ONE: PILATE COMES HOME

P hesitates outside a door.
Mary 1 enters.

You ready to come in?

Almost.
Can’t believe it’s you.
Let me just—

He traces her cheek.

It’s me, honey.

She traces his cheek.
He winces.

Don’t touch me yet, okay.

Okay. Why don’t you touch me?

He touches her hands.

(To the audience) She is a deer wrapped in brown velvet. She is the air breathing inside the body of a violin.

Nothing.
Sorry.
I’m not being myself, am I?

You know that funny phrase—what is it—remember me to your mother. I need you to remember me—to myself. Can you—?

Here we go—I’m remembering you to yourself.

She touches his forehead.
He winces.
Violet enters.

Violet!
The pictures of you were pretty.
But not half so pretty as you.

I drew you a picture of a bird.

She hands it to him.

Wow! How is it you can draw such a good bird, only three years old?

I’m good at drawing birds.

That’s the best bird I ever saw. It’s so good I bet it even flies.

He flies the bird picture around the room.
He picks up Violet and flies her around the room.

(Laughing) Put me down!

P flies crazier.

Put me down! I’m scared!

You’re scaring her, honey.

P puts her down.

I didn’t scare you, honey, did I? We ’re just playing bird.

Why don’t we all go to sleep. It ’s been a long day.

I’ll sleep right here, just outside the door. You two call me if you need anything.

What? Why, honey?

If anyone’s coming.

No one’s coming.

Not right now. But when we ’re sleeping. When you sleep outside you can hear the leaves if anyone’s coming. I want to protect you. And Violet.

I know, honey. But it’s safe here. It’s South Dakota. Remember?

Why is Daddy sleeping outside?

To protect you from bad people.

Are there bad people tonight?

There are always bad people.

Mary 1 gives P a blanket.

Good night.
Sleep with the angels, Violet.

What’s that mean?

Mary 1 and Violet exit.

P curls up in his blanket.
He looks at the sky.
The sky is red.
He sits up.

(To himself )
Red sky at night, sailor’s delight.
Red sky at morning, sailors take warning.

The chorus enters with wind machines
and Elizabethan boats.

They’re coming through the fog to the shore, the tall ships, and I’m making sure they get here safe . . . real safe . . . I feel a gale of wind coming from the north but I counter it with a gale from the south . . . I pour wind into their sails, and it’s important they get here by morning . . .

P steers the boats through the wind, conducting.
Violet enters.

You should be sleeping.

You should be sleeping.
Why are there boats in the sky?

You can see them?

It’s a secret, but your dad can control the wind.

Yep. See, when I was in the war I was the pilot of a ship.

And you blew the wind yourself?

That’s right. So I could push my ship exactly where I needed to go. That way, I never made a mistake.

When I was in the war, I was not a pilot.

The chorus exits.

What do you mean, honey? What war?

The war before.

There is always a war before, and a war after.

Before this war you were safe, safe in your mother’s stomach.

Nope. There was a war before. I died.

You shouldn’t be thinking about wars. You’re only a little girl. Get those wars out of your head.

You get the wars out of your head.

She tries to pluck the wars out of his head with her fingers.
She puts the imaginary wars on the ground.

He does the same for her.

There they are, two wars side by side.

They look at the wars.

No.
Almost.
Jump on them.

They hold hands. They jump.

TWO

J and P.
In the dressing room,
getting ready for rehearsal, putting on costumes.

You look good too.
You need a haircut.

It’s for the play.

Oh, yeah.
What ever happened to wigs?

I wanted it to look real.

Well, it looks like—real hair.
So.
I hear you been acting all over the place—summer stockyards?

Pretty good. People think it’s kind of funny, me playing Christ. They get a kick out of it, actually.

So it’s—kind of like a gimmick?

I didn’t say that.

Well what is it then?

It’s just a—nothing. Look—there have been some changes in the play, since you’ve been gone. Mary write to you about it?

She wrote me about other things.

Well, there’s a new director. A young guy. And it’s more professional. There are more professional actors. And there’s a real stage manager—not Hank from the garage. And there’s a new sound system. It sounds pretty good, actually.

Actually. Since when do you say actually all the time—it makes it sound like you think everyone else is a moron. Sorry.

It’s okay. Really, it’s okay.

Wonder if I still know my lines.

My kingdom is not of this world.

Thou art a king then.

You still got it.

