Jared McDaris

This is not representative of any specific day I experienced. It’s a combination of a number of experiences. Please forgive the (again) phallocentric nature, but that’s the experience I had.

He Opens a Window

             Lights up on a sidewalk. It’s just after sunset, and only some of the streetlights have come on, bathing the area in a golden glow that paradoxically the provides the illusions of warmth and the wan patina of scarcity. JAKE is sitting on a blanket on the sidewalk, up against a stark, filthy, but relatively graffiti-free wall. He is dressed in business casual. An old but functional laptop computer rests in his lap, and he is industriously typing away. Presumably, he is working. He also sports a massive black eye.

            Like a middle-class child trundling into the kitchen for a snack, more lights snap on. Just like that, it is officially night. And much like a cockroach caught in that metaphorical kitchen, JAKE instantly snaps to attention. He closes his laptop and puts it into a canvas shopping bag, then carefully shoves the canvas bag into a quality but filthy backpack. From out of the backpack, he pulls another canvas bag. From this canvas bag, he pulls a pair of jeans and a rumpled old jumper. JAKE looks around for a moment, then quickly strips out of his pants and into the jeans, not bothering to remove his shoes. As he is trying to pull his pants from his shoes, an older couple walks by. They don’t realize what they are seeing until they are upon him. JAKE smiles very awkwardly, as the couple does their best to pretend he isn’t there. JAKE finally gets his pants off and puts on his jeans.

            He then, after looking about again, removes his shirt and tie and zips up the jumper. Jake very carefully folds his pants and shirt, rolls up his tie, and places these in the empty canvas bag. He then carefully shoves the canvas bag into his backpack. Next, from a small pocket in the backpack, he pulls a smart phone, from which he checks the time and his e-mail. He make a few quick notations and replaces the phone.

            At this point, the older couple edges back on. The man has his back to JAKE, the woman is facing the man. They are clearly talking about JAKE, making occasional reference to him, but trying not to be heard by him.

            JAKE uses his backpack as a pillow, wraps his small blanket around him as best he can, and beds down for the still very young night.

MAN

(To woman) I know, babe, I know.

 

WOMAN

(To man) Well, ask him, why don’t you?

 

MAN

Just let him do what he wants.

 

WOMAN

He has a cell phone.

 

MAN

I know.

 

WOMAN

So tell him.

 

MAN

I know.

 

WOMAN

Do it.

 

MAN

I will. (slowly, to JAKE) Hey. Hey son. (silence. The MAN walks over to JAKE and stands directly over him). Hey. (pause) Hey!

 

JAKE

(raises his head) Sorry?

 

MAN

Would you mind acknowledging my presence, young man?

 

JAKE

Okay. I’m sorry, what’s up?

 

MAN

What’s up? What’s up, is you’re out here begging one minute and playing on your iPhone the next.

 

JAKE

Sorry?

 

MAN

I saw you, son, on your iPhone.

 

JAKE

It’s actually a Samsung Galaxy. Refurbished. It’s a lot cheaper.

 

MAN

Whatever. Why the hell are you out here begging for our hard-earned change when all you’re doing is playing on your iPhone all day.

 

JAKE

I’m not begging, sir. I’m trying to sleep.

 

MAN

Oh. I’m sorry. Have we interrupted your beauty rest, after a hard day’s work?

 

JAKE

It’s not… beauty rest, sir. I’m just sleeping.

 

MAN

If you love that iPhone so much, why don’t you go get a job to pay for it.

 

JAKE

I have a job.

 

WOMAN

Then why are you out here pretending to be a homeless person?

 

JAKE

I am homeless.

 

WOMAN

Look at his shoes. How much did those shoes cost?

 

JAKE

Twenty bucks. They’re three years old.

 

WOMAN

Sure they are.

 

JAKE

Ma’am, Sir, I’m having a hard time understanding how this is any of your business, but—

 

MAN

Don’t talk to my wife like that.

 

JAKE

She engaged me, sir.

 

MAN

You don’t talk to her like that. My wife has a job, son. D’you understand that?

 

JAKE

Yes, as do I.

 

MAN

She gets up at six o’clock every morning to go in and earn the taxes that subsidize your lazy lifestyle, son. She paid for that iPhone you’re playing with all day.

 

JAKE

It’s a Samsung—

 

MAN

So I’d appreciate it if you, a male welfare queen, didn’t adopt such a holier-than-thou attitude. All right?

 

JAKE

I’m not on welfare sir; I have a job.

 

MAN

Then what are you doing out on the street, son?

 

JAKE

It’s a temp job, sir; I can’t sign a year-long lease on a three week job.

 

MAN

So get a real job, then.

 

JAKE

Do you have a job to offer me, sir?

 

MAN

Don’t sell your sob-story to me, young man: no one’s gonna hire a lazy—

 

JAKE

And there’s the sound of one hand clapping.

 

MAN

Don’t interrupt me, young man. Show a little respect.

 

JAKE

I’ll respect you when you respect me, sir.

 

WOMAN

Hey! You don’t talk to my husband that way.

 

JAKE

I didn’t want to talk to you at all!

 

MAN

Then don’t be begging for handouts out here while playing on your iPhone.

 

JAKE

I wasn’t begging, sir, I was sleeping! And before that I was working.

 

WOMAN

(scoffing) You were working? Out here?

 

JAKE

Yes. I was finishing expense reports, on my own time, so they’d be ready for work tomorrow. Then I put my eight-year-old computer away, checked my e-mail on my three-year-old Samsung Galaxy phone, and went to sleep.

 

MAN

Now he’s got a computer! But he doesn’t have a home.

 

JAKE

Do you wanna buy my eight-year-old computer for ten-thousand dollars so I can sign a year-long lease on an apartment? Then be my guest.

 

WOMAN

Oh boo hoo: get a roommate.

 

JAKE

Who’s gonna room with an unemployed person?

 

WOMAN

Ah hah! Now you’re unemployed?

 

JAKE

Well I will be in three weeks.

 

WOMAN

Better get your story straight, son.

 

JAKE

(standing) Will you two just leave me alone!

 

MAN

Calm down, son.

 

JAKE

No! I was sleeping! I was minding my own business, and then you two come up and start harassing me for begging, which I wasn’t doing, while playing on an iPhone, which I also wasn’t doing—

 

MAN

We saw the phone, son!

 

JAKE

Fine! I own a phone! You can’t get a fucking job without one!

 

MAN

Watch your mouth!

 

JAKE

I was sleeping! I just want to sleep so I can be well rested when I get up at four in the morning to get ready to not look like a homeless person, so I won’t be fired for being homeless when I go into work at six. Please! Leave me the fuck alone!

 

MAN

How would you like another black eye, young man?

 

JAKE

Oh I’d love it; may I?

 

The MAN punches JAKE in the other eye. JAKE knocks his head against the fall and falls down.

 

MAN

We were trying to help you, son.

 

JAKE

Fuck you!

 

WOMAN

Hey! You need to calm down!

 

JAKE

I was—

 

MAN

Enough! (to Woman) Some people just refuse to try. Let’s go.

 

WOMAN

Let’s go find a cop. (shouting back at JAKE) Drunk and disorderly!

 

They walk off.

 

JAKE

I’m not… (realized they’re not listening) I don’t even drink.

 

Immediately, two people subtly step onstage from the other direction. CHRISTINE and ANDRE are both dressed in business casual, bordering and professional-wear. They both look better than JAKE did at the plays opening. And of course, neither has a black eye. CHRISTINE is more heavily made up, while ANDRE girds himself with a strong air of casual confidence.

            They stare at JAKE. After a moment, JAKE realizes they are there. They all stare.

Silence.

 

CHRISTINE

Jake?

 

Silence. A long silence.

 

JAKE

No…

 

Another long, super-uncomfortable silence.

 

CHRISTINE

I didn’t believe it. I couldn’t believe it.

 

ANDRE

Well, let’s let him explain himself first. Hi, I’m Andre. I’m a friend of Christine’s. (offers a hand)

 

JAKE

(tentatively takes the hand) Stephenopolus.

 

ANDRE

Huh?

 

JAKE

(pause) Jake.

 

ANDRE

Yeah.

 

CHRISTINE

What are you doing out here?

 

JAKE

Just… ya know… writin’ poetry. Looking for inspiration.

 

CHRISTINE

We saw what happened. With that couple.

 

JAKE

Hm? Oh yeah, we’re old friends. We were just catching up, and then he decided to punch me in the face in lieu of hugging me goodbye. Pretty standard, really.

 

CHRISTINE

Well, it’s understandable, under the circumstances.

 

JAKE

Huh?

