The Time Machine, a play of sorts

THE PERSONS OF THE PLAY
JULES
REFLECTION JULES
CHARLES
CARL
STEPHANIE
JULES OFFSTAGE VOICE
WOMAN AT THE BAR
MAN AT THE BAR
YOUNG CHARLES
BARTENDER

THE SCENES OF THE PLAY

ACT I, Jules' writing room, the bar, a chair at the edge of the stage.
ACT II, Jules' writing room, a dorm room, a chair at the edge of the stage. 
ACT III, Jules' writing room, the bar, a chair at the edge of the stage.

FIRST ACT.

SCENE - Jules' writing room. Just to the right of center stage, a kitchen island is being used as a desk. A computer is on the far right of the desk. A large mirror is to the left of the computer with a large frame. The mirror is aimed to show the writer's face.

JULES.[Jules is standing at a computer keyboard typing (back to audience). She looks at her reflection in the mirror and then as the light comes up she nods to her reflection in the mirror, her reflection starts to move slowly across the length of the mirror and around the outside of the frame. Approaches the edge of the stage as the woman continues to type.]

REFL JULES. [approaches the front of the stage and points over her shoulder.] Shh... she's just getting to the good part.

JULES. [The sound of the typing on the keyboard gets a little louder. Jules continues typing, then pauses. Her thoughts are spoken off stage by another woman.]

JULES OFFSTAGE VOICE. There he was, standing in the doorway. She hadn't thought he would come. [As these words are spoken the lights come up on a woman sitting at a bar (back stage left) and the entrance to the bar shows the door opening and the man standing in the doorway. Then the sound of the keyboard hitting the backspace bar.]

REFL JULES. Uh oh, here we go again.

JULES. [Walks away from the keyboard. Exit Jules.]

REFL JULES. Sorry everyone. False alarm, I thought she was ready this time. [Walks over and takes a barstool from the bar part of the set and sets it down near the edge of the stage.] My name is Julia, but everyone calls me Jules.

JULES. [from offstage] No, they call me Jules, you're just my imaginary reflection; a writer's device.

REFL JULES. [Peeks under her shirt] I don't feel imaginary.

JULES. [from offstage] That is because I am such a good writer.

REFL JULES. If you're such a good writer, how come he always gets stuck in the doorway?

JULES. [Enters. Storms back over to the keyboard.] He doesn't. [Lights come on hesitantly in the bar area of the stage. The woman at the bar sets down her book and looks to Jules.]

WOMAN AT BAR. Ready?

JULES. [Ignores her, but the lights come up further in the bar and the offstage voice continues. Again, her thoughts are spoken off stage by another woman.]

JULES OFFSTAGE VOICE. There he was, standing in the doorway. She hadn't thought he would come.

MAN AT BAR. [Enters.]

WOMAN AT BAR. [raises her hand to get his attention.]

REFL JULES. [Sitting in the foreground swivels on the bar stool and watches the bar scene. A person dressed in black runs across the stage with an umbrella. The lights flicker on the windows of the bar and suddenly rain is seen to be pouring down them. The person hands the umbrella to the man, who knowingly shakes it as if it was wet, and then hangs his hat and coat on the rack near the entrance and the umbrella gets set in the umbrella stand. He walks over to sit next to her at the bar. A bartender appears from behind the counter drying a glass with a towel.

WOMAN AT BAR. Tell me your evil plan.

MAN AT BAR. You and me and a house with a white picket fence.

REFL JULES. [Laughing, picks up a guitar and starts to play and sing] Tell me your evil plan, she says with a grin. You and me and a house with a white picket fence. What are you some kind of a jewel thief? He pours one drink then another and sits beside her at the bar. Hey I'm serious, we should settle down, I wish they'd settle up - get out of town... [Song Ends, turns to Jules] This is just a song you wrote, a fragment a dream.

JULES. It's the wrong guy.

