Echo of Flight, by Suzie Bastien

Act One

[A gymnastics studio at night. Moonlight streams through high windows, creating elongated shadows of equipment. CLAIRE, 16, stands alone in the center of a mat, wearing practice clothes. The room seems to pulse with her heartbeat. At the edge of the mat, barely visible, sits a YOUNGER CLAIRE, 8, in a sparkly competition leotard.]

CLAIRE: [to the empty room] They posted the list today.

YOUNGER CLAIRE: Did we make it?

CLAIRE: [touches her phone in her pocket] I haven’t looked.

YOUNGER CLAIRE: You promised we’d go to the Olympics.

CLAIRE: I remember.

YOUNGER CLAIRE: The day Mom left—

CLAIRE: Don’t.

YOUNGER CLAIRE: You said if we worked hard enough—

CLAIRE: If we became perfect—

YOUNGER CLAIRE: She’d see us on TV—

CLAIRE: And come back.

[CLAIRE begins a series of mechanical warm-up movements, each one precise, painful]

YOUNGER CLAIRE: [singing a child’s tune] Point-flex, point-flex, break yourself to bits…

CLAIRE: I don’t sing that anymore.

YOUNGER CLAIRE: Point-flex, point-flex, till your spirit splits…

[CLAIRE moves into a handstand, holding it with trembling arms]

CLAIRE: Coach says I’m ready.

YOUNGER CLAIRE: Ready to fall?

CLAIRE: To fly.

YOUNGER CLAIRE: Same thing.

[The sound of a door opening echoes. COACH MATHIEU enters, carrying his ever-present coffee. He looks exhausted, haunted.]

COACH MATHIEU: The studio’s closed.

CLAIRE: [still in handstand] Just one more hour.

COACH MATHIEU: It’s midnight.

CLAIRE: Time doesn’t exist here.

COACH MATHIEU: [approaching slowly] I saw the list.

[CLAIRE’s arms begin to shake more violently]

YOUNGER CLAIRE: [singing] Point-flex, point-flex, till your bones all break…

CLAIRE: Did I—?

COACH MATHIEU: You know your mother called me.

[CLAIRE crashes out of the handstand]

CLAIRE: You’re lying.

COACH MATHIEU: Last week.

CLAIRE: Why?

COACH MATHIEU: She saw the preliminary rankings.

YOUNGER CLAIRE: [delighted] She watches us!

CLAIRE: [to YOUNGER CLAIRE] Shut up! [to COACH] What did she want?

COACH MATHIEU: To know if you were ready.

CLAIRE: And?

COACH MATHIEU: I told her you’d been training the triple.

CLAIRE: No one lands the triple.

YOUNGER CLAIRE: Not and stays whole.

COACH MATHIEU: You land it in practice.

CLAIRE: Sometimes.

YOUNGER CLAIRE: When the moon is right and the shadows are long and our bones are hollow…

COACH MATHIEU: [taking out his phone] Do you want to know about the list?

[CLAIRE backs away]

CLAIRE: If I didn’t make it—

YOUNGER CLAIRE: We promised!

CLAIRE: If I’m not perfect—

COACH MATHIEU: Claire.

CLAIRE: She’ll never—

[CLAIRE suddenly runs to the beam, leaps on with fluid grace]

CLAIRE: Watch me. Just… watch me.

[She begins a routine, each movement precise but filled with a desperate energy. The moonlight seems to fracture around her.]

YOUNGER CLAIRE: [as CLAIRE performs] Point-flex, point-flex, till you’re floating free…
Point-flex, point-flex, till she comes to see…

COACH MATHIEU: [quietly] You made the team, Claire.

[CLAIRE freezes mid-sequence on the beam]

CLAIRE: What?

COACH MATHIEU: First alternate.

YOUNGER CLAIRE: [disappointed] Not good enough.

CLAIRE: [still balanced] What happens if I fall?

COACH MATHIEU: You get back up.

CLAIRE: No. What happens if I really fall? If I break?

YOUNGER CLAIRE: [singing softer] Point-flex, point-flex, till there’s nothing left…

COACH MATHIEU: Then we find another way.

CLAIRE: [looking at her younger self] There is no other way.

[She begins the lead-up to the triple. The moonlight intensifies.]

COACH MATHIEU: Claire, don’t—

[Blackout. The sound of a body in motion, then silence.]

YOUNGER CLAIRE: [in the darkness, singing] Point-flex, point-flex, watch her fly away…
Just like Mommy did that summer day…

[End of Act One]


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