 

CHRISTINE

Well what would you do if some… ya know… some guy just came at you and started shouting at you and waving his arms around. It’s scary, Jake.

 

JAKE

I wasn’t – What?

 

CHRISTINE

We saw you, Jake. He shouldn’t have hit you, I know, but you have to put yourself in his shoes. You look a little…

 

JAKE

What?

 

ANDRE

Hey calm down, man, we’re just talking.

 

JAKE

I promise you, I am calm.

 

CHRISTINE

Does… Does Karen know you’re…

 

JAKE

She knows I come to work early every day, do my job well, and leave at quitting time. That’s all she needs to know. You’re not gonna tell her…

 

CHRISTINE

Well… How do you get your paychecks?

 

JAKE

Direct deposit.

 

CHRISTINE

Does this mean… were you, when we were dating, were you…

 

JAKE

Homeless? Is that the word you’re searching for?

 

CHRISTINE

Yeah.

 

JAKE

Yes. Four days ago, I was still homeless.

 

CHRISTINE

Don’t you think that’s something you should have told me?

 

JAKE

We went out four times. It’s kind of a sensitive subject.

 

CHRISTINE

I just thought you were better than that. Wait. So you were homeless when, when you were over at my place.

 

JAKE

Yes. When we slept together, I was also homeless.

 

ANDRE

Hey.

 

JAKE

Hey what, Andre? I just want to get some sleep so I’ll be ready for work tomorrow.

 

CHRISTINE

Don’t you think Karen should know that you don’t have a home?

 

JAKE

No, Christine, I don’t think that. Who told you I was here?

 

CHRISTINE

Angie said she saw you here yesterday. She saw some crazy homeless guy punch you in the eye. Then I saw your eye at work today, and…

 

JAKE

Yup. (pause) Please don’t tell Karen.

 

CHRISTINE

She’s gonna find out sooner or later.

 

JAKE

She doesn’t have to.

 

CHRISTINE

People are gonna be uncomfortable around you, Jake—

 

JAKE

If they find out, yes. That’s a big reason not to tell them.

 

Pause.

 

CHRISTINE

Well… I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.

 

JAKE

Please don’t tell Karen. Are you gonna tell her?

 

CHRISTINE

I – no, I’ll – I’ll see you tomorrow.

 

JAKE

Don’t tell her, Christine, I need this money!

 

ANDRE

Calm down, buddy.

 

JAKE

I need this job to live, buddy, forgive me if I’m slightly less than calm.

 

ANDRE

Where is this attitude coming from?

 

JAKE

You people are fucking with my life because you’re uncomfortable; that’s where this attitude is coming from.

 

CHRISTINE

Good night, Jake.

 

JAKE

Answer me, Christine.

 

CHRISTINE

Good night!

 

JAKE

Christine!

 

JAKE pursues CHRISTINE, but ANDRE quickly intercedes. JAKE shoves ANDRE, who then punches him. Again, JAKE knocks his head against the wall and goes down.

 

JAKE

God! Is this a fucking Loonie Tune!?

 

ANDRE

Just sit down and calm down, man.

 

JAKE

If I don’t have this job, I am going to starve to death. Do you understand that?

 

CHRISTINE

Good night, Jake.

 

CHRISTINE and ANDRE exit. JAKE massages his eye. After a moment, a VAGRANT sneaks on, kicks JAKE viciously in the stomach, and steals his backpack. JAKE manages to lurch after him and grab the backpack, and they fight over it.

 

JAKE

Help! Christine! Help!

 

The VAGRANT kicks JAKE in the groin. JAKE relinquishes the backpack, but a pair of COPS enter and stop the VAGRANT from fleeing.

 

COP 1

Whoa! What’s goin’ on here?

 

VAGRANT

Yeah, um, thank God; that guy was tryin’ to steal my bag.

 

JAKE

It’s my bag, goddammit. This guy kicked me in the stomach, and –

 

COP 1

Sir, I’m gonna need you to calm down.

 

JAKE

I don’t – Fine. My phone, my computer, and my work clothes are in that backpack, just let me open it.

 

COP 1

There’s no need for the attitude, sir. Let’s just get you both down to the precinct and get both your stories, you can have a place to sleep for the night, we’ll let you out after twenty-four hours when everything’s calmed down.

 

JAKE

No. No, I cant – I have to be at work tomorrow. If I miss work, they’ll let me go.

 

COP 1

Sir, if you have work tomorrow, I’m sure you can call and let them know you’ll miss a day.

 

JAKE

I’m just a temp: they’ll cut me loose if I don’t show up. I just wanna sleep and go to work. Gimme my backpack.

 

COP 1

Sir, calm down.

 

JAKE

I am calm!

 

COP 2 pulls a pistol and aims it at JAKE.

 

COP 2

Back away and calm down!

 

JAKE

I’m not doing any—

 

COP 2 fires into JAKE’S shoulder. JAKE, again, goes down.

 

JAKE

Holy fucking god!

 

COP 2

A’right, we’re taking you both in.

 

COP 2 produces a pair of handcuffs and arrests JAKE.

 

COP 1

(to VAGRANT) Sorry sir, you gotta come down to the station with us and fill out some paper work. You can decide there if you wanna press charges.

 

VAGRANT

Long as I get my bag back, I’m fine.

 

JAKE lies down and starts crying. With his good arm, he tries to grab his blanket and hug it to himself.

 

JAKE

I just wanna sleeeeep…

 

COP 2

Sir, let’s go. I will drag you all the way to the car, sir.

 

JAKE is sobbing now. COP 2 drags JAKE offstage as COP 1 guides the VAGRANT off. CHRISTINE and ANDRE surreptitiously sneak back on.

 

CHRISTINE

Can you believe that?

 

ANDRE

Unbelievable.

 

CHRISTINE

I don’t get it. Some people just can’t live responsibly.

 

ANDRE

Hey! I got an idea. Let’s go get drunk.

 

CHRISTINE

Okay.

 

They exit.

            Lights fade out.

I think pentimentos are mentioned in The Da Vinci Code. I know they’re mentioned in Futurama’s parody of The Da Vinci Code, and they’re used with far superior poetry and purpose in Christopher Moore’s Sacre Bleu.

This play’s a bit phallocentric and choppy, which I guess isn’t surprising, seeing as I’m a dude. However, it’s also a bit Romantic and Expressionist, which are newish animals for me.

Pentimento Machine

            Lights up on a stylized, 1930s Russian tinker shop, straight out of a Brecht play. There are numerous tools about, that might be used by an engineer, metallurgist, or smithy, as well as a stove and a printing press that looks suspiciously like a steampunk-printer. Clichéd old Russian music is playing, something domestic, labor-oriented, and relatively low-key.

            After a moment, we hear noise coming from beneath the stove. DOMOVOI, an old janitor, climbs out from underneath the stove, bearing a broom. Covered in dust, soot, and filth, he brushes himself briefly before sweeping the area. He then approaches the printer. He lifts the guard and pulls a sheaf of paper from the printer. He examines it briefly, and his eyes widen, at which point he crumples the sheaf and shoves it into a pocket.

            Just as he is doing so, STOPONIN enters. An aging repairman, she is dressed similarly to DOMOVOI, combining the romanticism of old Russia with the sexless equality of the Soviet Union.

STOPONIN

Good morning. You are Domovoi, yes?

DOMOVOI

I am. Miss Stoponin?

STOPONIN

The same. I understand there is an error with your printing press.

DOMOVOI

Yes, Miss. Ma’am. She is printing rarely, if ever. Only this morning she was printing without command, and nothing anyone here would order printed.

STOPONIN

(she is moving slowly about, gathering tools from the area) Oh? What was she printing?

DOMOVOI

It is, not important.

STOPONIN

Anything worth saying is important.

DOMOVOI

Ah, I must have said something not worth saying.

STOPONIN

Ah. I recommend you avoid that in future.

DOMOVOI

Mm.

            DOMOVOI returns to sweeping, moving slowly away from STOPONIN, who has begun to open and examine the printing press.

STOPONIN

How long has she been recalcitrant?

DOMOVOI

Sorry?

STOPONIN

Difficult.

DOMOVOI

Ah. This is the third day. We are waiting quite impatiently.

STOPONIN

Print repairman is a rare profession. I am traveling here all the way from the southern suburbs.

DOMOVOI

From Moscow?

STOPONIN

Just so.

DOMOVOI

Ah.

STOPONIN

Yes. Ah. (pause) What is she printing?

DOMOVOI

What? We are preparing an instruction manual for our electric slaughterhouse.

STOPONIN

Electric?

DOMOVOI

Yes. Ah, well, mostly coal, but it generates electricity. It has an automatic knocker, a garrote wire, even a clockwork Judas Cow.

