Alysse Aallyn

Category: #Mysteries

  • Rough Sleep – a play by Alysse Aallyn

    In the Dream Lab

    CHASE

    I flew! I did!

    (Waving his whole arm like a five year old)

    Me, me, me!

    CORSO

    (Repressively)

    I think Mr. Pettigrew is trying to speak.

    ZANE 

    (Acts out his dream)

     I was walking down a concrete tunnel with metal ribs. It seemed to be shifting like it was alive. It was hard to keep my feet. I felt like maybe it was on a giant truck where they shift the room around to make you fall – like at Great Adventure. There was water on the floor that looked diseased so I tried to keep out of it but it kept splashing on me.  I know I’m going to get sick just like my dad warned me. When I got to the end of the tunnel I was in an abandoned dump at the end of the world – signs everywhere saying things like, TOXIC WASTE and EXTREMELY HAZAROUS. The filled with gushing water and I couldn’t get back.

    RAD

    Abandon hope those who enter here.

    (CORSO gives him a squelching look)

    ZANE

    Something horrible was stalking the dump.  Every now and then it darted past.  I think I saw fur? I’m scared of fur. It was BIG. I could hear breathing. Maybe a bear – but when it stepped near the light I saw it had scales that glittered. It was coming right after me, kind of loping, with its back legs higher than its front.  In that second I realized I had created it – like it was the most terrible thing I could think of come to life.  I just took off running.  I knew I couldn’t outrun it – it had too many legs. I saw a chain-link fence, but I couldn’t get over that, so I went inside this shack to hide and maybe make a barricade. Most of all I was scared of anybody seeing what a coward I was – just another big talker who’s unable to cope. It was dark in there – and the floor was all torn up – I wanted to go back but – the thing was forcing me inside. It was peering in the windows so I ducked down, I stepped on a rotten board and pitched into the water. Toxic, disgusting water – smelled like sulfur – I could feel it poisoning me, rotting me, boiling me from the inside out. My skin was falling right off my bones.  Then somebody said, “Wake up” and I woke up.

    (CORSO looks bored and politely incredulous)

    CORSO

    Charming.  Our research project becomes a video game.

    ZANE

    (Rubbing the inside of his leg)

    I was never so glad to wake up. Man, I was really running. It felt like running in flip-flops.  My adductors are killing me and my paraformus feels like a rubber band.

    CORSO

    (Dismissive)

    Anything to be learned from this puerile meandering?  Could it be that the concept of “flight” itself creates a concept of falling and the context of humiliation and pursuit? I certainly wish you were all more imaginative. I see I need YEARS of work with you children to exorcise these primitive fears. Nobody has time for that. Oh, well.  Too late now. It is only in the course of the research that we discover how it should have been conducted.

    CHASE

    Flight creates pursuit?  That’s a good one!

    ZANE

    But I had the strangest feeling like…like I was watching myself. Like I was both inside and outside me. Like maybe I was the animal too.

    SOLIZ

    And I was the crowd. I felt that too.

    KOO

    Me, too.  I definitely did.

    CORSO

    (Silky-voiced)

    Ah, lucid dreaming. At long last, something informative. Do share.

    CHASE

    You said I could go next.

    CORSO

    Research makes no promises, Mr. Quinn.  Miss Loflin?

    KOO

    It was…so terrible.  I need to get rid of it so I can forget.    

    `        I was working in some kind of, mortuary.  These body bags were coming at me down a conveyor belt and I had to unzip them and take out the body pieces.  I was unzipping, unbuttoning, zipping and unzipping, but the bodies were so smashed I couldn’t even look at them. So disgusting — you couldn’t tell they ever had been people.  I thought there was people and garbage and animal parts all smashed together to trick me.  To make fun of me.  Someone was laughing at my expense. And some of those bags contained the remains of multiple people – a mess nobody could reassemble – a mass of legs and arms and guts. I thought this was a horrible job and I remember thinking, “Nothing is worth this. I should leave college plead bankruptcy and go work at my dad’s dealership.” I wanted to throw up the whole time.

    (Gagging)

     But I also felt guilty for not helping them. The heads were alive and they looked at me so pleadingly. Then in one bag I found my boyfriend Bo. He was looked accusing – I couldn’t convince him he was DEAD and I was helpless. and I just KNEW he was going to tell everyone I was responsible. Just it was all my fault! I just zipped him back up. Zipped him right back up. 

    (Gulping water, half crying)

    Then the next one was ME. I unzipped myself. I looking at my own body. I was dead and I was mangled, and I just hadn’t realized it.

    (KOO’s gasping and sobbing) 

    I just – lost it. Take me – take me –

    TAKE ME OUT OF HERE.

    (SOLIZ tries to comfort sobbing KOO.)

    SOLIZ

    So maybe Bo IS your soulmate and in your next dream you take him out of the bag –

    KOO

    I’m not going back there!  No, no, no, no, no!

    CORSO

    Please, Miss D’Accosta, no sophomoric interpretations. Good guinea pigs stay out of each other’s heads.

    JAZZ

    Wouldn’t soulmates be in each other’s heads?

    CHASE

    Me, me, me! Is it my turn now?

    CORSO

    By all means, Mr. Quinn, since you’re so eager to share.

    CHASE

    (Very smug and bad-ass)

    I flew all right. Right through the air. No pursuit, no humiliation, no falling – don’t I get an A?  It was like being in a wind tunnel. I went to your apartment; Doc. Didn’t bother with the locks – sailed right in through the front door.

    CORSO

    If this was a true out-of-body or remote viewing experience you’ll have to tell us something you could only have seen today, something that wasn’t there when you helped me move in.

    CHASE

    (Making a show of deep thought)

    Well, there were a lot of papers about a bankruptcy filing and restraining orders.  Is that the sort of thing you mean? Shouldn’t we run right over and look? Oh, and there was a sex tape featuring you and Nurse Howk on your bed.  Your bed had black sheets. She’s one smoky tomato, that girl. She has a piercing on her hoo-ha.  Shouldn’t we call her in and investigate?

    CORSO

    Mr. Quinn, you are fired again!  I knew you were a mistake! Off to the locker rooms with you. This minute. And don’t come back!

    CHASE

    (rises slowly, protesting) 

    Awwww... And I thought we were gonna be like so free.

