Arch de Triomphe

Day 30, Play 30: Arch de Triomphe

LIGHTS UP. JANE is up, watching The Daily Show.
Sounds, off, are TOM, fumbling with the key.

JANE:
Hi!

TOM:
I’m home!

JANE:
Yay!

TOM:
Thank god!

JANE:
I was beginning to worry.

TOM:
What a day!

JANE:
Quite a day, yes.

TOM:
Got the car working.

JANE:
The Volkswagon? How?

TOM:
Solenoid, not starter. $20 spare part compared $200 special order.    Worth a try, anyway.

JANE:
But—

TOM:
Bought a flashlight and monkey wrench at the auto parts store along    with a solenoid.

JANE:
For $20?

TOM:
Not counting the flashlight and monkey wrench.

JANE:
Still.

TOM:
I saved the 75 bucks for a tow.

JANE:
Mein Held! That’s German for “My hero!”

TOM collapses onto the bed.

JANE:
How was your mom’s surgery?

TOM:
Was that today?

JANE:
This morning, yes.

TOM:
Fine. She was fine when I left her at, what, eight? Visiting hours were over.

JANE:
Was she awake?

TOM:
In and out.

JANE:
But it went okay.

TOM:
Doctor Borelli said it couldn’t have gone better.

JANE:
Is she still talking about Dr. Borelli?

TOM:
Said he ate yellow jello at the foot of her bad last night. Around 2am,      she said.

JANE:
Jeez! What does her real doctor say?

TOM:
The appropriately named Doctor Hunt? Ironically, I still haven’t seen him. I’d think he was as much a phantom as Borelli if I hadn’t seen his name on her charts.

JANE:
Did you get a hold of her doctor? What’s his name, Dunn?

TOM:
No, I left a message with his service. I don’t think he gets ‘em.

JANE:
Anything else?

TOM:
Talked to Marv about the website. He seemed confident we could swing it for what we can afford.

JANE:
I meant about your ma.

TOM:
No. She looked good when I left her.

(beat)

JANE:
That’s good about the website.

TOM:
Yeah.

(beat)

You know, you get through a rough patch, with an over dose of stress, gnawing uncertainty and herculean effort, and your reward is… well, that you got through. There’s no ticker-tape parade.

JANE:
No.

TOM:
And sometimes I just feel like—

The telephone rings, interrupting him. TOM looks at his cell,
sighs, and looks at JANE. JANE backs gracefully out of the room to give TOM some privacy.

JANE:
I’ll be right back.

TOM:
Hi mom! …Yeah, they didn’t used to let patients have phones by their beds, that’s right. … So, you know where you’re at? … I didn’t mean anything by it , Mom, I just— He was. Did he have some more lemon jello? … No, I don’t think even doctors are allowed to smoke there. … No, not even after hours. … No, that’s right, you’d have smelled it, and it would’ve set off the alarms. … Well, because— I don’t know, Mom. It’s a way for immigrants to advance, I guess. Yeah, she’s— No, not Filipino, I think she’s
Sudanese or something. … Well, even if she were Filipino, she wouldn’t speak Chinese. … No, you’re probably right there. Listen, I gotta get off of here, I’m exhausted. … Yeah, in the morning. First thing.
Okay, good night. I love you too.

TOM hangs up, sighs, relaxes. The instant he does so,
the phone rings again. TOM answers.

TOM:
Yeah, whadja forget, Mom? … In Paris? … That’s called the Arc d’ Triumph. … Yeah, there was a famous photo or something, of the Nazis marching through it. … Okay, maybe it was the American army. … You were alive then, I wasn’t. … Well, that one was from the French Revolution, I think, but the Romans built them all over Europe. … Yeah, whenever they conquered a new province, they’d erect on the road to Rome. … Yeah, like your own National Geographic. … Sure, I’ll see you then.

TOM hangs up. JANE enters, ripping pieces of scrap paper
into small pieces, which she sprinkles over TOM head.
TOM smiles broadly as LIGHTS FADE TO BLACK.

END OF PLAY.

Day 31, Play 31

“31 Plays in 31 Days”: Day 31, Play 31:

STEWART is at the PC. LIZBETH enters.
She reads over his shoulder.

LIZBETH:
Last Day.

STEWART:
Last Day.

LIZBETH:
What’s this one about?

STEWART:
I’m not sure yet. I’m never sure.

LIZBETH:
Did you ever write the verse play you were talking about with a sword duel in it?

STEWART:
No.

LIZBETH:
Kids trap a zombie in the basement?

STEWART:
Nope.

LIZBETH:
“Piddles, the Cat Who Could Fly?”

