Back in DREAM LAB – CORSO calling with baton and headphones)
CORSO
Children! Come back! Playtime is over! Wake up, children! Don’t get lost in NeverNeverLand!
(CORSOconductsFlight of the Valkyrie. JAZZandCHASEare sucked apart to opposite sides of the stage. Lowlights come up on Dream Lab. CHASEfalls back on his recliner. Other students thrashing and moaning. JAZZ falls to floor, CHASEstruggles to her side to help her up)
JAZZ
(Retching)
I think I saw death.
CHASE
And I saw the face of evil.
CORSO
(Appearing with a roll of paper towels and a bucket of water bottles – lights up all the way, music down)
Rough sleep?
CHASE
Yeah. But was worth it.
CORSO
I’m talking to Miss Suzino. Gave yourself a bloody nose there, sport.
(CORSOhands out bottles of water)
JAZZ
(feels her face)
I did? Is it my blood?
KOO
I’m definitely going to throw up.
CORSO
First times are always the worst times. Care for a basin?
KOO
No, I want a bathroom.
(Staggers off futon, SOLIZ reaches out to her)
SOLIZ
I’ll help her.
(They lurch off behind Ladies Locker)
CORSO
Any more foreheads require mopping? Allow me to audition my Florence Nightingale impersonation. I’ve been universally praised for my bedside manner.
JAZZ
(Mopping herself)
Maybe I’m the one who died.
CORSO
Forget the safe word?
RAD
There’s a safe word? Now he tells us.
CHASE
How about “Stop”. Or “No”?
CORSO
The problem with that is behind the fear lies the wish.
CHASE
Behind the wish lies the demon. So there is no safe word.
CORSO
How about “I quit”? Is that what you’re trying to say, Mr. Quinn?
CHASE
You first.
CORSO
(They glare at each other. Horrible retching noises from locker room)
Now, now, now. Just when we were getting along so well.
(ZANEhas stood up and is lurching around as if sleepwalking.)
CORSO
Mr. Braden, assist your colleague back to his launching pad.
(RADstands up, goes toZANE, wakes him, and leads him to his futon to sit.SOLIZbrings a green-facedKOO out of the Ladies’)
RAD
My name is Borden.
CORSO
Now wasn’t that fun? Good times. Upchucking can hardly be an unusual experience for you, Miss Loflin.
SOLIZ
Don’t give her so much next time. She’s little. She can’t get the same dose as everyone else.
CORSO
I wish the guinea pigs would stop wrestling with me for control of this experiment. I make the decisions around here. The doctor knows what he’s doing.
SOLIZ
Sorry.
CORSO
Now I posit the ultimate question. Anybody “fly”? Did we achieve liftoff?
SOLIZ
I think I fell. It seemed so real. Maybe it was only a dream.
CORSO
Only a tear in the fabric the universe, a burp from the hippocampus, a haiku from the collective unconscious, an oracle of future empowerment? Speak to us, Miss D’Accosta. Tell us everything.
SOLIZ
(Stands up to act out events she describes)
I was in the elevator at Hadleigh – for some reason I was in a big hurry. I remember looking at my watch but my watch had stopped. It was an analog watch without any hands.The elevator opened on the top floor and I rushed out. All these people were staring at me and they started to laugh. I realized I was naked. I couldn’t get back in the elevator – the doors had melted. The floors were melting and the whole building lurched to one side. I panicked. I was thrown against people and I hate people touching me but I was helpless. No soulmates, just a gang. I’m scared of gangs. They were herding me. But there was the window so I jumped right through, thinking, maybe I can fly. I felt the glass tearing apart my body. At first I felt this great release. A sense of excitement. Like I can do anything I want, like I got away with it. I was trying to move my arms and legs – it seemed like slo-mo – so I pumped and pumped – moving more frantically – but I knew all along it wouldn’t work. It doesn’t work with swimming. You’ve got to find the peaceful center but there was no peaceful center. So I fell – knowing you’d be disappointed and maybe flunk me but hoping my crushed body could tell the scientists something. That second before I hit I was – it was the most disgusting feeling – suspended, staring at the chalk outline where I my corpse would be. I remember thinking, “I hope we get a second chance” but all I heard was laughter. Others were getting it. Others were doing it. Splat! Face-first into the pavement. I felt my face pushed into my brain, my spine crumbling– body turning inside out, I became “the visible woman” with her organs on the outside. That was right before my organs exploded like water balloons and there was nothing left. I was completely gone and so there was nothing left to go to heaven, no welcoming light, no happy faces. Just sadness and loss; a night of blackout drinking. That couldn’thave been an out of body experience. It was more like a nightmare. Right?
(SOLIZ’s face is sweaty, anxious. CORSO, hand to chin, considering)
CORSO
A classic shame dream. You felt humiliated by your naked body – a very nice body I might add – as if by some unwilling revelation of your essential self. A common anxiety dream, I assure you. Hampered by cultural imperatives your attempted “escape” was disguised as self-punishment; you “looked down”, ergo tumbled and fell. Almost Greek in its simplicity. I especially liked the note about the handless watch. Very Dali-esque.
RAD
I’m all for naked dreams.
JAZZ
Our naked selves aren’t our essential selves.
CORSO
(Looking at her very displeased. Those guinea pigs again)
How so, Miss Suzino?
JAZZ
I mean, everyone’s naked body is alike. Choices reveal our essential selves.
CORSO
Spoken like a fashion major. How jejeune.
CHASE
I know what she means. It’s why people get tattoos.
CORSO
Says a tattooed denizen of the underclass.
ZANE
Everybody’s naked body is not alike! I wish!
RAD
(Trying so hard to be ZANE’s buddy)
Right! I mean, if only!
JAZZ
I mean generally.
CORSO
We split hairs. Nevertheless you expose the dangers of word selection, Miss D’Accosta. Forget “flying”. Who went elsewhere? Absolutely elsewhere? Just tell me that.
(JAZZshakes head impatiently and crabwalks out of Dream Lab down the steps toward audience.
JAZZ
Where is this place? It smells like death. The end of everything.
(A dead body falls from rafters ands hangs by its elbows obstructingJAZZ’s path – she struggles with it)
JAZZ
Hey! Watch where you’re going! Get out of my way!
(Feels up the body in a panicked way)
JAZZ
Oh, my God, I’m so sorry! Did I bump into you? Are you all right? Are you OK?. What’s wrong?
(She wrestles & dances with swinging corpse, batters it like a punching bag. EnterCHASE who pulls her away. His eyes are open)
CHASE
What is this – a morgue? Come on, we’ve got to get out of here.
JAZZ
(Can’t leave her partner)
Someone died and I’ve gone blind.
CHASE
You’re notblind. Open your eyes. Just don’t look behind you.
(Turns her, kisses her. She resists at first, then leans into him as the kiss deepens. She opens her eyes, feeling his face)
JAZZ
It’s you.
CHASE
What are you doing in a morgue?
JAZZ
This is the basement.
(Turns, sees corpse)
Aaagh!
CHASE
Leave her. She’s past help.
JAZZ
Did she fall?
CHASE
Not with her head bashed in. Come on. We’re urgently required elsewhere.
(Hustles her past the orchestra pit and back up on stage)
JAZZ
Shouldn’t we call somebody?
CHASE
We’ve got to keep moving. Something’s stalking us.
JAZZ
That’s just my boyfriend. He won’t go home. Keeps threatening me.
(Grabbing CHASE frenziedly)
Maybe the dead body is me!
CHASE
It’s some old lady past her sell-by date.
JAZZ
Where are you taking me? Won’t we get into trouble for leaving? Where are we?
(SCENE III – Lights go up on CORSO’s APARTMENT set. Doorstands between JAZZ, CHASE anda room of bed, bureau, chairs. Ambiance created by candles, tossed books and clothes)
JAZZ
Where did this come from? Did we like – soul travel?
CHASE
(laughs)
Maybe that bastard Corso really hit on something! The irony – you can’t imagine. Flying! Couldn’t you feel it? While we were kissing.
JAZZ
All I know is you dragged me somewhere I don’t want to be. Where is this? YUCK! Smells like old socks in here.
CHASE
Better than your morgue. This is Corso’s place.
JAZZ
How do you know?
CHASE
I helped him move in.
JAZZ
But why are we here? Is lab over? Maybe we won’t get paid.
CHASE
(Opening drawers and tossing clothes and papers)
There are more important things than money.
JAZZ
Said by someone who obviously has some. Are we dreaming?
CHASE
Together? In my dream you would be more cooperative.
JAZZ
And in my dream you wouldn’t waste time dragging me to Professor Corso’s bachelor hideaway.
CHASE
We’re real. It’s Corso’s razzle-dazzle that isn’t real.
JAZZ
Why? How do you know? I need that money and those credits.
CHASE
The closer you get to it the further it will recede.
JAZZ
You don’t talk like a soulmate. I don’t think you care anything about me.
CHASE
I don’t know you. I’ve got obligations, is all.
JAZZ
You’re wasting precious dream time pawing through Dr. Corso’s private stuff when we should be getting to know each other.
CHASE
In my experience opportunities like this are one time only.
JAZZ
It just doesn’t feel the way I expected.
CHASE
Don’t be so self-referential.
JAZZ
You literally CAN’T be my soulmate. I thought Corso lived on a farm in the country.
CHASE
His wife kicked him out.
JAZZ
She did? Aren’t you going to have to put everything back?
CHASE
He’ll never prove it was us – we’ve got the perfect alibi.
JAZZ
Why is my soulmate a criminal? Lucky me. I really can pick ‘em. So what are you searching for?
CHASE
Evidence. What he’s really up to. Don’t ever believe the magician’s misdirection. He’s the king of mind games. Look at this.
(Flourishes paper)
JAZZ
What’s that?
CHASE
Bankruptcy filings! Divorce filings!
JAZZ
What’s THAT have to do with anything?
CHASE
A desperate Corso is a dangerous Corso.
(Throws her a scrapbook)
See if there’s anything in here.
JAZZ
(Studying the pictures)
“First mass, 1978!” He did say he used to be a priest.
CHASE
True. Imagine Corso absolving people!
JAZZ
He told me the church expelled him.
CHASE
True again. The best lies always contain some truth.
JAZZ
For falling in love, he said.
CHASE
Bzzz! Not! Lie!
JAZZ
No pictures of his wife in here. I wonder what she looks like. All these pictures are of him.
CHASE
The prince of fauxmance cares only about himself. He married her for cash. Look, here’s a picture of you. You must be his type.
JAZZ
That’s Bettie Page. People are always saying I look like her. I ‘ve never worn a leopardskin bra. He certainly was a buck-toothed, buzz-cut wunderkind. Must have had work done.
CHASE
Sold his soul to the devil, is what happened.
JAZZ
If this is astral projection – how come I still have a body?
CHASE
(Looks up briefly)
You don’t like your body? I like your body.
JAZZ
That’s not it…I just figured we’d be essences. I was looking forward to floating around like an essential spirit.
CHASE
But how would we recognize each other? Dante recognized the spirits that he saw in hell and heaven. Makes sense to me. All things considered, I’d rather have a body to experience things with.