    CORSO

    Every chance you are given, you destroy. I’m sure one of the alternates will be thrilled to assume your position.

    CHASE

    (Chucks him under the chin)

    You can always find somebody to “assume the position” but you’ll never find anyone like me.

    CORSO

    (Swats his hand away)

    Let’s hope not.  Get out, now.

    CHASE

    Can’t I listen to the others? I swilled your damn koolaid.

    CORSO

    No. You are incorrigible and disruptive.  You are leaving or I call security and this class is OVER.

    CHASE

    But I want to hear the others!

    CORSO

    (Upends recliner, dumping CHASE on the floor. Speaks into his earbud)

    You should have thought of that sooner.  Security!

    CHASE

    Oh all right. Jazz, I’ll be waiting for you to tell me what I missed.

    (He exits slowly, hangs out behind the door.)

    CORSO

    I do apologize for that. That is one troubled youth. He is a thief, an impostor and a poseur. No good deed goes unpunished there, I assure you. His alternate will be more cooperative. Miss Suzino? Mr. Bliven? Chop-chop! No more stalling.

    RAD

    (Looking panicked.)  

    It’s Borden. And – I don’t remember anything.

    (CORSO inspects him closely to see if he is lying)

    CORSO

    Hmmm. Come, come, Mr. whatever.  The others have been brave. Your clothing is strangely disarranged.

    SOLIZ

    Aren’t your pants on backwards?

    RAD

    (Gulps, blushes painfully)

    I know you’ll fire me and I don’t really want to leave but I just don’t remember. It’s just a blank.

    CORSO

    Fire you for amnesia? Hardly! I am much more likely to administer truth serum or attempt a little private hypnosis. Overcoming resistance is my raison d’être.

    (Looks at his watch.)

    We just don’t have the time.  How about if I give you one more chance, next week?

    RAD

    Th – thanks.

    (Is he relieved? Traumatized?  Hard to tell. CORSO stretches out on CHASE’s abandoned futon, very relaxed, crosses his hands behind his head.)

    CORSO

    You are hardly a “still water”, Mr. Bli – er, Borden. Perhaps that is why I am more relieved than otherwise to find you run so deep. Miss Suzino?  We are waiting. 

    (JAZZ’s face show she is desperately trying to think up a story.  Coming up empty)

    JAZZ

    I was blind. At first I couldn’t see.

    CORSO

    (Sighs luxuriously)

    Oh, Miss Suzino.  Blindfold games! Who among us hasn’t played them?  You always interest me so extremely! Pay attention, Mr. Bruden!  This is how it’s done!                        

    RAD

    Borden.

    CORSO

    Simmer down, class. Let Miss Suzino speak.  Poor little Jazz.  When she enrolled in this experiment she’s all, “I can’t dream” 

    (mimics her voice unflatteringly) 

    Now it’s “I can’t see!”  Whatever next? We’ll just have to do what we can to open your eyes.

    JAZZ

    I felt people rushing past me. I stumbled down steps into a basement. It smelled like dirt and death.   Someone kicked me – I fell over a body. A dead body.

    CORSO

    More falling. This is a tragic class.

    ZANE

    Anything chasing you?

    CORSO

    Please, class, I’ll ask the questions.

    JAZZ

    There was blood.

    SOLIZ

    But the blood was yours. Sorry. Just saying. 

    CORSO

    (Slams his notebook shut – rises) 

    Checks in your mailboxes the first of the week!  See you all next Saturday! Remember – no talking about what goes on in dream lab!

    RAD

    (Glad to escape)

    What happens in dream lab stays in dream lab!

  • Rough Sleep – a play by Alysse Aallyn

    (Perceptual Studies Student Lab at College . Enter CORSO in Burberry, cap and scarf)

    CORSO

    Sorry I’m late.  I’ll make it up.  Time’s our bitch, but that’s what we’re here for – get on top of it.  I see you’ve met my teaching assistant, Mr. Quinn. 

    (Indicates CHASE) 

    CHASE

    I thought you fired me.

    CORSO

    But you’re so charming as my warm-up act.  Who could resist you? Consider yourself re-hired.

    ZANE

    (Pointing at CHASE)

    Ringer! Ringer!

    CORSO

    (Opens a door)

    Welcome to Paradise. After you.

    (Lights up on  DREAM RESEARCH LAB ;  six recliners arranged in a circle – lockers to either side– students study their environment. Glittering disco ball lowers from ceiling shedding fractals. Padded floor; students step gingerly.  At center of recliners a black chalice on a tripod emits dry ice smoke)

    CORSO

    (Slams door aggressively)

    Now you’re committed.

    RAD

    My folks always said I’d end up committed.

                               ZANE

    And in a padded cell.

    CORSO

    God forbid you should fall down in your dream-throes and sue the institute that birthed your intellect.

    CHASE

    Where are the sensors?

    CORSO

    Everything’s wireless these days, poor Mr. Quinn! What are you worried about? Nobody would dare to censor you. 

    KOO

    (Gestures at the disco ball)

    Is that a camera?

    CORSO

    The Eye of History.

    (Claps hands)

    Chop, chop, little ones – Enough rubbernecking.  Time’s a-wasting.  Male locker room there, females that-away. Discard outerwear and belongings. Let’s get going.

    (As CHASE passes him, CORSO says dryly)

    The old razzle dazzle?  REALLY?

    (Banging of locker doors)

    CHASE

    We’ll see.

    CORSO

    We certainly will. Now, if you children would arrange yourselves male, female – thusly.

    RAD

    Like some antique dinner party?

    CORSO

    Sacred geometry.  We need all the energy we can harness. We are immersing ourselves in the flip side of reality- the Unseen. 

    (JAZZ and CHASE are side by side. CORSO distributes mugs)

    CORSO

    Tea time!

    CHASE

    What is this stuff?

    CORSO

    Sorry, Mr. Quinn, research is not a democracy. All that’s guaranteed is, you sleep on cue without allergic overdrive.

    ZANE

    I’m not allergic to Nurse Howk, either. Yowza!

    RAD

    (Shaking his hand as if from a burn)

    I know, right?

    CORSO

    Drink up and settle down.  I am collecting mugs so I will know who’s been naughty and who’s been nice.

    JAZZ

    Yuck! This stuff tastes like bark.

