but a few hours left to pass,
You then will see thy face by day.

‘T was long-ago, ‘t was long past,
We ruled thee during your untied era.
Our kind found your lot, fond and fair
Until they made us: foe and prey.

Long ago, ever since, we took our bliss
In dreams to come back, and embrace
The world and its dirty face,
Somehow we cannot forget thy kiss.

#1347 5/12/2006

Now be gone Arab before I eat you…!

Act I

Scene 2

Noge, of the Nephilm

At the South East Gate, of this megalithic site, two hundred of these giant demigods stand, as if to guard the site, Roe, the Captain, or leader stands with Horrep and his son Noge, and Adgo is behind them, she’s naked; Opal (one of Lucifer’s henchmen), from the gates of Hell, opens the new gates to the Gilgal Refiam Circle. The gates are opened.


The hinges on the gates make a groaning sound, like the bones in our old but now, new bodies, as ghostly they were; now back into the flesh they are, stiff and with light.


Here come some soldiers with that old man, Xaro.

(The Soldiers with Xaro)

Soldier says:

She’s naked! (And then look at the many giants shinning bright)


The Shinning One’s of Old?

A Soldier says:

She is beautiful!

(An Arab General speaks to Xaro)


My thanks for this spectacle; you may go now if you wish!

Roe (To the General)

Be quiet, stand back, or I shall burn your eyes out!


I do not know them, haters of Israel I think.


Who are you, are you all mad (the soldiers hands on weapons)) rifles, guns))

(Roe’s gaze is of a blue, red-hot light, several of the General’s soldiers look at him, and their eyes turn to crust, as if looking directly into the sun. Two Giants laugh, standing in the background: they say not a distinguishable word, watch Roe and the General)

(Noge looks at the girl’s nude body)


Cover your loins.

(She is unashamed, and picks up a flower behind her, and covers herself. The soldiers and the giants become restless, as the General is stunned at what took place, and now rifles are pointed at the giants)


Who are you? We would like your help with Israel?


We are all Angelic gods, superhuman (he takes the Generals pistol from his hip and points it at him, and fires: the bullet stops in midair as his eyes has focused on it, and slowed it down)

Witless you are, this bullet…why did you come here? (The bullet still in midair; he then looks at the girl:)

Such allure. (The bullet has now speeded up, and killed the general as he had turned his head, and the soldiers have started shooting at the giants)


Nay —should I hide from your weapons? Kneel and worship me or die! I shall no longer hide like we did so long ago.



(They do as kneel down before him, as Noge puts the generals jacket on Adgo. Cloaks her)


If I do not conceal your beauty from their gaze, what am I to do.

(She is silent; Roe is now looking at her)


Shall the gods take her Noge?


Be gentle with her.

(They, the giants of old, were all now speaking among themselves in an alien tongue, yet she seemed to know what was going on)


Say something to me, so I can hear your voice, Adgo, for you have spoke to my subordinate. What say she? Off with the jacket!

(Noge took the jacket off the girl; she is froze with fear and cannot say a word now)

Voices of the Giants:

Make her dance before us! Give us the girl Roe, that we may make love to her!!


See Adgo, what you have done to my host, they have not had flesh in 4000-years, you will pay for this: take her away Noge, and give her to them all. And you, merchant, go with these soldiers and tell the world we are here and how you worshiped me. Then Noge, kill the slut, once the crave is gone from all my Nephilm.

Here is our home, fall in around her.

(Noge now takes the girl back aground the gates of the Circle, as the soldiers followed the merchant away from the site.

Act I

Scene 3

Azaz’el [Grigori or Angelic-Watcher of the Pre flood era]

Behind the stone structure know as the Circle of Refiam, the first of a number of circles of stones placed on top of one another, balance perfectly, some weighting 30 to 50 tones, huge in size (a monument crumbling into the ground because of its age, and lack of maintenance), the horde of angelic beings, giants known as the Nephilm all go behind with the female Adgo. At this time, Azaz’el, the leader of the Nephilm, who now has appeared on the scene (Roe being the captain), gives news of a 3rd temple to be built in Jerusalem soon (a sign that the war in the Valley of Raphaim will quickly develop, and that is why the Raphaim have returned, even though the ruler of the Europe Union has made an agreement with Israel to avoid war, it will be broken; even though Noge has some reservations on this matter, ignorant somewhat.


Soon, Noge, you shall know it all. I need to make you ready for the last battle, my heart is sad, it will be our misfortune, I shall describe things hurriedly for you, don’t mind what happens to the hussy.


She is only ill behaved because we want her to be father.


The woman, with her the worse is to come between us I do believe. She never should have been let through the gates, naked as an egg, and here she is, to be taken by all, we act like dogs, shameless.


But father we have eyes that are false, hers are not, she is of real flesh.

(You can hear her crying in the background, in the middle of the horde of angelic beings: giants)


You have not seen, I have. You mistake this marvel of a woman to mean more than it is; she is no more than a mountain rat, a brothel pig.


Hurry up with her, stare and look, and be done with her or I shall go mad She— (a long pause)

Hell tells you…to be ready for the battle to come, you will have your time for killing, this is but one woman, there are more.

Noge (speaking to Azaz’el):

She is no immortal like us, do not harm her, or I will not obey you when the time comes to battle. Tell Vii not to hurt her, put aside your anger, and let her live: should I not have her again?

(Vii is making love to her now in the circle around her you have not heard her speak, only cries)


Vii, bid that she speak, and if she does, do not harm her, incarcerate her when you are done, so we her lover can have her later, put her in a tomb here in the circle.

(To Noge) Perhaps her tongue is alien to us, we shall speak in English, or Hebrew, or Arabic, whatever pleases her, is this fine with you? Be off with her soon… we cannot stand around her forever staring at her flesh: I’ve got work to do. She is a distraction, perhaps by the Jews; possibly she is sent to quiet us, when you see her beauty, your heart burns, you are innocent of this I know, and you are your father’ shame. Trust me, in days not hours, the temple will be built, and we will war with Israel, and King David will not save them as he did so long ago in the Valley of Raphaim. (He walks away, leaves Noge and Horrep by themselves, standing back from the horde; Vii stops, takes the woman by the hand and leads her out by and tomb, she is saying something to him, indistinguishable)

Noge (to his father Horrep):

How does God work?

Horrep (looking at his son):

David killed many giants in his day, had many victories over Philistine; he sings songs about it, about God’s love in his Psalms. We, Azaz’el and I and many of us have been trying to figure that out for a long time, David knew.


Then why are we going to fight with Azaz’el against the Jews, I mean, if God has favor with David, and David is with God, and David was a Jew, why do we come here to this land we got kicked out of, and ran into the comics so long ago; why do we stay to kill more Jews?


Perhaps because we think it is our threshold, it is thus a home. Yea! Those questions, pierce my cheeks, they are defiled! Hold your tongue, it is like a spear.

(Several of the Giant soldiers heard a few of the last words Horrep spoke, turned about…confusion on their faces.)

God sent his angels to help David; they were on the tops of trees, with swords; that is how he won two of the battles: the ones in this valley called the Valley of Refiam. You are one of the last of your kind you know. I say one of the last, for Saint Christopher came from our stock. He was 18-feet tall, he come from a tribe of cannibals, like our ancestors. He was ugly, and died around 300 AD, he became a martyr, he became a Christian; he came from Africa, the Marmaritae tribe. He was like you, always asking questions.


But father before the days of Enoch you were born, what then?


For the last time I beg you to hold your mouth you are my son! It is just how it is, you trample on my heart, and you are worse than the harlot I purchased for you, and I get this. But I shall tell you this…

(Vii had left the girl on a tombstone; she is naked and staring at the horde gathered together a distance away: she glances back and forth between the horde and Noge)) Azaz’el is nearby listening to the conversation between Noge and his father; he was coming to let Noge know where the girl was but did not want to interrupt; thus, now Vii and Azaz’el stand together listening)

…actions and emotions—is what it is all about. Maybe our enemies were humans all along, the very ones we were protecting from the clouds. We became paralyzed by God’s love and care for them early on, to be honest; I suppose that is close enough to the truth. We never waited for God’s voice, we didn’t listen to Him when it did come, but came down-to-earth as if it was the courtroom, and we gave sentence to earth. That was that…! ~

Act 1, scene 1 and 2; Written 5/13/06. Act 1 scene 3, written 5/14/06.

Act II

Scene 1

Return of the Last of the Rujmel-Hiri’ Giants

The Human Origins: possible a mixture of ancient genetic mutations
And a face-lift from Homo habilis to Homo creatures we are today. But who did the uplifting? dlsiluk

(Noge wants more information, and as Sirgylam shows up with several ancient warriors of the past (angelic giants with him), Sirgylam, agrees to tell him how it was back in his day, since no one else will, and his father has remained silent on that subject. You see Noge and his father, along with Sirgylam saying something…)

Circle of the Refiam
The Last Raphaim Giant

Sirgylam— (tells his story to Noge):

It was 5200-years ago when we built these great walls, prior to this we sat on the top of Mount Hermon where there we had built “The Gateway to the Sun,” a one time treasure, that is, a few centuries back when the forefathers of the Atlantis’ nation was alive and prosperous. Everything is gone but this pile of stones. I was the last of that generation of Raphaim Giants.

I was one of the sons [Sirgylam: talking about himself] of the so called: “Old Ones,” from the seed of Semyaz, his father and Farina, a human he cohabitated with; Semyaz being a renegade angelic being like your father.
We had at time that time a Raphaim Empire, this circle temple of sorts you are standing by, the Gilgal Refiam [in the Golan Heights area of Israel, otherwise part of Syria] was part of the empire. We were all wicked ones, tyrants and bullies. You Noge, are son of an angelic being, born from the union of gods, and humans, which formed the basis for your demigod status, terrestrial looks; half-man, Titan one may say. Your brothers and sisters were all killed in war, all 7496 of them. It was a time when the Moabites lived in the Middle East.

—Back then (Sirgylam continues to speak) we knew extinction was nearby for the most part, being some twenty-feet tall, and having an enormous weight, we turned into cannibals. My hands as big as a person’s mid-section, and my eye-socks as wide as a person head, it was if anything, hard to hide ourselves in those days, when war broke out, as in the days of King David, when our offspring took our places in battle.
Your father remembers the village people trying to feed our offspring, but it came to the point, it was point-less, they worked day and night for us. And now times had changed, there was only one giant left, not two or three or some other uncountable number; many of us escaped to the cosmos. I was left behind, for a while. Ura’el was sent from heaven and he chained and banished many of us; I went to the islands in the Pacific. And for a long-time Azaz’el was put under tons of rocks, was a bit depressing. Furthermore he knew his days were numbered anyhow, as I did, and your father did.
In thought, I am reminiscing my father Semyaz, and his friend’s father and companion, Azaz’el, who were both magnificent angelic beings at one time, gone bad though, one of the ‘Old One’s’ as they are now known, who were assigned to guard over the earth, and took it upon themselves to cohabitate with human flesh. Then shortly after that took place, they ruled the earth with an iron hand. You never witnessed this because you were born in the latter days.
It was the golden period you could say for us; a time when I myself Sirgylam was young, and stupid and vile. I’d sit and play the dragon-skinned drums to appease my father and his guests. Many of the demonic beings of those days, visited my fathers den, and he was introduced to many as I was. At that time I was over 500-years old, old for a demigod, but not too old, surely not like Azaz’el, or even your father.

Sirgylam: the Raphaim Giant

I even knew the ugly giant of the Cedar Forest named Humbaba. And so now you know, and let it rest so we can get on with our war games.

The Stone Raphaim

(Unmindful of his previous form the giant Sirgylam heads to the gateway of the Raphaim Circle, to greet the other two hundred, and the few that came with him.)


I think son you are not wise in this, to want to know all (The Captain Roe is watching both Horrep and Noge from a distance)


I wonder if more than Vii had her?


More about that woman again, Agdo, forget her.


Vii’s face was red as fire.


The girl’s a wild one, let who will be fearful of her. You my son are a dreamer, we are all here now, and Azaz’el will soon give us his plan.


I must see the girl.


The way you are hounding after her, it is an unlikely chance Azaz’el will allow it.

(Several of the giants are casting dice to see who will be allowed to visit the girl next, Noge sees and hears what is going on; the girl is sitting on a tomb, dumb like, saying nothing)

(Horrep to Noge:)

Why does she not scream? Yes, she is more than willing, too willing, her blood is hot. I think she will be a curse on our luck! She has no cloak on. How still the night is.

(Horrep grabs his son, and they both sit down, as he was about to walk over to see Agdo, who is watching the dice players, and Noge)) Watching off and on; Semyaz grabs the dice, he is one of the old ones, an angelic renegade, and dangerously powerful, Noge see this, and Semyaz sees Noge notice, and Azaz’el sees them looking both at one another and the girl))

Act II

Scene 2

Secret of the Beast: “Even if you win, you lose”

[2016 AD]

Advance: The World: it had come the last days; dramatic prophetic events were about to happen to earth. Israel was about to come under fire from an Army from the North [Russia]; An Arab Confederacy developed; Egypt was very much involved with this new order. Conquests, the Antichrist was near by. Oil and Gold were running wild at the stock market. A Superpower bends Egypt’s knees. … Massive starvation was now taking place, and the United Nations could do nothing about it. Inflation hit the world under satanic influence, like an earthquake, skyrocketing inflation, and food riots and chaos; there was much international strife. Cataclysmic pole shifts were taking place, as the earth tumbles about, its crust slips a bit, trying to for an alignment. And on the Radio, and TV, the world leader speak:)

World Leader: Ye, this among gentiles, prepare for war, we will wake up to the mighty men of the world for it is time for our war, let them come up: beat your plowshares into swords…come, one and all, gather yourselves with me, come to the Valley Jeshoshaphat.

