There’s no need to declare war, we are war.
In the unlikely event peace ever comes we’ll declare that because there at long last might be something worth expending breath over. Until then of course assume the drums are war drums as what else could they be, consonant with all we’ve seen of humanity? For ours is a history of ever-evolving warfare and this is as it should be.
CLARISSA: You’re an adolescent.
NESTOR: Me?
CLARISSA: Who else would adopt such an adolescent viewpoint? You feel only war in your heart and so project it onto the world at large. You then credit and celebrate only that which you would expect to find in such a world while the far more prevalent and contradictory sensory input all around you is not allowed to register.
NESTOR: Judge a man or in this case Man by his initial or primary act. Be sure that man first raised his hand not to draw on a cave or to point out danger to another. No he raised it while holding the jawbone of an ass and lowered it violently to smite his fellow man that he might acquire a handful of berries. A handful of berries. Do you doubt that happened?
CLARISSA: No. Nor do I doubt that several of us tried to stop him, that the assailant was ostracized afterwards, and that as the victim lay on the dirt with his mortal wound someone, most likely a woman, dropped down next to him to attend to his injuries.
NESTOR: A lot of good that would do.
CLARISSA: I agree, a lot. For lacking the medical savvy to properly heal the body she instead ministered to his soul.
NESTOR: No such thing.
CLARISSA: A ministry that may have consisted entirely of holding his mangled hand as his brief life slowed to a halt.
NESTOR: You can’t be serious. Follow the history of that jawbone as it evolves into a device capable of annihilating an entire city under a fungal cloud. Watch as we enslave each other.
CLARISSA: And others risk their lives to liberate them.
NESTOR: Slaughter each other for patches of dirt.
CLARISSA: Cultivate soil to feed the hungry.
NESTOR: Focus on the woman holding that dead hand if you wish Clarissa but that won’t change the fact that the dead draw no consolation from such a handholding.
CLARISSA: Untrue. And when Charles went we should have been holding his!
NESTOR: No! The end of an opera is more singing, of a higher intensity. How then should a life end? Its atavistic mayhem can only be properly resolved in the kind of apotheostic violence we witnessed.
You would seek to paint me in bad-guy colors. Why? Because I wanted Charles to retain his considerable dignity? Charles was like a son to me.
ADAM: He was maybe twice your age.
NESTOR: Would you have me watch idly as my son disintegrates before my very eyes?
CLARISSA: Give me the gun then.
LINDA: No, as a neutral party I should have the gun.
ADAM: Neutral?
NESTOR: Party?
CLARISSA: Unless everyone’s comfortable with the only gun being in the hands of a self-avowed nihilist.
NESTOR: Did you say realist?
(The Drumming resumes, slightly louder still, and in response the four again grow briefly silent.)
ADAM: Hear that? Maybe Clarissa’s right. Maybe the drums are harmless and are coming only to keep time to symphonic delights. But right now we are far less likely to regret adopting Nestor’s view. We need to arm ourselves and expect the worst.
NESTOR: Expecting the worst is the armament.
ADAM: I was thinking of more traditional weaponry but thanks. There are some thick branches nearby that can be shaved into spears. Linda and I will go gather…
LINDA: No.
ADAM: No what?
LINDA: No I’m not going anywhere.
NESTOR: Oh will you look at this Clarissa? Looks like you and I aren’t the only couple on the rocks.
ADAM: Linda a good idea transcends any interpersonal difficulties we might be having and I expect you to recognize one when you hear it.
NESTOR: A good idea he says.
CLARISSA: Do we need to remind you what happened the last time somebody left?
ADAM: Doesn’t mean it will happen again.
NESTOR: That’s true Clarissa. Besides, suicide is a legitimate option, cowardly but legitimate nevertheless.
ADAM: Suicide? I’m curious how you think this all-out warfare you counsel is going to occur if we don’t leave this room?
NESTOR: Is that your concern? Don’t let it be. The anger of epochal conflict is coming to us, right here, whether we’d have it or not.
(Drums sound again, louder.)
See?
ADAM: Let me be frank Nestor.
NESTOR: No problem Frank.
ADAM: But being that you have our only gun you are in a wholly different position than the rest of us.
NESTOR: I’m upright like the rest of you.
LINDA: And don’t think we’re unaware of the rule that says that thing has to go off soon either.
NESTOR: Rules, conventions, norms! I feel such great envy right now. I fervently wish I had your collective astigmatism. Could see only the minutiae as the cosmic nears.
LINDA: Please, refract for us that we might clearly see your wisdom.
NESTOR: I fear that it is fear itself that approaches and what is occurring in this room presently is remotely causing it to grow more monstrous. Search inside yourselves and ask if you haven’t contributed your share.
CLARISSA: I fear then only that I’ve been a bad citizen of this body politic. For I have not contributed my just share. Because perhaps you’ll call it mere semantics but I give nothing that forms inside me the name Fear.
NESTOR: I didn’t intend to insult, only to forewarn and enlighten.
ADAM: Well I feel lighter already so I’m going to go now and get those spears, the heavier the better that I might acquire some density.
LINDA: It is a dense move.
ADAM: I trust then you’re not coming?
(Linda sits, looks down, puts her face in her hands.)
CLARISSA: No one should go anywhere alone. No one should be alone. Ever really but especially not now… here.
ADAM: I won’t be alone.
LINDA: I’m not going.
ADAM: I understand.
NESTOR: Meaning that unless Clarissa is going to deposit her money where her mouth resides you will be alone.
ADAM: She won’t, but still I won’t be alone.
CLARISSA: If no one goes with you, Adam, you will not only be alone you will most likely die alone. Understand?
ADAM: I don’t expect any of you to understand; well there was a time I would’ve expected Linda… but never mind all that.
NESTOR: Understand what?
ADAM: That even when I’m the only person in motion I don’t feel alone.
LINDA: Stop Adam.
NESTOR: No our ears cry out for more! Explain.
ADAM: There’s more exists, Nestor, than that which feeds eyes or ears.
NESTOR: Is that so?
(looks at others mirthfully)
ADAM: And it’s that presence will protect me as I venture out.
NESTOR: I see. I think that’s what Charles thought just before he lost his head.
ADAM: Since the Evil that did that undoubtedly exists there has to be a countervailing Good.
CLARISSA: Adam don’t go out there relying on that.
LINDA: Yes, she’s right, if you have to go then go but not propelled by that belief. That somehow makes it worse.
ADAM: It’s that belief that’s sustained us since time immemorial.
NESTOR: I see. He’s right then. He’s not going alone. Superstition’s going with him. Of course, superstition’s got a perfect record in these matters. In exultant victory we pause to credit her but in abject defeat we either ignore her or wonder how we failed to live up to her unknowable mandates. Either way those prone to belief never doubt her grace and power. Nice work if you can get it.