Asia Duegray

Briefly: I'll say: there are three characters. Dr. Sam Hadley, who will go by Dr. Hadley sometimes and Sam Hadley sometimes and probably Sam sometimes. Next is Asia Duegray, she is a "resident" in the facility. Finally, we have David Felms. He's documenting the facility, its residents (Asia) and world reactions....

The scene begins with Sam and David walking down a sterile looking hallway. Everyone knows what it looks like if they think about it. It's a government testing facility...so. White bricks, white tiles...possible with forest green speckles in them. Or ebony. White lights. Gridded windows in resident doors. Labs. Cafeterias that match the color scheme of the floors. A combination of prison and school and your dentist's office....with the occasional surgery room. Visitor areas...no gift shops. Lots of people walking around with clip boards and blood samples and individuals dressed in jumpsuits with their heads hanging down.

They are heading to Asia's room.

Sam: We have a new resident. Got here two, three hours ago? Her name is Asia.
David: It would be perfect to follow here--start at the beginning. Can I see her?
Sam: We can go to her room. I have to break her in on everything. But don't bring all the bells and whistles. She's already in an overwhelming situation.
David: No. I'll just follow you with a hand camera.
Sam: She's down in the 200's I think. Martha! How's Kate doing? We pushed her kind of hard today.
Martha: She's fine. I couldn't get her to say much this afternoon. It's her son's birthday. I think that's what's making her upset.
Sam: I'll swing by later and see if there's something I can do. Thanks Martha.
David: Why the couple hours isolation at the very first?
Sam: Why have we left her alone for two hours?
David: Yeah.
Sam: Because she'll have been in a state that she wouldn't want anyone to see. It's a dignity thing. We try to keep that intact as much as possible. It's easier with kids. Hardest with adults. She falls somewhere in between...okay...206 is right. Where is my paper? Ah--okay. Forgot what they set as the code. Usually companions or maybe the wing doctor are the only ones to memorize this. We have each code recorded just in case something were to happen...anyways, a lot of people will know hers. 
David: She powerful?
Sam: We can't even measure how much yet.

***David opens the door at a 40 degree angle and the two slide into the small bedroom. The only furniture in the room is a bed, an easy chair underneath a barred window, a small set of shelves, and a card table close to the bed. They find Asia in the far right corner of the room, rocking, head buried in her knees. 

Sam: So this is your room, huh? You got a window. You're lucky.
Asia: stops rocking but doesn't lift head up.
Sam: I'm Dr. Hadley. I'm sure Max or Suki mentioned me. I supervise this facility. Do you know where you are, Asia?
Asia:
Sam: You're in New Jersey.
Asia: I'm where?
Sam: New Jersey.
Asia (stunned): How long was I out?
Sam: About two days. How are you feeling? Are you hungry, thirsty?
Asia: No.
Sam: You've been unconscious for forty eight hours. Are you sure?
Asia: I don't want anything.
Sam: I'd feel better if you came with David and I to eat something.
Asia: What is he doing?
David: Documenting. This is where they keep all the big wigs, so they sent me here to cover it.
Sam: Are you sure you won't even take a glass of water sweetheart?
Asia: I can't.
Sam: It looks like you've been down there for a while. Are you ready to get up? Let's at least get you in the chair...
Asia: Don't touch me!
Sam: It's okay, Asia. You don't need to be afraid of anyone here. This is a safe place for you. Let's just get you up...that's right, you're fine. What's all this shaky business? You're fine. It's been a hard couple of days huh? Getting  here is the hardest part, I promise..."
David turns camera off.
Sam: There we go. Is the chair comfortable? We wanted all of them to be comfortable. As a matter of fact, that's what I came here to talk about for a few minutes--your comfort is very important. You know why you are here. To be contained, yes...even studied. Beyond that you are here to be taken care of...


The end for now. There's a lot more in my head plus on paper.

......

Why, even when the pen is hanging over that now close cloud enabled by my hand that will do the judging, can I not write myself a Heaven?

It's Good (this is pretty bad)

It's good to have you lovely.
You have those:    
(sea shell ears)
And some:
(kindness in you)
And I think:
(you're like the inside of this sweater I'm wearing)
But when:
(I brought you roses)
You said:
(I love you deep as the ocean)
And I:
(gagged actually.)
However:
(It's good to have you lovely)

DIRECT ORDERS ANYONE?

