Monday, November 20, 2006

The Seventh Circle


Where was Celia?

My professor had to turn detective now. Celia vanished. With what the professsor surmised, she could just as well taken our her own apartment, or she could be cleaning the "new friend"'s apartment, standard operating procedure for runaways about to be trapped by a pimp.

So we go one to--can it be?-- ACT VI, SCENE 6, Take 6--Now isn't that just peachy, 666, the part where our professor approaches the edges of hell.


ACT VI

SCENE 6


Interior scene of the professor's studio apartment.

The professor is pacing. Willie Safer is in the studio with him, doing a juggling act with the professor's cutlery again. Willie is exceedingly adept at this-- for a madman.

Professor (Pacing). Where the hell is she, Willie?

Willie (picking the final butterknife out of the air): She has taken our an apartment. Hard to see through this old "crystal ball" You think you were in a triangle. Hah! A triangle always has four corners, no? Maybe five.

THE PROFESSOR HAS STOPPED PACING. HE PICKS UP A NEWSPAPER.

Willie: See they got your poem up on the editorial page.

Professor: Yeah.

Willie: Have you considered, Herr Professor,that you may be using Celia for material?

Professor: Do you think I'm that much of an ogre?

Willie: Not so much an ogre. Maybe one possessed.

The professor sits down on a futon, next to the telephone on a parson's table.

Strangely, the telephone rings.

Professor: Hello? Hello?

BEAT

VOICE ON OTHER END .FEMALE VOICE: Is it you?

Professor: Of course it's me.
Celia?

Celia: Yes, it's Celia.

Professor: So how have you been? Where have you been? What on earth is going on?

Celia. Oh, Lief and I are breaking up.

Professor: So what now?

Celia: I might go to England and live with my uncle.

Professor: (Giving Willia Safer a wide-eyed look. He has realized that "my uncle" is whore argot for black man.
He covers the receiver, says to Willie: Moving from the red to the black):Now I see it Willie.

WILLIE PICKS UP THE SPOONS TO JUGGLE AGAIN.

Professor: Your uncle. What do you mean your uncle? I thought we had an arrangement.
You could come live with me.

CELIA SEEMS TO TURN ICY.

Celia: Being the kind of person I am, I'm going to take out my own apartment. Take our my apartment,so I can do
what I want.

Professor: Which is?

Celia (In an apparent mood swing): David, you published that poem about us and you didn't tell me.
You have libelled me.

Professor: How could I have libelled you?

(WILLIE SAFER IS OVERHEARING THE CONVERSATION IN THE ECHOING APARTMENT).

Celia: After Lief read the poem, the marriage died for certain. Lief is no fool.

Professor: Au contraire, Madame. Hate to say it. Lief is a dipstick.

CELIA SUDDENLY HANGS UP. DIAL TONE.

The professor puts down the phone, runs his fingers through his hair.

Professor (to Willile): What now, Swami, what now?

Willie: When those on drugs say you libelled them, they're being defensive. And "my uncle" is probably a pseudonym for pimp. Afro-Canadian, I'd guess..

Professor: So what now, Willie:

Willie: You want to saver her? You have to pursue her.
You have to pursue her!


CUT TO:

SCENE SEVEN




Interior scene of Lief Horvath's apartment. LIef is on the same C-shaped couch that Celia and the professor had
often made their strange brand of love on. Lief has a woman half-reclining next to him. They are watching pornography on the VCR. The lights are off, and there is only the TV's Bluish hue, rising and falling.

THE TELEPHONE RINGING. LIEF HORVATH PICKS IT UP.

Lief: Hello.

Oh. Daniel. Celia is not here.

She's in Toronto. Shes working. She is working.

(The professor at other end): Working? What do you mean she's working?

Lief. Shes working. Right downtown.

Professor: Do you have her number in the city?

Lief: Oh. Ooh. I had it somewhere. THERE IS A LONG PAUSE WHILE LIEF EXTRICATES HIMSELF FROM THE
CLUTCH OF THE WOMAN, WHO LOOKS LIKE SHE MAY HAVE BEEN STRIPPER.

LIef: (Back on phone) Sorry Daniel.Can't find.
But she's working in the city.
With her friend. Her friend.

THE PROFESSOR HANGS UP

CUT TO:

THE PROFESSOR'S STUDIO.

THE PROFESSOR IS SITTING DOWN, HEAD IN HANDS.

Willie Safer: What's wrong.

Professor: Give me a scoresheet on this bullshit:

Willie: You want a scoresheet?

Professor: Yeah Give me a scoresheet.

Willie Safer (Laughing):

Celia and the new guy: ten, and the professor? Fuck-all.

