(enter EMILY‘s brother AUSTIN, tall, sedate, black-clothed midlife male with somewhat wild hair. He sweeps off his wet hat.)
EMILY Brother! This is the season reindeer love! What brings out you on a night like this when thunder gossips low, and water wrecks the sky?
(Very dramatic, gesturing)
A massacre of suns have been by evening’s sabers slain!
AUSTIN (Pushes past, impatient at her foolishness. He doesn’t want to play.) Is everyone in bed?
EMILY Yes of course. I have taken off my crown of thorns and donned my evening diadem. (Sighs explosively) Ah! To die divinely once a twilight!
AUSTIN I must needs interview, dear Sister. I require the parlor.
(He looks and acts guilty.)
EMILY Brother, how can we receive those who talk of hallowed things and embarrass my dog! The only one I meet is God.
AUSTIN No, no, no. Off to bed with you, Emily. It’s just that Sue can’t attend to…Mrs. Todd.
(Falsely jovial)
You remember Mrs. Todd. She’s indisposed.
EMILY Brother, you become improbable. Mrs. Todd is indisposed?
AUSTIN No, Sue.
EMILY (Anxiously pulling at his sleeve)
Is my Domingo ill? It’s easier to look behind at pain than to see it coming.
AUSTIN Sue chooses to be ill. She chooses to be black as death. Please don’t wait up for us. We won’t disturb you.
EMILY Life is death we’re lengthy at. All right, then, Brother. Impossibility exhilarates! I will take up my lantern, and go in search of deathless me. Keep a gas light burning, Brother, to light the danger up.
(AUSTIN brushes away her hand – EMILY dives behind the door to her conservatory – but eavesdrops. AUSTIN opens the front door, ushers a heavily veiled but elegantly clothed and youthful lady inside, into the parlor, closes the door behind them. Shoots the bolt home.)
EMILY (Listening behind the door)
They might not need me – yet they might! I’ll let my heart be just in sight. A smile as small as mine might be precisely their necessity. Ah, night’s possibility! I don’t mind locks as long as I can pick ‘em.
(In the parlor AUSTIN builds up the fire, as MABEL unwinds her many veils, which he eagerly receives. They face one another. )
AUSTIN Rubicon!
MABEL Rubicon indeed.
(They scrabble desperately at one another’s clothing, half undressing.)
EMILY (Listens, shaking her head)
Here’s a candy scrape! Love is hungry and must graze! Good to hide and hear ‘em hunt but better to be found.
(Spot follows her as she prepares her plants for the evening.)
AUSTIN I am famished for you.
MABEL I trust you as I trust God.
EMILY (Singing)
Title divine is mine! Wife without the sign! Garnet to garnet, gold to gold, Born, bridalled, shrouded in a day Is this the way?
(She holds a blossom to her cheek.)
My red, red, Persian ladies! Flowers are so enticing I fear that they are sins. I would rather have your moment’s blossom than a bee’s eternity.
AUSTIN (To MABEL)
I love you! Why should I and why shouldn’t I? Who made and who rules the human heart? Where is the wrong in preferring sunlight to shadow?
MABEL You reached out your hand in darkness, almost without knowing, and met another, warm and tender and you clasped it. It shall never be withdrawn.
AUSTIN I am overwhelmed, overjoyed. Intoxicated. We were made to give joy to each other.
(They make love. Light goes up onEMILY)
EMILY The bane is love. To lack it is a woe, to own it is a wound.
(She looks toward the parlor)
In all the circumference of expression the words of Adam and Eve never were surpassed: “I was afraid and hid myself.”
In her inimitable style, Emily comments on her relatives’ struggle over her estate following her death. Based on family letters, trial documents and the letters & poems of Emily Dickinson.
