LET MOM — FLY TO THE MOON
A Play in Three Acts · Ilias P. Katsis
CHARACTERS
- BEDLAM
- Professor of Classics. Runs the "Medea Studio," an experimental laboratory of tragedy. Academic, brittle, a little pompous.
- DORIAN
- Young hermaphrodite. Creative-writing curator at the Medea Studio. JETT's child; calls BEDLAM "Dad."
- JETT
- Leading interpreter of Ancient Drama. Sister of BEDLAM, mother of DORIAN.
- VLAD
- National Socialist student of Classical Philology. DORIAN's lover.
- BILL
- Major sponsor from the Homeland.
- MOM
- Mother of BEDLAM and JETT. Hangs upside down over the well for much of Act I.
- CHORUS OF ERINYES
- Filthy robes descending from the ceiling, worked on strings.
- AGENT FIGURES
- Shadow presences. Non-speaking.
- SOLDIERS
- Hands only, in the tunnel. Non-speaking.
- THE IMPERIAL EAGLE
- A taxidermied eagle on BEDLAM's desk. Often addressed. Never answers.
PLACE
An abandoned ceramic workshop hall beneath the remaining rubble of the half-collapsed Berlin Wall. It houses the Medea Studio — a hybrid laboratory for the director's experiential investigation of unknown aspects of the young life of Princess DORIAN of Corinth.
THE SET
- Stage right: a long table-desk with an old tape recorder, a lamp and stacks of folders. Behind it, a door marked "OFFICE."
- Downstage right, near the orchestra: a pallet of boxes serving as a lectern.
- Center upstage: a door with a large, grimy glass panel.
- Left of that door: a garage door that leads god-knows-where. In front of it, the rear half of a scrapped school bus.
- The bus half-covers a Corinthian-style well, where the factory once dumped its sewage. Apart from its main function as a toilet, the well represents the spring into which DORIAN leapt to extinguish the flames. There MOM hangs upside down by her left foot.
- Near the bus: a dim, unstable phone booth marked "AGENTS."
- Above: skylights that flash with arson and police lights. A milky wash.
TIME
ACT I: 11:10 p.m. ET, Thursday, January 25, 2024
ACT II: 12:54 a.m., the same night, approaching the Wolf Moon's full illumination
Content advisory: For mature audiences. Contains on-stage killing (strangulation, a bayonet stabbing), gunshots, nudity, sexual content, incest and child-abuse themes, Nazi symbolism, vomiting and strong language.
ACT I
TIME: 11:10 p.m. ET, Thursday, January 25, 2024
ACT I — SCENE 1
(BEDLAM drinks thick fuming liquid; overflow sizzles. He fishes a gadfly with toothpick. Foot on desk. Works cloth ERINYES on strings. Canines show. Burp.)
BEDLAM
Play it clean, Ma.
No howling. No pomp.
MOM
(straining up; Erinyes snag her hair)
My miserable life.
Unquenchable Fate.
Curses.
CHORUS (OFF)
Pontic murderess, sellout witch...
MOM
(seeing into underworld of well)
"Quid me vocatis sospitem solam e meis, umbrae meorum?"
Why do you summon me?
CHORUS (OFF)
You butchered your brother for a marriage token.
MOM
Who me? Back off, lunatic.
Bedlam!
What do these ignorant, freshly buried undead want in my hair?
Enough already—dammit.
CHORUS (OFF)
Be glad—he'll impale you.
MOM
Bedlam, what's she say? Who's impaling me?
Centuries I pay, my child. Not Medea, but Cassandra, the young daughter of King Priam of Troy, the only survivor of my family.
CHORUS (OFF)
Medea! You hurled your brother into the bloody Pontus—
like a wounded horse—jettisoned—
(BEDLAM drops strings. Squares to gadfly.)
BEDLAM
(to gadfly)
Still swimming, loser?
(Erinyes fall over MOM's head. BEDLAM flashes open palm. Clears cloths. Swallows gadfly. Track ends.)