THREE: A REHEARSAL

P and J in costume.
Mary 1 and Mary 2 in costume.
Violet, dressed as a shepherdess.
The whole ensemble.
Including a brand-new director,
and a special effects expert.

(To P) At this point, when you do the Satan bit, we ’re adding firecrackers. So you sort of shoot firecrackers out of your arms, like this.

SPECIAL EFFECTS

They’re regulation firecrackers. Completely safe. You just pull the cord, and whammo.

He shoots firecrackers out of his arms.
P winces at the firecrackers.

Sorry, I can’t do firecrackers today.

Okay, we’ll work the firecrackers tomorrow. Let’s move on to the second act. From: “I cannot condemn him.”

(As Pontius) I cannot condemn him. What has this man done? Look at his face, so gentle in countenance.

Crucify him! Crucify him!

I will do as you say. But look—I wash my hands!

P washes his hands. He sees blood everywhere.

Oh, there’s so much blood . . .

Hold on.
What’s the matter?

Is this fake blood or real blood?

It looks like blood.

Maybe the water’s rusty. Can we go on?

I, Pontius Pilate, at the desire of the whole Jewish people—condemn this man to death. Now, take him and crucify him.

Hitler appears.
P sees him.
No one else does.

Do you know who I am?

(To Hitler) You’d better get out of here.

Hitler stands there, between P and the Young Director.

Sorry. What was I doing—washing the blood?

That’s right. Let’s just take it from your line: I, Pontius Pilate—

I, Pontius Pilate, at the desire of the whole Jewish people, condemn—Wait. The Jews are saying: kill Jesus! But they’re religious men, right? And Pilate was a bad guy, a tyrant. How come they want to kill him and I’m being all heroic—like—no, no, I can’t kill him?

The Jews want to kill Jesus because He’s too powerful.
That’s how it’s written in the Bible.
Isn’t it?

We’re just telling the story, honey, the story from the Bible.

Just telling the story, bullshit! Either the Jews killed Jesus or else they’re innocent!

Look, we’ve had the Anti-Defamation League here, haven’t we?

(To Young Director) Oh, yeah they came, about six years ago, and gave us some feed-back. Used to be we had horns on the costumes of the high priests but we took them off a long time ago—um—six years ago. So the Anti-Defamation League—now they really—um—like our play.

I don’t care about a fucking league, I’m talking about a man, a real man.

I think we need to get away from talking about the play as a real historical document and get back to the play as a play. It is our task as actors to—

It’s not just a play! It’s the word of God!

Yes, of course. Can we move on now?

Move on, move on, who cares about anything as long as we move on . . .

YOUNG DIRECTOR
Look, I know you’ve had a
rough time of it,
but we only have one day
P
until dress rehearsal—I don’t want your pity,
I want to know what’s going on
in this fucking scene!
(To Hitler) GO AWAY!

Hitler walks offstage.

The special effects guy assumes P was talking to him and backs away.

Are you all right?

Yeah, yeah, I’m all right.

Let’s just take it from there—from: I, Pontius Pilate—

Okay. But I want to change it. I’m gonna say: I, Pontius Pilate, an agent of the State, condemn this man to death. Not the Jews, not history. I will take responsibility. Now take him and crucify him.

That’s not what the Bible says.

The Bible says lots of things.

Do you want to go outside?

I don’t want to hit you.

Then don’t hit me.

A silent moment between P and the Young Director.

Let’s take it from your line.

I, Pontius Pilate, an agent of the State, condemn this man to death. I will take responsibility. Now take him and crucify him.

Oh, happy day for the people of Israel! Long live our Governor, Pontius Pilate!

(To P) Thank you. Now exit stage left.

P looks left and right, forgetting what stage left means.

Double time, soldier.

P passes by the Young Director.
P clocks the Young Director.
A brief tableau.

FOUR

Mary 1 and the Young Director, who has an ice pack on his cheek.

I’m going to have to fire your husband.

Look—give him another chance.
He just got home. He’s not himself.

I’m trying to put on a professional production—

—of the Gospel. You know how it ’d look—in this town—if you fired a soldier?

Bad. ’Specially you just back from Canada.

I’ll give him one more chance. One.

His understudy’s out in Oklahoma anyway.

He’s not in Oklahoma, he’s in “Oklahoma!”

FIVE

The sky is red.
P, alone, on an abstraction of a roof, or a mountain,
assembling jars full of wind.
He stacks them.

