Читать книгу: «Never»

Main Characters:

Olga (Olya, Olechka, Olen'ka – possible name variations)– A forty-two year old tall and very attractive woman with the beautiful hair.

Artem – A fifty year old handsome man in a great physical shape. He is very energetic.

Their daughter —A sixteen year old tall and beautiful. She looks rather twenty than sixteen.

Oleg, Leonid (Lenya) and Lida – Olga's friends.

Scene description:

The drop-curtain is not up. A tall, elegant and good-looking man of the age of fifty or so enters the stage. He seems to be lost and depressed. He tries to keep up the appearance without much of a success, however.

ARTEM: I would like to tell you a story of an evening… Just one… That evening irreversibly destroyed my life. It's terribly simple and hopeless now… I am in my fifties and I don't know how to live the rest of my life. (He is leaving the stand).

ACT 1.

Scene description:

The curtain is up. The stage is a very modestly decorated and furnished room. Olga, Lida, Oleg and Leonid enter the room. Olga turns on the light.

OLGA: Come in guys… have a sit… tea anyone?

OLEG: It's okay Olya, no need to fuss… You are amazing Olen'ka! Simply amazing!

LIDA: (to Oleg) what are you talking about?

OLEG: (replies) about the theater. We are always busy. If Olga did not organize us I don't know when else we would make time for it.

LEONID: The play was good but not very optimistic.

OLEG: Hey, that's like in the real life. I mean, there are not too many things around making you optimistic and upbeat, am there?

LIDA: I really liked the actress that played the main role. In my opinion she is very talented and intelligent, not every actress can pull off such a fine role.

OLGA: I see there are no regrets about me pulling you out of your houses and away from Ns for a change.

OLEG, LEONID and LIDA: (in unison) what are you talking about! Of course not! It was treating! Thanks a lot!

OLGA: (talking to Lida) Lida, Tell me… As a woman didn't you feel disappointed to hear one more time that the greatest love comes at the greatest price?

LEONID: (hopelessly in-love with Olga) It is strange isn't it? Love is the strongest human seeling yet brings so much suffering. However, it seems that suffering is not enough and to top it off the reckoning day is to follow.

LIDA: Life is full of pessimism as is and the theater plays don't seem to let you forget about hat.

OLEG: Well… You know what they say that theater is just a reflection. If you don't like it than you might want to consider a sci-fi movie instead.

LIDA: Let's not to run to extremes.

OLGA: Guys, what do you think about doing it again next week?

LEONID: What's today's date?

LIDA: It is the twenty third.

LEONID: It means on the thirtieth. How about if we decide tomorrow?

OLGA: Well… tomorrow it is. (She turns to Lida and changes the subject). Artem turned fifty yesterday.

LIDA: For God's sake Olga… You are smart realistic and down-to-earth person. Where is that incomprehensible romanticism coming from? He (about Artem) is not in your life any longer and has not been a part of it for what… seventeen years or so?

OLGA: We do have a daughter. Remember?

LIDA: You do understand that she is only yours and has nothing to do with him.

OLGA: I understand. I've been understanding it for quite some time now. It does not change anything anyway. Kids are not born without men.

(Oleg and Leonid quietly hopping TV channels without paying much attention to the woman's talk.)

LIDA: (Decided not to continue the conversation. Asking the men.) Guys, let's go. We all have to work tomorrow.

LEONID: How about some tea?

LIDA: It's late.

OLGA: Okay, I'll talk to you tomorrow guys. Think about the next week. (The phone rings. Olga picks it up.) Hello! (Silence). I can't hear you (Silence). I'm sorry I can't hear you. Can you call again please? (Hangs up the phone).

LIDA: Wrong number?

OLGA: I don't know… Perhaps.

(The phone rings again).

OLGA: (Picks up) Hello! (No answer again).

(Olga walks her friends to the door).

(Olga is coming back to the room. She picks up the phone and calls.)

Hello. Good evening… Are you still hanging out? Svetik, tell my beautiful daughter that I am home already. (Pause… Olga hears that the message is being delivered). Okay, don't stay too late guys, keep watching the movie I won't interrupt any more. Can you ask her to call me later, please?

(She takes out of the purse the theater's program and starts reading).

(The phone rings again. Olga picks it up again.)

Hello! (Silence). I don't hear you (Silence). ARTEMs voice in the receiver: Hello!

OLGA: (Surprised… reluctant to believe her guess) I'm listening…

ARTEM: Hello…(Silence)

ARTEM: Hello! (silence)

OLGA: (overwhelmed). Artem? (pause) You? (pause). Oh my God. Hello!

