Epilogue III

NOT THE FIRST, NOT THE LAST

FADE IN:

EXT. PARK - LATE AFTERNOON - AUTUMN

Rain threatens. Gray skies hang low over nearly empty park benches.

It had been years since Synergos last saw Haplous, but there he was, sitting on a bench in the park, staring at nothing in particular. A damp paper coffee cup rests beside him, its contents long gone. His coat is a little too thin for the weather, his hair a little too unkempt, but his posture is relaxed, like a man who has nothing left to rush for.

Synergos almost walks past him, but something makes him stop.

                    SYNERGOS

          Haplous?

Haplous turns, blinks twice, then breaks into a slow grin.

                    HAPLOUS

          Well, well. Look at you. Still

          carrying the weight of the world?

                    SYNERGOS

                    (smirking)

          After you got kicked out for

          drinking, I only lasted a few

          more months.

                    HAPLOUS

                    (raising an eyebrow, amused)

          Yeah? I always figured you weren't

          doing much anyway.

                    SYNERGOS

          Oh?

                    HAPLOUS

          You always carried that bunch of

          papers around like a shield. I could

          tell you weren't actually working

          on anything – just shuffling them to

          look busy.

                    (chuckling)

          And come on, Synergos. Nobody even

          uses papers anymore.

                    SYNERGOS

                    (exhaling, shaking his head)

          Well, you weren't wrong. They kind of

          phased me out. Some younger guys came

          in, I wasn't really needed anymore.

          And to be honest...

                    (shrugging)

          For a while, I was just pushing

          papers around.

                    HAPLOUS

          Of course you were. What else was

          there to do?

Synergos shakes his head again. The air is damp, and the sky is already bruising with the early signs of rain. He stuffs his hands into his coat pockets.

                    SYNERGOS

          What about you? What have you been up to?

Haplous stretches his legs out, sighing like a man without much to complain about, but even less to boast about.

                    HAPLOUS

          Oh, you know. A little of this, a

          little of that. Turns out being a

          college professor and a monk doesn't

          train you for much. Did some odd jobs.

          I'm heading to Alberta tonight – got

          a bus ticket. The weather is great in

          those parts, and I've got a friend I'm

          sure I can land a job with over the winter.

Synergos nods, then after a beat:

                    SYNERGOS

          Look, if you've got time before your

          bus, I could drive you over to McDonald's.

          We could get something to eat.

Haplous hesitates.

                    SYNERGOS

          My treat.

                    HAPLOUS

                    (smirking)

          Well, since you put it that way.

                    (glancing up at the sky)

          And look at those clouds.

They start walking toward Synergos' car, the pavement already darkening with fresh rain.

EXT. WALKING TO THE CAR - CONTINUOUS

As they walk, Synergos hesitates, then turns to Haplous.

                    SYNERGOS

          Hey, I was just wondering… after, uh,

          you had that problem… did you ever

          get any help?

                    HAPLOUS

                    (squinting)

          Help? What kind of help?

                    SYNERGOS

          You know… support?

                    HAPLOUS

          Financial?

                    SYNERGOS

          No, no. I mean... like, treatment?

Haplous stops walking and blinks at him.

                    HAPLOUS

          For what?

                    SYNERGOS

                    (leaning in, lowering his voice)

          The drinking, Haplous.

                    HAPLOUS

                    (chuckling, shaking his head)

          Ah. That. You know, Synergos, people

          like to believe they're steering the

          ship. But the river doesn't ask the

          boat which way it wants to go. I drink

          when I drink. I stop when I stop. No

          big story to it.

                    SYNERGOS

                    (frowning slightly)

          So you don't think it matters?

                    HAPLOUS

          Sure, everything matters. But you have

          to see reality for what it is. Suppose

          someone in the monastery organization

          wanted me out, and yes, I do indulge a

          little bit more than the average monk,

          and maybe that was just what they used

          to justify firing me. So all things

          considered, maybe that's a problem,

          maybe it's not.

                    (grinning)

          Now let's get that burger. Before the

          universe makes the choice for us.

IINT. CAR/EXT. MCDONALD'S DRIVE-THRU - NIGHT

The windshield wipers flick back and forth as Synergos pulls into the McDonald's parking lot. The golden arches buzz in the wet night, neon reflections stretching out over the pavement. The drive-thru speaker crackles.

                    DRIVE-THRU VOICE

                    (garbled)

          Welcome to McDonald's. Order when ready.

Haplous studies the menu with the careful attention he once gave to ancient texts.