BEDLAM (CONT'D)
Glug. Learn, you little creep.
Ma—head down. Kid's coming.
(MOM slides back into well. Outside: motorcycle engine; horn. DORIAN parks hot. BEDLAM howls; fig sign.)
BEDLAM (CONT'D)
DORIAN—inside—move! Your turn.
Kill the engine before the helmet. Jesus.
(DORIAN enters, flushed, hiccupping. JETT watches through grimy glass, signaling "agents" to listen. Rock song leaks in. They sway.)
BEDLAM
That's your entrance.
(She flings bus door. Well shows. She dunks MOM's head by tied foot.)
BEDLAM (CONT'D)
(to winch rhythm; kicks dangling tambourine)
Break it, girl.
(He yo-yos MOM. She spits, croaks curses.)
BEDLAM (CONT'D)
Ma—zip it. Pull up your panties. Good. Keep.
Say, I dove into the wash lines—lifted a pair of harem pants—
silk—shine—put them on.
Here. Pure silk. Don’t forget that.
(“L.A. Woman” scratches out. They sway.)
DORIAN
(swaying)
Here they are. Pure silk.
Come on now. Before they knock down a Wall.
Time’s up.
While they still got pumped-up soldiers over there.
DORIAN (CONT'D)
(mocking)
Your streets. Filthy.
I shot through like a silver bullet.
Hair on fire. Bins burning outside.
Shame on her. Old woman.
We don't wear any. We're Selinoi.
BEDLAM
(slams binder; restarts recorder)
Silēnoi. Dionysus's boys.
You hear me? Silēnoi!
From top.
Recording.
DORIAN
(flirty)
I'll say it all for you, Bedlam. Right?
I'm sick.
That old woman—my granny, Medea—threw to pigs—
(points at BEDLAM)
him, my dad, and his sister—my mom—in a sack.
Tossed her kids—two siblings—like Medea—to be pig-feed—
So she could bar-hop childless.
BEDLAM
(slaps binder)
Bullshit.
We said—punish her husband.
DORIAN
Because he cheated.
Right. Remember now.
That's why we drown the wicked Medea—plootch, plootch—
in the well. Teach her not to toss kids to pigs for reasons thin as smoke.
BEDLAM
To punish my father—Thanasis. Sea captain.
Recording.
DORIAN
The sack split. Two babies out.
Headmistress melts—cleans them, feeds them, keeps them.
For her personal use. Plus the rest.
BEDLAM
(dreamy; then corrects)
What you remember. Madness. Nights. Depravity.
War. Occupation. You know.
(Splash. MOM jolts in well.)
DORIAN
What's with her?
BEDLAM
She dove. Rocks.
(claps; presses RECORD)
Onward.
Turn the page.
After "we entered a charitable institution..." Go.
Tape's rolling. Finish.
DORIAN
(aside to well)
Granny, I'm going round back—get laid—
couple manly boys—be right back.
Don't move.
BEDLAM
(stern)
Anything else on your schedule?
DORIAN
(pops back)
I'll do Chorus too.
I took ballet.
BEDLAM
(mock-academic)
Fall. Song. Ballet. Maiden. Father. Lover. No matter.
Argos. Hollywood. Corinth. Hell. Berlin. One smoke apart.
Toss your hair when you say our "supposèds."
DORIAN
(hauls MOM up; lays her down, half-fainted)
I'll sit with Grandma. It's a play, Grandma.
We say it. We tape it. Anything. No thinking.
Tonight, I'll listen. Write it.
Then Dad stages it. Pontus.
BEDLAM
I'll serve Pontic sturgeon caviar.
DORIAN
We got a basement in Pontus.
Bomb-proof.
But later. Next month. February.
He thinks I'm with Mom.
I slide in pages by Oedipus—Mom's boyfriend—
our sponsor—he whines.
(MOM knocks head.)
BEDLAM
And?
