Scene Five

      Maralynn paced the stage, her heels clacking on the old wooden floors. Long forgotten stains and placement tape idled past her as she rambled back and forth anxiously, clutching the crumpled letter delicately between two cold hands. Her red dress, red as blood, swished back and forth. It was quiet enough for a cough to sound like a war horn. For her steps to echo. For time to stop moving. 

The stage hand’s radio crackled into existence, announcing that everything was in perfect position. Her breath stopped. Her steps continued. Anxious. Anticipating. The curtain rattled and raised. A stoplight pierced through the darkness. She could practically hear the crowd’s heartbeats. Just for a moment. A single moment. Before they disappeared completely. 

With a deep breath she was no longer Maralynn, pacing her school’s old stage anxiously. She was Lady Macbeth, pacing her castle’s ancient floors as she read an awaited letter. A letter that would decide her future. A letter that would finally put her ambitions within her grasp. 

“They met me in the day of success.” Her voice reverberated through the hall, strong and confident. “And I have learned by the perfectest report, they have more in them than mortal knowledge. When I burned in desire to question them further, they made themselves air, into which they vanished.” Lady Macbeth paused. Just for a split second, to let the words hang in the air. Before continuing ‘her’ letter.

The words became a blur. She had read them over and over but she allowed herself to read the words on the page as if she were reading them for the very first time. As if they were all important, all foreign, and all strange. 

“Hie thee hither, That I may pour my spirits in thine ear; And chastise with the valor of my tongue. All that impedes thee from the golden round, Which fate and metaphysical aid both seem to have crown’d thee withal.” She took a breath. She stared at the letter. As if if re-scanning the words 

Finally, much too late, Matthew’s obnoxious voice interrupted the silence. She looked up, stage left, as the ‘attendant’ walked towards her. “Did I permit you to speak?” She interrupted. “What is your tidings?” 

“The king comes here to-night.” He repeated. Matthew looked annoyed, as if she had been the one who missed her cue and skipped a line. 

“Thou’rt mad to say it: Is not thy master with him? Who, were’t so, Would have inform’d for preparation.” She waited, her eyes fixed fiercely on the attendant. Matthew stared back at her blankly. 

“Oh, right.” Matthew startled. She bit her tongue. “S-so please you, it is true.” His words were garbled, and he spoke like he was detached from the words he was saying. “Our thane is coming. Um- one of my . . . um- fellows had the s-speed of him. Who . . . who . . . almost dead for . . . breath! Had scar-sly more than make up his message.” He looked too relieved to be finished speaking. Maralynn worried that she looked the same. 

She waved her hand dismissively. “Give him tending.” She said a bit harshly. “He brings great news.” 

Matthew practically ran off stage right, passing right in front of her. 

“The raven himself is hoarse, that croaks the fatal entrance of Duncan under my battlements.” She sighed. “Come, you spirits! That tend on mortal thoughts, unsex me here.” giggles came from the direction of the audience. “And fill me.” She said, a bit louder. “From the crown to the toe, top-full of direst cruelty! Make thick my blood, stop up th’ access and passage to remorse, that no compunctious visitings of nature shake my fell purpose. Nor keep peace between th’ effect and it! Come to my women’s breasts.” More giggles. “And take my milk for gall.” All out laughing in the front row. “You murdering ministers.” 

She continued her monologue in a blur. The audience was silent for the remainder. “Nor heaven peep through the blacket of the dark, to cry “Hold, hold!” 

Eric or ‘Macbeth’ rushed on stage left, bellowing his cape and spreading his scrawny arms wide to make himself look bigger. 

“Great Glamis! Worthy Cawdor!” She boomed, before the sound techs turned her down ever so slightly. “Greater than both, by the all-hail hereafter!” She stumbled forward slightly, holding out her arms as if about to hug him. They met in the middle of the stage. “Thy letters have transported me beyond this ignorant present, and I feel now the future in the instant.” 

“My dear’st love.” Macbeth said tenderly. He stared into her eyes. Her breath caught in her throat. Behold the power of Eric Crawly. “Duncan comes here to-night.” 

She waited a moment too long to respond. His eyes were boring into her soul. “And when goes hence?” She finally asked. Too quietly. 

“To-morrow.” He paused, and looked away. “As he purposes.” 

She sprung away, raising her voice. From the corner of her eye she saw someone in the front row startle from a half-asleep state. “O! Never shall the sun that morrow see! Your face, my thane.” She stumbled forward again and reached up on tip-toes to cradle her cast-mate’s face. He smiled. She felt her own face growing as red as his cheeks. “Is a book where men may read strange matters. To beguile the time, look like the time, bear welcome to your eye, your hand, your tongue.” From behind her hands he stuck out his tongue at her. She shook her head ever so slightly and raised her face up closer to his. “Look like the innocent flower.” She insisted. “But be the serpent under’t.” 

She pulled her hands away. Pulled herself away. “He that’s coming must be provided for, and you shall put this night’s great business into my dispatch. Which shall to all our nights and days come give solely sovereign sway and masterdom. “

“We shall speak further.” Eric said, half-dismissively. 

“Only look up clear, to alter favor ever is to fear.” She paused, and turned towards the audience. She lowered her voice just a bit. “Leave the rest to me.” 

Silence. Silence hung in the air as the actors awaited their reward with baited breath. While the audience sat for just a moment to take in the entirety of what they had just seen. 

Finally. Finally. The curtain dropped, and the audience offered up their reward. Riotous applause. She looked towards Eric. Both shared a glowing smile, before walking into the wings. Eric made a b-line for his script. Maralynn remained in the wings for the next scene. 

The play wasn’t over after all.