(And they came with alcohol, drugs and swords, and guns, and every thing possible, and the world saw much epidemic, and this was happening, while at the Circle of Refiam, much foolishness going on)

Azaz’el (to Horrep and Noge):

Men fall her beauty, and demons try to understand it, but they both glory under her flesh, and want more of it.


There are no laws with us pertaining to humans, never have been, but Noge makes rules for us like humans.


First tell how thou com’tst to find this woman called Agdo, who is she?


She came to me, not I to her.


Tell me with no more ado!


I was on Mt. Hermon, waiting for a sign, waiting for you, it was cold, the night vast, and stars over my head, I felt odd, it was 5000-years since I had been back here. I felt sounds of drums, it broke my silence, and deep thinking, and they sank into my being, as if they were pulling the cords of my heart, several harlots appeared and they got my attention, I cold hear their deep breathing, I cold see her deep lips, voiceless, she called me to her, Agdo. Then all of a sudden she was standing next to me, and her friends had gone; it was my silent wish to have her, she read my mind, and I knew you would want her, your first flesh, and from a beautiful woman.


You sure it was she?


That one (pointing his finger at Agdo; I know it was herm my hands were on her breasts.


Yes! Then what? Did she speak? What did she say?


Aye, what? This was her mystery, she didn’t need to, a gleam, a look, an echo in my mind, and she was all of this. I think it is God’s silence in her (the Jews magic); she can take enormous pain, she made love to me. The girl is not dumb, she just does not tell her secrets.


She is the most loveliest and strange of all things, more beautiful than day and night.


See her, she looks so placid, she looks for the end of us, destruction.

(Vii is now walking, moving slowly towards her)


I told him to leave her alone!


We have other business to attend to; she has taken enough of our time. We must enter the gates of Jerusalem soon, and into the Valley for the battle. I know not why he fools with this hussy. She walks and makes no sound. She smiles and music comes from her. All things come for a reason.

(All the giants, demon, angelic renegades are looking at the woman, her eyes now cast down, all pause to look, to think, silently: who is she)

(Vii has stopped, he seems to be frozen, no one knows why, she has lifted her head a ting, and her eyes see Vii that is all)


I remember once, a beautiful silver strange angelic being by the name of Ura’el came down to earth when we were cohabitating with the humans, God sent him, and he buried many of us for 5000-years, some of us here, others got away, but now we are all back, Beware now how thou dost see her, use her, lest you end up under stones like we were…!


That is for her to prove, who she is.

(Now Azaz’el started walking towards her, he has had enough of the parade of events she has created ((angrily))

(Azaz’el is now standing by Vii, takes a hard blow to his head, wakes him up form a spell, or something)


Stay with me (he tells Vii and they both walk horridly to her). Her spirit and flesh are not of time, she has come form a different time then this, I know that, not sure why, or how, but I seem to have good second sight today, unless she is communicating something to my mind silently.

(Now they are in front of her, and he goes to grab her, and as the slightest touch sudden wings come to defend her, out of her back, above her should, below her waist, from her things. The sting, have thorns on them, they torment with their stings, and both Vii and Azaz’el’ step back))

Vii (stuttering):

She has immortality.


I will part those legs and those lips and rip her apart (now you see the gazing of lions in her eyes, and Azaz’el is unsure of what to do)

Act II

Scene 3

Agaliarept: the Henchman of Hell

Agaliarept, the Henchman of Hell

(Agaliarept, has now appeared at the site called: the Circle of Refiam. And he calls to Azaz’el, he knows who she is)


I am, the General of a legend of demon in hell, and I am Lucifer’s right hand man there: the Henchman of Hell they call me. I know who this woman is, Lucifer has sent me, he hears the chaos she is causing here, he is the king, the god of the air you know, and has sent me to explain. She is the daughter of Shamhat, the temple priestess of old Sumerian Uruk; dating back perhaps to 2700 BC, if not longer; the time of Gilgamish. She was the prostitute of Enkidu. Leave her daughter to her own, she is harmless, and only your distraction, Agdo’s penitence is this: you are her penitence.

(White doves appear and fly over her head, silver fire comes from her mouth, her breasts are not covered, and other parts of her body covered by wings. Azaz’el is angry, and tries to get closer to her, to harm her, and Agaliarept shakes his head, he didn’t seem to listen to him, and time is of the essence. As Azaz’el tries to touch her again, she turns into a scarlet butterfly. And is gone.


Yea! The northern armies have come now to overthrow Jerusalem, I have heard them fighting, and we were to join the battle (Azaz’el looking for the butterfly)) Semyaz speaking to everyone but Azaz’el))


This was a trick to lure me into lust, and then my son, who is innocent of such feelings, and now the battle of Jerusalem is lost because of us, I fear, over a harlot. She is the witch of God, of Israel.


Father, she is just a girl?


Of course, what else, if Lucifer finds out we are condemned to his wickedness likened to the dogs of hell? She brought this doom upon us; Russia has attacked Israel, and a nuclear attack has taken place, Russia has lost many men (telepathically).


Scene One

The Apocalypse of the Nosferatu Nephilm
[Circle of the Refiam]

[A month has passed since the battle] The first battle between Israel and the Northern Armies of the World has come and gone (Israel has had help, in winning the battle with its friends), and now a greater battle is developing between Israel and its enemies: China, Europe and the Arab Confederation of states, and they are under one head, a Dictator of Europe, called by the Christian world and Israel’s inner circle as: the Little Horn [or the Antichrist]. As this battle develops, the giants of old, and new arrivals from the cosmos, the underworld, and other hidden places: come to the Circle of the Refiam; also the pits of hell have been open and the scorpions have come up and out, by Azaz’el’s command, which he is in essence the legendary Scorpion King. These Scorpions are ruining around the world stinging the death out of those who will not subject their wills and locality to the new king of kings, the Little Horn. Azaz’el has kept Agdo in prison, and many are using her sexually, to include Noge, his first love. They are at the Circle of Refiam, in Israel, in the valley, and have mad campsites here and there, within the circle of rocks and bounders, and outside the Refiam Circle. Presently, Noge is outside with his father Horrep and Agaliarept, the Henchman of hell. Azaz’el is near by a bonfire. Roe the Captain is with his friend Horrep, Noge’s father.

Azaz’el’s Song

I have no old gifts for thee
No perfumes or Vampric words:
Only my hate that storms in me
Like the fires in the halls of hell
Whence the soul follows beyond the earth.

Ye, likened to the moon and sunrise
We are slaves to lustful illume ways
In the valley of sacred multiorgasmic
We have seduced the women of earth
And given birth to hybrid Nephilm.

Note: 5/28/06, #1353


Father why am I obsessed with lust for this Agdo?


Oh yes, I feared this would happen, and especially with Agdo, the harlot of Shamhat, of Uruk. But I shall tell you the long story, in its short version; perhaps you will understand who we are more also. Nothing is as simply as you’d like it to be (at that moment more angelic and demigods were appearing at the Circle of Raphiam, as Horrep spoke to his son; there was Yegon: he was the one who had lead the children of the angels to earth and perverted them long ago; and Asb’el, showed up, he gave to the children of long ago, evil counsel, mislead them, and they defiled their bodies. And there was Gader’el, he showed the children of the people blows of death, and misled Eve. And Pinem’e: who taught the children how to use ink and paper; these angels were the ones who used the forces of earth and the angelic essence of the cosmos and with a cabbalistic formula created energy called MAGI ((now called: Quantum Mechanics)); as I was about to say son, nothing is like it seems.


I know Azaz’el is the scapegoat; everyone talks about all the time that is about all I know I suppose. Who slew him long ago?


It was Ura’el, God’s …nothing, we were all God’s angels before he sent Ura’el to bind Azaz’el. ‘T was by sorcery he got loose to come back here I think.


He is deaf and blind to passion.


Perhaps we don’t have none ourselves. We were dreamers back then, locked in the clouds, and lust condemned us, like dead lions.


Nay! It was God and Ura’el, and now we must make earths people die more slowly! Ura’el slew us all. This is not surely known, he left no mark upon us. Like marble he cloaked himself, and we could not harm him. Who fears not even the death, we did, but then I wanted to die myself, and couldn’t. And now the Little Horn, the monarch comes to demand our help, with his trumpets forth. ‘T is strange he needs our keep, the king of sorcery, demon, and now this girl, whom is seemingly dumb, throws accurse on us all, torments us, we are born to lust.


But explain all this to me father, as you were about to before…!

[It is midnight, the demon and angelic renegades, the watchers as they are known are seated about the fire, in a semi-circle, and the lovely captive who had disappeared as a butterfly, now captured again, dances for the immortals, Agdo]


As I was about to say: it all started somewhat like this: we watched the human females for a long time, and along with Azaz’el we all came down, all two hundred of us to participate in human sex, we cold have multiorgasmic results, like females; human males could not, this we were irritable. Some of our children could only perform 50-climaxes, but that was more than the humans. And us Withers were limitless. Then we went to Samara, and Anunnak, became king, about 5000-years ago. There it was started the selection of kings according to how many orgasms they could have, to prove they were of an angelic origin. Later on Gilgamish came into the picture, he may show up here yet.

The Scorpion King was praised by many, he is none other than Azaz’el, or Ptah, or the Divine Blacksmith, he was known by many names, he also help created the Vampric legends, which I will get to soon. Our lustful ways is what triggered God’s anger, and brought forward the Great Flood. I was part of all this history you know. I hid you for a long time. Anyhow, you have discovered multiple orgasms are possible for our kind, and we have no male refractory period; again I say, like human females. This was divine love, something; human males could not compete with.

Nosferatu, the Vampire world came alive when we moved to…(a pause); I should explain who ‘we’ are in this story: we meaning: Samlazaz, Araklba, Rameel, Kokablel, Tamlel, and Asael (Asael, again is Azaz’el)) and myself, also known as sons of God)). We were known as the Watchers, the Nephilm, the fallen ones, thus forfeiting our first estate forever, God forbid, but we did; there was two hundred of us, and it was an exodus to the land of Sumer, and then onward to a new location… we were brothers, and servants of God at one time; it may be she knows what use she is for us: we became obsessed even in Sumer as now, with eroticism, incest, pedophilia, sacred prostitution, as this woman is a symbol of our sexual freedoms we had long ago, and cultivated to the whole world, destined for, she sees us as sacrilege, but speaks she nod to us, only allows us our pleasure…

(Noge interrupts: father, please get back to the story!)

…there was what we called ‘Hieros Gamos’ (the sacred marriage, for kings who had the capacity for leadership, also had to have the capacity for sexual reenactment with the priestess, it was the Sumerians we instructed in this multiorgasmic rite, Inanna (Gilgamish’s mother), the de Goddess was the teacher.

(Noge interrupts: father, where did you go after Sumer?)

…I was getting to that son, be patient. They had sex for 30-hours, this rite of Uruk’s which we demanded of the kings, so only demigods would be elected. Or allowed to sit on the throne. Thus, the Anunnak bloodline started, he was a Canaanite Nephilm you know, the taught women sexual pleasures. King Menes, also known as the Scorpion King, was the first Pharaoh; some of us went to Egypt, around 3500 BC. He was a decent of demigods, like you.

And for your question, after Sumer we went to the mountains, to Transylvania (the Raphiam of Romania), where Vampirism came to light. We were scattered all over the world, and this was one location. We had Rephiamic tribes hidden in the mountains. The stories of excessive sex, derived from us. Here the royal Racoci family line is in Saint Germain, he lived you know 700-years, as was the mysterious count (Cmte).

And through our sexual encounters, we did bit a few people, and we had, or our sons had I should say, a disease, and they gave it to the humans; actually our kind was immune to its death, it spread, and was named tuberculosis; all because one day we decided to quench our sexual obsessiveness.


Death Sentence

Scene Two

[Same location, the bonfire is burning high into the sky, flickers of fire fly about, there is some unrest with the demonic force that has come to the Circle of Refiam; now Noge and his father are alone standing back as they were, the others have joined the circle around the fire, and he, Noge asked the forbidden question…]


Father, what are we going to do after the next battle, for it is called the last Great Battle for the souls of mankind: Armageddon?


A good question indeed, one I’d rather avoid. We shall not be immortal I fear, through me, you will die as I will die, exactly how, I do not know, yet I know the day of reckoning is near, Judgment Day. A bed of stone is laid for us.


What God hath told you of these tidings I hear through thy lips?


Blasphemy! That is we. The fire shall purge us. Where is God? that is our proof of our reckoning?


It is not that I wish to question you (Horrep interrupts: she remains silent in the bed of many Nephilm: we should spread her upon the coals until she tells us what we want to know, who she is, who sent her)…Nay, not to thee nor any of our kind, but I know so little for such darkness to come to me shall I speak out to Him, to God?


