SUBREVERIE

 

by k brian neel

© 2011, All Rights Reserved 

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHARACTERS

 

Hermione          a teen model, blonde-goth 

Yung                  a business woman in her 30s (not necessarily Asian) 

Imogen              a black housewife in her 50s 

Fantasy Man     innocuously handsome, silent 

 

 

 

 

 

 

NOTE: Dialogue should be rapid, as if it's thought racing by. 

 

The sound of a subway moving down the tracks. 

 

Lights up on Hermione, Yung and Imogen standing in the subway car, holding onto bars to steady themselves. Fantasy Man is seated down stage center of them, back to the audience. He's dressed "nice casual". The women find themselves drawn to stare at him in covet. 

 

They end up staring at him for a long time. Then…

 

IMOGEN:        HERMIONE:       YUNG:

I love him.      He is perfect.      You want me. 

 

IMOGEN: 

I love him. (pause) I don't know him, but I love him. 

 

YUNG:

You would complete me. In time. 

 

HERMIONE: 

He fucking kicks ass. 

 

IMOGEN:

I would do whatever his need. 

 

HERMIONE: 

He was a sweet Amish boy who grew up simply, working the land, drinking warm, fresh milk from his family's cows, smelling his mother's fresh bread and pies cooling on the window sill, after long days of digging and tilling and hammering. . . 

 

IMOGEN: 

I want him to make me unhappy. That's what I want. Comfortable unhappiness. 

 

HERMIONE:

. . . toiling all his life until muscles carved into his arms and chest, weary but satisfied, he looks out over the vast countryside at sunset with bright blue eyes and sandy locks drifting in the breeze, waving to the other amish workers carriaging back to their farmhouses. . .

 

YUNG:

You have a knife, no, a gun. . . you have a pistol. You have a pistol in your pants, tucked in your belt there. And you know how to use it. 

 

HERMIONE:

. . . until his time of passage, he is thrust into the outside world, to taste the sins of city-life, he turned wild and unsavory, the rush of sex and the hazy bolt of drugs and clothes shopping, it's all too much for him, he bottoms out, reeling in tears, prostrate on the pissed-tile floor. . . 

 

YUNG:

You just got off of work. . . at a construction site. You build stuff. Buildings mainly. You're a worker, skilled with your hands and arms. You're smart, educated, but you're new to the country and don't speak our language. You make a lot of money because money's good in union construction, and because you are good. Good and sweaty. You glisten with sweat -- starched arm pits and damp jeans. But you smell good. Like fresh lavender. 

 

IMOGEN:

I want to be tied up and spanked. Then I want to tie him up and have my revenge. . .  

 

YUNG:

You're on your way to kill my husband. 

 

             The subway jiggles, lights flicker.

 

YUNG: 

You're going to take care of me. 

 

IMOGEN: 

I fight back. 

 

HERMIONE: 

. . . prostrate on the pissed-tile floor of a public urinal in a train station, begging incomprehensibly, echoing in the filthy sour air. . .

 

YUNG:

You don't speak English. You can't talk to me. But you're smitten with me. 

 

HERMIONE: 

. . . but he realizes, now, he's a stronger man, he wipes his tears, he rises, he walks out of the restroom, out of the train station, down the street, down another street, to a park. He finds an inkling of solace in the green; and cleansing in the fresh morning air. . . 

 

YUNG:

You speak to me without words. 

 

HERMIONE:

. . .then he sees her. . . 

 

IMOGEN: 

I am his equal. That's how I can beat his ass. 

 

HERMIONE:

. . . Her name is Hermione. . .

 

IMOGEN:

I see him for what he is. A real man. 

 

YUNG:

You walk into our apartment and shoot my useless husband dead. Because you need me. 

 

HERMIONE:

. . . She is a young, beautiful blonde gothic model. . .  

 

IMOGEN:

Complex and large and mine no matter what. 

 

HERMIONE:

He sees her and it's as if he's floating toward her like music in the air, unable to stop himself, notes rising and falling in lyrical melody, until he's upon her. . . He says his name is Bartholomewe. 

 

YUNG:

Your name is Rex. 

 

IMOGEN:

(in a man's voice) "I am Bairrfhoinn, Master of Swords" 

 

               Pause. They look at her in disbelief. She stand by her choice.

 

IMOGEN:

"I -- powerful as black skin; feared as my sword's disdain; admired as God Lucious of Werndoald. I kneel upon the battleground, wounded in the killing steam ascending into the nacre sky. The questionable end of crimson assail surrounds me. Stave. Spent. Quivering. Mine only enemy myself, alone to contemplate these dirty hands which once held fury and tumult. I bemoan the day moon rising to join eternal gray. The challenge is done. Bright will not protest. And darkness has nothing to win. So dull is the end of my war." 

 

Long pause.

