January 7 - Macbeth (the conculsion)

I now realize that the formatting gets a little screwed up when I copy and paste from word.  More likely than not, that will continue to be a problem for the life of this blog.  In any event, this is as far as I went with Macbeth for my Sophomore English class, so enjoy the "conclusion"...

Chapter 3

“Ladies! What brings you to 77^th and Lex?”

“Hecate’s message.  Is this where you were sent?”

“Yep.  Don’t you think it’s nice, Arian?”

“Very.  Have you seen Kendra?”

“No, she’s up to some wickedness I’m sure.  Oh!  I saw a woman walk by the other day – furs and all don’t you know – some trader’s wife anyway, she scoffed at me, called our kind the principal problem of the city – to her children no less – and said that giving us money only encouraged our laziness.”

 “Have you sent a message to the others?”

“Of course, of course.  They’ve all promised they’d seek her out especially to beg.  But moreover they’ll seek her husband.  Drain his change purse and his spirits with their begging.  We can’t do much more, but to see her husband give to transient upon transient – for the others in this station say he’s generous, even around his wife with enough pleading – will certainly wear down the wife.”

“Give me a copy of the message.  I’ll keep my eyes out too.”

“So kind Arian.  But look, here’s Kendra.  Kendra, where have you been?”

“Here and there.  I’ve been at Wall and William.”

“Oh very nice.  Arian’s been at Rector.”

“And you’ve been here I suppose?”

“Oh yes.  But look, there’s the man Hecate said to look for.”

Two men ran down the steps of the subway station, trying to get out of the rain that had sprung upon them.  Both were dressed in suits, although one looked as if he had been in the process of taking his off when he had been called back to the office and had to put it on again.  He was adjusting his tie as the two darted out of the rain.  The other looked back at the downpour from the overhang of the subway station, adjusting his cufflinks not out of necessity but out of compulsion.  He seemed out of place in the graffitied halls of the 77^th and Lexington station, as though he normally traveled above ground but couldn’t catch a cab in the weather.

 “Look at that.”

“Not exactly weather to match your success today, MacBeth.”

“Not my success, our success.  I couldn’t have held down the currency trading without you working on the bonds.”

“Knowing you, you probably could have done it anyway.  Look at the gaggle of bag ladies, I’ve never seen three so clearly together.”

“Banquo, give them some change for me.  We have to be on our way; Duncan calls.”

“Ha!  Hand over the change then.  You’ll get my ticket today?”

MacBeth nodded.  He walked over to the ticket machine and stood for a moment, contemplating how the machine worked.  Banquo walked over to the three transients.

“Good evening ladies.  You look half dead.  Here’s some change; stay dry.”

The three women peered around him, acknowledging his presence but not heeding his greeting.  They stared intently at MacBeth, until he turned around, conscious of the three pairs of eyes on his back.  He bent to get the tickets and walked over to Banquo, putting his hand on his friend’s shoulder to pull him away from the three women.

“Come on, Duncan calls.”  He waived goodbye to the three and turned to the turnstile.

“MacBeth.  MacBeth.   Currency Trader.  Trade some more currency to us.” The first woman stood and shuffled towards the two men shaking a cup of change in front of her.

“MacBeth.  MacBeth.  Partner of Forres and Scone.  Who’ll soon have plenty of change to spare.”  The second too rose and followed her friend.

“MacBeth.  MacBeth.  Who soon shall be as Duncan.” 

The third too rose and joined her friends.  MacBeth looked back at them, startled and afraid.  Banquo too turned to his friend.

“MacBeth, why look so scared.  They only bring good wishes.   Ladies, rant a little on my behalf.  Your minds create such a wonderful future for my friend, what do you think of Banquo?”

The three turned to each other and began to mutter.  One turned out of the huddle and spoke.

“Banquo?  Lower than MacBeth, but may be higher.”

“Banquo?  Unhappy, yet happier shall be than MacBeth.”

“Banquo?  Never shall you be CEO, but your children may.”

“So thanks to you MacBeth and Banquo.”

