by Jake Wizner
“I’m going to go take a quick look at what’s going on over there. See if Mimi and Callie are in that class.” And Max, she thought, though she kept this to herself.
“I’m going to start writing,” Trish said.
“I’ll meet you on the stairs.” She walked across the courtyard and leaned against a tree with a view of the proceedings. Mimi was there, and Callie, and Max. They were doing an acting exercise where as they moved, the teacher, balding and with a British accent, would call out new directions and they would have to adjust on the spot.
“Suspicious,” the teacher said, and immediately the students began to move more cautiously, to glance over their shoulders and cast each other furtive looks.
“Tired,” the teacher called. “Nervous.” “Dejected.” “Amused.”
They were good, these student actors, though they tended to exaggerate the traits in similar ways. Max was the best, she noted. His movements and expressions were subtler, but they conveyed so much. And his natural charisma made it hard to look away.
“In love,” the teacher called out.
The students began to swoon and cast dreamy, faraway looks. Max looked up and locked eyes with Olivia. He held his hands to his heart and stared at her, love struck.
She shook her head and rolled her eyes, but she felt herself smiling as she walked back to the stairs and sat down next to Trish.
“Do you know how you’re going to start your play?” Trish asked, looking up.
Olivia opened her notebook. “I had some ideas, but now I’m not sure.” She looked down at the blank page and began to chew on her pen cap.
“Do you think that sheep thing was true?” Trish asked.
Olivia laughed. “I wouldn’t be surprised.”
“Do all boys think about stuff like that?”
Olivia shrugged. “Who knows?” She looked back across the courtyard, trying to spot Max. “I hope not.”
They sat hunched over their notebooks, and Olivia wrote Castration Celebration across the top of her page. What could she do to grab readers right away? It had to be something funny and shocking. A song about castration? Maybe, but that would probably work better later in the play. Maybe she could do something with the whole screwing sheep idea. It would be a great way to introduce her male characters and the conversation could be hilarious. She began to feel creative energy pulse through her, and with rising excitement she brought pen to paper and started to write.
CASTRATION CELEBRATION
Act 1, scene 1
(Curtains open on a small town. A backdrop reveals houses, a school, and a green. A big sign reads Welcome to New Melon. The spotlight shines on Biff, Sluggo, and Dick, three teenage boys sitting on one of the stoops.)
BIFF: All I’m saying is that a sheep wouldn’t be so bad. I mean, if you close your eyes, it would probably just feel soft and woolly.
SLUGGO: Do we have to have this conversation again?
BIFF: I’m serious. If I had to choose one animal—
SLUGGO: Dude, I’ll give you a hundred bucks if you screw a sheep.
BIFF: A hundred bucks? No way.
SLUGGO: How much then?
BIFF: At least a thousand.
SLUGGO: Where am I gonna get a thousand dollars?
BIFF: Fine, forget the money then. I’ll do it if you whip it out in Ms. Morris’s class and jack off on your desk.
SLUGGO: Hold on. You’re saying I have to take out my penis in the middle of math class and masturbate on my desk? While she’s teaching? That’s crazy, man.
BIFF: Dude, I’m talking about screwing a sheep here.
SLUGGO: All right, I’ll tell you what. I’ll jack off in Ms. Morris’s class, but then you’ve got to screw a sheep and a pig.
BIFF: No way. If I have to screw a sheep and a pig, then you’ve got to whip it out, jack off on your desk, and sing “God Bless America” while you’re doing it.
SLUGGO: If I’ve got to sing “God Bless America” while I’m jacking off in class, then you’ve got to screw a sheep, a pig, and Delores Huffenpot.
BIFF (recoiling): Brutal.
SLUGGO: Deal or no deal?
BIFF (reluctantly): I don’t know. You think that’s fair, Dick?
DICK (distracted): Huh?
BIFF: You think it’s fair for me to have to screw a sheep, a pig, and Delores Huffenpot if Sluggo jacks off in class while singing “God Bless America”?
DICK (shaking his head): What the hell’s the matter with you?
BIFF: What? What did I say?
DICK: Forget it.
(Dick gets up and begins to pace, and Sluggo and Biff look at each other, confused.)
SLUGGO: What’s the matter, Dick? You having your period or something? I could run over to the store and get you a box of tampons.
DICK: I’m just so sick of it.
SLUGGO: What?
DICK: This. Everything. (looks earnestly at his two companions) Don’t you ever just want to get away from here?
BIFF: What are you talking about?
DICK: Just get in the car and keep driving.
SLUGGO: Where do you want to go?
DICK: I don’t know. It doesn’t even matter. Just somewhere else.
BIFF: How about Disney World?
SLUGGO: Come on, Dick. We’ll go out tonight, you’ll get a little action, and you’ll feel much better. Trust me.
BIFF: Man, I hope I get me some action, too.
SLUGGO: See there. We’ll find you a girl, and then we’ll find Biff a nice woolly sheep.