    (RAD barks like a dog)

    CORSO

    Shotgun it, Miss Suzino. Knock it back. Isn’t that the college way?

    .        (CORSO collects mugs, turning them upside down to be sure they’re empty)

    Musical selection?  Classical or non-classical?

    ZANE

    Anything so long as it’s not classical.

    CHASE

    Anything – so long as it’s classical.

    (They glare at each other. CORSO laughs)

    CORSO

    The bulls do clash! Ocean sounds it is!

    (He conducts the music) 

    Everyone hold hands and close eyes please. Let the bonding begin!

    CHASE

    (Muttering)

    Bondage, more like.

    CORSO

    Mr. Quinn!  Must I gag you? That can be arranged!

    (CHASE finally closes his eyes, rocking back and forth to get comfortable. Lights go down to twilight level on DREAM LAB.  CORSO ascends on TOWER LIFT, wearing earphones and holding a conductor’s baton)

    CORSO

    Welcome to cosmic dreaming. You will dream at such a depth your mind will burst the bonds of selfhood and explode free and untrammeled into the universe. Free from the chains of time, from identity itself, we uncover the truth the quotidian obscures;  we are one. Think on it. Think what it would means to be freed from debt, obligation, relationship, guilt, regret or loss. There are no mistakes.  Without identity you are released from suffering.  Everything you have ever wanted we can achieve together, effortlessly, and in abundance. Desires and longing are the fuel that rocket us to the stratosphere of rarest air. Once we merge in the great Oneness, we will dream uniquely and together.  

    (CORSO turns a page on his music stand)

    Learning to harness our dream, we will control it, uniting our powers generously to become a potent force of reckoning. Prepare yourselves for the ultimate luxury – surrender – lost in the imaginative union that has always been your birthright.  Time to claim and master your entitlement. In our relaxation mass consciousness will seize control…But you must be quick! The garden door is closing and you’ll be left behind… See, the stars are out. The world inside and the world without await your signal – longing to merge.  Only the clatter in your head prevents the natural fruition of your indissoluble longing. 

    Doesn’t it feel good leaving the world behind? The universe itself is lost beneath you now.  Now flesh itself melts away as invisible imperfections open themselves to perfection. Accept the freedom you are offered. When you open your eyes, you will be gazing down at the husk of your unwelcome, banished self.  

    (CORSO’S spot is extinguished, spot rises on JAZZ who stands up eyes closed, feeling out in front of her like sleepwalker.  She feels her way to the edge of the stage. No other students stir.  CORSO’s voice orates as if from space.)

    CORSO

    Now the room itself vanishes, your earthly fears becoming someone else’s problem. Release those worries.  Look how tiny they seem, as they disappear over the horizon. 

    (JAZZ shakes head impatiently and crabwalks down the steps toward audience. 

    JAZZ

    Where is this place? It smells like death. The end of everything.

  • Rough Sleep – a play by Alysse Aallyn

    CHARACTERS

    Jazz Suzino – female college student – edgy, artistic

    Chase Quinn – male college student – angry wrestler

    Koo Loflin – female college student – petite cheerleader

    Soliz D’Accosta – female college student – chip on her shoulder- ethnic – smart transfer student

    Grady “G-Rad” Borden –male, black “in the closet” college student

    Zane Pettigrew – male college student – jock biz major

    Dr. Richard Corso – “Lord of Perceptual Studies” – charismatic older man with plummy, stagey voice

    Zoya Farrell – older female – tiny, hopeful but easily discouraged – Chase’s mom

    Cutter Farrell – older male – Chase’s mean, scary cold-eyed dad

    Bex – male youth – Jazz’s scary biker ex

    SCENE I – WAITING ROOM (i.e. circle of chairs) outside DREAM RESEARCH LAB.  Visible DOOR to one side. Students – edgy, impressionable JAZZ , angry suspicious,  punked out wrestler CHASE, King-of-the-World jock business major ZANE,  RAD (Black, light-sprung guy with ornate dreads and gay overtones) SOLIZ (pretty, smoky, hot, ethnic, resentful) KOO (tiny blond cheerleader, very anxious  alternately sprawl and rock on uncomfortable “waiting room” chairs)

    JAZZ

    (Fanning)

    God, it’s hot in here. I’m melting.

    CHASE

    (Offering a hand)

    And I’m Chase.

    JAZZ

    (Blushing – takes his hand)

    I mean, I’m Jazz.  Hi.

    SOLIZ

    (A tad hostile)

    Who’s named Jazz?

    JAZZ

    (shrugs)

    Short for Jasmyn. Mothers – Disney – what can you do?

    RAD

    You got that right. My parents call me Grady. Grady Borden! Get a brother killed on the street.  I go by Rad. Or G-Rad.

    (He and Zane trade complicated fist bumps & bicep grabs)

    SOLIZ

    Shouldn’t it be “Raid”?

    CHASE

    Let people have the nickname they want.  And you are?

    SOLIZ

    Soliz.  I should be a third year but I transferred so I’m only a sophomore. That’s all the credits they would give me – and I graduated junior college. 

    RAD

    Hey, I’m a transfer too!  They turned me down straight outta high school.  I mean, is this place a snob factory or what?

    CHASE

    I just assumed we’d all be psych majors but I don’t recognize anyone. 

    (Points)

    ZANE

    Zane. Business major. 

    (He waves)

    KOO

    I’m Koo.  Like koo–kool. I was a communications major but they gave me such a bad internship I really couldn’t hack it. Now I’m uncommitted. I don’t know what to do. Everything available you hear bad things about.

    RAD

    (Points to KOO)

    I know I’ve seen you.  Top of the pyramid, right?

    KOO

    (Shrugs –  happy at the perks of fame)

    I’m the flier. My feet never touch ground.

    RAD

    You’re the one goes with that quarterback? Am I correct?

    KOO

    Bo Boyd. Yes.

    RAD

    Woo-hoo! Humptious!

    (Fanning)

    Hells YES it’s hot in here!

    (Takes off his bomber jacket stunned by KOO’s hotness)

    CHASE

    It would be just like Dr. Corso turning up the heat to make us squirm.

    (Waves up at presumably unseen camera)

    Hi, doc!

    ZANE

    That’s a sprinkler, dog.

    CHASE

    You better believe there’s a camera in here someplace. He needs to collect his little trophies. Bargaining chips. His little icons.