JAZZ
I get that. But why do some bodies wind up dead? I keep thinking about that poor old lady –
CHASE
(Still looting)
Here’s a restraining order. He’s not allowed to come within a thousand feet of Evangeline Corso.
JAZZ
Wow. Have you ever met Mrs. Corso?
CHASE
Twice. She was very nice the first time. Obviously older than him, but an interesting talker. But the second time she started screaming about eco-terrorism, about how something was poisoning her, how she was suddenly allergic to everything. He had to pull her off me.
JAZZ
Corso, you suspect?
CHASE
Big time. He’s the only terrorist I know.
JAZZ
You can add Bex to that list.
CHASE
I doubt he equals Corso’s sheer lethality.
JAZZ
Give him time. You really have it in for Corso.
CHASE
He had it in for me.
(The TV has its back to us. When CHASE bumps it, blue light flickers on)
JAZZ
Look at this. Seems like Corso and the Howk are having a Thing.
CHASE
Are you surprised? She really throws down, if you know what I’m saying.I was there at the same time as Soliz and she came on to both of us.
JAZZ
Some people are like that. It’s all performance art.
CHASE
This look like performance art to you?
(JAZZjumps)
JAZZ
That’s disgusting! Turn it off.
(TV off)
Nobody really wants to be strangled. That must be a performance, for sure. Because don’t we know she’s still alive?
CHASE
Do we?
JAZZ
(She sits down on bed to watch him loot)
Think we’ll remember this when we get back to normal?
CHASE
I’m pretty sure you and I have different definitions of normal. I can’t tell you what will happen. I’m a first timer, too. We have to play it the best we can.
JAZZ
If this is a dream, maybe we’re making it up as we go along.
CHASE
If you’re not a psychology major, you don’t know about the maze-solving worms.
JAZZ
(JAZZputs chin on hand)
You’re right. Never heard of it. Do tell.
CHASE
They taught these worms to solve complex mazes, you know, by giving them rewards. And then they ground them up and fed them to these otherworms.
JAZZ
What a mean thing to do!
CHASE
Except the new worms knew the maze first time.
JAZZ
So that proves…what?
CHASE
Memory is chemical.
(Taps his head)
JAZZ
So Corso’s going to grind us up and feed us…to the alternates?
CHASE
Trust me. He would if he could.
(Pulling out drawers. JAZZ tosses CORSO’s messy sheets)
JAZZ
I can’t believe we’ll get away with this.
(Jumps to her feet)
Yuck! I’m wet. I sat in their wet spot! It’s blood!
(Looks in a panic at her hands, wipes them on her pants, touches her cheeks, increasingly upset.)
Yuck, yuck, yuck! There’s blood on this sheet and now it’s on me!
CHASE
Sssh. You’re not really here.
JAZZ
You just said we were!
(She throws the papers he’s gathering in the air, he grabs her and starts kissing her)
Now you’re getting it on you.
CHASE
I’m getting you on me. I’m starting to think you really are my soulmate.
JAZZ
(Kissing him back)
So please get me out of this disgusting place.
CHASE
I’m sorry I’m so bad at this. It’s just that I can never forget.
(Perceptual Studies Student Lab at College . Enter CORSO in Burberry, cap and scarf)
CORSO
Sorry I’m late. I’ll make it up. Time’s our bitch, but that’s what we’re here for – get on top of it. I see you’ve met my teaching assistant, Mr. Quinn.
(IndicatesCHASE)
CHASE
I thought you fired me.
CORSO
But you’re so charming as my warm-up act. Who could resist you? Consider yourself re-hired.
ZANE
(Pointing at CHASE)
Ringer! Ringer!
CORSO
(Opens a door)
Welcome to Paradise. After you.
(Lights up on DREAM RESEARCH LAB ; six recliners arranged in a circle – lockers to either side– students study their environment. Glittering disco ball lowers from ceiling shedding fractals. Padded floor; students step gingerly. At center of recliners a black chalice on a tripod emits dry ice smoke)
CORSO
(Slams door aggressively)
Now you’re committed.
RAD
My folks always said I’d end up committed.
ZANE
And in a padded cell.
CORSO
God forbid you should fall down in your dream-throes and sue the institute that birthed your intellect.
CHASE
Where are the sensors?
CORSO
Everything’s wireless these days, poor Mr. Quinn! What are you worried about? Nobody would dare to censor you.
KOO
(Gestures at the disco ball)
Is that a camera?
CORSO
The Eye of History.
(Claps hands)
Chop, chop, little ones – Enough rubbernecking. Time’s a-wasting. Male locker room there, females that-away. Discard outerwear and belongings. Let’s get going.
(As CHASE passes him, CORSO says dryly)
The old razzle dazzle? REALLY?
(Banging of locker doors)
CHASE
We’ll see.
CORSO
We certainly will. Now, if you children would arrange yourselves male, female – thusly.
RAD
Like some antique dinner party?
CORSO
Sacred geometry. We need all the energy we can harness. We are immersing ourselves in the flip side of reality- the Unseen.
(JAZZandCHASEare side by side. CORSO distributes mugs)
CORSO
Tea time!
CHASE
What is this stuff?
CORSO
Sorry, Mr. Quinn, research is not a democracy. All that’s guaranteed is, you sleep on cue without allergic overdrive.
ZANE
I’m not allergic to Nurse Howk, either. Yowza!
RAD
(Shaking his hand as if from a burn)
I know, right?
CORSO
Drink up and settle down. I am collecting mugs so I will know who’s been naughty and who’s been nice.
JAZZ
Yuck! This stuff tastes like bark.
(RADbarks like a dog)
CORSO
Shotgun it, Miss Suzino. Knock it back. Isn’t that the college way?
. (CORSOcollects mugs, turning them upside down to be sure they’re empty)
Musical selection? Classical or non-classical?
ZANE
Anything so long as it’s not classical.
CHASE
Anything – so long as it’s classical.
(They glare at each other. CORSO laughs)
CORSO
The bulls do clash! Ocean sounds it is!
(He conducts the music)
Everyone hold hands and close eyes please. Let the bonding begin!
CHASE
(Muttering)
Bondage, more like.
CORSO
Mr. Quinn! Must I gag you? That can be arranged!
(CHASE finally closes his eyes, rocking back and forth to get comfortable. Lights go down to twilight level on DREAM LAB. CORSO ascends on TOWER LIFT, wearing earphones and holding a conductor’s baton)
CORSO
Welcome to cosmic dreaming. You will dream at such a depth your mind will burst the bonds of selfhood and explode free and untrammeled into the universe. Free from the chains of time, from identity itself, we uncover the truth the quotidian obscures; we are one. Think on it. Think what it would means to be freed from debt, obligation, relationship, guilt, regret or loss. There are no mistakes. Without identity you are released from suffering. Everything you have ever wanted we can achieve together, effortlessly, and in abundance. Desires and longing are the fuel that rocket us to the stratosphere of rarest air. Once we merge in the great Oneness, we will dream uniquely and together.
(CORSOturns a page on his music stand)
Learning to harness our dream, we will control it, uniting our powers generously to become a potent force of reckoning. Prepare yourselves for the ultimate luxury – surrender – lost in the imaginative union that has always been your birthright. Time to claim and master your entitlement. In our relaxation mass consciousness will seize control…But you must be quick!The garden door is closing and you’ll be left behind… See, the stars are out. The world inside and the world without await your signal – longing to merge. Only the clatter in your head prevents the natural fruition of your indissoluble longing.
Doesn’t it feel good leaving the world behind? The universe itself is lost beneath you now. Now flesh itself melts away as invisible imperfections open themselves to perfection. Accept the freedom you are offered. When you open your eyes, you will be gazing down at the husk of your unwelcome, banished self.
(CORSO’Sspot is extinguished, spot rises onJAZZwho stands up eyes closed, feeling out in front of her like sleepwalker. She feels her way to the edge of the stage. No other students stir. CORSO’s voice orates as if from space.)
CORSO
Now the room itself vanishes, your earthly fears becoming someone else’s problem. Release those worries. Look how tiny they seem, as they disappear over the horizon.
(JAZZshakes head impatiently and crabwalks down the steps toward audience.
JAZZ
Where is this place? It smells like death. The end of everything.
Cutter Farrell – older male – Chase’s mean, scary cold-eyed dad
Bex – male youth – Jazz’s scary biker ex
SCENE I –WAITING ROOM (i.e. circle of chairs) outside DREAM RESEARCH LAB. Visible DOOR to one side. Students – edgy, impressionable JAZZ , angry suspicious, punked out wrestler CHASE, King-of-the-World jock business major ZANE, RAD (Black, light-sprung guy with ornate dreads and gay overtones) SOLIZ (pretty, smoky, hot, ethnic, resentful) KOO (tiny blond cheerleader, very anxious alternately sprawl and rock on uncomfortable “waiting room” chairs)
JAZZ
(Fanning)
God, it’s hot in here. I’mmelting.
CHASE
(Offering a hand)
And I’m Chase.
JAZZ
(Blushing – takes his hand)
I mean, I’m Jazz. Hi.
SOLIZ
(A tad hostile)
Who’s named Jazz?
JAZZ
(shrugs)
Short for Jasmyn. Mothers – Disney – what can you do?
RAD
You got that right. My parents call me Grady. Grady Borden! Get a brother killed on the street. I go by Rad. Or G-Rad.
(He and Zane trade complicated fist bumps & bicep grabs)
SOLIZ
Shouldn’t it be“Raid”?
CHASE
Let people have the nickname they want. And you are?
SOLIZ
Soliz. I should be a third year but I transferred so I’m only a sophomore. That’s all the credits they would give me – and I graduated junior college.
RAD
Hey, I’m a transfer too! They turned me down straight outta high school. I mean, is this place a snob factory or what?
CHASE
I just assumed we’d all be psych majors but I don’t recognize anyone.
(Points)
ZANE
Zane. Business major.
(He waves)
KOO
I’m Koo. Like koo–kool. I was a communications major but they gave me such a bad internship I really couldn’t hack it. Now I’m uncommitted. I don’t know what to do. Everything available you hear bad things about.
RAD
(Points toKOO)
I know I’ve seen you. Top of the pyramid, right?
KOO
(Shrugs – happy at the perks of fame)
I’m the flier. My feet never touch ground.
RAD
You’re the one goes with that quarterback? Am I correct?
KOO
Bo Boyd. Yes.
RAD
Woo-hoo! Humptious!
(Fanning)
Hells YES it’s hot in here!
(Takes off his bomber jacket stunned byKOO’s hotness)
CHASE
It would be just like Dr. Corso turning up the heat to make us squirm.
(Waves up at presumably unseen camera)
Hi, doc!
ZANE
That’s a sprinkler, dog.
CHASE
You better believe there’s a camera in here someplace. He needs to collect his little trophies. Bargaining chips. His little icons.
RAD
So he turns up the heat till we boil? Like frogs in the experiment?
KOO
What frogs?
RAD
The frogs that were too stupid to get out of the hot water. ‘Cause it happened so slowly.
SOLIZ
Those frogs were in search of a paycheck.
ZANE
They never boiled any frogs! That’s for sure an urban legend!
CHASE
Listen to the marketing major! Always first with the non-facts.
ZANE
Well at least we know we’re not going to get boiled.
