Its late night, just doing my routine, cleaning under the chairs, picking popcorn off the floor. I start mopping down the isles of chairs working my way down the ramp to the stage. It was a beautiful night; full house, people were engaged with the actors as they ran their story. The actors were great, they worked together so well. complimented each other. Played right into one another. i couldn't imagine that play with a single person being different. I laugh to myself as I remember this line and that line, all along flopping my mop from side to side down the isle. Well, time to change the water again. On my way back with fresh water i say goodnight to the last staff members leaving for the night. We look at each other, do the nod, smile and they say "great night see you next week." "yeah it was." I smile back and say goodnight locking the door behind them and head back to finnish the floors. Its usually like this, I close the night out alone. I get to see what most don't, the theater has a life after a show. It's like the energy of the audience is still there. So as I often do when I'm alone after a night like this before the energy leaves. I adjust the house lights back down, stage spots back up and take the stage. I've done this for years. And like usual as the minutes start to roll on I forget how ridiculous I would seam if someone were to see me. I seam to get swallowed into my own imagination. It's not the play that was just seen. In fact its not a play that has ever been seen, by anyone. I play my part; the lead part in fact :) And as I move about the stage, interacting through the scenes, its as if others were there with me on stage. if you were to walk in the room and see me there on stage, entranced in my parts to play it would seem as if your eyes lied, saying that I was the only one in the room. The parts have such a vivvid reality. Scenes progress, not a one ever written down or planned out, but the story progresses so naturally it's as if we've all played our parts every night for years now. The story crescendos, to the finally musical number. and people shift to the edges of their chairs not wanting to miss a note of the song or a step of the dance. The supporters fade from the backdrop and soon its just me and my leading lady. This happens to be my favorite part. The choreography is so smooth that it steals the breath from the tip of your tongue. Your eyes seam to swell as a smirk shows through your face. "Nailed it!" but its also the part I hate, because as sudden as the breath leaves. The apex is reached and everyone relaxes as breathing returns. But not me, No...I'm the only one in the room holding my breath, like i do every time, because although its never worked before, it seams logical to me that my breath will move time from this moment. But as breathing becomes necessary, I realize again that it hasn't worked. And as the final dance draws closed my own foot steps seam louder and louder, Every step stands out more than the last until their sound eventually bring me back. Realizing again that I'm standing on the stage alone. in a room that is set so beautifully, but I'm the only one there to take notice. As reality swoons itself back, my eyes moves across the seats from stage left to stage right where my bucket is waiting for me to finish the mopping.
As I leave the theater, locking the door behind me, I begin my walk home. I pass person after person that is none the wiser of the epic story that just played on an empty stage. Such a story would pack a theater for a generations, That stage plays it more than any other, yet I'm the only one who has ever scene it. I'm the only one who knows its there. Playing every night of the week. The exclusiveness of it seams to add so much depth, yet as I think of how true that is my eyes fall, thinking that I'll always be the only one who ever catches the curtain. Never getting to share it.
No comments:
Post a Comment