Some People Prefer Risk. They don’t feel alive unless the situation is dangerous. What kind of goddess are you? The dangerous kind? Can you rush eternity? A hastened Immortality might not happen. More typical is ambivalence. We both want and don’t want – at the same time.
How Many Different Goddesses Are You? Sometimes we dream disturbingly about things we don’t want and people we aren’t. Feminists dream of rape, vegetarians dream of meat, pacifists dream of fighting. It’s confusing. What gives?
Language Isn’t Subtle Enough to Explain You – Your personality manifests all feelings, all thoughts, all ideas, rippling through you in a vast subconscious river. Everyone’s does; not only those who choose to be Immortal. Your unconscious connects with the “collective unconscious” of all other humans – dead, alive, even fictional. They ripple through you regularly. That’s where all your ‘strange thoughts” and “other personalities” come from.
Why isn’t “hate-love” a word? You experience that regularly. How about “fear-attraction”? Common! What I’m suggesting is that we need to accept the fact that a “personality” is a dynamism, not a label.
Goddess Challenge – Facing your own fluid multiplicity might seem the toughest part, but it isn’t for artists, who routinely “play” along their edge, peeking over it and imagining life on the other side. Art is the best way to express this, an enormous relief since it’s non-committal. You can stop experimenting any time you choose. It’s a goddess power also. Of course, you’ll have to face the surprise of your relatives when your work becomes public: “Where did THAT come from?” But if truth be told, we’ve always been surprised we’re related to those people.
Goddess Danger – Society seeks to label, limit and stigmatize. Everyone is afraid of becoming what they fear but Goddesses need to explore and ultimately manage our fear. A simple safe word won’t work when people – bankers, politicians, therapists, employers – are so fundamentally untrustworthy. That is why our identification of ourselves as Brave Goddess is so vital. The vastness of our potential can never be controlled by language. We will never be butterflies pinned down in a museum box for the instruction/curiosity of others.
Goddess Opportunity – Appreciate your Multiplicitous Self. Don’t slam the door on any of your potentialities too soon. Sometimes the worst labeler, the most determined jailor, is our own punitive psyche. We are deeply afraid of wandering in the forest and losing the way to get home safe. But Goddesses carry Home within them. As Nelson Mandela used to quote from his prison cell, if we are the captains of our souls we can be the masters of our fates. (Henley.) We can learn to tolerate a little ambiguity/uncertainty/ambivalence.
Goddess Tolerate Uncertainty – Being a goddess is all about balance. The experience of balance-seeking is indescribable linguistically – it must be felt experientially. Goddesses learn to live in a world beyond language where we can savor uncertainty and foretaste eternity.
Goddess Relish Paradox – Two contraries not only exist together but empower each other – that creative tension is the lifeblood of emotion, imagination and personality.
Goddess Coast on the Knife-Edge of Ambivalence – The desired is undesirable, the only possibility is impossible and the act of wanting forbids getting. In the Multiverse (Eternity) all your impossibles are actually happening. Goddesses must become comfortable with the pleasures of this dance: “My future dissolves in beads of sweat, my present is my mirror, my past’s a shape-shifting whirligig.” (Aallyn)
Even Leaders Must Contemplate the Power of Surrender – We contemplate Everything. Physics is magic and dreams embody history. This quantum world of “spooky entanglements” is one in which we goddesses become expert. We accept not only that the cave we fear holds the treasure we desire, but that we are both cave and treasure, indeed, fear itself.
Models & Mentors – “It seems we are capable of immense love and loyalty and as capable of deceit and atrocity. It is this shocking ambivalence that makes us unique.” – John Scott
“Ambivalence is a wonderful tune to dance to. It has a rhythm all its own.”
– Erica Jong
“The Simpsons is about alienation and the ambivalence of living with a family who you love but drives you crazy”
– Matt Groening
“Poetry is the home of ambiguity, ambivalence and uncertainty.” – Billy Collins
To Become a Goddess Is to Accept Your Power. But power is fearsome. We are all familiar with fires that escape control, rage-fueled emotional spirals, explosives that blow up their wielders and the dangers of endlessly escalating weaponry. Once the Goddess’ unleashes power, much can go wrong.
The Power is there whether you claim it or not. To abjure your power is to deny your personhood – something women and marginalized groups have always been commanded to do. If you try to get in touch with your personal power, won’t you tempt established Power to come after you?
Power is About More than Control and bending unfriendly circumstances to your desire and will. It is the process of fulfilling your natural growth pattern, becoming the person God always intended you to be. You have an immortal mandate but you must claim it.
You Are Iconic –Goddesses invoke more than magic, they exemplify the inherent magic that is especially, irreplaceably Individuated Self. You have a power no one else has, incorporated in your being, your possibilities, your desires and your memories. This takes a lifetime to accept because we all nervously want to be Someone Else and experience existence through the armor of Having only an Outside instead of just the very vulnerable Inside in which we all feel imprisoned.
Only Illegitimate Power Will Fear You – The Universe that God created accepts a glorious new creature fulfilling their immortal mandate, while stolen power – the desire to crush, to control and to drain – will be forced to reveal itself in the fullness of its jealous evil.
Dreams Will Instruct You – Your dreams bring all these passions together as psychic poetry, elucidating what you think you want, what you hope you want and what you are afraid you want. The ultimate magic is to seize conscious control of this potent power source.
Goddess Challenge – The challenge is to truly connect with others, reveal our world Inside, and avoid blasting their apparently impenetrable Outside with our terror, our longing and our fear. As the demons come after you, you will deploy the skills and techniques of dissembling, transmutation, transformation, mirror-magic and emotional mastery. The demons are hungry, pathetic in their eternal emptiness.
Goddess Danger – We cannot take hostages and we must never become a hostage. Freedom is a fine line to walk. If we wish to reach out, we must treat those struggling to stand upright with respect and demand like respect for ourselves. Accept your “experiments”; do not fear them but allow them to take you where you need to go.
Goddess Opportunities – There will be stumbles and terrors aplenty, also successes that LOOK like stumbles and terrors, but which we only realize on reflection were real leaps forward. This is why we must carefully assess our daily efforts without being harsh with ourselves. Speak gently to yourself as you would to a most beloved child. You are the Universe’s Own Beloved Child. It is not selfish to commit to this belief, it is simply placing the oxygen mask over your own face FIRST so that you can administer this life-saving force to others. Find someone with whom you can share your journey, without fear or judgment. This connection will teach us everything we need to know about how to connect with others.
Fear & Trembling: Where would we ever get the courage to become goddess? Human history begins with an enormous fear of the Almighty or whatever is causing all that lightning, those earthquakes and striking everybody down. Killing small helpless, pretty things was meant to be flattering and propitiatory to this God (I don’t get it either.) Then Jesus arrived with a message about how God was really loving, generous and wanted the best for us. We know how that turned out.
Becoming a Goddess: As children, we struggled to understand where we fit on the power spectrum. I tried killing a snake, and experimented with bullying other children the way I was bullied. I didn’t care for it. The only relief was in thinking about, researching and understanding the philosophical concepts about what was going on. My earliest researches, as for many children, were in astronomy and dinosaurs. The cold magnificence of the planets and the complete wipeout of the dinosaurs gave me a way to stand back from the immediate suffering of the schoolyard. I then moved on to the early Egyptians who tried to solve their problems through magic and art. The art was visually appealing and the magic was emotionally soothing.