God has knowledge of our will; you stripped her, as she whimpered in a gaze, you have already been tested, and failed; Her great eyes brought you down.


But it was you who brought her to me, so it is you I should blame for my shame, if I shall ever stand in front of God.

Horrep [eyebrows high, almost wanting to laugh]:

(The girl is dancing naked round the fire, as all the Nephilm, one after other, are rapping her—and Noge watches)

Yea, not beauty, but Hell is what you watch, cast out your eyes if you wish to talk to the God about mercy. For you lust as we lusted after flesh. It was simply your first encounter.

(And with no hesitation, Noge, plucked out both his eyes, and Horrep in horrid shock, walked away frazzled; thus, the deed was done, and all Noge could hear now was: we wait thy word, Azaz’el, give us the dog…and the Nephilm started to stone Noge…then the same voice said: burn him!… and they did. And for the first time ever, they saw immortal flesh burn like human flesh. And these words came from Azaz’el: vanished god, be gone I shall see thy soul in Hell. And Horrep said: At least thou deist! And they all heard Noge’s last words: echo even after his death: ‘T is so attested in my faith.)

The Fruitcake [A Romantic Comedy & Tragedy]

(Narrative ((story)) written for the Screen)

The Fruitcake
A Romantic Comedy & Tragedy

A Play by

Dennis L. Siluk

In English and Spanish

Poeta Laureado de San Jerónimo de Perú

Copyright © 2004 Dennis L. Siluk
The Fruitcake
(Narrative ((story)) written for the Screen)

Special thanks to:

Rosa Peñaloza and Nancy
Peñaloza for editing and translating from
The English to the Spanish

Characters and Index:

Main Characters

The Doctor: --Dr. Bash
The Nurse: --Rosario
The Roommate: --Oliver Reams
The Fiancé: --Eva Fremont
The Patient/Husband: --Lee Walters

Minor Characters

*The Mother [Eva’s parent]: --Holly
*The Father [Eva’s parent]: --Bruce

*Elsie [Lee Walters Mother]

Miscellaneous Characters

Glen and Harry [Friends of the family at the trailer park]
The Gate Keeper at the Trailer Park
The bartender
The gay man at the bar

Music: Composition and Lyric’s by D. L. Siluk [see annex at end of book]

Music: “It Was Always You” With Feeling
“The Dancer” Brite 4
“Death [departure] Easy Waltz
“The End of Day’s” Talk
“As Love Goes By”

Chapters/or Acts:

Act I In the Hospital
Act II In the Trailer Park
Act III Back at the Hospital
Act IV At the Apartment [three poetic-musical lyrics read]
Act V Before the Bar/Outside the Apartment
Act VI The Jam Bar/the Tragedy

The Annex: The Poetic-Music/Lyrics [composition in Annex]

Additional Poetry: “2nd Ave”


Songs in lyrics:

Five songs of sheet music [available]

Notes: Fragments of Life
[About the story]

A Note on the construction: The first Act was written 3/2003, the second and third Act’s were written 4/2003; Act five written in 5/2003. The play has been written in a way to be read, similar to a screenplay one might say. The first week of July, 2003, the play was re-edited, and lightly modified, preparation for publication; reviewed for publication, and some new reconstruction for clarity sake, was made, 2/2006—3/1/06.

A Play by

The Fruit Cake

Act I

In the Hospital

This is the “hospital” room of Lee Walters. The room [and, by observation the ward] is big, and let me add noisy –. I can’t say much for the hospital apparatus. Some of the equipment looks like tubes hanging everywhere, not sure where they go and could careless. A copy of the book, “Never-where,” is lying on the table-desk next to his bed. Lee is waiting to go home after surviving a stroke and heart attack; he had some complications with his surgery, but all seems well now; the doctor has explained to him he actually had a second heart attack, the first being two weeks prior to his second, and he didn’t know it, a minor one he assured him, compared to this most recent one, the major one that is, in which he got to the hospital in time.
He has been in the hospital for three weeks now, with bypass surgery, and had a stroke on the operating table, but again I emphasize, he made it through all these trials. You got it: --he’s getting bored, --now, for recovery, it has its own little miracles planted throughout the week. We shall get to that in a moment. He wants the doctors to release him this morning. But just a minute, against the doctor’s better judgment, that is.

Now you see when the curtain goes up, Lee Walters trying to get comfortable in his bed, stumbling with the pillows behind his back and head a bit. And Miss Fremont [let’s just refer to her as “Eva” make life easy] –standing in the doorway, shaking her head [thinking, what a dumb clucks, Lee is; we’ll get to Lee also in a moment] “Some kind of bug in your bed, Lee?” She says. He leans back hard against the back of the bed, boredom on his face, a sound coming out of his mouth, more akin to a hiss, I don’t’ think he appreciated the remark, but then he is getting acclimatized to them, or he should be by now. This situation doesn’t seem to amuse anyone that is, her comments, and his getting situated; he sinks back lower into his bed—

No response

Eva. Lee!

Still no response

Lee, relax please, it isn’t good for you to use so much effort [remarks Eva again]

Yet, there still remains silence from Lee

Ok –-(annoyed)—it’s your show, I could care less [says Eva].

Lee is a thirty-five years old male. He is a Mail Carrier that makes $35,000 dollars a year. He has no whiskers but he keeps rubbing his face as if he has a nervous impulsive reaction. He is a hyper person by nature. His mouth is open a bit, ready to say something, or can’t seem to breathe properly through his nose [one or the other]. In either case, it doesn’t help his already annoyed state of being in the hospital for so long—twenty-one days. He has finally gotten comfortable and lifts his head up to eye level with his fiancé [a light pause], focusing his attention on her face now. She seems a bit dumbfounded now that she has his attention: --lost for words one might say.

Lee. Eva! Do you have something worthwhile to say?

No response


Still no response


Eva [with a tired attitude]. Monkey see, monkey do, isn’t that how it is in our world?

Lee [shaking his head, indignant]. So you say [he sucks in a breath of air] did you come here to point out my faults, or what?

Eva. You can figure that out for yourself smart guy, for yourself.

Lee. I sure can [smugly]!

Eva. I was trying to find out how you were feeling and I got your old snotty remarks as usual; you’re snotty, snotty—shit.

Lee. Gee, I thought you were worried if I had a bug in my ass, I mean bed. Real concerned about my well being, how about you admitting you are part of my boredom, I’m so used to your smart remarks.

Eva. For once you’re half right, I forgot about the ‘bug’ remark. Ok, you win, now let us begin—begin, again, you know, from scratch, ok?

Lee. Oh boy, what does that mean? What am I in store for, another round of trying to fix my pillow so I don’t get annoyed with you again?

The patient in the other bed is getting an ear full

Eva [somberly]. I can’t help it if we annoy one another. We are so used to making fun of everything—we’ve forgot how to be serious. But I was crying when I heard you had a stroke on the operating table, along with your heart surgery, I really was, ask your brother. You know you were out for three days; --your left side was paralyzed—out [a slight pause]; out like having…I don’t want to talk about it. You also were having fits for twelve-hours; man o man, you are so lucky…!

Lee. Yes, I know you were crying, I remember something of that. Dr. Bash, Bush or Bean Head, I don’t know his name [a pause, he tries to get his breath], ok, Dr. Bash came last night and said I was doing great—inasmuch as I came out of this alive. But he added, and I hate to repeat it, but I will, for a while there, I was a “Fruit Cake,” for a while meaning, a few days that is. Can you imagine someone calling you a ‘…fruit cake?’ after you had a stroke?

Eva [looking straight ahead, thinking]. Well [pause], now that you say it, you were kind of one, I mean, you really were kind of a ‘fruit cake’ [Lee looking annoyed at Eva]. Can’t do much about that, can we now—but I suppose it would bother me somewhat, I think. On one hand you were a fruit cake, or out of it, you were having those fits you know, or what do you call those things, you know, makes the body jumppp…all over the place, whatever they were, it wasn’t good. We all thought you would not recover, they [the doctors] were going to put you into a coma state because you had 12-hours of these tantrums; your brother was here, and—and he had a hard time with it as did your mother, she was here everyday, I mean everyday, I think she would have died if you would have; --I’ve seen a few tears in your brothers eyes, but you fooled everyone, and recovered in three days. Everyone says you’re the miracle of the ward. And so maybe you were a fruitcake, for awhile, but on the other hand, you are not anymore.

Lee [his crabbiness showing]. See, you never take my side, even when I’m sick. Well [pause; a moment to think], …what if I get another stroke, and remain a forever, fruitcake, are you going to take care of this fruitcake, or throw it in the garbage can? Maybe even leave the fruitcake dry up to nothingness!

Eva. That really hurts me that you ask such a question, or is it a statement [?]

Lee. Well?

Eva. You heard me!

Lee is not certain what to say, and taking his time he lowers his eyes. He is beginning to realize he had asked the wrong question, and possibly the right one. And he figured the answered would be, ‘Yes, I’ll leave you.’ Both Eva and Lee are silent; she shakes her head ‘yes.’ Rosario the nurse comes in. She looks around, then shuts the curtain around him, and leaves Eva by herself standing in the doorway.

Eva. Can I be of assistance, Ms Nurse? [Lee shakes his head no to indicated to the nurse he does not want her there.]

Nurse Rosario. No thank you Miss Fremont, I just have to do a few things. [She is taking his pulse and listening to his heart. He eyes her shape up. She has a nice well-formed figure, and her skin looks a bright olive, she is all of twenty-nine years old. She is about five feet two inches tall, and she speaks slowly, but confidant.]

Your pan is empty; you have to allow yourself to have a bowel movement [she has a serious look on her face].

Lee. I know, but I can’t do it in this damn pan, or in front of someone. Not even Miss Fremont [his left eyebrow goes up in the air looking towards Eva’s way, but of course the curtains are in the way]. Let me get up and go and find a real, four-walled bathroom?

Nurse Rosario. I would have to get the doctors permission. I’ll ask him.

Nurse Rosario pulls the curtains open again; as she leaves the room she gives recognition to Miss Fremont, by way of a smile.

Nurse Rosario. Your fiancé seems to be doing just fine, if only he will have a bowel movement, I’d feel better [Eva looking all the time at her fiancé, Lee, not at Nurse Rosario].

Eva. That’s easier said than done. Yaw, he has his way of doing things doesn’t he, and they are all different than normal peoples, and they are always different than anyone else’s, that’s for sure.

The Nurse leaves the room, and Eva goes and sits on the bed, at the end of it, looks at the book, “Neverwhere.”

Eva. Where did you find this book?

Lee [with a deep sigh, and release of air]. You repeat yourself do you know that? [Eva pays no heed to the rhetorical question.] At any rate, it belongs to the old man next to me, the one sleeping, or pretending to sleep, Olivier somebody. He got it from his son I think, who got it from the author I think, it’s signed anyhow. He had read it, [he repeats himself], and he read it and gave it to me. I liked it. This guy is in some underground place in London. I mean this sewer system or something it’s really different. Not sure if he is in wonderland or the underworld or what, but I guess it’s Never-everywhere land. He’s got a girlfriend of sorts. I think I wouldn’t mind joining him.

You shook your head that you’d be leaving me should I ever get sick again. Or have a stroke.

Eva. Your stroke is still blurring your mind and vision, the book is called, ‘Neverwhere…’ and yes I did shake my head, but I’m trying to be as honest as I can.

Lee. Oh, I’d never leave you, never in a million years, especially if you were—were ill...!

Eva. So what does that all mean? …are you changing your mind now;--are you going to leave me instead, what?

Lee. No, I’m just being honest also. I wonder how the book ends. Maybe it will have the answer for me. I’ll bet the man comes back out of the sewer system, doesn’t care for his old life, and runs back to his make believe world—but you know, maybe, just maybe, there’s another side to this.

Eva. What’s your answer?

Lee. What to do about you leaving me if I get a stroke again [Eva tightened her face] that’s my question to myself—no answer yet.

Eva. I’ve been here everyday Lee; actually, every night and day. Now I need to be with my kids for a while, they do not care for me spending so much time away from them [the kids being 12 and 15 years old, and not Lee’s kids, Eva’s. He has been dating Eva for three years].

Lee. Yes, I figured they’d come up sooner or later, your kids that are. You know the younger one said she’d want to give me a heart attack if she could figure out how to do it, maybe you’d helped it along, -- and she doesn’t want me to marry you— you know?

Eva. Yes, I remember her saying that, I’m the one that told you that, now that I think of it.

Lee. How bizarre; someone else’s kids, that is, trying to raise them, and love them, is a thankless job, you can’t win. You get it from the kids, from the ex-husband, and from your girlfriend. Can you hand me my book please [she picks it up and hands it to him]? I liked the Marquis in the book. It is another world unto itself.

Eva. Will you please get your mind off the book? I am here to visit you.

Lee. Well, to be quite frank, and to add to that, the honest approach thing you brought to my attention, I’d just as soon be alone now, and you go home and visit your kids and I’ll read my book [Eva looks mortified].

Eva not knowing what to do or say stands up from the bed and walks over to the curtain by the window; --the old man in the other bed overhears the conversation they are having—and he catches her eyes as she turns to look out the window, putting her hands on the sill. She gives him a smirk.

Eva. Your friend is awake, Lee.