CHASE
Did you read what you signed? He can do any goddam thing he wants to us.
KOO
Well he can boil me if he pays me. You should see my VISA bill.
RAD
(Sycophantically trying – and failing – to be ZANE’s best buddy)
Like there’s a difference between psychology and marketing. Am I right? Everyone’s trying to sell you something.
JAZZ
Am I the only freshman?
CHASE
You’re a freshman?
JAZZ
I’m an old freshman. Took me awhile to get here.
KOO
If you’re a freshman you must live in Hadleigh!
JAZZ
Is that bad?
KOO
It’s pathetic is what it is! Hadleigh has sick building syndrome. And the girls are at the top where the bad air collects and it’s like the worst.
CHASE
All the poor little freshmen jumping out their windows!
JAZZ
Those windows don’t even open!
ZANE
They don’t open now because of all the suicides.
KOO
Because of the sick building syndrome!
(BEX – big, mean, long haired, motorcycle jacket & boots, appears on the opposite side of the door and starts hammering)
BEX
Jazz! Jazz! Jazz!
(Embarrassed JAZZ slides out the door and closes it carefullyafter her. BEX grabs her immediately)
JAZZ
Omigod, Bex, what are you doing here? You have to go!
BEX
Don’t answer my texts, don’t answer my emails – You’re forcing me to stalk you. Your choice, babe. MY LIFE.
(JAZZtries to detach)
JAZZ
You’ve GOT a life. You need to get back to it. We broke up, remember?
BEX
So that’s it? Kicking me to the curb?
JAZZ
You knew I wanted to go to college. I was lucky to get this scholarship.
BEX
So now you’re too good for me, is that it? Now you’re hanging out with that old guy who looks like your granddad!
JAZZ
(Pushing him away)
He’s my advisor. So stop with the paparazzi scheme, Bex, stop spying on me and posting the pictures. Scram. Go home.
(Manages to get behind the door – slams it in his face – barricadesit shut.BEXmarches offstage with a look of determination – like – he’s not quitting)
RAD
(Clueless)
Thought you were making a break for it.
CHASE
Need help with that?
JAZZ
Nah. No.
(She sits down but nervous glance at door)
RAD
It’s crunch time, am I right? Better get out now! More for us!
ZANE
Did you hear we all have alternates?
RAD
No. No way!
ZANE
Way. These are juicy gigs. Paid research jobs – I mean, it neverhappens.
CHASE
Makes you wonder what he’s up to.
ZANE
Just making sure we show, is all.
CHASE
And here we are. Why did you show up?
(points atJAZZ)
JAZZ
I’m sort of hoping it’s true. The soulmate thing.
RAD
The wha-?
JAZZ
Skydancers. Dakinis, they call them. Dreampower.
KOO
Didn’t you read the book? You were supposed to read the book. Soulmates can soultravel. Like, everywhere.
RAD
There’s an urban legend right there for sure.
ZANE
It’s the remote viewing thing that I want. Weapon of the future. Business of a lifetime. Defense contractors throw mad money at that stuff.
RAD
Mad money!
(High fives withZANE.)
SOLIZ
Astral projection? Out of body experiences? Impossible. I hopeit doesn’t work because I need the sleep. I’ve got like, two other jobs.
ZANE
Sleep’s a luxury. Too luxurious for us bottom feeders – this is hustle time.
KOO
Think everyone’s got a soulmate? Each one of us? Out there somewhere?
RAD
What’s Bo Boyd say to THAT?
KOO
Maybe it’s him.
(Not like she believes it)
CHASE
What is the likelihood we’ll find soulmates AMONG EACH OTHER? Six strangers? Seriously!
JAZZ
Maybe soulmates create each other.
CHASE
This here is exactly why Dr. Corso chose non-psych majors! Soulmates! Out-of-body experiences! It’s the old razzle-dazzle! Cover story. Dr. Corso’s the king of bullshit. That’s not what he’s interested in at all! They never tell you what they’re really testing.
RAD
Well, then, what do you think he’s testing?
CHASE
Beats me. But I sure would love to know.
JAZZ
He’s testing our dreams. I never dreamed before I came here. And ever since I moved in I’ve been having these fantastic dreams.
KOO
It’s that sick building. I’m telling you.
ZANE
It’s the drug the nurse gave us. You know, at the Health Center? The tolerance test? Whatever that stuff was. My dreams were crazy, too!
RAD
Who can forget Tolerance Test with Nurse Humptious! God knows what she did to me while I was out of it. Probably me-tooed this poor homeboy.
ZANE
Yeah, she got you in trouble and now she’ll have to marry you.
A trial is a cutaway of its time and place, a look not just into mores and modalities but secrets and sewage. Two of the most interesting trials I have seen – and I watched every day – were Beth Carpenter’s trial in New London, CT and Michael Peterson’s in Raleigh, N.C. (both 2002, both for first degree murder.)
Each trial exposed the inner workings of a family (two families in the Carpenter case) and were so enormously influential for me that I wrote fiction about them.
Both trials revealed levels of shocking hypocrisy so deep we could have been in Victorian London; these accused would do anything to get what they wanted while maintaining social appearances.
At the time of his wife’s death Michael Peterson was gay sexting on hotmilitarystud.com; and although he insisted his wife knew about his affairs her daughter (who lived with them) did not think so. But the real shock in this case was that an identical death was exhumed from his past – another woman who died on bloody staircase. Both skulls revealed seven blows to the top of the head.
The first woman’s daughters – whom Peterson acquired along with her assets – thought she had died of an aneurysm. What would it feel like to see their mother’s real skull revealed in court for all the world to see? That was the genesis of Depraved Heart, though I changed everything else to create my own world.
In the Carpenter case, Beth came from a family of strivers who felt soiled and humiliated by their other daughter’s marriage to a part time stripper tow truck driver. Beth was accustomed to ordering her boyfriends around – two of them testified that she took over their cars and bank accounts as soon as they showed interest. Her boss, Hayman Clein, a successful Connecticut real estate attorney, fell for her attractions and became her virtual slave. When she asked him to find her a hit man, he offered up his coke dealer – and the three of them went down for the crime. That this simple ask keeping her own hands clean made Beth a murderer too is something she should have known – she also was a lawyer.
I used aspects of her overpowering character to create my Queen of Swords.
It’s a truism that real life needs to be toned down for fiction: no one would believe it.
(Curtain. Lights up on Scene 3, CONSULTATION ROOM of DR. CRAIG. LEONARD sits, head in hands.)
DR CRAIG Glad to see you, Mr. Woolf. I am eager to hear your opinion of the progress of our patient.
LEONARD Virginia and I have been talking and I must admit she does not sound altogether mad to me.
DR CRAIG My dear fellow, insanity of the mind merely means whatever derangement disables a person from thinking the thoughts, feeling the feelings and doing the duties of the social body in, for, and by which he lives. Insanity is nothing more than a want of harmony between the individual and his social medium. That individual sadly becomes a social discord of which nothing can be made.
LEONARD She speaks frequently of her home life where her brothers took advantage of her.
DR CRAIG You are referring to her delusions. You will have noticed that patients, particularly intelligent ones, are very cunning as they seek to involve their caregivers into sharing their beliefs of persecution and misfortune. It is much better not to allow oneself to re-hash a history that must remain forever uncertain but to forcefully insist on a calming, healthful daily regimen starting now.
LEONARD Surely, you’ll agree that being resentful of bad treatment hardly constitutes insanity.
DR CRAIG My dear sir, your wife is under doctors’ care because she tried to take her own life. We are obviously not dealing with a healthy person here. No, taken by themselves, delusions do not necessarily indicate insanity but when they are found in conjunction with broad evidence of failure to conform one’s general conduct to the ordinary rules of life and society such a diagnosis must be made. Clearly such an obligation places great responsibility on the keen insights and experience of professional men rigorously educated to the highest standard and admitted by the demanding qualifications of the Royal Society of Medicine. As a man of the world you must know that is always very common for weaker beings to resent those on whom greater fortune has been showered and to feel their gains are somehow ill-gotten. This resentment stirs up a host of fantasies that must be very firmly rejected. Successful work never leads to this disorder but unsuccessful work shows a very different etiology.
LEONARD But in the case of Virginia’s upbringing –
DR CRAIG Mr. Woolf, in every case the instinctive impulses of children must sooner or later clash with the social regime, to the infant’s sorrow and momentary discomfiture. Elders must be recognized as the authority in such matters or chaos would result. Therefore, no airing of childhood wrongs can ever constitute a fruitful line of inquiry.
LEONARD It seems the situation was so severe that Dr. Savage was consulted at the time –
DR CRAIG My good fellow, it would be better for you to face the fact that delusions never require any other support than the conviction of the deluded. A man may believe, for example, that his head has been opened, his brains removed and some other substance substituted. That is a very common delusion, I can assure you.
LEONARD Virginia is an intelligent woman. I believe she must be handled intelligently. I may even say she has a touch of genius. In fact, I believe she is the only true genius I have ever met.
DR CRAIG Are you arguing that geniuses are in some way above or beyond the law, Mr. Woolf? I certainly hope you are not.
LEONARD Her family was considered the highest intellectual intelligentsia of their day. It seems obvious to me –
DR CRAIG What is obvious to me, is that the degree of education and the social status of the person whose conduct is under consideration are indeed important facts, for habits that would be decidedly eccentric in the upper classes may pass unremarked in the lower reaches of society. The sex of the patient is even more critical to diagnosis. Outbursts of emotional weeping in men, for example, are a symptom of grave import but among women occasion no remark. Any woman’s effort to escape her true femininity places her moral hardihood at peril. Imagine some up to date woman adopting a divided skirt under the belief that it is a healthier form of apparel and permits greater freedom of action. Very well. But should she indulge in so subversive a notion as to think that male attire is even more hygienic and to actually carry her belief into practice, the arm of the law will at once reach out to warn her. If the warning is not heeded, society will place her in safekeeping until she has learned to conform to the ideas of the majority. This is the situation in which your wife finds herself at the current time. Before her marriage, I am given to understand that your wife frequented a rather louche artistic bohemia. Now that she is a married woman you have acquired a unique opportunity to place her feet on a more secure footing. I understand you have rejected the possibility of committing her to an asylum but want to give her another chance in the wider world. It is accordingly crucial that you not indulge her in useless analysis of who or what was at fault in her upbringing but encourage her to commit to a fresh new life, with you, where she submits to a healthful pattern which you will lay out for her.
LEONARD What you say makes a good deal of sense, but Virginia has always had her own ideas about everything. Her reading alone, even from childhood has been voluminous. I think I can say that she’s read everything and everybody.
DR CRAIG Now I think you are laying your finger on a much likelier culprit in your wife’s hysteria than the boyish behaviors of exuberantly boisterous, youthful males. Most women’s minds are simply not capable of absorbing and processing the histories and theories of men who lived in more pernicious times. As a Cambridge graduate you do not need me to point out which books might be especially dangerous. We may even disagree on which authors have a nihilist or even Bolshevik bent. But if you are committed to keeping your wife out of the asylum you must make it your life work to supervise your wife more closely in future. I understand there is family money?
LEONARD Some money. We will both need to seek employment.
