Cain and Dale (An Old Play, Unedited)
Scene I
Howling wind and darkness; the MOON gradually becomes visible in the backdrop. The shuffling of feet is heard, and the sound of a bell ringing as a door opens. It snaps closed, and the wind dies. A chair is heard pulling out, then sliding in. More shuffling, followed by plastic bending and flapping.
DALE
(nervously) Hi, yeah, I’m ready. I’ll have the, uhh, minced mutton and eggs. Paper scratching, then the sound of something bending.
DALE (cont.)
Oh, I have a choice? I thought it said— Uh… (quickly) Overeasy.
Plastic flapping, then clinking.
DALE (cont.)
Water’d be nice. Thank you.
Lights go up on DALE, who is sitting alone in a diner booth. Light, late 80s yacht rock fills the room. He is dressed in extremely formal attire; his overcoat is on the back of his wooden chair and his dress suit is unbuttoned; he is covered in dirt and grime. He puts his head in his hands on the table, rubbing his face.
DALE
(whispering, psyched out) What am I gonna do?
MOON
Worry not, Dale. The worst of it is over.
DALE looks at the MOON with a wry smile, pulling his hands away from his face.
DALE
(catatonic) Worried? Not at all. You’re right. I’m doing peachy. I’m feeling swell, in fact. My night’s going perfect. How are you doing?
Squeaking is heard (R.), and DALE turns to face it. He grabs a plate and fork from the dark, and sets them down in front of him.
DALE (cont.)
Thanks, you too— I mean— (grumbling) Nevermind.
He pokes at his invisible eggs with a fork, before shoveling it into his mouth. The yacht rock begins to grow quieter. The MOON chuckles softly.
MOON
By my hope, I ask you. Do not surrender your hope.
DALE sighs; shuffling is heard (R.), and he grabs a cup of water from the darkness.
DALE
Thanks, you too— I mean—
MOON
(sternly) Dale.
DALE
Sorry, yeah? Yes?
MOON
If I wanted to even the dunes of a desert, I would not be able to. But, over the years, the wind will flatten the plains in time. Such is life (pause) that we are corrected by unseen forces.
DALE
How can you say that? You affect stuff on Earth all the time— uh, gravity, waves, everything. We’re not the same.
MOON
That is correct, but I too am beholden to older, stranger phenomena. I am struck by meteorites from the far reaches of space. Lunar dust storms leave jagged scars across my craters. Pieces of my body will flake and fall in many directions. When I first entered your planet’s orbit, I was much larger than I am now. Ultimately, I am as powerless as you in some ways, and as powerful in others. DALE
(dismissively) But how am I powerful?
MOON
You seek foreknoweldge, a spiritual answer to your own physicality. That is why you became an astronomer.
Dale nods slowly, trying to hide a smile. The music is now entirely silent.
MOON
But the stars are so high and distant. You, like the many hinterworldly, seek absolution in ascension and neglect your position on Earth. If you reach paradise like you wish, what do you think will matter more? Your inner journey, charting your heart the way you chart stars? Or the impression you leave behind? Think of your server. So lost in your feelings, you are, you cannot see them now, smiling as a strange man talks to the Moon.
DALE freezes up, the stage lights brightening significantly.
MOON
That is how you are powerful like me. What you leave here, in the center of the diner in the center of the desert, will further flatten the canals. You will be conjured the same way they conjure me. That is how you shape the world, unseen.
DALE silently finishes his meal, placing his invisible fork beside his plate. He stares down at the utensils, then pushes them slowly to the side, folding his hands in front of him.
DALE
Even though the really, really far-out stars were always pretty, I think the Moon, or, uh, you, I guess, are one of my favorite space objects. The closest thing our silly little planet had to (stammering) a porchlight. In space, you almost look like (stammering) uh, uh, the—
DALE & MOON
The First Fundamental Light.
DALE
Yeah, like, um, the Apocryphon of John. Yeah.
MOON
John calls this world an imperfect mirror image, does he not? I am paraphrasing, but perhaps we have more in common than you initially suspected.
DALE
(through nervous laughter) Yeah, I guess so. Thank you for being here.
MOON
Naturally.
The sound of squeaking returns, and DALE turns (R.), clumsily handing off his plate to the darkness.
DALE
Thank you, and (bashful pause) sorry. Ha.
DALE grabs his overcoat and begins buttoning his dress suit. He readjusts his hair and glances back up to the MOON. He stands there silently, staring at its light for some time.
DALE
When I go… (anxious pause) Will I still be able to, like, see you? Are you gonna be there?
MOON
I will always try to be.
DALE
Thank you. Goodnight, Moon.
MOON
Goodnight, Dale.
DALE leaves a bundle of cash on the table as the stage lights fade out. After some time, there is shuffling and squeaking, then the sound of a door opening with the ring of a bell. The wind howls in the darkness, as footsteps are heard echoing in the distance. The MOON remains until the sound has ceased entirely, then slowly dims into black.
End of Scene