. . . because I’ve been thinking about it for a few days. With sincere apologies to the ghost of Samuel Beckett.
Walker: tall & thin … he has salt & pepper hair … he walks, gazing up & away from the road, always … never looking ahead, behind, or down
SCENE: A road, with a single evergreen tree just to the left of center. Bigfoot is sitting on the ground under the tree. Walker enters and stands beside Bigfoot.
8767 (cat typing) Bigfoot: Nothing to be done.
Walker: Oh, well, but perhaps. . . Have you seen her?
Bigfoot: No. Have you?
Walker: I have not seen her.
Bigfoot: She is not in the sky. I do not believe that she is in the sky.
Walker: The last time I saw her, she was in the sky. It was a sunny day, a shiny day. Five crows flew together across the road, flying in the same direction. North. The wind was from the south.
Bigfoot: What was she doing then?
Walker: With the crows. She was flying with the crows. Her arms were outstretched and her hair was flying like crow wings.
Bigfoot: Will she come back?
Walker: She will come back, so I am watching for her. All the time I’m watching for her.
Bigfoot: I, too, am watching. Not in the sky. I am not watching in the sky.
Walker: Are you happy now?
Bigfoot: Now? No. I am unhappy. Since the wind shifted to the south, I have been unhappy. The south wind carries the scent of oranges, and the scent of oranges always makes me cry.
Walker: Ah yes. Oranges. But is there not a scent of lemon?
Bigfoot: No lemon. Not yet. Not this time of year. I’ve been thinking about killing myself.
Walker: Will you do that?
Bigfoot: Perhaps. Perhaps if I do not see her. Or if I do not see the crows. Or if the wind does not change.
Walker: The crows will return. I am sure of that. Crows always return. Perhaps they will not be the same crows, but they will be crows,, flying hard through the sky. When the wind changes, you will see that there will be crows.
Bigfoot: Then perhaps I can live. He stands up.
Walker: Will you go on?
Bigfoot: I might stay here. I might go on. Are you going on?
Walker: Yes. I am going on. It is time for me to go on. The wind is changing.
Bigfoot: Is it from the north?
Walker: No. It is not yet from the north. This wind is from the south west. Tonight, maybe tomorrow, the wind will blow from the north.
Bigfoot: I think the smell of oranges is diminishing.
Walker: Then perhaps you can live.
Bigfoot: Then perhaps I can live.
Walker: Are you going on then?
Bigfoot: I think I am not going on. I think I shall stay here. He sits down. I like this tree. There is an essence of life in this tree. Perhaps if I stay here she will feel encouraged to return. Or the crows will be encouraged. In the meantime, nothing happens but the scent of oranges diminishing.
Walker: Perhaps you could go on.
Bigfoot: If I go on, will something happen?
Walker: Your feet will move. That is something.
Bigfoot: But is that enough?
Walker: I do not know if that is enough for you. For me it is enough.
Bigfoot: It would not be enough for me. I shall stay. Until the wind changes, I shall stay.
Walker: Do you have an umbrella?
Bigfoot: I do not have an umbrella. Should I have an umbrella?
Walker: Yes. You should have an umbrella if you will stay until the wind changes.
Bigfoot: For what reason?
Walker: When the wind changes, you may open the umbrella and the changed wind will take you somewhere else.
Bigfoot: Is something happening somewhere else?
Walker: Sometimes something is happening.
Bigfoot: I do not have an umbrella. Perhaps I should go along. He stands.
Walker: We could look for her together.
Bigfoot: I could look on the ground and between the trees.
Walker: I will continue to look at the sky. I think she will come from the sky. When the crows return.
Bigfoot: When the wind changes.
Walker: Yes. Shall we go?
Bigfoot: Yes. Let’s go.
They do not move.