STOPONIN

(still working) Judas Cow. What is this?

DOMOVOI

Ah. Well. Cows, you know, they are reluctant to move where they are told, but they will very often follow a leader. So, we train a cow to lead the others into the slaughter house. A Judas Cow. The Judas Cow is first in, and he side-steps, which is not easy to do without training, and the other cows come in and are knocked on the head. Then they cut their throats. The rest of the cows just keep coming.

STOPONIN

(stops working. Looks at DOMOVOI) Sounds awful.

DOMOVOI

I’m sure it is.

STOPONIN

And now you have this clockwork Judas Cow? So every single cow is slaughtered?

DOMOVOI

Yes.

STOPONIN

Ah.

DOMOVOI

Well. They are not my slaughterhouses.

STOPONIN

No.

DOMOVOI

I did not even build them.

STOPONIN

Of course not.

DOMOVOI

I did not even write the manual. I am just cleaning.

STOPONIN

And printing.

DOMOVOI

And you are repairing the printer.

STOPONIN

Ah.

DOMOVOI

Ah.

            DOMOVOI returns to sweeping. STOPONIN watches him.

STOPONIN

You do not answer my question. I was asking, what is she printing now? You say she is printing by accident. What is she printing?

DOMOVOI

(stops working) Oh. I cannot. It is unprofessional.

STOPONIN

(growing more coy) Is? It is still around? (pause) When I arrive, you were putting something in your pocket. (pause) Is this the print in question?

DOMOVOI

Please, Miss Stoponin, do your job. And I will do mine.

STOPONIN

I must diagnose the error, Mister Domovoi. (she moves toward him) Show me this print.

DOMOVOI

I cannot.

STOPONIN

(She grows much closer) Do not sell yourself short. You can do anything you put your mind to.

DOMOVOI

I should not.

STOPONIN

Ohhh… What is “should?”

            STOPONIN grabs at DOMOVOI’S pocket, and he tries to move away. They are fighting and fidgeting like children. It is decidedly unprofessional.

DOMOVOI

I won’t! I won’t!

STOPONIN

(pulls away, holding up the crumpled paper) Ah hah!

            DOMOVOI gives chase, but quickly gives up. STOPONIN un-crumples the paper and examines it. She grins victoriously, but her smile soon evaporates, and her eyes widen.

STOPONIN

This is… decidedly unprofessional.

DOMOVOI

Yes.

STOPONIN

But… very well drawn. (pause) Someone had to have drawn this.

DOMOVOI

Yes.

STOPONIN

This woman seems very… engaged.

DOMOVOI

Yes.

STOPONIN

And the man is quite… generous.

DOMOVOI

One would hope.

STOPONIN

He… (her eyes, impossibly, grow wider. After a moment, she tears her gaze from the paper to DOMOVOI) You… You drew this!

DOMOVOI

What? No! I cannot draw a thing not even a stick man.

STOPONIN

This! This man! This man is you!

DOMOVOI

Well.

STOPONIN

Well. Much younger you.

DOMOVOI

Yes.

STOPONIN

You were very… generous.

DOMOVOI

(grins) Yes.

STOPONIN

And this woman?

DOMOVOI

Rusalka. My wife.

STOPONIN

She looks very… alive.

DOMOVOI

She was. Always. She drowned in the lake. She was skating on her old socks, when the ice gave way.

STOPONIN

I am sorry.

            Silence. STOPONIN crumples up the paper and returns it to DOMOVOI. DOMOVOI un-crumples it and looks at the picture again.

DOMOVOI

Thank you. I look at this, at something I will never have again, yet it still makes me happy. And more than a little… nostalgic.

STOPONIN

Ah. So, what magical pixie is drawing this picture? (pause) If you did not draw this, then someone who knows you and knew your wife must have. Is it some malicious polevoi or gremlin, crept into your printing press, huh? Perhaps the mischievous water vila, so fond of sport and wild abandon, are living in your printer now, huh?

            STOPONIN thunks the printing press with a tool, and instantly lights and thunder erupt all over. DOMOVOI and STOPONIN huddle together in fear as the entire stage shakes apart. Suddenly, the printing press bursts open like an egg, and RUSALKA, a beautiful fairy queen, rises up out of it. In time, DOMOVOI and STOPONIN look up.

DOMOVOI

Rusalka! I… Rusalka, is that you?

            RUSALKA sings a few beautiful notes, devoid of word or meaning. She raises a scepter over her head, and beautiful, magical creatures dance in from the corners. The sky is gone, replaced by stars, and everything is new. Gorgeous, operatic music plays throughout. The creatures dance and play with each other, all with beautiful rhythms but no clear structure. RUSALKA watches with approval, but only occasionally joins in.

STOPONIN

(points to one of the fairy creatures) Leshy! Oh my Leshy!

            The creature called LESHY takes STOPONIN and dances with her. STOPONIN grows stronger and younger in spirit as they play, other fairies weaving in and out as they go. STOPONIN’S experience comes to a climax, and she brings LESHY over to DOMOVOI, who has remained steadfastly still the whole time.

DOMOVOI

Leshy?

STOPONIN

Yes. She and I went to school together. She was so strong, like a bright beam of Sunlight even in the darkest winter. I had… I had never told her how I felt about her.

DOMOVOI

(offers a hand) It is a pleasure to meet you, Leshy.

            LESHY backs away, singing lovely notes, and joins in the dancing again.

STOPONIN

But – is Leshy dead? I had heard gossip about her and her family only a week ago. Could she have drowned, or… we are not so old… is she dead?

            RUSALKA, LESHY, and several others sing some more. RUSALKA invites STOPONIN back in, and guides her into the dancing and playing with the fairy creatures. The fun grows wilder and more abandoned, as DOMOVOI slowly moves closer to the fairy queen. She has been watching the fun, but as DOMOVOI grows close, she smiles at him beatifically. At length, she extends her hand a little. DOMOVOI extends his hand, not into hers but up to her cheek, which he can scarcely reach. When they finally touch, there is an explosive cheer all about, though no one seems to be watching or paying them any mind. Instantly, DOMOVOI falls into her embrace, his head by her lap, in a scene obviously paralleling Titania and Bottom. RUSALKA caresses him, and he sleeps the sleep of the angels.

            A great bell sounds.

            The fairy creatures begin to calm down, and all gravitate toward the edges of the stage. DOMOVOI awakes and looks around, then sits up. He stares at STOPONIN, whose clothes are now in tatters and who looks, despite her age, very much in company with the beautiful and wild creatures.

DOMOVOI

But… we have work to do.

STOPONIN

For who?

DOMOVOI

I don’t know.

STOPONIN

I think we’re going, Domovoi. Let’s go.

DOMOVOI

But this… this isn’t Rusalka. Not my wife.

STOPONIN

Maybe. This probably isn’t Leshy. I don’t know. All I know is I feel very happy.

DOMOVOI

But is that all there is?

STOPONIN

Why not?

DOMOVOI

I don’t… It seems wrong.

            RUSALKA is staring at him, warmly, but sadly.

STOPONIN

Are you sure, Domovoi?

DOMOVOI

No.

            The fairy creatures start to draw away and vanish. STOPONIN is moving back with them, but does not quite exit. Finally, RUSALKA begins to float away.

DOMOVOI

Wait. I don’t… Rusalka… Wait! I…

            RUSALKA disappears. STOPONIN waves goodbye and offers a few notes of song, then vanishes as well. DOMOVOI is left standing, alone. He looks around at the destruction. At length, he picks up his broom and starts sweeping. After a moment, he looks at the crumpled picture again. He stares.

            Lights fade out.

Here’s some more painfully obvious symbolism.

The title is taken from one of Kate’s lines in Countess Bathory, another (longer) play I wrote.

Kill My Dreams

            Dim light rise on a CHILD sleeping in bed, CS. In the CHILD’S embrace is a tiny BEAR. The BEAR is dressed like a hipster, in that it wears jeans and a plaid shirt, as well as large glasses.

            The CHILD stirs in sleep, then flops over, ejecting the BEAR. The BEAR rolls and falls out of bed. After a moment, the BEAR stirs. The BEAR wobbles about unsteadily and props itself up on all fours, then slowly stands. The BEAR looks about.

            A low, immense, rumbly growling is heard beneath the bed. The BEAR notices this. The BEAR waves its paw about slowly, and the paw begins to glow. The BEAR sticks its glowing paw beneath the bed, and the release of some sci-fi blast is heard. The growl erupts into a roar, then dwindles to a snarl, then melts away. The BEAR looks about. There is a new, slithery, different noise under the bed. The BEAR prepares its paw again and reaches under the bed, but the noise immediately retreats at this. The BEAR again stands and looks about.

