Crash Zone – Full text

Fred arrives. He doesn’t seem to know where he is. Dom arrives shortly after.

Dom — Ah, you’re here?

Fred — Yes.

Dom — I thought I had lost you… (They look around a bit.) So this is it? Are we there?

Fred — Yes.

Dom — Well…

A pause.

Fred — It’s not very warm, is it?

Dom — No…

Dom approaches the edge of the stage.

Fred — Watch out, I think we’re right on the edge of the abyss.

Dom — The abyss?

Fred — I mean the cliff.

Dom takes another cautious step and looks towards the audience.

Dom — Ah, I see… Yes, it’s… It’s high.

Fred joins him.

Fred — Yes… We can’t even see the bottom…

They look ahead in silence for a moment.

Dom — I wonder what we’re doing here, though…

Fred — This is where he disappeared. Apparently…

Dom — Here?

Fred — More or less…

Dom — One thing is for sure, we won’t find him here.

Fred — No…

A pause.

Dom — But when you say here…

Fred — The plane exploded in mid-air. At a fairly high altitude, it seems. They discovered debris in a corridor approximately two kilometres wide and eight kilometres long.

Dom — So far, then.

Fred — After the cliff, it’s… We don’t know.

Dom — Okay, so, it’s not… exactly here.

Fred — He didn’t jump with a parachute. He disintegrated in the sky. So, obviously…

Dom — Two kilometres wide, six kilometres long…

Fred — Eight.

Dom — That’s sixteen square kilometres.

Fred — More or less…

Dom — So, we’re talking more about… It’s in this area that he was vaporized, you know…

Fred — Exactly.

Dom — Well, I mean… pulverized.

Fred — No remains of his body were found in the spraying zone.

Dom — The area where…

Fred — Nothing that could be identified by DNA analysis, in any case.

A pause.

Dom — What the hell was he doing on that plane?

Fred — I don’t know… God is everywhere…

Dom — Sorry?

Fred — No, I mean… It’s fate. He was in the wrong place at the wrong time, that’s all.

Dom — It’s true that he was a bit like God, after all… Never in the right place at the right time… At least when we needed him…

Fred — Maybe we should have brought flowers or… I don’t know… a wreath.

Dom — Yes… We’ll have to think about that next time.

Fred — Next time? You mean… the next time we come here to pay tribute to him?

Dom — Well… Yes. Not the next time he crashes in a plane, right?

Fred — No.

Dom — Well, it was a figure of speech. We’re not going on a pilgrimage to Brest every damn year, right?

Fred — No, obviously.

Dom — He’s our brother, we’re here to give him a final goodbye, it’s only natural. But you know… He wasn’t exactly the unknown soldier. And honestly I’m not really into commemorations…

Fred — Yeah… No, no, me neither… Not to mention it’s not just around the corner…

A pause.

Dom — A flight from Paris to Brest… You have to admit it’s a bit ridiculous… Why go to Brest by plane?

Fred — Especially him, who never took a plane…

Dom — And what on earth was he doing in Brest?

Fred — We’ll probably never know…

A pause.

Dom — And… are we absolutely sure he was on that plane, at least?

Fred — Yes, pretty sure…

Dom — How can we be so sure? There was no sign of him in the crash area.

Fred — We couldn’t find any sign of him anywhere else either…

Dom — Well, he wasn’t exactly the type to leave a lasting impression…

Fred — True, he was more of the absent-minded kind… I mean, he kept to himself….

Dom — You could even say he was the type to blend into the background… That’s why his death is so shocking…

Fred — It’s out of character for him. Yet, his name was on the passenger list… There’s no doubt about that.

Dom — He could have missed his flight at the last minute.

Fred — No, that’s definitely not something he would do.

Dom — True, he was a rather punctual man.

Fred — Yes… Almost manic about it…

Dom — A man who sets his alarm for midnight so he won’t miss the springtime change.

Fred — No, he couldn’t have missed that plane. Unfortunately… And if he had, we would have heard from him by now.