(VLAD bursts in from behind bus. Headphones pocketed. Boots loud. Flips off DORIAN. Scans the room.)
VLAD
What did you say, dimwit?
He'll talk you into suspecting your mom sleeps with her son.
BEDLAM
(teasing)
And you'd know—
VLAD
She's not Jett, slanderer. Not with Bill.
You hate her 'cause she excels.
BEDLAM
(to VLAD)
Same brains as me? Fool.
(to eagle)
Dorian asks to ditch "Medea" in favor of "Gray Jocasta."
She's not nobody. She's got her bit of a penis. Wants to outflank me.
No. Roles are fixed. Who plays Laius? Me?
DORIAN
(pounds head; runs to glass)
I blew it. Mom!
The Wall. Chaos.
Hallucination.
Teacher crams in Wall, well, blood, goat romance—
else the audience won't credit the conceit.
Won't watch common mortals. He says.
(BEDLAM strokes her; VLAD glares)
What else to weave on—no kings,
Nibelungen, cows, horns, meter, aura—Grandma?
(to BEDLAM)
Don't touch me. He's watching.
VLAD
You deserved a more determined Medea. Early.
Crib-time.
BEDLAM
(turns away)
Pitch-black soul.
DORIAN
(to BEDLAM; flips notes)
Stop. What's she play?
Your life notes: garbage.
Here. Talk. Make sense. Lines.
Go.
(VLAD waves black binder with swastika.)
BEDLAM
(opens machine; climbs pallet; clears throat)
Medea: "He took me to Corinth to pick grapes.
Landlord's daughter fell in the captain's lap."
MOM
(glee)
Ah, the bastard.
BEDLAM
"My mother heard—his shameless—
sent seven potions for the minx—
poison—then roast her over the landlord's still coals.
Her father gathers her in cinders."
MOM
Serves the man-stealer.
VLAD
Which still. Hemp or raki?
BEDLAM
Doesn't matter. My mother ran back. Grabbed us.
Sack. Prime hay. Tossed to pigs. Get at my father.
MOM
(finger wag)
Who, me? Tsk tsk.
BEDLAM
Right. Not you. Your clumsy hands.
The murderess—my mother—bolts with a carter.
Out the skylight.
Promises a can of Mani oil and six fucks at the bar.
Ma—did you square the carter?
(Pause. No answer.)
...Okay.
(pisses in well; mutters; shakes off)
Years passed. They molested us—with the priest—
Headmistress, priest, landowners.
We were kids. Pillow fights.
Cuddling.
We got fresh—between us—a bit.
VLAD
(flips him off)
You were kids.
BEDLAM
(to DORIAN)
Jett sixteen—pregnant—twins—you and Oedipus.
Landlord paid me—go—don't expose them.
VLAD
(rage)
Lie after lie.
BEDLAM
Dorian, me, Jett. Just three. Cross my heart.
Germany—stairs—me electrician—Jett dancer. Couldn't make it.
Diapers cheap—DORIAN peed standing up.
DORIAN
Pimp Bedlam.
BEDLAM
I flagged the authorities. Dangerous—Jett raising you—leftist ideas.
Naturally—I took the Chair of Tragedy.
VLAD
(smacks him with binder)
I got intel on your beliefs.
BEDLAM
(tears penis sketch)
Vulgar. Swastikas. Parades. Hate.
DORIAN
(peacemaking)
Dad. Enough.
BEDLAM
Back to rehearsal. Dump reality.
VLAD
(advances)
Light of my race's ideals blinds me—
DORIAN
I like night.
I jump over there—mud and piss—
with the soldier from your other race—
we play harmonica.
BEDLAM
(savage)
Like her grandma.
DORIAN
Dogs howl.
Wolf Moon's peak illumination coming.
You coming, darling, with the sax—
or stay with Bedlam—fight for ideals?
(VLAD shakes; wolf howls; snakes tongue; moon hits his mouth; canines push out.)
