I've set before myself a new challenge: I'm going to write a short play every week, short as in anywhere from 2 - 20ish pages. My long term goal is eventually, once again, to create something that can go up onstage and be totally awesome, but I've come to realize that my playwrighting skrills are a bit out of practice, not having written a full length piece in something like 5 years. Out of that realization, this weekly play idea was born. Some of these may be awesome, some may suck, I suspect most will fall somewhere in-between. Since I don't really plan on doing anything with these other than learning from them, I'll toss the ones that I like up on the blogosaur. Here's the first one that I wrote this week. I kind of like it.
Upstage left, lights rise on a man sitting in a large wingback chair, much of his face in shadow, pipe in one hand and scotch in the other. This is Father.
Downstage right, Lita’s bedroom appears. It is the bedroom of a young girl. She stands in front of the bed wearing footed pajamas like a kid. She’s a grown woman.
My father was a werewolf hunter by trade.
Lights rise to show stuffed werewolf heads mounted on the walls above and around Father.
He spent the week before and after every full moon away from us.
Her father stands, puts a hat on, tosses a pack on his back, takes a rifle off of the wall, and exits.
LITA (cont’d)
Effectively half of his life. Half of our childhood. Where he went, we had no idea. It could’ve been the nearby campgrounds, it could have been Siberia. He rarely spoke of his work. But without fail, seven nights after every full moon, he returned bearing fresh evidence of his latest victories.
Father enters, followed by a pair of workmen who are carrying a rolled-up werewolf skin rug. They lay it on the floor and unroll, head facing the audience. Father stands atop it. He takes a manly swig from his flask.
LITA (cont’d)
Don’t misunderstand, none of this was hidden from us. On the contrary, it adorned every corner of our home, which I suspect is what drove mother mad, but that’s a whole other story. He never told us not to, we simply knew that we weren’t supposed to talk to our father about what he did. The mystique of his occupation was so strong, in fact, my brother and I dared only speak of it in whispers.
Pssst! Pssssssssssst!
Lita lifts up a sheet to reveal Karis hiding under her bed.
What?
I think our father is a werewolf hunter.
I know. We’ve discussed this. In whispers.
KARIS
Oh yeah.
LITA
Go back to your room.
KARIS
Can I sleep under here?
LITA
No!
KARIS
But it’s dark and the house is full of werewolves!
LITA
They’re all dead and stuffed, stupid.
KARIS
They look so alive!
She heaves a sigh and drops the sheet, hiding him once more.
KARIS (cont’d)
Thanks sis!
LITA
It was true, though. Our house was full of dead werewolves. Not a single corridor escaped the burden of bearing their heads. And we noticed something after a while.
KARIS
pokes his head out
Hey, have you noticed that they keep changing the old ones out with new ones?
LITA
Yes!
Workmen enter on Father’s side of the stage. Directed by Father, they take down several trophies and replace them with new ones. They all exit, carrying the old trophies with them.
LITA (cont’d)
It made sense, of course. If he was going to keep bringing home fresh spoils, he had to make room for them. Still, we had to wonder.
Karis crawls out and sits on the bed. He too is wearing footed pajamas like a little boy, even though he’s grown.
KARIS
Hey, what do you think they do with the old ones? You think they burn them? God, imagine the stench!
LITA
They sell them.
KARIS
You think?
LITA
Father has to pay the bills somehow.
KARIS
Aren’t we rich?
LITA
I think we’re old money. I’m not sure.
KARIS
Who wants to buy a stuffed werewolf?
LITA
Affluent types who wish to be seen as eccentric.
KARIS
What’s a stuffed werewolf go for, you think?
LITA
Well it’s not the kind of thing you can get just anywhere. I bet the gray ones go for more than the brown ones.
KARIS
Because they’re rare?
LITA
Exactly. Oh! Remember that white one we had hanging in the kitchen last Christmas? I bet that one drew a fat stack of cash.
KARIS
Why are they different colors? Was that one a white person?
LITA
I don’t think it’s a skin color thing. Hair color maybe?
KARIS
So the grey ones and the white ones come from old people? That might explain their rarity.
LITA
But then why do we never see any blonde ones?
KARIS
Because a blonde werewolf would look stupid.
LITA
Our house was a museum whose installations were constantly in flux. And it wasn’t just heads, either.
KARIS
Hey, have you seen the new setup in the library?
