(Goes to sit disconsolately on the beach behind the boulder, hidden from the house. EIGHT appears, wielding his metal detector.)
WHITNEY (Sarcastically)
Well if it ain’t the Prince of Wands.
EIGHT Excuse me? Name’s Eight. Like pieces of eight?
WHITNEY Well, I found out the demon’s name. And it got me exactly nowhere. It’s Creature from the Black Lagoon one, and Firewalkers zero.
EIGHT One battle ain’t a war. What happened?
WHITNEY She stole someone’s identity! And then that person disappeared! She killed her mentor. Probably robbed her into the bargain.
EIGHT That one’s a piece of work all right.
WHITNEY It’s real bad. But it was fourteen years ago. The missing person’s been declared dead even though no one ever found the body, my father’s trust says it doesn’t matter who he was married to when he died, and if Charmayne hasn’t already legally changed her name now she’s probably going to.
EIGHT Nothing works when you give up that fast.
WHITNEY She even had the nerve to accuse ME of Black Magic.
EIGHT She did? Oh, Whit! Don’t you see how great that is? You recognized the demon, called it by name, and it recognized YOU! You’re on your way, girl!
WHITNEY I thought you were the one warning me against descending to her level.
EIGHT (Hunkers down beside her)
She believes this stuff, is all I’m saying. She’s not your ordinary con. You can’t get her where she’s fake, so you have to get her where she’s real.
WHITNEY Well, I’m going to need a lot more magic. You got any on you?
EIGHT (Running his metal detector over her body – it rattles excitedly)
You don’t need my magic. You’ve got plenty of your own!
WHITNEY (Collapsing disconsolately)
Prove it.
EIGHT Look. I’d say there’s at least two reasons to steal an identity. One is, you actually want to be that person. The other is, you don’t want to be yourself.
WHITNEY Because?
EIGHT Do I have to spell everything out for you? I’m saying, if you’re willing to get rid of one person…
WHITNEY (Starting to get worked up)
You mean maybe she’s done it before? My stepmom, the serial killer!
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.
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…
CHARACTERS (4) Charmayne: a beautiful, powerful woman just at the drop off point into middle age Whitney: a stubborn, determined girl on the cusp of adulthood who doesn’t give a damn about her looks Eight: mysterious male beachcomber, late 20’s The Guardians of the Past: (can be played by a single actor) Dr Quantreau: elderly male in fishing regalia Mrs. Preece: bug-eyed, spry, elderly woman Mr. Butterbatch: an old man leaning on his broom; a fount of knowledge Mrs. Davish: motherly, grave-tending woman
SCENES:
A “beach cottage” exterior in the Hamptons & beach
The basement “stacks” of a community college library
Hamptons beach
Empty strip club “Guilty Pleasures” in the early morning
Hamptons
Dead Lake Cemetery
SCENE 1 (Morning. The seaside. Corner of a Hamptons-type “cottage”, boulder, hammock, patio set, easy chair, beachplum. WHITNEY forcefully banging on the door.)
WHITNEY This is MY story and she DOESN’T get to tell it! Charmayne!! Charmayne!!
(Through the French windows above the front door we see a man and a woman waltzing together. CHARMAYNE, expensively dressed for glittering “sport” opens the doors and leans out over the balcony. Man hovers in background. All we can see of him is his lithe figure, a glitter of gold necklaces and a shirt open to the navel. )
CHARMAYNE Go away little Whitney. Can’t you see its time for my fencing lesson?
(Making cha-cha moves)
WHITNEY Is that what you call it?
CHARMAYNE That’s what everyone calls it. You’d do well to engage in a little exercise plan of your own.
(WHITNEY resumes hammering on door which CHARMAYNE eventually opens carrying a pair of old-fashioned sabers, one in each hand. Door closes behind so WHITNEY can’t see in)
CHARMAYNE (Swinging the swords in her hands)
Really, Whitney. Hasn’t anyone ever told you how unattractive it is to make a pest out of yourself?
WHITNEY Why can’t I go in?
CHARMAYNE (Briskly) Because it’s my house now, Whitney. I don’t want you to see it till it’s done. It’s going to be a work of art. This morning I had the carpet men; this afternoon I had the drapery men, and this evening…(sniffs the air)
WHITNEY That’s a lot of men.
