If This Archetype Chooses You – You have a legal issue. Is there some illegality in your secret life? Are you stepping over lines in public or private? Remember, lawbreakers break themselves.
Do You Dream of Judges? Lawyers? Court? Are you obsessed with TV programs about justice? When justice is delayed or denied, do you obsess about that? Are you feeling unjustly punished? Do you envy or rage against those who have “gotten away with something”?
Creative’s Desire for Justice is Hardwired – Do you envy or rage against those who have “gotten away with something”? “Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be filled.” In my view, the mere concept of Complete Justice is heaven enough. We are repeatedly warned that it won’t ever match our earthly ideologies, that we are children scrapping in a sandbox who haven’t noticed, much less comprehended, the real issues.
What Is Our Armor? – What laws resonate with you? Do you believe in karma? How would you define it? What laws make you angry? Which laws would you modify? What is your attitude towards the police – protectors of order or agents of mayhem? Dick Nixon was famous for talking endlessly about “restoring law and order” until just before he was forced to resign because of his multiple crimes. Many Trump followers insist everything Trump has done is “justified because Democrats are worse.” Is this a race to the bottom? Where’s the off-ramp?
Creative Danger – “Judge not lest ye be judged” is a scary proposition. How would we come off if our standards were used against us? Come to think of it, what are our standards? Are they fluid? Flexible? Jesus also said the “letter” i.e. “written rule” KILLS. That it’s the “spirit that gives life.”
Law Is Our Armor – Creatives dream of a “spirit-filled” Law. Maybe you wanted to go to Law School but life intervened. It’s never too late to study any subject that’s close to our heart. We become creatives because we wish for heroes; I think that’s the sole reason for the wild popularity of the Marvel movie series.
Do You Admire Heroes Because They Break the Rules, or because they uphold them? We acknowledge the need for rules, but how can we make sure they’re “spirit-filled”? In what areas of your life are you too rigid? In which are you too flexible? Imagine yourself speaking in court, making a case for yourself. What arguments would you give? Ask your dreams to start imagining a Justice World. How would it look?
Models & Mentors – “Law is not law if it violates the principles of eternal justice” – Lydia Maria Child
“The only stable state is one where all are equal before the law” – Aristotle
“Law is the public conscience” – Thomas Hobbes
‘Able in argument, accurate in analysis, strict in study, candid with clients and honest with adversaries, today I shall not, to win a point, lose my soul” – St. Thomas More
“If we desire respect for the law, we must make law respectable” – Louis D. Brandeis
#Haiku: Karma
Come round – Go round. Love reaps love Law reaps Justice Violence reaps Whirlwind.
(BEXappears in a spot on theTOWER LIFT, holding a pair of binoculars and a shotgun. Scans the stage)
CHASE
(Holding JAZZ close)
You’re making me feel incredibly powerful
(They kiss with increasing urgency. BEX appears to focus on them. He racks his gun angrily, climbs down, his spot dissolving. JAZZ and CHASE’s “shadows” explode hugely against the back wall, seeming to rise up in the air)
JAZZ
Feel that?
CHASE
I do. Don’t fight it.
JAZZ
Who’s fighting it? You’re the one fighting it.
SCENE X – SWAP MEET. (When the lights come up the curtain has fallen and JAZZ and CHASEstand outside it, hand in hand, staring into the audience.)
JAZZ
Where are we?
CHASE
Looks like a swap meet. But all they’re selling is Christmas stuff.
JAZZ
That’s weird.
CHASE
Especially since I hate Christmas.
JAZZ
Who could possibly hate Christmas?
CHASE
It never lives up to its billing.
(RADappears, pushing a shopping cart. Sets up a table and starts laying out junk)
RAD
Hi, guys! Long time no see. You in the market for a knickknack? Ganja? Electronics? Jewelry?
CHASE
Is this your gig?
RAD
Gotta have a side hustle – gotta get the scratch. You’d be amazed what some people just throw away. How about a nice Christmas cactus? I did have a shotgun but I sold it.
CHASE
You sold a shotgun? Who to?
RAD
Biker dude from out of town. He said if it didn’t work he would come looking for me.
JAZZ
Does it work?
RAD
Let’s hope so. Just passing on whatever I find.
CHASE
We don’t want anything.
JAZZ
Speak for yourself. I’d love a Christmas cactus.
(RADreaches into the depths of his cart and produces an unflowering – apparently dead plant –JAZZ takes it)
CHASE
Great. It’s dead.
JAZZ
It is not. It only blooms once a year. Says here, this one’s going to have three blossoms.
RAD
Can’t go to the party without a present.
CHASE
What party?
RAD
Isn’t life a party?
JAZZ
So far.
CHASE
More like a bribe for the deadboat captain. So we poor ghosts don’t get shoved into steerage.
RAD
That’ll be a hundred bucks.
CHASE
A hundred bucks!
RAD
This is a rare, one time offer. Not shown on TV. I’ve got bills.
JAZZ
Blood money, remember?
CHASE
If that’s what you want. You got giftwrap?
(RAD produces pink foil and a massive ribbon)
JAZZ
Wow. This says “Happy Birthday.” Do we know anybody born in December?
CHASE
My mom.
JAZZ
Oh, my God! Hide!
(She drags CHASEdown the stage steps to cower behind the stairs. BEXappears with a shotgun, racking the slide. RAD hastily packs up. Both exit offstage)
They’re not letting anyone in. Do you know who lives in Room 824?
JAZZ
Actually, I live there.
SOLIZ
Oh, you do, do you? Well, some guy fell out your window.
JAZZ
Just like your dream!
SOLIZ
(threateningly)
I don’t know what you’re talking about.
CHASE
Some guy? Who?
SOLIZ
Unidentified. You can’t see him, he’s under a tent.
CHASE
Can’t Jazz collect her stuff?
SOLIZ
Come back later. It’s chaos over there.
(SOLIZfrees them from tape; JAZZandCHASElurch off downstage)
JAZZ
This is Soliz’s dream. I remember if she doesn’t.
CHASE
Except this was a guy.
JAZZ
Let’s hope it was Bex.
CHASE
So now you’re pro-violence?
JAZZ
Who’s saying I pushed him? It would be so unlike me.
CHASE
So, no going home for you.
JAZZ
Hadleigh was never my home.
CHASE
Well, you can camp out at my place while we figure out what to do with this new corpse.
JAZZ
Makes me harder for Bex to find. On the other hand when he does, he’ll just get madder.
CHASE
We’ve got enough problems without worrying about satisfying his unsatisfiable psyche. We’ve got three dead bodies!
JAZZ
And God knows how many crime scenes. Explain exactly why soulmating requires detective work?
CHASE
Maybe nature is one big crime scene. Red of tooth and claw.
JAZZ
You and your classical education.
CHASE
Voilã! Here we are at my place.
SCENE VIII – Lights go up on CHASE’S APT – disheveled male bedroom/kitchenette
JAZZ
This is definitely a crime scene.
(Throws herself into a low-slung chair)
CHASE
(Sitting close)
You expected harp music? Hey, you admitted your life was a crime scene too.
JAZZ
I guess I thought the point of soulmates is all the hard work would be magically be done.
CHASE
So no going over the past trying to understand and explain the mess? Wouldn’t that be nice!
JAZZ
Why can’t we just escape the mess? The mess would no longer matter. We could rise above the mess.
CHASE
Your fantasy forgets about the demons. If we’ve unleashed demons –
JAZZ
Who’s to say we unleashed them? I’m not responsible for Bex.
CHASE
Yet he’s out there, rampaging. At least I know I’m responsible for Corso.
JAZZ
But Corso’s using your involvement to keep his rampage going. Oh. Touché. I see what you mean.
CHASE
We’re dissociating. Living each other’s nightmares.
JAZZ
At least we’re braving hell together.
(they touch hands)
CHASE
If it’s purgatory, graduation’s a possibility.
JAZZ
We’re on a multiple universe scavenger hunt!
CHASE
A time and space jigsaw puzzle!
JAZZ
We need to get to the crime scene before the crime happens.
CHASE
How would we know it was a crime scene?
JAZZ
Tell me what you know. What Corso did to you.
CHASE
God! You know I don’t want to talk about it.
JAZZ
What specifically are you afraid will happen if you talk about it?
CHASE
That this whole thing would shatter right in front of me. I would wreck – whatever this is happening between us.
JAZZ
Maybe we’re meant to reveal, not repair, each other’s real selves.
CHASE
Let’s talk about your fears and malfeasance. That’s more fun for me.
JAZZ
Somebody increased power by sucking out ours. We’re going to reclaim it. Tell your soulmate what Dr. Corso did to you.
