July 20, 2019:
           Reporter Carl Lennox swatted irritably at the little strip on his lapel.  Ironically, he mumbled, “They can put a man on the Moon, but they can’t invent a microphone lapel that fits properly.”   He finally slapped the microphone back into place and concentrated on the scene before him:  a small cluster of people gathered on a remote atoll in the tropical Pacific.    Closest was his producer, the young, annoyingly enthusiastic, but admittedly competent man preparing the camera assembly.   Beyond him, a trio of Polynesian women: two young and one elderly.  The old woman was speaking to her two granddaughters.   Carl  looked on them curiously, for the excitable ladies were quite a contrast to their serene grandmother.   Beyond them, toward the shore, was an old man reclining in a lawn chair.    He had been glancing out into the calm sea, where the Sun had just risen a couple of hours before.  The reporter couldn't make up his mind about the elderly gentleman. He was obviously a loner type.   Ever since they all boarded the plane in Honolulu en route to Wake Island, the old man had spoken little, preferring instead to smile faintly and nod whenever spoken to.   He spent most of the time staring off into the distance.   

          Carl tried to ignore the resentment welling up in him.    Of all the places to commemorate the 50th anniversary of the Apollo 11 moon landing, this venue was the least desirable.  Wake Island:  the closest piece of land to the spot where the Apollo 11 craft splashed down into the ocean.   Weeks before the anniversary, the boss, seated bravely in his penthouse amongst the perils of comfortable furniture and rich foods,  had the inspired notion of broadcasting a segment from this uncelebrated atoll in the vast Pacific.   "If you could find a couple of people who remember the event for recollection purposes, all the better.    We'll fly you all out there in time for the 20th.  It would be good to have shots of the Pacific in the background, so that means you have to go to the beach part of the island, Carl.  Having a moon in the shot would be even better.  Make it happen and don't pillage the expense account." 

         Predictably elated by the prospect, his producer promptly searched and found two such people:  a man who said he was in  NASA's mission control during the Apollo program and an elderly Polynesian woman who merely told him she remembered the event and would be delighted to accompany them to the island, provided she could bring her granddaughters.  After a refreshing conversation of grumbling and spittle -and revealing that one of the granddaughters was a doctor, which might come in handy- the boss agreed to her terms.  "It will give it a more cosmopolitan flavor, anyway."

         So the rest of the world prepared for the half century celebration with festivals, parades, and a ceremony involving the remaining Apollo astronauts and those chosen to return to the Moon in two years.  Meanwhile,  Carl and the motley crew flew off and were soon on Wake Island beach, displaced from human society.  

            "Paying my dues," Carl muttered as the producer trotted over to him.

            "Got a flash from Atlanta, Carl," the producer said cheerfully.  "They want us on in 10 minutes."

           "That soon?!  Why?"

           "Central Park feed is messed up and they need filler."

           "No!" he spouted angrily.   

          "Good.  I'll flash to Atlanta and then get everyone ready."

          "Wonderful, Frank.  You'll have to wake the old guy up. Looks like he fell asleep again."

          "Will do."

          "Wait," Carl shouted at him, scanning the sky.  "Didn't Bootface want the Moon in the shot. Where is it?"

          "Just set a few minutes ago. Waning Gibbous they tell me.  Don't know.  I think I failed that class, actually."

       Frank Simonds needed only five minutes to gather the four people around.    When summoned, the ladies came forth at once.  The only difficulty was in rousing the man from his sleep.    Fortunately, the patient Frank Simonds coaxed him away from his chair and guided him over to the three ladies.  Visibly uncomfortable, the old man shifted his feet and couldn't make eye contact.   The young women's attempts to engage him with warm greetings elicited little more than a quick nod and a gulp.    The old woman then whispered to her granddaughter, who promptly went to a nearby open satchel and fetched a container.    She quickly returned and  poured a green juice into two cups.  She handed one to her grandmother and the other to the old man.  



         "I think we're good, Carl," Frank called over, as Carl hastily scribbled some notes.  "They're having a drink and getting to know each other.  If we're lucky, the old girl spiked it with something.   That's always good for making shy people talk.    In a minute, we can start fitting them with the mikes."

         "Yeah, yeah," Carl answered absent-mindedly, his eyes not shifting away from the notepad.  "Do you think Atlanta can wait another five damn minu..."



MAHINA: (runs hastily away, dropping cup)  Leave me alone!



SEBASTIAN:  What do you mean?!



MAHINA:  (Despite the fact that it is now nighttime, she quickly spies  a nearby hedge and frantically moves to hide herself inside it.) I said leave me alone!



SEBASTIAN: (Chasing after her and dropping his cup.)   What did I....