CHARMAYNE One shouldn’t be afraid of these things, Whitney. And this evening… Who knows what the evening holds? En garde!
(She treats WHITNEY to a frightening display of swordswomanship. WHITNEY tries to remain calm)
WHITNEY I didn’t come to see your games.
CHARMAYNE These aren’t games, poor little Whitney, these are the skills of life. Look! I’ll show you a few moves!
(Tosses a saber at WHITNEY who ducks – it clatters away.) Oh, Whitney, you’re no fun. You really need to step more boldly in the world.
WHITNEY (A little sad, childishly punctured. She’s easy game)
I’m here, aren’t I? I like fishing. And skeet shooting.
CHARMAYNE Both of those can be done from an easy chair! Where’s the challenge in that? Why not crouch in a dark basement under a garden hose waiting for rats to skitter past if that’s all you’re going to do.
WHITNEY Seriously, when am I going to see inside? I just wondered…you know, about the family things…
CHARMAYNE There are no family things I like everything new. Antiques are a fraud perpetrated on the unwary. Don’t you remember we agreed you’d give me twenty-four hours notice before showing up?
WHITNEY I doubt we ever agreed about anything.
CHARMAYNE I’m afraid your lack of planning doesn’t constitute my emergency.
WHITNEY I’m giving you twenty-four hours notice now, then.
CHARMAYNE I’m so sorry, no can do tomorrow. How about Thursday?
WHITNEY (Like she’s never heard of it)
Thursday!!
CHARMAYNE (Silky)
Do try to squeeze it in. Young people fetishize spontaneity. When you’re all grown up I’m sure you’ll realize everything worth having comes through careful planning. Shall we say “tea?” Cinq à sept is my favorite hour. Ta ta, then.
EVA I am gnawed by an aching hopeless wish. Loneliness leads to breakdown, Becomes dementia. I batter Around the rooms of this castle, However brightly-plumaged, Knocking into furniture, A tragic bird who’s trapped indoors. Even dizzy with drink I maintain the frigidity Of an Edwardian hostess Intolerant of scenes at meals. Without you life’s a half-lit room.
EVAN I’ve become a character in your melodrama An absurd creature of romantic vice. Hopeless dilemma.
EVA What could be more beautiful than our ten days in New York, Walking among the perverted architecture. No loss of illusion, rather an increase. I’m in the midst of a dreary financial crisis, Having breakdown on my feet. I hope I don’t sound too shocked and sad. You are life to me as nothing is. My fingers still tremble, Touching you after 17 years.
EVAN This is the Eva I first met, first knew, first loved. We waited it out and didn’t lose each other. I was sane or mad to doubt you & myself. We are like two people sweating blood I feel further from you than ever. I dread losing you But Elayna’s power still holds me. I fear I may do one of you harm.
EVA Thanks for the money, I hope it doesn’t embarrass you too much. You are a reviver and a balm. We must be in Paris together before we die.
EVAN If you want me to be unselfish, let me be unselfish. You are my greatest friend. I’m Trying to keep off the drink while you’re here, Otherwise I know I’ll wreck everything. Three manhattans makes me crazy. Your feverish cheer does not seem solid. Is this the wreckage of our love? Once frightened of your clinical eye Now I’m more frightened of my own. I’ve matriculated in Your fearful university.
EVA We sheer away in horror Scenting fumes of evil As we lose control. Defeat and exhaustion, alarm and despondency. Demoralized and sad. Slam down the lid on pain and resentment: I have taken against your family. Let’s dance. To sit In silence denigrates our love.
EVAN My heart aches for you. We talked for the first time in weeks About hurt and resentment. I could manage my life if it weren’t for you And you could manage yours if it weren’t for me. You infect me with your despair and I flee to my wife To release the pressure. Her quickening influence works my imagination.
EVA I hate that you are in New York without me. You pervade that place as God pervades our hearts. My life is based on my assumption Of togetherness and my Secret fear you’re being got at When we could be snug together. I obsess that you’re in places where I’m not. I could not live without seeing you. I dread our visit may turn sour.