CHARACTERS
EMILY DICKINSON – a spryly girlish middle-aged woman with red hair AUSTIN DICKINSON – her slightly older brother, very tall and dignified but with hair and subtly tailored clothing that suggest a wilder inner spirit and a conviction of personal aristocracy MABEL LOOMIS TODD – a very pretty woman in her late twenties accustomed to showing herself to advantage, drawing all eyes and getting what she wants SUE GILBERT DICKINSON – a woman Emily’s exact age but more commandingly matronly as Austin’s wife she is the major local hostess accustomed to luxe décor, rich and fashionable clothing, valuable jewelry, elegant parties, avant garde discussions of progressive ideas and competently ordering fleets of servants. MAGGIE MAHER – Middle-aged Irish maid, very devoted to the Dickinsons, especially the Sisters LAVINIA “VINNIE” DICKINSON – slightly younger than Emily, a tad foolish and very fond of cats, she is easily led until she gets her back up DAVID TODD – a proud lover, a well-dressed ladies’ man, an astronomer and inventor who simply can’t advance in the world because he can’t leave other men’s wives alone MR SPAULDING – The lawyer from Northampton. A clueless booby. JUDGE – Elderly male MR. HAMMOND – Prosecutor – hard driving mature male MR HAMLIN – Defense – silky voiced mature male MATTIE DICKINSON – Young woman; Sue and Austin’s daughter – pining for a youth lost in family squabbles, the very last descendant of an increasingly embattled family (should be played by the actress who plays SUE) MILLICENT TODD – Young woman; an upstart with a good education determined to prove her mother’s not a whore (should be played by the actress who played MABEL)
SETTING: AMHERST, MASSACHUSETTS IN THE 1880’s and 1930’s.
SCENE BREAKDOWN: Scene 1 – Massachusetts in the 1880’s. The stage is divided into two “houses”, represented at right by The EVERGREENS (open to show Library) and at Left by the HOMESTEAD (open to show Parlor.) A strip of flowery meadow runs down the center. Both buildings are in tiptop condition. Action takes place back and forth between The HOMESTEAD and The EVERGREENS. Scene 2 – Same year, same place, a spring morning a few days later. Back and forth between the houses. Action commences at The Homestead where MABEL attempts to pay a call. Scene 3 – A few weeks later, beginning at the Homestead. Scene 4 – Austin & Mabel at the Homestead Scene 5 – A brilliantly sunny day a few years later. A fresh-painted new house has been added between the two previous houses – at the back of the stage. Scene 6 – Same places following AUSTIN’s death. Scene 7 – Mabel & Vinnie at The Homestead Scene 8 – A path in town a few weeks later Scene 9 – Massachusetts courtroom in the 1890’s. Scene 10 – The Homestead and the Evergreens in the 1930’s.
Scene 1 (At the front of the stage, lights go up on a red haired woman wearing worn black boots and a gauze aproned petticoat over black modern dance full-figure leotard. She stands stiffly at the center of the stage, clutching opposite hands in formal recitation pose.)
EMILY (Introducing herself; a recital pose)
This is my letter to the world that never wrote to me.
(Clears her throat, nervous at first, confidence increasing)
I’m Nobody! Who are you? Are you Nobody too? Then there’s a pair of us. Don’t tell! They’d advertise, you know. How dreary to be somebody! How public! Like a frog! Telling one’s name – the livelong day To an admiring bog!
(She attempts some awkward dance steps.)
They shut me up in prose when I was just a girl, so I cannot dance upon my toes. But had I ballet knowledge, I’d pirouette to blanch a troupe!
(Ring on bell followed by knocking. EMILY rushes to answer door.)
What fortitude the Soul contains that it can so endure the accent of a coming foot, the opening of a door!
CHORUS & DANCERS: WOMAN HUSBAND LOVER/LOVE OBJECT Diners, College Students, Furniture, Bank Tellers & Customers (5 or 6)
SceneChange I: A glittering dinner party of masked participants (CHORUS). WOMAN takes off her mask and gazes about in a bored way. At exactly the same moment by a kitchen screen a waiter holding a tray (LOVER) takes off his mask. They gaze at one another. He advances forward setting down his tray in front of her and slowly, deliberately removes his glove to draw his hand along her arm, removing her glove. Other diners too animated in their conversations to notice.