Pick Your Battles: I saw that most schoolyard fights were a reaction to the immediate suffering of pain or confusion, and that they magnified, rather than solved, those problems. There was a manifest holiness about this discovery. It rescued me from the torture of everyday life and elevated me to a plane where every other contributing thinker had already become immortalized.
Study & Strategy: I read everything I could get my hands on in history and biography (research) and in fairy tales (magic). When I fell in love with the novels of C.S. Lewis and Rumer Godden, the world judged my taste good – when I discovered Agatha Christie, it did not – but it turned out everyone else was reading her too. Agatha is a short course on human nature (original sin) and a proponent of both the scientific and Socratic methods. She’s great training for a Goddess. I wrote it all down in my Training Journal.
Claiming Your Power: By the time you’re a teenager you can see you have some power – some mental, some physical. The question is developing it and finding appropriate gurus. It is key to step out of the dominance/submission game.
Keep Going – Recognize that you have been touched by the goddess and honor her by being grateful for the glorious gifts of life.
Models & Mentors: “I did not deceive you. I permitted you to deceive yourself.” Agatha Christie
“An Indian proverb says everyone is a house with four rooms – physical, mental, spiritual and emotional. Most of us live in one room or the other but if you don’t visit each room each day you are not a complete person.” – Rumer Godden
“You are never too old to dream a new dream or set a new goal”
SCENE XI – FARRELL RESIDENCE. (ZOYA, festively dressed excitable little woman with dyed hair teeters forward on high heels)
ZOYA
Stevie!
(She clutches CHASE, kissing him everywhere)
Oh Stevie, Stevie, I was so afraid you wouldn’t come.
CHASE
Miss your birthday? How could I possibly? And I brought a friend.
(JAZZ wavesnervously)
JAZZ
(Awkwardly extending plant)
Happy Birthday.
(Painfully obvious this is way too big a plant for this tiny person)
ZOYA
(Making no move to take it)
Oh, my. That looks so…interesting. Well come in, come in.
( JAZZ unloads plant on hall table, looking around, awed. ZOYA regards plant apprehensively.)
ZOYA
I suppose I’m ancient, dry and prickly just like this plant. Does it come with directions?
JAZZ
It’s a Christmas cactus. It’s going to have three blooms. See?
ZOYA
(Without enthusiasm)
Lovely.
(Clings to CHASE)
It’s so wonderful to see you!
(She squeezes him)
Look how tall you’ve gotten.
CHASE
(hugs her)
Good to see you, Mom. You’re looking well.
JAZZ
Sorry I’m not dressed for a party.
CHASE
Jazz had kind of a disaster. Somebody jumped out of her dorm room window.
(JAZZand CHASEexchange looks)
ZOYA
How terrible! Were they badly hurt?
CHASE
(With relish)
Killed, Mom. Dead.
(His mother backs away, looking at the pair of them)
ZOYA
Do they give you an automatic A and send you home?
CHASE
Urban legend, Mom. You’ve got to stop believing myths.
(His mother strikes him lightly on the arm)
ZOYA
I never know when you’re teasing.
CHASE
If Jazz could borrow something of Cyanne’s…?
ZOYA
(Recollecting she’s the hostess)
Of course, of course. Cyanne has way too many clothes. She’s always shopping. You look about the same size. She’d say yes but she’s away at college. She’s pledging my sorority. Quick drink before you freshen up?
(An expression almost of panic)
Because I’ve got to get back – back to the kitchen.
(Backs away as if dragged – exit)
CHASE
My Mom always bakes her own birthday cake.
JAZZ
Why didn’t you tell me your mother hates plants?
(Gestures)
All these plants are fake.
CHASE
Mom says growth’s a lot of work.
JAZZ
(Mimes looking at family photos on the walls)
That you as a baby?
CHASE
The very same. Aren’t I adorable? You can’t tell which is me and which is Cyanne.
JAZZ
You all look so happy.
CHASE
Appearances can be deceiving.
JAZZ
So your real name’s Stevie.
CHASE
Steven. Now that you know it, forget it. Just another thing that’s gone.
JAZZ
You could have told me.
CHASE
Who knew we’d end up here? I’ve never been good at telling people things. The vortex assumed control.
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.
(Leonard & Virginia Woolf in the Conservatory at Dalingridge Hall)
VIRGINIA If only I could trust you.
LEONARD You can.
VIRGINIA But these drugs turn my brain to cotton wool. There’s a pattern behind the cotton wool, if only I could find it. Did you know the Duckworths, that incestuous race, were cotton merchants? Coining money from the cotton wool that packs me now. If only I could fight back! But my will is so fragmented. My theory is that we all live so dishonestly, unconsciously, disconnected and detached. You are such a stranger! Everything about you is different. That must be why I married you.
LEONARD Tell me everything, Virginia. Tell me what you fear, so we can kill it.
VIRGINIA Where does one begin? Last night I looked in the mirror beneath a pitiless light and suddenly a dreadful animal face showed itself behind me. He bellowed, he stared, his nostrils flared. The pig’s snout broke the mirror until my thighs ached. How could one forget the thrusting of that ugly snout, the snout that meant starvation, pain and death? The purple foaming stain. Somehow it was all my fault. Roars of laughter at my expense. Dream or was it a memory? All that’s left is hopeless sadness. Being dragged down into a pit of absolute despair. Powerlessness. Paralysis. That’s what I remember.
LEONARD Begin at the beginning.
VIRGINIA The beginning is insomnia. I lie awake at night listening to a senile old man gasping, croaking vile indecencies. I thought it was Father, having a fit of the horrors. But the nurse said it was only a cat. Or perhaps the beginning was the whooping cough. I think I knew happiness before I became so ill. The grownups laughed with me, not at me. Whooping cough steals the breath – none of us could breathe. The atmosphere was tangled, matted with emotion. All the children came down with it, all of us gasping. Mother ran from bed to bed until her skin was paper thin and the bones stood out. I used to wonder if Mother had traded my life for hers, until I remembered she preferred the boys. Women serve, men are served.
LEONARD But all of you recovered.
VIRGINIA They threw me into a tank with Gerald, the alligator. Drowning. I knew I must not sink. Couldn’t get my head above the whirlpool.
LEONARD Go on.
VIRGINIA They covered the mirrors when Mother died. I was thirteen. Vanessa was sixteen, Thoby fifteen. Stella was twenty-five, quite grown up. George was twenty-seven, Gerald twenty-four. Adrian was twelve. No one told me what was happening. I was taken to her bed to say good bye but Mother seemed reproachful, so condemning and stern. She said, “Hold yourself straight, little Goat.”
LEONARD Why were you called Goat?
VIRGINIA I was Goat because I couldn’t control my purple rages. The others hated that he talked to me and gave me books. He didn’t allow Stella to read Cousine Bette but said it couldn’t harm me, because I had read Gibbons on the fall of Rome.
LEONARD Did everyone have nicknames?
