Scenes for Small Actors: Chapters 5-6

SCENE ONE: Souks and Bondage

The distant present.
A place of repurposed dust.
Skeletal divide.
Restless hum of fear.
The air is thirsty and the light is unwelcome.
Faded banners and flags hang like ghostly undergarments.
A stained glass window floats freely.
The crumbled remains of columns.

An elderly MERCHANT appears and unfolds an aging rug.
He unpacks and arranges invisible wares.
A noise is heard from offstage.
The hum of a public address system.
A VOICE is heard from a close distance.
It is almost music.

VOICE
Allah hu Akbar. Allah hu Akbar.
Allah hu Akbar. Allah hu Akbar.
Ash-hadu allā ilāha illallāh. Ash-hadu allā ilāha illallāh.
Ash-hadu anna Muhammadan rasūlullāh.
Ash-hadu anna Muhammadan rasūlullāh.
Hayya 'alas-salāt. Hayya 'alas-salāt.
Hayya 'alal-falāh. Hayya 'alal-falāh.
Allah u Akbar. Allah u Akbar.
Lā ilāha illallāh. Lā ilāha illallāh.


*Adhan loose translation: Allah is the Greatest. I bear witness that there is no lord except Allah. I bear witness that Muhammad is the Messenger of Allah. Make haste towards prayer. Make haste towards welfare. Make haste towards the best thing. Allah is the Greatest. There is no Lord except Allah.

As the VOICE nears the end of the speech, a series of bells are heard.
And then silence.

MERCHANT
Apricots. (Pointing) Good for stomach.
Mint? Mint. (Rubs it between his fingers)
Yes, for tea. Good for moving blood.
And, look the grapes.
The rice. The salt.
(Opens a vial and sniffs it. He coughs.)
It is very strong! Phew! Spicy – not
for children.
You have children?
(He knows just the thing.)
I think the micks call it poteen.
A pretty dumb name but by the morning
what you call it is not all that important.
Or, well, there is the powdered milk.
What? That? That there?
That is a fine Japanese radio. Very rare.
And look here. Feel… feel how soft…
Oh! Watermelon! Ha ha! But be careful –
It always marks its territory!

A YOUNG VENDOR appears with a briefcase under his arm.

YOUNG VENDOR
Cinco! Cinco!

MERCHANT
And here is walnuts. They have a white heart!

YOUNG VENDOR
Cinco! Cinco! Five dollar! Five dollar!

MERCHANT
Or almonds. Almonds as big as cucumbers!

YOUNG VENDOR
Five dollar! Five dollar! Cinco…

MERCHANT
And cucumbers as tender as baby fingers!

YOUNG VENDOR
Cinco! Cinco! War of the Worlds!

MERCHANT
Figs as white as jasmine…

YOUNG VENDOR
Lord de Los Anillos!

MERCHANT
…as fresh as the cold morning’s dew

YOUNG VENDOR
Cinco! Terminator!

MERCHANT
Pomegranates!

YOUNG VENDOR
Erin Brokovitch!

MERCHANT
Sweet…

YOUNG VENDOR
Muy caliente!

MERCHANT
…like roses…

YOUNG VENDOR
Nuevo y viejo!

MERCHANT
…good for the newly weened baby.

A particular noise is heard from offstage.
A bomb.
Alerted, the YOUNG VENDOR sets down the briefcase and vanishes.
The MERCHANT is impassive.

MERCHANT
Televisions. T-shirts. Ah! Polaroid camera.

He looks up to find himself alone. He hawks regardless.

