January 10 Play: REFRIGERATOR

# 10: REFRIGERATOR - by Ed Valentine
© January 10, 2010 * ed@edvalentine.com

IN THE DARKNESS: Low lights up on a refrigerator. In front of it, a small square of kitchen linoleum. MOTHER enters in curlers and housecoat and goes towards the 'fridge. When her hand is on the refrigerator handle, a little GIRL appears just outside of the circle of light.


GIRL (In a singsong:)
There’s something evil in my fridge,
There’s something evil in my fridge,
There’s something evil in my fridge,
And I know what it is.

MOTHER
How do you know?

GIRL
I can smell it.

MOTHER
And you’re sure?

GIRL
Don’t go in there.

MOTHER
But darling, I’m hungry. I’m so so hungry.

GIRL (Shrugs:)
Do what you will, then.

(MOTHER hesitates. Agonizes. Decides.)

MOTHER
You’re being ridiculous. I’m just going in for a bite, dear, can't you see I’m starving?

(She opens the door of the ‘fridge. Blinding light bursts forth and a tentacle thrusts out and grabs her. Drags her in, screaming. The door shuts. Silence.)

GIRL
He’s hungry too. Goodnight, Mother.

(She turns and walks away into the darkness. The refrigerator door opens. The thing inside spits out Mother’s curlers onto the linoleum floor. The door shuts. Hold. Lights fade.)

END OF PLAY.

January 9 Play: AT THE EDGE OF THE BLACKDARK SEA

# 9: AT THE EDGE OF THE BLACKDARK SEA - by Ed Valentine
© January 9, 2010 * ed@edvalentine.com

LIGHTS UP: A seascape. A rock. A ruined rowboat. A CAPTAIN in a black hat and a black oilcoat waits, looking out to sea, holding a wicked-looking harpoon. TWO WOMEN in white dresses of the 1890’s stand apart, watching the Captain. They carry clambaskets.

OLDER WOMAN: That’s him.

YOUNGER WOMAN: That’s who?

OLDER: Captain. Captain Black.

YOUNGER: Do they call him so because he’s dressed in black?

OLDER: Don’t be a fool. They call him so because that’s his name.

YOUNGER: Oh.

OLDER: And even if that wasn’t his name, we from the town would call him Cap’n Black.

YOUNGER: Why?

OLDER: Don’t be a fool, I say! Because he’s dressed in black. Black is his heart, black is his mood. Black is his story and black are his eyes when fixed upon the blackdark sea.

YOUNGER: Why stares he off so, so fixed and fearsome?

OLDER: You aren’t from around these parts, are you?

YOUNGER: I’d like to know anyway.

OLDER: No one knows! ‘Tis a great mystery around this island.

YOUNGER: He out here every day?

OLDER: He ain’t. What a silly question from a silly birdie. He ain’t out here every day, but only when the water is peculiar glassy and calm. An obsidian mirror.

(CAPTAIN BLACK mutters something unintelligible.)

YOUNGER: He’s saying something.

OLDER: Most likely.

YOUNGER: What says he?

OLDER: Who knows? Wouldn’t be polite to listen, now, would it? We here tend to let ‘im be. God makes all kinds, you know. God makes all kinds, and best to let ‘em be.

(Still, OLDER steers YOUNGER closer to the Captain. She tries to listen to his muttering, perhaps with an ear trumpet.)

YOUNGER: And he never moves?

OLDER: Never, not when he’s in this state. Then he goes back to his shanty on the shore, covered in oil paper and fishguts to keep out the cold. And he stands in the doorway, and glowers at the world as he shuts the door. Well, don’t stare, child! Best to let ‘im be. He’s cracked in the head, he is. Give him the peace of the sea.

CAPTAIN BLACK: OH!

YOUNGER: He stirs!

OLDER: Indeed.

YOUNGER: He starts!

OLDER: How strange!

(CAPTAIN most agitated. He points out to sea with his harpoon.)

YOUNGER: Captain Black! Captain Black!

CAPTAIN: Can ye see it there? Ye see it, ye lubbers, ye sandloving fools, ye children of the earth? Ye see it? ‘Tis there, there, and there! In the water, thrashing!

(Far off in the water, tentacles rise and unfurl, snatching a seagull out of the air.)

OLDER & YOUNGER: OH!