VIRGINIA Adrian was Wombat, Nessa was the Saint. Thoby was the Goth because he fought. Mother advised self-control to everyone but Father. My mother had two characters, I think. Her real self, and the Angel in the House. Stifler and the life-giver. And to this day I have the oddest feeling that I’m two people, too.
LEONARD Are you talking about the poet Coventry Patmore’s Angel in the House?
VIRGINIA Yes. Wasn’t she so popular? Singing, “Sacrifice. Sacrifice yourself.” I caught her by the throat and killed her. It was self-defense. I had to kill her or she would have killed me.
LEONARD Your mother died of pneumonia, Virginia. Don’t feel guilty, Children are disgustingly violent, every one of them. It’s a wonder anyone lives to grow up. I’ve decided brute strength is the enemy of thought – that’s why bullies rule and why we must all be pacifists and abjure force, even though it goes against our natures. Tell me, was this “angel” thing why Nessa was called Saint?
VIRGINIA No. That was because she was too proud to tell a lie. We hid from Father in the garden, and when he demanded, Didn’t we hear me calling? We all said No. Only Nessa said Yes. I told her she was an old fraud.
LEONARD Goat is the worst name, I think.
VIRGINIA No, that was Stella! She was the Cow, because she brought the milk.
LEONARD These nicknames are strangely degrading.
VIRGINIA I named myself Miss Jan. I so longed to be someone else. Laura was the worst of us but she was called Her Ladyship of the Lake.
LEONARD How old was Laura and why on earth was she called that?
VIRGINIA Laura was exactly Gerald’s age. But she was gone by the time mother died. Sent away, because she wouldn’t mind. Father said she was the Giver of the Sword because she forced him to punish her. Then she screamed so he had to punish her more. When Maitland was writing Father’s life he said that everything about Laura would have to be suppressed. Everyone hated Laura.
LEONARD Why did you hate her?
VIRGINIA Temper tantrums. We all had temper tantrums, but hers were worse. Father was still having them, but Mother could calm him.
LEONARD So, Laura went to an asylum?
VIRGINIA When I was ten. Until then she lived with a governess at the top of the house. At night, we heard her howling like an animal.
LEONARD Did your parents ever say what exactly was the problem?
VIRGINIA Mother said she was wicked. Father said she was perverse. Thoby thought she wouldn’t stop touching herself. I read all Father’s letters when I helped Maitland with his book. Father begged Mother to marry him to help with Laura.
LEONARD But she couldn’t help, could she?
VIRGINIA Abominable system, family life. It goes from ignorance and indifference to denial and contempt, open attack and ultimate destruction. None of it was Mother’s fault. She was always visiting the poor and making them clothes. I always thought the poor knew how to enjoy themselves better than we do, because we are cooped up, day after day while they walk out freely.
LEONARD Did you ever visit Laura?
VIRGINIA Once I went with Stella. Laura spoke only gibberish. The only comprehensible sentence was, “I told him to go away.” I couldn’t go back because that was where I saw the deformed men.
LEONARD I don’t understand why Stella was The Cow. Wasn’t she a young, beautiful girl?
VIRGINIA I thought her lovelier than Mother. She was so pale, so white, she looked like cow parsley by moonlight. I don’t think Mother loved her, really. She was Mother’s loyal handmaid. Stella taught us our letters. She was supposed to look after Father when Mother was gone, and Mother was absent a lot.
LEONARD Where did your mother go?
VIRGINIA Nursing the sick. Mother loved nursing the sick, she said they were easier than the well. She seemed always so far away, in her mind. When we spoke to her she looked through us as if she didn’t see us. While Mother was gone, Stella stood in for her.
LEONARD Didn’t Stella have a life of her own?
VIRGINIA She turned down proposals, I know that. Mother didn’t want her to marry. Cousin Jem was obsessed with her – we children were frightened of him.
LEONARD Cousin Jem? Wasn’t he the mad cousin?
VIRGINIA Yes, but before he was locked up, he conceived a passion for Stella. He would run into the house, shouting, while Stella fled up the front stairs. He pursued her, bellowing, right to the nursery where he speared our toast on his swordstick. I thought he looked like a tormented bull. Father said to tell him Stella wasn’t home, but Mother said she could never bar her door to Jem. She said she loved him and he needed us because he was banned from all his clubs. Once he abducted me and Mother.
LEONARD He abducted you?
VIRGINIA Yes, funny, I’d forgotten it till just this moment. I suppose that’s how memory works. He took us to his rooms because he wanted me to pose for him. Mother didn’t want to go, but she couldn’t stop him. As he painted, he declaimed his own poetry:
“if all the harm that were done by men were doubled and doubled and doubled again squared and raised to the power of ten there wouldn’t be nearly enough, not near to keep a small girl for a tenth of a year.”
LEONARD And you were a small girl.
VIRGINIA I was. The smallest. I never saw the picture.
LEONARD How did you get away?
VIRGINIA Did I get away? I don’t remember. I always stammered when I told him Stella wasn’t home so he knew I was lying. When he grabbed me by the collar I thought of the Ripper Man who had been in all the papers. This is what they must have felt, those women, when they were grabbed by Ripper Man. I’m afraid I wet myself and Nurse was angry. She punished everything I did, but I never listened to her. Nurse claimed all emotions like fear, dread, disgust – come from desiring the wrong food or not moving one’s bowels. Children must accept whatever’s given. If you show a preference, then that’s the very thing you’re not allowed to have. It’s as bad for a girl to cry for what she wants as for a boy to land a blow. Yet we did both, because Nurse was nobody.
LEONARD Cousin Jem was taken away to the madhouse. That was a good thing, surely.
VIRGINIA Where he starved himself to death, and that’s what I shall do if ever you lock me up in one of those places.
LEONARD Go back to your mother’s death.
VIRGINIA I didn’t know what had happened until I saw the nurses crying. I thought they were pretending and we should laugh at them but everyone pulled a face. I went to kiss Mother but she was cold as iron. I never touch iron without thinking of her. Father caromed off people and walls, seeking anyone to wail against. It was like being shut up in a cage with a wild beast.
LEONARD My family was rigidly quiet when my father died. Stiff upper lip, get on with it, try harder, everyone must buckle down. That sort of thing.
VIRGINIA A family is a conspiracy, driven by uncontrollable lusts. I saw a man sitting with mother’s corpse but the others saw no one there. We became unmoored, entering a time of hopeless suspense, muddle, mismanagement, battling the stupidity of those in power. It was as if a finger had been laid upon our lips, sentencing us to a sultry, opaque miasma that choked us and blinded us. Father shouted at Stella if she didn’t stock his writing paper or ordered too much fish. I knew it really was because she couldn’t tell him he was a first-rate writer, as mother always did. Stella had no mind and nobody respected her. Poor father was haunted by fears that he only had a third-class mind.
LEONARD And did he, do you think?
VIRGINIA His ego crippled him. Self-assertion is so loathsome. Father began writing The Mausoleum Book. About death. He wailed from the top of the stairs, “We perished, each alone.” Nothing is to be dreaded so much as egotism. Stella tried her best to rescue us. I wasn’t kind to her because she dragged me to the dentist and ordered all my clothes. I couldn’t bear standing for inspection while being stuck with pins. She was made me wear stays for the first time. Then Stella fell in love.