MERCHANT
A goat. Dry beans.
Cheese. Wine. Aspirin.
Good and Plenty. Ha ha! My wife likes this.
Ehh… Not much use for those these days.
But these I know I sell too cheap.
New York Times.
Liberal cow piss!
Washington Post.
Cow piss!
Yesterday’s bread. (Sniffs.)
Still edible.
Ripe nightshades.
You’re not allergic? No?
And this? Well, eh, I don’t know
what it is for. Maybe though it
would look good to hang on a wall?
Now here are pieces of history – believe it,
these are even older than me!
But wait… Still more…
Like a compact mirror.
Expired condoms.
Disposable diapers.
Nike shoes.
Calling card.
Green card.
Russian whore.
Arab whore.
Arab blood.
Arab oil.
Motor oil.
Cigarettes.
Medicines.
Designer shades.
(Looks about him. Can’t be too sure.)
These, I’m told, were Saddam Hussein’s.
Could be true, since they smell like shit.
Errr… Then again, I take those back,
Those are not for sale.
There’s too much risk.
But maybe you like
The Beatles’ Greatest Hits?
Barbecue sauce.
Swiffer mop!
Bowling trophy.
Afro-pop.
Baklava.
Bobble head.
Heart attack.
Democracy.
Oprah. Kafka.
Kentucky Fried Chicken.
The body of Christ.
The Birth of a Nation.
The special sauce.
The Shiite militia.
Security camera.
Smith and Wesson.
The land of the Frisbee.
The home of the foreclosed.
The Quran for Dummies.
Hmmm… no, no, no.
(Constructing ideas. Suddenly, he claps his hands together.)
MTV?
Ecstasy?
LSD?
PCP?
WMD?
NBC?
LED?
Q&A?
R&R?
D&D?
B&B?
DNC
UNC
CDC
AZT
ART
ROB
OLD
GOD
HOT
QED
BLT
SAT
PIE
LIE
SOB
VIP
GPB
GVP
NYC
NOT
OBG
DIG
OTC
JPV
NRV
PLD
JYP
MOB
TXT
PIG
CIC
LCD
Krispy Kreme!
Coffee bean!
Coca-cola!
Ha-ha-ha!

The MERCHANT laughs.
He opens his hands and begins to count his invisible profit.

The lights begin their retreat.
Colored light seeps in as if the stained glass window were melting into the air.
A sound approaches carrying its own echo.
It is a chorus of Bulgarian girls singing a song of regret.
The women wear black robes and black veils obscure their faces.
Their open palms stretch forward; a white powder covers their hands.
The MERCHANT ignores the chorus and rolls up his rug.

MERCHANT
Ha-ha! But it’s late and you’re tired and I talk too much.
Me, I’m like a turtle at the end of the day, I pull in my
valuables and cart them away.
Come back tomorrow!
But not before noon.

Bells ring in the distance.
The MERCHANT notices the briefcase on the ground.
Seeing no one around, he picks it up and looks inside.
Two masked men enter to find the MERCHANT staring at the contents of the box.
The CHORUS finishes their song.
The following sequence happens at shotgun speed:
Just as the MERCHANT closes the case, the CHORUS slaps their hands together once like a guillotine and produce a small white cloud.
The two MEN throw a black sack over the MERCHANT’s head.
Blackout.



SCENE TWO: Al-Ghouta Vibrations

An orchard oasis.
Blindfolded young men are tied to the trees with orange rope.
The HERO, a handsome man with the posture of a God, preaches to them.

HERO
You are tested, boys! You are tested!
The call is to you, princes of the
Forgotten City! Listen, princes!
It is the duty of birth
to hear the call.
It is the duty of birth
to answer.
It is the duty of birth
to submit.
To sacrifice.
To spit blood.
To breathe.
To bury your hearts in the bricks
of fallen Empires!
To spill the barrels of your limbs
and sow the seeds of your fertile history!
You are tested, now, to lift up valleys
and push mountains back into the Earth.
It is the duty of birth
to die.
It is the duty of birth
to cry out.
Unbend the crooked rivers and roads
and make straight the way of the Lord.

On the heels of this speech, a FARMER enters with an empty crate tied to his back. Several yards behind him carrying a tall ladder, his scrawny SON struggles to keep up.
The HERO sneaks off into hiding.
When the FARMER and his SON enter, neither notice the boys tied to the trees.

FARMER
Keep up! Keep up! We haven’t got all day.

The SON scrambles in and uses his remaining strength to lean the heavy ladder against a tree. The FARMER removes the crate from his back and hands it to the SON.

FARMER
Now, keep up! Keep up!
You must be a man today.
You must be strong.
You must be alert.
You must keep up.
Are you strong, my son?

