Victor Stoian is participating in the International Literary Creation Competition, 7th Edition, from Bucharest, Romania and is 33 years old. We thank him for his participation and wish him success.

OFF SCRIPT

Dale had to perform with his wife Sally and her lover Clark – what an irony! – in a play about a betrayed husband. Yet, Dale somehow found a way to overcome his feelings of humiliation, disappointment and anxiety, learn the part for tonight’s performance and rehearse the play thoroughly with his wife and her lover, business as usual. While Clark rehearsed unconcerned, Sally looked visibly too restless to attribute that state to performance anxiety regarding the upcoming show – she snapped at the assistants for silly reasons, forgot easy lines and was less spontaneous than an amateur actor. She had been like that for the past few days. Where was that damn phone she kept without Dale’s knowledge? Did Dale find it? No, Dale looked too calm and focused, he just seemed to keep playing with a little object attached to a string. He either knew nothing … or he was up to something.

Tonight the stage was filled with furniture props and objects reminiscing of 1950s noir movies – a large desk on which there were just a pack of cigars and a gun (hopefully a prop!), two cozy armchairs, a vintage phone in a corner, a rack holding some coats, a hat and an umbrella. The consistent advertising paid off, as tonight’s show was sold out. The audience waited in patience and silence. There is something so unique about the moment the big bang echoes in the theatre hall and the performers step into the spotlight.

The show seemed to carry on flawlessly. Until something happened.

«I have a gift for you, my darling. It’s right here in my hand.»

«Show it to me, my love. I can’t wait to see what it’s about”.

Little did Sally and Clark know that those would be the last lines spoken on stage tonight that were actually in the script.

Dale held his hand high and opened his fist, revealing a pendulum. Sally’s face froze.

„Now … just watch it… the pendulum. Let your eyes follow its movement and focus on your own breath”.

Sally’s blue eyes followed the pendulum in slow circles, her expression gradually emptying of resistance. „I am getting sleepier and sleepier”, her mind repeated like a mantra, while her face looked stripped off any emotion. Her eyelids went half-closed.

„I am not going to hurt you”, Dale said, keeping the same deep calm tone of voice. „I just want you to focus on my words and answer my questions. Just like in those therapy sessions you made me pay for when you suffered from chronic anxiety. Remember that?” asked Dale and a playful smile lighted his face. „The funny thing is that those therapy sessions paid off for me as well, because I learned how easily you surrender to suggestion”.

The audience had no reaction to the last line. Neither did Clark. A nervous laughter came from some place in the hall; that was a sign that the scene had gone brilliantly wrong or terrifyingly right. After all, Dale was known to be so good at improvising that however bizarre what he was getting into on stage seemed, he surely knew the way out. Dale himself often said that improvisation required not only courage from the performer, but also an open-minded audience.

„So…”, Dale continued.

„Dale, the script…”, Clark whispered, silent enough so the audience did not hear it but loud enough so that Dale could hear it. Dale turned his face towards Clark, while the pendulum in his hand continued to move in relentless circles.

„Speak louder, friend. That’s how an actor’s voice gets heard. You said I should get back to the script. Speaking of written things, the three of us should clarify something”.

Sally stood up in front of Dale, her eyelids were still half closed and no part of her body moved.

„So, as I said, it has all dawned on me recently. And it all began with a written thing. You ordered some shit from the internet. And there is nothing wrong about it. Am I right? I want you to reply with yes or not”.

„Yes”, Sally replied in a soft voice. Clark remained frozen, unable to figure out whether Dale was improvising or unraveling and why Sally suddenly turned into a numb marionette.

„And you left your phone number to the delivery company, as usual, right?”

Sally confessed again with the same numb voice.

„Only that it was another phone, one you kept secret from me, your husband. It was a phone you used to hide your affair. An affair with the gentleman over there”. Dale pointed to Clark, who stiffened in the same spot, not knowing how to react.

„Dale…” Clark tried to find his perfect words, while uproar from the audience started to fill the awkward silence. Dale ignored Clark.

„So…”, Dale continued, „you have an affair, you have a secret phone you use to communicate with your lover how to meet behind my back. You two built a secret life together. And somehow, despite all the secrecy, all the precautions… you made the mistake that destroyed everything, you carelessly used your secret phone for online deliveries. It’s … how to put it… tragicomic”. Then Dale burst into a hysterical laugh. He pulled out his wife’s secret phone from his chest pocket. „Recognize this, cheater?” Then he smashed the phone on the wooden stage. The screen and some internal components sparked into pieces. Dale cleared his throat and continued his own show.

„What should I do with this man here?” he said, pointing at Clark. „What do you say, little fellow?” Dale asked a child who seemed to be no more than 10 years old, standing in the first row. The kid remained silent.

„Well I think we all know”, added Dale, slowly moving away towards the desk on the stage. „Oh, there we go”, he chuckled and grabbed the gun.

For the first time in his career, Clark felt like the spotlight burned the skin of his face. He felt like running, denying, saying anything, but nothing could come out of his body. For sure that was just a prop, although Clark noticed it looked different from the one they had used in rehearsals. Still, Dale would not be that crazy to bring a real gun. Or would he?

„Ladies and gentlemen”, Dale went on with his off-the-wall monologue. „Thank you for coming here tonight. In this show, to your surprise, we have played no role. We’ve just exposed our true selves. This has been my last acting performance. The masks need to fall off from time to time. When acting stops, the truth unfolds”.

Dale dropped the gun, and the heavy thing fell on the wooden stage with an angry smash. The main star now rushed to the backstage, avoiding any eye contact with the supporting team. The curtain came down, as if eager to hide behind it a still-hypnotized Sally, standing up, now with eyes fully closed and flushed cheeks and a confused and embarrassed Clark, trapped in an absurd noir scenario.  

***

Outside the theatre hall, a man approached Dale. Dale stiffened, as for now he would label anyone barely trying to approach him a pitiful stalker. Especially if that was a middle-aged guy, with a shiny balding head, a pair of thick lensed glasses covering his gray unfocused eyes.

„Great performance”, said the guy with excitement. The stranger initiated a handshake to which Dale responded with a forced and absent smile, then slowly shook the man’s hand back.

„Would you mind … an autograph?” asked the stranger.

„Do you have a pen?” Dale answered in boredom, while the guy started aimlessly searching through his pockets while maintaining an awkward eye contact with the actor.

„Oh, unfortunately I don’t…”

„Neither do I”, Dale vaguely nodded his head. „But I am glad someone enjoyed the show”, he added while slowly turning away and getting lost behind the curtain of the night.