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Школа кожевенного мастерства: сумки, ремни своими руками
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  • Аннотация:
    Fragment
   A play in five acts
  
  
   Cast of Characters
  
   Ken Philmore: A biker 30 years of age.
  
   Mr. Hate: Ira Kelly, a shooter 30 years of age.
  
   Father Luke: A protestant priest 60 years of age.
  
   Peter Dolloghue a boy 16 years of age.
  
   Judy Nelson: a woman 30 years of age.
  
   Dan Brackett: an old miner, the caretaker at Mount Joy, indigenous Australian, 83 years old.
  
   Clarence Brackett: the system administrator at the communications station, the local news radio presenter, indigenous Australian 35 years old.
  
   Bill Crocker: a council ranger 36 years old.
  
   Various residents of the city of Ken
  
   Scene
   A remote rural city in Australia.
  
  
   Time
   Our days.
  
  ACT I
  
  Scene 1
  
  SETTING: A bright hot day. An abandoned gold mine in the desert outside the town. Barrows of waste rock, a huge broken rusty caterpillar excavator with a mighty iron toothed bucket raised high above the cabin is set like a pagan god on a hilltop, a dead-end railway with a forgotten rusty car on it half buried in the sand, a torn down fence of barbed wire marking the mine"s boundary.
  
  AT RISE: KEN, dressed as a biker, makes his way on foot across the desert towards the mine. He carries nothing but a plastic bottle of water in one hand. FATHER LUKE sits like a carrion-crow in his black robe on the top of the barrow overlooking the desert and silently prays. Four schoolboys of sixteen chase PETER DOLLOGHUE along the railway, hurling insults at him. He manages to outrun the pursuers, jumps into the railroad car and with a great effort shuts the sliding door. FATHER LUKE watches the boys but makes no attempt to reveal his presence. The boys fail to break into the car and start throwing stones at it.
  
  PETER
  Go away, you cowards!
  
  BOY 1
  Shut up, faggot!
  
  BOY 2
  (picks up a metal rod and bangs with it on the iron sides of the car, shouting abuse)
  Come out! Come out, Peter poof! Peter poof!? Are you there? It"s your mummy. Knock, knock!
  
  BOY 3
  If you aren"t pussy why hide in the pussy wagon?
  
  PETER
  Between you and me, Bob, your girlfriend is an ugly stupid bitch who looks like a man more than you do! So...
  
  BOY 3
  What did you say!
  (to BOY 2)
  Give it to me.
  (takes the rod and violently bangs with it on the car door)
  Out! Out, you, faggot! Fight with me like a man if you wanna say something!
  
  PETER
  If you are a man, send away your pussy friends, throw away this metal thing and I"ll come out and kick your man"s ass, because I don"t fight with girls, you know.
  
  BOY 3
  The hell you will come out of here.
  (bolts the door with the rod and bends it at both ends)
  Anyone"s got a rattle can? I wanna write something inappropriate on this little faghouse.
  
  (BOY4 takes a spray paint can from his backpack and throws it to BOY 3. KEN approaches the boys.)
  
  KEN
  Why are you doing this?
  
  (The BOYS look at KEN in surprise and fear, grab their backpacks and run away without saying a word.)
  
  PETER
  Mister, I am here. Can you let me out, please?
  
  KEN
  Of course.
  (unbolts the door)
  Hi. I am Ken.
  
  PETER
  Thank you. I am Peter.
  
  KEN
  (recalls the last name)
  Dolloghue.
  
  PETER
  (surprised)
  Yes.
  (They shake hands.)
  
  KEN
  (softly puts his hands on PETER"s shoulders and lovingly looks him in the eyes)
  I remember you.
  
  PETER
  (ill at ease)
  Hey, man, thank you, but look, sorry.., so that just you know, I have nothing against gays but I am not a gay really.
  
  KEN
  I know.
  (takes his hands away)
  Much worse is that like many in this place you have started to despise girls for being girls.
  
  PETER
  Well, man, if you only knew our girls... Silly peasant peacocks acting like everyone owes them a world and if you have a mind of your own they set their bulldogs at your heels.
  
  KEN
  Don"t tell. I know them more than you can imagine. You are thirsty. Drink.
  (gives him the bottle)
  
  PETER
  Thank you.
  (drinks greedily, returns the bottle back)
  
  KEN
  No, take it. I want you to do something for me, it is very important. Run to the senior constable and tell him that Mr. Hate arrives on the three o"clock train this afternoon and he will go straight to the Nelsons. And then...
  
  PETER
  (interrupts)
  Who"s Mr. Hate?
  
  KEN
  You are too young to know him but sergeant Platt knows the man. Then go home and tell your mother to listen to the local radio this evening at seven, I will make an announcement and if you listen carefully you will learn the most important thing in your life.
  
  PETER
  What"s that?
  
  KEN
  The answer that will free you of all fear and doubt... I love you.
  
  PETER
  (abashed)
  You aren"t my father, are you?
  
  KEN
  No, I am more. Now tell me what you say to the sergeant?
  
  PETER
  Don"t worry, I got it: Mr. Hate arrives at three by train and he will go to the Nelsons.
  
  KEN
  Attaboy! Run now and straight to the police station, OK.
  
  PETER
  Bye!
  
  (PETER runs away. MR. BRACKETT enters.)
  
  MR. BRACKETT
  Hey, who are you? What are you doing here? It"s private property. What these boys"ve been up to again?
  
  KEN
  Dan!? Hi!! I am so glad to see you!
  (hugs the old man)
  
  MR. BRACKETT
  (frees himself from KEN"s embrace)
  I bet I"ve never seen you in my life, lad! Who are you, how do you know me?
  
  KEN
  My name is Ken.
  
  MR. BRACKETT
  Ha, like our city!
  
  KEN
  Very much so! You"re the oldest miner from Mount Joy, Mr. Brackett, every dog in town knows you!
  
  MR. BRACKETT
  Dog, maybe... Still I"m sure as hell we"ve never met. Are you from the union or something?
  
  KEN
  No. I"m a biker.., for now.
  
  MR. BRACKETT
  (looks around)
  Where is your bike?
  
  KEN
  Run out of gas. I had to leave it on the road a few miles back there.
  
  MR. BRACKETT
  Well, you better not leave it for the night. Did you see what these boys were doing here?
  
  KEN
  Who"s that man over there?
  (points at FATHER LUKE)
  He must know things better than me.
  
  MR. BRACKETT
  It"s Father Luke our priest.
  
  KEN
  Why is he not at the church?
  
  MR. BRACKETT
  He"s sweating for our sins. He"s a Protestant.
  
  KEN
  I can see that. Well, let"s go and ask him how his progress"s going.
  (climbs up the barrow to Father Luke)
  
  MR. BRACKETT
  Not for the life of me I can climb that slope.
  (stays behind)
  
  KEN
  (panting)
  Hello, father, I am Ken.
  
  FATHER LUKE
  (not looking at KEN)
  Like our city?
  
  KEN
  Very much so. You obviously give.. ah.. sweat about the fate of this town.., why didn"t you try to stop the boys from hurting each other?
  
