Kaser noticed the lights in the lobby blinking and started to walk towards his seat in the auditorium. The theatre is pretty, he thought to himself. Chandeliers hung from all parts of the ceiling, statues proudly held their places along the wall, and everything down to the red carpet was very clean, even unnaturally so. He honestly did not think he could find one thing out of place if he searched the entire drama house. Even his seat pampered him. It was almost as comfortable as a recliner, and the other seats did not crowd in next to him. In addition, the view was wonderful. Kaser was not important enough to have been granted anything close to front row, but he hardly even noticed. Looking around, he did not believe that there was a bad seat in the entire house. The stage itself was framed with beautiful golden statues and had a blue curtain drawn across it. Another curtain, known as the Last Curtain, was drawn back to either side in an almost decorative way. That curtain would never close until the last play finished. Kaser and everybody else hoped that would not be soon. A lady sat down next to him with a friend. They were chatting pleasantly and Kaser could not help but overhear.
"What do you suppose the Director has in store for us today?" the woman closest to Kaser asked.
"Who knows?" the other replied. "One thing is for sure though, it will be good. It always is. I do not come here often, but in the times that I have, there has never been a bad show. The Director just wouldn't allow it."
"Do you remember when we were actors?"
"Yes, interesting times we had then. They were stupid times but still interesting. I don't regret leaving them though."
"Of course." Then the lights started to fade out. The two women took their seats and the blue curtain opened on a man named Barry who was walking down a street in Austin. The lamps were just coming on. Kaser had seen the man before, but it hardly mattered. The thoughts of the man on stage were clearer to everyone in the audience than spoken words. He had a good life but always seemed to take it for granted. His wife certainly did not care that they were poor, but for some reason, Barry could never get it out of his head. Now, as he walked down the street, Barry was nervous. He had an appointment with a couple of guys that were somewhat shady. Still, they had offered him a rather large sum of money for mere information about his engineering job.
Barry took a right at the next corner. Somehow, the scenery on the stage followed him without ever missing a beat. It showed an alley now, with garbage cans lining the sides. A hint of stale, putrid air flowed into the audience. Some of the younger spectators wrinkled their noses. The loud sound of cars was still behind him, but not nearly as strong. A fire escape passed to the right as Barry continued to walk down the street. Every now and then, he would look behind him as if someone might be following him. Barry licked his dry lips. It was the perfect place to get mugged, or worse.
He turned another corner. Now the sounds of the street were faint and he could hear rustling all around him. A newspaper with the picture of Clinton on the front blew up and grabbed his leg. Barry struggled for a moment to kick it off and then continued walking. The pavement was rough under his feet, and more than once Barry considered turning around. I should not be here, he thought. It just is not healthy. Back in the audience, Kaser agreed completely. The things that people will do for money are ridiculous. Barry, however, continued walking.
He rounded yet another corner and then stopped in his tracks. It was a dead end and the two men that he had come to see were waiting at the end. Kaser instantly could hear their thoughts and knew their names. The one on the right was called Chester and the other was Harvey. Both were enemies of the government operation that Barry worked for. It was clear they meant no good. Chester noticed Barry first and walked up to him. He was dressed in a brown suit with a leather coat. The other had on black and blended in with the shadows.
"Do you have the information?" Chester asked.
"Yes, it's right here," Barry replied. "I filled out the answers to all of your questions and did not tell a soul. Everything is just how you asked it. Do you have the money you promised?"
"Yes, Harvey has it in his coat, twenty thousand dollars. Just give us the information and it's yours." Barry hesitated a moment before reaching inside his coat and pulling out some folded sheets of paper. He fingered them a moment before quickly handing them to Chester.
"Here they are. Now give me the money." Chester motioned to Harvey, and he walked over to stand in front of Barry. He then reached inside his coat to pull out a gun. "What's this?" Barry yelled.
"Sorry," Harvey answered. "We can't have you talkin." Kaser closed his eyes and shook his head as a shot resounded through the theatre. He had seen it all before. Man never had been able to resolve problems without killing each other. Murder was such a waste of life, and it was sad to consider how people never stop to think about what they did.
As Kaser opened his eyes though, it was already over and the scene had changed to a policeman named Bob standing by his car. Another, Edward, came over to join him.
"Well, that finishes up the crime scene," Edward said. "Are you sure you don't want to take a look at it Bob?"
"Yes, I'm sure. I trust your opinion. Right now, I am more concerned about how I am going to word this to his wife. You can see a hundred deaths and still not get used to that. Some take it better than others do, and it is your duty to let each down softly. Well, I am ready now," Bob replied. He opened the door and sat down in the driver's seat. The audience could hear the sounds of a cellular telephone as the scene changed to a small apartment. The telephone there was just starting to ring, and a woman by the name of Melinda rushed in to answer it. However, before she could even say hello, Kaser heard a gasp behind him. He turned to see who it was and saw Barry standing in the door.
"Melinda!" he shouted, earning several hushes in return. Many, however, did not notice because the room was made to quiet audience noise. "Melinda! It's me, Barry!" Barry ran down the aisle towards the stage. You do not see this every day, Kaser thought. Then, all of a sudden, he felt sorry for the man. It was not Barry's fault that he was ignorant of his current position.
"Melinda! Can you hear me?" Barry shouted as he reached the wall between the seating area and pit. Melinda continued as if nothing had happened. She never even blinked out of place. It was very sad. She must have just heard the news. "Melinda! Why don't you answer me?" Barry looked over to his left and noticed a golden door with wings indented into it. He started to run over to it, hoping it could lead to where his wife was. Meanwhile, Kaser decided that he had seen enough and got up to help the poor man. He reached the bottom of the isle just as Barry got over to the door and found that it had no handle. Only a person the Director winged and specifically sent could open that door. It had not happened in almost two thousand years. Kaser started to run over to him, but Barry rushed back past him to the center.
"Melinda, my darling, answer me! Please!" Barry knelt down and began to cry. Kaser rushed over to help him. "Why won't she answer me? Why?"
"My name is Kaser. She can not hear you because you are dead and she is alive. Even though she appears as if she is on a regular stage and acting in front of you, she is really in a different world," Kaser replied.
"What do you mean?"
"Let's go out into the lobby and I will explain," Kaser said, helping him up. They both then proceeded to walk up the aisle, and Barry continued to sob. Once in the lobby, Kaser continued. "The world that you know and have lived in is what you saw on that stage. Everybody plays a role on it until he dies. Afterwards, you end up here. In this world, we have many theatres. They all watch peoples' lives and show us their triumphs, mistakes, labors, and downfalls. Some teach us, others entertain us, and still more are just simply gratifying to watch. The person that happens to be on a stage at the moment never notices, and the audience sits in the air, wall, or whatever else happens to be in front of him. The Director seldom interferes. Actors are free to play out their lives, and spectators are free to watch. This is the way it always has been. The people on stage just never have been told. After all, if they knew, they might act differently. What you saw just a minute ago is what happened after your death. That was your wife up there, but she could no more hear you than you could hear a different planet."
"I think I understand," Barry replied, "but it will take some time to get used to it. I want to thank you for all your help, Kaser, and I will take a walk to let this all sink in. Goodnight to you." Kaser waved to him as he went out the door. Barry was in such a rush; he did not even notice the sign hanging over hanging outside, over the door. It had a picture of a man holding up a globe, and underneath read the words "All life is a play"-Shakespeare.
Copyright© 1998 by Christopher Strickland
