Tuesday, July 27, 2010

And the solution of the Kinaalda question


(Bonnie’s grave. Night. Wind is blowing. Rob enters, dressed in an overcoat and scarf, leather gloves. He is faultlessly groomed and is now completely Judge Gallagher. He walks to the statue and stands, hands crossed in front of him. In the darkness, we see a bit of movement. It is Charlotte. She enters silently and sits on the bench behind him. A long silence. Rob’s shoulders start to shake a bit and his head drops. Charlotte stands and comes to him, lays her head against his back and puts her arms around him. This must be quiet and low key.)
Riza cries herself to sleep, asking for you. Robbie wants to know what he did wrong.
I know. I’m sorry.
Charlie’s my son, Charlotte.
I know. And I am Riza and Robbie’s mother.
Seven years old! And already...this...morbid. Hateful.
Don’t. Don’t. He can’t help it. Maybe they’ll be someone in Washington who understands this.
I’m not sure you should come with us.

ALAS, BEING GOOD PARENTS, she goes to Washington.

AND NOW, THE OPENING OF FRENZY WITCHCRAFT. Ladies and gentlemen, fresh from the bowels of Hell: Charles Solomon Gallagher:

(Charlie’s voice blasts a war cry and he runs down the aisle and onto the stage, dressed only in jeans and boots, soaked with water, soaked with rain. The music is “Guilty” by Gravity Kills. Loud. He dances joyously, glorying in the rain on his body. There is a duffel bag at the edge of the stage. The music stops.)

Charlie, full power
GOD BLESS THE ARIZONA RAINSTORM! POW! BAM! AND GONE! Black sky’s already full of stars again. Like diamonds on the breast of their Mother, anthracite. Damn, but freedom is sweet!

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