The Plays
Today
by C H A R L E S L . M E E
A guy brings out a wooden box
and puts it down
and throws 15 or 20 wine bottles into it
throws them so hard they all shatter
and then he sticks his head down into the box
and does a head stand
and he gets a guy to stand on his neck
or the back of his head
to shove his head down hard into the box
and then he stands up
and his head and his face are covered with blood
and it wasn’t a trick
he didn’t have a trick
he just cut himself up all over his head.
Music.
Music.
Music.
Music.
Music.
Music.
Music.
Music.
Music.
Music.
Music.
People come through
from one side to the other,
in and out:
The five year old girl,
eating an ice cream cone, smiling,
sitting in a red wagon pulled by her father.
A golf cart, driven like crazy by a caddy,
while, in the back,
a couple embraces passionately.
A couple being pulled along on a picnic blanket
with food and a champagne bottle in a bucket,
and she is drinking and drinking and drinking the champagne.
An electric wheelchair—
a man driving,
a woman sitting on the handlebars,
she running her fingers through his hair over and over and over.
A skate board,
with a woman lying on her back on the skate board
as a man twirls it round and round in ecstasy.
A silk sheet, with silk pillows,
she lying back in her lingerie
he taking photos of her.
A homeless guy with cart of stuff.
A man and woman on a bicycle built for two—
one peddles while the other eats pizza.
A woman onlooker speaks:
TILLY
I would eat tarte tatins
and drink Chateau Neuf du Pape
and sometimes a glass of rose
sitting in the garden in the afternoon
and, if it wouldn’t hurt too much
or become a habit leading down the path to hell
I’d like to have just one cigarette every day
or even one every other day
with an espresso, in the café
one of the cafes
and then I’d drive out to the hospital
where Van Gogh spent that year
painting the cypresses and the olive trees
and you think:
he was crazy
and pathetic
what a tragedy
how he suffered
but you know
he turned out a hundred a thirty paintings
or a hundred and forty paintings
or, like a hundred and forty three paintings
like he turned out a painting every two and a half days
for a year!
that’s where he turned out The Starry Night!
I don’t even mention the olive grove
or the field with the red poppies
and that’s what I would do
I would be a painter if I could even just hold a brush right
if I just had enough talent to dip a brush into some paint
and slather it on the canvas
because that is a perfect life
you just get up in the morning
and you get your cup of coffee
and you wander into your studio
and whatever catches your eye is what you do
you think
oh, that painting I was working on yesterday
that could use a little splash of red up there near the top
and so you dip your brush into the paint
and you splash some red
and then a little yellow
some green here over on the right
you think
okay
I could put a sailboat up there in the sky
and then you have another sip of your coffee
and you notice the little ceramic vase
you had been working on the day before yesterday
and you think
I could put some kind of flat, muted purple
right there where its stomach bulges out a little bit
and then you see that drawing
that fell on the floor
off that table down near the other end of your studio
and you go to pick it up
and you just can’t resist
doing a little something to it
adding a little picnic table to the landscape
and by the time you finish that
you find yourself down at the other end of your studio
near the door out onto the terrace
so you go out onto the terrace
and sit at the little table there overlooking the vineyard
because by then it’s time for lunch
and your husband brings you a sandwich
and maybe a little glass of beaume de venise
and after lunch
you make love for the rest of the afternoon.
That’s the life I have in mind.
[And a guy standing on a kayak
that is on wheels
paddles himself in one side and across the stage
and out the other side
as 4 dogs
or 15 dogs
come through in the opposite direction—
well trained dogs crossing the stage independently,
or dogs on leashes with a guy taking them across the stage.
Music.
Music.
Music.
Music.
Music.
Music.
Music.
Music.
Music.
Music.
