Characters:
Eliot, mid-20s Gay male. Preppy.
Ron, mid-20s Gay male. 80s Clubby.
Dorothy, any adult age. Caregiver, unambiguously Lesbian.
Setting:
1983, New Orleans
Props:
A note on the
staging:
The events of this short play take place over several weeks. Each time characters exit the stage, time passes. Quick-changes (a different shirt, bandana, or jacket) help indicate the passage of time. Make the costuming as 80s as possible. |
At lights up,
2 young, Gay friends are walking
to a popular French Quarter bar.
to a popular French Quarter bar.
Their clothes scream 1980s,
preppie (Eliot) and clubby (Ron).
Eliot
Ron, I swear to God, this year for Lent I am totally giving up dick.
Ron
Dick! Ha. Not much of a sacrifice. What’s it been, like 8
months, a year, since you’ve even seen dick? Held it? Smelled it? (*gasp*) Oh my God,
Girl, did your hymen grow back?!
Eliot
Shut up. Whatever is killing Gay guys has something to do
with Gay sex.
Ron
Ok Eliot! Here we go again! President Reagan and Jerry
Falwell are in cohoots to systematically kill off all the fags with some un-named,
mystery plague. Right?
Eliot
You’ve seen the flyers. We saw one just a couple nights ago, outside
the Golden Lantern. "Gay Plague Infects New Orleans."
Ron
That flyer was handwritten! Hardly a missive from the
Board of Health. Some amateur, home-made bullshit. I can still smell the
mimeograph chemicals! I love mimeograph chemicals. Gets me high.
Eliot
Fine. Don't take death seriously, Ron. While more and more of
us drop like flies.
Ron
Oh Eliot, you dear, dear worry-wart, can we puh-lease lighten
up the conversation and get to Bourbon Pub already? Hunky Alex is dancing tonight. I heard last week he danced totally naked on the bar and a Saudi Arabian
prince ate his ass.
(Eliot exits singing)
Eliot
(singing from Disney’s
Cinderella) Some day, my prince will come...
Ron
That’s more like it. Give up dick for Lent! Sister please.
(Ron exits.)
(When they return, their outfits are different enough
to denote that 2 weeks have passed.)
Eliot
Jon Robichaux, Carl Espinoza, Alex Ransom...
Ron
Hunky Alex! What the fuck!?
Eliot
I told you. Drop. Like. Flies.
Ron
Not two weeks back, we just saw Alex dancing at the Pub! How
can that happen to someone so beautiful? So fast?
Eliot
Freddie Guess is Alex's best friend.
Ron
Was.
Eliot
Uh, right. Freddie told me that Alex lost all this weight all
of a sudden, from non-stop diarrhea.
Ron
I have to sit down. (Collapses
on floor.)
Eliot
Then Alex collapsed at Freddie's studio. They rushed him to
the ER at Charity Hospital. Some kind of pneumonia. Within 2 days...
Ron
Alex Ransom was a Greek God! Eliot, what the fuck is
happening to us?
Eliot
I don't know. Maybe there is some kind of right-wing
conspiracy. Something definitely is killing Gay guys. Fast. So fast! Hey,
didn't you and Alex Ransom...?
(Ron stands and exits without answering.
(Eliot follows.)
(Dorothy enters speaking.)
Dorothy
Oh, I’ve heard all the rumors. It’s a mutated form of cat
leukemia. It comes from fucking monkeys. And my personal favorite: It’s a government conspiracy to use biological
weapons against the Gays first, then anyone else the right-wing deems “unsavory”.
(Eliot enters.
His clothes indicate time
has passed, a few more weeks.
He carries a backpack.)
Eliot
But what is it?
Dorothy
The French named it AIDS. Acquired Immumo-deficiency
Syndrome. Actually, they have a French word for that. SIDA or SILA? Something
Frenchy. But in American it’s AIDS. Basically, that means the body’s natural
immunity is deficient, weakened. Our defenses are down. A patient with AIDS
can't fight off infection that a healthy person ordinarily could. A common cold
can be a death sentence.
Eliot
AIDS killed Rock Hudson?
Dorothy
Technically, Rock Hudson died of ARC. AIDS-related
complications. AIDS suppressed his immunity, but Rock Hudson died of
pneumocystis pneumonia.
Eliot
Shit. How's he doing today?
(Ron enters slowly, walking with a
cane.
He wears an over-sized sport coat with sleeves
rolled up to his elbows, which makes him look gaunt.
rolled up to his elbows, which makes him look gaunt.
On his forehead is a large, black kaposi sarcoma ~
cancer.)
Ron
How’s my Mardi Gras costume coming together? I'm going as the
Grim Reaper and Rock Hudson’s butt baby.