            Horns are heard lowing. They sounds distant and bizarrely modulated. The BEAR is looking about, not under the bed. Creeping in from offstage and down the aisles of the audience are great, stilted ELEPHANTS. They resemble Dali’s elephants: long, tall legs like dead willow trees, compact bodies, and trunks that snake about, serpentine. There is at least one ELEPHANT for each means of egress the theater boasts. The ELEPHANTS move very, very slowly. Very, very inexorably.

            The BEAR is looking at them, taking them in, unsure.

BEAR

In Closet dark or under Bed,
Be’t Mem’ry lost or broken Dead,
Tremble, Nightmares in the Night,
Wretched Phantoms born of Spite,
Who Tear the Earth and till no soil,
Who Take o’er full and all else spoil,
You Monsters without proper form,
To Innocents would offer harm,
Forbear this sacred, guarded place,
Repel you from this Guard’ian’s face,
You, who Kindness would disgrace,
Will happen here on Death’s embrace.

            Slowly, inexorably, the ELEPHANTS advance. The BEAR picks on, waves its paw about, and prepares to fight.

            Before any fighting can start, we hear the skittering of tiny feet. The BEAR hesitates. Dozens of tiny MICE rush in and swarm about the ELEPHANTS’ feet. They whine and cower and non-verbally beg the BEAR for mercy. The BEAR aims, and they scream. The BEAR hesitates, then aims very high. Still, the MICE scream. The BEAR lowers its paw, and the MICE continue to skitter. Slowly, inexorably, the ELEPHANTS advance. We hear the horns of their distant, distorted lowing.

            Shortly after, the MICE begin to hiss and spit at the BEAR. They growl in a thoroughly un-mouse-like way. Feeling threatened, the BEAR again prepares his paw and aims. Instantly, the MICE cower and whine and whimper. Other MICE, not being aimed at, intensify their hissing and spitting. Again, the BEAR stops and looks about. The MICE soon return to their regular levels of hissing and spitting.

            The slithery, serpentine sound comes from beneath the bed again. The BEAR prepares its paw, but is too scared to look away from all the creatures encroaching on the bed. Eventually, the BEAR does duck under the bed and again fire its magical or laser shot under the bed. The serpentine rumbling retreats, but the ELEPHANTS continue to slowly, inexorably encroach.

            The CHILD stirs in its sleep. The hissing and spitting intensifies, as does the bizarre ELEPHANTS’ horns. The BEAR is growing very visibly concerned.

            A single MOUSE lurches forward from its crowd and starts scurrying up the bed. The BEAR intercepts it and throws it away, then prepares and aims its paw. Instantly, the MOUSE begins whimpering and whining, as does all its mates. MICE from other ELEPHANTS again intensify their hissing and spitting. Again, the BEAR backs down, and noises regulate.

            This happens one or two more times. Finally, seemingly pushed to the edge, the BEAR again prepares its paw and aims at a group of MICE. Again, the MICE cower and whine while other MICE increase their invective. The BEAR holds its aim for a long time. Maybe, possibly, we’re not sure… Maybe the ELEPHANTS very subtly slow their advance. A minute passes. Finally, again, the BEAR relents, and things return to what is now normal.

            Time passes.

            Another MOUSE skitters out. This time, the errant MOUSE attacks the BEAR, gnawing at it. The BEAR shakes it away, but even before the BEAR can finish preparing its paw, the whining and hissing of the other MICE have convinced it to stop.

            Time passes. The ELEPHANTS have covered significant ground by now.

            Another MOUSE creeps out and attacks. This one is more earnest, and is soon supported by two or three more. The BEAR manages to shake them all off, and they instantly start whining and screaming before the BEAR offers even the shadow of violence. As the BEAR hesitates, the MICE right themselves and attack again. They are joined by even more MICE, and they begin to overwhelm the BEAR. The BEAR is torn, gnawed, visibly damaged, and is nearly overwhelmed. The horns of the ELEPHANTS intensifies, as does the hissing and spitting. Everyone is celebrating the imminent death of the BEAR.

            Miraculously, the BEAR manages to break free. Instantly, the MICE begin whining and screaming, but the BEAR prepares its paw and aims. All the MICE are now whining and screaming, begging, whimpering. The BEAR continues to aim, trembling. The BEAR is experiencing something it never has before: hatred.

            As the BEAR aims at a single MOUSE, all other MICE scurry back to their respective mates. Once safe, they begin to hiss and spit. But, as the BEAR looks about, every MOUSE the BEAR looks at whimpers and cries and whines, only to resume hissing and spitting once the BEAR looks away. Only the last MOUSE in danger, at whom the BEAR aims, consistently whines and whimpers.

            The ELEPHANTS slowly, inexorably advance.

            The BEAR eyes the single remaining MOUSE, then looks again up at the ELEPHANTS.

            Another MOUSE creeps in behind the BEAR, preparing to attack. The BEAR turns and aims at the new MOUSE. Both MICE scurry back to their respective mates, and all the MICE are now hissing and spitting. The BEAR does not know where to aim.

            We hear another, new growl start beneath the bed. The CHILD stirs in sleep.

            The BEAR is looking around frantically, not knowing what to do. At length, it collapses to a sit and puts its head in its hands. It is mere seconds, however, before more MICE creep out and attack, and again the BEAR must hop up and aim. The MICE whine and scurry, then return to hissing and spitting.

            The BEAR looks everywhere, paranoid. Unsure.

            We hear the growling.

            We hear the ELEPHANTS’ horns.

            The CHILD whimpers once, in sleep.

            Slowly, inexorably, the ELEPHANTS advance.

            Lights slowly fade out.

An irksome experience on tonight’s ride home on the El prompted me to post this one.

We Don’t Need No Education

            Lights up on STELLA, sitting on a couch at a party. “Brick In The Wall” is playing on a loop. STELLA is bored out of her mind. After a moment, a shambling zombie lumbers by. Unlike your fancy Hollywood zombies, this one is in relatively good shape, and has a plastic funnel stuck in its head. STELLA doesn’t even glance at it, as it shambles by.

            Times passes.

            Another zombie limps past. This one stops about three-quarters of the way, and holds up a small bottle of drain cleaner. The zombie pours some drain cleaner into its funnel, wobbles a bit, and shambles off. STELLA watches this one a little, but doesn’t show much interest.

            Time passes.

            Another zombie, a SLOUCHER enters, a bit awkwardly, but seemingly still cognizant. The SLOUCHER collapses on the couch and glances over at STELLA. STELLA glances back, they catch each others’ eyes, and share a brief smile. They look away.

            Several zombies enter. One of them produces a slightly larger container of drain cleaner and pours it into another’s funnel. The other zombies start moaning in rhythm, coming to a fever-head as the drain cleaner finishes pouring in. The zombie receiving the drain cleaner slowly lifts its arms in the air and offers a victorious howl, soon mirrored by the others. The zombies all shamble off, except for one STRAGGLER who starts eying STELLA.

             STELLA is already aware of the STRAGGLER and is doing her damnedest to will it away. Unfortunately, the STRAGGLER keeps sidling closer, and closer, then sits down on an arm of the chair. STELLA shifts her weight away, but still tries to ignore the STRAGGLER. The STRAGGLER rests an arm on the couch, around STELLA but not touching her, then slowly leans in closer. Just before touching, The STRAGGLER opens its jaws and starts gnawing on STELLA’S skull.

 STELLA

Nope!

             STELLA slides away, but the STRAGGLER is persistent and pursues her. STELLA tries, still gently, to remove and dissuade the STRAGGLER.

STELLA

That’s not for you. Nope. Please stop. I’m asking nicely, get off me. (finally) Fuck off!

            The STRAGGLER groans in a flash of whimpering hurt feelings, then the hollow echoes of fury are reflected in its next moan.

SLOUCHER

Hey! … Fuck off!

            The SLOUCHER stands up, and the STRAGGLER backs away. The STRAGGLER offers a pale imitation of the bird, then exits. The SLOUCHER collapses on the couch again.

STELLA

Thanks.

SLOUCHER

Sure.

            Silence.

STELLA

How long you been here?

SLOUCHER

Two hours.

STELLA

Really? You seem pretty… cognizant.

SLOUCHER

(produces a small bottle of brain cleaner and tips a small amount into its funnel) Moderation.

STELLA

Ah. Nice. Good. (silence) It pisses me off that zombies only listen to other zombies. I think I made it pretty damn clear that I didn’t want my brain gnawed on, yes?

SLOUCHER

Sure.