(Suddenly stops and looks around.   He is panicked by the rapid loss of sunlight)  Oh, God!  (covers then quickly uncovers his eyes.)    What's going on? Why is it dark?!  (With his hand on his cheek Sebastian squints and sees a moonlit cloud over the ocean.  While Mahina cowers under the hedge, he focuses on the cloud until he's satisfied that he's not losing his sight.) I must have fallen asleep.   I do that a lot.   



MAHINA:  Go away! 



SEBASTIAN: (irritated)  Fine!  (waves at the hedge) For your information,  I have no intention of getting anywhere ne....(now that his eyes are adjusting to the low light level, he can see his hands.  Taut, unwrinkled skin; he moves them without difficulty.  He touches his face again.  Again, no wrinkles.    He screams unintentionally, causing Mahina to shake and push herself deeper into concealment.   Sebastian bolts to the nearby shore and looks into the water. Though the image is faint, he sees a reflection of a man he was decades before.   The next scream he emits doesn't make the unnerved Mahina feel any more at ease.  He rushes away from the shore.)



SEBASTIAN: (jutting his head abruptly into the hedge):  What the hell did you put in that drink?!



MAHINA: (almost in tears):   Go away!



SEBASTIAN: (quickly withdraws out the hedge):  Sorry.   You're frightened.  It's ok.  I'm frightened, too...  (scrutinizes the back of his hand with awe) ...but not as frightened as I should be. (feels his arms - firm and solid: something they haven't been in years.) Let's see, now (feels his chest, rubs the muscles, stops as he feels the heart beating quickly, but strongly.)   A little more...(feels the stomach, also taut.  ventures gingerly at the belt level and then halts, casts a furtive glance down and changes his mind)  There is such a thing as too much delusion.   (Stumbles forward and finds a rock jutting out the sand)  I need to sit down.



(As the young man catches his breath, the  waning crescent moon emerges from behind the cloud, casting the terrain in a dull, white light.   There again is the same beach where he was standing as an old man only a few moments before.   He looks around, trying to find the others:  the  reporter, camera guy, and two other women.    All of them are gone.    The world is steeped in an eerie silence broken only by the rhythmic ebb and flow of the gentle tide.    Sebastian speaks in strained tones to the hedge.)



SEBASTIAN:  I'm assuming I'm dreaming.    This is not real.   I am actually sleeping in a chair on the beach waiting for that obnoxious reporter to call me over.   You're not real, either.   You're like a dream witch, conjured by my aging fancy and formed of air or something like that.   Please don't be offended.  You might not like being called a dream witch, but right now I'm not going to have the best choice of words.   Now, I know you want me to leave you alone, but I think I have to keep talking, so I can calm myself down because, I don't know about you, but I'd rather not panic, if you know what I mean.     So, I promise to keep my distance, but let me keep talking...



(Mahina emerges from concealment.    In the light, she reveals herself to be a remarkably lovely young woman, perhaps in her early twenties.   As opposed to her initial cowering posture, she is now walking confidently in the open,  within full sight of Sebastian.)



SEBASTIAN:   What?  You're not scared of me anymore?



MAHINA: (casting a quick glance at the uncovered moon)   You can't hurt me now.



SEBASTIAN:  I wasn't going to hurt you before.   Well, then, welcome to my dream.  As a favor, give me warning when you're about to transform into Sister Agnes with fire eyes and razor teeth.



MAHINA:  We're not dreaming.



SEBASTIAN: (dubious)  How do you know?



MAHINA: (calmly) I know.



SEBASTIAN:  For the sake of my nerves, tell me I'm also not dead. 



MAHINA:  We are neither dead or dreaming.



SEBASTIAN:  Then, I'd like to know how it is possible to have been old a minute ago and now this. (Regards her curiously.)  How did that happen?



MAHINA:  It doesn't matter.



SEBASTIAN:  (slightly annoyed at her philosophical attitude)   Does to me, actually! It was daytime, and we were about to go on camera...actually, I don't think they use that term anymore.    They were going to ask us about the Moon.  Yes! (Sebastian stands up again with a jump.)  That's it! You must remember!



(Mahina moves away, this time calmly and slowly, to a nearby rock.  She gently pulls a flower from the ground and weaves it above her left ear.  Sebastian remains standing as Mahina then hoists herself up to the rock ledge and sits down.  She is now a silhouette before the rising crescent moon.)



SEBASTIAN:   It was about the Moon.  (proudly)  You see, my people have been to the Moon!



MAHINA: (unimpressed)  I've been to the Moon.


SEBASTIAN: (shocked)  You what?



MAHINA:  I've been to the Moon many times.   I first went as a girl.   



SEBASTIAN:  (smirking) How did you do that?



MAHINA: When the Moon came to rest beside the summit of a nearby mountain, my dream spirit would climb the mountain and then over to the Moon shores. 



SEBASTIAN:  Hmm, well, I assume that would work.    (humoring her.)    So, what was it like?