MAN AT BAR. [Looking offended sets his drink down and gets up and puts on his hat and coat, hands the umbrella back to the person in black and leaves the stage to come sit next to Reflection Jules]

REFL JULES. Don't worry sweetie, you look alright to me.

JULES. [Turns apologetically to them, but Reflection Jules is whispering something into his ear. The lights on the bar dim. This time the lights come up and the bar is now a coffee shop. It's a shoddy impersonation. The liquor bottles remain, just the sign in the window gets flipped to say "Coffee Shop" and the woman hands her glass to the bartender who trades it for a white coffee cup and saucer.]

REFL JULES. starts to giggle. "Do do-do, do do do-do" the sounds of the Suzanne Vega song start to play.

WOMAN AT BAR. [Picks up the pen and starts to write.]

YOUNG MAN. [Enters.]

WOMAN AT BAR. [Exits.]

YOUNG WOMAN. [Enters.]

REFL JULES. Returning to the scene of the crime? [The lights go dark except for the pool of light Reflection Jules is sitting in.] This was the first boy she ever kissed. She was 16 and spent most of her waking hours reading fiction. They could spend the next hour just sitting there, waiting for something to happen. The boy, probably trying to figure out how to get her to go some private place, and her trying to sort out all of her feelings.

JULES. [Starts typing again.]

YOUNG WOMAN. [Gets up from the barstool and comes over to Jules.]

JULES. [Stops typing, takes off her watch and slips it on the girl's wrist and whispers something in her ear.]

YOUNG WOMAN. [Looks at the watch and walks back quickly to the bar.] Kiss me.

YOUNG MAN. Here?

YOUNG WOMAN. Yes! Quick, before she changes her mind.

YOUNG MAN. [Looks at Jules who nods her head slightly. He leans toward the young girl and she grabs his head in her hands and kisses him. They keep kissing.]

JULES. [Stops typing and retrieves her watch from the young woman.] Got you!

REFL JULES. [Returns to her place in the mirror standing looking at Jules.]

JULES. [Looks at herself, pulls her hair back in a pony tale.]

REFL JULES. [Mirrors her.]

JULES. [Turns and takes Reflection Jules spot near the front of the stage.] Sorry about all that. Plot and I aren't always on the same team. When I was a teenager I fell madly in love with a young man who was a musician. He had these beautiful hands, long fingers, full lips. He looked like a roman, no... greek statue. I spent about fifteen years of my life waiting to see if things could work out between us. A long silent crush that I nursed through my first marriage that ended up being it's undoing. Not that we ever acted on my desires. Just the desire enough was enough to do the damage. By the time I was 30 I could no longer stand the facade. Of course, in those first 30 years of my life, there were other crushes, but this one was the strongest and most constant by far. So many times I wished for a way to go back to some of the moments where I hung locked on the verge of acting on my desires. I longed for a time machine to go back and right my wrongs. For so often we regret what might have been, although we do spend a lot of time regretting what was as well. Trying not to live anymore of my life with regret can be a little maddening. If I only ever wanted one thing that would make it easier. But I have more than one story line that runs in my head. I feel like every choice I have made had multiple outcomes, and it feels as if all those multiple outcomes continue to play out in another version of my life following me in a parallel universe quantum physics sort of way - something I don't want to contemplate the mechanics of too thoroughly because my current story line is exactly where I want to be. Stories about being happily married to an amazing man, with two adorable children, going to work and enjoying the people I work with and having so much happiness is really incredibly boring subject matter. Have you ever noticed how many children's fairy tales have a mother and father that are happily married and have their happy children safely with them living happily... Usually the mother is killed off, and obviously that would not help my story line one bit -- as long as I am casting myself as the mom. So, best to follow centuries of tradition and leave the happily ever after to the edge of the page. Since I love to write about myself, being [coughs] secretly narcissistic I am forced to try to find another method with which to create another story. This watch, is a time machine. Literally, it tells time. And yet, on my wrist, on her wrist. What if. And while I am at it -- to assuage my feelings of guilt about my dear beloved husband who is so amazing. Why not just pick up one of those alternate story lines of what might have been. Pull a thread from the parallel lives that are playing out just out of my grasp. [Looking at the watch again.] Yes. This should do the trick.