STELLA

And yet there he was, using me like a chew toy until you – a zombie – got up and told him to leave, then all of a sudden it all makes sense, and he goes. Because you said so.

SLOUCHER

No agency granted.

STELLA

Exactly. Exactly. I don’t think it’s unreasonable to expect others to respect my body and myself.

SLOUCHER

Totally reasonal.

STELLA

Sorry, I don’t mean to dump all this on you. I know you were just trying to help. And you did help. It’s just a shitty situation.

SLOUCHER

Shitty world.

STELLA

Well. Sometimes. Yeah.

SLOUCHER

Sometimes. Yeah.

            Silence. The SLOUCHER holds out its bottle and offers it to STELLA.

STELLA

No thanks.

SLOUCHER

A little?

STELLA

I don’t. I don’t pour.

            Pause.

SLOUCHER

At all?

STELLA

(barely suppressing a sigh) Nope.

            Pause.

SLOUCHER

Why not?

STELLA

(pretending to choose her words carefully) I don’t know how to answer that without upsetting you.

SLOUCHER

Try me.

STELLA

(again. A pause) I appreciate that you are an adult and, normally, can hear an opinion on something without taking it personally. But you’re asking me to comment on a habit that you yourself partake in. If I tell you how I really feel about it, you’re going to take it personally. And if I sugarcoat it, then it’s going to seem like an insufficient argument. So I’d really rather just say I’m not interested, and leave it at that.

SLOUCHER

(moves closer) Just tell me.

STELLA

Promise me you won’t snap at me.

SLOUCHER

Promise.

STELLA

I understand that this is just a way of having fun, for you. It’s just a way to relax, at least that’s what I always hear. And yeah, there are obvious long-term effects on your body, but that’s your own problem. If you wanna poison yourself, you go right ahead. But you are, by your own admission, not in control of your faculties when that stuff’s on your brain. You’re abdicating thought and responsibility, and if something bad happens, well you couldn’t really do anything. A half-assed apology and everyone sits and waits for the next time.

SLOUCHER

(a hit of skepticism, masquerading as an open mind) Okay.

STELLA

And really, I don’t usually go to these things anyway. But if I don’t go to these things, everyone says I’m an asshole. So I started going to these parties, literally just sitting on a couch, staring into space for a couple hours. Doing nothing. Talking to no one. And now, all of a sudden, I’m such an amazingly nice person. Everyone loves me. I don’t even drive people home. I just sit here an hour or two, and leave.

SLOUCHER

(helps himself to another quick pour) Okay.

STELLA

And I’m willing to grant that it’s at least possible to consume drain cleaner in moderation. I mean, other countries do it, or so I hear. But this isn’t just about getting plastered, or the poison it is, or what people do because drain cleaner makes it okay. I think drain cleaner has just infested every aspect of our culture. I cannot go a day without hearing about drain cleaner as the primary source of fun, of friendship, of… just… living. And if that’s true, if your lives are really so fucking horrible that you need to coat your brains in fuzzy poison in order to eek out another day… every single one of you… then there is something goddamn wrong with your lives, and that needs to be fixed, and drain cleaner is not gonna fix it. I’ll spare you the usual Marx reference.

SLOUCHER

(another pour) Mm.

STELLA

It’s just fucking infuriating. Drain cleaner is a universal punch line. And everyone just snickers like they’re doing something naughty, like they’ve got their hand in the cookie jar, but there is no cookie jar. Everyone does it. All the time. It’s not brave, or brash, or outré, or rebellious. Nothing could be more… bourgeois than drain cleaner. But everyone tells themselves they’re a fucking rebel. Well Mickey Mouse is more rebellious these days than drain cleaner.

SLOUCHER

Hmm…

STELLA

God, just the smug, self-satisfied, goofy, pretentious, snotty, ubiquitous stupidity of it all is maddening. And it is ev-er-y-where! I mean, I’m stuck at this party, but I’m not really stuck at this party. I can get up and leave, but where am I gonna go? It’s on billboards, it’s on TV twenty-four-hours a fucking day. You can’t talk more than three minutes without it coming up; it’s worse than the weather. I can not escape it. It teaches you to seek out oblivion. It teaches you that thinking is something to be anesthetized. It teaches you that there is no greater reward or ambition than inhibiting the one thing that elevates us above the other animals. And if you think we’re the same as all the other animals, or that cognizance is something to be destroyed, then just knock you brain out with a mallet and go live in the woods, but I don’t believe for a moment that anyone believes that. They’re all just a horde of fucking cowards who refuse to turn those piercing stares in the goddamn mirror.

            Silence.

STELLA

Thanks for listening.

SLOUCHER

Unnnnnnngh…

            Pause.

STELLA

I’m sorry. It’s my fault: I wasn’t really listening to you. If I had been, I would have realized much earlier that you have no fucking clue what I’m saying. I judged you for being here, even though I’m here too. Sorry.

            The SLOUCHER lurches forward and tries to gnaw STELLA’S skull. STELLA stands.

STELLA

Hokay. Well. G’night.

            STELLA starts off, but is intercepted by another zombie.

STELLA

Hey. Yeah, I just, I got a real bad headache, and I gotta be up early tomorrow anyway. Thanks so much, though. I’ll see ya soon, okay? Bye.

            STELLA exits. The SLOUCHER lies down on the couch and moans.

            Lights out.

This’n’s a personal favorite.

Pennies From Heaven

            An enormous crash is heard. Lights up on a street at late morning. Traffic noises abounds, and car horns doubly so. At CS is a huge table: its DSL-most leg has been broken off has scattered far DSL. It’s USL-most leg is crumpled and buckled, but remains in pace. The table has a huge crack in the middle, but has not yet bent or folded. Shattered glass is everywhere.

            PAULA and ASH are in the middle of the street, their hands on the table. PAULA, SR, has one hand on the table and another on a busted-up shopping cart, containing various clothing items, bottles, an old lunch box, and an extra-large plastic bag filled with junk food. ASH, SL, is using a partially crushed newspaper dispenser as a chair. Both PAULA and ASH are dressed in winter gear, though nothing else suggests it is too terribly cold.

PAULA

(simultaneously with ASH) You best get the fuck offa my table; Imma kick you inna goddamn knees til they break off!

ASH

Get the fuck outta here! Get the fuck outta here! Get the fuck outta here! Get the fuck outta here!

KATE, a paralegal, enters

KATE

Hey. Hey! Hey! (pause) Hi, what’s goin’ on?

ASH

This bitch wanna steal my table.

PAULA

Fuck you, bitch; this table fell outta the sky, and I grabbed it first; it’s mine.

ASH

Get the fuck outta here!

KATE

Hey guys! This table actually belongs to Kohan & Spangler, up on the thirty-eighth floor.

ASH

What d’you want with a broken table?

KATE

Well yeah, it wasn’t broken, but then one of our ad execs, kinda… shoved it out a window. It was pretty cool.

PAULA

A’right, but it’s broke now. Whatcha gonna do with a broken table.

KATE

Well, what do you want with a broken table?

PAULA

(obviously) It’s gonna be winter soon.

KATE

(pause) What does that have to do with anything?

ASH

It’s a shelter from the snow. You ever tried to sleep under a wedged-up dumpster?

KATE

Oh… well… I mean, we obviously don’t need it anymore, but—

PAULA

I grabbed this thing first, and now that asshole’s tryin’ to steal it.

ASH

You ain’t draggin’ this thing nowhere by yourself.

KATE

Okay, well, the police should be here soon, so—

ASH

No, we gotta take this thing before the police get here. They’re gonna drag it off to dump or something, and then neither of us get it.

KATE

Neither of you can have it until a police report’s been filed.

Pause. KATE puts a hand on the table. Everyone looks around anxiously. KATE quickly realizes that she has to urinate.

ASH

A’right, where you live?

PAULA

Down by 23^rd and State.

ASH

What!? You ain’t gonna drag a table all that way! Whatchu even doin’ up here? I’m just five blocks away, let’s go my way.

PAULA

Fuck you!

ASH

If we don’t get this table outta here now, ain’t neither of us gonna get it.

KATE

You’re not moving this table!

ASH starts dragging the table SL. PAULA immediately counters SR, and KATE tries to keep the table where it is. They all struggle futilely for a few seconds before giving up.

KATE

Look. Neither of you is going to let the other one take the table. You’re just gonna scream at each other like children until the police get here. So just relax; when the police file their report, I will talk to the garbage guys and see if we can’t get this moved near where you… live.

PAULA

Where who live?

ASH

It don’t matter! She don’t give a shit what happens to this table! She just tryin’ to make us go away. And even if she did care, ain’t no garbage man gonna give a shit what happens to us. She just waitin’ for the cops to get here, so she can use them to scare us off.