Red sky, at night, sailor’s delight.

He takes a jar, traps some air, screws the lid on.
Mary 1 appears.

What are you doing all the way up here?

I wanted some air.

He traps some more air in a jar.

You mean—as in—to breathe it?

Yeah. And to keep it. Here—
the night air. Perfect, like you.

Look how red the sky is.

It’s probably just the—nuclear reactor—next town over.

Maybe.
Or something bigger.

They look at the horizon, holding hands.

So, there was some stuff that wasn’t in my letters.

You don’t have to tell me.

I was powering a ship that had a gunner on the back. And there were lots of explosions—all the time—felt like they were right here. (Pointing to his head) But one time, we heard this huge explosion, and we heard people screaming, so we went ashore to help out. I was holding a little girl—maybe Violet’s age. Her head was in my hands, and it was wet, and I realized her whole skull was—gone—and her brains, in my hands—on my clothes—and for a long time we thought the enemy shot into the camp, because we thought who would kill women and children like that—but later I realized no—we were shooting into the woodline. It was us.

It’s not your fault.

There were no showers, you know—we were in country on February 28th—I didn’t shower until May 10th. I washed my hands without water:

He rubs his hands together.

Pontius Pilate—with no water.

And I would think of old Pilate, lying there in the dark. How Pilate had good intentions—he had to kill someone innocent, it was all part of the big plan. He saved us all, didn’t he, by being willing to be bad. But—a little girl’s brains—there’s no plan for that.

You’re a good man.

Yeah, right.
I don’t want to be in the play anymore.

I don’t believe in God anymore.

It’s okay—a lot of people don’t believe in God these days—

No—it’s not okay! In this town—people should believe in God—or else they’re fucking hypocrites! You believe in God, don’t you Mary—

Yes, I believe in God—

Tell me you’re the same, you’re the same—

I’m the same, honey, I’m the same—

He kisses her.

I still have the Virgin Mary in my pocket, see?

He shows her.

SIX

A rehearsal.
The whole company.
Carpenters working on the cross.
Violet is dressed as a shepherdess.
The acting style is broad, gestural.

(As Pontius) Art thou the King of the Jews!

(As Jesus) Thou sayest so.

Hearest thou not how many accusations they hurl at thee? Why art thou silent?

My kingdom is not—
Wait, can we stop?

I was thinking about this scene. And I thought it would be better if we toned it down. Just—real. Two men talking.

In an amphitheater for six thousand people.

Could you mike us?

We can hardly see your faces. Look—we need the physical gesture.

Well, I don’t want to do it this way, this grand gesture stuff. It’s fake. I want to do it for real.

Yeah, for real.

What do you mean real?
It’s not real.

I want people to feel the humanity of it.

Are you saying how I’m acting isn’t human enough?

I’m not saying anything about your acting.

Sure you are. You’re saying I’m not real enough

You don’t need to pussyfoot around me, for fuck’s sake, just say you don’t like the way I’m doing the scene.

A moment of danger.

Yeah, I don’t like the way you’re doing the scene. Actually.

What the fuck do you know about real? You want real?

P finds a nail onstage, and a hammer, by the cross.

This nail is real.

This wood is real.

Calm down, honey.

And my hand is real.
You want to know about real sacrifice?
It’s in the body.

P puts his left hand on the cross, palm up.
He holds a nail with his left fingers and points it toward his palm.
With his right hand,
he hammers the nail into the palm of his hand.
The world goes into slow motion.
The women scream.
Mary 1 turns Violet’s head away.
P doesn’t scream.
Blackout.

SEVEN: 1984

A clinical feeling. P and a VA psychiatrist at a VA hospital. P’s left hand is limp, crushed, at his side.

What year is it?

What year is it?

It’s 1984.
Who’s President?

President Reagan, good, that’s right.

I see in your records that you had a suicide attempt about ten years ago, that you were hospitalized for a month in a South Dakota VA.

It wasn’t a suicide attempt.

No. I crucified Pontius Pilate. I figured why not crucify the bad guy for once, you know?

You’re the bad guy?

No, I played the role of a bad guy. It’s a metaphor.

It says in your records that you were given medicines for delusions. Are you still on medication?

I spoke to your wife on the phone today.

Okay. Ex. When’s the last time you talked to your ex-wife?

Probably talked to her today. This morning.

She said she hasn’t talked to you in a year.

She doesn’t talk to me but I talk to her.

