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If one were to ask Guildenstern how he remembered life - he would say it was like a peat bog - with few ups but one or two deep sink-holes that would suck you in and drag you down.There was, for example, the unpleasant discovery he made during his and Rosencrantz's trip to Elsinore:The Player King had left to go "on" - hiding (presumably) behind some nearby bush or tree. Guildenstern checked the coin, and snorted smugly. It was tails."I knew it was just a matter of time until the laws of probability took over." He turned to where he assumed his own audience would be waiting only to find that Rosencrantz had wandered off. "Where are you going?" Guildenstern barely suppressed the irrational panic that bubbled up. "I thought I saw something... a light..." Rosencrantz shrugged, "Its gone now." Through the secret language of old friends (facial expressions and hand signals) they agreed that neither of them particularly wanted to see whatever kind of show the tragedians were going to put on. They slipped away as the Player King came "on" monologuing about some sort of rotten thing that had happened to his kingdom."Does anything seem different to you?" Guildenstern looked up at the sky as if it surprised him somehow."Well, we aren't in the same place we were - we've walked a bit.""No, its something else. I feel... unusually fresh - is that the word I'm looking for?" He checked in with Rosencrantz who shrugged. "As if I had been stuck in a musty attic or a box or... something. And I've just been let out to stretch my legs, breathe some fresh air.""We could check..." Rosencrantz reached into his purse for a coin."No." Guildenstern spoke sharply but when Rosencrantz turned to him, surprised, Guildenstern spoke more gently, "I just had a change of luck, no need to take chances...""What's the matter with you?" Rosencrantz put the coin away, muttering to himself. He watched as Guildenstern walked away until Guildenstern was far enough ahead that Rosencrantz had to run to catch up. This, in itself, was fine; however, Rosencrantz immediately tripped over a tree root and fell. Guildenstern, for his part, didn't notice any of this and continued at the same pace until Rosencrantz's words sunk in and made him stop."What is the matter with me?" He looked behind him in time to see Rosencrantz struggle up, brush himself off and trip a second time over the same tree root. Rosencrantz rose, straightening his clothing while laughing nervously."I could have sworn those tree roots weren't there before.""No..." Guildenstern said thoughtfully in a tone that made it difficult to tell if he was agreeing with Rosencrantz or questioning him. Guildenstern examined the coin that broke their streak. He looked at one side, then the other and back again. He checked a second time to be absolutely sure before he dejectedly sat with his head in his hands."Lucky, wasn't it? Well, lucky for you," Rosencrantz added humbly, watching carefully as he stepped. "Maybe if we continued you would have had a streak like I did and won all of your money back. Not that I need the money... But still..."Guildenstern silently handed Rosencrantz the coin without raising his head. Rosencrantz looked at one side of the coin. Then the other. Back at the first side. He checked a few more times before he sat next to Guldenstern."Well..." Rosencrantz started, but found himself unable to find any words to finish what he was going to say."Quite..." Guildenstern agreed - perhaps in implication - that the words to describe this discovery were difficult to find."I didn't even know they made double tailed coins." One learns something new every day, Rosencrantz seemed to casually say. As if this didn't ruin everything. "No..." Guildenstern agreed when he could speak again."I guess, though, when they make the double headed coins, they have to do something with the tails." Rosencrantz noted cheerfully.Guildenstern was angered, but only for a moment. "Don't be stupid..." he said with no emotion behind it, the words like a rock dropped into well with no splash. Guildenstern dejectedly stared down at the ground while Rosencrantz shuffled nervously, trying to think of something to say to raise his friend's spirits again."What are we sitting on?" Rosencrantz conversed. "It's not very comfortable." He looked. Rocks.Guildenstern studied his money bag, looking at it accusingly as if he suspected it were responsible."A person cannot live like this. There has to be some consistency, some stability." He closed the money bag angrily.Rosencrantz offered him the coin as if he thought Guildenstern might want to study it further. For science, perhaps. Guildenstern shook his head and Rosencrantz finally let the coin drop to the ground with a dull clink."I'd think knowing the result of every coin toss would be a form of..." Rosencrantz suddenly realized Guildenstern was staring at him coldly - as if daring him to finish his sentence. "A kind of consistency?" Guildenstern said coldly. "I suppose. But an illogical consistency. It makes no sense, therefore it isn't constant at all." He stood, and paced. Then he stopped and said, definitively as if creating an epigram "Consistency is only consistency if it fits into a system of logic and order, and when it falls out of it... it isn't." He sputtered off unable to think of a clever enough ending to his statement. "In other words..." he paused and considered, "in other words... Routine is what life is made up of, and when it disrupted in any manner it creates chaos, even IF that disruption creates a sort of consistency that didn't exist before." He nodded. He was satisfied. Rosencrantz watched him without moving. Guildenstern turned his attention to him. "Ready?""You hate change?" Rosencrantz didn't move."I don't hate change, I don't think I said that... did I?"Guildenstern would reluctantly acknowledge that Rosencrantz had saved him from the depths of the bog more than once; though, he would temper that by noting Rosencrantz came with his own aggravations:They were in the tragedian's practice room. Rosencrantz was clapping slowly for the players as Guildenstern still stood, shaking, on the verge of... some very big emotion that he didn't want to let cross the threshold of his mind."Thank you, thank you..." the Player King and tragedians bowed a bit - not formally but lightly as if they were greeting a peer. "Now, I think its time you two leave us to practice... We want to leave some surprises, don't we?" And with that Rosencrantz and Guildenstern found themselves facing a closed door."Well..." said Rosencrantz, "What do you want to do, now?""Anything."They wandered around at random. It was strange to see the castle so empty. Even seeing a servant would have been someone - but good servants are invisible (and Elsinore only had the best servants). The usual court retinue was disbanded - everyone who knew anything about what was going on at court found reasons to be away. It was as if they were the only two people in the world. After meandering at random, they settled into a room with a fireplace that was going well enough and had some reasonably comfortable furniture.There they sat. Guildenstern pulled out his pipe and had a smoke. Rosencrantz didn't have any hobbies of this sort and quicky became bored - waving his hand to the side, as if he were trying to grab something, or smack an insect, but hitting nothing.Guildenstern tried to ignore him, determinedly smoking his pipe as if trying to block him with smoke. In the end, he had to ask."What are you doing?""I'm trying to find out what one hand clapping sounds like."Guildenstern considered this."Oh."He then went back to ignoring his friend, or more accurately, avoiding him, going so far as to turn away to look at the opposite wall."Aren't you curious as to why?"Rosencrantz clearly wanted to be asked why."No." If Rosencrantz was disappointed by Guildenstern's studied lack of interest, it was only for a moment. He continued with his experiment without further conversation until he accidentally hit Guildenstern in the head. "If I ask why, will you stop?""Maybe..." Guildenstern gave him a deadly look. "Yes.""Why are you... what are you doing again?""Trying to learn the sound of one hand clapping.""Why are you trying to learn the sound of one hand clapping?""I don't remember...." Rosencrantz grinned with embarrassment as Guildenstern twitched a bit. "You should have asked when I first mentioned it."Guildenstern went back to looking at the opposite wall smoking his pipe as if he were unconcerned."You sure are in a gloomy mood." Rosencrantz walked around to look at the wall with him."Half a clap." Guildenstern said suddenly."What?""The sound of one hand clapping is half a clap.""Ooohhhh... " Rosencrantz thought about it. "No, I don't think so."Guildenstern stood and walked around the room."The question itself is unreasonable. If it was, 'You know the sound of two hands clapping, what is the sound of one hand?' that at least would be clever, one hand can't clap."
Rosencrantz considered this."I suppose you're right... It does seem like something you should be able to do, though. Like licking your elbow.""What?""ELBOW. You can't lick your elbow.""Why would you want to lick your elbow?""I didn't say I wanted to, its just if I needed to for whatever reason I couldn't." He experimentally twists his arm. "You see? It seems like something you should be able to do... but you just can't do it." He tries "It always seems like, if I just tried hard enough I could... but no.""Well, that's good to know. Now shut up and quit being absurd."On some level, Guildenstern wanted to sink into the bog. It was dark and unpleasant but it was also what he knew best.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
awake The first time Rosencrantz remembered - or at least the first time he remembered remembering, he awoke in blackness. He might have remembered longer if he wasn't alarmed by the unexpected loss of his sight. What is this? What's going on? Have I gone blind overnight? Then he remembered his eyes were covered - a flip of a sleep mask later and eyesight returned. Not that there was much to see. The early morning sun had only just begun peeking through the shutters. It was barely light enough for Rosencrantz to see his counterpart (his name slips through my fingers like water) sleeping at the desk, his arms splayed at an awkward, almost unnatural position. Rosencrantz's neck hurt - not in the way it would if you slept wrong, but in a deeper way as if he'd slurped down an entire bowl of too hot soup. He coughed a little testingly but that only made the outer part of his neck hurt.Rosencrantz had a strange feeling. He couldn't find the words for it at first.
Someone is coming.
It was strong enough for him to try to get his friend's attention."Rosencrantz..." This got no reaction. "Guildenstern..." This got a sleepy groan, so he tried it again. "Guildenstern!""What?" Guildenstern murmured into the desk."A messenger is coming.""You're dreaming. Go back to sleep.""I can tell the difference between being asleep and awake!" Rosencrantz started, but he was interrupted by a knock on the shutters."Rosencrantz! Guildenstern!" the voice called.At this, Guildenstern sat up."That was a coincidence." He looked confusedly at the quill in his hand, twisting his head back and forth."Or you heard him riding up." He irritably threw the quill and a piece of paper that had stuck to his cheek onto the desk, before leaning back a bit to stretch. Rosencrantz did the same. The pain in his neck was beginning to fade to a dull ache - like when you have been ill and seem to constantly feel something is running down the back of your throat."Does your neck hurt, too?" It was easy to see why it would - Guildenstern had been sleeping at an odd position."No, my chest hurts... but, now that you mention, it my neck does feel a bit stiff."His voice had a tone that seemed to suggest that his neck wouldn't feel stiff if Rosencrantz hadn't mentioned it. Some would see this as unnecessarily curmudgeonly of Guildenstern, but he'd been like that as long as Rosencrantz could remember. Admittedly, this wasn't very long. Some of the ink from the paper Guildenstern had slept on had transferred to his face, leaving a series of question marks on his cheek. "You have ink on your..." and, at the same time, he said, "I think I slept on my..." and they both trailed off, laughing a bit."You have ink on your face." Rosencrantz explained."Will you get it for me?" It was too light for it to be worth lighting a candle but still dark enough Guildenstern wouldn't be able to take care of it himself with a mirror.There was a pitcher of water sitting on the nightstand with a small rag that would work well for such purposes. The ink was wetter than one would have expected, and smeared everywhere. By the time Rosencrantz was done, inky water had lightly stained his fingers and smeared Guildenstern's entire left cheek with black drops landing on the desk, the floor and anything in between those areas.Guildenstern grabbed some blotter out of the drawer and did a secondary clean up that was much more effective, though he still was a touch smudgy."I suppose I should have just let it dry on its own. It would have probably left less of a mess." Rosencrantz confessed sheepishly."I think you might have gotten the worst of it," Guildenstern seemed amused, "I don't think the stain on the tip your nose or these finger shaped spots on your forehead are going away anytime soon." He started blotting up the drips. "I wonder why the ink was still wet?" he mused, turning over the piece of scrap paper he'd been using as a pillow. "I wasn't..." is what he started to say - its unclear how he planned to finish because he never did."Is that your writing?" Rosencrantz asked looking over his friends shoulder, and Guildenstern admitted it was.Written on the paper was:Messenger ----> Heads?????
Travel ----> meet Tragedians -play?
Incident at play -----> King interrupts
If there was anything more, it was gone. The paper was torn here. "What is this?" He wondered, alarmed. "Do you remember me writing this?"Rosencrantz shook his head no."Do you know why I would write this?"Rosencrantz shook his head again and Guildenstern was unsettled."It looks like a list of some sort." Rosencrantz suggested helpfully. Guildenstern looked like he had something to say about that but the messenger began aggressively banging at the shutters againRosencrantz had that feeling again. It was like how, in a dream, sometimes you knew you could fly or breathe underwater and then you can. Rosencrantz knew that if he looked at the right spot on the ground, he'd see a heads up coin. And soon, he did. He disembarked from his horse, and picked the coin up. "I bet you, every time I flip this coin, it will be heads."Guildenstern raised an eyebrow."Oh?" he seemed amused at the idea. "Let's see."
flip
"Heads."He cheerfully tossed Rosencrantz a coin that was pocketed.
flip
"Heads."Guildenstern tossed another, amused.
flip
"Heads.""How about you let me see that coin of yours?" He seemed less amused now."It's not a double headed coin.... see?" Rosencrantz showed it to Guildenstern, who gave it a couple of test tosses.
flip
Heads.
flip
Heads.He threw it back to Rosencrantz."Heads."Guildenstern tossed another to pay the bet, and when Rosencrantz started to pocket it Guildenstern stopped him."Open your hand. All or nothing."Rosencrantz agreed, feeling sure of what he'd see."Heads."
flip
Guildenstern took the coin in mid-air and threw it onto the ground as if it offended him personally. He pulled out another from his own purse, checking it carefully before preparing to flip."Would you like to have heads this time?" Rosencrantz offered, feeling a bit bad seeing as he had the advantage.Guildenstern shook his head."My turn will come, yet." Then he added, "If this turns out to be some sort of magic trick, I will be upset with you."They watched the tragedian's whole show from beginning to end. Guildenstern watched with his brow furrowed with concentration, as if he were trying to decode a message. The play seemed pretty standard stuff. Rosencrantz found it entertaining enough, though he did giggle at the reference to unsullied Rosalinda, until she died. Then he felt a little bad for laughing until he remembered that she was an actor who would get up eventually.They applauded politely and continued on their way - only to realize that the tragedians were following. It was unnerving. There was some discussion about whether they could fight the tragedians if necessary but eventually the players went deeper into a wooded area where the paths diverged. It wasn't until then that Rosencrantz realized..."That was on the list.""Was the significance of that lost on you?""What significance?""There was no way for that meeting to be planned. No way for us to know we would be meeting tragedians.""The King didn't interrupt the performance, though." Rosencrantz noted "There's that.""Yes, that was a relief." Guildenstern acknowledged. "But the rest of the note seems to have some significance to things that have happened today. Why?""Sometimes I feel like I remember things that haven't happened yet." Rosencrantz spoke quickly as if the words were under great pressure."Everyone experiences that. Don't be stupid." Guildenstern replied irritably, but this seemed to trigger a thought. "Do you remember what happened yesterday?""What?""Do you remember yesterday?"It seemed like this was a strange question, but now that it had been mentioned, Rosencrantz realized he didn't. "I... what's is wrong with you?" Something about the question itself irritated Rosencrantz, as if a particularly sensitive wound were being poked at."Doesn't that strike you as odd? To remember things like that... is normal. Isn't it? At least as normal as having a coin come up tails, occasionally. Why focus on the flip of a coin, when I don't even remember my own age, my first name, or what happened yesterday? There had to be a yesterday. That's logical. I wasn't just born today. I know I existed before now - didn't I?" "Now, this is why we never watch the tragedians' play. You always get so odd when you get these ideas in your head."Guildenstern turned to Rosencrantz sharply."How old are you?""I imagine about as old as you are." Rosencrantz felt clever for a moment but was quickly deflated by Guildenstern's follow-up question."And, how old is that?""I don't remember..." Rosencrantz looked his friend over. "But if I were to guess I'd say somewhere between 16 and 30." "Are you sure you want to be that specific? After all that doesn't leave you much leeway to be wrong." The sarcasm dripped from his words. "Thirty seems too old. We were in school... weren't we?" He looked at Rosencrantz who shrugged his shoulders. "Sixteen... Well, I don't feel sixteen. But that doesn't mean anything, I suppose..." They rode in silence for a minute before Guildenstern started again. "Do you know where we woke up this morning?""At home, of course." Rosencrantz knew this one."But I've never seen that place before this morning. I knew it was mine. I see the desk as belonging to me, I knew what was in the drawers. I could grab that blotter and offhand I remember that everything else in that drawer (several broken quills, a dried up inkpot, an unopened inkpot) was what I expected. But I've never seen it before." He stopped. Not physically, the horse kept walking... but he stopped. How he managed to give the impression of pacing and stopping while riding a horse, Rosencrantz couldn't figure out. "I've never seen any of it before. This horse seems somewhat familiar... but is it mine? Did we buy it for the journey? Was it brought for us? Why don't we know these things?" He breathed - in and out. A coda. "A philosopher and his student were transported far away from home and all of their knowledge was taken from them as a punishment for... some transgression against God. What it was is unimportant.""That should be the most important part of the story." Rosencrantz interrupted. Guildenstern tried to quell this line with a look but this seemed like an important point and Rosencrantz was not going to back down.. "In fact, I'd very much like to know what it was. After all, I wouldn't want to be punished like that..."Guildenstern sucked his lips into a thin line for a second."They... " he waved his hands as if he were going to grab the answer out of the air. "stole his favorite dog.""That's horrible," Rosencrantz gasped."Don't worry about it, that isn't what is important.""That still seems out of proportion to the crime."Guildenstern sighed so heavily, one half expected his horse to buckle under the