(The Other Sounds of Silence)
A brief tragedy in five scenes about the blindness of the man who sees everything.
SYNOPSIS: BAKIS OF BOEOTIA
Bakis of Boeotia is a psychological drama about the arrogance of knowledge and the fragility of truth. Bakis, an elite literature professor, possesses a gift that is also a curse: he can hear the thoughts of everyone around him. In his classroom, there are no secrets; in his building, there is no privacy. While he amuses himself by manipulating the lives of his students and unraveling a corruption scandal involving the university's director, Bakis becomes obsessed with the only person whose mind he cannot penetrate: his neighbor, Jonathan.
What Bakis perceives as a "peaceful lake of silence" is actually a trap. In this modern tragedy, Bakis will discover that being an omniscient narrator in a world of mortals does not protect you from betrayal; it only makes the silence of the truth more deafening.
BAKIS OF BOEOTIA
(The Other Sounds of Silence)
A brief tragedy in five scenes about the blindness of the man who sees everything.
© INDAUTOR
Cd. De México
Contact: bengavarre@gmail.com
gavarreunam@gmail.com
CHARACTERS
- BAKIS OF BOEOTIA (48): Literature Professor. Old-world elegance, modulated voice. Possesses a "quiet arrogance."
- JONATHAN (32): The neighbor. Attractive, serene. His presence is a wall against Bakis's gift.
- ÓSCAR (46): Assistant Professor. Nervous, always on the verge of emotional collapse.
- DIRECTOR MARGARET (55): Impeccable, cold. Her success is a mask for her envy toward the students.
- MANOLO (26): Aspiring concert musician hidden under a mechanic’s uniform.
- SOFÍA (21) and JERÓNIMO (21): Elite students. The only ones who matter in this plot of money and desire.
SCENE 1: THE VOICES OF THE NEIGHBORS
Setting: A hallway in an apartment building. Hopper-style aesthetic: long shadows, dense silence.
Sound: The distant hum of the elevator.
(Bakis searches for his keys with parsimony. Manolo leaves his apartment wearing a white mechanic's uniform stained with grease. His eyes are swollen).
MANOLO: (Hoarse) Neighbor... excuse me. Do you have a minute?
BAKIS: (Without looking at him, smiling) What’s playing in your head is the third movement of Brahms' Third. A bit funeral for someone as young as you, isn't it?
MANOLO: I... I wanted to ask for a loan.
BAKIS: (Pulls out some bills before Manolo finishes) Here. To pay for the dry cleaner. You ruined your father’s pristine shop uniform and had to get the stains out. He should understand that you can't be careful with the uniform… in a mechanic's shop, there are always greases, oils, solvents…
MANOLO: (Motionless) How… how do you know all that? Are you listening through the walls?
BAKIS: (Turns slowly, leaning against the door) I know how much you hate being a mechanic. You hate following in your father’s footsteps. You can't keep a uniform clean that isn't yours, that isn't for you. You are the victim of a sadistic tyrant and you know it. I know that suit burns your hands and that under your mattress, you have Brahms' scores instead of manuals on carburetors and crankshafts. I prefer Vivaldi; he’s less... guilt-ridden. And I certainly prefer him over crankshafts.
MANOLO: (Ashamed) My father says our work is in the blood. Tradition. And he wants me to take over his company… in the future.
BAKIS: I know. But a man must be what he tells himself when he’s alone, not what a castrating father wants, holding you tight like a screw. Car oil isn't for you; perhaps the oil for your wooden flute. Music is life.
MANOLO: You’ve heard me play? But how? I do it in… private.
BAKIS: I really like those Mozart-like improvisations… (Lowers his voice). And listen, stop punishing yourself for what you feel when you pass the haberdashery. That girl doesn't judge you; she’s waiting for you. Don't pay the dry cleaner, leave your uniform stained and use that money to take her out…
MANOLO: Me?... What if she rejects me?
BAKIS: She won't. She’s more in love with you than you think. Oh… and also, no less important: enroll in the Conservatory. Music needs people who can't live without it.
MANOLO: (Backing away) You are a strange and dangerous man, Professor. But thank you. You are also generous.
BAKIS: (Entering) I know you think so. I’m just a man who can’t close his ears. Enjoy the pistachio ice cream…
SCENE 2: THE VOICES IN THE CLASSROOM
Setting: A small university seminar room. Intimate, luxurious, and academic, with an electronic whiteboard.
