The story so far: we have established that Dan's best friend and mentor, a 91 year-old woman called Esme, has died. Her funeral was today. Dan has slipped back to his office to be alone and think about her. He has poured a single shot of sherry into a tea mug in order to toast her, but got interrupted before he could drink it. He's also brought the funeral Order of Service with him.
Scene 2
Dan collects himself, then puts away the Order of Service: the moment’s passed. He picks up a pile of notes, and starts working his way through them, not really getting anywhere.
Beat.
A light momentarily fills the room. It could almost be from a car’s headlights except it’s the wrong shade. Possibly a sound also accompanies this. If so, it too should be something almost ordinary, like a car horn heard from a distance, but not quite: something to make you notice it as strange, but easily dismiss it again.
Dan doesn’t perceive any of this.
He takes out the Order of Service again, looking at the photo. Bleak.
Beat.
Another knock at the door.
Esme walks tentatively through the door. She is in her latest twenties, and dressed respectably for office work in 1948.
He turns to look at her.
Beat.
Dan Esme.
He approaches her. Total, hopeless delight.
Esme Hello.
Dan looks again at the funeral order of service, which shows Esme as a young woman, then back at Esme.
Dan I’m hallucinating.
Esme Possibly. Is that all right?
Dan walks over to her, hesitantly holds her arms, her hands, stares at her.
He suddenly pulls her into a tight hug, holds her for a few seconds, desperately, then lets her go.
Dan You can’t be here.
Esme No. Good point.
Dan You’re not real.
Esme Not exactly.
Dan turns away from her, faces the audience.
She approaches and puts a hand on his shoulder. He responds to her touch.
Pause.
Dan Please be real.
Pause.
Esme I’ll put the kettle on.
Esme goes over to the cupboard, takes out the tea and starts making two cups.
Dan Is it you?
Esme Not quite. I’m a shadow, that’s all. Sorry.
Dan You’re young.
Esme I’m at the age when I look the most like me, I think.
Dan Esme, you’re gone. Do you know?
Esme In a way. I’m two things. I know I died, I know you loved me. But mostly I’m me, here. I’m 29, just starting my career, just back from a horse riding trip through Italy. Do you understand?
Dan No.
Esme You’re right. It’s metaphysical nonsense. Sorry.
Dan I’m going mad.
Esme Possibly.
Dan What happens now?
Pause.
Dan You sit down. I’ll make it.
Dan goes over to the kettle, picking up the mug on the way, and Esme sits down.
He has nowhere to pour the sherry, so he downs it surreptitiously.
The sherry makes him cough dramatically. Esme runs over and pats him on the back. He’s eventually OK.
Dan Down the wrong way.
Esme You haven’t made it yet.
She spots the sherry bottle, but says nothing.
Dan gets on with boiling the kettle.
He doesn't look at her.
Esme I’m sorry, Dan. It must be hard that I’m here.
Dan Hard?
Pause.
Dan Do you still...sugar? I only keep it for you. Kept it.
Esme I know. This isn’t like you, Dan. I’m back from the dead. Your best friend. You should be doing what you do: experimenting, asking me personal questions, testing your eyesight.
Dan I can’t. (Pause.) It’s like...all right, can you remember what it feels like to wake up from a dream? Or, not even quite wake up. The dream’s still wrapped around you but you’re just conscious enough to understand how precious it is and you know if you push it, if you try to control what happens, if you ask too many questions...and you can’t go back.
Esme No questions, then.
Dan Thanks.
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3 comments:
Oh, beautiful. Genuinely beautiful. Given that it's only a tiny passage that 'Please be real' is hauntingly lovely, and all of their dialogue just bounces between them nicely, a whole relationship conveyed there. And I love the idea of a relationship in reverse, almost; he's meeting a young woman for the first time, but they already know each other and have that long-established dynamic. Really well-conveyed, and really touching, good job.
So glad! Last count, that was about draft 9, I think! I feel like it's finally starting to take shape, this play. I'm starting to figure out how it can work.
I've read millions of versions of this scene by now, so I doubt I have anything new to say, but I just wanted to point out how wonderfully it works in isolation.
Esme's role as a wise but non-existent spirit guide is lovely, and her dialogue serves that role well. Dan's desperation for her to stay is subtly done. Very nice.
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