weight."They also..." he paused, "told mortals some divine secrets."That made more sense and Rosencrantz said so."May I continue?" Guildenstern asked impatiently."Please." "Are you sure? You don't want me to tell you the secrets or describe the dog?""Could you?" Rosencrantz asked eagerly."No." Rosencrantz allowed he had no more questions. "They realized that they had lost all of their knowledge." He waited a moment as if waiting to be interrupted but Rosencrantz waved impatiently for him to finish. "After some consulting between themselves they realized that they did remember one thing: the alphabet. They repeated the alphabet over and over until all of their knowledge was returned."Guildenstern was quite pleased with himself."What if they didn't remember remembering?" Rosencrantz wondered, "This story seems to have all sorts of holes in it.""Well, they did. Otherwise they couldn't have done anything about it.""Why do they remember forgetting? If they didn't remember... wouldn't that be a worse punishment? To not even remember forgetting?"Guildenstern sucked his lips in again."Why do I even bother? You always miss the point.""What is the point?" Rosencrantz was trying his best."The point is.." Guildenstern stopped, and pulled himself together and took a deep rhythmic breath, "The point is..." He stopped again, and sighed. "Do you remember the alphabet?""No. Do you?""No." He avoided his friend's gaze.Rosencrantz felt like there was something he should say. He couldn't think of anything. "It's the normal thing," Guildenstern continued quietly, "most people seem to remember yesterday. Their age. To be robbed of a past... Must be unspeakable...because with no past, what does the future mean?"Rosencrantz wanted to cheer him up, so the moment he saw it, he stopped. A coin. He swung off the horse and excitedly pointed it out to his friend - it was tails up. "Look! This is lucky, its tails..."But a second after he scooped it up he realized his mistake."Oh... its a double tailed coin. I didn't even realize they made double tailed coins.""They had to do something with the tails after making a double headed coin." Guildenstern said dully. "The leftovers of counterfeiters. How typical."Rosencrantz wasn't very interested in the play the tragedians were putting on. It wasn't the same show they saw in the woods - in fact this one was much better in performance and design. But it seemed so familiar - as if it were a story he'd heard so many times it had come to be part of his world. He found himself mouthing along with sections, as if it were a familiar song. Must not have been a very original plot. Rosencrantz didn't want to get bored enough to do something stupid, so he looked around at the audience. Did he really know these people? He didn't remember them. He had once heard somewhere that if you wanted to know about a person, you look at their hands.The King had big hands, with fingers covered in large rich looking rings. His skin was rather dark and had that paper-thin look that the skin of older people got. There was a grasping quality to them, Everything he did, from the way he grasped the arm of his chair to the way he held the hand of the Queen was like he was saying, "This is mine." Which is a good quality in a king, but instead of power it somehow exuded a kind of neediness, like a child grabbing a toy and screaming "MINE!" The queen had white delicate hands, with fine delicate rings. Her hands looked soft... she probably used lotions and such on them a lot to keep them that way. She caressed her kings hands lovingly. She loves him. It's so nice to see people who are in love be married. She was still young enough for her skin to avoid that paper quality the kings hands had, but the skin still had a thinness to it that could easily turn into paper. Her hands had the quality of someone who had a soft life, who always had someone to love her to take care of her. The girl who the prince didn't love (even though he was sitting at her feet) had small hands. They were white, but there was a toughness to the skin that the queen didn't have. Maybe it was from sewing or needlework or something... She probably didn't have the money and leisure to spend her time covering them with lotion. Not yet, anyway. She was fiddling with her fingers nervously, but at the same time she seemed to be fighting to keep them still in her lap. No noticeable rings, which seems appropriate for an unmarried girl her age... The prince's hands never seemed to be still. He was gesturing, propping himself up, moving at all times. He wasn't wearing much in the way of rings and decoration, any other details were impossible to see from where he was.Next to Rosencrantz, Guildenstern's attention was focused. One hand was propped under his chin, the other lay on his lap as if forgotten. Rosencrantz tentatively pulled the forgotten hand towards him to examine more closely. Guildenstern either wasn't paying attention or was purposely ignoring his friend. Guildenstern had thin hands, his white fingers still stained with black marks from writing. No rings, which actually seems a bit odd, but maybe not. Rosencrantz touched his hand. Soft, but naturally so. Not that weird smooth softness that comes from applying lotion again and again. Skimming fingers along his hand hit some calluses. Writing calluses. He must be a student... or maybe he just writes a lot. His fingernails were neat and clean, but while the necessary care had been taken he didn't seem to do more than was necessary. A few of the edges were chipped as if he picked at them absently at times. The very tips of his fingers seemed dry. Guildenstern sitting with a book absently licking his fingertips to turn the pages, complaining about how the paper made his fingers dry. Only an impression, floating in the recesses of Rosencrantz's mind with no context, no before or after. Just existing. In a moment the other hand entered Rosencrantz's field of vision, and untangled their fingers. Rosencrantz had forgotten himself. He looked guiltily up at his friend. Things like this irritated Guildenstern. But he only threw Rosencrantz an odd look before pulling his own hand back towards himself. Rosencrantz then started looking at his own hands. They were clean (somehow he'd gotten the ink off of them), and it looked like he'd never had to do hard work... I must be well off Rosencrantz decided. Or at least well off enough. It looked like he had time to spend on his hands, and he spent a lot of that time making sure to take care of himself. Perhaps I'm rather vain? It's hard to say. He didn't examine himself in every mirror he saw - and there are plenty of excellent mirrors at Elsinore. The skin on his hand pulled back easily, soft... Rosencrantz had a feeling he liked hand lotion... the ritual of putting it on, the texture... or maybe that was Guildenstern. It's hard to remember.Rosencrantz spread out his fingers to see the familiar little dimples. His hands seemed fat and stubby, and he found himself longing for the elegance of those around him. No visible scarring, palms not calloused. Yes, definitely fairly well off. Probably had a pretty easy life, free from worry. That's good to know.Rosencrantz decided he was missing the most important part... because what you do with your hands when no one's looking is just as important as how they look. He tried to distract himself... but somehow he always knew when he was looking. He tried to remember what his hands were doing when he wasn't paying attention before but he couldn't.Guildenstern gave Rosencrantz a sharp poke and it was then it came to Rosencrantz's attention that they were the only ones left in the hall."Where did everyone go? It wasn't that bad... Well, it was... but its rude to run out like that."Guildenstern shook his head a bit. "What are you doing?"This was Rosencrantz's chance. He could impress his friend with intelligence, cleverness and wit.Rosencrantz did what came instinctively. He made a hand puppet and raised his voice a few octaves to have it say:"Two scholars were arguing about a flag. One said, 'The flag is moving." The other said, 'The wind is moving.' A philosopher happened to be passing and said 'Can't you two think of anything better to argue about?'"Guildenstern put his hand over the puppet as if the fingers were a mouth that needed to be silenced."There must have been a moment when we met... I almost remember it... I tried to get rid of you subtly and it didn't work. You see, most people, when you try to get rid of them subtly, either get it and slink off or blatantly ignore you. But you did neither. You took what I said at face value. And when I finally just asked you to go away, you did.""What happened?" Rosencrantz remembered nothing of this."I assume I felt bad and re-started the conversation. Or maybe not.... Maybe it never happened... maybe its just something that should have." He let go of my hand. "As far as anyone knows, there wasn't a yesterday. Maybe the world was created today, and someone just forgot to give us memories of a past."Rosencrantz held up his hand again and said in the hand puppet voice, "Don't be sad... be happy."Guildenstern didn't say anything, but put his head between his hands, before lifting it again."The king interrupted the play." he sighed, "we must be entering the endgame."Rosencrantz felt like there was something he should say, but he didn't know what. Then, everything started again.This was not on the list. Maybe it was the part that was torn off. Rosencrantz remembered remembering - but didn't remember what he remembered until it is too late.The water slapped lazily against the sides of the boat. It was a comforting sound, simple. Repetitive. Guildenstern hates traveling. Rosencrantz didn't mind it. But, Guildenstern reminded his friend that he never minded anything. That's your problem he said. You don't mind enough. Or you don't have enough of a mind. Guildenstern wasn't certain which.Guildenstern smiled. He laughed. He was playing with his friend. He felt good enough to be playful. He had forgotten about the list. He had forgotten about the letter they still have to deliver. Or at least he wasn't thinking about it. Rosencrantz tried to not think about it too. There was plenty of time to change their minds. Plenty of time to think it over.It doesn't have to be discussed right now. Just relax, enjoy the sea. Enjoy the temporary stability of indecision, Guildenstern would say. We can worry about implications later.Rosencrantz hadn't said anything about it. Guildenstern felt guilty. Rosencrantz tried to forget about it.When Guildenstern re-read the letter, Rosencrantz had tried to stop him. Rosencrantz knew what the letter was going to say. But Guildenstern wouldn't listen. He'd listen next time. And, for a moment, Rosencrantz remembered everything - though he didn't understand it. Rosencrantz wished to remember long enough to tell Guildenstern about it. But it always seemed to pour through his fingers like blood out of an open wound.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Guildenstern was sure that today wasn't ordinary. Not that he remembered any specific day he would consider ordinary, but he understood the concept in the abstract.For example: Most days he didn't wake up at a desk. He was sure about this. Most days he woke up in his (reasonably) comfortable bed with his pillow being a proper pillow and not a piece of blotting paper that sticks to your face. He couldn't think of any specific morning like this, but he was sure that morning existed. And, usually, Guildenstern didn't wake up to find that his fingers still had wet ink on them.Guildenstern turned to Rosencrantz to check if this was a particularly strange joke. Dipping his fingers in wet ink wasn't quite along the lines of the old warm water trick, but Guildenstern wouldn't put it past Rosencrantz to start a prank and then forget to finish it. Rosencrantz appeared to be firmly asleep, his long limbs swaddled into the blankets like a baby swaddled into a puzzle knot. There was no way he'd woken up, put ink on Guildenstern's fingers and then returned to that position. Even the fact that Rosencrantz was asleep seemed wrong somehow. But a fellow could sleep. It occurred to Guildenstern that he could wake Rosencrantz up but he couldn't think of a reason why. For company? To acknowledge the oddness of this? To ask him if he smells the sea as well?Faced with these endless choices, Guildenstern started with first things first: wiping himself clean with blotting paper and water from the bedside stand. He cracked his neck, rolling it first one way and then the other with a pop and then gargled - there was some sort of odd coppery taste in his mouth. He didn't wake up with a crick in his neck most days - Guildenstern felt like he could say that much with confidence.Something was off that grabbed Guildenstern's attention. Something about the way the light.. no... there was no light... the... darkness? fell was wrong. Guildenstern soon found the culprit. The shutters were open slightly - unlocked and open just enough to let a skinny mouse in. Which made no sense. Guildenstern would have closed the shutters tightly and with a quick internal tutting as he did. This was a particular pet peeve of his. He habitually checked to make sure doors - particularly cabinets and shutters - were closed regularly. It was bad luck to leave things partially open - transitional areas need to be closed firmly or, as in the case of one particular stubborn cabinet, left wide open. Things could happen in the liminal space left in the in-between. The shutters were directly in front of the desk - he would have noticed. Guildenstern could imagine himself, in his mind, checking the shutters regularly for this express reason. No, he would have checked them a half dozen times over the course of a normal night. Guildenstern quickly surveyed the room. Nothing else seemed obviously out of place - it seemed unlikely someone would break in only to put fresh ink on a sleeping man's fingertips but odder things have happened. They were at University.Rosencrantz finally awoke, giving Guildenstern someone to share these thoughts with. Rosencrantz sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes before holding up his finger as if to say 'wait a moment'; then, he opened his mouth and pulled out a crumpled ball of paper. He experimentally smacked his lips before saying, as if this were all commonplace "A messenger is coming.""Where? What?" Guildenstern was more shaken by this display than he wanted to admit.There was a knocking at the shutters - not just a couple of polite taps and then a polite request - but a knocking that didn't cease or change in pattern,"There you go." Rosencrantz hauled himself out of bed, delicately setting the ball of paper on the endtable. "Always doubting me....""How did you know that?" Guildenstern reconsidered what he had just witnessed. "How did you do that?""I don't know..." Rosencrantz didn't seems surprised at the paper that he had dislodged from his mouth so much as puzzled. "Do you want me to try to do it again?"*knock knock knock* The shutters rattled with the unending tapping - the man must do this for a living, a bill collector on the side, perhaps? - as Guildenstern carefully unrolled the moist ball of paper."Look at this..." Guildenstern pointed to the writing. "This is my writing.""Looks familiar.""Does it? Did you see me write it?" Guildenstern said hopefully *knock knock knock knock* Guildenstern had limits. He was about to open the shutters and tell the man what for. Its still early and its rude to keep knocking without at least an attempt to state your business. Is he to open his doors to every Sven, Nicholas and Holger who knocks on his door?"No... Did you write it?""I'm not sure.""It looks like your writing?""Do you know my writing?""It seems like I should."The crumpled up paper read:Messenger ----> get up Travel ----> meet Tragedians King and Queen ----> help Hamlet Hamlet -----> ????? Incident at play -----> King interruptsThe knocking intensified for a moment and then stopped."Rosencrantz! Guildenstern?"The shutters broke open with the force of these words and the room filled with cold. The voice filled everything - becoming the only thing that existed. For a moment there was a strong rush of air into the room, before as if the room were breathing - and with an exhale the air then exited. In a flash, the sound seemed to change position - if Guildenstern were to try to describe it, he'd say it was as if the room had suddenly spun around him. The shutters were no longer in front of him. For a brief moment he thought, "At least that makes sense." because if the shutters were on the other side, he might have missed closing them - but the shutters were fully closed again. The voice was different, the knock polite and deferential but the request the same.
*knock knock*
"Rosencrantz? Guildenstern!"Guildenstern looked at the paper again. The paper was crisp and dry. This time it read:Glean what afflicts him. Draw on to a play. Play goes badly. To England. A letter that saysThe ink was still wet. "Do you feel that?" Guildenstern grabbed a corner of the desk as the floor seemed to sway under him."Feel what?"Did you see that?""See what?" "If nothing else you have to see that the note said something different....""Did it?""Why would I write this?" Guildenstern continued, "Why would the ink still be fresh? How could I have written this moments ago and forgotten all about it? Why would I have even put it in your mouth?""It seems like I would have done that for storage purposes." Rosencrantz noted helpfully.Guildenstern didn't follow up on this line. However, on the plus side, Rosencrantz acknowledged that it was a completely different paper and the words appeared to be different. The only thing he could remember the papers had in common were the handwriting and a mention of a play."That was a good trick, do it again.""I didn't do it." Guildenstern said irritably. "Do you remember what the first paper said?" Rosencrantz, naturally, had no idea. Guildenstern couldn't remember either except for the question marks. They seemed to dot his brain - as if he saw them out of the corner of his eye but when he turned they disappeared.Did they have plans today? Is that what the messenger is here for? Why does the room look both familiar and different? It was different. Previously he had been in a cheap room in Wittenburg they were letting from a widow who was a floating dress and cap that took their gilders and occasionally commented on what good boys they were in a tone that seemed both disappointed and grateful. That room was dark, but clean with a window that faced west so Guildenstern could, theoretically work later in the day. In reality this didn't work as they lived in the city. Guildenstern refused to acknowledge this.There wasn't a knocking now - the messenger seemed to believe he'd done his duty merely stuffing the gilded letters into the shutter's slats.This new room was something else. The floorboards swayed under him. The desk was bolted down away from the window shutters. But he knew this room as well. He know they were on a houseboat he owned in Amsterdam - Wittenburg was years ago. These things were both true. But they couldn't both be true.Rosencrantz remained fairly calm about the whole thing; however, Guildenstern found it disturbing to not know the basics of his own life. Guildenstern wondered what the message was at Wittenburg - curiosity that was soon assuaged by another shift to Wittenburg with a taste like almonds. In both places, it was a summons to visit the new King. They would see Hamlet there. They hadn't even seen Hamlet at the funeral, he and Rosencrantz were packed away with the the rest of the crowd. Outside, Rosencrantz was disappointed by the bitter cold."I expected it to be nice."The sky was pitch black."Why would you expect that?"Rosencrantz didn't know.They traveled onward. The town was an empty shell- even for the early morning. No life. Nothing. It was as if the world was hollow. Guildenstern smelled a burning smell and they were hiking on the road outside Amsterdam. No matter where we go, we'll end up where we're supposed to be. This thought dotted Guildenstern's mind, and when it came up it was soothing in a way... no getting lost here. But why? Why? Why? "Cold isn't it?" Rosencrantz said conversationally. Guildenstern nodded. "Do you remember us being students at Wittenberg?""No." Rosencrantz responded cheerfully.A brisk breeze blew the taste of apples into him, and they were students riding their horses from Germany again."Do you remember us living in a houseboat in Amsterdam?""No." Rosencrantz responded