ABSURD DRAMA SCRIPT FOUR OF A KIND OF A HAPPY FAMILY

The mere idea of writing a play, creating something at the end of which I can proudly say It is mine, was thrilling. It was thrilling because I thought it was easy. After all, I have read hundreds of plays and I always though Eh! I can do that too! But after two and a half months of toiling, after multiple rejections and pushes, after a case of what I seriously consider as writers block, a semblance of a play has been created. I had chosen the genre of absurd drama, as it seemed the most logical for an amateur attempt. But it turned out to be the toughest of them all. In the end, it just does not feel absurd enough for an absurd drama. But a creative endeavour has been undertaken, and has been fulfilled to an extent. The play, in

itself, does have its own good sides. Looking at hindsight, it does seem like it has subconsciously been inspired by many writers and playwrights whom I adore, in spite of me being firmly conscious of not imitating any of them. But all said and done, it has been utterly satisfying. I am proud of choosing to do something different, and for a change not because it was the easy way out, but because I actually wanted to. It seemed like the right thing to do. It was more of a test for me, a challenge, to testify the five years of English novels, plays, criticisms, and discussions that were an integral part of my life. Research has been done since the last three semesters. I had taken topics, researched on them, added a bit of my own to it, and that was all. But this was a totally different experience. Starting from scratch, it felt refreshing. Then it got scary. Then it was frustrating. As the picture grew clearer and clearer after each scene, there was a feeling of joy. And the end was a sigh, and satisfaction.

The characters in the play are nasty, cold, calculating and selfish. But at the same time there is an air of poignancy around them. They all yearn for something. They yearn for approval, they yearn for acceptance, they yearn for reconciliation, and they yearn for some warmth. But no one gets anything. Why they yearn for what they do, is not known. What are their motives, what are the reasons behind the unknown motives, why do they say what they say, why do they do what they do, why are they where they are, who are they, and what will happen to them. All these questions remain unanswered. The answers for these questions keep on looping in the minds of the audience when they are confronted with an absurd play, and that is what keeps them engrossed throughout. The audience does not make sense of what is going on but still await the next scene. They do so not because they want to know what will happen next, but they are curious as to whether the next scene will help them understand what has already happened. The play holds the attention of the audience because they feel the need to focus their entire attention to the play in order to make sense of it. That is the beauty of absurd drama. It interweaves sense into chaos.

The whole idea of writing an absurd drama was also strongly based on the fact that it is open to interpretations. There is no definite wrong or right in this genre. In fact, there is nothing that can be pinpointed in the play to have any sort of moral and ethical aspects. The real world is torn to shreds by absurd drama. The rules of the real world do not apply here. Anything can happen, and it will happen right in your face. And after it has occurred, it will stand and look at you with a smirk on its face, because it knows that you are wondering how the hell can that happen! A heightened sense of realism is displayed. Aspects, topics, and the

nuances of the real world are taken in the play, but all are represented in a much heightened sense, a sense which is not applicable in the real world. There is a complete suspension of disbelief. Questions will arise. But they will not be answered at all. The audience can just do one thing; try to keep up with what has happened, and leave at the end, contemplating on what happened.

Through this play, I have tried to create something which is absurd, which reflects absurdity, and what can pass as absurd drama. The characters in the play are not inspired by specific people, but certain characteristics of each are. A character in an absurd drama is something with which the audience can never identify, as no character is constant in what he/she does. But one can relate in bits and pieces, and these fragments come together to create the characters. Abbey Ranter, Mrs. Viogreen alias Karen, Dr. Deecaz alias Dirk, and Stephen are characters which may or may not be relatable if we take the whole play as a reference. But one can surely relate to the loneliness that Abbey feels at the end, the anger that Stephen harbours against Dr. Deecaz and the love of Karen and Dirk for each other. But one will surely not relate to the coming back to life, the black blood of Dr. Deecaz, the obsession of Abbey with inanimate objects, and the cold blooded murders which result in resurrection. It is a combination of suspense, mystery, and horror, with sprinklings of absurdity in the dialogues, and decent absurdity as far as the five Ws and H goes. The qualities of absurd drama, which are; illogical, irrational, nonsensical, weird, resembles nightmares etc. are fulfilled to a certain extent. As fulfilling the experience of writing the play was, it was as much fun seeing the final draft as the process gets over.

WHAT YOU CANNOT UNDERSTAND, YOU CAN MAKE IT MEAN

ANYTHING. - CHUCK PALAHNIUK

SCENE ONE

[The room is dark. The whole room gives out an eerie feeling. It feels isolated from the world. A solitary couch rests in the centre of the room. It is shabby, with dark patches all over, and cotton peeping out at multiple places. It looks fragile. The walls are painted in dark green, and the red couch stands out amidst the background. One single door stands at the back, and two windows enclose it. The windows are covered with black curtains, which are surprisingly clean. They are spotless, and in complete disharmony to the dirty, messy, unused room]

[The ear picks up footsteps. Slow, staggering ones. Whoever it is, the person has difficulty in walking normally. The person feels weak. As they near, the steps grow faster, as if in a hurry. Along with the footsteps, a bigger rustling sound is heard. The person is dragging something along behind. A few moments later, one leg is seen, outstretched. Then gradually, a figure emerges from the door, enters the room, bent forward, pulling something along. As moments pass and the dragging process is over, a coffin is on its way into the room. The man holds the rivets on the side of the coffin, and heaves it into the room with a final deep breath. He stands up, and stands still. He is a man, in his late thirties. He is of a medium build, but his face gives away a lot of strain and sufferings he might have endured lately. His hair is dishevelled, and he has a month's growth of facial hair. He has a sharp nose, which ends abruptly, to slope down into dry, thin, white lips. But there is something more to his face. Something abnormal. He looks pale, but not the normal I-am-sick pale. He looks greyish at places. He has purple circles under his eyes. His palms are blue, and so are his bare feet. He wears a black, wornout leather jacket, which has a prominent rip on the left shoulder. Beneath the jacket one can see a dirty, white tee. His light brown pants look dark brown, because of the dust that has seeped into the fabric. He walks, and drags his feet with a rustling sound. As he stands, he slowly takes in the whole room in one gaze. He watches the walls, and then the curtains. He smiles as his gaze rests on them. He then shifts his vision to the couch, and sighs. He comes around, and bends down to kiss the couch, caressing the dirty leather with his hands. Then he plops on the couch, and looks up at the fan. He laughs out loud, as the fan creaks and goes on spinning round in a lazy manner] Abbey: Ever the same ever the steady ever the punctual ever the rhythmic...my marathon man

[He stands up on the couch, and raises his right hand, letting the tips of his fingers brush lightly against the fan, as the blades rotate slowly. He looks down, and raises his other hand too. He raises his left leg simultaneously, and stands still, balancing himself on one leg, both hands up in the air. After a few seconds, he gives up and returns to the normal posture]

Abbey: Balance. Too damn difficult in this twisted world. Mere mortals are destined to die and still not understand how. All the balance we do is coffee mugs full to the brim, from the kitchen to the table, or the machine to our desk, or....... I don't understand. I am a mere mortal after all. I will make sense soon enough. It will.

[He then looks at the coffin, and suddenly shivers. He hugs himself, and mutters under his breath]

Abbey: I am feeling cold. He did it to me. I did it to me. I let him do it to me.

[He gets up, and goes to the coffin. He kicks it, lightly. He bends forward as if checking for the hint of a sound. Then he stands up straight and shrugs his shoulders]

Abbey: I will need help. I hope that Stephen is here today. I have been calling him up since a month. Why won't he help me? I was good to him. Is he good? I wonder why he won't help me. I wonder why he wouldn't be good to me. I am cold. I have been cold since yesterday. But have I complained? If I can bear, I am sure he can come save me. Show up on time. I will wait, but I can't for long. I have others to look forward to. He better come. Its already late.