  FATHER LUKE
  What do you want?
  
  KEN
  Nothing. I just want to know why.
  
  FATHER LUKE
  God created wolves to clean up the flock of the sick. It"s not the man"s business to prevent the course of nature.
  
  KEN
  Don"t you think it"s a bit medieval thing to say nowadays for a good shepherd?
  (no answer)
  What if I say that this Peter boy is you?
  
  FATHER LUKE
  (grins and looks at KEN suspiciously)
  What could that mean?
  
  KEN
  I say literally. Do you believe in the existence of the soul?
  
  FATHER LUKE
  I wouldn"t be a priest if I didn"t.
  
  KEN
  So what would you say if I told you that after you die your soul will be reborn in Peter.
  
  FATHER LUKE
  (looking intently in KEN"s eyes)
  I would say it"s nonsense.
  
  KEN
  What makes you so sure?
  
  FATHER LUKE
  First of all as a Christian I don"t believe in reincarnation. And..
  (laughs)
  if you noticed neither I am dead yet nor the boy is unborn.
  
  KEN
  Do you think time is some concrete thing?
  
  FATHER LUKE
  No, I think that the fact is a concrete thing.
  
  KEN
  No, the fact seems concrete only if based on the timing being concrete.
  
  FATHER LUKE
  All right, the timing is concrete - two men can"t have one soul at the same time.
  
  KEN
  Remember, in the Bible John the Baptist says: don"t say Abraham is our father, for God can raise up children for Abraham of these stones. Do you believe it"s true?
  
  FATHER LUKE
  I believe that God is almighty and he can do whatever he wills.
  
  KEN
  Including taking your soul after your body dies and putting it into unborn Peter.
  
  FATHER LUKE
  Look, even if my own son were a pervert I would not move a finger to defend him from God"s wroth.
  
  KEN
  I didn"t say your son, I said you, if you were a pervert would you feed your own self to the wolves?
  (no answer)
  Is it so hard to imagine yourself being another person?
  
  FATHER LUKE
  To what purpose I should think of myself as of a pervert when I am not and never will be.
  
  KEN
  In order to love yourself. If you love yourself so little that you would condemn yourself to abuse for not living up to your own moral standards how are you going to love other people? And what does seem more important to you: some made-up policies or a living being?
  
  FATHER LUKE
  God"s words are not some made-up policies.
  
  KEN
  Doesn"t it feel wrong that you can"t imagine yourself even being another person but so easily imagine yourself being a god? I have to disappoint you, but it doesn"t work like that. Before you begin to judge of someone fairly, like God does, you have to know the character from inside, like God does - every last one of them, even the dirtiest hooker imaginable.
  
  FATHER LUKE
  (laughs goodheartedly)
  There are a lot of people in this world who indulge themselves with utmost self love and selfishness in all possible vices and crimes without a shadow of regret, doubt or remorse. If God in his fathomless wisdom decided to punish my intolerance by turning me into one of them, then, perhaps, your reasoning would be more to my liking.
  
  KEN
  No, you"re well past that stage. With your reason and your soul you can"t compare yourself with such people, it would be like comparing a first grade student with a graduate. God may be able to raise up sons for Abraham of these rocks but even God can"t diminish your soul. Believe me, this is a one way trip, though very, very winding.
  
  FATHER LUKE
  (smiles constrainedly amicably)
  It was nice talking to you, young man, but I would like to pray now.
  
  KEN
  Yes, of course.., by the way I came to tell you that all your prayers will be answered today at seven o"clock on the local news radio.
  
  FATHER LUKE
  Do you at least know what I"m praying for?
  
  KEN
  Words of truth, tolerance of heart, sincere faith most of all...
  (FATHER LUKE looks at KEN in astonishment)
  Don"t be surprised, I am a psychiatrist, I"ve worked with clergy, you all want the same. I hope you will come to see me tomorrow.
  
  FATHER LUKE
  Where?
  
  KEN
  I don"t know yet. You"ll be hearing from me.
  (returns to MR. BRACKETT)
  
  MR. BRACKETT
  What did he say?
  
  KEN
  Some boys were chasing Peter Dolloghue, but when they saw me, they run away.
  
  MR. BRACKETT
  So I thought. Poor boy. He won"t live long in a town like this.
  
  KEN
  Don"t worry, he will live a long and happy life.
  
  MR. BRACKETT
  How one can know such things?
  
  KEN
  Today I am going to change things.
  
  MR. BRACKETT
  What are you talking about? Who are you?
  
  KEN
  It"s a long story. Let"s go to see Clarence. Then you will know everything.
  
  MR. BRACKETT
  My nephew?
  
  KEN
  Yeah.
  
  (They leave.)
  
  END OF SCENE
  
  Scene 2
  
  SETTING: The territory of the mine adjoins the outskirts of the town near the highway entrance marked with a pole carrying a two-sided sign "Welcome to the City of Ken Est. 1856/ You are leaving the City of Ken Happy trails!" and another smaller sign beneath facing the desert "300 miles to the next gas station".
  AT RISE: KEN and MR. BRACKETT walk towards the outskirts of the town.
  
  MR. BRACKETT
  Pardon me for saying so, Mr. Ken, we just met, but for some reason I"ve got a feeling as if eh.. I"ve known you all my life.., nay, even closer, as if you were my son, if I had one, almost as if you had lived with me all the time, if you get my meaning.
  
  KEN
  (exclaims)
  You are quite right! And no Mr. Ken, please - just Ken.
  
  MR. BRACKETT
  I didn"t mean to offend.
  
  KEN
  Why!? I"m not offended in the least, I"m happy that you said so. You are absolutely right.., literally.
  
  MR. BRACKETT
  No, not literally, you can"t mean that.
  
  KEN
  But I do mean exactly that and I"m glad you can see our likeness, not many can.
  
  MR. BRACKETT
  (laughs)
  You"re joking...
  
  KEN
  No. It"s not a joke at all. You felt that we are one just now but I have known it all my life that"s why I am here.
  
  MR. BRACKETT
  No, you can"t seriously say it. Look, no way we can be even farthest relatives: I"m blackest black, you - whitest white.
  
  KEN
  Really? I thought I"d get some tan in the desert.
  
  MR. BRACKETT
  Of course you got your tan, but...
  
  KEN
  I know what you mean: the racial thing. Forget about it. Let"s imagine that your body is like a Ford T model, you know Ford T model?
  
  MR. BRACKETT
  I"m afraid not.
  
  KEN
  It"s the first mass production car.
  
  MR. BRACKETT
  (looks himself over)
  Well, you might say that.
  
  KEN
  And my body is a Harley Davidson bike. There is no likeness between Ford T and a Harley bike whatsoever but if they were driven by father and son would the external difference between these two vehicles somehow affect the blood bond between the drivers?
  (Pause.)
  What if I said that the drivers were not father and son but one same person?
  
  MR. BRACKETT
  What do you mean?
  
  KEN
  I mean who cares from what monkeys come the bloodlines of our bodies if one soul is driving both.
  