And a solo dancer in a red dress comes out
and a guy comes out
and another guy in a suit
and people come in from every direction
—all sorts of people,
a construction worker, a pole dancer, a secretary
and all 10 or 12 of the people
are making the same gesture together,
scattered all over everywhere
dancing the same gestures and moves
dancing
dancing
dancing
dancing
dancing
dancing
dancing
dancing
dancing
and the music is wild
and then they all just walk out.
And two guys are left on stage.
EDMUND
I think you are lying to me, Herbert.
You are always lying to me
because you wish something would be true
but it isn't.
You are a weak spineless person, Herbert,
feckless, feeble and ineffective.
But I love you like a cicada.
HERBERT
A cicada?
EDMUND
Yes.
HERBERT
Like a grasshopper you mean?
EDMUND
Do you know what a cicada is?
HERBERT
I thought I did.
EDMUND
There was a time long ago, in prehistoric times
when cicadas were human beings
back before the Muses were born.
And then when the Muses were born
and song came into being
some of these human creatures were so taken by the pleasure of it
that they sang and sang and sang.
And they forgot to eat or drink
they just sang and sang
and so,
before they knew it,
they died.
And from those human creatures a new species came into being
the cicadas
and they were given this special gift from the Muses:
that from the time they are born
they need no nourishment
they just sing continuously
caught forever in the pleasure of the moment
without eating or drinking
until they die.
This is the story of love.
If you stay there forever in that place
you die of it.
That's why people
can't stay in love.
But that's how I've loved you.
And how I love you now.
And how I always will.
Edmund turns and walks out.
And after a minute Herbert follows him out,
not to catch up,
just because he has nothing else to do.
Music.
Men and women run through in their underwear,
running back and forth
and one by one
and two by two
begin to dance to the music.
music.
music.
music.
music.
music.
music.
music.
music.
music.
So we have The Underpants Dance
The Underpants Dance
The Underpants Dance
The Underpants Dance
The Underpants Dance
The Underpants Dance
The Underpants Dance
The Underpants Dance
The Underpants Dance
The Underpants Dance
and then they all run out.
Two women are left on stage.
HIROKO
I'm glad to see you again.
CATHERINE
So you say.
And yet
I don't know how it could be true.
HIROKO
How could it not be true?
CATHERINE
Because if you were glad to see me
you would never have left me.
HIROKO
Of course I would.
CATHERINE
No, because
if you love someone
you don't leave them.
You hold onto them for dear life
you hold onto them forever
unless you are a stupid person
which I don't think you are
so
what else can I think
except you never really loved me
I was just another one of your flings along the way
whereas I loved you
I knew
if you love someone
you don't let them go
HIROKO
And yet you did.
CATHERINE
I never did.
HIROKO
You said:
if one day you are going to leave me
then go now
don't just keep tormenting me.
CATHERINE
And so?
HIROKO
And so.
It's not that I left you.
CATHERINE
Excuse me.
I didn't leave you.
And yet, you are not with me.
What else happened?
HIROKO
It turned out
we were at different points in our lives
we couldn't go on.
CATHERINE
I could have gone on.
HIROKO
Shall we talk about something else?
CATHERINE
I see
in the world
people have wars and they die
entire countries come to an end
Etienne has died of cancer
HIROKO
I didn't know.
CATHERINE
How could you?
And yet
there it is.
And one day I will die
and so will you.
And yet
you could leave me.
I don't understand.
I will never understand
how it is if you have only one life to live
and you find your own true love
the person all your life you were meant to find
and your only job then was to cherish that person
and care for that person
and never let go
but it turns out
you can still think
for some reason
because this or that
you end it
you end it forever
you end it for the only life you will ever live on earth.
Maybe if you would be reincarnated
and you could come back to life again and again a dozen times
then this would make sense
to throw away your only chance for love in this life
because you would have another chance in another life
but when this is your only chance
how can this make sense?
Do you think
there will ever be a time
when we could get back together?
HIROKO
No.
CATHERINE
Not ever?
HIROKO
No.
