(why do they keep calling themselves) arson

by: Ozzy Wagner

 

NARRATOR
ARSON
MOTHER
DANCER IN DRESS/WOMAN
DANCER IN WAISTCOAT/MAN
MOTHERS/SUFFRAGETTES
SUGARPLUM FAIRIES
GHOSTS/ONE THOUSAND BODIES/ALL OF US
ELEPHANT (puppet)

DANCER IN DRESS must not double with MOTHERS.
MOTHER and WOMAN double.
SUGARPLUM FAIRIES, DANCER IN WAISTCOAT, and DANCER IN DRESS should be actual dancers, or movers who’ve spent a lot of time devising. Preferably ballet, or otherwise something that captures some aspect of the ~feminine spirit~

The lights come up on a house and two dancers in silhouette. One wears a waistcoat, the other a dress. Maybe: shadows, other figures to come. We watch them as they dance. It is lovely.
NARRATOR enters, masked.
Eventually, they are interrupted by a figure who rises from the audience.

ARSON

Why are you all upside down?

DANCERS continue, but dance away – into the house.
ARSON approaches the stage.

NARRATOR

Womanhood used to feel like a haunted house.

ARSON

Excuse me?

NARRATOR

But I was haunted, too,
so I thought I was supposed to live there.

Some distant sound. A scream?

I thought we had to befriend the ghosts.
That none of us spoke their language.

ARSON has reached the stage.

ARSON

Excuse me – why are all of you upside down?

NARRATOR

…but so the around afraid in hear loud maybe we and myself was;

ARSON

???

NARRATOR

not, they and describe snapping like house
And of befriend live of;

ARSON

W-?

NARRATOR

the rooms
Womanhood to use
Familiar hide

ARSON

“Hide”

NARRATOR

Can thought smallness them-

ARSON

/”Small”

NARRATOR

-if and the we construction; fire

ARSON

Fire

NARRATOR

Fire
–
feel words like that is smallness the on your specificity to aren’t House-

ARSON covers their ears.

ARSON

SHHHH-

NARRATOR

La

ARSON

La
lalalalalala-

ARSON & NARRATOR

Lalalalalalalalalalalalalalala-

NARRATOR nods, removes mask, hands it to ARSON, and exits.
One long scream from the attic. ARSON is startled. The scream does not stop.

ARSON

Loud

Darkness.
A beat, then: silhouettes: the Pain Ballet. This one is different. ARSON watches with us.
Two figures in silhouette: dancing, then fighting, then dancing, then fighting…

NARRATOR (old cartoon or sports announcer voice–dealers choice)

Mmmmmonsterrrrr!!
Can and womanhood how fear construction.
Discovering the the other bed!!!

…then DANCER IN WAISTCOAT takes DANCER IN DRESS
by the hair! In a dramatic “apotheosis”:

DANCER IN DRESS

I don’t understand!!!

ARSON stands.
A SHADOW PUPPET zooms in to save DANCER IN DRESS.
SHADOW PUPPET notices ARSON, and pauses to *also* put on a dress.
SHADOW PUPPET boxes with DANCER IN WAISTCOAT. ARSON tilts their head.
DANCER IN DRESS begins to box with DANCER IN WAISTCOAT too.
DANCER IN DRESS pulls a gun out of a holster.
DANCER IN WAISTCOAT has a gun too!!
A good old fashioned western standoff. ARSON walks towards the curtain separating them and the silhouettes.

ARSON

Construction…?
I…

The curtain drops.
DANCER and WAISTCOAT are gone.
Behind the puppet theater are ONE THOUSAND BODIES. They are loud.

ONE THOUSAND BODIES

SHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

The curtain catches fire.

ARSON

LOUD!
LALALALALALALALA

ONE THOUSAND BODIES

LALALALALALALALA!

ARSON takes hands from their ears as the bodies become a protest – more ambiguous figures with sashes and no faces.
Picket signs from either side of the stage, “Votes for Women,” and
“No Votes for Women.” A jumble of words.
ARSON joins Votes For Women.

ARSON

Loud! Loud! Loud!
Friend! Fire!

ARSON notices another sign, which might say something like
“What about us???” – ARSON starts to wave hello.
The “Votes For Women” crowd becomes a thousand MOTHERS in white masks, encircling ARSON. They usher them into a chair and begin fawning, combing hair.
ARSON keeps pushing them away, until they don’t anymore.
MOTHER puts the mask on ARSON.
The lights and color drain like water in a sink.