cheerfully."Well," Guildenstern decided, "that is one type of consistency. You'll think I'm quite unwell if I tell you what I've been thinking.""I won't." his friend swore earnestly. "You don't think I'm unwell for doing things like stuffing messages in my mouth.""Do you feel it?" "Feel what?""Something odd in the air. A type of energy. The way it always feels before a lightning storm."Rosencrantz looked up."It's not raining, yet.""The anticipation. The coldness. Rain is rain, but 'It's going to rain.' is something else entirely. It's a vibration that rings to your core. A kind of blueness that gives the world a different look. There's even a smell that seems to match it. When the actual rain comes, its an anti-climax."Rosencrantz is sitting, examining his hands. That has to be wrong. Guildenstern was sure his friend was on a horse only a moment ago. "Do my fingers look stubby to you?""Are you even listening to me?" Guildenstern wanted this to stop. Whatever it was that made it happen where at one moment he's riding a horse from Wittenburg and the next hiking from Amsterdam needed to stop. He needed to figure out the pattern. If he could find the pattern it would at least be bearable.Rosencrantz looked thoughtful."The thing I don't like about the rain is the puddles. And the getting wet. Pretty much makes travel impossible. You could get sick and catch your death."Lightning snapped through the sky, with the thunder clapping a moment later. The rain fell and Guildenstern tried to find a way to compare the downpour to Niobe's Tears but every time he started water got in his mouth and turned his words into gurgles. Through the rain came figures - in the lightning flash of one world they had weary horses, in the thunder clap of the other only their own feet - but they were always shuffling through with a wagon. Rosencrantz and Guildenstern were always unsure as to whether to run or not. It seemed unsafe to stay, but at the same time they didn't have any other transportation (could have sworn we had horses in one of these places, Guildenstern thought).But then it wasn't raining. But it was still dark. And now they had horses. It would be less strange if it were more strange. But, finally, things settled for a moment when the man at the lead finally spoke."Tragedians, at your command..."And then they were gone."Should we have stayed to see their play?" Rosencrantz asked."Did we have a choice?" Neither of them could remember. "You seemed awfully interested in what they were offering..." Guildenstern noted."You're the one who offered them money after you figured it out." Rosencrantz retorted. "I was curious.""I was making conversation." Guildenstern was abashed. Look down... are we traveling or standing still? Traveling... presumably, but sometimes definitely not. What's wrong with me? "I felt this strange urge to... impress him. Like he was someone important.""Oh... I thought I was following your lead.""You thought I was interested?""Were you?""Not the slightest. Were you?""I was... curious. And following your lead, of course."Guildenstern wondered if Rosencrantz realized what he was saying. Doubtful, or else he wouldn't be saying it."You are a piece of work."Rosencrantz was a rare beast. Watching him walk, he seemed to almost careen along. As if, instead of moving his limbs, he were merely flinging them out in front of him in the hopes that eventually the motion would move him forward. When he reached his destination, he seemed as surprised as anyone, clinging on to the nearest object as if gravity might suddenly stop and suck him up into the sky."Lucky that coin kept coming up heads." Rosencrantz observed.Guildenstern had forgotten about the coin. It was a thought that popped up and disappeared as quickly as it came up. "Yes, lucky..."Guildenstern looked down, rubbing his temples and closing his eyes. There was a smell of fresh wool in the air. When he looked up again they were both in court dress, speaking to the King.Dealing with everything was a nightmare. People would be one place, then another. Rooms would suddenly switch sides. They'd be inside then they'd be outside. It would be dark then light. They were paper dolls being redressed and re-positioned by children that couldn't make up their minds. Guildenstern hears sparrows. Elsinore is a grand airy palace. Guildenstern hears a hawk cry. Elsinore is a damp dark castle. A sensation of silk - the Prince is a younger man barely outside of a boy. The tangy smell of leather - the Prince is far older - a grown man too protected from the world to manage it. Both courts appeared to be equally true and false.It was enough to make anyone tense, but Rosencrantz didn't seem to notice it. Once the Prince had left their presence, Guildenstern decided to try again."Have you noticed that the Prince seems to vary in appearance a great deal?""Yes, I suppose its one of the symptoms of his affliction.""The rest of the castle seems to change with him.""Well," Rosencrantz observed, "he is the Prince.""A theory." Guildenstern noted, "Our Crown Prince and his country are of one mind. When the Prince is unsettled, the country unsettles with him." "Its possible.""But you have seen it.""Oh, yes." "You aren't only saying this to make me feel better?""Oh, no.""Then why do you not react?""I didn't want to cause a fuss. Perhaps its the normal way and we usually don't notice.""A fresh theory - either the normal has become noticeable in a way that makes it abnormal or the abnormal has become so sustained that it has become a new normal."Rosencrantz put his hand out to soothe his friend, "May I?" Guildenstern nodded. Rosencrantz rubbed Guildenstern's back almost absently."Both areas," Rosencrantz began, "have their good parts and bad parts. I find myself missing the airiness of the Light Palace when in the dreary Dank Castle, but a few giggling courtiers would soon have me missing the way its just us in the Dank Castle. The King and Queen and Hamlet are always the same even when they looked different and the things they said were often the same. I... understand each world as I stand in it and the other becomes the very shadow of a dream. I thought maybe I was falling asleep. No one else seemed affected so maybe it was normal. After all one only has a vague sense of what is normal."Guildenstern could see Rosencrantz walking in an exaggeratedly sneaky way through the half-open curtain. He thinks he's sneaking up on me. Probably thinks he'll give me a little scare. Probably thinks it will create a little release of the tension in the air. All will have a good laugh. Guildenstern closed the curtains firmly (another liminal space) fully prepared for Rosencrantz to open them up to "surprise" him."Boo!" Guildenstern gave both scream and jump. The sound was in a completely different place from the curtains used to be... The scarer wasn't Rosencrantz at all - it was the lead tragedian."You're fairly tightly wound, aren't you?" The tragedian laughed heartily.They had switched around within the moment and changed positions. Guildenstern tried to not tremble as he left.Pull together your dignity. Walk away with your head high. Rosencrantz followed. The tragedians were all laughing and snickering as Rosencrantz and Guildenstern left. "Did you see that?""He did give you a proper scare." Rosencrantz laughed heartily."But he... but you... Oh, never mind."There was nothing to say for a while, until they entered a quiet dark room that had a chessboard in front of a roaring fire that a whiff of lavender turned into a chessboard in front of a light and airy window in a room where musicians played and other courtiers played cards and spoke quietly."Do you want to play a game of chess?"Never thought he'd ask. The pieces changed from heavy painted lead pieces to thin and airy figures made with bone and ebony but the board itself remained the same.Rosencrantz and Guildenstern had their own rules for chess. Mind you, the basic moves are the same, but unless you come up with a relevant and interesting commentary on the action you could lose your pieces. Rosencrantz flips a coin for first move. Heads. Something seemed disquieting about that, but Guildenstern couldn't put his finger on what.Rosencrantz set up his white pieces while Guildenstern set up his black."A pawn wanders out to test the mettle of the opposing army. (F2-F4)" Rosencrantz began."A knight rises to the challenge, leaping over the heads of the pawns of his own army to show how much more powerful he is than a simple pawn. (B8-C6)" Guildenstern might have moved the piece with a little twitch, as if to suggest a horse kicking up its heels."The pawn is suitably intimidated. However, a knight pulls out to prove that we have our own warriors (G1-F3)." Rosencrantz set down his own slender carved piece down with a firm finality."I retreat." Guildenstern returned his knight to the fold."Retreat, you can't retreat!" "Make another move... I didn't say I quit." Guildenstern reassured him."My knight is very upset by your retreat and moves forward sulkily. (F3-E5)" "You shouldn't let your emotions run your game. My pawn steps out to stretch his legs. (C7-C6)." Guildenstern places his pawn, whistling nonchalantly."You should watch where you're going, my knight easily kills your pawn in hand to hand combat. (E5-C6)." Rosencrantz triumphantly claimed Guildenstern's piece."You need to use your knight more wisely. My knight quickly runs by and cuts off your knights head while he's celebrating his victory over a pawn (B8-C6)."Guildenstern claimed his own victory. Rosencrantz studied the board."Another pawn goes to join the first one, because the other army is too sneaky for us. (G2-G4)." Rosencrantz sulked."I shouldn't accept that." Guildenstern noted."That's as good as anything. If you won't accept that, then I'm going to call you on that retreat a few moves back." "My knight returns to his post. (C6-B8)" Guildenstern sheepishly replaced his knight."And you were getting on me for a weak move." Rosencrantz snorted."Are you going to complain or are you going to play?" Guildenstern retorted."My bishop steps out for some fresh air. (F1-G2)" "My knight jumps out to keep an eye on him (G8-F6)." Guildenstern is careful to point his knight at the bishop in question."My bishop see the opportunity to grab a pawn and takes him, converting him to Islam and then killing him for heresy. (G2-B7)" Rosencrantz said with a sudden triumph. Guildenstern sighed with frustration. "You just wish you had thought of that first." Rosencrantz noted with pride."My knight goes and kills the pawn because it had been making nasty comments about his wife. (F16-G4)" Guildenstern needed to get a bit of his own back at this point."My bishop kills and attempts to subtly take the place of your bishop. (B7-C8)" Rosencrantz was on a roll."I'll give you that one." Guildenstern allowed."Thank you.""For lack of anything better to do, my pawn goes out to talk to your pawn (E7-E5)." Guildenstern hopped his fresh pawn over."My pawn challenges your pawn to a game of questions." This was when the fun really began."Would the loser be captured?" Guildenstern asked suspense-fully"Or killed." Rosencrantz finished."Statement, One-luv." "Did you think that was a statement?" Rosencrantz challenged."Wasn't it?" "How do you always do that?" Rosencrantz groused."Do what?" Guildenstern responded as innocently as could be."Don't you know?""Who doesn't know?""Know what?""That's what I wanted to know...""Statement. One-all." Rosencrantz cheered.This probably could have continued all day. They had played games that lasted weeks, months, years, lifetimes... This particular game was postponed for the moment, for the Prince. Everything always had to stop for the Prince. Even the changes stopped when the Prince was present.It would seem to reason, they would want the Prince around for that reason if no other. But somehow, even without slipping between two different lifetimes - things seemed more chaotic, not less, when the Prince entered the room. Nothing felt right. Everything was off. What is going on? They closed the Letter that announced the coming execution of the crown Prince.Rosencrantz's eyes seemed impossibly large as the full implication occurred to him. He opened his mouth."No." Guildenstern said. "Telling Hamlet would be interfering with things we have no business interfering in.""Do you think the Letter is the same in the other place?"It was difficult to say. As far as Guildenstern could tell the Prince was the only significant difference at this point. Otherwise, it seemed that a boat was a boat was a boat."It's best we forget having read it. It wasn't our place to read it to begin with." Guildenstern continued as if Rosencrantz hadn't spoken.Rosencrantz didn't speak for a long time, looking down at the floorboards. When Rosencrantz looked up at Guildenstern again, he spoke."If you died and you could only keep one memory, what would it be?""Why? You're not dead.""I didn't say I was, it just crossed my mind. I heard it somewhere.... that when you died, you were allowed to keep one memory. And I always wondered... if you were allowed to keep one memory when you died, if it would be a memory like a normal memory. Or more something you lived. So if you were good you lived your best memory, your favorite. Then the bad would be your worst memory. Over and over and over and over..." Guildenstern was rattled. Control yourself, he's babbling. Rosencrantz continued, "What would yours be?""I'm not discussing this... its stupid. There's nothing after death... What would yours be?""Probably the same as yours.... What if you had no memories worth keeping? Then, perhaps it would just be your last memory. And what if someone else picked the same as you? Would you both be stuck together? Forever?""I'm not talking about death." Guildenstern stated firmly."You're right. It's not worth thinking about... After all it does sound unlikely... Living one memory... losing everything else... because that would be ridiculous... I mean, they say that two people can't even agree on the most basic events of a dinner party. What would happen if two people had to share a memory? It would be chaos. They'd have completely different views of everything and it would get all jumbled.""Are you done?""I suppose it would be very rare for two people to end up with the same memory. And of course, as you said, it wouldn't happen.""You're assuming something completely ridiculous. Even if there were something after death, why would it be that?""Only making conversation." Rosencrantz said with artificial airiness."I want no more discussions on death. Even if we were dead, which we aren't, and even if we were living the same day over and over, which we aren't, even if those things were true, they couldn't be because if we were just experiencing a memory we wouldn't be able to discuss it, now would we?""I didn't say we were." Rosencrantz retorted."Well, at least there's still some life left in you." Impulsively, Guildenstern leaned over and gave him a kiss. So soft. Rosencrantz didn't resist. In fact, he trembled as their lips touched. Guildenstern found pulling away difficult. Guildenstern turned away while he still could, quickly walking up to the deck where they would be around others. Rosencrantz followed, with a look of dawning intelligence, as if he were trying to understand something. Then he grabbed Guildenstern by the sides of his face, and kissed him. Guildenstern could feel it down to his toes. It was like being on fire. Well, without all of the pain, and the fire. But the burning, the heat... that was there.Guildenstern pushed Rosencrantz away.Rosencrantz was immediately apologetic."I'm sorry... I was just... following your lead."There it was again. Wish he'd stop, it makes it so much more difficult. "We're both in a stressful situation. We don't want to make any hasty decisions we'll regret later."
Not like this.
"Oh... of course...."
Not in a moment of fear and desperation.
" If we act on this impulse now, it would ruin everything."
A better time will come.
"yes...""If... later... we feel the same way, maybe then... we could discuss it.""If you say so..." Rosencrantz's voice became very quiet and small.Put a hand on his back. Be the nursemaid."It's not a big deal. Nothing we can't live with. It could be worse." Rosencrantz didn't say anything. "Go to sleep. Everything will seem clearer in the morning."Rosencrantz went right to bed and settled down. He seemed to be sleeping... but Guildenstern stayed up for a long time.Always the decisions. Always having to be the decision maker. It's too much. But Rosencrantz's judgment isn't to be trusted - he's too impulsive, too emotional. Why, he would have told Hamlet about the letter out of only a misguided sense of loyalty.In the morning nothing was clearer. They had nothing to say to each other. The Letter was different again. Guildenstern felt like he should have known. But, how could he have known? If he'd thought of it at all, he'd have assumed the letter would turn back into a benign message from one King to another - some variation of "take care of my crazy nephew-son". The tragedians were loosely banded around them in a circle. There was something menacing about it. For reasons that wouldn't coalesce into words, Guildenstern felt cornered. In that moment, somehow it fit. Guildenstern saw the men who played the spies in the tragedian's odd play. To take the paper over to them, and toss it to them was the work of a moment."I think there is a message for you." Guildenstern said quietly.They let it drop to the floorboards. They seemed strangely blank and Guildenstern wildly wondered if he could pick them up and move them into position like pawns on a chessboard. The lead tragedian crossed over, picked up the paper between two fingers and offered it back to him."No, its for you. Are you getting it, yet?"It was too much. Guildenstern grabbed Rosencrantz and ran as fast as he could, down endless stairways that seemed to go nowhere, to a room that was and wasn't their room. A room that looked strangely familiar, down to the desk. Guildenstern took a chair, put it under the doorknob as if that would stop it. His eyes went to the shutters - they were half-open.Guildenstern went to close them when it occurred to him Rosencrantz had been unusually complacent and easy to maneuver, like a life sized doll."We can figure this out." Guildenstern spoke too loudly so he could hear himself over the thrumming in his ears. Then more firmly, quietly. "I'm going to figure things out."Rosencrantz was strangely still and swaying oddly. It took Guildenstern a moment to realize what he was seeing.
no. no. no. no. no. no. no. no.
Grab him, kiss him... but it was too late. Too late... Fall... there's stuff...everywhere... dripping... Fall into the chair funny, could have sworn I moved it Something is a blur in the corner of Guildenstern's eye.can't bring myself to look don't want to remember that, don't want to remember... Guildenstern couldn't breathe. Now there was blood everywhere... He must have missed by a bit... had to pick the harder way.. but there was no more rope...don't want to think of that don't want to remember Guildenstern collapsed onto the desk... everything was slipping away again into the peaceful nothing..."You've reached your destination..." He didn't recognize the voice, but it was familiar and strange - warm and cold."What are you playing at?" A second voice intruded.There was some shuffling. Then there was knocking... the infernal knocking... "Rosencrantz... Guildenstern..."And then there was the blessed nothingness... but it only lasted a little while... and there was always a next time.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
The next time there was no note. But a seed had been planted. The next time he came to awareness, Rosencrantz realized he didn't remember a time before Guildenstern."Do you think I ever existed without you?""Of course you did." Guildenstern said dismissively. "You've been without me plenty of times."The idea that he had existed without Guildenstern seemed implausible. He tried to think of a way to explain to Guildenstern that sometimes it seemed like there was a hole in the world and he could see a dozen versions of the same moment - Guildenstern saying the same thing in different tones, and with different mouths. But every time he tried, he couldn't think of a way to say it that Guildenstern wouldn't dismiss. The past mostly seemed an abstract concept. Occasionally he'd see a moment in time - always a moment with Guildenstern.
An image of Guildenstern sitting at a table with a strangely clear mirror reading and looking up at him with irritation.
"Are you interrupting me again?"