A pause.

Dom — Alright, so… what are we supposed to do?

Fred — I don’t know… We’re just here to… pay our last respects.

Dom — Okay…

Fred — Mum seemed to care about it.

Dom — Too bad she ultimately couldn’t make it.

Fred — She wasn’t feeling well… You can understand her…

Dom — Yes… For her, obviously… it’s a shock.

Fred — He was her son, after all.

Dom — But since she gave up on this trip, we could have canceled…

Fred — I was the one who bought the tickets. They were non-exchangeable and non-refundable.

Dom — I see… So… we’re here just to make sure the tickets don’t go to waste, then.

Fred — Exactly.

Dom — And what about Mum’s ticket?

Fred — I gave it to… Yan.

Dom — Really? Is Yan here too?

Fred — Well, she is part of the family after all.

Dom — If you say so… But… we didn’t see her on the train! Did we?

Fred — It was a plane ticket… Mum insisted on redoing the same journey as him… To find out…

Dom — Find out what?

Fred — I don’t know…

Dom — I see… Like those people who redo the twelve stations of the cross, in shorts and flip-flops, carrying a small backpack with a cold drink… To find out…

Fred — Yes… Or the Camino de Santiago, taking it in small parts each year, and staying in guesthouses every night.

Dom — So, in the end, it was Yan who inherited his Paris-Brest…

Fred — I don’t know what happened… She should have arrived before us.

Dom — So… she was traveling on the same airline? I mean, the shitty airline whose plane crashed here?

Fred — Rainbow Discount Airways… Yeah…

Dom — Well… I hope that for her, at least, we’ll find a few pieces.

Fred — Let’s hope they’re not too big, and that they don’t hit us on the head… Because this is heavy stuff..

They burst into laughter. Yan arrives in a rather extravagant outfit, not really appropriate for the last tribute to the deceased.. She carries a small pastry box. The other two try to regain their composure.

Yan — Oh, you’re already here?

Dom — Yes, and… actually, we were getting a little concerned that you hadn’t arrived yet.

Fred — Did you have a good trip?

Yan — You know… Paris-Brest… They don’t even have time to serve us a hot meal on the plane… (Pointing to the package) I got this from a pastry shop on the way…

Fred — Ah, I see…

Yan — So, is this the place?

Dom — Seems like it.

Yan looks around and takes a few steps towards the room.

Fred — Don’t get too close.

Dom — It would be foolish if you were to fall off a cliff while paying tribute to the victim of a plane crash, especially if someone is standing below…

Yan — I wanted to bring flowers, but on the plane… And then, there was no florist.

Dom — But fortunately, there was a pastry shop…

A moment of solemnity.

Yan — Obviously, you haven’t found anything, right?

Fred — We didn’t really look.

Dom — That’s not why we came, is it?

Yan — In fact, I’m starting to wonder why we came.

Dom — To pay our final respects, it seems.

Yan — Okay… And how do we do that?

Fred — We were wondering the same thing before you showed up.

Yan — That’s when religion can come in handy. (The other two look at her surprised) I mean, for the rituals…

Dom — Yes, because… I can’t see us saying a little prayer.

Fred — Especially as we don’t know any.

Dom — Does anyone have another idea?

Yan — I don’t know… A minute of silence?

Fred — Okay…

They remain silent for a while. Dom looks at his watch.

Dom — I’m getting a bit hungry… (Looking at the pastry box) So, you’ve brought us some cakes?

Yan — I only took one, but well… We can share.

She opens the box.

Fred — What is it?

Yan — A Paris-Brest.

Dom — A what?

Yan — A Paris-Brest. It’s the name of a French cake.

Dom — Ah yes, it’s… It’s quite appropriate…

Yan — I don’t know how we’re going to cut this into four.

Dom — Into four?

Yan — I mean into three. There are three of us, right?

Fred — I always carry a knife with me…

The other two give him a slightly worried look. He takes out a knife and cuts the cake into three pieces.