ONE THOUSAND BODIES

Ghost attics
by thought you we a haunted so us when the of feelings the familiar
like of hear children used hushing vows when because
la-la-la-ing without weekends
Monster me

ARSON

Why can’t I understand them?

ONE THOUSAND BODIES

Beautiful
to live;
The that must womanhood are we screaming
my see maybe love oh by many that feelings
In but attics still to voice. Tchotchkies – houses
Lived of monster but go of too from the of survive;

ARSON

Why can’t I understand them?

ONE THOUSAND BODIES (a chant)

Ghost attics ghost attics ghost attics ghost attics ghost attics

MOTHER begins painting ARSON’s new face.
White powder. Red cheeks. Red nose. Frowny mouth.
The mothers laugh and laugh, until ARSON runs away.
The mothers are swept away and projections of dark trees–nighttime–fill the stage. Quiet.
ARSON is cold. ARSON holds a cardboard sign.
DANCER IN DRESS and MOTHER appear.
They sit across a table from one another, or in living room chairs.
The lights are dim, the tea is cold,
and we are midway through a loaded silence.
There’s an elephant behind them. It does elephant things.
ARSON lights a match.

WOMAN

So,
you heard–

MOTHER

I don’t know what I’ve heard.

WOMAN

You have, then.

MOTHER

Well.

Beat. ARSON’s match goes out.
They light another.

WOMAN

It gets easier to understand.

MOTHER

What is it, exactly? That she’s trying to do?

WOMAN

s-
they said it’s like…
a separation.

MOTHER

A separation.

WOMAN’s face holds the world for a moment.

MOTHER

That doesn’t make any sense.

WOMAN

They-

MOTHER

And the name. It’s so….Aggressive.
strange.

WOMAN

it seems like
it’s more about,,
Being seen. Feeling…

MOTHER

Yes.

Another match. The elephant trumpets. It’s more ghost-like than animal.

MOTHER

Seeing [read: attention] seems to be the point.

MOTHER gets up to get more tea. Silence, for a while.
When she returns–

MOTHER

What makes her hate us?

WOMAN

Oh-
it doesn’t seem like that –

Another match. Another trumpet.

MOTHER

How can you say that?

WOMAN

Like,, / love, even –

MOTHER

She’s separating.
From us.

WOMAN

I know,
but…

WOMAN falters. ARSON runs out of matches. They are very cold.

MOTHER

Why??
Because she hates being us…[— wants to be a man?? To…have what they have…]

WOMAN

I don’t think so.

MOTHER

Then what??
We can see. We can see who she is.
this doesn’t make any sense.]

ARSON & ELEPHANT

Lie & knows the ourselves too hearing think house upside discovering we hushing truths
Words and flowers.
There was eat larger you.
Screams escape tried summers told divorce used the thought.
How dancer myself like chocolate the fire children;
thousand your house arson I, Mother.
Arson,
Arson, Mother.

MOTHER looks to WOMAN.

MOTHER

See what I mean??

MOTHER and WOMAN disappear.
The ELEPHANT goes to ARSON as they fall asleep on the curb.
We watch.
This should take a long time.
We should be uncomfortable with how long we must watch
them on the curb in the cold.
Then, ARSON starts laughing. Rises with the laughter.
(This should also be uncomfortable.)
The ELEPHANT cocks its elephant head.

ARSON

Nothing
It’s just –
If pain is our duty,
I must be a woman, after all

Beat.

Funny. I didn’t know I could speak
anymore.
–
Funny.
Fun-ny.
Funny bunny.
Matches.
Fun-ny bun-ny mat-ches
Fire. Fi-re.
Fun-ny bun-ny fi-re.
–
–
–
I want to go home.

Things change, again. Another dance.

Things change, again. Another dance.

WAISTCOAT and DANCER are again our stars.

NARRATOR

Let that send–
Body think.
Words the wedding voice pain,
Why houses hide

ARSON still cannot understand. They try something–
They rise, replicating WOMAN’s steps.
They replicate the hair pull from before.

ARSON

“I don’t understand.”

Sounds, in the distance. Screams?

NARRATOR

lived voices must to know in;
Spare myself in and against tangibility be
of old smallness on bigness and-!!

ARSON

“I DON’T UNDERSTAND”

WAISTCOAT begins to dance with ARSON, into the House.
But NARRATOR continues.
Suddenly, ARSON screams. WAISTCOAT lets go.
DANCER IN DRESS reenters, now.
Her dress is different. It’s elegant, with layers of colorful tulle.
She might wear a mask, but it is new, and not like the others’.
The music changes. She dances – a solo.
It is beautiful.
ARSON watches DANCER.
After a while more women join her. Ideally, this is a full-choreographed Ballet number A La Dance of the Sugarplum Fairies. Maybe it is Dance of the Sugarplum Fairies. (I’m talking a whole number, here.)