She mentioned that you think you can control the wind?

How do you know that you can control the wind?

The Lord told me so.

Do you think you can talk to God?

I talk to him but he doesn’t talk to me.

Well, that’s a common enough problem.

Your wife also said you wanted to kill the President.

Nah. He’s a good President. He gave me a raise. Three hundred dollars. Spent it on cigarettes.

It says in your records that you’ve been in ten different cities at ten different VAs over the past ten years. You seem to travel a lot. Why’d you leave home?

I like to sleep outside. Look—I didn’t come here to confess my sins to you. Unless you can absolve me of my sins, and I don’t think you’re qualified to do that, and I don’t see any holy water in your office, just give me a pill, a pill for my troubles, a pill please. I have a really big king-sized headache. I thought about shooting myself to make my headache go away but I thought you might have like a really really big aspirin.

I’ll see what I can do.

He looks down at his chart.

Is this all we’ve got now? A bunch of white coats? No priests to say yes, son, your suffering meant something, no kings on the battlefield to say yes, soldier, your suffering meant something. Just give me a pill, a God-shaped pill, please.

The VA psychiatrist looks up from his chart.

I’m trying to help you.

Yeah, thanks. Sorry. Look—I just want to get myself back to South Dakota.

And what’ll you do when you get there?

I’ll play Pontius Pilate the way he was meant to be played.

And how’s that?

Like a hung-over politician in a God-forsaken province who took stupid orders on a really fucking bad day.

EIGHT

P pressed up against Mary 1, kissing her.

(Almost incomprehensible) Kiss me harder, into my heart . . .

He kisses her.

I’m your ex-wife, goddammit, wake up—

P
I just need somewhere to sleep,
honey.

You’ve been drinking—
I just need a shower—

My God! You can’t just pop in every couple of years and take a shower here! How do you think that is for Violet? You could go to the church—

I don’t need a church. I need soap. And a razor.

Pontius Pilate didn’t have a beard.
He was a Roman. He was clean-shaven.

There’s no rehearsal honey—
there’s no Pontius Pilate—
Someone else has it now!
A professional actor.
From Nebraska.

I’m going to talk to the director—
get my part back—

Oh, really a professional?

MARY 1
That’s right.

P
From Nebraska?

He went to school—he’s Equity—I don’t know.

Is he better than me?

He’s fine.
Yeah, he’s good.

Really. Can he show what it’s like to give orders to kill a man? Unless he’s been there and seen what it’s like up close—

(Overlapping with his“up close”)
Yeah, yeah, up close—
I’ve heard it before—
You can’t stay here.
Where the hell have you been?

I killed people—for that
man—and no one wants
to give me a fucking bar of soap!

The President, who else.

There’s another President in the White House now, honey.

Take your pick! A likeable man becomes a tyrant just like any other man. In a democracy—likeability is tantamount to tyranny!

You’re drunk.

No—I’m not drunk! In a democracy, it is a likeeable man who gets elected. It is a likeable man who sends you to your death. What’s the difference.

There’s a difference between a—a—likeable man and an evil man.

I can tell you, you don’t feel the difference, when everyone gets zipped up in a body bag, and no one says anything about it, they just say “ZIP!” Because when there are guts—where skin should be—and skin, where guts should be—there’s no difference between a nice guy and an evil guy who sent you out to kill. One of them is photogenic—the other one isn’t—they both take you and they go ZIP.

I’m sorry for the bad things that have happened to you.

I don’t want your pity.

Then what do you want?

I won’t touch you, honey!

(Leaving the room) Don’t call me honey!

And could I please borrow a toothbrush?

She leaves the room.
She throws a pillow and blanket into the room.
She throws a toothbrush into the room.
She throws toothpaste into the room.
She shuts her door.
Violet enters.

I crawled out the back to see you.
Did you get my bird pictures in the mail?

Yeah. You’re getting real good with the bird pictures.

I’ve been learning about the architecture of feathers. The way they’re put together—layer upon layer. From the time of dinosaurs and angels. There is no homologue for feathers, that is to say there is no biological structure that resembles feathers. They came of themselves to the world because the birds needed them. But no one knows what came first, the bird, or the feather, or flight.

What grade are you in now?

There must be a God.

Why’d you come back?

I want my part back.

Someone else has it now.

Then why’d you come back.

Then why’d you leave?

Oh.
Can I see your hand?