STEWART:
I wasn’t going to call it that. That was the name of the sketch the two writers were working on.

LIZBETH:
Oh. That’s too bad. I liked that title.

STEWART:
Never wrote it.

LIZBETH:
“Steward for the King Beyond the Waters”?

STEWART:
No. I liked that tile.

LIZBETH:
Couldn’t you write it?

STEWART:
Maybe one of these days.

LIZBETH:
The Cox Airplane Incident?

STEWART:
Someday.

LIZBETH:
The two guys on the raft?

STEWART:
Perhaps.

LIZBETH:
Logan at the Airport.

STEWART:
I hope to.

LIZBETH:
The one about the Dudley Brothers.

STEWART:
The Duddings. Maybe

LIZBETH:
That’s more than a week’s worth, right there. You gonna shoot for another month?

STEWART:
Are you serious?

LIZBETH:
Are you?

BLACKOUT. END OF PLAY.

The Rules of Scrabble

Day 29 Play 29: The Rules of Scrabble

TED and DENISE are playing Scrabble. TED shifts tiles.

TED:
You didn’t shake the letters up enough.

DENISE:
You shook them.

TED:
I got the same letters as last time.

DENISE:
All the I’s?

TED:
None of your business.

DENISE:
I though ibid was a good play. The B on the triple letter.

TED:
That was last game. I don’t have I’s now.

TED places tiles.

Your turn.

DENISE:
What’s that?

TED:
Ibex. It’s a… African bird, or… or antelope or something.

DENISE:
Eight, nine, twelve: fourteen. And the B is doubled. Had to get rid of that X, eh?

TED:
I’ve been holding it a while.

DENISE stares at her tiles. TED stares at her.

TED:
How many tiles do you have?

DENISE:
I don’t know. Why?

TED:
You have eight.

DENISE:
So?

TED:
You’re supposed to have seven.

DENISE:
Why does it have space for eight?

TED:
How long have you been drawing eight tiles?

DENISE:
Why?

TED:
You won the last two games.

DENISE:
Would having an extra tile be an advantage?

TED:
It could be.

DENISE closes her eyes, selects a tile, and places it in the box,
face down.

TED:
What do you think you’re doing?

DENISE:
Putting back the extra tile.

TED:
But you saw what it was.

DENISE:
No I didn’t. I closed my eyes.

TED:
But you know which one it was when you look at your tiles. You see which one you put back.

DENISE:
So?

TED:
So, it’s not right. Now you know that that letter is out there. That I don’t have it.

DENISE:
What difference does that make?

TED:
It takes out the strategy! You might feel safe to play something because you know I don’t have a…

DENISE:
P, for example.

TED:
Don’t tell me!

DENISE:
Why not? Now we both know.

TED:
Now I know you don’t have a P.

DENISE:
So we’re even.

TED:
No, we’re not! You’re destroying the whole game!

DENISE:
Destroying? You’re over-reacting.

TED:
There are rules, Denise.

DENISE:
Oh, no! Here we go. The Rules of Scrabble.

TED:
There are Rules of Scrabble.

DENISE:
They’re—

TED:
They’re written in the box.

DENISE:
Where?

DENISE picks up the box to read the rules on the inside.

TED:
Don’t!

DENISE:
This is worse than when you play Trivial Pursuit.

TED:
Scrabble isn’t Trivial Pursuit! Scrabble is serious. Trivial Pursuit has no rules. That’s the problem. You have to make up your own.

DENISE:
This is why I hate game night.

TED:
Because you don’t like rules.

DENISE:
Because I don’t like your version of them.

DENISE picks up the box again.

TED:
You’re not going to—

DENISE:
I’m sick of this.

TED:
No.

DENISE:
I don’t want to play anymore.

DENISE upsets the box, letters falling on the board.
A beat. Will TED become angry?

TED:
You’re only allowed to do that in Monopoly.

DENISE:
Well played.

LIGHTS FADE TO BLACK. END OF PLAY.

Any Friend of Tookey

Day 28, Play 28: Any Friend of Tookey…

Two men sit at a bar, facing the audience. They are
MATT GOTTSHALK and DOUG MALLARD, drinking
quietly and talking low.

MALLARD:
You the guy Tookey said?

GOTTSCHALK:
Yeah.

MALLARD:
Tookey said you need papers.

GOTTSCHALK:
Yeah, Took said you could hook me up.

MALLARD:
You tight with the Took?

GOTTSCHALK:
I must be. This is a solid.

(beat)

MALLARD:
Your name?

GOTTSCHALK:
Matt Gottschalk.

MALLARD:
No! I mean, in your name, or an assumed name?

GOTTSCHALK:
Assumed name.