ARSON

(to DANCER)

Excuse me?

DANCER

?

ARSON

“I don’t understand.”
…
“I don’t understand?”

DANCER

…That’s alright.

ARSON

No, I mean.
I’m trying to do what I’m supposed to do??

DANCER

You’re not supposed to do anything.

ARSON

Oh.

DANCER

Are you alright?

ARSON

…I don’t understand.

DANCER

Oh.
That’s okay.

ARSON

I don’t know who you are supposed to be.

DANCER

I am myself.
I am a dancer.

ARSON

You’re not my future?

DANCER

Am I?

ARSON

I think I might be upside down.

DANCER

Really? It doesn’t look like it.

ARSON

Exactly …!
Exactly exactly
–!!!

DANCER

Hey-

ARSON

I feel upside down but I look rightside up
Or maybe – when I feel like myself I look upside down

DANCER

Like…?

ARSON

Like
even when I’m alone in my house it’s like it’s like
Gravity is watching me
I can’t escape the feeling that if I ever let myself be myself….
I won’t recognize them
They could be anything

do you feel that way?

DANCER

can’t say I do.

ARSON

I knew it
I knew it

DANCER

Did I do something?

ARSON

No,
but you… You look like it
I mean you look rightside up
I mean
You look like you live in a house that feels like a house and you don’t have to glue your feet to the floor like it has A/C and good bones and words for everything inside it
and it’s not just
ASDHGIRORGJ$EBOLNEROGJBORLALEOBRHJOJGO
And you can live in it and it doesn’t try to kill you

DANCER

…Does yours?

ARSON

…

DANCER

The house…the bones are wrong.

ARSON

No
Not wrong to me
Unless… can you see them???

DANCER

…Seeing and feeling can both be true.

ARSON

…really?
Then I feel
Then I feel like
I feel like

ARSON spontaneously combusts.
The dance continues – ARSON is enveloped.
The elephant enters and begins to dance, too.
Some conclusion to the dance, eventually,
that does not feel epic but instead natural, even nostalgic – something like
a growing up, a growing out-of…
and Arson is reborn. It is silent.
Arson wears a waistcoat. Hair looks slick.
They look at their hands.
They practice swallowing.
Arson sits in the normality of the moment, for a while.

ARSON

(speaking easily, for the first time.)

I never imagined this part
I guess I assumed I’d die

Then, MOTHER enters. She sees ARSON.

MOTHER

Oh.
Hello.

ARSON

…Hello.

MOTHER

Where’s your face?

ARSON

–
Can I come home?

MOTHER

–
Dance, please.

ARSON

Oh.

MOTHER

Dance.

ARSON

I’m not a dancer.

MOTHER

Dance.

ARSON

I’m not a dancer.
I’ve never been a dancer.

MOTHER grabs ARSON by the hair.
She begins to tie strings to ARSON’s limbs.
ARSON lifts into [dramatic ballet position]

MOTHER

Yes.
Thank you.

Then, something cosmic shifts.
The ground shakes.
Sound – mechanical? Human? Screaming?
It does not stop.
Chaos, words? We cannot understand.
Eventually, it morphs. ARSON breaks away from MOTHER, who screams.
The room dazzles with color.

ONE THOUSAND BODIES & THE ELEPHANT

I AM REAL
CAN’T YOU HEAR ME
I AM REAL
CAN’T YOU HEAR ME
I AM REAL
CAN’T YOU HEAR ME

ARSON

I can hear you
Yes
And so are we

ARSON is lifted into the air, upside down.
The silhouettes of NARRATOR and DANCER
stand in the house together.
As the screaming and chaos and lifting continue–

NARRATOR

I used to think Womanhood was a house.
This house, of course, is haunted, so I thought I was supposed to live there.
We are women, I thought, so we must befriend the ghosts
And this is how we would survive,
Hushing the fear of those larger than us by la-la-la-ing until the screaming stops–

MOTHER

FIRE!

NARRATOR

I sometimes wonder if you are afraid of me
not because of my loud construction
But because when you told the other children you hated dancing they started to eat you
But,
unlike you,
I know what my bones feel like

NARRATOR and DANCER have a moment together.
They separate.
Two houses lower from the sky – upside down.
The sun and moon shine from inside.

ONE THOUSAND BODIES + ARSON + ELEPHANT                                                    MOTHER