CHASE
If you know, aren’t you ruined too? How can I stay with someone who knows this disgusting thing about me?
JAZZ
I guess we’ll just have to see. We need to free ourselves to be with each other.
CHASE
But there’s the difference, right there – you left Bex, I pursued Corso. I came after him.
JAZZ
You are so competitive. If you need to be “worst”, prove it.
CHASE
He was a teacher at my choir school. Latin, of all things. We spent an eternity on the Aeneid. God, I hate talking about this. I haven’t talked about it since I was fifteen, with the lawyers and judges.
JAZZ
He molested you?
CHASE
Between my ninth and thirteenth years. He had a way of making us compete to be “the favorite”. If you could just get on that easy street, life became golden. Finally I saw what a prisoner I was. Mustered up the courage to get the hell out of there.
JAZZ
Jesus.
CHASE
Great pillow talk, huh? And that’s not the worst of it.
JAZZ
How could it get worse?
CHASE
I brought him other boys. Whatever he wanted.
JAZZ
You were a kid. None of this could possibly be your fault.
CHASE
Yet here I am. Still a slave.
JAZZ
But you found your soulmate.
(They hug)
How did it end?
CHASE
It hasn’tended. I mean, the sex thing ended when Corso met my sister – my twin sister – and decided he was ready to branch out. He was like, deliver her or else. That woke me up. I went home and refused to go back to school. I finally told my parents.
JAZZ
And?
CHASE
They pretty much behaved the worst they possibly could. First, they didn’t believe me. My dad has always been a total bastard making fun of me for singing in a high voice and wearing a lace collar and Mom was sort of a “the church can do no wrong” nut. You know, like, who are you going to believe, a priest or your own lying eyes? They just couldn’t take it in. Butthena kid at school hanged himself and things started to snowball. Corso got kicked out. People started suing. My dad smelled a payday. The other families accepted settlements not to squeal. Everybody settled except my father. He was holding out for the Big Money that was going to make all his dreams come true.
JAZZ
Then what?
CHASE
What always happens with my Dad. He was having such a good time holding the whip, he waited too long. The minute I turned sixteen, I got legally emancipated. I could prove that Dad was hitting me – I had the sense to record him – so the judge refused to give Dad the cash. Dad declared bankruptcy and I finished high school on my own. Living at the Y.
(Restless pacing)
So on top of everything else, I’m singlehandedly responsible for the destruction of my family.
JAZZ
Scapegoating. People need someone to blame, it’s another form of hostage-taking. This isn’t your fault. Time to forgive yourself.
A trial is a cutaway of its time and place, a look not just into mores and modalities but secrets and sewage. Two of the most interesting trials I have seen – and I watched every day – were Beth Carpenter’s trial in New London, CT and Michael Peterson’s in Raleigh, N.C. (both 2002, both for first degree murder.)
Each trial exposed the inner workings of a family (two families in the Carpenter case) and were so enormously influential for me that I wrote fiction about them.
Both trials revealed levels of shocking hypocrisy so deep we could have been in Victorian London; these accused would do anything to get what they wanted while maintaining social appearances.
At the time of his wife’s death Michael Peterson was gay sexting on hotmilitarystud.com; and although he insisted his wife knew about his affairs her daughter (who lived with them) did not think so. But the real shock in this case was that an identical death was exhumed from his past – another woman who died on bloody staircase. Both skulls revealed seven blows to the top of the head.
The first woman’s daughters – whom Peterson acquired along with her assets – thought she had died of an aneurysm. What would it feel like to see their mother’s real skull revealed in court for all the world to see? That was the genesis of Depraved Heart, though I changed everything else to create my own world.
In the Carpenter case, Beth came from a family of strivers who felt soiled and humiliated by their other daughter’s marriage to a part time stripper tow truck driver. Beth was accustomed to ordering her boyfriends around – two of them testified that she took over their cars and bank accounts as soon as they showed interest. Her boss, Hayman Clein, a successful Connecticut real estate attorney, fell for her attractions and became her virtual slave. When she asked him to find her a hit man, he offered up his coke dealer – and the three of them went down for the crime. That this simple ask keeping her own hands clean made Beth a murderer too is something she should have known – she also was a lawyer.
I used aspects of her overpowering character to create my Queen of Swords.
It’s a truism that real life needs to be toned down for fiction: no one would believe it.
(Lights up on Hamptons cottage, as before. WHITNEY assaults the door.)
WHITNEY Charmayne!! Charmayne!!
(Her stepmother opens the door. Slower, less confident; accusatory)
CHARMAYNE You’ve been avoiding me, Whitney. Why haven’t you returned my calls? I thought we were besties.
WHITNEY I wanted to bring you something.
CHARMAYNE (Haughty, but momentarily excited in spite of herself)
And what could you possibly give the woman who has everything?
WHITNEY Just this.
(Tenders a bullet)
CHARMAYNE Ooooo, scary! And what’s this supposed to represent?
WHITNEY It’s a bullet, Charmayne. It matches the bullets in your gun, the bullets all over this beach and the bullets in your stepfather.
CHARMAYNE My stepfather!
WHITNEY Yup. I’ve been to visit his grave.
CHARMAYNE Well, thank you for this –
(Mockingly, as she throws it out to sea)
I was never was two-faced as you, Whitney. My stepfather – who’s in hell, as you very well know from the personal, confidential disclosures that I made to you during a Girls Night Out – doesn’t have a grave. Anyway, nobody cares about that old stuff anymore.
WHITNEY There’s no statute of limitations on murder.
CHARMAYNE (Tries to grab her)
Statute! Limitations! Whit, do you need cash to go to law school?
WHITNEY (Evading her neatly)
It’s time to answer for what you’ve done.
(CHARMAYNE walks past her towards the ocean – crossed arms, thinking)
CHARMAYNE Your father wouldn’t want this.
WHITNEY I’m not doing it for him. I’m doing it for me.
CHARMAYNE This feels so odd. It’s not what I expected, at all. You never fail to surprise me, Whitney. Your enmity is so flattering. I feel… courted.
(Turns around to face WHITNEY, back in control)
So you think you know everything about me now?
WHITNEY I know all I need to know. For example, that you’re wondering right now whether it’s worth your while to get rid of me. Whether I have a partner in my researches who knows everything I’m doing. And the answer is yes.
CHARMAYNE I was not wondering how to get rid of you, Whitney! As if! I couldn’t get rid of you if I tried. You’re one of the Immortals.
WHITNEY Am I supposed to know what that is?
CHARMAYNE We Immortals have been here since time immemorial. We recognize each other. We are transformable, but essentially indestructible.
WHITNEY Wow, that’s so comforting. Lucky for us! And now it’s time for my second gift. I’m going to tell your fortune.
(Sits at the patio set table and starts shuffling cards)
CHARMAYNE (Approaching nervously, interested in spite of herself)
You can’t tell my fortune.
WHITNEY I’m the only one who can.
CHARMAYNE But that’s not my deck. So you can’t use it.
WHITNEY No. It’s my deck. You have to play the cards the goddess deals, right? Sit down. First, I’ll tell you your past.
(Produces a card – Hermit leaps up on the screen. Cards seemingly tremble, shimmer in the air) Recognize him?
(CHARMAYNE sits down)
CHARMAYNE It’s the Hermit.
WHITNEY There he is, with his broom and his light. Don’t you recognize him?
CHARMAYNE That’s a staff.
WHITNEY It’s a broom. It’s holding him up more than he’s holding it up. I saw him. I spoke to him. Mr. Butterbatch.
CHARMAYNE (Sounds delighted)
Old Butterbatch! Is HE still ticking! I can scarcely believe it – he was a hundred when I knew him. How is the old geezer?
WHITNEY Fine and dandy. I must say he remembers you very well, Destiny. He told me all about how the police have been longing to find the source of the female DNA all over the frog gigger they found sticking out of Burt’s throat. You must have cut yourself! Imagine that! Probably just a little nick. How would you even have noticed it, when there was so much blood?
CHARMAYNE Burt was vile, Whitney. Vile. Anyone would have done it. He needed to be put down.
WHITNEY Maybe, Charmayne. Who can judge? O, right, this guy! Justice!
(Tarot card leaps up to screen and trembles in the air)
CHARMAYNE Justice is female, Whitney. But I have faith in you. You’ll figure it out.
WHITNEY Must be where the phrase “stings like a bitch” comes from. And see that box she’s sitting on? That’s the box they’re going to put you in.
CHARMAYNE No one’s putting me in a box. Never.
WHITNEY Oh, they’re going to put you in a box, Charmayne. They’re going to put you in a series of boxes, like some kind of dangerous Matrushka doll. That’s three separate states you’ve unleashed mayhem in and they’re all going to want a crack at you. And who’s this? The Lovers!