CAPTAIN: I come, ye Thing! I come, Leviathan! I come, wet Lucifer, many-legged sea-Satan! I come to ye! I come, I come!

(He throws off his hat and oilcoat and starts into the sea. YOUNGER screams and rushes to him, trying to hold him back. OLDER pulls YOUNGER off the CAPTAIN, who shakes her loose. And goes into the water.)

YOUNGER: Why did you let him go? He’ll die out there!

OLDER: Yes he will.

(A thrashing in the water. A gout of blood, then silence. The Captain is gone, and the two WOMEN alone on the beach. OLDER brushes sand off her dress. YOUNGER is destroyed, looking out to sea as the water turns red.)

YOUNGER: He’s lost, lost at sea.

OLDER: Serves him right.

YOUNGER: How can ye be so heartless?

OLDER: Say what you will, serves ‘im well.

YOUNGER: How can ye be so cold?

OLDER: ‘Tis not cold, girl, not heartless. He met the end he wanted. Do ye see? He met death as a man, not a watcher. And so live and so die the men who dance with Leviathan. Now come girl. There’s chowder to be made. Come, girl.

(She shoulders her huge heavy basket of clams. YOUNGER picks up the Captain’s black hat and oilcoat. Regards them. OLDER watches, concerned for the first time:)

OLDER: Did ye hear me, Girl?

(YOUNGER puts on the Captain’s coat and hat. Watches in the same place and same manner as he did at the beginning of the play. Very concerned.)

OLDER: Girl?

(Tableaux.)

END OF PLAY.

January 8 Play: WEED IN THE LILLIES

# 8: WEED IN THE LILIES - by Ed Valentine
© January 8, 2010 * ed@edvalentine.com

LIGHTS UP: A drawing room with a fire burning in a fireplace. A large group of RELATIVES of all ages, clustered around the corpse of a very old man laid out on a bier, surrounded by lilies. The relatives all wear formal black Victorian mourning clothing. One WOMAN, in a veil, leans against the mantel, drinking sherry.)

A RELATIVE: Poor dear. Finally dead.

WOMAN: I wouldn’t count on it.

A RELATIVE: Why not?

WOMAN: We’ve been wrong before.

A RELATIVE: He looks dead.

WOMAN: He was never very lifelike.

A RELATIVE: But he stinks so!

WOMAN: That, too, is no proof. In life he was often odiferous.

A RELATIVE: He’s not breathing.

WOMAN: Oh ho! He’d have you fooled, then. I understand, of course, I’ve been fooled before. There were plenty of nights I looked at him, listened, sniffed. Pressed his chest. Prayed.

A RELATIVE: And God always answered your prayers for his health!

WOMAN: (Snorts:) I wasn’t praying for his health. So many nights. So many nights. He fooled me, fooled me, always fooled me. I shan’t be fooled again.
(She takes a poker from the fireplace.)
Who’s going to do it?

A RELATIVE: It seems brutal.

WOMAN: And yet.

A RELATIVE: Unnecessary.

WOMAN: And yet.

RELATIVES, VARIOUSLY:
What if he never dies?
What if he never dies and we never get his
Money
His paintings
His fields
His gardens
His cows
His bonds
His corgis
His ships
His seeds
His golden sarcophagi
His crocks full of antique gold?

WOMAN: See? That’s just it. He’ll never die. Never. Die. And if he never dies, we can never be free. Do you see? Do you see?
(Brandishes the poker. Goes to stab the corpse. Can’t do it.)
YOU do it.
(Hands the poker to a RELATIVE… who hands it off to another… and another… and another. The last in line throws the poker to the corner.)

A RELATIVE: No! There’s a better way. Call in a doctor!

ALL RELATIVES, EXCEPT THE WOMAN: Yes, yes! Call in a doctor! Call in a doctor!

(ONE RELATIVE opens the door. The DOCTOR enters, and stethoscopes the corpse as all the relatives press in. Listens. Listens. Finally, shakes his head as he takes out of his black bag a black priestly stole. Puts the stole around his neck.)

WOMAN: At last! At last!

DOCTOR: (Intoning.) By the power vested in me by the sanctity of my profession, I hereby pronounce this gentleman –

(The CORPSE leaps up.)