SON
I am strong.

FARMER
Are you alert?

SON
I am alert.

FARMER
Are you a man?

SON
Yes, father.

FARMER
Yes, father?

SON
Yes, father. I am a man, father.

FARMER
Good. Now, you know the drill.
And watch out for cobras.

The FARMER climbs the ladder and disappears into the treetop.
His SON holds the crate out in front of him and leans his head back to watch his father’s movements.

FARMER
“Grow every tree that is pleasant to the sight, and good for food.”

SON
Genesis.

FARMER
Right!

The SON runs to the right and catches an invisible fruit in the basket.

FARMER
“Behold, I make all things new.”

SON
Revelation.

FARMER
Right!

The SON runs to the right and catches an invisible fruit in the basket.

FARMER
“Put not your trust in Princes.”

SON
Psalms.

FARMER
Left!

The SON runs to the left.

FARMER
“Speak to the earth, and it shall teach thee.” Left!

The SON runs to the left.

SON
Deuteronomy.

FARMER
Wrong! Right!

The SON runs to the right.

SON
Job?

FARMER
Right! Left!

The SON runs to the left.

Right!

The SON runs to the right, but misses the invisible fruit.

Keep up, son! Keep up!

SON
Right.

FARMER
Left!

The SON runs to the left.

“As cold waters to a thirsty soul, so is good news from a far country.” Right!

The SON runs to the right.

SON (quickly tiring)
James. Ugh! No. No. It is…

FARMER
No! Left! Left!

The SON runs to the left.

SON
Proverbs!

FARMER
Right!

The SON runs to the right but there is nothing to catch. As soon as he does, his father yells:

Left!

The SON stumbles and runs to the left.

Keep up, now! Keep up!

SON (breathless)
Yes. Yes, father.

FARMER
“To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven.” Right! Be alert! Right again!

The SON runs to the right, but trips and falls.

Left! Left! Son!

The SON fumbles to his feet and fetches the fallen crate.
He hesitates, then runs to the left.
The HERO, who has been spying this scene from behind a tree, quickly nabs the SON, wrapping his arm tight around his torso and covering the boy’s mouth with his hand.
The SON makes little attempt to fight back.

Answer me, boy! And pick up that fruit!

HERO (imitating the Son)
Uh… uh… Ecclesiastes.

FARMER
Aha! You are not so dumb after all! Left!

The HERO pulls the SON towards an empty tree.

Right!

The HERO quickly blindfolds, gags, and ties the SON to the tree with orange rope.

Left!

The HERO then runs to the far edge of the orchard.
He cups his hands to make his speech sound distant.
He makes barking sounds and yells.

HERO
To the orchard! The orchard! Kill the fruit thieves! Run! Charge!

The HERO makes more barking sounds and then hurries behind a tree.

Bring your rifles! Bring your axes! Let loose the dogs! Secure the borders!

The FARMER is alarmed and begins to scurry down the ladder.

FARMER
Come! Come, my son!
The crate – hurry – we must go!
Keep up!

He pulls down the ladder and turns to see the abandoned crate and fallen fruit, but nowhere his SON.
Desperately he scans the orchard.
From behind the tree, the HERO imitates a baying hound.

You miserable shit! Deserter!

He awkwardly grabs the ladder but is forced to leave the crate.
He makes his bitter getaway, screaming as he exits.

May God’s mercy or the hound’s fang find you, you worthless bug!

The HERO appears content with his success.
He inspects the abandoned crate and pulls out a very real ripe red pear.

HERO
Princes of Great Memory,
You must become men today.
You must be strong.
You must keep up.
Resurrection is the duty of birth
and retaliation is the prescription.
This Eastward garden buds at
tongue and table.
Death begins at breakfast.

The HERO removes the SON’s gag and stuffs the pear into his mouth.
Blackout.

Scenes for Small Actors: Chapter 4

SCENE OUT OF CONTEXT

Outside.
A lot of fucking CICADAS.


CICADAS
Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

BILLY CICADA
My throat hurts.

CICADAS
Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz…

HARRY CICADA
You’re not doing it right. Use your timbals!