(Tarot card onscreen)
There’s your girlfriend, Charmayne Carr. You must have known the cards would turn on you someday, Charmayne. Why don’t you just tell her family where you stashed that body? The prosecutor’s going to get it out of you, one way or another. After a few weeks of instant mashed potato mix, egg substitute, baloney and wonderbread you’ll tell them anything they want to know.
CHARMAYNE (Mocking) Shows what you know! I wonder if your much-vaunted “classical education” isn’t a pair of distortion goggles after all. Dr Carr’s family rejected her and she never gave a damn for any of them! She was free of all that. And for your information, the Lovers was never was her card. She was the Empress.
WHITNEY You said you weren’t two-faced like me, Charmayne. But you were careful, weren’t you? Did you give her the honor of confronting her the way I’m confronting you now or did wait until her back was turned?
CHARMAYNE She gave me her life! She was longing for me to absorb her! It was her free choice, one I wouldn’t expect you to understand. I was an Immortal! She recognized it and she yielded.
WHITNEY Sure, sure. That’s what always happens. The fish throws himself into the boat to save you from spearing it. Tell yourself anything that lets you sleep at night. Oh, wait, you can’t sleep, can you? It’s starting to show on your face.
(CHARMAYNE stands up and turns away, touching her face)
CHARMAYNE That was just mean, Whitney. That was uncalled for.
(WHITNEY produces another Tarot card – it leaps to the screen and shimmers in the air) Who’s this? An Emperor with the long white beard! Who can that be, I wonder!
CHARMAYNE (Turned away from the card, forces herself to sit down, put her feet up and make a show of relaxing)
Let me guess. A certain cardiac surgeon of our acquaintance?
WHITNEY Thoracic.
CHARMAYNE Thoracic surgeon. Now we get within sight of your real problem, Whitney, the real fountain of your rage. Your father was such a charming man, even in extreme old age. The Lady of Life met the Lord of Death: it was just the way he wanted it, it had to happen. He was so touchingly eager to enrich me, to pass along his acquisitions. You’re just jealous because he found a new pupil.
WHITNEY You thanked him by killing him!
CHARMAYNE I did reward him, Whitney. Your father was suffering. He begged me to put him out of his misery. Would you like me to summon him from the grave so you can ask him? You’ll see I’m right! I think from the first moment our eyes met in the job interview he knew I was the only one who could get the job done exactly the way he wanted. He begged me for that extra dose of morphine. Having a body became a torment to him. He could no longer enjoy anything.
WHITNEY As your body will torment you, while you rot away in jail. But at least somebody will get to enjoy it – whatever bullies or “Immortals” you’re lucky – or unlucky enough to run into. They’ll pass you around like a pizza.
CHARMAYNE (Snatches her feet off the table) I’m not going to jail, silly Whitney! Not ever! I served my time!
WHITNEY (Pulling herself forcibly together she produces another card – Judgment on screen – hugely vibrating )
Sorry, Pearleen – or whoever you are this week – childhood doesn’t count. Now here’s a lady you’ve never met. She showed me your stepfather’s grave.
CHARMAYNE (Labored change of tactics)
I like this new you, Whitney. So forceful, so ablaze.
(Pretends to shiver)
It’s so sexy. Pity it’s all wasted, that you’ve been so misled. Judgment is not the card you’ve been looking for all your life.
(Picks it up and sends it spinning – onscreen card – which she avoids looking at – seems to swell)
WHITNEY But this is the one card we have in common. The lady who tends your stepfather’s grave – saving it for the investigators – she brandished a trumpet and everything. Looks like the goddess has given up on you, Charmayne.
CHARMAYNE Nice try, but my stepfather doesn’t have a grave. He didn’t deserve one.
WHITNEY Yeah, he does, and I took a picture of it. See?
(Shows her phone)
The Hidden Glade developers found him when they paved over Dead Lake and they treated him to a nice box of his very own. There he is, just waiting for someone to find a match to those bullets.
(She pulls a bullet from a chain around her neck)
This bullet, for example. I chose it from the many bullets you’ve sprayed around this beach. You’ll never find them all.
CHARMAYNE (Crossed arms) I never transitioned anyone that didn’t want it or deserve it.
WHITNEY Transition! Now there’s a word! But the law doesn’t respect your private language, you know. They have a language all their own. You killed Charmayne Carr to steal her identity. You killed my father to get rich. You killed the night manager to steal his stash. You killed your stepfather to steal his wheels and run away.
CHARMAYNE (Firing up immediately)
None of that is true and you of all people –
WHITNEY That’s what they’ll say. I’m just trying to prepare you. That’s what prosecutors always say, based on what they can prove. It’s worst case scenario right at the beginning, Pearleen, so prepare yourself. I’m sure your oh-so-expensive defense attorney will explain to them about your “Immortals” theory. That’ll sound good to the jury. Or maybe he’ll just give up and plead insanity. Possibly you should represent yourself in court – after you’ve had all that plastic surgery you’ve been thinking about.
CHARMAYNE I ‘m not bothering with the law, Whitney. Don’t you see that the law’s a charade? A puppet dance for marionettes? I was greedy for life, Whitney. For ecstasy, for joy. For experiences and possessions, so I took them. I’m not ashamed. I’ve had everything I ever wanted.
WHITNEY Then isn’t it time?
CHARMAYNE For what?
WHITNEY To give up.
CHARMAYNE I’ll never give up!
WHITNEY (Produces a final card)
Because here’s your future. The Hanged Man. He sees the world upside down. And it’s the last thing he sees.
(Card onscreen)
CHARMAYNE You’re young, Whitney. Nothing wrong with that! You know nothing about the real world, by which I mean the invisible world that pulses beneath the visible. Your father kept you from it with that “classical education”. You need to take your time figuring out who – and what you really are. I could help you. We could share all this.
WHITNEY No.
(Throws a card at her – Death appears onscreen)
Death, Charmayne. That’s your future. Your future is Death.
CHARMAYNE (Upends the table, scattering everything – rises from her chair)
I can’t die. It won’t happen. Didn’t I explain it to you? Listen, Whitney. We make our own reality. You’re my mirror.
WHITNEY I’m your parabolic mirror, sent to fry you to a crisp.
CHARMAYNE Don’t say it like that. What if I admit you’ve won? Here, take the dagger. Now you’re the new Queen of Swords.
WHITNEY Someone told me never to “settle”.
CHARMAYNE (Kneeling beside her)
It’s breaking my heart that I can’t explain this to you.
WHITNEY Don’t kid yourself, Destiny. A heart was one of the encumbrances you left behind.
CHARMAYNE Is this what love feels like? I’m not used to wanting things I can’t have.
WHITNEY You just tried to convince me you’re immortal, you’ll never talk me into thinking you’re human!
CHARMAYNE It’s so strange! You feel about me the way I thought about them. Murder kills feeling. And if you can’t feel, you can’t enjoy. If you can’t enjoy, you might as well be dead.
WHITNEY I guess there’s a limit to everything, and you’ve reached yours.
CHARMAYNE (Turns to face the audience)
Maybe it is my time to find out my next stage. I’ve always wondered who I really am. Your father called me a “living doll,” Burt said I was cold as ice, the Empress named me “the marble-hearted”. My step-dad said I wasn’t a little girl, I was a cockroach like him.
(Touches WHITNEY)
Help me.
WHITNEY I’m helping you to see that it’s the end. You’ve had a good run, but it’s over.
CHARMAYNE You don’t even know what you’re rejecting! Let me show you what you’re missing –
(Tries to embrace WHITNEY who pushes her away)
WHITNEY (Roughly)
You’re not my type.
CHARMAYNE Isn’t there anything I can give you to change your mind? Think, Whitney. Aren’t I the only person in the universe who really understands you? Sees you for what you are?
WHITNEY Actually, you aren’t. But there is something you can give me.
CHARMAYNE (Such relief)
What? Anything! Name it.
WHITNEY I want you to prove your immortality.
(Points out to the audience)
Swim out there. Keep swimming. And don’t come back.
CHARMAYNE Are you sure that’s what you really want?
WHITNEY (Gesturing)
Challenge your Goddess to a swimming match. Be my guest. Bye-bye.
CHARMAYNE A swim? That’s all you want? When I am willing to share everything? All the secrets?
WHITNEY A swim to eternity. That’s all that I want.
CHARMAYNE (Brittle laugh)
You can see me naked any time, Whitney. No need to go through all this.
WHITNEY Just swim. I don’t care how.
CHARMAYNE But it’s freezing!