[Abbey slouches back to the couch. He sits on the edge, and stares at the coffin. Then as he opens his mouth to speak, footsteps are heard. Controlled, rhythmic, composed ones. Abbey sits straight. His eyes sparkle with anticipation. A man peeps into the room, and looking at Abbey, enters hesitantly. He looks like an executive. His hair is neatly made, pitch black and parted from the centre. He has neat, ironed clothes. He wears a beige shirt, complimented by black, corduroy pants. He wears fine crafted shoes, black ones. He is dressed impeccably, and as he enters the room, he looks totally out of place. He comes around, before the couch, and looks at the coffin, and throws a resigned look at Abbey, who is smiling at him]

Stephen: I can't believe you are still after it Abbey. Did Mother not tell you to let it be? And I came here assuming you had made up your mind, and wanted to come back, but as usual, you just played me. Even Mr. Deecaz had told me to help you get over it, long ago. It has been six years Abbey, and you are not going to get them back. But let me at least help you not ruin the ones left. All of us worry. Will you please consider us?

Abbey: It will, Stephen, it will. It has to. I have called you here for help, not condescension. Dr. Deecaz does not know what he is talking about anymore.

Stephen: No Abbey. Please get up, and let me walk you back to Paradise Island. I am shocked at how you managed to survive all the while here, all by yourself. We waited in forever misery, for the cops to call us and inform about your body being found in a trench, or a sewer sooner or later.

Abbey: Sorry to disappoint you all.

[Stephen's shoulders drop. He sighs, and sits beside him. Abbey gets up in horror, stares at him, then composes himself, and stands at a distance, looking at him. Stephen looks at the coffin and asks]

Stephen: Who is he? Abbey: So you are sure it's a he.

Stephen: I know you won't touch a female.

Abbey: I am not sure you know me now.

Stephen: What makes you say that? I am offended. Abbey: I should be. You said I killed a him, without asking me if I killed a him.

Stephen: Are you telling me you did not?

Abbey: I don't see you asking me, and you think I am telling you. Twist of fate there I would say.

Stephen: Will it help if I asked?

Abbey: I wouldn't count on it.

Stephen: So what would help?

Abbey: If you are not this irritating maybe.

[Abbey smiles and walks around in the room. Stephen looks around, searching for words. He is visibly uncomfortable with Abbey not looking at him. He looks straight, and waits for Abbey to say something]

Abbey: Have you ever been to a garden Stephen?

Stephen: Yes I have.

Abbey: What would you say is worth eating there? Stephen: Wont it depend on what type of garden are you referring to? And how that could be different from the type of garden I am thinking about?

Abbey: Say if I was in a garden full of brown, dry, rotten grass, surrounded by mulch. A garden from where I can see my house, but I still don't feel like going there. A garden which used to be beautiful, but is in ruins now. A garden where no one wants to set foot, and which makes everyone revolt in disgust at its mere sight. A garden where there is no life anymore, just carcasses, remains, dead matter. A garden where the dead live and rejoice. A garden where the dead do not try to be a part of life anymore. A garden which is not a garden anymore.

Stephen: I don't think I will be hungry anymore.

Abbey: Then you would not have to eat anything there? Stephen: I dont get the point.

Abbey: You missed the point. Anyway I wouldn't expect you to understand. Rather I wouldn't expect anyone to understand. Except my marathon man, who knows what it is to be alive in spite of being dead, who knows what is to go on till the end, who never gives up, and who never thinks on a different path but it's own and still manages to remain rooted.

Stephen: So you won't come back home?

[Abbey smiles at him. He keeps a hand on Stephen's shoulder and squeezes it hard. Stephen winces]

Abbey: We people, Stephen, do not have a home.

Stephen: You do, Abbey. 5th avenue, Haven house, Paradise Island.

Abbey: I vaguely remember something like that. Have I been there?

Stephen: It is the Ranter house. It is our house.

Abbey: Interesting name. I would prefer to name my child something else. Something that lasts, something that won't end abruptly, something people will remember for long.

Stephen: Like?

Abbey: Something like Super Zero. Stephen: Isnt that a bit fancy?

[Abbey stares at him]

Abbey: Don't belittle it. It's important for me.

Stephen: How come?

Abbey: Because I thought of it.

[Stephen smiles nervously, as Abbey stares at him viciously]

Stephen (meekly): You need to stop thinking.

[Abbey looks away from him, and stares at the fan]

Abbey: Unfortunate to have the burden. We just can't, can we? We are responsible citizens. We need to heave things up, we need to push things down, we need to bear and bear and suffer and suffer and not expect and go on unnoticed and still carry on but the only thing that hurts is not one thing but many things altogether which you people just cannot imagine and here we are facing it from day to day and not uttering a word of protest because it is written.

[Stephen keeps on looking at him, dumbfounded] Stephen: Dont mind me asking Abbey, but have you been doing drugs? You seem like you are high.

Abbey: Way beyond others for sure. People like you. You cannot imagine how high I am. I fly. Mere people aspire, I conquer.

Stephen (with a tone of sadness): Mere people suffer at the hands of conquerors.

[Abbey angrily looks at him, but the next moment his countenance mellows down, and he smiles at Stephen]

Abbey: You haven't been to the garden, so you wouldn't know. You are just naive. Anyway I shouldn't have indulged you in this conversation. It is futile. It is like all are. Forget it. [Stephen gets up from the couch in exasperation. He starts roaming around in circles, in circles around the couch. Abbey sits still, not looking at Stephen. Stephen has his hands

behind his back, and he looks down as he walks hurriedly around the couch. He goes around to the back of the couch, looks at Abbeys head, and then sighs and continues walking]

[Abbey sits still. Stephen wipes his sweaty face with his bare hands, looks around in desperation, and says with a sort of finality]

Stephen: What about Mother?

Abbey: What about her?

Stephen: You don't know?

Abbey: No. And I suppose you are going to tell.

Stephen: She is worried. She grows weaker day by day.

Abbey: That is not possible. It has been six years. She should be dead by now.

[Then he stares at Stephen, as if he suddenly has had knowledge of something. He looks at Stephen with disbelief, and then laughs gloriously]

Abbey: I had not thought about her since long.

Stephen (offended): Seems so.

Abbey: An awful lot of things seem to seem clear now. Am I right Stephen?

Stephen: Except a few. And those are the important ones too. But I do not think you think of me enough to disclose them to me.

Abbey: Only one thing should get the utmost importance. Things cannot get importance. Then the importance will be shared between them, which make everything less important than the actual importance. So you are not giving the required importance to the one thing which deserves the utmost importance. That is the difference between you people and us

people. We know when we see the one who which what deserves and zero in on that it him her and stick to that it him her. Importance is too important to be shared in this not so important event called life.

Stephen: You used to be important Abbey.

Abbey: I still am.

Stephen: No you are not.

Abbey: How are you so sure?

Stephen (confused): Because I would know?

[Abbey looks at him wildly. He gets up and angrily walks towards Stephen, and grabs him by the collars. Stephen is taken aback, and struggles to free himself from his clutches]

Abbey: Why didn't you tell me? So you can help me? Why didn't you tell me earlier? I have been looking for someone like you. I have been waiting for someone like you.

[He suddenly stops. He looks at Stephen, who is terrified and dumbstruck, and gaping at him with dazed eyes and an open mouth. Abbey loosens his grip and walks backwards, looking at Stephen, and suddenly looks up at the fan and laughs wildly. He keeps laughing and in the meanwhile comes around and throws himself on the couch, still laughing. Stephen does not move; neither do the expressions on his face. He stands still and watches Abbey. Abbey stops laughing after sometime, and coughs for a while, trying to stop. He then looks up at Stephen, and says amidst mild laughter]

Abbey: A case of mistaken identity Stephen. I thought something which I am sure you did not mean. You should apologize. Don't you think?

[He looks at the fan, and sighs]

Abbey: it is ok. It is ok. It is ok. It is ok. It is Ok. It is ok. I can live with that my marathon

man. I can't be totally like you right? I need to feel something lacking in me to feel alive, or else there is no competition for me.

[He strains his ear, stretching his face towards the fan. The fan whirs around, creakily at times, and smoothly at times. Abbey concentrates]

Abbey: I know. But he doesn't know. That is the tricky thing about knowledge. You know it better than me. I am striving, even he will have to. What would the doctor think if I don't think practically?

[Then he laughs a mocking laughter]

Abbey: Well, I will change things before he comes. He will know. Don't you worry. He won't know.

[He sits straight, and closes his eyes. Stephen is standing behind him all the while, at the back of the couch. He moves, and comes around, and slumps on the couch. Abbey opens his eyes, looks at him and smiles. He gets up and starts moving around. Stephen is shivering]

Abbey: Tell me something.

Stephen: Uh huh...

[Silence...]