CATHERINE
Not ever at all
even ever?
HIROKO
No.
CATHERINE
And yet
this is so hard for me to accept.
More than anything
I love to lie in bed with you at night
and look at your naked back
and stroke your back slowly
from your neck to your coccyx
and let my fingers fan out
and drift over your smooth buttock
and slip slowly down along your thigh
to your sweet knee
only to return again
coming up the back of your thigh
hesitating a moment
to let my fingers rest in the sweet valley
at the very top of your thigh, just below your buttock
and so slowly up along the small of your back
to your shoulder blade
and then to let your hair tickle my face
as I put my lips to your shoulder
and kiss you and kiss you and kiss you forever
this is what I call heaven
and what I hope will last forever
[Hiroko stands to leave]
HIROKO
I love you, Catherine.
I have never loved anyone in my life as I have loved you
and I know I never will.
But we cannot be together.
She leaves.
A guy comes in with a wrecked, ruined tiny car
full of crap
boards and canvases
with awful Pollack like random scrawls of paint
and more smeared, dirty paintings and sculptures
that he takes out of the car
and puts leaning against the outside of the car
and
finally
gets a sign out of the car and leans that against the car, too,
a sign saying ART FOR SALE.
A bunch of people come in
one by one or two by two
and watch the guy put together his art gallery,
and some people bring in chairs
and little round café tables
and eventually everyone sits at the tables
watching him
and then starting a conversation.
The conversation is a dialogue between two people
of the sort we hear often in cafes,
but in this case
the two-person dialogue is spoken by
eight or ten people
in four or five different couples,
paying attention only to the person they are with,
not to the other people who are also talking.
TESSA
James?
JAMES
Tessa.
Oh.
EDNA
Have you found Amadou?
BOB
Amadou? Oh.
I don't know how we will ever find him.
The truth is I feel lost myself.
LILY
You're always lost.
It's your most reliable quality.
You're lost when you drive a car.
You're lost when you walk on the beach.
You're lost in your own thoughts.
If you weren't lost
no one would ever know where you were.
HENRY
Right.
Still
I hope we find him
for Meridee's sake.
TESSA
She'll be better off
if he's lost forever.
JAMES
How can you say that?
EDNA
Here is a guy who
the moment he meets his fiancée’s family
he turns around and runs away
and then
what?
he's going to make everyone run around and look for him
so that everyone gets lost?
BOB
Maybe sometimes it's not bad to be lost.
To be reminded how it is to step out into the unknown,
because,
whether a person is afraid or not
there is a certain sense of exhilaration
that comes from just throwing yourself into new territory
it sets you free.
TESSA
It does?
HENRY
Of course it does.
And what is life without an adventure?
EDNA
A guy will always say to you:
let's have an adventure,
when what he means is
he doesn't have a clue
where he is or what's going to happen next.
And then pretty soon he will end up asking you to marry him
because he doesn't know what to do next.
JAMES
It may seem like that
but it may be also that he knows
if I'm going to set out into the unknown
this is the person I'd like to set out with
because
even though she may seem a little
I don't know cynical and unromantic even
that could even be a good quality
when you need to face the difficult things in life
and even though it may seem she thinks the whole idea is
uh bullshit
that could just be coming from the place in her
that is vulnerable and scared
and you can tell
underneath that protective layer
there is a person who really wants something wonderful too
in life
and wants as much as you do
a life that is
thrilling.
LILY
Really?
BOB
Yes.
EDNA
I don't know if I'm the sort of person
who just relishes an adventure
in the unmarked trails of the wilderness.
I like the well-lit avenues
with street signs at every corner
a destination known in advance
and an up-to-date detailed map.
HENRY
Life doesn't come with maps.
LILY
Right.
JAMES
You can't let anxiety and fear and suspiciousness
and a lack of trust
yes there it is let's face it
a lack of trust
run your entire life
sometimes you have to let go
and just put yourself into freefall.
