Short Play 10 – Pentimento Machine

Leonardo, from Futurama

Leonardo, from Futurama

I think pentimentos are mentioned in The Da Vinci Code. I know they’re mentioned in Futurama’s parody of The Da Vinci Code, and they’re used with far superior poetry and purpose in Christopher Moore’s Sacre Bleu.

This play’s a bit phallocentric and choppy, which I guess isn’t surprising, seeing as I’m a dude. However, it’s also a bit Romantic and Expressionist, which are newish animals for me.

Pentimento Machine

            Lights up on a stylized, 1930s Russian tinker shop, straight out of a Brecht play. There are numerous tools about, that might be used by an engineer, metallurgist, or smithy, as well as a stove and a printing press that looks suspiciously like a steampunk-printer. Clichéd old Russian music is playing, something domestic, labor-oriented, and relatively low-key.

            After a moment, we hear noise coming from beneath the stove. DOMOVOI, an old janitor, climbs out from underneath the stove, bearing a broom. Covered in dust, soot, and filth, he brushes himself briefly before sweeping the area. He then approaches the printer. He lifts the guard and pulls a sheaf of paper from the printer. He examines it briefly, and his eyes widen, at which point he crumples the sheaf and shoves it into a pocket.

            Just as he is doing so, STOPONIN enters. An aging repairman, she is dressed similarly to DOMOVOI, combining the romanticism of old Russia with the sexless equality of the Soviet Union.

STOPONIN

Good morning. You are Domovoi, yes?

DOMOVOI

I am. Miss Stoponin?

STOPONIN

The same. I understand there is an error with your printing press.

DOMOVOI

Yes, Miss. Ma’am. She is printing rarely, if ever. Only this morning she was printing without command, and nothing anyone here would order printed.

STOPONIN

(she is moving slowly about, gathering tools from the area) Oh? What was she printing?

DOMOVOI

It is, not important.

STOPONIN

Anything worth saying is important.

DOMOVOI

Ah, I must have said something not worth saying.

STOPONIN

Ah. I recommend you avoid that in future.

DOMOVOI

Mm.

            DOMOVOI returns to sweeping, moving slowly away from STOPONIN, who has begun to open and examine the printing press.

STOPONIN

How long has she been recalcitrant?

DOMOVOI

Sorry?

STOPONIN

Difficult.

DOMOVOI

Ah. This is the third day. We are waiting quite impatiently.

STOPONIN

Print repairman is a rare profession. I am traveling here all the way from the southern suburbs.

DOMOVOI

From Moscow?

STOPONIN

Just so.

DOMOVOI

Ah.

STOPONIN

Yes. Ah. (pause) What is she printing?

DOMOVOI

What? We are preparing an instruction manual for our electric slaughterhouse.

STOPONIN

Electric?

DOMOVOI

Yes. Ah, well, mostly coal, but it generates electricity. It has an automatic knocker, a garrote wire, even a clockwork Judas Cow.

STOPONIN

(still working) Judas Cow. What is this?

DOMOVOI

Ah. Well. Cows, you know, they are reluctant to move where they are told, but they will very often follow a leader. So, we train a cow to lead the others into the slaughter house. A Judas Cow. The Judas Cow is first in, and he side-steps, which is not easy to do without training, and the other cows come in and are knocked on the head. Then they cut their throats. The rest of the cows just keep coming.

STOPONIN

(stops working. Looks at DOMOVOI) Sounds awful.

DOMOVOI

I’m sure it is.

STOPONIN

And now you have this clockwork Judas Cow? So every single cow is slaughtered?

DOMOVOI

Yes.

STOPONIN

Ah.

DOMOVOI

Well. They are not my slaughterhouses.

STOPONIN

No.

DOMOVOI

I did not even build them.

STOPONIN

Of course not.

DOMOVOI

I did not even write the manual. I am just cleaning.

STOPONIN

And printing.

DOMOVOI

And you are repairing the printer.

STOPONIN

Ah.

DOMOVOI

Ah.

            DOMOVOI returns to sweeping. STOPONIN watches him.

STOPONIN

You do not answer my question. I was asking, what is she printing now? You say she is printing by accident. What is she printing?

DOMOVOI

(stops working) Oh. I cannot. It is unprofessional.

STOPONIN

(growing more coy) Is? It is still around? (pause) When I arrive, you were putting something in your pocket. (pause) Is this the print in question?

DOMOVOI

Please, Miss Stoponin, do your job. And I will do mine.

STOPONIN

I must diagnose the error, Mister Domovoi. (she moves toward him) Show me this print.

DOMOVOI

I cannot.

STOPONIN

(She grows much closer) Do not sell yourself short. You can do anything you put your mind to.

DOMOVOI

I should not.

STOPONIN

Ohhh… What is “should?”

            STOPONIN grabs at DOMOVOI’S pocket, and he tries to move away. They are fighting and fidgeting like children. It is decidedly unprofessional.

DOMOVOI

I won’t! I won’t!

STOPONIN

(pulls away, holding up the crumpled paper) Ah hah!

            DOMOVOI gives chase, but quickly gives up. STOPONIN un-crumples the paper and examines it. She grins victoriously, but her smile soon evaporates, and her eyes widen.

STOPONIN

This is… decidedly unprofessional.

DOMOVOI

Yes.