(Long silence)

ARTEM: Olya (silence)?

ARTEM: Olya?

OLGA: You?! (Long pause)… You?! (Pause)

Olya. It's me. Can you hear me?

OLGA: (pause) yes.

ARTEM: Are you busy? (Pause) Can we talk?

OLGA: I'm listening (hesitant).

ARTEM: (sensing hesitation) should I call tomorrow?

OLGA: (regrouped) its okay. We can talk. I am listening.

ARTEM: (apparently he is caught off guard) It's late. You are probably tired. Are you sure it's Lot to late?

OLGA: It is late but never mind. I can talk.

ARTEM: Do you really want to hear me?

OLGA: (pause) yes.

ARTEM: Do you want to see me too?

OLGA: Yes.

ARTEM: I haven't seen you for so long.

OLGA: Me too.

ARTEM: I want to imagine how you look now…

OLGA: Let me guess… You can't.

ARTEM: It's not that. It's not about the physical appearance. It's about the feelings.

OLGA: How is that?

ARTEM: It's simple. The feelings don't go away, they hide deep and mask but don't disappear.

OLGA: Interesting.

ARTEM: I just realized… it happens because they want to preserve themselves from our ational selves.

OLGA: I can "see" you well though.

(The screen is being pulled down in the background).

On the screen: The almost empty street of the city at night and the lonely payphone booth on the corner.

(The camera zooms on Artem a booth. He listens).

OLGA: You are on the quiet street. You can speak easy. There are almost no people. You can begin the dialog that sounds more like a monolog.

ARTEM: You are right. Payphones give you the illusion of independence but at the price of real loneliness. Olya… Invite me please, would you?

OLGA: (caught off guard) Now?

ARTEM: Yes

OLGA: Okay… (Pause) You are invited…

ARTEM: I am coming.

(Olya starts dashing around the room trying to organize things around and her own thoughts. She turns on the TV and unlocks the entrance door.)

(She hears the doorbell).

OLGA: (She turns to the door and speaks loud) Come in its open.

(Artem enters the stage with the bouquet of flowers and a cake. He beams with confidence. He is sure that he is a welcome guest).

ARTEM: Well… Hi…

OLGA: Hi again… Have a sit (subtle irony in her voice). Long times don’t see… and… Here you are.

(Artem comes to the table and opens up the box with the cake.)

ARTEM: (presumptuous and flirtatious tone of voice. He got used to be welcome. In his mind it cannot be otherwise). Madam, do you have a vase for the flowers and the tea. Tea is great it brings people closer.

ARTEM: What do you think is a trade-off?

OLGA: I am not sure – inner peace – for instance. It's easier to understand suffering if you suffer yourself. Remember Nietzsche, – "Only those who are poor handing-out to beggars". (Pause) We get wiser – Artem, and sadder unfortunately. I think wisdom is a skill. It is a skill of respect to the feelings and thoughts of others… to their work.

(Phone rings)

OLGA: (Picks up the phone). I am listening. What happened? You breathe heavily. Why? (Pause). Did you call because of that? (Pause). It is his problem. (Pause). No, I have nothing to do with that. (Pause).Everyone should take care of the problems individually. (Pause). No, I am not sleeping yet. I have a guest (Pause). Let's get back to our conversation. Why do you breathe so heavily? Okay I'll be there in a minute to check your blood pressure. No you don't know but you did hear about him. (Pause)… Artem is my guest. Yes… yes… mom. Thank you, I am old enough to know. (Pause). Mom, a little sensitivity, pleases. I am coming.

ARTEM: Do you talk to your mom every night?

OLGA: Yes.

ARTEM: Do you have a hard time talking to her?

OLGA: No, but sometimes she lacks of smarts and the sensitivity.

ARTEM: Don't you think, you are a little too demanding?

OLGA: No, I love my mom and I listen to her advises. However, I do not appreciate her intruding without my permission even though I am her child and she feels like she has a right to do so. Do you mind waiting for me? I'll be back in about ten minutes.

ARTEM: Can I smoke here?

OLGA: Yes, you can. (Olga leaves).

ACT 2

(The same room)

OLGA: (Came back) It did not take me too long, did it? ,

ARTEM: (Smokes a cigarette. It seems that he think out loud rather than talking to Olga). No it did not. Long time ago I heard a slightly rephrased common saying from one elderly lady – "It's good that the youth does not know that the oldsters are unable to can." That time I did not get it… (Pause) and what now… I feel fairly young yet life slowly squeezes me out of the "market".