Dorothy
(to Ron) Oh yay. More gallows humor.
(to Eliot) My money’s on government conspiracy.
(to Eliot) My money’s on government conspiracy.
Ron
Don’t worry, Darling. Butt babies never live. And look (indicating his forehead), I already got
my mark for Ash Wednesday. No need to go to Mass. Thank Gawd!
Eliot
Hey Buddy. Glad to see you walking around.
Ron
Isn't AIDS the name of a diet candy? Caramel cubes laced with
speed?
Dorothy
Yeah, they might want to reconsider their brand.
Ron
Either way, you're sure to lose weight.
Eliot
Do you need anything from the store? Any errands?
Ron
Dorothy dearest, can you help me back to bed? I feel the need
to lie down. Let me know if I have any visitors.
(Dorothy helps Ron exit, looking back apologetically
to the stunned Eliot.
(Turning his back to the audience,
Eliot opens the backpack.
From inside, he puts on a black overcoat,
rubs gray ash
on his forehead,
and then opens a black umbrella, ready to visit a grave.
When he turns back to the audience,
Dorothy re-enters,
protecting herself from the rain with a shawl.
Dorothy re-enters,
protecting herself from the rain with a shawl.
She wears warm, outdoor clothes
(but not black. Her color palate is optimistic.)
(but not black. Her color palate is optimistic.)
She slips her arm into Eliot's
and they share the umbrella.)
Dorothy
Didn’t know you were Catholic.
Eliot
Haven’t been to Mass since my Confirmation. But once a
Catholic, always Catholic. It’s like a scar.
Dorothy
I hope you found comfort.
Eliot
Yesterday I couldn’t do Mardi Gras at all. The craziness, the
revelry. It’s been two weeks since Ron’s funeral, but I still just can’t. I closed
my curtains and stayed in the dark. But this morning, I woke up antsy, restless,
like I want to scream. I totally needed to be around other people. But like, serious-minded
people, singing hymns about noble things.
Dorothy
I get it. Then after Mass, it made sense to visit him again?
Eliot
It’s odd they call this a grave. Who buries ashes then puts a
marker on the spot?
Dorothy
People need somewhere to grieve. A place to go and reflect. Since
funeral homes in New Orleans refuse to accept “ AIDS bodies”, that leaves the
cremation folks, the Neptune Society.
Eliot
I don't understand why Ron shut me out, Dorothy! He wouldn't
talk to me, look at me, acknowledge my presence! Why was he angry at me?
Dorothy
I'm sorry, Eliot. Yes, Ron was angry. At the world. At me sometimes.
At you. But deep down, you know he was mad at death. Everyone confronts death
in a different way.
Eliot
He left me before he left me!
Dorothy
He was terrified.
Eliot
At least you were with him…in the final moments. Thank you. Seems
like all the dykes are taking care of sick Gay boys. You’re the only ones who
will touch us.
Dorothy
Jill, my wife—Over there. We’re visiting another fella she
was caring for—together we’ve been caregivers to 9 guys, so far.
Eliot
His own bitch mother wouldn't even visit him in the hospital.
At the funeral, I couldn't look at her, or I would scratch her face.
Dorothy
There's a lot of fear around AIDS, and a lot of mystery. I
mean, we don't even know what causes it.
Eliot
Sex is killing us! At least, the Gay kind. At Mass, I vowed
to give up sex for Lent. Easiest decision of my life. I haven’t had any kind of
sex in a year. Ron made fun of me, but I'm scared if I have sex, I'll die too!
Death chases after folly!
Dorothy
It’s not folly to enjoy sex. It’s not folly to feel and express
love. But protecting yourself, yeah, I think that’s a good idea right now. Until
we know better what’s going on.
Eliot
So many. So fast.
Dorothy
While our glorious President won't even say the word AIDS.
40,000 deaths, and Reagan sits back in his Oval Office ignoring our cries for
help. Because Gays dying is convenient to his political agenda. Fuck Reagan!
Fuck. Reagan.
Eliot
I just want it to stop. I wish it all wasn't happening!
Dorothy
I know, Honey. I wish it wasn’t happening too. But now is not
the time to bury our heads in the sand or pretend—along with the Leader of the Free
World—that AIDS is not happening. If Reagan won't say the word AIDS, we have to
scream it. Until we know how it’s caused. AIDS! How it spreads. AIDS!
(Eliot looks around,
nervous other mourners will overhear.)
nervous other mourners will overhear.)
Dorothy
Until we cure it, and untold lives are saved. Until then, Eliot,
silence equals death.
(The word "death" wounds Eliot.
Dorothy takes the umbrella and protects them both.)
Lights fade to zero.
The End
