The Best American Short Plays 2010-2011 Read online

[BILL starts singing again as he takes off his sweater. DEBBIE picks up a chocolate.]

  DEBBIE Really nice.

  [DEBBIE takes the chocolate out of its little paper cup or wrapping.]

  Godiva.

  [DEBBIE eats the chocolate, slowly, sensuously. It’s really good.]

  Mmmm. Oh. Mmmm.

  [DEBBIE licks her finger, innocently.]

  Yum.

  BILL [Watching her.] Hel-lo!

  [Singing.]

  “Come, come, come, come on tonight.”

  DEBBIE [Laughing.] Stop it.

  [BILL kisses her and continues undressing.]

  What a great place.

  BILL Mike brought Marlene here the weekend before the Super Bowl. Takes her on a trip every year. The weekend before the Super Bowl. Genius.

  DEBBIE Genius. Thank you for this weekend.

  BILL Thank Mike. He suggested this place. Gave me the extra day off.

  DEBBIE Thank you, Mike.

  BILL Happy Valentine’s Day a week early.

  DEBBIE Happy Valentine’s Day a week early. Mike’s idea?

  BILL Genius. The ole romantic bed and breakfast getaway. Here’s the bed. And here’s your breakfast.

  [He hands her a glass of sherry and maybe sings a bit of the “Sherry” song.]

  DEBBIE Here’s to Mike.

  BILL Here’s to you, beautiful.

  DEBBIE [He’s so sweet.] Ooooh...

  BILL Cheers.

  [He downs his sherry like a shot.]

  DEBBIE [Sipping her sherry to taste it.] So that’s sherry.

  BILL [Singing.] “Sherry....”

  [BILL sings bits of various songs from the sixties as he undresses down to boxers and a T-shirt. DEBBIE unpacks a small stuffed toy monkey, once made of brown plush cloth, now threadbare and gray. DEBBIE puts the monkey on a table. BILL picks it up and looks at it.]

  What’s this?

  DEBBIE MaryAnn. You’ve seen her before.

  BILL Well, in your bedroom.

  DEBBIE Well, yeah.

  [DEBBIE smiles at BILL. She takes MARYANN from BILL and sits her on a love seat, facing out, and unpacks some MARYANN-sized clothes from her suitcase, neatly placing them in a stack on the bureau. A pause.]

  BILL What’s it doing here?

  DEBBIE She. She always travels with me.

  BILL That? You always—

  DEBBIE MaryAnn. Yeah.

  BILL But it’s sad.

  DEBBIE She’s just old. I’ve had her since I was five.

  [DEBBIE takes one of the articles of clothing from the stack on the bureau. It is a small nightgown. She starts to take off the outfit that MARYANN is wearing.]

  BILL What are you doing?

  DEBBIE I thought we were going to bed.

  BILL No, with that.

  DEBBIE Her name is MaryAnn. Turn around.

  BILL What?

  DEBBIE Turn around.

  BILL [He turns around.] Why?

  DEBBIE She’s shy.

  BILL What?

  DEBBIE I’m changing her clothes.

  BILL Why do you have to change her clothes?

  DEBBIE I’m getting her ready for bed.

  BILL [He turns back to face her.] What?

  DEBBIE Turn around.

  [He does.]

  I’m getting her dressed for bed.

  BILL That’s not sleeping with us.

  DEBBIE Don’t be silly. Of course she isn’t sleeping with us.

  BILL Okay.

  DEBBIE Silly. She’ll just sit—

  BILL Can I—

  DEBBIE —right here.

  BILL Can I turn around now?

  DEBBIE Yes.

  [DEBBIE has placed MARYANN on the bureau, sitting up and looking out. BILL takes this in.]

  BILL [After a pause, still looking at MARYANN.] That’s, like, weird.

  DEBBIE Bill, you’ve seen her in my bedroom.

  BILL That’s different. Why’d you bring it?

  DEBBIE I always take her with me.

  BILL You never brought it to my place.

