SAM The harp, man. The big-ass mother-fuckin’-you-gotta-roll-it-down-the-street-on-it’s-own-wheels harp.
SHAYNA’S MANAGER I didn’t know that.
SAM You ever think of having a harp night here? On a weekend or something. Maybe entertain the folks.
SHAYNA’S MANAGER That’s a great idea.
SAM So whattaya say?
SHAYNA’S MANAGER Unfortunately, corporate is real strict about the music we play here. I mean, for example, we can only play corporate-endorsed CDs. Like this one: Norah Jones Sings Songs About Coffee.
SAM Well, maybe Shayna could play some coffee songs on the harp. I mean, you gotta hear her. She shreds at the Radisson brunch out by the airport.
SHAYNA’S MANAGER Well, I’ll run it by corporate and see what they say....
SAM [Watching her.] Coral is far more red than her lips are red.
SHAYNA’S MANAGER Hmmm?
SAM There’s a lot of steam from those machines. I think it’s chapping her lips.
SHAYNA’S MANAGER I hadn’t heard of that.
SAM You should look into that. And the harp thing.
[SAM crosses to SHAYNA and then walks her over to a table as the lights change. SAM and SHAYNA have pasta in front of them. The image on the television screen changes to an image of female hair. Again, the hair is moving and lively. But all we see is hair. The television screen is across from him. SAM raises his glass to her.]
Mmmm. You are such a great cook. This pasta is delicious. These mushrooms. How?
[Beat.]
You make great espresso drinks. You play awesome harp. And this fungi. Ridiculous.
[SAM stops eating for a moment. There is a hair in his pasta.]
What? It’s nothing. Just a hair. No. It happens. What do I care if I have one of your hairs in my pasta. Like I’ve never had one of your hairs in my mouth before.
[SAM examines the hair.]
If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.
[SAM stares at the hair.]
Actually, I’m full. I don’t want a new bowl. Fine, if you’d feel better. But it really doesn’t matter to me. I’ll just have some more wine...lotsa wine.
[SAM crosses with SHAYNA to the bed as the lights change. The image on the screen changes to an image of a female breast. SAM sits on the corner of a bed. SHAYNA is next to the bed.]
I just want you to be satisfied. That’s my whole thing. If you got off, then I’m okay with that. I have been under a great deal of stress at work lately. One doesn’t think of being a meteorologist as stressful, but it is. It’s a lot of blame. And this particular storm is very confusing to me. I actually called it a “zone of uncertainty” on the air today. I mean, what the hell does that mean? It means: I don’t know. It means: I don’t have a pithy phrase for it like “Winter Wallop” or “Winter Whimper” or some fucking thing. I come home from the meteorological center and I drink myself into oblivion. And all night long my weather radio is waking me up with advisories and warnings—and I’m haunted by them because I couldn’t see them coming. Your body is still very exciting to me. I love your body.
[Beat as SAM looks SHAYNA over.]
I mean, granted, if snow be white, then your breasts are dun. Dun. No, not “finished” dun. Dun. Dunnish. It’s a color. A brownish gray color. Bad? Why would that be bad? White is sickly. White breasts are like so sixteenth century.
[SAM walks with SHAYNA as the lights change. Winter. An image of SHAYNA’s breath is on the television screen. We see the lips from the earlier scene. We see her breath turn into steam as she breathes on a frigid winter day. SAM and SHAYNA are “walking” together. He pushes the television along next to him. Snow falls throughout the scene.]
It’s a “Winter Wallop.” Oh, it’s a “wallop” all right. I said “whimper” and it’s a “wallop.” I shoulda just stuck with “zone of uncertainty” and let people look out their goddamn windows. Shit. We’re going to be late to Dave’s wedding. Oh my God, you’re freezing. You’re dressed for a “whimper.” I let you down. Again. It’s you I think of when I’m forecasting and I let you down. Here...Let me hold you.
[SAM turns his back to the audience and reaches for her, but does not touch her. He steps back for a moment.]
In some perfumes is there more delight than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.
