Short Play 14 – Medusa Magdalene

Here’s a major downer for the holiday season. This is essentially a staged version of a very late chapter in a novel I’ll probably never finish. Rape figures fairly strongly into its plot (being based on the multifarious Medusa myths), so it may no longer be something audiences can get anything out of.

This play is very very Pinter.

Medusa Magdalene

            Lights up on a collapsed church. All images have fallen, making no denomination clear. There are candles about. The place is generally dim. There is a lantern sitting prominently near the middle of the wreckage, but it is conspicuously unlit.

            MAGGIE enters. She is dressed in filth and castoffs. She has been unsexed and disaged: her face is covered with scars and infected welts. She is hunched and walks in a slow half-stumble, as though perpetually performing the opening moves of a dance, missing its partner. She is holding a pair of books in one hand.

            Somewhere, an empty can is knocked over. MAGGIE hears this, and instantly hobbles to hide her books under a destroyed altar. She fetches up the unlit lantern and sits in some refuse that vaguely resembles a chair.

            SARAH enters, very cautiously. She is dressed well, conservatively. She is almost thirty, but has the air of a child trying to act older than she is. She holds a single book in both hands, resting in front of her crotch, like a boy in middle school. The left hand secures the book, while the right covers most of the left hand.

            SARAH looks about, still very cautious. MAGGIE is not hiding herself, but is still obscured by the dimness and her own resemblance to the garbage around her. After a moment SARAH spies her, but is still unsure if she is actually a person. SARAH carefully creeps closer, continuing to shield herself with her book. Until…

            MAGGIE speaks. She has an educated, nonspecific manner of speech. On rare and elevated occasion, the vestiges of a Southern twang may creep into a vowel or two. Her voice is deep, or scratched, or harsh, or feral. It is unclear if this is the genuine result of an injury or age, or merely an affectation.

MAGGIE

Sarah Hammond.

SARAH

(Gasps, then) Hello.

SARAH speaks with a deeply regional Georgian accent, only partially modified by internet globalization. She stops progressing toward MAGGIE, keeping her book at crotch level, occasionally bending at the waist to lean a bit forward, should certain speech require.

            Silence. Then

MAGGIE

Hello. Sarah Hammond.

SARAH

Uhh… Hi. (silence) I—

MAGGIE

Hello.

SARAH

Heh… Hi.

MAGGIE

Hello.

SARAH

I don’t… Are you all— Uh… Maggie?

MAGGIE

Yes. Maggie. Sarah Hammond.

SARAH

Are you… (Silence. SARAH is expecting MAGGIE to interrupt, and MAGGIE is refusing to do so. In time…) Hi.

MAGGIE

Hello. Sarah. Hammond.

SARAH

What… Should I go?

MAGGIE

Why?

SARAH

You don’t, I mean I, you don’t— Um, we um, we just um, we just keep saying hello over and over.

MAGGIE

That’s the polite response. Isn’t it. “Hello.”

SARAH

Yes ma’am—

MAGGIE

And there we are, stuck in an infinite loop. I could descant on that, but. Not much point.

SARAH

No, ma’am.

MAGGIE

“Ma’am?”

SARAH

Well…

MAGGIE

That’s a polite response. Too.

Silence.

SARAH

About, umm… about Jake?

MAGGIE

What about. Jake. Sarah Hammond.

SARAH

Well uhh, about Jake? Umm. It’s Sarah Gardner. Now. I am. Sarah, um, Gardner. Now.

A long, long Silence. SARAH looks around briefly, never moving. She does not look behind her, but gives serious thought to backing away and leaving. But she does not move. Silence. SARAH considers speaking, but is too… something. Maggie makes a small motion, and SARAH tenses as though awaiting a strike. But nothing happens.

            Silence.

MAGGIE

Congratulations.

SARAH

(melting instantly) Thank you so much, Maggie—

MAGGIE

What about Jake.

SARAH

(stopping short) Umm, he. He’s not. We had a baby—

MAGGIE

Congratulations.

SARAH

Th—umm, thank you. Um. Jake—

MAGGIE

What. About Jake.

SARAH

He. … He’s really—

MAGGIE

Don’t!

Pause.

SARAH

Okay. Umm—

MAGGIE

Ummmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm…

SARAH

Sorry, um – uh, sorry. Uh—

MAGGIE

What?

SARAH

Jake. Is… sick.

MAGGIE

Oh no.

SARAH

It uh – It – It started, right before the baby was born—

MAGGIE

Boy? Or girl.

SARAH

(long pause) Boy.

Long pause.

MAGGIE

Of course.

Pause.

SARAH

His name’s Timothy. (pause) You pro’lly don’t care.

MAGGIE

Are you concerned? If I care? Cause if you are—

SARAH

No no, um, sorry, uh, I – Sorry.

