| Jack: | An old, grizzled pirate. |
| Finn: | A young deckhand on his first trip. |
I-1-1
| SETTING: | The deck of a ship. |
| AT RISE: | FINN is center stage swabbing (mopping) the floor slowly. JACK enters with two cheap glass bottles of rum. |
Captain's retired to quarters. You be the new deckhand I reckon?
Yessir. Finn.
I be Jack. Been on this wreck of a ship for many a moon.
Fine to meet you sir. Thank you for the rum.
No need for land-lubbing niceness around me, boy. I be Jack. You be Finn. Only niceness on this here ship is you don't go falling overboard and you never, ever tell the cook what you think of his slop. So now, we be keeping night watch and having a sip of God's sweet rum to keep our bellies warm.
I-1-2
How many a moon?
What's that?
You've been here for many a moon.
Ah, yes. My hearing ain't been the same since I worked the cannons. How many moons? (Thinks) I can't quite place it.
The moon there. Full as can be. I remember the first time I saw it from this here deck when I was a scrawny little fool no older that you there.
I am old enough. Fourteen. More than old enough.
Aye. Practically a man. I was myself. Probably right there with a swab in hand. Li came over. A China man. Old as the sea himself, but a strong pirate. He could wrestle a kraken. Wouldn't be a bit suprised if he done did.
He shared rum with you?
I-1-3
No. Hell no. He were dead opposed to sharing his spirits. He drank and drank and spoke of what he called poems from his home.
Do you remember any?
Not the words. No. But, the meaning. Yes. Like the moon there. He would toast the moon and tell it that he is lost here in the black see with no loved ones near.
Drink with me moon. You. Me. (motioning behind him) The shadow you give me. We be three. Three companions on the sea. Moon. Shadow. Me.
That be Li. I have to say that I tend to agree.
It does make you think.
Think? Thinking ain't for us. I am just being.
I-1-4
Out here. Look around. (Motions to his left) The sea. (Motions to his right) The sea. (Makes a sweeping motion towards the audience) The sea. What are we adrift in this wide empty sea.
I often feel a bit that way. We be drifting. No rudder. No map. Just aimlessly afloat on life's big sea...(changes his mind) No. On life's big puddle.
I joined the crew because I can't shake the feeling that maybe we are the puddle, Jack.
A puddle with boots? (Thinks and drinks) That does make plenty sense, my boy. No wonder me socks always be soggy.
I watch people and I can't break the thinking. I see the sea, less a puddle, trying to put on boots and walk upright.
Explains a lot, why we can barely walk as a tot and why we tend to stumble and fall after just a bit of drink. Then, when we be thoroughly soaked with age, we tend to splash out flat on the deck.
I-1-5
So, I kept thinking. If we are the sea, shouldn't we know where we are going? That's why I'm here. I need the sea to be me lighthouse and show me the way.
The lighthouse is there to keep you away.
Then, show me the way away from the lighthouse. I just need the sea to step up and be a guide.
What makes ye think the sea knows where it's going? It just keeps sloshing around to avoid wondering about it. No plans. Just being.
I worry there will be no answers for me.
Answers? This is the sea. There ain't an answer to anything under these stars.
Have you ever wondered what be beyond them stars?
I-1-6
Beyond? Heaven? Hell? Some big treasure chest just waiting for us? Likely be more stars if I reckon.
I think the stars are just there to let us know that the empty space isn't so empty.
You've been drinking more than just rum, ain't you?
Can I ask? You ever regret it?
Regret all this?
You could have been a farmer. You could have been married to a beautiful woman who made you so happy with just a smile. Kids. You could have had kids, ones you actually know about, ones who hop on your knee and listen to your stories.
(Interrupting) Enough. I ain't got no regret. No real ones anyways.
Unreal regrets?
I-1-7
I dream. I dream there's a door. I can see light coming from behind it. Light and warmth. It is right there, shut in front of me. Then, I wake. I always wake. I never open it.
Maybe that's the point. It isn't that you open it. It is just you, there, at the door.
Or, maybe it is already open and we're just too drunk to see it.
Maybe the deck here is the door. Or the sky. The stars are just the light of lost dreams a-twinkling down on us.
Ye be a strange pirate, Finn, but I do like the way you think.
That means a lot to me, Jack. I do respect how you relate to being here. You. The sea. (Motions up) The moon. Drifting along, waiting to finally meet mister death.
Mister death? Ah, We've met.
I-1-8
You be serious?
Serious as a monkey on a poop deck in a hurricane. I hear him on the wind. "Your time has come" he says. "Step through the door and leave this mortal voyage behind."
What did you do?
I asked him if there be any better rum on the other side.
Is there?
No answer. We met. Face to his goat skull face. He looked me up and down and said, "Sorry. Wrong ship." Then, he be off in the wind.
That explains a lot.
Yep. That explains a lot. A lot of what though?
I-1-9
The goat. Death. Just as man herds the goats in live, the goat herds the men in death.
I do like how yer brain works, Finn. You be a fine addition to our crew.
Back to it. I have the rounds to walk and refills to make. I be back to check on ya in the hour.
I see you moon, looking at me. You willing to help? Even my shadow moves along, helping what it can. The three of us work together and we be done before the sun comes to chase you off.
No? Ah. Fine then. You watch. We swab. All is good. I have many a moon to wait for yer help.