PAULA

Then lemme take the table.

ASH

You ain’t gonna make it all the way down to 23^rd and State!

KATE

Exactly. Just wait.

ASH

Please! Let’s take it back to me, and we can fight about it there.

Pause.

PAULA

It’s got a big crack in the middle. Maybe we can bust it in half.

ASH

I dunno. But we can’t stay here.

Long pause. PAULA moves over to ASH, and they begin dragging the table SL.

KATE

Hey. Hey! Hey! (moves SR and counters) Stop it. Stop it! Stop it! Help! Somebody help! These two… people are stealing my table!

PAULA

Ain’t nobody gonna help you! You screamin’ like a crazy person!

KATE

You’re the fuckin’ crazy person! What are you gonna do with a giant table?

PAULA

Keep the snow off our heads! What are you gonna do with it?

KATE

Fill out… the goddamn… police report!

KATE is losing this battle. No one is coming to help. Slowly, the table is dragged SL.

KATE

I need… this is important! This is important!

KATE runs over to the center of the table and pounds furiously on the crack. The table shudders and cracks nearly in two. KATE rushes back, and the pulling finishes separating the table into two parts.

KATE

Okay!? One for you, one for me. Now fuck off!

Pause. PAULA and ASH look at each other.

PAULA

Good luck.

ASH

You too.

PAULA rushes over, shoulders KATE aside, and starts dragging half the table SR. ASH continues dragging his half SL. KATE runs toward ASH, hesitates, and looks back and forth between her adversaries. She runs back and forth, trying to fight each, but cannot make a decision. She screams in frustration. KATE runs over to PAULA’S shopping cart and knocks it over, spilling the refuse all over. She kicks the refuse about, swearing viciously. KATE picks up some of the refuse and throws it at PAULA. She then decides to commit against PAULA and grabs the other side of her table-half. ASH is now offstage, his half of the table gone.

After a moment, ASH sneaks back onstage. He sneaks behind KATE, suddenly grabs one leg and slips one of her heels off.

ASH

Good luck!

PAULA

You too!

ASH runs offstage left. KATE tries to pursue, but is quickly hobbled by having one heel. She takes off her other heel and hurls it offstage after ASH.

KATE

Fuck you! Fuck you!

KATE tries to pursue, but is quickly reminded of the shattered glass all over the ground. She carefully steps back to the remaining table-half, but her ability to struggle is greatly hampered by her lack of shoes. She screams in frustration again and lets go. PAULA continues to drag her table-half offstage.

KATE

Oh, nobody help or anything! I’m perfectly fine! Don’t worry about me! Just ignore me and go about your day like I’m fucking invisible! Fuck!

KATE is unsure what to do. As the lights fade out, we hear police sirens in the very far distance, mixing quietly with the sounds of traffic, car-horns prevailing.

Obviously inspired by the song of the same name. This one needs a lot of work for… whatever it is… but I like the Renaissance and Leonardo and whatnot.

Leonardo Dreams of His Flying Machine*

The title of this play, and all words in quotations, are taken from Charles Anthony Silvestri’s poem: “Leonardo Dreams of His Flying Machine.”

Lights up on LEONARDO’S chamber. It is cluttered with Renaissance bric-a-brak. A single candle illuminates the very-late-night scene. LEONARDO is pacing back and forth in the clutter. Occasionally he references a sheet of paper or examines one of the many contraptions, but mostly he paces, talks to himself, and frets.

            Hanging from the back wall is a huge set of handmade wings, large enough to theoretically lift a man. They are in prominent view. Once or twice, LEONARDO ceases his pacing, looks up at the wings, then resumes.

            A single great window, looking out on the night sky, is the only clear space in the chamber.

            Slowly, warmly, a light comes from above. We can hear a heavenly choir singing, as from a great distance, “Leonardo… Leonardo… come fly…” LEONARDO grabs his head, shakes it, pushes it against a wall, but nothing can silence the maddeningly beautiful voices. Finally he shrieks and falls against the wings, bracing himself with his aged hands. At the shriek, the heavenly choir and the light fade away.

LEONARDO

“A man with wings large enough, and duly connected… might learn to overcome the resistance of the air.” He might… he might learn…

The light increases slightly as a candle enters. The candle is born by ICARINA, a young servant girl. She slowly lights other candles about the room, and the scene becomes lighter. As she moves, ICARINA adjusts a few fallen articles, tidies up an area or two, but mostly moves silently. Until…

LEONARDO

My head is most strongly in the clouds tonight.

ICARINA

Good morning, Mister Da Vinci.

LEONARDO

(turns and offers paternal joy) Icarina! Is it morning already?

ICARINA

Sunrise very shortly, sir.

LEONARDO

The Sun, like the great Phoenix herself, floats up into the sky, tormenting us with his sweet, unattainable joy. What would you do, Icarina, if you could fly like the seagull or the falcon?

ICARINA

My happiness is simple, sir. I have your breakfast.

LEONARDO

Very good. Today… Today is, I think, perhaps, the day, Icarina.

ICARINA

The day you leap?

LEONARDO

Yes. Perhaps. … Maybe… But imagine it, child. Imagine yourself, not as muted clay bound to the Earth, but free as spirits and feathers, as… as… as birds, as the angels that surpass us as much in glory and might and wisdom and beauty as we the ants we tread upon.

ICARINA

Oh sir, you needn’t ask. I imagine it all the time. I dream of it.

LEONARDO

Dream?

Slowly, the Sun begins to rise.

ICARINA

Always. Every night, I seem to wake in a fever, and the heavens cry to me, “Come, come fly in our spheres.” And they sing so beautifully I wake myself with weeping and pray to sleep again. You cannot think, Sir, that I should spend my every day here, and never dream of flying.

LEONARDO

Why no, no, of course. I merely… I thought…

ICARINA

You thought me simple, sir. A girl, and a child.

LEONARDO

You are uneducated.

ICARINA

I am simple, sir. My joys are simple. They must be. But I dream, sir. Those wings beckon me in the midnight fields, they embrace me and carry me up into the heavens to see my father again. And his smile shames the Sun for shining glory, and he holds me and welcomes me and says I am home again at last.

LEONARDO

That is a charming thought.

ICARINA

It is, sir. But my wings and I are drawn to greater things, and we fly higher up and up and dance among the stars, and swim in darkness like the deep and ancient creatures of the Seas My wings and I swoop and leap and dive and pirouette between the planets and the comets. And there, perhaps, as hideous beasts swim beneath us now, creatures more beautiful than we could ever fathom float and swim and fly out there, and I would join them for a moment. And like an ant, I’d fear their tails or talons or brilliant fires, but I out-sway them all, and plummet back to Paradise, and tell my father how I had the wit to rise and see the ceiling of creation. And then, with the rain clouds, I descend into our home, into my bed, and wake in tears. And I weep and wonder: why must we wake from dreams?

LEONARDO

Those are beautiful dreams.

ICARINA

They are. But, so is this ham.

ICARINA produces some ham and bread and sets it on a small space she has cleared off. She helps herself to small portions.

LEONARDO

Ah! Yes. The heavens call us, but we are mortal, and must subsist.

ICARINA

Do you think your wings will work?

LEONARDO

They must, but therein lies the danger. A bird learns to fly by falling from the nest. Sadly, I fear I favor my head more highly than it is worth, and have little desire to dash it upon the cobblestones for the sake of my own research, which would consequently end shortly thereafter.

ICARINA

Your life is very valuable, sir.

LEONARDO

In a sense, yes. Certainly to me. But still… how shall we ever know? A bird is simply kicked out of her nest by her mother. Presumably, the mother knows the hatchling is ready. But we must cast ourselves out into the sky, without anyone to tell us we are ready.

LEONARDO eats. As he does so, ICARINA takes the wings down from the wall and affixes them to her back.

LEONARDO

Everything has a cause. Falling, even, has a cause. Yet there are those things that overcome this cause. The birds, the clouds, the Sun and Moon. We cannot be as vapor, as the clouds, nor transmute ourselves to living light, so we must emulate the birds, who ignorant of beauty are themselves most beautiful. I wonder if we, who know the majesty of flight, will ever be capable of it. I sometimes wonder if something as simple as walking is a thing of true beauty, and we who are so natural in it have no concept of such greatness. But we must know. We must risk. Diogenes carried the lantern in the daylight. Socrates drank the hemlock, unknowing of his fate and thence unfearing. We must leap. I must leap.

The lights above brighten again. ICARINA tests the weight of the wings. Finding them satisfactory, she crosses to the window and climbs into it, preparing to leap out.