MALLARD:
Okay. Any old name, or you got preferences?

GOTTSCHALK:
Specifically, Paul Gottschalk.

(beat)

MALLARD:
Relation?
GOTTSCHALK:
He’s my brother.

MALLARD:
Won’t he be needing his identity?

GOTTSCHALK:
He’s dead.

(beat)

MALLARD:
How’d that happen?

GOTTSCHALK:
In a way so as he won’t be needing his identity.

(beat)

MALLARD:
So: What? Standard DMV, his name, your picture? Social. You want credit cards?

GOTTSCHALK:
No, I’ll use his.

MALLARD:
But you need other gee gaws in your wallet. Spare business cards, maybe  a family picture. None of ‘em have to be functional, they’re just dressing, so to speak.

GOTTSCHALK:
Set dressing. Interesting. Yeah. Just so the document itself doesn’t come under question. I want a clear trail of him exiting the country.

MALLARD:
So you want the ID to get flagged for investigation later, but pass closer inspection now.

GOTTSCHALK:
You got it. Paper trail of his exit via Toronto. Maybe Montreal.

(beat)

MALLARD:
What really happened to him?

GOTTSCHALK:
Some bad debts and things. He shot himself.

MALLARD:
But you don’t want him to be dead.

GOTTSCHALK:
No.

MALLARD:
It won’t make trouble for the wife and kids?

GOTTSCHALK:
His? No he’s got nothing.

(beat)

MALLARD:
I can have this for you in two days.

GOTTSCHALK:
Tookie said if I paid extra, you could expedite. If an indictment is handed down before I get the ID, they’ll flag me at the border. Our friend said you might swing it, for a price.

MALLARD:
But you’re not my friend. And I want to know more about your brother.

GOTTSCHALK:
I didn’t have anything to do with it, if that’s what you mean. I mean, he suggested it. He looked at it the same way I did. We were both going to be ruined. One of us could make it look like we did it alone and hid it from the other one. Give the other guy an out.

MALLARD:
So he just elected to do that, did he?

GOTTSCHALK:
We flipped. He lost.

MALLARD:
Why didn’t he just leave the country for real?

GOTTSCHALK:
He didn’t steal enough to live abroad. Even alone.

MALLARD:
You take out an insurance policy or something?

GOTTSCHALK:
That would have been smart. Didn’t think of that.

MALLARD:
Next time, come to the professionals first. Paul Gottschalk, right?

GOTTSCHALK:
I got his information here.

GOTTSCHALK hands him a thick envelope.

MALLARD:
Two days, tops. We don’t get it in one, you pay the regular rate.

GOTTSCHALK:
How will I know?

MALLARD:
You come by in a few days and say you lost your ID. They look in the lost and found drawer. And there you are.

GOTTSCHALK:
Okay.

(beat)

MALLARD:
How’d he do it?

GOTTSCHALK:
Drove off into the desert somewhere. Took his Glock with him. They’ll never find him. If they don’t, it’ll be seven years before they declare him—

GOTTSCHALK chokes up.

MALLARD:
Dead.

GOTTSCHALK:
Yeah.

MALLARD downs his drink, rattles his ice.
sets his drink on the counter.

MALLARD:
Your brother didn’t lose that flip.

MALLARD exits. GOTTSCHALK stares out.

LIGHTS FADE TO BLACK. END OF PLAY.

Reza’s Suras

Day 27, Play 27 – Reza’s Suras

LIGHTS UP on CAPT questioning WOMAN.

CAPT:
I understand I don’t need a translator.

WOMAN:
No, I’m Western educated. My English is not heavily accented. Occasional grammatical errors.

CAPT:
But you make your living writing in Arabic.

WOMAN:
I’m a journalist.

CAPT.
Oh, I’d call you a creative writer. Aren’t you the author of these, these tracts? “Reza’s Suras”

WOMAN:
I am the translator of them into English.

CAPT.
You’re not Reza?

WOMAN:
My name is Maryam.

CAPT:
That’s pretty. But it doesn’t rhyme with “Sura.”

WOMAN:
I believe that’s called a “happy accident.”

CAPT:
Only, it does rhyme, doesn’t it?

WOMAN:
In any language. And Reza, or his sources, rhyme in Arabic. Or the Arabic equivalent of rhyming. I don’t. I translate literally.

CAPT:
Why translate these into English at all? Who’s your audience?                       Is this supposed to scare us?

WOMAN:
These verses purport to be a kind of truth. Everyone should know            the truth.

CAPT:
These verses.

(reading)

“When the moon is in the Holy Month
The Defenders of Faith take their places.
The Sweet Feast begins, the moon in the East.
They take their revenge on the Invaders.