CORPSE: GOTCHA! Fooled ye again!
(Dances on the bier. Flings lilies at the relatives.)
Fooled YE. And fooled YE. And fooled YE and YE and YE.
(To the WOMAN:)
And I even fooled YE. How about that?

WOMAN: Well, I suppose you can all go now. I’ll see you all tomorrow when we’ll do this all again. Thank you for coming.

(She opens the door and ushers the RELATIVES and the DOCTOR out. Shuts the door. The former CORPSE draws close to her.)

CORPSE: Ye’ll never get me in the ground. Never! Isn’t that right,
Mehitabel?

WOMAN: That’s right, Daddy. Daddy’s always right.

(He gives the WOMAN a lily. She turns the gaslamps off. The fire turns the room red and casts strange shadows. Fire noise up.)

END OF PLAY.

January 7 Play: SEVENTEEN ANTONIOS

# 7: SEVENTEEN ANTONIOS - by Ed Valentine
© January 7, 2010 * ed@edvalentine.com

LIGHTS UP: Dawn. A Spanish plaza. ANTONIO playing guitar. Above, a balcony. OLD HIERONYMO looks down at Antonio.



OLD HIERONYMO: Ugh! YOU again.
(Calls off.)
Estella!

ESTELLA (off): Yes, Papa?

OLD HIERONYMO: It’s him again.

ESTELLA (off:) Ugh!

(OLD HIERONYMO goes inside. ESTELLA enters on the balcony. Sees Antonio. Folds her arms.)

ESTELLA: I told you to stop this, Antonio.

ANTONIO: I thought you’d be flattered by my persistence.

ESTELLA: I’m not.

ANTONIO: Come on. Just a little bit.

ESTELLA: I find it disturbing. Just when I’m enjoying the smell of the morning, you cram my house full of roses. Just when I’m enjoying the quiet, you cram my ears full of sound. And you play guitar like a donkey.

ANTONIO: Well, you haven’t heard anything yet!
(ANTONIO gives a flourish on the guitar. SIXTEEN OTHER ANTONIOS, all identically dressed, all enter carrying guitars. Together, they all play a flourish.)
See?

ESTELLA: Who are they?

ANTONIO: They’re me, of course! I hired the village necromancer. He grew them from a lock of my hair, a scraping of skin from the underside of my heel, and from yeast mold in a test tube. Now doesn’t THAT impress you?

ESTELLA: Not really. You’ve made it worse. If I don’t love one of you, how am I to love seventeen Antonios?

ANTONIO: (Sings as the OTHER ANTONIOS strum.)
Lovely Estella! My morning star!
There’s no need to be lonely-o!
My star-shaped flower,
Come down from your tower.
And you’ll never be without your Antonio!

OTHER ANTONIOS: (echoing) Antonio, Antonio, Antonio!

(They all throw a single rose on the balcony. She is pelted, and covered.)

ESTELLA: Your roses have thorns.

ANTONIO: And my love has petals! So what say you to our proposal?

ESTELLA: There’s only one thing to do. I shall stay inside for the rest of my life, as if in a nunnery. Forever, farewell.

(ESTELLA exits inside. As one body, ALL THE ANTONIOS moan. The sun travels across the sky through the following.)

ALL THE ANTONIOS: NO!
(They all fall on their knees. Sung:)
Estella!
(Identical gesture of despair. Sung:)
Estella!
(Identical gesture of supplication, arm flung wide. Sung:)
ESTELLA!
(Quietly. Sung:)
Estella.

(The sun sets.)

ANTONIO: Don’t worry, intrepid men. Give it time, she’s sure to crack. We’ll come back tomorrow.

(ANTONIO plays one flourish and begins to exit. One by one, then in groups of twos and threes, the OTHER ANTONIOS play a flourish and follow him off.)

(As the Final Antonio is walking away, ESTELLA comes out on the balcony in the moonlight. Picks up one rose and inhales its odor. Watches the Antonios go. After the last Antonio disappears, she throws the one rose down to the plaza. And exits.)

END OF PLAY.

January 6 Play: ROUGH BEAST

# 6: ROUGH BEAST - by Ed Valentine
(A SHORT, DARK PLAY FOR 3 KINGS DAY)
© January 6, 2010 * ed@edvalentine.com

LIGHTS UP: A scene like a children’s Nativity pageant. The exterior of a rough wooden barn under a starry sky, with one crystalline star bigger and brighter than the others.