Above, again, we hear the heavens sing, “Leonardo… Leonardo… come fly…” LEONARDO looks up and wonders, then with a gasp he looks to the window.

LEONARDO

Icarina! Don’t move!

ICARINA

I cannot stay earthbound, sir.

LEONARDO

Icarina! … (he stifles a chuckle) You have a very inauspicious name, Icarina.

ICARINA

We must fly.

LEONARDO

I do not think those wings will like you.

ICARINA

“Close to the sphere of elemental fire… in the highest and rarest atmosphere.”

LEONARDO

Icarina. Please. Come down.

ICARINA

Your life is valuable, sir. You are a man. I am…

The choir sings “Leonardo… come fly! Leonardo…”

            The lights go out as ICARINA leaps.

            The choir sings “… Dream!”

This script definitely needs work, but something interesting came out of something pretty uninspired. Diogenes was a tacked on character, based on a video game, but somehow became the focal point of the play. If nothing else, Diogenes’ dilemma is interesting.

Nevertheless

            Lights up on a bizarre research lab. It is a mélange of instruments both factual and fictional, running from the Enlightenment to the supposed future. Sitting at a table is Doctor SEMIRAMIS. She looks very much the typical mad scientist. At the table are several beakers and jars, some filled partially with various fluids. At present, SEMIRAMIS appears to be writing in a binder filled with tin foil sheets, using something like a pen that does not appear to feature any writing apparatus. She varies between sudden excitement and sullen boredom.

            Nearby is CURIE, a robot maid. Although she occasionally dusts or cleans something, she is clearly distracted by the satellite dish coming out of her head. Evidently, she is gleaning some information from it. CURIE is all business, and even this early on we see a distinct lack of deference for the life forms around her.

            After a moment, CURIE perks up.

CURIE

Doctor. (pause) Doctor.

SEMIRAMIS

Just a moment… (finishes “writing” something) Yes, Curie?

CURIE

I believe Mozart is nearing the perimeter.

SEMIRAMIS

(jumps up) Outstanding! Lower all the security protocols!

CURIE

Of course. (continues dusting intermittently)

SEMIRAMIS

(starts mixing and stirring chemicals) How long has it been?

CURIE

About a week.

SEMIRAMIS

(stops) Could you be more precise?

CURIE

(also stops) Nine days, three hours, seventeen minutes, and twelve seconds.

SEMIRAMIS

(pause) Thank you. (returns to the beakers)

CURIE

Of course, Doctor. (returns to dusting)

SEMIRAMIS

I know I’ve said this before, but I think this is going to do it.

CURIE

I cannot yet confirm whether he has any materials with him.

SEMIRAMIS

Good point, good point; no sense getting our hopes up over nothing. How soon? Will he?

CURIE

In less than a minute.

SEMIRAMIS

And all the security protocols? They are all…

CURIE

(very deliberately dusts one area) They are all offline. Of course. Doctor.

SEMIRAMIS

Come now, come now, you still remember the time you left the minefield activated when he was bringing back that pig carcass?

CURIE

I remember everything, Doctor.

SEMIRAMIS

Poor Diogenes was nearly barbecued, along with the pig.

CURIE

Strictly speaking, the dog is not necessary for our work.

SEMIRAMIS

Now now, Curie, not even you could be that heartless.

CURIE

I can. I do.

SEMIRAMIS

Mm. Yes. Well.

They both return to work. In a moment, we hear the sound of a door opening.

MOZART (offstage)

I’m back! I made it! I got it!

MOZART bursts onstage. He is dressed like a suburbanite from anywhere between 1950 and 1990. Although an adult, his energy and demeanor seem very much that of a child playing make believe. MOZART enters wearing a backpack, which he dumps on the floor. SEMIRAMIS screams.

SEMIRAMIS

Be careful with that! Our futures are contained in that!

MOZART

Huh? … Oh, that.

DIOGENES (offstage)

Oh, no, you go ahead. I’ll close the door. Don’t worry.

SEMIRAMIS

You’ve got it, yes? All of it?

MOZART

Is the Pope Catholic?

CURIE

What a strange idiom.

DIOGENES enters. He is a dog with very distinctively human features. He moves about both on all fours and occasionally hind legs, giving him more the aspect of an ape than anything. He is both exhausted enough to collapse, yet energized enough to milk it for attention.

DIOGENES

Ho-gaw… Finally… Jeeeeeebus… Okay. Officially, I am never leaving this machine again. (leans on MOZART to catch his breath) Let’s just, we just… we can just… Hokay… You guys just, do what you do. I’m gonna… I’m just gonna…

DIOGENES collapses, seeming to pass out. After collapsing, he stumbles around on the floor in a circle three times, then grows still. Pause.

SEMIRAMIS

You’ve got it all?

MOZART

Totally!

MOZART nudges the backpack with his foot, perhaps a bit more enthusiastically than necessary. SEMIRAMIS does everything in her power to not scream again.

SEMIRAMIS

(waving hands) Mozart! Don’t… Be careful!

MOZART

What? (nudges again) It’s not a bomb or anything. (nudges again).

SEMIRAMIS charges. She tackles MOZART, managing to get him away from the backpack without hitting it. Her energy is one of a trespasser stealing in someone’s home: she seems to think whatever is in the backpack could be affected even by excessive noise. At least, that’s how she feels now.

MOZART

What is the problem, Doc?

CURIE

Strictly speaking, Mozart, only you or Diogenes is needed for this exercise. Please consider that before you turn yourself into a greater liability.

MOZART

Hi Curie. Nice to see you again.

CURIE

I share no such sentiment.

MOZART

Yup. (to SEMIRAMIS) Hey Semiramis, what’s up?

SEMIRAMIS

Mozart. Tell me you were careful with that backpack on the way home.

MOZART

I was careful with it.

SEMIRAMIS

Tell me the truth!

MOZART

(pause) Well… do you – want me to tell you the tru—

SEMIRAMIS

Ahhhhh…

SEMIRAMIS rushes over to the backpack, but suddenly stops short as though approaching a bomb. She circles it a bit, then carefully begins to unzip it. As she does so, MOZART climbs to his feet and dusts himself off. CURIE snorts and begins to dust near MOZART. They continue this nonsense for a while, where MOZART knocks tiny dirt off himself, and CURIE dusts it away and back onto MOZART.

MOZART

What are you doing?

CURIE

You are an untidy person.

MOZART

Yeah, that’s why I get to go outside, right? Cause I’m enthusiastic.

CURIE

Expendable.

MOZART

Yeah, exactly.

SEMIRAMIS has opened the backpack and slowly starts emptying its contents onto the table. First, a sealed glass jar that appears to be empty.

MOZART

(examines jar) Yeah, that guy was a lot of fun. So what’s up, Doc, why the bomb-squad routine?

SEMIRAMIS has just produced a small, blue cactus and carefully places it on the table.

MOZART

I mean, what’s the problem: does that cactus have nitro-glycerin in it or something? (pause) Doc? (pause) Does that cactus have nitro-glycerin? Or something?

Finally, SEMIRAMIS produces a mostly intact human skull. She slows to an almost imperceptible speed as she begins to place the skull on the table.

 

MOZART

I’m concerned that you’re not answering my question. (pause) Semiramis? (pause) Doc? … Doc? Doc!

 

DIOGENES

(jumps awake) Huh? What?

 

Silence. Everyone, even CURIE, stares as SEMIRAMIS slowly, slowly, slowly places the skull on the table. When it finally comes to rest, SEMIRAMIS exhales.

 

SEMIRAMIS

That was close.

 

MOZART

What? What happened? Doc. What was close? Doc! What was close?

 

SEMIRAMIS

Nothing, I was just messing with you.

 

MOZART

What!?

 

SEMIRAMIS

I’m kidding, I’m kidding. Yes, you could have blown up.

 

MOZART

Doc!

 

SEMIRAMIS

Mozart, Mozart… This skull, it you did retrieve it from the exact coordinates I gave you…

 

MOZART

I did… I think…

 

SEMIRAMIS

Then this skull contains a thin layer of very volatile fungus on its inside –

 

MOZART

– Gross –

 

SEMIRAMIS

Which could lose its integrity if the skull suffers too much damage.

 

MOZART

Seems like something you could have told me.

 

SEMIRAMIS

I told you three times! “Be careful with the skull,” “Don’t break the skull,” “Treat the skull like a newborn baby.”

 

MOZART

Oh. Well, I definitely didn’t do that.

 

SEMIRAMIS has already gotten to work. She has sliced open the cactus and is squeezing its juices into a beaker. MOZART watches. CURIE is again focusing on her satellite dish.

 

MOZART

I wonder how alchemy would work in the real world.