DR CRAIG I think you will find your wife far too fragile for the hurly burly of economic exchange. These patients are frequently considered brilliant in conversation. But on inspection this seeming brilliancy will be found in large measure to be due to the unconventional nature of their chatter. Patients such as your wife are often considered more entertaining when ill than when in health for through loss of control they make remarks which the healthy would fear to utter. A sane person is inhibited in both speech and action. I think you must reconcile yourself to having a saner, healthier but possibly duller wife who partakes of a less unsettling society.
LEONARD But can it ever be right to subject an intelligent person to regimes designed for the mad?
DR CRAIG My dear sir, there is really no distinction between physical disease and mental disorder. Mrs. Woolf must learn to practice equanimity and you are the best judge of how to assist her in that course. In any given individual where nothing more than exaggerated and uncontrolled normal characteristics may constitute mental disorder, we realize how narrow is the margin between those whom we call the sane and the insane. You are her husband. Have faith in your power to exercise benevolent dominance. It is a husband’s obligation.
LEONARD But Virginia is so sensitive! I am concerned –
DR CRAIG I cannot suggest too strongly, my dear sir, that you focus more on your wife’s bowels than on her brains. Constipation is not only a common symptom of the insane, it is the rule rather than the exception. Another symptom which appears early and which stands out in strong relief, is hypersensitivity. To me this is the symptom of all symptoms which may occasion unsoundness of mind.
LEONARD Virginia becomes so excited when I approach her –
DR CRAIG I will prescribe Hyoscynamine. It is a wonderful relaxant which has given excellent results in quieting the most difficult patients.
VIRGINIA Go away, Leonard. I can’t bear to hear you lie to me.
LEONARD I’m not lying when I say I want you to get well more than anything I’ve ever wanted in my life.
VIRGINIA Don’t bother making me feel guilty, I already know I’m wasting your life. If only I weren’t so stupid a Mandrill, so unworthy of her poor, virtuous outsider Mongoose who is so thin, who trembles so much and who tries so hard. You have headaches too, you suffer from recurring malaria. Why should you toil so that I can be idle? I know these doctors’ bills are crushing us. Nessa sold the silver, I sold the jewelry, Thoby sold the Thackeray letters. What’s left, Leonard? Will you scheme with them to isolate me until there’s nothing left?
LEONARD I can earn money writing. I’ve proved that. You can earn money writing, you’ve proved that. But to get back in the fight we must be hardy and strong.
VIRGINIA I should never have married you. What kind of a wife can I ever be? Save yourself, Leonard. It’s too late for me. Let the wind blow, let the poppy seed itself, let the carnation mate with the cabbage. Let the swallow build her nest in the drawing room where the thistle thrusts between the tiles. Let all civilization be like broken china tangled over with blackberries and grass.
LEONARD That you demand so much of existence, still fighting as you sit among George’s flowers, shows you’re feeling better. What we must do is keep up the strengthening. A few more days, Virginia.
VIRGINIA But how can I return to you? There’s the undisputed fact of my sexual cowardice. Perhaps it’s really nothing but my terror of real life that keeps me in this nunnery. I tried telling my parents but they didn’t want to hear. Parents have forgotten their own childhood. Or they don’t want to remember.
LEONARD What did you try to tell them? You can say anything to me.
VIRGINIA I saw the spirits of evil as soon as I could speak, but because I was a girl child I was not supposed to know. Each child hugs its vice, brooding over the swollen vein, the bruised flesh that was white and sweet but yesterday.
LEONARD I told my parents that life is unquestionably vile and humanity’s nothing but an ant heap. Parents never want to hear that.
VIRGINIA That’s what I love about you, Leonard. You at least will speak the truth. Sometimes.
LEONARD It’s a fallacy to think that children are happy. They’re not. I never suffered so much as when I was a child. Children never forget injustice. But here is the heart of it, Virginia. What we write depends upon what we think. What “spirits of evil” did you see?
VIRGINIA Going to practice Dr. Head’s talking cure on me, are you? Is that the plan? I could make up a dozen stories – I see a dozen pictures. But when I open my mouth I am locked up and shut away. What is my true story? Something lies deeply buried. Shall I grasp it or let it mortify in the depths of my mind? I want to describe the world seen without a self. But I am afraid that there is no future. There are no words.
LEONARD There are words, and there is a future we shall make. Tell me. Tell me everything.
VIRGINIA When I was young, I dug furiously to uncover myself. When I discovered that I was me and not anyone else it seemed a wonderful achievement. Once I sat beside my stepsister Stella on roots as hard as skeletons, and the next day she was a skeleton. It’s strange how the dead leap out on us at street corners or in dreams. Don’t you remember that morning at breakfast when I saw my mother? You said she wasn’t there.
LEONARD I saw nothing.
VIRGINIA Cambridge educated everything but your eyes. What is the hope of talking to you? That was the morning was when I first became aware of the enemies who change but are always present; the forces we must fight even though we suffer terribly becoming separate bodies. Don’t you recognize the enemy advancing against us, pawing at his pavement? It is death. Death is the enemy.
LEONARD Marriage is the opposing force against death. A marriage of true minds can fight all enemies. Once upon a time we shared our thoughts, and fell in love. I needed someone who could hold her own, and there you were. You are the only wife I ever wanted, the only woman I have ever loved. Please, Virginia, I want you to come back to me.
VIRGINIA
(dazzled)
Oh to be a wife, to be wanted, would be so complete! Is it possible, Leonard, after the terrors, the disgusting dangers we have seen?
LEONARD If it isn’t I don’t want to live either.
(She holds out a hand to him. They clutch hands briefly)
VIRGINIA Sit down, Leonard. You look silly on your knees.
(She looks away. LEONARD sits)
VIRGINIA I used to make the family laugh. They thought me clever. But when I chased the evil spirits through a hole in the escallonia hedge, I resolved to tell the exact truth and write down the phenomena I’d seen. But no one believed me, and at that moment the laughter turned against me. I said, must not we find some way to get outside ourselves, to give our brains a wider scope? My parents declared God was dead and the world empty and meaningless. Father said to be weak is to be wretched. He said that Society is a ravenous appetite, and Nature is a state of war. You’ve laughed at me behind my back, I know you have. You, my own husband, want to get rid of me, to lock me up forever and steal my money.
LEONARD I love you, Virginia. Maybe it’s a bad thing to love you as much as I do – it cuts me off from the outside world. But the outside world is worthless and your world is so rich. When I went away to school for the first time I was shocked and appalled by the horrifying corruption of dirty-minded schoolboys. It marked me. Then I realized all of humanity are mean, nasty, untruthful, cowardly, and cruel. Perhaps I’ve been searching for a world that doesn’t exist.
VIRGINIA Perhaps we both have.
LEONARD If you will care for your health – if you will allow me to care for your health – you’ll recover. As you’ve recovered before.
VIRGINIA Nessa won’t rest till I’m brought low. When she was ill with typhoid Savage wanted to put her in a home but I backed her up! I told Savage I would care for her. Now look at what she’s done to me. You betrayed our secret, telling Nessa I’m a frigid failure as a wife. She told Clive and now everyone knows. They’re all laughing, jeering. plotting behind my back. You were sent to Ceylon to break the natives and now you’ve been sent to break me. I have been derided, insulted, sacrificed and betrayed, by all of you.
LEONARD Virginia, I am on your side. My eyes were opened in Ceylon. I was an anti-imperialist wallowing in the fleshpots of imperialism. But I changed. Now I support the independence movement with all my heart. All problems can be solved by science and logic, Virginia. It was I who was a failure as a husband. It was my marital duty to arouse you but you seemed so afraid of me. At my wit’s end, I asked your older sister for help.
VIRGINIA Does she offer lessons in humiliation? She knows how better than anyone. Is it my fault that I hate my legs being pried apart? I should never have married you, but I couldn’t bear to remain a spinster. I was struggling at everything, and you seemed so different. You said you liked women. You said you admired women’s minds.
LEONARD It’s true. Women feel more deeply, think more deeply, talk more deeply.
VIRGINIA Yet men demand obedience. You want me to obey you but I never will. You know nothing about me. Did you know that before I tried to die I read a book? Would you like to know which one?
LEONARD Which book did you read?
VIRGINIA It was your book. Your book that I read.
LEONARD My book?
VIRGINIA Your book about me.
LEONARD (a gratified author, in spite of everything)
You read The Wise Virgins? What did you think?
VIRGINIA So you admit it’s about me!
LEONARD Virginia, please. I’d love to discuss my book with you.
(She hesitates, turning away her face, then facing him with rage)
VIRGINIA
You locked me away so I’d never find out!
LEONARD You were ordered rest cures long before you met me! I don’t believe in guilt or blame. Honestly, I wanted you to read my book as soon as you were well.
VIRGINIA I won’t be stamped and stereotyped. You have publicly lampooned me as a frozen, dowdy, fussy, futile woman.
LEONARD Not true at all. I called you my Aspasia.
VIRGINIA “Cold and snowy, like the rocks.” You said.
LEONARD I’m a bad writer. I agree. I’ve got nothing of your genius. I can never explain what I really want to say. If it’s any comfort to you no one else likes or understands it either. Sales are awful. All I was attempting to do was contrast the world of a poor Jew from Putney with the rarified aristocratic Olympus for which he yearns.
VIRGINIA You hold my world in contempt because you can never be a gentleman.
LEONARD Virginia, you hold “your world” in contempt.
VIRGINIA And then the hero marries the other girl. The stupid, cow-eyed one! It’s a betrayal.
LEONARD It’s just a bad novel, I’ll give you that. Don’t laugh at me. Not everyone is born with your gifts. Consider my perspective. Any rational mind must inevitably face disillusion and depression. I tried to show how poor Harry just couldn’t escape his past. He couldn’t but I think we can. I probably shouldn’t have published it but Arnold was willing and I couldn’t bear to waste all that work and all that suffering.
VIRGINIA What can you, a prizewinning Apostle from Cambridge, an imperialist potentate of a subject country, possibly know of real suffering?
LEONARD Virginia, I’m a Jew from Putney. All my life I’ve been spat upon. Job is the only book of the Bible I ever understood. Who ridiculed who first? I trained myself to avoid personal feeling. Admit you despised me. Your set. You made me into a joke.
VIRGINIA My set despises everyone. That’s what we do. It’s self-defense, from growing up amongst the most monumental hypocrites.
LEONARD You despised me personally. Be honest. You hated kissing me. You could barely bring yourself to marry me.
VIRGINIA But I did it, didn’t I!
LEONARD You wanted to shock them. You were competing with Nessa to see who could be most scandalous.
VIRGINIA I wouldn’t dare compete with Nessa. Competition is a male thing. It’s a brutal, endless game. I think all competition should be abolished.
LEONARD But it’s all you ever do! Your flirtation with her husband –
VIRGINIA (cringes visibly)
Oh God, not that. Somehow that memory turns a knife in me more than anything. How it catches at me, the fangs of that old pain. I know I lost Vanessa forever. She will never forgive me. I simply couldn’t comprehend why she married such a strange, intolerable creature with his twitching pink skin and a jerky laugh. Before Clive, Nessa and I drifted together on a sea of seducing half-brothers, hiding together beneath the dining room table. We spoke a special animal language.
