Ninety-six, producing artistic director, Scott Nolte counted them. Ninety-six days after fire burned Taproot out, they were back in; up, running and glad to be alive.

Also, perhaps by way of putting some kind of meaning to the harrowing experience they had come through, they brought with them playwright C.S. Lewis and his theologically oriented allegory, “The Great Divorce.” If so, the meaning was: let go, move on, the best is yet to come.

“Divorce” draws from Christianity, Lewis’s “Screwtape Letters,” William Blake’s “Marriage of Heaven and Hell” and Dante’s “Inferno.” The characters represent abstract ideas in a philosophical argument for the individual soul’s right to choose. Heaven or hell, eternity blissful or miserable, life after death, the choice and the reason for the choice is “Divorce’s” focal point.

Briefly, the recently deceased are ghosts arriving at the place of choosing from the land of the living. They look like you and me. The place is grassland in foothills. Ahead lies the promise of the great beyond; behind, the sure and certain fires of hell. Spirits of the dead meet, greet and explain. Ahead or behind, ghosts decide.

This is surrealistic allegory, heady stuff. If taken as intended, it comes out comical, dramatic, ironic, sometimes sardonic, always intellectual and, in a strange way, somehow familiar. If not taken as intended, the whole thing collapses into incoherence.

In performance, scenic designs are minimal; costuming, oftentimes imaginative, reflects character; 10 actors, mainly relying on dialogue deliveries interpret 25 distinct choices. Scott Nolte’s directing stays on point without deviation.

The role of Lewis as storyteller calls for particularly articulate, if not eloquent handling; it’s gorgeous. David Dorrian in the role could let more of the language take charge, rather than the other way around. He rushes it some.

Candace Vance from Shoreline in dual roles makes convincing cases, for Artistic Ghost’s fixed attachment to fame for fame’s sake and for Bright Youth’s ever-refreshing influence wherever it appears.

Ryan Childers mirrors Bitter Ghost’s insistence on cynicism.

Other actors have to empathize with Shoreline resident Sam Vance’s portrayal of Frank. Frank is the pitifully deformed slave to acting, yet unwilling to free himself although beseeched to by a lover who sees her best in him.

Faith Russell’s Waterfall is paradise incarnate, heavenly. On the other hand, Russell’s Robert’s Wife is her husband’s hell-on-wheels. In both roles, Russell rocks.

Nathan Jeffrey’s Tragedian is the gloomy Gus Jeffrey makes fun to laugh at.

Creation’s beauty appreciated suggests itself as true artistic spirit through Jenny Cross’s Artistic Spirit. Cross’s exuberance sparkles.

People who bitch no matter what? Pam Nolte’s Grumbler nails one down for all time.

Taken together, Kim Morris’ Bright Spirit and her Lizard make for a clear-cut high life, low life, both have parts to play in the universal scheme of things.

As Virgil did for Dante, so George MacDonald does for C.S. Lewis. Scottish brogue and all, Nolan Palmer in the role of MacDonald spells out the secret of the ages in the wonders of the world. The authoritative tone Palmer manages is man to man, soul to soul, being to being, no judgment involved, wisdom itself. Palmer centers “Divorce’s” overall optimism.

This is theater to ponder by a theater that got up after a knockdown. Whether they chose “Divorce” for its overarching sense of thanksgiving or not, I don’t know. But the way they do it makes me think they did, I am convinced of. Ninety-six days to get back on their feet is like C.S. Lewis’s inquiry into the meaning of the human condition: a point to ponder.