cathedral for a while

Characters:
KAY
KURT

Note: Titles (in all capitals) indicate the scenes available for performance; any combination and any order can be used. Four or more sets of actors and/or readers is suggested but not necessary, one actor to play Kay and Kurt in each scene. The same actors can certainly be cast in several (or all) scenes. The actors wait either on stage or in the wings until chosen in some fashion and then perform their scene as rehearsed. The set remains the same for most, and must be able to accommodate any scene in any order.

BEGINNING

(KURT stands in front of the audience, he is dressed well and speaks slowly. He sings a soft song.)

KURT (Imitating the sounds made by guitars and drums. Pianos and chimes. He is not a good singer.)

I let snow fall on frozen yesterdays!

I’ve earned today.

I’ve earned today.

And we make love beside the waterway.

I burn today. I burn today.

Yesterday I will burn for the times I did not learn.

Behold the rose of Jericho.

How many lines I do not know

Today I burn

Today I burn.

(Lights up to reveal KAY)

KAY
Do you know what the serenity prayer is?

KURT (continues to sing)
Say do you know who do you think you’re fooling? I’m a consecrated boy.

KAY
Let me teach it to you. It’s hard to remember at first. It is worth knowing. Listen!
God.

KURT
You lost me already.

KAY
Your momma loves you

KURT
She rocked me like the rock of ages. She loved me. Loved me loved.

KAY
I’m not a devil calling your name. Dear God, give me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change.

KURT
Kay.

(They stop. At this point the designated members select the next scene. They choose from the remaining titles.)
(Read on …)

I entered the sun room where he sat on the white sofa, hands politely folded, his black marble eyes fixed on me. I moved to the leather armchair across the table and sat. He ogled me. It was uncomfortable.

“Donny,” I said – that’s what he called himself, Donny – “Let me start off by saying that you are an exceptional, and I don’t use that word lightly, you are an exceptional actor.”

I paused for effect then I forced a smile and nodded appreciatively. Donny’s eyes did not change. They registered no inflection. I wondered if there were any gears of any kind ticking behind his avalanched brow.

“Our agency has reviewed your portfolio. Your experience is…” My eyes drifted to the manila file folder in my hands; it was worn and felt like flannel, and it looked like it had been chewed on. The pages were torn and the ink smudged. Whoever took his head shot made no attempt to mask the tenuous, dough-like flesh of Donny’s face.

“Your experience is…” I wanted to be polite. “What we’re looking for is an actor with a comprehensive portfolio.”

The bulk of Donny’s career consisted of theatrical renditions of “Frankenstein,” which required neither speaking lines nor sudden movement. Recently he had been reduced to Geico commercials. Outside of that he’d done a few bit TV parts, and ballet.

That last bit conjured disturbing imagery. Ballet? God, an eight and a half foot green man, flesh barely clinging to his bones, body frame like a chimney, undulating to the music of Stravinsky and wearing a tutu? Children would have nightmares for the rest of their lives. (Read on …)

Davis woke suddenly from a very deep sleep. This was less than comfortable. His eyes would not, did not focus, and his thoughts were still dozing, lethargic and lost in the jumble. What had awakened him? Something sharp and metallic. Jabbed right into the soft part of his left foot. There was no sign of it now.

He rose from bed, walked unsteadily across the room to his miniature bathroom. “Walked” was perhaps giving him too much credit – he stumbled, cursed, stumbled again, and stepped on something that irreparably broke.

He splashed water on his face, cold water. As cold as his faucets would allow, which meant somewhere just below lukewarm. It seemed to help, at least a little bit. He could focus his eyes now. He no longer saw his apartment as a colorful field of fuzzy jumbles. The jumbles rearranged themselves into his fairly depressing collection of earthly possessions.

He toweled himself off and heard, faintly, the sound of clinking glass in the kitchen. A voice called out: “Coffee’s ready.”

Davis stepped into the hallway and walked towards his undersized kitchen. A full pot of coffee steamed on the burbling automatic coffeemaker. Just to the right of that on the counter, at about chest level, was a man’s face.

Or, to be more specific, a man’s head.

Where the man’s neck logically should have continued down into his body, there was a small metal platform that sprouted spider-like metallic legs. They clicked softly on the kitchen counter as the head skittered from side to side.

This was Gantry. He said: “I would have poured you a cup, but these things’re worthless for gripping,” and gestured meaningfully with two spider-legs. (Read on …)