Dom — Well, there you go… It will be a kind of Republican communion.

They each take a third of the cake and start chewing.

Yan — It’s true that we could have cut it into four, but well…

Fred — It’s not that big already …

Dom — Yes, a kind of sacrifice… It’s a ritual practiced in quite a few religions… God’s share….

Yan — Or the devil’s share.

Dom — The Father’s, the taxman’s, and the Holy Spirit’s share.

Fred — The poor man’s share…

Dom — I hope it won’t sit heavy on our stomachs.

A pause.

Dom — It did rain quite a bit.

Fred — We’re in Brittany.

Dom — It doesn’t really look like Brittany, does it?

Yan — I don’t know.

Dom — I mean, well… it could be anywhere. It doesn’t look like anything.

Fred — There are cliffs…

Yan — Yes, but I can’t see the sea. Can you see the sea?

Fred — No.

Dom — It’s very dark. And the cliffs look very high.

Fred — I wonder if they had time to see the sea before…

Dom — I don’t know…

Yan — We’ll never know…

Dom — But you, who took the same plane? Could you see the sea?

Yan — I don’t know… I… I fell asleep…

Dom — Okay… We offer her a pilgrimage by plane, and she falls asleep. We were counting on you to tell us… How are we supposed to mourn now?

A pause.

Fred — The rain has stopped.

Yan — Yes. It’s clearing up a bit.

Fred — Looks like there’s going to be a rainbow.

Dom — They say the human body is mostly made up of water.

Fred — So what?

Dom — Maybe it’s him.

Yan — Who?

Dom — The rainbow… (The other two look at him, not understanding.) As you said, he was vaporized…

They all look at the rainbow again.

Yan — It’s like an apparition, then.

Fred — Yes, it’s kind of like we found him.

Dom — Yes… Kind of…

They admire the rainbow while finishing the remaining bites of their Paris — Brest.

Yan — We’ll just have to tell Mum about it. About the rainbow… It will make her happy.

Fred — It’s true that it’s a beautiful symbol…

Yan — Yes… The rainbow…

Dom — The family reunited at last…

A pause.

Fred — Maybe we could take a photo?

Dom — Do you think so?

Yan — It’ll be a memento.

Dom — Okay…

Fred — Let’s take a selfie.

They position themselves with their backs to the audience to take a selfie.

Yan — Cheese…

Fred takes the photo and they change their position.

Dom — Can we go now, then?

Yan — I’ve just arrived!

Fred — We can stay a bit longer.

Yan — It will help us to…

Fred — To mourn…

Yan — That’s why we came, right?

Dom — Well…

Fred, who took the photo, looks at the result on his screen.

Fred — All I can see is the rainbow… I don’t know why, but well… That’ll do.

Dom — Let me see… (Fred shows him the screen) Oh yes… It looks like the logo of…

Fred — The LGBT movement…

Dom — I was thinking more of an advertisement for an insurance company, or a bank…

Yan — Or an airline…

Dom — Rainbow Discount Airways…

Yan (looking around) — I’ve never been to Brittany before. And you?

Fred — Yeah, I have.

Yan — We’ll have to come back. In the summer.

Dom — Isn’t it summer?

Yan — Oh, right, maybe… It’s because of the weather…

Fred — Actually, it’s raining again.

Yan — Yes, the rainbow’s disappeared.

Dom — That’s a sign, isn’t it?

Fred — A sign of what?

Dom — That we might be able to go now. The miraculous hologram has disappeared. That’s enough, right?

Yan — I don’t know…

Dom — I’m fine, I’ve done my mourning, haven’t you?

Fred — Okay. Let’s go.

Yan opens an umbrella.

Dom — You even thought to bring an umbrella!

Yan — What would you do without me?

The other two stand under the umbrella, on either side of Yan.

Yan — It gave us a chance to spend some time together, at least.

Dom — Yes… Ultimately, this painful experience brought us closer, together.