Lee. Hello Oliver, have a good sleep?

Oliver. Yew, real good [Oliver had heart surgery also, and is a 72-year old man, or is it 78? I think he told one-person one thing and another person another age].

Lee. Did we wake you up?

Oliver. Not sure, but I’m getting real hungry.

Eva. I see you put the book down for Oliver.

Lee. That’s my fiancée –E- Eva.

Eva. Hello Oliver, I can’t imagine what you two have in common.

Lee [talking to Eva]. I thought you were leaving, Eva?

Eva [answering Lee]. I never said that, you just decided to read, but I guess it is my company you are annoyed with. I’m sorry: --I’ll have to go and visit the kids; you’re supposed to be engaged to marry me, and look how you treat me…with distain.

Oliver. What does that word mean, --distain?

Lee. I think it means something distasteful, you know, something you ate and wanted to spit back out. You see Oliver, she really doesn’t want to stay here with me, or for that matter, see her little monster kids, but I’m a good distraction for her, a good reason to get away from those little brats, actually, they’re not so little now that I think about it. One’s tall and skinny, the other short and fat. I watch them for her when I visit her, or stay at her house, she’s at all these parties and teacher things to get away from all of us; I think the kids in particular. She hides from them you know. I don’t blame her for not wanting to go home. To be real candid, I should try to figure out why I’d want to be there.

Eva. Yes they do bother me, and you’re starting to get on my nerves also.

Lee. Hay… Oliver, she even told me one day she dated me because she needed someone to help pay the bills, take care of the kids, and god knows what else. But after three years she learned to love me. But I think it’s starting to have a reversing process, back to the trying to love stage, or thing…

Eva. You don’t have to tell him all our secrets.

Lee. What’s so secret about that?

Eva. I’m leaving, you two can do your fiancé bashing without me [Oliver simply looks at Lee, puts on a frown with a little disbelief, a smirk and follows it up with a smiling laugh, but nothing Eva can see or hear]

What are you two up to—something I’m sure? It seems so quiet in here.

Lee. Now what can we be up to, we’re both in bed, man oh man, are you insecure, and paranoid.

Eva waves with her hand goodbye to Lee and walks out the door. Her feelings are hurt, but not enough to cry. She feels that they both ganged up on her, even though Oliver did not say a word, or direct his dialogue to her I should say.

Oliver. It’s not going to work Lee I can assure you of that.

Lee. Why’s that, or is it so obvious?

Oliver. She doesn’t want it to plus, that is not love talking. It’s just not going to work. I was married once to this woman, and it was nothing but hell all the time. Smart this and that, and someone else’s kids. I met this woman I have now and she does everything for me. Matter-of-fact, she never cuts me down. I wish I had met her long ago. I’ve been married thirteen-years now. The previous marriage was twenty-five. The best advice I can give you is finding someone who adores you. These American women are so fickle now-a-days, they don’t know what they want, and when they get it, the desire is gone, and it’s not long before they start looking for another mate, instant gratification is what they want, and then boredom creeps in. Or I should say the majority of them. I shouldn’t generalize, I suppose. It’s so easy to get a divorce now-a-days, --matter of fact, it’s harder to get a motorcycle license than a marriage license; you know if you pick your nose wrong, it’s divorce time. Get a woman from Asia or South America as I did. She’ll love-yaw forever.

The Bathroom

Olivier [not understanding]. Is she always such a wittily sort of lady?

Lee [coolly]. She’s a piranha ready to bite twenty-four hours a day.

Nurse Rosario. Yes-SS [with her eyebrows up in the air], -----you can use the bathroom, --it’s just to the right outside the room here, it’s private; but I’ll have to be in there with you, would you—would you mind at all?

Incidentally your mother’s --Elsie, right? [Lee nods his head yes]—she was here when you were sleeping last night, you seemed a bit fogy last night. She looked as if her world was coming apart; you know she had every church in town praying for you. It was sweet when she held your hand, as if she got you back…which she did, I’m not sure what course in her life would have taken place had you not had the miracle you did have. She had white pearls on, a white blouse and a black tie. I remember everything. [Lee just gawking at the nurse as if in a daze, visualizing the moment, then smiled, saying: ‘Yes I remember that,’ he commented, ‘but so many other times I don’t remember,’ he added.]

A long pause as they both took a moment to adjust to the current situation.

Lee. Oh yaw! [Surprised.] I’ve always been a shy kind of fellow when it comes to something similar to that, sort of—sort of shy that is.

Rosario. Oh, I see…Oh, I see you have to have me by your side like it or not.

Lee [aghast]. Hm...Mm! Ok, it will be your way, or no way at all, so it looks like— it looks like!
[Lee adds to his dialogue concerning the doctor] The big man gave in, I’m shocked, and I’m allowed to use the bathroom, not this damn pan. [His heart is starting to bother him; he notices something wrong as he is getting out of bed; his balance is not steady, his head is light. Rosario quickly takes his pulse and attaches some wiring to him. His pulse has jumped to 150… Now to 180.]

Nurse Rosario. I got to see the doctor, just sit here [Lee remains on the bed hoping to use the toilet in the private bathroom. He hasn’t had a bowel movement in six days.]

As Nurse Rosario leaves the room, she is observed trying to call the doctor over
their paging him: --Oliver looks at Lee and nods his head as if to say, ‘what can you do,’ and lays back in his bed.

Oliver [to break the tension]. Boy oh boy, --Lee! Is it evergreen, I mean really green outside. May is a good month for grass—yaw…everything grows, and grows.

Lee. Yaw, I never thought I’d appreciate grass—green-grass that is, or even notice the different shades of greens within the grass; funny how we appreciate life when it is on the edge ready to disappear. But it is beautiful, from what I’ve seen of it—the grass that is. I did get to look at it a few days ago, when I was allowed to sit in a chair by my bed. Yes, you appreciate life in a different way; it is no more an item for consumption, that is, a commodity. As for mother, someday I may be standing over her, as she has done here for me praying, and she will not remember all the times I will go to see her, as I do not remember her visiting me most of the times, but I’ve been told she was here everyday, I think I’ve been here about three weeks. Things have a way of changing in time Oliver.

In comes the doctor. He notices Lee on the side of the bed, and is getting
briefed by Rosario. He seems to be unsure of the situation. In spite of this, he acts as if he’s got it under control, and tries to put on a smile, and then quickly takes his pulse, looking at Nurse Rosario.

Dr. Bash [throatily]. Well, Mr. Walters, your heart is flying, and we’ll have to do something quick about that.

Lee. Yaw, as long as you don’t make me a ‘Fruit Cake,’ and let me go use that bathroom.

Dr. Bash [staring in thought, looking toward Rosario.] Yes, I did say you could, didn’t I. Ok, [a pause—while in thought]…if you agree to have us do some electric-shock treatment on you, slow that heart beat to normal.

Lee. That sounds interesting I think, just translate that for me a little better, ‘electric-shocKK!’

Dr. Bash. It’s called electric shock, as I was saying, and it will—hopefully—trigger you heart back to a more normal rhythm, or put another way, pace, if you will. As you know, right now it is racing at close to 190-beats a minute. I want to get your heart back into regularity. For some reason it jumped out of timekeeping, I guess that’s the best way of saying it.

Lee. You always have the most choice words for serious issues Doc, do what you need to but I want to take a healthy [he looks at Rosario the nurse—a slight pause in the moment]…I need to go to the bathroom doc.

Dr. Bash [a little annoyed with Lee’s insistence, and thinking or wondering if he made the right decision to have electric shock, he moves his jaw a few times]. Rosario, take him in the bathroom and help him, I’ll get the equipment we need for the …you know [he didn’t want to scare Lee anymore than what he had already, he knew he was now nervous about the shock-treatment, and did not want him to refuse it].

Lee [darting a look at Rosario]. I’m ready; don’t need a wheel chair, just your arm please [looking at the nurse, Rosario from the corner of his eye]; adding, ‘I’m similar to my mother, she hates the cane, never utilized it, the one I brought back from the Black Hills; yes, and I hate the wheelchair’.

The doctor now is out of sight, eminently looking for the machine himself. And Rosario has brought Lee into the bathroom, and leaves the door open a bit, as Lee sits down, pulling his garment away from him, she stands by the door watching.

Lee. Rosario, Pa-Please—shut the door… please, and turns around. I can’t go if you look—looking my way, or at me.

Rosario [hesitantly]. Ok, but don’t try too hard—you know, don’t force yourself to go, it is really against policy for me to leave, I mean to turn around, it is like leaving, or taking my eyes off you, but if you’re going to insist ok, I don’t want your stitches in your chest to become undone [‘the zipper you mean,’ commented Lee].

Lee. Thanks, I’d tell you…that you’re—are, really lovely, but this is not the time or place [Rosario chuckles lightly, walks away from the door, and stands facing the wall to the side of Lee].

Lee is putting a lot of effort into having a bowel movement and Rosario hears…and is getting nervous…
she is starting to turn around, but stops. Then a second groan comes from Lee, finally the bowel movement follows [with a long sigh of relief], which is quite a lot, need I say more. Lee stops, catches his breath, and Rosario quickly, turns around.

Rosario. Are you all right? if I had my hands on you, I could tell your heart rate, by the sounds you are making, the effort that is, was way too much; I would be in trouble for allowing the stress on your heart to …to you know… it was too much, way too much. Incidentally, I said a prayer; I just hope everything is ok; I mean, first the heart than the stroke now the pulse, what’s next [?]

Lee. Listen, I feel really good, not stuffed or anything. My breathing is a little heavy, as if my lungs are too heavy for me, but the doc say’s they’re all right. Let’s go back.

Rosario takes Lee back to his bed and helps him in. Then an attache some wires to his heart to monitor his heart rate, and along side him is a graph showing his heart beats [pulse rate] per minute. Rosario walks out of the room, and Lee keeps staring at the equipment. He is thinking: is there something wrong [?] --and then stares even closer. He is almost mortified. Then Rosario comes in almost in a gallop.

Rosario [shocked, in disbelief]. Look, look, look…my prayer—it worked, it really worked, your heart rate is going down, it’s 94, no, no, it’s 86, no 71 [she hugs Lee, and Lee gives her a kiss on the side of her cheek [it’s down to 59]. Lee and the Nurse’s are thinking, it was the prayer, and the healthy dump [possibly] he had in the bathroom. God works in strange ways that’s all I can say [adds Rosario looking at Lee in astonishment].

Rosario now leaves the room, and the Doctor comes in with the machinery to give Lee his electric shock. He tests the two odd looking devices he is holding in each hand, and turns a few knobs.

Lee. What you up to doc?

Dr. Bash. Just got to test this before I use it on you; how was the bathroom scene?

Lee. Doctor!

Dr. Bash. Yes!

Lee. Look at me [the doctor stops for a moment and looks at Lee]. Now look at the device here showing my heart rate, it is normal L-L-L-L-! [He adds the L’s in there so the doctor is sure to look].

Dr. Bash. What happened, you are back to normal—: my gosh. No need for this [and he walks out of the room as if nothing happened and out of sight; as if he’s use to miracles on a daily bases; or embarrassed he was going to give electric shock to a man who didn’t need it any longer].

Lee now is thinking about Rosario and her Latin completion. She is build just right for him. Then he mumbles: ‘Mom will not be worried anymore,’ with a sigh of relief.

Oliver [smiling]. They almost got that contraption on you. Haw, how about that nurse, that Rosario is a fox isn’t she— she’d be a good catch.

Lee. She’s not a fish, but do you really think so?

Oliver [a foxy look on his face]. Yes, that’s the kind of gal you need.

[Both Oliver and Lee look out of the bay window onto the nurse’s area, and Rosario is monitoring something, most likely Lee, and catches both their eyes, and both guys turn their heads quickly.]

Oliver [carelessly, with a smirk on his face]. Damn women, can’t even spy on them without activating their cat-senses!

Lee [soothingly, with a smile]. Hm…mm…mmm! [He doesn’t say anything beyond that.]

The Curtain Falls

[The Curtain goes up]


Anyone who was saying to themselves this was a bit one sided, in favor of the
male gender will be glad to get to the second act, and perhaps we can iron this out, when I write it that is, but for now I’m sorry, this is it. To be continued…

[A month later I wrote it—the new act.] In any case, we are now at the trailer court, it is a private park-court, and Eva’s parents have a plot of land that they keep for when they come into the city of St. Paul, to visit, therefore, they have a place all ready for them to park their little trailer home for the summer, as fall comes, and then winter they will be in Florida at another trailer court they own a plot of land also in Florida.
When they are not at either place, they are driving with their trailer all over the country. They are retired folk, and come back to the park twice a year for about two or three months, depending on/or should I say again, ‘if’ they can deal with fall or winter in Minnesota, and life’s ups and down’s, and of course if they don’t get bored. But they know a lot of people and have many “Hello’s”, and phone calls to make, along with visiting.
They are now, all standing outside by the trailer having a picnic of sorts, bratwursts are cooking, Lee is standing by his fiancé Eva looking at the food cooking, as the mother [Holly] is bringing out the food from the trailer [seemingly making more trips than what she needs to], along with plates to eat on, and silverware, putting those neatly on the table. The father is standing by the picnic table wanting to talk to Lee about his heart condition, but is lost for words…


Act’s II and III completed on April 27, 2003 (reviewed 2/2006).