WHITNEY You swim here every night.
CHARMAYNE But the weather’s changed. It’s gone dark and cold. Still, they say beyond the water lies a place where all waters part. I could re-invent myself.
(Looking out)
So once again I’m the initiate, am I? It’s funny how things come around.
(Comes closer peering way, way out beyond the audience’s eyes.)
I wonder what’s out there. A little tequila before I go? For old time’s sake?
WHITNEY You’ve had all the tequila. Go.
(WHITNEY’S implacable so CHARMAYNE starts undressing.)
CHARMAYNE Look at my beautiful body, Whit. Won’t it be a shame to waste it?
WHITNEY Stop begging and save your strength.
CHARMAYNE (Insulted)
Begging? Is that what you think I’m doing?
(To herself)
The Empress told me that to find your dominant was heaven. I see it now. You’re the goddess who can never be denied.
(Bows at her feet – WHITNEY steps away in agitation)
WHITNEY Stuff it. Soft soap won’t work on me. I’ve never had it and I don’t want it. Your goddess is out there. Go find her.
CHARMAYNE (Kicking her clothes away)
This is all so different from what I imagined. I’m so different. It’s the ultimate surprise.
WHITNEY You may have more surprises waiting just around the corner.
CHARMAYNE I can feel myself getting younger. Like a child, begging for that one last story before lights out! Who knew after all this time that sacrifice – that giving up my strength would prove to be the missing fountain of youth! Will the Goddess reveal herself to me unveiled? Whose face will she wear, I wonder?
(Shivers)
WHITNEY You knew this was coming! You had to know!
CHARMAYNE I thought if my past ever caught up to me I’d…be destroyed. Disemboweled like the Hanging Man. Poison. The asp. Who knew it would feel so sweet? Relief.
WHITNEY (Somewhat shaken)
More cons.
CHARMAYNE What relief to concentrate on the physical challenge ahead. Oh, the blessing of the physical!
(Steps into the “water”, clutching her arms.)
There was always another freedom, right around the corner. What new thing comes next? Freedom’s the lover I pursued all my life, and still she evades me. There’s always a greater freedom… somewhere.
(Steps down into the audience. Swimming)
Suddenly I feel so shy. It’s like being thirteen again. If my stepfather had never existed, who would I have become?
WHITNEY (Coming down to the water to watch)
Maybe you’ll find out.
CHARMAYNE The Empress recommended surrender. She said it felt so good! They all told me…or tried to tell me. Who could predict that Death would come to me as a beautiful young woman?
(Breaststroke)
Is this right? Am I doing it right?
(WHITNEY gestures “farther out”. CHARMAYNE blows her a kiss.)
Goodbye, my nemesis.
(Faces outwards.)
Hello, Virginity!
(Swims away through the audience. Exit.)
(WHITNEY drops her “Judgment” pose, leaps to her feet, paces up and down the beach, peering out to sea. Increasingly anxious. Enter EIGHT to stand behind her and put his arms around her. She shakes him loose. Pacing.)
EIGHT Is she gone?
WHITNEY
I’ll never know! I thought it was all an act! I never thought it would work! She can’t be gone if I don’t feel she’s gone, can she? I’m so scared she injected herself inside me, like a brainworm! Am I a murderer now, too?
(Calls loudly)
Wait, wait! I’ve changed my mind! Come back! Let’s talk!
(EIGHT tries to calm her, she collapses into bitter weeping.)
EIGHT You’re acting like you lost your best friend. Don’t forget she was your bitterest enemy. She was the world’s enemy.
WHITNEY You confused her with your demon, but she was my demon.
(Shaking her head)
No, no. It was over too fast. What did I say? I blurted out a bunch of lies, just like she did. I had to turn myself into her in order to catch her! What if I can’t change back? I did everything wrong.
EIGHT (Hugs her)
Don’t be so hard on yourself. You’re decompressing. You were in an impossible situation. It worked! You did everything right.
WHITNEY But I miss her. Now I have nothing. No offense, but now I have nobody.
EIGHT No offense taken. You’re just feeling the emptiness where the anger used to be. Let it melt away. Of course it’s going to hurt. There’s a whole wide world out there and it needs you. The universe is full of treasure.
WHITNEY Didn’t I tell you I hate it when you talk about treasure?
EIGHT No. Sorry. Maybe I need a new expression.
WHITNEY I need a lot of new expressions. New words. I need a whole new language.
EIGHT It’s out there, Whitney. When you can’t manage forgiveness, just let go.
WHITNEY That’s what she said! It’s myself I can’t forgive.
EIGHT It takes awhile. You’ll figure it out. It’s like being born all over again. I have faith in you.
WHITNEY She said that too!
EIGHT She doesn’t own ideas, Whitney. She doesn’t own emotions, or the past, or even the future. She used those things as camouflage for her greed. For her appetites. Come. Walk with me.
WHITNEY No. No. I can’t leave. She might come back. You’re just trying to re-make me in your image.
EIGHT Absolutely not. The thing I like most about you is, you’re not me. Take your time, Whitney. This is your chance to be you. You’re telling your own fortune, now.
WHITNEY (Looking out over the ocean)
If I’m telling my own fortune I might as well give myself a really good one. Do you think she’s really gone?
EIGHT She’s less than nothing now. Hold my hand.
(Touching her)
You’re cold. Don’t you want to go inside?
WHITNEY No. I have to stay right here. For awhile.
(Sits down.)
In case she comes back. She might come back. Will you wait with me? At least till dark? Or till I get used to missing her? There were so many things I forgot to say.
EIGHT Rehearse them. Tell them all to me. I’m here.
(Sits beside her, they clutch hands, staring out into the audience. Lights out)
(Lights up on – Graveyard with sign, DEAD LAKE CEMETERY. WHITNEY approaches to read a stone aloud)
WHITNEY “John Doe – a friendless stranger. The Lord will recognize His own”.
(Enter a grave-tending woman, MRS DAVISH with basket of gardening tools and wheeled cart of plants.)
MRS. DAVISH Did you know that poor lost soul?
WHITNEY Looks like nobody knew him.
MRS. DAVISH (Pulls an ear trumpet off her cart and holds it to her head) What’s that you say? Speak up.
WHITNEY A trumpet!
MRS. DAVISH Just funning with you! My hearing’s perfect.
(Tosses the trumpet back on the cart.)
You wouldn’t believe the things people leave on graves around here. And the signs say, Plants Only. Trust me, Great Grampster hears fine in heaven. Care to purchase a remembrance for this grave? It would be very thoughtful of you.
WHITNEY I’m not sure he’s the right one. Is he the only John Doe you’ve got?
MRS. DAVISH He’s the only one. Usually people no one can identify go straight to paupers’ field. But the Hidden Glade developers paid for this poor gentleman.
WHITNEY Why would they?
MRS. DAVISH Maybe ‘cause they’re the ones that disturbed his peace by digging him up. But they didn’t bother to buy the perpetual care — that is rarer than hen’s teeth… They do say nothing is perpetual but my fond fancy… Look, I could just give you some flowers if you’re not too particular.
(Rummages in her cart)
WHITNEY Nothing for me, thank you. Doesn’t he ever get … remembrances?
MRS. DAVISH Never. Poor lost soul. Anything that’s ever been on that grave, I’ve put there myself.
WHITNEY Well, that’s peculiar, don’t you think?
MRS. DAVISH Not in the least. It’s the rule, really. You’d be surprised. No one speaks for the dead.
WHITNEY But when you want to speak up for them, it seems like they object.
MRS. DAVISH (Smiles at her)
Some of them can get a little noisy.
WHITNEY So how long have you been working here?
MRS. DAVISH Oh! Thirty years. Thirty-five years, off and on. My grandmother brought me every Sunday. You could call it a ritual. You’re welcome to try breaking out of long-established rituals – but it can’t be done.
WHITNEY Glad I found you. Seems lately I owe everything to people living in the past. So this man was buried by the Dead Lake developers, eh?
MRS. DAVISH Sssh. They don’t like the connection to anything “dead”. Hidden Glade, it’s called these days. Yup, a backhoe tossed this man up and out like a ragdoll!
WHITNEY But where’d they find him?
MRS. DAVISH Heavens, I don’t know! You never saw such a frenzy of obfuscation! One of those houses around the lake they bulldozed is all I know. There’s no fact-getting at this late date.
(WHITNEY looks depressed – MRS DAVISH leans to stage whisper)
But they did have to call the cops!
(Sage nodding. WHITNEY perks up)
WHITNEY And why’s that?
MRS. DAVISH (Leans forward to whisper)
He was as full of lead as a shad full of roe! They took some out and left the other ones inside!