EDNA
You'll be there to catch me.
JAMES
Right.
[Ariel enters to the side.]
ARIEL
Are you proposing to me?
JAMES
Proposing to you?
LILY
Proposing marriage to me?
GEORGE
Oh.
Well, yes,
proposing marriage to you.
Yes, I guess I am.
EDNA
Out of what?
All of a sudden what?
Out of anxiety?
BOB
I think we're a couple,
so maybe we should be a couple.
TESSA
We are a couple,
we are a couple,
we are each other's significant other
ED
What is that?
EDNA
We can be together
but I don't think we can be engaged, or married
JAMES
We could be together:
what would that be like?
LILY
We could be like Simone de Beauvoir and Jean Paul Sartre.
JAMES
Jean Paul Sartre?
HARRIET
We go to cafes together
we walk around together
we talk a lot
sometimes we sleep together
just not the bourgeois marriage thing.
GEORGE
Because?
TESSA
Because
what is marriage anyway
if it isn't just part of the whole apparatus
of the control of people by
I don't even mention the patriarchy
but think of it
of control by the state
an arrangement where
the only way out of this system of self-policing
is in fact
adultery
or murder
an arrangement where
the whole population just willingly gives itself up
to an intensely repressive social order.
I mean
think of it:
imagine that society is required to create certain
character types
and personality types
in order to achieve its goals of stability and order.
And ask yourself
what mind-altering substance
could possibly compel an entire population
to submit to such total social integration
without even noticing it was happening
without uttering the tiniest peep of protest?
What possibly could do this better than
love
and marriage?
No.
We can be together,
this is good to be together
but
marriage....
I don't think so.
[she turns and leaves]
ED
Oh.
ARIEL
James?
BOB
Oh! Ariel!
HARRIET
I didn't mean to surprise you.
JAMES
No. No.
That's OK.
LILY
I just....
I couldn't help but....
Seeing you standing here
feeling lost and abandoned
my heart just
went out to you.
BOB
Your heart?
HARRIET
I couldn't help but feel
knowing how it is to feel suddenly abandoned
I couldn't help but feel
such tenderness for you.
[he looks around—who's speaking here?]
JAMES
Oh.
LILY
It's confusing I think
when a person steps into the middle of nature.
ED
Right.
TESSA
There are no guideposts
and all the rules are off.
[he looks around again]
GEORGE
Exactly.
ARIEL
You think you carry civilization with you
wherever you go
BOB
Right
HARRIET
and yet when you are in the middle of nature
and it's beautiful
so lovely it makes your head a little light
and you think
oh, well
nature!
GEORGE
That's true.
HARRIET
and so you just lose your head.
I just
it's just
everybody went running out of the house
all of a sudden
everything fell apart
suddenly we're in the wild.
HENRY
Right.
LILY
And a person could feel totally unhinged.
I saw you here
you seemed so sweet and vulnerable
I thought:
am I falling in love with you?
ED
You did?
LILY
Is this just a feeling I never knew I had
and all at once
for no reason that I know
now I know it?
BOB
You do?
ARIEL
Sometimes I think no one knows what they are doing
they just do it
and then they wonder and wonder.
All they can do is wonder.
GEORGE
Yes.
Yes.
[Ariel kisses James.]
JAMES
Oh.
[A guy with a bird for a head enters,
looks around at everyone who is there.
And now we hear an American musical song from the 20s
and the birdhead dances to the music
the birdhead dances to the music
the birdhead dances to the music
the birdhead dances to the music
the birdhead dances to the music
the birdhead dances to the music
the birdhead dances to the music
the birdhead dances to the music
the birdhead dances to the music
the birdhead dances to the music
the birdhead dances to the music
the birdhead dances to the music.
A three hundred pound guy
in a wife beater undershirt
steps out on stage.
[Or, this could be done with a video projection
with the people at the café tables watching.]
