It wasn’t till the day the spiral stair was installed that Scarlet finally began to feel better. Maybe this was all she’d required: a positive personal accomplishment. Now the Tower was finally accessible! And then there was more. Ian came home whistling, saying, “Wait till you see what I’ve got for you.”
What a wonderful gift, a glorious nineteenth century lady’s desk – a mass of pigeonholes and drawers like a huge jewelry box. “There’s probably a secret drawer but nobody knows where,” said Ian.
The wood was in poor shape – covered with ink stains – but Scarlet was dazzled. “Oh, Ian!” she gasped. “It’s the best present ever!” When she commented on other people’s desks it was always the storage that she envied – give every idea its own resting place. It was a deeply flattering gift. He really had paid attention to her all these years! She hugged him breathlessly.
“Is it possible -?” she wondered, gazing upwards, but Rocco the Enabler was way ahead of her.
“We could winch it up,” he promised and a pulley was installed at the top of the house. The fine new desk, two Windsor chairs, a bookcase and a table were winched up to the tower room. Scarlet made one awkward trip upwards to supervise their installation. The small Tower room had windows on all four sides looking out over every bit of their property.
“Oh, this is beautiful,” agreed Ian and even Rocco seemed impressed. “You could fit a slipper chair right here,” he offered, “A real lady’s chair – they’re selling one down at the church. Do you like purple?”
Scarlet did – especially the chintz pansy print in which that chair was covered. There were other items at the church sale that she coveted – gorgeous copper pieces to cheer the many fireplaces. When the tower room was finished with the addition of a purple rug carried up by Ian himself it seemed a magnificent eyrie and retreat. Not just deep poetry but magnificent plays – possibly even novels – could be written here.
“It’ll be cold,” warned Ian, and that was probably true. But “heat rises” said Scarlet and surely it must. And then she wrote a poem about it – one she could actually share.
Heat rises From our marriage bed Powers up this house Summons up a cradle, fills the Varicolored jars of Seasoned fruit Museums of ripeness Captured – just As we – Fresh from the city were Caught and Prisoned. Belonging – Attempting to foreclose A Future.
Of course there marriage bed was a decidedly less sexy place so long as Scarlet was a pregnant whale. And, It didn’t end right. She knew that, before Ian pointed it out. “You can’t say “prisoned”; he quibbled. “Surely “reveling’s” the word? Isn’t “future” just “the unforeseen”? Scarlet was annoyed – he usually right more than he was wrong, but he was still wrong about many central things. He always accused her of easy sentimentality and so she’d tried for a more evocative, ambiguous even threatening ending –the way Ian ended his own work, yet he still he wasn’t satisfied.
She looked up “sentimental” in the dictionary and saw it described as “an appeal to tender feelings.” It couldn’t be that all “tender feelings” were inherently degrading, could it? But in England, they seemed to be! Scarlet and Ian had a child to raise.
Scarlet wondered if it was even possible to satisfy these fussy men, determinedly hardening in their defenses. Ian was always talking about “toughening up” males – usually while wearing the latest fashion in gents’ bespoke suits – so that said males could “slay the dragon” as if modern educated people were still cave-dwellers. She took another look at her poem and decided “attempting to foreclose a future” was her favorite line.
“Submit it to The Renegade,” suggested Ian, “I’ll write Nigel if you like.”
She prayed she wouldn’t need his help. She wrote to Nigel herself.
She felt a gush of relief at the first sight of what was to be her new home. Perhaps she could participate in Ian’s fantasy after all. This gate, massive and rusty, had fallen back against its stone surround and was an open invitation to a fairy tale. She saw something she knew Ian could never have resisted: this twisted iron was surmounted by a pair of stone wyverns. Ian had always claimed the wyvern as his “power creature”. Anything for sale in the town of Wyvern-on-Wye would be of interest to Ian. Was the town named after the house or the other way around?
Whichever was true, she knew he’d claim the whole town as his by right. When she gasped out loud at the sight of their new castle Ian rippled with the same lordly pleasure he demonstrated on skillfully dispensing an orgasm. There it was, at the end of a curving drive, Wyvern House, miniature alcazar toppling on its hill, as if the earth itself would sink beneath its weight.
“My goodness,” she muttered, thinking, as she knew he did, how impressed future guests would be, especially if they could clear away the brambles, re-paint the gates and set the slipping wyverns more solidly, less threateningly aloft.
Up close, the “castle” proved considerably less commanding, revealing unpointed brick, mucky stucco, bleeding windows and muddy drive. Over the double front doors was carved a date which threw it completely out of the running for any claim to aristocracy: “1892: Magnus Bronfen”.
“Soap manufacturer,” said Ian. “All soap manufacturers dream of castles, apparently. How else could you get a castle and six acres for nine thousand pounds?”
She shuddered at the sum. Neither his family nor hers had ever seen so much money. In their five years together they had barely cleared a thousand pounds, and owed more than that. If she succumbed to this place what time would be left for working out her complex themes of literature? She had seen nothing encouraging, so far, about the financial viability of her productions in general.
Ian himself was not doing much better with his proposal for a “modern mythology” TV series. They would be thrown back on Ian’s first idea: using his supernatural “imp” to win a football pool. Or her secret, most private fancy; writing an explosive novel that told the truth about women’s experience. The one time she had mentioned it Ian had been very clear that he considered “women’s fiction” a literary disgrace.
“Plus, the novel’s dead. Plays are the thing, Angry Young Men and all that. Look! There is a garden. You could start a market garden. I’ve heard these roses were famed far and wide.”
What had she ever done to make him think she longed to garden? But “rosarian” certainly was a better title than “hausfrau.” Much better. At this time of year, the overgrown garden offered nothing to see, but it was walled; the walls covered with the same brambly vines that were eating up the gate. They should be replaced with, say, espaliered fruit trees. By somebody. Someday.
To her relief, inside she saw an ordinary house without the unlivable discomforts of an actual castle. The front hall was rather splendid with a huge creaky oak staircase that shed sawdust (deathwatch beetle!) when walked upon but the large rooms were blessed with electric light and there were four generous bathrooms: three second floor and one down.
“I don’t think they spent a penny on the place after building it,” said Scarlet.
