We Are Floating in a Perpetual Moccasin, Dancing a Temporary Decorative Lace

by Alisa Rosenthal.

 

 

FANTASY

(to audience)

I see her, I approach her slowly, hiding a tail, not quite sure who or what she could be...

 

MEMORY stands, reminiscing to the audience. FANTASY sneaks up behind her, questioningly making a sound. She turns to him, and they have a bizarre rhythmic sound exchange.

 

FANTASY

Za?

 

MEMORY

Mmm.

 

FANTASY

Aaaaa reeezo?

 

MEMORY

Thhhhhhp.

 

FANTASY

Choo choo choo choo!

 

MEMORY

Ch-oo ch-oo ch-oo ch-oo, tzoo tzoo tzoo tzoo.

 

FANTASY

You're pretty good. What's your gig?

 

MEMORY

I'm Memory.

 

FANTASY

(becoming a bullfighter)

Oh yeah, I'm Fantasy. Isn't that fantastic? Hah! So is this where all the intangibles hang out or what?

 

MEMORY

They come and go. I like it here. I like to stay and think.

 

FANTASY

Yeah, you would. Memory, huh? That's crazy. Not crazy fun though. No fun, really! (Flies and crashes a plane.) Right?? What if the past is boring? What's the harm in a little embellishment?

 

MEMORY

Hmm... deep down, you know it's not real.

 

FANTASY

Like Lindsay Lohan. Right? Right? (Pause.)

 

MEMORY

Don't follow. (Pause.)

 

FANTASY

Hey, Lazy Jane, there's a great thought I just had that I gotta tell you.

 

MEMORY

Is it important?

 

FANTASY

Uh...yeah.

 

MEMORY

(taking out marker)

Well, matador, better write it down.

 

FANTASY

Ho ho ho ho but wait a second. Aren't you the personification of memory? Aren't you supposed to, I don't know, remember stuff and stuff?

 

MEMORY

I'm not that good.

 

FANTASY

Well, alright. Come here. (She does.) Lift your shirt. (She looks to the audience in disbelief, and lifts her shirt to the belly. He writes "YOU KILLED ME!" on her stomach, MEMORY shaking her head and looking at the audience the entire time, unnoticing. When he finishes, MEMORY distantly walks away, looking out. FANTASY lays down on the ground, propping up a mimed gun in preparation to shoot MEMORY. Just as he's about to...)

 

MEMORY

Hey- (FANTASY quickly puts the gun away, and stands up like nothing happened.) Do you remember the last time you cried?

 

FANTASY

What is this, an internet quiz? God damn I hate that bullshit! (MEMORY gives him a "don't follow" face.) No, no I don't.

 

MEMORY

I do. I did just before you came.

 

FANTASY

You ok?

 

MEMORY

Yeah. I've just got, a lot, you know. A lot of sad memories.

 

FANTASY

See? Who needs you? I don't even think about that crap. Give me a good old sex dream any day.

 

MEMORY

(to audience)

I don't know what he's getting at, and I don't care to find out. I begin to disintegrate...

 

FANTASY

(falling back into a chair in weakness)

No wait!

 

MEMORY

What?

 

FANTASY

You can't leave.

 

MEMORY

Oh?

 

FANTASY

(trying to get her to stay)

No...no...you've got to, you've got to tell me something funny.

 

MEMORY

Ok. Remember that time when Machiavelli-

 

FANTASY

(this hurts him)

No no, something I can hold on to.

 

MEMORY

Hmm. How about Tamagatchis?

 

FANTASY

(thrusting himself to the ground)

No!

 

MEMORY

Oh! The national deficit!

 

FANTASY

(nearing the curtain)

What? No! Well I tell ya if I were president (regaining a bit of strength) there wouldn't be much of one, and and clothes would be optional and coconut would be mandatory!

 

MEMORY

And people leave loved ones and worry how they are. (FANTASY weakens again) And some are allergic to coconut. (Weakens) And clocks were slower and older and full of stories that we couldn't even begin to create (disappears) and were richer and deeper and more human than you'll ever know... (she looks around to discover she's onstage alone. She walks center stage. To audience) I turn to fire, but first- (remembers the message on her belly, lifts her shirt, looks to it, and then the audience. Lights.)