  MR. BRACKETT
  Everybody would think you"re crazy but let"s say I bought it.., no! Wait a sec! How about time? You can"t drive two cars at the same time!
  
  KEN
  Indeed not! I have to tell you: unfortunately your car will die and you will have to change it.
  
  MR. BRACKETT
  (laughing)
  For this one!?
  (pokes KEN at the chest)
  
  KEN
  Well, no.. for another one.
  
  MR. BRACKETT
  (pokes again)
  This is the last model, right, I have not earned it yet?
  
  KEN
  It"s much more complicated but on the whole you"re right.
  
  MR. BRACKETT
  How it happens: I die, go back in time, get born, live, die again, go back in time, get born again..? What"s the problem, I can"t move forward, I don"t deserve better times?
  (laughs bitterly)
  
  KEN
  There is no time. You create it. Time exists only in your mind.
  
  MR. BRACKETT
  Well, how many are there of you or of me?
  
  KEN
  About three thousands as far as I can remember, maybe a lot more but I have no recollections.
  
  MR. BRACKETT
  So, if you speak the truth, you must have my memory, otherwise how would you know?
  
  KEN
  Right.
  
  MR. BRACKETT
  Well, tell me, what you remember? Tell me when my birthday is.
  
  KEN
  You don"t know that yourself.
  
  MR. BRACKETT
  Good. What else do you not remember from being me?
  
  KEN
  I would like not to remember long, long dark years of pain, suffering and senseless toil which drove me mad. Thus passed my youth, then came the time of killing rage which had no outlet until I killed a white man purely out of unquenchable hatred and buried him in the desert, I still remember the place because I"ve visited it till the end of my days.
  
  MR. BRACKETT
  (shuddering)
  Enough.
  
  KEN
  Since then I"ve lived in self damnation, punished myself with hardest toil and learning, I won the custody of my nephew from a white couple in Queensland, fought for the rights of black people, was fired from the mine...
  
  MR. BRACKETT
  Please, enough, I believe you...
  (falls on his knees, crying)
  Forgive me.., forgive me.., forgive me, oh, God...
  
  KEN
  Dan, please, get up. Look at me.
  (helps BRACKETT up)
  Look at me. I am not God, I am you. God forgives us, I forgive you.
  
  MR. BRACKETT
  No, you can"t forgive me.
  
  KEN
  I am you, only I can forgive myself and I forgive myself for everything.
  
  MR. BRACKETT
  (sobbing)
  No! Do you remember with what hellish joy I plunged the knife in his stomach?! How can you forgive that!? He was still breathing and I was standing over him laughing, and then he realized it and started to scream terribly, I can still see his eyes so frightened, and I stabbed him in the heart, it sobered me up but instead of going to the police I dragged him into the desert and buried him like a dog without feeling slightest remorse. Oh, God, I relive this night every night of my life!
  
  KEN
  There was no murder. You murdered no one, you are forgiven.
  
  MR. BRACKETT
  How!?
  
  KEN
  Because I was Albert Morton. My father and my mother shared racist views which I inherited and magnified. I was a young fool, dreaming of apartheid in Australia. Once when I was in town on holiday I was walking home at night and met a drunk black man in dirty clothes, I thought he was scared of me because he crossed to the other side of the road and I followed him, he hurried away from me and I started shouting insults at him, but he didn"t even turn his head, he only waved helplessly his long repulsive apelike hands. I thought black men must have been completely deprived of self-respect by nature, so I pressed on with my bullying. Oh, how much I hated him at this moment! I thought if he wouldn"t react on me a minute longer I would run up to him and smash his head with a stone, but suddenly he reacted - you know the rest. I was at once the victim and the killer. The actual murder never happened. It was just a lesson. Surely you don"t think that the merciful god would let his children to torture and kill each other! We do it only to ourselves.
  
  (A council ranger BILL CROCKER quietly drives up to KEN and MR. BRACKETT in a police car and gives a shrill signal. MR. BRACKETT is startled. KEN checks the time on his watch. CROCKER steps out of the car.)
  
  CROCKER
  Who is your friend Mr. Brackett?
  
  KEN
  My name is Ken.
  
  CROCKER
  (comes closer)
  What, like our city?
  
  KEN
  Very much so.
  
  CROCKER
  What are you doing here, may I ask?
  
  KEN
  I came to stay here for a while. I am a traveler.
  
  CROCKER
  On what business are you?
  
  KEN
  I want to make an announcement on the local radio today at seven.
  
  CROCKER
  About what?
  
  KEN
  You have to listen to the announcement to know that, officer. Please, do tell all your family and friends and coworkers about it. It"s very important and it will concern everyone in this town.
  
  CROCKER
  I"m not your PR agent, man, but I"ll make sure that I"ll listen to it. Are you some kind of a travelling salesman?
  
  KEN
  No.
  
  CROCKER
  Do you have a vehicle?
  
  KEN
  A bike. I left it on the highway. I run out of gas and had to go a few miles on foot.
  
  CROCKER
  In that case, may I see your license?
  
  KEN
  Sure.
  (gives the document to the RANGER)
  
  CROCKER
  (reads aloud)
  Ken J. Philmore, 1988 Pacific Plaza, Sydney. You"ve made a long way from home.
  (hands the documents back to KEN)
  Do you know the local boy named Peter Dolloghue?
  
  KEN
  Yes. I met him half an hour ago. I sent him to the police station to warn you that Mr. Hate is coming by today"s train.
  
  MR. BRACKETT
  Mr. Hate is back?
  
  CROCKER
  How do you know that?
  
  KEN
  I was his supervising doctor in Sydney.
  
  CROCKER
  So you let him out, eh?
  
  KEN
  He had an operation on his brain three years ago, since then he has pretended to be normal, fooled the commission and we had to release him.
  
  CROCKER
  Strange folk you are. If you knew that he fooled you why he was released?
  
  KEN
  If I"d told anybody how I knew it I would have been deemed crazy myself.
  
  MR. BRACKETT
  You"d better listen to him, Bill. You"ve no idea...
  
  CROCKER
  (interrupts)
  You"ve no idea in Sydney what a hell of a problem you created for a small place like ours!
  
  KEN
  Folks in Sydney had nothing to do with it. We created Mr. Hate, he is our problem. Keep a close watch on him, he is not well at all.
  
  CARPENTER
  (on the police radio)
  Bill, it seems true: Ira Kelly is indeed on the passengers list of today"s train. Do you copy?
  
  CROCKER
  (picks up the receiver)
  Yes.
  
  CARPENTER
  (on the police radio)
  Boss tells you to go to the Nelsons and bring them over to the station.
  
  CROCKER
  Roger.
  (hangs up the receiver, gets into the car, drives away)
  
  MR. BRACKETT
  Ken, are you a happy man.
  
  KEN
  Absolutely.
  
  MR. BRACKETT
  You know, I have never left Ken in my life. Have you seen the world? Have you been to Paris, London, Rome, Tibet?
  