CICADAS
Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz…

BILLY CICADA
Fuck off, Harry.

CICADAS
Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz…

HARRY CICADA
Hey Billy - your mother’s a whore.

CICADAS
Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz…

BILLY CICADA performs the universal ’suck it’ gesture for the benefit of Harry.

CICADAS
Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz…


TO BE CONTINUED…MAYBE

Scenes for Small Actors: Chapter 3

SCENE OUT OF CONTEXT

A room with something missing.
May.

MINO enters awkwardly.
He wears nothing under his overalls.
The light looks as though it came in by accident.


MINO
Nothing was rising.
Too God-damned cold, anyway.
No point in freezing.

I won’t stand all day
Like a flamingo, my balls
Bobbing like ice caps

For a fucking fish!
Bloody ghost trout? Hell, I am
Just hungry, not proud!

A proud man loiters
In arctic water, but he
Don’t come out a man.

MINO warms himself by an imaginary heater.

I’m not proud. Hell, I’ll
Eat fish out of a can the
Way God intended.

Easier that way.
I only got one pan and
It’s dirty besides.

MINO scratches an itch and moves to a modest table and chair for a quiet lunch.

Sometimes cans sit so
Long on the grocery shelf
The labels peel off

And are lost. Then I
Flirt with the clerk and she gives
’em to me – no charge.

Course, I learned the hard
Way that tuna packed in brown
Gravy is for cats.

But I’m not dumb. The
Average person don’t know a
tuna from a trout.

Mae couldn’t tell a
Turtle from a tree squirrel –

An offstage scream. Enter MAE in barefeet. She scampers to the safety of MINO’s lap.

MAE
Holy fucking shit! Holy shit! God-damn fucking Christ! It’s in the – fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Bathtub! It’s in the bathtub! It looked at me! It looked at me! It fucking looked at me!

MINO is laughing.

MAE
Fuck! Go – go shoot it or something!

MINO is still laughing.

MAE
What is your problem?

MINO
(defensively) What?

MAE
That thing could be rabbit!

MINO
Rabbit?

MAE
Yes, rabbit!

MINO
It’s a rabbit?

MAE
No, it could be rabbit!

MINO
Then what is it?

MAE
I don’t care what it is. It could have rabbis!

MINO
Rabbis?

MAE
Rabbis!

MINO
Is it a synagogue?

MAE
You know what I’m fucking talking about. Like bats –

MINO
Bats?

MAE
Yes! Bats!

MINO
There are bats in the bathtub?

MAE
No!

MINO
You lost me.

MAE
(like a little teapot) Like God-damn Old Yeller!

MINO
It’s a –

MAE
NO! It’s not a dog!

MINO feigns Eureka.

MINO
Rabies?

MAE
Rabies?

MINO
Rabies.

MAE
What. Ev. Er. It. Looked. At. Me.

She looks him in the eyes.

Like. This.

MINO
Let’s fuck.

MAE storms outside. She comes back in wearing Wellingtons and carrying a shotgun.

Mae –

MAE lets out an aggravated whooping war cry as she charges into the bathroom. A shot is heard. A long silent pause. With the gun in one hand and a dead squirrel in the other, MAE returns.

MAE
There’s a hole in the bathtub.

BLACKOUT.

Scenes for Small Actors: Chapter 2

SCENE OUT OF CONTEXT: Elephant and Intern

A room where something important may happen, but rarely does.
A YOUNG WOMAN enters with trepidation.
An OLD WOMAN wearing a raincoat assaults her.

OLD WOMAN
I’ve met three Popes!

YOUNG WOMAN
(after some thought) Oh?

OLD WOMAN
And five Presidents! Three Popes and five Presidents!

YOUNG WOMAN
(stumbling) Uh, er, oh?

OLD WOMAN
Carter the Farter, Ronald Reagoonie, George Bullshit, Billy Blowjob and George W. Booger – and that’s just the Americans!

The Young Woman maintains a militaristic equilibrium while considering the circumstances.
The Old Woman loses interest in her own histrionics and hobbles to a Lifeguard’s chair in the corner. The chair has that "lived-in office cubicle" chic that is only achieved by someone who has long ago relinquished their belief that "this is only temporary".
The Old Woman climbs to her perch and settles in.

