The Lost and Weary

Devoid of all emotion;
I march on.


Empty shell I have become;
So to the fire I come.


Have I been a monster?
A thing with legs like a spider?


Have I been a puritan;
Comitting no sin unlike any man?


Or was I simply a broken soul?
Who has never come near to its goal?


Woe to me; woe to my comrades.
For we are all fallen lads.


I am lost; and could never come back.
I am alive; yet I am shelved in a rack.


Art thou listening, beautiful stranger?
Is my salvation in your location there?

THE WEIRD AND PERVERSE THEATRE

Three: The Script

I felt my heart race upon hearing father's footsteps come closer to where I was. I looked at mother's eyes and she looked back, seemingly mad. She grabbed my book and stuffed it back inside the white hen's straw nest just before father joined the fray.

"What are you two doing here? I was calling for you, son," father spoke.

"We were feeding the chickens, father," mother replied, with an uneasy tone, which father easily missed.

"You go finish that, and follow me to the barn. Our carabao needs to be cleaned," says father before he left. Mother smiled at him until he was completely out of sight, then she turned to me.

"Do you know what will happen to you if father sees that?" mother whispered intensely, pointing to what was hidden beneath the straw.
My response came in the form of shaking my head from left to right. Mother sighed and she snatched the book from under the white hen.

"Why didn't you tell me you wanted to read?" mother quietly asked of me, now smiling excitedly.

"You know how to read?" I asked mother with the same excitement that she had.

"Of course I do! I reached high school!" mother replied, trying to contain herself.

"So, mother," I held the book in front of her, "What does this book say?"

She explained to me that the book was called the Bible, the guide to every man's life and that it was God's words. At first, mother read the words to me slowly, showing me how each letter is read. Everyday we would repeat this, after we had done our chores, and when father was away. Slowly but surely, I learned the meaning of each symbol, forming in my mind a new consciousness which told me that new words are hiding inside these wonderful things called books.

Soon enough, I moved from reading the Bible to other books that mom had stashed inside her wooden box by the chicken coop. As I read more and more of these books, I learned of what the outside world looked like, felt like, and even smelled like. Slowly, I realized how dull and monotonous my life was. Little by little, I yearned to see what the outside world looked like.

One day, I was walking along the fields, pondering on everything I've read from the books. I wondered if any of those things could be real, especially those from the Bible. Could someone really split a sea in two? While meditating on those musings, I unwittingly wanderedc into the roadside leading to the town. I looked behind me to see if I was far away from our small hut. It was a good distance away, but I thought it was fine if I walked on, as long as I could still see our hut.

But my little mind was distracted by the sound of tinkling bells and funny music coming from behind me. The sound, as it appeared, came from a colorful van full of colorful things and equally colorful and cheerful people. They wore multicolored costumes, had paint on their faces and lips; and some had facetious hairstyles.

The vehicle stopped in front of me, and the music stopped. From the vehicle, out stepped a stout man in a tuxedo and a top hat. He was different from the other people in the vehicle. He wasn't wearing a colorful costume; he had no paint on his cheeks; his nose wasn't round and red but long and crooked; his hair wasn't red or yellow or blue, rather it was black and reached his shoulders. He did not look funny, but I was drawn to this man.

From the sleeve of his tuxedo, he pulled out a handkerchief. He stretched it out in front of me and had me see both sides of it. He then rolled it into a crumply ball and threw it up in the air. He caught it, and it seemed to have changed its shape, He removed the cloth, and a lollipop was found.

The lollipop was so colorful and looked so sweet that I wanted it.

"You want it?" asked the man in my native tongue.

My reply was an eager nod and an outstretched hand. The man's lips broke into a smile and handed the candy to me.

"Be a good boy," he said, patting my head.

They played the music again and continued up the road. I could only make out three words from the banner hung behind the vehicle--"The", "and", and "Theatre". The other two words looked like "wide" and "parrots". I licked the candy as I returned home, hopping in joy. I got home just in time for supper with the usual dish of dried fish and rice. As we were eating, I told mother and father about the people who gave me the lollipop. I described how they looked like and about the magic the man did for me.

"Ah it's the circus folk," father said. "They usually come to town this part of the year,"

"But next time, don't take anything from strangers, no matter how funny they look," mother warned me.

That was the lesson I should've followed so I would be spared of this hell. Simple words they may seem, but coming from a mother, these words are golden.

I fell asleep right after supper. I dreamt about nice and funny things for a while, then from a dark side of my unconsciousness, out came the circus man, walking towards me, holding another lollipop for me. Behind him were little children wanting the candy too, but the circus man just ignored their calls. He is coming for me; he is coming! He is coming , and he has a lollipop for me.


--The Stage Director