"If they are...I expect you won't come, all the same."
"Yes. But they're almost ready."
"You will go?"
"No, but I would send my son. Then will they be led to me."
"Your son?"
"He will emerge, pull out the Noise, and lead them through the aching darkness...here."
"Do you think Vladimir and E....E....the other one will wait that long?"
"They know nothing else. They need our light. Our truth. I know they will wait until the skin peels off their bones and they are staring up at the empty sky with an equally empty skull."
"..."
"One needs to be thrown the the lowest of low before I can raise them higher."
The Boy looks up from his card game. "Sir....why did you do that to Pozzo and Lucky?"
I glance at him, tearing my eyes off the Screen. "Why do you ask?"
"Pozzo, although a bit odd at times, didn't really need that to happen to him....and Lucky, he just needed a bit of truth..."
"A church such as Pozzo's is infectious, and often misled in its sects. His guidance and influence is blind...it seemed suitable."
"Then....Lucky?"
I consider this a moment.
"His words defied me. Knowledge without a base. Science without soul." I turn back to the Screen. "You saw how the other three reacted whenever he rambled for too long. It worried and confused Vladimir and Estragon."
"So....if he hadn't been silenced...."
"They would have forgotten what they were waiting for."
The Boy looks up in surprise as I turn off the Screen. It's understandable...this rarely occurs.
"Sir?"
"I'm visiting my son." I close the door behind me. The sky is dark black, the stars painted with faces screaming at my house. I put in my earbuds and begin listening to the six songs I put on my playlist only a few minutes back.
My son lives down the road, and memories of us playing together flow back as I travel the dirt walkway. He was so popular...my smile falls. And then they forgot about him.
I walk in without knocking. He's bent, old. Almost as if he's older than me. He doesn't have to watch a Screen, but he does have ear plugs in his ears, noise spilling in through them from supplications and messages filtered in from his secretary, Bethel.
She's nowhere in sight.
My son is sitting at his kitchen table when he looks up. He says loudly, "WHERE IS THE BOY?"
He can only hear me, no one else, through the noise in his ears.
So I reply, "Back home. He deserves rest. He's only human."
"I'VE BEEN LISTENING TO THE CONVERSATIONS OF THOSE TWO BELOW." He says solemnly, head in his hands. "AND THE TWO THAT VISITED. THEY SEEM NEAR. THE VERY FACT THAT THEY'RE WAITING AT THAT TREE..."
"It's not enough."
He's silent for a moment.
"YES. I SUPPOSE YOU'RE RIGHT."
"Hm."
"WILL YOU SEND THE BOY TO SPEAK TO THEM?"
"Yes. But I doubt they will understand what he's meaning."
"YOU'VE BEEN ERASING HIS MEMORY?"
"It'd be a problem for those at the tree and him if he didn't become new every now and then, right?"
I've found that as the years pass, as those two wait, The Boy must continue being new, open--otherwise he would be thrown out like my son. They aren't willing to see something old--they need new surprises. I wouldn't want anyone else to be hurt like my son.
"How're you holding up?"
My son only smiles softly. "I THINK IT'S TIME YOU HEADED BACK, OLD MAN."
I wouldn't waste my time watching them on the Screen. "And.....?" I prompt him.
He looks away. "The same. Nothing more."
"Then you know my reply."
The Boy nods, leaves.
I want to run to them, shake them. They are almost ready! I even sent Pozzo, Lucky...to bring them ever closer! Maybe they would've said something to maybe bring them to readiness....but I was mistaken.
I let my hand fall on my face and groan. Will they never learn? Will they never understand how long they've waited? How long I've waited?
I sigh, lean back, pop a couple candies in my mouth. The Boy is sitting crosslegged next to me.
"What's wrong with the screen, sir?" He asks, almost inaudibly.
I offer him some candies and he takes a couple carefully from my wide palm.
"It happens often when someone is by the tree."
"Oh, now I remember! The tree that marks....."
"Yes."
The Screen soon rights itself, and I return to browsing through the stations.
"Did they leave?" The Boy inquires.
"Well, no." I muse. "They just....aren't ready yet. The Screen almost thought they were."
I've been watching those two very closely lately. They have a pattern of returning every day, according to the Boy. And the Boy never remembers them. Something about them.....
What a waste of time. Really, they're all the same.
If I really cared about what an individual person was doing, I would let you know. Me telling you how much I spend on one channel on the Screen should already tell you how much I care for news on the outside.