P gives her his hand.
She drops it up and down, limp.
She kisses his dead hand.

What are you doing here?

What are you doing here?

I’m on a visit.

I’m on a visit too.

Kind of late in the evening for a visit.

Yeah, Violet, you should be in bed.

Don’t tell me what to do.

Thought you were in New York, L.A., something like that.

So what are you doing here.

They wanted me back for a benefit performance of the play. The President’s here, campaigning. He’s going to watch it.

Really. You’re doing the play for the President of the United States. Pretty fancy. It’s my lucky day. I’ve been meaning to talk to the President.

Don’t they put you up at a hotel?

Yeah. But I’m sick of hotels. Thought I’d see if the couch was available.

I reserved the couch.
Mary went to bed.
You want me to wake her up so you can say hello?

No.
I’m gonna head back to the hotel.

No. Stick around. Tell me about your life.
You married? Have kids?

Why not? Famous actor, good-looking . . .

Look, where the hell have you been, you could have called, told someone where the hell you landed.

No one wants to read letters from me.
I’m crazy, didn’t they tell you?

I didn’t need an expert to tell me that, actually.

Oh. By the way, I don’t care that you’ve been fucking my wife, actually . You should know that.

Violet, go inside.

Don’t talk like that in front of her.

Ignore the curse word, Violet.
I’m making a larger and more important point:

love’s more important than fucking. That ’ll be important for your teenage years.

(To J) Do you agree that love is more important than fucking?

So you admit it then!

You want to talk about love? You selfish piece of shit. You want to talk about love? I’ve been supporting this family for the last ten years.

P moves toward J.

Yes, I want to talk about love. I’m dying to. Brotherly love. Christ’s love for his disciples! Mary’s love for her child! And the most glorious—the most profound love of all—the actor’s great love of himself ! You vain puffed-up little turd! Come here!

P grabs J. A scuffle.

(Over the scuffle) Am I my brother’s keeper?
Am I my brother’s keeper?

No, you’re not!

Stop it! Stop it!

They suspend.

Did you know that orca whales are the only species who kill each other for fun, besides human beings? Did you know that Dad?

Who’s out there?

It’s only the wind.
(To J) Good night.

(To J) Good night.

(To both) Good night.

NINE: THE PLAY

The tail end of “The Star Spangled Banner,” sung by the ensemble.
Ronald Reagan with a hand over his heart, in a spotlight.
The song ends. Reagan waves his cowboy hat, and settles the crowd.
He gives a public speech:

Why, hello everyone. It’s morning in America. Isn’t it? I believe it is. The dawning of a . . . new dawn. But, make no mistake, Armageddon is coming. With metal horses and tanks and a red sky. I intend to stop it. God has a plan for me. I was once a lifeguard on the Rock River you know. Saved seventy-seven lives. If the tide is too much for you, I will save you.

I was at Mr. Gorbachev’s over there in Moscow. His son’s goldfish died. I replaced it. You think history is made by great wheels set in motion. Well it is. But it’s also made by small acts of generosity. I replaced a little boy’s goldfish and a wall came crumbling down. Mr. Gorbachev, tear down that wall!

Bob Hope once said what’s it like being President and I said, it’s like being an actor. Only you get to make up the lines yourself. Well, that’s not really true. Mr. Gorbachev, tear down that wall! How’s that sound?

My fellow Americans, we are a God-fearing nation. And God loves this country. Yes, He does. But we are in need of a great spiritual revival!

Cheering.
A light from the camera. A close-up shot.
A pivate speech.

I always liked the light from the camera. The light would go on and I would relax. All I saw was the light.

People say I wear a little rouge on my cheeks. It’s not true. When I am laid to rest my cheeks will be rosy still. My campaign manager said what can we do to get those ratings up. Get shot again I said. It was a joke.

You know what my first job was? A radio announcer for baseball games in Chicago. And you know what? I never even saw the ball games. The games were in Chicago, I was in Davenport, Iowa! They would telegraph the plays to me, and I would make the folks feel like they were there, even though I was—elsewhere! That’s what a great leader does. You don’t even need to be at the game!

Cheering. A public speech.

Yes, this country is in need of a great spiritual revival. A brighter future for—everyone. Now people have said I’m not concerned about the poor, about the homeless. Not true. They’re homeless, you might say, by choice.