Fred — How long has it been since we last saw each other, anyway?

Yan — I don’t know… A long time…

Fred — Wait, the last time was…

Dom — Which way is it, by the way?

They hesitate for a moment.

Fred — I think it’s this way…

Dom — Are you sure?

Yan — We should have left breadcrumbs on the way, like Hansel and Gretel…

Fred — Let’s try this way, we’ll see.

They are about to leave when Yan notices something on the ground and picks it up.

Fred — What is it? A stone?

Yan — A ballpoint pen.

Dom — Well… You didn’t come all this way for nothing….

Yan examines the pen.

Fred — What’s wrong?

Yan — It’s a promotional pen.

Dom — So what?

Yan (handing him the pen) — Here, take a look…

Dom takes the pen and examines it as well.

Dom — Barclays Bank…

Yan — He worked at a bank… At Barclays, I believe…

Fred — You mean that…

Dom — No, but wait… Thousands of people work at Barclays! Not to mention its millions of customers!

Fred — Yeah… But we’re at the crash zone…

Dom — A zone of sixteen square kilometres! The police experts didn’t find any trace of him, but we would have found his pen?

Yan — Why not? Miracles do happen, don’t they?

Dom — Oh, really? I thought they didn’t exist, actually…

Fred — Even without a miracle… Sometimes you find a needle in a haystack.

Dom — I think we’re getting a bit delirious here. It must be the fever. We must have caught a cold.

Yan takes back the pen and examines it again.

Yan — It’s the address of a Barclays agency in the 16th district of Paris.

Fred — He lived in the 16th district?

Yan — Well, he lived in Paris. And we’re in Brittany.

Dom — Yeah…

Yan — Maybe he left a message…

Dom — A message…?

Yan — If he had his pen in his hand when the plane went into a nosedive… Maybe he had time to write a message, sensing the end was coming…

Dom — Of course… And why not throw a message in a bottle too? Through the window.

Fred — Still, that pen didn’t get here by itself…

Dom — In a case like this, nowadays, you pick up your phone to leave a message, right? You don’t grab a pencil and paper to write your will…

Yan — Well, you know he didn’t have a cell phone!

Dom — Oh really… He didn’t have a cell phone? No, I didn’t know that…

Fred — The last time he called me, it was from a phone booth. But we got cut off. We didn’t even have time to talk… I didn’t even get to say goodbye.

Dom — Why would you say goodbye to him? You didn’t know what was going to happen to him!

Yan — Additionally, cell phone usage is prohibited on planes due to potential interference with the pilot’s communication and air traffic control.

Fred — Who knows… Maybe trying to leave his farewell message caused this air disaster…

Dom — Oh yes, that’s… That’s impeccable logic.

Yan — What he means is that… it could have caused the plane to crash.

Dom — I know this guy had a streak of bad luck and seemed to bring misfortune to anyone who got close to him, but seriously…

Fred — Yeah, personally, if I had the choice, I would have steered clear of flying with him on Friday the 13th.

Dom — For sure, if he had been alive back then, his name would have surely been on the Titanic’s passenger list.

Fred — So, what do we do now?

Yan — We could take a quick look…

Dom — A look? At what?

Yan — If the pen fell here, the paper might not be far away.

Dom — Is this a joke?

Fred — Now that we’re here… What do we have to lose?

Yan and Fred start looking. Dom looks on in dismay.

Yan — We can’t see much…

Fred (to Dom) — Come on, help us, it’ll be faster!

Dom rolls his eyes.

Dom — I can’t believe it…

He pretends to search a bit.

Yan — Have you looked over there?

Fred — I’ll do it…

Yan — I’ll look on the other side. Dom, you take this corner.

Fred — If the pen fell here, the paper might not be far away.

Dom — Except that paper flies. Much better than a pen. Much better than a plane, anyway…

Dom shrugs, when suddenly his eyes are drawn to something. He bends down and picks up a piece of paper, reading it.