[Beat.]
Have you started smoking again? No? Lotsa coffee at the store? Interesting. Well, we better get you inside. You’re freezing. Here. Put my scarf around your mouth. It will keep you warm.
[The lights change. Again the image is of lips. The steaming breath is gone. For the first time SHAYNA’s voice is heard. The voice comes through the television speakers. SAM is staring at the weather map.]
SHAYNA I do charitable works. I’m on the board of the synagogue. And yet...I want you to think I’m attractive. That’s important to me. I have my problems with you. You’re exhausting. You’re no good with money. You drink way too much. You’re vain.
SAM I love to hear her speak—yet I well know that music hath a far more pleasing sound.
SHAYNA Are you listening to me?
SAM Of course.
SHAYNA What did I just say?
SAM You do charitable works.
SHAYNA After that?
SAM Something about Carly Simon.
SHAYNA Carly Simon?
SAM “You’re So Vain.”
SHAYNA I said, you’re so vain.
SAM That’s what I said.
SHAYNA Please hurry up and get dressed.
SAM I don’t understand why we have to devote a whole weekend to this wedding.
SHAYNA Because Hannah is my good friend. And I am playing harp for her as she walks down the aisle.
SAM I don’t like that Dave, I really don’t.
SHAYNA Well, he doesn’t like you.
SAM He’s blaming me for ruining his wedding weekend. The outta town guests are snowed out of town. I don’t make the weather. I just overreact, interrupt prime-time television, and misreport it.
SHAYNA I can’t believe what you did last night at the prenuptial dinner. When she asked if we want to sit with them...
SAM She scares me.
SHAYNA You had better be on your best behavior tonight. After all, that’s going to be us in a few months.
SAM I give that wedding six months. Don’t give a gift.
SHAYNA I wonder what people say about us.
[Beat.]
Will you dance with me?
SAM Slow dances.
SHAYNA Slow dances are what I like.
[The lights change. At a wedding. On the video screen we see images of female legs. The legs are seen dancing on a wooden dance floor at a wedding. An unseen Jewish wedding band plays the “Hora.” We hear the voice from the television, but we see only the legs dancing on the wooden dance floor on the television set.]
Dance with me.
SAM Not the “Hora.”
SHAYNA I’m going up.
SAM Go.
SHAYNA You’re dancing the “Hora” at our wedding.
SAM Too Jewish.
SHAYNA You’re Jewish.
SAM Shhh. It’s the best-kept secret in the meteorological community.
[The song ends. Beat.]
SHAYNA You see, I spend the whole song arguing with you and it’s over. If this is a slow one, you are dancing.
SAM I said, I would.
[A wedding band cover version of Elvis’s “Can’t Help Falling in Love” is heard.]
SHAYNA Well?
SAM Sure.
[SAM begins to dance SHAYNA around the stage. He and the television twirl and move to the music. As he does, the images on the screen begin to change rapidly among those that we have previously seen during the play. The music reaches a crescendo, as the images cycle through quicker and quicker. A beat.]
And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare as any she belied with false compare.
[The lights blackout. In the dark, we see the tel
evision images for a few more beats. The television blacks out.]
• • •
A Song for Me, or Getting the Oscar
John Bolen
A Song for Me, or Getting the Oscar by John Bolen. Copyright © 2012 by John Bolen. All rights reserved. Reprinted by permission of the author.
CAUTION/ADVICE: Professionals and amateurs are hereby warned that performance of A Song for Me, or Getting the Oscar is subject to a royalty. It is fully protected under the copyright laws of the United States of America, and of all countries covered by the International Copyright Union (including the Dominion of Canada and the rest of the British Commonwealth), and of all countries covered by the Pan-American Copyright Convention and the Universal Copyright Convention, the Berne Convention, and of all countries with which the United States has reciprocal copyright relations. All rights, including professional and amateur stage performing rights, motion picture, recitation, lecturing, public reading, radio broadcasting, television, video or sound recording, all other forms of mechanical or electronic reproduction, such as CD-ROM, DVD-ROM, information storage and retrieval systems, and photocopying, and the rights of translation into foreign languages, are strictly reserved. Particular emphasis is placed upon the matter of readings, permission for which must be secured from the author’s agent in writing.