EVAN Everything except your beautiful self rusts Or dies or goes away. My love only seems dead; it’s alive underneath. If you die I shall never forgive you We need ideas that are less about ourselves.
EVAN I hurt Elayna tonight But there’s no help for it. She cares for me and I only care for a life apart. A clean break, an amputation Makes me frantic and guilty. She says we have a happy marriage only because She willed it. This smell of death and decay Makes me long for sex. Could you help me find a girl – any girl you choose – Or will you call me a sex mad degenerate? Panic makes my hands shake. I thought of Elayna and I wept.
EVA I received your sad, wild letter. I accept that you can’t free yourself. Do you accept it? I feel so very near you. I accept that you make sex Desperately with strangers – Do you accept it? Can anyone love such a cold-blooded person?
EVAN How silly I am, I thought I was reconciled to our ending, Expected a falling off of tension & illusion. But it’s a prospect I can’t face.
EVA Miracles happen but The gift of love causes guilt & pain.
EVAN I am utterly becalmed. What I dread most is silence, The latest form of impotence. I need stringing up and tautening. Revenge on love. Revenge on me.
EVA I am suffused with love because I am free. My work becomes our child, An extension of us. Immortal. Still, Something vanishes when you’re not there.
EVAN Elayna broke her hip. How irreplaceable she is to me. Our brand of married happiness is entirely unsung. I shrink to leave her even for a day.
EVA I’m sorry it’s not fatal. Am I dispensable to you? You love no one. If you turn against me I’ll die in a week because I have no one looking after me.
EVAN Turn against you! Agonizing! In spite of the hangover of humiliation I broke down all reserves so we could be together. A very happy day and I was sorry to leave you.
EVA Wed & sad. Past distress is muffled by age & habit. Today we meet formally as if at a garden party. A promise unfulfilled.
EVAN You looked so ill I was nagged by fear I bored you. I long for the happiness of old age, Guilt free, pain free, fear free. In your silence I feel your calming hand.
EVA I invited Elayna to lunch.
EVAN I am not best pleased. The day you come to like each other Our love will die. It will be Poison to our love. Elayna rarely admits depression. I have had not just love but loyalty. Your ghost will haunt me till I die. You force ruthlessness. It is a good thing your throat is sore Or you would never stop talking.
EVA Are you sending me your signet ring? I want something solid to remember you As I dodge death, fight off this Paralyzing loneliness. Our last communion.
(EVA fades away. EVAN is alone.)
EVAN Is the flaw in love a flaw in me? I never should have married. My heart jumps with pain like a hooked fish. I am rudderless. Upon your death My ring comes back, All your contrivances revealed. Now you are gone, I find you everywhere. We will never see each other again; Never, never, never. You are gone from me forever. I walk the streets and weep. Is this delayed shock? Boredom or despair? I will never cease to feel this pain till I cease feeling anything. For the last three nights, I dreamed of you. Did I anger you, neglect you? It’s too late to pray – I await your final book with horror. I need to know I was your life. Please Come back one last time to tell me Just for an hour. If you ever thought you loved more than I You are revenged.
EVAN This is the letter I would write you if I dared, if I weren’t frightened bf the cancer Of your Elayna-hatred. I am overworked, wrung out. I feel possessed by you. You must always live at the pitch of anguish. Our love has roots in good and evil, It lives in the darkest places of our natures Despite of its pleasant surface. Shall we end by destroying each other? You have the deadlier weapons.
EVA I have a bad effect on people. Guilt, conspiracy, love, I cannot breathe without them. Oh, the pain of your reproach! Not seeing you would kill me. I live for the memory of our every moment. I wouldn’t give a damn if I had a month to live.
EVAN Boredom, dissipation, remorse, And apprehension– I can’t escape this obsessive cycle. Beneath the controlled surface of my mind Opportunities to be frenzied are endless. I’m afraid of saying something evil which many stick.