  KEN
  Yes, I"ve seen everything, I have seen all the world, I sailed across all oceans and climbed to the top of Everest, I read all books worthy of reading, I"ve spoken many languages, I"ve seen paintings and sculptures of the greatest masters and fathomed the deepest intricacies of science, once I was even a Hollywood star.
  (Pause.)
  MR. BRACKETT
  Tell me one more thing: you don"t have these dreadful tattoos all over your body like some bikers?
  
  KEN
  No.
  
  MR. BRACKETT
  Thank god. Can you believe it: all these years I"ve thought I"m going to hell and now all of a sudden.., oh, boy, what an adventure is awaiting me!
  
  KEN
  (smiling, looks at his watch)
  I think we have some spare time, Dan, let"s have a bite.
  
  MR. BRACKETT
  Would you let me take care of your bike while you"re having launch.
  
  KEN
  Forget about it, I don"t need it anymore.
  
  MR. BRACKETT
  How!? You"ll have to go back to your world!
  
  KEN
  This is my world, Dan, I"m going to live here in peace with myself, with you.
  
  MR. BRACKETT
  No! No... This is a bad place for you, you.., you can"t stay with these people, you won"t teach them anything, they don"t want to know anything.
  
  KEN
  You don"t understand, Dan...
  
  BRACKETT
  What?
  
  KEN
  There are no bad people. Come on, I"m hungry as a dingo.
  
  (They leave.)
  
  (END OF ACT)
  
  
  ACT II
  
  Scene 1
  
  SETTINGS: Evening. The city communications station, CLARENCE BRACKETT"s broadcasting studio room. A vinyl record is played.
  AT RISE: CLARENCE sits behind the desk, working on his laptop. Enters DAN BRACKETT followed by KEN carrying a little book.
  
  CLARENCE
  (to his uncle)
  Hi, dad.
  
  MR. BRACKETT
  Hi, Clarence, meet my friend, Ken, he came from Sydney.
  (to KEN)
  Ken, this is Clarence, my nephew, the computer wizard, he always calls me dad.
  
  CLARENCE
  Hello, Mr. Ken, nice to meet you. Dan flatters me, I am not that good, only for a village...
  (shakes hands with KEN)
  
  KEN
  Clarence, I am glad to see you. Judging by the look of your studio you are good for any place.
  
  CLARENCE
  Eh, have you heard the news, dad?! Remember the psycho Ira Kelly, Mr. Hate, they called him, who shot his classmates ten years ago? He was released and came back here today, he learned that his former girlfriend, Judy had married to Clark Nelson, they live in her parents" house on Bottle street. So this Mr. Hate stole a kitchen knife and went there to kill her, but the constable with his rangers had been waiting for him there and they took him down!
  
  KEN
  Did they kill him?!
  
  CLARENCE
  No, just shot him in the leg, they say.
  
  MR. BRACKETT
  Ken knows everything about this Kelly man, he warned the constable about his coming.
  
  CLARENCE
  Really, how is that?
  
  KEN
  I was his supervising psychiatrist in Sydney.
  
  MR. BRACKETT
  (looks at the clock, time 6:50)
  Actually we came to ask you to send sms to.., what you called it, Ken, emergency alert system?
  
  KEN
  Yes. I need you, Clarence, to send emergency alert sms to every mobile phone connected to this tower.
  
  CLARENCE
  What kind of emergency message?
  
  KEN
  There is no emergency. I want to inform the townsfolk, all at once, to turn on the radio right now and listen for their life to your seven o"clock broadcast.
  
  CLARENCE
  But don"t worry, I tell you, Kelly is in custody he won"t harm anyone now.
  
  KEN
  It"s not about Kelly. I want to make a testimony.
  
  CLARENCE
  A testimony? You want to go live?
  
  MR. BRACKETT
  Please, Clarence, don"t argue, do as he says, he is our friend.
  
  CLARENCE
  All right. But, you know, emergency alert messaging is automated, I can"t interfere.
  
  KEN
  I"m sure you can bypass it.
  
  CLARENCE
  I can lose my job.
  
  MR. BRACKETT
  There is much more than that at stake, Clarence. Please, do it this once.
  
  CLARENCE
  OK. I"ll do it. What do you want me to send, something like "Dear citizens, listen for your life to the local news radio broadcast at seven pm"?
  
  KEN
  Yes, it"s fine.
  
  (CLARENCE leaves the room to send the message.)
  
  MR. BRACKETT
  (settles himself in an armchair)
  Don"t you think you should warn him a bit about what you"re going to say?
  
  KEN
  Don"t worry, he will not freak out.
  
  (CLARENCE returns.)
  
  CLARENCE
  It"s done.
  (looks at the clock)
  It"s almost seven. We should start. Do you want it to run on YouTube?
  
  MR. BRACKETT and KEN
  (simultaneously with the same intonation)
  Yes, why not?!
  (both laugh)
  
  CLARENCE
  (looks at them in surprise)
  You"re acting so strange.
  (sets the camera in front of the table, moves chairs around for KEN and for himself)
  Take a seat.
  (KEN sits down, puts his book on the table, CLARENCE adjusts the camera angle, turns the camera on, takes his seat and begins the transmission.)
  
  CLARENCE
  (plays the entry song fragment)
  Good evening ladies and gentlemen, today it"s just turned out, I"ll be hosting an unusual broadcast of which you all were informed a few minutes ago. For those of you who would like to see us live I"m streaming this broadcast on my YouTube channel Mount Joy Jazz Room, please, subscribe if you haven"t yet, join the chat, leave your comments and questions, we will try to discuss them later on. Today, as those of you, who are watching us on YouTube, can see, we have a special guest. It"s the man of the day, Mr. Ken, a doctor from Sydney, his timely information helped sergeant Platt to capture Ira Kelly, aka Mr. Hate, this afternoon at Judy Nelson"s house. Mr. Ken, as he told me, came here to make a testimony before the people of his namesake city. Please, proceed Mr. Ken, the jury is yours.
  