    RAD

    So he turns up the heat till we boil?  Like frogs in the experiment?

    KOO

    What frogs?

    RAD

    The frogs that were too stupid to get out of the hot water. ‘Cause it happened so slowly.

    SOLIZ

    Those frogs were in search of a paycheck.

    ZANE

    They never boiled any frogs!  That’s for sure an urban legend!

    CHASE

    Listen to the marketing major! Always first with the non-facts.

    ZANE

    Well at least we know we’re not going to get boiled.

    CHASE

    Did you read what you signed? He can do any goddam thing he wants to us.

    KOO

    Well he can boil me if he pays me.  You should see my VISA bill.

    RAD

    (Sycophantically trying – and failing – to be ZANE’s best buddy)

    Like there’s a difference between psychology and marketing. Am I right? Everyone’s trying to sell you something.

    JAZZ

    Am I the only freshman?

    CHASE

    You’re a freshman?

    JAZZ

    I’m an old freshman. Took me awhile to get here.

    KOO

    If you’re a freshman you must live in Hadleigh!

    JAZZ

    Is that bad?

    KOO

    It’s pathetic is what it is!  Hadleigh has sick building syndrome. And  the girls are at the top where the bad air collects and it’s like the worst.

    CHASE

    All the poor little freshmen jumping out their windows!

    JAZZ

    Those windows don’t even open!

    ZANE

    They don’t open now because of all the suicides.

    KOO

    Because of the sick building syndrome!

    (BEX – big, mean, long haired, motorcycle jacket & boots, appears on the opposite side of the door and starts hammering)

    BEX

    Jazz! Jazz! Jazz!

    (Embarrassed JAZZ slides out the door and closes it carefully after her.  BEX grabs her immediately)

    JAZZ

    Omigod, Bex, what are you doing here?  You have to go!

    BEX

    Don’t answer my texts, don’t answer my emails – You’re forcing me to stalk you. Your choice, babe. MY LIFE.

    (JAZZ tries to detach)

    JAZZ

    You’ve GOT a life. You need to get back to it. We broke up, remember?

    BEX

    So that’s it?  Kicking me to the curb?

    JAZZ

    You knew I wanted to go to college. I was lucky to get this scholarship.

    BEX

    So now you’re too good for me, is that it? Now you’re hanging out with that old guy who looks like your granddad!

    JAZZ

    (Pushing him away)

    He’s my advisor. So stop with the paparazzi scheme, Bex, stop spying on me and posting the pictures. Scram.  Go home.

    (Manages to get behind the door – slams it in his face – barricades it shut.  BEX marches offstage with a look of determination – like – he’s not quitting)

    RAD

    (Clueless)

    Thought you were making a break for it.

    CHASE

    Need help with that?

    JAZZ

    Nah. No.

                      (She sits down but nervous glance at door)

    RAD

    It’s crunch time, am I right?  Better get out now! More for us!

    ZANE

    Did you hear we all have alternates?

    RAD

    No. No way!

    ZANE

    Way. These are juicy gigs.  Paid research jobs – I mean, it never happens.

    CHASE

    Makes you wonder what he’s up to.

    ZANE

    Just making sure we show, is all.

    CHASE

    And here we are.  Why did you show up? 

    (points at JAZZ)

    JAZZ

     I’m sort of hoping it’s true. The soulmate thing.

    RAD

    The wha-?

    JAZZ

    Skydancers. Dakinis, they call them. Dreampower.

    KOO

    Didn’t you read the book?  You were supposed to read the book. Soulmates can soultravel. Like, everywhere.

    RAD

    There’s an urban legend right there for sure.

    ZANE

    It’s the remote viewing thing that I want.  Weapon of the future. Business of a lifetime.  Defense contractors throw mad money at that stuff.

    RAD

    Mad money! 

    (High fives with ZANE.)

    SOLIZ

    Astral projection? Out of body experiences? Impossible. I hope it doesn’t work because I need the sleep. I’ve got like, two other jobs.

    ZANE

    Sleep’s a luxury. Too luxurious for us bottom feeders – this is hustle time.

    KOO

    Think everyone’s got a soulmate?  Each one of us?  Out there somewhere?

    RAD

    What’s Bo Boyd say to THAT?

    KOO

    Maybe it’s him. 

    (Not like she believes it)

    CHASE

    What is the likelihood we’ll find soulmates AMONG EACH OTHER? Six strangers? Seriously!

    JAZZ

    Maybe soulmates create each other.

    CHASE

    This here is exactly why Dr. Corso chose non-psych majors!  Soulmates! Out-of-body experiences! It’s the old razzle-dazzle!  Cover story. Dr. Corso’s the king of bullshit. That’s not what he’s interested in at all! They never tell you what they’re really testing.

    RAD

    Well, then, what do you think he’s testing?

    CHASE

    Beats me. But I sure would love to know.

    JAZZ

    He’s testing our dreams. I never dreamed before I came here.  And ever since I moved in I’ve been having these fantastic dreams.

    KOO

    It’s that sick building. I’m telling you.

    ZANE

    It’s the drug the nurse gave us.  You know, at the Health Center? The tolerance test? Whatever that stuff was. My dreams were crazy, too!

    RAD

    Who can forget Tolerance Test with Nurse Humptious! God knows what she did to me while I was out of it. Probably me-tooed this poor homeboy.

    ZANE

    Yeah, she got you in trouble and now she’ll have to marry you.

    CHASE

    Whatever it is…Corso knows.

  • Queen of Swords – the Tarot play by Alysse Aallyn

    SCENE 6


    (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.


    WHITNEY
    But what will we get, I wonder?


    (Flower exchange. LIGHTS OUT.)

  • Queen of Swords – the Tarot play by Alysse Aallyn

    (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.


    (Meaningfully to WHITNEY)


    Don’t you have someplace important to be?


    (Lights out.)

  • Queen of Swords – the Tarot play by Alysse Aallyn

    SCENE 5


    (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.

  • Queen of Swords – the Tarot play by Alysse Aallyn

    (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?

  • Queen of Swords – the Tarot play by Alysse Aallyn


    (Evening. Lights up on the Hampton house. )


    WHITNEY
    (Banging)


    Charmayne!! Charmayne!!


    CHARMAYNE
    (Appearing at the door – seemingly annoyed)


    Whitney, you really do have to make an appointment. I don’t have time to play with you today.