Yan — What is it?

Fred — No way… Is that it?

Yan — His will? I mean… his farewell letter?

Dom — I don’t know… There are a few scribbled words… It’s not signed.

Fred — Maybe he didn’t have time.

Yan — But is it his handwriting?

Dom — Do you know his handwriting?

Yan — No.

Fred — He wasn’t the type to write very often.

Dom — No, he wasn’t. In fact, even when he was alive, he was mostly the type to play dead.

Yan — But what does it say?

Dom (reading) — “This note to tell you that I won’t be coming home tonight…”

Fred — That’s it?

Dom — That’s it.

Yan — And it’s not signed?

Dom — No.

Fred — But who is it addressed to?

Dom — Who knows…

Yan — Maybe to his wife.

Fred — Was he married?

Yan — Not to my knowledge.

Fred — Maybe he was gay…

The other two look at him with surprise.

Dom — Why do you say that?

Fred — I don’t know… It just came to me… Since he wasn’t married.

Dom — Just so you know, nowadays you can be gay and married.

Fred — You’re right. I don’t know why I said that.

Yan — Yeah… I wonder if we really knew him that well, actually.

Dom — No, do you think so?

Fred — How can we know if this little note is from him or not…?

Yan — Let me see…

She takes the paper from Dom, takes out the pen, and draws a line on it.

Yan — The ink is the same colour as the pen.

Fred — What colour?

Yan — Blue.

Fred — Does that mean this note was written with this pen?

Dom — It’s a thin piece of evidence, isn’t it? One pen out of two writes in blue!

Yan flips the paper over.

Yan — It’s written on the back of a flyer…

Fred — And what is it an advertisement for? The Barclays?

Yan — An African marabout… Neutralizing bad luck, bringing back good fortune, success in love, professional success, happiness for couples and families…

Dom — If he was really on that plane, it didn’t work for him.

Yan — “This note to tell you that I won’t be coming home tonight”… Still, it does look like a farewell message, doesn’t it?

Dom — Yes… It could also be a message left on the kitchen table by a husband to tell his wife that he’s away on business. Or from a wife to her husband, telling him she just dumped him.

Yan — Here? In the middle of nowhere?

Dom — I’ll say it again: paper does fly… sometimes.

Fred — So, what do we do?

Dom — What do you mean, what do we do?

Fred — Even if this note wasn’t written by him, it must have been written by another passenger. We need to find out who it was.

Dom — What for?

Yan — To give it to the person it was intended for, of course!

Dom — Can you imagine us conducting a handwriting analysis to determine which of the plane crash victims might have written this message and to whom it was addressed?

Fred — Obviously, we won’t be the ones performing the analysis. But we can hand this document over to the forensic police experts.

Dom — Of course… All this effort just to eventually deliver this final message from someone’s beloved, who passed away, to a widow or orphan in six months or a year: “This note is to tell you that I won’t be coming home tonight.” I think they’re starting to suspect that, right?

Fred — Yeah, well, now that you mention it…

Yan — It’s true, looking at it that way…

Dom — But obviously!

Fred — So, what do we do with this paper?

Dom — Let’s just put it back where we found it, and that’s it.

Yan — Alright… (She puts the paper on the ground) Was it here?

Dom — I don’t know… Maybe a little further… Does it really matter?

Fred — So, nothing will have changed… In a way… we’re in a sanctuary here.

Yan — That’s true… It’s a place inhabited by the ghosts that haunt it… Don’t you feel their presence?

Fred — Yeah… A little…

Dom — Yes, if you say so…

Yan gently puts down the paper and remains frozen for a moment in contemplation.

Yan — I’m going to keep the pen anyway.

Dom — You’re right… It could always come in handy… Especially if you’re coming back by plane. You never know, with the law of averages… Do you have any paper too? I have some if you need…

Yan puts the pen away.

Yan — Alright, let’s go then.

Dom — That’s it, let’s go…

Fred hesitates once again.