Act 2 Jules' writing room, a dorm room.

REFL JULES. [borrows the watch from the young teenage girl.]

JULES. [Typing, smiling.]

CHARLES. [Enters right. Walks up to her at her keyboard.] Can't sleep?

JULES. Writing.

CHARLES. [Kisses her and Exits right.]

JULES. [Typing.]

CHARLES. [Enters left.]

JULES. I'm replaying some of my memories from 2000.

CHARLES. Before we met.

REFL JULES. Ah yes - but you see I have a time machine.

CHARLES. It's a watch.

REFL JULES. Yes, but for the purpose of this story, it is a time machine.

CHARLES. Does it transport you back in time?

REFL JULES. Well, no. It's just a watch.

CHARLES. Then how are we in 2000?

REFL JULES. We're not. We're just a retelling of something that happened in 2000 that Jules wishes
to rewrite. About a missed opportunity with...

JULES. [Yells from her keyboard.] Don't say his name!

CHARLES. & REFL JULES. [Both look at her.]

CHARLES. Well, what am I doing here then?

JULES. It didn't seem right to imagine a love scene with a different man while you are asleep down the hall.

CHARLES. I should hope not, who is he, kick his ass.

REFL JULES. No, no, it's not like that, it's sweet. She is imagining that all her life - there was only you.

CHARLES. What do you mean "imagining"?

REFL JULES. He does know you had been married before?

JULES. Yes of course he knows that.

CHARLES. I just don't want details.

JULES. Well, this never really happened. At least not like this, not with you.

CHARLES. And we are able to do this because of the time machine?

REFL JULES. Yes, it's deus ex machina.

CHARLES. I don't believe in God.

REFL JULES. That's okay, she believes enough for both of you.

CHARLES. [Shrugs his shoulders.]

REFL JULES. Is he going to cooperate?

JULES. Yes, just working out the final details.

REFL JULES. [Pulls a wrench out of her pocket.] You want me to do what?

JULES. Hit him on the head with it.

CHARLES. [Turns to look at Jules.]

JULES. Not hard -- more like a magic wand tap.

REFL JULES. Oh, like this. [The lights go down on Jules and the lights brighten on her husband and Reflection Jules.]

REFL JULES. Yes, what kind of tea do you have?

CHARLES. [Tilts, pauses the opens the cupboard.] Irish Breakfast

REFL JULES. [Sits next to him on the couch.] That's right - you were a tea drinker.

CHARLES. Still am.

REFL JULES. [Calls toward offstage] A little help here.

JULES. [Enters.] It goes like this.

REFL JULES. [Exits.]

JULES. Hey, you said you were going to play that song you were working on the other night.

CHARLES. [Pulling the guitar from the side of the couch. He started to strum, it was badly out of tune.] Yikes. [Starts to work on tuning it.]

JULES. I'll be right back. [Walking to the front of the stage.] Ok, we took a bit of a wrong turn and ended up in a dorm room in well, I'll leave the campus nameless.

REFL JULES. [Enters.] You don't think the VWC sweatshirt he's wearing will give it away do you?

JULES. I don't remember him wearing that sweatshirt.

CHARLES & REFL JULES & VOICES FROM OFFSTAGE Ah ha!

JULES. Well, when I said that that teenage boy was the memory that I most longed to return to, I had forgotten about someone.

REFL JULES. Winter Break

JULES. [Picks up the sheets of the short story and started to read.] The snow had been falling all afternoon. Growing deeper and deeper, blanketing the earth in it's pure snow white softness. I poured the coffee into my favorite cup, which was small and red. The cup came from a small factory in Sausalito, California. Matte glaze on the outside, deep but bright rose red -- which matched my NARS lipstick, Fire Down Below. And the inside was the same red, but glossy. The cup had no handle and was about three inches tall. It fit neatly in my small hands.