  KEN
  Thank you, your honor. Good evening, everybody.
  (pauses. CLARENCE silently prompts KEN to continue talking.)
  Thank you, CLARENCE, thank you. My testimony will not be about psychopath Kelly or myself, it will be about you, it will concern every one of three hundred forty four residents of Ken, children and parents, men and women, black and white, all equally.
  (pauses again)
  I have imagined this talk thousand times and never figured out the right words I should say to you to make you believe me, to make you listen to me. You see, we live our lives, love, hate, desire, aspire, despair, achieve, fail, help, hurt, give birth and die.., die inevitably and die senselessly.., whatever we do the outcome of life is death. Let us admit it: life makes no sense to people who don"t know the answer to this one question "What is death?" And senseless activities never bring satisfaction. All religions, philosophies, arts and sciences have been humanity"s desperate attempts to make sense out of life by trying to fit a key to this ultimate question "What is death?" And everything else apart from philosophical searches for the everlasting soul within ourselves, arts and sciences have been humanity"s equally desperate attempts to cover up, to screen off the eternal failure in finding this answer. If you knew, if only you knew for sure what lies beyond death, what awaits you there on the other side, if you felt at heart that here is the true answer like two times two equals four, who of you would go on acting as he or she has done up to this point?! You would be set free all at once.., you would never again in your life feel fear and doubt; fear and doubt, these two constant companions of each of you, they are the shackles on your legs, they are the poison in the cup of life, the needle sitting in your heart, every time you try to take a full breath of the joy of life, this needle gives you piercing pain at which you instantly shrink back. This needle arrests in midflight your every joy, every venture, every good impulse, and you think, "How can I be so glad, so bold, so naive!?" Joy will pass, youth will pass, there will be sorrow, illness, loss, loneliness, disability and finally your own death which will put a stop, and for many even a sudden stop, to all your aspirations. And the worst part is that there"re a few billions of live examples before your eyes proving to you this point. You can"t be happy one day at a time, you all want universal ironclad happiness, but all you get is a life in doubt and insecurity. You fear for your spouses, your children, your parents, your own good and you doubt them and yourselves, because you are afraid of the future because the future, the most brilliant future has the grave at its end. Think that if you were absolutely sure like two times two equals four, sure at heart that the grave is your final stop you wouldn"t be doing anything in your lives at all, what would be the reason, where would you get motivation to learn, to work, to have children to feed them to the same dead-end grave? No way! We would have long gone from the face of the earth drunk and opiated! In fact our very existence, our very reason, our very will to be proves that the grave is not the final stop!
  (Pause.)
  
  CLARENCE
  That"s really encouraging!
  
  KEN
  Yes. But to be happy and secured you still need the answer "What is death!?" because our will to be actually proves nothing to our mind. Only the true answer, the truth of which you would feel at heart, will suffice. And this answer can be give you neither by religion, nor art, nor science. In the world where an average civilized man is more humane, tolerant and kind than the god of his forefathers, at least he would never condemn billions of people to everlasting torture for disbelieving or just verbally offending him, the god naturally loses his potency, because our god must be the most kind, most forgiving and just. When you hear that a set of seemingly random actions, made up by people who lived thousands years ago in mortal terror of nature and of each other, is going to give you salvation from death, even if you do believe that it is, it still doesn"t take that needle out of your heart, because at heart you fear and doubt as ever. No educated man can force his mind to seriously believe even in the most developed religion, because on one hand he has to believe in the almighty loving Father in Heaven who forbids him to kill, hate, lie, steal, etcetera.., while on the other hand he contemplates the four billion years of the cold and cruel evolution of Mother Nature which had preset the flesh and toil of one being to be the food and leisure of every other being. Life on earth is a massacre and even the very existence of such notions as pity and tolerance may be in itself considered as a clear manifestation of divine presence. Instead much stronger it"s felt that science hammered the last nail in God"s coffin and God, as we"ve known him for centuries, is officially irrevocably dead! And alone with him have gone Heaven, everlasting soul and all our hopes for salvation after death. But the secret reason beyond your will still persists "No! Live on, enjoy, dare!" This is your final stop: you have reached the cognitive dissonance "The God is dead. Long live the God!" This your reason can"t bypass by default because beyond it lies the true answer to the question "What is death?"
  (Pause.)
  
  CLARENCE
  I think, Ken, you figured out words all right. Two hundred twelve are watching us on YouTube.
  
  KEN
  Thank you. This was the introduction by the way... The main part is.. - I know the answer to the question "What is death?" And I came to tell it to you. This once the universe, or call it God, allowed this to happen, there is no other remedy for you, people of Ken. You stuck forever in this time and place you don"t want to move on, you go in circles. I want you to listen now very carefully: we all, three hundred forty four, three hundred forty five, including me, current residents of this town are one soul...We all are physically one soul, one being living together in three hundred forty five different parallel incarnations.
  (Pause.)
  
  MR. BRACKETT
  (astonished, whispering)
  No.., I thought you said...
  
  KEN
  (whispers to DAN)
  I told you Dan, you didn"t understand.
  (to the audience)
  I know, not many of you will believe it, but I repeat: we all are one soul living in parallel incarnations: men and women, children and parents, black and white, heterosexual and homosexual. Our bodies are different, our gens are different, our mindsets are different, the soul inside is one.
  
  CLARENCE
  (confused)
  Man.., oh, man.. that"s.. that"s impossible what you say.., this is crazy, how did you.. come up with this idea?
  
  KEN
  I did not come up with this idea, I was born with this knowledge. I don"t know how and where my soul was born but I first came to be as the captain Kenneth Bartholomew Hills the founder of this town, born in Liverpool in 1822. In 1853 I was commissioned to deliver convicts to Australia aboard the prison ship called "Irony", in 1854 I reached Sydney. It was the time of the gold rush; with the money, I earned, and with connections, I had in Sydney, I equipped a hundred and eighty able man with their families, mostly ex-convicts, and we set out to find Mount Joy, which was the fabled Australian Eldorado of that time. In 1856 we finally found it.
  (pauses)
  Of course I didn"t remember all these facts and dates, too many lives have passed, so I went to the library and looked them up in this little book
  (holds the book in front of the camera)
  "The story of Ken" written by Howard Hills the current owner of Mount Joy.
  (CLARENCE lets out a disappointing sound.)
  The facts seem pretty accurate here but the characters are completely wrong. Oh, Howard Hills! Silly old me, so vain, so naive!
  (opens the book, reads out)
  Sir Kenneth Bartholomew Hills, a nobleman of unknown origin.., proved himself as a brave and just captain, fitted out ex-convicts at his own expense. The generous prospector set the example of true mateship among his gold diggers, befriended the local tribe, hired many black men as workers on his mine, built the railroad, church, school and numerous public buildings. Died from pneumonia at the age of fifty six.
  (sighs)
  Kenneth Hills was an opportunist, killer, rapist, robber, racist, sadist and a vainglorious coward. He exploited his ex-con workers. He enslaved the local tribe and wiped out those who opposed him. The only thing he built here were slave-quarters.., ah, yes, and the church. Like many of his kind he loved to demonstrate his piety to the public. He kept mistresses both white and black, raped black girls, killed and tortured to death those who stole from him or offended him in any way. He died from a heart attack during an orgy.
  (throws the book back on the table)
  
  CLARENCE
  (whispers)
  I wish you hadn"t said it.
  
  KEN
  I forgive him, so you will have to forgive him too, because every crime he committed was against his own soul. His soul was in the body of every girl he raped, every thief he tortured, every black man he enslaved, every worker he cheated. If you look through the city chronicles at the library as I did today you will see that each census, starting from 1860 to this day, showed either three hundred forty four or forty five residents in the city of Ken.
  
  CLARENCE
  This, this.. is a sure jaw-dropping revelation, I.., I don"t know what to say. Actually in this town the man is thought to be a hero.., well... So you mean, you are his reincarnation?
  
  KEN
  Have you been listening? The soul of this man is in every one of us, in every resident of Ken, in you, in me, in Dan, in everybody - we are one!
  
  CLARENCE
  (clears the throat, waves his hands)
  Wait, how can it be? That"s impossible! You can"t populate the whole town with one soul. How one soul can be in two bodies at the same time? I think one body has to die first. And with three hundred forty five this is just getting ridiculous!
  