Act II

The Trailer Park

Lunch Time

If you look around you will see a beautiful private park with mobile homes on plots of land, sections, squares if you will, with names on mail box’s, and a gate keeper as you enter this highly and most noted park for the retired—although the plots of land are expensive, the continue monthly payments for the upkeep of the place is somewhat reasonable; for the most part, it is used for those who come to vacation in Minnesota during the Summer, and as mentioned a few times before, the owner-tenants, get the hell out of there in time to avoid the cold winters [smart people if you ask me]. These are the kind of mobile homes you hook on the back of a car and driver cross-country. Nothing stays in the park permanently except for a few shelters built for afternoon relaxation, such as outside screened in patios, which of course protects one from those infamous clusters of man eating mosquitoes, and Minnesota has its share.

There are plenty of wooded areas in the surroundings, and a medium size pool in the park, along with neighbors walking to and fro up and down the paved black-asphalt paths leading around the park, and which is also used for the cars so they can go park their trailers on their lot’s [although cars are not permitted to abuse this right of driving on the grass if need be to part their trailer; --again this privilege is just for parking and visiting [—no Sunday morning driving around].

The sun is out, and the park is sparkling clean, a few dogs running loose, chasing one another, along with squirrels, and birds singing. A picture perfect day, except Lee keeps rubbing his chest, as if it is causing him some discomfort. He has been out of the hospital for one week now, was in the hospital for about three weeks, and does not want to go back in. His heart was beating normally when he left, and all seems well and dandy.
As I said everything’s perfect, almost: Eva comments to Lee, “Isn’t it gorgeous sweetheart?” He replies, as sweet as he can, “Well, maybe, kind of, I mean, I seem to mean, yes, and no. I’m having a little pain in my chest.” Kind of a rapid heart thing again…actually it is beating reminiscent of a being under battle-combat in a war, as if I’ve been dodging rockets, around for an hour as I did in wartime, like…tick-kkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk, something similar to that, a fast running clock!”

Says Eva: “Look! That’s a my parent’s old friend coming…” adding, uncouthly, “Hay Glen, Harry!” Eva is waving resembling a long lost person on a stranded island out in the middle of the Pacific Ocean; they own several apartment buildings, she tells Lee as she waves. [Harry has an umbrella in his hands.]

Harry politely waves at Eva.

Glen [sternly and abrupt]. Good afternoon Eva, where is your mother and father?

Lee [looks over slowly at them with calculating eyes, pulls Eva slightly, so he can whisper to her]. I’m not feeling well, do you got to invite them over, I mean really?

Eva [hopefully]. Sweetheart, you are just so rude sometimes, of course I have to, what would they think of me if I didn’t. [Lee doesn’t answer just gives Eva a disgusting look].

Harry [apologetically]. Sorry we had to scream it out, you know the hellos [Lee is putting on the best smile he can, but it looks more similar to a grin]

Eva [a chatter box]. This is my husband to be Lee [everyone shakes hands. Within a few seconds, everyone starts talking a mile a minute, everyone but Lee that is, and nothing is distinguishable within the conversations going on].

Lee [abstractedly rude]. Do you ever stop with that mouth Eva, put a lid on it; I’m getting a head-ach, and I’m just not feeling well.

Eva [offended]. He’s a little grouchy today, just got out of the hospital, heart attack and stroke, those kinds of things.

Glen [concerned]. Maybe we should talk to your parents later, when you folks are done visiting, you know, I had a friend with heart problems, and I guess, you just need a little quiet sometimes [Glen smiling at Lee; Lee smiling back as if to say, at least she understands].

Eva [appalled at the thought]. Oh, no, no, no, noooo…I won’t hear of such a thing. Come and see my parents. [They are now walking from the edge of the roadway, over to the trailer]

Everyone now is standing around the picnic table, Eva’s two parents, Holly and Bruce, along with their friends, Glen and Harry, and of course, Eva and Lee. Lee’s head is spinning and his chest seems to be bothering him a little more than before; --he’s feeling anxious for the most part. He rubs his chest. Then suddenly walks away from the group, and onto the asphalt-path leading toward the gate. Eva discovers Lee is on the road, about fifty-feet away; and she sees it as, he is aimlessly walking, and seemingly talking to himself.

Eva [hastily, trying to catch up with Lee]. Wait, wait, Lee, where you going? [She catches up] I can’t believe this: --you just up and walk away.

She tries to grab his hand but Lee moves it away, the gate guard now is looking at them, so Eva asks if she can feel his chest.

Eva [now moving her hand after getting permission to do her testing, by putting her hand on his chest]; --my god, Lee, your heart is beating faster than a mad-hatter, my god, faster than a train. [She can’t help it, and adds] “…but you know, that is no excuse to be so awful back there— Lee!

Lee [shaking his head]. I could be dying, I mean really dying, and you’d be concerned about etiquette. My god woman, where is your sense of reality [?]

Eva [warning emphasis]. If you continue to be like this, I will not be able to deal with you, I mean, I’ve always been a sort of—sort of domineering person I suppose, I know, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care how you are.

Lee [bewildered]. I didn’t say all that, that you didn’t care, and yes we have priorities, but I’m just not feeling well. As you can tell, and see, I’m very tired.

Eva [calmly]. Yes, I insist right after the picnic, I’ll take you to the hospital, and you can stay overnight and let them check you out again. Something is happening again. That heartbeat is just too damn fast.

Lee [uneasy]. Hospital, I just hate to go back, I love these sunny days; I really missed them while in the hospital. [Then in thought, he knew his mother would be devastated again to see him go back to the hospital, they had lived together 15-years, not to include the years before high school, which was another 17-years, making it 32-years out of his 55-years on earth. He tells Eva, “Let my mother know, but simply imply it is for a check up, no more.” She agrees.

Eva [looking at Lee jokingly says]. You’ll make a good medical tax right off when we get married. [Slowly Lee turns his head away from her, thinking, it’s a low sort of joke, but says nothing, only mumbles to his unconscious, ‘were not married yet’.]

A dumbfounding look befalls Lee, he really doesn’t want to return to the hospital or join the others at the picnic but he is hungry, and the hospital makes sense. As they turn back to go to the picnic, Eva’s places her hand the second time on his chest, as if to re-verify, this is for real. Then suddenly they stop just before the picnic tables, her parents watching, as if to put on a show, she confirms: ”Yes, you got to go back to the hospital, your heat beat is way to fast!” and grabs his hand and sits down to eat.

The Curtain Falls


Back at the Hospital

┼ [Note by the narrator.] Now we are back at the hospital and it is has been about 30-days after all of these prior events narrated in the first two Acts [that is from the hospital, to the park and back again] took place. Lee of course did not want me to put him back into the hospital, but he has to connect with Rosario somehow, so what a better place to brave it out. A library would have been too quiet to be quite honest, and a catastrophe for this Act. This was going to be a short act, but it has changed in the last three weeks as I have thought about it; or should I say, a stay in the hospital is really what he needs, for there is someone else waiting for him. Actually I had to go find him, and get him into the same room with Lee before he arrived.

It is about 8:00 AM, and Rosario his the first nurse to have seen Lee in the morning since he arrived last night—yes, the very same one he had in the hospital before, you are not surprised of course, but she is surprisingly grateful, for being assigned to him again, to Lee that is, she marks this occurrence as not simply being coincidental of course—but, with a touch of providence, she is pondering, but we know different, I THINK. She is coming into his room doing whatever nurses do for the most part. She now goes over to the window and opens it up to let in some fresh brisk air; --Lee is already under his covers, eyeing her up, --better put, peeking—as if he was a kid—through a few covers and his pillow. He had come into the hospital in the middle of the night, as I had mentined a few sentences back.
In the background now, there is much activity going on, as people are being fed, nurses getting files, doctors checking in on patients, etc. Dr. Bash is in the background talking onto a chart, as he turns and talks to a nurse and occasionally looks at the patient.

Lee [not sure who is talking in the background, just hears voice, and more voices]. ‘I wonder when Dr. Bash is going to come in and see his Fruit Cake,’ he mumbles. [Rosario looks at him from the side of her eye, standing somewhat resembling a soldier by his bed; Dr. Bash taking notes by the doorway now; she laughs a little, Lee deciphers the laugh, and makes an embarking face.]

Rosario [taking his pulse now]. Lee, I don’t believe it—again, it is [pause—she is not checking him out, and he gets a little nervous] it is… your pulse is, that is 190 per minute. Last night the chart read, 160. My god, what is going on with that ticker in yours? [Pause—again she checks him out.] I got to see, I mean, talk to the doctor [Bash had just walked out and is talking to another nurse about another patient].

Lee [untidily]. That’s why I’m here again, because of the old ticker; it’s just not ticking according to the timetable Doc Bash has put together.

Now Lee looks about the room, trying to open his eyes wider.

Lee [surprised]. Oliver, is that you under the covers, you still here?

Oliver [slowly unraveling the covers, and annoyed]. Can’t let an old geezer like me just simply sleep—haw-aw! You had to wake me up. Well since you did, you still going with that— that chatter box of a girlfriend? [Oliver giggling.]

Lee. Yeah, what’s so funny? What’s so amusing? I thought we were friends, Oliver?

Oliver. I guess so…Hm. Sorry, glad to have you back.

The Voice. (It’s a nurse in the office area) Doctor! Where’s doctor Bash?

Lee [after a thoughtful pause]. I see you’re in good spirits Oliver, as rude as ever though.

Oliver. I said I’m sorry, what do you want blood. You look well, evidently you’re not though, otherwise you’d not be back here, and that’s for sure.

Rosario [wildly]. The doctor— he’s, he’s coming, and the doctor is coming, be here in a minute [she overheard Oliver talk about Eva] how’s Eva doing Lee?

Lee [moans]. It’s just not working [he shakes his head, repeats] not—just not working.

Rosario. Not working, well, I guess it’s too bad, but you’ll get over it.

Lee. What?

Rosario. Not working, that’s what you said [silently they both stare at one another], so what’s going to happen now? [In comes the doctor.]

Doctor Bash [taking Lee’s pulse]. How you feeling Mr. Walters?

Lee. Next to what? Next to terrible? Or next to almost terrible? I mean I’m depressed, sick, heart attack material, heart fluttering issues: heart beating akin to a race horse—p-p-p- problems; what more can I say. If I knew medical terms I could go on forever. I don’t feel well, I feel racy, if that is what you’re asking. [The doctor’s eyebrows skyrocket upward, as if to say ‘…slow it down’.]

Doctor [emphatically]. That you are, racy that is… you need a stronger tranquilizer until we can get that heart cadence back to normal again.

Lee [saying to the doctor again]. I feel as if buzzards are flying above my head waiting for me to crook, die, disincarnate, as if the ocean with all its sharks is gathering around me.

Doctor [saying to Lee in a witheringly way]. If you don’t calm down we’ll have to give you a shot to put you to sleep, your heart can’t take all that witticism, nor can I take it, matter-of-fact, I’ll have to give you some tranquilizing medication soon, if you don’t slow down and rest your mouth and heart, and to be frank, I’ll have to take some myself [the doctor walks out of the room again].

Doctor Bash [to Nurse Rosario]. I think my patient needs a stronger tranquilizer, --give it to him right away [he hands Rosario a small pill]. Adds to his dialogue, “…if he needs something stronger, let me know?”

Lee [taking the pill from Rosario who is smiling]. Can’t resist Rosario can I, [?] he is looking at Oliver when he says that, but Rosario is looking at him.

Rosario [speaking to Lee]. Are you flirting with me, and are you serious with all those little flirts…? [Then something occurs to her—a pause] Your mother called, better tell you before I forget. I told her you were doing fine, and the doctor was looking in on you. It is best you call her as soon as you can, she’s still nervous, I could tell over the phone. She was asking many questions. [Lee assures Rosario he will call in a moment.]

Doctor Bash. Maybe all I needed to do was leave Rosario in here, save the calm-down pill for another patient. [He was standing by the doorway, making notes, and laughing lightly, and then so did Lee, Rosario and Oliver joined in on the humor by laughing.] “Laughing is good for us all I think,” commented the doctor as he walks through the doorway.

Lee [after a pause of thoughtfulness and talking to Rosario whom is by his side by the bed now]. Rosario—Rosario, I’d like you to marry me?

A stone silence fills the room. Rosario’s eyes opened up as wide as an owls, her mouth sinks with her chin, as if she’s about to bite someone, but as it is she lets more air into accommodate the unbelievable statement she just heard (perhaps to suck it to her stomach, incase she panics),--she hesitates, woops, it was a question, woops, a statement-question possibly, the air that circled Lee’s bed now is num.

No answer, everyone still in shock, disbelief…

Rosario [with tearful eyes]. If you love me!

Lee [thinking, as Oliver is stunned in his bed looking as if a shark had just eaten a whale]; --if I love you. [Oliver is mumbling something: ‘…this is just too simple to be true’]

Rosario. Yes, if you love me.

Lee [thinking, I must love her if I asked her to marry me]. Yes— yes, I love you.

Rosario. Ok.

Lee [a bit puzzled]. Ok what?

Rosario. Ok, I’ll marry you, if you love me.

Lee. Oh…ohoooooooooooo…good when, I mean ok…but I mean we need to think about when, right?

