Chapter Text
Don’t you know that time is not my friend? I’ll fight it to the end.
—Florence Vassy
THE RULES.
1. There are four characters.
2. Each character must tell their story.
3. When the four characters have told their stories, they will vote.
4. Each character must vote for a story. They may vote for their own story.
5. There must be a unanimous vote for one story.
THERE IS ONLY ONE STORY. THERE IS ONLY ONE STORY. THERE IS ONLY ONE STORY. THERE IS ONLY ONE STORY. THERE IS ONLY ONE STORY. THERE IS ONLY ONE STORY. THERE IS ONLY ONE STORY. THERE IS ONLY ONE STORY. THERE IS ONLY ONE STORY. THERE IS ONLY ONE STORY. THERE IS ONLY ONE STORY. THERE IS ONLY ONE STORY.
There are many versions of our story. This is not one of them. The introduction is a suspension between stories. We call it stalemate. It is between dreaming and waking. It is between falling and hitting the ground. It is between jumping and hitting the ground.
More specifically, it’s jumping from a building and realizing you’ll hit the ground.
Endgame would be hitting the ground.
Resignation would have been never jumping.
This is stalemate — it’s between the two.
It's the act of falling.
STALEMATE.
DATE: Unknown. Irrelevant.
TIME: Night. It is always night.
SETTING: The sea is eternal. It stretches as far as the four CHARACTERS can see (and they can see very little, because it is a moonless night). The four float on a little raft. FREDDIE and ANATOLY sit on one end and play chess. FLORENCE and SVETLANA sit on the opposite end and dip their legs in the ocean. The night is calm (as always) and the sea rocks them gently (as always).
FREDDIE mutters a chess move to ANATOLY. ANATOLY does the same. They have no physical board, so they play using their minds and memories. Water flows around SVETLANA’s skirt and FLORENCE’s legs, but they do not get wet.
FLORENCE: How long has it been?
Under the starlight, FLORENCE’s eyes shine. Tears threaten the night. SVETLANA wishes she could kiss them away, but, when in stalemate, wishes die as they are born.
SVETLANA: Not long enough.
She is lying. She can’t bear to tell FLORENCE any differently.
FLORENCE nods. She takes her dry legs out of the water and wraps her arms around them.
FLORENCE: I trust you.
SVETLANA smiles. She doesn’t trust herself.
On the other side of the raft, FREDDIE whispers a move to ANATOLY. ANATOLY is silent for a minute, and then he makes his move. They speak too softly to be heard by anyone except themselves. They repeat this a few more moves, until FREDDIE grimaces.
FREDDIE: You’re cheating.
ANATOLY: There is no point in cheating here, is there?
FREDDIE: Ha! So you admit it. You were cheating before.
ANATOLY: Before? When?
FREDDIE: You know. With the yogurt. What was it? Strawberry, and, uh… blueberry. Twice, I think. Blueberry.
A beat. FREDDIE looks at ANATOLY desperately. He wants confirmation that ANATOLY remembers this. It’s not really about cheating on a game of chess. ANATOLY, however, does not share FREDDIE’s memories.
ANATOLY: I… didn’t? You know I don’t know what you mean.
FREDDIE: Really?
ANATOLY: I don’t. (Another beat. He can tell this is important to FREDDIE.) I’m sorry.
This is not the answer FREDDIE wanted to hear, but he’s heard it a thousand times before. It is disappointing nonetheless. He is someone who has long learned to let silent panic turn into silent poison. The stiffness in his shoulders is obvious even to ANATOLY.
He looks at FREDDIE with concern. But if he wanted to say something to FREDDIE, the moment has passed. Not knowing what to do, ANATOLY restarts the cycle. It’s always easy to turn to familiarity during distress.
ANATOLY: I’m going to tell the story.
He says this to himself, but the others hear.
There is silence. The raft stops creaking. The sea air feels colder. The CHARACTERS appear uneasy, but ANATOLY has an air of determination. FREDDIE, by contrast, is bothered by ANATOLY’s announcement. We can deduce that he used to resist the sharing of stories the most. Over time, however, the four CHARACTERS have accepted that they are in stalemate. It doesn’t stop them from telling their stories over and over. Maybe it’s an act of defiance; maybe they believe their stories will turn out differently this time.
Maybe it’s because they believe, period.
The tensions mounts and mounts and mounts until—
FREDDIE: Do it, then.
It’s unclear whether he finished his game of chess with ANATOLY, but it no longer matters.
(Important note: ANATOLY always tells his story first. We get the impression that this is because he believes he is the protagonist of all stories. This is not true.)
The CHARACTERS prepare themselves for the sharing of stories by sitting so that they are all facing each other. This should feel rehearsed and habitual, as if they have done this a thousand times. They have, in fact, done this a thousand times. They don’t eat. They don’t sleep. SVETLANA’s hearing aids never lose their charge and FREDDIE and FLORENCE have not needed their medications.
In stalemate, time is suspended, but they feel the passing of time more acutely than ever.
Seeing everyone settled, ANATOLY straightens his shoulders. FLORENCE and SVETLANA look at him cautiously. FREDDIE looks past ANATOLY. ANATOLY notices this, but he does not address it. He is used to FREDDIE’s behavior.
ANATOLY speaks to the entire group.
ANATOLY: Between us, we have four stories. Only four. I thought we would’ve been able to come to an agreement by now.
SVETLANA: I thought we’d already come to an agreement?
FLORENCE: We have! (She perks up.) We did. I thought we did. I’m not going crazy, am I? Our plan was to pick one story to vote for. It’s not that hard, is it?
ANATOLY and SVETLANA glance at each other. They know more than anyone that it is that hard. However, neither of them want to tell FLORENCE that.
FREDDIE has no problem telling FLORENCE that.
FREDDIE: If it’s not that hard, why are we still here?
It’s a rhetorical question. FLORENCE doesn’t get the memo.
FLORENCE: Why are we still here?
The answer is obvious to everyone except FLORENCE. FREDDIE hadn’t realized she was serious.
No one wants to answer.
SVETLANA breaks first. When it comes to matters related to FLORENCE, SVETLANA is very easy to break.
SVETLANA: Because someone is spoiling the vote. Our votes are secret. We can say we’ll vote the same, but there is no way to confirm we’re actually doing that. So… one of us is spoiling the vote.
She explains this very gently. Everything she says, she says gently. Everything she does, she does gently.
FREDDIE and ANATOLY sit still, because they know SVETLANA is right. Neither of them look FLORENCE in the eye. The thought that someone is lying had genuinely not occurred to her. FLORENCE’s head snaps up and she stares at SVETLANA as she takes it in. The betrayal from one of her fellow raftmates is news to her.
A beat.
Another beat.
ANATOLY: Well. I’m going to tell my story.
The three other CHARACTERS look in his direction. FLORENCE’s expression is still torn. FREDDIE’s expression is unreadable and unpredictable. Everything about him is unpredictable. SVETLANA, however, is very predictable. She is resigned.
The three CHARACTERS have all heard ANATOLY’s story a thousand times. Maybe they’ll hear it a thousand more.
A thousand minus one.
ANATOLY begins his story.