  KEN
  I"ve long been thinking how to explain it to you... Imagine that Heaven is a power station and we are Christmas lights hanging on a strand of time, powered by just one soul from Heaven. Now you think that these Christmas lights are connected to the strand in a series circuit and in order to breathe the soul into one light bulb the previous one must fist breathe it out. But it"s not so: we are connected to Heaven on a parallel timeline. Thus our soul on completion of a life circle returns to Heaven and, you would say, travels back in time there, to get born again.
  
  CLARENCE
  Travels back in time, eh?.. It"s a hell of a mind boggling theory... So if I get you right, for this heaven machinery to work synchronously every our action must be fated to the minutest degree. Where is free will then? Are we mere puppets, dangling on timelines?
  
  KEN
  Indeed, every action is fated, if it were not, everything would just fall apart. But that doesn"t rule out free will, because free will is the actor. Think of this world as of a story which we not read but live. When you happen to read an interesting story with captivating characters you feel as if you virtually put your soul into the characters and experience their world with them, see it through them, finally you become them. Especially when you are kid and read a book as captivating as Harry Potter you lose your identity and become Harry Potter, and you become his friends and teachers, their enemies become your enemies. Heaven is such a book just on an infinitely bigger scale. From our perspective it would seem that Heaven had had the book published before the story was written, what naturally makes you think, that the story is firmly directed from Heaven, but it"s simply an illusion. Look at it from Heaven"s or the book"s point of view: for the book itself time does not exist, every single moment on the story"s timeline is being contained at the book"s present forever. When you riffling the pages of a book backward and forward, you aren"t time travelling, likewise there is no actual time travelling in Heaven only the illusion of time travelling.
  
  CLARENCE
  You mean that in Heaven we all are already dead and yet unborn at the same time?
  
  KEN
  Precisely. Like in a book: a character"s birth and death differ not by time but by a place in the book.
  
  CLARENCE
  So time is the space of Heaven like here space is.. space?
  
  KEN
  Well, it was a rough example. Time is not space, time is information. I mean time which our mind perceives is a flow of information: if the flow is shoal time drags, if it"s rapid - time flies, if it"s turned off, means you sleep, time is no time.
  
  CLARENCE
  Don"t argue with yourself - it"s as I said, time is the space of Heaven.
  
  KEN
  (laughs)
  Yes. If you mean that Heaven is made of information. Heaven is information but not the flow, it is an infinite self-conscious ocean of information.
  
  CLARENCE
  Then the soul too, if it goes in and out of Heaven, is information.
  
  KEN
  It is. The soul is the operating system of the brain.
  
  CLARENCE
  Somehow I"m getting your theory, Ken, but it feels a bit degrading to be just some insignificant copy among three hundred forty five copies of you. When you grow, you want to become more of yourself not Harry Potter.
  
  KEN
  By your own words you shall be condemned.
  
  CLARENCE
  I didn"t mean that.
  
  KEN
  Why then do I not feel like an insignificant copy of some insignificant Clarence of some insignificant desert town at the end of the world?
  
  CLARENCE
  (grins)
  Well, that"s because either you are most likely crazy or tomorrow you"ll start raising funds for your secret society or selling something cheap at high prices, or the least probable you are telling the truth and you"re really a chosen one, sage, messiah, prophet or whatever you wanna call your social status.
  
  KEN
  But at heart you do know who I am.
  
  CLARENCE
  It"s very easy to get fooled by your heart because at heart everybody wants to believe in a miracle, a fantastic revelation, it"s almost like a biological need of the sapiens. Most people would give anything to fill their lives with some divine eternal sense and lay off their fears and doubts especially in the town like ours. This con is as old as the world, I don"t know, maybe you"re trying to pull it here.
  
  KEN
  I didn"t come here to make you believe or prove you anything. I came simply to tell you the truth, that"s all my mission. I"m already pretty much through it.
  
  CLARENCE
  But how do we know that it"s truth?
  
  KEN
  All other people in the world would be right in your place but you can"t help knowing it because we have one soul.
  
  CLARENCE
  Well, it"s a clever explanation... Can you tell us how it happened that there are no other souls in this town?
  
  KEN
  I hated people from the start... If one becomes the captain of a prison ship it doesn"t say much about his good nature, right? I wanted to have my own kingdom with my own castle where I would be left alone - my wish came true. I was left alone to get to know myself better.
  
  CLARENCE
  So when spouses or lovers make love, technically you just make love to yourself, fall in love with yourself, get conceived and born by yourself? Are there no real men and women, parents and children, all just one person?! It"s a madhouse!
  
  KEN
  Not one person, persons are different, the soul is one and it holds no property of sex or any other property of a body: you will be either what you want or what you deserve. You know, it is said "man joins his wife and they become one flesh" in our case it"s just a bit too true. What do many parents want? - they want their kids to be like them, to follow in their steps, don"t they? They get what they want in this town: their kids are them. You have touched the very heart of the sorest problem of this place: there is very little love. If we loved, tolerated and welcomed people unconditionally especially those who are better than us then we would let other souls into our lives. Did you not tell me right now, Clarence, that you feel like an insignificant copy of a man? It doesn"t sound like you love yourself too much and it doesn"t seem you have been shown much love and respect by the residents of this town in spite even of you all being one soul. If you, people, make yourselves feel insignificant in your own town how would you love people of any other town?
  
  CLARENCE
  Why do you keep saying that I feel insignificant? I said I would have felt insignificant if I had been a copy of you.
  
  KEN
  I told you that you were not a copy of me, I said you are me.
  
  CLARENCE
  I don"t want to be you! I want to be myself!
  
  KEN
  Had you been yourself until we met?
  
  CLARENCE
  Yes.
  
  KEN
  Luckily you think I am crazy or you would accuse me of identity theft.
  
  CLARENCE
  I.., I can"t talk to you, man... OK, let"s say we are one, what do you suggest: should we give you all our property, leave the town for good, mate with other souls?
  
  KEN
  (laughs bitterly)
  If we let on that I am right we also would have to let on that you feel insignificant and are unable to be yourself. If you feel insignificant in this little town, imagine, how many thousand times more insignificant you are going to feel in Sydney, London or New-York, how much more alienated, frustrated, angered you will become. And what are you going to give those other souls in those cities your love or your hate?
  
  CLARENCE
  Then what you want, I don"t understand?
  
  KEN
  I want you to put down all your fears and doubts and feel significant and love yourselves, and be yourselves, because each of you is a link in the chain of a diamond necklace: if you break, the necklace is lost.
  
  CLARENCE
  Says the diamond, people.
  
  KEN
  I don"t conceal that, I am the last of us, as you may have guessed already. I will not be born again in this world, the school is over.
  
  CLARENCE
  I hope it"s not a new kind of recreation for big world people to pick some remote backward town and brag there about what perfect beings they are?
  
  KEN
  I am you, you are perfect beings I thought you would be glad to know that.
  
  CLARENCE
  Sorry, it keeps slipping from my mind. Well, if we are you, may we travel to Sydney, stay at your place, borrow your car, use your bank account? Besides, if you are graduating from earth you won"t need all this stuff up there anyway.
  