REFL JULES. [Brings the small red cup to Jules]

PERSON IN BLACK. [Moves the coat rack from the bar over to where Jules sits near the front of the stage.]

JULES. I moved cross the room as if floating. Feeling the warmth of the cup transfer through the cup through my hands up my arms. Standing near the window, I could feel the chilled air. I was wearing a nightgown that was silky with a deep v neck, silvery green grey with flowers. My skin, which tanned so easily in the California sun, had grown pale in the Virginia fall and winter. My hair was longer than it had been since I was a young girl was long and straight. It wouldn't hold a curl and nothing short of a permanent would put any wave into it.

JULES. [Takes a sip of the coffee.] This is a short story I wrote, almost like a letter to my daughter. This was many years before you were born dearest daughter. Back when I was a young woman away at college. This is the story of how I met your father. Well, the dream version of it anyway, because life doesn't always follow the clean neat path we would design, but meanders and grows like a vine.A knock at the door interrupted my path to the window ledge. I didn't bother to grab a robe imagining it was either Julie or Alice, one of my two friends who were staying on campus over the winter break. This is a hybrid of truth and fiction dearest daughter. My friends who knew me in these days would be confused if they tried to find themselves in these events and faces. I like the idea of taking your father and adding him to my earlier history. I'd signed up for a series of classes in the art wing, the extra classes being cheaper than the ticket to and from California, and feeling like I needed to do my part to save money given the circumstances. The campus was quiet -- even when school was in session. A small school less than 2000 students, nestled on the edge of new growth woods outside Norfolk, Virginia. Charles, your father, had been planning on heading home to Ann Arbor to see his family -- but at the last minute he'd changed his mind. I'd heard from Christine that she'd seen his name on the list for the art classes I'd signed up for. I'd been planning on continuing on with my current single minded focus on my studies, only allowing thoughts of him to creep cross my consciousness after dark. It made it easier to get through the day to keep my life and my dreams separated as one unloads a dishwasher. Putting away thoughts like cutlery. Here is where you put the knives, here is where the forks go, and the spoons. Before he'd re-arranged his travel plans keeping my mind on my work had been easier to imagine.

CHARLES. [Moves over to the coat rack. Stands near it wearing a black leather jacket and a black skull cap - wool.]

JULES. I opened the door, my blonde hair falling down my shoulders. Seeing his unexpected form -- his body that drew me to his arms in my minds eye, his eyes that sparkled with mischievious intention... I grabbed my pink robe off the hook and wrapped it tightly across myself. Tying the pink flower embroidered kimono with deft efficiency I stepped back to let him in.

PERSON IN BLACK [Brings the pink kimono and then Jules. ties it on]

JULES. Hey.