EVA Gratitude for our happiness chokes me. This restlessness of things going to waste. Missing you is like an illness. I have never fallen out of love with you. The flame is always there. The place is full of you. I can no longer look at hyacinths
EVAN There’s a worm in this bud But who is its corruptor? Your insights are so powerful they alter mine. I’m sorry for your husband’s death. I feel a shift in the angle of vision. A sadness fell on me A foreboding so final it seemed the end. Your pleading for our life dissolved my will. I agree to renewal, something I can live by But I refuse your guilt.
EVA Did I leave my diary behind? Don’t read it, not that you would. It’s anaphrodisiac. I am filled with envious admiration For the way you spend your time. You get so much done!
EVAN Of course, it’s an incentive to work, being alone. You have created your own circle Even if the intelligentsia is as insensitive as you say. I’m grateful we are calm, Those fearful scenes never likely to begin again. I’m sure the panic of youth has played a part. I used to hope you would love me less over time But now I think we love each other equally.
EVA I believe we should exchange rings. Do you think this faux? Would Elayna object? This is so I have something in case you die of that itch or fall out of an airplane. I wonder why Elayna’s throat won’t heal? I believe she is ice-bound. She’s sealing you away from life.
EVAN You witch, you have Frozen Elayna’s throat. I begged you not to. You make Sadness physical.
EVA Elayna’s frozen her own throat I wish you’d see it. Depression is hallucinatory. Guilt and sorrow undermine all confidence, I refuse to give them credence.
You are so near me I feel we are one person. I feel you now beside me. I will make you real.
EVAN These acute waves of feeling sometimes come over me As if you’re signaling. I owe you happiness But I can’t express it. We must always believe life is as beautiful as the music Says it is. The illusions you must cultivate are in fact A form of courage. Forget my deficiencies Find amusement in the worldly game.
EVA Without Allen, I re-experience my youth. Oh, the bafflement of the young! I broke off my engagement because I loved too much And cast about for a spouse I could Control. I believe you did that, too.
EVAN Our parting was unbearable. I had to run away – Your rush of talk was like someone bursting into tears. I feel like an executioner robbing you of sleep. My nose began to bleed and It’s been bleeding ever since. We must love each other less to become more tranquil.
EVA I am a witch and you should fear me. I glow with contempt and boredom and fury. I don’t understand why I can’t experience life by your side. We share the same senses, The same vein of joy. Our life together is timeless, continuous.
EVAN Your letter’s fraught with dynamite. I can never be alone, it is me and the gin bottle. I am home nowhere now – except with you.
EVA I don’t want you getting yourself into a state But Edgar has proposed, forcing me to face the fact That I literally cannot live without you.
EVAN I dread you will fall for Edgar. You called him “sweet” and “cozy” and “brilliantly entertaining” And I am none of those things. Did you bewitch him? he said in a persecuted voice. It would your justice, sending me to hell. We would lose each other by inches, But aren’t we doing that already?
EVA I can’t show Edgar the brutal candor Behind my loving kindness. He mistakes the hostess for a person. I arrange the flowers in symbols of you And everyone’s too stupid to notice. To bed alone again tonight. I wish Elayna would die. Then we should be equals.
I like women willful, late For appointments, fond of showy clothes and society, vague, drifting, dreamy, yet of course all of that is tiresome. But I don’t like competence, intellectual honesty, intelligent sensuality. Women keep turning on me saying, “You don’t love me.” What good is it to have been so happy when it ends so painfully? I am a “crook”, a “torturer of women”, “Murderer.” She has made me feel a monster. Below the surface of the will I feel deep animal distress, as if I had wives Hidden away somewhere To marry my present wife.
EVA I find your misery gratifying. When I was younger I used to Accommodate everyone – Now I’m recalcitrant. You’re never out of my thoughts, but Sadness dulls one. Honestly, I always risk failing you, Failing you in outstandingness. You are extraordinary, I am extraordinary, we have been extraordinary together. We’re specimens under glass. It hurts because the pin runs through both of us. The agonizing force of missing you Is sweeping over me. We have eternity connecting us, Backward & forward but I can’t get anyone to believe it.
EVAN Would my death simplify things? My wife struggles with carrying the conversation While I stare glumly at the rain. We go to an expensive little restaurant And pretend we are on a date to really talk.
EVA That woman’s killing you. Imagine if you were dead and your wife Wrote a book explaining you To everyone! That’s true suffering – Fodder for the mealy-mouthed.
