razorbutterflyapple

Here is that wild play -- wild in the sense of whattheFwerewethinking rather than in the sense of actual wild things happening in the script -- I was telling you about a while back that is a collaboration between me and EJC Calvert (whom I miss terribly: move to Chicago you NYC jerkface!) and Kristin Idaszak (who should add another i to her last name so it is more like Naomi Iizuka). Liz wrote razor, Kristin wrote butterfly, and I tackled apple. Other than the initial rules, we did not discuss what we were writing until we had each finished the first drafts. Then we kind of rotated the play around and revised to make it somewhat cohesive. But it is still fairly wacky. And by fairly I mean TOTALLY wacky.

razorbutterflyapple
act i: razor

TREE
razorbutterflyapple: Act I: razor.
It begins, as it always begins, in a field.

(CAROL enters, MAE dragging behind. She sets up at the base of the tree.)

TREE
Everything doesn’t always begin in a field. But all the stories that happen to me do. I don’t… move. Generally.

(CAROL begins shaving her face.)

TREE
Usually, I’m so sad, I’m the saddest tree in the world. A sad, sad, sad, sad, lonely tree.

MAE
Carol… Carol… come on… Carol… the bus…

CAROL
We got time and you know it.

TREE
Though, to be perfectly frank, these beginnings always make me nervous. The beginning began, it has already begun, and now all we can do is dread the end, when the story will be over and I will be lonely again.

MAE
If we miss the bus again—

CAROL
Shut up, Mae. I can’t talk and shave at the same time.

TREE
Usually, my only visitors are birds. Always flapping, flapping, pecking, flapping. Today I have children! O, joy!

MAE
You won’t grow hairs that way. You’re being stupid.

CAROL
I’ll grow hairs if a goddamn well want to!

MAE
You can’t! You’re a girl, and you can’t grow hairs on your face!

CAROL
Try having faith, Mae. “If you shave there, hairs will grow…”

TREE
I want hairs! I want hairs, too! Shave me! Shave me! Shave all over my bark, and we’ll be haired together!

MAE
Your mom only told you that because she didn’t want you shaving your legs and turning into a whore.

CAROL
You shave. Don’t you?

MAE
None of your business! Come on. Let’s go. Seriously. Come on come on come on come on come on come on come on come on come on come on

TREE (simultaneous with MAE’s “come on”s)
No! Take your time. Stay forever. Lounge, read, climb if you want, I don’t mind! Just stay!

CAROL
You can go on by yourself! Why don’t you just go on and pretend like you don’t even know me, if you think I’m such a freak and an idiot, why don’t you do that.

MAE
If you didn’t think this was wrong you wouldn’t do it hiding.

TREE
She’s not hiding, she’s with me!

CAROL
Mae, there is only one thing I want in the whole entire world. I don’t give a shit about trust funds or celebrity or my virginity, all I want is a thick, full beard.

TREE
All I want is YOU! I want US!

CAROL
Please, Mae.

MAE
Just hurry.

CAROL
Thank you.

TREE
If you slip with that razor and die, promise you’ll be buried among my roots?

act ii: butterfly

MAE
Act ii: butterfly.

TREE
Thank god we’re onto the second act. I mean, beginnings and endings are all the same. Middles, though. Middles are fun.

CAROL
What?

MAE
Mae and Carol die.

CAROL
That’s fucked up, Mae.

MAE
I don’t say it.

CAROL
I just heard you. Listen, I know you’re mad about the beard thing, but—

MAE
I know it came out of my mouth, but I wasn’t doing the saying. It just came out.

CAROL
That’s fucked up.

MAE
Mae and Carol die, Mae and Carol die, Mae and Carol die.

CAROL
Stop it. You’re freaking me out.

MAE
That’s how the story ends.

CAROL
What story? No it doesn’t. Mae, I’ll kill you.

TREE
Telling the middle of a story’s like detonating a bomb. You’ve already done all the hard science-fiction lab construction bullshit, and you don’t have to worry about cleaning up the bodies. You just press the little red button and watch the fireworks.

CAROL
So what do we do?

MAE
I don’t know. Something middling. Say something about a butterfly?

CAROL
My pussy looks like a butterfly.

MAE
That’s it?

CAROL
Uh-uh. Passive aggressive. Like you.

MAE
I’m not—

CAROL
Sit there in a shadow box looking beautiful and dead.

TREE
Stop!

Carol and Mae acknowledge the tree for the first time.

CAROL
What?

TREE
Know what’s hard about being a tree?

CAROL
You can’t have sex?

MAE
You’re such a nympho.

TREE
There’s no pathos or bitter longing or sweet affection in this play. There’s no sense of scale, no grandeur.

MAE
Trees have grandeur. Or at least scale. Right?

TREE
You’re missing the point. There’s no high tragedy. The stakes aren’t life-and-death.

CAROL
Life’s not life-or-death.

TREE
Fuck it. Let’s just move on to apple.

act iii: apple
TREE
apple has nothing to do with the fruit. There are no apples in this scene. I'm not an apple tree. No apples are going to be eaten, and no apples were harmed in the writing of what you are about to see.

Apple attempts to extrapolate from one's understanding of an apple and create an end to this strange tale. The friendship you've seen begins with a conflict between Mae's need for punctuality and Carol's need for a beard and progresses into a conversation about coming of age with the brief acknowledgment that a pussy resembles a butterfly.

Many years have passed since the razor and the butterfly, and we are looking for an end like an apple: clean, crisp, hard, sweet, juicy. Refreshing. Simple. Many years have passed because sometimes time passes. We trees know this.

MAE
Can I say I'm sorry.

CAROL
You can say whatever you want.

MAE
I'm/

CAROL
Shut up.

MAE
Okay.

CAROL
Just shut up. Just shut up. Shut up shut up shut up.

MAE begins to cry softly. CAROL goes over and hits her and continues to hit her until MAE is curled up in a ball and then CAROL kicks MAE and CAROL is crying and they are both sobbing and then CAROL collapses on top of MAE and they hold each other and rock back and forth.

MAE
I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I am so so sorry.

CAROL
Shhhhhhh. Shhhhhhhhhh. Oh god. Shhh shhh shhh.

MAE
I didn't know. I honestly had no idea. I didn't I wouldn't have, there's no way.

CAROL
Shhhhhhh. I know. I know. Shhhhhhhhhh.

More crying and hugging that eventually turns into laughing.

MAE
You hit me really hard.

CAROL
I'm sorry. You can hit me back if you want.

MAE
I'm not going to hit you.

CAROL
You can if you want.

MAE
I miss you.

CAROL
I miss you too.

Hug into blackout.

TREE
This is the moment I dreaded. Everything doesn't always end in a field, but all the stories that happen to me do. Mae and Carol die. Yes, it is my line. Mae and Carol die. Not now, but eventually. And they won't be buried amongst my roots.

There is no one here to hear me as I fall apart. Not even you. I'm alone waiting for visitors. The saddest tree in the world because I'm the most awake.

END OF PLAY