The man looked down at Joseph just as he looked up at the man. The man’s dark grey pants, along with his light grey cloak, blew around in the blissful breeze. He was fit, his white shirt brought out the muscles in his chest and his arms seemed as if they could lift two times his weight. The man was posed as if he had been meditating, he was crouched down, standing on one leg, with his other leg extended outwards. The man was perfectly still, sitting there with his hands pressed together. He was on top of the guard rail of an open railroad crossing. Joseph looked up at him, the man’s clothes bringing out his figure against the white cloudless sky.
“Why are you up there?” Joseph asked, looking upwards at the man.
“I don’t know, I just wanted to,” the man said looking down at Joseph, “Does it matter why?”
“I would like to think it does,”
“This is your problem, you keep asking questions that don’t need to be asked.” The man looked back up and gazed towards the horizon as if he was retreating to his mind.
“Eh– W– What’s your name?” Joseph said, wondering now if it was a question worth answering.
“Pere Marquette,”
“What does it mean?”
“Nothing,” Pere responded.
“Oh,”
“You know you need to stop– stop asking questions,” Pere looked back down into his eyes again, “Life isn’t always a question– but, that’s not how you think, right?”
You know a lot,” Joseph said looking up at the stern man, “I don’t believe you though, there has to be something I’m not getting here.”
“What’s there to get?” Pere sighed.
“Life. There’s got to be something else about it,” Joseph said to the brick wall.
“You aren’t talking about anything–” Pere said before pausing to collect his thoughts, “It doesn’t mean anything.”
“What doesn’t mean anyth–” just then the lights on the railroad crossing started to flash and the bell started to ring, there was a train coming.
“Well, you better get ready,” Pere said, pushing his leg off from the rectangular candy cane and soaring to the metallic blinking light. He grabbed the top of the light with his arms and kicked his legs above himself. He was still looking at Joseph, however this time, he was upside down doing a handstand. The arm of the gate reached its resting point and then– nothing. There were two seconds of silence between Joseph and Pere before Joseph was caught in a tsunami of running people. Joseph didn’t see them nor hear them approach until he was caught in the middle of them all. He was pushed, pulled, bumped, hit, and knocked all around until he started to run. They stomped on as if they were elephants racing through the savannas. A disorderly sprint, some fell while others kept on running. The ones who fell were trampled, lost in the thick forest of legs and feet. The crowd was filled with people from all walks of life: old and young, men and women, small and large. Although the gamut was diverse, they all ran in the same direction at the same speed.
“Help!” Joseph yelled. He ran along with the crowd for who knows how long, bumping into person after person. He pushed and shoved and hurried through the crowd. He was still stuck in the mess, running and bumping all while he was trying to not fall. The current of the mass made it hard to stay afloat, but Joseph had to stay on his feet.
While the chasing and racing raved on, Joseph was still being tossed around like a ragdoll. He was in the crowd for what seemed like days; however, in mere minutes, the crowd pushed Joseph and he tripped, falling on his stomach outside of the group’s stampede.
“Life!” Pere said to Joseph, standing over his worn out body, “That’s how it goes.” Joseph pushed himself up off of the quartz tiled floor and stood up facing Pere.
“What–” Joseph bent down and put his hands on his knees, catching his breath, “What the hell was that?” Pere looked at Joseph with a smile,
“How about I take you out for some drinks?”
“How long was I running for?” Joseph asked as Pere started to walk towards their next destination.
“Not that long,”
“Oh”
“Come on let's go,”
“Where?” Joseph asked as the two walked off. The floor was made of quartz tile and the sky was pure white, as if they were walking through a Microsoft Word document.
The two men walked towards a busy and playfu–
“Hold on?” Joseph said out loud, “How did we get here? We haven’t even been walking for that long!” The two men walked towards a busy and playful sce–
“What are you talking about? We’ve been walking for hours!” Pere responded to the quizzical Joseph. “Maybe if you even thought to pay some mind to our journey you would’ve remembered it.”
“Well it’s a little hard when all there is here is tiled floor and white skies! There hasn’t even been anything interesting yet!”
“That’s not my fault.”
“I’m just saying that if this place looked a bit more interesting it might’ve been more memorable,” Joseph said. Finally, the two men walked towards a busy and playful scene.