The Green Zone shall not shelter them
as The Green Banner of Allah is raised.
For a month the New Saracens rage
The Invaders, routed, depart for the West.”

(singing:)
“When the Moon / Is in the Seventh House / And Jupiter collides with Mars…”

Our analysts tell us that the English is crafted to appeal to the Western mind, and is not couched in terms that suggest it was translated from the Arabic at all.

WOMAN:
They are loosely translated. I assure you, these are Reza’s verses. Whether he indeed found them buried in an urn as he says in his Sura 17—

CAPT:
But who is Reza? That’s the question.

WOMAN:
I don’t know. I’m not Reza. My name is Maryam.

CAPT:
Pretty name. Meriam, in Hebrew. Marya in Greek, Maria in Latin.       What’s Reza?

WOMAN:
It’s from an Arabic word. It means the contentment between Allah          and Islam.

CAPT:
But it’s a guy’s name. Reza.

WOMAN:
It is, I think, a Farsi name.

CAPT:
That would indicate that the Iranians are involved.

WOMAN:
The man I met was not Iranian. They speak Arabic with an odd accent. And the verses are not Shiite. I’m sure your analysts informed you of that.

CAPT:

(reading:)
“The Throne of Peacocks is thrown down
Rightly guided is the Caliphate.”

“Pharoah’s doom, as the generals cry down
War upon their own. Sword or scimitar,
Steel shall rule.”

You understand, of course, why we’d want to talk to the person who wrote these “Suras.”

WOMAN:
Allah.

CAPT:
Reza.

WOMAN:
You’re threatened by him.

CAPT:
A collection of what purport to be verses written in the 15th Century predicting an Islamist uprising in the 21st Century. In, sorry, what’s that    to you?

WOMAN:
Subtract 632.

CAPT:
Your 15th Century.

WOMAN:
I understand why you’d want to talk to him.

CAPT:
Like talking to Nostradamus. Better poet, assuredly. Better predictor of events, I don’t know.

WOMAN:
The best predictor of events is the self-fulfilling prophecy.

CAPT:
Well, you’re the walking, talking Self-fulfilling Prophecy.

(reading:)

“When the Traducer is captured,
Her words flaming in glory,
Then will the Invader see
How words can be made to flame.”

WOMAN:
My own personal favorite.

CAPT:
You’re the Traducer.

WOMAN:
Flaming in glory. I have a bomb inside of me. Literally. Sewn into my hide. Tick. Tick. Boom.

She thumps her chest three times with her fist.

BLACKOUT. In the black, the word “boom” resonates
loudly through the theatre . END OF PLAY.

I’ll Be Mother

Day 26, Play 26 – I’ll Be Mother

IN THE BLACK, an air-raid siren. LIGHTS FADE UP
on Margaret, 14, and Helena, 8, two waifs who’ve
returned to their neighborhood in London during
the Blitz.

MARGARET:
Oh, for Pete’s sake, Helena, come on.

HELENA:
My shoe’s untied!

MARGARET:
Haven’t I taught you how to do up your laces, young lady? Haven’t I?

HELENA:
I forget. Just tie them for me this time, Margaret. Please?

MARGARET:
We can’t stop every hour on the hour for this, Helena.

HELENA:
My feet hurt.

MARGARET:
Be a big girl, Helena!

HELENA:
I am a big girl. My feet hurt.

MARGARET:
I’ll give you a toffee if you stop complaining.

HELENA:
Can I have an Eccles cake?

MARGARET:
We’ve got two left. If you stop complaining, and don’t stop walking for    the next hour. And learn to tie your shoes. We’ll have our tea and the Eccles cakes.

HELENA:
You have tea?

MARAGRET:
I took a tin of it.

HELENA:
I’m telling Mumie. I want an Eccles cake now.

MARGARET:
Well, you can’t have one. How about a Pontefract?

HELENA:
Ew! No, they turn your teeth black.

MARGARET:
Do you still have your toothbrush?

HELENA:
What toothbrush?

MARAGRET:
The one they gave you at the home.

HELENA:
I think I lost it.

MARGARET:
You can use mine.

HELENA:
EW!

MARAGRET:
Or do without

HELENA:
I’m tired of doing without.

MARGARET:
Well, we’ve got a bit more of it, before we see Mummie again.

HELENA:
She sent us away

MARGARET:
She didn’t want to.

HELENA:
She sent us to a bad place.

MARGARET:
She sent us to Scotland.

HELENA:
Because we were bad.

MARGARET:
We weren’t bad, Helena. Other people were bad. They sent the fireworks, remember, and Mummie was afraid— Mummie didn’t want the fireworks to frighten us. So she sent us away.