But that was wrong somehow, too. As if he were far away, looking at his own life through the wrong side of a looking glass on a stage.The trip to Elsinore seemed particularly endless on the day that Rosencrantz decided to make up a past for himself.He immediately determined that there was no specific moment he and Guildenstern met. No moment where they shook hands and introduced themselves - only a time in which they became friends.Guildenstern was selected to be educated alongside the Prince at Christiansborg Castle in Copenhagen. His friend would have written him - long letters that he obviously had spent a great deal of time on. Rosencrantz would have always written back.Face to face they at times seemed to be having two different conversations. Much like his conversation, sometimes Guildenstern's letters would be dense and difficult to read, but, much like that conversation, Rosencrantz would have skimmed over the parts he didn't really understand. Guildenstern would write about what he'd been reading and learning - alternating between philosophizing and worrying because even though Guildenstern had a mind for memorization, Hamlet was clever. Rosencrantz wrote about local happenings, stories about his family, who is getting married to who and odds and ends of that sort.Rosencrantz was only momentarily distracted from this line of thought by the presence of royalty. Shortly after they had left the king and queen, Rosencrantz impulsively asked,"Do I have any brothers or sisters?" "Where?" Guildenstern looked around. "Here?""No, I mean... back home."Rosencrantz tried to not talk about back home, too much. Something about it upset them both, if they lingered on the subject too long."I don't know." Guildenstern responded irritably. Then after looking at Rosencrantz a long moment, he changed his answer. "Yes.""Which?""Which what?""Do I have brothers or sisters?""Both." Guildenstern seemed to be attempting to finish this line of thought."What are their names?" Rosencrantz knew this was pushing it but Guildenstern took it better than he expected."There were too many of them, I couldn't keep track."Guildenstern said it instinctively enough, Rosencrantz decided it must be true. They had figured that much out - the instinctive things, the names they want to call each other when they don't think - those seemed to be the truest things.He tried to pull up images of these siblings, but he came up only with faceless blurs in masculine and feminine dress - two older ones that were presumably his parents and many other ones of various sizes that would be his brothers and sisters.He tried to imagine it. He had to have had mealtimes with them. Taken their hand-me-downs. He tried to imagine seeing his sisters sewing with his mother like little ducklings lined up in a row and for some reason in his mind his mother was the Queen and his sisters various Ophelias - not multiple of the same Ophelia, but many different girls that his mind all labelled as "Ophelia". His brothers didn't even come into that much focus - they were mainly jackets and mugs of mead and giants hands that patted him on the head.He tried to explain this all to Guildenstern, but what seemed so clear in his mind sounded like nonsense out of it and they ended up fighting until Rosencrantz walked away in hurt.Rosencrantz concluded that he probably didn't lack faceless friends who were interchangeable backslaps and goblets of wine . Friends who hardly noticed if he didn't show up one day when he said he would, or if they left him behind because he was distracted. He had lots of friends, but the only person he felt close to was Guildenstern, even though he was miles away.Rosencrantz wanted to express this to his friend now. It seemed important somehow - that Guildenstern know that he felt closer to him than anyone else - but, instead it came out as a plea."Don't leave me!"The tragedians play was incredibly predictable, especially so when Rosencrantz could see a dozen versions of it (some versions had a cart full of props, others mimed - Alfred varied greatly in his feminine believability). Instead of being distracted by the hole in the universe in front of him showing him endless variations on a familiar scene, Rosencrantz daydreamed about the past. He tried to imagine the day he was allowed to begin to attend the Prince at court. With numerous brothers and sisters, Rosencrantz's own family was more likely to be glad to be rid of him than not.Going to court would have been the first time Rosencrantz had seen Guildenstern in... years? No, he would have gone to court occasionally for something, wouldn't he? His mind again went to the images of his siblings - the images always seemed older than him. Perhaps he wasn't old enough. Perhaps his arrival in court would have been the first time Rosencrantz noticed the height difference between himself and Guildenstern. He was reasonably sure he was taller than Guildenstern most of the time - except when he wasn't. It seemed plausible that would be the first thing they'd talk about - they hadn't seen each other in a while, right?"You've gotten shorter." Rosencrantz would have said. Because of course that's how it would have felt."Or," the Guildenstern of his mind observed, "perhaps the world has become smaller around you."They then spent the afternoon trying to decide if the world had gotten smaller around Rosencrantz - comparing both of their measurements to known items until they finally settled on the probability being that Rosencrantz had merely grown taller.The time without Guildenstern seemed unreal - hazy. But once he imagined Guildenstern things became more vivid. Guildenstern would have not changed much. He was older - even taller - but he also seemed tired. He got lost in his own thoughts and couldn't be pulled out again. Rosencrantz snapped back into the world where he watched a play with the King for a moment."Did you have any brothers or sisters?" Rosencrantz whispered to his friend during a particularly long monologue, Guildenstern frowned and shook his head."Do you remember your father?""What?""Your father, your da?""Do you remember yours?""I asked you first." It came out before he could stop himself and they had to stop before things went downhill spiraling into a verbal sparring.Mental Guildenstern had a complicated relationship with his father. Rosencrantz didn't see the man in his mind, but he could hear Guildenstern talking about him. The old man's accusations of immorality veered between accusations of whoring to sodomy depending on his mood. Rosencrantz, in Guildenstern's place, would have constantly tried to prove his goodness to such a man, but Guildenstern was of a nature to answer his father that he'd been out whoring after a long day at the library and take the whipping he would have gotten regardless. It wasn't until later, after they had left the King, that Guildenstern realized with amazement."I don't remember my father at all."They did not discuss this further.Laying in the endless dark of the ship pretending to sleep, Rosencrantz let his imagination run wild.In his mind he conjured up an image of Guildenstern in a dress with one of those frilly things around his neck."Why am I doing this?" Mental Guildenstern asked irritably.Rosencrantz had to stop his daydream for a minute to consider this. He had to come up with a reason."Because you love me?"Mental Guildenstern's eye twitched a bit."No."Rosencrantz had to stop it again. He had to come up with a better reason than that."Because you lost a bet with me?"Mental Guildenstern sighed - or tried to sigh. The tied up parts were stopping him. Rosencrantz was helping Guildenstern into an old dress that probably belonged to Guildenstern's mother. It was rather out of date, but there were still dowagers who took decades off their age who dress like this. If he had to wear a dress publicly as a lost bet, one would prefer to only have one reason to look foolish. They picked the occasion of a fancy dress party that was being held by.... someone in Guildenstern's family as the best one for fulfilling the bet. Embarrassment in front of his family would be painful, if discovered but well... if he was discovered they would at least keep it quiet. Hopefully.Guildenstern would've had to decide whether it was worse to go through the dishonor of going back on his bet, or dressing up like a woman publicly. In his fantasy, Rosencrantz never even gave him a chance to consider it."If didn't know you so well, I'd think you had an ulterior motive in this." Guildenstern sniffed. "What is this thing?" He held up a large triangle shaped piece of fabric with ties hanging off. "Did we forget something important?"After holding it up until it made sense somewhere and tying it in, Rosencrantz insisted he had no motive other than curiosity in the bet he made."I thought you'd be able to do it. It sounded reasonable. Who would have guessed that you can't lick your own elbow?"After some untying and retying, Rosencrantz stepped back and examined his work."How do I look?" Guildenstern asked nervously. He looked like an irritated Guildenstern wearing a dress. Rosencrantz, for his part, enjoyed the view, but knew that wasn't the effect his friend wanted."You'll be wearing a mask." Rosencrantz tried helpfully as Guildenstern adjusted the skirts. This version of Guildenstern had bright red curly hair that he spent every day painstakingly slicking down and hiding. This could work to his advantage in his costume, as most people wouldn't immediately associate the hair and him. After they put their masks, they began walking to the part of the castle that held the celebration."I can't breathe. I have too many layers on. The whole process is ridiculous. I don't see how someone could do this every single day." Guildenstern grumbled a long string of complaints to this effect as they wandered the endless halls."Stick with me, and if you start to get faint or your delicate little feet get tired, I'll escort you home, m'lady.""You keep doing that, and I'll show you delicate little feet."Rosencrantz grinned impishly."You should practice your female voice.""I intend to practice the feminine art of silence." Guildenstern stated firmly. This, at least stopped the endless rhythm of grumbling."We never really considered if you moved like a girl." Rosencrantz considered. "Let me see you walk a bit." He stopped and watched Guildenstern for a moment. "You're walking like you're angry and feel awkward." This didn't go over well as Guildenstern glared at him. "You should walk like you normally do, with that little swish."In the dark of the boat, Rosencrantz found himself blushing at the idea of not only admitting that sometimes he watched Guildenstern from behind, but implying that he might enjoy the view. But, in the moment, Guildenstern wouldn't have picked up on that."I don't swish." Guildenstern would insist."You do." Rosencrantz struggled to keep himself from seeming too amused."Show me.""I can't do it.""Try."Rosencrantz tried, and failed miserably, tripping over a section of rug that had been pushed back."I don't think you are one to talk about how people walk." Guildenstern noted smugly."Fine then, you show me."Guildenstern rode the this small victory into the headspace needed to walk perfectly - proving Rosencrantz's point but also giving the skirt the perfect sway.When the sounds of celebration reached them, Rosencrantz stopped suddenly."I have to admit... I did have an ulterior motive in getting you to do this."This got his friend's attention - an eyebrow might have been raised.Rosencrantz looked down and shuffled his feet."I didn't want to go by myself and I knew you wouldn't go unless I tricked you into it.""Couldn't you have just bet me going to the dance?""You wouldn't have come unless I made it complicated."Neither of them were masters of self awareness, but even Guildenstern had to admit that he wasn't wrong. The dance line were all Ophelias (all beautiful and none the same - with only wide innocent eyes in common) - Guildenstern's sharp eyes stood out to Rosencrantz. It was reassuring seeing his friend - almost but not quite touching him as they both followed the conventions of the steps they were expected to make.In the dark of the lower deck of the ship, sometimes Rosencrantz imagined what else could have happened. When Guildenstern's breathing was steady and heavy and the Prince was silent enough to be ignored, sometimes Rosencrantz imagined meeting Guildenstern back in a hidden cove and kissing him - telling him he was beautiful and lifting his skirt... The "why's" were never important in those moments where Rosencrantz took full advantage of the privacy of darkness. These private memories weren't "real" memories but he couldn't say why or how.In level-headed moments Rosencrantz tried to come up with more realistic endings to their evening. They probably lost track of each other and, at some point, Rosencrantz identified him from behind by his hair and playfully put his hands over the mask's eyeholes."Guess who?"The person in front of him responded by pulling him back into a hidden alcove where he was kissed and he kissed back instinctively. But since this was a daytime memory and not a nighttime one, this person wasn't Guildenstern at all. She wasn't an Ophelia... who was she?"Rosalind?" The name came out without conscious thought.She pulled up her mask."You're my brothers friend, aren't you? Oh... You aren't going to tell him? I thought you were my husband, I swear."Rosencrantz stammered an apology and a vague statement that he wasn't going to tell anyone. I thought Guildenstern didn't have any brothers or sisters? Rosencrantz thought as he stepped back into the party. Guildenstern was glaring at him - and Rosencrantz felt very exposed. Somehow, he knew. They left shortly after that. Rosencrantz silently walking Guildenstern back to his rooms where the mask coolly turned to Rosencrantz and told him he could go."You'll need me to help you out of those." "I don't." Guildenstern insisted.Rosencrantz remembered the endless mass of knots awaiting under the skirts and followed into the sitting area. Guildenstern walked into the dressing closet silently locking himself in. It wasn't long before he came out again."I need your help to get out of this." Guildenstern pointedly didn't look at him. Rosencrantz tried to not seem smug. "I would have used a knife to cut it off, but I can't see clearly enough."Rosencrantz tried to explain what had happened as he helped, but Guildenstern silenced him with a withering look. Guildenstern didn't say anything until Rosencrantz had undone the the main knot that held most of it together"I can get the rest myself.""Are you sure?""Does this look unsure to you?" He leveled Rosencrantz with an evil gaze. It didn't.Rosencrantz was not so easily put off - even though he left his friend to finish undressing, he still waited in the sitting room for Guildenstern to finish getting redressed. He had a feeling that he wasn't going to like what was coming next, but he was going to get this straightened out ASAP."Did you have fun cuckolding my brother-in-law?" Guildenstern's voice snapped him back to his presence."What? No... I mean I didn't... I mean I was only gone a few seconds." Rosencrantz said helplessly.Guildenstern didn't seem to be listening."I don't care what she does, she's only my sister by marriage, but you of all people...."Rosencrantz didn't say anything for a long moment before deciding on the truth."I thought she was you.""I don't believe that for a second." A second later, Guildenstern reconsidered. "Did you?"Rosencrantz nodded."And you didn't?"Rosencrantz shook his head vehemently."It was innocent?""Nothing happened..." Rosencrantz said truthfully. Rosencrantz didn't want to tell him anything more. He was still trying to understand it himself. What he would have been willing to let the person he thought was Guildenstern do. "She pulled off her mask. She thought I was your brother-in-law... it was a big stupid mistake."Guildenstern accepted this explanation. Rosencrantz would tell him the rest one day... once he figured out what it meant. Rosencrantz felt separated from his friend for the first time he remembered. It separated them on the boat as well. Rosencrantz wanted to talk to Guildenstern about his thoughts - ask him what they meant.Guildenstern was also the very last person he wanted to ask. Guildenstern tried to involve Rosencrantz in conversation, but all Rosencrantz wanted to talk to him about was their past. The games of chance they played and the ensuing debates over what constituted a fair win.Guildenstern didn't know how to handle this sudden out-of-character fit of nostalgia. If he were in better spirits or were clearer minded, he might have thought to suggest they engage in a few games of chance to distract Rosencrantz from these thoughts - but as it was, Guildenstern's attempts to make up a history to satisfy his friend quickly spiraled into frustration as Rosencrantz insisted on getting names and dates on a past they both found an endless fog of nothing.Occasionally Rosencrantz tried asking the Prince what he remembered about the past, but the Prince gave nonsense answers about his father being a glove-maker and his mother a feather quill.It wasn't until they realized Hamlet was going to die in England that Rosencrantz found himself thinking about University.When Guildenstern went to University, Rosencrantz supposed he did too. He decided it was a happy, if uneventful time. As uneventful as anything around Hamlet would be.Hamlet was at University. Rosencrantz felt like he could say that with some confidence, though he couldn't pull up anything more definite than seeing the back of the royal neck on occasion in his imagination.They both knew him from their childhood. At least, Hamlet remembered him and Guildenstern. Hamlet made a point of distinguishing them, even as his attention went more definitively to some scholar.Rosencrantz didn't remember growing up with Hamlet. How did Hamlet remember him from all of the other noble children?Rosencrantz considered this lack of memory a gift for purposes of delivering the Prince to his doom. He didn't really allow himself to think of the Prince as a person until he was gone. Once the Prince was truly safe (gone? was gone safe?), Rosencrantz tried to piece the Hamlet he knew back together in his mind.Hamlet liked them at University. Rosencrantz would swear to that. Perhaps they were refreshing change from the manipulative connivers that normally tried to insinuate their way into the Prince's life. Hamlet was constantly surrounded by people - laughing and joking. The fellows from school would hardly recognize the man who glowered around the halls of Elsinore. If there were to be a vote on which Dane would be Most Likely to Wear Black and Monologue around Elsinore - it would have been Guildenstern by a landslide.The only indication of the person he was on the way to England were the times he would become the Prince - who was a threatening person to be around. When he was the Prince, he revealed a darkness underneath. Only a flash, and then he would be Hamlet again. They really never thought of themselves as his close friends. They knew their place in the royal lives. They were only two more names he had to remember as part of his place in the world.Rosencrantz's mind rebelled at the idea of making too much of their times with Hamlet after they learned the contents of the second letter. Mostly it was the two of them. He wished he could remember, for real. Those must have been the days, the days Before. He could see himself in this moment - dozens of times. All of the Rosencrantzes walked towards each other until there was only one. That was the thing that was so frustrating, in the darkness. He could get so far... and then it was a brick wall. No, it was worse... it was stepping on a step - your foot touching nothing and falling with nothing to grab onto but the only other person there.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Guildenstern fought against the darkness by staring into the light. He stared at it with a boldness that belied how much the whole thing frightened him. The loss of memory. He wished he could remake every single memory and realize how precious they were - even the ones that contradicted each other. In the time he was alone in the light - a few moments? an eternity? he tried to remake his life from the beginning.Guildenstern decided his mother had died in childbirth. To be painstakingly accurate, she died a day or two after the birth but in the end the result was the same. Baby Guildenstern never had a single nurse, but a series of wet nurses. He remembered that, for some reason. Someone must have mentioned at some point. That's a normal thing to tell someone, isn't it? In hindsight, Guildenstern could acknowledge that, in his early years, he was indulged to the point of brattiness. It was only luck that he was a naturally studious child, whose inclination towards books was warmly encouraged.The Light was there then too - when he was alone, the Light was always there. It was candlelight, then. This seemed Important. It used to be candlelight.He didn't remember why he was alone with the Light then. Perhaps he was ill. Overly protected. Neglected. Falsely accused. It didn't matter, he was confined.This shouldn't have mattered in practical terms - Guildenstern already had swottish tendencies and seemed predestined to be the pale scholar. But this enforced solitude rankled. He became sullen and irritable.Whether Guildenstern was so beloved he was locked away like a treasure or whether he was left to rot like fruit on the ground was of little difference in practical effect. He suffered. He decided the solitude was best. What did he need with others? He could learn what he needed from books - the life of the mind.... that was the life for Guildenstern. He had the time and the desire and he read until words blurred in front of him and letters floated.The Wise don't seek Happiness - he had never read the words in that order, nor thought them, but this was something he understood instinctively in the Light.His father became distracted by a new wife - a new family. Guildenstern was sure that was why he was removed from the Light at last and delivered to suffer the indignities inherent in living with another family. "Plenty of room!" led to a cramped cot thrown into the room of their youngest son and an overheard "If we're lucky, they'll keep each other out of the way..."There must have been a moment when they first met. A moment when Rosencrantz came stumbling in, all arms and legs and fresh air and said "Hi."Maybe Rosencrantz asked him what he was doing. Expressed admiration of him for something. Expressed a similar loneliness that led to a bond. Or maybe it was as simple as Rosencrantz asking for assistance understanding something and Guildenstern explaining. He didn't remember any of this.He did remember in an abstract manner that the process of speaking to another person, even a person who didn't contribute a word except for the occasional off-topic comment or bizarre question, helped him realize things that he didn't before. Speaking out loud, and considering Rosencrantz's potential viewpoint and questions helped Guildenstern think of what he was reading in a way that he hadn't... couldn't... before.Rosencrantz never left his side... or maybe he never left Rosencrantz's. It was a tough call. They were together so often, that Guildenstern suspected that people just called out a name to see which of them answered."Of course," he surmised, "a person could just see us and call out the most common noble name they could think of and probably be right."That was a real bone of contention with Guildenstern. He felt like it was almost common, almost expected that they be friends. After all 1 out of 10 nobles were from either of their families. It seemed almost like a bad joke in the making.Maybe Rosencrantz was a mild irritant that slowed down his reading time, at first, but Guildenstern soon grew to love him, in his own way. Rosencrantz grew on Guildenstern - like a fungus - Guildenstern would think in his more ironic moments.There was travel - Guildenstern had definite memories of travelling with Rosencrantz. These memories were not always the most positive - mainly Guildenstern remembered the ways he was impatient with Rosencrantz's natural ebullience. Guildenstern would feel a pang in his heart when he remembered the way he'd try to get Rosencrantz to calm down. Often he was less than kind. The words "hyperactive child" were used to describe his friend more than once.Rosencrantz was never stifled. He was an everlasting flame of happiness, curiosity and energy.At first their snuggles at night were from a genuine desire for warmth - it went from innocent to something else so slowly that Guildenstern almost didn't catch it in time.
In time for what?
A Memory:Rosencrantz in a mirror - preening himself. Guildenstern behind, looking at his reflection. The mirror seems eerily clear - as if Rosencrantz were looking at him through a window (a window that separates them when the Light comes) and Guildenstern had to touch the physical Rosencrantz's shoulder to reassure himself that Rosencrantz was there and real.It was then Guildenstern realized he loved Rosencrantz. But he didn't think those words, exactly. He mainly remembered thinking "Oh, Guildenstern loves Rosencrantz." But he was Guildenstern. Wasn't he?Rosencrantz turned around and was real again.Guildenstern needed to hold on to this Real Rosencrantz. He couldn't explain these thoughts to himself, much less Rosencrantz, so he tried to keep his attention with some witty banter."Did you ever see yourself, in the mirror, and see yourself not as 'yourself' but rather as the entity that other people see?" Rosencrantz glanced at the mirror again, but didn't turn all the way."Once. I was walking by a mirror, I thought it was a window and developed a very strong opinion about myself and the type of person I was before I realized it was me.""What did you think about yourself?"Somehow knowing the answer to this question seemed momentous."That's the thing. I don't remember." Rosencrantz became Unreal again as he looked into the mirror and moved his hair just....so. "I forgot what I was thinking the moment I realized it was me. Sometimes I wonder if what I thought about myself was so earth-shattering that it would have destroyed me inside to know it."Rosencrantz said this quite casually, as if discussing the weather. Guildenstern was not satisfied."Lately, when I see myself in the mirror I see an average aristocrat that could be anyone in the street.""Isn't that what you want?" Rosencrantz asked innocently.Guildenstern looked assiduously at his shoes. He assumed Rosencrantz was looking at him, but he could be wrong.
The Wise don't seek Happiness
They were always in a place with little setting or character.
Even Wittenberg was only the concept of a large theater-like room.
Guildenstern knew that the memories of their time at Wittenberg should be happy and plenty, but only one comes to mind in the Light.
"What will we do when we're out of here?" Rosencrantz had been in one of his Fretful moods. One tended to remember him as Happy because that was his natural North (The Wise don't seek....) , but at times he would become Fretful and pace their small rooms nervously."Go to class. Grab a sausage based food of some sort from a street vendor?" He put a half affectionate half flirtatious arm around Rosencrantz, trying to distract him with affection. "Get a glass of wine?"Guildenstern knew exactly what he meant. They had not been discussing this - in fact, the most literal interpretation would have been the correct one in context. They had been about to leave. But Guildenstern knew what he meant - he knew the Fear."I mean... what do we do when we graduate? What is our daily life going to look like? What do our fathers do all day?"Guildenstern was at his best when Rosencrantz was Fretful."I imagine they pay their respects to the proper people and make sure those under them pay respects to them.""And by respects you mean...""Money... to some extent, mostly from their lessers - or perhaps their Lessors - I'm a little unclear on this aspect of things. The source of the money is still a bit mysterious to me - but it will be there. Respect would perhaps mean a more general attitude of servility to those above.""So, we'll spend our lives serving other people to make sure other people serve us."Guildenstern found this statement to be a bit too on the nose."Not a bit of it." He said instinctively before acknowledging "You could look at it that way." "That's a terrible way to live." Rosencrantz sighed.
The Wise don't seek Happiness
Sometimes for a moment, Guildenstern would remember everything. Rosencrantz always had a different face, but after the Light disappeared he'd see him again.
