Carpe Fuckin' Diem

a play for the end of the world

Welcome to gangletown, where each week you’ll receive original essays, pieces of fiction, poetry, cultural commentary, or journalism written by David Kimple. If that is good for your vybe and you’d like access to everything gangletown has to offer, check out subscription options here.

---

Carpe fuckin’ Diem - a short play

December 31st, 1999.

A dark and cluttered basement.

RUFUS - a very small, old man - crawls out of a clothes dryer and yawns a big yawn. He closes his eyes and enjoys the smallest ray of sunshine sun, creeping in through a small window where the ceiling meets the wall. It warms his face. He moves to the center of the room, climbs a pile of stuff, pulls a string, and turns on a light. He closes his eyes and tries to find more warmth on his face there.

MARLENE - a young, chipper, and charming woman - zips out of the storage closet. Immaculate. The inside of the closet is full of youthful color and décor.

MARLENE: Rufus!  

RUFUS: Good Morning, Marlene.

MARLENE: Good morning. I heard you pull the light and I knew it was finally time for today to finally happen.

RUFUS: Keep your voice down. I don’t know who is still asleep.

MARLENE: I couldn’t sleep. I’ve been in my room all night just waiting for today to start. I’m buzzing.

RUFUS: Ah. I think I feel quite similar, my dear.

MARLENE: Yes.

RUFUS: Though I’m rather confident that things will pan. They always do for this lot.

MARLENE: You really think things have panned out so far? Even down here?

RUFUS: I’ve certainly been unhappier.

MARLENE: I like the way you think, Rufus. Did someone teach you to think that way?

RUFUS: No one person in particular.

MARLENE: So…everyone then?

RUFUS: An amalgamation indeed.

MARLENE: You see, I just love that. I love it. I want to soak up everyone the way you have.

RUFUS: You should. Only take care not to let too much get to you. Not everyone is worth letting in. But you know that.

MARLENE: I do know that.

RUFUS: I know you do.

MARLENE: Yeah.
- - -

RUFUS moves to a sink. He feels the water.

RUFUS: Cold again.

MARLENE: You expect something warmer?

RUFUS: Every time. I do, for some reason. Even though I know it is arctic.

MARLENE stands next to RUFUS at the sink and sticks her hand in the water.

MARLENE: I doesn’t feel so cold after you wait a little while.

RUFUS: Because your hand goes numb. Proof that you can get used to strange things. Just have to sit through the uncomfortable part.

MARLENE: ---
Sorry- am I bothering you?

RUFUS: You’re not usually up this early. I have a routine.

MARLENE: Old squirrel. I have a routine too.

RUFUS continues the sink. MARLENE starts to pack a bag. This continues for a moment. An almost silence between them. Suddenly - hard and heavy thuds coming from the stairwell.

MARLENE: Already? It’s barely dawn. Already? Really?

RUFUS: Get in. Shut your door, Marlene.

MARLENE: I’m scared, Roof.

RUFUS: Everything’s going to be fine. Now hush. Shut your door. We’re going to be fine. Stick to the plan.  

MARLENE shuts the doors to her closet and RUFUS zips back into the dryer, closing the door quietly. The thumping stops. A moment goes by and MARLENE opens her door to find out what is going on. It’s safe. She knocks on the door of the dryer.

MARLENE: Roof! Roof, it’s stopped. That wasn’t it. I’m still here.

MARLENE goes to the sink, pushes her face deep into the stream of water, and hums a song of summer to herself.

SPRUCE (OS): Y’all trying to wake the dead?

SPRUCE - a charming young man, clean-cut and mild - comes out from his space. MARLENE continues with her song under the water.

SPRUCE: Not that I’m dead. Not yet.

But if I were dead and waking for the first time, this is definitely how I’d like to be spending my re-birthday. With you.

A voice like that could wake the angels.

Sometimes I think you’re an angel, you know. Not in the way people just say it willy nilly, though. Everything about you is bright. It glows. Like in those old pictures and colorful windows and tattoos and stuff about angels. You have those beams of light around you. They shine from behind you, so you could never really see them yourself.

Is that weird? Sorry. I woke up today with a bit more courage.

Hey, Marlene, could I ask you something?

MARLENE turns the water down and removes her face from the sink.

MARLENE: Numb.

SPRUCE: Numb?

MARLENE: AH!

SPRUCE: AH!

MARLENE: Oh my god, Spruce. You ’bout scared the bagillity out of me!

SPRUCE: I- I- I’m sorry! I thought you knew I was- I’ve been talking for like a whole minute.

MARLENE: Really?

SPRUCE: You didn’t hear me?