Abbey: I am waiting.

Stephen: For what?

Abbey: For you to say something. What else?

[Stephen grows stiff with anxiety. He looks as if he is trying hard to think of something to say]

Abbey: Do you believe in the balance of life?

Stephen: Mmmmm I do.

[Abbey turns towards him, and stands behind him, his hands on the couch's backrest. Stephen is acutely conscious about Abbey hovering over him, and he cringes. He can see Abbey's shadow in front of him, lurking over his own]

Abbey: So you can balance yourself?

[Stephen hesitates, thinking of an appropriate answer]

Stephen: I guess I can.

Abbey: So you think you can balance life after you are dead?

[Stephen shivers]

Stephen: Is it me or you too feel it is growing cold around here?

Abbey (in a growling voice): Answer.

Stephen licks his lips, and gulps.

Stephen: I will know once I am dead.

Abbey: Do you feel like it?

Stephen: No I don't.

Abbey: You just said you guess you can.

Stephen: Yes I can.

Abbey: Interesting. Am I the only one who doesn't?

Stephen: Uh huh...

Abbey: Get up. Come here.

[Stephen gets up slowly, unsure whether he wants to get up. Abbey taps him on the back of his head, and Stephen immediately gets up and turns towards Abbey. He is already besides the door, looking up. Stephen follows the trail of his gaze and notices a black wet trail on the wall. It ends on the floor, where there is a tiny hole and the black water trail seeps down into it. The trail originates from where the fan is. The water does not drip down at any point from the fan to the side wall. It moves in a jagged trajectory, from the fan to the ceiling, all the way to the side wall. Then it slowly simmers down to a faint line, and disappears beneath the wooden floor]

Abbey: My marathon man. Takes it all in, and still persists. Takes it all, but still goes on. I wish I could be like him I wish all could be like him but no one is and that is why it is all tangled and twisted and not the way it should be and which is consistent and rhythmic and blah....

[Stephen looked up, then looked at Abbey and muttered something inaudible...]

Abbey: Exactly.

Stephen: Uh huh. I am not sure what are we looking at. A black, wet line of water?

Abbey: A beautiful, original, wet trail. It has been here for years. You wouldn't know.

[He turns towards the fan]

Abbey: A beautiful, original, man. He has been here for years. You wouldn't know now, would you?

[Stephen looks at him with confusion]

Abbey: Look at the trail...So disturbing, yet so beautiful. So random, yet it has a sort of hidden symmetry. Isn't it like that something what I am looking for? What do you say Stephen? Would you like to get wet under the flow? Would you?

Stephen: There is no flow.

Abbey: Then how come it ends up here from my marathon man? Don't you think he has got something to do with it?

[He turns towards Stephen, and stares at him. Stephen looks at him, and catches his breath. Abbey moves towards him. Stephen says hastily]

Stephen: Yessyess. And I am so happy you got that something finally... Though I, frankly, do not know what 'that' is

[He looks away as soon as he speaks these words, as if he did not want to look at Abbey, as if he knew he had said something terribly wrong. He gasps and turns towards the door. He takes deep breaths, as if he has difficulty breathing. He rubs his palms together]

Stephen: It's growing colder by the minute here Abbey. I am sure.

Abbey: Ohh. You are sure? Let's see.

[Abbey goes over to the coffin, and touches it with an extended leg]

Abbey: I agree. It is time. But you have to get another one that is lying outside and place it near this one. Will you do that for me?

[Stephen freezes and says meekly]

Stephen: Another one??

Abbey: Outside. Now would be great.

[Saying this, Abbey goes around to the couch, whistling a random tune, and sits down, with his right leg resting on his left thigh. Stephen stands there for a few moments, unsure, and walks out of the door. Abbey sits there all the while. After a few minutes, Stephen comes into the room, dragging a coffin, but he does not seem to be putting any effort in carrying it. He easily drags it, with a single hand, and props it besides the first one. He dusts off his pants, then his shoulders, and carefully brushes away the tuft of hair from his forehead. He stands there, clueless, looking at Abbey. Abbey stands up, and examines the coffin. It is the same as the first one. Black wood, polished, bronze iron rivets on the sides. White stripes run from side to side. A red cross rests in the centre of the coffin's surface]

Abbey: Good.

Stephen: Uh huh...

[Abbey looks at him with, a look mixed with amused curiosity and exasperated tiredness. Stephen stands, clueless. Abbey looks. Abbey moves. Abbey reaches the curtains. Abbey pulls down one curtain. Abbey comes close to the couch. Abbey climbs the couch. Abbey jumps in front of Stephen. Abbey throws the curtain on Stephen. Stephen lets out a shriek. Abbey climbs on him. Abbey forces him to drop to the floor. Stephen thrashes around wildly. Muffled shrieks fill up the room. The rustling sounds of the curtain fill up the room. The tangled figure of Stephen thrashes. The tangled figure of Stephen gropes. Abbey on top sits still. Abbey on top sits calm. He holds the throat of Stephen through the fabric. The form of Stephen shudders underneath the fabric. Muffled punches hit Abbey over the shoulders. Futile attempts to scratch and claw Abbey are brushed away by Abbey. Stephen gradually stiffens. Abbey gradually eases his grip. Stephen lays flaccid. Abbey stands up. He stands still. Stephen's body does not move. Abbey stands, breathing normally. He then looks up at the fan, and winks]

Abbey: I am coming for you my marathon man. Not far behind.

[He then slowly walks towards the switchboard on the left side wall, stepping over Stephen's dead body in the way, and looks back as he reaches]

Abbey: So it begins.

[He switches off the light. The room is engulfed in darkness. The room is silent]

SCENE TWO

Two coffins are visible in the same setting. The room is the same as before, except for a few minor changes. There are five small curtains now, over the two windows, each having three small glasses in partition. One glass over from the left side window is missing a curtain. The two coffins are placed diagonally, in front of the couch. The fan creaks along with a weary sound. The ear picks up footsteps. Slow, staggering ones. Whoever it is, the person is walking with difficulty. The person feels weak. As they come near, the steps grow faster, as if in a hurry. Along with the footsteps, a bigger rustling sound is heard. The person is dragging something along behind. A few moments later, one leg is seen, outstretched. Then gradually, Abbey emerges from behind the door, enters the room, bent forward, pulling something along. As moments pass and the dragging process is over, another coffin is in the room. The coffin is the same as the earlier two. Abbey holds the rivets on the side of the coffin, and heaves it into the room with a final deep breath. He stands up, and stands still. He looks different. He looks weird. He is still bluish and greyish and purplish at places, as if he has been battered without mercy. But there are other things. His eyes are red, and he is able to close his eyelids only partially, that too with much difficulty. He keeps on trying to open his jaw and shut it, the way small kids chew their gum. It looks as if it is making a lot of effort. He scratches his neck, and rotates it. He is unable to. The cracking sound of his neck as he tries harder, and the expression on his already creepy face as he winces in pain, is not a pretty sight. He comes over to the couch, and walks in an amusing manner as his neck hurts, and he doesn't dare move it even an inch anymore. He walks looking straight, and sits on the couch looking straight. As he sits, he raises his hand up to the fan, and makes an ' All- Good' sign with his thumb. He opens his mouth bit by bit, and says,

Abbey: It is working my marathon man, it is finally working. You better watch your back. I am all about the balance in some time.

He claps his hands and laughs out loud. He stops and then looks at the second coffin. He stretches his right leg, and caresses the coffin.

Abbey: Exactly it should be. You are harder than you were yesterday. Just like me. I like that.

He works his jaw more than he usually does. He lies on the couch and sighs, looking up at the

fan.

Abbey: I can't compete with you today my marathon man. But in a few days I will be there. I will achieve the balance. But I need people. I need people who love me. People who care for me for life for my own self more than their own self only then will this work right am I or not I don't know but have to see to check it and I think I am right so I better see and check.

Slow steps are audible. The steps are slow, heavy, pondering ones. Then a figure emerges from behind the door. The person is a lady. Well above 50 maybe, 60 possibly. She walks leaning forward, but her face is radiant and devoid of age. She is wearing a green coloured floral gown, with orange and purple flowers at random places strewn upon the fabric. She has tied up her grey hair in a bunch. Her skin is hanging loose over her hands and at her neck, but she looks completely alert. She comes into the room and smiles happily on seeing Abbey sitting. She can see the back of his head, but she is visibly glad. She walks over to Abbey, and turns to look at him. Abbey looks back. The lady is in tears as she looks at Abbey. She wails, hugging him abruptly and clumsily,

Mrs. Viogreen: Oh Abbey oh Abbey oh my dear dear dear Abbey!!! What have you done to yourself boy?! Oh Abbey.