(Pats tombstone lovingly)
Died of “heavy metal” poisoning, poor old thing.
WHITNEY Wow! Not a popular guy.
MRS. DAVISH Either that, or he was far too popular to suit somebody.
(They laugh)
WHITNEY But couldn’t they tell what house he came from?
MRS. DAVISH I’m telling you they didn’t want to know! Tenants had been pushed out and disappeared long before.
(Pulls down an eyelid)
There’s none so blind as those who will not see.
WHITNEY I guess ancient corpses full of bullets are pretty blind, too.
MRS. DAVISH True, true. Who wants to buy a property that had a murder on it? Who signs up for a haunting? Said they owed it to the shareholders to hush things up. But truth is the daughter of time, not of authority, says the poet.
WHITNEY Surely somebody checked for missing people!
MRS. DAVISH Oh naturally. Naturally. But nobody was missing! Everyone accounted for. He was some poor stranger.
WHITNEY So maybe it was a “good riddance” situation.
MRS. DAVISH Most likely.
WHITNEY (Jubilant) Under the circumstances, then, I’d like to buy some flowers.
MRS. DAVISH The pinks are magnificent this time of year. Or acacia. Means “Secret love” in the language of flowers, not that anyone tries speaking that no more. But for those of us in the know, it lends a little added pleasure. Got some beautiful violets just coming into bloom.
WHITNEY The language of flowers, eh? So what do violets mean?
MRS. DAVISH Faithful love.
(Quoting)
“The faithful shall be rewarded,” that’s what the violets say.
(On the beach. Door in the house opens and CHARMAYNE, wearing only a filmy cover-up over her bikini, steps out exultantly to spread her arms to the moon)
CHARMAYNE Moon, Mother-Sister-Goddess, whose tears fertilize the world, I seek permission to penetrate your veil.
WHITNEY (Awkwardly standing) Er – Char –
CHARMAYNE Oh, my God, Whitney! You scared the life out of me. What are you doing here?
WHITNEY Sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you.
CHARMAYNE (Insulted)
I’m surprised, that’s all. You’re never here this late. Should I be flattered? What have you got there?
(WHITNEY proffers the bottle.)
WHITNEY I was trying to get up the nerve to speak to you.
CHARMAYNE Tequila?
(Laughs.)
WHITNEY It’s my drink. Want some?
CHARMAYNE Why couldn’t you just come to the door?
WHITNEY You were…with someone.
CHARMAYNE (Burbling laughter)
Ramon’s gone, you must have heard the television! Don’t be jealous of the television. You’re adorable! Give me some of that.
(Seats herself comfortably and takes the bottle)
WHITNEY Sorry I don’t have any cups.
CHARMAYNE Oh. Whitney, I’m the Queen of Cups, didn’t you know?
(Laughs and drinks)
Queen of bottles, too. So what did you want to talk to me about?
WHITNEY I wanted to ask your advice on something.
(Making it up on the spur of the moment)
I’ve got a problem at college, and you know all about men. My advisor is…handsy.
CHARMAYNE Handsy! There’s an expression I haven’t heard for awhile.
WHITNEY (Inspired) He’s a real – Casper the Grasper. He always pretends it’s a joke or a mistake. I don’t know what to do. He’s the head of the department. If I complain –
CHARMAYNE Never complain, Whit. Never settle. We’re better than that. You need to get even. Trust me, that’s where all the real satisfaction is.
(Takes another swig – offers it to WHITNEY who pretends to drink)
This is so much fun! I was yearning for a Girls Night Out!
(Puts her arm through WHITNEY’S)
This may amaze you, but I get lonely too. It’s a well-kept secret life can be lonely at the top. Finding my equal just gets harder and harder.
WHITNEY There’s Ramon –
CHARMAYNE Oh, please! Ramon’s just an employee and he knows it. Men! Even well-trained men are…a limited indulgence. And there’s one thing they can’t ever get right.
(Smacks WHITNEY’S thigh as she cuddles up to her)
This part.
(EIGHT looks over the boulder. WHITNEY seems emboldened by his presence)
WHITNEY So have you ever done it? Gotten even?
CHARMAYNE (Bragging)
I always get even. Nobody messes with me twice.
(Swig. She’s not even sharing the bottle anymore)
WHITNEY (Settling down for a story)
Tell me about it.
CHARMAYNE You’ll have to take off your clothes first.
(Uncomfortable moment. WHITNEY pulls away.)
Did you think offering me a drink would be enough to get me to unburden?
WHITNEY What are you talking about?
CHARMAYNE I need to know you’re not recording me, silly girl. I’ve been blackmailed by pros. What happens on Girls Night Out stays on Girls Night Out. Hos before bros. Come on. Hurry it up. Look at me, I’m not wearing anything.
WHITNEY (Peels down to her underwear)
Believe me, I’m not “recording” anything.
CHARMAYNE That’s what they all say. Knowledge backfires in the hands of the novice. Turn around. Let me look. Phone turned off?
(She runs her hand thru bra & panties)
You know what? I believe you. You couldn’t lie to save your soul. And you’re the most awful blusher, has anybody ever told you that? You blush with your whole body!
WHITNEY (Blushing)
I’m aware.
CHARMAYNE Lucky for you. People automatically trust blushers because blushing’s involuntary.
WHITNEY People trust me because they know I care about the truth.
CHARMAYNE Oh, bullshit! The truth! The Sacred Truth! There’s no such thing! There’s what happened and there’s what we think happened – who can tell the difference? OK, sit down. Take a load off. Have a drink to loosen you up.
(WHITNEY pretends to drink)
You’ve got a good body, you know that? Nice and hard. Lovely tone. You’re lacking a waist, that’s all. You inherited your father’s physique as well as his brains. It’s all about pluses and minuses. You have to work against the minuses. Men are prejudiced against waistless girls because their hard wiring makes them suckers for a certain waist to hip proportion. Did you know that? But we don’t care about them, do we? Who needs them? Prisoners of their reflexes! Born to mate! Man proposes, the goddess disposes!
WHITNEY Charmayne, you turn every conversation into a Whitney – critiqueathon. Why’s that?
CHARMAYNE Because you interest me, little Whit. You interest me extremely. You’re smart. The way your father was … at first.
WHITNEY (Refusing to be drawn. Grits her teeth to get through this.)
Please don’t talk about him. And don’t tell me to make myself gorgeous for Casper the Grasper.
CHARMAYNE Listen, if you were gorgeous he wouldn’t have the nerve to touch you.
WHITNEY I think the beautiful get harassed, too.
CHARMAYNE But they have more options. They can –
WHITNEY I want to hear about you. Tell me about that time that you got even.
CHARMAYNE (Very expansive)
There are so many! But let’s start at the beginning. Here’s something you didn’t know about me. I had a stepfather. You may complain about me, but the problem with you, Whit, is that you always take your good luck for granted. I never take anything for granted. I’m a day at the beach compared to that guy. Talk about “handsy”!
WHITNEY (Pretending to drink, then surrendering the bottle)
So what was he like?
CHARMAYNE What was he like? He was a monster, that’s what he was like. He was Death, the Hanged Man, the Tower. He thought he was the God of Wrath, that asshole. He was only a king of Destruction.
(Swigs from the bottle)
Destruction is easy. It’s creation that’s hard. It’s creating that takes it out of you. Every time I look in the mirror and recreate myself, I am spitting on his grave. He acted so convinced that I’d end up nothing, just like him. All he ever gave me was a spiral fracture of the arm.
WHITNEY (Shocked and appalled)
Why’d your Mom marry him?
CHARMAYNE She couldn’t believe he wanted to marry her! She’d never been married – God knows who my real father was. She thought if any vaguely presentable guy – even some unemployed wastrel on disability – proposes to you, you HAVE to say yes. She met him at the diner where she cooked. Oh, yeah, my Mom worked. And worked and worked. Two shifts a day. My step-dad was supposed to take care of me. She thought she’d hit the lottery to win some guy with a disability check and nothing but time on his hands to look after me for free. He used every second ratcheting up my misery. I couldn’t stay at school every minute, but you better believe I wanted to. I knew I had to go home to him eventually. But the joke was on him. He thought he was so smart but he sure underestimated me.
(She’s lost, now, talking to the audience)
What a scrawny, worthless loser! He knew the entire universe despised him so he thought he’d get himself a slave. Someone he could push around. I was eleven when he told me it was his duty to teach me about sex. He said that was what stepfathers were for.
WHITNEY But your Mom –
CHARMAYNE (Angrily)
Oh, my Mom knew perfectly well what was going on! It meant she didn’t have to cope with him!