He removes his other glove, then her glove. With each of his sway-backwards motions she rises from her chair until he turns to flee behind the screen and, pulling up her skirts, she pursues.
SceneChange II: The CHORUS build their chairs into “trees” pursued and pursuer dart between; the dining table becomes “steps” upwards. CHORUS build themselves into a hall of “doors”; only the LOVER’s door is ajar.
SceneChange III: CHORUS build themselves into a “bed” and a “window”. LOVER removes his shirt, opens up his arms. He and WOMAN dance as she is helped out of her clothes. They simulate slow and passionate sex in front of the “window”, sitting upright on the “bed”. As they lie in each other’s arms the “window” shines its light on them. WOMAN rises, gathers up her clothes, dressing very inexpertly, runs into the hall in a panic.
SceneChange IV: CHORUS rebuilds “doors”. WOMAN wanders up and down the hall as if lost while college students (inverted masks) peek at her from behind their “doors”. Then light hits the “steps” and she runs down, performing a sensuous, joyous dance. DARKNESS.
SceneChange V: WOMAN’s bedroom. CHORUS approximates an “armoire” spilling feminine objects, a “cheval glass” (Mirror) and a “bed” piled with pillows. HUSBAND and wife simulate sex in wheelbarrow position, he wearing suspenders and a tie, holds her legs upwards. Her face is buried in pillows, her arms grasping upwards to…nothing. It does not look fun.
“Mirror” tries to position itself camera-wise to capture the action. Alarm Clock sounds; HUSBAND stops what he is doing, puts on pants and jacket, grabs a briefcase and does a robot dance out the door. WOMAN flounders in pillows, finally gets herself upright but he is gone. She tries on a variety of outfits and seems displeased by all of them (the Armoire and Mirror happily offer alternating possibilities.)
WOMAN dances a self-soothing dance with her different clothes while the Armoire and Mirror sway helpfully and supportively, until she is finally in a good mood again and feels beautiful. Makeup, hair,
shoes… and it is back through the TREES, up the STEPS to the HALL of DOORS.
SCENECHANGE VI: She knocks on each and every door. (There is one door with no one behind it). Each door she knocks at, an opposite door opens, a snatch of music is heard and someone leans out, only to retreat when she looks in his direction. Finally she is able to synchronize movements to grab hold of a masked student and pull him out.
He plays dumb, shakes his head, shrugs his shoulders, just doesn’t know WHO or WHAT she could POSSIBLY be talking about. All doors open, all students look out and engage in a head-shaking, shoulder-slumping stupidity contest of No Such Person. WOMAN tries to peek beneath one of the masks, student slaps her hand away. She gives up. With crossed arms they watch her leave down steps. DARKNESS
SCENECHANGE VII: A BANK with old-fashioned tellers’ cages. WOMAN stands first impatiently in line, finally gets to a window, opens her purse and evidently tries out a series of identity cards and bankbooks in an effort to get money. Teller shakes her head, gets another teller over, then manager; they repel all books, all cards, shake their heads, cross their arms NO.
The WOMAN starts dancing out the story of her love, unmistakably acting a passionate tale of romantic awakening. CHORUS of bank customers are drawn into this story – swaying and touching themselves in supportive echoes; the two tellers clutching, dancing, then finally sobbing together.
They open up both bank drawers and shower her with money which she stuffs in her huge Designer Handbag. Customers congratulate her, throw confetti, produce balloons, champagne, blow party horns and dance together in celebration of her triumph as they send her on her way, back up the “steps” to the Hall of Doors.
SCENECHANGE VIII: WOMAN knocks and knocks on the LOVER’s door. He’s sitting behind it all right, with his back against it, arms crossed (no mask) but not answering. He looks annoyed. She sinks to her knees, keeps speaking, wheedling, repeating as many of the gestures of her Romantic Bank Dance as she can manage on her knees, to no avail.
They are very close together, both pressed against the door. Mirror-play. All the other doors keep opening and closing with peeking tenants until finally they just loiter out to frankly stare. She begins to push money under the door. He looks at the money – interested, then disgusted – pushes it back.
