Sunday, November 19, 2006
The roadrunner and the coyote
Act VI, Scene Five of my ongoing play, THE FIRE IN BRADFORD.
Act VI Scene Five
Scene: The professor-turned cabdriver is booting his cab all over Nemarket ON, past the women dressing in the long military coats of the period, spinnakers before the cold wind. He is just driving around, muttering to himself,
singing dark songs to himself. His Celia has disappeared, disappeared into a city of three million people shortly after she rejected him.
I followed her to the station. A suitcase in her hand...
BUT IT WAS NOT A SUITCASE. IT WAS A BLUE MUSTANG THAT SHE DROVE.
Professor (Inside his cab, talking to himself): Jesus. I feel like a North American Indian. The college has screwed me. Somebody is screwing my girlfriend. Somebody is fucking my wife. I was forced to sell my abode. Everybody's fucking me!
Professor (Starts to sing a Jack White song):
I'm gonna fight 'em off.
A Seven Nation Army couldn't hold me back
They're gonna rip it off
Taking their time behind my back
And I'm talking to myself at night
Because I can't forget
Back and forth through my mind behind a cigarette
And the message from behind my eyes says leave it alone
Don't want to hear about it
Every single one's got a story to tell
From the Queen of England, to the gates of hell
And if I catch you coming back this way I'm going to serve it to you
I know that's not what you want,but that's what I'll do
And the feeling coming from my bones says find a home.
I'm going to Wichita
Far from this opera forever more
I'm going to work the straw
Making the sweat drip from every pore
And I'm bleeding and I'm bleeding right before my lord.
And the words are gonna bleed from me and I'll sing no more.
And the stains coming from my blood
Tell me go back home.
Professor: Ah, but where is home, poor Injun? I want to go to Wichita too!
THE PROFESSOR PARKS THE CAB. HE OPENS THE GLOVE COMPARTMENT, PULLS OUT A MICKEY BOTTLE AND TAKES A DEEP PULL.. HE NOTICES THAT A POWDER-BLUE MUSTANG SEEMS TO BE
CIRCLING HIM. IT IS CELIA DRIVING THE MUSTANG. SHE HAS HER DRIVER'S SIDE WINDOW DOWN AND SHE IS SMILING AT THE PROFESSOR.
THE PROFESSOR QUICKLY ROLLS DOWN HIS OWN WINDOW.
Professor (Yelling). Celia!
Won't you turn your Mustang round!
BUT CELIA IS GONE IN A SWIRL OF SNOW.
Professor: "Aha, cried he, as he grabbed her wooden leg!"HE DOES NOT GIVE CHASE.
Professor (to himself, while reaching for a clipboard) This is going to take serious work. This is going to take a serious panty remover. This is going to take a poem. The poet never loses...(We hope). HE BEGINS WRITING:
He saw the teardrop on the rose
And again he saw the teardrop on a rose
And he knew he could never melt the teardrop
And he knew this was already the end.
So he kissed the face of the evening wife
As he had kissed it before, in all its varying forms
And again said hello to the precipice of silence
A precipice of silence
For his eighteen months of loving.
The Queen of Swords is crossed over
And all the king's horses and all the king's men
Are trying jo get her together again
To no avail.
Gigolo and Gigolet
This side of the lake of mutilation
Strike a match
And the hotel burns
There is only this path of silence
As we dump our gods
And become like them.
THE PROFFESSOR STARTS THE CAB, BRINGS IT TO A LOW CRAWL, DRIVES TO THE GO-STATION, AND THERE, FOR SURE, IS CELIA'S PARKED MUSTANG. SHE IS NOT INSIDE....WHAT WAS SHE DOING BACK IN TOWN, AND WITH WHOM?
THE PROFESSOR QUICKLY DISEMBARKS FROM HIS CAB AND TACKS THE TWO PAGES OF POEM TO
CELIA'S WINDSHIELD WIPER.
Professor (now back in his cab): Well, if that don't do it, nothin' will!
............end ACT VI Scene V