CURTAIN

.........End scene 7

15 comments:

Josie said...

Omigoodness, the poor professor.

I must say, you have led an interesting life...!!

Josie

Josie said...

Ivan, I just posted on your site, and the little counter thing at the bottom still shows 0. Very strange.

Another storm blowing in here today. Whistler had 30 inches of rain. That's crazy...

Josie

ivan said...

"The professor" has often cited that his family crest should read
"Semper In Excreta". He's into it deep, this time.

ivan said...

Josie,
From my barely computer-literate eye, it looks like your post came in all right.
But I've had complaints about a certain Blogger mushiness when people go to comment here. If you have more trouble posting to this site, tell me and I'll get my son to look into it.
Poor unfortunate British Columbia.
Paradise swamped and another storm on its way. And there will be no fresh tapwater for weeks!
What the hell.
Feel for you.

Josie said...

Ivan, I'm ODing on hot chocolate. The trees and the rain are blowing sideways. Horizontal.

Good thing I don't rust.

Josie

ivan said...

Poor baby!
Nestle's used to make the very best.
At least they said so when I used to watch Howdy Doody (Guess that dates me!).
Yeah, looks like work, TV and hot chocolate.

...I do have this personal philosophy though: As long as there is enough beer and tobacco in the apartment, screw the weather!

Ivan

P.s.:
The Ontario government is pressing us to go totally nuclear for our power.
Is this why we keep having power fluctuations here in Ontario?
Is this why my comment space sort
of jiggles every so often.
Is Mr. Pinhead over there at Queen's Park trying to give us a hint--to support nuclear power?
Hm.

JM said...

Quite right, Herr Doctor; I have over a great deal of time laid in stocks of whisky, stashed in bottles throughout the house, and have other important caches too, in anticipation of Winter, Terror, The Ultimate Cop Clampdown, or some other manner of Apocalypse (which could or could not include an interuption of television service prior to the Super Bowl). If I were Hunter S. Thompson there would also be a vicious pile of ammunition but his breed is quite dead -- so when the time comes, I'll just lock all the doors and wait it out. Salud.

ivan said...

Chimo, Jeff!
So nice that have an honest-to-god
real professional writer aboard again.
I'd like to be able to put things
like that, but I guess you have to be from Prince Edward County Trenton ON area to master such a hands-on style.
I think there are times when you outdo old Hunter S.!
Welcome back.

Ivan

EA Monroe said...

Good evening, Ivan. I just stopped in to say, hi and see how the play is going. 666. How did you arrange that!

Poor Josie and the Weather. I hate to say it, but we had temps in the 70s, sunny skies, and wind. We're still having a drought.

I haven't noticed any mushiness on the comments from this end.

ivan said...

Liz,
Musta been all those years of watching healthy girls dancing barefoot on glass shards in Haiti.
...The guys would sort of back off and fake it, but the girls would just tromp down on those razor-sharp bottle bases--and not a mark on their feet.
And then the attendant "Hieronymous Bosch" band, blowing huge bamboo
flutes--Hoo Hoo-Hoo. The voodoo!

That, or December Quinn, paranormal writer, dropping into these pages recently.

Whatever it was, it kind of came out "Well Well Well. Who dat Callin'"....Four horsemen of the apocalypse and all that.

Actually, I just count lousy and the numbers came up like that in spite of my bad numbering.But spooky, no?

...I came back from Haiti with the neatest dolls! (Actually, the place scared the crap right out of me).
Yeah, de Debbil. He play de best music.

Drought again in Oklahoma?
As a self-respecting MD of the rain forest, I'm gonna look to find my rattles.

Yeah, Josie seemed to have some trouble getting into comment, but I think it was a power fluctuation here in Ontario that did it.

Oh, Josie. I don't follow baseball, but some Vancouver guy just got the Most Valuable Player award from some American ball team.
Lord! Bryan Adams and now this!

Josie said...

Ivan, Don't forget Pamela Anderson from Vancouver Island where I grew up....

Josie

ivan said...

Migod, you guys are swamped with talent.
I just got the MVP's name.
Justin Morneau of the Minnesota Twins. He phoned his father about the choice, and both father and son broke down in tears.

Yeah. Pamela Anderson.
I wouldn't throw her out of bed even if she were gassy. LOL.

Josie said...

Ivan, I just popped in to say hello. I'm working today... no time to post.

(They actually expect me to do some work... hah).

Cheers,
Josie

ivan said...

Hey Josie,
Thanks for taking the time.
You chicks, along with professional crime writer Jeff Mitchell--are propping me up.

Propping me up for the next act of my play, which will come right up unless Blogger screws me up.
Actually, I am procrastinating a bit.
Nasty habit. LOL.

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