“I’m sure they didn’t,” Ian agreed. “This Magnus guy died almost immediately. The current heir lives in town – I don’t think he has a sou but what I gave him. He says the place has been for sale – slowly dropping in price — his entire life.”
It always impressed Ian to consult a “magic moment”. He was beginning to think he was a magic moment, himself. A fatalistic man, with a strong sense of “destiny”, he’d carefully consulted his horoscope before marrying Scarlet. The stars, and a general English misapprehension that all Americans were rich, had pushed him over the edge.
“He only has what the bank gave him,” Scarlet longed to correct, but didn’t. Their marriage was the envy of their friends because neither of them – ever gave in to cracks like that. Ian had repeatedly stated his opinion that “money” was an imaginary concept anyway, created in the modern world by mere promises to buy and sell. Failing to leap aboard the mad carousel, you made certain of being left behind.
Sixty-six years without improvements or upkeep should certainly give any buyer pause, thought Scarlet. What Horrible Secret – probably more than one – was this house hiding? Drains? Vermin? As if reading her thoughts – which he probably was, because marriage made a person good at that — Ian continued,
“Apparently the problem is the railways – having to change trains from London only to arrive in the middle of nowhere with eight miles to go. But now that everyone has a car that will change. By road, the distance from London is two hours, tops.”
No one in their London group really “owned” a car, but everyone aspired to, so why point out that the drive had taken them three hours? Ian would only say it as because his pregnant wife needed to pee every five minutes and maybe it had been. Ian had acquired the station wagon (third-hand) because he’d acquired the house, launching them to the summit of their particular clique. As they walked from room to room Scarlet felt herself warming to this unlikely residence – it certainly had potential – and feeling a lot more forgiving towards her improvident spouse.
The rooms were big, well laid out, and the mullioned windows vast and wonderful. There was even a room of empty bookcases clearly meant to be a library – what more could writers ever require? The dining room was a bit dark but the scullery was enormous. “If we updated the appliances we could eat in here,” said Scarlet. “It would be cozy.”
Ian made a moue of disagreement. “Why neglect such a magnificent dining room? I mean, we’ve got one, why waste it?”
“Keep it for special occasions,” Scarlet murmured. Most of the time it would be just the two of them and a baby, because they’d never be able to afford live-in help. Anyway, what couple ever benefited from intrusion on their togetherness? “Pas devant les domestiques” was the English byword.
Three large rooms beside a dining room, scullery and butler’s pantry Scarlet counted, then upstairs were six bedrooms laid out rather unimaginatively around a poorly lit central hall with bathrooms connecting between them. Scarlet suggested they each take for a study the smaller bedrooms. But Ian claimed the library.
“Those are kids’ rooms, don’t you think?” he disparaged.
Scarlet felt a thrill that he even contemplated extra children. He hadn’t seemed the least excited about her pregnancy until his flicker of interest when the doula suggested it might be a boy. She was too well-trained to argue. “If you prefer,” she agreed. “Why don’t you take the library for your office and I’ll take the odd bedroom. For now.” She was determined to have the baby with them in their bedroom for starters, requiring her do up just one guest room. Seemed a good way to keep out an overage of guests.
There was no attic whatsoever and the stairs to the tower were barred with a handwritten “Danger” sign.
“I haven’t been up there,” Ian told her. “Pomeroy the Heir pronounced the stairs unsafe. I think we must assume the whole Tower is a disaster area. He suggested just cutting them out altogether, getting rid of that weak flooring and making it sort of a skylight where you can look up.” Trust a man to come up with such an idiotic idea.
“I’ll investigate spiral metal stairs,” said Scarlet. “They come in modular one piece units and I know where we can get one cheap.”
Ian snorted, “The more fools they, then, lowering the price just because their Tower was a fake.”
Since they couldn’t go up, they went down, down to the “undercroft”, as Ian called it, not a “basement” but a magnificently warm, low-ceilinged room with winking-eye lights to the outdoors, shelves of bottled fruit, an empty wine rack and a huge furnace. Purring away. The furnace clearly was newer than 1892 – and if that was the case, the situation might not be as desperate as Ian had painted it.
“I wonder if any of that fruit is still good,” said Ian.
Scarlet’s spirits lightened. She felt a poem coming on.
Ian told Scarlet he bought the house as a gift. It was an apology for their cramped city quarters, compensation for Scarlet falling so heavily pregnant with their son. He, universally considered the ultimate bachelor, gave majestic permission for his wife to begin the nest-building and home-making he knew she had thirsted for ever since their hasty marriage. But as she sat beside him while he drove through the desolate winter countryside, she felt nothing but dread: how could he buy a house – reputedly for “her” – without her actual assistance? “Auction” was the answer.
“Truth” presented by Ian seemed always subtly different from Scarlet’s apprehension of actuality, but in Scarlet’s youthfully cynical experience men never told the truth to women. It would be just like Ian to have purchased a ruin for the name alone. He was impulsive – act first, rationalize after – but he never thanked Scarlet for pointing it out. Women were supposed to be the impulsive, hysterical, emotional creatures, men were calm, rational, learned. Period. Scarlet had discovered there was even less room in England than in America for the sexes to locate the androgyny Virginia Woolf had so recently recommended.
What was her fear, exactly? She felt for it nervously as if exploring a bad tooth. Would they be in hock to the moneylenders till kingdom come? The “big money” Ian assured her was right around the corner had yet to arrive, but he confidently continued to expect it. She wished Ian could see that auctions engineered participants into foolish decisions, but Ian considered himself above foolish decisions. In the early months of marriage, Scarlet had earned to pick her battles. Husbands didn’t welcome any overt attempts to “change” them.
Unsaid between them, probably unremembered by him, was an episode early in their marriage where she’d suggested, “That will never work” to one of his passing fancies and he’d grabbed her by the throat. Made her shudder to think about it now. Clearly she should not think about it. Fetuses might be negatively affected by thoughts like those.
After he’d cooled down – and apologized – she’d tried to get him to acknowledge that such behavior should never happen; his response was, “You shouldn’t taunt me.” So the blame was subtly – or unsubtly – placed on her. She was left with the unpleasant sensation that he’d somehow reserved the “right” to lose control – a right denied to her – but at least it had never happened again.