(Returns attention to courting the audience, cultivating her reverie. WHITNEY muffles up to ease the flow)
Mom’s cooperation (I should say her silence, because she was way too fat to “cooperate”) could be bought with a carton of snack cakes.
My step-dad pretended I was ugly; that he could barely bring himself to touch me. He expected me to worship him. But he must have known that the moment I grew up I’d try to get away. Maybe he thought he could keep me forever, like a hostage. Once, when my girlfriends and I streaked our hair for a sleepover, he acted as if I had set the house on fire. Luckily it was the kind that washes out; otherwise I think he really would have shaved my head.
I remember exactly how scared I felt the first time I decided to ignore my stepfather’s dictates about how I should look and dress. My first day of high school I knew I couldn’t go in there looking like some Amish refugee. I had to step up my game. It was terror, rank terror, the kind that makes you wet yourself; but you know what enemies forget? That fear is the rocket fuel of rebellion. Remember that, Whitney. You’ll never experience an emotion like that; you’ve been too sheltered. My stepfather’s own possessive rage became the engine of his death.
I try not to think about him too often because my energy is the only thing that gives him life, but you know, I’m glad to share this with you. Open it up, get it out of my head. The memories are still there, perfect and crystal clear. Nothing that happened in all those years since packs that kind of punch. I was just beginning to realize that my stepfather couldn’t actually read my mind, had no eyes in the back of his head, could not see through walls, did not have spies everywhere, was not connected to the Mafia or the CIA. It was him or me. How could I destroy him?
That year Saturn and Mars were equally fiery, it was dry and there was a comet. Perfect for revolution. He was weakening and I was strengthening. Your father taught you that in chess queens rule: my step-dad was too stupid to know it. So our battles escalated. I was getting as tall as he was; he must have figured his fists and penis were no longer sufficient to control me. One day he produced a gun. His idea was that we would have a threesome, little me, paralyzed with fear, and Superman with his two dicks. My idea was different.
He knew I was afraid of the cellar. He used to lock me down there for punishment when I was little. As a child, I thought it was the mouth of hell; a dirt hole stinking like a sewer clawed out beneath the bowels of the house. When he pushed me down there I never even passed the top step but just clung to the doorknob, eye pressed to the light crack, wailing for release.
(A slug of fast-vanishing booze. Turns her attention back to WHITNEY)
Will is a muscle, Whit; you can train it just the way you train the body. I had transcended so many fears already; why couldn’t I outgrow this one? What is the fear of confrontation, really, but the fear of change? What is the fear of being caught but the fear of ultimate failure, of not being powerful enough? Poisoning him didn’t work – I tried that – hoping to make his death look accidental; so, what if he simply disappeared? Nobody except his bar buddies would even notice he was gone. And they were way too fuzzyheaded to stage any meaningful hunt. Mom could just keep cashing his checks. Who would know? And she owed me. He’d overstayed his welcome on this planet; neither of us needed a babysitter any more. If weapons are engines of confrontation, Whitney, both of us could use them.
That was when I fell in love with power, Whitney. I had to, and you can too, or you’ll never get anywhere. Let me be your teacher.
(Strokes WHITNEY’s hair, uses finger for a gun)
Pop, pop, pop, and “pop” is gone. I knew how to cock the pistol; I knew how to release the safety because I’d seen him do it countless times. If the cellar was dirty and stinky, and no one ever went down there, why couldn’t I bury him where nobody would ever look?
So, while he was out buying smokes I fired up my nerve and took a flashlight down to check it out. That wooden staircase rocked like it was going to collapse, but I told myself it had only to hold me two more times. There were bugs, just as I feared; centipedes and worms, but now I saw them as my friends. Let them eat the bastard up; if only they’d chew his bones as well. The walls were caving in; hunks of unhewn stone overpowered by tree roots. Then I saw my blessing. A wooden well cover. I knew the time was now.
I recalled the furor when the county forced us on to public water. My step-dad raged that fluoridation was a commie plot. And all that time the old well was down there. Water in the bottom reflected my flashlight as I leaned over. It was even set flush with the floor; what could be easier? I practiced moving the wooden cover; no problemo. The only difficulty now was to get him down here with the gun.
So I told him I heard rats; I knew he longed for targets; especially in front of me. When I said they were scratching at the door, he was ready to go.
But he liked being a man of surprises, fancying he was in control. He made me go down first, carrying the flashlight and a garbage bag. That meant I couldn’t tackle him from behind the way I’d planned. It cut down on my time for action, because as I think I said before, the place was just a tiny hole. He would see I was a liar.
But if he had surprises, I had ideas. The garbage bag gave me a good one. I had a friend who earnestly believed violence engenders hauntings, but she didn’t see her own death coming. But if what she said is true, that cellar’s haunted forever by me in a red sweater, red kilt and plaid tights; and my step-dad wearing a garbage bag over his head while we struggled for the gun. I had to drop the flashlight; it shot a crazy, useless stream of light across the floor; we were in darkness.
He was wiry and desperate and amazingly strong, but I had the gun two-handed and I would not have let it go if the world around me exploded into flames. I discovered in that moment the secret of power, Whit, if you want something with your whole being, if you have not one cell of doubt, you are invincible. I had to kick his crotch to loosen up his grip, but the gun came to me pre-cocked. What an idiot! I shot him right through the bag. That gun kicked like a rattlesnake. I shot him again and again and again, and one of the bullets somehow came back to graze me in the face. Doesn’t bother me. This chip along my cheekbone – see? I wear it as a badge of honor.
(Demonstrates to WHITNEY)
I still have that gun. I can show you if you want to see it.
(She’s slurring her words now. Shakes the empty bottle.)
There’s another one that fell before The Queen of Swords! Think we should put a message in this thing? What would we say?
(Pulls arm back to throw bottle into the audience, sits down hard)
WHITNEY So you’re telling me to shoot my way out?
(CHARMAYNE laughs. shakes & holds her head)
CHARMAYNE Oh, Whitney, you’re always so literal! Your father hoped you’d be a lawyer. Wow, am I drunk. Guess I should have eaten dinner, but who wants to eat alone? Don’t be so silly, Whit. You can’t dip your hand in the same river twice. Your guy’s got weaknesses is all I’m saying. Search – searching –
(Seems like she’s losing track of her thoughts)
You’ve got to search them out. I can’t do everything for you. Learn to defend yourself. No one helps anyone else and the sooner you find that out, the better off you’ll be.
(Throws herself on her back)
Look at those stars, Whit. So many stars. Every star’s a lost soul, struggling for a piece of sun. Did you know I can’t sleep, Whit? I haven’t slept in days. But, I think I can sleep now. There’s something so safe, so reassuring about you.
(Loud snoring. EIGHT and WHITNEY stand over her looking down)
WHITNEY Should we move her?
EIGHT Don’t disturb her. Jeez, when she goes down, she goes down hard.
(CHARMAYNE reaches up scrabbling at the air.)
CHARMAYNE I hear you! What did you say?
(Burps)
This has been so fun. Look out, there’s two of you!
(Rolls over, cuddles up in WHITNEY’s clothes. WHITNEY tries to cover herself – EIGHT lends her his Hawaiian shirt)
WHITNEY I don’t – thanks.
EIGHT Hey, it’s a beautiful night.
WHITNEY Well, they say confession is good for the soul. But you have to have a soul.
EIGHT I’m sure she’s got something left way down deep in there. But it’s probably a poor, stubby, underfed little thing. You take off, I’ll watch over her.
(The Hamptons. Lights up on WHITNEY, sitting against the boulder, staring out at the ocean, drinking from a bottle of tequila. EIGHT approaches and sits beside her silently.)
EIGHT What? No door hammering? Your fists must be sore.
WHITNEY I’m waiting for her to come out and swim. She usually does – when the moon is full. Then I’m going to brain her with this bottle. Which will be empty at that point.
(EIGHT takes the bottle away)
EIGHT Save the tequila for her. You catch more flies with the tequila than by trying to smash them drunkenly with a bottle.
WHITNEY Hey, but at least I’d feel better.
EIGHT Let’s play a game. Role-play with me. What were you planning to say to her?
WHITNEY (Screwing up her face with struggle)
I guess… nothing. She scares me so badly I can’t think. You should hear the way she talks to me! I can’t break through this “I’m a great lady and you’re a poor little supplicant” routine. I was planning on getting drunk and then maybe having enough courage to wing it.
EIGHT This sounds like HER game plan. Deer in the headlights.
WHITNEY Well, it’s working.
(She tries to wrestle the bottle away – he keeps tight control)
Hey! It’s MY bottle!
EIGHT Wait for it to hit you before you pack on more. You probably need every bit of this for her – she strikes me as a hard drinker. Take my word for it, booze and ocean are a dangerous combination.