HELENA:
How come we had to live with the bad children?

MARGARET:
That was a mistake. We weren’t supposed to go to the orphanage, we were supposed to go straight to a nice foster home.

HELENA:
I didn’t like the Froster home.

MARGARET:
No.

HELENA:
It was cold all the time, but they said they didn’t have any money for cold.

MARGARET:
Money for coal. No, a chilly reception that was. They must have thought they’d get posh children with extra pocket money to spend on coal.

HELENA:
Mister Froster was nice. He gave us candy.

MARGARET:
Mister Froster wasn’t really very nice at all.

HELENA:
Mrs. Froster got mad ‘cause he liked you.

MARGARET:
Yes.

HELENA:
And those other girls. They were mean.

MARGARET:
They were in a bad spot. I don’t blame them. Anyway, we got clear of that.

HELENA:
Mister Froster yelled.

MARGARET:
I’m sure it hurt him, but he’ll not be maimed by it. Thought about it, but no.

HELENA:
And I ran all the way to the train station. And you didn’t think I could do it.

MARGARET:
Good for you, Helena. Now we’ve only got a little way more before we get our flat.

HELENA:
Where is it?

MARGARET:
It’s down from the factory. But where’s the—

HELENA:
No Fractury.

MARGARET:
No, we must’ve got turned around. There’s Tyburne Street. That can’t be the—

HELENA:
It is. There’s Mummie’s gate!

MARGARET:
Then this must have been Tyburne.

MARGARET falls apart. She’s been sustaining a terrific run, getting free of foster home, training south from Scotland, navigating the city of London. She collapses.

HELENA:
Margaret! It’ll be okay. We’ll find Mummie. She went to the Tube, didn’t she? We’ll just have a cuppa and then go down to the Tube and find her.

You got them Eccles cakes? Cup of tea, we’ll feel better.

(beat)

C’mon, then. I’ll be mother.

LIGHTS FADE TO BLACK. END OF PLAY.

Presence

Day 25, Play 25: Presence

 

JEFF is asleep, but fitful. ADRIANA lies next to him. Sitting on the end of   the bed is THE HAG, standing behind her is TOP-HAT. Neither JEFF nor ADRIANA see them. JEFF’s fitful sleep ends with him blinking awake.

                                                                                ADRIANA:

Shhh… See, I’m here. No old hag. No man with the top hat. No evil forces present in the room.

                                                                                JEFF:

They don’t always come.

                                                                                ADRIANA:

No. But about fifteen per cent of people get them at least once in their life.  They’re called night terrors. Usually involves paralysis, palpable sense of menace. It’s a phenomenon—

                                                                                JEFF:

You don’t have to tell me. I’ve been with them since I was a kid.

                                                                                ADRIANA:

So, they know their stuff when it comes to scaring you. They’ve been doing it twenty-five years.

                                                                                JEFF:

Don’t make jokes. This isn’t funny.

                                                                                ADRIANA:

I don’t mean to. I know you experience this as real terror. What I’m telling you is, they’re not here. Whatever you experienced, I understand. But do you see them in this room?

                                                                                JEFF:

Not now.

                                                                                ADRIANA:

Has any other person ever been in the room with you when you saw them?

                                                                                JEFF:

No.

                                                                                ADRIANA:

Is all I’m saying.

                                                                                JEFF:

What do you think they are?

                                                                                ADRIANA:

Jeff, honey, you kinda put me on the spot. I don’t think they’re just a figment of your imagination.

                                                                                JEFF:

They’re—

                                                                                ADRIANA:

Too many people see them and all see them the same for it to be that. But you claim you see flesh and blood people in the room.

                                                                                JEFF:
I see a flesh and blood hag and her top-hatted friend.

                                                                                ADRIANA:

Yeah, yeah, strangely, what a lot of people claim to see. But where’s        the evidence of that? They don’t show up on cameras,  no one’s ever identified them.

                                                                                JEFF:

But they’re real.

                                                                                ADRIANA:

That’s weird, though. Right?

                                                                                JEFF:

Yeah. Weird. What if they are real?

                                                                                ADRIANA:

Shhhh. What if they’re not real?

HAG and TOPHAT just sit there. LIGHTS FADE TO BLACK.

                                                                                 

Luther Gone

“31 Play in 31 Days” – Play 24, Day 24: Luther Gone

 

DAMASK ROSE,30s-40s,  lounges on a sofa with an anti-massacar, looking like her namesake. PEARL, 20s,L is sewing a bead on her skirt, a white maid-of-honor dress with spangles. HASTY, barely 18, is an excitable girl  in a frilly slip.