Abbey: What?

Mrs. Viogreen: What what?

Abbey: What do you mean by what have you done to yourself? Why would I do anything to myself? I have time (whispers aside) unlike you. How are you now?

Mrs. Viogreen stares at Abbey. She is visibly offended. She nevertheless shakes her head and sits down with Abbey, and holds his hand. He is uncomfortable as she does so, and she is taken aback as she does so, and looks at Abbey in surprise.

Mrs. Viogreen: My my...your hands are as hard as a rock boy. What happened to you Abbey?

She observes the bluish, purplish, greyish marks on his face, and puts her hands over her

mouth, and speaks through them.

Mrs. Viogreen: Have you been in fights Abbey? Lots of them? You look like you ...mm well....--- been through a lot of fights boy What is this colour on your face?

Abbey shrugs.

Abbey: It will go away. Soon enough. Don't panic.

Mrs. Viogreen: Panic????? Panic???? Panic is the word??? Panic you say???

She suddenly looks vicious, and not the gentle, caring lady she looked when she entered.

Mrs. Viogreen: Young boy... You have some nerves telling that to me after eight years of us looking for you all over the country. Some nerve... Some nerves have you tried to contact or meet up all these years?

Abbey: If I would have, then I would have.

Mrs. Viogreen (with concern): You are not as talkative as you used to be.

Abbey: I am a lot of things I never used to be, and that suffices my needs. And now that I am so close to the revelation, I will be better things than I used to be.

Mrs. Viogreen looks at him and smiles, musing. She bends forward and kisses him on the cheek. Abbey does not move an inch, nor does his countenance. She then looks around, looks at the room.

Mrs. Viogreen: It is not how it used to be earlier. It has changed.

Abbey: Yes it has. Yes I have.

Mrs. Viogreen: I wouldn't know. You never let me come here before. I wonder why you had the need to call me up now boy, at the same place where you couldn't dare step all your

childhood.

Abbey: I was. Yes I was.

Mrs. Viogreen: Where is your brother boy?

Abbey: I knew you would be missing him. You will see him soon.

Mrs. Viogreen: I hoped he would make you see some sense and make you come back won't you?

Abbey: He wished.

Mrs. Viogreen: But this room has surely changed. What do you want from me sweetheart?

Abbey looks at her, wincing. He can hardly keep his eyes open now. His eyelids are as heavy as lead at the bottom of the ocean with a boulder tied to it. He moves his whole upper body towards her as he can't move his neck even a bit. He looks at his stiff hands and smiles.

Abbey: I want you to die for me.

Mrs. Viogreen (smiles): I could do that for you boy. You know that Abbey.

Abbey: Why do you think I am asking?

Mrs. Viogreen: I don't know, but whatever it is, I am here for you boy.

Abbey: Because I know you would do it.

Mrs. Viogreen looks at him incredulously. She makes a half-hearted attempt to smile, and half an attempt to sound angry.

Mrs. Viogreen: Now boy... Now boy... There is something we should talk about before we take such important decisions don't you think you are crazy?

Abbey smiles feebly. Mrs. Viogreen breathes easy on seeing him smile.

Abbey: I am doing this for me. I have to achieve the balance.

Mrs. Viogreen (suddenly flares up)): Are you still on that stupid doctor's path?? I thought you had enough sense not to waste all these years after what he told you. Is this all you have been after, all these years Abbey? That makes me so sick in the heart I don't know if I have one left for you do you Abbey?

Abbey stands up, straight. He goes to the coffin he just dragged in, and stands near it. Mrs. Viogreen keeps on looking at him.

Abbey: It will make sense. It will.

Mrs. Viogreen: It will, Abbey. Will it Abbey? Nine years it did not. How do you think now it will you come back with me boy?

Abbey: Too early to say. You have to die for me.

Mrs. Viogreen sighs.

Mrs. Viogreen: What if I am not ready to do what you plan to do with me anyway boy?

Abbey: How will I make you come alive if you do not die?

Mrs. Viogreen: Do not pay heed to the doctor Abbey boy. He is just dishing out filth to you have to balance your mind and not life.

Abbey suddenly looks at her, his eyes half open and red and his neck bluish purplish greyish and his palms contorted and his voice hoarse.

Abbey: Look at me. Look at me. Look at what I have done to myself. Don't you want to end it? End to end. You to me. Have to do. Have to die.

Mrs. Viogreen stands up in a huff. She walks clumsily over to Abbey and slaps him, and then winces, holding her hand.

Mrs. Viogreen: Mighty haughtiness you have acquired these years boy. The audacity to shout at me you have acquired these years boy. How do I die for you?

Abbey has tears in his partially open eyes. He bends forward, whole upper body, and kisses her on the cheek. She looks away, fuming. Abbey goes to the door, and calls her to come and stand with him, and points at the trail of water in the wall. The trail had widened, had increased in size, grown wider, and more ragged. It went up the wall, on the ceiling, and disappeared as it touched the fan. The fan creaked.

Abbey: Don't you want me to persist? Don't you want me to be strong enough to bear? Don't you want me to achieve balance? Then step into the coffin.

He goes over to the coffin, and opens it with his leg without looking down.

Mrs. Viogreen looks at Abbey. She is furious. She comes over to him and slaps him hard again.

Mrs. Viogreen: I thought it was just you who needed to do that. I was not a part of the other extreme. The day you were born, I thought that was it. You had parts of him in you, but that has not made him love you any less boy. He came here but now he is nowhere to be seen. We both waited for you both. We both cried for you both. Thirteen years and this is what we get in return. I had thought you will make me proud, and I had been absolved of all my duties. But you will be a burden, you are a burden, and you were a burden. You never considered me for a second. You always looked up to him and ignored me. What can I say now that you regret and I will not be able to forgive you for ever it has been the same agony, why should anything change now we still have time Abbey?

She then steps in the coffin and lies down. Abbey smiles and goes over to the window. He pulls down a curtain with his contorted, stiff hands, and coming over to the coffin, spreads it over Mrs. Viogreen. She adjusts her gown, and lets the curtain cover her entirely. Abbey sits

besides the coffin with difficulty, and says,

Abbey: Will you be proud of me once I am done?

Mrs. Viogreen: You are already done. I have nothing else to offer me a drink after I am dead. Make me drink it must be vintage wine. Feel proud of me after I am done waiting for you all these years. I am not sacrificing my life is worth more than yours will ever be. Shame your own self you let me die and you will decay tooYou will decay... You will decay after you close it now

Abbey stands up, and walks over to the other side of the coffin clumsily, and pushes the door close with his foot. He then sits down again, besides the coffin and smiles, caressing the wood.

Mrs. Viogreen's muffled voice can be heard, still talking..

Mrs. Viogreen: mmppfffmmenppp well mm meeenenennppkkfffttmemeemnnttg. Hhuuehrrhgrrdhdttttmmppfff FCC

Muffled, inaudible words are heard.

Abbey: I can hear you out here.

Mrs. Viogreen: iii cfennattbbrppth iii hhhfeffer...

Abbey tries hard to listen, then suddenly gets up and kicks the coffin, shouting wildly, kicking it continuously.

Abbey: DIIEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!

Silence. Abbey is panting for breath. He looks tired. He looks weird. He bends forward to listen for any sounds. No sound. He bends a bit more. Absolutely no sound. He climbs over the coffin. He cannot feel anything. He carefully sits down on the coffin. He moves one contorted palm over the surface. Then all of a sudden, he starts punching the wood.

Bang bangbangbang thud thudthud bang thud bang thud he goes on till his fingers bleed. All the time, his face is still. Neither anger, nor frustration. He looks straight, and there is a glazed look in his eyes, of however much was visible. Then he stops. A moment later, there is a loud wailing sound from inside the coffin.

Mrs. Viogreen: hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh........