LEONARD But you were no longer children. Vanessa waited till twenty-eight to marry.
VIRGINIA Who would willingly grow up? I never wanted to. As soon as you’re pushed out of the nursery, the happy moments vanish. Vanessa was the bowl of golden water that brims but never overflows. I lie prostrate at her shrine and still she won’t forgive me. When she brought home friends from the Slade they laughed at me behind the door. You can’t think what it feels like, having one’s self so thoroughly extinguished.
LEONARD I do know it. That was my exact experience at both St. Paul’s and Cambridge. St. Paul’s was a disgusting brothel, but at Trinity I met G. E. Moore. He taught me how to ask the important questions.
VIRGINIA
And what are the important questions?
LEONARD The most important question is why. Why can’t Vanessa forgive a mere flirtation? She must know by now that Clive sets out to bed every woman he meets. You at least resisted him.
VIRGINIA But I did wrong. Clive and I made common cause against my sister, his own wife. Some things should be sacred.
LEONARD
Wasn’t it true that he respected your intellectual work more than he could ever appreciate Vanessa’s daubs?
VIRGINIA Leonard! How can you!
LEONARD
If it’s the truth, shouldn’t we say so?
VIRGINIA
I tried speaking the truth, yet here I am locked up among the imbeciles. And weren’t we just arguing whether all imbeciles should be killed?
LEONARD You’re hardly “locked up with the imbeciles” at Dalingridge Hall!
VIRGINIA You’re wrong. In this castle beats the very heart of idiocy and evil. Aren’t you the one who said the most dangerous imbeciles are running the nation? Here I am at home among the hunters, where the miner sweats and dies and maiden faith is rudely strumpeted.
LEONARD But you used to love George! He told me you’d make an adorable wife.
VIRGINIA Perhaps I’ve been given too much time to think. Get a sense of proportion, the doctors keep telling me. So now I stare for the first time into the very mouth of doom. Look your last on all things lovely.
LEONARD Virginia, if you don’t want to be called crazy, you really must explain yourself. Whatever do you mean?
VIRGINIA George behaved little better than a brute. He never let me alone for a moment. That he was the pet of duchesses hardly excuses him. And yet it was Gerald who broke my hymen, when I was six years old. It’s a painful process. and now I freeze like ice. Give up on me, Leonard, there’s no awakening the dead. I’m ruined by incest, I’ve even desired my own sister. I’m locked up because I stew in murder, just as Laura did. I long to slice Gerald’s fat, transparent flesh, to take a rifle and shoot George directly in his smug, piggy face. Or could I bag him with a net and killing bottle? And why shouldn’t I turn on my tormentors? I suffered, I was helpless, why should I be the one forced to writhe with shame? I longed to be petted but instead was trapped in a cage with lions as sulky and angry as they were ferocious. I’m just a little monkey and little monkeys are too easily squashed and trampled. It’s too late for me, Leonard. My body is spoiled forever by George and Gerald.
LEONARD (shocked)
George? Gerald? These are pillars of society, your own half-brothers! It’s so unbelievable.
VIRGINIA George drowned us in kisses, me and Vanessa. Each kiss was an amputation. I used to sign my work, “One of the Drowned.” Oh, those horrible parties! The oppressive gatherings of Stephenses ground one to a pulp. Because I wanted to discuss Plato I was told I had no conversation. George was so angry! After I removed my ball gown and stripped off my gloves and stockings, he would come into my room and lock the door.
LEONARD But how can any of this be true? How could nobody have noticed it?
VIRGINIA Everyone did notice it. People contrive to bend it to the conventional heroic shape because he kept insisting on the purity of his love. I saw him kissing Countess Carnarvon behind a pillar at the opera! And now she’s his mother-in-law. I asked to join the British Sex Society, dedicated to the study of parent/child incest, but they wouldn’t let me in. Now that you know, you’ll have to spit in George’s face at the club.
LEONARD We don’t belong to the same clubs.
VIRGINIA Then when you thank him for this execrable house, challenge him to a duel. Will he at least feel some regret? Will he take the pigeon gun and blast himself instead? Then the aristocracy will hate me because it’s all my fault. Yet is it not a noble work, letting light in upon the evil Duckworths? Probably he’ll feel nothing. Possibly some vague imbalance.
LEONARD Let’s try to be objective, Virginia.
VIRGINIA If only I could! What a luxury that would be! How I hunger for the objectivity of beloved Macaulay or the stern analysis of cherished Carlyle. Lockhart’s ten volume Life of Scott was the best present I ever received. Reading relieves all my pain, but they won’t let me read anything here. In spite of them I’m continuing to learn. Only life itself matters, nothing but life – and the process of discovery, the everlasting perpetual process, and not the thing itself at all.
LEONARD
Virginia, I am speechless.
VIRGINIA
Now you know how it feels. I used to think it would be enough to have someone share my loneliness. But if no one believes me, the solitude is total. The Duckworths are guilty of nameless atrocities, and you’re complicit. You locked me away here, so I couldn’t speak. As soon as I open my mouth they try to destroy me. It’s a conspiracy of hush.
LEONARD If this is something you’ve only just remembered how can it possibly be true? It sounds mad.
VIRGINIA I don’t think memory is always at the forefront, Leonard. There’s only so much a human being can bear. Memory comes and goes. One requires tools to think with, to make sense of one’s experience, and these tools are alternately dull and sharp.
LEONARD Well, there are some things no one wants to think about.
VIRGINIA It’s clearer in my mind than the bad, stodgy meal I was force-fed yesterday. Our summer place at St. Ives, in the dining room; I must have been six years old. Eighteen-year-old Gerald lifted me up to a high ledge and explored my private parts. I fought and I struggled but I couldn’t get away. I could see his face in the dining room mirror. It was the face of a demon. I’ve seen that face since, on the drooling men who expose themselves in the park. Now I no longer look in mirrors. I can’t cross a puddle. The depth looks back at me, concealing malicious, hairy arms to reach out and grab. I can’t go forward, I am stuck in the loop of the six, no power even to lift my legs.
LEONARD The loop of the six? I don’t understand.
VIRGINIA
I was learning numbers. Six was my number. But I couldn’t close the loop.
LEONARD
This was Gerald you say? But Gerald is your publisher!
VIRGINIA I know! If I am not a madwoman, then the world itself is mad. What was I to do? I wrote a book and my incestuous brother was a publisher! Who else would even look at my work? When I delivered my manuscript to Gerald I was in such acute despair – so near the precipice!
LEONARD Did you tell anyone?
VIRGINIA I told Nessa and she told Dr. Savage. Who is an idiot, as you well know.
LEONARD I can’t believe it. Gerald seems so – so – well, ordinary. So completely controlled.
VIRGINIA Get out of here! I’m sorry I told you. I wish I was dead!
(She is tearing at her own throat – he rushes forward to hold her hands down, lifting her body out of the chair)
The use of force is all you know!
LEONARD Virginia, I love you.
(He kisses her neck, she becomes a dead weight. He lowers her carefully into the chair, arranges a blanket on her knees)
VIRGINIA When you touch me, I feel nothing. My body goes dead. That’s how I froze when George came into my room, night after night.
LEONARD Oh, Beloved!
VIRGINIA Don’t. He called me that. I don’t want to be loved, I want to be believed.
(Lights up on Hamptons cottage, as before. WHITNEY assaults the door.)
WHITNEY Charmayne!! Charmayne!!
(Her stepmother opens the door. Slower, less confident; accusatory)
CHARMAYNE You’ve been avoiding me, Whitney. Why haven’t you returned my calls? I thought we were besties.
WHITNEY I wanted to bring you something.
CHARMAYNE (Haughty, but momentarily excited in spite of herself)
And what could you possibly give the woman who has everything?
WHITNEY Just this.
(Tenders a bullet)
CHARMAYNE Ooooo, scary! And what’s this supposed to represent?
WHITNEY It’s a bullet, Charmayne. It matches the bullets in your gun, the bullets all over this beach and the bullets in your stepfather.
CHARMAYNE My stepfather!
WHITNEY Yup. I’ve been to visit his grave.
CHARMAYNE Well, thank you for this –
(Mockingly, as she throws it out to sea)
I was never was two-faced as you, Whitney. My stepfather – who’s in hell, as you very well know from the personal, confidential disclosures that I made to you during a Girls Night Out – doesn’t have a grave. Anyway, nobody cares about that old stuff anymore.
WHITNEY There’s no statute of limitations on murder.
CHARMAYNE (Tries to grab her)
Statute! Limitations! Whit, do you need cash to go to law school?
WHITNEY (Evading her neatly)
It’s time to answer for what you’ve done.
(CHARMAYNE walks past her towards the ocean – crossed arms, thinking)
CHARMAYNE Your father wouldn’t want this.
WHITNEY I’m not doing it for him. I’m doing it for me.
CHARMAYNE This feels so odd. It’s not what I expected, at all. You never fail to surprise me, Whitney. Your enmity is so flattering. I feel… courted.
(Turns around to face WHITNEY, back in control)
So you think you know everything about me now?
WHITNEY I know all I need to know. For example, that you’re wondering right now whether it’s worth your while to get rid of me. Whether I have a partner in my researches who knows everything I’m doing. And the answer is yes.
CHARMAYNE I was not wondering how to get rid of you, Whitney! As if! I couldn’t get rid of you if I tried. You’re one of the Immortals.
WHITNEY Am I supposed to know what that is?
CHARMAYNE We Immortals have been here since time immemorial. We recognize each other. We are transformable, but essentially indestructible.
WHITNEY Wow, that’s so comforting. Lucky for us! And now it’s time for my second gift. I’m going to tell your fortune.
(Sits at the patio set table and starts shuffling cards)
CHARMAYNE (Approaching nervously, interested in spite of herself)
You can’t tell my fortune.
WHITNEY I’m the only one who can.
CHARMAYNE But that’s not my deck. So you can’t use it.
WHITNEY No. It’s my deck. You have to play the cards the goddess deals, right? Sit down. First, I’ll tell you your past.
(Produces a card – Hermit leaps up on the screen. Cards seemingly tremble, shimmer in the air) Recognize him?
(CHARMAYNE sits down)
CHARMAYNE It’s the Hermit.
WHITNEY There he is, with his broom and his light. Don’t you recognize him?
CHARMAYNE That’s a staff.
WHITNEY It’s a broom. It’s holding him up more than he’s holding it up. I saw him. I spoke to him. Mr. Butterbatch.
CHARMAYNE (Sounds delighted)
Old Butterbatch! Is HE still ticking! I can scarcely believe it – he was a hundred when I knew him. How is the old geezer?
WHITNEY Fine and dandy. I must say he remembers you very well, Destiny. He told me all about how the police have been longing to find the source of the female DNA all over the frog gigger they found sticking out of Burt’s throat. You must have cut yourself! Imagine that! Probably just a little nick. How would you even have noticed it, when there was so much blood?
CHARMAYNE Burt was vile, Whitney. Vile. Anyone would have done it. He needed to be put down.
WHITNEY Maybe, Charmayne. Who can judge? O, right, this guy! Justice!