YOUNG WOMAN
My mother always told me that patience is a virtue.

OLD WOMAN
Is your mother a Commie?

YOUNG WOMAN
No. She’s a lawyer.

OLD WOMAN
Patience is no Mother Teresa Girl Scouting virtue!

YOUNG WOMAN
Three Popes?

OLD WOMAN
Not when you’re as old as me!

YOUNG WOMAN
What is that you have on?

OLD WOMAN
When you’re as old as me, patience is just a bad investment, like car insurance –

It is clear that this is not a dialogue, but rather two people speaking in the same room.

YOUNG WOMAN
Do old women wear tiny slickers?

OLD WOMAN
Patience doesn’t get you any closer to the cradle than it gets you to the grave –

YOUNG WOMAN
Is this right?

OLD WOMAN
I didn’t get this old to sit around with my thumb in my rear –

YOUNG WOMAN
This must be the wrong room.

OLD WOMAN
When you’re this old, the only virtuous thing to wait for is the movement of your bowels–

YOUNG WOMAN
Maybe I have the wrong day.

OLD WOMAN
But there’s no honor in waiting for someone else to wipe my ass! Not when you’re as old as I am –

YOUNG WOMAN
Why is she so old?

OLD WOMAN
Why, I’m so old…

YOUNG WOMAN
Why is she so old?

OLD WOMAN
Why, I’m so old…

YOUNG WOMAN
Why are you so old?!

OLD WOMAN
Why, I’m so –

She stops as if her tongue disappeared.
The Young Woman stares at the Old Woman.
The Old Woman stares ahead with blank mystification.


YOUNG WOMAN
Are you finished?

The Old Woman looks at the Young Woman as if she had four-hundred eyes.

YOUNG WOMAN
Thank you. I am sorry to interrupt you, but I need to know if I’m in the right place. Can you tell me, is this the Office of Secrets?

OLD WOMAN
I’m too old for this.

YOUNG WOMAN
Excuse me, it’s a simple question.

OLD WOMAN
I don’t have to tell you anything!

YOUNG WOMAN
Please, I am not here to interrogate you. Now answer my question.

OLD WOMAN
I am on my lunch break.

YOUNG WOMAN
Now, come on.

OLD WOMAN
Are you licensed? You’re not a doctor, are you? Are you some kind of crook?

YOUNG WOMAN
Please.

OLD WOMAN
Doctors have licenses and diplomas and certificates up on the walls. You got those?

YOUNG WOMAN
I have a diploma.

OLD WOMAN
I want to call my lawyer. Not a peep from this old bird, oh no, my little chicken, not until I have some representation. And a phone call. I get a phone call. There are liberties in this country! And morals! How do I know you’re not a crook out to scan an old woman? What are your credentials? Where is your diploma?

YOUNG WOMAN
Right there.

The Young Woman points into a void.

OLD WOMAN
Where is it from?

YOUNG WOMAN
Martha Washington High School.

OLD WOMAN
Martha Wash – (she is flabbergasted) Martha Washington? High School?

YOUNG WOMAN
Yes. Now, will you help me? I need you to just sit there and listen and blend in with the wallpaper.

OLD WOMAN
I am a bona fide artifact of American history. Who are you? You’re just some door-to-door Patience Peddler. You think you can come in here and usurp hundred of years of tradition with nothing to hold up the walls expect a diploma from Martha Washington High School.

YOUNG WOMAN
I have been to college.

OLD WOMAN
Where? Sarah Lawrence?

YOUNG WOMAN
No.

OLD WOMAN
Margaret Morrison?

YOUNG WOMAN
No.

OLD WOMAN
Mary Baldwin?

YOUNG WOMAN
Who?

OLD WOMAN
Charlotte Butterchurn?

YOUNG WOMAN
What?

OLD WOMAN
Tina Turner?

YOUNG WOMAN
No.

OLD WOMAN
Sister Sappho’s School for Lesbos?

YOUNG WOMAN
Enough!