Rosario takes Lee’s hand and they just hang onto one another for a moment, staring into each others eyes, lightly kissing one another a few times on the lips, not much, no big sloppy kissing going on here just a soft, moist, gentle kiss, what one might call, less than a normal kiss but more than a zero kiss, but more of a heavenly touch…as Rosario leans over the bed to get closer to Lee, and they touch noses [that’s it for the beginning].

Lee [his voice shaken a bit]. I wrote a poem last night Rosario: --how I felt about my recovery, although it’s kind of back and forth, that is the heart and the remembering things, the stroke has erased some of my hand skills, such as playing the guitar, but I’m getting it back. But it’s nonetheless a recover poem.

Lee pulls himself closer to the stand by the table next to his bed and reaches for a piece of paper with his poem written on it; it falls out of his hands and Rosario picks it up.

Rosario [looking at Lee]. I’ll read it, might be easier. (‘Didn’t you know I’m a poet,’ he said.) I’m sure you’re many things I’ve yet to discover [she smiles, and Lee rising from his bed with a murmur of surprise, takes in a great amount of air, and pushes it down to his stomach, and slowly releases it, it makes him calmer]; I call it:

The title that is, the Fruit-Cake Poem
By Lee Walters

I had a heart attack, and stroke—I was told
Whence, I never really knew it—
Yet I remember the loss of thought
And my body did not do, what it was told;
And I knew it.

Restless, restless the world seemed
As I lived in nightmares and fogy dreams—
People going to and fro throughout the hospital;
And through it all, my loving mother
Stood tall, brave with God’s ear.

Not much was said to me those days, unless
When spoken to; I just can’t remember how:
But I do remember now
Dark evenings, lights, my bed
and sleep, lots of sleep;
It is all that’s left of memory in me —

And so by and by a miracle came
I was spared this insidious dreadful game
Of loosing what little I had left
Within the confines of my chest
For some odd reason I cannot say—why
Except for my mother’s, brother’s
And my nurse’s sighs…
God spared me—

Then one day came the Doctor in—
To spy, to, to gather more information of why
For it was not known then, that
The one he had called the ‘Fruit-cake’
Was now whole again…
And ready for life’s new race…A-men.

The Curtain Falls

Act IV

The Apartment

Rosario and Lee got married, they are now in their own small apartment, it is mid-afternoon [and by implication], the apartment is more similar to a studio-apartment, having one large room with a roll-a-way bed [otherwise known as a Murphy Bed], and an archway to the kitchen that is a little pronounced because of its huge ceilings; -- the bathroom is beyond the kitchen, that one can only see a door to.
This is a good time to let you in on the news, Oliver, our faithful, man of dry-wit, was the best man at the wedding, which took place six-months ago. I can assure you, he was a blast, but on the other hand, I can’t really say much about the furniture in their new apartment, it is not a blast, at least to look at, it is rather simple at its finest, ordinary; I think Rosario is satisfied with this although, but Lee is a bit embarrassed. There is a radio and sofa chair by Lee, and a stand next to his right elbow; about several feet from his chair is a rocker for— [you got it] Rosario, with a tall floor lamp by her chair, woops, both Rosario and Lee have a floor lamp by their chairs. Lee is a firm believer in the old ways of life, man should have his own big chair, and lamp; --Lee is now looking at his first disability check he got from the Government, for he can no longer work because of his heart and possible future stroke along with something unknown that makes him weaker than one would expect; as time passes on, the doctors are checking him out, possible a neurological issue of sorts they say.
On the other hand, Rosario continues to work at the hospital and Oliver now their new best friend has retired, he worked in the fur trade, and then after that become obscure, and he worked at the Post Office. Rosario has walked over to Lee and he shows her the government check. As I am explaining this to you, she [Rosario] knows he cannot work anymore, and so she is thinking about going over to encourage him in his life long dream, which is to write music, and combine that with his poetry.

Rosario. Lee!

Lee. Yaw— [Rosario putting the check back into Lee’s hands] what’s up!

Rosario. Why don’t you write some music, like you’ve always wanted to, you got the time, I support it, and who knows, it could be quite enlightening? [She walks into the kitchen; she has planted the seed, now it’s ‘food for thought,’ time.]

There is no reply.

Lee! [Says Rosario.]

--Still no reply…

Lee! Are you out there?

Lee [with uncertainty]. Are you, you really serious?

Rosario [enthusiastically]. As serious as a heart attack— oops, I didn’t mean that, the wrong word. It will keep you busy, and you’re fond of music, and I adore your poetry.

Lee. Don’t scream it out it bothers me.

Rosario. Sorry—

Lee [walking into the kitchen]. I hear you baby, I like the idea—I’d be fond of it, I mean a whole, whole lot…do you think I’m good enough, I mean really, really, really good enough? I mean would you care to listen to my music if you were not married to me [pause]. Well, would you?

Rosario [absentmindedly]. Good enough for what?

Lee [increasingly annoyed]. Yaw, I’ll turn down the radio…d o w nnn…

[A pause]

Lee. I can do it, I can do it [a knock at the door]

Rosario. Well, I know that, who’s at the door? [She swiftly moves out of the kitchen to the door before Lee gets out of his sofa chair.]

She opens the door, it’s Oliver—

He is standing in the doorway [he is a colorful dresser to say the least] with yellow stocking on up to the knees. He towers over Rosario at 6-foot three inches. He has a blue satin vest on, a little wild looking; thin in the face, and long hair. His coat I’d say he looks like it is in need of a good press job, an old relic from the last war, hidden in some attic, Rosario conjures in her mind; --reminiscent of the Civil war, at least. He has a white shirt on, with a red tie, maybe not coordinating colors, but bright; --a wide belt stretching across his over lapping stomach [Rosario is thinking, think she is thinking, ‘could that belt stretch his belly button out of shape?]. He has that Oliver grin on his face, that says sarcasm may came at any moment, anytime, anywhere, anyplace, possible here, right now, the one that says here I am, for better or worse [he has a heartily kind of composure to himself].

Oliver [a big hearty smile on his face, a twinkle in his eye]. Just passing by thought I’d stop and see the two love-birds [he hands her a big sack of potatoes, twenty-pounds]; my mother always said to bring a gift when you go visiting, and my dad always said, ‘make it a surprise.’ [He starts laughing.] Got to please you both, —you know.

Rosario [bright eyed]. You haven’t been around for a month; Lee and I were wondering if you were ill. You were coming around once a week before. [Not sure if this is a question or a statement, everyone is silent for a moment.]

Oliver [answering Rosario, as Lee remained silent for a moment longer]. Don’t want to ware out my welcome, sweetie!

Lee. Haw, that’s my territory old man, only I say sweetie. [There was something in the tone of his voice for a moment, as he put his cigarette out in the ashtray next to him.]

Oliver. Well who told you to marry her, haw…haw?

Rosario. Oh-ooooooo Oliver, Lee didn’t tell me about that, so he needed some coaching, did he [Rosario looking at Lee and Oliver both humorously]

Lee [serious as usually, he is trying to change the subject]. Why—why the potatoes, I’ve never seen anyone bring potatoes over before; unbelievable.

Rosario turns around to shut the door, Lee is looking at Oliver, takes his hands and waves them—as if to say, ‘hush up’ about his coaching, and reminiscent of a zipper, he pretends to zip his lips shut. Oliver says in a whisper, “You asked for it.”

Oliver [he exclaimed laughing]. What was that? [He heard him—a pause.] Why not?

♪ The Music ♫

Lee [suspiciously, with a funny grin on his face]. I guess she’s right [a mutual glare from both of them appear].

Oliver [with quiet laughter]. Glad you didn’t end up with that humming bird, or maybe I should call her a chatter-box. Oh she was nice looking, healthy with the body parts, but talk, talk, talk, and never stop. Oh, yes, she was a talker; surely from a genetic trait way back yonder some place. Just think Lee, had you married her, you would never be able to talk; she’d be doing all the talking. What would you be doing? I’ll tell you right now what you’d be doing, standing at the courthouse getting a divorce. She would have driven you to a hotel, just to get away from her, probably divorce you quicker than making a pan-cake, and drive you to drink. Fickle, that’s what most of the women are today, unpredictable, fickle-d, and pickled; don’t know what they want these new modern women, and when they got it, are happy for a season, and then—find out it was just a joy ride they were after…

Well, you know.

Lee [scornfully]. I wish you wouldn’t bring her up, you always seem to, and it’s just not nice. She had her issues, and I married Rosario, thank God. And that is that.

Oliver. You can say that again!
Lee. What did I say…?

Oliver [with a hiss]. Issues! Yaw, that…’sssssss what they all say; issues my as...S-sssssss. [Pause.] She had an encyclopedia of issues then. Everything was an issue. I don’t know what she had, but I know what she needed, and that was a kick in the ass-sssssssss. Yes, brother, a good old kick in the ass. And that should have been done 50-years ago. Nowadays, the kids run the show, the social workers, and the parent is are on trial, and then the government says, ‘You got to watch those kids, listen to them, hug them, give them love.’ Horseshit, a good kick in the ass is love enough, and then gets on with business, that’s what I say, that’s what they need. We pay these social workers to be social, and that’s far from their mentality. A parent that is too lazy to kick his kid in the ass is too lazy to raise them.

Lee. Oliver, calm down.

Oliver. I do get carried away, don’t I? I’m glad you got Rosario, at any rate; if I don’t calm down I’ll end up back in that damn hospital, listening to everyone bellyache, and those damn kids screaming and yelling, a bunch of rug-rats; I raised mine, and they are as thankless, and useless except for one, as the day is long.

Lee. Yaw, I know you do, --get carried way that is… [Both smiling at one another, Oliver’s head is down a little, akin to a boy who has been scolded, yet knows he does what he does because he loves you, not to hurt you.]

Oliver [staring at papers on the side of Lee’s chair]. What’s all that stuff looks like music?

Rosario [proudly]. My husband is a composer of music, he writes poetry also.

Oliver [looking a bit impressed]. Say Rosario, can this guy really write that kind of stuff-♪♫ or is this ‘bull- sh…t’?

Rosario. Yes, yes, he can. His poems are his music; his lyric’s that is—music added to poems.

Oliver. People don’t talk like that, poems-music,--music-poems. Talk English to me.

Lee [critically]. Oliver, let me explain, if I can. Poetry, barring the Yale type taught crowd, who would present criticism at any turn at the good ripe age of two-days old [sarcasms, reeking from his face], music is poetry in motion. In contrast, it is a story Oliver, yes, that is what it is, and if one was to go beyond that, a novel if you will. After I’m dead and buried, listen to it a few times for about six months and then do a comparison, or analyze it [he hands Oliver a copy of his music with the lyrics] I have a few copies, as I was trying to say, don’t judge it as the Yale critic would, in one day, it has to ferment similar to wine…

Oliver [quite impressed]. Wine haw, you are definitely right there, Lee, I mean you got what it takes. You should have been doing these years ago [Rosario looks at Lee and Oliver, and nodes her head, pointing her finger at her forehead as if to say Lee has some unused smarts].

Oliver rocking in the chair, Rosario standing by the archway into the kitchen in the main room of the Studio Apartment: the sun is shining through the windows, as the shades on the windows are half up, and the curtains drawn back and wrapped with ropes. The floor is made of shinning polished and waxed wood, as are the doors, and the cabinetwork in the main room as well as the kitchen.

Oliver [critical]. If you write about me in those lyric’s I hope you do me justice. I am not… [He starts to read one of the music sheets, the lyrics] I was saying, I am not, or do not, I should say, reveal me as one of those ordinary people, you know as so many authors do. You read one novel, and then another and the characters are all the same, nothing new. No different shapes to them. If you didn’t know their names, you’d never know who they were. Our character tells a person who we are, not our names, not after the day you are born anyways.

Lee. I didn’t know you were a philosopher of sorts; yes, a profound thinker I’d say. You are well read my friend. Most people would say my mother was ordinary, as ordinary goes; but what is ordinary, maybe to some people like me it is a blessing to be ordinary, and to other people it is common to be ordinary, and still for others they hate being ordinary. What ever it is my mother’s ordinary character taught me to stand tall, be honest, work hard, and don’t let everything bother you: she believed in me. There was what I call an ordinary priority in her life: god, me and my brother and her, and beyond that, we go into second gear. Maybe she really wasn’t ordinary, maybe it is simple me that is, or wanted to be.

Oliver [with a smirk]. No, I’m not a philosopher; not really, I just know garbage from true fiction; or maybe better put garbage from historical fiction. God made everyone different, yet we put names on everyone, and that is how we are known. How about using a few good impressions to describe us with, me, in particular if you ever use me? Or let’s say just as you described your mother being ordinary. It really wasn’t a description of an ordinary person, but rather the impression I get is, she got around, new what she wanted, had direction, took from life, life and lived it. What more can we do; possibly she was a realist, and partly dreamer, like you.

Lee. How should I shape you, should I try?