Hadn’t he married her a brief three months after their first meeting, just to stop her returning to America? She’d been dazzled by his beauty, his gorgeous male power, glittering intelligence, tall wide-shouldered body, and those long-lashed blue eyes fixed so deliciously upon her. All Oxford considered him the matrimonial catch of the year – you could certainly claim she personally had benefited enormously from his hasty decision making. Everyone she met envied her; there was no one to whom could she confide marital difficulties.
Not even to the very close sister, her “best friend”, who considered marriage “surrender” and who had refused to attend the wedding. All acquaintances so far collected in England were Ian’s eager slaves. There were certainly trade-offs, in the business parlance of the day. Men might be demanding, self-involved, autocratic, but didn’t that make them better in bed? Wasn’t that the real reason Scarlet had married him, the secret she dared not confess but everyone suspected, that he had overwhelmed her with a display of sexual seduction just the memory of which raised every hair on her body to antennae? Now that she was nine and a half months pregnant it regrettably seemed as if she would never be svelte, or young, or even whole – again.
That was not all that had changed. She didn’t like it when she overheard him describing her as a “born hausfrau” – was there an uglier word in ANY language? She felt misrepresented, as if he deliberately missed the evidence of her true nature and the meaning of her entire existence. Wasn’t such blindness a crime against love? Yet what had he “done”, besides purchase a castle for her? At the apex of pregnancy – you could also call it the nadir – she was willing to admit that possibly she misrepresented HIM.
They needed a fresh start. But with a baby expected, wasn’t that the pattern of couples everywhere? She couldn’t silence her inner critic. She felt emotionally repelled by all the bluster he deemed necessary to “get ahead”. Maybe she didn’t like the concept of “getting ahead,” especially considering he was so disparaging of America’s “crass commercialism.”
And what was that about, his peculiar reliance on the occult? It was almost a religion with him. He made a game of consulting his “imp” through Tarot cards – a funny party trick morphing into a disturbingly dissociative responsibility dodge. When she suggested as tactfully as she could that perhaps they should not expose a growing child to superstition he “doubled down” with outlandish “universal mythologies” of magic, nemesis, false birth and disguise. Jung, even Freud, was on his side. She had no one.
He had convinced himself his parents were no relation; he translated his envy of the aristocracy into an unshakeable conviction that he belonged rightfully among them. The democratic American in Scarlet tried to show him the pride in becoming truly “free” and his own person, but the lure of imposture seemed too strong.
Thank goodness for her diary – there was nowhere else to confide her unsettling thoughts. She disguised her journal as a “baby book” – a document she could feel certain he would never read. Her totally inadequate London doctor – whom she would be happy never to see again – had assured her that pregnant women were all prey to “nonsense fears” and she would feel completely different following delivery. Scarlet was hopeful that deep in the country – perhaps with a midwife – she could secure more enlightened care.
So she sat beside him on the way to view this new acquisition. And smiled.
Mike & Lorraine Inzar killed in small plane accident Mom & Dad call to say. This makes Dad majority stockholder (Mike’s stock divided among 5 kids.) Painful thoughts. Lorraine so young! One of her daughters with them too! (Mike was the pilot.) Mom says salutary reminder how easily we can all be “snuffed out.” If I died now how awful!!! Dad wants to go look at Bennington airfield trying to find ANYTHING but pilot error – what could have happened?
Try to make each day an entity in itself. Yesterday a good day reading V Woolf letters. Can read these again & again. Neither she nor Vita could truly appreciate themselves. But I appreciate them. Boiled diary into 5 pages for Yuna. I think we can call this a completely unsuccessful breast-beating exercise. Took dogs walking in park with T, bratwurst for dinner, fantastic lovemaking, sleep. Typical day.
2 Dec 79 Maddening depression. My precarious identity under permanent assault, only the cycle of achievement to carry me through. Bride rejected no note of any kind. Devastating. Thought I’d get some direction at least.
Wrote 2 poems on Rossetti family – sent 40 poems out, wrote 15 family letters.Maybe I should hide my feelings from T. His suggestion I write magazine articles throws me into blacker depression because I would have to:
1) Learn how to write magazine article 2) experiment with same 3) forge relationships!!!
CRAZY time consuming plus new ways to fail!! Novels are BOILING inside me – can’t get over that THIS IS MY DREAM LIFE – writing full time at home while husband busy with important job. But part-time newspapering pays horribly and he looks forward to law job after graduation. So our timing is off. Let’s hope not FATALLY.
Thurs. 6 Dec 79 T compliments me on being “so female” (“in the Jungian sense”). He’s beautiful & supportive – he liked my Rossetti poems a lot. Feeling better carefully following my program; hoping I can be the person I want, follow the life I want.
11:15 PM Thurs 6 Dec 79 Everything looking up except this diary. Lavallee LIKES Bride and thinks we can sell it. Studying the lives of Saints makes me feel better, so I’m enjoying assembling a calendar of poems called The Spire. Does nothing for my career but provides relief. What if I learned how to pray? Assembling a Christmas wardrobe.
T. annoyed when I trimmed my public hair! Since he goes down like Jacques Cousteau I should listen. Buying Sutton’s wife Val a sweater for Christmas from Brooks Brothers gives me & T a chance to rationally discuss our differing styles. He accedes to the more imaginative choice.
11 Dec 79 Finished Life of Raymond Chandler. Reading about Ottoline Morrell and Katherine Mansfield. Disgusted with poetry and taking a vacation. Bought T. the prettiest Pierre Cardin diamond cufflinks.
5:30 PM 13 Dec 79 –Thurs A good day in spite of a weird pain between my breasts. Tension? Seems better when I move round so not incipient heart attack. Diet?
Reading Lady Sackville & drinking tea. Phone call from beloved after his Commercial Paper exam. Getting a haircut then home in ½ hr. Mom called to apologize very nicely for sounding “disrespectful” about my work by dismissing it as “ghoulish” and “morbid.”
We had a nice talk.
Finished Xmas cards today – 172 cards! T & I had beautiful long talk last night of course followed by spectacular lovemaking. Confiding fears for our relationship. T doesn’t see how this relationship can last when everyone else’s falls off the cliff. I said I worry about hardening myself against him because it’s so difficult to be so open. Out shopping today got a flat tire changed by the grocery store employees! Free! Would that happen in the Northeast? Certainly not in DC. Very little sleep last night because of T’s studying – but I didn’t want him to leave the bed. It’s getting dark now – beautiful light over St John’s church. Submitting altered version of The Spire (leaving out sex poems.)