LEONARD With Jack Waller Hills. Did you like him?
VIRGINIA I did then, but I realized later he was a terrible old Fascist. He used to say, “the weak are wrongdoers who foul the nets.” I know he meant me, that I was a weak wrongdoer. In the end, he was a typical man who liked to have his way. He always put his great hoof down. But at first, he seemed the only truth-teller we had ever met. I was thirsty for knowledge, and he knew things. He taught me how to sugar trees for moths, how to collect and mount butterflies, how to take pride in killing beautiful things. He told me everything about sex, about “street love”, common love, why it is that women can never walk alone. I was so shocked. I asked, What about honor? He said men never think of honor, that they had women constantly, so all their talk of purity is nonsense. Every man has his whore. Every woman except the cheap ones must be locked up tight. Yet they call women fallen! Men are the whores. It makes no sense to me.
LEONARD It does sound mad.
VIRGINIA The night Jack proposed a tramp broken into the garden. Thoby threatened him, shouting at him to go away. We were always frightened of tramps – it seemed they could get in anywhere. I was afraid one had invaded the house and was lurking and leering, waiting to pounce. But it was only Jack. When Father found out about the engagement he tried to stop the wedding but Stella had her own money so he could do nothing. He postponed the wedding until Stella agreed to buy the house next door so that she could still take care of him. During all this Nessa and I were forced to chaperone. You can’t think how awful it is to sit between a couple whispering and trying to touch. I was so angry at Stella I broke my umbrella in half.
LEONARD Child chaperones? Whatever will they think of next?
VIRGINIA I know! I often think I’m the only one who isn’t crazy! Stella and Jack convinced the aunts that Nessa and I could accompany them properly to Bognor but immediately we got there they sent us two out into the rain so they could be alone. We were soaked to the skin!
LEONARD Was there no one who could speak for you?
VIRGINIA The old aunts were the worst of the lot. They curdled our brains with their falsehoods and their pieties. The wedding was the most horrible ordeal. Nessa and I resolved to be Stoic and show no emotion, as if it were nothing touching us. If ever you show feelings you are treated like a beast at the zoo and will never escape the cage. Thus we were buried beneath obligations, under torrents of uncomfortable clothes, awkward visits and unspeakable rituals. I think we are to be congratulated, you and I, that we sidestepped that whole mess so neatly.
LEONARD Yes, the registry office is so much better. It’s over so fast. But after the wedding?
VIRGINIA The happy couple went to Italy, and we were left alone with Father. He was awful to Nessa, how I hated him! He shouted at her as he’d shouted at Stella. But Nessa stood up to him, she was a rock, she didn’t care. That’s when she summoned up her supreme indifference. It’s the bane of all who love her.
LEONARD But Vanessa had no money of her own.
VIRGINIA No. If Stella hadn’t given us allowances we would have had to beg Father for every penny. And then Stella and Jack came home early because Stella was ill.
LEONARD What was wrong with her?
VIRGINIA Violet Dickinson told me Jack must have hurt her with his violent lovemaking. That he broke her somehow. But Violet was just a spinster, so what could she possibly know? The doctors called it appendicitis but you know what cretins they turned out to be. They couldn’t operate because of the baby – she was pregnant, of course. On the night she died, I was sleeping in her new house – in her dressing room in fact –
LEONARD You were sleeping in Stella’s dressing room?
VIRGINIA Yes, I’d been so ill, you see. I always got ill when people went away. But Stella was dying so they sent George to fetch me. George the over-fed pug dog, fat as a louse, beady-eyed as a rat. He wrapped me in Stella’s fur cape and carried me back to Father’s house.
LEONARD And then?
VIRGINIA Stella died and Jack was left bereaved. Now we had two widowers wailing. The men in our family hardly waited for the bodies to be buried before turning to their next victim. I remember Jack holding my wrist on one side so tightly he left bruises, and George holding me on the other side. I was trapped, you see, I couldn’t get away. George won so Jack settled on Nessa. They actually wanted to marry! I couldn’t believe it. I told Nessa, you can’t be serious! She said, “So you’re against me too,” and gave me a look that broke my heart. But she knew they couldn’t marry because of the Deceased Wife’s Sister’s Act.
LEONARD They could have married in France.
VIRGINIA That’s what they say about everything, that “the French get away with it.” Luckily it all blew over because Nessa was granted a place at the Slade. Then I was quite alone. George pounced immediately and began ordering clothes and jewels to release me into society. I was the sacrificial offering to his violent gusts of passion and his mean little piggy brain.
LEONARD
And then?
VIRGINIA
And then Father began to die and I went mad a little. After he died, I went mad a lot.
LEONARD
Well, it isn’t any wonder, from what I’ve heard. If you are mad then so am I.
VIRGINIA You can’t think how long I’ve waited for those words!
(she reaches out a hand to him – he clutches it and kisses it)
LEONARD
Dearest! You will always be my only love!
(they gaze at each other, both trembling with pent-up emotion)
VIRGINIA But darling, if Dr. Craig consigns me to deepest darkness you will have to marry someone else. You can’t waste your life waiting for me.
LEONARD That won’t happen. Craig says our future’s what we make of it.
VIRGINIA Oh, honey mongoose! Let’s make a pact right now to rise above the nay-sayers. You have given me all the best things I have ever had in life, rescued me from the cliff edge again and again. You have been absolutely perfect to me, and I have been disgraceful to you. You work so hard and I do nothing. It’s all my fault. I was mad and angry before I met you and I am madder and angrier right now. I want you to know that I do want to cuddle you but I don’t know how to show it. In spite of my vilest imaginings I’ve always known that I love you and that you love me.
(he leans his face towards her, she awkwardly moves closer and they kiss delicately)
LEONARD Virginia, I promise not to ever push you any farther than you want to go.
VIRGINIA Oh honey! And I promise to follow all your rules; early bed, milk for breakfast; just so long as I can always read and write.
(they embrace)
LEONARD
If ever you cease writing I shall divorce you immediately.
VIRGINIA
(laughing awkwardly as if she has forgotten how)
It’s a bargain. Oh, darling, shall we really have our own press and print all our own work?
LEONARD Yes, and some of your friends if they are good enough. You decide.
VIRGINIA
And can I have a bulldog, too? I’ve always wanted a bulldog pup.
LEONARD
Certainly, my pet.
VIRGINIA
And can we live in London? A new house all our own?
LEONARD
Not London but perhaps some leafy suburb.
VIRGINIA
Leonard! Suburbs!
LEONARD
Think of the bulldog, Virginia. He must have a healthful life.
VIRGINIA
You’re right of course, Leonard. You are always right.
LEONARD
Bulldogs need a place to roam.
VIRGINIA
Fresh air and food. Lots of good red steak.
LEONARD
May I order dinner now, Virginia? Surely, it’s time.
VIRGINIA Yes, Leonard.
(She clutches his hand fiercely while with his other he rings the bell) CURTAIN – END
(Curtain. Lights up on Scene 3, CONSULTATION ROOM of DR. CRAIG. LEONARD sits, head in hands.)