                    HAPLOUS

          The humble cheeseburger. A perfect 

          example of pattern recognition across 

          cultures. I'll take one, with large 

          fries and a Coke. A real Coke.

                    (with warm nostalgia)

          Reminds me of those late nights at 

          the monastery when we'd sneak into 

          the kitchen.

Synergos smiles at the memory.

                    SYNERGOS

          One side salad and a Diet Coke.

                    HAPLOUS

                    (with gentle amusement)

          You've always been more disciplined 

          than the rest of us. Even in the small 

          things.

                    SYNERGOS

          Someone had to balance you out.

                    (smiling)

          It's why we worked well together.

                    HAPLOUS

                    (nodding)

          Different templates, same framework.

They pull up to the window. A teenager in a cap and headset hands them the bags without a word. The rain drums harder against the roof of the car as Synergos drives to an empty corner of the parking lot. The smell of fries fills the car, as Haplous carefully arranges his meal on the wrapper, finding order in the mundane.

                    HAPLOUS

          So, what have you been doing since

          the monastery? Besides pushing papers,

          I mean.

                    SYNERGOS

          I wrote down the dialogues. You know,

          what we used to talk about.

                    HAPLOUS

                    (raising an eyebrow)

          And?

                    SYNERGOS

          Posted them online. Sent some emails.

          Even cold-emailed some neuroscience

          researchers.

Haplous nearly chokes on a fry.

                    HAPLOUS

          You what? You actually emailed

          neuroscientists? And let me guess—

                    SYNERGOS

          Nothing. No responses. Not a single one.

Haplous grins, shaking his head.

                    HAPLOUS

          Well, maybe if you had some credentials,

          like having taught at an Ivy League

          school…

                    SYNERGOS

                    (frowning)

          But you have, so why haven't you

          gotten the word out?

                    HAPLOUS

          Oh, Synergos.

Haplous leans back against the headrest, takes a long sip of his Coke.

                    HAPLOUS

               The cardinal is my friend, and he thought

              the monastery would be good for me. I

              spoke something like an Ivy League

              professor, so he put that in his letter.

              I had no idea. Those letters are totally

          confidential. I didn’t find out until years

              later. But you know what’s funny? Before the

             monastery, I had the framework, but I was

              working it out alone. Then suddenly, because

              of one letter, I was ‘Professor Haplous.’ And in that

             brief, shining space, the framework wasn’t just mine

             anymore. It resonated. It had another voice shaping it,

          challenging it, carrying it forward.

                    SYNERGOS

                    (blinking)

          Wait… what?

                    HAPLOUS

                    (grinning)

          You heard me. The cardinal put it in

          there, but there is no truth to it,

          I've never taught in the Ivy League.

Beat. The windshield wipers click rhythmically against the rain.

                    SYNERGOS

                    (staring at him)

          So did you teach somewhere?

                    HAPLOUS

          Never even got a degree. Does it make

          a big difference?

                    SYNERGOS

                    (processing, then smiling)

          No actually, now that you mention it.

          It doesn't make any difference.

                    HAPLOUS

          It was serendipitous, maybe. We really

          did have some shining moments, and maybe

          it was that whole aura that the cardinal

          created with that letter that led to

          what we did.

Synergos is silent. The rain outside seems louder now, drumming against the roof.

                    HAPLOUS

                    (popping another fry into his mouth)

          Funny, huh? The letter gave me authority,

          and that is so important for people,

          isn't it, much more than the truth, or

          whether things make sense.

There is a pause as Synergos thinks. Haplous continues taking bites out of his burger.

                    HAPLOUS

          I'm glad you tried.

Synergos looks at him, surprised.

                    HAPLOUS

          Most people wouldn't have. That's the

          thing, Synergos. You throw a rock in a

          pond, sometimes the ripples don't go far.

          But that doesn't mean the rock didn't

          hit the water.

They eat in silence for a while, the rain streaking down the windows, the neon glow of the McDonald's sign flickering through the wet glass. Haplous takes a long sip of his Coke.

                    HAPLOUS

          You know, it's kind of funny. You wrote

          it all down, sent it out into the world,

          and got nothing back. Meanwhile, I never

          wrote anything, never sent a word, and

          here I am eating fries in a parked car.

                    SYNERGOS

          So what's the moral of that story?

                    HAPLOUS

          None. That's the thing about stories,

          Synergos. They only have morals if you

          force them.

A pause. The rain taps against the windshield. Haplous wipes his fingers on a napkin and stares out at the wet streets.