  DEBBIE That’s different. I don’t take a suitcase to your place. I just stay over.

  BILL [After a beat.] Okay.

  DEBBIE You wanna shower in the morning instead?

  BILL Don’t I need to shave?

  DEBBIE I’ll manage.

  BILL Aren’t I stinky?

  DEBBIE [She sniffs him.] Stinky good, not stinky bad.

  [They stand there, awkwardly staring at each other.]

  BILL You look beautiful.

  DEBBIE You look pretty good yourself.

  BILL [He sniffs her.] You smell nice too.

  DEBBIE It’s the soap. Sandalwood. From Crabtree and Evelyn.

  BILL [He nuzzles and sniffs her.] Thank you, Crabtree. And thank you, Evelyn. Whoever you are.

  DEBBIE [Breathless.] Did you put the do-not-disturb sign on the door?

  BILL [Groping her.] Yes.

  DEBBIE Good.

  [They are in an embrace, rubbing bodies together. Suddenly BILL sees MARYANN and stops the foreplay.]

  BILL Ummm.

  DEBBIE What?

  BILL She’s looking at us.

  DEBBIE What do you mean?

  BILL She’s like, watching. I can’t—

  DEBBIE You’ve seen her sitting in my room.

  BILL That was different.

  DEBBIE Different how?

  BILL I don’t know. Just different.

  DEBBIE Bill.

  BILL I can’t...um...put her in the suitcase.

  DEBBIE What?

  BILL I can’t...just put her in the suitcase.

  DEBBIE Why?

  BILL I can’t...

  [There is a very long pause as they look at each other.]

  Let’s go to bed.

  DEBBIE Okay.

  [She starts kissing him again. He doesn’t respond.]

  BILL I mean, let’s go to sleep.

  DEBBIE It’s our first weekend away together.

  BILL Yeah. Um.

  DEBBIE What’s wrong?

  BILL Nothing.

  DEBBIE Should I brush my teeth again?

  BILL Um. No need.

  DEBBIE What?

  BILL I have to pee.

  DEBBIE Oh.

  BILL You want the bathroom?

  DEBBIE No. Go ahead. Are you tired?

  BILL No.

  DEBBIE You did all the driving. I would’ve—

  BILL Yeah. I’m tired.

  DEBBIE That traffic was terrible.

  BILL Yeah.

  DEBBIE Do you want something to eat?

  BILL No.

  DEBBIE I have some peanuts in my bag.

  BILL I just need some sleep. Get some sleep.

  DEBBIE Well, sunrise sex is—

  BILL I’m just going to—

  [Points to the bathroom.]

  DEBBIE [Nodding.] Yeah, go on.

  BILL Okay.

  DEBBIE D’you want your chocolate?

  BILL Give it to MaryAnn.

  [BILL exits into the bathroom.]

  [Lights slowly fade to a pin spot on MARYANN. Then blackout.]

  • • •

  And Yet . . .

  a short play inspired by Shakespeare’s “Sonnet 130”

  Steve Feffer

  For my wife, Laura, who sent me this sonnet

  And Yet... by Steve Feffer. Copyright © 2012 by Steve Feffer. All rights reserved. Reprinted by permission of the author.

  CAUTION/ADVICE: Professionals and amateurs are hereby warned that performance of And Yet... 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 Steve Feffer at [email protected].

  Steve Feffer

  Steve Feffer’s plays have been produced or developed by theaters that include the O’Neill National Playwrights Conference, Ensemble Studio Theatre, Stages Repertory Theatre, Ruckus Theatre, and Untitled Theatre #61. His play Little Airplanes of the Heart was published in Best American Short Plays 1997–98 and in Plays from the Ensemble Studio Theatre 2000 (Faber and Faber), and has been produced at regional, university, high school, and community theaters around the country. Other publications include The Wizards of Quiz (Dramatists Play Service); Heinemann Books and New Issues Press have published additional plays and performance pieces. Feffer has won a number of national playwriting awards, including the New Jewish Theatre Project Award from the Foundation for Jewish Culture for Ain’t Got No Home and the Southwest Plays Award for a Play for Young Audiences for The House I Call Love. Feffer is a professor in the Creative Writing Program at Western Michigan University (in Kalamazoo), where he directs the graduate and undergraduate playwriting programs. He has served as a regional chair for the National Playwriting Program of the Kennedy Center American College Theatre Festival.