Complete silence. Utter silence. Abbey smiles, and stands up. He goes over to the couch, and starts moving his hands on it, as if searching for something. He finally stands straight, with a pin in his hand. He goes near the coffin and drops the pin. A tiny clang is heard. He smiles again, an easier, a more relaxed smile. He looks up at the fan and winks. Then he slowly makes his way over to the switchboard. As he reaches, he turns over and looks at the third coffin. He has a smug look on his face.

Abbey: Sorry Mother. It is for life. It is for death. It is for me. You are neither of the three.

He switches off the lights. The room is engulfed in complete darkness. The room exudes utter silence.

SCENE THREE

Abbey enters the room, groaning. He looks almost unrecognizable. His face, his neck, and his hands have turned into a faint violet, greenish colour. His eyes are open fully, and he doesn't seem to have any difficulty with his jaw. He opens his mouth fully and easily and groans. His bare feet have a purple hue to them, and he seems to be walking surprisingly fast. He walks in a nimble manner, almost as if he can't control his body. He sways around, and his legs and hands flail about as if they are made of rubber. He bumps into the couch and falls on the fourth coffin, which is placed there from the beginning. He laughs and falls on the couch, from over the backrest. He looks happy. He looks at the fan, opens his mouth to say something and then deciding against it, shut it back.

Abbey: The kiss of death works. It does. I know it now.

He groans again. He is in obvious pain, and he seems to enjoy it. His groan fades away into laughter. He starts laughing hysterically.

Abbey: I did it, I did it.

He standsup; wiping the tears away from his eyes, and goes over to the coffins. He starts fidgeting with them, pulling them, and bringing them to the centre of the room, beneath the fan. He arranges three coffins diagonal to each other,with ample space in between where he stands after he is done. He looksup at the fan, and laughs hysterically.

Abbey: I am the fulcrum. I am the lever. I am the glue. I am the balance.

He stops abruptly. He strains his head towards the door. Slowly and gradually, tapping noises are heard. Abbey looks pale. Abbey looks nervous. Abbey looks disheartened. He steps out of the circle, and comesto the front.

Abbey: It does not fit. It just does not. This was not supposed to happen. I had it. Too good, too bad.Two good, two bad. What does it all mean if I am supposed to not see it till the end.What will it provide me? My life has fallen apart. What did I get after I gave it all? I gave

my sweat, my psyche, my blood, my body, my existence. I wrenched it all out. What now?

He looks up at the fan.

Abbey: When will you stop? Is it still about running? Persisting? Going on?Not tiring at all? I wrenched my insides and laid it on a platter and what then? I get served my own insides, rotten and decayed? Can't you not wait?For one more day? For a mere twenty hours? Is that too much to ask after all I have been through to see the experiment through?

The tapping sounds are now accompanied with scratching sounds. Abbey closes his ears and groans.

Abbey: make them stoooooooooooooooooooooooop!!!!!!!!!

The sounds cease in an instant.

Abbey slowly takes his hands off of his ears. He listens for sounds and then smiles on not hearing any.

Abbey: Not till I get fat. Not till I get huge. Not till I explode.

He stops and looks around.

Abbey: Well I think I haven't got the fourth body yet. No one is going to entertain me anymore. I have to get two of each, too of each, and I don't. Till when should I wait? Or should I?

He suddenly gets up and runs out of the room. He returns after a few moments, holding a huge mirror, almost as long as his own body. He set it against the back wall, besides the door. He then peers into the mirror, grinning at his distorted reflection. There are cracks on the mirror, the glass is dirty and greasy, with black faint spots and cobwebs all over. He slowly goes closer and closer till his nose touches the mirror.

Abbey: A work of beauty. A work of genius beauty.A work of heavenly beauty. And talking

about heaven, I bid farewell to the golden gate. It's not black gold. It's golden. And that gives me the jitters. Anything that shines and anything that sparkles does. Anything that smells of life, and of light. But here, look at this.

He caresses his reflection, the grotesque image that grins back at the person.

And then he speaks.

Abbey: Do you feel we can do it?

Abbey: We already have. We have three bodies. Too good, but not too bad. What to do? What do you suggest?

Abbey: I do not understand how people work, how humans work, how living things work. I have spent a lot of time musing, but it's all futile right or wrong is not right anymore in this hazy reflection anymore so you should take control Abbey and do it for yourself...

Abbey: yes yesyesyesyesyesyesyesyesyessssssssss...

He keeps shouting, and startspunching himself. His nose bleeds after three, and he observes it in the mirror. Abbey wipes the blood off the face, and smiles at Abbey.

Abbey: It's working Abbey. Itsworking, you should go on till the end

Abbey laughs and nods. He starts hitting his hand down on the floor till at the end he hears a cracking sound. His hand goes limp, contorted. He stands up, and goes to the wall and bangs his head at the concrete, dark green wall. The speed and the intensity of the action increase with each hit. As he turns back, his face is horror. His greenish blue skin is embellished with drips of red, and his forehead is a gory, gluey mess. His hair is no longer black. They are a mixture of black, the green from the colour of the wall, and red from his own blood. They gather around his forehead, sticking to the non-existent skin. His nose hangsabout on his face as he walks. He walks in a drunken manner to the couch, the right hand limp and lifeless hanging by the side, and he melts on the couch. He passes off.

After sometime, Abbey is still on the couch. Then he moves. He is in pain. He sits upright and faces the audience. He is the same as before, almost like a carcass. But he is huge. He has expanded. He has put on weight. His body has multiplied manifolds. He gets up with difficulty, and stands still. Abbey is no longer Abbey. He is three times Abbey. Every single body part has been blown up. He walks like a parade day balloon. His face is not recognizable anymore. His features have melted into a single chunk, and he no longer seems to function humanly. He walks clumsily, over to the fourth coffin. It is open. His head looks at it, and then, he lets himself go. His body crashes into the coffin, and the wood shivers under the impact. His body does not fit completely in the coffin, and the door closes with a creak. It shuts partially, revealing the body, and the chunk that is his head, from the sliver that remains unclosed.

The door of the first coffin opens up slowly. A hand in a black suit emerges gradually, holding the door. Then a man sits up. He has a French beard, fully white in colour. He has short cropped white hair. His nose is sharp, and eyes are deep. He looks intelligent. He wears a white shirt underneath the black suit, and his brooch shines green. The brooch is a raven; with black wings spread apart, the beak open in a screech. As the man stands up, his black pants are visible, with dust all over it. He stands up and brushes the dust off of his clothes. He is lean, almost fragile, but his grey eyes are inquisitive. He stands still for a few moments, as he observes the coffins, and the walls, and the curtains, and the couch. He slowly walks over to the half open coffin, and lifts the door with his outstretched right leg. He looks at the body with curiosity, and then smiles crookedly. He shuts the door, and walks over to the couch. He walks upright. His light brown suede shoes make no sound as he moves. He walks effortlessly, reaches the couch, and cringes looking at it. He takes out a handkerchief from the back pocket of his pants, and dusts the couch before he sits. He faces the audience, and sits with his legs crossed, his hands resting on his knees. His back does not touch the backrest of the couch, and he sits on the edge. Then he speaks in a deep voice, a gruff, husky voice.

Dr. Deecaz: Hello ladies and gentleman. I am Dr. Deecaz. I am the doctor.

He laughs out loud,in a deep, husky voice.

Dr. Deecaz: I am the master and the be- all. The end all, well, we will have to wait to find out isn't it, you beautiful people out there? Do you people want me to do something to entertain

you? Well I can't so I won't. That was Abbey's task, and I hope he did it well enough. Many of you won't agree with his sad end but then....life is unfair many times. It can't all be white all the time can it? Oh well of course it can. But I can't allow it so I won't. Black is good. It is good. Guess why? Because it has no trace of white. That is why. Do not think too much, my friends. Look at me. Am I not better looking than that drab looking, filthy Abbey? Well of course I am. But I asked you people to make you feel good about yourself. Do I need your appreciation? I would like it. But I do not need it, so I don't care. What do you people know about balance? What do you people know about love? About sacrifice? About breath? About passion?About persistence?About manipulation?About faith? About not being boring? It has been half an hour you people sat with your fat asses on to those leather seats and no one ever tried to do something else then gape at what is being dished out to you in spite of you not understanding a word of it eh? Mighty brave thinkers we have here Abbey

He looks at Abbey's coffin with disgust.