(Tarot card leaps up to screen and trembles in the air)
CHARMAYNE Justice is female, Whitney. But I have faith in you. You’ll figure it out.
WHITNEY Must be where the phrase “stings like a bitch” comes from. And see that box she’s sitting on? That’s the box they’re going to put you in.
CHARMAYNE No one’s putting me in a box. Never.
WHITNEY Oh, they’re going to put you in a box, Charmayne. They’re going to put you in a series of boxes, like some kind of dangerous Matrushka doll. That’s three separate states you’ve unleashed mayhem in and they’re all going to want a crack at you. And who’s this? The Lovers!
(Tarot card onscreen)
There’s your girlfriend, Charmayne Carr. You must have known the cards would turn on you someday, Charmayne. Why don’t you just tell her family where you stashed that body? The prosecutor’s going to get it out of you, one way or another. After a few weeks of instant mashed potato mix, egg substitute, baloney and wonderbread you’ll tell them anything they want to know.
CHARMAYNE (Mocking) Shows what you know! I wonder if your much-vaunted “classical education” isn’t a pair of distortion goggles after all. Dr Carr’s family rejected her and she never gave a damn for any of them! She was free of all that. And for your information, the Lovers was never was her card. She was the Empress.
WHITNEY You said you weren’t two-faced like me, Charmayne. But you were careful, weren’t you? Did you give her the honor of confronting her the way I’m confronting you now or did wait until her back was turned?
CHARMAYNE She gave me her life! She was longing for me to absorb her! It was her free choice, one I wouldn’t expect you to understand. I was an Immortal! She recognized it and she yielded.
WHITNEY Sure, sure. That’s what always happens. The fish throws himself into the boat to save you from spearing it. Tell yourself anything that lets you sleep at night. Oh, wait, you can’t sleep, can you? It’s starting to show on your face.
(CHARMAYNE stands up and turns away, touching her face)
CHARMAYNE That was just mean, Whitney. That was uncalled for.
(WHITNEY produces another Tarot card – it leaps to the screen and shimmers in the air) Who’s this? An Emperor with the long white beard! Who can that be, I wonder!
CHARMAYNE (Turned away from the card, forces herself to sit down, put her feet up and make a show of relaxing)
Let me guess. A certain cardiac surgeon of our acquaintance?
WHITNEY Thoracic.
CHARMAYNE Thoracic surgeon. Now we get within sight of your real problem, Whitney, the real fountain of your rage. Your father was such a charming man, even in extreme old age. The Lady of Life met the Lord of Death: it was just the way he wanted it, it had to happen. He was so touchingly eager to enrich me, to pass along his acquisitions. You’re just jealous because he found a new pupil.
WHITNEY You thanked him by killing him!
CHARMAYNE I did reward him, Whitney. Your father was suffering. He begged me to put him out of his misery. Would you like me to summon him from the grave so you can ask him? You’ll see I’m right! I think from the first moment our eyes met in the job interview he knew I was the only one who could get the job done exactly the way he wanted. He begged me for that extra dose of morphine. Having a body became a torment to him. He could no longer enjoy anything.
WHITNEY As your body will torment you, while you rot away in jail. But at least somebody will get to enjoy it – whatever bullies or “Immortals” you’re lucky – or unlucky enough to run into. They’ll pass you around like a pizza.
CHARMAYNE (Snatches her feet off the table) I’m not going to jail, silly Whitney! Not ever! I served my time!
WHITNEY (Pulling herself forcibly together she produces another card – Judgment on screen – hugely vibrating )
Sorry, Pearleen – or whoever you are this week – childhood doesn’t count. Now here’s a lady you’ve never met. She showed me your stepfather’s grave.
CHARMAYNE (Labored change of tactics)
I like this new you, Whitney. So forceful, so ablaze.
(Pretends to shiver)
It’s so sexy. Pity it’s all wasted, that you’ve been so misled. Judgment is not the card you’ve been looking for all your life.
(Picks it up and sends it spinning – onscreen card – which she avoids looking at – seems to swell)
WHITNEY But this is the one card we have in common. The lady who tends your stepfather’s grave – saving it for the investigators – she brandished a trumpet and everything. Looks like the goddess has given up on you, Charmayne.
CHARMAYNE Nice try, but my stepfather doesn’t have a grave. He didn’t deserve one.
WHITNEY Yeah, he does, and I took a picture of it. See?
(Shows her phone)
The Hidden Glade developers found him when they paved over Dead Lake and they treated him to a nice box of his very own. There he is, just waiting for someone to find a match to those bullets.
(She pulls a bullet from a chain around her neck)
This bullet, for example. I chose it from the many bullets you’ve sprayed around this beach. You’ll never find them all.
CHARMAYNE (Crossed arms) I never transitioned anyone that didn’t want it or deserve it.
WHITNEY Transition! Now there’s a word! But the law doesn’t respect your private language, you know. They have a language all their own. You killed Charmayne Carr to steal her identity. You killed my father to get rich. You killed the night manager to steal his stash. You killed your stepfather to steal his wheels and run away.
CHARMAYNE (Firing up immediately)
None of that is true and you of all people –
WHITNEY That’s what they’ll say. I’m just trying to prepare you. That’s what prosecutors always say, based on what they can prove. It’s worst case scenario right at the beginning, Pearleen, so prepare yourself. I’m sure your oh-so-expensive defense attorney will explain to them about your “Immortals” theory. That’ll sound good to the jury. Or maybe he’ll just give up and plead insanity. Possibly you should represent yourself in court – after you’ve had all that plastic surgery you’ve been thinking about.
CHARMAYNE I ‘m not bothering with the law, Whitney. Don’t you see that the law’s a charade? A puppet dance for marionettes? I was greedy for life, Whitney. For ecstasy, for joy. For experiences and possessions, so I took them. I’m not ashamed. I’ve had everything I ever wanted.
WHITNEY Then isn’t it time?
CHARMAYNE For what?
WHITNEY To give up.
CHARMAYNE I’ll never give up!
WHITNEY (Produces a final card)
Because here’s your future. The Hanged Man. He sees the world upside down. And it’s the last thing he sees.
(Card onscreen)
CHARMAYNE You’re young, Whitney. Nothing wrong with that! You know nothing about the real world, by which I mean the invisible world that pulses beneath the visible. Your father kept you from it with that “classical education”. You need to take your time figuring out who – and what you really are. I could help you. We could share all this.
WHITNEY No.
(Throws a card at her – Death appears onscreen)
Death, Charmayne. That’s your future. Your future is Death.
CHARMAYNE (Upends the table, scattering everything – rises from her chair)
I can’t die. It won’t happen. Didn’t I explain it to you? Listen, Whitney. We make our own reality. You’re my mirror.
WHITNEY I’m your parabolic mirror, sent to fry you to a crisp.
CHARMAYNE Don’t say it like that. What if I admit you’ve won? Here, take the dagger. Now you’re the new Queen of Swords.
WHITNEY Someone told me never to “settle”.
CHARMAYNE (Kneeling beside her)
It’s breaking my heart that I can’t explain this to you.
WHITNEY Don’t kid yourself, Destiny. A heart was one of the encumbrances you left behind.
CHARMAYNE Is this what love feels like? I’m not used to wanting things I can’t have.
WHITNEY You just tried to convince me you’re immortal, you’ll never talk me into thinking you’re human!
CHARMAYNE It’s so strange! You feel about me the way I thought about them. Murder kills feeling. And if you can’t feel, you can’t enjoy. If you can’t enjoy, you might as well be dead.
WHITNEY I guess there’s a limit to everything, and you’ve reached yours.
CHARMAYNE (Turns to face the audience)
Maybe it is my time to find out my next stage. I’ve always wondered who I really am. Your father called me a “living doll,” Burt said I was cold as ice, the Empress named me “the marble-hearted”. My step-dad said I wasn’t a little girl, I was a cockroach like him.
(Touches WHITNEY)
Help me.
WHITNEY I’m helping you to see that it’s the end. You’ve had a good run, but it’s over.
CHARMAYNE You don’t even know what you’re rejecting! Let me show you what you’re missing –
(Tries to embrace WHITNEY who pushes her away)
WHITNEY (Roughly)
You’re not my type.
CHARMAYNE Isn’t there anything I can give you to change your mind? Think, Whitney. Aren’t I the only person in the universe who really understands you? Sees you for what you are?
WHITNEY Actually, you aren’t. But there is something you can give me.
CHARMAYNE (Such relief)
What? Anything! Name it.
WHITNEY I want you to prove your immortality.
(Points out to the audience)
Swim out there. Keep swimming. And don’t come back.
CHARMAYNE Are you sure that’s what you really want?
WHITNEY (Gesturing)
Challenge your Goddess to a swimming match. Be my guest. Bye-bye.
CHARMAYNE A swim? That’s all you want? When I am willing to share everything? All the secrets?
WHITNEY A swim to eternity. That’s all that I want.
CHARMAYNE (Brittle laugh)
You can see me naked any time, Whitney. No need to go through all this.
WHITNEY Just swim. I don’t care how.
CHARMAYNE But it’s freezing!
WHITNEY You swim here every night.
CHARMAYNE But the weather’s changed. It’s gone dark and cold. Still, they say beyond the water lies a place where all waters part. I could re-invent myself.
(Looking out)
So once again I’m the initiate, am I? It’s funny how things come around.
(Comes closer peering way, way out beyond the audience’s eyes.)
I wonder what’s out there. A little tequila before I go? For old time’s sake?
WHITNEY You’ve had all the tequila. Go.
(WHITNEY’S implacable so CHARMAYNE starts undressing.)
CHARMAYNE Look at my beautiful body, Whit. Won’t it be a shame to waste it?
WHITNEY Stop begging and save your strength.
CHARMAYNE (Insulted)
Begging? Is that what you think I’m doing?
(To herself)
The Empress told me that to find your dominant was heaven. I see it now. You’re the goddess who can never be denied.
(Bows at her feet – WHITNEY steps away in agitation)
WHITNEY Stuff it. Soft soap won’t work on me. I’ve never had it and I don’t want it. Your goddess is out there. Go find her.
CHARMAYNE (Kicking her clothes away)
This is all so different from what I imagined. I’m so different. It’s the ultimate surprise.
WHITNEY You may have more surprises waiting just around the corner.
CHARMAYNE I can feel myself getting younger. Like a child, begging for that one last story before lights out! Who knew after all this time that sacrifice – that giving up my strength would prove to be the missing fountain of youth! Will the Goddess reveal herself to me unveiled? Whose face will she wear, I wonder?
(Shivers)
WHITNEY You knew this was coming! You had to know!
CHARMAYNE I thought if my past ever caught up to me I’d…be destroyed. Disemboweled like the Hanging Man. Poison. The asp. Who knew it would feel so sweet? Relief.
WHITNEY (Somewhat shaken)
More cons.
CHARMAYNE What relief to concentrate on the physical challenge ahead. Oh, the blessing of the physical!
(Steps into the “water”, clutching her arms.)
There was always another freedom, right around the corner. What new thing comes next? Freedom’s the lover I pursued all my life, and still she evades me. There’s always a greater freedom… somewhere.
(Steps down into the audience. Swimming)
Suddenly I feel so shy. It’s like being thirteen again. If my stepfather had never existed, who would I have become?
