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© Maxim Titovets, 2023
ISBN 978-5-0060-9043-9
Создано в интеллектуальной издательской системе Ridero
Fleur de Lys
Fleur de Lys
Maxim Titovets
2023
I will catch a beam of sunlight and give it the shape of the royal golden lily. Fleur de Lys. I see a golden lily in my sleep, the golden lily longs for me and weeps…
Translated by Ekaterina Zudova
CHARACTERS
Anna, 30 y.o.
Sergey, 40 y.o.
Marina, 35 y.o.
Frolov, 38 y.o.
BEGINNING
It is dark and there is a smoke fog.
There is a big city noise in the background and the sound of the radio can be heard.
…the abnormal heat wave persists in the region… the temperature reached 40° C, a new all-time record… the world record of almost a hundred years has been broken… acrid smoke blanketed the city…
Another channel.
…forty houses were destroyed by fire, and over three hundred villagers were evacuated… the authorities declared a state of emergency due to uncontrollable wildfires. The corresponding decree was signed by the governor…
Another channel.
…a double homicide occurred last night in the downtown area. An unidentified suspect fired a shotgun on the streets, near one of the city center hotels. Police arrived in response to a call but the man refused to surrender and shot himself dead… there were no injuries among the police officers…
Another channel.
…an official was detained on corruption charges… was caught red-handed while accepting a bribe in one of the restaurants of the capital…
Another channel. Music is playing.
The stage curtains open in complete darkness.
ACT I
Scene 1
July. Noon. A park. Sergey is following a walkway. Anna is sitting on a bench and reading a book. Sergey passes by, squinting at Anna’s book. He slips and falls.
Sergey. The murderer was the gardener.
Anna. There is no gardener in «Cinderella». Are you alright?
Sergey. Right as rain! [He gets to his feet.] So it’s really «Cinderella». I thought it was a crime story. (Pause).
Sergey. Does anyone even believe in Cinderella fairytales today?
Anna. There may be some fortunate souls.
Sergey. Oh, really?
Anna. It’s a nice bedtime story for kids.
Sergey. Do you have kids?
Anna. I have two. Is it a problem?
Sergey. It’s not.
Anna rises to her feet and walks down the alley. Sergey follows her.
Sergey. You leaving already? Let me escort you.
Anna. My husband is a pretty jealous man.
Sergey. You don’t have no husband.
Anna. He’s a Master of Sports in boxing.
Sergey. [Rubbing his chin.] We won’t tell him. What is your name?
Anna. Do you like me?
Sergey. I do.
Anna. Just kidding, never mind.
Sergey. I can state with complete certainty: I do like you.
Anna. Goodbye.
Anna leaves. Sergey is left alone.
Scene 2
24 hours later.
Fleur de Lys Art Studio. Panoramic windows overlook the main street.
Sergey’s room.
Sergey is alone in the room. He is dressed in an Armani suit and is sitting on an unmade convertible bed. He is holding an unlit cigarette in his mouth. His hands are moving over the papers on a coffee table. The room is miserable, the furniture squalid. The sofa bed is surrounded by neglected cardboard boxes with books, a clothing rack, and an old, stringless guitar. Empty bottles, litter, and cobwebs are scattered around.
Sergey. Where the hell is it? Shit! [He sweeps all the papers off the table, rises to his feet, and walks up to the window. In an ashtray, there is a crumpled business card.] Bingo! [He dials the number].
Marina’s studio is empty. There is clearly a renovation work in progress. The landline rings. When it does three rings, one can hear a key turning in the lock. Marina rushes inside, holding a large stretched canvas. She runs to the phone and takes the call.
Marina. Hello? [Pause.] Oh, fuck! [She drops the receiver into its cradle.]
Sergey. Is she sleeping or something? Bohemians, dammit … [He takes out a wallet, extracts the last money, and throws the wallet onto the floor. He sits silently for a moment, then dials the number again.]
Marina. Fleur de Lys Studio, Marina speaking. Go ahead. Hello! Hello?!
Sergey. [Remaining silent.]
Marina. Hello, can you hear me?
Sergey.No. [He hangs up.]
Marina. What? … Hey!
Sergey paces the room.
Sergey. Ah, get your shit together, have some guts! You need this job. You broken-hearted fool! Start a new life. Fight. Do something! (Pause).
Sergey. What shall I do? What is my first battle? With myself? Ah, screw it! [He tears up the card and tosses it aside. His mobile phone rings.]
Marina. Did you just call me? The caller ID showed this number.
Sergey. Yes, I did. I mean, no. Yes!
Marina. What a nut job…
Sergey. So, hello. May I speak to Marina?
Marina. Marina speaking. Who are you?
Sergey. My name’s Sergey Arkhipov.
Marina. Who?
Sergey. Igor Frolov, a friend of mine, gave me your card.
Marina. Frolov?
Sergey. He said you were looking for a designer for your new art studio.
Marina. And what does it have to do with you? (Pause).
Sergey. I’m an architectural designer.
Pause.
Marina. What’s your name again?
Sergey.