If Guildenstern were honest with himself, he would admit there were plenty of things he didn't want to remember. Plenty of things that he'd rather not think about, even now, in the darkness when it didn't matter anymore.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
For once, Rosencrantz awoke someplace different. You'd think that would be an improvement in and of itself - however it was not. Usually the place he awoke passed the usual tests for comfort that a man of his breeding would expect. A bed, for example. General dryness. Warm on a cool day, cool on a warm day. Not much but the basics for Home.This new awakening place had none of these benefits. It was cold and wet. Rather than a warm bed he lay on something that felt like a rock - on further examination it was revealed this was most likely because it was a rock or maybe a boulder or maybe stone was the proper term.Stone.An attempt to sit up turned the world topsy turvy and his head pounded as if something inside wanted out.Guildenstern was speaking as if he knew Rosencrantz was awake. Maybe he did know. Maybe he was always speaking. Perhaps he had only recently Awoken himself."You can't change anything. Even if you could, what would be the point? It would just be a shadow. A Nothing. No one but us would know. What would be the point of that?" Rosencrantz closed his eyes as if removing a sense would somehow add up to more sense which got Guildenstern's attention. "You are not going to sleep are you? You have a head injury, you cannot go to sleep." He hissed these last words in a half panic, then laughed at himself. "Not that it matters, if we are dead, but no use taking chances."Guildenstern fussed enough that Rosencrantz opened his eyes again to soothe his friend. Guildenstern was sitting on an overturned chamber pot. Rosencrantz hoped it was empty. He was about to tell Guildenstern that he had no intention of going to sleep, when he had a sneakier idea"I might be able to stay awake if you tell me what happened."Guildenstern moved to the floor as if he were doing it an honor. The room seemed to ripple and melt away - a new room appeared. It was grey and minimal and Guildenstern was part of and describing the scene.Guildenstern was sitting at the desk writing.This would be all well and good - an ordinary household scene except that as far as Guildenstern was aware, he had previously been asleep. His hand, normally obedient to Guildenstern's desires, now moved with a will of its own. It was his own handwriting - somehow that detail seemed to bother Guildenstern the most.If it had been someone else's writing - one could come up with supernatural explanations - theorize about the nature of reality. It had Potential. But your own hand writing in your own hand writing was more difficult to parse when one was not intending to write. It could make one feel Disturbed.They returned to the dark cold room for a moment."Do you get my meaning?" Guildenstern needed Rosencrantz to affirm that reality was real and not slipping through his fingers. Unfortunately Rosencrantz had quickly grasped the most important part of the narrative."What was the message?""The message...." Guildenstern tried to bring the grey room back. It was less real than the dungeon, but it had the comforts of a chair and a general lack of drafts. "Is not important." Then, importantly. "I did not need it. I Remembered."Rosencrantz's eyes widened at this news."Do you still remember?""No." Guildenstern admitted, deflating slightly.The room fell into the past again as Guildenstern grabbed the imaginary but real paper. Rosencrantz was both on the hard floor and on the bed. He was both asleep and awake. Both sitting up reading the message with wide eyes and asking "Please, tell me what it said?"All of them heard the knocking of the Messenger. The Knock seemed to distort the sky and the realities melted together more smoothly.It was one Rosencrantz who stood - opened the window, spread his legs, put his hands on his hips and stated with the Authority of the Hereditary Aristocracy:"We are not going ANYWHERE!"The Messenger seemed unmoved by this initial sally - without missing a beat the floating hat and cloak hit Rosencrantz on the head sending him into the Darkness. The floating clothing informed Guildenstern that if he didn't come along quietly he would get the same. Guildenstern believed he would have come along quietly with such inducements but it seemed that they were suddenly in the dungeon so he wasn't sure.They had returned to only the dungeon again. Now there were only the damp stone walls and floors - bars and drafty dampness."Do you remember now?" Guildenstern asked without much hope but less exasperation.Strangely enough, Rosencrantz did."Yes...Except she didn't hit me... the monkey did."Guildenstern raised an eyebrow."She? Monkey?""No, not a she-monkey... it's voice didn't sound like a girl's... though it did seem rather high...""I think you have a slightly different recollection of matters." Guildenstern noted wryly.As Rosencrantz began to tell his story, the world faded into a brightly colored version of the Room - as if it were painted. It was warm - not pleasantly warm, but swamp warm. Rosencrantz had been upset about something. He couldn't precisely remember what he was upset about - the note still a vague blurry concept. The Messenger was the the last straw. Rosencrantz had rights. He opened the window to tell the Messenger (who wore a heavy scarlet hood and rode a white horse - details the storyteller was quite proud to remember) a few hard truths about how he was not a thing to be ordered about... ordered by... who?Rosencrantz said his piece without interruption. The Messenger nodded and dramatically pulled back the dark hood to reveal a pair of large feminine multicolored eyes - eyes that made you feel all protective and manly.Rosencrantz's attitude changed immediately. She was not an Ophelia nor was she a Gertrude. But he felt she COULD be - if the moment was right. Time seemed to slow as her freshly exposed platinum blonde hair flowed out of her head covering - an absurd amount of hair to be helmeted so - it puddled endlessly at her feet. Rosencrantz remembered this specifically because he was fascinated by its fall. This was the First Distraction. She seemed to glow in the morning light - as if she were some sort of Goddess of the Dawn - not the hearty dawn that make sailors take warning but the wan dawn of a peaceful day.Aurora - they were in the dungeon again."Her name was Aurora." Rosencrantz snapped his fingers with the excitement of this new insight.Guildenstern was caught between bemusement and genuine concern."I think you might be remembering a dream you had - but its very entertaining. I find the hearty color a refreshing change. Where does the monkey come in?""Oh yes..."The act of pulling back her hood revealed that the Messenger had a monkey hidden in the scarlet recesses of her cloak. This was the Second Distraction."What is the monkey's name?" Guildenstern asked in both the room and the dungeon - with genuine interest but a bit of snarkiness for spice."I didn't ask you questions like that about your Messenger." Rosencrantz noted."I didn't claim to know it.""I'm not sure about the monkey." Rosencrantz paused. "Do you have any other questions, or may I continue?""Go ahead." Guildenstern was at his ease."Are you certain?""I feel very clear on the current order of events. The messenger was the fair Aurora of the Endless Hair chaperoned by her male monkey - who may or may not be an ancestor of humanity."They returned to lush greens of Aurora of the Endless Hair and her monkey. In contrast to his mistress the monkey was real in a way that Rosencrantz thought Guildenstern might describe as super-real. His eyes too intelligent and knowing - his fur matted and filthy. The stench lingered. In contrast - Aurora seemed ethereal as her hair flowed with the movement of a perfect minuet. She now brandished a sword that glinted erotically in the early morning light - her body barely covered by a thin chemise that showed her every curve as her body seemed to constantly twitch and tremor in some primal dance. It seemed feral, somehow, this dance. Rosencrantz felt as if he'd never seen a woman quite like this. She was not an Ophelia. She was not a Gertrude. She wasn't even an Alfred. What was she?These details got Guildenstern's attention in two different ways - in Aurora's world (for this was Her world, he didn't know how he knew this but he did) he was intrigued and perhaps even a little aroused - in the world of the Dungeon, his brow creased in worry."If you do not obey," her voice was the sound of wind blowing through leaves, "I will put you in the Dungeon."They returned to the Dungeon again."Now," Rosencrantz found himself becoming a bit shy. "Now my story gets a little odd...""Now it gets odd. " Guildenstern parroted back.In the colorful world, things had begun to escalate."Kill one and make the other suffer!" Monkey screeched in its shrill but clearly masculine tenor.Her pert mouth twitched sensuously before she bit her lower lip with desire."Which one?" she moaned."Stay or run?" Rosencrantz felt rooted to the spot."It doesn't matter!" screeched the monkey. "They are interchangeable.""We should run she seems dangerous." Guildenstern said out of the corner of his mouth, hoping somehow she wouldn't hear.She turned "Shut up, monkey!" and gave it a smack."Right." Rosencrantz started the spadework on his feet as he prepared to run.She then turned back to them and said"I'm willing at this point to let it go. We can continue from here, and it will be as if it never happened.""Unless that's what they want us to do." Guildenstern had only gotten one step forward when this occurred to him."Right." Rosencrantz looked at her. "No. We are not going anywhere."She considered this."I could kill Rosencrantz." She said thoughtfully to the monkey. "But when I do that Guildenstern always opts out. I could kill Guildenstern but then Rosencrantz always turns into a mess."The monkey started screaming "Hurt and Comfort! Hurt and Comfort!"She shushed it gently - as if it were a small child she was giving a special treat. A bratty child that was constantly sticky with sweets and demanded in a loud haughty voice.She turned to Guildenstern who had managed to avoid her direct attention thus far. When she looked at him, he felt she was speaking to both him in the colorful world and him in the dungeon."It doesn't have to be this way." Her voice cut through to the Dungeon where he heard it as clearly as if she were in the room with them. She spoke with an authority that amplified rather than belied the beautiful musicality of her voice. The winds were picking up and blew her hair around her artistically - every movement a painting of light and beauty."Make love to me." She demanded. She was no longer outside but in the room - so close to Guildenstern he could feel the weight of her breasts against his torso. He'd never considered what breasts might feel like before and having this information foisted upon him - their size and weight felt ominous. He could imagine her using them to smother him - he did not linger on this thought. Even though she was not a tall woman physically - somehow she seemed huge and he only a tiny doll.This was the Final Distraction."I don't like this." Both of the Guildensterns said for reasons that were both different and exactly the same. That was about the time Rosencrantz lost consciousness."And then I woke up here.""I don't want to talk about this anymore." Guildenstern started to pace the dungeon's length. It wasn't long before he was turning and then turning and then turning. "None of it matters. The messenger was a woman with a talking monkey. Fine. Well and Good. We are dead. Nothing can change that. It is pointless to try to change anything.""Wait..." Rosencrantz's head was spinning and only part of it involved the physical ache. "When did we figure this out?""It was on the note." Guildenstern stopped pacing and became distant. "I don't remember all the details but I do remember seeing the words Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead. Something - I assume some twitching humors of the dying mind - is trying to tell us that its time.""We're going to be here forever." A cry in the wilderness."We will cease to exist at some point in the future but for our intents and purposes I suppose so.""Shouldn't we try to be happy? Keep ourselves... distracted?" Rosencrantz found his eyes wandering to Guildenstern's jawline. There was something so appealing about that jaw - not its shape exactly, but its movement. Maybe it was that he liked to watch Guildenstern talk - but he liked it when Guildenstern became silent and meditative as well. He could be happy watching that jaw forever or until they disappeared into nothing - whichever came first.Guildenstern's mind was on the Plot still. His mind was always on the Plot because the plot was Orderly and he liked Orderly."Don't you see? None of it matters." Guildenstern began pacing again. "It's just a ridiculous and pointless exercise in what-ifs." His pacing became more and more agitated. "My suggestion is that we try to forget about all of it, and go on as if nothing happened." He had to stop. He had begun to pace in tight circles and made himself dizzy."That's your solution to everything." Rosencrantz didn't resent this. He knew this was how Guildenstern was. He felt sure, this wasn't even the first time they'd had this conversation. Maybe it wasn't even their first time in the Dungeon.They didn't say anything for a while.Then Guildenstern said, quietly, "What I don't understand is... if we are dead, and we are just living in a memory... Why can you get hurt? Why have some things changed? Is the Plot the same? Without us? If we're so unnecessary, then why put us in a dungeon for not coming? Maybe our whole theory is from a too limited fram... perhaps we are in the grips of un-, sub-, or supernatural forces." Guildenstern's jaw began to do that little clicking motion it did when he was anxious, "At least dead is something, if we can change things and get hurt then what are we? Where are we? What is going on?" Guildenstern reseated the chamberpot in defeat. "The idea of being dead was something of a comfort. What's the worst that could happen? Become deader? No, the worst has happened. Like eating a frog first thing in the morning, so nothing worse can happen all day. But if we are not dead, that would means we could still die."Rosencrantz was going to suggest that perhaps it was best they be out of things when he had a sudden spate of dizziness that made him dry heave a bit. When did he last eat? He couldn't remember. "Don't be sick in here if you can help it." Guildenstern was nervous. "I don't know how long its going to be till someone comes. If anyone comes.""I feel like I'm moving and rolling and I'm not moving at all."Guildenstern knelt next to his friend and touched the smooth forehead lightly."You're cold. Maybe you need to move around a bit."Rosencrantz didn't feel up to responding and allowed himself to be maneuvered onto his feet - next thing he knew he was in Guildenstern's arms, like a dream. He could smell Guildenstern's smell (old books and ink and something else... something that seemed uniquely Guildenstern)."That," Guildenstern noted "was a terrible idea."Any idea that ended with Rosencrantz in Guildenstern's warm arms, with an excellent view of his favorite jaw and that smell surrounding him like a siren's call was a good idea in Rosencrantz's book, but the worried brow on his friend made Rosencrantz keep those thoughts to himself.Rosencrantz tried to ask what happened but the words didn't come out right. Word didn't seem to work right anymore - his head felt orange, the cell was spicy, the ground was loud..."Stay still, and I will see if I can get anyone's attention."Rosencrantz panicked at the thought of being left alone and grabbed onto Guildenstern so desperately that his friend didn't have the heart to peel him off again."Cold isn't it?" Guildenstern noted quietly. "There might be guards out there." If Guildenstern was worried about things like this, Rosencrantz would normally think, then things aren't that bad. "They might see us like this and then what would they think?" But Guildenstern seemed to be being more teasing than anything. In other words, he was very worried - but not about the guards.Rosencrantz could only cling more tightly. He wanted to do something else but even doing this much seemed to take all of the power of his concentration. He focused on Guildenstern's heartbeat. He still had a heartbeat. That seemed important but Rosencrantz couldn't remember why and the words didn't seem to come out right."Now, we need to think. Or I need to think." He tried to adjust Rosencrantz's position to one less intimate than Rosencrantz reclining in his lap head on chest. The injured man clung like ivy to a tree trunk and it was given up as a bad business. For a long moment - a second, a minute, an eternity - there was only the two of them and their dual breathing.There is a sound that dungeons make regardless of the presence of other human beings. The endless scurry of rats. A rumble that seemed to echo back and forth forever - the sound of inhuman silence echoing until it became deafening. Then it started a beat - like drums. The rumble because more musical - familiar.Guildenstern paid attention."It can't be."He gently deposited a now unresistant Rosencrantz against a nearby wall. It was."Halt." The Player King's voice floated in from outside with the clamor of the other Tragedians turning into a dull roar. "A pair of criminals!" He noted this cheerily - without judgement. "I apologize for intruding, I assumed these dungeons were unused." "We're not criminals." Guildenstern brought his face to the small window in the door and tried to look as innocent as possible."Oh?" said the leader of the Tragedians with interest. "what non-criminal thing did you do to be treated so?"Guildenstern demurred. For the first time it seemed - Guildenstern really looked at the Player King. There was something familiar about him. He was not a Player King that Guildenstern had seen before; he seemed like someone Guildenstern should be frightened of - though he couldn't say why. The man was slight - with the delicate features of the effete. He did not seem an active danger. "I do not see how that's relevant." Guildenstern said airily. "Very well," the Player King said. "Onwards, we will find another rehearsal space.""Wait!" Guildenstern shouted. The Player King grinned - his eyes flashed... his beautiful multicolored eyes and suddenly Guildenstern knew who he was. He was the Messenger. The Player King began the feral dance of Aurora and he removed his crown to reveal colorless hair that cascaded endlessly. Guildenstern closed his eyes no that was Rosencrantz's story - it wasn't real - when Guildenstern opened them, the Player King was himself again. If he was a he.Guildenstern steadied himself. Real was real. He didn't remember Rosencrantz's version of events therefore it wasn't real. That was the way things always were - the same way they usually only stayed in one reality. He had to keep a grip on something."We refused a royal summons." The memory of the weight of her breasts and the vague fear he felt...."Really? That's quite interesting." The Player King noted brightly, before loftily adding. "But none of our concern. Onward." The footsteps roared."We have money." Guildenstern more hoped he had money, but to his relief his purse had the expected coinage. The Player King was unpredictable in his many forms - but he always heard the sound of coins clinking. The sound of footsteps stopped with a suddenness that belied the usual echo of the dungeon."How much are you willing to pay for what you want?" The Player King hissed into the barred window with such a sudden intensity that Guildenstern stepped back a few paces, accidentally encouraging Rosencrantz to try to inject himself.Rosencrantz considered himself quite the barterer under normal circumstances. Guildenstern officially considered such concerns beneath him, but normally was appreciative when his friend began to do the verbal work of sawing down prices. Rosencrantz had not been following the events that occurred exactly, but, even in his injured state, could not resist the urge to try to strike a deal."I'll flip you for it." The coin was still in the air - the choice of Heads still hissing out of Rosencrantz's lips, when they were in Aurora's brightly colored world again.The tragedians were gone - in their place was Aurora - her endless hair filling the hall outside their cell, falling in piles upon piles - dancing her twitchy dance with her strangely real monkey."He said HEADS." screeched the monkey jumping from its master's shoulder to press its face against the barred window of the door for a moment before disappearing. They smelled it inside the cell before they saw it. It certainly had a noticeable odor from a distance, but when it entered the cell through some unknown means the odor became sharper, like good cheese. The sound of scurrying warned them if the smell did not. Guildenstern had never acted faster - the moment he saw the monkey flying towards Rosencrantz he threw the chamberpot at it. Rosencrantz was the first to recognize the end destination of the chamberpot and only had a moment to shout "No!" at it and nonverbally hope that the bell end would be the part that hits him. He got his wish when the chamberpot struck him on the temple with a clong. The newly swelling injured eye matched the other injury perfectly - giving him a strangely sickly look as he fell to the ground, senseless.The colors lost their vibrancy. The tragedians were outside the door again with their feminine but masculine leader. Rosencrantz was still crumpled in a pile with a set of swollen eyes."What do you want?" Guildenstern begged - not asking for a number.The Player King peered through the window at them as if he were comparing the weight between two bags. Guildenstern used this opportunity to observe the Player King (Queen?) more closely. When examined with discrimination, It was clear he was indeed a she - and that she was the creature Rosencrantz called Aurora. But this one was dirtier than the colorful vision, less obviously female. The one description that sprung to mind about Aurora was "curves in the right places" - the Player King was merely thick and lumpy. Though Guildenstern felt quite certain that the Player King was female - the face had thin facial hair that appeared quite sincere. Beauty was the word one thought of when one saw Aurora - the Player King could not have played a beautiful maiden without provoking