BIFF: Actually, Sluggo, I was thinking about your mom. She still charge the same rates?
SLUGGO: That wasn’t my mom. It was my grandma. Couldn’t you tell from the wheelchair and hearing aid?
BIFF (offering a high five): Nice one. So what do you fellas say? You ready to hit the town?
DICK: Not tonight, guys.
SLUGGO: Are you serious? We can’t go cruising without you.
BIFF: Yeah, come on, Dick. If you don’t come, there’s no way I’m getting laid.
DICK: You guys don’t need me to score with chicks.
SLUGGO: It helps.
DICK: Give me a break. You guys have scored on your own before. Biff, remember when you hooked up with Amber Bloom last month? I wasn’t with you then.
BIFF: Yeah, that was awesome.
SLUGGO: You only hooked up with her because she was so drunk she had no idea who you were.
BIFF: I know. Drunk girls rule.
DICK: Look. All you guys need to do is drive around tonight, wait for some really drunk girls to stagger out of a bar, and offer them a ride.
SLUGGO: What about finding Biff a sheep?
BIFF: I told you already. Your mom is woolly enough.
SLUGGO: You really think we’ll score tonight without you?
DICK: Just don’t talk about sheep. Now get out of here and go bag some chicks.
SLUGGO (reluctantly): All right, man. Catch you later, then.
DICK: Later.
(Sluggo and Biff exit, leaving Dick alone on the front stoop.)
(On another stoop we see Jane and Amber. Jane is wearing sweatpants and a sweatshirt and is holding a copy of Shakespeare’s play Much Ado About Nothing. Amber is wearing a short skirt, a tight shirt, and heavy makeup.)
AMBER: Come on, Jane. It will be fun.
JANE (sarcastically): It sounds great. I mean, what could be more exciting than flirting with some skeevy guy at a liquor store so he’ll sell us cheap beer, then getting puking drunk and making out with Biff Berchum?
AMBER: That was one time, okay? And I’ve already admitted it was a severe lapse in judgment. But come on, Jane. There are lots of guys out there. If you’d just dress up a little and put on some makeup, you could have anyone you wanted.
JANE (with fake enthusiasm): And there’s such a great selection to choose from.
AMBER: Listen to you, Miss Picky. You planning to hold out for Brad Pitt?
JANE: I don’t know. Does he like to read?
AMBER: You can’t just stay in every Saturday night. Everyone goes out.
JANE: Exactly. It’s enough that I have to deal with these people during the week.
AMBER: So what are you going to do? Close yourself off in your room and read your Shakespeare for English class? We’re going to be doing the play out loud in class, anyway, so you’re just going to be reading it twice. I mean, look at the title. Much Ado About Nothing. Who wants to waste time reading a book about nothing?
JANE: Remind me again how we’re friends.
AMBER: Seriously, we hardly ever hang out, except in school.
JANE: If I go out with you, you’re just going to end up hooking up with some guy, anyway.
AMBER: That’s not true.
(Jane gives her a look, and Amber smiles sheepishly.)
AMBER: So we can do something else, then, just the two of us. See a movie or something.
JANE: No, you go out. Really. I like staying home. (She holds up her Shakespeare play.) Besides, I’ve got old Willy to keep me company.
AMBER: What you need is a young Willy to keep you company.
JANE: Oh my God, do you ever think about anything other than sex?
AMBER: Not really.
JANE: You know, if you didn’t look so good in a skirt, I might mistake you for a guy.
AMBER: Why? You think only guys are obsessed with sex? That’s like so sexist.
JANE: No it’s not. Do you even know what sexist means?
AMBER: What do you mean? Of course I do.
JANE: So explain to me how I’m being sexist.
AMBER: You’re saying that only guys can be obsessed with sex. That’s like saying that only guys can play football or drive trucks or be president.
JANE: It’s true, isn’t it?
AMBER (laughing): Shut up.
JANE: Well, if we’re going by your definition, then aren’t you being sexist by only dating guys? I mean, what are you saying—that girls aren’t good enough for you?
AMBER: Oh my God, that’s totally different.
JANE: How?
AMBER: It just is. And you’re not gonna suck me into one of your ridiculous debates.
JANE: You started it.
AMBER: Whatever. So, come on. Are you coming out with me tonight?
JANE (holding up her play): I told you. I’ve already got plans.
AMBER: Loser.
JANE: Sexist.
(They both start to laugh.)
AMBER: You sure I can’t convince you?
JANE (standing and bending down to give Amber a hug): Positive. Just try not to do anything that you’ll be too embarrassed to tell me about tomorrow.
(Amber exits, and music begins.)
“There’s Nothing to Do in New Melon”
(Jane)
My name is Jane, and on Saturday night
I usually stay home and read
I tell my friend it’s how I want to spend
My time, and it’s all I need
In my room, every Saturday night
I play a game of make-believe
Yeah, I’m lonely, but I hope it’s only
Till I graduate and get to leave
I dream about the day I get to college
Surrounded by ideas, people seeking knowledge
That’s where I’ll dare to say goodbye to solitaire
Who wants to play with me?