WHITNEY (Coming down to the water to watch)
Maybe you’ll find out.
CHARMAYNE The Empress recommended surrender. She said it felt so good! They all told me…or tried to tell me. Who could predict that Death would come to me as a beautiful young woman?
(Breaststroke)
Is this right? Am I doing it right?
(WHITNEY gestures “farther out”. CHARMAYNE blows her a kiss.)
Goodbye, my nemesis.
(Faces outwards.)
Hello, Virginity!
(Swims away through the audience. Exit.)
(WHITNEY drops her “Judgment” pose, leaps to her feet, paces up and down the beach, peering out to sea. Increasingly anxious. Enter EIGHT to stand behind her and put his arms around her. She shakes him loose. Pacing.)
EIGHT Is she gone?
WHITNEY
I’ll never know! I thought it was all an act! I never thought it would work! She can’t be gone if I don’t feel she’s gone, can she? I’m so scared she injected herself inside me, like a brainworm! Am I a murderer now, too?
(Calls loudly)
Wait, wait! I’ve changed my mind! Come back! Let’s talk!
(EIGHT tries to calm her, she collapses into bitter weeping.)
EIGHT You’re acting like you lost your best friend. Don’t forget she was your bitterest enemy. She was the world’s enemy.
WHITNEY You confused her with your demon, but she was my demon.
(Shaking her head)
No, no. It was over too fast. What did I say? I blurted out a bunch of lies, just like she did. I had to turn myself into her in order to catch her! What if I can’t change back? I did everything wrong.
EIGHT (Hugs her)
Don’t be so hard on yourself. You’re decompressing. You were in an impossible situation. It worked! You did everything right.
WHITNEY But I miss her. Now I have nothing. No offense, but now I have nobody.
EIGHT No offense taken. You’re just feeling the emptiness where the anger used to be. Let it melt away. Of course it’s going to hurt. There’s a whole wide world out there and it needs you. The universe is full of treasure.
WHITNEY Didn’t I tell you I hate it when you talk about treasure?
EIGHT No. Sorry. Maybe I need a new expression.
WHITNEY I need a lot of new expressions. New words. I need a whole new language.
EIGHT It’s out there, Whitney. When you can’t manage forgiveness, just let go.
WHITNEY That’s what she said! It’s myself I can’t forgive.
EIGHT It takes awhile. You’ll figure it out. It’s like being born all over again. I have faith in you.
WHITNEY She said that too!
EIGHT She doesn’t own ideas, Whitney. She doesn’t own emotions, or the past, or even the future. She used those things as camouflage for her greed. For her appetites. Come. Walk with me.
WHITNEY No. No. I can’t leave. She might come back. You’re just trying to re-make me in your image.
EIGHT Absolutely not. The thing I like most about you is, you’re not me. Take your time, Whitney. This is your chance to be you. You’re telling your own fortune, now.
WHITNEY (Looking out over the ocean)
If I’m telling my own fortune I might as well give myself a really good one. Do you think she’s really gone?
EIGHT She’s less than nothing now. Hold my hand.
(Touching her)
You’re cold. Don’t you want to go inside?
WHITNEY No. I have to stay right here. For awhile.
(Sits down.)
In case she comes back. She might come back. Will you wait with me? At least till dark? Or till I get used to missing her? There were so many things I forgot to say.
EIGHT Rehearse them. Tell them all to me. I’m here.
(Sits beside her, they clutch hands, staring out into the audience. Lights out)
(Lights up on – Graveyard with sign, DEAD LAKE CEMETERY. WHITNEY approaches to read a stone aloud)
WHITNEY “John Doe – a friendless stranger. The Lord will recognize His own”.
(Enter a grave-tending woman, MRS DAVISH with basket of gardening tools and wheeled cart of plants.)
MRS. DAVISH Did you know that poor lost soul?
WHITNEY Looks like nobody knew him.
MRS. DAVISH (Pulls an ear trumpet off her cart and holds it to her head) What’s that you say? Speak up.
WHITNEY A trumpet!
MRS. DAVISH Just funning with you! My hearing’s perfect.
(Tosses the trumpet back on the cart.)
You wouldn’t believe the things people leave on graves around here. And the signs say, Plants Only. Trust me, Great Grampster hears fine in heaven. Care to purchase a remembrance for this grave? It would be very thoughtful of you.
WHITNEY I’m not sure he’s the right one. Is he the only John Doe you’ve got?
MRS. DAVISH He’s the only one. Usually people no one can identify go straight to paupers’ field. But the Hidden Glade developers paid for this poor gentleman.
WHITNEY Why would they?
MRS. DAVISH Maybe ‘cause they’re the ones that disturbed his peace by digging him up. But they didn’t bother to buy the perpetual care — that is rarer than hen’s teeth… They do say nothing is perpetual but my fond fancy… Look, I could just give you some flowers if you’re not too particular.
(Rummages in her cart)
WHITNEY Nothing for me, thank you. Doesn’t he ever get … remembrances?
MRS. DAVISH Never. Poor lost soul. Anything that’s ever been on that grave, I’ve put there myself.
WHITNEY Well, that’s peculiar, don’t you think?
MRS. DAVISH Not in the least. It’s the rule, really. You’d be surprised. No one speaks for the dead.
WHITNEY But when you want to speak up for them, it seems like they object.
MRS. DAVISH (Smiles at her)
Some of them can get a little noisy.
WHITNEY So how long have you been working here?
MRS. DAVISH Oh! Thirty years. Thirty-five years, off and on. My grandmother brought me every Sunday. You could call it a ritual. You’re welcome to try breaking out of long-established rituals – but it can’t be done.
WHITNEY Glad I found you. Seems lately I owe everything to people living in the past. So this man was buried by the Dead Lake developers, eh?
MRS. DAVISH Sssh. They don’t like the connection to anything “dead”. Hidden Glade, it’s called these days. Yup, a backhoe tossed this man up and out like a ragdoll!
WHITNEY But where’d they find him?
MRS. DAVISH Heavens, I don’t know! You never saw such a frenzy of obfuscation! One of those houses around the lake they bulldozed is all I know. There’s no fact-getting at this late date.
(WHITNEY looks depressed – MRS DAVISH leans to stage whisper)
But they did have to call the cops!
(Sage nodding. WHITNEY perks up)
WHITNEY And why’s that?
MRS. DAVISH (Leans forward to whisper)
He was as full of lead as a shad full of roe! They took some out and left the other ones inside!
(Pats tombstone lovingly)
Died of “heavy metal” poisoning, poor old thing.
WHITNEY Wow! Not a popular guy.
MRS. DAVISH Either that, or he was far too popular to suit somebody.
(They laugh)
WHITNEY But couldn’t they tell what house he came from?
MRS. DAVISH I’m telling you they didn’t want to know! Tenants had been pushed out and disappeared long before.
(Pulls down an eyelid)
There’s none so blind as those who will not see.
WHITNEY I guess ancient corpses full of bullets are pretty blind, too.
MRS. DAVISH True, true. Who wants to buy a property that had a murder on it? Who signs up for a haunting? Said they owed it to the shareholders to hush things up. But truth is the daughter of time, not of authority, says the poet.
WHITNEY Surely somebody checked for missing people!
MRS. DAVISH Oh naturally. Naturally. But nobody was missing! Everyone accounted for. He was some poor stranger.
WHITNEY So maybe it was a “good riddance” situation.
MRS. DAVISH Most likely.
WHITNEY (Jubilant) Under the circumstances, then, I’d like to buy some flowers.
MRS. DAVISH The pinks are magnificent this time of year. Or acacia. Means “Secret love” in the language of flowers, not that anyone tries speaking that no more. But for those of us in the know, it lends a little added pleasure. Got some beautiful violets just coming into bloom.
WHITNEY The language of flowers, eh? So what do violets mean?
MRS. DAVISH Faithful love.
(Quoting)
“The faithful shall be rewarded,” that’s what the violets say.
(On the beach. Door in the house opens and CHARMAYNE, wearing only a filmy cover-up over her bikini, steps out exultantly to spread her arms to the moon)
CHARMAYNE Moon, Mother-Sister-Goddess, whose tears fertilize the world, I seek permission to penetrate your veil.
WHITNEY (Awkwardly standing) Er – Char –
CHARMAYNE Oh, my God, Whitney! You scared the life out of me. What are you doing here?
WHITNEY Sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you.
CHARMAYNE (Insulted)
I’m surprised, that’s all. You’re never here this late. Should I be flattered? What have you got there?
(WHITNEY proffers the bottle.)
WHITNEY I was trying to get up the nerve to speak to you.
CHARMAYNE Tequila?
(Laughs.)
WHITNEY It’s my drink. Want some?
CHARMAYNE Why couldn’t you just come to the door?
WHITNEY You were…with someone.
CHARMAYNE (Burbling laughter)
Ramon’s gone, you must have heard the television! Don’t be jealous of the television. You’re adorable! Give me some of that.
(Seats herself comfortably and takes the bottle)
WHITNEY Sorry I don’t have any cups.
CHARMAYNE Oh. Whitney, I’m the Queen of Cups, didn’t you know?
(Laughs and drinks)
Queen of bottles, too. So what did you want to talk to me about?
WHITNEY I wanted to ask your advice on something.
(Making it up on the spur of the moment)
I’ve got a problem at college, and you know all about men. My advisor is…handsy.
CHARMAYNE Handsy! There’s an expression I haven’t heard for awhile.
WHITNEY (Inspired) He’s a real – Casper the Grasper. He always pretends it’s a joke or a mistake. I don’t know what to do. He’s the head of the department. If I complain –
CHARMAYNE Never complain, Whit. Never settle. We’re better than that. You need to get even. Trust me, that’s where all the real satisfaction is.
(Takes another swig – offers it to WHITNEY who pretends to drink)
This is so much fun! I was yearning for a Girls Night Out!
(Puts her arm through WHITNEY’S)
This may amaze you, but I get lonely too. It’s a well-kept secret life can be lonely at the top. Finding my equal just gets harder and harder.
WHITNEY There’s Ramon –
CHARMAYNE Oh, please! Ramon’s just an employee and he knows it. Men! Even well-trained men are…a limited indulgence. And there’s one thing they can’t ever get right.
(Smacks WHITNEY’S thigh as she cuddles up to her)
This part.
(EIGHT looks over the boulder. WHITNEY seems emboldened by his presence)
WHITNEY So have you ever done it? Gotten even?
CHARMAYNE (Bragging)
I always get even. Nobody messes with me twice.
(Swig. She’s not even sharing the bottle anymore)
WHITNEY (Settling down for a story)
Tell me about it.
CHARMAYNE You’ll have to take off your clothes first.
(Uncomfortable moment. WHITNEY pulls away.)
Did you think offering me a drink would be enough to get me to unburden?
WHITNEY What are you talking about?
CHARMAYNE I need to know you’re not recording me, silly girl. I’ve been blackmailed by pros. What happens on Girls Night Out stays on Girls Night Out. Hos before bros. Come on. Hurry it up. Look at me, I’m not wearing anything.
WHITNEY (Peels down to her underwear)
Believe me, I’m not “recording” anything.