                                                                                PEARL:

He hasn’t called. 

                                                                                DAMASK ROSE:

He don’t never call.

                                                                                PEARL:

He don’t need to, Damask Rose.  He just come by for the money.

                                                                                DAMASK ROSE:

He be by.

                                                                                HASTY:

He ain’t been by for the money. Not for this whole month.

                                                                                DAMASK ROSE:

Don’t you think about spending none of that money He be by.

                                                                                PEARL:

No,  don’t spend it. But where he gone to? Luther say he going to Memphis on business, but then we hear ’bout Big Luther from Biloxi takin’ up with some high-colored whore there, puts on like she white.

                                                                                DAMASK ROSE:

I didn’t hear that. I didn’t waste my time listening to gossip from no unhappy whore come down here from Nashville wanna tell tales about how Big Luther behaving in Memphis.

                                                                                PEARL:

He cuttin’ quite a figure there. People talk in other cities. Memphis,        now Nashville. He big, Luther.

                                                                                HASTY:

Maybe what we hear is true.

                                                                                PEARL:

What you hear, Hasty?

                                                                                HASTY:

Well, I ain’t put no stock in it til now, but this drummer come down through Memphis tell me he hear Luther done been in a knife fight.  He cut real bad. The other man dead.

                                                                                DAMASK ROSE:

Drummer don’t know nothing! Don’t know Luther.

                                                                                HASTY:

He said big man from Biloxi. Knife-fight over a woman.

                                                                                DAMASK RISE:

Drummer don’t know nothing.

                                                                                PEARL:

What we do he don’t come back?

                                                                                DAMASK ROSE:

What you mean, what we do?

                                                                                PEARL:

All that money, all at once. Pretty near everybody could use that to get somewhere and start over.

                                                                                DAMASK ROSE:

We gotta save that money, Pearl, try to live off it, try to manage, until Luther come back an’ take care of things.

                                                                                HASTY:

Or til he don’t. When that gonna be? I’m with Pearlie. Divvy it up and  go home. Whether Luther get knifed or no.

                                                                                DAMASK ROSE:

Luther come back, he gonna crack your hide with a whip, you see he don’t.

                                                                                PEARL:

Luther done been knifed to death over a high colored in Memphis, Damask Rose. If it ain’t that, then some high-colored whore done turned his head, and he ain’t never comin’ back here.

                                                                                DAMASK ROSE:

Drummer say his name was Luther?

                                                                                HASTY:

Drummer just say he a big man, coal-black, sportin’ a damask rose pinned to his hat-brim.

                                                                                PEARL:

You keep the money for Luther. You keep his books. Luther ain’t comin’ back, Damask Rose. He gone.

There is a long pause.

DAMASK ROSE:

I’ll get the books.

BLACKOUT. END OF PLAY.

Group Therapy is Tuesdays

“31 Plays in 31 Days” – Group Therapy is Tuesday

At LIGHTS UP, DOUGLAS confronts EVERRETT.                 

                                                                                DOUGLAS:

Okay, is this for real?

                                                                                EVERRETT:

Depends on what you’re talking about, man.

                                                                                DOUGLAS:

This ad in the O.B. Weekly: “Jobs –Him… Jobs –Her… Bikes. Boards.” Here it is: “Blow Your Mind.”

 

                                                                                (reading)

               

Reality Shifts, Inc.   We can rid your life of unwanted shifts in reality.

* Do you end up with single socks when you know you put pairs of socks into your load of laundry?

* Have you found your keys or wallet some place other than where you know you put them just a few minutes earlier?

* Have you thought of someone or something, and moments later been startled when they appeared  unexpectedly?

That is totally me.

                                                                                EVERRETT:

Many people recognize themselves in these—

                                                                                DOUGLAS:

Totally.

                                (reading)

* Have you noticed time behave in other than a regular, linear forward motion?

* Do traffic lights turn green and traffic jams clear up just when you most need them to? 

Dude, that is totally me.

                                                                                EVERRETT:

Traffic lights change for you, do they?

                                                                                DOULGAS:

Of course not. But I had four out of five: the sock thing, keys and wallets, startling appearance, rupture in linear, forward time.

                                                                                EVERRETT:

Yes, you have experienced four of the five signs. Come in, come in.  Look, we have another guest for the bookstore. Come, we’re having a reading    in just a little while. Usually we do group therapy,

Tuesdays, but tonight we’re having a workshop on a regression therapy text. Sit here until it’s time.

                                                                                DOUGLAS:

Yeah.

                                                                                EVERRETT:

Tell me about this rupture you experienced in the linear time-frame.