Dr. Deecaz: Anyway Here I am. Here you are. Here we are. Do we need to be? I don't think so, but we are. Why? I don't know, but still here we are. It's because if what Abbey kept saying. Balance. We need you. You need us. We have to balance each other right? We need each other. So here we are.Symbiotic. I liked Abbey. What are you people going to do about it?

The second coffin trembles. It starts shaking violently. Dr. Deecaz shifts his gaze from the audience to the coffin and gapes at the moving coffin with horror...The coffin door slams open. A breathless Stephen gasps as his upper body shoots out of the coffin. He sits upright, catching his breath. He is wet, covered with a sticky, spidery liquid. Strands of it stretch over his neck, jaw, and armpits as he breathes heavily and looks around jerkily.

Stephen (breathless, looking at Dr. Deecaz with horror stricken eyes): What are you doing here???

Dr. Deecaz looks at him with contempt, mixed with surprise. Dr. Deccaz: Eh?? Perfect isnt it? Someone suddenly gets out from a coffin, all gooey and mucky, and starts stealing my words... Do you remember anything? Anything at all?

Stephen: I know who you are, you rat (All the while he struggles with the strands that bind him to the coffin, trying to get up) you are the one who set me up to all this.

Dr. Deecaz smiles confusingly. He turns towards Stephen fully now.

Dr. Deecaz: Well that is news for me, gentleman. Having met you for the first time, it would have been a bit difficult for me to set you up to anything. Unless you have left something of yours at my place, I cannot control you. I hope Abbey told that to you. Stephen steers clear of the strands and gets up, never taking his gaze away from Dr. Deecazs face. He walks up to him, with a sinister look on his face, and as he reaches, he punches Dr. Deecaz on his face. Dr. Deecaz remains still, and the punch has no effect at all. As he gapes at Stephen, a black jelly like substance oozes out of his nose. His expression is the one between amusement and surprise, and he keeps on staring at Stephen with the black gelatinous substance dripping down his chin as Stephen says,

Stephen: I am back, you rat. No more of your balance now.

SCENE FOUR

Dr. Deecaz is seen sitting on the couch, all curled up. He is holding his legs to his chest, and shivering as Stephen roams around in the room, with his hands behind his back. Time and again, Stephen stops in front of Dr. Deecaz and smiles, and the latter cringes. This goes on for a while before Stephen breaks the silence and speaks, walking all the while, Stephen: For a doctor, you dont doctor that well. You should be precise in what you do. An inch here or an inch there might severe something very important which you could never take back. You are over confident for one. Two, you are arrogant. Three, you are a doctor. Four, you chose me as your pawn. Five, you didnt notice these five mistakes. Six, you tried to fool me, which is against the fourth and the fifth mistake. And so here you are, all shaken up. Does it suit someone of your demeanour to be cringing and shivering due to some person with a demeanour like mine?

Dr. Deecaz keeps on looking at him. He opens his mouth slowly, visibly afraid to speak.

Dr. Deecaz: How did you do it? You have to tell me.

Stephen stands still, and smiles condescendingly. Stephen: I would have thought words like you have to should be out of your vocabulary by now. But I was wrong again. As usual, you are an exception Doctor. But now you need to listen to me very, very carefully.

Stephen comes close to Dr. Deecaz and sits upright in front of him, on the floor. Stephen: The moment I hear a single tweak from you that has the slightest hint of I, the moment you acknowledge the fact that you exist and that anyone here is liable to acknowledge your acknowledgement of your own self, I will kill you at the next moment. Have I made myself very clear Doctor?

Dr. Deecaz looks at him meekly. His lower lip trembles slightly. He parts his lips and utters a faint Yes I do, to which Stephen flares up, and jumps up on the couch beside him. He shouts in a rage,

Stephen: Do you understand me or not???

Dr. Deecaz remains unmoved, but he starts shivering more. He looks up at Stephen and says,

Dr. Deecaz: I understand you Abbey.

Stephen: What did you just say??

He slowly moves towards the doctor and sits in front of him, his eyes burning red. He speaks in a slow, deliberate, yet stony voice.

Stephen: Repeat.

Dr. Deecaz looks at him, straight in the eye, but speaks in a soft, subdued manner.

Dr. Deecaz: I said, I understand you. Stephen: I said I dont want an I from you, didnt I?

Dr. Deecaz: Understood.

Stephen: You better do. You bloody better do. I have had it till here of your egotistic chattering. (Gestures with his hand up to his forehead) You destroyed me with your false claims, which somehow you made come true How did you do that? Tell me how.

Dr. Deecaz shrunk back in his corner even more. He kept on looking at Stephen and said,

Dr. Deecaz: I knew it all along. Everything that has happened with you, everything you did. It was written by me. But this last event has shaken my belief in myself. It was not written. It was not supposed to happen this way. It should have been different. You were not supposed

to know. You were not supposed to be. How are you here again? You shouldnt have been here. Paradise Island should have been destroyed by now. I made sure of it. It was what was written.

Suddenly, Stephen punches him on the face. Dr. Deecaz remains unmoved, but the black gelatinous substance keeps oozing out of his nose. Stephen: You have too many Is remaining in you. No articles. Not that article at least. Am I clear? Is I unclear?

Dr. Deecaz: Yes it is.

Stephen smoothens his hair, and says,

Stephen: Go on then.

Dr. Deecaz wipes his nose, and speaks.

Dr. Deecaz: Never thought Abbey would be so strong. Always thought he would adhere to all said. But he did not adhere to something said. He was told to take two good two bad. Too good and too bad. But he misunderstood the meaning. What meant was, two males and two females. But he did not. He was weak. He had feelings left in him, which hate to the core. It hinders. It distracts. It obstructs. It weakens. But he turned out to be really strong. He knew how to control his life force. He never told that to. That was something which was above... Can control death, but not life. So that is..

Stephen stops him abruptly.

Stephen: What control of death are you talking about? I bet you never told any of that to Abbey.

He looks at the doctor from his peripheral vision. The doctor looks at him bluntly, in a fixed gaze. Dr. Deecaz has a mild smile on his face, which he manages to hide quickly before Stephen looks at him and senses that he knows.

Dr. Deecaz: Guess he knew. Never told him, but think he knew. After what have come to know now, as to how secretive and how strong he was, there is no doubt in mind that he knew. Why else would he send you?

Stephen does not say a word. The doctor has his gaze fixed on Stephen, hunting for reactions. He sees Stephens jaw twitching. He smiles mildly. Stephen stands up, and goes over to the water trail. Stephen: There is something important here, which I dont think you have noticed, have you, you rat?

The doctor looks over meekly to where Stephen is standing. Stephen is pointing at the water trail, and looking at it with admiration. The doctor winces his eyes, and looks at the dark patch of water on the wall. He looks questioningly at Stephen. Stephen points up. The doctor follows his finger, and follows the trail up to the fan. The fan creaks with fury now. He keeps on looking at the fan, trying to understand what was important, and Stephen looked at him with amusement. The doctor gives up and looks at Stephen, and he looks scared as he sees Stephen smiling at him.

Dr. Deecaz: What is there for in this?

Stephen: Everything that you would want to know is here, right here. You are just so amazingly dumb for a doctor. I do not understand who gave you the right to admonish people when you yourself are extremely stupid?

Dr. Deecaz looks at him with awe, and then slowly gets up. He casts a look at Stephen to see if he reacts to him getting up, and then moves forward noticing Stephen is standing still. As he walks, a drop of water falls on his head. He screams.

Dr. Deecaz: Mother of Evil!! It burns. This thing burns. What is it??? What is it??

He furiously rubs his head, looking bewildered and in pain at Stephen. Stephen looks excited. Stephen looks at the fan and winks.

Stephen: That is my marathon man. Punishes the ones who deserve it, and never holds back.

Dr. Deecaz is in pain. He looks up, and shrinks back to the couch. He keeps rubbing his head vigorously, and shouts out

Dr. Deecaz: What are you Abbey? What do you want from me?

Stephen looks at him, his smile waning to a frown.

Stephen: What did you say? Dr. Deecaz: Said what do you want from what are you?

Stephen looks at him narrow eyed. He walks over to the doctor, stepping over the puddle of water on the floor, which flows from the wall, and trickles slowly towards the third coffin. It has already reached the coffin from which Stephen himself has come out, and crossing it, it now moves towards the third coffin in which lies Mrs. Viogreen. Stephen walks over to the couch, and sits on it. He looks at the doctor, who has once again curled to his corner on the couch, with one hand on his head.