CHARMAYNE That’s what they all say. Knowledge backfires in the hands of the novice. Turn around. Let me look. Phone turned off?
(She runs her hand thru bra & panties)
You know what? I believe you. You couldn’t lie to save your soul. And you’re the most awful blusher, has anybody ever told you that? You blush with your whole body!
WHITNEY (Blushing)
I’m aware.
CHARMAYNE Lucky for you. People automatically trust blushers because blushing’s involuntary.
WHITNEY People trust me because they know I care about the truth.
CHARMAYNE Oh, bullshit! The truth! The Sacred Truth! There’s no such thing! There’s what happened and there’s what we think happened – who can tell the difference? OK, sit down. Take a load off. Have a drink to loosen you up.
(WHITNEY pretends to drink)
You’ve got a good body, you know that? Nice and hard. Lovely tone. You’re lacking a waist, that’s all. You inherited your father’s physique as well as his brains. It’s all about pluses and minuses. You have to work against the minuses. Men are prejudiced against waistless girls because their hard wiring makes them suckers for a certain waist to hip proportion. Did you know that? But we don’t care about them, do we? Who needs them? Prisoners of their reflexes! Born to mate! Man proposes, the goddess disposes!
WHITNEY Charmayne, you turn every conversation into a Whitney – critiqueathon. Why’s that?
CHARMAYNE Because you interest me, little Whit. You interest me extremely. You’re smart. The way your father was … at first.
WHITNEY (Refusing to be drawn. Grits her teeth to get through this.)
Please don’t talk about him. And don’t tell me to make myself gorgeous for Casper the Grasper.
CHARMAYNE Listen, if you were gorgeous he wouldn’t have the nerve to touch you.
WHITNEY I think the beautiful get harassed, too.
CHARMAYNE But they have more options. They can –
WHITNEY I want to hear about you. Tell me about that time that you got even.
CHARMAYNE (Very expansive)
There are so many! But let’s start at the beginning. Here’s something you didn’t know about me. I had a stepfather. You may complain about me, but the problem with you, Whit, is that you always take your good luck for granted. I never take anything for granted. I’m a day at the beach compared to that guy. Talk about “handsy”!
WHITNEY (Pretending to drink, then surrendering the bottle)
So what was he like?
CHARMAYNE What was he like? He was a monster, that’s what he was like. He was Death, the Hanged Man, the Tower. He thought he was the God of Wrath, that asshole. He was only a king of Destruction.
(Swigs from the bottle)
Destruction is easy. It’s creation that’s hard. It’s creating that takes it out of you. Every time I look in the mirror and recreate myself, I am spitting on his grave. He acted so convinced that I’d end up nothing, just like him. All he ever gave me was a spiral fracture of the arm.
WHITNEY (Shocked and appalled)
Why’d your Mom marry him?
CHARMAYNE She couldn’t believe he wanted to marry her! She’d never been married – God knows who my real father was. She thought if any vaguely presentable guy – even some unemployed wastrel on disability – proposes to you, you HAVE to say yes. She met him at the diner where she cooked. Oh, yeah, my Mom worked. And worked and worked. Two shifts a day. My step-dad was supposed to take care of me. She thought she’d hit the lottery to win some guy with a disability check and nothing but time on his hands to look after me for free. He used every second ratcheting up my misery. I couldn’t stay at school every minute, but you better believe I wanted to. I knew I had to go home to him eventually. But the joke was on him. He thought he was so smart but he sure underestimated me.
(She’s lost, now, talking to the audience)
What a scrawny, worthless loser! He knew the entire universe despised him so he thought he’d get himself a slave. Someone he could push around. I was eleven when he told me it was his duty to teach me about sex. He said that was what stepfathers were for.
WHITNEY But your Mom –
CHARMAYNE (Angrily)
Oh, my Mom knew perfectly well what was going on! It meant she didn’t have to cope with him!
(Returns attention to courting the audience, cultivating her reverie. WHITNEY muffles up to ease the flow)
Mom’s cooperation (I should say her silence, because she was way too fat to “cooperate”) could be bought with a carton of snack cakes.
My step-dad pretended I was ugly; that he could barely bring himself to touch me. He expected me to worship him. But he must have known that the moment I grew up I’d try to get away. Maybe he thought he could keep me forever, like a hostage. Once, when my girlfriends and I streaked our hair for a sleepover, he acted as if I had set the house on fire. Luckily it was the kind that washes out; otherwise I think he really would have shaved my head.
I remember exactly how scared I felt the first time I decided to ignore my stepfather’s dictates about how I should look and dress. My first day of high school I knew I couldn’t go in there looking like some Amish refugee. I had to step up my game. It was terror, rank terror, the kind that makes you wet yourself; but you know what enemies forget? That fear is the rocket fuel of rebellion. Remember that, Whitney. You’ll never experience an emotion like that; you’ve been too sheltered. My stepfather’s own possessive rage became the engine of his death.
I try not to think about him too often because my energy is the only thing that gives him life, but you know, I’m glad to share this with you. Open it up, get it out of my head. The memories are still there, perfect and crystal clear. Nothing that happened in all those years since packs that kind of punch. I was just beginning to realize that my stepfather couldn’t actually read my mind, had no eyes in the back of his head, could not see through walls, did not have spies everywhere, was not connected to the Mafia or the CIA. It was him or me. How could I destroy him?
That year Saturn and Mars were equally fiery, it was dry and there was a comet. Perfect for revolution. He was weakening and I was strengthening. Your father taught you that in chess queens rule: my step-dad was too stupid to know it. So our battles escalated. I was getting as tall as he was; he must have figured his fists and penis were no longer sufficient to control me. One day he produced a gun. His idea was that we would have a threesome, little me, paralyzed with fear, and Superman with his two dicks. My idea was different.
He knew I was afraid of the cellar. He used to lock me down there for punishment when I was little. As a child, I thought it was the mouth of hell; a dirt hole stinking like a sewer clawed out beneath the bowels of the house. When he pushed me down there I never even passed the top step but just clung to the doorknob, eye pressed to the light crack, wailing for release.
(A slug of fast-vanishing booze. Turns her attention back to WHITNEY)
Will is a muscle, Whit; you can train it just the way you train the body. I had transcended so many fears already; why couldn’t I outgrow this one? What is the fear of confrontation, really, but the fear of change? What is the fear of being caught but the fear of ultimate failure, of not being powerful enough? Poisoning him didn’t work – I tried that – hoping to make his death look accidental; so, what if he simply disappeared? Nobody except his bar buddies would even notice he was gone. And they were way too fuzzyheaded to stage any meaningful hunt. Mom could just keep cashing his checks. Who would know? And she owed me. He’d overstayed his welcome on this planet; neither of us needed a babysitter any more. If weapons are engines of confrontation, Whitney, both of us could use them.
That was when I fell in love with power, Whitney. I had to, and you can too, or you’ll never get anywhere. Let me be your teacher.
(Strokes WHITNEY’s hair, uses finger for a gun)
Pop, pop, pop, and “pop” is gone. I knew how to cock the pistol; I knew how to release the safety because I’d seen him do it countless times. If the cellar was dirty and stinky, and no one ever went down there, why couldn’t I bury him where nobody would ever look?
So, while he was out buying smokes I fired up my nerve and took a flashlight down to check it out. That wooden staircase rocked like it was going to collapse, but I told myself it had only to hold me two more times. There were bugs, just as I feared; centipedes and worms, but now I saw them as my friends. Let them eat the bastard up; if only they’d chew his bones as well. The walls were caving in; hunks of unhewn stone overpowered by tree roots. Then I saw my blessing. A wooden well cover. I knew the time was now.
I recalled the furor when the county forced us on to public water. My step-dad raged that fluoridation was a commie plot. And all that time the old well was down there. Water in the bottom reflected my flashlight as I leaned over. It was even set flush with the floor; what could be easier? I practiced moving the wooden cover; no problemo. The only difficulty now was to get him down here with the gun.
So I told him I heard rats; I knew he longed for targets; especially in front of me. When I said they were scratching at the door, he was ready to go.
But he liked being a man of surprises, fancying he was in control. He made me go down first, carrying the flashlight and a garbage bag. That meant I couldn’t tackle him from behind the way I’d planned. It cut down on my time for action, because as I think I said before, the place was just a tiny hole. He would see I was a liar.
But if he had surprises, I had ideas. The garbage bag gave me a good one. I had a friend who earnestly believed violence engenders hauntings, but she didn’t see her own death coming. But if what she said is true, that cellar’s haunted forever by me in a red sweater, red kilt and plaid tights; and my step-dad wearing a garbage bag over his head while we struggled for the gun. I had to drop the flashlight; it shot a crazy, useless stream of light across the floor; we were in darkness.
He was wiry and desperate and amazingly strong, but I had the gun two-handed and I would not have let it go if the world around me exploded into flames. I discovered in that moment the secret of power, Whit, if you want something with your whole being, if you have not one cell of doubt, you are invincible. I had to kick his crotch to loosen up his grip, but the gun came to me pre-cocked. What an idiot! I shot him right through the bag. That gun kicked like a rattlesnake. I shot him again and again and again, and one of the bullets somehow came back to graze me in the face. Doesn’t bother me. This chip along my cheekbone – see? I wear it as a badge of honor.
(Demonstrates to WHITNEY)
I still have that gun. I can show you if you want to see it.
(She’s slurring her words now. Shakes the empty bottle.)
There’s another one that fell before The Queen of Swords! Think we should put a message in this thing? What would we say?
(Pulls arm back to throw bottle into the audience, sits down hard)
WHITNEY So you’re telling me to shoot my way out?
(CHARMAYNE laughs. shakes & holds her head)
CHARMAYNE Oh, Whitney, you’re always so literal! Your father hoped you’d be a lawyer. Wow, am I drunk. Guess I should have eaten dinner, but who wants to eat alone? Don’t be so silly, Whit. You can’t dip your hand in the same river twice. Your guy’s got weaknesses is all I’m saying. Search – searching –
(Seems like she’s losing track of her thoughts)
You’ve got to search them out. I can’t do everything for you. Learn to defend yourself. No one helps anyone else and the sooner you find that out, the better off you’ll be.
(Throws herself on her back)
Look at those stars, Whit. So many stars. Every star’s a lost soul, struggling for a piece of sun. Did you know I can’t sleep, Whit? I haven’t slept in days. But, I think I can sleep now. There’s something so safe, so reassuring about you.
(Loud snoring. EIGHT and WHITNEY stand over her looking down)
WHITNEY Should we move her?
EIGHT Don’t disturb her. Jeez, when she goes down, she goes down hard.
(CHARMAYNE reaches up scrabbling at the air.)
CHARMAYNE I hear you! What did you say?
(Burps)
This has been so fun. Look out, there’s two of you!
(Rolls over, cuddles up in WHITNEY’s clothes. WHITNEY tries to cover herself – EIGHT lends her his Hawaiian shirt)
WHITNEY I don’t – thanks.
EIGHT Hey, it’s a beautiful night.
WHITNEY Well, they say confession is good for the soul. But you have to have a soul.
EIGHT I’m sure she’s got something left way down deep in there. But it’s probably a poor, stubby, underfed little thing. You take off, I’ll watch over her.
Alysse Aallyn 