Oliver. Hm…mm! You trying to [pause] — I want to read this stuff, but back to your question. I should be characterized different, that is from a different angle, like your mother, ‘simple, but multifaceted.’ Similar to your songs also; are they not all different, but complex in their own way…have their own personality [?] One is on “Death,” another on “Love,” something we all thing about; another on finding and searching for some one, something we all have experienced, all these things mold us, make and adjust our priorities, as it did for your mother and you, as it does for you and your wife, as it is doing with you and as…as I look at these music sheets, the words, notes and all, I can’t quite anticipate them, as you can not anticipate me, and whoever reads about me, that is somewhat how it should start. When I read a book, I first try to read half of the book and if I can it tell me it might be a good book; if I can’t, it is just old music being played over, I just stop playing it, or in my case reading it, if I already know the ending, why read it: a good book should not be able to let you know what the ending is going to be before you get there. The only difference being, it’s a new day. Some of these writers in Paris, Hollywood, New York, think they are writing something new. I call it ‘The Original Old Foolish Stuff…’ if I could think of a longer name for it I would. I want to be something new in your book, on each sentence, or stanza in your song, or poem, a spark that never was—that’s me. Does that make sense? Like your mother, she is someone to you that will never be again. No body will take her imprint off you. God gave you her as a gift, it was his gift…not a perfect gift, just like you, not perfect, but a gift that will open your whole being up every time you think of her.

Lee. You want me to make you into a ‘Best Seller,’ well Oliver, you are to me or us, my wife and I that is, and you already are a Best Seller. I’m not any big music writer or anything like that, but if I do write about you I will give it a good try and make you unique; you will be a hero, like my mother. I do not have many heroes, but she is one. I’m not sure what makes a hero, but I know what doesn’t make one, and that is all these foolish actors on TV that play parts and live contrary to what they’d have you believe. They no more believe in the parts they play than in the people they meet, it is all money, power and glory, they think they are something more special than other people, simply because they get an applause, how foolish can a brain be. Some play parts in wars and never were even a soldier, or for that matter Boy Scout, like a writer to be a real writer, you got to live it; like a bullfighter, or a bull watcher, you are one or the other, and of course the bullfighter can tell you the truth, and the watcher tells what he only sees, which is a half truth, but for the ‘buck,’ they’ll pretend anything, and get drunk later--and then expect the public to think of them as heroes, how about over paid whores—or puppies. When you perform in doing something you do not believe in, it is what you are, you sell yourself cheap. My wife is a hero of sorts, and so are you, a little hero to me.

Oliver [now puts a little more thought into his writing as he looks onto the music sheets]. Strange to say but I must, you’re a little inefficient, are you not old chap or should I say young man. I only see one fly in the soup…

Lee. And what is that?

Oliver [hesitantly]. You and your wife are settled, content, almost placid at times, and still quite attracted to one another, writing all this music takes time, effort, and stress—lots of stress for such a short time in writing them. You got to take it easy my friend. [Lee smiled at Oliver, his wife watching him]. Your writing is fine it is the process …

Oliver. Now let me read out loud these lyrics:

As Love goes by

C— — ♫ It was-n’t in Pa- ris, ♪ it was- n’t in Rome…. ♫ It wasn’t at the tash- ma-----hal ♪♫ I met her in Bei- jing, standing by the Em-pe-ror’s wall…♫ Her eyes were full of sky… here voice full of soul…. Her shape was like a god-dess, of mar-ble and of…. Gold…. Her in- sides like a blos-somed rose…. A blos- somed rose…. We shared our glor-ry, we shared our hearts…. ♫♪ AS LOVE GOES….. ♫ BY….. ♪  [long pause, musical] We shared our glo- ry, we shared our hearts… ♪ We nev-er missed a cue. …… ♫♪ Our love was touched by Beijing…mist… …. Our faith was crys-tal new….   Fare- well, fare- well!! We sang our song, as lovers of-ten do…. Then with a kiss… a touch and a sigh, We left the world…. We knew…. We left the world, we left the world…. Re-newed…. Then with a touch and a sigh, we left the world we knew….♫.. As love Goes by… As Love goes by, Love goes by… G E7 G F D7 G G7 Ami G  

Rosario. You read well Oliver. I get a little jealous of that song; you knew we met in the hospital, not China, but for some reason he was dreaming of China [Lee looks at Rosario unprovoked]

Oliver. Why don’t you read this one on, “Death…?” Rosario we got time, I think, I know you want to go someplace though...

Rosario [proudly]. Yes, I’d like that:

Easy Waltz

Death (departure)

¾ time ♫ C— Look soft-ly back at me my friend when death dis – turbs your eyes.— ♪ I died with love and maj – es-ty I nev er thought to cry. I nev er thought to cry. — ♫♫ Man – y times I’ve looked at death sur- round-ed by life and storms.— A – wak – en from my sleep I’ve seen that death was not much more, death was not much more.— [play in flat] God calls us home— ♫ to whom He please. – He is not re – spec-tor of –men ♫ Death has its price and its re – wards the chase for God I’ve won!—
‘Tis de – parture I cry dear friend. Wife, dear lov-ers, child-ren and kin; --
the heart aches (far-well) the pain is gone. -- ♪ Speak kind-ly please. I’ve loved you all.—

Rosario puts back the music-sheets onto the table by Lee, and tells him to read— “It’s your turn,” she says with a bright smile; he plays a little coy looking through his five songs he wrote, and selects “The Dancer,”:

[Note to the reader and audience, if it was a play the
Reader could be pretending to read the music,
While someone was playing and singing it.]

Brote 4

The Dancer

4/4 time  ♫ I watched her dance one eve-ning ♫ The night, the night was fare. All her spir- it danced, - danced as she twist-ed, as she twist-ed the air. — ♫ Heal to toe-- she tapped her feet—in a world her own. ----And as the mu-sic played—her style was born,--smooth and beau-tiful.-- And as she danced, tap-ping heal to toe,-- I could hear the floor,- hear the floor whisp-per dance on more.---- She danced the night a – way---- like a swan in—flight. As she danced t’ward me one could see my heart want-ing flight.--- ♫ Heal to toe she tapped her feet in a world her own.-- And as the mu-sic played- her style was born, smooth and beau-ti-ful.— Dance on, dan-cer dance on! Let the mu – sic play.-- Dance on, danc – er, dance on! Let the ar-tist sway.-- ♪Dance on! (may repeat the)

Oliver. How long you have been writing?

Lee. Poetry all my life, as for the music end of it, maybe several years; some of these songs are from a while ago, before I met Rosario of course.

Oliver [with a curious tone]. Which one did you write about Rosario? [Rosario looks]

Lee [with smile and answer]. “It was always you,” a song from the heart.

Rosario [anxious]. We will have to read that one another day, we really got to go before it gets too late to window shop.

Act V

Before the Bar—
Outside the Apartment

Lee, Oliver and Rosario have walked down the two flights of wooden stairs, and out the building, and are standing outside—alongside the building, saying their goodbyes; Rosario and Lee are about to catch a taxi and head on downtown for a walk, a little shopping, and a bite to eat. Lee has his brown hat on, it is reminiscent of what the gangsters wear, or used to wear [as Rosario has told him many times before], but he likes it and kind of pushes the front down to look a bit more deviate. Rosario is quite conservative in her dress compared to both Oliver and Lee, and has a nice skirt on, and blouse tucked into her waist belt, some white socks on that go halfway up her legs, towards her knee. Her hair is combed backwards, and tied in a ponytail in the back. She is cute, and fresh looking. Lee is handsome and a little flashy, for the most part; and of course, Oliver is loud as loud can be, the colors could blind you if stared at them too long. But Lee, he finds it irresistible, the gleam, and Rosario is more, or better put merely pragmatic; --as a result, they both seem quite happy for some odd reason, I would guess, for the same reason two trees would get bored looking at one another, now put a lake or hill in front of the trees and you got company, and mystery, and a good warm difference. And on comes a long discussion, as Lee tries to get away, waiting for his cab.

Oliver [his cheeks puffed, with a little seriousness]. You folks going to have children soon, yes, no…?

Lee [leaning against the building railing in a loose posture by several cement steps leading down from the apartment-building, Rosario standing a little closer to Oliver after that statement]. Not sure where that came from old buddy, but you sure surprise me with your gobbledygook sometimes. I have no intentions of giving an absolute sacrifice to perfection. Do you not know, perfection cannot raise kids, plus I do not want anyone coming before me—with kids or little rug-rats…I’d be second in the house [jokingly].

Oliver. Rug-rats, gobbledygook, no Rosario what kind of husband do you have here. No one before him, he sounds as if he is God! [A smile and grin appear on his face.]

Rosario [with a sigh]. Will you two just stop it; every time you get together you go on for hours like this [with a high pitched voice]. Yes, yes, you Oliver and my husband, Lee eeeee…both alike, can’t you two talk about sports or something, --everyone else in this city does?

Oliver [acting dumb with a few waves of his head, bobbing back and forth, with the sway of his shoulders, his voice a little shaken]. It just happens to be, your husband doesn’t know a thing about baseball, football, hockey. Not sure what sport he knows.

Lee [rising through his defeat, and defense, sort of]. I’m keen on boxing and karate.

Oliver. Now boxing I can deal with, but this karate thing, what is that, it seems more similar to a chicken fight…I mean, cockfight [a pause, Rosario looking at Oliver].

Rosario. Don’t go there, --Oliver, you like baseball, he likes karate, I like reading, and life goes on.

Oliver. Reading is not a sport.

Rosario. Now you’re on me, I can’t believe this. Where is that taxi, I hope it comes and saves us all.

The taxi just arrives on time; everyone now is saying his or her goodbyes. Rosario kisses Oliver on the cheek, and Lee shakes his hand, telling him, ‘…see yaw later, take care…’etc., as they jump into the taxi and take off.

[ten minutes later]

They are silent in the Taxi …then it stops and they both get out, and you can see them window shopping and looking about, as they stroll down the sidewalk. Then they find themselves hot, and hungry. The Jam Bar is close by, and Lee is having some trouble with his chest from the heat. Breathing is getting a little complicated for him. He is trying to suck in a little more air, trying too hard that is—too much effort Rosario feels.

The Curtain goes Down

Act VI

The Jam Bar
[The Tragedy]

[Inside/at the Jam Bar]

As Rosario and Lee walk inside of the Jam Bar, the coolness of the cross ventilation of the bar is quickly calming for Lee [along with some air-conditioning coming from somewhere, Lee is kind of looking in the air for it, up towards the ceiling]. He is catching his breath and it seems for the most part his body is cooling down. He wipes his brow, and looks about the bar to find a few chairs or stools available. There is an opening at the front of the bar, at the counter, several stools open. The bar is lightly lit, and dampness fills the air (like most dingy bars). The bar smells a bit muggy—that is to say, not refreshing at all, but nonetheless it is cool. A few people are playing pool to the left side at the end of the bar, away from Lee and Rosario. And the bar is long, made of mahogany wood, about twenty feet long. Tables to the left of them are filled, and so are the few that are at the end of the bar. They grab the first of the seven seats they see. There are about five people at the bar; --two at the end of the bar, and three by Rosario and Lee, but sitting about three seats over on the opposite side are two unusual looking people at the end of the bar (unusual to Lee and his wife that is).
They both order cokes…look about as they get situated in their bar seats; -- Lee notices two men at the end of the bar to his left (these are the same two unusual looking people), one looks similar to a boxer, and the other sitting a few seats from him, looks simply plain, that is, plain as in, --he has no sense of him at all for some reason. But the one who looks similar to a boxer looks a bit hungry for something [possibly trouble, so Lee tells himself]. He is a well built Blackman with broad shoulders akin to a cement layer might have; broad and thick neck. His arms rested on the bar. His face is huge, although he I doubt he is over six-foot tall. Big fists attached to an ugly smile: is Lee’s thoughts, more in the vein of a smirk; he looks over towards Lee, as if he is interested in him, or in his wife, or maybe the guys behind Lee, but it looks more as if it was his wife he is and was looking at. Most of the bar is filled with black men of a little different character of what he is used to. Jazz is playing. The whole place is filled with smoke. Some deals were being made, dope Lee told himself. Lee started to drink his coke down quicker, inferring to Rosario, they should leave, but Rosario seemed to be fascinated with the bar, the jazz playing [not interested in the player particular, but the music, the merriment, the different culture and style of life going on in the bar].
Then a young man appeared and started talking to the boxer. As the young man looked at the Blackman, he then looked at Rosario, then both of them [spartanly].
He is about twenty-two year old, a slender tall white man of about six foot, if he had been a male-model before going to prison [and Lee is guessing at that], it would suite him well, he had that confinement look; --marble-smooth skin, --a model type, that might have been the boxer’s lover at one time, if this was fiction, Lee told himself, this is how he’d write it.

He had a thin waist, extraordinary effeminate features for a male—

Surely had he put make up on, and a dress, combed out his hair, he could have been mistaken for a girl. He had mannerisms, composure of a feministic quality, and his looks and gestures were powerful in that area, for they provoked the boxer to not look towards the direction of Lee and his wife for the moment, a long moment [almost as if he was jealous]. His dreamy milky white eyes were cool and sexy, calm and seducing. He smoked his cigarettes with two fingers, at the end of the cigarette. He had a thin, smooth face. He was fascinating to watch, if not foolish: so thought Lee. And at times one could see he had too much makeup on.
Then the young man walked out the backdoor of the bar, and the boxer started to look at Rosario again. It was but a few minutes, and he was three seats closer, yet four seats away from Rosario and Lee. Lee whispered to Rosario, ‘I’ve seen this before, it’s trouble, and let’s go.’ But Rosario insisted she finish her coke. And now the man stood up and sat right next to Rosario. His hands were moving here and there, as if they were going to start going up her legs, yet Rosario didn’t notice them, only Lee, and if trouble started [thought Lee] no one in this bar would help. And so he quickly stood up, took his coke bottle, stepped in-between the two, and told the man to move on, that Rosario was his wife. At this point, Rosario was stunned, almost frozen in fear, if not disbelief.