BAKIS: (Walking around the table) The Omniscient Narrator is the greatest depravity in literature. He is a god who grants no free will. He knows what the adulteress had for breakfast and what the murderer desires before he picks up the knife. (Stops behind Jerónimo). Isn't that right, Jerónimo?
JERÓNIMO: (Jumping) Ah! Yes... I suppose, Professor.
BAKIS: Don't suppose. You know it. You’ve reviewed the answer to question three… seven times because you’re terrified that Sofía is more brilliant than you. Stop biting your nails; the lack of polish won't give you more points than you already have. It’s obscene that you are so ambitious.
SOFÍA: Professor, you shouldn't get into personal matters.
BAKIS: (Toward her) Oh, Sofía. Always the mediator. Maintaining that facade of lack of interest while in your head only Jerónimo’s name rings. But not as a rival, but as a question you don't dare to ask. "Will Jerónimo love me, or does he only see me as his eternal competition?"
SOFÍA: (Closes her laptop) Shut up! I don't like Jerónimo! And if I did, it’s a matter that only concerns the two of us.
BAKIS: Ah, did you hear that, student? She said an "Us" that includes you.
JERÓNIMO: Sofía… did you say "us" because you want us to be together?
SOFÍA: I’m sorry you found out this way…
JERÓNIMO: (Gets up and hugs Sofía, ignoring the professor) Sofía, I am eternally heading into your arms.
BAKIS: Bravo. In this classroom, nothing is private. Here we find out what souls want. Imagine living with someone who knows what you did... or what you desire. (Stops. Looks at the door before they knock. Opens it). Come in, Óscar. I present my only two students: millionaires, they love each other, they have each other, and for the moment, they are happy.
ÓSCAR: Yes, yes, great, but I came to…
BAKIS: I already know. Margaret is waiting for us in her office.
ÓSCAR: (Enters sweating) Yes, Bakis. How did you know...? The Director says it's urgent. The luxury cars...
BAKIS: (Calm) Another one was stolen. A BMW. They always steal the boys' cars, never the girls'. And Margaret is furious because she thinks no one cares about her management. Or she’s afraid they'll hold her responsible. Go ahead, Óscar. You sound like you have radio interference. It’s probably your anxiety, but it’s giving me a splitting headache.
SCENE 3: THE PRIDE OF THE MAN WHO KNOWS EVERYTHING
Setting: Margaret’s office. Intense light, designer furniture.
MARGARET: Three cars belonging to influential parents. All in less than two weeks. They left through the main gate. There are videos, but the thief or thieves wore disguises! You have to admit they were professionals!
ÓSCAR: Did they wear presidential masks?
MARGARET: Halloween ones. They bypassed the secret service… they vanished, literally, like ghosts.
BAKIS: (Legs crossed) They didn't vanish like ghosts. The secret service was mysteriously absent because "someone" called them away. And the thief, the sole accomplice, left through the main gate with duplicates.
MARGARET: (Stops) Duplicates? The keys were coded; only special copies could be made.
BAKIS: And they were made, weren't they? The keys were taken, copied, and returned to their place… Someone with the school’s master key opened the lockers, perhaps a high-ranking, somewhat perverse power figure who could enter the men's locker rooms without a problem… (Gets up and invades her space). It’s fascinating, Margaret. A woman with your success, hating and envying twenty-year-old boys. Is it because the cars are worth more than your thirty years of savings?
MARGARET: (Cold) I don't know what you’re talking about, sir.
BAKIS: "Professor," to you… And I wouldn't want to mention the smell of new leather that invades your dreams. The touch of the majestic steering wheel, that space designed for a comfort you never had within your reach. And yes, I do want to talk about the boarding house on Napoleon Street where the cars accumulate dust and envy. And finally, I’m talking about your husband, that handsome man who plans to leave you for a thirty-five-year-old woman and is using the money you’re making from the parts. How much for the BMW computer?
MARGARET: (Trembling) You... are delusional.
BAKIS: 65,000… wow, that’s a lot of money. I’m the man who hears your twisted plans, Director. The police will find the keys in the false bottom of your designer briefcase. That little "treat" you thought you deserved.
SCENE 4: THE MASTER AND HIS TRUSTED ASSISTANT
Setting: University hallway. Afternoon.
ÓSCAR: Margaret arrested... Bakis, you’re a genius. You made her so nervous she confessed. The anonymous email to the police was the clincher. It was you, for sure.
BAKIS: (With disdain) I ordered the chaos. Everyone got what they deserved. So many screams, so many obsessive thoughts, fear, resentment, violence… so much noise it exhausts me. But speaking of noise... turn yours off, Óscar.