His hair slicked back, he’s wearing sunglasses,
and, if this is done in video projection,
he sits in a black leather desk chair in his office,
with shelves with stuff on them,
papers on the table next to him,
his shirt tossed over something behind him.
He speaks:
Hey, the big man's back. www.thekidfrombrooklyn.com.
You know, the big man got up this morning
you know I felt like having a hot cup of coffee
and a piece of pound cake
I wound up in one of them Starbucks you know
I knew the joint wasn't right soon as I walked in you know
I seen these people sitting on couches
lounge chairs
whatever they were fucking drinking
they looked like fucking ice cream cones
fucking mounds of fucking whipped cream
and fucking all kinds of shit on top you know
finally I get up to the girl
she says you want an el grande?
you want a chocolate latto?
carmelo latto?
cherry lite?
I say listen honey
I don't know what kind of fucking place this is
I just want a large fucking coffee
and a fresh piece of fucking pound cake you know
she says that's seven dollars
plus she had the fucking balls
to have a fucking tip cup over there
she expect me to give her a fucking tip
I says seven fucking dollars for a fucking coffee
and a fucking pound cake?
fucking stick it
I went right around the corner to fucking Pancake House
I take an oath to my mother
I take the fucking breakfast special
two eggs over, home fries
bacon, sausage, two pancakes
all the coffee you can drink
threw in a shot of fucking OJ
and for an extra buck and a half
they gave me a fucking cheese danish
I walked out of there fucking stuffed
cost me eight and a quarter for the whole fucking ball o' wax
I could have eat the rest of the fucking day
what's a fucking working man supposed to do?
you go to one of them fucking Starbucks
the poor working guy
what do they think they're fucking serving over there?
fucking liquid gold?
fucking cup of coffee and a piece of pound cake
for seven dollars?
stick it up your ass, fucking Starbucks!
what about the fucking working man?
anyway, thinking about it
this is the old Big Man
www.thekidfrombrooklyn.com
and the Big Man's always happy to see you.
The people at the café tables leave
one by one and two by two
and come back right away
with a billion musical instruments
so they are a giant orchestra
but they don’t really play these instruments:
they make amazing sounds with them
ending with a Big Noise
Big Noise
Big Noise
Big Noise
Big Noise
Big Noise
Big Noise
Big Noise
Big Noise
Big Noise
Big Noise
Big Noise
and, while they play,
a couple keeps falling down a set of two or three steps
like rag dolls
and then
a blonde sings a duet with a guy
a blonde sings a duet with a guy
a blonde sings a duet with a guy
a blonde sings a duet with a guy
a blonde sings a duet with a guy
a blonde sings a duet with a guy
a blonde sings a duet with a guy
in the midst of the Big Noise
and the whole crowd joins in the singing
singing
singing
singing
singing
singing
singing
singing
singing
and finally
one woman’s harsh almost screaming singing
screaming singing
screaming singing
screaming singing
screaming singing
screaming singing
screaming singing
screaming singing
screaming singing
screaming singing
screaming singing
dominates the room
and the others stop singing one by one
and stop making noise with their musical instruments
one by one
and finally
people begin to leave one by one
and the very last guy tries to stop her screaming singing
so she kicks the shit out of him
gets him down on the ground
pounding and kicking him
while she finishes the song
and then she gets up and leaves angrily
and he pulls himself together more slowly
and finally is able to leave.
A woman comes in and puts a soft cello case over her back
so she looks like a cockroach
and a guy steps through a door and sings a love song
a love song
a love song
a love song
a love song
a love song
a love song
a love song
a love song
a love song
a love song
a love song
a love song
a love song
a love song
a love song
a love song
and we see
on his T shirt it says:
(with an arrow pointing up)
the man
(and with an arrow pointing down)
the legend
and the woman does a cockroach dance on the floor.