DR CRAIG Glad to see you, Mr. Woolf. I am eager to hear your opinion of the progress of our patient.
LEONARD Virginia and I have been talking and I must admit she does not sound altogether mad to me.
DR CRAIG My dear fellow, insanity of the mind merely means whatever derangement disables a person from thinking the thoughts, feeling the feelings and doing the duties of the social body in, for, and by which he lives. Insanity is nothing more than a want of harmony between the individual and his social medium. That individual sadly becomes a social discord of which nothing can be made.
LEONARD She speaks frequently of her home life where her brothers took advantage of her.
DR CRAIG You are referring to her delusions. You will have noticed that patients, particularly intelligent ones, are very cunning as they seek to involve their caregivers into sharing their beliefs of persecution and misfortune. It is much better not to allow oneself to re-hash a history that must remain forever uncertain but to forcefully insist on a calming, healthful daily regimen starting now.
LEONARD Surely, you’ll agree that being resentful of bad treatment hardly constitutes insanity.
DR CRAIG My dear sir, your wife is under doctors’ care because she tried to take her own life. We are obviously not dealing with a healthy person here. No, taken by themselves, delusions do not necessarily indicate insanity but when they are found in conjunction with broad evidence of failure to conform one’s general conduct to the ordinary rules of life and society such a diagnosis must be made. Clearly such an obligation places great responsibility on the keen insights and experience of professional men rigorously educated to the highest standard and admitted by the demanding qualifications of the Royal Society of Medicine. As a man of the world you must know that is always very common for weaker beings to resent those on whom greater fortune has been showered and to feel their gains are somehow ill-gotten. This resentment stirs up a host of fantasies that must be very firmly rejected. Successful work never leads to this disorder but unsuccessful work shows a very different etiology.
LEONARD But in the case of Virginia’s upbringing –
DR CRAIG Mr. Woolf, in every case the instinctive impulses of children must sooner or later clash with the social regime, to the infant’s sorrow and momentary discomfiture. Elders must be recognized as the authority in such matters or chaos would result. Therefore, no airing of childhood wrongs can ever constitute a fruitful line of inquiry.
LEONARD It seems the situation was so severe that Dr. Savage was consulted at the time –
DR CRAIG My good fellow, it would be better for you to face the fact that delusions never require any other support than the conviction of the deluded. A man may believe, for example, that his head has been opened, his brains removed and some other substance substituted. That is a very common delusion, I can assure you.
LEONARD Virginia is an intelligent woman. I believe she must be handled intelligently. I may even say she has a touch of genius. In fact, I believe she is the only true genius I have ever met.
DR CRAIG Are you arguing that geniuses are in some way above or beyond the law, Mr. Woolf? I certainly hope you are not.
LEONARD Her family was considered the highest intellectual intelligentsia of their day. It seems obvious to me –
DR CRAIG What is obvious to me, is that the degree of education and the social status of the person whose conduct is under consideration are indeed important facts, for habits that would be decidedly eccentric in the upper classes may pass unremarked in the lower reaches of society. The sex of the patient is even more critical to diagnosis. Outbursts of emotional weeping in men, for example, are a symptom of grave import but among women occasion no remark. Any woman’s effort to escape her true femininity places her moral hardihood at peril. Imagine some up to date woman adopting a divided skirt under the belief that it is a healthier form of apparel and permits greater freedom of action. Very well. But should she indulge in so subversive a notion as to think that male attire is even more hygienic and to actually carry her belief into practice, the arm of the law will at once reach out to warn her. If the warning is not heeded, society will place her in safekeeping until she has learned to conform to the ideas of the majority. This is the situation in which your wife finds herself at the current time. Before her marriage, I am given to understand that your wife frequented a rather louche artistic bohemia. Now that she is a married woman you have acquired a unique opportunity to place her feet on a more secure footing. I understand you have rejected the possibility of committing her to an asylum but want to give her another chance in the wider world. It is accordingly crucial that you not indulge her in useless analysis of who or what was at fault in her upbringing but encourage her to commit to a fresh new life, with you, where she submits to a healthful pattern which you will lay out for her.
LEONARD What you say makes a good deal of sense, but Virginia has always had her own ideas about everything. Her reading alone, even from childhood has been voluminous. I think I can say that she’s read everything and everybody.
DR CRAIG Now I think you are laying your finger on a much likelier culprit in your wife’s hysteria than the boyish behaviors of exuberantly boisterous, youthful males. Most women’s minds are simply not capable of absorbing and processing the histories and theories of men who lived in more pernicious times. As a Cambridge graduate you do not need me to point out which books might be especially dangerous. We may even disagree on which authors have a nihilist or even Bolshevik bent. But if you are committed to keeping your wife out of the asylum you must make it your life work to supervise your wife more closely in future. I understand there is family money?
LEONARD Some money. We will both need to seek employment.
DR CRAIG I think you will find your wife far too fragile for the hurly burly of economic exchange. These patients are frequently considered brilliant in conversation. But on inspection this seeming brilliancy will be found in large measure to be due to the unconventional nature of their chatter. Patients such as your wife are often considered more entertaining when ill than when in health for through loss of control they make remarks which the healthy would fear to utter. A sane person is inhibited in both speech and action. I think you must reconcile yourself to having a saner, healthier but possibly duller wife who partakes of a less unsettling society.
LEONARD But can it ever be right to subject an intelligent person to regimes designed for the mad?
DR CRAIG My dear sir, there is really no distinction between physical disease and mental disorder. Mrs. Woolf must learn to practice equanimity and you are the best judge of how to assist her in that course. In any given individual where nothing more than exaggerated and uncontrolled normal characteristics may constitute mental disorder, we realize how narrow is the margin between those whom we call the sane and the insane. You are her husband. Have faith in your power to exercise benevolent dominance. It is a husband’s obligation.
LEONARD But Virginia is so sensitive! I am concerned –
DR CRAIG I cannot suggest too strongly, my dear sir, that you focus more on your wife’s bowels than on her brains. Constipation is not only a common symptom of the insane, it is the rule rather than the exception. Another symptom which appears early and which stands out in strong relief, is hypersensitivity. To me this is the symptom of all symptoms which may occasion unsoundness of mind.
LEONARD Virginia becomes so excited when I approach her –
DR CRAIG I will prescribe Hyoscynamine. It is a wonderful relaxant which has given excellent results in quieting the most difficult patients.
VIRGINIA Go away, Leonard. I can’t bear to hear you lie to me.
LEONARD I’m not lying when I say I want you to get well more than anything I’ve ever wanted in my life.
VIRGINIA Don’t bother making me feel guilty, I already know I’m wasting your life. If only I weren’t so stupid a Mandrill, so unworthy of her poor, virtuous outsider Mongoose who is so thin, who trembles so much and who tries so hard. You have headaches too, you suffer from recurring malaria. Why should you toil so that I can be idle? I know these doctors’ bills are crushing us. Nessa sold the silver, I sold the jewelry, Thoby sold the Thackeray letters. What’s left, Leonard? Will you scheme with them to isolate me until there’s nothing left?