MAHINA:     The first time I walked into the ivory palace.  All I  could hear was the echo of my footsteps.   The ceilings were high and I could see the writings of the ancients scrawled across the wall, lit by the silver torches.      I was scared and weeping for my mother    The queen came and cradled me. She told me that the Moon was a safe land and there should be no sadness in it.    She whistled a song that her mother once sang to her.   She whistled until I smiled and was no longer sad or afraid.



SEBASTIAN:  (uncomfortably)   That was good of her.



MAHINA:  She told me that I would always find peace there and asked me to return whenever I could.   She would teach me harmonies and weaving and to care for the lost children whose sorrow on Earth finds remedy and comfort on the Moon. 

                (Mahina looks toward the crescent moon looming above the first faint hints of twilight and lapses into silence.)



SEBASTIAN: (anxiously tugs on his ear and allows a moment of silence to pass unbroken before speaking.)   Well, when I said that my people went to the Moon, I didn't mean me, personally, of course.   I haven't been to the Moon.  Wanted to.   That was all I thought of when I first heard that they were going to try it.     I really wanted to go into space. But I wasn't an astronaut.   That made it difficult, you see.  Now, of course, they're sending people into space all the time if they have the money.   Even if I had the money, I am too old...(looks again at his fingers) or was.     



(Sebastian looks up at Mahina.  As he can't see her face, he's not sure she's listening, but continues to talk anyway.) 



SEBASTIAN:  The greatest enterprise of humanity: that's how they used to talk about it.  They don't talk that way, anymore.  I always did. From the moment that JFK, our president -which is like our king, I suppose- told the world that we were going to the Moon, I knew it was going to work.   We were going to achieve it.  Well, again, not me.   Lots of people didn't think it would work.  Many laughed at the whole thing, but you never saw that in the lunar landing film strips.   They didn't show a lot of things:  the contractors who did the work, but thought it was folly; the other who said it was a waste of resources considering all that was happening on Earth.   There was plenty happening, just like now.    "They can't do it!"  That's what some of my relatives used to say to me when I would discuss it with them.  "So, don't bother that you're not part of it."

           They were trying to comfort me.   You see, I tried to join NASA, but didn't have the qualifications.    Yes, I lied to that producer when I told him I was in mission control.  I was, in fact, in mission control, but it was as part of a tour group.   But, I was there!  I saw the computers and the people and some the equipment. It was like seeing the Santa Maria in dock.    I remember I wanted to take something. A little thin: a piece of what would be the most magnificent voyage in world history.  I couldn't, of course.  One of the reasons they go to the Moon was that they prevented thousands of people from taking pieces of their equipment as souvenirs.  Am I boring you?





MAHINA:  (softly speaking toward the Moon.)   I can hear you.



SEBASTIAN:  Because, if I am boring you, you can stop me from talking.    I know I shouldn't have lied, but when they were looking for someone to recollect the moon voyage on the 50th anniversary I decided that here was my last chance to actually be part of the history.  That producer fellow was delighted that he found me

and asked me if I wanted to come out to Wake Island for a special tribute.   To be honest, I had no idea where Wake Island was or why it was important.    They said it was the closest landmass to the point where the astronauts landed.   Strange, but, I said I’d go, though I remember the trip was exhausting.  Part of that exhaustion was guilt.  But, what did it matter:   I was finally getting my chance to be part of it.  

(Looking up at Mahina after a moment)   I missed all of it originally, you know.



MAHINA:  (whispering toward the Moon):  Yes.



SEBASTIAN:  The week leading up to the launch I couldn't sleep. Not a win.  I kept walking around my apartment, around my block. The Moon was always on my mind.  That wasn't because of media hype, either.  Back then, they didn't have news all the time. I didn't have a TV, anyway. From the moment that Apollo 11 launched, I was always looking up in the sky.   I kept thinking,  'They're out there somewhere: beyond the blue and the black is the first odyssey to another world.   Boundless Olympian skies punctured.'  Maybe I couldn't have been part of it, but I knew I needed to see it.  Not the broadcasts, but the Moon.  I would look upon the Moon while humanity was walking upon it.  Seeing the coverage was not that big of a deal for me, except I wanted to see the astronaut step out for the first time.  I called my folks to ask if I could watch it there.   My dad thought the whole thing a waste, but told me I could watch it, provided that he didn't have to.   "Dad, the whole world will be watching!  Hells Bells, history will be watching. The shades of the Caesars, Pharohs and Kings, all marveling at the United State for a bold quest that none of them could have ever conceived of!  And, we'll see it live."

All he said to that was "I'm glad you found that apartment of yours, son."    He didn't understand, you see.



MAHINA:  I do



SEBASTIAN: (walking by the shore, suddenly agitated)  Which is why, when I finally collapsed into sleep at noon on July 20, nobody thought to call me or check on me.   They probably didn't even flick on the infernal tv to see the landing.  It was just another day to them! 