Now you’re about to see a play about those values our country holds dear: family, God, and baseball. No, not baseball. God. And family. And intact families like Jesus, Mary and Joseph. And God, the Father. Two fathers, I know, but not really two fathers like that, not in that way, no, because those two fathers have the plague and will bring Armageddon down on the pure wheat fields of this land.

It’s morning in America. We are that city shining on a hill. We are a people chosen by God to settle a promised land. You are that promise. We are that promise. And now, I give you, the greatest story ever told.

Reagan waves and takes his seat. The play begins.
It is now more of a musical. Very professional.
They sing a song.

I will go
To the Father
And sit at His right side.
I will go
To the Father
The world to glorify.

My son! I must see you before you go away.

Mother, I am on my way to Jerusalem. The hour has come when I must offer myself.

Oh, my fears are terrible—

My hour has come.

I will go with you, even to death!

Mary 1 is acting better than she ever has in her life.

Be comforted. I will rise again.

Ah, God, give me strength that my heart does not break!

Reagan watches.
He wipes tears from his eyes.

Mary 1 and J embrace, full of love.
It is an odd extended moment.
They look into each other’s eyes,
less like the Virgin Mary and Jesus and more like lovers.

P, from the audience:

The scene suspends. Time stops.

(To the audience) Ever get the feeling
that you want to run onstage?
You want to move,
but you can’t?
It’s this horrible feeling,
as though you will run onstage
and speak lines all garbled—
lines you made up yourself?

(To the audience) I began to think of baseball.
Making it feel real for the crowds.
On the radio.
Bottom of the ninth.
The wind is gusting at Wrigley Field.
And now, the wind-up. And the
pitch—

This big stage
this stage of history,
this little block of wood
separates you from your most terrible fantasies—
it’s important, this piece of wood, this stage, between you and it—

Reagan stands.

Batter swings—and it’s a long fly ball to left field—and now my telegraph goes dead—it’s dead—and I have to make it all up myself—it’s a long fly ball, ladies and gentlemen, and it’s going, and it’s going—and it’s gone!

The crowd goes wild.

Mary!
Stop the play!

Everyone onstage finally hears him. People are frozen.

Well, hello Mr. President.

Reagan salutes P.
P salutes Reagan.

I never did serve in the military, but I feel as though I did. I made training films for soldiers during the war. It was one of the happiest times of my life.

Reagan salutes P.
P salutes Reagan.

What’s the matter, son? Dontcha have a part in the play?

No, Mr. President, I don’t.
Mary, I love you.
I always did.

P pulls out a gun.
A secret service agent leaps for P.
P points the gun at himself.
Blackout.

TEN: EPILOGUE—THE PRESENT

Lights up on P,
whose left hand is limp at his side.

You might think, at the very end, that I’d kill my brother. Kill myself. Kill my ex-wife. Big love triangle, bang bang, an American Passion Play. But that’s not how the story ends. I sat in my seat, and whispered: Mary, stop the play, and an old woman next to me said: shh.

I left the theater that day. Every month I take a bus to a different city. I sleep outside. That way I can hear the wind.

I send part of my disability check to Mary every month. She gives backstage tours at the theater. They replaced her with a professional actor. Sometimes I watch my brother on television. He’s on a soap opera. I can read what happens to his character in line at the grocery store. They have these—little magazines.

I have a P.O. box. Violet sends me pictures of birds. Every year since she was a kid they looked more and more like real birds. Then she went to college, became a painter, and since then, every year, they started looking less and less like real birds. She looks like my brother but she’s crazy like me, so who knows.

I started to believe in God again lately. Something about the light at night on a Greyhound bus going by a tollbooth. I think God is a tollbooth worker. Only he doesn’t give exact change. You hand him a dollar, he gives you a fish. Go figure.

I don’t know if this country needs more religion or less of it. Seems to me everyone needs a good night’s sleep. That way we’d all wake up for real in the morning. It’s good to be awake. When you’re awake you can fight for what you believe in, no matter what costume you’re wearing. Well. The more I talk the less you sleep.

I’ll summon the wind for you, so you can sleep better.

(The good people at the VA hospital got rid of most of my delusions but I like to keep one or two around.)

Now: wind.
(He conducts the wind) From the south. To the west. There.
Good night. Sweet dreams.
Sleep with the angels, Violet.

The wind machines.
The boats. The courtiers.
Big, beautiful fish puppets.
The sky turns white.
P gets on an enormous boat.
He opens his left hand to the sky.
He sails off into the distance.