Father leads the workmen back in. This time, they roll in a platform, atop of which stands the full body of a stuffed werewolf. It is up on two legs with its mouth open, teeth visible. Directed by Father, the workmen place the platform and then decorate the scene with paper mache boulders, plants, tree stumps, etcetera to make a nice little diorama. Very Museum of Natural Science and shit. The workmen exit. Father surveys the scene, steps in and adjusts the werewolf’s arms to make it look more fierce. He surveys his handiwork, then exits. Lita walks over to it and Karis follows. They look at it for a moment.
LITA
Something weird about this one.
KARIS
It’s big.
Lita examines the werewolf’s face closely. This makes Karis nervous.
KARIS (cont’d)
What are you doing?
LITA
Hey, Mr. Werewolf. What’s shakin?
KARIS
Sis, maybe we shouldn’t--
Lita turns its head to one side, then the other
KARIS (cont’d)
Are you crazy? Stop that!
LITA
Opens its mouth and looks inside
Say aaaaaahhhh.
KARIS
Stop it!
She touches its teeth.
LITA
What big teeth you have.
KARIS
Oh my god, please stop!
LITA
I don’t know what it is, but there’s something extra creepazoid about this one.
KARIS
Dad’s gonna notice that! If it’s one hair off, he’ll notice!
LITA
Then I’ll blame you and he’ll believe me because he loves me more.
Karis opens his mouth to respond, but doesn’t. He looks at her for a moment, then runs back to his room.
With some effort, Lita pulls one of the wolf’s arms down to her level and examines the long sharp claws extending from its fingers. She reaches out and touches the point of one. She pushes her finger hard against it, as if she’s daring it to puncture her skin. There’s a noise outside that startles her from her focused state and makes her pull her finger away from the claw and clasp it in her other hand. She hides just as Father enters, his head in a book. He walks past the werewolf, then stops and turns back to it. He notices that it is not as he left it. He sets the book down and adjusts the werewolf’s arms and head back to where they were. As he’s doing this, he catches a scent on the werewolf. He sniffs, trying to determine what it is that he’s smelling. He follows it for a moment, then figures it out.
Lita.
She crawls out from hiding. She’s casually holding the finger that she had pressed against the werewolf claw.
FATHER (cont’d)
Why are you hiding?
She shrugs.
FATHER (cont’d)
You tampered with this. Do not lie to me.
She nods. He looks at her for a moment, takes a breath, then turns back to the werewolf.
FATHER (cont’d)
What do you think of him?
LITA
It’s big.
FATHER
I suppose he is.
LITA
How many bullets did you have to use?
FATHER
Just one.
touches its heart
Right there. He was lapping up water from a puddle when I approached. I was upwind of him, but I’d taken the precaution of masking my scent. He never knew I was there. It was all rather humane. Textbook in its perfection. So no, he was not nearly so fierce as this display might lead one to believe. Such is the joy of taxidermy. How was school today?
LITA
School? Um, okay.
FATHER
Eighth grade. Your last report card showed a C in mathematics. It had previously been an A. Explain this.
LITA
You looked at it?
He says nothing, just looks at her and waits for an explanation.
LITA (cont’d)
I don’t like thinking about numbers.
FATHER
You seemed to like them well enough before.
LITA
Well now I find them rather unpleasant.
FATHER
Do you like your teacher?
LITA
We’ve had a sub for the past few weeks. She seems nice, but she doesn’t know very much.
FATHER
Your permanent teacher has been ill, I take it?
Lita shrugs.
FATHER (cont’d)
Lita, your teachers have a job to do and I suppose most of them are reasonably qualified to do it, but I want you to remember this word of wisdom from the flawed man who is your father. Do not let them overrule what you know to be true. If something they try to teach you feels wrong, reject it. Vomit it forth from your being the way you would a poison from your belly. Do not allow it to sink in. Trust your own sense of what’s true. Do you understand?
LITA
Dad, why do you do this?
FATHER
You’ve homework to do.
starts to exit, turns back
And in the future, daughter, look, but no touching.
He exits. She remembers her hurting finger and winces at it. She examines it as she walks back to her room and sits down on her bed. Lights dim on the werewolf side of the stage. Reluctantly, she pulls a textbook out of her school bag and sits down to do her homework. Karis pops his head out from under the bed.
KARIS
Sis?
She’s mildly startled.
LITA
Dammit, Karis.
He climbs out from under the bed.
KARIS
It’s just me.