ÓSCAR: What do you mean?
BAKIS: That boy. The one who messages you at midnight. Stop torturing yourself. He doesn't love you; he’s fascinated by the image you project in the classroom and proud he got your phone number. In his head, he only thinks about Marko. Marko about Sofía. Sofía about Jerónimo. And thanks to me, Jerónimo about Sofía. It’s a labyrinth of mirrors. And frankly, I’m tired of being aware of other people’s lives. It’s like doing someone else’s laundry. It’s too much. I have no one.
ÓSCAR: (Sincere) Yes, it’s too much. You live other people’s lives because you’re as lonely as a rat.
BAKIS: (Slight grimace) I already said it first, but it hurts to hear you say it out loud. Yes. It hurts anyway…. But look, I’ll tell you, even though you don't deserve it. I have a neighbor who intrigues me. His mind is a calm lake. No screams, no anguish, no desires. Only peace. That draws me in.
ÓSCAR: (Enigmatic smile) Jonathan? Yes... he must be someone very special. Goodnight, Bakis. I hope you find your peace.
BAKIS: How do you know...? Ah, I mentioned it by accident… I’m not well… I need to rest.
SCENE 5: A LOOK AT THE INEVITABLE FUTURE
Setting: Apartment hallway. Dim light. Bakis arrives at his door. Jonathan observes the stairwell.
BAKIS: Good evening, neighbor. Long, long day for me. How about you?
JONATHAN: (Without turning) Just doing my thing, neighbor. Things that concern me.
BAKIS: Would you like a drink? Red wine, sparkling. I know we don't know each other, but...
JONATHAN: I prefer the distant treatment of neighbors. It’s better that way.
BAKIS: (Approaches) Today there was a mess at work... thefts, arrests. I don't know why I’m telling you this. We only say "good morning," but I know you look at me intently when we pass. I’d like to know what you’re thinking. You never say anything.
JONATHAN: (Looks him in the eye for the first time. Imperturbable gaze). Does my silence bother you, or my gaze? Or does it terrify you that you can't hear my thoughts?
BAKIS: (His smile vanishes) I don't understand.
JONATHAN: Yes, you do. You invited me for a drink to try to "decode" me, didn't you? You want to get into my head to see why I can't be read.
BAKIS: (Intense) It’s just that there’s nothing to decode! You’re like a blank space. That attracts me. You give me peace and silence.
JONATHAN: (Tragic laugh) I don't give you peace or silence. I am and will be the worst of tortures for you. Because I don't read minds, Bakis. I see what’s going to happen. My gaze looks toward the future. And what will happen to you from today is inevitable. It’s almost like a tragedy, but no one dies.
BAKIS: What are you saying!
JONATHAN: Óscar. Your… colleague? Your faithful assistant? Your friend? Do you really think the "student" who talks to him at night exists? Óscar came here, to my house, while you were solving the theft of some high-end cars. He took refuge in my silence; I was destined for him and he for me. He came looking for you, his friend, and found his destiny.
BAKIS: (Feels the ground disappear) You... and Óscar? No... I know what he thinks... I know everything about him...
JONATHAN: (Implacable) You know nothing that I didn't want you to know. Your own pride blinds you. You sought to give advice to someone who didn't need it.
BAKIS: (Grabs him by the shoulders) Impossible! I know every one of his steps...
JONATHAN: No. You only heard false data; everything you heard was said by me. I caused the interference. You hear thoughts; I can modify them. I gave you what you wanted to hear so you would leave us in peace.
BAKIS: (Broken voice) I’ll step aside... but don't ignore me… help me. Help me silence so many voices.
JONATHAN: (With lethal compassion) I will, but it won't be as good as you think, at least not at first. Your destiny is absolute silence and absolute solitude. From now on, you will no longer hear other voices. Only your own. Over and over again. I don't know if you’ll like what you hear from yourself. I leave you in your old house... I have to go, and you already know with whom. Be at peace.
(Jonathan leaves the building and closes the door. The bolt sounds like a gunshot).
FINAL PHYSICAL STAGE DIRECTION: Bakis is left alone. His body collapses against the cold wall. He tries to close his eyes, concentrate, search for a voice, a whisper from some neighbor... nothing. Total silence. His keys fall with a metallic jingle. He slides down the wall until he is sitting on the hallway floor, small, empty.
BAKIS: This that I hear... is the silence. Why am I not at peace? Why do I need the noise to continue? Why?
QUICK BLACKOUT.