REFL JULES. [Picked up the sheets of paper and continued reading the story as Jules and Charles went to sit next to each other on the bed. They sat close to one another not speaking as Reflection Jules continued to tell the story.] I could hear the surprise in my voice as I invited him in. On the one hand, completely taken aback that he was really here... but on the other -- some deeper part of me that had taken it for granted that this moment would come and I would be ready for it. That person that I hadn't become yet was there just waiting to be born and I decided to let her drive and see what it was like in the passenger seat. I was blushing, and trying not to only made it worse. My eyes swept the room seeing it through the eyes of a stranger. My bed, Emily's bed. Would he know whose side was whose? I'd picked up a bit but Emily's side looked vacant. Her half of the room consisted of a bed, with forest green quilt with yellow star flowers and a desk that held an old globe. Everything else had been packed up for the holidays. While, my side of the room looked like there was someone home. It looked a lot like my room would look like when I moved out on my own, which wasn't much different than my bedroom in high school or now in my dorm. I didn't like the plain white walls and I had taken one wall and covered it floor to ceiling with clippings from magazines and books. I'd photocopied the pictures from the books, not wanting to destroy the ones I had borrowed. If I'd had unlimited funds, or not been the type of person who didn't respect library property I would have preferred to cut and rip the pages directly from the books themselves. The majority of the collage was black and white - the color copies were too expensive and I liked the way black and white prints created a back drop to the bold splashes of color from the magazines. I had been on a bit of a chair kick and I had lots of close-ups of legs and seats and backs. I had a dream that I had a tattoo of a chair on my leg and next to it was a small number, 43 as if it was one of many tiny images I had collected. I had never found an image that I thought was perfect -- which is still true to this day, and which is why I still do not have a tattoo when almost all of my friends have at least one and some more than I can count. Your father doesn't have any tattoos either -- which was not something I knew or would have suspected. The cover on my bed was lit by the setting sun and with the reflection off the snow the red seemed to shimmer illicitly. [A red light glows on the seated couple] For all of the pictures of chairs on my walls I didn't have one to offer -- not even from my desk. Emily, Julie and I had loaned ours to Alice who had a room to herself and a large round table. We spent evenings quietly in study, or playing a variation of backgammon that Alice's dad had taught us called Aci-Duci. Games of chance involving dice were usually tipped in my favor because of my uncanny luck. It was hard to tell if it was just my optimistic nature that could so easily look at any roll and feel that it was the one I was meant to have, or that I did have some un-measurable ability to be able to sway the dice under my fingers to the combinations I desired. So, all I had to offer him was my bed... which made my cheeks glow all the brighter. I offered him a cup of coffee and he took off his coat. [As these words are spoken, they stand Jules walks over to grab another cup, and Charles takes off his jacket] The inside of his coat had a quilted pattern and looked soft and there was a diamond square of deep green with red writing. I had that image on my wall, I'd liked the way the logo looked. I didn't think he'd notice it among the thousands of layered images that made up the design. He laid the coat on my bed and walked over to stand near me as I poured the coffee. Just hearing him walk around my room made my knees melt. I had made enough for two, which was like me, because I was always waiting for someone to drop by and more often or not they did. I had sugar and cream -- the sugar container I'd lifted from the Diner near the second run theater. I didn't make a habit of stealing things, but Julie had stuck it in my purse and I didn't want to argue with her. I left some extra cash for the waitress as a tip and when Julie forgot to claim it, I'd kept it near my coffee pot. A few weeks later Alice had added a creamer to the set. Emily shared half her fridge with me, so the cream was fresh and cold. I offered him the sugar and he poured several tablespoons in, then stirred it. I couldn't take my eyes off him. Some people move with such confidence it is compelling. We'd never been alone before. Not like this. There was that moment in the commons that first week of the new semester that had felt like just the two of us... but others had been there in the back ground. This was different. And I savored it. It was strange to have him here, where I'd pictured him so many times. Everything seemed to be moving so quickly in my brain, I felt out of sync with the moment. Playing every possibility through my mind simultaneously. Running every breath through a series of filters comparing what was really happening to my imagination and wondering if I would be able to hit all of the right notes, so that when I looked back on this day, many years from now it would have worked out the way I wanted it to. Because I was feeling so overwhelmed I probably seemed a little more cool than I was -- but I accepted any advantage I could get or I was sure I'd run him over with the intensity with which I feel, see, think, hear the world around me. I always felt like he was that way too. Ten steps ahead of everyone. To have someone else there beside me made it terrifying, but like the center of a storm... or that moment between one and blast off. This moment was my rare chance to put that guess to the test. I'd handed him the cup of coffee and he'd replied by adding sugar, stirring and taking a sip. If he hadn't liked the coffee, it might have been over then and there. I can't tell you for sure... but of course he did. He was looking around the room, and he took a sip and nodded as if making a decision and at that moment I let some of the tension relax from my shoulders and jaw. I turned on the red lights and the room glowed in the sunset. It was more dramatic than I had intended, but it fit the moment. He moved toward my crate of CDs and started sorting through them. I could hear small sounds of unexpected approval and he picked one and opened it to put it on. It was empty and I pressed play.