Fred — Excuse me, but…

Dom — What is it now?

Fred — I just need a minute.

Dom — What time is the damn train? We’re going to miss it if this keeps up. It’s already getting dark.

Fred — No, don’t worry, it will only take a second.

Yan — Alright… We’re listening.

Fred — It’s about what I said earlier…

Yan — What? What did you say?

Fred — When I said… that he might be gay.

Yan — So what? Do you have new information on that too?

Dom — Well, now that he’s dead… It really puts his sexual orientation into perspective, doesn’t it?

Fred — Actually… I have good reasons to believe that he was…

Yan — Gay?

Dom — Oh my god, it all makes sense…

Yan — Yes, the rainbow! When we said it was a sign…

Dom — No, this is a nightmare… We’re not going to spend the night here. Discussing our brother’s posthumous coming out while his remains are scattered over an area of sixteen square kilometres!

Yan — We have the right to know, even after his death, who he really was. He was our brother, after all.

Dom — Alright, so our dear brother was gay, yes or no?

Yan — What I meant to say is that I have good reasons to believe that he wasn’t really our brother.

Dom — Oh damn… We’ll never figure this out…

Yan — Not our brother? You mean… he was adopted or something.

Fred — Not even that.

Dom — What do you mean, not even that?

Fred — He was about the same age as us. Maybe a little older. We always thought he was our older brother. But well…

Yan — It’s true that I would have never thought to directly ask him the question.

Fred — Especially since he wasn’t the talkative type.

Yan — No… I admit I even wondered if he was mute…

Dom — So, in your opinion, this guy we always saw at home, he wasn’t our brother?

Fred — We have to admit that it was never explicitly stated.

Dom — Indeed… That leaves me speechless… It was never explicitly stated…

Yan — But if he wasn’t our brother, then who was he?

Fred — Be careful, I didn’t say I was sure.

Dom — You said you had good reasons to think so.

Yan — Yes, and what are those good reasons?

Fred — Well… first of all, to begin with, he didn’t resemble us much.

Dom — The three of us don’t look very much alike… And yet we’re brother and sister.

Yan — Yes, that’s true.

Dom — Well, who knows… Maybe we’re not brother and sister after all…

Yan — You think so?

Dom — Nah, just kidding… Although… It was never explicitly stated either.

Fred — That’s true…

Dom — But don’t you think we’re going a bit too far here?

Yan — It’s starting to give me the creeps, what about you?

Fred — Yeah…

Dom — When you mentioned that he didn’t resemble us much, do you have other reasons to think that he might not be our brother?

Fred — Well… His first name, for example…

Yan — His fist name… It’s true that… What was his name again?

Dom — Loïc.

Yan — That’s right. I always had trouble with that name. Even now, I’m not really sure how to spell it.

Fred — Loïc? It’s spelt the way it’s pronounced, isn’t it?

Yan — Yeah… But precisely… Do you put a diaeresis on the i or not? Because otherwise, it wouldn’t be pronounced Loïc. Usually…

Fred — That… (To Dom) Would you put a diaeresis, or not?

Dom — I don’t know… And I confess that until today, I never wondered about it… And since I never wrote his first name…

Fred — Well yes, we didn’t have many opportunities to write to him. He was always there…

Yan — And even regarding the pronunciation… We have to say that we didn’t often call him by his fist name.

Fred — No. And when we did call him, he didn’t often answer.

Dom — I even wondered if he was deaf.

Yan — Loïc…

Fred — It’s a Breton name.

Yan — Oh really?

Fred — Well yes! It’s even a brand of cider, I think.

Dom — That’s strange… I always thought it was Polish.

Yan — Why Polish?

Dom — I don’t know… Loïc… Ending with an “ïc”. It sounds Polish to me…

Yan — My name is Yannick, and I’m not Polish. Well, not to my knowledge…

Fred — In any case, whether it’s Breton or Polish, it’s not a French name… I mean, not like ours. Dominique, Frederick, Yannick…

Dom — Your name is Frederick?

