Diane Lefer dianelefer@gmail.com First produced November 2001 by Triumvirate Pi at the Secret Rose Theatre, North Hollywood, CA (The script is not encumbered) Cast: Tell Me Which Way A Hanged Man s Feet Will Hang A One-Act Play POST, white male derelict in early 40's, looks older; a trickster, a fast-talking con man full of manic energy; no matter how painful the words, his affect is humorous until the despair breaks through late in the game when he says he wishes he were dead., woman in her 50's, a volunteer in the Right to Life office, shellshocked by grief after her police officer son commits suicide; she has always blindly accepted authority; when she acknowledges her anger and hatred, it wakes her up, but she understands at last she must achieve a resisting self and move beyond the hate. FRED, African American parolee about Billy s age; schizophrenic; meds slow him down though his mind is racing; he d rather rely on order and systems than medications. TOMMY s VOICE (offstage, Midge s police officer son, dead) The play is a healing ritual. Billy and Fred bring Midge a gift from the underworld and are therefore good guys, but the sense of threat or unpredictability should remain present. Set: A shabby storefront Right to Life office. Set can be minimalist, but does need a telephone, a coat rack or hooks, something resembling a desk with lots of paper, continuous forms, pamphlets, phone lists, envelopes, etc. Boxes or panels on the set hide takeout food, police paraphernalia till called for. There s a means of exit leading to the bathroom. It would be good if plumbing noises could occasionally be heard. Time: The present; time runs in dreamlike fashion over the course of several weeks. Time shifts should be sculpted with lighting.
TELL ME WHICH WAY A HANGED MAN'S FEET WILL HANG DARK STAGE. SPOTS on and FRED, as they cross stage. FRED maybe pushes a shopping cart. They stop. There she is. FRED Man, you take care of it. I got things to do. LIGHTS up on Right to Life Office., her back to audience, is hanging up her jacket and scarf. She carries a paper bag. Like what? laughs and LIGHTS off the MEN. faces the audience. She recites a poem of her own composition: A poem at the end of my rope: Sometimes the world just taps to wake you up--move along! goes to coffee-maker, but finds coffee can is empty. So is box of filters. Sometimes...the world...rains down its blows. The blows kept falling with a thud thud KNOCKING at the door. We hear Midge's heartbeat. thud. Unless it's the other way around Me, thudding myself against the world. KNOCKING. (in response to knock) What do you want? I've been betrayed by a friend. Lucky you. (O.S.) (muttering)
Tell Me Which Way.../Lefer/2 goes to her desk. KNOCKING. ignores sound, begins to fold papers and stuff envelopes, slowly, in rhythm with recitation, composing as she works. Me, thudding. Not likely. I offer no resistance. (beat) How would it feel to raise an angry joyous fist? KNOCKING. No! gets up and goes to door. You bring it on yourself. opens door to. I fell asleep for a moment and he stole my bottle. How'm I gonna get through the night now? Shelter's on Pine Street. (shutting door) Wait wait wait! Hang on a minute there. Just dropped in to use the facilities. hesitates, then points to bathroom. Got it. I'll follow my nose. exits to bathroom. There are gurgling, flushing sounds. He reenters. ignores him and folds papers. He circles her, talking, trying to engage her. I would have shared with him if I knew he wanted it. I was brought up you never eat or drink in front of someone without offering to share. What kind of person won't share? (beat) Know how to hurt a friend? Put sand in his Vaseline. OK - how about ground glass? That's a joke. In bad taste. Hello? Anyone home? Talk about foul. How many times it's overflowed in there? You ought to call a plumber. That's why I don't use it. You could be friendlier. It's cold as your heart out there. (No response.) I used to go to the police station to use the john. Used to get arrested on purpose. Nice dry cell on a rainy night. Till some cop starts pushing me around.