DORIAN
(reads; watches him)
End note—red: "Should Oedipus not wipe the empty socket of his eye with Jett's sanitary pads?
We are the purest race."
Meaning what.
BEDLAM
What's hard.
DORIAN
(runs after VLAD into Office)
Another brand. More absorbent?
BEDLAM
(pompous pursuit; stops; checks watch; counts on fingers; calls)
Shame on you, brat.
Doooo-rian!
DORIAN (OFF)
Yeah—what—won't be long.
BEDLAM
(pours caustic drink; to eagle; sets timer; ticking over speakers)
She goes to get laid. Again.
Out back.
Harmonica my ass.
Open a book. Downstairs. Rusty ladder.
You'll catch a chill.
I'm timing you.
Five hours max.
Back.
DORIAN (OFF)
Bye, Daaad. Auf wieder-seeeen—
(Short pause. End-of-rehearsal air. DORIAN drags VLAD back by sleeve.)
DORIAN
(pets his swastika-inked body)
No, love. Please. Don't. No—
(grabs his hand; he peels her off)
Vlad—stay. I want to tell Mom when she gets here.
BEDLAM
Not today. Tomorrow. Class too.
Go now. Soon a whorehouse in here.
You won't stand the stink. Regards.
Lose the swastikas.
(VLAD shakes hand coldly; bows; growls; Nazi salute; bolts; drags DORIAN; she clings; he smacks her back; frees; exit; door slam.)
BEDLAM
Like hell she'll lose him.
Jacket, DORIAN—he's sweaty.
(BEDLAM rips wig; hurls; sweeps desk; mirror + lipstick; smears.)
BEDLAM (CONT'D)
Bastard.
(MOM flings bus door from well. Slips. Splash.)
MOM
You brood it in your ass. We know your games.
BEDLAM
(layers lipstick; wipes with back of hand)
You—shut it. In the well.
Your fault, hag.
You'll see when I get back.
MOM
(to eagle)
What would be the future of Medea's children?
(stifled laughter)
Clowns, actors, teachers, kings or matricide.
Nothing major.
(BEDLAM pitches lipstick at bus door. From double-bottom drawer: revolver; checks rounds; chambers silver bullet. Eagle croaks; head jerks back. Pants down; keeps garters. Floral tight dress off rack; rips it on; gun holster at garter. Blondest wig. Red shoulder bag. Totters out in thick-heeled pumps.)
(Strong draft blows in. Marches from street.)
END OF ACT I — SCENE 1
ACT I — SCENE 2
(Silence. Stage empty except for MOM in the well and the EAGLE on the desk. DORIAN enters alone from the Office, carrying torn pages. She's disheveled, lipstick smeared. She stops. Looks at eagle.)
DORIAN
You still here?
(Eagle doesn't move. She approaches desk. Sits in BEDLAM's chair. Spins once. Stops.)
DORIAN (CONT'D)
You watch everything.
You don't judge.
That's nice.
(She pulls out a small notebook. Flips pages.)
DORIAN (CONT'D)
Bedlam says you're stuffed.
Dead-dead.
But you got more life than him.
More than Vlad.
Maybe more than me.
(Long pause. She writes something. Tears it out. Holds it up.)
DORIAN (CONT'D)
Want to hear?
(She reads aloud, flat.)
DORIAN (CONT'D)
"The well is full of mothers.
One hanging.
One drowned.
One not born yet.
The eagle knows.
The eagle won't tell."
(She crumples paper. Throws it at eagle. Misses.)
DORIAN (CONT'D)
You think I'm crazy?
(Eagle stares.)
DORIAN (CONT'D)
Yeah. Me too.
(She stands. Walks to well. Looks down.)
DORIAN (CONT'D)
Granny?
(No answer.)
DORIAN (CONT'D)
You dead yet?
(Faint groan from below.)
DORIAN (CONT'D)
Not yet, huh.
(She sits on edge of well. Dangles legs.)
DORIAN (CONT'D)
Bedlam says you killed your kids.
