Characters:-
Chett.
Woman. 18 years old.
Singh.
Man. 18 years old.
(Inside
a University classroom. Chairs and tables for students. The teacher's
table is upstage centre. The door, wide open, is downstage-left, and
has an official notice taped to it. Singh enters. He is carrying a
satchel. He sees the notice taped to the door. He pauses to read the
notice. He moves the teacher's table to upstage-right, at an angle,
and sits on the chair at the table, facing downstage-left. He takes
out writing material and a book from his satchel. He makes notes as
he reads. Chett enters. She has a shoulder-slung purse. )
Singh:
(Indifferently.) Hi.
Chett:
(Uneasily.) Hi. (He returns to reading-writing. She looks at him
suspiciously for a few seconds before quickly and furtively moving to
search under student tables and chairs. She sits on a chair at a
downstage-left student table, upstage of the door. She opens her
purse and aimlessly rummages in it. )
Singh:
Chett, you do know there's no class today? (She looks at him in
surprise. He points to the notice on the door. She takes her purse
with her when she goes to the door to read the notice.) Professor
Sneddon made the announcement at the last class. That notice, I
suppose, is for those who were absent.
Chett:
I was there. You saw me. And, please, only my Mother calls me Chett.
My name's Seridha, thank you.
Singh:
Yes, I saw you. Seridha. You dashed out of the room the moment
Sneddon ended the lecture. Somebody reminded her to make the
announcement. (She moves to exit, but pauses as a thought occurs to
her. She turns and looks at him sternly.)
Chett:
So, you knew there was no class today?
Singh:
(Not taking his eyes off his writing.) Uh, yes.
Chett:
And yet here you are.
Singh:
(With an attempt at a smile.) Waiting for you?
Chett:
(Abruptly.) I don't have time for this. (Turns to go. His words stop
her.)
Singh:
And yet, here you are. Too. Seridha.
Chett:
(Turning impatiently.) What's that supposed to mean?
Singh:
This is a regular class time. That means we have at least
fifty
minutes to talk. (She is visibly uncomfortable, and angry.)
Chett:
I told you I do not have that kind of feeling for you. You
should
not have said you love me. I gave you no encouragement. (He is
surprised at her outburst. He stops writing. He pays full attention
to her.)
Singh:
Whoa, Che--, uh, Seridha! Whoa! It's not about that. Water
under
the bridge. I've moved on. Totally.
Chett:
What, then? (Sarcastically) Totally?
Singh:
Well, uh, for instance, Sneddon says Fate is not the same as
God
in "Romeo And Juliet". You disagreed with her. You said
Fate is God. Generated an exciting discussion. (She looks at him in
disbelief.)
Chett:
(Impatiently and sarcastically dismissive.) I have
nothing
more to say about that. 'Water under the bridge. I've moved on.
Totally.' (She moves to exit.)
Singh:
How about why you came here? (She turns angrily to face him.)
Chett:
I did not know the class had been cancelled.
Singh:
Oh, come now! Your best friend, scatter-brained blabber-mouth Dreen
did not dash out with you. It was she who reminded Sneddon to make
the announcement. You telling me motor-mouth Dreen did not tell you?
Chett:
Just what are you up to, Singh?
Singh:
Me? Nothing. Totally. I'm just going along with Fate or God or
whatever made me find your satchel. Under that very table you're
sitting at. Imagine that? Right by the door. Everybody passed it.
Nobody else noticed it.
Chett:
You looked inside?
Singh:
I had to look inside to find out who the owner was. So that I
could return it.
Chett:
Now that you know who the owner is, return it.
Singh:
Absolutely. Totally. But you have to agree that satchel was
given
to me by Fate, or God. I mean what are the odds that, of all people,
it was I who found it? There has to be some specifically deliberate
Higher Purpose at work here.
Chett:
I'm having trouble believing that anyone in this day and age sees
Fate and God as more than mere metaphors. Are you really that
backward? I did not say Fate is God. I said I disagreed with Sneddon
that we had to choose between Fate and God to understand the play.
Fate and God both equally negate choice. Romeo and Juliet made bad
choices. But you, obviously, are like most students in that class.
You worship Elizabeth Sneddon. You cannot think independently when
'the great' Sneddon speaks. The immediate issue here is that I turned
you down, and because your love is so pure, some god has given you
leverage over me?
Singh:
I don't see it as leverage---
Chett:
I don't give a Tinker’s malediction what you see it as, you devious
puny retard! You made a choice to tell me. My reply to you was my
choice. Isn't that kind of choice pure Sneddon, you---you
Sneddon-sycophant suck-up?
Singh:
You're upset. I'm sorry. Seridha.
Chett:
What do you want for my satchel, given to you by God and
Fate?
Money? Sex? I don't have money. I live with my mother. She's on a
pension. I am a full-time student here at the University. I have a
part-time job. I don't have any money! So it has to be payback sex
you’re after, you degenerate slimy worm!
Singh:
Stop ranting, Seridha. Someone will hear you. We are in a public
classroom. I don't want sex with you. Your gangster boyfriend, Rex
Chetty, will kill me.
Chett:
Bet your boots he will. Stay away from me, for your own good,
you
moron!
Singh:
I know. He's already threatened me. I told you; you ran to tell him;
he threw me against a wall and said if he sees me so much as looking
your way, he will blind me, for life.
Chett:
(Surprised, and a little apologetic.) I
didn't know he
would do that. He did not tell me he was going to do that. That's not
my fault.
Singh:
You're right. Sometimes we don't know people closest to us. I'm not
blaming you. He was just being true to his low IQ gangster self. I
was stupid for blurting it out to you like that. But, hey, love makes
us do foolish things. Romeo? Juliet? As you rightly observed. Also,
really, I did not have sex in mind when I, you know, blurted
out----stuff.
Chett:
(Sarcastically.) Really?
Singh:
Really. Believe me, Seridha. I don't understand it myself. To me you
are very attractive. But not in a sexual way. You're a bit bony
anorexic for me. The nearest I get to explaining it adequately to
myself is that you are so clear and independent in your thinking. I
have never known any student to disagree with a professor the way you
do. And all the time you have been right. (Utterly flummoxed, she
glares, speechlessly, at him for a few seconds. He preens.)
Chett:
(Derisively.) No sex? I understand. Your love is so
pure it
won't allow you to have sex with someone who has no interest in you.
(Defiantly.) And whom you have found to be a cheat because you
snooped about in her private belongings. You make me sick!
Singh:
(He speaks slowly, pretending to be writing so that he does
not
have to look at her.) I was at your home this
morning. I left
the satchel and its contents with your Mom. I expected you to be
there. Your Mom said Chett was not home because Chett
said since class was cancelled, Chett was going
shopping. So,
Chett lied to her Mom who is on a pension. It
was nice
talking to your Mom. My Mom has the same accent. My Mom's on a
pension, too, Seridha. (He stops writing. He looks
at her, and
leans forward a little.) By the way, when I opened
your
satchel, I saw your name and professor Lionel’s comments on the
incriminating documents. I removed them. I took the liberty to
destroy them. As for the cheating itself, I didn't know about it
until you admitted it here. (She averts eye-contact.) You can go now,
Chett, you self-confessed conniving suck-up to a
cheating
teacher. Oh, by-the-way, I had nothing to do with that rumour going
around that you and Rex are actually blood relatives. (She is
paralyzed in anger. Exploiting her paralysis, he hastily grabs
together his things, and exits. Lights fade as she bursts out of her
paralysis and chases after him with murderous intent. Blackout.)
~The End~
