Tony - Chimerical

I change my mind a lot. I usually don't agree with what I say very much. I'm an awful liar. – David Bowie

Snow – A Scene

Dramatis personæ

 

Spirit — A spirit that has encountered Snow in the Wake. A somber, almost dark character who floats around without moving his head, keeping his gaze fixed on Snow. He is garbed in ethereal robes and drapes, and his skin is pale. His eyes glow pink.

 

Snow — A strange, bipedal creature who wears the antlers of a stag as a crown. His body is lanky, yet he covers his spindly limbs with wrapped bundles of cloth and scraps that he has found. He is curious, almost childlike.

 

Scene

 

In a world called the Wake, Snow is trekking through a dense patch of forest. There are multiple bluffs and rock outcrops around, forming raised pathways and bridges. It is night, yet the canopy of tree branches above hide the sky. Piled around in random spots are mounds of bones, each with a skull atop it, almost like grave markers.

 

Scene 1 – Forest

 

[Enter Snow. (Lugging a skeleton over the bluff)]

 

(Snow carries the skeleton over, then moves downstage to center, dropping it there. He collapses beside it, now seated, staring down into its eyeless sockets. The bells on his bindle rattle violently.)

 

Snow. (Concerned) You are supposed to speak, you know; that is why I killed you… all of you. I did not waste seven years for you to sit there in silence.

 

(The skeleton moves and Snow sits up, but then it grows still. He slumps back down again.)

 

Snow. Maybe your bones are incorrect, from the wrong people. Perhaps I pulled the wrong bones from the wrong places. (Beat) Are you going to speak to me, or not? If there is something wrong, I must know it, for if there is, I must waste no time gathering more bones.

 

(Silence.)

 

Snow. (Frustrated.) My God.

 

(He reaches down, taking an arm, then he tosses it away, watching it sail through the air. Next, he takes the leg, then the other arm, until all that remains is the head. He looks down at this, but does not reach down to pick it up. It is staring at him; he stares back.)

 

Snow. Shall I name you? What would it be—your name, of course—If I were to give you one? You are small and… insignificant, little more than a head; that would mean I am obligated to name you justly, to call you something befit for your stature.

 

(No response from the head.)

 

Snow. (Thinking.) Small… small… what names are small? There is… no, not that one… perhaps… Head!

 

(He sits up, elated, as if impressed with his own intelligence.)

 

Snow. Head… yes, what a name; ‘tis one for you. Do you like that name, Head? If not, I… no, that is your name, and that is what you will be called.

 

(The head has no preference.)

 

Snow. Good, then, just splendid. Now… will you speak to me?

 

(Sustained silence as Snow leans in expectantly, then a distant crowing sounds. Snow grins.)

 

Snow. I do not speak that tongue, try another.

 

[Enter Spirit. (Floating around upstage)]

 

(The Spirit drifts up to the highest level of the bluff, then remains there, staring down at Snow. Snow is unaware of his visitor.)

 

Snow. Perhaps you speak only one tongue, my apologies. If you were to speak again, I might understand.

 

(Sustained silence.)

 

Spirit. (Deadpan) Seven times, it has rained here. Naught has touched the earth, for the trees drink it from the sky.

 

(Snow frowns, then realizes that it is not the skull speaking to him. He turns to find who is, and spots the spirit atop its bluff.)

 

Spirit. (Cont.) You speak to bones… do they listen?

 

Snow. (Confused) I hope so.

 

Spirit. And if they do not?

 

Snow. Then the bones are wrong, and I would have to find more. It took me seven years to collect these ones, yet they are silent, still as death… who are you?

 

(Spirit drifts downstage.)

 

Spirit. I am a spirit; I walk here in the Wake.

 

(Spirit stops to peer down at the skull and at Snow, who remains seated.)

 

Snow. And what do you search for? Do you wander aimlessly, or do you search?

 

Spirit. I search… for wanderers.

 

(Spirit drifts away upstage. It begins to collect the bones that Snow has thrown away, gathering them within its robes.)

 

Snow. These bones came from wanderers… I search for wanderers also, yet they run from me. Do they run from you?

 

Spirit. Often.

 

Snow. And what do you do when you catch them? Do you take their bones as I do?

 

Spirit. Never.

 

Snow. Then what do you do?

 

Spirit. I do not chase them; I let them flee.

 

(Now that all bones are collected, the spirit approaches the skull, stopping before it and staring down at it.)

 

Snow. But they escape.