  KEN
  I"ve already divided my money among a few people in this town who, I thought, needed it most. Unfortunately I can"t welcome you at my place because I rented it.
  
  CLARENCE
  So you"re hundred percent absolutely serious about all this.. and you aren"t crazy?
  
  KEN
  I mean every word and I am not crazy.
  
  CLARENCE
  Are your parents from this town?
  
  KEN
  No. They are different souls.
  
  CLARENCE
  Where are they now?
  
  KEN
  My mother is in Sydney and my father died at sea when I was fifteen.
  
  CLARENCE
  Do you have a wife or a girlfriend?
  
  KEN
  No.
  
  CLARENCE
  Does your mother know about this theory of yours?
  
  KEN
  I didn"t tell her much, she is not a part of it. It would scare her... Now I think, maybe, I should tell her more.
  
  CLARENCE
  But you didn"t think that it would scare people of this town?
  
  KEN
  I had no choice.
  
  CLARENCE
  Don"t you think that this inside information that you give, if anyone should believe it, would estrange children from their parents and it would certainly estrange lovers.
  
  KEN
  No. How people can be estranged from each other by learning that they are one? The point is that they are estranged.
  
  CLARENCE
  (looks through the chat on his laptop)
  OK... A question from our viewer. The lady, I won"t tell her nickname, asks, "What do I have to do to be born in a good looking healthy white man"s body in the next life?" Very practical, isn"t she?
  
  KEN
  There are three categories of people: those who hate what other people are and blindly over pleased with themselves and their ways; those who displeased with themselves and wish to be other people, whom they don"t love and often despise as well but whose position in the world they find lucrative and enjoyable. And those who are in the middle. In order to be what you want you have to love what you are, because out of dislike nothing good can grow, especially when you dislike yourself.
  
  CLARENCE
  (laughs)
  But if you love what you are, you can"t possibly want to be somebody else, can you?!
  
  KEN
  Yes. You will want something more important in life than a different sex, skin and good looks, and then you will have a sex, skin, and good looks which will help you to realize your dreams.
  
  CLARENCE
  I can"t deny it"s a wise thing to say to many of us. Personally I am, as an amateur youtuber, interested in what is going to become of haters.
  
  KEN
  Usually they become those whom they hated or wronged the most: men become women, the white become the black, heterosexuals become homosexuals and vice versa.
  
  CLARENCE
  In short, a man reaps what he sows.
  
  KEN
  It"s not strictly that; mostly it all depends on ability to feel remorse. Like in Harry Potter, it was very true that Voldemort could actually redeem his soul through remorse. All hatred and intolerance come from inability and presumptuous refusal to put oneself in the place of another. The school of life is here to widen souls" spectrum of feelings and imagination so that one day it would encompass all characters.
  
  CLARENCE
  What if I tolerate everybody and haven"t done anything wrong as far as I can remember? Though I am from the stolen generation, I never felt hatred to white people. And I"d been pleased with myself at least until you told me that I still had to grow to a good looking white man.
  
  KEN
  Most people in this town like everywhere on earth are ordinary law-abiding middle class citizens, reasonably pleased with themselves, doing nothing wrong, wishing no evil to others, living quietly, minding their own business.
  (pauses)
  As you know there is the theory that the last shall be first and the first last. But what about those middle class people, these silent iron souls? - They"ll stand where they are! They don"t change, their good old reasonable tempered majority has been staying the same throughout all human history or I better put it outside human history. Take any class at school for example: there are thirty students and among them some ten usual characters like outsiders, bullies, beauties, smarties - all whom you still remember ten years after you finished school. What about the twenty others? - They constitute the silent and invisible, minding its own business, law-abiding majority. They kept silent when the bullies were beating an outsider, when Jesus was crucified, when the church hunted witches, when Hitler exterminated Jews, when Stalin exterminated his own people. They didn"t like it, they voted against it at heart, bombs were showering on their heads and they burned in nuclear fire but they"ve kept silent, been reasonable, law-abiding, minded their own business.
  
  CLARENCE
  Is it so bad to be law-abiding?
  
  KEN
  Law is fear. In a law abiding society any crime can be legalized. Souls may spend thousand lives living in fear and doubt, unable to make up their minds on what is right and wrong and to take each one"s own course defying all consequences, instead they take pride in this self-imposed virtue of being law-abiding.
  
  CLARENCE
  What if a man wants to kill his neighbour and doesn"t do it only because he"s afraid of the law?
  
  KEN
  The neighbor"s life gets saved.
  
  CLARENCE
  Is it bad?
  
  MR. BRACKETT
  The neighbor"s life won"t get saved, Clarence.
  
  KEN
  Dan, please... You see, Clarence, law would make any sense if we had a set of rules saying how to behave in order not to get killed, not to get robed, not to get deprived of human rights and everybody agreed to follow them. But when bullies have been abusing and beaten up someone like Ira Kelly for years and one day he takes his father"s gun to school, it"s not something what the current law can prevent, is it?
  
  CLARENCE
  What are you talking about? Kelly just went mad on his own, it"s a proven fact, he was sick, there was a cyst in his brain or something, you are his doc, you say, you should have known best! There was an investigation, a group of detectives and psychiatrists came from Queensland, they interrogated the whole town for a week, none, none, right dad, none testified that Kelly was bullied!
  
  KEN
  The law-abiding majority, eh? Unfortunately in this town the majority is not two thirds of the residents, it"s ninety nine percent.
  
  CLARENCE
  What if you"re just lying so as to impress us, making things up to make us believe you!? Can you prove any of your words? Can you tell the names of the bullies at least?
  
  KEN
  You forget again: we all are those bullies and we all are Kelly, we don"t need to be told anything what can only harm ourselves and bring no good to the soul.
  
  CLARENCE
  How I"m tired of this nonsense! If you don"t give any proof I consider you lying, that"s all.
  
  KEN
  There is nothing harder in this world for a soul than to get over the limbo of majority.
  
  CLARENCE
  Whatever you say...
  (looks through the chat, reads out comments)
  "Kelly was called slow-witted at primary school by everybody including some teachers. Does it count as bullying?" "Kelly was bullied, witness." "Bastards got what they deserved, they bullied me too." "Kelly is a hero."
  (leans back in his chair, in a gesture of despair covers his eyes with his hands)
  What"s wrong with you people!? Why are you telling it now anonymously!? Why didn"t you tell all this to the commission!? Why you kept silent...
  (scrolls through the chat, reads out new comments)
  "Clarence, are you playing stupid or what? Howard Hills junior was the chief bully at school, his father paid off the witnesses, everybody knows that." Ha-ha! Obviously I am stupid!
  
  KEN
  Listen, everybody, we will continue our talk tomorrow or any other day. Every day at noon I"ll be standing by Kenneth Hills"s column in the main square, please, come and ask questions.
  
  CLARENCE
  Wait, are we done? There are many questions now?
  
  KEN
  Oh, yes, we done!
  
  (The power goes out.)
  
