(A man is sitting alone at a table. He occasionally glances over at the wall to his left, muttering incoherently under his breath. Every few minutes or so, he drunkenly reaches for the whiskey bottle and ensures his glass is filled to the rim, but pays less attention to the golden brown droplets of spirit accumulating what looks like a “ring of fire” on the table. After emptying his glass, he staggers over to the corner of the room and removes the vinyl record of Johnny Cash’s “I Walk the Line” from the gramophone. He then sways back to his vacant chair, singing light – heartedly the hook of the song which he had just listened to. Silence. Brandishing the cross on the rosary beads hanging from his neck, he begins making the sign of the cross as he is praying.)
Noel: (In a drunken slur.) The Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit. Answer me. (Turns to the painting of Jesus hanging on the bare white walls and points an accusing finger.) Reasons. It’s all I want. (Pause) And you call yourself Jesus . . . It looks like the Power of God, the Root of David is lacking answers. You know what, I’ve always wondered why, why people, ordinary people, have flocked to these places you call churches for hundreds of years? They’re not talking to God. No one has done and no one ever will.
(Juliet walks in on stage right and grabs a chair facing Noel at the far end of the table. She is holding a small wooden crucifix in her right hand. Noel ignores her and carries on talking.)
So what? I blaspheme. But only when I have a drink in my hand. (Waves the glass around enough to topple a little more whiskey onto the table.) Only when the demons in the whiskey take over my conscience. (Taps his head with his index finger.) I’m patient. I’ll wait. Or am I not worthy of your wisdom, Jesus? Am I too much of a heathen to be given the answers I’ve searched for my whole life? I must be a sinner. I must be. In the eyes of you, Jesus. But, in my eyes, I have done what any father would have done for their wife and child. You’re just too ignorant to see it. Ignorant. Ignorant. (He begins crying with his head in his hands. Juliet remains in her seat, surveying Noel.)
Juliet: I admire you.
Noel: (Recovers) That’s the best compliment you’ve ever paid me. (Smiles solemnly.) Even during our marriage, you never said why you stuck by me. You were just there. Never faltering. Healing my sores and relieving my pain. Making every day more bearable. I don’t think I ever said how much I appreciated your persistence. Your compassion. I suppose that’s what made you do it. That’s what made you end it all. Because I couldn’t buck up my ideas and be a man for once in my pathetic little life.
Juliet: What an understatement, Noel. What you went through doesn’t require you “bucking up your ideas”. It takes time and whole lot of strength. And you’re the living proof of that time. That strength. I didn’t make it. And the only very few times I felt strongest was when I was drugged up to the eyeballs with anti – depressants. The legitimate drug that’s just as bad as whatever drugs you get nowadays. That’s not strength. It’s the complete opposite. Weakness. But, against all the odds. You didn’t give up. You kept on going. And I’ve never met a man who can talk so much sense with a whole bottle of whiskey down them. (Laughs)
Noel: You call this “keeping on going?" I will do absolutely anything for a drop of this stuff. (Points to the whiskey bottle.) I am dependent. I am an alcoholic. Some nights, I get cold turkey. The agony is close to breaking – point.
Juliet: But, you haven’t “broken” yet, have you? You haven’t yet claimed the right to have your remains turned into ash, or your identity demoted to a few words on a gravestone. Like I have. You have been granted that second chance in life.
Noel: What if I don’t want that second chance?
Juliet: It’s your decision. Come with me. Or keep on fighting. I know which one I would choose.
Noel: Then why didn’t you choose it? Why aren’t I the one in that seat now?
Juliet: We both know why. I failed you before you failed me.
Noel: Yet, I still ended up failing you. I put too much on you. I made your problems worse. But you made mine better. I feel it’s now my time to repay you.
Juliet: If you loved me that much; if you loved Jesus that much - (Clasps the wooden crucifix in her hand.) you wouldn’t do this.
Noel: I love you too much. I love Jesus too little. The reason why I want to do it.
Noel: (In a drunken slur.) The Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit. Answer me. (Turns to the painting of Jesus hanging on the bare white walls and points an accusing finger.) Reasons. It’s all I want. (Pause) And you call yourself Jesus . . . It looks like the Power of God, the Root of David is lacking answers. You know what, I’ve always wondered why, why people, ordinary people, have flocked to these places you call churches for hundreds of years? They’re not talking to God. No one has done and no one ever will.
(Juliet walks in on stage right and grabs a chair facing Noel at the far end of the table. She is holding a small wooden crucifix in her right hand. Noel ignores her and carries on talking.)
So what? I blaspheme. But only when I have a drink in my hand. (Waves the glass around enough to topple a little more whiskey onto the table.) Only when the demons in the whiskey take over my conscience. (Taps his head with his index finger.) I’m patient. I’ll wait. Or am I not worthy of your wisdom, Jesus? Am I too much of a heathen to be given the answers I’ve searched for my whole life? I must be a sinner. I must be. In the eyes of you, Jesus. But, in my eyes, I have done what any father would have done for their wife and child. You’re just too ignorant to see it. Ignorant. Ignorant. (He begins crying with his head in his hands. Juliet remains in her seat, surveying Noel.)
Juliet: I admire you.
Noel: (Recovers) That’s the best compliment you’ve ever paid me. (Smiles solemnly.) Even during our marriage, you never said why you stuck by me. You were just there. Never faltering. Healing my sores and relieving my pain. Making every day more bearable. I don’t think I ever said how much I appreciated your persistence. Your compassion. I suppose that’s what made you do it. That’s what made you end it all. Because I couldn’t buck up my ideas and be a man for once in my pathetic little life.
Juliet: What an understatement, Noel. What you went through doesn’t require you “bucking up your ideas”. It takes time and whole lot of strength. And you’re the living proof of that time. That strength. I didn’t make it. And the only very few times I felt strongest was when I was drugged up to the eyeballs with anti – depressants. The legitimate drug that’s just as bad as whatever drugs you get nowadays. That’s not strength. It’s the complete opposite. Weakness. But, against all the odds. You didn’t give up. You kept on going. And I’ve never met a man who can talk so much sense with a whole bottle of whiskey down them. (Laughs)
Noel: You call this “keeping on going?" I will do absolutely anything for a drop of this stuff. (Points to the whiskey bottle.) I am dependent. I am an alcoholic. Some nights, I get cold turkey. The agony is close to breaking – point.
Juliet: But, you haven’t “broken” yet, have you? You haven’t yet claimed the right to have your remains turned into ash, or your identity demoted to a few words on a gravestone. Like I have. You have been granted that second chance in life.
Noel: What if I don’t want that second chance?
Juliet: It’s your decision. Come with me. Or keep on fighting. I know which one I would choose.
Noel: Then why didn’t you choose it? Why aren’t I the one in that seat now?
Juliet: We both know why. I failed you before you failed me.
Noel: Yet, I still ended up failing you. I put too much on you. I made your problems worse. But you made mine better. I feel it’s now my time to repay you.
Juliet: If you loved me that much; if you loved Jesus that much - (Clasps the wooden crucifix in her hand.) you wouldn’t do this.
Noel: I love you too much. I love Jesus too little. The reason why I want to do it.