MAGGIE

STOP! SAYING! You’re sorry.

SARAH

S—Okay.

MAGGIE

Let me make one thing clear.

SARAH

Yes.

MAGGIE

I do not care who is sorry. Or why. Or how. I do not care.

SARAH

Okay.

MAGGIE

Since you seem so concerned. If I care.

SARAH

Okay.

MAGGIE

O. K.

Silence.

SARAH

Jake is sick. And, we’re just not sure what’s wrong.

MAGGIE

(affecting a fake hillbilly accent) Ol’ Doc Humphrey’s been stumped, huh?

SARAH

Well.

MAGGIE

Oh. Ah. Well. I’m sure he’d be stumped, all the same.

SARAH

Well.

MAGGIE

That’s a funny word. Well. Has a lot of different meanings.

SARAH

(provides a polite hiccup of laughter) Yeah.

MAGGIE

I’d descant on that. But. Pearls before swine.

SARAH

Is that from the Bible?

MAGGIE

Jake. Is sick.

SARAH

Um – S—Yeah. So, we was, we thought it was just the flu, but it’s been goin’ for a while. I thought he might be exhausted, cause he’s been doin’ a lot of double shifts up in the city, but of course he wouldn’t listen, bein’ a man, bein’ Jake.

MAGGIE

Bein’ Jake.

SARAH

Well, uh, s’, yeah. Mmm… He just. He’s not sleepin’. He’s sweatin’ all the time. He’s callin’ in sick to work, and he ain’t never done that. Never. He’s not gettin’ any rest, he just looks like—

Pause.

MAGGIE

What. Does he look like?

SARAH

He looks sick.

MAGGIE

Does he look like death?

Pause.

SARAH

Yeah.

MAGGIE

So. Jake. Is sick. That’s the problem? Jake is sick. And you don’t know what’s wrong.

SARAH

Yeah.

MAGGIE

So. Fucking. What.

SARAH

I was, I was talkin’ to my brother Arny. And he said about, when, the time he got sick in high school. He was a couple years ahead of us?

Pause.

MAGGIE

Uh huh?

SARAH

He. Well he. Arny was talkin’ about the time he got sick in high school, and – He thought maybe – He thought you might maybe know what was wrong with Jake.

MAGGIE

Mm. Because of my big city education. That it? (pause) Hm? (pause) That it?

SARAH

No.

MAGGIE

Then why? Would I know? Why Jake’s sick. Hm?

SARAH

Because.

MAGGIE

Are you a fucking eight-year-old! “Because!” Because of what! Sarah Hammond! What!?

SARAH

We thought you might know, cause of… Cause of your past.

MAGGIE

My past. My past?

SARAH

We thought, maybe… when you and Jake—

MAGGIE

Me and Jake. Did nothing. (Silence) Do you understand? Do you get it? Huh?

SARAH

But—

MAGGIE

No! Me and Jake did nothing. Jake did. Jake. Did. Some thing.

SARAH

Okay.

MAGGIE

To me.

SARAH

Okay!

MAGGIE

It’s NOT! Okay!!

SARAH

S – O – What!? (finally flings the book away) What do you want me to say!?

MAGGIE

(finally stands) I don’t know, Sarah! You’re the ones who called me the know-it-all! I never said that. You did! You tell me! What do you want me to say? What magical words can I speak that will suddenly make everything okay? What are those words!?

SARAH

I don’t know!

MAGGIE

Then neither do I! You fucking self-righteous, willfully stupid monsters glare at me, spit at me, judge me! And now you come to me!? That fucking coward can’t even come here himself! He sends you instead?

SARAH

He didn’t send me! He can’t get out of bed, Maggie!

MAGGIE

Good! I’m glad he can’t get out of bed. I’m glad he’s suffering. I’m glad he’s dying!

SARAH

Dying? How do you know—

MAGGIE

Because maybe there is justice in the world, Sarah. That’s how I know. I know because that’s what feels good! (instantly, her manner alters. Silence) There it is. The magic words. It’s true, because I want it to be true. That’s how. The wisdom of the deliberately stupid.

Silence.

SARAH

Maggie. (pause) Maggie! Jake.

MAGGIE

Jake is dead, Sarah. Jake is dead, and it makes me soooo happy.

SARAH

What do I do?

MAGGIE

Tell yourself he’s gonna be fine. Jake’s gonna be fine, and you’re soooo happy.

SARAH

Maggie.

MAGGIE

Or he’s gone to a better place. He’s gone to a better place, and you’re soooo happy.

SARAH

Maggie!

MAGGIE sits again.

MAGGIE

Sorry, Sarah Hammond, but you don’t really exist. You don’t exist, and it makes me soooo happy.

Silence. SARAH turns and exits. MAGGIE starts humming “Auld Lang Syne.”

            Lights fade out.

Short Plays, Theater Stuff

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