Of three workers and a desert (5)
February 22nd, 2017
– Woyzeck, Woyzeck! Yeah, you old drunk, call me Ziggy, will you?
– Why so anxious, Zigmund, let me sleep. I had the most perfect dream you interrupted.
– Call me Ziggy, I dare you.
– Calm down! Oh, the fields and the forest, Zigmund, there was a forest! Argh, you lonesome idiot, why did you have to wake me up? Tell me, why?!
– Damn, you won‘t call me Ziggy, not when I need. Should have expected that much. Well, shame on me.
– What‘s the obsession about?! Why you‘re holding hands behind your back?
– This! You won‘t be calling me Ziggy. Only when I say.
– Hell! What the…
– Fuck! I know, right. I‘ve got my piece, haha, oh yeah, I got what you couldn‘t get.
– Ok ok, you got yours, now take this thing out of my face! You weren‘t going to shoot me, were you?
– Nah, old wise man, I wouldn‘t waste this bullet on you, your days are already short as it is.
– Where…how did you get it? I will suspend my disbelief as to why you would need it.
– My needs none of your business, you‘re straight on this. Found it by the hole.
– But it does not leave tools, or else we could have done something since we lost ours that night.
– Something more specific, Woyzeck?
– Build something.
– What? A wall, a street?! Then bang our heads against the wall, while getting lost in a street?
Don‘t you see the futility of all of this work? We had our run with oil, heck, somebody must have used it to build that wall and that street, and we got what? Fucking cactus juice, that cheap ass whisky! You got no peace, that‘s for sure. Well, I got mine. Come to think of it, the perfect tool for our predicament.
– You‘ve got war.
– So be it, I got war. It‘s something though, not all that crap pile of means for survival. By the way, why haven‘t we thrown all that garbage into the hole? Damn, we must be dense as fuck.
– You‘re steaming. Remember, we thought of burying it in the sand, but the shovels were gone.
– Alright. You can‘t hurt me now, moment of truth.
– I know.
– What you know?
– That you threw the tools into the hole.
– And you didn‘t say anything? Hard to believe.
– Didn‘t want to worry Joseph.
– Oh, Jose. What, do you think he would have had a go at me? I‘m not afraid of Joshua. He doesn‘t have it in him. You know, like we do. Or used to. Before you got, yeah, you know, what I mean.
– You‘re not hearing me, I was worried about Joseph, not you.
– Yeah, yeah, protecting your son from harsh realities of life.
– From harsh realities of those incapable to cope with life.
– Shit, old man, you know I could shoot you right here?!
– I don‘t care. I know you couldn‘t, Ziggy.
Zigmund points the gun at Woyzeck. Holds it.
– Not worth it, your temple is not worth this bullet.
– Then whose is?
– Nobody‘s. I will keep it like this. Just wanted to fuck with you.
– I bet you did.
– Oh, here come Joseph, newly born out of infinite pregnancy of the desert.
– Woyzeck, what is the gun doing in Zigmund‘s hands?!
– I am as baffled as you are.
– When did you get it?
– Found it by the hole.
– Must have been dropped by that man I could not understand.
– Yeeeaaa, the bearded comrade, speaking fire?! Who needs words, when you got action! Telling the truth, am I, am I?!
– Stop waving this thing around! You‘re going to get us killed.
– No way, can‘t happen.
– Is it empty?
– No it has only one bullet, so, no way I can get us killed. Maybe you, maybe Woyzeck, maybe me, but three of us not possible.
– Not exactly right, you could…
– Don‘t give him ideas, Woyzeck! See, he‘s raving mad now.
– Warlord! Fucking warlord!
– Pass me the bottle, Woyzeck, quickly, hurry.
As Woyzeck tries to reach for the bottle, which was left by the end of the pole, something appears in the hole. Zigmund rushes to it.
– Now what this idiot going to do?!
– Forgive me my heavenly father, but this asshole is bringing it here!
– Partners in crime, I present you – what‘s your name, dear?
– Zigmund! What the hell are you doing?! You know she will not survive here!
– We‘ll see, we have time, and cactus juice. Whisky? Do you want some whisky, dear? No? Then maybe you can answer one question? Shit!
Zigmund jumps to the side, letting his hostage half-loose.
– I told you, you idiot.
– Why she‘s…he‘s…why?! What the fuck?!
– Because that‘s what happens to things of the hole, if they‘re not in the right place. I warned you.
– Are you one of them, old fool?!
– As you and Joseph, and – yes – me, are.
– Can‘t be right, I don‘t believe you. Now you‘re fucking with me for real!
– I bet you‘d wish.
– Calm down, both of you. Let it go. Ziggy, let it go!
– Fuck! Just fuck!
– Easy here. Woyzeck, pass me…oh, right , it‘s here. Take a sip, Ziggy.
Zigmund drowns half the bottle down.
– I should have shot it. I should have shot it.
– Papi.
– Yes, son.
Zigmund still shaking, just stares at the hole, till he drops.
Now again just two workers drink, as one lies with his back in the sand. Desert drones.
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