Threw 'em in a well like this.
Or fed 'em to pigs.
He can't decide.
(Pause.)
DORIAN (CONT'D)
Mom says you didn't.
Says Medea was a goddess.
Divine.
Not some drunk hag in a sack.
(She laughs bitterly.)
DORIAN (CONT'D)
I don't know who to believe.
Bedlam lies.
Mom lies.
Vlad lies.
Granny probably lied too.
(She looks back at eagle.)
DORIAN (CONT'D)
You're the only honest one here.
You just sit.
You just watch.
(She stands. Walks back to desk. Leans close to eagle.)
DORIAN (CONT'D)
If I ask you something—
if I ask you real—
will you answer?
(Silence. Eagle stares.)
DORIAN (CONT'D)
Didn't think so.
(She picks up a pen from desk. Taps eagle's beak.)
DORIAN (CONT'D)
When they kill me—
and they will—
you gonna watch that too?
(Eagle doesn't move.)
DORIAN (CONT'D)
Yeah. You will.
(Beat. She looks at her notebook.)
DORIAN (CONT'D)
I wrote something today.
About the well.
About Granny.
About what happens when you stop fighting.
(She reads quietly, almost to herself.)
DORIAN (CONT'D)
"She didn't jump.
She was pushed.
But she called it flying.
Let mom fly to the moon.
Let mom—"
(She stops. Crumples page.)
DORIAN (CONT'D)
Bullshit.
None of us fly.
We just fall quieter.
(She exits to Office. Stage darkens slightly. The EAGLE remains, lit by a single shaft of moonlight. From the well, a faint splash. MOM's foot twitches. The eagle's shadow stretches across the stage floor—massive, covering everything.)
END OF ACT I — SCENE 2
END OF ACT I
ACT II
TIME: 12:54 a.m. ET same night, approaching Wolf Moon's full illumination
ACT II — SCENE 1
(Power outage in the district. Candlelight and full moon. MOM's body lies on the floor. BEDLAM strips the dress, wipes lipstick, drags in municipal trash bin from street. Dumps it. Cans spill. He kneels. Wraps MOM like a mummy with bandages. DORIAN jump-ropes around the body.)
DORIAN
(paces; startles BEDLAM; laughs)
Peekaboo. Boo.
BEDLAM
(kneels; tool case open; fishes nails; holds some in lips; snaps words)
Don't hopscotch over my head.
Move. You'll tangle. Crack your face. Out.
DORIAN
Peekaboo. Boo. Peekaboo. Boo.
BEDLAM
(rummages, manic)
If power doesn't come back, I'll bury her in the Wall.
Out.
DORIAN
(keeps skipping; pops gum at MOM's ear)
I like the dark.
Moon, lights out.
BEDLAM
You jammed her in—dead night.
I'm gone an hour. You strike.
What's the moon done to you.
DORIAN
(words hit on rope beat)
It affects me.
Let mom fly to the moon.
Why not toss her back in the well.
BEDLAM
(hardens)
'Cause the old bitch might pop up.
See her daughter.
Give me the rope.
Didn't I buy you ropes, brat? Four.
You rushed. Someone chase you?
DORIAN
(pops gum)
She went glug... glug... and I was listening to beetles.
Couldn't focus. Butterfly flew by. I tracked it in the moon.
Grandma coughed. I missed dinner.
BEDLAM
Work it out. She strangled her—with fingers.
Bruises. No rope?
Hope she doesn't stink fast.
Your mother will smell it.
DORIAN
(recites like school poem)
It won't smell yet.
First, we'll hear flies crawl into the ears.
Lay eggs. Then it smells.
BEDLAM
You don't know.
DORIAN
I know.
Talk to Mom while I pick egg clutches from her ears.
Tighter.
She's breathing.
BEDLAM
(yanks rope; DORIAN falls on "corpse")
Up. Now.
DORIAN
Kiss my boo-boo. I fell.
Hug?