Stephen: Wait you rat. Wait.

The lights go dim as Stephen looks ahead pensively, and the doctor looks at him, afraid. As the room darkens, a door opens. A gasping sound is heard. And then THE VOICE IS HEARD.

Mrs. Viogreen: Holy hell boy! Mighty mess you have made boy. Untieemeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

SCENE FIVE

The doctor is huddled in a corner of the room, the left one. He sits there, visibly scared. His eyes never move from the couple sitting on the couch, both of whom are laughing and joking. Mrs. Viogreen keeps on touching Stephen on the cheek repeatedly, and looks at him with motherly affection. Time and again, Stephen turns back and looks at the doctor, and then turns back towards Mrs. Viogreen, and both have a good laugh. She, at times, steals a glance or two towards the doctor and the doctor tries a nervous smile. She does not respond, but stares, and looks away the next moment. This situation goes on for some time after which Stephen gets up, nods at her who nods back in approval, and goes over to the doctor menacingly. Dr. Deecaz cringes back. Dr. Deecaz: No. promise wouldnt ever think of doing what did. Please, you seem to be a nice man. Nice boy. Please. (Looks at Mrs. Viogreen and pleads) Please Karen, I beg you to stop him, whoever he is. He seems to adore you. Please tell him, he will understand. I give you my word. No more horsing around. It is my word.

Mrs. Viogreen laughs heartily. When she stops, she looks at the doctor with a hateful smile on her face. Mrs. Viogreen: And what was that you always said, dear? My word be done. Isnt that what you used to say?Here boy, did I not tell you all about him? (Looking at Stephen with affection) I know you want to hurt him. I know how you feel about him. But we shall wait till the coming my son. He needs to get what he deserves, and no less than that shall we dish out ha boy! Get him right here, we shall see what is required at the moment. Show the required mercy boy, no more.

Stephen: This bag of bones needs to be rattled well, only then will the God Almighty hear and strike him. (Looks at the doctor and grimaces) Look at you, you old hag. I wish to inflict a lot of pain on you right now, but I will have to wait till my brother comes. He needs to know the truth, and you will tell him before we kill you. Will you or will you not?

Dr. Deecaz looks at Stephen. Confused.

Dr. Deecaz: What truth? Who brother? Who are you? Karen, who is he? And why are you letting him do this to me? (His voice grows increasingly shrill with each word)

Mrs. Viogreen: Good lord! Mighty persistent you are Dirk. I know what you have done to Abbey. I know what you wanted him to do. I have seen it with my own eyes. My boy has seen it with his own eyes. Dont you act innocent now that you are out in the open. He knows you are the Devil.

Dr. Deecaz: What the hell are you talking about??

Mrs. Viogreen: In the name of heavens, give up now, will you??

Stephen: What on earth is going on here?

Dr. Deecaz: Devil? Me? Stephen, you would be dead by now if were, had all the chances in the whole wide world to kill you. Why would let you torment me this way if had the sort of power that this lady is accusing of? And why do you believe her blindly? Cant you judge? Just an old, weary man, that is all.

Stephen looks at him with doubt. He then turns and stares at her. Mrs. Viogreen is fuming with anger.

Mrs. Viogreen: After all that we have been through boy, you look at me with suspicion, just after twenty minutes with this maniac?? Did I not tell you about him earlier?? This is all he does. He plays with your mind. That is who he is, that is where his strength lies. Dont let him play with you boy.

Dr. Deecaz tries getting up. Stephen turns and looks at him with anger. He pushes Dr. Deecaz down again, and kicks him in the stomach. The doctor mumbles in pain. He sits up, holding his stomach, and looking at Mrs. Viogreen with disdain. She smiles back at him. Stephen glowers over the doctor, in a threatening pose. He is fuming, breathing hard and deep.

Stephen: Try some more stunts. I am waiting. Please try.

Dr. Deecaz (smiling feebly): Son, whoever you are

Stephen stops him midway. He sits down and comes to eye level with him and stares at him. He leans towards him and hisses,

Stephen: That is the most dangerous stunt you tried. I am not your son. Do not call me your son. That relationship is what you shouldnt speak of. You shouldnt have anything to do with being a father. You shouldnt have had a son. You shouldnt have had any sons. You shouldnt have been married. You shouldnt have been born in the first place. So do not dare. Or rather do dare again. I will chop your tongue right off your mouth, and shove it down your throat. It will be a sort of poetic justice though. The egotistic doctor dies a dumb death. The doctor who spent his time being the charismatic manipulator dies a gruesome death. The one who played with words had his tongue chopped. Try that one more time...

Mrs. Viogreen looks at the duo in the corner. She exclaims,

Mrs. Viogreen: That is my boy. That will teach you to play more games with us Dirk. You cannot fool all of us. We see through you, do you see?Not unlike people.

Dr. Deecaz smiled with effort. He looked at Mrs. Viogreen with a resigned look.

Dr. Deecaz: So I see you have been talking about personal things with this chap here eh? I wouldnt have done that if in your place. Well, I wouldnt have done a lot of things in your place. I wouldnt have been stupid enough to get pregnant. I wouldnt have admonished my husband and his experiments.

Mrs. Viogreen: Experiments?? Trying to kill his own child is an experiment for this man boy?? Hear him, hear him as he says. Trying to hold his wife down with a pillow on her face as she slept, and counting seconds out loud, in order to see how long does a pregnant woman take to stop breathing is an experiment to him?? Leaving a woman on her own to starve, in a miserable condition, is an experiment for him boy?? Dr. Deecaz screamed out

Dr. Deecaz: Why the hell are you telling him?? Who is he?? (Looking up at Stephen, and lowering his voice) Who are you??

Stephen growled in a low voice. Stephen: Does that matter? I dont think so. What matters is that you have done wrong, and you deserve to die. Consider me as the guardian angel, you rat. And for you, consider me your personal grim reaper.

Dr. Deecaz: A fine example you are, of how your generation has no mind of its own, but just treads along the path shown by others. Any path you choose son, will lead you to destruction. The only choice you have is delayed destruction, or instant annihilation. Be smart son. Dont follow the lady. You know you dont want to... Stephen (angrily): You dont need to tell me what to do, you rat. I know who you are, and what you did to my brother.

Dr. Deecaz: Not telling you what to do. Asking you to weigh the pros and the cons of the decision you make at this point. Its her. It is the witch.

Stephen kicks him hard. The doctor grunts.

Stephen: Not a wise thing to say.

Dr. Deecaz (panting for breath, clutching his stomach): You seem like a smart boy. Look at her and then look here. Who looks smarter?

Stephen looks at Mrs. Viogreen, who keenly looks at them. Stephen looks back at the doctor. Stephen: I dont know about smart, but it is definitely you who looks worse, miserable, and downtrodden.

Dr. Deecaz ((smiling feebly): And still it is the miserable man who talks sense. Not the good looking woman who barks orders at you eh?

Stephen stares at him. The doctor shrugs his shoulders and continues,

Dr.Deecaz: Who is telling you what to do? Who has been leading you all along? On whose orders are you beating me up and on whose orders do you stop thrashing me? Look at yourself young man, you dont need this. You have a mind of your own, which you can certainly put to use whenever and wherever you want, when and where you yourself want.

Stephen is fuming. His shirt is in disarray, un-tucked from the front and partially tucked in from the back. His sleeves were pulled back up to his elbows. His hair is no longer in a recognisable pattern. He moves around like a volcano ready to explode. He suddenly looks up at the fan, and yells out an inhuman scream.

Stephen: Why are you doing this to me??? I was happy the way I was. Why would you have to call me here to deal with these crappy people??

Mrs. Viogreen is looking up at him from the couch, visibly offended. Mrs. Viogreen: Oh boy! Now that isnt quite right is it boy? You mention us like we are insects. What about all the love I gave you all these years? You will waive all that affection just because of this old hag here?? Now that is unfair my boy. That is unfair to a lady who had nothing but love to offer to you all along.

Dr. Deecaz: She was not loving you young man, but training you. There is a difference, a very prominent difference.

Stephen runs over and kicks the doctor hard.

Stephen: she did to me what you did to Abbey, you piece of shit. You are no one to patronise.