EVAN My wife won’t be writing any books About me or about anything. You’re the one To write the book. I feel safe in your hands.
EVA Except I’ve told you over and over You’ll outlive me. You’re killing me. Or your wife is. I’ll die of my addiction – We always do. We prefer it. Will you write about me?
EVAN I’ve lied to everyone for So long, I’m sure that truth Is beyond me.
EVA I’d rather see you dead at my feet Than dead ON your feet. That would be a mercy killing – The last unbearable agony – Wondering if you existed at all. I have small talent for this. I have disgraced my idealism, Pretending boredom can be fruitful. Waiting, waiting for you everywhere. I Wake one day to find I’ve lost my looks, my hair, fascination, brain – everything.
EVAN You’re simply waking up In an empty hotel. The light is always different The morning after. This is what middle-aged people do. I love the brutality of your world. You never fade. You are my word made flesh.
EVA You are my religion. Until In fell in love with you I was 25 inside. I lived in a world of dreams and theories. Your experiences seem realer to me than mine.
EVAN To have touched the same places Is a bond between us. Social instinct is my religion.
EVA Middle-aged people go to weddings Out of perverse fascination for the bride. I was that bride – My day was all champagne. Anaesthetized It doesn’t hurt so much. Such a sense of enormity came over me I almost fainted. I gave Allen the dirtiest look: “You caused this.” Without wedding dress I was a restless, dowdy snob. People were falling in love left and right – Even in decaying marriages. I wanted that – He read my subtext. And I was caught.
EVAN These dreary parties have a decaying effect. My loneliness for you is like a whiplash. Your absence is a bitter injury But nothing can injure our love – We’re too strong for them. I’m silenced till I hear from you. If I let myself go I would feel desperate. I can’t bear you’re going to France without me – isn’t love our country?
EVA I won’t say “I’ll die if you don’t come” Because I know you would come if you possibly could. What a skeleton in the cupboard a wife is.
EVAN Don’t be jealous of Elayna. You are the only goal Toward which my life is tending. You are the meaning of my life. I could never live for work alone.
EVA You enlarge my soul. In your mind is my existence. You’re more real to me than me. I’m in a peculiar psychic state. It’s an atmosphere of illusion. I envy Elayna all the time. It drips like an irritant over my nerves.
EVAN What of Allen? You Have your worse half too.
EVA Oh, Allen spends his time lost in woods, Falling in love with trees. He’s No threat to anyone.
EVAN To understand one’s destiny One needs a framework for this mass of experience. How can I live separated from you? If I stopped caring for you I couldn’t care for anything. I need my wife, her whip-cracking organization. I loathe living in the squalor I get into on my own. Having breakfast OUT of bed is the last horror. Miasmic feelings of impossibility and terror. Help me.
EVA We help each other By existing. Except for God I have no help but you. Our love is growing more formidable as our unshakeable belief Grows stronger. Like grace, it renews itself. All yesterday I glowed. My inability to accept your wife Is my deformity – help me with it. The light of our love is the only light for me.
(A chorus of Cardinals, sedate & proper, approaches from right, a more colorful chorus of Goombas from left.)
CARDINALS Oyez, oyez, oyez. Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, pro in iudico minimum definitionem, quo justo intellegebat ne.
GOOMBAS A guy’s gotta live Ain’t a guy gotta live? You Do right by me and I’ll do right By you.
JACK RUBY (Appearing on balcony – flat affect – as crowd blends in below)
The world will never know the true facts Of what occurred. My motives. I’m the only person in the background That knows the truth pertaining to Everything relating to my Circumstances. The people who have had So much to gain and had such an Ulterior motive to put me in this position Will never let the true facts come Out to the world.
GOOMBA # 1 But you’re crazy!
JACK RUBY I have locomotor attacks-you.
(Spreading his arms, he falls ritualistically off balcony & is absorbed into crowd. JOE KENNEDY appears on balcony)
JOE KENNEDY Has anybody seen my son? I’m looking for my son.
GOOMBAS & CARDINALS TOGETHER Woe is you! Woe is you!
JOE Has anyone seen my boy?
