CAST OF CHARACTERS

DR. ECLECTIC:

Dr. Eclectic is a psychiatrist in his late 40's or early fifties. He's a very nervous gentleman and acts more like a patient in a Doctor's role. He is smoking a pipe, wearing horn rimmed glasses and short hair. He wears plaid bermuda shorts and a t-shirt that says "Guilt is a five letter word."

MS. UPRIGHT:

Ms. Upright is in her early 40's, married, career woman and mother of several children. She is having bad dreams and once again seeks out professional help.

MR. UNCONSCIOUS:

A good looking man in a suit, business like and conservative in appearance. He's in his mid-30's. He is there to assist her. He is matter of fact and wishes to help, if she'd only let him.

SECRETARY:

Off stage voice, only one line.

STEWARDESS:

Dressed as typical airline stewardess. Late 20's.

DREAM CHARACTERS:

The following characters are dressed as dream characters.

ROWBOAT LADY

MAN EATING SHARK

MAN IN TUXEDO

AMY

UNCLE

COUSIN

YOUNG MAN

NANNY

LITTLE GIRL

BURRO

DRAGON

NAKED DANCING MEN

PREGNANT LADY

DANCERS:

This group of dancers have no lines but dance/interpret parts of the dreams.

SCENE

We are in Dr. Eclectic's office.

TIME

Present

Scene I

SETTING:

The scene is a psychiatrist's office. Couch, stage right,chair next to it. Desk and 2 chairs, stage left. Small table with tape recorder on it near desk. Stack of huge pillows. Cutesy posters with sayings like "If life gives you lemons, make lemonade." An interesting mixture of Freudian and California fad psychologies.

AT RISE:

We find Dr. Eclectic. He is seated at his desk, talking into a tape recorder.

DR. ECLECTIC:

The Rossner File, continuation.

(Pauses, scratches head, draws on pipe, heavy in thought.)

The Rolfing helped to uncover a very rigid backbone with leanings to the right in the pelvic area. Obviously sexual suppression, in the first degree. I worked her over thoroughly. She became quite hysterical, screaming that I was hurting her. Clearly a transference occurred and she now equates me with her father. When she left, she was less rigid, in fact, she was so loosened up she almost fell over. Excellent progress. She'll adjust soon and will be walking normally, free of her sexual suppression! Over.

(We hear an inner com buzzer.)

SECRETARY

(off stage)

Your new patient, Ms. Upright, is here Doctor.

DOCTOR:

Ah. Send her in.

(Door opens. She enters stage right. He goes to greet her, and leads her to the desk.)

So nice to meet you, my dear. Do come in and sit here. I'll want to take some history before we begin.

MS UPRIGHT:

(Nervous)

Thank you

DOCTOR:

(Pulls out tons of paper and a pen.)

When were you born?

MS UPRIGHT:

(Sighs. She's been here before.)

October 16.

DOCTOR:

How old are you? Aha! I'll bet you thought I was going to ask the year of your birth and figure it out that way. Well- there's more than one way to skin a cat.

(Pleased with himself)

MS UPRIGHT:

I'm 40 years old. Look, Dr. Eclectic,

DOCTOR:

Did you like your Daddy?

MS UPRIGHT:

Please, Doctor, I really don't--

DOCTOR:

Name your first invisible friend.

MS UPRIGHT:

All my friends were highly visible.

DOCTOR:

You had friends, then?

MS UPRIGHT:

Doctor, look--let's just--

DOCTOR:

When did you first masturbate?

MS UPRIGHT:

(Standing)

Doctor. I've had enough.

DOCTOR:

AHA. Now we're getting somewhere--when you say you've had enough, do you mean--

MS UPRIGHT:

I've been through several different psychiatrist's and none of them have worked. Maybe I should just--

DOCTOR:

What? Give up? Certainly not. You have come to the right place. I've studied all the psychological theories. Of course, the hard part is figuring out which one fits. Be patient, Ms. Upright. We'll find the one for you. Obviously it isn't Freudian analysis. Aha. Since you are standing, let's try Rolfing.

MS UPRIGHT:

What's that?

DOCTOR:

(Scurries around to her.)

That's a straightening and realignment of the body posture releasing stored up psychic energies--what's your sign?

(Starts to get into a weird wrestling position.)

MS UPRIGHT:

Doctor, you're making me nervous.

DOCTOR:

Goodness. This is an odd time in the session for transference to occur, but why quibble with success.

(They are twisting into odd postures. He is stuck now, his glasses half on.)

Ms. Upright, I can go no further with the therapy until I know your sign.

MS UPRIGHT:

Oh, excuse me. I'm sorry. It's libra.

DOCTOR:

(Yells "aha", like a karate yell and swings around, knocking her off balance. She falls onto the pile of pillows, yelling ouch.) (He is quite ruffled and out of breath.)

