Contents
PRODUCTION HISTORY
CHARACTERS AND SETTING
INTRODUCTION
ACT ONE
ACT TWO
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
COPYRIGHT
Dead White Writer on the Floor premiered at Magnus Theatre, Thunder Bay, Ontario, on January 28, 2010, with the following cast and crew:
BILLY JACK / MIKE
Chris Cound
INJUN JOE / FRED
Gordon Patrick White
KILLS MANY ENEMIES / BILL
Gilbert J. Anderson
OLD LODGE SKINS / JOHN
Ira Johnson
POCAHONTAS / SALLY
Reneltta Arluk
TONTO / JIM
Simon Moccasin
Director
Mario Crudo
Set and lighting designer
Ted Roberts
Costume coordinator
Mervi Agombar
Stage manager
Gillian Jones
Characters
BILLY JACK: Half-breed hero, with a strong sense of justice. Early thirties.
INJUN JOE: Drunk half-breed. He should look beaten down by life.
KILLS MANY ENEMIES: Mighty warrior of the plains.
OLD LODGE SKINS: Wise old Elder.
POCAHONTAS: Beautiful teenage girl.
TONTO: Faithful Indian companion. Mid-thirties.
Setting
The office or study of a writer, in a house. Lots of books and bookshelves. A window, a desk with a computer, and a closet.
Time
There’s no time like the present.
Introduction
Dead White Writer on the Floor was perhaps the most difficult play for me to write. It certainly took the longest. I must say that it was also one of the most fun projects I have ever had the pleasure to work on. And work on it I did.
It’s hard to say when I actually put fingers to keyboard, but I do remember the first workshop taking place during my tenure as artistic director of Native Earth Performing Arts, back in the mid-1990s. After that, it went through a few more workshops (including one at the Bluewater Theatre Festival in Kincardine, Ontario) as I tried to nail down the story, characters, and themes, but it was a tough battle. It seemed the overall picture eluded me. I tend to be what could be called a kitchen-sink dramatist, but I was having trouble finding the kitchen sink in this one.
Especially in the second act. That one was a bugger. I wrestled with it repeatedly. I think I rewrote it completely, turning it inside and out … maybe five or six times, which is unusual for me. I always prided myself on never starting to write a play until I knew exactly what I wanted to say and how I was going to say it. The first act pretty much stayed consistent, other than the elimination of the opening monologues. Yes, the play originally started with each character coming out and establishing their character with a two- to three-minute monologue, brilliantly and hilariously written. Unfortunately, as it was pointed out to me, with six characters delivering a monologue each, Act One would run twelve to eighteen minutes right off the top. And I repeated it in the second act with the new versions of the characters. During yet another workshop, Richard Rose, Tarragon Theatre’s artistic director, pointed out that if I kept all the monologues, the play would be a tad long and a tad static. And most of the information in the monologues could be seeded into the text anyway. So out went my beautiful monologues. A very painful cut, let me assure you. Late at night sometimes, when I’m drunk, I take them out and reread them. And weep.
Why this play took so long to finish, I am not positive. Maybe I wasn’t sure exactly what I wanted to say. I mean, I don’t usually write postmodern theatre (I am not even sure what it is), let alone one influenced by Pirandello’s Six Characters in Search of an Author. I just wanted to write something fun and different. And these six characters in the first act are such icons in the world of native literature (as written by white authors), who wouldn’t want to put them all together in one room and see what happens? Being a writer, I could do this. But what they ended up morphing into, in the second act, was the problem. At one point I had Tonto running a gay dude ranch (yikes!) and Pocahontas becoming a feminist lawyer specializing in sexual harassment cases (double yikes!) It took a quiet moment of reflection, of trying to find the essences and irony of what this play was about, before I came up with who the characters became. And to quote a book I once read, it was good.
The only major change, other than the metamorphosis of the second act, was the creation of Kills Many Enemies. He was not one of the original characters until, in the mid-2000s, Toronto’s Centre for Indigenous Theatre wanted to mount a student production of the play and requested to add more characters, if possible. It was then that the obvious occurred to me. How could I have overlooked such a potentially great character as the bloodthirsty warrior? You may have noticed that he is the only character not given a name from an actual novel or movie. I think I wanted him to represent a range of similar characters, unlike the others, who represent very specific identities. But, if pressed, I guess you could call him Wind in His Hair from the film Dances with Wolves.
I also got to play with the way worlds and boundaries crossed over and imprinted themselves on the characters. I would give each character a bit of information or understanding that he or she would not normally have. I mean … would Injun Joe really know what a “personal pronoun” is? Maybe it was a bit of the dead white writer coming through in his character. Who knows? I don’t.
Normally it takes me two weeks to write a first draft, and maybe two or three (occasionally four) more drafts afterwards to make everything work properly. Not this time. This play would not be told before its time. So all in all, this play had a gestation of about thirteen or fourteen years altogether, with one more kick at the can every couple of years, before the illustrious Magnus Theatre saw fit to pluck it from the wastelands of unread, unproduced scripts and give it life. Mario Crudo saw the potential, and the rest, as they say, is history. With the fabulous cast he put together, it was one of the most amazing productions I have ever been a part of. It was one of those rare instances of something being funny but actually having a lot to say and comment on.