While the guy continues to sing
another woman tap dances
and another woman in bikini underwear runs in and out
left to right
right to left
a guy ditto
A ballet dancer goes through doing high kicks
and a woman in a nice black dress
with a living room floor lamp
walks around with the lamp,
not knowing what to do
so she finally dances with the lamp
And a guy in underpants wearing a crown
and covered in gold leaf
sits down and eats a sandwich
CATHERINE
More than anything
I love to lie in bed with you at night
and look at your naked back
and stroke your back slowly
from your neck to your coccyx
and let my fingers fan out
and drift over your smooth buttock
and slip slowly down along your thigh
to your sweet knee
only to return again
coming up the back of your thigh
hesitating a moment
to let my fingers rest in the sweet valley
at the very top of your thigh, just below your buttock
and so slowly up along the small of your back
to your shoulder blade
and then to let your hair tickle my face
as I put my lips to your shoulder
and kiss you and kiss you and kiss you forever
this is what I call heaven
and what I hope will last forever
HAROLD
I listen to your voice, I think
I could nestle right into it,
I could crawl right up inside it
you take me to a world that frankly
seems not altogether rational to me
more a world of tarot cards and chakras and the I Ching
mystical stories and folk tales
I guess I’m saying stories from the heart
I could get happily lost in your world
just letting go of my mind
and feeling your sweetness and your vulnerability
your tenderness and frankly your generosity
your lack of judgment of me
even though
or even at the same time really
that you were raking me over the coals
at the same time not holding it against me
as though it were some final judgment
sending me to hell
but just speaking the truth
that seems so generous to me and ultimately loving
in the deepest and truest sense
that I have to say
I’ve come to think of you almost as a mountain.
Like a mountain rising up from a lake
smooth and soft
covered with fuzzy fir trees
but solid rock underneath
strong and everlasting
the valleys and crevices
the swelling softness
the little village on the shore
nestled into the mountainside
secure, protected
settled there for eternity
on the breast of the earth.
I look at you, I think
Mother Earth.
ARIEL
I love you, with all my heart.
I love your hands and your kneecaps and your hair and your ears
and I love the way you are sweet when you are sweet
and the way you fuck up
because even when you fuck up
and it makes me so mad
you are actually so incompetent at it
such a wild, untargeted loser that I love you
because I think the reason you are such a loser
is that your heart is good
and so you can't hit the bullseye
when you are acting like a nasty shit
so that people don't have to take it seriously
and they can just wait till you realize
how wrong you've been
and also right
also right
because I don't think you are a pathetic loser
that people love out of pity
or because they want to be with some weak
useless guy they can manipulate
you really are a winner
because of your heart
which is always there
and when you come around
we all see it
and see you always were a good human being.
HAROLD
People are unique, each one of them.
I knew a fellow
who used to go to a bar in Oregon
where he knew a couple of women
who were willing
to go up to his hotel room with him
watch him strip naked,
get into a tub of bath water,
and walk back and forth.
His only request was that the women
would throw oranges at his buttocks
as he walked back and forth.
Then he would get out,
pick up the oranges,
put them in a paper bag,
get dressed,
and leave.
That’s simply how it was for him
how he was able to connect to another human being
in an affectionate way.
This went on for some years
this relationship among the three of them.
In a sense, you might say,
this is the way in which they were able to constitute a human society
in which they felt comfortable.
Freud never explained that.
MARIA
Sometimes a woman likes sex,
and not always something gentle and considerate
sometimes a little wild or it could be ridiculous
like a ride on the handlebars of a bicycle
and therefore she will do something wrong to have this
and not be very proud of having done it
but not be needing a lecture afterwards
from a person pretending to be a sort of moral authority
or even actually being a sort of moral authority
but even if he is
being a little boring and depressing because of it
a little like a heavy thing
as much as she hates to say it
because she may feel this person is a really good person
deep down
deeply good and kind and considerate
and deserving real love in return because of that
not just some stifling person who ought to be snuffed
but in his own way
even if it is not her way
in his own way even lovable
but possibly lovable by someone else.