11:45 AM – Sun 16 Dec 79 In 15 mins my angel will have been at work for six hours. That’s more than a half day! When he gets here he still has his packing to do. He asked me what about spending summer in Princeton then back here for a year? He knows he can get a job here – his friends have been working on him. I said I’d hate it. Want to get established somewhere before I get pregnant. I have a far better chance of getting a job there than here. He walked in – greeting noises from dogs!
StormFall Farm – Wed Dec 19 – 79 Unalloyed pleasure! Sitting at my desk in winter living room (table pushed up to window.) It’s been snowing since we woke up at 10. I saw my new house – where his mother grew up in Grovers’ Mill NJ – very low ceilinged antique farmhouse full of original furniture. Too outdated to rent but fine with me – a whole house of our own! We could have two kids there without being overcrowded! It has some unpleasant dark curtains we could just get rid of. T’s grandmother just went into nursing home for the second time. Looks like this is the last time.
The only problem is it has no laundry room – perhaps adapt upstairs closet? (Very tiny closets too.) Trish & Noah (cousins) & Toss have gone to town – I will walk dogs and then be ALONE.
Gloriously ALONE. Very close to becoming complete recluse. Just finished N Mitford’s Voltaire in Love. T enormously enjoying Perry Mason whom I read aloud on our long drives.
Train from NYC 1:40 PM 27 Dec 79 – Alarms & Diversions – T & I have just had 2 very intense fights. Guess I didn’t realize the anger than was building up in me. His mother is just so RUDE – I cried in front of her last night for a solid hour feeling sheer helplessness! She is so awful! After she left we managed to come together much chastened. Yesterday we went into New York City to see costumes at the Met – got in an epic traffic jam outside Tiffany’s and could see we weren’t going to make it – got out of the cab and T bought me a ring! Eternity band of diamonds – very sweet. They say if a diamond ever falls out they replace it!
Celebrated at Sherry Netherland with manhattans and duck pate in lingonberry sauce. Wrote four poems but too exhausted to know if they’re good.
12:30 AM – Wed 9 Jan 80 Battling with Byatt’s Virgin In the Garden. This woman asserts a Proustian compass but overwrites dreadfully. T due in ½ hr – at library studying as usual. We had a lovely dinner before he left – spinach soufflé, salad and wine. Took dogs for very pleasant walk.
T says he loves me so much more every day he can scarcely comprehend it. He was so upset when I said I might not take his name – it was only because he’d been flippant about a previous girlfriend. We are both so sore. Trying to stay open and honest as the emotions blast through.
In the bar we argue You drink gin and I drink bourbon You admit there’s something out there but God and Christ have been discredited You prefer the snake-faced aliens.
Can pedagogues discredit learning I demand -Do rapists disgrace sex? Outside the blank-faced soldiers Breathing on the glass of history Await their time.
They are glad to lend their bones As lumber. They’re afraid to live. Rebel children seize the city Experimenting on the damned. We’re trapped inside the hourglass
Moving not in circles but in spirals – Moving somewhere. You order a stronger round I look inside my wallet To see what’s left.
Seafronts.
Coastal Rd, Morecambe, Lancashire.
Venus and Cupid sculpture by Shane Johnstone (2005).
Seated mother swinging child with Morecambe Bay and Cumbrian hills beyond.
THE WITNESS
You say you love me for myself but I killed that bitch out of jealousy Now as sole survivor I’m the only clue. She was the confidential client I left to clean up after.
In the furnace of morning I lie Between darkness and wolfcall Charges taunting me like unborn children: Ask him to marry you, mommy! Ask him! Ask him!
Football Field bleachers. (Victor doing what looks like an Indian rain dance – he is beside himself with glee. Enter Emily)
Emily What are you so happy about?
Victor I’m the man! I’m the king!
(Emily stares at him sardonically, arms akimbo)
Emily So, spill – Found somebody’s Credit card under the bleachers?
Victor NO. I’m an Unstoppable Force – I’m a MOVER. I’m the One! Others are just talk – I make things happen! I stir the pot, the pot Bubbles. Stick with me sweetlips And you’ll see the world.
Emily
(Accusingly)
What did you do now?
Victor I showed Oscar His honey’s a whore!
(Wild victory dance)
Emily Darla? You mean her pictures? Her pictures were Wonderful! That girl’s a Goddess. I don’t get you guys! Always demanding We get sexual then Using that to disgrace us!
Victor Don’t act innocent around me, Honey. I know what you did. And Oscar BOUGHT IT!! Guy went Crazy!
(Wild boogie break dancing)
Emily Why you gotta Hate, Victor? Why ruin everyone And everything? That poor fool! If he didn’t want nudies He’s the first guy I’ve heard of. How come he Believed you over Darla? Darla LOVES him. No one’s that stupid.
Victor
(Playing with her hair)
Don’t you pay attention In history class? The bigger the lie The more people believe it. ‘Cause It’s about NIGHTMARES, Baby, we’re controlled by our Nightmares! Everyone’s got ‘em. Play into the NIGHTMARES And people believe.
(he makes his abracadabra gestures in front of her face – she pushes his hands away)
Emily But I thought he loved her! Doesn’t that idiot know How lucky he is?
Victor Love! What’s that even mean?
Emily But why’d he Believe YOU. You’re not his friend.
(Victor shakes the phone at her)
Victor Good one, Emily! You’ve been SUCH a good girl.A guy’s girl – FOR ONCE.
Emily I sent it only to You and to Oscar!
Victor Don’t you know brothers share? It’s a sharing economy: Bros hang together.
Emily It’s a BEGGAR economy A world of extortion and Protection where Everyone owes you.
Victor
(money hand gesture)
Gotta give some to get some.
Emily You men are HOPELESS. None of you deserves To get fucked EVER Again!
Victor Oh, somebody’s Getting’ fucked here and It ain’t gonna be me!
Emily It certainly won’t! And what is THAT all about? Why is the worst Thing you can insult somebody with is “SEXUAL INTERCOURSE!”? Why make it so bad? You’re always telling us to GROW UP Face desire Then we do and it turns out Our partners are BABIES! Baby extortionists!