3 KINGS arrive from the East, bearing gifts. Perhaps “We Three Kings” plays softly underneath, or perhaps this whole thing is sung to an original score.

KING BALTHASAR (BALTHASAR)
This must be the place!

KING 2 (MELCHIOR)
This must be the place!

KING 3 (KASPAR)
This must be the place the stars have foretold.

BALTHASAR
I have brought Frankincense.

MELCHIOR
I, Myrrh.

KASPAR
I, Gold.

ALL 3
Open up! Open up! Open up!

(The barn opens up like a Christmas card to reveal the manger scene. THE VIRGIN and JOSEPH are around the manger, surrounded by lambs and cows. Perhaps they are played by children. There is something swaddled in the manger.)

ALL 3
We greet thee! We greet thee! We greet thee!

BALTHASAR
I, Balthasar.

MELCHIOR
I, Melchior.

KASPAR
And Kaspar, I.
We followed the signs we saw in the sky.

BALTHASAR
The sky has begotten a little stranger.

MELCHIOR
And tribute we bring here to lay at thy manger.

(Each kneels as he presents his gift, singing grandly:)

KASPAR
We bring Gold!

BALTHASAR
Frankincense!

MELCHIOR
And Myrrh!

ALL 3
AAH!

VIRGIN
Kind you are, ye Magi three.
Would you see the Lord’s baby?

ALL 3
We would! We would! We would!

VIRGIN
I am the handmaiden of the Lord.
Behold.

(Serenely, she lifts the cloth from the thing in the manger. Music snaps out. An acid green light shines forth from the crib onto the KINGS, casting their shadows onto the back wall.)

(At the sight of the thing in the manger, the KINGS stand, confused and stricken: BALTHASAR cannot look away, MELCHIOR peers at the manger through his fingers, KASPAR gets ill.) (*NOTE: perhaps give the impression that that something has gone terribly wrong in the pageant, and that the actors playing the KINGS are genuinely struck dumb by what they see.)

BALTHASAR
What is this?

(A slow sound: something dripping. Then A RENAISSANCE ANGEL WITH A HEAD OF A DOG appears in the sky.)

DOG FACED ANGEL (spoken:)
Noel.

(JOSEPH turns away, shaking his head. The ANGEL sways back and forth in the sky for a long time.)

END OF PLAY.

January 5 Play: PEELERS (1)

#5: PEELERS (1) - by Ed Valentine
© January 5, 2010 * ed@edvalentine.com

LIGHTS UP: A desert. Hot sun beats down. Two SISTERS in pioneer garb, each at a chair with a metal bucket of by her side. CINDA VIOLET is older, LULABELLE ROSE is younger. Each has a mound of carrots in her lap, and she shucks off their skins with a wicked-looking metal peeler. CINDA wears her bonnet so her face is in shadow. LULABELLE wears her bonnet down around her neck.

BOTH
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10.
(Breath.) (Breath.)
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10.
(Breath.)
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10.
(Breath.) (Breath.)
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10.
(Breath.)

(From offstage, a loud steam whistle. Both sisters shake out their hands.)

CINDA: You’re not fast enough, sister, nowhere near.

LULABELLE: My hands weren’t made for this.

CINDA: Oh, the Queen of Sheba.

LULABELLE: They weren’t and you know it.

CINDA: Oh, the Queen of France.

LULABELLE: They were made for working lace. Nobody could turn the lace like me.

CINDA: And look at you now. All thumbs. Aaaallll thumbs.

LULABELLE: Lacework isn’t peeling.

CINDA: Break’s almost over. Strap on your peeler and get ready. You got no reason to put on airs, you.

(LULABELLE wipes sweat off her face.)

LULABELLE: Someday, Sister.

CINDA: Someday what?

LULABELLE: Someday I’m gonna put this peeler right through your eye. Someday when you least expect it.

CINDA: Well.
(Flicks an imaginary peel from her apron.)
I’d like you see you try.

(Offstage, a second loud whistle. Instantly, they grab up peelers and whip back to their work.)

BOTH
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10.
(Breath.) (Breath.)
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10.
(Breath.)

(Peeling, counting, breaths continue as lights fade.)

END OF PLAY.

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