kaolin fire presents :: writing :: fiction

"MrJones.1"

words

"Welcome."

"Who said that?"

"You did."

"Not that; welcome!"

"You just did."

"No, before that!"

"That was you as well."

"Who _are_ you?"

"Who are _you_?"

"_Who_ are _you_?"

"Nobody, I suppose. Mr. Jones to my intimates."

"Intimates, huh? Who is a Mr. to his intimates?"

"Perhaps you are."

"Me? That's laughable!"

"You."

"I have no intimates!"

"These things are all relative, Mr. Jones."

"Why do you call me that?"

"You accepted that name for me."

"But you called yourself that!"

"There's no need to get aggravated. These things happen."

"What things?"

"Things like this, apparently."

"What sort of thing is this? Who are you, Mr. Jones?"

"I'm an acquaintance of Mrs. Robinson's, if that helps any. A contemporary of hers, you might say. We've accompanied each other before."

"I don't know any Mrs. Robinson!"

"Ah. Neither do I, it seems."

"But you said you're an acquaintance of hers! Make yourself straight, or leave me be!"

"Leave you be? How would I?"

"March straight out the way you came in, I'd think!"

"Goo googajoob, I'm afraid."

"The hell you say?"

"Precisely."

"What?"

"Hell. Stuck here with you for eternity. I dare say we should get to know each other better."

"Why can't I see you? Where did these white padded--white padded walls! Where did these walls come from? What have you done?"

"I see. How long have you been having these delusions?"

"Delusions? What delusions?"

"When did you first see these padded walls?"

"Talking to you, just now. You must have... given me drugs... poison--in the air! Hell and brimstone, I don't know! Magic?"

"I see. How long have you been having these delusions?"

"Why do you repeat yourself?"

"Pardon my attempt at bludgeoning in my subtlety. Think on it, though."

"What delusions?"

"I see."

"What do you mean, you see? Who are you?"

"Perhaps a bit more circumspection to put things into perspective: how long have you believed in magic?"

"I don't!"

"Ah ha! Good! Now then, when did you first see these padded walls?"

"I don't know!"

"Progress. We're making progress. That does so bring me joy. Perhaps soon you will see as I see."

"You see?"

"Yes."

"I don't."

"Give it more time."

"Give what more time?"

"Give it more time to sink in. You're fighting it."

"You *did* poison me!"

"It's just your mind, though I can not truly take credit for that. I didn't exist yet, then, you see."

"I see."

"Do you really, or are you humoring me?"

"I don't see at all!"

"Ah well. Tell me, when did you first see these padded walls?"

"Just now!"

"And what before that?"

"What do you mean?"

"What do you remember of your past?"

"What _part_ of my past? I can answer any question you toss at me, though I don't know why I'd want to."

"Your first kiss?"

"I remember, but it's none of your business."

"Truly? Well and good. Your first job?"

"Certainly."

"Your last job?"

"Last? Why... I believe so. Monologues; I write monologues."

"Good, very good, you're almost there. What happened two weeks ago?"

"Two weeks... Two weeks? What day is today?"

"Hmm. What happened last night?"

"I don't know! The usual, I'm sure."

"This morning?"

"I woke up."

"What did you wake up to?"

"You, saying welcome."

"Ah, but you said that."

"Only after you!"

"Are you so sure?"

"Shouldn't I be?"

"Oh, you shouldn't be certain of anything just at the moment. I wouldn't be, if I were you. What happened last night?"

"I said I don't know! What more do you want from me?"

"Do you remember going to sleep?"

"I don't... yes, I think so."

"What were your surroundings?"

"My room."

"Good, very good. What was the date then?"

"April twelfth. I had plans the next day for lunch."

"Excellent. What was your mood when you went to bed?"

"I was feeling frustrated. Limited by monologues..."

"Yes?"

"I swore I'd lose my sanity to do a dialogue, just one--just one to remove myself from the stagnation of yet another same old day in, day out."

"Yes..."

"And here I am, talking..."

"Yes."

"To myself."

The padded walls are pushed out of the way by stage hands, and the audience stands, applauding.