Fred — Of course it is! Didn’t you know?

Dom — No…

Yan — Neither did I…

Dom — We’ve always called you Fred.

Fred — Fred is a nickname. For Frederick.

Dom — Well, anyway, he had a Breton first name. We have to wonder why.

Yan — But that doesn’t mean he’s not our brother…

Dom — We can always ask Mum when we get back.

Yan — Yeah… Even if it’s not the kind of question that’s easy to ask your mother…

Fred — I wanted to do a DNA test, but he died before that.

Yan — Without asking for his permission, you mean?

Fred — It’s still possible to find a piece of… Today, it’s not complicated.

Dom — Obviously, now it’s going to be more difficult. Sixteen square kilometres, and not a single visible piece with the naked eye…

Yan — Loïc… Maybe that explains the Paris-Brest…

Dom — What do you mean?

Yan — If it’s a Breton name! Maybe he still had connections to Brittany…

Dom — Now that you mention it, I often saw him eating crepes and drinking cider.

Yan — Is that true?

Dom — No, I’m just joking… You can see we’re in the middle of something crazy here.

Yan — Still… It’s all very strange…

Dom — What? What’s strange?

Fred — For starters… Why didn’t Mum come, for example?

Dom — You told me yourself that she wasn’t feeling well.

Yan — It could have been an excuse not to come.

Dom — That’s it… And maybe she’s not our mother either…

Yan — I didn’t say that…

Dom — Earlier, we were wondering if we were really brother and sister. If we’re not brother and sister, then Mum isn’t our mother either.

Fred — Whose mother would she be then?

Yan — Maybe Loïc’ mother?

Fred — Well, there you have it! In fact, he is the true child of the family. And the fake brothers and sisters are us.

Fred — But then what are we doing here? I mean, what would we have been doing in this family for so many years? If we’re not part of the family, that is…

Dom — Who knows…

Yan — Maybe we were there as foster children.

Dom — That’s it… Our parents never came to get us. And the woman we called Mum kept us. Out of Christian charity.

Yan — And she never dared to tell us that we weren’t really her children.

Fred — It’s true that she never clearly told us that we were her children.

Dom — Well, there you have it! And since her legitimate son was deaf-mute, he couldn’t say otherwise either.

Fred — That would explain a lot of things…

Yan — Yes, everything is clear now…

Dom — You think so?

A pause.

Yan — There’s still one detail that bothers me, though.

Dom — No kidding?

Yan — Does that mean that all our parents died at the same time?

Dom — What do you mean?

Fred — If we were in foster home, and she adopted us because our parents died. It means that our own parents all died at the same time.

Yan — Since we’re not brother and sister.

Dom — Oh yeah…

Yan — In an accident, then.

Fred — Yes… They might have been on the same plane…

Dom — What plane?

Yan — I don’t know… The one that crashed here?

Dom — Here?

Fred — But how long ago was this crash, exactly?

Dom — Exactly, I don’t know. And I have to admit that I’m starting to get a bit confused. Don’t you want us to forget this hypothesis and just stay brother and sister?

Yan — You’re right… We shouldn’t exaggerate. We are indeed brother and sister, it’s obvious…

A pause.

Fred — I have another hypothesis.

Yan — What?

Fred — What if he was our father, instead?

Dom — Who?

Fred — Loïc!

Dom — Here we go again.

Yan — He was a bit young to be our father, wasn’t he?

Fred — Young? That depends… At what age?

Dom — And we never saw him with… I mean, he didn’t sleep in the same room as our mother.

Fred — That would have definitely caught our attention.

Yan — Actually, I wouldn’t be able to say in which room he slept.

Fred — Yeah… Or in which plate he ate.

Yan — Or in which closet he kept his clothes.

Dom — In short, we wouldn’t be able to confirm if he really existed.

General consternation.

Fred — Loïc…

Yan — Our father…

Dom — Our father who art in heaven…

Yan — After disappearing without a trace in a plane crash. Before being able to give us life.