BEDLAM
Later, you little loss.
DORIAN
Now.
BEDLAM
Beat it.
DORIAN
(screams; kicks)
I want to watch.
BEDLAM
Out. In ten minutes, your mom's here.
DORIAN
I shouldn't play?
BEDLAM
(mummifies mother's face in tape)
Their minds are all on play.
Say "book" and they vanish.
(He spins bin. Pads it with foam and sheets. Wrestles body, twists head, shoves with feet. Body grinds into foam.)
BEDLAM
(runs to desk; stares at stuffed eagle; exhausted)
You don't speak, huh? Course not. You just sit.
Like me. Like the whole damn place.
What the fuck am I doing here?
DORIAN
You talking to the bird again.
BEDLAM
What's it to you?
DORIAN
Nothing. Just—it's creepy.
BEDLAM
Yeah. And you think you're alive?
(Silence. They size each other up. Pipes moan.)
DORIAN
I've been writing.
BEDLAM
Show me.
DORIAN
You'll hate it.
BEDLAM
I hate everything.
DORIAN
Exactly.
(She tosses pages on desk. BEDLAM doesn't look. Stares at her. Long beat. Finally picks up pages. Flips through without reading.)
BEDLAM
You think this—this is tragedy?
This is some goddamn diary.
DORIAN
It's not for you.
BEDLAM
Then why bring it?
DORIAN
Because you ask. Because you sit there, waiting, like I'm your supply.
BEDLAM
(goes next to her threateningly)
I'm teaching you.
DORIAN
No. You're feeding.
(Beat. Eagle looms. BEDLAM laughs once, harsh.)
BEDLAM
(to eagle)
You hear her? Talking like she's Cassandra.
DORIAN
Better Granny than your ventriloquist dummy.
(Phone rings. BEDLAM finds it on floor.)
BEDLAM
(on phone)
Hello—Jett—yeah—Come slow.
Don't rush, love. Yes. I'm waiting.
(Listens. His face changes.)
Ah, piss off.
(They heave bin upright. Mop floor with rags. Car approaches. They throw boards over well; cast sheets on bus. Shove bin behind it. BEDLAM runs to desk, staring at eagle.)
(Enter JETT with candle. She carries her age like armor, glamorous and exhausted. Lights cigarette, ignores them both.)
JETT
You fighting again? Jesus.
BEDLAM
Always.
DORIAN
He started it.
JETT
He always does.
You still talking to the fucking bird?
(She exhales smoke, stares at eagle.)
BEDLAM
It listens.
JETT
It's stuffed. Like your career.
(BEDLAM slams tape recorder button. Burst of static. Woman's scream, distant, then silence.)
BEDLAM
You hear that? That's truth.
Not your applause-chasing.
That. Raw.
DORIAN
It's a broken tape.
JETT
It's you, brother.
Always broken.
(From above, ragged robes of Furies sway. Low chorus hum, rising then falling. DORIAN shivers. JETT doesn't flinch.)
JETT
They're restless.
BEDLAM
Good. Let them. Restless means alive.
DORIAN
Restless means hungry.
(JETT walks over with playful steps, overturns bin. MOM's body rolls out. BEDLAM whistles indifferently. DORIAN files nails.)
JETT
(stifled laughter)
Christ almighty. What is this?
BEDLAM
A ritual.
JETT
It's desecration.
BEDLAM
It's preservation.
JETT
It's madness.
(She sets down candle, lights cigarette off flame. Watches. Smoke drifts.)
JETT (CONT'D)
Mother deserved better.
BEDLAM
Mother deserved truth.
DORIAN
Granny deserved quiet.
(She stares at body, then at JETT, then at BEDLAM.)
DORIAN (CONT'D)
You don't even look at her. You look through her.
BEDLAM
Because she's gone.
JETT
Because you killed her.
(Beat. BEDLAM freezes, tape bandage half-wrapped. Looks at JETT, then at eagle. Silence thickens.)