    WHITNEY
    Oh, I think you’ll see me – Pearleen.


    CHARMAYNE
    (Steps outside, closes door carefully)


    Oh? Are your efforts to master the black arts finally paying off?


    WHITNEY
    There’s no “black ops” about it. I’ve been investigating you.


    CHARMAYNE
    Moi? Little me? How flattering. I love being the center of attention. I revel in your…involvement.


    (Making it sound sexual. Crosses her arms defensively, but says boldly)


    It’s not illegal to change your name, you know. Some names are very common. You can call yourself anything you want. And some of us were saddled by our thoughtless parents with disabling monikers we couldn’t wait to get rid of.


    WHITNEY
    But you are pretending to be someone else!


    CHARMAYNE
    Prove it.


    WHITNEY
    You’re wearing her necklace!


    CHARMAYNE
    She gave it to me. Among many other gifts. I thought I explained all that to you.


    WHITNEY
    And now no one can find her!


    CHARMAYNE
    Poor little know-nothing. You’re not even a Querent, you’re lower than that. Sludge. Pity you didn’t pursue my entire course of instruction. Then you’d see that when there’s a new Queen of Swords it’s traditional for the previous Queen to make herself scarce.


    WHITNEY
    You did something to her!


    CHARMAYNE
    Prove it.


    WHITNEY
    Plus, you misrepresented yourself when we hired you!


    CHARMAYNE
    Oh, I told Arthur all about it! It only made him admire me more. He proposed, didn’t he? I don’t think you knew your father as well as you thought you did, Whitney. He appreciated people who made something of themselves, who figured out the physics of existence. He didn’t care for helpless wannabes who hang around trading on their birth names and trying to cash in on the past. We complemented each other. He told me, I “embraced multitudes.” And that’s what he loved about me.


    WHITNEY
    He was quoting Whitman. I doubt your marriage is even legal!


    CHARMAYNE
    Now hold on, sister. Have you bothered to research common law marriage in this state? Don’t come annoying me when you haven’t done your homework! I’ll give you a head start by telling you Dr. Quantreau’s trust defines his wife as “ux” – not by name but anyone he called his wife at the time of his death.


    WHITNEY
    Prove it.


    CHARMAYNE
    I don’t have to. And a further piece of advice? When you’re coming after someone, it’s very dangerous to put them on notice. Because then they’ll be ready for you…fully armed.


    (Disappears into house, slamming the door)

  • Queen of Swords – the Tarot play by Alysse Aallyn


    (Lights up on The Library Basement Stacks at Dead Lake Community College a mini set with bookcase and elderly woman – MRS PREECE – wearing coke bottle glasses perched atop library ladder, putting books away. )


    MRS PREECE
    Why are all these students so freakishly tall? I’m going to kill myself, one of those days, trying to approximate the eye line of some basketball-playing mutant.
    (WHITNEY appears shyly around the bookcase.)


    WHITNEY
    Are you Mrs. Preece?


    MRS. PREECE
    No need to shout. I’m half-blind, not deaf. Depends who’s asking.


    WHITNEY
    I’ve been researching past Dead Lake students and the girl at the front desk said you know everything.


    MRS. PREECE
    (Coming down the ladder)
    Then I’m that Mrs. Preece. For all I knew you were looking for my mother in law and she’s been dead these forty years. And believe you me, she was no picnic when she was alive, and now that she’s dead she’s been particularly troublesome.


    (Looks WHITNEY up & down)


    Aren’t you a nice young lady! Most girls these days look so terrible I pity them. They want to look terrible is what I conclude. It’s all I can do to keep from jumping back and gagging when I see one coming – it’s like some vision of the Apocalypse. They’re arming up for something – God knows what.


    (Crosses herself)


    You look like a strong healthy girl. Not like those female zombies.


    WHITNEY
    I missed a lot. I guess I’ve been… held back.


    MRS. PREECE
    Well, stay in school forever, that’s my advice. You, – you play hockey? What’s your sport?


    WHITNEY
    God no. I hate sports.


    MRS. PREECE
    Don’t say that, girl. Games are all we have to look forward to. The only time we get to win. I was a left wing in my time. But you can’t even say “left-wing” these days.
    Teatime!


    (She swivels the ladder & bookcase to reveal two basket chairs and a squat bookcase holding a smoking kettle, which she unplugs. She pours two mugs of tea and settles into chair with a sigh.)


    WHITNEY
    (Accepting a mug)
    Do you live down here?

    MRS. PREECE
    Might as well. They’ve got facilities, haven’t they? Heat, light, the whole ball of wax. I’ve got a home but why go there? The spirit of my dead mother-in-law makes it clear she doesn’t approve of my housekeeping. No, libraries are where it’s at! Temples of learning, sanctuaries of knowledge. And they’re too cheap to hire a security guard for all this treasure. Scary. All they’ve got is little old me. When I go, it’s “poof” for all these memories. If I’m going to be haunted by somebody, I choose Emerson. Or any of the Transcendentalists, really.


    (Waves a hand)


    Education is SO wasted on the young. And it don’t stick long on the old folks, neither. People remember the way things SHOULD have happened. But I –


    (Taps her head)


    Been blessed in the brain-basket. I like the past. I remember the way things REALLY happened. So, long story short, you’ve come to the right place. Sit down and make yourself to home.


    (Long sip)


    Such a pleasure having company I’d smoke if I thought I could get away with it, but they’ve got them damn detectors. Interested in the Lake, you say? Good riddance to it! The Black Lagoon, we used to call it! Oh, it was a pile of muck after all the frogs died. You one of those conservation nuts? An echo-terrorist?


    WHITNEY
    Eco-terrorist? No. Actually I’m looking for a person. I’m Whitney Quantreau, and I’m looking for Charmayne Carr. She claims she attended this school. Charmayne Carr?

    MRS. PREECE
    I should have guessed right away that’s what you wanted! EVERYBODY’S looking for that one. Nobody knows what became of her. She just abandoned her house and walked away! But she wasn’t a student, she was a teacher. Health Ed.


    WHITNEY
    She was? Who – who’s looking for her?


    MRS. PREECE
    Her family. They need to know where she’s at! Got no idea in hell what’s become of her! And she used to support the lot of them. So it came as a shock. Does make a motive for sneaking away, having that pack hounding after you, I’d be thinking. And the cops say adults can go where they please. It’s a free country. You know what became of her?