Dom — Before?

Yan — If he doesn’t exist, it means we’re not his children.

Dom — Or that we don’t exist either…

Yan — It’s Loïc… I mean, it’s logical…

A pause.

Fred — So that’s it… We are the children our mother never had.

Fred — It’s true that she didn’t talk to us much either.

Yan — No… And we have to admit that where she lives, there’s only one bedroom, right?

Fred — Hers.

Yan — Yes, it’s obvious… Mum has always lived in a studio.

Dom — Soon you’ll be telling me she was a virgin too… Or a nun…

Fred — Do you think that studio could be a convent cell or something like that?

Dom — That’s it… She joined a convent because God the Father crashed into the sea before immaculate contraception…

They all remain stunned for a moment.

Fred — I’m going to take another photo.

Dom — A family photo? What for? It doesn’t seem very relevant anymore, does it?

Yan — To find out if we really exist. Earlier, we weren’t in the photo.

Dom — I’m not sure…

Yan — What?

Dom — If I want to know…

Fred steps back a bit, towards the backstage area, to get some perspective.

Fred — I’ll take both of you to make sure… Move a little closer…

Dom and Yan move closer to each other, feeling a bit uncomfortable. Fred moves back even further, until he disappears. A moment’s hesitation. The light changes.

Dom — I think I remember.

Yan — It wasn’t an accident.

Dom — It wasn’t a terrorist attack either.

Yan — It was…

Dom — Some kind of suicide.

Yan — That’s it. A mass suicide.

Dom — Well, it wasn’t really a suicide.

Yan — The pilot plunged them all into the abyss with him.

Dom — They should have never boarded that plane.

Yan — But how could they know? When you board a plane, you don’t choose the pilot.

Dom — No.

Yan — You blindly trust someone you don’t know. And you put your life in their hands.

Dom — Like children who rely on their parents. Because they have no choice.

Yan — But adults… It’s madness.

Dom — Yes.

Yan — We should always know which airline we’re flying with and who’s in control.

Dom — We should never be able to say afterwards: “I didn’t know.”

Yan — They’re all dead.

Dom — And we were never born.

Yan — That’s why no bodies were found.

Dom — We were simply erased.

Yan — But where are we exactly?

Fred — I don’t know… It looks like a prison…

Dom — An open-air one, then…

Yan — More like a cemetery.

A pause.

Dom — Weren’t we three earlier?

Yan — Earlier?

Dom — Frederick! Don’t you remember? We called him Fred.

Yan — Oh yes, maybe.

Dom — He went that way.

He goes to check towards the wings. And returns.

Yan — So?

Dom — Nothing. It’s the edge of the cliff.

Yan — Is it the same there too?

Yan walks around the stage.

Yan — Actually, we’re not at the edge of the abyss… We’re surrounded by emptiness.

Dom — We’re in the middle of nowhere. And something tells me we won’t be leaving anytime soon.

Yan — It’s like we’re on an island surrounded by nothingness.

Dom — Don’t get too close to the edge!

Yan — It’s the edge that’s getting closer…

The light starts to fade.

Dom — It’s getting darker and darker.

Yan — Does anyone have a taper?

Dom — You mean a candle?

Yan takes out a candle from her bag.

Yan — I always carry one. But I don’t have a lighter…

Dom — What’s the point of always carrying a candle if you don’t have a lighter?

Yan — Do you have a lighter?

Dom lights the candle.

Dom — It fells like a candle auction…

Yan — If the candle goes out before they come to get us, we’ll never be born.

The candle burns for a moment.

Dom — So, no one?

Yan — Seriously, no regrets?

Dom — No remorse…?

Yan — Is there a pilot in the audience?

A moment of silence.

Dom — We are the children of no one.

Yan — In no place. And in no case.

Dom — We only have the freedom to decide when… to return to nothingness.

Dom blows out the candle.

Black.

The End.