The doctor smiles at him, as he winces. Dr. Deecaz: But he did what he wanted.Wasnt there to bark orders at him. He was a thinker. Unlike you are. And I shouldnt think you should be talking about my son like you know him.

Stephens eyes take a dark hue. He bends over and hisses,

Stephen: Your son can go and have a nice snooze over the rotten garden. I am here for my brother.

Dr. Deecaz looks at him with a stunned expression. He looks over at Mrs. Viogreen with a questioning look. She nods her head vehemently and looks at Stephen with affection. Dr. Deecaz composes himself and takes a deep breath.

Dr. Deecaz: So her it is. She has been feeding lies to you too, eh? Should have expected that. But wouldnt expect a bright boy like you to be spoon-fed all the crap on the earth and to see that you gobble it up as well.

Stephen looks confused. Mrs. Viogreen is silent, but her eyes spell murder as she looks at the doctor. Stephen stands on his place, not moving an inch. The room is silent, except for the creaking of the fan, which has slowed down now. Suddenly, water starts dripping from the ceiling. The trail, from the ceiling to the side wall, leaks and drips. Mrs. Viogreen starts crying. Dr. Deecaz looks up, his face contorted. Stephen stands still. Then the fourth coffin starts trembling. The trio does not look at it. The coffin door slams open, and Abbey sits upright. He looks fresh, totally normal, and healthy. There are no signs of the bloody torture he went through before he fell in the coffin. He is wearing the same clothes, but the black jacket is no more torn from the shoulder. The white tee inside is clean, and one can read the words MACK IN THE IDDL on them written in black, the others hidden by the jacket. He straightens his hair and looks around. He looks at the people in the room, and then looks up. He sees the dripping water, and smiles. He winks at the fan. The dripping stops the next moment. Abbey gets up and climbs out of the coffin. He walks over to the door, and squats by the mirror.

Stephen: What on earth was that?

Mrs. Viogreen: What in the name of heavens is in this room?

Dr. Deecaz: Ow hell!

Stephen and Mrs. Viogreen speak together: What?

Dr. Deecaz: I think I am going to puke. And then he does. Black, sticky mulch blows out of his mouth in bucketfuls, and Stephen and Mrs. Viogreen run back to the other corner of the room with screeches of disgust. Abbey looks on.

Abbey: I should have known you were leading me on.

Stephen: Is he the one who has been leading Abbey on? He does not seem to be the kind of man who can control Abbey. He seems weak, and not in a good state, physically.

Mrs. Viogreen: That is Dirk for you. There was a reason people called him the man with the black tongue.

Abbey: I am disheartened.

Stephen and Karen look at the mess created by the doctor. The doctor lies on the floor, weak yet smiling, looking up at the fan.

Dr. Deecaz: I knew it you maggot. I knew you were leading me on.

Abbey: Damn right.

SCENE SIX

Still lying on the floor, Dr.Deecaz anxiously looks at Stephen and Karen. Mrs.Viogreen smirks at him, and then beckons Stephen. Stephen nods, looks at the doctor with condescension, and both walk over to the couch and sit down. She looks at him with affection, and grazes her hand on his cheek, and leaning forward, kisses him on the cheek. Stephen smiles back, and then lies on the couch with his head in her lap. She keeps on stroking his head lightly, as if lulling him to sleep. The doctor remains huddled in the corner, looking at the two people with increasing alarm. Abbey sits at the same place and watches. Mrs.Viogreen looks at Dirk. She adjusts Stephens head on the couch, and gets up cautiously. The doctor hesitantly smiles at her, as she walks over to him. She keeps on looking over her back to Stephen, who seems sound asleep. Mrs.Viogreen sits in front of Dr.Deecaz. She looks at him and speaks in a low voice,

Mrs.Viogreen: How have you been my love? I have missed you so much these years.

Dr.Deecaz breathes heavily. He gets up. His stomach still hurts. He leans forward and kisses Mrs.Viogreen. She responds. They hug each other. Mrs.Viogreen separates herself from the doctor, and looks back at Stephen. The doctor comforts her, Dr.Deecaz: Dont worry Karen. He will not wake up for a long time. I want you to be with me, without worrying about anything else. After all these years of separation, this is what we have lived on for eh? I want you to give me your entire attention. I do not want any distractions. I do not want you to get distracted. I want you to keep looking at me, and feel me with you. Feel this moment.

Karen: My nose itches.

Dr.Deecaz: Eh?

Karen: My nose itches, Dirk.

Dirk: Oh lovely, come here.

Karen bends forward. Dirk catches her nose between the thumb and the second finger of his right hand. He smiles at Karen, and then with a jerk, he pulls her nose. She lets out a small shriek and tumbles face forward. Dirk smiles as he watches her get up. She gets up and her nose is bloody. She has a cut lower lip, which bleeds. The two streams of blood, from the left side of her lower lip, and her right nostril, stream down her chin. She smiles and winces.

Dirk: There you are love. Feeling good now?

Karen: Yes dear, you always know how to make me feel good.

Dirk laughs looking at her. Karen smiles with curiosity.

Karen: What is it?

Dirk: You know it looks like you have a beard. A red one.

Karen: Ohh does it? Which sort of beard? A French beard?

Dirk: Yes yes.

Karen: Like you always wanted then dear.

Karen laughs. Dirk laughs. Both abruptly stop and look at the couch, where Stephen is sound asleep.

Karen looks at Dirk and giggles.

Karen: He is out for sure.

Dirk: Yes he is.

Karen: Ohh how long have I waited for these moments dear... It was a torture without you.

Dirk (holding her hand): I know my sweetheart. It has been so long. I didnt think I would ever see you again. Karen: But I knew. I knew you wouldnt let us be far from each other for long. Those experiments of yours, I always believed in them. I knew they would succeed. And here we are, celebrating our reunion. And how better can it get? One son in the coffin, and the other oblivious to the fact that he too, will soon be dead! It is just perfect, the way we dreamt it would be.

Dirk: Yes my lovely, just the way it was meant to be.

Karen: The way we had planned.

Dirk: The way I had planned.

Karen: Now we can live our lives easily. Without worrying about our lives, about all those expenses, those trivial tensions, those nights we couldnt sleep or make love to each other. Everything would be easy now. Wont it dear?

Dirk: What happened to my Caddy? Is it still intact, or one of these dimwits crashed the guts out of it?

Karen (with a smile): They would most certainly have, had I not hid it in our farmhouse at Closet Farms. It is still there, waiting for its rightful owner to rev it up once again.

Dirk: Oh dear, that is so sweet of you. What would I do without you? (Hugs her)

Karen winks at him.

Karen: Whatever that you did all these years without me.

Dirk laughs.

Dirk: I would prefer not being in that state again.

Karen: Neither would I. Now that we are together, nothing will take us apart.

They sit, hugging each other. The room is silent, except for the creaking of the fan, which has slowed down now. They kiss each other. At the same time, Stephen moves, and yawns loudly. Mrs.Viogreen gets up hastily and runs over to the couch. She sits down besides Stephen. He opens his eyes and looks at Mrs.Viogreen, and he is startled. He gets up with a jerk and stumbles away from the couch. Mrs.Viogreen is surprised at his reaction.

Mrs.Viogreen: What is wrong boy? Did I do something wrong dear?

Stephen (confused): For a moment there I thought you were Abbey. Mrs.Viogreens face turns pale. She looks over to the doctor. Dirk looks confused too. He looks up at the fan. All three remain in the same position for a minute, and Abbey looks over towards them with no expression whatsoever. Stephen looks at the doctor looking up at the fan, and does so himself. Mrs.Viogreen, terror stricken, does so too. The fan has stopped moving. The room is dead silent. Abbey looks up at the fan with tears in his eyes, and extends his hand towards it. He silently retracts it and then gets up. He looks at the three people in the room with a sad face,

Abbey: I am not needed now.I never was.

Then, he walks out of the room slowly.

Stephen, Dirk, Dr.Deecaz, Karen, and Mrs.Viogreen stand still. They keep on looking at the fan, which starts dripping water now. The entire ceiling gradually starts dripping and leaking. The three exchange glances. Dr.Deecaz, lying on the floor smiles feebly.

Dr.Deecaz: My son has me outdone.

Stephen: My brother can be equalled by none other.

Mrs.Viogreen: I wish I had a daughter.

The lights slowly go off, and as the room goes dark, the sound of the dripping water grows louder and louder.