With that the first turned away, still shaking her cup, and began to shuffle back to the place where she had crouched before.  MacBeth, as if shaking himself from a trance, jumped forward to drop a dollar in the woman’s cup.

“Please, and that should help, tell me more.  How do you know my job?  How do you know where I work? I know I am a Currency Trader – I got Bert Sinel’s job when he left to work at another firm – but how can you call me partner, or even CEO, if that’s what you mean by calling me Duncan?  These things are impossible; there are many others who’d make partner before I would.  How did you find us here and how did you know what to tell me?”

The second woman cackled and, grabbing her companions by the hand, darted down a dark, unused tunnel.  Macbeth started after them, but stopped and watched them fade into the darkness.

“Hey, come on.  As you say, Duncan’s waiting.”

“Banquo, they vanished.  Listen.  You can’t even hear them anymore.  I must be going mad.”

“What, you mean you hallucinated them?  Then you and I both are going mad.  And anyway, lighten up, our hallucinations bear good tidings!”

“Humph. Always optimistic aren’t you?”

The ping of MacBeth’s Blackberry cut through the echoes of Banquo’s laughter.  As he read, his expression became more and more incredulous.  Finally, Banquo looked over at his friend.

“Hey, who’s it from?”

“Ross, and here’s another from Angus.”

“What do they have to say?”

“Ross says Duncan’s elated with the news of our success on the floor today.  And both congratulate me on making partner.”

“Partner?”

“Yeah.  I’ll BBM them back.”

“The bag ladies can’t have any knowledge we don’t, even if they are hallucinations.  How could they have known?”

“Look, they’ve replied…”

The two men huddled around the phone and read. 

MacDonald was fired for working with Sweno (bastard deserves it).  He’d be finished here anyway, no one would work with someone tainted by Buckley and his crew.  Duncan’s given you his place at the table as a reward for today.  But don’t take it from me, that’s why Duncan called you back.  Hurry.

“Text them back.  Thank them for the news.”

“You don’t need to tell me twice.”

The two men hurried past the turnstile and hopped on the train.  Banquo spent the ride from 77^th and Lex to Fulton St. in conversation with his Blackberry getting more information from Angus and Ross.  MacBeth, on the other hand, spent his ride in contemplation.

“They were right.  Well, they were right on two counts.  But to have Duncan’s position?  CEO?  This can’t be a bad course.  Nor can it be good.  I am now who they said I’d be.  Partner.  I have MacDonald’s seat in the Lennox room, maybe even his invitation to the Inverness meetings.  But how to get to Duncan’s position? There’s the fast way, the easy way.  How can I be more afraid of the prophets than the prophecy?  Prophecy?  MacBeth, get a hold of yourself.  They’re transients, hobos, probably schizophrenic.  But how did they know so much?”

“Hey, MacBeth! Get off the train!”

MacBeth looked up and darted through the doors at the Fulton St. station just as they were about to close.  Clearly shaken, he looked around, gathered himself, and walked briskly towards the Line 2 interchange.  Banquo grabbed him by the shoulder and stopped him.

“Hey, you’re not still harping on them?  Shake this daze!  If they’re right, you’re on your way to CEO; if not, you’ve still made partner.  That’s something to tell the lady about, right?”

“Yeah.  What will be will be, I suppose.”

“That’s the sprit.  You’re just not used to the new title.”

“I suppose not.  But still, coffee tomorrow?  We should still talk about all this.  The transients promised your little boy the same title they promised me.”

“Ha!  I wish I could see that.  Little Fleance playing with his little, green solider men on the oak board table, running an international investment firm.”

Laughing, both men made their way to the next train.  As MacBeth alighted, he thought:

“What will be will be.  I did nothing to make partner; maybe I won’t have to do anything to make CEO.  But still… my fantasies get out of hand.  To think of killing Duncan… I hardly thought I could.  But as I said, what will be will be.  Let chance work it’s magic.”

            The two exited the Wall and William St. station and looked up at the darkening sky.  The rain had stopped, but thunder clapped in the near distance as they entered the foyer of Forres and Scone Investors, lit only by the fading natural light though the great windows of the entrance hall.