Page 11 of Sweet T
Tucker raised his eyebrows, and Shelly clarified.
“The play is about a King and his three daughters. He’s dividing his assets and land between them based on their professed love for him. Two are just greedy and conniving–”
“Regan and Goneril,” Sebastian interjected.
“–telling him what he wants to hear. And then there is Cordelia. She truly loves her father, but finds it ridiculous to make a show of it. So, he gives everything to the bitches and leaves her with nothing, seeing her silence as indifference.”
Sebastian smiled. “Very good, Shelly. Anyway, I have three women in mind for the daughters. But between us, the strongest man I have for the role is Jasper Compton. He’s sweet, and competent enough for a smaller part. I just don’t see him carrying the weight of the Fool.”
“Why would a fool be that hard to play?” Tucker asked. “He’s an idiot, right?”
“NO,” said both Sebastian and Shelly, surprising Tucker.
“Shakespeare uses the Fool to represent Lear’s sanity,” Shelly continued. “The bad daughters leave Lear to the wolves once they have all he had to give. He realizes his mistake in judgment and goes mad. His friend, the Fool, comes in during this madness. Like a court jester, he’s there to entertain but speaks in metaphors and profound truths, revealing what Lear already knows deep down.”
“That Cordelia was the only daughter that loved him,” Sebastian said, sipping from his brandy.
“Once sanity returns to Lear, the Fool’s character is not seen again,” Shelly concluded. “So, it can be interpreted that the Fool doesn’t even really exist. That he is only Lear’s subconscious.”
“That’s heavy,” said Tucker. “How the hell do you know all this stuff, Shelly?”
“English Lit. It’s one of my electives.”
Sebastian raised his glass to her. “You learned well, good lady.”
“Yes, I did.” Shelly turned and headed toward the kitchen. “Good luck with finding your Fool. And stop calling me lady.”
Sebastian looked at Tucker with mock fright.
Tucker grinned. “She’s a woman, through and through. Just ask Shania Twain.”
“I heard that,” Shelly shouted from the kitchen. “Don’t be defining me with that stupid song.”
This time, Tucker feigned fear with wide eyes.
Sebastian lowered his voice to a whisper. “She’s much more Nina Simone.”
“I don’t know who that is.”
“It’s not important. I have something for you.”
He reached for his backpack on the floor, unzipped it, and pulled out a small shirt box wrapped in gold foil paper. He pushed the package across the bar toward Tucker.
Tucker was confused. “Wait. What’s this? It’s not my birthday.”
“Nope. But it is a day for celebration. Go ahead. It’s yours to unwrap.”
Hesitantly, Tucker did so. Once the paper was removed, he opened the box, lifting out its contents and unfolding a rainbow flag.
Sebastian pointed above the shelves of liquor bottles behind Tucker. “I thought maybe you could hang it up there, next to the American one. Today should be celebrated, you know. It’s rare the powers that be recognize us.”
Tucker turned, lifting the flag as if considering its placement.
“He’s right, you know.” Shelly was standing in the kitchen doorway. “You need to let folks know that this is a gay-owned business.”
“I think people already know that,” Tucker said. “It’s not like I’m hiding anything.”
“How many folks come in here that don’t know you?” Sebastian asked.