LEONARD I can earn money writing. I’ve proved that. You can earn money writing, you’ve proved that. But to get back in the fight we must be hardy and strong.
VIRGINIA I should never have married you. What kind of a wife can I ever be? Save yourself, Leonard. It’s too late for me. Let the wind blow, let the poppy seed itself, let the carnation mate with the cabbage. Let the swallow build her nest in the drawing room where the thistle thrusts between the tiles. Let all civilization be like broken china tangled over with blackberries and grass.
LEONARD That you demand so much of existence, still fighting as you sit among George’s flowers, shows you’re feeling better. What we must do is keep up the strengthening. A few more days, Virginia.
VIRGINIA But how can I return to you? There’s the undisputed fact of my sexual cowardice. Perhaps it’s really nothing but my terror of real life that keeps me in this nunnery. I tried telling my parents but they didn’t want to hear. Parents have forgotten their own childhood. Or they don’t want to remember.
LEONARD What did you try to tell them? You can say anything to me.
VIRGINIA I saw the spirits of evil as soon as I could speak, but because I was a girl child I was not supposed to know. Each child hugs its vice, brooding over the swollen vein, the bruised flesh that was white and sweet but yesterday.
LEONARD I told my parents that life is unquestionably vile and humanity’s nothing but an ant heap. Parents never want to hear that.
VIRGINIA That’s what I love about you, Leonard. You at least will speak the truth. Sometimes.
LEONARD It’s a fallacy to think that children are happy. They’re not. I never suffered so much as when I was a child. Children never forget injustice. But here is the heart of it, Virginia. What we write depends upon what we think. What “spirits of evil” did you see?
VIRGINIA Going to practice Dr. Head’s talking cure on me, are you? Is that the plan? I could make up a dozen stories – I see a dozen pictures. But when I open my mouth I am locked up and shut away. What is my true story? Something lies deeply buried. Shall I grasp it or let it mortify in the depths of my mind? I want to describe the world seen without a self. But I am afraid that there is no future. There are no words.
LEONARD There are words, and there is a future we shall make. Tell me. Tell me everything.
VIRGINIA When I was young, I dug furiously to uncover myself. When I discovered that I was me and not anyone else it seemed a wonderful achievement. Once I sat beside my stepsister Stella on roots as hard as skeletons, and the next day she was a skeleton. It’s strange how the dead leap out on us at street corners or in dreams. Don’t you remember that morning at breakfast when I saw my mother? You said she wasn’t there.
LEONARD I saw nothing.
VIRGINIA Cambridge educated everything but your eyes. What is the hope of talking to you? That was the morning was when I first became aware of the enemies who change but are always present; the forces we must fight even though we suffer terribly becoming separate bodies. Don’t you recognize the enemy advancing against us, pawing at his pavement? It is death. Death is the enemy.
LEONARD Marriage is the opposing force against death. A marriage of true minds can fight all enemies. Once upon a time we shared our thoughts, and fell in love. I needed someone who could hold her own, and there you were. You are the only wife I ever wanted, the only woman I have ever loved. Please, Virginia, I want you to come back to me.
VIRGINIA
(dazzled)
Oh to be a wife, to be wanted, would be so complete! Is it possible, Leonard, after the terrors, the disgusting dangers we have seen?
LEONARD If it isn’t I don’t want to live either.
(She holds out a hand to him. They clutch hands briefly)
VIRGINIA Sit down, Leonard. You look silly on your knees.
(She looks away. LEONARD sits)
VIRGINIA I used to make the family laugh. They thought me clever. But when I chased the evil spirits through a hole in the escallonia hedge, I resolved to tell the exact truth and write down the phenomena I’d seen. But no one believed me, and at that moment the laughter turned against me. I said, must not we find some way to get outside ourselves, to give our brains a wider scope? My parents declared God was dead and the world empty and meaningless. Father said to be weak is to be wretched. He said that Society is a ravenous appetite, and Nature is a state of war. You’ve laughed at me behind my back, I know you have. You, my own husband, want to get rid of me, to lock me up forever and steal my money.
LEONARD I love you, Virginia. Maybe it’s a bad thing to love you as much as I do – it cuts me off from the outside world. But the outside world is worthless and your world is so rich. When I went away to school for the first time I was shocked and appalled by the horrifying corruption of dirty-minded schoolboys. It marked me. Then I realized all of humanity are mean, nasty, untruthful, cowardly, and cruel. Perhaps I’ve been searching for a world that doesn’t exist.
VIRGINIA Perhaps we both have.
LEONARD If you will care for your health – if you will allow me to care for your health – you’ll recover. As you’ve recovered before.
VIRGINIA Nessa won’t rest till I’m brought low. When she was ill with typhoid Savage wanted to put her in a home but I backed her up! I told Savage I would care for her. Now look at what she’s done to me. You betrayed our secret, telling Nessa I’m a frigid failure as a wife. She told Clive and now everyone knows. They’re all laughing, jeering. plotting behind my back. You were sent to Ceylon to break the natives and now you’ve been sent to break me. I have been derided, insulted, sacrificed and betrayed, by all of you.
LEONARD Virginia, I am on your side. My eyes were opened in Ceylon. I was an anti-imperialist wallowing in the fleshpots of imperialism. But I changed. Now I support the independence movement with all my heart. All problems can be solved by science and logic, Virginia. It was I who was a failure as a husband. It was my marital duty to arouse you but you seemed so afraid of me. At my wit’s end, I asked your older sister for help.
VIRGINIA Does she offer lessons in humiliation? She knows how better than anyone. Is it my fault that I hate my legs being pried apart? I should never have married you, but I couldn’t bear to remain a spinster. I was struggling at everything, and you seemed so different. You said you liked women. You said you admired women’s minds.
LEONARD It’s true. Women feel more deeply, think more deeply, talk more deeply.
VIRGINIA Yet men demand obedience. You want me to obey you but I never will. You know nothing about me. Did you know that before I tried to die I read a book? Would you like to know which one?
LEONARD Which book did you read?
VIRGINIA It was your book. Your book that I read.
LEONARD My book?
VIRGINIA Your book about me.
LEONARD (a gratified author, in spite of everything)
You read The Wise Virgins? What did you think?
VIRGINIA So you admit it’s about me!
LEONARD Virginia, please. I’d love to discuss my book with you.
(She hesitates, turning away her face, then facing him with rage)
VIRGINIA
You locked me away so I’d never find out!
LEONARD You were ordered rest cures long before you met me! I don’t believe in guilt or blame. Honestly, I wanted you to read my book as soon as you were well.
VIRGINIA I won’t be stamped and stereotyped. You have publicly lampooned me as a frozen, dowdy, fussy, futile woman.
LEONARD Not true at all. I called you my Aspasia.
VIRGINIA “Cold and snowy, like the rocks.” You said.
LEONARD I’m a bad writer. I agree. I’ve got nothing of your genius. I can never explain what I really want to say. If it’s any comfort to you no one else likes or understands it either. Sales are awful. All I was attempting to do was contrast the world of a poor Jew from Putney with the rarified aristocratic Olympus for which he yearns.
VIRGINIA You hold my world in contempt because you can never be a gentleman.
LEONARD Virginia, you hold “your world” in contempt.
