Waiting for Vernot
A tragicomedy in two acts (hopefully).
Scene: The Rogers Centre. It could be dawn or midnight- the roof is closed. Two Blue Jays fans sit in the empty bleachers. A baseball bat lies nearby.
Mullagon: Charming stadium. Inspiring prospects. (He turns to Tablamir.) Let’s go.
Tablimir: We can’t.
M: Why not?
T: We’re waiting for Vernot.
M: (despairingly). Ah! (Pause.) You’re sure it was here?
M: That we were to wait.
T: He said by the bat. (They look at the bat.) Do you see any others?
M: What is it?
T: I don’t know. A Louisville.
M: Where are the Home Runs?
T: It must be dead.
M: No more weeping.
T: Or perhaps it’s not our season.
M: Looks to me more like a twig.
T: A noodle.
M: A twig.
T: A-. What are you insinuating? That we’re cheering for the wrong team?
M: He should be hitting.
T: He didn’t say for sure he’d hit.
M: And if he doesn’t hit?
T: We’ll come back to-morrow.
M: And then the day after to-morrow.
M: The point is-
T: Until he hits.
M: I can’t go on like this.
T: That’s what you think.
M: If we parted? That might be better for us.
T: We’ll hang ourselves to-morrow. (Pause.) Unless Vernot hits.
M: And if he hits?
T: We’ll be saved.
T: Shall we go?
M: Yes, let’s go.
They do not move.