The boxer [arrogantly, and assuredly]. I don’t hear the woman complaining. [Lee holding solidly onto the bottle and with his left shoulder blocking the right hand of the boxer so it would not exceed his waist.

Lee [becoming more aggressive with his tone]. I said she’s with me, and doesn’t want you Mister, so move on!

The boxer [more harshly]. I don’t move for you, if the lady wants, I’ll go.
[Rosario still in some kind of shock, or misunderstanding, that is, not knowing quite what was going on, and how she got involved with him in the first place, said nothing at first, then became awaken from her frozen state.]

Rosario. I’m with my husband, please don’t start any trouble and leave. [To Lee’s surprise, the man did step-down from the potential fight, more on a hero-kick than anything].

Rosario [to Lee]. What in the world just took place? I mean, I was just enjoying myself and…

Lee. And this dear is what happens when you don’t listen; I asked you to leave, I have been in many bars in my life, and I’ve seen it coming. You were looking at these men, and they took it that you were interested in them, or in particular, the one man. Men don’t need much to carry that feeling or perception. Men and women do not think the same. Women can be friends with men, and women to women can be friends, but very seldom can a man be a friend with a woman, and only a friend; that is to say, if he is attracted to her; matter-of-fact, it is hard for him to be a friend without sex—and that is really what we are talking about—even to a plain looking woman, and in your case, being as pretty as you are, they would go an extra mile at your smile. And black men often times pick up white women because they are easier, or so a black friend of mine once told me, and so he thought you might be on the menu. Men think because you smile at them, you want to go to bed with them, that is, the majority of men.

Rosario. I don’t believe this; you’re making this all up. You’re jealous.

Lee. No, it’s true, just start looking around again like you was doing, and we’ll end up in round two. Listen, the only difference between a male friend and a husband is usually sex, usually I say, but not always. A husband is a friend; a male friend is simply not a husband. There is one big difference though, we are sidekicks, and that makes the big difference.

Rosario [trying to smile]. Yaw sidekick, let’s get the heck out of here, and I mean NNNNNNNOww.

[An attack – Outside the bar]

It is over 100 F this day; Lee and Rosario have just stepped out of the bar onto the sidewalk. The sun is bright, and they both are squinting their eyes, adjusting, getting acclimated from the dark-dingy bar to the outside sunlight world.

A black gap-of time—

A sense of doom, as if he is swallowing, dryness in his mouth appears; he is trying to wet his lips with his tongue.

He braces himself—

He moves his feet apart as if to start wobbling, --thus, holding himself in a stance for a better balance, yet he tries walking farther, about thirty feet from the bar, slowly; --Rosario is looking at Lee, not quite sure what to do, but is about to grab him, the sidewalk is hot, the sun is sitting on top of their heads, although they both have hats on for protection: it is absorbing.
Lee’s heart is starting to twist, contract and squeeze [he is taking little breaths]: approximating to a snake, a python coiled around his heart; it squeezes the life out of it. A sickness is seeping into his veins, his head, his stomach, his bowels, and his ears his nose; —wooziness is overcoming him, as if he needs to go to the bathroom, but can’t go; as if he wants to eat but can’t digest the food. The round-shaped heart, Gods-life-organ, human pump, on the surface side of his chest seems not to be able to stop the grip of the snake, it just will not let go…[small breaths are being taken by Lee, you can see his chest going up and down, up and down, up and down]; the snake is squeezing a little tighter, and tighter, taking his breath away for a second, then a puff of relief, then it starts robbing his air again… no full breaths now, just slow seeping air, slowly, slowly, as his chest goes up and down, up and down, as if his lungs are being filled with water, and it is almost to the top, --the top of the shell, casing, skin. His head is looking, searching for a full breath, but it can’t find it, but he is adjusting to the little puffs of air (if he could cut his throat open and get some he would, but it is not in his throat, it is in his heart). He knows his wife cannot help, unless he takes her air, but that won’t even help, not with the snake coiled around his heart squeezing.

The last sounds of civilization within Lee’s brain are sounds of car wheels on the payment, the wind carrying the voices of people, a few radios from the cars can be heard as they pass by, clusters of mixed voices, yet they all seem to be going away from him with each little breath of air, half breath of air, and even less than that; --actually his focus is becoming much clearer as he penetrates Rosario’s eyes, and starts to block most everything else out.
Lee can now taste the sweat dripping on his forehead as it rolls over skin and protruding bone on his face to reach his lips, and melt into his mouth onto his tongue. It is salty at best, and it has a life to itself, as the sounds go away, the taste now has taken over and that also is evaporating into oblivion.
With all of this, his level-headedness is fading, his sense of feel is leaving him, although Rosario is holding his hand, it is as if he is numb. He has to move his fingers to sense her touch.
He is thinking now, now that all the sensory things are duller, thinking of what he left behind, if anything for Rosario, he concludes he did leave her a few songs [he is feeling as if he’s being put into a box, and everything is in a far off distance now]. He knows he got to do something before the box is closed up on all six sides. He hasn’t got a list of things he wishes he would have done, had he more time, because he done everything he ever wanted to; if there was a list, it would simply be a new one made up of things he’s added to an already fulfilled one. The movements of life are almost non-existence, and the snake is squeezing his heart harder, without mercy now. ‘I am just a name now…’ he tells himself, his character will leave in whatever essence departs a body at death in a moment now, he know this. To the world around him, like when he was born, he is just another name—his time is now; he knows somewhere in the world some on is being born at this very moment, thus he must make room for that one person. Now, now he will be impression left behind for Rosario.

Rosario starts to steady him she knows something is happening and it is progressively resembling a heart attack: number three. Lee tries to smile at Rosario, catches his breath, and falls to one knee, a simple fall, his blood is still pumping. His eyebrows jump a quarter of an inch; he all of a sudden turned pale, white hair appearing: waxy face. His thoughts are no longer on tomorrow, the taxes, the bar scene, the bills, they will get paid or not, it doesn’t really matter anymore. His mind is not on much, other than this very moment in time—and what is beyond this time; he knew it would come, this day, he just never choreographed it, it is as if it was birth—it is just taking place, yet he can’t remember that either, birth, why does he have to go through this he tells himself, and Rosario. He tells himself the snake took a good squeeze that time, this last time, but not enough to keep his eyes closed forever, no not yet, he has a will, and catches a half decent breath. He will fight the snake, at least for another round: to smile at his wife once more, let her know she was a good wife, and he love her; he’s made peace with God, but perhaps it will not hurt to let him know, he’s on his way and he is now in his hands, for better or worse.
A tear is coming from Rosario’s eye, her strength is melting like his, but she got to be strong, as she lays his head softly on the ground, putting her purse behind his head as a pillow, loosening up his belt so he can breath better, putting the hat in the proper position so the sun doesn’t hit his face directly. She’s a nurse she tells herself, ‘Then why am I panicking?’ but she doesn’t wait for the answer. She feels the sidewalk, a murmur, ‘…god, it’s so hot…’ she says, then—looks at Lee, the cars—

[Outside of the Bar on the sidewalk]

As Lee lays there, the heart attack is under way getting stronger by the minute, and minutes are like hours, they are if anything, the last minutes that he will have to tell her whatever he needs to, they are important minutes, ones that will stay with her for endless days, hours, seconds, he knows he’s got to say, if anything, the right things; --there on the hot cemented sidewalk; Rosario is looking for help now, seemingly, helplessly [she is almost in a horror state, she is wailing and starting to pull her hair out of her head out of frustration, ‘…where is the ambulance she is mumbling…’], a stranger nearby is writing something down [--across the street by another bar is a stranger yelling something.

Lee is looking up at the sun—Rosario close to him, he tells her he feels ‘in safe hands,’ when she is by him; the sun looks similar to a big orange ball to him. He tells her, “I have no more dreams, I have fulfilled them all”—now everything is fading, he is thinking: ‘everything was—was—was,’ as if he had never been. At this point, he is not remembering clearly, nothing clearly—but he feels secure with Rosario, comforted, clearly as the minutes go by this is all he can remember…the safe feeling, and even that is becoming a sensitivity in the distance, an notion being left behind.

Stranger [yelling at Rosario by another bar from across the street]. An ambulance is come— it’s coming, --hold on!!

Rosario [Eyes wide open, tears rolling down her cheeks, like a storm from out of a tornado. He is gasping for air, his heart is liken to someone is squeezing, twisting out the remaining liquid in a rag; --Rosario knows it hurts, but doesn’t know how much, and what to do at the moment, she’s terrified]. Oh Lee, what can I do for you, if only I knew? If you looked at Lee’s eyes, looked, deep into them, you’d know, he knew, there is nothing at this moment anyone can do. But he can’t tell her that, it would only panic her more…he knows that—

Rosario is looking at him, she can scarcely recognize the natural color of his face, the redness to his cheeks, his lips; --everything is turning pale—ever so pale, a dreadful paleness: waxy white. Her mouth opens now, as if to say ‘my god…!” has murmured in a quite way, ‘…death has its colors…’— her eyes red and wet from weeping, she is becoming exhausted from the ordeal. A person can only take so much, and this is becoming too much, and Lee see this.

Lee [whispers]. Calm down Rosario, please…you’ve been a very good wife. You’re doing it, just hold my hand, if this is it, let it be a lasting magical moment, and let’s grab the moment, as we have always done. [Lee looks around him, there are three other people in back of Rosario know, he knows he is dying, he raises his head to say something]. He says, each person is born differently, each will pass on differently [Lee adds to his dialogue, the face of him, is like, --life is moving away] Rosario [he says], death is coming near, I’m a little scared, but it is revealing more to me, stay close to me please, heck, people die everyday, don’t they [he adds this into to his talk as a rhetorical question with jest].

Silence prevails, [He rests now, lowering his head.]. In life [he adds] sometimes it’s the journey that counts not the duration that counts, little wife, I got half and half. And we were just getting to know one another. I cannot remember how it was without you, funny, this curious topic –- death.

How fresh, how calm he looks all of a sudden to Rosario, a new day would never come [she knew] for them two, but he was calm. “What bad luck,” she said they had today, and he said, “What good luck we’ve had all those previous days.” What was his calmness? What was his joy? She thought to herself, --and what is it that fills him with harmless anticipation?

[Lee doesn’t speak anymore] Rosario is screaming over his face now [changing from calm to calamity within her neurological system], telling him not to die [but he is now dead]; he is not answering her questions, she’s panicking, someone—an onlooker, says: ‘…he’s dead miss, he can’t hear you’. People are looking at her, as her body and head is going up and down, looking—looking for the ambulance.

One of the strangers standing by is a poet of sorts, one might say like Lee, and he is writing down notes, it will be a poem. On the radio tomorrow morning many will hear the evening news of the following day, the man called Lee Walters, will have died 12-minutes before he was put into the ambulance. And the poem he will write will be published in a local newspaper.

2nd Avenue [A Poem]:

I saw a man die yesterday
--A man I never knew--
With all the dignity of a dog,
He died at thirty-two.

He lay face down on a sidewalk
His heart dying within His flesh:
His white skin absorbing the sun
Observers, motionless;

O! I know it’s not uncommon
For such a happening
Within a crowed asphalt city
Where people are just things

But then it hard to submit
--even with our morels and mores
A life taken so simply;
When after--the unspoken door.

The paper read: “1 man dies…32
By heart attack--Second Ave…
From…who knows where…7 P.M…
Outside ‘a bar-called Jam…”’

The motive--
It was hot that day…

[A note by the author of the poem in the newspaper read: “I had stopped in the bar call Jam that day. And was walking down the street when I heard someone yelling; --I turned around and saw a woman bent over a man that was having a heart attack. I really didn’t know what to do, but stood by. The man dropped his head after saying something, fifteen-feet from me. The ambulance came but I think it was too late, he died. I did a lot of drinking myself at the bar that day, it was hot, I mean really hot, tempers in the bar was going up, up and away; people angry at nothing, anything, just angry. It was a very hot day, I know I already said that, but it was the only motive for the heart attack.”]

As Lee would have said, ‘There is nothing for certain in life, but on the other side of the coin, everything is possible.’ Oliver of course was notified of his death, as were the usual people. But the Good Lord gave him ‘One more mile,’ and who can complain about that, he never did☺

The End of the Fruit Cake


The Curtain goes Down


Note: although this is the end to the play, and the story per se, there is some additional data, the two song-poems not put directly into the story. These can be read directly from the poetic-lyric’s, and/or played by a background of musicians, and sung, if desired, for of course, the enjoyment of the reader or play. The two songs not put into the play will now be written out (or can be at anytime), and the sheet music of the five –poetic-songs, will also be produced for the person who can/or wishes to read and play music [upon request]. If this is to be done as a play, the music for the five songs can be played throughout the play at the discretion of the director or producer…