I just slept, you see. I had been awake for so long that it finally caught up with me.     When they landed, I slept. When Neil Armstrong set foot on the soil and screwed up his line, I slept;  while the breathless millions saw it all unfold, I slept.    (he sits down by the water and rubs his face quickly.)   Can you believe it?  After all that waiting.  I was so exhausted, I slept all the way through until the next afternoon.   The Apollo 11 crew were only there for about 21 hours, so by the time I woke up and realized to my horror what had happened, they had already...well, you can guess.  I was distraught for so long.   I raced outside, but didn't see the Moon.  It was a morning crescent and by that time, was setting.  Retreating orb in hazy blue sky over the buzzing golden field.  The moment lost forever.    I think I tried to write a poem about it, but never bothered.   I wasn't much good at that sort of thing.



(Sebastian rests his face on his knees and breathes deeply.) 



MAHINA:  How old were you?



SEBASTIAN: (lifting up his face)  I'm sorry?



MAHINA:  What was her expression?



SEBASTIAN:  Whose expression?



(Mahina turns away from Sebastian and looks directly at the moon.  She whistles softly and adjusts the flower in her ear.  Sebastian repeats his last question, but she doesn't seem to hear.    She squints into the brightening eastern twilight and continues to whistle.   Sebastian looks down at the beach and is suddenly lost in thought.)



SEBASTIAN:  How old was I?   Well, that's easy.    What's 86 minus 50?   That's how old I was.   Two years younger than Neil Armstrong, I remember that much.  I don't see what difference it makes.  Maybe I was too old to be that wrapped up in it so much, but that's just my personality.  Maudlin and dramatic.  Being that way has enriched my life: Just ask my three ex-wives.  What else did you want to know?   Her expression.   Now, I have no idea what that means.   Give me a hint?



(Mahina remains silent except for the whistling.)



SEBASTIAN:  How about a verbal hint?



(After a moment, Sebastian follows her gaze and notices the crescent Moon quite a distance above the reddening horizon.)


SEBASTIAN:  Her face? (Looks up at Mahina and points to the sky.)  You mean HER expression? Her face?  (Thinking for a moment.) Maybe you mean 'phase.'  Well, let's see, what did I say?  Morning crescent, which is waning crescent, if I'm not mistaken.   Wait a second!  (casts a sharp glance at the sky.) A morning Moon....(looks down at himself.)  36?    Hey! (Recklessly, he climbs to the rock top to join Mahina.  She doesn't move.)  What did you say you were when you went to the Moon?  You said when you were a girl and traveled to the Moon you were something  What was it?



(Mahina whistles and doesn't look at him.)



SEBASTIAN: (to himself)  So helpful.  Fine!  I can do this myself.   Earlier, I called you a dream witch, but that was wrong.  First it was impolite, but then you said you were a dream sp...Oh, you've got to be kidding.  (leans in close to her face and whispers)  Is that right?!  (her lips curl into a slight smile)  I'm just a....(scrutinizes himself again and winces.)...all of me?!     (shakes his head)  Lovely! Well, ok, fine.  Considering the kind of day THIS has been.   I suppose I'm one of those slow dream spirits.  Takes me fifty years to catch up.  Typical of me, actually.  (He then sits next to her, his attention focuses on the Moon above the reddening twilight.)   So, there they are right now.  Neil and Buzz.


(A reverent minute elapses.   Neither of them speak.  Sebastian smiles with both joy and disbelief.  Mahina stops whistling and closes her eyes.)



SEBASTIAN:  All right, then! (abruptly stands up with a laugh)   There's not much to see is there?  (Finally turns away from the Moon and looks down at her.)   I suppose I should thank you, then, shouldn't I, clever girl?



(Mahina opens her eyes and glances up at him.) 



SEBASTIAN: The Moon is right over there, you know.



(Smiling, he extends a hand to her.)



SEBASTIAN:  What are we waiting for?  The voyage should be short work for us dream spirits.



(Mahina stands up, her mood suddenly happy.    She places one hand in his and with the other extracts the flower from her hair and moves it toward him.)



MAHINA: You'll need to put this on.  Don't worry, we're



"...just going to have a conversation."
Carl fumbled with the lapel microphone and finally fixed it properly.  "Sorry about that.  Damn things!"

"We need to do a sound check," Frank said, looking into his camera.

"Ok," the reporter replied, as he turned back to Sebastian. "We're going to check the microphone.  Just say something.  Anything you like, so we can make sure the audio level is right."

Sebastian looked around at the bright, beautiful day and the small gathering of people in the vicinity:  the irritable reporter; friendly camera operator, the two lovely young women and their grandmother regarding him kindly.    After coughing slightly, he bent his head down toward the microphone and spoke.

        "Could I have some more of that juice?"