VIRGINIA And then the hero marries the other girl. The stupid, cow-eyed one! It’s a betrayal.
LEONARD It’s just a bad novel, I’ll give you that. Don’t laugh at me. Not everyone is born with your gifts. Consider my perspective. Any rational mind must inevitably face disillusion and depression. I tried to show how poor Harry just couldn’t escape his past. He couldn’t but I think we can. I probably shouldn’t have published it but Arnold was willing and I couldn’t bear to waste all that work and all that suffering.
VIRGINIA What can you, a prizewinning Apostle from Cambridge, an imperialist potentate of a subject country, possibly know of real suffering?
LEONARD Virginia, I’m a Jew from Putney. All my life I’ve been spat upon. Job is the only book of the Bible I ever understood. Who ridiculed who first? I trained myself to avoid personal feeling. Admit you despised me. Your set. You made me into a joke.
VIRGINIA My set despises everyone. That’s what we do. It’s self-defense, from growing up amongst the most monumental hypocrites.
LEONARD You despised me personally. Be honest. You hated kissing me. You could barely bring yourself to marry me.
VIRGINIA But I did it, didn’t I!
LEONARD You wanted to shock them. You were competing with Nessa to see who could be most scandalous.
VIRGINIA I wouldn’t dare compete with Nessa. Competition is a male thing. It’s a brutal, endless game. I think all competition should be abolished.
LEONARD But it’s all you ever do! Your flirtation with her husband –
VIRGINIA (cringes visibly)
Oh God, not that. Somehow that memory turns a knife in me more than anything. How it catches at me, the fangs of that old pain. I know I lost Vanessa forever. She will never forgive me. I simply couldn’t comprehend why she married such a strange, intolerable creature with his twitching pink skin and a jerky laugh. Before Clive, Nessa and I drifted together on a sea of seducing half-brothers, hiding together beneath the dining room table. We spoke a special animal language.
LEONARD But you were no longer children. Vanessa waited till twenty-eight to marry.
VIRGINIA Who would willingly grow up? I never wanted to. As soon as you’re pushed out of the nursery, the happy moments vanish. Vanessa was the bowl of golden water that brims but never overflows. I lie prostrate at her shrine and still she won’t forgive me. When she brought home friends from the Slade they laughed at me behind the door. You can’t think what it feels like, having one’s self so thoroughly extinguished.
LEONARD I do know it. That was my exact experience at both St. Paul’s and Cambridge. St. Paul’s was a disgusting brothel, but at Trinity I met G. E. Moore. He taught me how to ask the important questions.
VIRGINIA
And what are the important questions?
LEONARD The most important question is why. Why can’t Vanessa forgive a mere flirtation? She must know by now that Clive sets out to bed every woman he meets. You at least resisted him.
VIRGINIA But I did wrong. Clive and I made common cause against my sister, his own wife. Some things should be sacred.
LEONARD
Wasn’t it true that he respected your intellectual work more than he could ever appreciate Vanessa’s daubs?
VIRGINIA Leonard! How can you!
LEONARD
If it’s the truth, shouldn’t we say so?
VIRGINIA
I tried speaking the truth, yet here I am locked up among the imbeciles. And weren’t we just arguing whether all imbeciles should be killed?
LEONARD You’re hardly “locked up with the imbeciles” at Dalingridge Hall!
VIRGINIA You’re wrong. In this castle beats the very heart of idiocy and evil. Aren’t you the one who said the most dangerous imbeciles are running the nation? Here I am at home among the hunters, where the miner sweats and dies and maiden faith is rudely strumpeted.
LEONARD But you used to love George! He told me you’d make an adorable wife.
VIRGINIA Perhaps I’ve been given too much time to think. Get a sense of proportion, the doctors keep telling me. So now I stare for the first time into the very mouth of doom. Look your last on all things lovely.
LEONARD Virginia, if you don’t want to be called crazy, you really must explain yourself. Whatever do you mean?
VIRGINIA George behaved little better than a brute. He never let me alone for a moment. That he was the pet of duchesses hardly excuses him. And yet it was Gerald who broke my hymen, when I was six years old. It’s a painful process. and now I freeze like ice. Give up on me, Leonard, there’s no awakening the dead. I’m ruined by incest, I’ve even desired my own sister. I’m locked up because I stew in murder, just as Laura did. I long to slice Gerald’s fat, transparent flesh, to take a rifle and shoot George directly in his smug, piggy face. Or could I bag him with a net and killing bottle? And why shouldn’t I turn on my tormentors? I suffered, I was helpless, why should I be the one forced to writhe with shame? I longed to be petted but instead was trapped in a cage with lions as sulky and angry as they were ferocious. I’m just a little monkey and little monkeys are too easily squashed and trampled. It’s too late for me, Leonard. My body is spoiled forever by George and Gerald.
LEONARD (shocked)
George? Gerald? These are pillars of society, your own half-brothers! It’s so unbelievable.
VIRGINIA George drowned us in kisses, me and Vanessa. Each kiss was an amputation. I used to sign my work, “One of the Drowned.” Oh, those horrible parties! The oppressive gatherings of Stephenses ground one to a pulp. Because I wanted to discuss Plato I was told I had no conversation. George was so angry! After I removed my ball gown and stripped off my gloves and stockings, he would come into my room and lock the door.
LEONARD But how can any of this be true? How could nobody have noticed it?
VIRGINIA Everyone did notice it. People contrive to bend it to the conventional heroic shape because he kept insisting on the purity of his love. I saw him kissing Countess Carnarvon behind a pillar at the opera! And now she’s his mother-in-law. I asked to join the British Sex Society, dedicated to the study of parent/child incest, but they wouldn’t let me in. Now that you know, you’ll have to spit in George’s face at the club.
LEONARD We don’t belong to the same clubs.
VIRGINIA Then when you thank him for this execrable house, challenge him to a duel. Will he at least feel some regret? Will he take the pigeon gun and blast himself instead? Then the aristocracy will hate me because it’s all my fault. Yet is it not a noble work, letting light in upon the evil Duckworths? Probably he’ll feel nothing. Possibly some vague imbalance.
LEONARD Let’s try to be objective, Virginia.
VIRGINIA If only I could! What a luxury that would be! How I hunger for the objectivity of beloved Macaulay or the stern analysis of cherished Carlyle. Lockhart’s ten volume Life of Scott was the best present I ever received. Reading relieves all my pain, but they won’t let me read anything here. In spite of them I’m continuing to learn. Only life itself matters, nothing but life – and the process of discovery, the everlasting perpetual process, and not the thing itself at all.
LEONARD
Virginia, I am speechless.
VIRGINIA
Now you know how it feels. I used to think it would be enough to have someone share my loneliness. But if no one believes me, the solitude is total. The Duckworths are guilty of nameless atrocities, and you’re complicit. You locked me away here, so I couldn’t speak. As soon as I open my mouth they try to destroy me. It’s a conspiracy of hush.
LEONARD If this is something you’ve only just remembered how can it possibly be true? It sounds mad.
VIRGINIA I don’t think memory is always at the forefront, Leonard. There’s only so much a human being can bear. Memory comes and goes. One requires tools to think with, to make sense of one’s experience, and these tools are alternately dull and sharp.