                    HAPLOUS

          Oh, see? There's the bus stop.

                    SYNERGOS

          I'll pull over.

Synergos eases the car forward and parks near the shelter. They sit for a moment, listening to the rain. Then, without a word, Haplous pushes the door open and steps out. Synergos hesitates, then follows.

EXT. BUS STOP – NIGHT

The two of them stand beneath the awning, the streetlights casting long shadows. The rain patters around them. Haplous gives a dry, rattling cough. Synergos glances at him, frowning.

                    SYNERGOS

          I think I'll wait with you for a bit.

          If you don't mind.

                    HAPLOUS

                    (sniffing, shrugging)

          Suit yourself.

They stand in silence, watching the rain.

                    SYNERGOS

                    (hesitantly)

          You ever think about those days at the

          monastery? When we'd sit under that old

          oak and everything seemed to make sense?

                    HAPLOUS

                    (with a distant look)

          That place... it was like time folded

          in on itself. Like we found a pocket

          where the world couldn't reach us.

                    SYNERGOS

          Sometimes I wonder if it even happened.

          If we really saw what we thought we saw.

                    HAPLOUS

                    (smiling faintly)

          It happened, Synergos. Not all treasures

          get to be displayed in museums. Some only

          exist in the moment, then disappear.

                    (looking at the rain)

          But that doesn't make them any less real.

                    SYNERGOS

          I tried to tell people. Nobody wanted

          to hear it.

                    HAPLOUS

                    (nodding)

          That's how you know it was special.

          The world wasn't ready for it. Maybe

          never will be. But for a little while,

          we were there. We saw it.

The distant glow of headlights flickers across the wet pavement, growing brighter.

                    SYNERGOS

          Haplous… do you think the framework

          is real?

Haplous turns slightly, considering him. The bus's headlights pierce through the night. Then, just as it seems he's about to step forward, he exhales and shakes his head.

                    HAPLOUS

          There'll be other buses. Sit down,

          Synergos. Opposing benches. You want

          to know why I was the first? I'm going

          to tell you exactly why.

The bus hisses to a stop, but neither of them moves. The moment stretches. Then, as the bus pulls away without them, Haplous begins to speak.

                    HAPLOUS

          We talked in the dialogues about the

          mistaken impressions. How people see

          their own minds in reverse, how they

          mistake perception for input, how they

          think their memories are stored, like files,

          instead of being rebuilt each time. No wonder 

          they can't see how the brain really works.

          But that's not really an answer, is it?

          Because here's the thing: I don't think

          I was the first one to see the framework.

          It's too simple. Too obvious. I'm sure

          other people have seen it before. Not a

          lot of people, but a few, here and there.

                    SYNERGOS

                    (watching him closely)

          Then why hasn't it caught on?

                    HAPLOUS

          Because it's not the kind of thing

          that spreads before the world is ready

          for it. Even you – you wrote it down,

          put it online, sent it to people who

          should've understood it. What happened?

Synergos is quiet.

                    HAPLOUS

          Exactly. You see, Synergos, the framework

          isn't hidden. It's just ignored. The mind

          is slippery. It doesn't like looking at

          itself too closely. Most people will turn

          away before they ever see it clearly.

                    SYNERGOS

                    (after a moment, softly)

          Does that make you sad?

Haplous smiles, shaking his head.

                    HAPLOUS

          Once you understand the framework, you

          realize there's nothing to be sad about.

          And nothing to be arrogant about either.

          Life isn't for recognition, or proving

          you're right. It's for enjoying. For sharing.

Synergos lets out a breath. He hadn't expected to feel this light. For a while, they just sit there, listening to the rain.

                    HAPLOUS

          I never put the framework together for

          recognition. I just wanted to solve the

          question. And I did. It doesn't matter

          if it's not accepted now – it surely

          will be. Because I see it clearly. And

          I know it's right.

Haplous stands up, stretching, looking down the street. A new bus is approaching in the distance, headlights cutting through the wet night.

                    HAPLOUS

          So, no, I don't think I was the first

          one to see the framework.

He glances back at Synergos, smiling.

                    HAPLOUS

          And I won't be the last.

The bus pulls up, hissing as the doors swing open. Haplous steps inside, disappearing into the dim light.

Synergos sits a moment longer. The streetlamp flickers. The night stretches out, empty and endless.

And then, finally, he stands and walks back to his car, leaving nothing behind but footprints on the wet pavement.

FADE TO BLACK.

If you care to read another epilogue, you can go to Epilogue IV.