There is a frantic pushing back and forth of money while the other students gather around – holding out their hands and offering with pelvic thrusts and unbuttoned shirts to take over and fill in. WOMAN flees down the hall, bumping back and forth between them, down the “steps”. DARKNESS.
SCENECHANGE IX: A street scene. Everyone is masked, (including WOMAN) as they stroll, walk pets, wait for buses. The WOMAN lifts her mask just a little bit to peek at each passerby. None are to her taste. A Pretty Young Man, unmasked (THE LOVE OBJECT) sits on a park bench reading a book. She chooses HIM. She takes off her mask and casts it onto his book.
This gets his attention; he looks at it as if it fell from outer space. She takes off her scarf, drapes it over his head. Now he gets that there’s a human being involved; he looks up at her, startled. She unbuttons her blouse and does an unmistakably sensual, sexual dance that gets him very hot under the collar. He rises from his bench to follow her. She leads him on slow chase through the TREES, discarding clothes & shoes which he gathers up.
SCENE CHANGE X: The TREES become GRAVESTONES – they are in a cemetery. LOVE OBJECT a little scared now, all by himself. Owl hoots, day darkens. He shivers as he looks around but he is still game. WOMAN has vanished.
He drops to his knees before a “gravestone” to pick up an item – a lacy thong – holds it up wonderingly. On the scrim behind him the huge shadow of a naked woman appears, seeming to fill the sky. He looks up, terrified. The scrim is thrown over him, snuffing him like a candle. DARKNESS
When I heard my brother-in-law was dead, I thought my sister had probably done it. Apparently I was the only one who thought so, because my sister, an aggressively born-again Christian, is a Perfect Person. A martyr. St. Hayley. I recalled a conversation we’d had years ago, when I’d been needling her about her newfound identity, reminding her of all the things she couldn’t do. “No more adultery,” I said, although as far as I knew she’d never been unfaithful to that unfaithful bastard.
“True,” she’d remarked.
“No more lying. Not even tiny social lies. You’ll have to tell everybody the plain, unvarnished truth. No more friends.”
“That’s not true,” she’d said. “There’s a wider truth we must be faithful to. It’s spiritual dishonesty we have to fear. Spiritual dishonesty is a splinter in the body of God.” Hear that? I call that “Jesuitical”. That kind of “I know better” reasoning can justify anything. My husband talks like that, but he’s a lawyer. He says there’s no truth, only juries. “How about justice?” I’d demanded and she smiled at me with that superior smile. “God’s in charge of justice.”
See? A person like that could justify murder! Then she made it worse by talking about how there’s always both forgiveness for sin and sin. If you can be forgiven at the last minute, no matter what you’ve done, can’t you ultimately get away with anything? It bothers me because it’s so obvious, but I can’t get anyone to agree.
“Think she did it?” I asked my husband.
“Hayley? She’d have to stand in line,” Simon.snorted. “Plenty of people had a bigger motive than she did.”
That wasn’t true. There was all that insurance money, plus she’d had to live with him every day. The screaming, the vomiting, the violence. Dave was a piece of work. Now she was free to do whatever she wanted. Sell the house, take a cruise, live abroad. Of course by her lights she couldn’t have sex without marrying someone, but maybe that doesn’t matter either, with forgiveness shimmering eternally on the horizon. On the other hand, that kind of money brings parasites. I’ve heard women in abusive relationships are closet masochists. Right out of the frying pan and into the fire. “If she did it, would you defend her?” I asked my husband.
“Nah,” he said, knotting his tie. Busy guy. Always on his way to somewhere, looking like a fashion plate as always. “Shouldn’t have a relative for a client.” He considered. “Unless she couldn’t get anybody else.”
“If I murdered you, would Al defend me?” I teased.
“That would be tougher.” He laughed. “You wouldn’t be ridding the world of an incubus, you’d be robbing the universe of a first class litigator.”