Victor Oh get over yourself.
(Sniggering)
Let passion rule Idiots – while the Movers & Shakers sit pretty! We’re having Too much fun.
Emily I can’t figure out Why we play with You toddlers.
Victor Hormones, I’m guessin’. We’re the only game in town.
(Emily pulls out her own phone, clicks, smiles ruefully, shakes her head)
Emily Look at her there – She’s so sweet Such an angel. She’s Manet’s Olympia Goya’s Naked Maja – Look at her – She’s so happy. She’s so trustful in love Thinking Life’s About to begin. Don’t you know Beauty when you see it? Lift your head Out of the gutter! But you snoozed during art class You don’t want to wake up.
Victor Art class is for PUSSIES!
(spits)
Here’s REAL art for you!
(Showing her his film)
Emily Oh Victor YOU DIDN’T.
Victor Oscar made Darla bleed. Oscar made her come! She’s no goddess after all. Did she tell you What his cock’s like? Spics are hung like donkeys – They gotta be – Squirtin’ over the fence Spreadin’ their seed!
Emily You’re disgusting!
Victor
(Very calm and in charge)
I’m SUCCESSFUL. I’m EFFECTIVE. Oscar fights with Darla Coach sees our movie Coach says BYE BYE We own the school.
Emily You said you wouldn’t Hurt people!
Victor Haven’t YOU Done things you said You’d never do?
Emily Why’s Oscar blame Darla?
Victor “Cause he sees she’s a whore. Like every other slutty Fallen girl.
Emily Like ME you mean? Is that what you mean?
Victor Men rule Girls drool Who’s the fool?
Emily
(She turns away from him)
You’ve got a point there. You showed Oscar your movie?
Victor
(Gleeful excitement)
Oscar went ripshit! He Threatened to KILL her!
Emily Over some PICTURES?
Victor
(Acts all innocent, toeing the dust)
I did mention he might be wrong About her virginity.
Emily Victor! You are a Rabblerouser! Darla Was incontestably One hundred percent virgin! You know it and I know it!
Victor
(slyly)
Well, she ain’t no more. So Nobody proves nothin’. Girls go under the knife Get changed all the time.
(She pushes him away from her in disgust)
Emily And it doesn’t even matter! It’s all stupid anyway!
Victor It DOES matter! No man wants to Honor a SLUT.
Emily You guys are the sluts! Why demand trust when We can’t ever trust you? Don’t you get it? GAME OVER, I’m telling you. Game over!
Victor
(Very superior)
Men CAN’T be sluts Sweetheart. It’s not in the rulebook. Everyone knows. You just Ask around.
Emily You are PITIFUL. I am so done with this place. You think Oscar might Hurt Darla?
Victor
(Excited)
Oh, Oscar went off. He was Waving a KNIFE.
(Making crazy face then seeing her expression, excuses)
Hey, it’s not MY fault.
Emily It totally is!
Victor It’s not my fault In any court of law! Now WHO’S the one snoozing Through civics and Dare. I didn’t say Kill the bitch! That’s all HIS idea. My conscience is CLEAR. And by the way, sister You’re in this To your eyebrows.
Victor works Emily, his off-again, on-again girlfriend
(Oscar stalks offstage. Victor minces behind him, Rocky vaults over bleachers)
Rocky You’re off course, Victor! Throwin’ shade on Darla!
Victor Hey, bro we discussed this! You want to fend off intruders Or hug them hello? Martial arts says Use their own weight AGAINST THEM Let them knock THEMSELVES down. Achilles had a heel, my Rocky You should know from school history And Oscar’s heel looks like DARLA!!! So let’s bring him to heel. You gotta use bluster! My gift of gab fathers brainworms No soldier can shake! It’s Strategy, man! “Cringe theory!” Makin’ war with their heads! Cringe theory’s my superpower.
Rocky Not if people get hurt!
Victor Quit your puss-ups, My brutha! And don’t be pathetic. It’s toughen or die In this world, little Rocky Gotta go for the prizes The treasures of paradise Don’t fall in your lap. We gotta fight for them – Smarter and better – sink foes in Stupidity – till their filth Swallows them whole and Leaves the field empty. Empty for US.
Rocky Coach says you’re just Cynical: using your brain To avoid all the Sweat and sore muscles.
Victor And what’s wrong with that? Don’t see them bankers out Laboring Stop being a cunt, Rocky. If I prove what I say, are You with me, or not?
Rocky You can’t prove Darla’s A nympho! I know that much For certain.
Victor Won’t YOU be surprised. Can’t trust ME, trust Your own eyes. I can prove anything On anyone – prove Darla’s a nympho and Oscar’s an idiot.He’ll be publicly scorned and Thrown off the team. Do you dare me?
Rocky I dare you. But Don’t let it sink you.
Victor Nothing sinks me – I’m Unsinkable – The only guy here Who’s in charge of himself. Coach did me a favor Kicking me off the team. Now I see the world Truthfully. Let my game play out.
Rocky I’m more confused By your solutions Than even my problems!
(His phone chimes)
Catch your act later Victor – I’m late For detention.
Victor
(To audience)
All these poor boneheads Still “going to school”. This place is a backwater For ignorant jerkwads.
(plays with his phone)
Victor Well I know one person Still comes when I call.
(Emily appears, highly disgruntled, shaking her phone)
Emily What fresh hell is this? Are you crazy?
Victor
(affectionate and conciliatory)
Great to see you too Baby, give Papa a kiss.
(She pushes him away)
Emily I am NOT getting you Sex pics of Darla!
Victor Level the playing field Sugar, you’ve got to just Face it! Darla Thinking she’s special Is harshing your style. She’s slut-shaming you.
Emily
(Despite her best intentions this is getting to her)
She is NOT. We’re Best friends 4-EVA.
Victor
(Deep significance – flashes his phone)
What would she say If she saw THESE? Think she’d be disgusted? Think she’d talk you down?
Emily Stop it! That’s not fair! I was playing a part!
(tearful)
I was only a kid!
Victor Prudes And their body issues – So…what’s wrong with HER body?
Emily Nothing wrong with Darla’s body! You know she’s just shy.
Victor She’s a prude!