    WHITNEY
    Well – she got married. That’s all.


    MRS. PREECE
    Married? To a MAN?


    WHITNEY
    (Flustered)
    To my father, actually. What did you think?


    MRS. PREECE
    Well, I’m not sure what’s the PC word for it, but she was one of them long-time dykes. Dressed like a man most of the time! Oh she was miserable when they tried to get her up into any sort of skirt. Nowadays she’d just go and get her sex fixed to something matching her desires.


    WHITNEY
    (Shows her phone)


    Is this her?


    MRS. PREECE
    (Clutches her heart like she’s seen a ghost)
    Oh my goodness!


    (Takes the phone)


    Never thought I’d see HER again. So she’s a blonde now? She was a redhead when I knew her.


    WHITNEY
    Isn’t that Charmayne Carr?


    MRS. PREECE
    No, it most certainly isn’t! That’s Pearleen Purdy – Charmayne’s – I don’t know WHAT you’d call her. Doctor Carr’s girlfriend.


    WHITNEY
    Are you certain?


    MRS. PREECE
    How could a body be wrong about a thing like that? Nobody ever forgot Pearleen once they saw her. I’ve even got a picture of them together here somewhere.


    (Produces a pile of college yearbooks from squat bookcase and shuffles through them)


    These are my own personal Firewalkers. I don’t let them out of my hands.


    WHITNEY
    Firewalkers!


    MRS. PREECE
    Name of our basketball team, you know, the Firewalkers. Ought to be Airwalkers, but that was taken and we’re obligated to honor the Indians since we took their land whether they like it or not. Everyone walks through fire around here. Burning up the countryside’s practically a ritual. Let’s see, fourteen years ago, wasn’t it? The two of them were in a play together. “The Real Inspector Hound.”


    (Offers the book)


    Charmayne’s the one with the moustache. She was playing a man of course. Inspector Foot of the Yard.


    (Agitated)


    Now don’t you get stains on that!


    WHITNEY
    (Puts mug down respectfully)


    She – Pearleen looks so different!


    MRS. PREECE
    Pearleen was older than most of the students. Word was she’d been a stripper out of Branson, Missouri. You’ve heard of Branson, Missouri? At The Gentleman’s Secret.
    Well, Dr. Carr had a nice big house out on the Heights and poor Pearleen grew up on that sorry lake. She came home when the developers passed out education money. Dr. Carr liked to invite girl students – poor students – I should say PRETTY students out to the Heights to live with her. She “helped” them. Folks around here called her place “The Opium Den” because it was so – I don’t know what you’d call it. Eastern-like. Cultish. With draperies and bronzes and incense. The works.


    WHITNEY
    Cult-ish?


    MRS. PREECE
    Yeah, Dr. Carr had one of them goddess religions she was the queen of. To each her own, I say. Live and let live.


    WHITNEY
    Isis? TAROT? Let me guess, was she…the Queen of Swords?


    MRS. PREECE
    Bingo. That’s it exactly. She played the cards and Pearleen played her. Dr. Carr made a pot of money with one of them role-playing games. Dr. Carr was the Queen and Pearleen was supposed to be a Princess, I think that’s the way it went. But Pearleen got rid of all those other girls one by one. Reminds me of a cat I used to have. He just couldn’t share. He chased all the other cats right off my bed. Couldn’t abide the competition. We try to turn the other cheek to promote a professional atmosphere but I‘m telling you, it was the scandal of the campus!


    WHITNEY
    (Produces phone, uses zoom)


    Did Charmayne Carr – Dr Carr – ever wear this necklace?


    MRS. PREECE
    That dagger there? Well, it looks familiar. She had lots of totem like materials. But Dr. Carr had all these folds around her neck, you see… No one wants to gaze at that too closely! No, she was never one of the “pretty ones!”


    WHITNEY
    And then she disappeared! Didn’t anybody find it suspicious?


    MRS PREECE
    Suspicious! Wasn’t I telling you her family had a meltdown! They came out here screaming like banshees! Finally declared her legally dead so they could sell her property!


    WHITNEY
    Do you remember any of their names?

    MRS PREECE
    Her brother had some very ordinary name. Like John. But I’m telling you, they don’t care anymore. The estate’s settled! They’ve even got a fake gravesite established somewhere – had a service with shrieking and wailing. Be quite a shock to them when she comes back. They’re not wanting to resurrect the dead. You’ve got a different problem than that.


    WHITNEY
    My stepmom’s an identity thief!


    MRS. PREECE
    Your poor dad’s the one got trouble, bless his heart. Play and then pay, I say! Usually through the nose. I demand all my bills up front.


    WHITNEY
    Too late for that. He’s dead, too.


    (MRS PREECE drops her Firewalker with a resounding bang. Lights out.)

  • Queen of Swords – the Tarot play by Alysse Aallyn

    WHITNEY

    (Thinking aloud)

    A demon’s real name…

    (Silence while WHITNEY thinks.  Decision.)

    WHITNEY

    Be not afraid.

    (She resumes hammering on the door.)

    Charmayne! Charmayne! Charmayne!

    CHARMAYNE

    (Seductively from the door open only a slit)

    I thought we had an agreement, Whitney.

    WHITNEY

    (Bravely)

    I’d like you to tell my fortune.  Give me a reading.  You know.  With the cards.

    CHARMAYNE

    (Instantly interested)

    Oh, you’d like that, would you? Why the sudden change of tune?

    WHITNEY

    (Graceless shrug)

    I don’t want to come back on Thursday.

    CHARMAYNE

    (Rippling laugh)

    I like you, Whitney. You shouldn’t be so teasable.  I guess it’s Ramon who will have to come back Thursday.  Surprises refresh me. You’ve never availed yourself of my gift of cartomancy before. Let me get my cards.

    (Door snaps shut)

    WHITNEY

    (Seats herself in a patio chair)

    Here goes nothing.

    CHARMAYNE

    (Appearing with a full tray)

    Here, take this.  

    (Lumbers WHITNEY with enormous tray while CHARMAYNE carefully closes door behind her)

    Careful with that!