There’s nothing to do in New Melon
It’s always the same old thing
Oh, I wish I could find a beautiful mind
And get out of this old routine
I wish I could find a way to beat the grind
Looking for a brand-new scene …
(Dick)
My name is Dick, and on Saturday night
I usually hang out with my boys
Get in our cars, drive past the bars
Get drunk and make lots of noise
On the town, every Saturday night
I play a game of make-believe
I try to score, and each time I’m more
Convinced it’s not what I need
I don’t like it, but I’ve got my reputation
A whole bunch of groupies who give me validation
My luck, I’m stuck, acting like a dumb fuck
I wish I could just break free
There’s nothing to do in New Melon
It’s always the same old thing
Oh, I wish I could find a beautiful mind
And get out of this old routine
I wish I could find a way to beat the grind
Looking for a brand-new scene …
(Dick and Jane)
There’s nothing to do in New Melon
It’s always the same old thing
Hey out there, I need someone to share
All my hopes and my dreams
(Jane)
I feel as if there’s someone out there waiting
(Dick)
All of a sudden my heart is palpitating
(Dick and Jane)
Somewhere, out there, breathing in the same air
When will you come to me?
Somewhere, out there, breathing in the same air
When will you come to me?
(They both turn and walk slowly inside their respective houses.)
(Curtain)
According to Max’s therapist, Max’s relationship history was not surprising given the fact that his mother had abandoned him as a child. He latched on to girls compulsively, accelerated the process toward intimacy, and walked away from each girlfriend before she had the chance to walk away from him. His therapist was working on this with him, and he had left for the summer determined to break his pattern. What he was not prepared for—because it was a brand-new experience for him—was being flat-out rejected before a relationship had even started. And what made this particular rejection such a hard pill to swallow was his conviction that he and Olivia were perfect for each other.
“Come on,” he urged her, walking back from lunch on the third day. “I know we have afternoons free to work, but it’s too nice out to stay cooped up in your room writing.”
“I just want to get a few more pages knocked out before class tomorrow.”
“So write outside, at least,” he said as they turned off Elm Street and into the Old Campus courtyard. “I’ll sit with you and give you ideas if you get stuck.”
She smiled and shook her head. “No, thanks. You’ll just be a distraction.”
“I won’t, I promise.”
She gave him a skeptical look, and he pretended to tape his mouth shut.
“Yeah, right,” she said, laughing.
They walked across the courtyard toward their dorm without speaking. It was exciting to Olivia how her play was taking shape. Her characters were charting their own paths, and Dick was emerging as a much more sympathetic character than she ever would have imagined. Maybe being around Max really was affecting her. She looked at him, and he pointed toward the stairs and cocked his eyebrows.
“You can talk,” she said.
He exhaled dramatically, like someone coming up for air after being underwater for too long. “Thank you,” he gasped.
“Okay,” Olivia said with a chuckle. “We can try.”
“On the stairs?”
She nodded. “I just have to get my notebook.”
They neared the dorm, and Olivia suddenly turned to Max. “Can I ask you something a little bit weird and twisted?”
“I can hardly wait,” he said.
She looked away from him and stared down at her feet. “Do you ever fantasize about having sex with a sheep?”
“What?” Max said, laughing.
“I told you it was twisted,” she said with a smile.
“Wow,” Max said. He gave a little wave to someone in his acting class, who was passing in the other direction. “I guess I’m more of a goat boy,” he said at last.
Olivia nodded and tried to keep a straight face. “Interesting. Any other u
nusual sexual proclivities?”
“Let me see,” Max said, racking his brain for something clever to say. “There’s midgets, I guess.”
“Midgets?”
“Well, their mouths are a perfect height.”
“Oh, of course,” she said, smiling slightly and feeling slightly repulsed at the same time. “How silly of me.”
“And children’s books,” Max added as they reached the dorm. “I find books for little children to be highly erotic.”
“Stop right there,” Olivia said, pausing outside the door. “Farm animals and midgets are one thing, but pedophilia …”
“Not kids, just kids’ books. You remember Pat the Bunny?”
“Of course. It’s a classic.”
He took on a lecherous voice. “Pat the furry bunny. Feel Daddy’s scratchy face. Slide your finger through Mommy’s ring.”
She cracked up. “You didn’t just come up with that, did you?”
“No,” he admitted. “But it was pretty good the way I slipped it in, right?”
“Interesting choice of words,” she said, opening the door and stepping inside.
It took him a moment, and then he smiled. “That was actually unintentional.”
“Sure it was,” she teased, starting up the stairs. “I’ll meet you outside.”
Max headed toward his room, thinking he would grab his copy of On the Road. He wasn’t really reading it, but it was the kind of book that looked cool to be carrying around. Much cooler, at least, than My Ántonia, which he had to read over the summer for school. When he opened the door, he found Zeke on his cell phone with a disturbed expression on his face.