Inquiries concerning rights should be addressed to John Bolen at [email protected].
John Bolen
John Bolen is a novelist/playwright/actor living in Southern California. He has been published by Indigo Rising, Scars Publications, The Write Place at the Write Time, OC180news, Eunoia Review, and YouthPLAYS. Bolen is the producing artistic director of the New Voices Playwrights Theatre and Workshop. His plays have been produced throughout the U.S. His play for a young audience, Aurelia’s Magic (under its original title Dancing on a Grave), was produced by the Vanguard Theatre and Garden Grove Playhouse. Readers Theater Television produced Dancing on a Grave; a radio play adaptation was produced by Shoestring Radio Theatre and was broadcast on 111 other stations across the United States through the National Public Radio system. Bolen has just completed a novel adapted from the story of Aurelia’s Magic. As an actor, Bolen has worked extensively in theaters throughout Southern California, although he is probably best remembered for his roles in the cult films Mega Shark vs. Giant Octopus and The Call of Cthulhu. He has appeared in numerous feature films and TV shows. As a voice actor, Bolen has recorded forty audiobooks.
• • • Production History • • •
The play was first produced August 21–September 5, 2010, as part of a production of one-acts titled EIGHTudes at the Empire Theatre in Santa Ana, California. Produced by the New Voices Playwrights Theatre, it was directed by Paul Millet and starred John T. Cogan and Gwendolyn Edwards.
Characters
JAKE, male, late 20s to mid-30s, a singer/songwriter
EMMY, female, late 20s to mid-30s, a singer
Setting
The den of a small house in Venice, California.
• • •
[It is late night. EMMY is in her robe, playing a sweet, haunting melody at the piano. JAKE enters, dressed in his robe, and listens off to one side before he interrupts.]
JAKE You disappeared.
EMMY I had to come up for air.
JAKE That was very intense.
EMMY It was nice.
JAKE I checked in on Sam. He slept through it all. I was afraid I was making too much noise.
EMMY When you’re four, you can sleep through anything.
JAKE That’s true. You remember that song?
EMMY Of course, I remember the song. How many women have a song written for them by the immortal Jake Legend? I remember, it was the first time we got together, and you played it for me and swept me off my feet. I felt like that again tonight. It’s been a while, and it’s nice to feel that way again. Thanks, Jake.
JAKE For what?
EMMY For going with me to marriage counseling.
JAKE I’m not going with you. We go together, Emmy.
EMMY I really think Madeleine has helped us a lot. Getting us to be honest with one another and really listening to each other, it’s made a lot of difference. Every time you went out on tour, I was going nuts with jealousy, but I feel like that is all in the past. Do you feel the same?
JAKE Yeah, I do.
EMMY I think we’ve reached the point where we don’t need to go to counseling anymore. What do you think?
JAKE We just have to be honest. And listen too. Yes, I think we are to that point.
EMMY Being really honest with one another is something we really hadn’t been doing for a long time.
JAKE That is so true.
EMMY And I think we’re really at that point where we can be open and truthful and not jump to anger but listen to each other.
JAKE Yeah, well...
EMMY Don’t you agree?
JAKE Yes, well...
EMMY I love you, Jake.
JAKE Yeah, well...uh...this is hard, but...but I should be honest... Well, I guess I should tell you.
EMMY Tell me what?
JAKE If we are going to be open and honest with one another, I should be truthful, even about stuff in the past, right?
EMMY I think that is what Madeleine wants us to do.
JAKE Then I guess I should come right out and tell you.
EMMY Just say it, Jake. Tell me what?
JAKE I didn’t really write that song for you.
EMMY [Hurt.] My song? You didn’t write my song for me?