He has an answer for everything. Litigators “She did it,” I said. “I know.”I don’t know why I kept after him. Maybe I have to.because it’s so rare that when he looks at me, he’s thinking thoughts with me in them.“I doubt she’d have the strength,” he told me. “Somebody gave Dave’s head a pretty good pop.”
“So she hired someone. Of course she’d be in that person’s power forever.” Masochistic, right? “Or somebody did her a favor,” my husband returned. “Danger invites rescue. You think chivalry is dead?”
He’s supposed to be the cynical one!
At the funeral I searched Hayley’s face. I don’t know what I expected to see. The Mark of Cain? What I did see was a person tired and worn, who hadn’t been sleeping. No makeup, hair a mess, black jacket and white skirt — at a funeral? She looked more the way she looked when Dave was acting up. Of course maybe getting your head bashed in behind a bar is the ultimate act-up. She gave me a hug. Can’t ask a person if they’re a killer, not in the receiving line. I was forced to move on. After the receiving line she rushed upstairs. I saw a friend of hers from Al Anon take up a plate of food and what looked like a glass of wine. Why not? She wasn’t the one with the problem. I chose a seat with Simon and the lawyers. Telling war stories as usual. Simon’s partner Al waved a sandwich at me to acknowledge my presence.
“Good eats,” he said. Like I had anything to do with it. Woman equals food in his equation. I took advantage of the pause in their conversation to revert to my favorite topic. asked.
“Think they’ll catch the guy that did it?” I “If he’s dumb enough to use the credit cards,” said Al. “You’d think he would have taken Dave’s car,” I suggested. “Clean getaway.”
Al shrugged. “Must have had a car of his own.” “Some “desperate thief”, then. What was Dave even doing there? The bartender said he wasn’t even drinking in that bar.” “So he got loaded somewhere else,” said Al.
“Those guys always lie,” said Simon, wiping his mouth with the hand that wears the law school ring. Ugly bulky tacky thing. “Bartenders. They don’t want trouble.”
See? No joy for me in this situation. Everyone was celebrating Dave’s death. Good riddance, they were thinking. I imagined our situations reversed, with me the widow and Hayley attending Simon’s wake. Simon’s family is Italian, there would be a lot of screaming and crying, I can tell you. He supports everyone. Would Ihave the nerve to disappear, the way Hayley had done? No, I’d have to stay to be pawed over and criticized. Everything I do is wrong. Thank God I only see those people once a year. If Simon died, I’d take a cruise first thing. Although I should probably go to the gym for a year before putting on a swimsuit. We have a family membership but only Simon uses it – who has the time? Hayley is thin enough but those stretch-marks of hers make her look like she’s been clawed by a tiger. She needs surgery but of course she can afford it now.
I got the idea at the super market. I was standing in line, scanning the impulse purchases, and they had a stack of those lined tablets people who never write letters buy when they have to write a letter. Of course I‘d need one of those untraceable self-stick envelopes: no DNA. Use gloves. Simon says they get fingerprints off paper, now, all the time.
It was so much fun. I wrote the letter with my left hand. No way they could trace it to me. I wrote, I SAW WHAT YOU DID AND YOU WON’T GET AWAY WITH IT and signed it GOD. A hoot, right? I used a “Love” stamp (nice touch) and the address was one of those return stickers my sister puts in her Heart Association collection drive packets. Must be tons of those around! Then I mailed it at the box closest to her house – it’s on my route to the hairdresser – I didn’t even have to get out of the car. Just thinking about it gave me pleasure for days, although I wished I as there when she opened it.
Two days was all I could stand. I called her right before lunch.
“Hayley? It’s Maxine. How are you holding up?” “Better. First night without pills.”
Maybe she hadn’t opened it. I cursed the Heart Association sticker idea. If she thought it was a donation maybe someone else opened it. Didn’t tell her, threw my letter away. “Anything I can do? Need food?”