WHITNEY Is that so?
EIGHT I know from personal experience.
WHITNEY Is that how you died?
EIGHT (Points to his chest)
Me? Last time I checked I was a conscious, breathing human being.
WHITNEY I’ve been seeing too many ghosts lately. I guess some of them aren’t even dead yet.
EIGHT (Sits down beside her)
Lay off of that stuff if you want to know what’s real.
(Long lingering kiss)
That real enough for you?
WHITNEY (She stares at him a long time)
I’m not sure. I think I need another one.
(He obliges.)
EIGHT Ready to tell me what happened?
WHITNEY And here I was figuring you were all knowing!
EIGHT It’s easy to be all knowing about someone else’s business. It’s my own that has me stumped. Share what you discovered.
WHITNEY Well, you sent me spinning off to confront her and get my fortune read. She told me some people don’t have souls.
EIGHT She’s lying. I’m all-knowing enough about that.
WHITNEY She says people lose their souls.
EIGHT She’s messing with you. Don’t believe a word she says.
WHITNEY So after we find out she’s an identity thief whose prey has mysteriously disappeared you send me dancing off to see who else she’s murdered. Guess what! Turns out here WAS a guy, she probably did it but we’ll never prove it.
EIGHT What makes you so sure?
WHITNEY The police destroyed the evidence! On purpose!
(She leans toward him and whispers conspiratorially)
“GRASSY KNOLL”
. EIGHT You can still win this. Even with incompetent police, bedfellow prosecutors and bribable jailers you can win this.
WHITNEY Why’s that?
EIGHT Karma. Also known as, what comes around goes around.
WHITNEY We WISH.
EIGHT All you need’s more time. Cons simply can’t get away with it forever. Call it “hanging in there”. You have to let destiny know that you won’t let go.
WHITNEY Did you say “Destiny?” That was her stripper name!
EIGHT See? It started already! Be as wily as a serpent and as gentle as a dove.
WHITNEY I think I aced the “gentle” part.
EIGHT So all you need is wily. Ever asked yourself why she wastes time with you? Hasn’t she got everything she wants? What’s she hanging around here for?
WHITNEY She enjoys torturing people, and the better she knows them the more fun it is.
EIGHT Maybe. I think she needs something from you and you need to figure out what that is.
WHITNEY She did say I reminded her of herself. I was so horrified I almost upchucked.
EIGHT There you go! She’s looking for an heir! A protégée!
WHITNEY She actually used that word!
EIGHT See? You’re on your way!
WHITNEY But why me?
EIGHT
Maybe she’s lonely.
WHITNEY Why not somebody more malleable? Who LIKES her and is impressed by her?
EIGHT Maybe you represent a challenge. She’s probably in awe of you. Maybe she’s a little bit in love with you.
WHITNEY As if! She’s always talking about how terrible my body is and how I need to get it fixed.
EIGHT Talks about your body, does she? I think we’re onto something.
WHITNEY She doesn’t “fall in love”, she tries to seduce people. It isn’t the same thing.
EIGHT Maybe she thinks it is. Here, Whit. I’ve got something for you. I’ve got something for you.
(Reaches in his pocket and hands her small object.)
WHITNEY What’s this? A bullet?
EIGHT I’m a treasure hunter, right? There I was minding my own business sweeping this particular patch of beach and your stepmother came out of her house and took a shot at me. So I waited to find the bullet and then I dug it out.
WHITNEY She shot at you?
EIGHT More than once, using some very unladylike language.
(Puts her hand on his heart)
Yes, my heart’s still pumping, no thanks to your stepmother. She damn near killed me.
WHITNEY And here I was wondering if she conjured you up out of her medieval imagination!
EIGHT Not hardly.
WHITNEY So what are you proposing I do with this thing?
EIGHT Humans are pattern makers, Whit. Pattern makers and pattern finders. If her pattern gets big enough everyone’s gonna see it.
WHITNEY (Studying the bullet)
Patterns, eh?
EIGHT Right. Sometimes when we see them they aren’t even there. That’s why waiting for the come around to go around is so important.
WHITNEY I don’t like waiting. Tell me what you’ve figured out about my stepmother so far.
EIGHT Look at this place.
(Waves a hand expansively)
I think she’s a trophy-collector.
WHITNEY That’s for sure. Every day she puts on a necklace belonging to the woman who disappeared. Imagine what she’s thinking!
EIGHT Maybe other people aren’t even real to her. She goes shooting up and down this beach, like she’s the only person in the universe. That blindness makes her lonely I’m guessing. And sloppy for sure.
WHITNEY So the gun itself could be a trophy?
EIGHT Why not? And even if she destroyed that gun, she’d never find all those bullets.
WHITNEY You’re thinking she shot somebody?
EIGHT I’d call that most probable.
WHITNEY But how am I going to find out who’s got her bullet in them?
EIGHT Ask her.
WHITNEY Ask her! Are you out of your mind? I can’t do it!
EIGHT Sure you can. You don’t know your own strength. Bet she loves to brag.
WHITNEY You know, she does.
EIGHT She’s probably irritated that the world hasn’t yet caught on to how clever she’s been, how superior she is. She’s fooled everyone and they don’t even know it. You don’t need me. You can catalogue all your stepmother’s weaknesses for yourself by now.
WHITNEY Well, I know she loves hanging all over me pushing her disgusting “advice”.
EIGHT Maybe her prime weakness is you.
WHITNEY Me? Never! According to her there’s nothing “right” about me.
EIGHT I’d say that lady protests too much. Look at it. You’re the only person she hasn’t been able to fool. She needs to win you over.
WHITNEY I think her weakness is Time. It’s running out on her and she’s got to know it.
EIGHT I think you underestimate your powers of attraction. But let’s say I agree with you. Explain your last statement.
WHITNEY I think the only things she really covets are power, youth and beauty. In fact, she staked her life on them.
EIGHT Then she’s looking at trouble, isn’t she? Makes her whole future is a disaster area.
WHITNEY (Realizing it fully)
Sure looks like it.
EIGHT So maybe you should tell her fortune, for once.
WHITNEY That wouldn’t work! She’d never believe me.
EIGHT But Time, Power, Youth & Beauty – they’re are all on your side. Cave! Here she comes.
WHITNEY What makes you think so? I don’t see her. Time to admit it; you’re otherworldly.
EIGHT I’ve got a highly developed sense of smell for sulfur. Don’t you worry. I’m gonna be right here.
(Lights up on Strip club., “Guilty Pleasures”. Pole, stage, café table with chairs on top. MR BUTTERBATCH wearing apron is sweeping floor. Enter WHITNEY with wheeled suitcase)
WHITNEY Didn’t this club used to be The Gentleman’s Secret?
BUTTERBATCH Long, long ago. Are you the new dancer?
WHITNEY Not hardly.
BUTTERBATCH Well, that’s lucky.
(Shakes his head.)
WHITNEY I’m looking for the owner.
BUTTERBATCH Oh, the owners never come in. Day manager arrives after eleven.
WHITNEY Maybe you can help me. Were you here sixteen years ago?
BUTTERBATCH Lady, I’ve been here since the beginning of time. Butterbatch is the name. Butter by name and bachelor by nature.
WHITNEY You’re just who I’m looking for…if your memory is any good.
(Takes down a chair and sits exhaustedly)
BUTTERBATCH My memory is fantastic. It’s pretty much all I’ve got these days. What is it that you want to know exactly? Are you implying I’m too old to know anything because I said you were too fat to be a dancer?
WHITNEY Did you say that?
BUTTERBATCH No. I’m polite. So maybe you shouldn’t go casting aspersions.
WHITNEY Honestly I wasn’t casting aspersions. I’m too tired to cast aspersions. I’ve been up all night, flying standby.
BUTTERBATCH (Vigorously sweeping)
Traveling steerage, were you? Well, that was dumb. That one’s on you.
WHITNEY Let’s start over. I’m investigating a murder.
BUTTERBATCH We’ve got two. Bar fight 96 or stage manager 99?
WHITNEY (Eyes popping)
Stage manager 1999! Wow! You get right to it.
BUTTERBATCH See? You’ve come to the right place. I know everything. We oldsters are the guardians of the past. Not that anyone cares these days. Crime shows don’t like unsolved crimes. Can’t get the media interested. What’s the “spin” is all they want to know. I can answer any question you’ve got but first, I’ve got a little question of my own.
(Getting comfortable leaning on his broom)
What’s it to you?
WHITNEY I don’t understand.
BUTTERBATCH Of course you don’t understand, that’s what I’m here for. I’m gonna explicate. But first you’ve got to riddle me this; Why ya wanna know?