LEONARD Well, there are some things no one wants to think about.
VIRGINIA It’s clearer in my mind than the bad, stodgy meal I was force-fed yesterday. Our summer place at St. Ives, in the dining room; I must have been six years old. Eighteen-year-old Gerald lifted me up to a high ledge and explored my private parts. I fought and I struggled but I couldn’t get away. I could see his face in the dining room mirror. It was the face of a demon. I’ve seen that face since, on the drooling men who expose themselves in the park. Now I no longer look in mirrors. I can’t cross a puddle. The depth looks back at me, concealing malicious, hairy arms to reach out and grab. I can’t go forward, I am stuck in the loop of the six, no power even to lift my legs.
LEONARD The loop of the six? I don’t understand.
VIRGINIA
I was learning numbers. Six was my number. But I couldn’t close the loop.
LEONARD
This was Gerald you say? But Gerald is your publisher!
VIRGINIA I know! If I am not a madwoman, then the world itself is mad. What was I to do? I wrote a book and my incestuous brother was a publisher! Who else would even look at my work? When I delivered my manuscript to Gerald I was in such acute despair – so near the precipice!
LEONARD Did you tell anyone?
VIRGINIA I told Nessa and she told Dr. Savage. Who is an idiot, as you well know.
LEONARD I can’t believe it. Gerald seems so – so – well, ordinary. So completely controlled.
VIRGINIA Get out of here! I’m sorry I told you. I wish I was dead!
(She is tearing at her own throat – he rushes forward to hold her hands down, lifting her body out of the chair)
The use of force is all you know!
LEONARD Virginia, I love you.
(He kisses her neck, she becomes a dead weight. He lowers her carefully into the chair, arranges a blanket on her knees)
VIRGINIA When you touch me, I feel nothing. My body goes dead. That’s how I froze when George came into my room, night after night.
LEONARD Oh, Beloved!
VIRGINIA Don’t. He called me that. I don’t want to be loved, I want to be believed.
(Scene 2. The Conservatory at Dalingridge Hall. VIRGINIA sits slackly in an old-fashioned wheeled chair, gazing into nothingness.)
LEONARD How are you today, Virginia? Sleep well?
VIRGINIA
(galvanizing)
How can there be sleep for those of us who see the flesh melted off the world? Have you come to gloat over the shattered splintered fragments of my body? You care nothing for what they do to me! You macerate my soul. With sleep comes horrible dreams. I was trapped in a drainpipe with the savage hairy man who squats, gobbling and belching, dabbling at my entrails. Soon I will be shrouded in snail slime sticky from the hollow stalk. Get away from me! I don’t want to see you!
LEONARD
(humbly)
I’ve brought chocolate creams. You used to love those.
VIRGINIA You are a shadow. You torment me with shadows of the people I might have been, all my unborn selves. Go away, Leonard. Your cause is hopeless.
LEONARD No cause is hopeless as long as we can talk.
VIRGINIA I have nothing to say to you. Your kind disgusts me.
LEONARD You can’t realize how utterly you would end my life too if you died or ever dismissed me. Aren’t I still your precious Mongoose? Aren’t you my beloved Mandrill?
VIRGINIA Any real relationship between men and women is unattainable. It’s all nonsense and lies.
LEONARD Weren’t we going to create our own special relationship? A real marriage, unlike everyone else’s, a vital, living thing. That’s what we promised.
VIRGINIA And then you brought me to George’s house, you traitor.
LEONARD Officialdom requires certification following suicide attempts! You’d be a ward in chancery! This is the only way!
(He seems about to sit down, she stops him)
VIRGINIA If you sit I’ll start screaming and I won’t stop.
LEONARD I’m so afraid of the future, Virginia, if you can’t get strong.
VIRGINIA You want me to tolerate filthy fingers stuck down my throat! That’s what it comes down to, isn’t it?
LEONARD Is eating chocolate creams so terrible?
(He offers the box)
VIRGINIA Don’t come near me.
(He sets the box on the little table, kneels)
LEONARD I would grovel to you and kiss your toes if you would only listen to me, Virginia. Aren’t you better now? Aren’t you getting stronger? Look, you’re free and out of your straps. You’re sleeping some and eating a little. Have the hallucinations gone away?
VIRGINIA I’m terrified of sleep. I’m terrified of chloral and the nightmares it provides. When I wake at night and understand all the terror, violence and unreason still presiding over the universe it is worse than death. I am nothing. I am nobody. I am I-less.
LEONARD Didn’t you always say that only writing that brings order to madness? You called art humanity’s one defense.
VIRGINIA Art is a conspiracy among the civilized. Yet how can we call people civilized who insist on enslaving half their populace? Behold myself, empty-handed and force-fed, by your order. I know I have a good mind, but you have surrendered me to the very people bent on destroying it.
LEONARD Civilization is largely humbug, Virginia. That may be the only thing I’ve learned. I always felt I’m playing a part upon a stage. You’re the only honest person I’ve ever met and now you’re at risk. I just want you to get well, Virginia, so we can plan our hundred books.
VIRGINIA You care nothing for my plans! Shall I ever write again one of those sentences that gives me the most intense pleasure? For years now, people jerked wires to make me jump like a jack in the box when all I want is peace. I long to be ten miles beneath the sea. Here I am stuck in polar ice, harassed by barbarians.
LEONARD Your ice drifts toward home.
VIRGINIA
I have no home.
LEONARD
You will get well and our life will become possible again. As soon as you gain weight and master some calm and some cheer, we are free!
VIRGINIA Calm and cheer in a world like this one! Don’t treat me like some retarded infant. When we walked together at Asheham you inveighed against the world as a stupid, corrupt brothel.
LEONARD And I still believe that. I wanted to go into politics but politics is brutal and discouraging. Now I think I must change the world through workers’ cooperatives. We must stand up against all the evils that we see.
VIRGINIA You said writers are born to be unhappy.
LEONARD I fear to some extent that must be true. It’s harder on you, because you’re a sensitive, poetic writer. But if we swear to support each other –
VIRGINIA My punishment is unending. Mother didn’t approve of school for girls. Boys should go everywhere and know everything, and girls should stay home and know nothing. All my brothers were sent to school, where I must say they did horribly. George and Gerald were incurably stupid and Thoby jumped out a window rather than write his prep. But I learned Greek! I learned Latin! I read every book in Father’s library, all on my own! And here I am, sentenced to Bedlam for it.
LEONARD When you have seen the squalor that I have, you will realize that Dalingridge Hall is no punishment, Virginia.
VIRGINIA It’s a punishment for me. Think of its owners, in their smug pride, rulers of the universe. How can you of all people, abide them? But they seduce even you with their privilege, luxury and glamor. What is the use of the finest education in the world if it teaches people not to hate force but to use it? Why can’t we learn the arts of understanding people’s lives and minds? All that the professions preach is worship of the sacred tree of property.
LEONARD The doctors say you pushed yourself too hard.
VIRGINIA Is that what you really think, that diving deep is dangerous? Go away, Leonard. I can’t bear to hear you lie to me.
(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.
Alysse Aallyn 