JAKE Emmy, you need to understand. It was the first time we were together, and I really, really wanted to seduce you in the worst way. And I’m sitting down at the piano and playing the song, and you asked me what it was...so I lied. I said I had written it for you, and I thought it might help me get you in bed, and it did.
EMMY My song is not my song.
JAKE It is your song now. But if we are going to be honest with one another, I thought I should tell you the truth.
EMMY [Hurt and starting to anger.] But that was my song. How could you not have told me? All of this time, and you never bothered to tell me?
JAKE I know it was wrong. I’m sorry. But it’s best that I’m finally honest now, isn’t it? Isn’t that what Madeleine wants us to do?
EMMY [Hurt and really angry.] Yes, you’re right. You’re right. But that was my song, Jake. It was special, really special to have.
JAKE Look at it this way. I seduced you and we got together and now we’ve been married five years. We have a beautiful four-year-old son. Something great came from all of it.
EMMY You’re right. I guess I should be honest myself and tell you.
JAKE Tell me what?
EMMY About Oscar.
JAKE What about Oscar?
EMMY I should be honest and tell you about him?
JAKE What do you mean him?
EMMY Oscar was my lover before I met you.
JAKE [Shocked.] You’re telling me that the pet name you use for my cock is the name of the guy you were screwing before you met me?
EMMY Well, it all happened rather innocently.
JAKE [Getting angry.] What could be innocent about calling my pecker by the name of your previous lover?
EMMY Now don’t get angry.
JAKE [Exasperated.] Don’t get angry?
EMMY Don’t you remember, we were pretty drunk when we got together that first time, and we were making love and when I first saw your erection I accidentally blurted out, “Oh my, Oscar, look at you!” You asked me what I was saying, and I just quickly covered by saying I was referring to your penis as Oscar. I think I mumbled something like it was a little golden statuette. Well, after that, it was you that kept referring to it as Oscar, saying things like “Oscar wants attention.” And “Oscar’s feeling lonely tonight.” And “Emmy’s going to get the Oscar tonight.” I couldn’t stop you, you just kept on going on about Oscar this and Oscar that.
JAKE [Re
ally angry.] And every time I was saying the name of your lover before me.
EMMY Yes.
JAKE That is like so wrong in so many ways.
EMMY It just happened, Jake. But look at it this way. We spent that night together and every night after. And we’ve been married for five years and have a beautiful son together. It really worked out for the best, didn’t it?
JAKE Yeah, you’re right. I mean, really, what’s in a name. A rose by any other name would smell as sweet.
EMMY Well, it doesn’t really smell that sweet.
JAKE You know what I’m saying.
[Pause.]
Jessica was her name.
EMMY Whose name?
JAKE The girl I wrote the song for.
EMMY You not only didn’t write the song for me, but you wrote it for another girlfriend?
JAKE She wasn’t a girlfriend.
EMMY You wrote a song for a girl that wasn’t even a girlfriend?
JAKE She was just this groupie who would ride on the bus with us when we were on tour before I knew you, and she would go from one guy to the next, giving us head.
EMMY You wrote the song for a whore.
JAKE She wasn’t a whore. We never paid her. She just wanted to blow any guy that had the slightest chance of becoming a famous rock and roller.
EMMY Oh, great. The song I thought you wrote for me wasn’t written for a whore, but a giant slut instead. That is so much better. I’m supposed to trust you whenever you are on tour and you’re dragging along the world’s greatest slut.
JAKE That was back then, Emmy. It’s not like that now.
EMMY You don’t have any sluts riding around with you now?
JAKE Well, there are groupies, but I don’t have anything to do with them.
EMMY Like I’m supposed to believe that.
JAKE Yes, you’re supposed to believe that. But what about you? I’m supposed to believe you’re living the life of a nun while I’m gone. I’m sure there are guys lined up for the chance to be with the great Emmy B. Sweet. You think I don’t read the tabloids?
EMMY You know the tabloids are full of shit.
JAKE Do I?
EMMY You know damn well they are.
JAKE Well, maybe sometimes they hit upon some truth.
The Best American Short Plays 2010-2011 Page 12