                                                                                DOUGLAS:

Well, I was riding a motorcycle on a beach down in Baja, and we went over this one dune, and it was a bluff and we came down on this equipment.     It was a pretty bad crack-up. They brought us

back across the border in a ambulance. Time pretty much stood still.

                                                                                EVERRETT:

Mm-hm. How long?

                                                                                DOUGLAS:

Since then, pretty much .

EVERRETT dredges up a clipboard.

                                                                                EVERRETT:

I’m going to ask you 10 questions.

                                                                                DOUGLAS:

OK.

                                                                                EVERRETT:

Agree or disagree. “I have noticed coincidences and synchronicities in   daily life.”

 
                                                                                DOUGLAS:
Yes. Most definitely.
                                                                                EVERRETT:
“I often find parking places when and where I need them most. “
                                                                                DOUGLAS:

Agree.

                                                                                EVERRETT:

“I sometimes put things (keys, wallets, coat) down in one place, only to find them missing

or in a completely different location later on — or notice something missing from the place I knew I had just seen it.”

                                                                                DOUGLAS:

That’s true.

                                                                                EVERRETT:

“I pray for people or animals to heal, and witness miraculous recoveries. “

 
                                                                                DOUGLAS:

No.

                                                                                EVERRETT:

No?

                                                                                DOUGLAS:

No.

                                                                                EVERRETT:

“I’ve experience of time seems to—

                                                                                DOUGLAS:

Yes!

                                                                                EVERRETT:

—slow down, stop, or speed up. “

                                                                                DOUGLAS:

Yes, yes.

                                                                                (long pause)

Yes.

                                                                                EVERRETT:

“I occasionally see things jump, leap, or fall without anyone moving them (such as a book or groceries falling off a shelf).”
                                                                                DOUGLAS:

Occasionally.
                                                                                EVERRETT:

“I’ve seen business signs showing first one set of hours (that they’ve “always” had)… then on another occasion, seen that same business with a different set of hours (that they’ve “always” had) — or noticed other striking changes in the physical appearance of buildings and signs that people assert have “always” been one of the two ways I’ve observed.
                                                                                DOUGLAS:

Oh my god, dude. Totally.
                                                                                EVERRETT:

“I’ve seen doors (such as car doors) be locked, then unlocked – or unlocked, then locked – with no person locking or unlocking them. “

 
                                                                                DOUGLAS:

What? No.

                                                                                EVERRETT:

“I’ve seen things transformed into something very different from what they had been before (such as faces looking different, or pictures in books or on the walls appearing different).”

                                                                                DOUGLAS:
Let’s come back to that one.

 
                                                                                EVERRETT:

“I’ve bent spoons, keys, coins, or other metal without forcing the objects to bend.”
                                                                                DOUGLAS:

That’s just silly.
                                                                                EVERRETT:
You scored 70% That’s pretty high.

                                                                                DOUGLAS:

I’m fairly gullible.

                                                                                EVERRETT:

Altered reality. You’ve experienced it. That’s enough to confuse any of us!

                                                                                DOUGLAS:

I’m not confused.

                                                                                EVERRETT:

But you said—

                                                                                DOUGLAS:

I’m just gullible.

                                                                                EVERRETT:

Well, you scored just swell. Come on in. We have an alternate reality        for you.

                                                                                DOUGLAS:

I wasn’t really in the market for one. I was just wondering—

                                                                                EVERRETT:

What?

                                                                                DOUGLAS:

About exceptions to the regular, linear forward motion of time.

                                                                                EVERRETT:

Yes.

                                                                                DOUGLAS:

And whether you had found any relief from it

                                                                                EVERRETT:

To what?

                                                                                DOUGLAS:

Exceptions to the regular linear, forward motion of time?

                                                                                EVERRETT:

You’ve read our pamphlet.

                                                                                DOUGLAS:

Many times. Have you guys figured it out yet, or are you still just toying with the fragile minds ofpeople weakened by sickness?

                                                                                EVERRETT:

If you find that you’ve experienced any one of these ten—

                                                                                DOUGLAS:

I know that. This is an exception to linear time itself. What I’m having right now!

                                                                                EVERRETT:

It is?

EVERRETT displays himself as if taking rays at Copacabana.

                                                                                DOUGLAS:

No, it doesn’t work that way. It’s just me. I’m the only one who will know.

                                                                                EVERRETT:

Know what?

                                                                                DOUGLAS:

About the shift in time.

                                                                                EVERRETT:

Have you read our pamphlet? You’ll find a lot of people who believe like you do.

                                                                                DOUGLAS:

No, I’m the only one who will ever know.

                                                                                EVERRETT:

You might want to take a look at our #5.

                                                                                DOUGLAS:

Is this for real?