  CLARENCE
  (jumps up)
  What is it!? Ha! Are they crazy?! This is the company"s property, they can"t turn me off! This is all our communications!
  
  KEN
  Welcome to the city of Ken!
  
  CLARENCE
  You knew that it would happen, did you? How did you know!?
  
  KEN
  Please, don"t assign it to my superpowers. Anyone who knew psychology of men would expect it.
  
  CLARENCE
  You actually were telling the truth, weren"t you?
  
  KEN
  If you say so.
  
  (The SENIOR CONSTABLE contacts CLARENCE on his service walkie-talkie.)
  
  CONSTABLE
  Clarence, it"s sergeant Platt, pick up. I know it"s your frequency.
  
  CLARENCE
  (picks up the walkie-talkie)
  Are you out of your mind, sergeant, you shut down the whole tower!
  
  CONSTABLE
  I don"t know what you"re talking about. Give the phone to your new friend there.
  
  (CLARENCE gives the walkie-talkie to KEN.)
  
  KEN
  Hello, it"s me.
  
  CONSTABLE
  Thanks for your help with Kelly. Listen to me carefully, now you go out of that station office, a police car is waiting for you outside, you get in that car and my ranger will take you to your bike. He"ll give you as much gas as you can carry and you will ride straight back to where you came from, understood?
  
  KEN
  Well, go on.
  
  CONSTABLE
  We have here a quiet peaceful town. I don"t want you to turn over the long gone and dead past and trouble my citizens with your crazy ideas about souls, hell and heaven. We live here a nice clean good life much better than in many other big places and I want you to leave us alone, understood?
  
  KEN
  Leave you alone? You still want to be alone like Kenneth Hills, still want your own little kingdom, two hundred years, aren"t you fed up with it?
  
  CONSTABLE
  You know, boy, when you entered the city you saw the sign? - there is a very, very, very big desert out there, so you better think good, take that gas and leave while you can. If you are an adequate person you"ll do as I say.
  
  KEN
  I"m going out, you may turn the power on.
  (gives the walkie-talkie back to CLARENCE, gets up)
  
  CLARENCE
  (to the CONSTABLE)
  I will report your actions as sabotage, constable.
  
  CONSTABLE
  What actions? One call from me to your boss in Queensland and you"ll be fired for sending false alarm messages. That was sabotage. You think somebody"s gonna miss you here? Your show"s over, go home now or it will be your last day at work.
  
  (CLARENCE throws the walkie-talkie on the table. The power comes back.)
  
  CLARENCE
  (to KEN)
  Come on, sit down, we will continue. The hell I will keep silent. We"ll tell everybody what"s he doing!
  
  KEN
  I said everything I wanted. Don"t hate him, he is you.
  
  CLARENCE
  You insult me.
  
  KEN
  So did Darwin when he said that we descended from the apes.
  
  CLARENCE
  Wait, don"t leave. I have so many questions!
  
  KEN
  Ask. What questions?
  
  CLARENCE
  (confused)
  Ehh... I can"t... I"m just so confused.
  
  KEN
  Well, sort it out and ask tomorrow.
  
  MR. BRACKETT
  Stay with us.
  
  KEN
  No. I"ve already brought you enough trouble.
  
  CLARENCE
  Let them fire me, I don"t care. I"m well out of their majority.
  
  KEN
  Be prepared, one of these days they will catch you and beat you up.
  
  CLARENCE
  Why? How do you know that?.. What, you wanna tell me you actually remember all my life?!.. What, you actually remember all these people"s lives!!?
  (jumps up)
  You"ve actually been in Heaven!!!!?
  
  KEN
  I was born with the knowledge but most of the lives I don"t remember.
  
  CLARENCE
  So you know how I"m going to die, whether I"ll get married or not, who my kids will be and how they will die? And what if I don"t want my kids to be me? What if I don"t want my wife to be me?
  
  KEN
  I think you know enough to have what you want.
  
  CLARENCE
  Can you tell me at least what I should do to prevent the beating?
  
  KEN
  No, you will take the beating.
  
  CLARENCE
  Thanks... What if I buy a gun or leave town?
  
  KEN
  Just now I said if we had a set of rules how to behave in order not to get killed, robbed and deprived of human rights... I forgot to add that we had such a rule: never act out of cowardice. Goodbye.
  
  (KEN leaves.)
  
  END OF SCENE
  
  
  Scene 2
  
  SETTING: Night. Outside the communications station. The station is set at the end of a woody drive bordered by a row of residential houses on each side. A few houses away from the station parked a police car across the drive.
  AT RISE: KEN goes out of the station followed by DAN BRACKETT. JUDY NELSON in a simple white dress and a shawl waits for KEN outside. INHABITANTS of the houses stand in their driveways watching the scene with confronting emotions vividly expressed on their faces. BIL CROCKER, fully armed, waist for KEN by the car.
  
  JUDY
  (comes up to KEN and embraces him)
  Thank you very much for saving us from this lunatic Kelly.
  (to MR. BRACKETT)
  Hi, Mr. Brackett.
  
  BRACKET
  Hi, Judy.
  
  JUDY
  (casts a fearful glance at the police, to KEN)
  I don"t know why the police is here. I"ve watched your speech. I don"t know what to say, it"s all very confusing. Do you have a place to stay?
  
  KEN
  No.
  
  JUDY
  We have no motel or any guest house here. You were right, this town doesn"t like visitors. Ha-ha! So.., I and my husband invite you to stay with us as long as you want. Would you..?
  
  KEN
  OK, if it"s not a problem, I"ll be your guest.
  
  JUDY
  Let"s go then, it"s not far, we can walk.., but you probably know...
  
  (KEN, JUDY and DAN go up the driveway to the police car. Some of the spectators clap their hands approvingly to KEN, some on the contrary look angered.)
  
  RESIDENT 1
  Hi, soul brother! Remember me?!
  
  KEN
  (looking at the RESIDENT 1)
  No, I don"t remember you.
  
  RESIDENT 1
  You said you lived my life and don"t remember me!?
  
  KEN
  I"m sorry, I don"t remember you.
  
  RESIDENT 1
  Maybe, you remember Judy. We all die to know here with how many boys she"s slept!
  
  CROCKER
  (comes forward, to the RESIDENT 1)
  Shut up, Dick!
  
  RESIDENT 1
  What, officer, afraid your wife may learn something?.. Don"t listen to this blabber, people, typical con!
  (goes back to his house)
  
  RESIDENT 2
  (to RESIDENT 1)
  Do you yourself remember, Dick, your life before yesterday?
  
  RESIDENT 1
  (turns back)
  No, that"s why I ask!
  (laughs loudly, goes inside the house)
  
  (KEN, JUDY and DAN pass by the police car.)
  
  CROCKER
  (to KEN)
  Hey, aren"t you riding with me to your bike?
  
  KEN
  No. Tell the sergeant, he misunderstood me. I came to stay here.
  
  CROCKER
  (confused)
  What about your bike?
  
  KEN
  I don"t need it anymore.
  
  (KEN, JUDY and DAN leave.)
   END OF ACT
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