Emily She’s got standards.
Victor Hey, I ain’t asking For porno! Nude ladies be art!
(Considers)
Not that pornos are bad. I mean if Darla wanted – You never know what’s lurking Behind Darla’s green door.
Emily Darla has no Green door!
Victor Just one nudie pic – please? And I’ll destroy all of these.
(She snatches for his phone – he holds it just out of reach)
Emily You already SAID you destroyed them!
Victor But honey – they’re So beautiful! So precious To my heart.
Emily Not that one with The blindfold.
Victor Oh, quit your drama! Be glad they ain’t posted.
Emily You sent them to ME! They’ll be somewhere FOREVER.
Victor Grow up “Miss Emily”. Allow Poor space aliens to Get off on your booty!
Emily I NEVER SAID YES. I was asleep for The first ones!
Victor Didn’t you give me your body? You know you did Sugar. Who “Consent” breaks the mood. I’m “equal opportunity –“ sugah – Don’t I send you dic pics?
Emily It’s not even YOUR dick!
Victor Some of them are!
Emily Face it, Victor. Some girls just don’t Want to be filmed.
Victor Don’t you believe it, sister Every chick’s got a Mayadere hiding in her Someplace. Don’t you owe it to history To immortalize This gorgeousness?
(he plays with her hair)
Emily First time I’ve Heard THAT argument. You said I was so “Inadequate” I ought To get implants.
Victor Only if you Want them. I know you Emily. You’re all About Art. “Cinema verité.”
(air quotes)
Making it real and KEEPING it real.
Emily Can’t believe You were listening.
Victor I’ve heard everything You’ve ever said. You talk in your sleep.
Emily Uh oh. Just giving you More ammo.
Victor Let’s say your Outward persona Don’t recognize your Inner child. But You’re safe with me.
Emily If only.
Victor Don’t act so Unwilling. Isn’t “Cinema verité“ about Tagging the unwary? Just shop your moniker!
Emily Fun as this is to Talk about art I’m not creating sex pics Of Darla for your hounds’ Delectation.
Victor Oh, give the dogs SOMETHING. How about pillow fights? Two Naked girls and a whole World of feathers. Now That’s artistic! Or you play With her boobies – I’m sayin – It could Put you through college.
(Emily facepalms in rage and despair, Victor puts arms around her)
Victor
oh honey, if only you saw How beautiful you are. Lucky me! You will never be as gorgeous as You are right this minute.
(Kissing and nuzzling. Emily starts to give in. He nibbles her ear.)
Victor You know we’ve got To get rid of him.
Emily
(Pulling away)
Who? Oscar?
Victor Yes, Oscar. Everything bad ever Started with Oscar.
Emily Leave Oscar alone! Stop trying To get even. And stop Hanging out with mofos like Rocky! He’s got shit for brains!
Victor Rocky’s good people.
Emily I know Rocky’s behind this He just wants revenge porn Because Darla dumped him.
Victor So what? I got Rocky’s back. Maybe Rocky’s just human.
Emily Listen – My gramma says The best revenge Is getting into the college Of your choice.
Victor
(sighs dramatically)
Sugar, Rocky NEEDS this. And He’s too proud to ask.
Emily But Darla’s my FRIEND!
Victor Why you so protective? Think she’s better than you?
Emily Girls got to stay loyal.
Victor You’ve got HER back but What’s SHE done for you? She’s making you look bad.
Emily You guys so stuck on “status” Passing chicks like Sports cards – you Don’t KNOW from friendship. You Don’t understand.
Victor You’re not fooling me Sugar. Remember I’m your Daddy and You talk in your sleep. I know you better than You know yourself. You’re A secret resenter ‘Cause Darla’s got EVERYTHING while You got a broke-ass kid’s bed In the basement of Your grandparents’ house?
Emily Don’t you go draggin’ my Grandfolks! They’ve been So good to me.
Victor
(Smooth change of tack)
Some friend YOU are Standing by while your bestie While she gets herself inseminated With terrorist anchor babies!
Emily
(Disturbed but trying to stay cool)
Who’s drama now?
Victor Them kind don’t Use rubbers. Trust me, my Poptart ‘cause I know the world. They’re all bareback and Rough riding – that’s what they like. Look at the size of him – poor Darla’s got no chance – He wants something He TAKES it! They think Rape is foreplay.
Emily You’re disgusting!
Victor I’m makin’ it real and Keepin’ it real which you PRETEND that you value. Who tells truth If you don’t get it from me? If Darla got pregnant – you know What she’d do.
Emily
(Sighs)
She’d have that damn baby Darla’s a sticker. DAMN – That girl is old school.
Victor So – now you’ve got the chance to Nip this in the bud! That’s what REAL friends would do. Show her Oscar’s true colors!
Emily
(wavering)
How can nudies fix anything?
Victor ‘Cause Oscar will dump her! And Coach will dump HIM!
Emily You’re not helping your “Nudes are art” theory With this “pics are Hand grenades” plot. Make up your mind!
Victor It’s Oscar’s mind I’m Playing with. That guy’s A caveman! You know How they are. Here’s Your chance to expose him!
Emily You’re talking crazy.
Victor Hey, I’ll contain all the Damage. Where are YOUR Nudie pix? Safe and sound!
(pats his phone)
See? You know you can trust me! You know Daddy’s good for it!
Emily But you’re so Conniving – playing Both sides to middle.
Victor Oh, be a guy’s girl for once Like you. claimed To be when You promised yourself to me. Don’t go all Girlie-girl.
(makes what he thinks is a mincing gesture)
Emily This is the whole problem With high school monogamy! We’re such different people In four short years!
Victor
(Offended)
Well, I ain’t no Ken doll.
Emily And I’m no Barbie!
Victor Truthfully – Ain’t it been wonderful How we stick together? You got all your friends’ envy.
Emily ‘Cause they don’t know the truth. They don’t see my Compromise.
(Victor pours on the sugar)
Victor It’s a cold world out there, baby. A girl needs protection.
Emily
(Exhausted)
Oh leave me alone. I can’t cope. You’re like A bulldozing Bloviator.
(Enter Oscar, big handsome Hispanic guy in football uniform)
Victor
(grabs Oscar’s hand, chest bumps)
Guess the best man won! Congratulations are in order!