“God, no. The freezer’s groaning.” She hesitated. “You could come over tonight and pack up Dave’s things for Goodwill. My women’s group is coming. I warn you – there will be praying.” Great! “No thank you,” I said stiffly. “Anything but that.” Dave wouldn’t have allowed her “witches” anywhere near his house. I imagined lengthy ceremonies to evict his drunken, aggressive spirit. Possibly they would even try to intercede for his sodden, bossy soul. Ugh. Let’s face it. Dave belongs in hell. But he won’t be alone there.
“Could you take Kevin and Deanie for the weekend? I’m going on retreat.” “Sure,” I heartily agreed. “No problem. James and Heather love being with their cousins.” “Thanks,” she said. “I’ll set it up.”
Now aren’t I a good sister? But when I got home Simon had strewn our marital bed with suits and shirts. Packing for a trip. It’s a kingsize so I still found a place to perch.
“Hey,” I said, “I just agreed to take Kevin and Deanie for the weekend.”
“Not like they’re any trouble,” he told me, carefully matching socks and ties. He’s fussy about his clothes. He always looks good. A litigator is an actor, he says. “Trial Lawyers Association. Gotta go. The kids’ll be fine with movies and pizza. Video games. Isn’t that all they care about?” He has no idea in hell what looking after four kids single-handedly is like. “Back Sunday night,” said Simon. “I’ll be at the Helmsley Palace.”
The Helmsley Palace! That’s where we had our honeymoon! Such a wave of erotic longing washed over me I almost came all over myself then and there. Simon was such a good lover, and I was a virgin. But every time I told him to stop he stopped. It took us technically – a whole week to become man and wife. But what a week! Had I felt such arousal since? God knows where Simon got such control – I didn’t know and I didn’t ask. Both of us have tried telling our kids during “facts of life” discussions that you don’t have to go “all the way” to achieve the sexual nirvana MTV is telling them is out there, but I suspect it’s falling on deaf ears. Along with everything else we say. Single-parenting is not for sissies. The video was plugged in, the pizza was ordered and I was making popcorn when Deanie came in to tell me she’d forgotten her retainer. Perfect. Of course I said I’d go, telling Jamie in the garage — he was showing Kevin his dirt bike — that he was in charge for an hour and giving him the pizza money. They’ve got my cell number.
Felt a surge of independence climbing into the car and driving down the darkened street. No wonder Simon loves leaving us behind, all warm and cozy, headed off to his other life. Well I have another life too! I’m an Anonymous Letter Writer. Plus now I’m Maxine, Girl Detective, searching for the bloodied sledgehammer or the hitman’s threat note: Pay Up or Else.”
Hayley’s house was substantially different without Dave’s dark spirit. You could just feel it. That hideous den of his was emptied of its ugly sports memorabilia and beer signs; repainted and furnished with chintz and wicker. You could just see the church ladies sitting down to their cups of tea.
But when I entered Hayley’s bedroom I got the worst shock. It was completely empty, carpet torn up, furniture gone. Like she was running away. Except there were ladders and tarps and paint swatches. She was erasing him from her life. Who could blame the lucky bitch? But my problem is, where to search when your suspect has no desk, no bedside table and everything’s in boxes? I’d waited too long.
She’d moved into the guest bedroom, a monastic cubicle with a cross above the single bed. But there was a bedside table, and the table had a Bible, and the Bible was stuffed with papers, and that’s where I found what I was looking for.
It didn’t have an address, it didn’t even have a signature but I hope I know my husband’s handwriting. He said he respected her decision but his feelings would never change. That he would always be “there” for her. He said, “I want you to know there’s someone on this planet who loves you utterly.”
When I took the letter I was blind with pain and rage. It was like he’d killed something in me with that letter. Something in me was stillborn because it needed another person to bring it to life and I had never had that person. Because my own husband was “there” for someone else. Was she “rewarding” him right now at the Helmsley Palace? Was she speaking to his hands the way I used to, saying “here” and “here” and “here”? Faster, slower, deeper? And whose fault was that? Not mine, because I had always done everything that was ever expected of me. I took the letter because I knew then I could make him finally speak the truth to me. But what happens if the truth is that I’m alone and I’ve always been alone and I’ll always be alone? Where’s the justice in that?
Alysse Aallyn 