Tell Me Which Way.../Lefer/3 I don't want to hear this. Why's he got to cuff me? What else do you do with a drunk? You buy him a drink! I said, Get your hands off me! You were asking for it. You ever get tired of being pushed around? I tried to scare him. I told him, I've got AIDS, and now they won't even let me in the door. (beat) I know who you are. Who are you? I'm a bum who can't even get arrested. (beat) Mad Dog. pats his pocket. Nothing there. Pats it again. Again. He took it! My bottle! He took it all! How'm I gonna get through the night now? I don't drink to get drunk, you know. Just maintenance. Just so I don't get the D.T.s. I'm a person, too. I'm a life. I've got rights. People don't even want to look at me. I don't want to look at you. You make me sick. They stare at each other. is vaguely menacing, then suddenly laughs, grabs himself by the collar and shouts: Get out of here, you bum! (then, conversationally) I'm throwing myself out of here. exits, hand still on collar, as if being yanked off-stage vaudeville style. BLACKOUT.
Tell Me Which Way.../Lefer/4 Heartbeat. LIGHTS UP ON:, staring into the air and holding her scarf, from the coat rack. She runs it through her hands. (composing) If the rope could be cool like water, without the burning friction, the welt-raising heat of hemp. Sound of siren. Had us a fish fry. Tommy? She listens. Nothing. twists scarf around her neck, suggestive of strangling/hanging. The phone begins to ring. doesn't move, but enters and grabs the phone. Right to Drink. Can I serve you? laughs and slams down receiver. snaps out of it. We've got rules here. Yeah? Who made em? I answer the phone. You want to smoke, do it outside. You want to drink? Out in the alley. Use the john if you need to, but don't expect me to give you money. Don't even ask. Is this a job? You get paid for this? I guess not. All you do is sit here.
Tell Me Which Way.../Lefer/5 I do my part. Why aren't you in front of the clinic? I'm too nervous for the front lines. You stuff envelopes. I answer the phone. You do it out of the goodness of your heart. They're killing their babies... Fetuses. Or is it feti? Know any Latin, Midge? I know you want to play, you got to pay. I have always played by the rules. You make a rule about life? You look like you're half-dead. Half or more. (beat) I had a son. Tommy's dead. What choice did I have in that? Long uncomfortable pause. I set up the folding chairs when there's a meeting. I do whatever George tells me to do when he comes in. George, yeah. Mr. Right to Life. I never see him in here. Only time I see George is on TV. I wasn't always nervous. What do you do when you're alone? Feel bad? Stare into space?
Tell Me Which Way.../Lefer/6 George is all right. He understands I'm no good in public. I'm no good in a crowd. He gave me something I'm good at. (beat) I do just fine on my own. I write poetry. I used to. I had a whole notebook filled with poems. Fell asleep for just a moment and someone stole it. The other thing I like, I like to dance. You dance? Watch TV? Recite something for me, Midge. One of your poems. No. Don't keep it to yourself. (beat) I'd like to hear-- acts reluctant, but really wants to. She prepares herself self consciously and recites: "Where Has the World Gone?" Where is the world? I am cast down in a dark pit where nothing reaches me. It's cold here. Above me, only shadows and sometimes a white seam. Don't throw me a rope. Who knows what I might do with it. But a hand - a kind friendly hand reaching -- You can touch me if you want to. Are you crazy? Well, yeah. I thought you'd noticed. You got the wrong cause, Midge. I wish my mother'd had an abortion. Those women aren't murderers. Those women didn't hurt your son. (beat) I know a murderer. No, actually Fred's a killer. There's a difference between killing and murdering. I wish my son had never been born.
Tell Me Which Way.../Lefer/7 Stop. Stop it right there. I thought you land in prison, you give up your rights, but turns out it don't work that way. Prisoner's still got a right to refuse to see his old Dad. I hitchhiked up to see my boy. Which wasn't easy. Who's gonna stop for me? I wasn't asking for respect. I don't expect him to love me. I can't get into prison. I can't get into jail. They've taken everything from me. You get betrayed by your own flesh and blood. You know who I am. You know about Tommy. I know what I know. You're saying these things to hurt me. You got the wrong cause, Midge. You want to do good, fight for the American Indian. We fucked them over big time. But the colored, black, African American, them you got to bend over for. They get everything. It's got so-- You read {past tense} about it in the paper. I don't just read the newspaper, I sleep in it. Hot weather I sleep in the nude. Cold weather I sleep in the news. No one gets up close and personal with the news like me. exits. (in Billy's direction) You sleep in a nest of newspapers. Do you clutch a bottle to your side? Have you felt the whack of a stick against the soles of your feet? Get up! Move along! reacts to Tommy's voice. Then:
Tell Me Which Way.../Lefer/8 The prod, the jab-- Look what I got, ma. The baton. Twenty-six inches long. Diameter a little more than an inch. Seventeen carved rings to improve your grip. When you're beating someone into submission. No! Of course not! He swung at you. He wouldn't let you cuff him. No blood was shed. It was just a chokehold. Choke! He asked for it! It just happened. (composing/reciting)(her heartbeat is heard) I hear the church bells tolling for the babies, a police baton ringing ringing against the pavement in the cold night air... I would do terrible things if I had a choice., as if warding off panic, begins deep breathing. She gets up and goes to coffee-maker. Can is still empty.