Oscar Hey, wow! You’re a big fellow. I mean no disrespect –
(flustered because Victor’s NOT a “big fellow”)
No one likes gettin’ cut. You sure there’s No hard feelings?
Victor Won’t be Hard feelings When you win us State Champion!
Oscar Champions, man!
(They high five)
People here are so nice. My abuela was worried But now I’m In classes, got a Tutor, live in a Nice house with Coach. Even got me a girlfriend.
Victor
(loud phony whistle)
Got a girlfriend ALREADY?
Oscar Coach’s own daughter! He gave us his blessing. She’s wearing my ring.
Victor
(glances at Rocky peering thru bleachers)
Fancy footwork my friend!
Oscar
(faking Victor out, dodging around him)
It’s the speed and the moves That’s what I’m best at.
Victor Darla’s always been Prettiest. But…
(fakes sotto voce)
Word out she’s an Ice Maiden. Them Nymphos got reps.
Oscar I don’t know what you’re saying – She warmed up to me. What’s that name you called her?
Victor Darla? If it’s DARLA we’re talking about –
(trying not to laugh)
Darla needs new blood ‘cause She’s been through the school. Don’t know if I can congratulate You on landing THAT one.
Oscar
(Angry and suspicious)
We’re going to prom!
Victor You don’t need to believe ME, Buddy but Your Darla’s got skidmarks.
(Leans forward)
She needs management, my brutha. No dissing intended but Don’t let her get away Pretending she’s better.
Oscar Darla’s no nympho Darla’s a virgin!
Victor Sure, sure – they’re all “Immaculate” – spring back Like a rubber band The moment you touch her. They say the Virgin Mary had Babies – maybe that cross necklace Really DOES work.
Oscar
(Pulls a knife)
You’re just jealous. You’re all of you liars. I’m not Buying your blasphemous bullcrap. Haters get shaded and Players get played.
(fighting stance)
Victor
(Backing away)
Whoa, boy! Chill OUT! Don’t Kill the messenger! I’m here to HELP you!
Oscar I’m saying what’s true. Not suffering your crap. I can protect myself.
Victor I’m friending you, dude. You’re the new guy in town so They’re setting you up! “Coach’s daughter!” All Part of the strategy to Get you embroiled so you can’t Run away.
Oscar
(Sheathes the knife)
I wasn’t born Yesterday – I see what you’re after. You’re hot and bothered getting Kicked off the team.
Victor Do I look bothered to you? I’m a truth-teller, buddy That’s why I got sidelined They don’t want me to Warn you! I’m wise to their plays and I can’t go along! Bro solidarity – it’s Life blood to me.
(Beats chest)
Bros before hos. Not just in the barrio.
Oscar Call Darla names And you’re going DOWN. No matter what. Darla’s a nice girl.
Victor Who’d ask for belief Without offer of proof?
Oscar What “proof” could you have?
Victor Photography don’t lie. Today’s taste test My brutha.
Oscar Don’t “brutha” me You got nothing. I ain’t listening.
Victor But you’ll look at the evidence?
Oscar If there IS any evidence. I was so stupid! Thought I Left guys like you Behind in the barrio – Now I can see Flea rats are everywhere.
(His phone chimes)
Gotta go, man. Can’t miss my first study hall.
(Oscar stalks offstage. Victor minces behind him, Rocky vaults over bleachers)
Rocky You’re off course, Victor! Throwin’ shade on Darla!
Oscar: immigrant male teen, dark, tall, handsome, recently recruited to this new high school for his athletic gifts, trying to figure out this new world and his place within it
Emily: Victor’s girlfriend, Darla’s best friend
Darla: beautiful, intelligent teen girl, considered highly desirable but she considers herself one of the “good girls”
Rocky: “best friend & yes man”; resentful male teen: Darla’s ex
Act 1 – Scene 1: (Football field of an American high school. VICTOR, a handsome but height-challenged teenager, sits on the bleachers under klieg lights)
Victor (to audience)
The new guy!
(spits)
It’s always about the new guy! Oooo – he’s so special! Oooo – he’s so different – Let’s give him EVERYTHING! Let’s give him a room In the same house With the coach’s beautiful daughter!
(pacing)
I ask you – is that fair? How can THAT be fair! Me – who’s always been loyal – Cut from the team! No more loyalty – that’s for sure – That coach is a such a cunt – They’re all cunts! “You’re not a team player,” says Coach Higgins – “Won’t take direction.” Know what that’s code for? Means I’m smart! Means I’ve figured things OUT. Means I ask questions and Think for MYSELF.
You’d think schools would value INTELLIGENCE But they’re just preachin’ The same old religion – Looks, money, genetic
Mutations! Like Their darling Oscar!
Who’s Oscar? What’s Oscar? What hole did he crawl out of? He’s not one of us That’s for sure – Floated here In a box, Climbed over some wall. Paid a criminal “coyote” To circumvent those Laws they claim to love: Barely speaks English and Here they are Lining up To suck his dick.
Listen to them Congratulate each other:
(high affected voice)
“We offer sanctuary!” “Cause we’re practically ANGELS” – But only athletes With “gifts” they need Get that “special treatment”.
What’s this fuss all about? What’s this “gift” really about? He learned to RUN is all Dodging border cops Thumbing his nose at Everyone Who’s been here FOREVER. Saps! We’re only good enough to Pay his bills!
He’s got HEIGHT – The guy’s good looking but – And that’s ALL he’s got. That’s ALL he is – He’s a pet and pets are ANIMALS!
(spits venomously)
Oscar!
(Enter ROCKY, best friend and yes man, equally discouraged)
Rocky Hey, who’re you talking to?
Victor A guy craving Intelligence in this neck of the woods Has to talk to himself.
Rocky Yeah, he does!
(beat)
And what’s that guy say?
Victor It’s not FAIR Is what I’m saying; Coach falling over Oscar Just for his legs.
Rocky Has that guy got legs! He DOES have legs! Regular jackrabbit That guy.
Victor Why’s this immigrant So special they’re breakin’ the rules I wanna know. Since the law says we Gotta go to school We’re really hostages – And what do they teach us? What do they care about?
Football! Following ORDERS. How to win games FOR SOMEBODY ELSE. Get our blocks caved in For the old folks’ amusement.