STOPONIN

But… very well drawn. (pause) Someone had to have drawn this.

DOMOVOI

Yes.

STOPONIN

This woman seems very… engaged.

DOMOVOI

Yes.

STOPONIN

And the man is quite… generous.

DOMOVOI

One would hope.

STOPONIN

He… (her eyes, impossibly, grow wider. After a moment, she tears her gaze from the paper to DOMOVOI) You… You drew this!

DOMOVOI

What? No! I cannot draw a thing not even a stick man.

STOPONIN

This! This man! This man is you!

DOMOVOI

Well.

STOPONIN

Well. Much younger you.

DOMOVOI

Yes.

STOPONIN

You were very… generous.

DOMOVOI

(grins) Yes.

STOPONIN

And this woman?

DOMOVOI

Rusalka. My wife.

STOPONIN

She looks very… alive.

DOMOVOI

She was. Always. She drowned in the lake. She was skating on her old socks, when the ice gave way.

STOPONIN

I am sorry.

            Silence. STOPONIN crumples up the paper and returns it to DOMOVOI. DOMOVOI un-crumples it and looks at the picture again.

DOMOVOI

Thank you. I look at this, at something I will never have again, yet it still makes me happy. And more than a little… nostalgic.

STOPONIN

Ah. So, what magical pixie is drawing this picture? (pause) If you did not draw this, then someone who knows you and knew your wife must have. Is it some malicious polevoi or gremlin, crept into your printing press, huh? Perhaps the mischievous water vila, so fond of sport and wild abandon, are living in your printer now, huh?

            STOPONIN thunks the printing press with a tool, and instantly lights and thunder erupt all over. DOMOVOI and STOPONIN huddle together in fear as the entire stage shakes apart. Suddenly, the printing press bursts open like an egg, and RUSALKA, a beautiful fairy queen, rises up out of it. In time, DOMOVOI and STOPONIN look up.

DOMOVOI

Rusalka! I… Rusalka, is that you?

            RUSALKA sings a few beautiful notes, devoid of word or meaning. She raises a scepter over her head, and beautiful, magical creatures dance in from the corners. The sky is gone, replaced by stars, and everything is new. Gorgeous, operatic music plays throughout. The creatures dance and play with each other, all with beautiful rhythms but no clear structure. RUSALKA watches with approval, but only occasionally joins in.

STOPONIN

(points to one of the fairy creatures) Leshy! Oh my Leshy!

            The creature called LESHY takes STOPONIN and dances with her. STOPONIN grows stronger and younger in spirit as they play, other fairies weaving in and out as they go. STOPONIN’S experience comes to a climax, and she brings LESHY over to DOMOVOI, who has remained steadfastly still the whole time.

DOMOVOI

Leshy?

STOPONIN

Yes. She and I went to school together. She was so strong, like a bright beam of Sunlight even in the darkest winter. I had… I had never told her how I felt about her.

DOMOVOI

(offers a hand) It is a pleasure to meet you, Leshy.

            LESHY backs away, singing lovely notes, and joins in the dancing again.

STOPONIN

But – is Leshy dead? I had heard gossip about her and her family only a week ago. Could she have drowned, or… we are not so old… is she dead?

            RUSALKA, LESHY, and several others sing some more. RUSALKA invites STOPONIN back in, and guides her into the dancing and playing with the fairy creatures. The fun grows wilder and more abandoned, as DOMOVOI slowly moves closer to the fairy queen. She has been watching the fun, but as DOMOVOI grows close, she smiles at him beatifically. At length, she extends her hand a little. DOMOVOI extends his hand, not into hers but up to her cheek, which he can scarcely reach. When they finally touch, there is an explosive cheer all about, though no one seems to be watching or paying them any mind. Instantly, DOMOVOI falls into her embrace, his head by her lap, in a scene obviously paralleling Titania and Bottom. RUSALKA caresses him, and he sleeps the sleep of the angels.

            A great bell sounds.

            The fairy creatures begin to calm down, and all gravitate toward the edges of the stage. DOMOVOI awakes and looks around, then sits up. He stares at STOPONIN, whose clothes are now in tatters and who looks, despite her age, very much in company with the beautiful and wild creatures.

DOMOVOI

But… we have work to do.

STOPONIN

For who?

DOMOVOI

I don’t know.

STOPONIN

I think we’re going, Domovoi. Let’s go.

DOMOVOI

But this… this isn’t Rusalka. Not my wife.

STOPONIN

Maybe. This probably isn’t Leshy. I don’t know. All I know is I feel very happy.

DOMOVOI

But is that all there is?

STOPONIN

Why not?

DOMOVOI

I don’t… It seems wrong.

            RUSALKA is staring at him, warmly, but sadly.

STOPONIN

Are you sure, Domovoi?

DOMOVOI

No.

            The fairy creatures start to draw away and vanish. STOPONIN is moving back with them, but does not quite exit. Finally, RUSALKA begins to float away.

DOMOVOI

Wait. I don’t… Rusalka… Wait! I…

            RUSALKA disappears. STOPONIN waves goodbye and offers a few notes of song, then vanishes as well. DOMOVOI is left standing, alone. He looks around at the destruction. At length, he picks up his broom and starts sweeping. After a moment, he looks at the crumpled picture again. He stares.

            Lights fade out.

Short Plays, Theater Stuff

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