I have heard noise from the outside when the Boy comes in, though. Something about Whitney something or other dying.
And I'm reminded of the weird priorities of the world.
My ceiling cracks a little more, the Screen shakes.
I wonder how long until any one will be asking for me.
It's the story of everyone. (With the exception of me).
What others value often harms what matters most. The Screen shows people struggling to fulfill lives that could already be complete if they'd only recognize it.
The man in this story reminds me of so many people. Most everyone. And the girl....is the victim of them, what they lose when they turn a blind eye to what really matters.
I'd give it four stars.
It would have been five, because it's so true...but, because it is the reality, and thus a tragedy, I had to demote a star.
Not really sure if that makes sense, but I don't care what you think anyway.
*Scrolling through iPod. Hmmmm....what to listen to....*
1. I'll Make a Man out of You
Really...? I guess. I think back to when I put this song on my music player....when I was watching the Screen. It was full of the same really....nothing really struck my interest. I remember all the letters, all the notices The Boy came with from people eager to hear from me, and then watching as some people didn't even care. To everyone, I knew the change couldn't come from me--they can't wait for ever. I'll come to them when they change, and are ready--they have to be a man first.
2. Alice of Human Sacrifice
There's no unique individuals, I think as I look at this song. It's not really my taste, but when I came across it....recognized what the song was saying...I could see it. Every face that had ever flashed across the screen was now dripping blood in the song, ruined by their own insanities. They were waiting for something good from their dreams, and I remember...I remember....they were waiting for me.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j6MltGHO-lE&feature=BFa&list=FLzd-1LUEpjPZCcbDuFIiKww&lf=plpp_video
3. Can't I Even Dream?
Another one....right after the last?! All this Japanese makes me smile...and makes me remember what the lyrics mean. Lately, I've been feeling a bit down from watching the Screen all the time. I remember, once, I stopped on a station, I don't remember why, but this song was playing. And strangely, I felt like it was crying to me. So much I want to reach out to them, but I cannot unless they reach for me.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3GR5WV87tsk&feature=BFa&list=FLzd-1LUEpjPZCcbDuFIiKww&lf=plpp_video
4. Rolling Girl
This one is rather new. The Boy came in yesterday, news of Vladimir's displeasure at my non-arrival. I briefly passed his channel, and remembered this song I'd heard what seems to be eons ago. Those two under that tree...I send the boy often to see them, and am always surprised they are waiting. But I need to see how long they will wait....how long they will let me say, "one more time".
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nuMg4ngtx3o&feature=BFa&list=FLzd-1LUEpjPZCcbDuFIiKww&lf=plpp_video
5. Trisha's Lullaby
When the Screen is too loud, I can feel my anger roil....my blood burns, and almost want to scream when the noise grows almost beyond what I can control. And then, the Screen seems to be shrieking at my anger....the Boy will walk in, hand me my iPod, and play this song. It's not just the lyrics that calm me, reminding me of my love for those waiting, but it's the melody itself, proving to me the beauty in the world. To this song, I can feel like there's hope for all waiting.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l2kwie-gs2o&feature=BFa&list=FLzd-1LUEpjPZCcbDuFIiKww&lf=plpp_video
6. Needing/Getting
Often, people are morons. It's probably the Screen's fault. It feels like Godot must wait for them. I send them signs....I send them the Boy to tell them....but they never see it. Aggravation. So although this song may be some romantic crap someone on the Screen wrote up, I oddly connect to it.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MejbOFk7H6c&list=FLzd-1LUEpjPZCcbDuFIiKww&index=8&feature=plpp_video
The screen in front of me flashes from channel to channel, my eyes following each figure's laugh as they flash on in my vision and are quickly replaced.
A timid knock sounds on my door.
"Enter." I already know who it is.
The boy enters, head low, eyes covered by his mop of hair. "Sir? They are waiting."
I turn off the endless stream of empty noise and lean back, letting my eyes trace the ceiling's cracks, the weight of the sky almost seeming to crush it towards me. "You've been watching them, yes?"
"Yes, sir."
"Then you know."
The boy nods once, leaves. The television turns itself back on. Faces crying now, screaming--at me.
Some people think I have a beard, others think me important. And others....are waiting for me to come.
I wouldn't describe myself. Really, most people see me differently from person to person. To some, I am bringer of evil, tall and looming, but to others, I'm dressed in white and happily smiling. It simply depends.
For those still waiting, you can read my blog here. I need not tell you the day I come, nor the hour, but perhaps this can pass the time.