BEDLAM
Don't say that.
JETT
You wanted it.
You called it. And here she is.
DORIAN
Stop.
JETT
Tell me I'm wrong.
(Furies stir above. Low hiss. Candle flickers.)
BEDLAM
(to eagle)
You hear this? She blames me.
DORIAN
We should bury her.
JETT
We should burn her.
BEDLAM
We should keep her.
(Long pause. Three stare at body from separate corners of light. Sound of wind outside. Candle gutters.)
JETT
(quiet, almost gentle)
When did she die?
BEDLAM
Hour ago. Maybe two.
JETT
Who?
(BEDLAM looks at DORIAN. DORIAN looks at floor.)
DORIAN
The moon.
JETT
The moon didn't strangle her.
DORIAN
I listened to beetles.
JETT
You watched.
DORIAN
I listened.
JETT
Same thing.
(Silence. Rope slips from DORIAN's hand. Stage darkens slightly. Only body visible in moonlight.)
END OF ACT II — SCENE 1
ACT II — SCENE 2
(Stage mostly dark. JETT sits on edge of desk, smoking. BILL enters from street door, briefcase in hand. Stops when he sees her.)
BILL
Thought you'd be with them.
JETT
I am.
BILL
You're here.
JETT
Same thing.
(He sets briefcase down. Doesn't open it.)
BILL
Power's out all over the district.
JETT
Convenient.
BILL
You think?
JETT
I know.
(Beat. He looks toward the Office, where sounds of movement.)
BILL
What are they doing?
JETT
What you paid for.
BILL
I didn't pay for this.
JETT
You paid for a show. You're getting one.
(He laughs, bitter.)
BILL
This isn't a show. This is—
JETT
What.
BILL
You know what.
JETT
Say it.
(Pause. He won't.)
JETT
You've been funding this for three years.
You knew what Bedlam was.
You knew what he did to me.
What he did to DORIAN.
You knew about Mother.
BILL
I knew about the research.
JETT
The research.
BILL
The studio. The archive. The—
JETT
The well?
(He stops.)
BILL
What well.
JETT
Don't.
BILL
I don't know what you're—
JETT
You helped him dig it.
(Long silence. He sits slowly.)
BILL
That was different.
JETT
How.
BILL
It was conceptual. A prop. For the Medea work.
JETT
And the bus?
BILL
Set piece.
JETT
And Mother?
(Silence. From offstage: muffled sounds of BEDLAM and DORIAN arguing.)
JETT
You knew she was here.
Hanging upside down.
For weeks.
BILL
I thought it was—performance.
JETT
It was.
BILL
I thought she was—acting.
JETT
She was.
Until she wasn't.
(Beat. He opens briefcase. Stacks of bills inside.)
BILL
I brought the rest.
For the production.
Pontus. February. You said—
JETT
There's no production.
BILL
What?
JETT
There's no Pontus.
No February.
No show.
BILL
Then what the hell have I been—
JETT
Paying for a murder.
(He stands, furious.)
BILL
Don't put that on me.
JETT
You're here, aren't you?
BILL
I'm a sponsor.
JETT
You're a witness.
(She stands. Walks to him. Close.)
JETT
Question is: what kind.
BILL
What do you want?
JETT
What I've always wanted.
Dorian out.
Bedlam gone.
The studio closed.
BILL
Then why didn't you—
JETT
Because I needed proof.
And I needed you.
BILL
You're using me.
JETT
Yes.
BILL
For what?
JETT
To end it.
(Pause. Sound of door opening offstage. They both freeze.)
DORIAN (OFF, distant)
Mom?
(JETT puts finger to lips. Silence. BILL doesn't move.)
JETT
(whisper)
You'll testify.
When it's over.
You'll say what you saw.
What you funded.
Or I'll say what we did.
In the Office.
With the door locked.
BILL
That was—
JETT
What.
BILL
You wanted—
JETT
Proof.
(She smiles. Cold.)