LITA
And this is just my room. What are you doing in here? Under there? Again.
KARIS
Waiting for you. Where have you been?
LITA
I have homework.
KARIS
Sis, I think I know something.
LITA
Great. Do my homework for me.
KARIS
Dad does what he does.....for what?
LITA
Because he failed eight grade math?
Karis pulls a bag out from under the bed and puts it on Lita’s bed.
KARIS
I did something.
LITA
You think something, you did something. You’re speaking in very general terms today, brother of mine.
KARIS
There was a head mounted in the big dining room a couple of months ago. You might remember it. Average size. Brown fur with touches of gray. Nothing special, really. There was just something about it.
LITA
eyeing the bag and moving away from it.
Oh my God, Karis.
KARIS
He had this really great jawline. Good lines, you know?
LITA
And you dared to call me crazy.
KARIS
I totally covered my tracks, sis. I replaced him with another one off the wall in the north corridor. Same color and size. Then I took the nail out of the wall where it had been, I even filled in the hole that the nail left.
LITA
Has dad said anything?
KARIS
Not to me. Has he said anything to you?
LITA
He asked me about school.
KARIS
Really?
LITA
Did you know he looks at our report cards?
KARIS
No way.
LITA
Karis, what were you thinking?
KARIS
I don’t have very many friends.
LITA
You don’t have any friends.
KARIS
Neither do you.
LITA
Because we have so very much in common with other kids our age.
KARIS
I know, that’s why I thought...I felt like he could hear me somehow.
LITA
Hear you?
KARIS
I liked to prop him up at the foot of my bed where we could look at each other and we would just talk.
LITA
Karis, if you have a brain in your head, you’ll put your imaginary friend back where you found him. But at the very least, you get that thing out of my room. The last thing I want is--
He opens the bag and yanks the head out, along with the wooden plaque to which it is mounted. But instead of a werewolf head, it’s the head of a middle-aged woman, with only a few slight traces of werewolf fur here and there. She does not look at all ferocious. Lita screams in horror at the sight and recoils. She keeps screaming. Karis puts the head down and puts his hand over her mouth to make her stop.
KARIS
Someone’s going to hear you.
LITA
They’re...all of them. All throughout the house.
KARIS
Every room, every corridor. I know.
LITA
I don’t know why I’m acting so surprised. Wer, man. Wolf--
KARIS
Wolf.
LITA
You said it was a he.
KARIS
I’d just been thinking of it as a he for so long.
LITA
You’d been thinking of it as your best friend.
KARIS
I’m pathetic, okay? I know.
LITA
I’m not much better, honestly. The only reason I ever have to speak to other kids my age is to ask them to leave me alone.
KARIS
Look, I have a theory. See, I think if you were to kill a werewolf and just leave it, I think it would probably just turn back into a human right away.
LITA
Like in the movies?
KARIS
Right. But I think father’s doing something after he shoots them that slows down the process.
LITA
So he can use them for decor?
KARIS
I guess. How should I know?
LITA
Maybe it’s naturally a slow process.
KARIS
The rehumanizing?
LITA
Yeah, maybe it takes a few weeks. Naturally.
KARIS
None of this seems very natural.
LITA
God, Karis. Are we the children of a lunatic?
KARIS
He started hunting more after mom died.
LITA
But he still hunted before that. He still hung dead people all over our walls. Why? To what end any of this? Who was this woman? Who are any of them? Who--? Oh my god.
KARIS
What?
LITA
grabs a calendar off of her wall and scans through it
What day is it?
KARIS
The 12th.
LITA
The library.
Lita runs out of her room to the library. Karis follows after, leaving the woman’s head behind. Lights in her room dim as they enter the library and turn on the lights. The wolf’s hands, his feet, and part of his arms and legs are now human, but the rest of him is stilly plenty furry. There’s fur all over the ground beneath it. The rug is gone.
KARIS
Oh my god.
LITA
They’re getting rid of it any day now, I bet.
KARIS
picking up some of the fur on the ground
What a mess.
LITA
There’s something about this one, Karis. I can feel it.
KARIS
Well, do you recognize its feet, or its hands?
She examines the parts of it that are human.
LITA
I’ve seen these hands before, I swear.
KARIS
Married. See, look. Ring line. And definitely male, judging by the arms. Or else a woman that one might describe as handsome.
LITA
Okay detective, but do you have a name?
KARIS
I’m doing the best I can here.