CHARLES. Good coffee, Jules.

JULES. Glad you like it Charles.

CHARLES. So, what are you planning on doing this fine evening?

JULES. I thought I might go for a swim down at the old mill pond.

CHARLES. What? In this blizzard?

JULES. If you can pretend this is a fine evening, I can pretend I am going swimming...No, I don't actually go outside in this stuff, I'm from the part of California that doesn't snow.

CHARLES. Well, I was going to ask you if you'd like to go for a walk -- but it sure is cozy in here.

JULES. Yes, if any dorm room can be described as cozy, this would be it... I don't have the backgammon board, so you're spared from losing to me at Aci Duci.

CHARLES. Is that a drinking game?

JULES. I'm sure it could be adapted... but I don't have anything to drink.

CHARLES. I might have something in my pocket.

JULES. What was your plan for the walk?

CHARLES. We'd be a good fit. I see something I want and I don't pretend otherwise.

JULES. And you want me.

REFL JULES. [Exits.]

CHARLES. [Pushes Jules back onto the bed, and the lights go black.]





Act 3

JULES. [Looking at watch] It's time. [Walks from keyboard toward Bar, and pulls up a barstool.]

CARL. [Enters. Shakes umbrella and hangs hat and coat.]

JULES. Hey.

CARL. I'm engaged.

JULES. What year is this?

CARL. Oh good, a game. 2012.

JULES. I'm serious. [Twisting watch.]

CARL. Did your watch stop?

JULES. Hey.

CARL. Hey.

JULES. Can I see a wine list?

BARTENDER. Since when do you drink wine?

JULES. [Looking at list.] Can I have the house merlot?

BARTENDER. Sure.

JULES - 2001, What a good year.

CARL. Ready to proclaim the whole year after the first 30 days.

BARTENDER. [Pours the wine, and sets the glass before her.] JULES. Oh yes.

CARL. I'll stick to my usual.

BARTENDER. [Pours the beer.]

CARL. Music?

JULES. Pixies?

CARL. [Gets up to put music in the juke box.]

JULES. Do you remember when you asked if you could kiss me?

CARL. Yeah, sorry about that. Boy, was I drunk.

JULES. Would you believe I spent several years replaying that conversation?

CARL. No.

JULES. You seem awfully sure of yourself.

CARL. Yeah, I just asked you last week.

JULES. Well, it felt like years.

CARL. Oh? Wait - is this going to be another one of those conversations we have that doesn't make any sense?

JULES. Only if we keep talking.

CARL. Then, I propose a toast.

JULES. To a life without regret?

CARL. So you regret saying no?

JULES. Only until about 2011.

CARL. But then you'd be okay with it?

JULES. I wonder how much time we've got.

CARL. I'm not going anywhere.

JULES. Oh, but you are.

CARL. I'm here now.

JULES. Yes, and it seems such a shame to waste such a lovely opportunity [Kisses him.]

CARL. [Stands, pulls her to her feet, then gets onto one knee.] Marry me.

JULES. What!?

CARL. Julia Rose Barnes will you be my wife?

JULES. [Shakes watch, tries to pull him up.]

CARL. Say yes.

JULES. I can't.

CARL. You were made for me.

JULES. Yes, but what about Stephanie?

CARL. [Stands.] Who?

JULES. You haven't met her yet - but you're so happy together. [Sits back in her chair.]

CARL. [Picks up her glass, sniffs. Sits beside her.] What did they put in here? You're even more peculiar than usual.

JULES. I just wanted a kiss. I didn't think it would hurt. Just a quick trip back in time.

CARL. Haven't you heard of the space time continuum?

JULES. You sound just like Charles.