Since then as I have tried to have it produced elsewhere, I’ve noticed a disturbing trend regarding this play. Although Mario loved the play and loved the title, not everyone does. In fact, I‘ve received kind words of concern from people who think the title Dead White Writer on the Floor is perhaps a little too aggressive and not very consumer friendly. One artistic director told me she thinks it would alienate her audience and was reluctant to even read it. Years ago when my play Only Drunks and Children Tell the Truth toured British Columbia, several performances were cancelled because local people objected to the title. What an odd world. I find titles like this very provocative and interesting. I guess that’s why I create them.
Oh well, that’s theatre, I suppose. In the end the only thing that matters is the product, which you hold in your hands.
Enjoy the play, and be wary of locked rooms and dead white writers.
Drew Hayden Taylor
Curve Lake First Nation, 2010
Act One
Silence, then the sound of a computer powering up. Then fingers on a computer keyboard. They start slowly, then speed up. Somebody is typing. The lights come up and we are in a large study, the office of a writer, with a large desk centre stage and bookshelves stuffed with books. A man sits at the desk, typing on a computer. His back is to the audience so they are unable to see his face.
Lights suddenly flicker, and the stage turns dark. In the dark void, there is a lone anguished cry, then something falling and
being dragged. Silence. The lights come up to reveal the entire stage. The lighting and atmosphere are dark and mysterious, ethereal and surreal.
Standing around the desk are TONTO, BILLY JACK, KILLS MANY ENEMIES, INJUN JOE, POCAHONTAS, and OLD LODGE SKINS. Surprised to find themselves here, they look around at their strange surroundings.
TONTO
This not desert!
KILLS MANY ENEMIES
Where’s my horse? My teepee? Who are you?
POCAHONTAS
What a strange place.
INJUN JOE
Oh fuck!
OLD LODGE SKINS
This is a bad omen.
BILLY JACK
I don’t know this place. Or any of you.
A drunk INJUN JOE runs to the door and tries to open it, but it’s locked.
INJUN JOE
Let me out of here. I gotta get out of here. God help me, let me out!
POCAHONTAS
I’m scared. Do … do any of you know where John … my John is?
BILLY JACK
John?!
POCAHONTAS
John Smith. He’s sort of my boyfriend. He’d know what to do.
BILLY JACK
John Smith … that is … that was … you look … Pocahontas …
POCAHONTAS
Yes, that is what my father calls me. Do I know you?!
BILLY JACK
But that’s impossible …
INJUN JOE pulls out his knife and tries to pry the door open, with no luck. TONTO sits down comfortably in a chair, waiting. He grabs a magazine and idly thumbs through it.
INJUN JOE
(at the door) You son of a bitch …
OLD LODGE SKINS
Why are you so angry, my son?
INJUN JOE
I ain’t angry and I ain’t your son. This ain’t right. Not by a long shot.
He hurts his hand trying to pry open the door.
INJUN JOE
Goddamn …!
OLD LODGE SKINS
Relax, my young friend. It is as it should be. As I have seen it.
KILLS MANY ENEMIES
Old man, respected Elder, is this … this place … your lodge?
OLD LODGE SKINS
No. I have never been here before.
KILLS MANY ENEMIES
Then why are you so calm?
OLD LODGE SKINS
Being agitated and stabbing a door will not change things. It is obvious where we are.
KILLS MANY ENEMIES
Where are we then, Grandfather?
OLD LODGE SKINS
I am old. It was my time. I have passed on to the next world. So have all of you, I would guess. I say we rest and let our spirits become one with the Four Directions.
He starts to chant.
INJUN JOE
The hell I have. Look at this. (shows blood on hand) You don’t bleed when you’re a ghost. At least I don’t think you’re supposed to. The last thing I remember is, I was trapped in a cave but I was still alive.
OLD LODGE SKINS
Hmmm, I see your point. And I must pee. That is not right either.
POCAHONTAS takes INJUN JOE’s hand and looks about for something to bandage it with.
POCAHONTAS
Oh, you have a boo boo.
INJUN JOE
(interested in the pretty girl) Yes. Yes, I have a boo boo. A big boo boo.
KILLS MANY ENEMIES
(looking at scratch) That is nothing. The last thing I remember, I was taking the scalp of a white man with a long knife. My hands were sticky and wet with his blood. I had taken many scalps that day. And I have suffered many wounds over the years. You do not have a … big boo boo.
INJUN JOE
Back off, buddy. I say it is.
BILLY JACK
You … you mentioned a cave.
INJUN JOE
And who the fuck are you?
BILLY JACK
The cave … tell me about it.
INJUN JOE
If you gotta know, I was chasing … I mean playing with this brat … I mean young boy in a cave, and somehow, that … the little rascal got away from me.
BILLY JACK
What was his name?
INJUN JOE
His name? I don’t rightly know. Sawyer, I think.