She talks to someone specific, but no one in particular.

This is all wrong. I thought old people were calm and insightful and wise. Old women don’t say Lesbo. Besides, there were boys at my college. Lots of them. A surplus. Whole hallways, entire buildings just bursting with their early morning erections and their bad breath and their fraternal splendor. There were so many boys they could have called it the Supreme Court!

She is pretty worked up.
The Old Woman slowly starts to laugh, which only irritates the Young Woman.

YOUNG WOMAN
Now you’re just going to laugh at me? Look at you! You’re like a raisin in a raincoat! Why couldn’t you have been an old man?! Old men wear cardigans and nice hats. Old men are wise and tender. Sure some of them are perves, but they’re wise and tender perves.

There is a crescendo in the Old Woman’s laughter.

Old women are either mean or they are crazy. Clearly you are crazy.

The Old Woman stops laughing.

OLD WOMAN
You might be crazy too if you’d met three Popes.

YOUNG WOMAN
Well, I’m not religious, nor am I a psychologist. Now, listen to me…

OLD WOMAN
No, you listen to me!

YOUNG WOMAN
Is this a trick?

OLD WOMAN
Is this not a trick?

YOUNG WOMAN
Stop that.

OLD WOMAN
Make me.

YOUNG WOMAN
What’s wrong with you?

OLD WOMAN
I’m old!

YOUNG WOMAN
I know! Who are you?!

OLD WOMAN
I’m the Elephant! Who are you?!

YOUNG WOMAN
I’m the intern!

Blackout

Scenes for Small Actors: Chapter 1

SCENE OUT OF CONTEXT: Three Of Hearts

A place.
A bench faces the back of the stage.
The YOUNG WOMAN stands downstage, looking forward.
The changing light of several televisions flash on her sad face.
The YOUNG MAN enters and sits on the bench.
Suddenly, the lights stop.


YOUNG MAN
You’ll ruin your eyes.

YOUNG WOMAN
What color are yours?

YOUNG MAN
Eyes?

YOUNG WOMAN
Eyes.

YOUNG MAN
Blue. Green when I cry.

(Pause)

Yours?

YOUNG WOMAN
Green.

(Pause)

What makes you cry?

YOUNG MAN
Elton John. Papercuts. Goya. The Chinese.

(Pause)

I used to cry every time I took a bath. My brother told me that spiders lived in the drain and raised their spider families in the neighborhoods of the pipes.

(Pause)

I was horrified that I would drown the spider and all of her babies when I drained the tub, so I stayed in the bath until the water was cold. I would sit on top of the drain crying and shivering and refusing to leave until my mother made me.

YOUNG WOMAN
Did you repent?

YOUNG MAN
Every Sunday.

YOUNG WOMAN
May God help you to know your sins and trust in his mercy.

YOUNG MAN
In the Name of the Father…

YOUNG WOMAN
…and the Soup Can

YOUNG MAN
…and of the Low Interest Rate Loans

YOUNG WOMAN
Amen.

YOUNG MAN
Amen.

YOUNG WOMAN
And art thou riddeth of thy wickedness?

YOUNG MAN
I developeth an aversion to indoor plumbing.

(Pause)

After a while my mother got tired of me bathing with a garden hose, so she told me that the spiders would be washed to the sea where they would turn into octopuses.

(Pause)

Did you know that an octopus has three hearts?

(Pause)

I dream that spiders are much happier in the sea.

An abbreviated pause.
The YOUNG MAN looks at the Young Woman.
She is thinking about spiders.
She looks to her right.
She stands up and steps downstage.
She is waiting for something.

YOUNG MAN
What makes you cry?

YOUNG WOMAN
Genocide. Rilke. Forgetting things.

(Pause)

Not being an octopus.


The YOUNG WOMAN makes a little frame by putting her hands together.
She holds the little frame up to the sky.
She looks through it.
The YOUNG MAN notices what she is doing.
He smiles.

YOUNG MAN
What are you looking for?

She brings her hands down.
She looks at the Young Man.

YOUNG MAN
You’ll ruin your eyes.

YOUNG WOMAN
I miss you.

The lights go out.