Self in Duplicate

image borrowed from theshakespeareblog.com

Self in Duplicate

“To be able to look back upon one’s past lives

with satisfaction is to live twice.”--Lord Acton.

I remember my last professional gig as an actor, 1977, in the

stifling heat of January at the Mirnerva Theatre in Sydney,

Australia, in the heart of King’s Cross, sitting on a catwalk

20 feet above the stage watching pal Keenan Wynn faking

his way through a scene from a lightweight off-Broadway

comedy, frustrating his co-star, Jane Kean, of HONEYMOONERS

fame; him the victim of a hearing impairment & a terrible memory.

I had a nothing part as a cab driver, with 20 minutes to kill before

my next entrance. Someone sat down beside me--a very large man

with long hair & a swept back pompadour, jet black with silver wings

on the sides. He wore white pancake on his face, made up like a

Mime, with white eyelids & bright red lipstick. He had a large bronze

pendant of Buddha around his neck, his white Nehru shirt open to

his navel, orange tights & tall black leather boots.

“Hey,” I mumbled.

Hey, yourself, Glenn.

“Do I know you?”

Are you kidding, Slick? We have been friends for your whole life,

& the two others before that.

“What are talking about?”

Before this you were a writer of Gothic fiction; pretty successful too.

“Really? What was my name?”

Trevor Hardwicke. The life before that, you were an Irish laborer

working on the first subway line in New York City; died in a cave-in

at 33, left a wife & five kids. One of them became a doctor.

“So what are you called?”

Mathias, it’s always been Mathias, remember--I was Laertes to your

Hamlet right here in this theater.

“Come on, I’ve never been here before two weeks ago.”

Your Hamlet was the talk of Sydney for months, & your Henry V

was excellent; but you played Macbeth for two years straight.

“And you were?”

Macduff, of course. I really enjoyed killing you several times a week.

“But how can this be?”

Because as an old soul you chose to live in two overlapping

dimensions at the same time, born on the same day, with identical

death days. We are sitting on the edge of the overlap right now.

“Christ, this blows my mind.”

Do you want to know more about the other You?

“So I’m a fucking psychic twin?”

Actually at this point your personalities are legion on

multiple planes, & your coat of colors is blinding bright.

I could hear Keeno fluffing a major line with Jane Kean,

“Sorry, man, but I have to split & get out on stage.”

Take your time. He’s jumped ten pages. The last act will

have to be improvised.

I started to climb down a ladder to a lower catwalk,

“Will I see you later?”

Sure, you can’t help yourself.

I looked up & he was gone. I only saw him one other time

during some meditation twenty years later. He waved & 

winked, but said nothing.

There’s never enough

years in one lifetime to reach

real success times two.

Glenn Buttkus

Posted over on dVerse Poets Pub "Poetics"