Rock out like you're in a safe full of Debbie snacks on a planet where full and calories don't exist. Rock out like you are 87 and do not have prostate problems. Rock out like your boyfriends tongue was a mint leaf and your mouth bare nerves. Rock out like all the books smell of rain and banana bread. Rock out like a candy cannon's mouth was covered by the top of the biggest pillow case in the universe and Jesus was lighting the fuse. Rock out like you just received a three hour massage from your shadow that's right your shadow and you'll receive one every week until you can't--dance no more--like when death will be knocking at your door rock out like you have a death-proof force field around your house man and you can dance man and massages feel good man and rock out like the Atlantic ocean was full of honey, thunder, toffee, good break-downs, electric horses, raspberry tea and you were an Olympic swimmer man. Rock out like you and Plath are playing make believe and you are the kangaroo farmer. Rock out. It's it. Rock out.

Walls Should Not Be Blank:

This is for the kids that all have the same lunch box. Shake the dust.  For the folks who cannot enter a conversation without cutting into it. For the kids who want an i-pod nicer than the one they already have nicer than the one they got first. Shake the dust. This is for the man who lights a candle and his pain every morning after he sends his kids to school. For the lady who only wears blue. For the women with blue lips in 70 degree weather. For the ones who see them and want what they don't have. For the woman who began cutting her hair shorter everyday. For her when she can't anymore. For those who are owned. Own life. Game it. Then fill your house with the moments where you did like so many hunting trophies there should be no empty space on those walls. This is for the Asian men who still say "cute eyes". For the typist. For those who spend more on gum. For the fiesta-pack-solitary-eaters. Shake the dust. For the men women can't help but want to run away from. For the only manual writers writing their hearts behind blank wall after blank wall after blank wall. Walls should not be blank y'all. Walls should not be whole. Shake them. Burn them. Buy them brake them bless them. Make them yours but not you. Empty bread-bags no more. You are not empty you are not empty you are the blue that lady is wearing and the gunshot for those willows running and dull scissors to the woman and flame the widower kneels to. Game it. No more empty. Walls should not be blank.

The napkins I've been sewing are for your children.

You kissed my red necktie and made a sweet spot.
A sweet spot.
You kissed.
My necktie.
Drugs had you and a childhood me andfoursideswarredinamberstinginglikecitrusbutwhenwecombinedourbloodbatheswewere Sweden.
Let me explain something to you:
Your hands on my bodyoutofmysquares
You broke through likeoutofaneggshell
Bringer of the lightwham
Your tongue never knocked and yeah it's holy thunder whenyouglidethroughthereanddownmygutsbecomechurchandwhen
talking while kissing when shuttight my eyes are then modeled by you we watch that projection of our
INSIDESOFMIRROROFUNIVERSE POTENTIAL
Why?WeintersectedonplanesweFISTEDthroughandshatteredtheprismthatcontainsalltheGODgodsandtrufflesand
TolstoysaroundtheneckofwhatHEpaysduestoandYOUbecamemySUITCASE-MYINSEAMmysafebeam
WHO QUIT DRUGS BUTcannotquitmeforfiveminutesyousaidthisI
listened I am this now I
knowthatI'dmakeyouapieeverydayIknowyoudon'tlikesugarsomuchbut you  made me of it when
WeshatteredthroughthatprismANDeverythingbecameMORETHAN
I want to explain:
That we'renolongerinboxes
I want to explain: that more
hasnoshapeno
Bearer of the sweet stains
Buyer of the curry
Marcher to the good cause
BEST of the BREAKDOWNS
Melter of the WAXWORKS
Clockbraker for the BADTIMES

The napkins I've been sewing are for your children.

BLOODtransfuser
you've made honey of my meltspots
A prayer of my larynxwhenyoumadethatsweetspot
I now untie things
thankstoanarchitectofsomethingbetter
the champion for overalls
My subparts gummies
I would leak citrus lactic
if someonepushedmybuttons
nolongeranupsidedownstarfish
no finger pushingthroughit.
Nosinglefinger.
Nomorefingers.
Just soft, everything, a neat bag to take calmly into the not organized.
When God goes home he's going to make that kind of sandwich.