                                                                                EVERRETT:

Depends on what  you’re  talking about, man!

BLACKOUT. END OF PLAY.

Hurray for Heroditus!

PLAY 22, DAY 22 – Hurray for Heroditus!

PROFESSOR is looking at a fragment of papyrus, using tweezers  and a mangifier.

PROFESSOR:
Heraclitus. He was born in Ephesus, in Anatolia, to a wealthy family, sometime in the 6th century. He’s mentioned by Diogenes in relation to the 69th Olymiad. Big believer in The Logos, as he called it. Panta rhei – “Everything flows.”

Potamoisi toisin autoisin embainousin, hetera kai hetera hudata epirrei

“Ever-newer waters flow on those who step into the same rivers.”

Pretty good Greek, for an Anatolian.

There’s only fragments of his work –that is, references to him in Diogenes and others. Plato, notably. If this piece proves to be his, to be authentic…

DEVIL enters from the shadows.

DEVIL:
Yes, that’s the deal, Professor.

PROFESSOR:
And I get to discover it. I’ll be the discoverer.

DEVIL:
That’s the deal.

PROFESSOR:
My name goes down in history as the discoverer of a lone document of Heraclitus.

DEVIL produces a pen with which to sign.

DEVIL:
Yes. Fine feather in your cap for a lifetime dedicated to scholastic drudgery.

PROFESSSOR:
Otherwise?

DEVIL:
All you’ve achieved in a lifetime: The charmingly illustrated children’s book, Hurray for Heroditus! I believe the illustrations even won some sort of prize.

PROFESSOR:
My son. Won a Caldecott Medal.

DEVIL:
But an authenticated text by Heraclitus?

PROFESSOR:
It would do well.

DEVIL:
A Pulitzer, perhaps a Nobel.

PROFESSOR:
What happens if I don’t take it?

DEVIL:
Understandable. A certain moral quibble. Scruple, what-have-you. There’s never any penalty for not signing. That would be unethical. There are others; that’s our method.

PROFESSOR:
Others?

DEVIL:
Others that would love to publish this. Professor Crawford, for example, would be keen on it.

PROFESSOR:
That charlatan!

DEVIL:
I’m sure.

PROFESSOR:
A monstrous mountebank!

DEVIL:
I’m quite sure of it. How can you doubt it? A scholar of his obviously inferior qualities, both social and academic, making such dizzying successes of his rather meager mind? Who did you think was responsible? And popular with the ladies. Yes, a charmer.

I’d much rather give this to you. A real plumb, this is.

PROEFESSOR:
Are you saying, I’d be saving it from his hands by taking it?

DEVIL:
Yes. He’s actually much more easily bought. But you, you deserve to be  the Great Discoverer. He gets your leavings. Not the other way around.

PROFESSOR:
No, no I don’t want to be the Great Discoverer—

DEVIL:
Good Professor, you deserve this.

PROFESSOR:
No. I want no credit. Just don’t let it go to— or rather, let Crawford   get whatever profit he can get from it. His own deal with the Devil.      I congratulate him. His price just went up.

DEVIL:
What if I just burn it?

DEVIL burns some flash paper.

PROFESSOR:
That fragment of Heraclitus. You wouldn’t dare! Then no one will ever know of it, know it existed.

DEVIL snaps his fingers, and there’s another paper.

DEVIL:
What if it gets revealed to be a fraud of your invention?

This paper also catches fire, singes PROFESSOR’s beard.

PROFESSOR:
You are an exacting devil, but I don’t believe you can visit that on me. If so, like Job, I suppose I would be disgraced of the Lord. That would be my burden to bear.

DEVIL:
You’re an exacting client, Professor.

PROFESSOR:
I’ll see you again, then?

DEVIL:
Nightly, in your dreams.

PROFESSOR:
Will I remember this dream, or just have it again?

DEVIL:
Whichever one is more exacting. We’ll decide later.

PROFESSOR:
I shan’t give in to you. I pray nightly.

DEVIL:
And yet I continue to appear in yours dreams, shall we say unbidden?

PROFFESOR:
Do you appear like this to everybody?

DEVIL:
No, different every time. You, you’re a tough one. Usually it’s just        a lass a fellow would sell himself for, or a sack of coin. Maybe they assigned the wrong devil. I don’t really understand what drives you, do I?

PROFESSOR:
Close.

DEVIL:
Oh I will. I’ll figure it out.

PROFESSOR:
No, I don’t think you will.

DEVIL exits. PROFESSOR smiles, for the first time.

PROFESSOR:
Perhaps if you read the book. Hurray for Heroditus!

LIGHTS FADE TO BLACK. END OF PLAY.