laughter.Guildenstern, in his mind, tried to imagine what Rosencrantz would say about this new wrinkle. "We didn't know for a long time." Mental Rosencrantz opined. "Perhaps he doesn't know either."Somehow, Guildenstern didn't believe this."Well, let me see... these locks can be tricky... Ah, there we go." The door opened smoothly. Before Guildenstern could thank him, the tragedian noted. "Not even locked."This was the First Distraction.Guildenstern lost his composure."Not locked?""Maybe it was just from my side? You did try the door, didn't you?" Guildenstern, in fact, had not tried the door. But the look of mockery on the Player King's face was enough to stop his throat as the man continued. "You don't look like dangerous criminals. I suspect they wanted to teach you a lesson, maybe give you a little scare.""Not locked?""Yes, you two are certainly lucky.""Lucky."Guildenstern felt as if he were a rag doll being tossed around by a child."Is there a parrot around here?" The head of the tragedians rubbed his scant mustache. "Lucky we came along. John here happens to be a barber."The Player King absently waved at the group vaguely."I'm not a barber." said a tall thick man with a bald head."No, the other John." The leader motioned generally at no one in particular."Oh, sorry." Original John scratched his head.Alfred (still dressed as a boy, oddly enough) nudged a stringy fellow who had been rather preoccupied with a substance he had pulled out of his ear."Hey... John.""Oh, were you talking to me? I thought you were talking to the other John."Guildenstern's jaw clicked with irritation."Are you attempting to be funny?""Showing how easy names are to mix up." The Tragedian bowed ironically - then again, sincerely.John (the barber) came forward, his brow furrowed with thought. He looked at Rosencrantz from one end to the other. Rosencrantz passively allowed the exam even as the stranger placed his hand on the still man's chest. Held his wrist."I'd say don't move him, and if he wakes up again, don't let him go to sleep." The thin dirty man then cleared his throat and held out his hand."You expect to be paid for that." Guildenstern felt the indignity of the matter more strongly than the financial loss. "He has to be moved - we can't stay here." John the barber straightened to his full impressive height - he was several heads taller than Guildenstern. Considering this, and the number of tragedians versus the number of Guildensterns, it was judged best to give him a few coins from Rosencrantz's bag. The Player King snatched the coins - examining them carefully before answering."You could leave." "I can't leave him here."A horrible thought came to Guildenstern's mind. What if he could leave Rosencrantz here?"Why not? You could go get help."It would be so easy. No one would blame him for going off for help. The door wasn't locked - they were put in there by a madwoman who didn't even have the ability to lock the dungeon door.This was the Second Distraction.That made it easier to think about. To think of her as a madwoman rather than to acknowledge how mad the situation was. Her wild hair and manner of dress suggested madness. No, the Player King might be many things, but he wasn't Mad."I wouldn't know who to go to. What to say." Guildenstern wanted to be left alone. He wanted this endless interrogation with the Player King to end. He wanted to be out of the spotlight of those strange eyes that seemed to see everything and nothing at all"How does anyone know anything?" The Player King then gave him a look. Guildenstern felt hypnotized those eyes - those bottomless eyes and out of the corner of his vision Guildenstern would have sworn he saw a monkey that became a tall thin dirty man when he looked more closely.This was the Final Distraction."You know something, don't you?" Guildenstern's brain felt like it was going through a soupy fog. He couldn't remember what it was about the Player King that made him suspicious - but that feeling of unease continued. "I know plenty of things. I know the points on a compass and the direction of the wind. I know that the bad end unhappily and the good unluckily. It is my job to bring order to chaos.""You've been failing so far." Guildenstern noted sharply.The Player King smiled an odd smile, then posed majestically."Once, there was a gentleman who had a lady he loved more than life itself.""We don't have time for this." Guildenstern snapped irritably starting to stand. If he'd thought matters through he wouldn't have bothered to go that far - there was no where to go. As it is, he didn't get far enough to think of that before the tragedians all hovered around him in a way that made him sit again."Are you ready now?" The Player King was all servile politeness."If you insist." Guildenstern accepted his fate irritably."Once, there was a gentleman who had a lady he loved more than life itself.""An original concept..." The gentleman in the room grumbled.The Player King gave him a dirty look and then regained the majestic pose.He glanced at the tragedians who were at the ready to act out the tale he wanted to tell."She was beneath him in many ways..." The tragedian dressed as the king lewdly stuck out his tongue and Alfred (suddenly in his dress - but he hadn't been in his dress, Guildenstern felt so sure) leaned back and lifted his skirts - avariciously moving towards her love crotch first. "But he loved her HONORABLY." Pointedly, to the tragedians, who switched to Innocent Maiden and Noble Gentleman so quickly that one wondered if the previous scene had been in one's mind. "Too honorably - even for a gentleman." The Noble Gentleman became a Holy Gentleman - one could almost see the halo forming around his fine head. "He married her, but only to preserve her." Alfred let out a little giggle and was silenced. "He loved her as a statue on display rather than as a wife. Oh, but he loved her so. He wrote endless poetry about her maidenly virtues, her chaste beauty, her sweet innocence of the world. They lived together as if brother and sister, yet he was a man. Over time his platonic love became less and less idealized." The Holy Gentleman developed a devilish glint in his eyes. "Having no outlet for his feelings...." Another tragedian had already begun dressing in red to symbolize her status as a fallen woman. The Player King shook his head and said as an aside for their sake "He honored and loved her too much to defile their marriage with an affair.""What did he do then?" Guildenstern interrupted. "Finish your story and have off with you, if you can't or won't help us." Guildenstern was sure that he meant something other than what he was saying - he could feel something odd under the surface. That feeling you get when you are certain there is someone hiding just outside your window. Guildenstern felt a humming in the air.The Player King smiled with a grim pleasure."He became sharp and curt with her," The Devilish Gentleman grabbed the Innocent Maiden - miming yelling. Letting her go and miming cool sarcasm. "Even grabbed her in anger." The Devilish Gentleman grabbed the Innocent Maiden and threw her down. He walked away without looking behind him.X"He thought he was a good husband, a husband any woman would be glad to have." He paused dramatically."Is that all?" Guildenstern tried to stay unruffled but the humming was filling his ears, his head. It was too close to be one of the tragedians - too loud to be ignored. Couldn't they hear it?"Of course its not all." The Player King seemed to become something else for a moment before he got back in character. "He prided himself in how absolutely perfectly encased she was. Still a girl at heart - the exact same woman he married, until, of course, one day she came in complaining about her dress being too tight."Alfred appeared with a pillow under his skirt and looked at his Audience with significance as he posed with this new padding.There was an expectant silence."Great story." Guildenstern noted dryly. "I will make sure and note that not consummating a marriage will make the bride fat.""It is not the fat," The Player King noted with equal dryness, "But the thing that lives under it."Guildenstern waited patiently for further explanation."Oh, for God's sakes. She's pregnant!" The Player King turned to his men. "We need to work on clarity, people!"Guildenstern reacted with the appropriate levels of shock to keep things moving."Oh, yes. While he was equivocating, someone else slipped in and stole his brides heart, and a few other intimate parts."The tragedians hooted appreciatively."What did he do to her after he found out?" The humming was so loud - Guildenstern could feel the vibration of it through his body."What could he do? He begged her forgiveness.""He begged her forgive him?" None of this made sense. Why was he watching this cheap melodrama? He felt that he needed to allow the man his story in order to see Rosencrantz awaken - yet he couldn't verbalize this thought because its irrationality irritated him. The humming started to began to vibrate around each word the Player King spoke."But, of course." The Tragedian laughed merrily "It was his fault. She didn't understand. He had kept her a child so long, and she was so confused and lonely that she fell onto the..." Alfred was coyly lifting his skirt again for a tragedian who stuck out his tongue lustily, "talon of the first slick con artist that came along and made her feel good about herself. He realized that the only problem was the problem within him. He had put himself into a position where no matter what he did, he was wrong. He believed he was wrong in pulling her close, but he also knew he was wrong in pushing her away. No matter what he did, he was going deeper and deeper into a trap of his own devising, yet he couldn't or wouldn't, escape. An emotional paradox, if you'd pardon me for saying it. The harder he worked to resolve it, the more he got trapped in it, until the obvious signs of the consequences of it became apparent. It was then he realized that the woman he loved was still the same, and would be the same no matter what, and he repented his mistake sorely.""That story makes no sense, on many different levels. What are you trying to say?" The humming was always with him. The humming was a part of him."Perhaps nothing. The story gets a little vague here. Either she died and he raised the child on his own, or the situation ended on its own shortly after he discovered it, and they lived happily ever after. In either case, he arranged for the man who did it to be killed. Everything ends well.""Is that all?""Yes."Guildenstern stood up as straight as the endless hum would allow him."Then, leave.""Not until you tell me what you think.""About what?""About my story."The humming threatened to come out his throat, but somehow he managed to speak words instead."I think its ridiculous melodrama. Who would that was anywhere near any kind of reality? Who lives like that?"The Player King shrugged his shoulders."I tried. She can't fault me that." Then after a moment he added, "We really must be going. We have rehearsals."They walked out, shutting the door behind them. For a moment Guildenstern would have sworn he heard a quiet click that made the humming stop as abruptly as if it had come from the other room. He worried that somehow the door had been locked and ran to check - it opened easily.Rosencrantz's eyes were still closed. Guildenstern saw that he couldn't carry him on his own - the only option was to leave him wake him up.He hefted the limp form onto his lap (it seemed to work before) and gently patted Rosencrantz's face. To his relief Rosencrantz woke up easily."I dreamed that the fellow from the tragedians was the Messenger." Rosencrantz said sleepily, his swelling eyes giving him an exaggeratedly tired look."Don't be stupid." Guildenstern said absently, more out of habit than with any passion, patting the other man's hair as if that were the thing keeping him awake again."I should tell you about it..." The humming started again and Guildenstern shouted over it -"Don't." The humming stopped as abruptly. "Can you see?""I'm not sure." Rosencrantz hadn't considered this yet. "Its dark."This was accurate. Dungeons aren't known for their sunniness."Upstairs?" It wasn't a command."I like this." Rosencrantz murmured. "We should stay here a while."Guildenstern wouldn't admit it, but while Rosencrantz was awake and in his arms, he was willing to let the Plot sort itself out for a little while.After they sat like this long enough for Guildenstern to snooze for a bit while Rosencrantz stayed awake watching him. As pleasant as he found the view, it became more and more apparent that staying in the dungeon was not a long term strategy."Is the door still unlocked?" Rosencrantz had forgotten until he hadn't."Yes.""Are you going to leave me?" It was pure curiosity. "No." Guildenstern didn't hesitate."You can leave if you want." Rosencrantz hid his face the best he could. "Don't let me stop you.""I'm not leaving.""Thank you." Rosencrantz spoke quietly but sincerely and Guildenstern gave him another pat.The rumble remained the echo of scurrying feet and silence that did not become the Tragedian's song.Footsteps.It was the dissonant sound of footsteps that woke Rosencrantz. When he realized he was snuggled against Guildenstern, he wanted to pretend to still be asleep to not feel obligated to do anything. It wasn't long before Guildenstern was also awakened. For a long wonderful moment they hid together, in the hopes of avoiding whatever was happening. It was Guildenstern who had to look - to know, setting his jacket on the ground so Rosencrantz would have something other than the stone (boulder, rock) to lay on.He was a little startled to open the cell door to witness the tragedians being filed into the neighboring cells."Our play offended the king." the lead tragedian offered weakly as an explanation, after Guildenstern caught his eye."Please help..." Guildenstern called out to the guards, but they acted as if he didn't exist, knocking him to the side as they walked by him without glancing.Lacking anything else to do, Guildenstern returned to the cell with Rosencrantz."Who was it?"Guildenstern filled his friend in on the sight he had seen."Did the King find out what they do in their off time?""No, he said it was because of the play they did for Hamlet.""As if we could believe anything HE said." Rosencrantz scoffed. Then wondered. "Is that what happened before?"Something seemed disconnected about recent events."We can't be sure. England. They were with us on the way to England - as was He." Guildenstern considered the possibilities. "Perhaps your act of refusing to come triggered a series of events that for some reason leads to everyone who was originally to go to England to come here, which means He will be coming." Guildenstern began to pace. "Or, perhaps the tragedians have some connection to these events we are not currently aware of that has lead them to have to be near us as part of their fate. " He stopped - then began pacing the other way. "OR perhaps the Tragedians had been the dungeon every time, and eventually they will escape and board the boat to England.""Do you think that is what happened?"Guildenstern looked at him derisively."No." Then after reconsidering he altered this to "Unlikely."The Tragedians seemed unmoved by their current fate - they were laughing as if this were the time of their lives."Its all right for them." Guildenstern noted. "They aren't needed.""Its alright for them." Rosencrantz sighed. "If you could change anything you remember... what would you change?""I would not have died." Guildenstern noted crisply - not looking at his friend."We would have died eventually... and it could have been a lot worse.""How?""I don't know.... we could have committed suicide and been damned to roam the earth in purgatory."Guildenstern looked sharp, but did not say anything for a long moment. When he finally did speak, he chose his words like stepping stones across a river."Suicide by the justice of kings is an ancient tradition, if you want to be technical." Throat clearing. "We did know what the note said.""Which note?""The Letter, if you prefer.""Oh, yes. That Letter." Rosencrantz was not convincing that he understood. "Were we like this before?""Like what?""Were we always this... useless?" Rosencrantz was near tears."Most likely.""Maybe we didn't deserve to live.""Maybe we never lived at all... metaphorically speaking, of course." Guildenstern added the last part a little too quickly."We walk around with a permanent case of... what do you call it? When you walk into a room, and you don't remember why you went there?""We would have had a servant get it for us." Guildenstern elegantly gestured for the invisible servant."Would we? Well then, when you call for a servant, and you don't remember why. I would sometimes call someone and then not remember calling them at all.""I wasn't like that before.""Are you sure?""I think I would have remembered being forgetful." Guildenstern sniffed superior, before adding. "The questions. Now they were always there.""No, they weren't. You had all of the answers.""No, I didn't." Guildenstern didn't give the words any weight, and if admitting this cost him anything, it didn't show.Rosencrantz considered it some more."We never needed anyone else." He said with a new confidence."As long as we're together, we can figure it out." Guildenstern added.Guildenstern put out his hand for a handshake, Rosencrantz took it gently as if he were going to give it a kiss. At the last moment, he shook the hand a little too heartily."After all, we have changed something." Rosencrantz was sure this was a sign of success."It's like a puzzle, or a maze." Guildenstern spoke with a fresh confidence. "We have to figure out the right places to turn and we will get out fine.""Do you think so?'Guildenstern only allowed his hesitation to show in his tone."Yes?""You do?"With more confidence, "Yes."The sound of the tragedians did not fill the dungeons when they awoke next."Maybe they really did escape and stowaway on the boat to England." Rosencrantz said hopefully."They seemed to know something." Guildenstern was of the opinion that it was far more likely the tragedians were executed, but he couldn't bring himself to say so.Rosencrantz tried to stand and succeeded with the unsteadiness of a newborn calf."You should not be walking," Guildenstern was the Mother Hen again. "Maybe we've succeeded in breaking this, we shouldn't take chances. If we leave, who knows what new Plot they'll have ready for us.""Spend an eternity in a cell?" Rosencrantz didn't say it as acidly as Guildenstern would have - but he came as close as he was able. "Aren't you curious what things are like around here now that He's gone?""If He is gone." Guildenstern noted sourly. "We were supposed to escort him to England. I remember that much."Guildenstern should have over-ruled Rosencrantz, but he was terribly curious as to how the castle might be different without the Prince.Upstairs they went.Their footsteps seemed to echo with every step. Rosencrantz found he could see in a blurry kind of way. He was in something of a state of confusion and occasionally would make loud inappropriate observation such as "I feel like I'm walking on the ceiling." or staring at his thumb and saying "I think its getting larger", or "Wow, that painting is the spitting image of the Prince, there must be a lot of royal incest." Guildenstern tried to shush him, telling him it was the Prince, but to be honest, he wasn't sure.There was no one.There never was anyone. But there was always the impression that there was someone - that there could be someone. The castle was seemed so empty that the occasional furnishing was oddly jarring. Rosencrantz stated the obvious first."Like when you see a dead body, you don't see the face, yet you know its dead. Not sleeping, dead. Empty."Rosencrantz rarely got into these moods and Guildenstern could not stand one of them right now. Yet... he also couldn't bring himself to yell at his friend.He decided he was going to change Rosencrantz's mood.Step one (attempt physical contact):He tapped his fingers on the top of Rosencrantz's head.Step two (establish connection):"What's this?" he asked.Rosencrantz didn't know.Step 3 (punchline):"A starving brain sucker."It got a little laugh out of Rosencrantz, but somehow it made things worse. The wrong thing to say at the wrong time. Acting too much like Rosencrantz's big brother, or nursemaid instead of... what?A door creaked open and they were stepping into the pleasure gardens."It is early spring," Guildenstern guessed with confidence, noting both the chill in the air and the flowers starting to bloom. They walked as the sun never changed position, wandering around until they had passed the flower gardens and reached the kitchen entrance. Herbs that grew nearby for the cook to grab and use. Rosencrantz pointed to a plant with thin spiny leaves."What's that? That looks familiar.""I think that's rosemary. For remembrance.""Where did you hear that?""I don't remember..." Something had felt off - Guildenstern had not noticed the stationary position of the sun, but he had noticed something as important. "Do you remember it being this time of year before?""Do I remember what?""Before... I thought it was winter... but now its spring. Could the seasons be changing? This is getting stranger by the moment. There used to be nothing. Recently, I have begun remember a childhood, a home. Somehow it seems wrong, I never had a home... you were always home." Guildenstern was struggling towards something - if Rosencrantz had been paying attention perhaps there would have been some forward motion.But, Rosencrantz was not paying attention. While Guildenstern rambled, Rosencrantz had a moment of visual clarity. He saw Someone in the distance and was already wandering off towards... whoever it was, half running, falling, staggering.Personally, Guildenstern thought, if someone came running at him like that he would run the other way. He considered asking Rosencrantz to stop and wait.Whoever it was, didn't run.When Rosencrantz's eyes first focused clearly on the feminine form, for a moment he thought it was the Messenger again. He didn't care anymore. He couldn't keep being Nowhere. However, it was not the Messenger, nor was it the Player King or any of the tragedians. It was the girl that Hamlet didn't love.This Ophelia was walking along swinging her arms limply - looking but not SEEING. Like the castle, somehow you had the impression there was no one there.Still, she was SOMEONE. Someone else other than them. Guildenstern would catch up and between the three of them maybe something fresh would happen. He walked with her - even in his injured condition, he had to slow