Fenda, Ahmed.
Ahmed is sitting in the audience. Fenda enters suddenly.
FENDA. Ahmed, Ahmed! Where are you?
AHMED (from his seat). Here. I’m here.
FENDA. Where’s “here”?
In what follows, this is the setup: for Fenda, the universe is the stage, and “here,” “somewhere else,” can only refer to the stage (possibly also the backstage). For Ahmed, in contrast, the universe includes the audience in which he is sitting.
AHMED. Here! Here is here! What else do you want me to tell you?
FENDA (exploring the stage). But there’s nothing here! Are you pulling my leg, you damn desert joker?
AHMED. Here, I’m telling you! Not there! If you look there, you won’t see me here!
FENDA. You’re bugging me, like a cockroach. I’ve been doing nothing but looking here! You’ve got to be somewhere else, I know you, always somewhere other than here!
AHMED. You’re the one who’s looking somewhere else! I know you! Always looking somewhere else and never here! Here, here, I’m telling you! Not there where you are! Here!
FENDA. And how, my little blue pig of the oasis, do you expect “here” to not be where I am? If it’s somewhere else, it’s not here, and if it’s here it’s here where here is and not there where here isn’t.
AHMED. Just think a moment, my radiant beloved from the land of the baobab trees. If I tell you I’m here, it’s because I’m not there, there where you are! My here is here, whereas your here is there. Come on! Not all heres are there! My here is here!
FENDA. As a matter of fact, I’ve looked all over. Don’t think my eye isn’t as sharp as that of any hawk in the palm trees! I’ve inspected all the possible heres. You’ve up and gone somewhere else, lousy place changer
AHMED (to the audience around him). Hey, tell her! Tell this gorgeous stubborn mule! Tell her I’m here! Maybe she’ll believe you!
FENDA. And you think I’m going to believe your accomplices, my little Ali Baba of the forty thieves? They can shout “here, here!” till the cows come home, they’re still not going to throw off my inner compass. Let your troops try all the tricks they want: woman sees what she sees. I’ll find you somewhere else, Mister Make a Big Fuss About Here. Mister Here We Go Again! Mister Here Today Gone Tomorrow!
Fenda turns toward the wings, and examines them.
AHMED. Over here! Not over there! You’ve got your back turned to me! Over this way! Not over that way! Boy, her inner ear is really messing with her! Here, I’m telling you!
FENDA. It doesn’t seem like he’s somewhere else either. Where could he be hiding?
AHMED (desperate). Here, I’m here! Everybody sees me except you! Stop looking around everywhere but here!
FENDA. And you, stop jabbering, like a stork with a dirty beak, that you’re here, when here, as everybody can see, there’s nobody but me. I’ll find you eventually, here or somewhere else, really close or really far, and then you’ll get an earful!
Fenda disappears backstage, from which we hear a whole racket of searching.
AHMED. By Allah! This is worse than talking to a sleeping crocodile! I’m going back there. I have to go back there. If I stay here, she’ll stay there, and we’ll both be somewhere else.
Ahmed leaves his seat and walks onto the stage. Fenda returns, exhausted and covered in dust, as if she’d been rummaging around in someone’s attic.
FENDA. Ah! You’ve finally come here! When you’re done playing cops and robbers like a child, let me know! What a doofus!
AHMED (pointing to the seat he’s just vacated). But I was right there! I was right there the whole time! Ask any of those people! I was there. I didn’t budge!
FENDA. And if you were there, why were you shouting like a stuck pig that you were here? Little liar!
AHMED (overwhelmed). I was there just now. It’s just now that I’ve come up here, because you were looking for me everywhere but there!
FENDA. I don’t see why I would have looked for you there, when you were screaming like a lunatic, with all your sidekicks, that you were here! And besides, believe me, I checked and double-checked for you there (pointing backstage). I looked for you in every gross place you can think of! Looking for you, I was like a spider all wrapped up in its web! Here, there, everywhere … I inspected everything! You’ll pay for this! It’s not funny!
AHMED. But there (pointing to the audience) and there (pointing backstage) aren’t the same theres! They’re in opposite directions!
FENDA. Directions! You can really lead a woman astray with this business about directions. But me, I have my own personal sense of direction, a private one, like the camel that knows the stars! And let me point out to you that there (pointing backstage) and there (pointing to the audience) … neither one of them is here! Mr. Direct-from-Fakeville.
AHMED. Kiss me here then. When you kiss me, I lose all sense of direction!
FENDA. Some other day, Mr. Here We Go Again. A day when, if you tell me you’re here, it’s not because you’re somewhere else.
Fenda exits into the audience and walks through it slowly.
AHMED. Fenda! Fenda! You’re where I was. Do you understand? That’s where I was just now!
FENDA. Here? You were here? How come you didn’t tell me?
AHMED (flustered). But I did nothing but tell you, in every possible way, my pretty one from over there!
FENDA. Mainly what I see is that when I come here you’re there! I’m getting really tired of your not being where I am! You’re never here! When I’m here, you never are. Too bad for you, sweetiepie.
Fenda exits.
AHMED (raising his hands to the sky). Woman! Woman! Where is woman? Never here, never there, never somewhere else…. She’s always out of sight!