CARL. Who's Charles?

JULES. My husband, my second husband.

CARL. What happened to Michael?

JULES. Well Michael... we divorced. Right around the time you met Alice.

CARL. Alice? Who's Alice.

JULES. This woman you met. I never liked her. Just as I was free you were taken.

CARL. Then who is Stephanie?

JULES. Well, you and Alice don't last.

CARL. Great. And who is Charles?

JULES. The love of my life.

CARL. Then why are you here?

CHARLES. [Enters.] That is what I would like to know.

REFL JULES [Enters.] Charles is coming!

JULES. Thanks.

CHARLES. Whiskey. Double.

CARL. The same.

BARTENDER. [Pours three glasses and drinks the third.]

CARL. Hi. I'm Carl.

CHARLES. We've met. I have some photos of your wedding.

JULES. It was a beautiful ceremony.

CARL. You aren't making any sense.

JULES. Yes, that is what it always came down to with us.

CARL. But with him you're sane.

CHARLES. No, she's still crazy.

REFL JULES. Certifiable.

JULES. Thanks team!

CHARLES. But she's mine.

JULES. Even in my dreams I choose you.

CHARLES. Yet you are here.

REFL JULES. And the kiss...

CHARLES. The kiss?

CARL. She kissed me.

STEPHANIE [Enters.] That's not how I saw it.

CARL. I remember you. Hey, we're back to the present now!

JULES. [Shaking watch.] Wake up. Wake Up.

CHARLES. Jules. care to explain?

JULES. I was thinking about my past. Thinking about what moments in my life I would like to
change.

CHARLES. With no thought to the space time continuum?

CARL. I know! She has total disregard for modern conventions of time travel.

STEPHANIE. So happy to see you are capable of being offended.

REFL JULES. And once again I am totally forgotten.

JULES. Oh, sorry. Charles, Carl, my reflection is feeling left out. Stephanie, drink?

STEPHANIE. What? I was just thinking about a story about a vampire.

CARL. Oh not that again.

STEPHANIE. Just wait it will be a best seller.

CARL. Right, with a name like Sunset.

STEPHANIE. Twilight.

CARL. Same difference. It's depressing. And who would believe a vampire dumb enough to go to high school - on purpose!

STEPHANIE. I am not having this conversation again. I'll use my maiden name.

CARL. What is the big deal, it was just a kiss.

CHARLES. Jules, why don't you send them offstage.

JULES. Carl, Steph, would you be so kind?

CARL. [Exits.]

STEPHANIE. [Exits.]

CHARLES. It's bedtime.

JULES. I know it's late. [Walks toward desk.] I couldn't sleep.

CHARLES. What are you writing.

JULES. A play about a woman who has a time machine, and goes back to retrieve a stolen kiss.

CHARLES. Should I be jealous?

JULES. No, it never goes quite as planned. My conscience keeps getting in the way.

CHARLES. Ah, that's some comfort.

JULES. Without the past I wouldn't be who I am.

CHARLES. So you kiss Carl?

JULES. Well, more I wish I had that night in the bar.

CHARLES. But you're happy here.

JULES. Yes. Incredibly happy. Deliriously happy.

CHARLES. Then, it's a good thing you don't have a time machine.

JULES. Right. Why?

CHARLES. Some stories are better left untold.

JULES. Yes.

CHARLES. What not argument? From the woman who always has to learn the hard way?

JULES. No, I think you're right.

CHARLES. That doesn't sound like you.

JULES. I know. But I still think you're right.

CHARLES. To bed!

JULES. Aye, Aye Captain. [Exits.]

CHARLES. Aye. [Exits.] [Lights come up in the bar.]

REFL JULES. So, you come here often?

BARTENDER. You could say that.

REFL JULES. I had the weirdest dream.

BARTENDER. I get that a lot.

REFL JULES. Want to hear it?

OFFSTAGE VOICES. No!!! [Lights fade to black.]