    (WHITNEY unloads tray onto patio table)

    CHARMAYNE

    I’m so pleased about this little tête a tête. Choose your poison. Kids these days drink only vodka. Vodka! (She snorts) Youth is so wasted on the young.

    WHITNEY

    I drink tequila.

    CHARMAYNE

    Oh, I bet you do.  Care to knock back some shots?

    (She mimes it)

    In vino veritas, Whitney. I’ll save you the worm.

    WHITNEY

    Please don’t quote Latin at me.  It makes me feel I’m back at boarding school.

    CHARMAYNE

    Life’s one school after another, Whitney.  Endless initiation into unimagined horizons.  All birth’s painful. A little medicine eases the transition.

    WHITNEY

    No thanks.  I still have to drive home.  Water’s fine.

    CHARMAYNE

    You always were as stubborn as a mule.  So be it! Ready to concentrate on the future?

    WHITNEY

    I still have some questions about the past.

    CHARMAYNE

    (Sits, bounces a leg impatiently)

    Oh, Whitney, Whitney!  If I could only get you to see that your obsession with the past is so self-defeating!  Here you are a young girl – an almost beautiful young girl who could be better than beautiful if she made any effort – and all you do is look back.  On a mere nineteen years of life!

    (Shakes her head)

    If I’d stayed stuck like you, I’d still be gigging frogs down by the lake.

    WHITNEY

    What lake?

    CHARMAYNE

    (Immediate self-protection)

    Oh, I grew up on a lake.  Didn’t I mention?  A sad sleazy little lake surrounded by wooden cabins – some of them actually on wheels. It’s all gone now.

    WHITNEY

    Maybe, but surely the lake is still there.

    CHARMAYNE

    Oh no.  It’s all gone now. Paved over. Things change, Whitney.  Get used to it!  The past is always more disgusting than people are willing to concede.

    WHITNEY

    But who would pave a lake?

    CHARMAYNE

    The water was attacked by some invasive…they had to get rid of it. I would have walked through fire to get out of that place.

    WHITNEY

    (Very stubborn)

    But how could you still be at the lake if it’s gone?

    CHARMAYNE

    I would have fought the changes, that’s my point.  But what would I get? A dead lake and a dying life ! Instead, look at this!

    (Waves over the audience)

    I have the ocean!  The whole Atlantic Ocean…

    WHITNEY

    So tell me about that dagger you wear around your neck.

    CHARMAYNE

    (Playing with it)

    A girl after my own heart!  No sooner do I give one gift than you want another. This golden dagger is a dear memento given to me by my mentor years ago. On completing my study of tarot.

    WHITNEY

    (Flat footedly)

    What was her name?

    CHARMAYNE

    Oh, Whitney…Whitney…You can never bathe in the same river twice!  I only care about the future. All this could be yours someday… if you play your cards right.  

                                                    WHITNEY

    Depends which deck we’re using.

    CHARMAYNE

    (Silvery laughter)

    My deck of course! You don’t have a deck! Whitney, I want to be your friend. I treasured my own mentor – she made all the difference in my life –  I’ve often wondered what it would be like to have a protégée. I never knew it would be you.

                                                    WHITNEY

    Why do you think so? 

    CHARMAYNE

    You’re so young, so unformed. And you have such a thirst for knowledge!  I was that way once, wondering how things work.

    (Reaches out to touch WHITNEY’S hair – WHITNEY steels herself)

    If only you knew how much I want to give you things.

    WHITNEY

    You do?

    (This disturbs her)

    Like what?

    CHARMAYNE

    I could show you the lynchpins of the universe if only you would let me.  Very few of us were born with a silver spoon in our mouths and a golden rattle clutched in our chubby baby hands the way you were, Whitney.  You need to see the world for what it really is. You don’t accept what’s on offer – you go your own way – I was like that, too. I can teach you how to never be defeated. But first I must know.  Are you a Querent or a Firewalker?

    WHITNEY

    A what?

    CHARMAYNE

    Is this idle curiosity or will you accept the challenge that is offered – whatever it requires? Can you stand up to what must be revealed?

    (She produced and shuffles the tarot cards – with threatening skill)

    The time is never riper.  Open your mind, Whitney and accept.  IF that’s what you’re here for.

    WHITNEY

    I’m definitely a firewalker.

    CHARMAYNE

    I thought so! Welcome to the Way of Fire.  Enter the temple. Cut.

    (Offers cards to WHITNEY who cuts the deck and selects one.)

                                                    CHARMAYNE

    Don’t just take a card. Wait for the proper moment. 

    WHITNEY

    Did you ever wait? 

    CHARMAYNE

    (CHARMAYNE takes the card from her and studies it)

                Touché!

    I suppose you chose the card most eager to speak to you.  Look, it’s The Fool!

    (Tarot of The Fool springs up as a hologram or on projection screen)

    WHITNEY

    That’s supposed to be me?

    CHARMAYNE

    It’s the card you chose so yes, it has something to say to you. Look at it.

    WHITNEY

    That I‘m a number zero? Is that what it’s telling me? I don’t like your tarot language.

    CHARMAYNE

    You’re always braced for insult, Whitney. In your private language you can never be defined by someone else. Open your cage. The Fool is stuck, he can’t move on. Moving on is the First Principle of Life.

    WHITNEY

    (Leaning across the table)

    My father is gone.

    CHARMAYNE

    He was almost ninety, Whitney.  Death happens.  You had him longer than I did.  Get over it. I never question the past.

    WHITNEY

    I was raised to appreciate history because if you don’t understand it, you repeat it.

    CHARMAYNE

    We all were born graceless and angry, raging and accusatory.  It’s only a shame if you stay that way. Look at the fool’s face. He thinks he’s free.  See the rose he picked?  All the while he’s standing on a cliff edge!

                                                    WHITNEY

    I reject this card. I demand another card.

     (Snatches one up. CHARMAYNE is unflustered.)

    CHARMAYNE

    That’s not the way this game is played.

    WHITNEY

    Maybe it’s the way I play.  You don’t get to define me.

    CHARMAYNE

    Fortunately the tarot is wiser than you. Look what you’ve chosen! The Tarot laughs!

    (Queen of Swords card appears onscreen – bare breasted and swinging double knives)

                                                    WHITNEY

    You put that there!

                                                    CHARMAYNE

    You chose it yourself!

    WHITNEY

    You probably had that card up your sleeve. Here’s my card – I’ll turn it up myself.