They approached an area which held two tables, six chairs, one stage, a piano, and four people. There were no walls in this area, only the furniture, the tiled floor, and the people. One of them was sitting away from the others at an empty table. The tables were circular and made out of a dark type of wood, the type you’d see at a quiet bar. The chairs were rickety and wooden too, each holding the history of whoever sat there last. The man sitting alone was slumped back in his chair, he wore grey slacks, a lilac shirt, and an orange tie that hung from his neck; also the cuffs on his shirt remained unbuttoned. The table the man sat at was scattered with empty glasses. The other man was joyous, he was sitting upright in his chair and he filled the silence with a brazing laugh. He was wearing a flashy button-up shirt which held a multitude of fish of different sizes and colors. He wore jeans which stood upon shiny brown shoes. This man was surrounded by two women who seemed to be fawning over him. Upon arriving at this set, Joseph and Pere walked towards the man sitting alone, only because there were two open seats.
Do you mind if we sit here?” Joseph asked the man. The slumped figure looked up at Joseph without any glee, it was as if he was in a morass of introspection.
“Sure,” the man said, “Sit down.”
“Thanks,” Joseph replied. The two sat down, Joseph shook around in his chair, feeling how uneven the legs were. He then looked around the area, there were no walls, it was all just out in the open. He looked over at the other table and then looked back at the man. When sitting down Pere didn’t look around, he just stared at the man slumped over.
“Are you okay?” Joseph asked the man.
“Yeah, I’m good,” The man looked up and decided to pull himself back up from his slouched position, “I’m good.”
“Are you sure?”
“No,” He said in a flat toned voice, “I’m not.” The man put his elbows on the table, using his right arm to prop his head up while the left arm lay parallel to the width of his body. He looked down at the table and then back up to the two sitting in front of him.
“My name’s George,” the man said.
“George?” Joseph asked.
“Yeah” George said in a lousy tone.
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m sad– the person I love doesn’t love me back,” George looked at both of the men, “It hurts me a lot.” George sat at the table but then started to get up.
“You know– actually,” as he got up from the table, he walked towards the stage. He walked to the edge of the stage and hoisted his body onto it. He climbed the edge like a whale at Seaworld, and eventually made his way on stage. He stumbled towards the black piano, and fell onto the bench.
“What’s this clown doing?” the man at the other table said just as George began to stiffen up his body and perfect his form. When he was ready, he cleared his throat and began to play. The melody was sad, it reminded Joseph of a sunny day with nothing to do. George played for a short amount of time before speaking what was on his mind:
“Drinking away my tears,
Relieves me of all my fears.
When you’re by my side,
My sadness seems to hide.
Although I was drunk,
Puking up a muck,
You cared and were there
Until I was not.”
He played for a bit more, until he inevitably stopped. When he stood up from the bench, nobody else in the area clapped except for Joseph. George jumped down from the stage and walked back over to his resting place.
“That was really good George! What was it about?”
“Mmhm” George replied before going silent. He looked off into the empty glasses on his table, back into the confines of his mind.
“Well I guess it’s that time,” the man at the other table said as he started to get up from his chair. The women around him seemed as if they were in the midst of a once in a lifetime experience. They were smiling and eager to see the man get out of his chair and walk towards the stage for his turn in the spotlight. He got up on the stage and stood behind the standing microphone,
“I think it’s ‘bout time we get this boulder rolling,” the man said with a charismatic smile that you’d only see in photos of supposed “good” people. The man looked as if he were afraid of the barbershop. His hair was white and curly when it should’ve been a dense brown for his age. Just then, a white van to the left of the stage skidded to a halt. In a matter of seconds after stopping, the doors of the van opened and out came four other men, each carrying their respective instrument of destruction. One carried two guitars, one for himself and the other for the man already on stage. After giving the guitar to the man on stage, he went back to help his other band member set up his drum kit. Eventually, all of the band members were on stage with their instruments.
“This is our new little ditty we created: My love,” the man on stage spoke. “It goes something like this.” The band began to play an energetic sort of melody, something you’d hear from the Beatles, only, these people weren’t the Beatles. As the tune played on, the lead singer cleared his throat and sang a familiar rhyme.
“Drinking away my tears,
Relieves me of all my fears.
When you’re by my side,
My sadness seems to hide.
Although I was drunk,
Puking up a muck,
You cared and were there
Until I was not.”