[A homeless guy sits against the back wall
drumming on rusted cooking pots
and plastic wastebaskets
with metal drumsticks—
drumming
drumming
drumming
drumming
drumming
drumming
drumming
drumming
drumming
fantastically well.
While he drums
men and women
solo
and in pairs and groups
all in their underwear
run and dance through
again and again
pairs run around and around in circles
with arms outstretched, smiling happily
running in pairs and groups
solo runners
parting and returning together
everyone smiling
2 guys jump up and down
up and down
up and down.]
MOLLY
Did you hear about this two ton guy?
PETER
Two tons?
MOLLY
About two tons, something like that, you know, like 240 pounds, five feet four, who didn't want to admit he was fat and so he wore clothes several sizes too small for him. He had a 44 inch waist but he wore pants size 38, and he choked himself to death on his shirt collar. One minute he was eating spaghetti with his fork and the next minute he was on the floor gasping for breath, and his shirt was so tight no one could get it unbuttoned. He died with a forkful of spaghetti in his hand.
[SILENCE]
I knew this guy who killed himself with his pants.
PETER
How did he do that?
MOLLY
He let them get so tight they choked off his circulation and he had a heart attack.
PETER
You mean he gained weight?
MOLLY
Sure.
PETER
A lot of weight.
MOLLY
I don't know. I guess so.
[Silence]
Did you hear about the little girl who fell into the washing machine?
PETER
I don't think so.
MOLLY
This is a true story. She was, like, 2 years old, and her mother had gone to take a shower, so she climbed up to look into the washing machine and she fell in and turned blue and her eyes were glassy.
PETER
Did she die?
MOLLY
No.
PETER
That was lucky.
MOLLY
That's like this guy who's a champion skier who skied off a natural little ski jump and landed head first in a snowbank and suffocated to death.
PETER
Sort of like that.
MOLLY
There was another guy.
PETER
This isn't going to be another story about death, is it?
MOLLY
No. There was a guy who died—I mean it starts out about death, but then it doesn't stay there. There was this guy who died but then he came back to life...
PETER
I think I've heard this story.
MOLLY
Wait. He came back to life and this is how he proved he had died. Wait a minute. Start it this way. There was this kid named Charan Varma from India who claimed he had been killed by British soldiers in 1857 during the Sepoy Rebellion. He said he had been shot twice in the chest, and slashed over and over with sabres after he was dead—by British soldiers (I don't know why)—and nobody believed the kid, so he led four archaeologists out to this grave where they dug up a mummified corpse that had the fragments of two bullets in the chest and markings on the rib and legs and arms consistent with stab wounds and sabre slashings. And this corpse had on the remains of a uniform worn by sepoy soldiers.
[silence]
FETER
Well. So.
What did he learn from the experience?
MOLLY
Learn from it?
PETER
Has he learned anything from coming back to life?
FIGLLY
Well.
He forgives the British.
PETER
Unh-hunh.
Really, nobody knows whether he was telling the truth or he had already been out in the field, happened to dig up a body in a shallow grave, see the uniform, and make up the story.
MOLLY
Sure, anything is possible.
PETER
Yes, well, some things are more likely than others.
MOLLY
Sure. That's what makes this such an amazing story. This is the first time anyone has proved there is life after death.
[A guy sings a love song into a mike
sings
sings
sings
sings
sings
sings
sings
sings
while he wears a roller blade on one foot
and he goes in circles
while
a man and woman at a table
eat rice cakes and spit them out
as they sing with the guy
and, now and then,
throw cotton candy and cake at each other.]
EDITH
Do you believe in love at first sight?
HAROLD
No.
EDITH
Neither do I.
And yet there it is:
I’d just like to kiss you.
HAROLD
Oh.