They continue examining it. Karis pulls off a clump of fur, then another.
KARIS (cont’d)
Hey look. You can pick the fur right off.
Lita picks madly at the fur on the wolf’s face
LITA
Help me!
Karis helps her. After pulling at fur for a moment, he notices something about the beast’s snout and begins pulling at it.
KARIS
Wait a second. Pull here.
LITA
Here?
KARIS
Yeah. It’s loose.
They both pull at its snout. They work it up and down trying to loosen it from the face.
KARIS
There, I think we almost got it. If we can just--
The snout comes loose from the face, causing Lita and Karis to fall backwards. A man’s face is now revealed. As with the woman’s head in Karis’s bag, it looks not at all ferocious.
KARIS (cont’d)
Pain. Ouch.
LITA
Oh my god.
KARIS
What? Oh, hey, isn’t that your math teacher?
LITA
Mr. Clem. He disappeared a few weeks ago.
KARIS
Huh. Well, mystery solved, right?
Lita starts crying.
KARIS (cont’d)
Oh, Leet, I’m sorry, I didn’t even think. I guess he was a pretty good teacher, huh? I would’ve been in his class in a couple of years. I wish I’d--
Lita screams and punches Mr. Clem in the face. His taxidermied body stays in place, but his head turns to the side in response to her punch.
KARIS (cont’d)
Oh. So not such a good teacher then.
turns his head back to face Lita
Once again, class, our very own Miss Lita has done her part to reenforce the notion that girls and math do not get along.
KARIS
He said that?
LITA
And worse, every day.
MR. CLEM
And from out of the mouth of Lita, yet another incorrect answer.
KARIS
Were you really that bad at math?
LITA
I had a solid C.
MR. CLEM
Would anyone care to enlighten her with the correct answer to this ridiculously simple equation? Perhaps we should fetch one of the first graders from next door to assist her.
Karis laughs, Lita gives him a dirty look.
KARIS
I’m sorry. What a jerk.
LITA
That wasn’t even the worst of it.
MR. CLEM
Not that you’ll need an education to get by in this world, my sweet. Looking at you now, I can tell you’re going to blossom into quite the attractive young lady.
LITA
I wish I’d been the one to shoot you.
She punches him again. His head turns, then his body falls over, knocking over pieces of the diorama and making a huge racket.
LITA (cont’d)
Was that loud?
KARIS
Father’s probably asleep, maybe he didn’t--
Father enters.
FATHER
Ahem.
KARIS
Oh.
FATHER
Children.
Father examines the mess.
LITA
That was me. I knocked it over.
KARIS
We both did.
FATHER
Oh I hold the both of you responsible. There’s no need to clamor over the blame.
He kicks at the body. He dials a number on his cell phone.
Yes. Library. Disposal. No, no hurry.
He hangs up.
LITA
Father, this man--
FATHER
Both of you to your rooms. If you’ve homework, finish it. Then to bed. I'll deal with you later.
LITA and KARIS
Yes sir.
They both exit to their rooms. The workmen enter and, along with Father, they lift Mr. Clem back up to a standing position. Father examines Mr. Clem’s face, turning his head to one side, then the other, then finally looking him directly in the eye. The workmen roll him out. Father follows them out, turning off the lights as he goes.
Lights rise in Lita’s room. She is sitting on her bed doing homework. She gives up on it and tosses the book aside.
LITA
Karis?
She looks under the bed, but he’s not there.
LITA (cont’d)
To this day, I wish I’d been the one to put the bullet in Mr. Clem’s heart. Seeing him dead and stuffed in my father’s library brought about such a sense of contentment. It occurred to me that life would be so much more fun if all the people that I hated were werewolves. Father’s occupation suddenly made such perfect sense.
She lays down and turns out her light to go to sleep. The stage is dark for a moment. Then the door to her bedroom opens, Father enters, and turns her light back on. He is standing over her bed.
FATHER
You wish you had been the one to put the bullet in that wolf’s heart. Did I hear you correctly?
LITA
Yes sir.
FATHER
The full moon is nine nights from now. I leave in two. Do you wish to come with me?
LITA
Yes sir.
FATHER
You will carry a weapon and you will do as I say and if you wish to do so, you will learn how my work is done. Is that understood?
LITA
Yes sir.
FATHER
Have you any questions? Any at all?
LITA
No sir.
FATHER
Very well. Good night.
He turns off the light and exits.
LITA
Good night, Father.