 

SEMIRAMIS

Well, it wouldn’t. There’d be no alchemy, there’d be reliable sciences in stead. There would be no time machines, we wouldn’t be stranded for all intents and purposes at the end of the Earth, our only hope of rescue this quasi-magical nonsense that doesn’t seem to obey any readily observable rules. But then we also wouldn’t have Diogenes or Curie, so… life would be different. Fetch me a pair of tweezers, Mozart; be a lamb.

 

CURIE

I have the precision necessary.

 

SEMIRAMIS

Of course. There is a small, transparent fly in this jar. You may have trouble seeing it.

 

CURIE

You may have trouble seeing it. My sensors are effectively flawless.

 

SEMIRAMIS

Of course, of course. I’m going to open this jar. When I do, reach in and—

 

CURIE takes the jar, opens it, and carefully grabs something from within.

 

CURIE

Now?

 

SEMIRAMIS

Dump it in this beaker here.

 

CURIE

(done) Done. (returns to dusting) I anxiously await the reawaking of the Space Machine. There are many other planets in this universe that need to be cleaned.

 

MOZART

How many planets have intelligent life on them?

 

SEMIRAMIS

(produces a steel file) Don’t bother, Mozart. We’re fixing the Space Machine, and you and I are going home to the real world. Curie is welcome to “cleanse” this one all she wants.

 

MOZART

Yeah but, life on other planets—

 

SEMIRAMIS

It’s fake, Mozart. This world was cobbled together from algorithms based on imagination. That’s why alchemy is so imprecise: it might as well have been designed by a child. Even if Curie knows the number of planets that support intelligent life, that has no bearing on where we are going.

 

SEMIRAMIS cracks open the skull like an egg. MOZART hits the deck, expecting an explosion. SEMIRAMIS starts filing small bits into the beaker. MOZART slowly stands.

 

MOZART

What’s gonna happen to Diogenes?

 

SEMIRAMIS

Well, if he comes with us, whatever is real in the real world will remain. I imagine he’ll go back to being an ordinary dog.

 

DIOGENES

Meaning?

 

SEMIRAMIS

Have you ever read Flowers for Algernon? (pause) You’ll go back to being… not that smart.

 

DIOGENES

Ah.

 

CURIE

You are welcome to join me if you prefer. I shall appreciate an assistant, in case a mishap like this should happen again. Naturally, when the universe is finally cleansed of all life, I shall have to exterminate you as well. However, by the time that is accomplished, I expect you have long since died of old age.

 

DIOGENES

Oh. Good.

 

MOZART

So what are you gonna do?

 

DIOGENES

I don’t know. I don’t really want to do either of those things.

 

MOZART

Well… I guess you could stay here.

 

DIOGENES

Alone?

 

MOZART

I don’t know! You’re my best friend, Diogenes; I want you to come back with us, okay? But, I don’t know how you feel about… losing…

 

DIOGENES

My mind?

 

MOZART

Yeah. I mean… You knew we couldn’t stay here forever, right?

 

DIOGENES

Funny thing about being a dog, you don’t think about the future much.

 

CURIE

Paradoxically, robots think of little else.

 

DIOGENES

I think it would be like dying. You don’t dream, when you’re a dog. Not really, cause you don’t remember it when you wake up. You don’t really remember anything; you live in this eternal now. It was fine; it was good. But now, losing what I am now, losing thought… that feels like dying. It’s that, or follow this thing around while she wipes out the universe. Maybe I’d enjoy traveling: lots of interesting places. All reduced to scorched deserts. Just like Earth.

 

MOZART

Maybe…

 

CURIE

Try to stop me? I don’ think you require actuarial software to predict how that would turn out.

 

DIOGENES

(to MOZART) I’d still be there, with you… but it wouldn’t be me. (pause) This machine? This wasteland? This Hell you’ve been dying to get out of for however many years? This is the best option I have. But I can’t expect… I can’t ask you to stay here. Not when you have so many better choices before you. So I could stay here. Alone. Forever. Or… I dunno, I’m not really trying to say anything. I dunno.

 

Pause.

 

SEMIRAMIS

Well then, it’s time to find out if all this speculation even matters.

 

SEMIRAMIS takes the beaker over to a chute somewhere in the room. She opens it and pours the mixture in. They hold their breath. Lights flash, sounds go off, and we are given the impression of success.

 

SEMIRAMIS

Success! At last! We can finally go home…

 

MOZART

Great. Diogenes. What are you gonna do?

 

DIOGENES

Curie, you say it’ll take years to clean this universe? I could travel? I could see a lot?

 

CURIE

It is very likely.

 

MOZART

Could you stand that? Can you handle watching her destroy the universe?

 

DIOGENES

Dammit, that’s easy for you to say, cause you don’t have to watch it! Do you? You two, think about what you just did. If it weren’t for you, she would have been stuck here forever. This apocalypse is on your heads.

 

SEMIRAMIS

This isn’t real.

 

DIOGENES

Then I’m not real! Am I? Everything I think, everything I know, everything I say, it doesn’t exist in the real world. It can’t! Can it? So I’m fake too. Curie, do me a favor, just put me down now.

 

MOZART

Whoa! Wait!

 

DIOGENES

No! You did this to me! You have to stand there and watch.

 

MOZART

Come back with us!

 

DIOGENES

You want me to be your brain-dead pet again? Do you really think you can look me in the eyes, every day; in my dead, glassy eyes, knowing what I was? Can you watch that happen?

 

MOZART

(starting to cry) I don’t know! But I don’t want you to die! … Please. Please come back with us. I’ll do anything: I’ll read to you every day. I’ll try and teach you math, I don’t care how stupid I’ll look. I’ll do it.

 

Pause.

 

DIOGENES

I’ll stay here. This is my best option. You two go home. I’ll be fine.

 

MOZART

Alone? Are you sure? I’m sorry, Diogenes, but… you’re sure? I’m sorry; whatever you want, whatever you need, I’ll help you. I just can’t watch… Are you sure you’ll be okay here?

 

DIOGENES

(he pauses, just a fraction of a second too long) Yeah. I’ll be fine.

 

MOZART

Thank you.

 

DIOGENES

Sure.

 

SEMIRAMIS

Come on, Mozart. It’s time.

 

CURIE

Good fortune in your real world. Grant me no blessings in my quest; I shall not require them.

 

SEMIRAMIS

Curie, if I thought for a second that I could reduce you to dust, I would.

 

CURIE

Dust would be an ironic and ignoble end for me. Fare well.

 

SEMIRAMIS and MOZART step into a small chamber. Lights and sounds abound.

 

DIOGENES

Goodbye, Doctor Semiramis. What have you wrought, huh?

 

The chamber door shuts. More lights and sound. The door opens, and they are gone. CURIE approaches an apparatus and appears to be inputting coordinates.

 

CURIE

I am moving to the Horsehead Nebula. It contains a plethora of… filthy… life forms. One planet in particular has a robustly slovenly population of protoplasm that are as yet unfamiliar with good housekeeping. I shall disabuse them of their ignorance with extreme prejudice.

 

DIOGENES

Sounds like fun.

 

CURIE

Fun is superfluous. I have a mission.

 

DIOGENES

Fun, is superfluous…

 

CURIE

Why did you tell them you would remain here? You have no intention of remaining here.

 

DIOGENES

I didn’t… Fun, is superfluous… Did you know that in the real world, dog owners live longer than people who don’t own pets?

 

CURIE

Are you suggesting that dogs have the power to elongate a human lifespan? I think you are confusing the real world with this one.

 

DIOGENES

You’re right. Well, not about that. I do have no intention of staying here. Let’s got to the Horsehead Nebula.

 

CURIE

You wish to watch me clean the protoplasm?

 

DIOGENES

No. I’m gonna stop you.

 

CURIE

You are a dog. You cannot stop me.

 

DIOGENES

Sure I can. I’m gonna talk you out of it.

 

CURIE

Impossible.

 

DIOGENES

Sure I can. I’m gonna be your best friend.

 

CURIE

Negative; robots do not have friends.

 

DIOGENES

Maybe not in the real world. C’mon, Curie, let’s go bleach some protoplasm; sounds like a blast.

 

CURIE

When the universe is clean, I will destroy you.

 

DIOGENES

Sure ya will, sure ya will. (pause) Boy, I tell ya… In the real world, self-deception is a purely human phenomenon. Here? Who knows?

 

CURIE

I know. I will destroy you.

 

DIOGENES

Sounds great; lookin’ forward to it. C’mon, let’s go.

 

CURIE

Affirmative.

 

The two step into the chamber. Lights and sound. The door closes. Lights and sound.

            Black out.