MARLENE: No. I was just washing up. The sink. I couldn’t-

SPRUCE: Okay.

MARLENE: Making my heart race.

SPRUCE: Sorry.

MARLENE: What were you saying?

SPRUCE: Nothing special.

MARLENE: No?

SPRUCE: Just giving you a hard time about that ruckus you were making.

MARLENE: Sorry. Roof is up too. He went back in his hole. We got scared half to death by that- whatever that was.

SPRUCE: I see.

A moment.

MARLENE: Hey, Spruce? If nothing happens and we’re all okay, what will you do?

SPRUCE: I haven’t really thought about that option, to be honest. What about you? Will you leave?

MARLENE: I don’t know. It’s hard to imagine leaving. This hole is kind of my place. I found it first and so maybe I might like to stay? Combustion or come bullshit at least it’s mine.

SPRUCE: Yes. Me too.

MARLENE: But I don’t know. It’s a little hard to sit still sometimes…

SPRUCE: Right.

MARLENE: It’s- do you tell people the truth? About where we live?

SPRUCE: My friends know the truth. But then again, all my friends live here. I don’t have many. At least there is you.

MARLENE: There is me.

SPRUCE: We’re kind of friends.

MARLENE: You’re sweet, Spruce.

SPRUCE: You don’t think we’re friends.

MARLENE: I don’t know.

MARLENE continues to pack a bag and sings lightly to herself.

From beneath another pile, GERTRUDE chimes in with MARLENE. GERTRUDE is a strong, daunting woman of a certain age. She wears the world on her skin.

GERTRUDE: You sing songs with that pretty little voice all day but don’t listen to yourself. What you’re actually saying.

MARLENE: Not today, Gertrude. Keep to yourself and I’ll to myself. It will make these last couple of hours a bit more bearable…

And hey - I listen.

GERTRUDE: Listen to the sound of your voice, not the substance.

MARLENE: I listen to my words, I choose them on purpose. And I listen to my friends.

GERTRUDE: That’s right you’ve got ’friends’ outside. Pretty little princess with a world outside these walls. Lucky girl.

MARLENE: That’s not what I meant-

GERTRUDE: Oh, were you trying to say that you listen to your friends here? I thought you just said Spruce wasn’t a ’friend’? Although it’s pretty clear that he thinks rather highly of you.

MARLENE: I did not say he wasn’t a friend. I said I didn’t know. People throw things like "friend" and "love" around like jellybeans.

GERTRUDE: Stupid girl. I can’t wait ’til you grow up.

MARLENE: You won’t be around to see it.

GERTRUDE: Is that a threat?

MARLENE: No. It’s a fact. Thank goodness! Get this woman out of my world.

GERTRUDE: You’re lost.

MARLENE: Get off the soapbox, Gert. I didn’t ask you for an evaluation.

GERTRUDE: But you should have. You should be better.

MARLENE: Be better?

GERTRUDE: Do better.

MARLENE: Do better what? And why me? What are you even talking about? Crazy witch spouting off a bunch of nonsense. I was here before you were. I don’t know what you were doing out there before you fell down that stairwell and I welcomed you in, but I was here first so show some respect. And I have seen a bit of the world so stop talking down to me. I mean it.

GERTRUDE: Do you know how good you have things here? Here in this basement, you got a roof and insulation. Running water.

MARLENE: Cold water.

GERTRUDE: Water, you ignorant little mouse! You’ve got water. You’ve got a family of odd sorts to check you in and check you out when you leave. People that wonder if you’re okay. Even me for you. I may think you’re an absent little nitwit but at least I know when you’re gone and I know that when you’ve made it back. That you didn’t die or disappear. Not everyone’s got that luxury.

MARLENE: No. They don’t. You’re right. Count your blessings, Gert. Got it. Whatever.

MARLENE moves to go to her room.

GERTRUDE: Don’t act surprised when you still hate the world tomorrow.

MARLENE: If it exists.

MARLENE shuts the door.

SPRUCE: You’re nasty sometimes, Gert. I don’t get it.

GERTRUDE: She doesn’t listen and you don’t get it. Or don’t care. Or your self-esteem is too low to care that she doesn’t see the real you.

SPRUCE: What she does see is plenty. I don’t have a lot to offer and she is still here with me.

GERTRUDE: She’s not with you. Don’t fool yourself. Don’t don’t don’t. If we wake up tomorrow morning, she’s out of here and she won’t come back. She’s packing a bag now, barely realizes she’s doing it. She might not know it but there ain’t no way she’ll stick around. I promise you that.

You put too much hope in her. She’s alone in the brain.

SPRUCE: What do you mean?