to match her pace. She didn't seem to notice or care about his presence.He tried to think of an entry point to make conversation, but she never said anything. For lack of anything else, he impulsively plucked a stem off the nearest plant and offered to her."Here's a rosemary. They say that's for...""Remembrance." She responded - she turned to him and for the first time Rosencrantz noticed what beautiful eyes she had. They seemed to have a life of their own, changing from blue to grey to green before gleaming darkly. Now there was life in the girl - not much life. It was as if someone had wound her up, and set down to do her mechanical tasks But still, it was a change. She grabbed the flower from him and started gathering more.He turned around to find Guildenstern standing behind him. Guildenstern shuddered even though the non-existent wind was warm."Madness is catching.""What do you think happened to her?""What happened to any of us?""Something more than Hamlet not loving her.""You remember that?" Guildenstern was impressed."This fresh air has done me a world of good, I feel much better now." Rosencrantz stretched, and immediately staggered and started to fall into a nearby pile of vegetation. He was caught by Guildenstern, who managing to catch his friend, fell over himself from the unexpectedness of the angle and weight."I can't breathe, get off..." Guildenstern gasped attempting to catch what breath he could.Fortune stayed with Guildenstern as Rosencrantz got up quickly and easily."Who is she?" Guildenstern asked as soon as he had a moment to refocus himself."She is the current Ophelia." Guildenstern considered addressing the phrasing, but decided to pick his battles."Is there any particular reason you know of she's flinging flowers around?""It seemed to cheer her up."They agreed this sign of life was encouraging and they soon saw a second.Smoke was pouring out of the kitchen chimney. Possible signs of life, they agreed. They went inside to discover a servant, who was startlingly helpful."I apologize for the inconvenience, sir." Addressing Guildenstern. "Sir." Addressing Rosencrantz. "There has been a..." dramatic pause " death in the family. Allow me to get you a bite to eat."Guildenstern refused. Rosencrantz impulsively asked for eggs "any old way - I can't remember the last time I had good eggs.""Please, sit and make yourselves comfortable." The servant watched them carefully, as if he were making sure they stayed in place."I like that fellow." Rosencrantz declared."This is all wrong. The way that fellow is acting is all wrong." Guildenstern couldn't put his finger one what, but something was off. "He was rather insistent we eat.""He didn't object to you not getting anything.""He probably assumes I will eat whatever you eat.""You're always so suspicious." Rosencrantz declared."What if the food is what's keeping us here? Persephone in the underworld is an excellent cautionary tale.""Eggs are not pomegranates. I don't remember ever seeing you eat anything.""I eat." Guildenstern stated defiantly."No you don't." Rosencrantz tried to imagine Guildenstern doing something as physical as consuming food and found it difficult."I had to have eaten. I vividly remember eating a tomato at some point.""I don't remember ever seeing you eat. If the food was keeping us here, then we'd both have to eat to stay. QED.""I'm not starting to eat now. I don't trust a helpful servant." Then Guildenstern started reviewing their conversation. "A death in the family...""Who died?" Rosencrantz picked up the thread immediately.Guildenstern had to take a moment to go over events in his mind. He wasn't sure anymore. The things he Knew had faded and become Forgotten.Before he had to confess this, the conversation was interrupted by the servant returning with the dish of eggs. The man lingered at hand while Rosencrantz poked and prodded the substance on his plate.Finally Rosencrantz said, "I hate to complain but these eggs are blurry.""What?""These eggs are blurry. I'm not eating blurry eggs." Guildenstern rolled his eyes but otherwise stayed out of the conversation. "I can't imagine that eating blurry eggs would be safe." Rosencrantz continued, "I'm going to have to ask you to take them back to the chef and ask him to make something that isn't blurry.""I'm sorry about that," the servant said quietly, taking the eggs. They could clearly hear him walking to the kitchen and yelling at the chef."THIS IS THE THIRD COMPLAINT WE'VE HAD ABOUT BLURRY EGGS."A second voice, hoarse from breathing in smoke replied."That mad prince or those jokers from the theatrics shouldn't be taken seriously. There's no such thing as blurry eggs.""I don't know what they are, but thrice in one day is too much. Today is your last day."There were more words that were indistinguishable before the servant returned to inform them the chef was making something else entirely before melting away.Guildenstern was thoughtful. "Did he seem familiar, somehow?"The tall thin - oddly hairy - servant returned again."Here we are..."Whatever it was, it looked quite good. It was difficult to believe it was made in less time than the partially cooked eggs. This time, the man disappeared as soon as the plate touched the table."I'm warning you, don't eat that."Rosencrantz ate a mouthful, exaggerating its deliciousness to further aggravate his friend."Too late," Rosencrantz grinned. Guildenstern was not amused. "Come on, try some." he continued, after Guildenstern stared at every bite with an expression of stone."No.""It tastes like almonds, try some.""No.""Come on...""In the face of that argument, I'll try some." He tried a crumb as Rosencrantz continued to eat heartily. "It's rather bitter, isn't it?""Bitter is good for you." Rosencrantz noted with confidence."I don't think that's quite right. Maybe this is just what I get for reading too much but in my experience bitter means... poison." Guildenstern half jokingly suggested. "Perhaps the chef has poisoned us for revenge." The chef opened the door to the kitchen. With a wink, the chef removed his chef's hat and released her endless blonde hair."Throw it up!" Guildenstern ordered.Rosencrantz had noticed this new development as well and was starting to panic.The butcher's knife became a sword."How?""Spin around a bit."Rosencrantz tried to spin, but he fell and vanished.She was there to make sure they died. Guildenstern realized with horror. Why? Why all of this? Why them?He grabbed more of it to eat as she stepped closer, but his hand wouldn't cooperate with his mouth.Next time, he thought wildly as she calmly raised her sword, next time he wasn't taking Rosencrantz with him. He was too much of a distraction. And he shouldn't have to go through this again.The last thing he remembered seeing was the Messenger/The Player King/Chef standing over him - sword poised.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Rosencrantz's head ached so. It was the worst headache in recent memory - even though if he had reflected he would have realized he didn't remember much other than the pain. The pain was the sort that needed physical contact to soothe it, so he affectionately caressed the figure next to him on the bed. Filled with a sudden feeling of safety at the sight of the body next to him. Rosencrantz kissed the top of the figure's head. He wouldn't have been surprised if the figure had absently brushed him off or ignored him. Instead of these expected things the figure stretched, and sat up revealing a large amount of blonde hair. The hair was everywhere. It, he realized with a growing horror, surrounded him. It pooled onto the floor and into corners. One couldn't walk a step in the room without stepping on the colorless Hair.Rosencrantz wasn't one to complain about things being a bit out of place. Still, hair all about seemed untidy. His temples ached and his eyes strained to find a place that was not covered in the hair so he could get up.Something about hair - a spot in his brain began to glow warningly. Endlessly long hair - pouring into corners and a feeling... a feeling that seemed like an absence of something. Further examination revealed that the room was completely unfamiliar to him. It reminded him of childhood somehow - feeling small and looking up at the endless ceiling. The sky blue ceiling, on examination, was the only area free of the Hair. For a wild moment, he tried to figure out a way to the ceiling, but realized he did not have the proper materials on-hand to leverage himself. From the little he could see of the room it was the sort of elegant castle rooms that only a proper married man of the Court would have.Rosencrantz was about to awaken his bedfellow to ask if an overhead beam would support his weight well enough to swing himself to the door when the figure had turned to face him of its own accord. The figure was not his friend. Guildenstern looked different at different times but even when names were gone Rosencrantz always Knew him. This figure was Someone Else. A strange woman. Rosencrantz had moved faster once or twice - but not with such alacrity - stumbling directly into a pile of hair next the bed that seemed to grab him."I'm sorry, miss. I don't..."His immediate goal was to leave the room before she started to scream. What he was doing in her room, how he had managed to get into her bed were all details that could be worked out later. Her beautiful face lit into a shattering laugh that froze him in place with a friendliness that seemed to tangle with the Hair around his ankles preventing his escape."You are always so honorable." She examined him carefully. "You have nothing to fear from any angry men- my husband is the only man in the room."Rosencrantz jumped and looked around him,"That's You." She explained. Her smile didn't fade.He was pretty sure he wasn't married. There was something wrong."I'm sorry - you must be mistaken.""Darling," she looked at him with quiet compassion, "you've been in an awful accident. What's the last thing you remember?"
The smell of ink and old books and something else....a jaw....
He didn't want to tell her these things - they felt private."Your friend Guildenstern?" She said leading."Yes." he said after some moments, realizing he had to answer. "The name sounds familiar.""That's better. A few days ago you thought I was one of your sisters and you were fifteen again back in your childhood home." She laughed a tinkling laugh that worried Darling somehow. It was... too sweet. Too cheerful. The hair seemed to climb up the walls like ivy - it felt like it was squeezing his ankles. A feeling of alarm sharpened. It reminded him of something. The smell of ink and old books was gone. His breathing quickened."Don't worry about my hair, Dearest. I will have it put up again properly - I needed to make sure you woke me up. I can't have you wandering around the castle, confused. You have a sensitive condition, darling."The hair made him think of a spider's web. A spider's web and she was the smiling spider in the middle, using it to sense his movement to trap him. Had he ever been away from Dearest the Other for this long? Yes, but not like this. This was Something Else."Where is he?""What's the last thing you remember?" She asked this casually - he felt as if he were hearing an echo of a hundred Dearests (was he Darling or Dearest?) asking and something watching - waiting. "Sit down, Darling."As if by magic a small chair in between the dressing table and the wardrobe appeared hair-free and the hair seemed to suddenly release his ankles. If he didn't know better... Darling carefully stepped in the few spots of floor that showed through the sea of hair and finally landed in the chair without incident. She made a clicking sound and a small well dressed monkey wearing a tiny scarlet jacket and cap appeared. It tipped its little hat to Darling before disappearing into a swirl of wheat colored curls. Somehow this swirl turned into a complicated looping set of braids that hung smoothly down his wife's the woman's back. There was something familiar about the style, but he only got a momentary flash of roped hair before she was brightly in his face, her eyes green gems that matched her emerald gown.This would have been the first distraction."What's the last thing you remember about your friend, Dearest?" She was smiling with too many teeth. What was the last thing he remembered? An alarmed face looking down, with an expression of disappointment and sadness. Spinning. Falling into...There was a knock. Not a universe splitting knock but a quiet almost hesitant knock. Darling Rosencrantz found it took all of his concentration to reach the door as each hesitant knock seemed to echo on and on. He would almost reach the door handle and then - if his attention wandered for an instant - it would again become out of reach. He saw the woman's face out of the corner of his eye as he finally touched the door handle. For a moment, she had an expression of incandescent rage.Outside the door was a boy, dressed in the proper finery of a page-boy. Clean and well dressed - Rosencrantz would not have recognized Alfred (he didn't think the name but he Knew the child) if it weren't for his eyes. In the pageboy's eyes he saw the dirty boy who smelled of a thousand nights without a bath.The clean little hand passed him a folded paper."Thank you." Rosencrantz mechanically reached into his purse and handed the child a small coin that quickly disappeared."You've always been good to me, sir." It wasn't the money the boy referred to - the child disappeared. The blonde woman was on him."Darling, you need to understand something... about your friend."She reached out to take the message from him. Rosencrantz opened it instead - mechanically, as one in a dream. It was unsigned - this didn't matter, he recognized the writing.
A messenger came with a summons from the King.
I didn't want to wake you up. Don't follow me,
I'll probably be back shortly.
I'm being serious. Don't follow me.
She was at his shoulder."Thank God." She crossed herself and sighed. "This is one of the more harmless ones. He's come close to causing problems."The Note. It was like an itch he couldn't quite reach. Everything seemed to almost connect and then fizzle out like moist firewood. The Note would have made sense if he was... if he was... where?"He thinks," she continued, "That the two of you still live together at Wittenberg. Its almost sweet. The doctors say his mind is clinging to the last happy memory he has."This sounded wrong. Rosencrantz grasped at the little he understood."Why would he send this if we weren't living together?"
The Messenger. A flash of a scarlet cloak...
He walked around the room absently looking at the furnishings of the room as if expecting to find an answer in them. "Sit down, darling." He sat - the room seemed darker without the Hair covering it. She looked very serious and sad. "Its best I not mince words. Your friend is mad.""The Prince?"She laughed a tinkling broken glass laugh."Don't you start in as well. The Prince is at Wittenberg, as per usual. The eternal scholar they call him. He'll return a regular philosopher-king."Again, this seemed wrong. It seemed like the Prince should be at the castle.
A messenger came with a summons from the King.
"The doctor said this might be a problem. He said you'd get mixed up easily. I don't know why the boy passed that message on - he should know better."Darling had been living an adventurous life Rosencrantz didn't remember. The basics of the recent forgotten past were:Darling had married the Woman (Greta).Guildenstern had married a girl named Rosalind.Rosalind died (the Woman was vague on this point - it wasn't in Rosencrantz's nature to inquire too deeply into the whys and hows of such matters).Guildenstern couldn't handle life without his beloved and lost his grip on reality."You arranged things for him the best you could, of course. You were the only person that could calm him - and you never shirked your duty to him. That's how the incident happened."It seemed that during one of the madman's more violent spells, Guildenstern had knocked Darling out - both preventing him from getting immediate care and injuring him a second time during an attempt at rescue. Since then, according to her, neither had been quite the same."No one blames the poor dear, of course. He's been oh so upset. He insists that you are staying in bed on his orders and rants about conspiracies involving mad princes and how England is a place of Death. He is starting to be seen as Dangerous, Darling.""Where is he?""Safe in the dungeon where he won't harm himself or others.""May I see him?""No." Her smile never wavered."What's the last thing you remember?" She looked different now. The room was different. Her ropes of hair were wrapped in black - everything she wore was black. Already strangely colorless, this made her look deathly pale. Her eyes were a blue that seemed to be an illusion of the light hitting the white of her eye. The only color that wasn't black or white were her lips almost glowing with red.He remembered a message. Don't follow me. She shook her head, as if he had said it out loud.This could have been the first distraction."That was months ago, Darling." He hadn't spoken out loud. Hadn't he? "King Hamlet is dead." Her eyes filled with tears. "The Prince has been away for over a decade. We don't know who he is anymore."Rosencrantz knew he needed to focus so he put his mind on the Question - the only important Question."Where is he?""The Prince?" She asked sweetly. She scowled for only a moment when he shook his head no."You have to let him go, Dearest. He is a liability. He had been talking about the old King's death for months." She put her hand to her mouth as if sharing a secret. "If he weren't well guarded, I suspect he would have been investigated closely."It was how obviously false her concern was that made Rosencrantz nervous."What do you mean?""I mean... we don't have the clout to protect him. Not unless we make some alliances -the old King's brother has been making noises... If you could get your friend to get himself together and use his votes to get the old King's brother elected, I think the new King would make sure he was protected.""The Prince wouldn't....""Wouldn't he?" Rosencrantz didn't remember answering her. He must have agreed to her plan - what else would he do? They were at a funeral, people everywhere but none of them had faces in the sea of black The Queen a tableau collapsed in tears on an opulent coffin. The Prince a smooth blank statue of marble. One face stood out to him - a strangely clean face.A small hand grabbed his and silently led him to a room with a desk. It must have been a room in the castle, but it triggered a memory of a familiar Room. The pageboys words You've always been good to me, sir. echoed in the air without being spoken.He looked in the desk and was rewarded with pages upon pages of paper in Guildenstern's handwriting. With only a moment's hesitation, he began to read."What's the last thing you remember?" She was white and gold now. Her eyes a liquid glowing brown.Rosencrantz was not going to tell her about the desk of papers, even though they were the thing that filled his mind. He wished Dearest the other was there to help pull out the important information from the jumble of information that was bouncing around."The King." Darling tried."What about the King?" She used a cloying tone."He's dead?" She put up a correcting finger."The King married today." Now Darling was confused, she could see this and smiled mischievously. "Ask me which King."This had the potential to be the first distraction."Which King?""King Claudius" When Darling didn't respond with immediate joy, she clapped demonstratively. "We won - we saved your friend."For some reason it didn't feel like he had won. He had read the papers in the desk. They were mostly incomprehensible - conversations that he remembered from forgotten dreams. Guildenstern's firm but startling QED - they were dead. They were living the same day over and over - perhaps as some sort of punishment? Guildenstern theories. The what's and why's didn't seem to matter. Only one thing mattered to him."Where is he?""You keep asking that." She laughed. "I tell you, he is cared for. He doesn't need you.""He does." Rosencrantz said firmly. "I can't let him be trapped in the Dark alone.""Of course, you can." She hissed, turning sharply and walking away. With her back turned, she uncovered her hair so he could see the design of her braids clearly - hangman's nooses.Rosencrantz never had been so single-minded. He knew one thing, and one thing only: he had to get to the boat dock before Guildenstern left for England. The castle didn't work right. Hallways led to hallways. Time passed marked by the changing of light. If you asked, he couldn't say how many weeks it took him to walk from one end of the castle to the other. The time wasn't important only the end was. He left the castle in time to meet a ragtag group carrying trunks and barrels.The leader, wearing a kings costume and a theatrical crown, made no attempt to hide from the newcomer. In fact, he hailed Rosencrantz - who responded mainly because the startlingly blue eyes seemed to remind him of someone."Finally, a familiar face. We have worked together before?""I don't believe so..." This was the first distraction. "Who are you?""Men on the move." The man (he reminded Rosencrantz of the Boy somehow) answered briskly - pointing the group towards one of the ships."Moving on to better things, I assume." For a moment, Rosencrantz almost forgot. But he felt the absence of Guildenstern as if he were a missing limb. "Are any of these ships bound for England?""I know how I recognized you." The Tragedian rubbed his thin mustache thoughtfully.Rosencrantz cocked his head to the side. "How?""As a lover going to his beloved" The man grinned lecherously, his teeth strangely white and straight. "Some lovely lady of the court? Or, perhaps, some lad? Hmm?"Rosencrantz demurred, his discomfort only fueling the leader's wide smile. "Don't worry, that boat isn't going to leave without you. I have several of its crew with me. As a matter of fact, if you want to know a little secret... I have the entire crew with me. But don't tell anyone." The Player King smiled cunningly. "I might not know you, but I know your type."Rosencrantz tried to find a polite way to turn away but no matter which way he turned, the false king was in front of him."Running off to prevent your lover from performing some sort of noble sacrifice? They never appreciate it. Being stopped. It always turns out badly." The Player King smirked knowingly. "I've performed enough romantic pieces in my time to know what I'm talking about. Let her - or him- do what she - or he- has to do, and