    (Priestess Tarot card onscreen)

    CHARMAYNE

    The High Priestess! How appropriate! 

    WHITNEY

    What’s appropriate about that?

    CHARMAYNE

    The High Priestess is a woman pretending to be a man, Whitney.  She abhors feminine wiles. Because you’re so interested in history you might as well know she’s base on Pope Joan,  the only female Pope.  She’s the guardian of hidden knowledge. See, she’s holding the Torah with the last letter hidden.

    (WHITNEY bridles)

                                                    WHITNEY

    She looks like a little old man.

    CHARMAYNE

    Don’t take everything so personally.  Seekers are often forced to wear disguise. Life’s a contest and the weak go to the wall.  Look at the Priestess standing on the moon between the lotus pillars and ask yourself, how does that make you feel?

    WHITNEY

    Weak.   

    CHARMAYNE

    Well don’t admit it ever. Never spill your guts. The first law is bluster.  After awhile it comes naturally. 

    WHITNEY

    I thought the first law was moving on.

                                                    CHARMAYNE

    (Irritated)

    That’s the first principle.  Try to keep up.

                                                    WHITNEY

    Doesn’t bluster risk losing yourself? 

                                                    CHARMAYNE

    There is no self! We are self-created. Your father always used to say – oh, never mind. The Priestess reveals her secret when the time is right.

                                                    WHITNEY

    What did my father always say?

                                                    CHARMAYNE

    You wouldn’t believe me if I told you. Now allow me to choose a card for you.

     (Prince of Wands appears. He looks a lot like EIGHT) 

    CHARMAYNE

    I knew a man would show up sooner or later. Do you know this handsome devil?  What do you suppose is the meaning of his big, big stick?

    (She laughs)

    (WHITNEY works hard to stay cool)

    WHITNEY

    I‘ve met him.

    CHARMAYNE

    (Surprised and nettled that there’s anything she doesn’t know)

    Oh? Where? Is he your boyfriend?

                                                    WHITNEY

    (Smug)

    You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.

    CHARMAYNE

    Still waters run deep!  Possibly he’s your power card, Whitney. The elegant Prince of Wands has been pushed out of his home and sent on a journey with no weapon to protect himself other than sticks he picks up.  He’s a dowser.

    WHITNEY

    He’s a treasure seeker.

    CHARMAYNE

    Well I’d very much like to meet him.  We could have a tequila party. Would you like that?

                                                    WHITNEY

    No. Just tell me what it means.

    CHARMAYNE

    This must be very new – I don’t blame you wanting to keep him to yourself. The Prince of Wands is about developing intuition, cultivating talents. He’s a wily character, not well born like the Prince of Swords. He’s scrappy, like me, came from nothing. He’s had to learn to excel at something – to master it. He presages sudden changes of direction, even a journey.  It could be a lucky card, Whitney, especially since you rejected The Fool.  But like everything else in life, you must claim it. Claim your power, Whitney, I can show you how. Should you fail; the card’s power is reversed.  Then it presages devastating loss, capture, and imprisonment.

    WHITNEY

    Imprisonment?

    CHARMAYNE

    (Exasperated)

    I could say more if you would tell me about him.

                                                    WHITNEY

    Forget it. Give me another card.

                                                    CHARMAYNE

    You’re entitled to an eight card spread.

    WHITNEY

    Eight?

                                                    CHARMAYNE

    Is that your lucky number?

    WHITNEY

    Maybe.

    (WHITNEY spreads cards messily over the table)

    CHARMAYNE

    This isn’t slapjack, Whitney. We all have to play the cards the goddess deals. You’ll cancel out the reading!

    (WHITNEY throws cards to the ground.)

                                                    CHARMAYNE

    Some reverence if you please!

    WHITNEY

    (Produces a card triumphantly)

    Here’s the one I want!  Judgment!

    (The Judgment card appears onscreen)

    Even this one’s not very impressive. Why does the Tarot show nothing but little old men? 

    CHARMAYNE

    It doesn’t. The Major Arcana is strongly female. 

    WHITNEY

    Well the Judgment Card looks like my Dad to me.

    CHARMAYNE

    That shows your ignorance. Some have eyes but are too blind to see.

    (Wearily picking up cards)

    The Tarot won’t be mocked, Whitney.  You’re asking for trouble.

    WHITNEY

    I don’t think I’m the one in trouble.

                                                    CHARMAYNE

    Believe me, you are.

                                                    WHITNEY

    I DON’T believe you. Your threats are vague – you can’t even be specific.

    CHARMAYNE

    (Threateningly)

    It’s whatever you most fear that stalks you. Behind the fear lies…the wish.

    (She laughs)

    The ignorant are so helpless! This card doesn’t even signify what you think it means.

    WHITNEY

    So what does it mean, then? 

    CHARMAYNE

    It’s the regeneration card. See the dead rising on the bottom of the card there? That angel’s going to suck them right up into her trumpet!

    (She laughs wildly)

    WHITNEY

    You don’t think the dead can rise?

    CHARMAYNE

    Depends on how they died.

                                                    WHITNEY

    What do you mean, HOW?

    CHARMAYNE

    (Threateningly)

    They can’t rise if they’ve lost their souls.

    WHITNEY

    (Shaken)

    Oh, that’s bullshit.  Who says that?

    CHARMAYNE

    The Book of the Dead.  They’re the experts. Your firewalk is just beginning, Whitney! I’ve been doing it for years. My feet are well-hardened. There’s so much you don’t know.

    WHITNEY

    (Overturns the table standing up)

    I guess the reading’s over.

    (They face each other across the mess)

    CHARMAYNE

    I guess it is.  Some people can’t be helped. 

    (As CHARMAYNE bends down WHITNEY pretends to leave but hides behind the boulder, trying to calm her breathing).

    CHARMAYNE

    (Calling after her)

    That was a one-time offer! Let me know if you ever get serious about claiming your power!

    (Shrugs)

    Kids. They insist on leaving the field to me. Which is fine, knowing how I hate to share.

    (Clears the table, takes tray into house EXIT).

    WHITNEY

    (Pulls out her phone and starts typing)

    Book of the Dead, eh?   I have some magic of my own and it’s called Google.  I remember now, that faked up résumé said something about Dead Lake Community College…

    (Lights down.)