GERTRUDE: Each of us people, we’ve got a picture of ourselves. It matches the list of things we tell people when we’re gettin’ to know ’em. A list that gives ’em an idea of what we represent in the world. Me? Up there, above ground, I always started with work. Work was who I was. Start every conversation with little tidbits and details about my latest project. After that, I’d go immediately to where in the world my older books were being recognized and awarded. Then, and only then, if I even got this far, I’d talk about my family or my dog or home or vacation. Ya see what I mean?

Do you think that girl goes up there and talks about you? Are you part of her identity? Do you think she includes you on her list at all? Not me. Surely not me. No partner, no family. She has no equals. Her picture is in the clouds.

That girl- she comes off like she’s a dreamer- all butterflies and hope- but she’s dark inside down here with us and the lice. She is alone.

But you might be worse because you don’t even have a picture at all, do you? You think of yourself in the world and you see nothing. You’re blank. Who are you?

SPRUCE: I don’t talk much to other people.

GERTRUDE: Baby boy, if not today of all days then when? Talk to me, tell me somethin’.

SPRUCE: I don’t have much to say.

GERTRUDE: What if this world explodes tonight? The computers glitch and the bombs go off and bank accounts empty and we’re all gone or fighting for our lives. Shooting each other and pillaging and shit. You think about that for a little bit. This might be your last chance. You really have nothing to say? Just in case?

GERTRUDE turns on the sink and dips her entire head in the water.

Woooooooohhhiieee!

SPRUCE bangs on the dryer.

SPRUCE: Hey Rufus? Rufus? Come out here. We need a calming presence.

No answer.

Rufus, do you think we’re going to die?

GERTRUDE: Yes.

No answer.

MARLENE bursts out of her room and disappears up the stairwell in a flash. GERTRUDE has turned off the water and shakes her head around like a dog.

SPRUCE: Yeesh, Gert, you’re soaking me. Stop mopping me like a border collie.

GERTRUDE continues shaking her hair and walks out. Up the stairs. Gone.

SPRUCE is left alone in the basement. He goes back to the dryer.

SPRUCE: Rufus, Marlene went out for something I guess and Gertrude is up and away too. You can come out. I’ll let you read in quiet or do your exercises or whatever you’d like.

No Answer.

SPRUCE opens the door to Rufus’ drier - RUFUS is peacefully dead. Gone.

MARLENE comes back downstairs out of breath.

MARLENE: New record. Whew.

SPRUCE: What are you doing?

MARLENE: Training. In case we need to get out of here.

SPRUCE: It would be safer in here than out there.

MARLENE: But what if we flood? The pipes burst or something and we’re watching the water rise around our ankles like Jack and Rose?

SPRUCE: That sounds better than burning alive on the surface.

MARLENE: Maybe. At least we’d go numb.

SPRUCE: But you know, I think we’re all wrong about what’s going to happen tonight.

MARLENE: Do you?

SPRUCE: They’ve been preparing for a long time now.

MARLENE: You think they fixed all the problems?

SPRUCE: I think we have no idea what is going to happen at midnight and I prefer to imagine that we will survive and life will happen and it will be inspiring.

MARLENE: I’m just preparing for th-

SPRUCE: But in this instance-

MARLENE: I just don’t believe it-

SPRUCE: And who cares if it does? Why are you so scared?

MARLENE: I don’t want to die. I haven’t really even had a life yet. No love or career or house. None of the real stuff. I want to be a person one day, you know?

SPRUCE: What’s stopping you from that?

MARLENE: The end of the fucking earth?

SPRUCE: Right. That.

MARLENE: How are you so calm and fine? What do you know that I don’t?

SPRUCE: Well Rufus is dead - curled up in his dryer like a ’roo in a papoose. It doesn’t look so scary now. He is adorable. Peaceful and simple and quiet.

MARLENE opens the dryer and sees RUFUS.

We’re definitely going to die but it might not be at the end of the earth. It will just be at the end of our lives - whenever that it is.

You want a life? Love and babies and a house? Me too. Let’s go outside and make all of that together. I’m here. I want you. I can be a partner.

MARLENE: I can’t.

SPRUCE: WHY.

MARLENE: I think the world going down in flames. I think it is going to hurt.

SPRUCE: For you, it already does.

MARLENE: Yes.

SPRUCE: Okay…then you might as well kill yourself and make more space for the people willing to actually live.

SPRUCE walks out. Gone.

- - -

MARLENE plugs the drain in the sink, turns on the faucet, and watches. This happens for what might be ever.

End of play.

---

If you love gangletown, please share it with a friend. Follow & Tag me @DKimps on Twitter & Instagram.