BILLY JACK
Tom Sawyer. You’re Injun Joe. At least I think you’re supposed to be.
INJUN JOE
(suspicious) Do you know me, ’cause I sure don’t know you.
BILLY JACK
You might not believe …
KILLS MANY ENEMIES finds the air conditioner in the window. At first he is surprised by the cool air.
KILLS MANY ENEMIES
Oh that’s nice. I like that!
BILLY JACK
You okay?
KILLS MANY ENEMIES
Cool air. This may be bad medicine but it sure feels good. Very good. It was hot and dusty where I was, and buckskin just does not breathe. I want one of these. How can I get one?
OLD LODGE SKINS
Maybe it is a spirit from the north.
TONTO
That not mustang!
Then they all notice TONTO in the corner, drumming his fingers, looking bored.
TONTO
What? In this book thing, there image of something steel and glass. It move very fast, and called Mustang. Look like no mustang horse Tonto ever see. Crazy people.
BILLY JACK
It’s called a car.
TONTO
A car … hey, look, another one. A Cherokee!
KILLS MANY ENEMIES
You are awfully calm. Too calm. Is all this your magic? Are you behind all of this? Must I gut you like a fat groundhog?
TONTO
Me? No? Me just waiting for Kemosabe to save me.
INJUN JOE
Who the hell is this Kemosabe?
TONTO
Him partner. Whenever Tonto get in trouble, he come save. Always. (pause) Any time now. (pause) Any time.
INJUN JOE spots another door behind TONTO and goes racing for it.
INJUN JOE
Another door!? Let me out!
He pulls it open to reveal a closet, and a dead body falls out. It is dressed exactly like the writer in the opening. Only the legs are visible to the audience.
INJUN JOE
Oh fuck.
KILLS MANY ENEMIES
Hoka!
POCAHONTAS
Is he … is he?
INJUN JOE
Fuck.
TONTO
Him dead.
POCAHONTAS
How?
Out of habit, OLD LODGE SKINS lifts his hand in greeting.
OLD LODGE SKINS
How.
POCAHONTAS
No. I mean how did that poor man die?
INJUN JOE
Fuck.
BILLY JACK
Will you stop saying that?
INJUN JOE
Don’t tell me what to say or do, boy, or you’ll be plenty sorry.
TONTO
(in the corner, getting impatient) Any time, Kemosabe. Any time.
POCAHONTAS
Does anybody know him?
INJUN JOE
Whoever he was or died from, I didn’t do it.
BILLY JACK kneels and examines the body.
BILLY JACK
Well, the first thing is, he’s a white man.
POCAHONTAS
John?!
TONTO
Kemosabe?!
Both POCAHONTAS and TONTO go rushing to the body.
TONTO
Kemosabe and me were just in middle of stopping bank robbery when this … (examines body too) Whew, no. Me not screwed.
POCAHONTAS
It’s not John either. I was so frightened.
KILLS MANY ENEMIES
A white man’s death does not concern me, unless I have slit his throat myself and watched his blood gush out. I turn my back on him.
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INJUN JOE
I’m noticing a theme with him.
TONTO
What we do now?
OLD LODGE SKINS
Pray for him on his journey to the spirit world.
OLD LODGE SKINS starts to chant once more.
INJUN JOE
Oh shut up. Somebody shut him up.
KILLS MANY ENEMIES
Little man, have you no respect for your Elders? Must I exchange your eyeballs for your testicles?
INJUN JOE
I’m hungover and he’s giving me a headache. God, seems like I’ve had a hangover forever.
KILLS MANY ENEMIES
Yes, you smell of their firewater. You smell of many things. Perhaps you are in league with this man. Perhaps I should fillet you like a trout …
INJUN JOE
Back off, feather boy.
BILLY JACK
Oh, great warrior, let him live. He is not worth the effort.
KILLS MANY ENEMIES
Very well then. But beware, little man, your scalp may yet hang from my lodgepole.
POCAHONTAS
All this talk of death, I’m frightened.
The old man bends down with a noticeable grunt, using a staff. He examines the body.
OLD LODGE SKINS
This man died at the hands of another.
INJUN JOE
Weren’t me that did it.
POCAHONTAS
He was killed?! Who … who could have done this horrible thing?
INJUN JOE
Not me.
BILLY JACK
What makes you think he was murdered, Grandfather? Maybe he had a heart attack or a stroke.
OLD LODGE SKINS
I saw it in a vision, as is my way. It was unclear, but I saw him, and he was lying there like this. There is much here I do not understand, but I do know this man is dead because of one of us. The Creator has told me.
KILLS MANY ENEMIES
I care nothing for these white people. But it was not my lance that took his life. Perhaps another warrior did.
TONTO
You think one of us did this?
INJUN JOE
Not me.
BILLY JACK
It seems likely. And the door is locked.
INJUN JOE
I told ya.
TONTO
Me not know anything about where you all come from, but where me lives, one dead white man, six Indians, in locked room—not good beginning.
INJUN JOE
It was one of you! I bet everything I know that one of you people did it!
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