 

Spirit. They will be taken soon enough; the forest will swallow them, then it will consume them.

 

(Snow notices that the spirit is looking at the skull.)

 

Snow. (Irritated) He was living once, yet I killed him myself.

 

(Snow picks up the skull, cradling it.)

 

Snow. (Cont.) I did not let him run.

 

(The spirit drifts away, back upstage. It begins to pile bones into a mound, then it hovers around them in circles.)

 

Snow. (Cont.) I bring them here, so that I can build anew a conglomeration; I have to build a friend for myself. These woods are lonely, you see… but I found you… so maybe I do not need the conglomeration.

 

(Spirit is silent. It continues to circle the mound. Snow turns around to see what it is doing and watches for a moment before frowning.)

 

Snow. (Cont.) What are you doing to those?

 

Spirit. Waiting.

 

Snow. Waiting? For what? Are you expecting another?

 

Spirit. I wait for you.

 

Snow. For me? But I am doing nothing, not one thing.

 

Spirit. Precisely.

 

Snow. Then… you wait for me to do something; what is it that I should do?

 

Spirit. I require the skull, for the pile is incomplete without it. I wait for you to give it to me.

 

(Snow clutches the skull tighter. The spirit stops its pacing.)

 

Snow. It is mine; I named him, so he is mine.

 

(Spirit begins to float around the stage; whenever he passes Snow, the creature clutches his skull tighter, leaning away.)

 

Spirit. Seven times, it rained. Do you speak to bones?

 

Snow. You asked me that.

 

Spirit. Then answer it again.

 

Snow. (Irritated) I do not need to speak to you. You are not a friend; you want to take my friend away.

 

Spirit. Sunlight has shone here only twice… the trees drink it just as they drink the rain. There is one thing that they can not drink, not so long as it remains as it is; they try, yet they fail.

 

Snow. What is it?

 

(Spirit stops moving. He stares at Snow.)

 

Spirit. If you give me the skull, I shall tell you.

 

Snow. I will not.

 

(The spirit drifts again. It moves to one of the other piles of bones, peering down at it, then it moves to the next, then the next. Snow sits in silence, rubbing the skull with his fingers. He sits up suddenly, as if realizing something.)

 

Snow. Are you the Rainmaker?

 

Spirit. Perhaps.

 

Snow. But you make more than rain… so what would you be if you made sunshine?

 

Spirit. Not the Rainmaker.

 

Snow. (Confused) Are you trying to make rain now?

 

Spirit. Hardly.

 

Snow. What, then? Sunlight?

 

Spirit. It is winter; have you not felt the chill?

 

(After finding nothing, the Spirit ceasing his searching through the bone piles. He drifts back downstage to peer at Snow.)

 

Spirit. (Cont.) Will you give me the skull?

 

Snow. I will not.

 

Spirit. Time is short, the cold draws closer, enveloping the trees; can you hear them screaming?

 

Snow. I can not.

 

Spirit. Then you will.

 

(The spirit reaches into its robes and produces a staff. Spotlight on the mound and Spirit; Snow is in darkness now. The staff is thrust downward into the center of the pile of bones, then the lights cut out.)

 

[Exit Snow.]

 

Spirit. (Hidden under darkness) Seven times it rained here; the trees drank it from the sky. Thrice, the pale flakes from heaven drifted down instead, speaking in whispers to the forest.

 

(Little sparkles of light begin to float down over the stage, imitating snow.)

 

Spirit. (Cont.) Four times… (Long pause) Rain visits me often, yet his bones are often malformed; they do not function as intended. Each new morn, I find who waits for me in the clearing; they are ignorant to their task, born from their predecessors, like children who know not how to walk.

 

(Lights come on again, yet slightly darker than before. Snow is missing, and the flakes still fall from the sky. Spirit sits atop the highest bluff, gazing down at the pile of bones placed centerstage. A spotlight illuminates them.)

 

Spirit. (Cont.) They learn quickly, then gather what they must; I wait…

 

(Spirit drifts down to the pile of bones, then past it, to where the skull sits, staring out at the audience. He leans down, taking it, then he places it atop the pile.)

 

Spirit. (Cont.) On the morrow, a new one shall appear, be it Rain, Snow, or Sunlight. In the clearing, a new marker shall be built.

 

(He drifts back up the bluff, stopping at the top to stare out at the audience.)

 

Spirit. (Cont.) And now, I sleep.

 

(Lights cut, but snow continues to fall. After a moment, it fades as well.)

 

[Blackout.]

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