EDITH
I think for me it took so long to be able to love another person
such a long time to grow up
get rid of all my self-involvement
all my worrying whether or not I measured up
HAROLD
Yes.
EDITH
or on the other hand
the feeling that perhaps other people were just getting in my way
wondering if they were what I wanted
or what I deserved
didn’t I deserve more than this
to be happier
is this all there is
HAROLD
Right.
EDITH
Or I thought
I need to postpone gratification
and so I did
and I got so good at it
I forgot how to seize the moment
HAROLD
breaking hearts along the way if someone else was capable of love
at that earlier age when you weren’t
EDITH
exactly
and now I think: what's the point of living a long time
if not to become tolerant of other people's idiosyncrasies
HAROLD
Or imperfections.
EDITH
you know damn well you’re not going to find the perfect mate
HAROLD
someone you always agree with or even like
EDITH
and now you know that
you should be able to get along with someone who’s in the same ball park
HAROLD
a human being
EDITH
another human being
HAROLD
because we are lonely people
EDITH
we like a little companionship
HAROLD
just a cup of tea with another person
what's the big deal
EDITH
you don't need a lot
HAROLD
you'd settle for very little
EDITH
very very little when it comes down to it
HAROLD
very little
and that would feel good
EDITH
a little hello, good morning, how are you today
HAROLD
I'm going to the park
OK, have a nice time
I'll see you there for lunch
EDITH
can I bring you anything?
HAROLD
a sandwich in a bag?
EDITH
no problem
I'll have lunch with you in the park
HAROLD
we'll have a picnic
and afterwards
I tell you a few lines of poetry I remember from when I was a kid in school
what I had to memorize
EDITH
and after that a nap or godknows whatall
HAROLD
and to bed
EDITH
you don't even have to touch each other
sure, what
a little touch wouldn't be bad
HAROLD
you don't have to be Don Juan
have some perfect technique
EDITH
just a touch, simple as that
HAROLD
an intimate touch?
EDITH
fine. nice. so much the better.
HAROLD
that's all: just a touch
that feels good
EDITH
OK, goodnight, that's all
HAROLD
I'd go for that.
EDITH
I'd like that.
HAROLD
I'd like that just fine.
EDITH
I'd call that a happy life
HAROLD
as happy as it needs to get for me
EDITH
Sometimes in life
you just get one chance.
Romeo and Juliet
They meet, they fall in love, they die.
That's the truth of life
you have one great love
You're born, you die
in between, if you're lucky
you have one great love
not two, not three,
just one.
It can last for years or for a moment
and then
it can be years later or a moment later
you die
and that's how it is to be human
that's what the great poets and dramatists have known
you see Romeo and Juliet
you think: how young they were
they didn't know
there's more than one pebble on the beach
but no.
There's only one pebble on the beach.
Sometimes not even one.
[Repeat the lovely dance of the red dress woman
from early in the piece.
She joined by all the other dancers.
And then the whole stage floor is covered in paper
on which the dancers draw with pencils
and blood red and black ink with a sponge
so in the end you have a raked stage floor that looks like
an Arshile Gorky painting.
The red and black ink runs down the rake into the gutter
as almost all the dancers leave.
A woman lifts her dress up above her head
hiding her upper body entirely
exposing herself from the waist down
and takes a long, slow exit.
So, alone, covered with red and black ink—
after a pervasive feeling of tragedy has overcome everyone
spattered with blood and dirt
looking wrecked
a couple dances on
really tenderly
and lovingly
to a heartbreaking piano solo
a heartbreaking piano solo
a heartbreaking piano solo
a heartbreaking piano solo
a heartbreaking piano solo
a heartbreaking piano solo
a heartbreaking piano solo
a heartbreaking piano solo
a heartbreaking piano solo
a heartbreaking piano solo
a heartbreaking piano solo
a heartbreaking piano solo.
The End.
Charles Mee's work has been made possible by the support of Richard B. Fisher and Jeanne Donovan Fisher.