After the thief stopped speaking, the beat played on for a couple more minutes while each band member showed off their individual personalities. One of them played a stylistic riff, while the other started banging on the drums. The lead singer started to dance, a mixture of rhythmic bops and struts which ultimately broke into erratic swings and moves. It was as if the singer was a wriggling worm in the mud. Once the melody fell silent, the two women in the crowd cheered for them as if they were Elvis, and like I said before, they’re no Elvis.
“What a bunch of thieving bums,” George said, after being speechless for the whole performance, “They’re able to go on stage with no talent– and win.”
“No talent? Did you hear them?” Joseph was amazed at what George had to say.
“Yeah, anybody can learn to play an instrument, it’s something many people have done before–”
“Hell, a toddler could learn how to play the guitar and be good at it,” George ranted, “There’s no talent in playing, the real talent is the talent that sets them apart from others.” George swallowed hard and looked Joseph in the eyes.
“The real talent is separating yourself from the rest, the real talent, is the originality you pride yourself on. These leeches have no personality, no originality, and no soul. Their song is barely human.”
“And for my people in the audience! We also do birthday parties!” the man on stage yelled.
“I wouldn’t let my kid around him,” Pere said, “Look at him.” The man on stage was alone now, his crew vanished from their original spots leaving nothing behind– even the van was gone. He stood there smiling off into the audience. Before the man could speak again, his smile vanished from his face as he bent over on the stage and puked. Green vomit launched from the man's throat and onto the stage with a splatter. It was all sudden, as if his actions had finally processed in his mind, only, it was too late to change them.
“I think it’s about time to leave,” Pere said to Joseph.
“I’m going to have to agree with you on this one,” Joseph said as the two got up from their chairs and walked away from the area, leaving George behind with his lonely mind.
“Can you believe that?” Joseph said to Pere, “They just stole his song.”
“Yeah that happens,” Pere said.
“Where are we going now?”
“Does it matter?” Pere said, stopping his walk and looking at Joseph with a tilted head and an annoyed look on his face.
“I don’t know,” Joseph said as he turned back around, only this time, instead of looking off into the vast white void, he was now faced with the same railroad crossing as from before.
“What?!” Joseph turned back around and looked frantically for the bar that he could've sworn was about fifteen feet away from them. Instead of finding the bar, he spotted four people dressed in full black carrying a wooden door. They sprinted with the door and quickly placed it down trying to get it straightened. When Pere saw them, he flicked his hand in a motion to try and get the people to leave. Once the crew saw this, they sprinted off away from the door.
Scene 3: The Door
White Void, day?
Joseph, questioning the wild event that just occurred, walks over towards the door.
JOSEPH
What was that? Who were those people?
PERE
What do you mean? The door?
Pere quickly tried to steer the conversation away from the black clothed individuals. However he wasn’t too discrete about this, he stood nervously trying to get Joseph to stop thinking about it.
PERE
I didn’t see any peo–
JOSEPH
What’s happening!? Why are we talking like this?
PERE
Talking like what?
JOSEPH
Like we’re in a play!
PERE
Does it matter? Isn’t it still the same outcome?
Joseph faced Pere, the look on his face seemed as if he had just viewed his life from another person’s eyes. Joseph stood there for a moment, manually blinking his eyes as if he were trying to wake up from a dream. Eventually he took a deep breath and continued on towards the strange door in the middle of the void. The door was wooden and brown, it had a clean engraving in the middle of it, and a gold keyhole along with a gold doorknob. Once Joseph saw the keyhole, he turned to Pere and said to him,
“The door’s locked, I need a key to get through.” Joseph looked at Pere as he dug through the pockets of his pants. As he felt around his pockets for an object, Joseph stood impatiently, wondering what was beyond the door. Could it be that the door held the answer he was looking for? Could it explain everything that’s been happening to him? Could it at least provide some comfort in his life? As Pere finally produced a golden key from his pocket, he gave it to Joseph.
Joseph put the golden key into its door and turned it, unlocking the door which held all of the answers. As Joseph put the key into his pocket, he put his hand on the doorknob. He started to sweat, he had finally reached the point where he could make sense of everything. He was excited, but also scared, he hoped that the message did him good. He wanted to better himself and make sense of his life. As he gained the courage to finally turn the doorknob he looked back at Pere who was just looking at him smiling. Joseph then turned back to face the door, and turned the door knob. The doorknob however, didn’t turn, the door was already unlocked, and he had just locked it.