  • • • Production History • • •

  And Yet... was presented in February 2011 as part of the Gwen Frostic Series at Western Michigan University in Kalamazoo. This version of the play was first developed and staged in the Cafe Ypsilon Theatre in Prague, Czech Republic, as part of WMU’s Prague Summer Program at Charles University. An earlier version of And Yet... was commissioned and premiered as part of Burning Love, Short Plays Inspired by Shakespeare’s Sonnets at the Whole Art Theatre, Kalamazoo, Michigan (Tucker Rafferty, producing artistic director) and featured Steve Feffer, Max Hardy, Eli Rix, and Sarah MacClean, directed by Martie Philpot.

  Characters

  SAM, late 30s

  SHAYNA, early 20s, played by a television set, where the images of a female actor are projected

  DAVE, Sam’s friend

  SHAYNA’S MANAGER, manages a coffee shop

  time and place

  A small upper-Midwestern city. The present.

  Author’s Note

  When And Yet... was first performed, a female actor played the role of SHAYNA live backstage, where a video camera broadcast the images of her live onto the television that was onstage. This worked very well in performance. The play has also been done with the images pre-recorded and then broadcast on the television.

  This play should be performed on a unit set, with each location suggested by perhaps one set piece or object. There should be no blackouts or scene changes during the play. SAM moves the television as SHAYNA through the space, as if he is escorting her around the stage.

  Shakespeare’s “Sonnet 130”

  My mistress’ eyes are nothing like the sun;

  Coral is far more red, than her lips red:

  If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;

  If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.

  I have seen roses damasked, red and white,

  But no such roses see I in her cheeks;

  And in some perfumes is there more delight

  Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.

  I love to hear her speak, yet well I know

  That music hath a far more pleasing sound:

  I grant I never saw a goddess go,

  My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground:

  And yet by heaven, I think my love as rare,

  As any she belied with false compare.

  • • •

  [In the dark: A harp plays versions of some of today’s popular songs or current hits, especially those that seem particularly ill-suited for the harp (such as hip-hop or dance music). The harp music continues, as at rise: A hotel Sunday brunch buffet. A television on a wheeled stand is stationed behind a harp. This is SHAYNA, and whenever the script refers to SHAYNA, it is referring to the television set. On the television screen is the image of a female eye. It should not be a still image, and the eye should be blinking, looking around, etc. The stand should be as unobtrusive as possible—though there should be no effort to hide that this is a television on a television stand.]

  [SAM is eating Sunday brunch with DAVE at a hotel. SAM is staring at SHAYNA.]

  SAM I think my love as rare, as any she belied with false compare. I really do.

  [SAM listens to the music for a beat.]

  Good, huh, Dave?

  DAVE Delicious. Nobody does Sunday brunch like the Radisson. I’m gonna get more shrimp.

  SAM No, her playing.

  DAVE Oh, yeah...Great.

  [They listen for a beat.]

  What song is this?

  SAM How do I know? It’s the harp. She’s good—that’s what matters.

  DAVE How do you know? I mean, I’ve never heard you listen to anything but the Wu-Tang Clan.

  SAM You don’t have to know shit about the harp to know she’s good. And besides: It doesn’t make a difference whether I think she’s good. She’s gotta have confidence in herself. She’s a damned good harp player and she spends all her time working at that coffee shop.

  DAVE She doesn’t have any gigs?

  SAM She’s a harp player. Of course she doesn’t have any gigs. She does the occasional wedding. And she plays this brunch buffet. But that’s it.

  DAVE There’s an orchestra in town.