she -or he - will come to you on their own terms." He examined Rosencrantz's reaction with sharp interest. "No good? Fine, but I'll tell you one more thing: Tragedies end in death. Comedies end in marriage.""What does that mean?""Whatever you want it to mean. You know, I've always found that some people are extremely impressed by grand romantic gestures. A bit of forwardness, an assumption of returned affection. Do I have to demonstrate for you?" he turned to the side, "Alfred!" Rosencrantz started at the name. "Grand romantic gestures are what you would be looking for... state your feelings in a song, or learn another language. Any woman will tell you that childlike simplicity only gets you so far. No?"Rosencrantz stared at him, mouth open with a dawning realization. He didn't remember the details, but he remembered enough."I don't need your advice... I know you.""Good. Perhaps you should run - your ship is boarding."They were gone.Rosencrantz didn't remember walking to the boat. It wasn't like the drudgery of leaving the castle. He moved, he thought and then he was there.For all the world Guildenstern looked like a overgrown child bundled up waiting for Nurse to rescue him. Guildenstern was tall this time, leaning his awkwardly oversized body against any standing object that would hold his weight. It didn't matter this wasn't a Guildenstern he had seen before - Rosencrantz recognized his Dearest immediately.The keen observer would know the exact moment Rosencrantz reached Guildenstern's line of vision. This theoretical observer would have witnessed the man's expression go from blank to a bright ball of happiness as if someone had thrown a match into gunpowder. The observer would not however, have experienced the sense of slow motion that Rosencrantz did. The way it felt like they were the only two people on earth and the only thing that needed to happen was for them to come together as was right. When Guildenstern kissed him there was no surprise in Rosencrantz's eager response. It was the Thing to do. There was a coughing sound.They turned. Hamlet was looking right at them, smirking.Rosencrantz said the first thing that came to mind:"Wilt please you go, my lord?"Hamlet continued to smirk drawing out his words to make sure that his point was made."I'll be with you... straight... go you" He laughed a little to himself. "before." Hamlet walked away chuckling to himself and shaking his head."Now he sees me?" Guildenstern was stricken. Rosencrantz didn't even have a slip of a memory of having seen Guildenstern dead - but the loss of pallor at these comments seemed to give him a fair estimate of what that would have looked like. The tall man dejectedly refused to meet Rosencrantz's gaze as they entered the ship. After that, Guildenstern hardly spoke to Rosencrantz except to expound on the thesis: "I told you not to follow me.""I didn't...." Rosencrantz would start to say, but Guildenstern would never let him finish before continuing to insist that he would have had everything worked out if Rosencrantz had stayed put.Normally, Rosencrantz accepted Guildenstern's condemnations. However, Guildenstern wouldn't tell him where he had been nor would he listen to Rosencrantz's story. After a while Rosencrantz grew to resent his friend's attitude. Guildenstern acted like he was a child that needed to be chided for wandering out in the street too far. He didn't need to be coddled. Occasionally, maybe. Not all of the time.The Tragedians were an easy outlet for these feelings - an easy source of rebellion. They were all more than welcoming. The Woman, the Hair - even Clean Alfred seemed to fade away into nights of friendly drinking and gambling with the Tragedians and the ships crew (who happened to look exactly like the Tragedians with different names and hats). Lord Hamlet even joined them acting as merry and friendly as... well not as Rosencrantz REMEMBERED exactly, but in the way he'd expect. Things had started different - they might well end different.This was the second distraction.The night it happened, Rosencrantz stunk of drunken kisses. He was not, for the record, drunk, however he had been the subject of several amorous advances that night (from John the Sailor, John the Tragedian, and Lord Hamlet respectively) and had decided to extricate himself to the deck of the boat. It was only a coincidence that Guildenstern was out as well, staring up at the night stars.Rosencrantz intertwined his fingers nervously. He hoped to intrigue his friend into conversation."What is reflected in two mirrors facing each other?""What?" Not a follow-up, but an exclamation of surprise. The would-be scholar had been lost in the endless night sky and had not heard the other's approach."Someone asked me that in a dream I had. And I thought I'd mention it." Rosencrantz tried to keep a debonair air - as if he threw out intriguing bon mots such as this constantly."You had a dream you remembered?" Guildenstern lit up at the thought"Did I?"The cloaked figure sighed and deflated."Oh, yes." Rosencrantz felt the casualness slipping away, "I don't remember the dream. I only remember the phrase.""It sounds like a metaphor for eternity." Guildenstern noted."I suppose a mirror reflecting a mirror reflecting a mirror reflecting a mirror...""So it never stops." The sea seemed endless. Land didn't exist - it was only a dream of a thing like the Ship."Do you think that is what eternity is?" Rosencrantz needed to remember Something."Two mirrors facing each other?" Guildenstern shook his head as he said this to indicate his disagreement but Rosencrantz couldn't let the thought go so easily."It would become distorted eventually. A reflection could only get so small before it became distorted out of shape."Guildenstern wrapped his cloak around himself as if against a non-existent wind and didn't respond.Something about... Guildenstern being mad? Who told him that? But Guildenstern wasn't the one speaking madness about endless mirrors."What's the matter with you?" Rosencrantz was thinking to himself but somehow it came out of his mouth. "Nothing. I'm fine." Guildenstern snapped. "And why are you treating me to this rumination about mirrors?""I... I had a dream that...""It's cold, put up your hood." Guildenstern interrupted putting the hood over Rosencrantz's head."I'm not cold." Rosencrantz replied putting the hood down again."You'll catch yourself a death..." Guildenstern said automatically, putting up Rosencrantz's hood again. This time the non-existent wind blew a whiff of alcohol that couldn't be ignored. The fully sober man stiffened."Did you meet the tragedians on your trip to Elsinore?" Guildenstern was all business. Two people reporting their experiences to each other. Friendly acquaintances."I didn't travel to Elsinore," Rosencrantz started to explain again."You've forgotten." Guildenstern interrupted."I have not forgotten." Though he wasn't drunk, the alcohol he had consumed loosened Rosencrantz's temper. "I woke up in a strange room with a strange woman...""A strange woman?" A forgotten memory stirred."She thought I was a fellow named Darling.""I see..." Guildenstern said quietly, tightly controlling a feeling. "What else did she tell you?""I..." It was right on the tip of his tongue, but the words seemed to roll away from him. "She told me you were mad.""How was I mad?""It doesn't matter." Rosencrantz felt near tears. This wasn't how he wanted to speak to Guildenstern. "I know you aren't.... I can't... what is happening?""It does. Matter." "She said," He felt strangely reluctant to say It. "You were delusional. Believed that we were at Wittenberg together because that was the happiest time for you."Guildenstern nodded a nod that seemed to slowly deepen as he brought his hand to his chin."Why didn't you stay with her?""I couldn't leave you alone."Guildenstern looked out at the endless water and thought of the nonexistent land they traveled to."I would have been fine.""I wouldn't have been." Rosencrantz couldn't look at him now."I'm sorry I kissed you." Guildenstern said sharply - as if the words were forced out of his mouth.Rosencrantz started to respond but Guildenstern shook his head. "You are so innocent to the ways things can be interpreted. If any of the sailors saw us, we would be the talk of the...boat room...thingy...where they talk... for weeks. If certain rumors about sailors are true, maybe worse. You have no sense of appropriateness. The only thing that keeps you from kissing me in the middle of a public street is the fact that I'd be upset, not the fact that it is a PUBLIC STREET and one doesn't do that sort of thing in front of other people.""Could I kiss you right now?""You could, theoretically. If we weren't on a boat full of sailors..."At least that's what Guildenstern was going to say. He didn't make it past "You could" before Rosencrantz silenced him with a kiss. After an eternity of being lost in each other, their reverie was interrupted by the bang of drunken sailors leaving the boat room thingy, laughing and talking. Guildenstern wordlessly grabbed Rosencrantz's hand and went back below decks.After setting up candles and chairs, adjusting a basket, Guildenstern sat then stood and then sat again. "There are things... beyond normal experience. But people don't want to recognize that. Individually they do, but as a mass, they want things to be compartmentalized nicely. Does that make sense?"Rosencrantz was rather hoping they were going to kiss some more and didn't quite know what to do with this new direction."I'm afraid you'll have to explain."Speaking plainly didn't come naturally to Guildenstern. His awkwardly tall body strained to sit comfortably in the standard sized compartment and short legged chair. He had to lean against the wall to stretch his legs and he did so."Have you seen a woman with endlessly long hair?"This could have been the final distraction"You remember her?" There was something Important Rosencrantz needed to remember."You've seen her?""She was the Woman."Guildenstern immediately recognized that this seemed important."I've been keeping notes." He stated proudly, pulling out a small notebook. "You can review what I have so far...." The previously filled pages had disappeared. He made the note on the remaining paper. The specifics had unfortunately drained out of his memory but he instinctively felt she knew Something. "Did she say anything? Did she hurt you?" Pencil at the ready."How did you see her?" Rosencrantz was still working this out. "She told me you were in the dungeon.""The Dungeon!" Guildenstern threw down his little book with a snap. "You see? It all makes sense!" But when he tried to articulate how it made sense, he failed. Deflated, he asked the most important question. "When you saw her, did you question her existence?""She was there." Rosencrantz stated blankly."But you would have felt better if I was there, correct?""Oh, yes, of course.""Because I could have verified that what you saw was real as well." Rosencrantz opened his mouth to answer but Guildenstern trod over him. "But if, for example, the whole court were there they would have seen a beautiful woman with very long hair - but not endless. That's not possible.""What are you getting at?" "Without you, I was only going through the motions and they didn't care."Guildenstern held himself as tightly as he could but as he reached the end of his statement he began to unravel. "They don't care if its one of us or both of us.... I suspect if we weren't there they would speak to the air in the same manner. It was awful. I couldn't get away from them - it was always happening without a break." There was a kiss. It was only as a comfort, at first. Then, they were lying on the bed together. There was no objection as One pulled the Other in deeper gently exploring the soft recesses of the Other's mouth. There was no specific endgame in mind when One explored the Other's body with his hands, but when an erection popped out eagerly the next actions seemed instinctive and natural. Exploring, touching, rubbing. Embracing the Other - one arm around his back and one...well, still in the same place. If Guildenstern had anything further to say about the nature of existence, he seemed to have shelved it. "I don't want..." The Other started to say - One stopped immediately to allow his dearest to speak. "I don't want to lose control...""Only for a few seconds." One offered. The Other offered no further objections."Your kisses are sweeter than I could have imagined." Dearest moaned into his Darling incomprehensibly as he twitched - the release felt strangely hot as it hit Darling's stocking. Never had One seen the Other so relaxed. Not that he remembered, at least. One was undoing his own pants, to release his own tension, the Other being too relaxed to offer his own services. However, the Other surprised One by lazily putting out a hand and sleepily rubbing in a way that was apparently the touch that was needed. He climaxed almost immediately, making desperate little whimpering noises. "Sorry." was whispered hoarsely into his lover's ear as their bodies seemed to melt together in mutual satisfaction."About what? Oh," If there was an objection to the substance that had gotten on his hand, he didn't show it more than was necessary to clean up.They lay there in silence for a long time, their breathing so in sync there might have only been one man in the room. Neither said the words, but they both felt it. It was right, somehow.Unfortunately, things didn't seem so certain in the morning once the relaxing effect of satisfied passion had worn off.When Guildenstern woke, he felt strangely detached from the events of the previous night. Where did that come from?' he wondered to himself. He knew the answer, but for some reason it stayed very nicely out of mind. He searched for a distraction. There was still the question of the Letter. His mind snatched onto this, but only for a moment. "What happened last night?" he asked quietly."Don't you remember?" Rosencrantz was sleepily teasing."Why do you ask?""Do you have to ask?""How long?""Are you asking me to guess?" Rosencrantz was already trying to place his hands the appropriate distance apart."Have you always felt like that about me?""How do I feel about you?" Guildenstern was on the verge of losing his temper when he saw Rosencrantz's little half smile."Not now..." He had missed this. On sudden mutual impulse their mouths came together again."I've felt that way for as long as I can remember." Was the response once the shorter man had a chance to get a breath."That doesn't mean much." Guildenstern didn't intend to snap at him, but Rosencrantz didn't say anything for a long time."I thought you knew... " He finally admitted."I didn't... Did I?" Guildenstern pulled out the Letter from his jacket pocket. It seemed a malicious thing, somehow. Rosencrantz was seized with a sudden rare fit of temper - grabbing the paper, tearing it in half, and throwing the pieces over the side of the boat. The Other did not resist."What do we do now?" Guildenstern didn't mean right then."I don't know. What do you want to do?" They sat in a companionable silence for a long time. Coins was out of the question. Even Questions were, somehow. If they stayed where they were, quietly, would they eventually disappear? But no answer to either the immediate or more long term question seemed to come to them, until a canon shot rocked the boat. The pirate attack lowered their immediate options to either stand and fight or run and hide.They both ran and hid, of course.They sat in their hiding place in silence for a while, before Rosencrantz decided to make an attempt at conversation."Do you ever wonder how someone becomes a pirate?""Poverty and social conditions." Guildenstern said meditatively."There are plenty of poor people who don't become pirates."Guildenstern was silent before asking a question."Do you remember the first time you ever did something wrong?"Rosencrantz shook his head, which Guildenstern more felt than saw."Its more a memory of a story someone told me. When I was a very young, I took something - I suppose what isn't important, lets say an apple - from a vendor on the street. I wasn't yet old enough to understand that the world didn't exist for my happiness.""There are plenty of fellows older than us who don't know that." Rosencrantz tried to lighten the mood."I thought anything I saw was mine just because I wanted it. I was probably a spoiled brat. My father, when he realized what I had done, laughed and asked me where I got it. Found the man, paid for the apple. The shopkeeper made it clear I should be beaten and offered in quite explicit terms to do it himself. I don't remember his exact words, but he made a comment about feeding his kids and his family. When he said that, it hit me that there was a whole world I didn't understand... I felt so horrible - I threw up when I got home. ""I thought I was the only one who got sick.""For a long time, I was bothered by the fact that I experienced no punishment at all for what I did. Not just from my father...but from the universe in general. It took a lot of reading before I realized that the universe didn't really care about what a spoiled child does. "The sounds of yelling and fighting continued outside."Do you think He is with the pirates, yet?""You remember?" Guildenstern was almost re-energized by this before deflating again. "Who knows? What does it matter?""Maybe we should follow him.""Yes, lets make sure we die not only meaninglessly, and quickly, but horribly as well.""Well... we're probably going to die anyway... we're almost definitely going to die anyway... you're the one who thinks we can get out of it...""Don't hold that against me.""We can't figure this out unless we take some sort of risk.""Shh...""What?""Do you hear that?""What? I don't hear anything.""Exactly. That's my point. There's nothing. A stereotype to be sure, but one that will show us that when we're out of here..." Guildenstern lifted the lid of the barrel and peeked out. "They are gone."They crept out and looked around."Is it just me or does something feel missing?"Something was. They were alone on the ship. Guildenstern sighed and leaned to look into the sea at the departing pirate ship.Occasionally they would have the vague impression of a departing ship. But this was something different. For one thing, it wasn't departing. It was coming at them with some rapidity. For another thing, the ship was made of men. Not dead men, but living sailors, shouting out sea shanties and other stereotypical sea sounds seemingly undisturbed by their use. The sea, Guildenstern noticed, was not the sea as he remembered it...but an endless tangle of hair."Rosencrantz...." when this didn't get a response he tried "Guildenstern..."This got the other man's attention. He also stared. If you had asked them, they would have sworn they were cynical old hands - incapable of further surprise. They were wrong."Is that..." Rosencrantz couldn't believe it.It was.This was the final distraction.Alfred was the mast of the man-ship - in skirt - his arms spread wide as if in welcome. He was either wearing a wig or the Hair was spilling out of the boat and over his head. Perhaps both, it was impossible to tell. Standing on the bow was the Prince held tightly between the Player King and Her - they swayed in a strange pantomime of seafaring. The physical resemblance between the lead tragedian and Aurora was even more striking side by side - they could have been parent and child. The main difference was the eyes. Her eyes were grey as the sea on a cloudy day and she was dressed as, well... a pirate - sword in hand, tri-corner hat, blowzy shirt and leather pants - the monkey on her shoulder wore a similar outfit and had a small colorful bird on its shoulder. From body language, the human pair could have been prisoners of the Prince as much as he the prisoner. All three faces had the same expression of intense determination. The Prince was the Prize - the crew could feast and drink for months off this easy ransom - if they were capable of not being a boat. They had no reason to return. Yet, they were converging on the ship."Please acknowledge the strangeness of this." Guildenstern pleaded."This is very strange." Rosencrantz acknowledged. "Am I asleep?" he asked dreamily. "I've had dreams like this before, but not quite so long. I hope I remember it.""If you're not dreaming then I am."They didn't have too much of a chance to debate this because the man-ship had already overtaken them - even as Guildenstern breathed the sound of "m" in am, Aurora boarded the ship - the sailors reconfigured their bodies to create a stairway onto the deck - on all fours as a stepstool, prone as an extra step. Her breasts bounced enticingly as she stepped down without looking at her helpers as one who knew with certainty her foot would find purchase. Her boots were disconcertingly large and heavy as they stepped onto the planking. The lead tragedian scrabbled onto the deck refusing any assistance. The Prince remained in situ - frozen in place."He's in-between scenes." The Player King noted helpfully as he found his footing.Aurora walked towards Rosencrantz - sword in hand - the monkey imitated her action with its tiny sword. Even the bird put out its wing in sympathy."You forgot this, Darling." Her hair was everywhere and everything. Her eyes were too large, her mouth too soft, her teeth too straight and white. Her beauty was as sharp and threatening as the blade she held out. Rosencrantz looked again and saw he was mistaken. It wasn't a sword - it was a letter. He remembered the letter he received that morning from Guildenstern - this was the letter. He was so sure and he raced to take it back. But it wasn't a letter - it was a sword. A sword that was inside him up to the hiltShe leaned in close and spoke in his ear."He doesn't want to be alone. He doesn't care about you."She twisted the blade as Rosencrantz stared dumbly at it. It was only an impression - the visual of a moment before the hair engulfed him.Guildenstern was frozen in place. Through all this his attention was on the Player King.The hair was to his ankles.The false king laughed."You'll never be friends again. You won't be able to keep your hands off each other.""I wouldn't have left him if I had known I was leaving him with you." Guildenstern spat back.The hair was to his knees now."You've left him with us before." The Tragedian grinned sharply. "You will leave him with us again.""Never." Guildenstern said. "Never again."The hair was wadeable, but barely."You'll forget." The man laughed heartily. "You always forget."Guildenstern saw a rope and grabbed for it wildly - realizing too late it was a hangman's noose. This was the last thing he saw before the hair engulfed him.