 

YUNG:

You are stupid. 

 

HERMIONE:

What is she talking about? 

 

YUNG:

Same thing you are talking about. 

 

HERMIONE:

He is mine. He is here for me. 

 

YUNG:

You wish. 

 

IMOGEN:

I know I wish. 

 

HERMIONE:

(talking to Yung, indicating Imogen) He doesn't like her. 

 

IMOGEN:

What?!

 

HERMIONE:

Or her. (talking to Imogen, indicating Yung)

 

YUNG:

What?!

 

HERMIONE:

He loves me. 

 

IMOGEN: 

I claim the warrior. I said the L-word. 

 

HERMIONE:

But he is mine. 

 

YUNG:

(to Hermione) You are delusional.

 

HERMIONE: 

She is. 

 

IMOGEN:

I am not, scissor-head! 

 

YUNG:

(to Imogen) You are insane. 

 

HERMIONE: 

(to Imogen) She is too, isn't she? 

 

IMOGEN:

I am not insane, pie-head. 

 

YUNG:

You are. And so are you. 

 

IMOGEN:

I am speaking for myself, that's all. 

 

YUNG:

You spoke of "your warrior." You are tarnishing him in my mind. You have no right to do that. It's theft.  

 

IMOGEN:

I am not in your head. I am here. (indicating her own head) In here. No where else. 

 

YUNG:

It's far from that. You are in here too. (indicating her own head)

 

HERMIONE:

She's in this mind? (indicating her own head)

 

YUNG: 

So are you!

 

HERMIONE:

She is too!

 

YUNG: 

How dare you! 

 

IMOGEN:

I dare whatever. . . 

 

HERMIONE:

She is in her; and she is in her. . . 

 

YUNG:

And you (Hermione) are in me too. . . 

 

HERMIONE: 

They're raping my brain! 

 

YUNG:

You rape and you rape.

 

HERMIONE:

Rape! Rape! Rape!

 

IMOGEN: 

And I . . . (short pause) I get it. 

 

HERMIONE:

She gets it. 

 

YUNG: 

(to Hermione) You shut up. 

 

HERMIONE:

(referring to Imogen) She can't get it! 

 

IMOGEN:

I'm...

 

YUNG:

Talking to you. You are talking to you. And you to you. That's the end of it. 

 

Hermione is perplexed and a little afraid of the others. She turns to the man and hides in another fantasy. 

 

HERMIONE:

He works in his lab, day and night. He must save her life from a crippling cancer. Time is running out. . . 

 

YUNG:

(to Hermione) You shut up. 

 

IMOGEN: 

(to herself) I am. . . 

 

HERMIONE: 

He is going to save the world. . . 

 

YUNG: 

Not talking to you. 

 

IMOGEN: 

I am. . . 

 

YUNG:

Not talking to you any more. 

 

HERMIONE:

(unable to escape, she addresses the women) If she talks to herself, she talks to everyone. 

 

YUNG: 

(to man) Not to you. 

 

              They all look at the man.

 

HERMIONE:

He is a good man.

 

IMOGEN:

I see him. 

 

YUNG: 

You? 

 

IMOGEN:

I see him for what he is.  

 

HERMIONE:

Him? 

 

IMOGEN:

I see myself for what I am. 

 

YUNG: 

You?

 

IMOGEN:

I.

 

HERMIONE:

She?

 

IMOGEN: 

I. . .

 

HERMIONE:

(whispering) Who is he?I

 

IMOGEN:

Me.

 

YUNG:

Who?!

 

HERMIONE:

Him?! He is him. Duh. 

 

YUNG:

You are not exclusive. 

 

IMOGEN:

No, I'm not. 

 

YUNG:

You don't care about him. 

 

IMOGEN: 

I don't care. 

 

YUNG:

You did once. 

 

HERMIONE:

He cares for me! Only me! They need to shut up! 

 

YUNG:

(to Hermione) You shut up. (to Imogen) You have to care for him. For something. For something. 

 

IMOGEN:

I don't have to care. 

 

YUNG:

Then you are nothing.

 

IMOGEN:

Maybe I am. I can never really know anyone. I can never really know myself. I got to get used to that. (pause) But if I don't need to know him, I can give up my love. Cause I don't need that. (short pause) I am . . . 

 

The train screeches to a stop. 

Imogen leaves.

 

The train starts up again. 

Yung and Hermone stare at the man. After a long pause. . .

 

HERMIONE:                                                          YUNG:

He sees as if through a foggy gas mask.

All he hears is his own heavy breath.               You are a small, fragile man. 

All he feels is sweat seeping over his skin.     You are afraid and lonely. 

All he thinks of is Hermione. . .                           You hear voices. 

                                                                                  And you love me. 

 

Lights fade to black as the train continues on.

 

END

 

 

 

 




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