Continued from previous weeks…
Ritchie glares at Gary. “White Boy? ‘New York intellectual’? Genius who just took us into prehistory? Now that you’re no longer high on that ‘better than acid’ you can’t get us back to 1968? You so damn useless you’ve even got Mona kicking tree trunks when what we’d really like to kick is you!”
Mona hugs the tree she just kicked, looks sheepishly at the uninterrupted forest surrounding them, and starts to cry.
The wino stumbles to Mona’s side, struggles to regain his balance, and clumsily strokes her back. Then he turns to Gary. “Tell us what we all have to understand to get back, Gary.”
Ritchie smirks and throws his hands up.
Gary glares at Ritchie. “You got any better ideas?”
Ritchie starts to speak but then stops, several times. Then, like Mona, he looks at the forest.
There’s a moment of silence. Then, deep in the forest, there’s the sound of heavy footfalls.
Wino: “Gary, how about…the smaller monster?”
Mona: “No, forget monsters, Gary! The butterfly! The butterfly like you did before!”
Gary: “I didn’t do this! I don’t even know what’s out there. I can’t do any of this taking-something-different-out-of-infinity shit now that I’m no longer high. Unless… Maybe…”
There are more footfalls, getting much closer now. Branches are snapping like twigs.
Everyone steps back.
Ritchie’s looking back and forth between the approaching footsteps and Gary.
The footsteps suddenly change direction and recede into the distance.
Ritchie grabs Gary. “Tell us what we all have to understand to get back!”
To be continued next week…