Rocky Aw – you’re just sore you were cut Everyone’s sore. But Who doesn’t like football? Football’s FUN Sure beats math.
(Thinks)
And chemistry.
(Shudders)
Victor You’re cut too Poor bastard – We don’t measure up To their sudden “new” standards.
Rocky
(apologetically)
I oughta Work out more. Squad goals!
Victor Squad goals? Following orders is more like it Give them your Brain for a plaything. You gotta MOVE ON man! I’ve moved on. Get with the program.
Rocky
(headscratching)
Whose program? Quarterbacks are heroes, man.
Victor Just a genetic mutation Centuries of selective breeding We should be ON TOP of this Not bottoming the heap!
Rocky Buddies RELY You’re the one who says that. We “Gotta play position” Like it or not.
(Shrug)
Victor Might as well Buy yourself a box, friend YOU’RE GONNA GET BURIED.
Rocky Nobody dies footballin’.
Victor But they die IN THE ARMY – And that’s where you’re goin’ Suckah – with their Squad goals in your head! Cannon fodder! That’s what the THINKERS say – Marching without questions Buys a hole in the ground!
Rocky But football –
Victor Forget football! See the BIG game. Football isn’t the universe, man. Look at Congress, look at Wall Street! What do you see?
Rocky Butt-ugly old men.
Victor Yeah, they are! Some poor fool be taking Their orders – where to jump and when! They’re laughing their Asses off all the way To the bank. They’re Partyin’ on YOUR time YOUR money, your LIFE My poor friend.
Rocky But I got nothin’! I had a girlfriend Had a place on the team Now I got nothin’!
Victor
(Taps his head)
All wealth is up here. It’s STRATEGY, man – we gotta learn GAME THEORY. Not football. I tell you, Man, they’re making us dumber! Just look all around you!
Rocky Seeing… what?
Victor Smart people like us – have got to Learn to teach themselves While some idiots Run around a field and other idiots Applaud. Listen to me. I’m the only one Keepin’ it real.
Rocky You’re the onlySmart guy at this school, Victor.
Victor
(Gratified)
That’s what I’m talking about! Getting dumped’s a mark of honor from Assholes like those.
Rocky
(Sadly)
Ya think? I was coming To ask you – What to do about Darla. You should have seen Her face when she –
(overwhelmed by anguished memory)
Victor Her face when she dumped you? Don’t cringe, bro! I’ve seen Darla’s face. Girl’s face Is her fortune.
Rocky Her face when she saw Oscar. That girl was drooling She’s never looked at me Anything like that.
Victor Girls be dramatic! Don’t take it serious!
Rocky But they live’ in the same house – You know Coach turns a blind eye No bro can fight that.
Victor Cut yourself free of that drama – And you stay lucky, my buddy. She did you a solid. We need to be Pullin’ them bitches, not Getting Cuffed. Stay wary, my brother. And Remember – all Chicks are alike.
Rocky There’s no chick Like Darla! She could be A supermodel. Her body! Coke bottle hips –
(shapes the air with his hands)
Victor
(Giving himself boobs)
And Playmate level Titties!
(they high five)
Free the Nipple! Not that you’ve SEEN them.
Rocky Oh brother – Hells yes I HAVE. Not talking side boob – Not bragging top boob – I’m sayin’ I kissed them and Seen the whole thing. Nips so – Pale – Pale as
(Gropes for metaphor)
Musclemilk. Not dark like porn queens but Pale – like a just-born baby.
(Deflates)
Victor I don’t believe you.
Rocky You don’t BELIEVE me? Callin’ me a liar?
Victor Then where’s your trophy?
(camera snap gesture)
No bares without shares.
Rocky No such luck.
Victor Why the heck not? You forget about Squad goals?
(threatening)
It’s your name On the line.
Rocky Hey – It was low light.
Victor Your phone got no Flashlight?
(Makes a “keep it coming” gesture)
Bros before hos.
Rocky Didn’t have my phone! This is Darla we’re talking about! Girl’s such a prude I was lucky to get close – Seize opportunity.
(Whispers)
Skinny dipping down In Darla’s POOL.
Victor You can’t score alone, Rocky. There’s buddies to feed.
Rocky I almost got there! She’s gone, now, Victor. It’s over. She’ll never sit On my face now. I’m out. I’m OVER.
Victor Hey! No one says You’re over till I say you’re over. What’s got into this chick?
Rocky ‘Cause she knows she’s beautiful! Darla’s so special! Wouldn’t let me Touch third.
Victor Listen to yourself! Giving her control!
Rocky
(whining)
Darla’s so different. Darla’s so special.
Victor You’re so CUFFED, man – That’s why she Dumps you – you’re into HER playbook, When she ought to be in YOURS. All quims are alike. Bitches need to be Dominated.
Rocky Not queens, man. They know they’re different.
Victor If I teach you one thing, bro It’s gotta be this – Beauty don’t last! Power lasts! Power grows! That’s the game, baby – it’s You or her – only one of you Gets out alive. Watch my lips! Second verse – same as the first. It’s her foot on your face or Your foot on her keester You better believe it. Play or be played.
Rocky But girls are so different! Some girls are big Some girls are tiny. Take Brandy’s chest –
Victor Taken. You’re wandering off point Rocky Here’s the point – Darla’s hot for beaner!
(frantic hip thrusting motion)
Rocky Aw, Darla doesn’t GET hot –
Victor Not for YOU, maybe. HE unsnapped her purse Gonna run through them bushes – If we let him – Like a machete.
Rocky But WHY? Just ‘cause He’s quarterback?
Victor ‘Cause he’s DIRTY. Girls can’t help it, brutha It’s all genetic – they got to Wander, seasoning the herd. First moment she saw him She’s wanting his rugrat Girl can’t help herself.
(falsetto voice)
Bareback me, baby! “I need a raw boy – Gimme your giant thing – Doin’ the map.” That’s why they need DOMINANCE.
Rocky Stop it! That’s not true! You don’t know that!
Victor All slits are ALIKE Lookin’ to get railed –
(grabs Rocky, shakes him)
You gotta Stay strong, my brutha – THIS is your moment THIS is your choice Don’t get cuffed Or you’ll soon be CUCKED!
Alysse Aallyn 