CARDINAL VOICE Which one, your honor?
GOOMBA # 1 You rat, you.
JOE KENNEDY The big one. My big boy.
GOOMBA #2 But he’s crazy.
JACK RUBY He’s been struck. He’s been struck down.
GOOMBA #3 We all get hit. Take a rap, be a prince.
CARDINALS (together, waving arms) Vidit scriptorem vix in, ceteros tractatos assentior pro no. Ius etiam ornatus voluptua ne. Invenire democritum consectetuer an eum.
GOOMBA #4 Give us a taste! Just a little taste!
CARDINALS An offering! An offering!
JOE (Rains fluttering bills upon the crowd) My wife went to church My daughters prayed – I had four fine sons. Joe was smart, Jack was charming Bobby was loyal and Teddy –
(Pauses. Sighs.)
Teddy runs to keep up.
GOOMBA #5 Didn’t you make a deal?
JOE Deal? I made plenty Turned one dollar into twenty To forty, to five million. Of course I made deals.
CARDINAL #1 The father shall eat sour grapes And the children’s teeth Shall be set on edge.
(The CARDINALS break ranks and look at each other, amazed.)
CARDINAL #2 If you sow the wind you Reap the whirlwind.
(The CARDINALS & GOOMBAS merge together, oohing and sighing as if a wind shudders through them.)
GOOMBAS Omerta! Omerta!
CARDINALS Qui habitat! Qui habitat!
GOOMBAS & CARDINALS TOGETHER A deal’s a deal! A deal’s a deal!
JOE But I wanted only fine things My boys to grow up
Grab everything they wanted Take their place, rule the world.
GOOMBAS But you gotta play ball!
JOE I played ball with the unions! I played ball with the cruisers Settled scores with the bruisers. I know to grease skids I know to oil palms.
GOOMBA #1 We helped you with Jack And you sicced us with Bobby!
JOE I never sicced anybody!
(the crowd jeers and boos, CARDINALS cover faces in shame)
GOOMBA #2 Bobby won’t play right.
GOOMBA #3 Bobby’s a hard ass!
CARDINAL #3 (Very offended) Bobby’s a good boy!
GOOMBA #4 He’s TOO good a boy if you know what I mean.
JOE I’ll speak to Bobby! Let me speak to Bobby!
GOOMBAS Too late. It’s too late.
JACK RUBY You can’t speak to nobody, Joe. You’ve been struck down.
(JOE throws out his arms and falls into crowd as if dead. The CARDINALS rush out a wheelchair. NORMA JEANE appears sneaking through crowd. As JOE is whisked offstage, attention turns to her, in spite of the fact that she’s wearing dark glasses, a kerchief, halter top, ballet flats and Capri pants)
GOOMBA #1 Hey, guys, it’s Marilyn!
GOOMBAS (chanting) Marilyn, Marilyn!
NORMA JEANE That’s not me, boys, I’m Norma Jeane.
GOOMBA #2 Aw, come on Marilyn, there’s no disguising that shape!
GOOMBA #3 I can smell her!
NORMA JEANE Marilyn is dead, boys, everyone knows that.
(Takes off her glasses)
See? It’s just me. Poor old Norma-never-been-nowhere-Jeane.
CARDINAL #3 Lying’s a sin, Marilyn.
GOOMBA #1 Dance for us, Marilyn. Do a little of this- and that –
(he simulates a bump and grind)
And these and those!
CARDINAL #1 Just give us a little song, Marilyn. Just for the kids. We’d be ever so grateful.
NORMA JEANE You all know Marilyn’s dead. I’m just trying to find Bobby.
CARDINAL #2 Bobby? What do you want Bobby for?
CARDINAL #3 Are you trying to get that nice boy in trouble?
GOOMBAS (Chanting) Marilyn! Marilyn!
(They grab her up on their shoulders and lift her up to the balcony)
NORMA JEANE No! I don’t want to go! There’s no more Marilyn!
(But they are touching her everywhere. She gives up and climbs into the balcony.)
OK, boys, one last time.
(She throws off her glasses and kerchief, shakes out her hair, one grind, one bump, blows a kiss, EXITS.)
Alysse Aallyn 