Down! (
Down
goes the brush.) Up! (Up goes the brush.) Down!
NARRATOR,
casually.
Another rubber band snapped.
BETH, shouting. Are you crazy? Are you absolutely crazy!?
NARRATOR. Jim started to echo again.
JIM. Are you crazy? (And up goes the brush.) Are you
abs
olutely
cr
azy?! (
And down goes the brush, spreading
paint all over the wall.)
NARRATOR. A door slammed shut. Beth was gone. About two seconds later, the door opened with a jolt and Beth was striding in with shoe polish in her hand. She started to smear the shoe polish all over the other wall.
BETH, shouting. What about that ... eh? What about that!
At this moment the scene cuts with a black flash and
we are hovering over the ocean. The elastic surface
reflects gray-green patterns, the way it does on
cloudy summer days. The song “Blanket” by Imogen
Heap with Urban Species starts to play. It gives the
cloudy weather something snug. The credits continue to roll.
We keep looking at the surface of the water. After
a while some single raindrops start to hit. Then the
rain gets a little heavier.
The camera starts to move now, floating over the
water. Gradually the rain ceases.
After a moment—a moment long enough to
make us forget the first scene, and long enough for us
to get caught up in the peacefulness of the music and
the ocean—the camera starts to level up and we can
see the horizon. In front of us is a small island. We
are heading toward it.
We float for some time along the sandy shoreline,
with the cloudy horizon to the left. Then we spot two
people on the shore. We float a little closer to them.
part one
1.
“I don’t know,” said Lou, lying on his back in the sand. “And in a way, I don’t even care.”
Liz was looking toward the ocean. She was sitting right next to Lou in the sand. It was a special sitting position she had, with her arms closely around her pulled-in legs—the way someone sits to keep warm on a cloudy summer day on the beach. It’s especially recommended if you’re wearing only a dark blue bikini, along with a comfortable gray sweater with a hood. The way she looked at the ocean was the way a small girl would, safely at her mother’s side after she had just seen a young bird lying dead on the curbstone. She had glassy eyes and there was something dreamy about them.
“It looks like rain again,” she said.
“I don’t care,” came from the body to her right. “Rain is beauty.”
“You’re crazy,” she said, and shivered a little, pulling her naked legs a little closer.
“I’m not.”
“You definitely are.”
“I’m not,” Lou said. “I’m just a misunderstood Chinese intellectual.”
“You’re not,” Liz said, pulling her shoulders up a little. It brought the hood of her sweater a little closer around her neck. “You’re American.”
Lou kept looking toward the sky for a moment. Then he said, “What are you?”
“What do you mean?”
“How would you describe yourself if you had to?”
“I’m me.”
“You’re boring,” said Lou, and shook his head methodically from side to side, shaping the mold in the sand a little deeper. “Try it—try to tag a label on yourself. It isn’t that easy,” he challenged. Then he added, “You know, just for fun.”
Liz didn’t answer. She was looking toward the sea.
Lou raised his head a little to see what she was doing.
The wind blew a strand of hair over her face. She brushed it away.
Lou observed it with interest, kept his head suspended for a moment, then lowered it back to the sand.
“I’m the only normal person in the world,” she finally said.
“
Ha!
That’s great!” Lou smiled toward the clouds. “That’s certainly a be—”
He started.
Distant thunder had interrupted his pleasure. He sat up to look at the big black cloud over the ocean. After a moment he lowered himself back into the sand. “Did you know that I kind of like it here?”
Liz seemed to be listening but didn’t say anything.
“I like it here because
Down
goes the brush.) Up! (Up goes the brush.) Down!
NARRATOR,
casually.
Another rubber band snapped.
BETH, shouting. Are you crazy? Are you absolutely crazy!?
NARRATOR. Jim started to echo again.
JIM. Are you crazy? (And up goes the brush.) Are you
abs
olutely
cr
azy?! (
And down goes the brush, spreading
paint all over the wall.)
NARRATOR. A door slammed shut. Beth was gone. About two seconds later, the door opened with a jolt and Beth was striding in with shoe polish in her hand. She started to smear the shoe polish all over the other wall.
BETH, shouting. What about that ... eh? What about that!
At this moment the scene cuts with a black flash and
we are hovering over the ocean. The elastic surface
reflects gray-green patterns, the way it does on
cloudy summer days. The song “Blanket” by Imogen
Heap with Urban Species starts to play. It gives the
cloudy weather something snug. The credits continue to roll.
We keep looking at the surface of the water. After
a while some single raindrops start to hit. Then the
rain gets a little heavier.
The camera starts to move now, floating over the
water. Gradually the rain ceases.
After a moment—a moment long enough to
make us forget the first scene, and long enough for us
to get caught up in the peacefulness of the music and
the ocean—the camera starts to level up and we can
see the horizon. In front of us is a small island. We
are heading toward it.
We float for some time along the sandy shoreline,
with the cloudy horizon to the left. Then we spot two
people on the shore. We float a little closer to them.
part one
1.
“I don’t know,” said Lou, lying on his back in the sand. “And in a way, I don’t even care.”
Liz was looking toward the ocean. She was sitting right next to Lou in the sand. It was a special sitting position she had, with her arms closely around her pulled-in legs—the way someone sits to keep warm on a cloudy summer day on the beach. It’s especially recommended if you’re wearing only a dark blue bikini, along with a comfortable gray sweater with a hood. The way she looked at the ocean was the way a small girl would, safely at her mother’s side after she had just seen a young bird lying dead on the curbstone. She had glassy eyes and there was something dreamy about them.
“It looks like rain again,” she said.
“I don’t care,” came from the body to her right. “Rain is beauty.”
“You’re crazy,” she said, and shivered a little, pulling her naked legs a little closer.
“I’m not.”
“You definitely are.”
“I’m not,” Lou said. “I’m just a misunderstood Chinese intellectual.”
“You’re not,” Liz said, pulling her shoulders up a little. It brought the hood of her sweater a little closer around her neck. “You’re American.”
Lou kept looking toward the sky for a moment. Then he said, “What are you?”
“What do you mean?”
“How would you describe yourself if you had to?”
“I’m me.”
“You’re boring,” said Lou, and shook his head methodically from side to side, shaping the mold in the sand a little deeper. “Try it—try to tag a label on yourself. It isn’t that easy,” he challenged. Then he added, “You know, just for fun.”
Liz didn’t answer. She was looking toward the sea.
Lou raised his head a little to see what she was doing.
The wind blew a strand of hair over her face. She brushed it away.
Lou observed it with interest, kept his head suspended for a moment, then lowered it back to the sand.
“I’m the only normal person in the world,” she finally said.
“
Ha!
That’s great!” Lou smiled toward the clouds. “That’s certainly a be—”
He started.
Distant thunder had interrupted his pleasure. He sat up to look at the big black cloud over the ocean. After a moment he lowered himself back into the sand. “Did you know that I kind of like it here?”
Liz seemed to be listening but didn’t say anything.
“I like it here because
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