BLACKOUT. Tell Me Which Way.../Lefer/9 LIGHTS UP ON. She has a takeout container on desk, opens it but pushes it aside without eating. enters. Throughout the action, he remains exquisitely aware of the food on Midge's desk. He speaks as he begins to take things from his pack. Each item is wrapped in carefully folded newspaper which he carefully unwraps. He examines each item, wraps it again, replaces it in pack. Things like: a note pad, cake of soap, safety razor, toothbrush, hunting knife, deck of cards. One small package containing a dinner knife and fork is last, and with the utensils, he'll pay extra attention to the food. In my position, friendship's all a person's got. Friendship can be someone handing you a dollar, knowing it will go to self-destructive means, but respecting your despair. That's a generous heart. No one respected my despair. It scared my husband off. Out the door. Gone. My best friend's a killer. You were betrayed by your friend. Not by Fred. If I told him, he'd kill the guy who stole my bottle. Last night, these guys got me in the alley and Fred came running. He's big, Fred, and they ran. Are you all right, Little Bill? he says. I hate it when he calls me Little Bill. But you know what? If anyone saw him, it's a parole violation. You raise a finger and they send you back for life. But he didn't hesitate. He came running to protect me. Are you all right, Little Bill? (beat) It isn't easy to give. Long pause. Then slowly tears off the top of the Styrofoam take-out container, starts to put a portion of Chinese food on it. Hold the rice. Ate enough of that as a child. Government surplus rice. I'd rather eat garbage these days than rice.
Tell Me Which Way.../Lefer/10 pushes the portion towards him. He eats. Thanks. Hey, that's pretty spicy. Tasty. Hey, what's that sin where you gouge yourself with food? Gorge. Gorge? Gorge. The word is gorge. Isn't that a chasm? (he mispronounces it: CHAZM) Chasm. (KAZM) You're a smart lady. I'm not ignorant. Neither am I.(beat) I get a V.A. pension, but I don't need it. Just spend it on booze, and I can make enough out working- You mean panhandling. Yeah. I cashed that check and gave a woman three hundred dollars. I mean I'm all fucked up, that's who I am, but there's people out there who shouldn't be in the street. That woman and her kids. Gave her the money and told her I stole it. I felt good inside, like anyone would, but I didn't want her to know the money was mine. Think she'll remember me in her prayers? Billy the Thief? (long look at him) I'm sorry for what I said before. I have nothing against you. It's not personal. But I have a lot of pain seeing a drunk. My son is dead because of someone--
Tell Me Which Way.../Lefer/11 --someone worthless-- --like you. & Fred's not a murderer. Not if you know all the facts. He tells this guy to put his head in a noose like it's a joke and the guy did and Fred hung him. But the guy knew Fred was crazy. You let a crazy man put a rope around your neck, that's suicide, not murder. Oh my God. It was his own choice, Midge. My God. Who are you talking about? Are you talking about my son? (beat) Do you know the choice Tommy made? I don't even have to close my eyes to see him, his feet dangling just above the floor. White socks. His uniform socks were black. A social worker in uniform. That's what he said when he first went on the job. To protect and serve. But he put on white socks when he did it and I want to know why. Did he feel unworthy of that uniform, or did he blame it? He took off his shoes. He put on white socks. And I see this...seam. This white seam. It's the bottom of a sock. But I don't know if it's his heel or his toe. I wasn't there when they found him. Are the toes down? Or is it the heel? Your son didn't mean to hurt you. You know everything, don't you? Heel or toe? Can you tell me that? I look up and I see it above me and I don't even know if it's his heel or his toe. Your son was in pain. [end of excerpt]