JETT
And now I have it.
(She exits toward the Office. BILL stands alone, briefcase open, money visible. He looks at the eagle on the desk. The eagle stares back. He snaps briefcase shut. Exits to street. Stage empty except eagle and the covered well. From the well: faint dripping sound.)
END OF ACT II — SCENE 2
ACT II — SCENE 3
(Later. DORIAN paces. JETT examines MOM's body more closely, clinical.)
DORIAN
(Deep breath; playful scratch)
Look, Mom. This well—nice, huh?
And a bus—trips later—checkered cloths, Coca-Colas—
just us three—and Vlad?
JETT
(startled)
How many?
There's water on the floor. You hit a vein?
DORIAN
...a head. Underground vein.
Dad dug it.
BEDLAM
(from desk, not looking up)
Black soil like pig blood.
Here Medea throws the kids.
JETT
Why the well?
BEDLAM
So the world won't see blood.
So they float when she croons at night.
Then—hands all soaked—she pulls her hair—
sees her hideous face in the moon—and howls.
JETT
And then?
You toss Medea after them?
DORIAN
Does Mom slaughter the kids alone—down the well?
BEDLAM
Ask your mother.
(JETT rises; hugs DORIAN; kisses from arms to neck.)
JETT
(offhand)
Vlad climbs down the well too?
BEDLAM
(sly)
Ask your daughter.
(VLAD, hiding behind bus, bolts half-dressed for street.)
DORIAN
(her outstretched hand to stop him hangs in air)
My idiot—what spooked him—running barefoot again.
He'll cough all night.
(JETT takes and kisses DORIAN's suspended hand.)
DORIAN
(MOM's corpse moves.)
We play. He stays. Grandmom flies. Mom stays.
(JETT draws revolver. Two slow shots on MOM's corpse. BEDLAM unfazed. She holsters.)
JETT
I hope you bagged our real one.
Or did the snitches pass you a double.
Did you check Mom's black mole—
left of her cunt?
DORIAN
(fast)
Of course.
BEDLAM
(pulls DORIAN close, protective)
In front of the child—really.
You militarists are shameless.
JETT
Don't use such words for my child—
for the baby you took—
calling me unstable—
dangerous—in their court?
DORIAN
Where do we dump her?
(Long pause. Glassy stare. Ice-cold.)
JETT
(flat)
Medea didn't kill from jealousy.
She killed to return.
To her divine nature.
Mortal love poisoned her.
The children were the poison.
She cut it out.
DORIAN
(notes in binder)
A-ha. Told you, asshole.
BEDLAM
Jason didn't care.
He wanted worldly stuff. Dowry. Old age.
Mortal man.
No divine spark.
Not an idiot either.
DORIAN
(blows Dad a kiss; enters tunnel; booms)
You owe me porcelain—remember.
(Men's hands yank her to tunnel. She fights out, half-naked.)
DORIAN (CONT'D)
Don't forget, Oedipus-BILL, who'll walk in soon—playing dumb—he's also—
BEDLAM
(sharp; scolding)
DORIAN!
DORIAN
Don't pull like that, you pumped-up yokel.
You'll stretch them. Wait—I gotta tattle—
BEDLAM
Don't.
DORIAN
(she slaps soldier; gives in, aroused)
Oedipus has another tie to my mom and me—so Dad says. What to believe.
(MOM's body is stirred and turned over.)
DORIAN
(to the men in tunnel)
Turned on, huh?
(JETT bends, crying, knocking her head. BEDLAM charges to scold DORIAN, but soldier's hands haul her into tunnel. Suddenly—like a cuckoo clock—DORIAN pops out again in three different exits—laughing—naked.)
DORIAN
I'm a vampire, Mom. Not some asshole!
(She dives back. Eerie laughter.)
(LIGHTS SNAP OUT.)
END OF ACT II — SCENE 3
Acts I and II end here.
Act III — the Wolf Moon ritual — is sent to theatre professionals on request.
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