OLGA: Artem, you are like a woman on the fiftieth birthday – bewildered and full of disappointments. Stop it. Look at yourself. You are good-looking, in the great shape and very attractive. Your interest would be flattering for any woman whether she is one of your age or

much younger. Trust me, I am not trying to complement you. It's true.

ARTEM: It's flattering.

OLGA: It isn't just a compliment. It's the objective observation. You were a very attractive young man who became a very attractive mature man.

ARTEM: To hear something like this from you…

OLGA: Please understand that I was referring to you physical appearance.

ARTEM: A woman's beauty multiplied by her brains is a constant. I mean either… or. I remember that besides your beauty I was impressed with how keenly you wanted to be a poet.

OLGA: I am still working on it… for myself… I need it. Poetry is my shelter. I don't think others are interested in me exposing my soul. Poetry cannot come from one's mind. Inspiration comes from the heart.

ARTEM: Do you remember?

How difficult it is to write a verse

How challenging to put it all on paper

OLGA: (picks up where he left)

It's like my old sins

Would like to embrace me

ARTEM:

They attract and pull me

They ask for solitude

OLGA:

They leaves are loud in my soul

Conceiving and delivering new doubts

They are about life and love

They are about separation years gone,

They are about us again

Exploding rhymed vocalization

ARTEM:

How difficult it is to write a verse

Bringing so much of a confusion

OLGA:

It's like my old sins suddenly alienate me.

(Long silence)

OLGA: When I was writing that I was a sinner but not in a way that brought me to my today's life.

ARTEM: Oh my god, what are you talking about. What kind of sins could you possibly have then?

OLGA: You

ARTEM: Me?!

OLGA: Yes

ARTEM: I felt that you see are relationship as a sin. I felt you reproaching yourself with it. (He comes very close to Olya. He is very sensitive and compassionate in the moment). Youth is youth. We understand but trying not to put a burden on our souls and minds.

OLGA: Do you think thirty three is still youth? I see it as a classic age of a responsibility that a man has to finally face. By the way, have you learned how to accept the burden since?

ARTEM: I understand now how important it is to take on responsibility of being the first man and the first love in a woman's life.

OLGA: Understanding is a responsibility. People don't like responsibilities and are trying to repel them any way they can. What kind of responsibility could possibly be regarding a twenty five year old "bluestocking"? (Pause) I feel like the conversation is steering away. That is not what we should be talking about. This whole talk is in vain. This whole conversation is just a bunch of not quite thought through mix of blame and excuses. (Pause) It was not like this at all! What it was – just the youth and the heart that was impatiently waiting for love timidly trying it on. It was a warm and romantic evening and a cafe and a couple of young and carefree people eating an ice-cream. It was magical, even though it was as unique of the experience as it is for all other young couples in the world. It brought them happiness for the next very, very long two weeks. It was the time of the most sincere promises and the believe that it is going to be only the way they desire. There was not even a Shadow of the doubt that it might be otherwise and that they will eventually walk two separate ways, which will never cross again (very long pause).

ARTEM: Do you have anyone in your life?

OLGA: No I don't. (She talks with the mixture of sadness and flirt in her voice). Can you imaging, such an interesting and good-looking woman but no…

ARTEM: It can't be true. You still have your threshold set to high, perhaps or may be even higher now. I'll tell you one sad, banal and harsh truth. It is not enough to be smart, interesting and good-looking to find a man. You have to be a bitch… At least a little. Unfortunately, the mother nature deprived you this gift.

OLGA: Unfortunately! (Pause) You know, I don't understand a lot of things about others and what's more important about myself. I was a good pupil: accountable, reliable and accurate. That was much later, I realized that my Marx-Lenin-Communism upbringing had a huge controversy in it. I was taught to be free. I learned that only in our free country I can have a "full breath of freedom"… To be fair, no one ever mentioned the freedom of the thoughts and the choice. Even Dostoevsky was thrown out of high school education programs. His theory of generational slavery of minds did not fit into the "bright" soviet reality. We sought our children are going to be free and independent but we failed to see the line between the creative freedom and the vulgar lack of restrain. That's why there is no difference between a plumber and a president in this country. The president is most likely even more enslaved. He thinks he is the one who broke off the ties. He does not understand that he is only a chief slave that enjoys other slaves cringing before him with the deceptive admiration. There is no hope for the rebirth. We are needed – slaves are needed.