Old Friends

A story of waking up, with Ian and Tristan (and an appearance by Jude). 

Aboard IAN’s boat. Day, shortly after noon.

A single light illuminates IAN, who is sitting at the table. He looks at his phone, at a text message from an old friend. His whiskey bottle and empty tumbler stand on the table within reach.

IAN: Larry. Man, it's been a long time.

Another light gradually brightens to reveal TRISTAN standing a few feet behind IAN, ballcap pulled down over his eyes and his hands in his pockets.

TRISTAN: Who’s Larry?

IAN: He’s an old high school friend. We did the plays together. Pretty much inseparable. Well, until the end of the summer after graduation. He went off to college and so did I, his life went in one direction and mine went another.

TRISTAN: What then?

IAN: Well, a couple days ago, out of nowhere I got this message on LinkedIn of all places! Turns out after heading our separate ways back in ’94 he joined the Navy, too. Imagine that! Two theater kids not particularly good at math or science end up as Navy nuclear engineers!

TRISTAN: Kinda weird, someone reaching out after all that time.

IAN: Weird? I don’t know. Well, maybe. We sent some messages back and forth. He just retired. Moved back to Pennsylvania, a place called Neighborful Station.

TRISTAN: Never heard of it.

IAN: Neither had I. Apparently, it’s off the turnpike between Harrisburg and Pittsburgh.

TRISTAN: Sounds strange. Are you sure he's not a bot or something?

IAN: Yeah. He knew stuff only he would know.

TRISTAN: Like what?

IAN: Not telling.

They pause for a moment.

IAN: He invited me to come up there for a few days. To reconnect. I'm supposed to get on the road today.

TRISTAN: Supposed to? Are you actually going?

IAN: I … I don't know. I told him I would, but... I don't know. I just... He was a great friend back in the early nineties, but that was thirty years ago! My God, I've changed so much. And probably he has, too. I don't want to be stuck up there and have it all … awkward.

As TRISTAN speaks, the light slowly brightens over him as it dims over IAN.

TRISTAN: So much change in thirty years. Both of you. It's been so long since you spoke. What could you say? Can friendship just pick up like nothing happened? Like there is no gap of thirty years?

Remember the podcast you heard? An old friend, a guest on a show on sound design. Flashbacks from your days in a band, memories of your very few gigs, fun times, and embarrassing. He sounded great, just like high school, working with experimental sound, a natural gift he has. Good memories … why not keep them as they are?

Another old friend wrote a novel. A wonderful story, a fun read. Then you read the acknowledgements. One paragraph contained the entirety of your high school experience, listing so many people whose names you know. So many names, so many memories, and you were not among them. All that time together, all the misadventures, the laughs, so much of your youth spent among them. And they did not remember you. Twenty years later you might as well have never been there.

Should you meet again, they’d remember you. They’d welcome you. But as a stranger on the outskirts of the social circle, close to falling off the edge again. They might not notice if you did. They have their own lives without you in them.

It might feel good to visit. It might be like no time at all had passed. Then phone calls follow. Then texts when calls become too hard. They slow. They trickle. And you watch good friendship die a second time.

Now the light above TRISTAN is blinding bright and the one over IAN is so dim he’s barely visible.

IAN: Yeah, maybe you're right.

IAN pours whiskey into his tumbler. 

IAN: Cheers, Larry.

As he raises the glass to his lips, his phone chimes with a text message. 

JUDE: Hey IAN, have a safe trip! I want to hear all about it when you get back.

IAN pauses, and a moment later the light goes out over TRISTAN. Another momentary pause. Steadily, the lights get brighter, illuminating the whole scene. TRISTAN is no longer there. IAN raises his eyes to look into the distance, then comes to his senses. He walks to the sink, dumps out the whiskey, grabs the packed bag from his bed, and leaves his boat to start the drive to Neighborful Station.

To be continued…. 

To find out what happens next, listen to this episode of the podcast Neighborful Station, released on Saturday, December 6.

This is a work of fiction based on actual events.

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