  SAM They got a harp player. Some woman who’s fucking ninety years old. Goddamn harp is the only thing keeping her alive. They’re going to bury her in her harp case.

  DAVE Harp’s a tough gig, man. You gotta know that going into it.

  SAM She’s playing your wedding.

  DAVE I know.

  SAM Well, I appreciate that.

  DAVE We love Shayna.

  [Beat.]

  What’s the weather gonna be like on the wedding day?

  SAM Hey, do I ask you about my heating and air-conditioning when you’re not working?

  DAVE I just wanna know what I should tell the outta town guests. It looks like there’s a snowstorm coming.

  SAM Watch my show tonight.

  [Beat.]

  I just wish I could give her the confidence to stick with it. I should be able to do that. I mean, look at her behind that harp.

  [Beat.]

  Hmmm. Her eyes are nothing like the sun.

  [Beat.]

  Does she look tired to you?

  DAVE Not really.

  SAM It’s like the blues edict: Slinging espresso on Saturday night. And playing harp at a brunch on Sunday morning.

  [The lights change. The harp playing continues, as the image on the television screen changes to an image of a female cheek. SAM addresses the audience. A weather map appears behind him. It’s a local map. It has a cartoonish picture of an impending snowstorm bearing down on its center. There is a place on the map marked “The Radisson.”]

  We met at a reception for the town’s annual meteorological awards. She was playing the reception. I thought she looked familiar. She had served me my latte every morning and then there she was playing harp in the Radisson.

  [SAM points to the weather map.]

  I had won the award for our town’s best new meteorologist. And I guess I was drunk and a little full of myself, but I got up the courage to talk to her. And I asked if she remembered me, and she said, oh yes, I get dressed to you every morning. And we laughed. And then at one point Robert Daley sat in her harp chair and wouldn’t get up. I mean, Daley has
been the big meteorologist in this town since...I don’t know...there first was weather on TV. And I told him to get out of her chair. Actually, I said, this is the harpist’s chair, motherfucker. And he got up. I asked what she was doing after work, and if she needed help pushing her harp home. And we slept together that night.

  [Beat.]

  Today there is a massive winter low approaching.

  [SAM points to the weather map.]

  It will either be what I am calling a “Winter Wallop” or a “Winter Whimper.” But I can’t decide. I can’t seem to call it, and I go on the air any moment now.

  [SAM puts his pointer down and takes a picture out of his wallet. The picture then appears where the weather map was. It is the same idealized image of a female cheek we see on the television.]

  We really have the most wonderful time. And I have been without someone for so long. We are getting married in June. I’m very excited. I’m thrilled. Today she is with her mother trying on wedding dresses. I know she is going to look so beautiful.

  [SAM looks at the picture in his wallet for a moment. He uses his pointer to point to the female cheek that has replaced the weather map.]

  Hmm. I have seen damask’d roses, red and white, but no such roses do I see in her cheeks.

  [SAM looks again at the picture and returns it to his wallet. The weather map returns. The cartoonish snowstorm is closer. The lights change. SAM escorts SHAYNA across the stage. The image on the television screen changes to that of an image of female lips. Again, as with the previous image, the lips are active and moving, though they are silent. SHAYNA is behind an espresso machine. SAM is distracted, staring at SHAYNA. SAM stands with SHAYNA’S MANAGER at the coffee shop. SHAYNA’S MANAGER wears a green apron.]

  SHAYNA’S MANAGER So what do you think, Sam? A “Winter Wallop” or a “Winter Whimper?”

  SAM Huh?

  SHAYNA’S MANAGER Your weather report this evening was...kind of inconclusive. You said we were in “a zone of uncertainty.” What does that mean?

  SAM Look, man, do I ask you to make me coffee when you’re not here? I’m just dropping off Shayna.

  SHAYNA’S MANAGER Well, you sure got a winner there. We just love Shayna. And the costumers do too. She makes a mean latte.

  SAM You know she plays the harp?

  SHAYNA’S MANAGER Oh, yeah?...Like the blues harp? The harmonica?