WHITNEY Oh. Well, I think I know who might have killed that guy.
BUTTERBATCH Really? Cold case like that? Why ain’t you talkin’ to the police?
WHITNEY Because I need to talk to you first.
(Shows her phone)
Recognize this woman?
BUTTERBATCH I’m not sure. She wasn’t a waitress, I can tell you that, and she wasn’t a patron any night I was here. But those dancers – they change. Wigs, makeup. Costumes. They transform themselves. Professional chameleons.
WHITNEY Her name was Pearleen Purdy.
BUTTERBATCH Oh, Pearleen! Of course I remember her. Destiny! She barely used the pole! She worked the edge of the stage. Everyone remembers her. I’ve got guys that still ask about her. Poor Lester Westerhaven ain’t never got over her.
WHITNEY Destiny?
BUTTERBATCH That was her stage name. On account of the palm reading. Yup, she had quite a following. Now I always thought she was kind of scary.
WHITNEY You did? Why?
BUTTERBATCH She had these terrible eyes. She looked at people like she was trying to figure out how much space they took up and whether she could relieve them of it. Gave me the heebie-jeebies. You think Pearleen killed Burt?
WHITNEY Tell me more about these “heebie-jeebies”.
BUTTERBATCH You know how when women, like, go for things they want, they go all roundabout? Making nice? Playing coy? She wasn’t like that at all! She told you what she wanted right up front! The audience never saw that part. But when she was looking at everybody, it was like she was looking at nobody. I always felt like this was her world and the rest of us were just passing through.
WHITNEY So what did she want?
BUTTERBATCH Well, not me, I can tell you that much. And not Burt either, though he was pretty handsy. Casper the Grasper the girls called him. She was dating a couple of customers, I seem to remember. Rich guys. Married guys. She blew through Lester’s little stash like he was standing still.
WHITNEY (Reads her phone)
Says here Burt was found dead at nine AM June 16.
BUTTERBATCH By yours truly! You never saw such blood! Handcuffed to his chair; throat slit with a frog-gigger. Nasty little knife. Right here in the office. Blood everywhere!
(Shivers)
WHITNEY A frog-gigger?
BUTTERBATCH I’m still not over it. But you know I just don’t see how a little thing like Pearleen could manhandle a fellow that size! Burt was 250 pounds of hard blubber! Even handcuffed to a chair…
WHITNEY How about surprise? I mean, what if she just came up behind him? Say he was blindfolded.
BUTTERBATCH That would work. Now you’re talking. And he could have been high. He liked to be high when he thought he was gonna get some.
WHITNEY So what happened to Pearleen? Where was she at the time of the murder? Or after it?
BUTTERBATCH Who knows! You kidding me? Them dancers scattered like cockroaches in the sunlight! Half of ‘em were undocumented and the rest were violating parole. Everybody’s wanted for something or other.
WHITNEY But who had a motive?
BUTTERBATCH Everyone had a motive with Burt! Yours truly excepted, natch. Burt was the drug connection. The police pounced right on the drug angle because his stash was missing. Nobody wanted to be connected to that. Nobody even went to the poor guy’s funeral. It was just me and the owners. This place closed down entirely for a couple of weeks. We had to reopen under a new name, new dancers, everything.
WHITNEY Anything else you can tell me about Pearleen?
BUTTERBATCH Oh, she was a fortuneteller. She’d look deep in your eyes – right through to the back of your head – pretending to read your palm. Oh, my God! Gives me the shiverbumps now.
WHITNEY She never told your fortune?
BUTTERBATCH (Shudders) Heck no. I stay away from that stuff. Feels like they’re trying to put a mark on you. Somebody gives you a fortune, it might come true. I like to keep the future unexpected. Keeps life interesting. I wasn’t expecting you, see? Keeps me alert. And I’m still here, aren’t I?
WHITNEY This is just what I needed. Thanks for all your help.
BUTTERBATCH (Calling after her)
Off to the police? Planning to star on one of them crime shows?
WHITNEY Why not?
BUTTERBATCH Don’t waste your breath. They “lost” all the evidence. It’s just another grassy knoll!
(Punctuates with finger commas.)
Lost the evidence! That’s what I’m telling you. Thing they said was, “We don’t have the room to store all that stuff.”
WHITNEY Who said that?
BUTTERBATCH Cold case guy. I called him up because Burt’s dealer turned up dead in a mobile home out on Rt. 80. You’re not the only one wants to star in a crime show. I said should they take DNA for Burt’s case and they told me –
WHITNEY Evidence destroyed. Just my luck.
(Wheels suitcase away, staggering.)
BUTTERBATCH Don’t take it so hard. What comes around goes around. I always say.
WHITNEY And that helps how?
BUTTERBATCH Nobody gets away with nothing, not in my experience. Say, you’re sure you don’t want to audition? Talking to you now, I see a glimmer of light beneath that bushel of yours. Could be hidden talent. Let ‘er out and let ‘er rip. Tips here are very good.
(Behind WHITNEY’S back appears an old man dressed for fishing. He carries a tackle box and two fishing rods.)
WHITNEY (Shouting after EIGHT) Some “master of the elements” you are. Scared of a little chill!
DR. QUANTREAU Whitney? Ready to go fishing? The bluefish are running.
WHITNEY (Overcome)
Dad! Dad! Oh, my God! Dad!
DR. QUANTREAU Don’t touch me. I’m covered with hooks.
(He casts a line)
WHITNEY (Confused)
Dad, you can’t catch bluefish from here!
DR. QUANTREAU Whitney, you’re forgetting that I’m dead. I can do anything I want.
WHITNEY (Collapsing emotionally)
Dad, you’ve left everything in a mess!
DR. QUANTREAU I don’t think so. You seem fine to me.
WHITNEY Dad, Charmayne is some kind of monster! She kills people who get in her way! She probably killed you!
DR. QUANTREAU What does that matter now? It was my time to go.
(Casting, moving up the beach.)
WHITNEY This is NOT the way I imagined it.
DR. QUANTREAU Nothing ever is.
WHITNEY Let me put it this way, Dad. You married a lying, greedy, murderous stripper!
DR. QUANTREAU Not bad for a deteriorating old geezer, huh?
(WHITNEY is gob smacked. Watches him silently for a while.)
WHITNEY (Mustering all her energy)
Well, I’m not letting her get away with it.
DR. QUANTREAU Forget it, Whitney. Allow an old man to have his fun. I made plenty of money for everybody. Let it go.
WHITNEY Dad! She made you beg for water! I saw it!
DR. QUANTREAU Adults play games, Whitney. Conflict makes life interesting; keeps the fish fresh. I guess you wouldn’t understand. You were always so serious.
WHITNEY You made me serious! You wanted me serious! You said life was serious.
DR QUANTREAU (Reflects)
Besides, I probably deserved it. Ever heard that expression “what goes around comes around?” I made your mother beg for money. We all did it. I regret it now.
(Shrugs)
You should have seen the faces on the other guys when I brought Charmayne to the club!
(Cackles gleefully)
Were they jealous! Didn’t know I had it in me!
(Wandering away into the “water” – into the audience)
WHITNEY (Calling after him despondently)
Dad, don’t go! Let’s talk about…things. We never talked about real things. We only talked about…history. Why Alexander the Great didn’t need armies as big as the people he attacked.
DR. QUANTREAU Honey, I don’t have to worry about “things” any more. Or Alexander the Great. You could come fishing with me. I love fishing. I get to fish all the time.
WHITNEY (With a passion)
I see now I’ve always hated fishing. It’s the most boring activity on the planet.
DR. QUANTREAU I like it. It relaxes me. It’s just a game, Whit. Our games define us. Elevate your game, Whit.
WHITNEY You against some nine pound fish! Like that’s fair!
DR. QUANTREAU Honey, no one cares about fairness. Fairness is impossible. Expertise, that’s the thing. Self-improvement. Mastering whatever it is you set out to do.
(Casts)
WHITNEY But you keep leaving me, again and again, over and over! Don’t you still love me?
DR. QUANTREAU Of course I love you, Whitney. And Darby and McKenzie and Charmayne and your mother – what was her name? Doris. I loved Doris and before her I loved Edna. But the fish are running! See them go? If the fish are running, I’ve got to follow! Goodbye, Whitney! Be a good girl.
(Exit.)
WHITNEY (Shouting after him)
You’re just a figment of my adolescent imagination!
(Bursts into tears sobbing her heart out.)
I refuse to take advice from ghosts.
(Dries her tears, sighs, takes out her phone)
Unsolved murders in Branson, Missouri…what was it? Fourteen years ago?
Alysse Aallyn 