Eureka! A breakthrough.

MS UPRIGHT:

(Annoyed)

A broken ankle, more like. Doctor, this is not working.

DOCTOR:

(Momentarily at a loss)

Oh, dear.

(Brightens)

My dear - your unconscious has chosen the therapy. Look where you've landed. on the pillows.

MS UPRIGHT:

Don't talk to me about my unconscious, if you please. I've had quite enough nonsense from it.

DOCTOR:

Aha.Anger. Perfect. Pretend one of these pillows is your unconscious and hit it.

MS UPRIGHT:

Doctor, I have no desire to hit a pillow.

DOCTOR:

(Drops to knees)

No wait, see--That's the whole point. You are not hitting a pillow. You are expressing your anger in a constructive way. It's fun, really. Look.

(He hits a few.)

Does this big blue pillow remind you of anyone?

MS UPRIGHT:

(Humoring him)

No. You see, my unconscious and I haven't been formally introduced.

DOCTOR:

Aha. Aha. that is the problem. Eureka. You two are supposed to be working together on these things.

MS UPRIGHT:

Tell that to her. I'm doing my best. All this therapy. And still I can't sleep for all those strange dreams. Senseless, perverted--

DOCTOR:

AHA AHA AHA I'm all ears. Dream therapy. Tell me at once and I'll write them down.

MS UPRIGHT:

Ugh. No way.

(Gets up to go.)

DOCTOR:

AHA. Resistance.

MS UPRIGHT:

(Stamps foot)

I'm not resisting. Doctor. It's just that for weeks now, I haven't been able to sleep because of all those dreams. Shadows talking to me in jive--screams--such a sense of loneliness. I--it's--I just want it to stop. I'm being tormented like I'm some kind of murderer when I've taken such pains not to be--well, I mean-I've never wanted to murder anybody. It's just not fair.

DOCTOR:

Aha. Hypnotism. Just the thing. Those dreams are messages from your unconscious mind. It is imperative to decipher them.

MS UPRIGHT:

(Peevish)

If she's got something to say, why doesn't she just say it-in plain English.

DOCTOR:

My no. The unconscious doesn't work that way at all. They speak symboleeze.

MS UPRIGHT:

Well, I the conscious, speaks Plain English.

DOCTOR:

Well, I doubt it. I'm sure it sounds like it to you. Come Let's try the hypnotism. Trust me.

MS UPRIGHT:

Do what??

DOCTOR:

Try hypnotism. Oh, I really like this therapy. We'll have fun. I'll put you under and I'll ask you a series of questions about what your dreams mean-and I'll request the answers be in plain english. Here. Lie down on this couch.

(He assists her to lie down., he turns to get the crystal from the table.)

MS UPRIGHT:

(Sits up suddenly.)

Wait!

DOCTOR:

(Jumps)

Oh. Please don't sneak up on a psychiatrist like that. I could have had a trauma.

MS UPRIGHT:

I'm sorry, but this makes me nervous.

DOCTOR:

Nothing can go wrong. I assure you. It's simple. Lie down, really. It's all right.

(She resists as he pushes her back down on the couch.)

People have such superstitions about hypnosis. Really, Ms. Upright, I won't even make you cluck like a chicken. Although...oh, well, just lie down, please.

(She finally lies down. He turns to get the crystal.)

MS UPRIGHT:

(Gets up and stands behind him.)

Dr. Eclectic--

DOCTOR:

(Shrieks)

God damn it. I mean, goodness me. I really feel upset. I asked you not to sneak up on me.

(Goes to pillow, finds one the same color and shape of her, screams and kicks. Suddenly stops. Readjusts glasses, and returns to her.)

There. I feel much better. Now, what is it?

MS UPRIGHT:

What's the worst thing that could happen to me?

DOCTOR:

Well, if you keep scaring me like that-I can't answer for the consequences.--oh--you mean the hypnotism. Nothing. The worst--well--you could get lost in there and not come back--

MS UPRIGHT:

Oh, No. I couldn't bear it.

(Turns to leave, he pushes button and bars come down, locks clang shut)

DOCTOR:

Please let me finish.--and not come back for several hours. Then you'll just fall into a deep sleep and wake the next morning feeling better than you ever have before, quite refreshed.

MS UPRIGHT:

I think I'd rather not.

DOCTOR:

Come now, Ms. Upright. I have had a long and tiring day. You will not be harmed. Do strive for a little more cooperation!

MS UPRIGHT:

Sorry. It's just that--

DOCTOR:

I know.

(Leads her to the couch.)

First timers always get a little nervous. Do lie down. Let us begin, shall we?

(Turns to pick up crystal, turns back to see if she's sneaking up on him. She hasn't moved. He gets crystal. Swings it back and forth, chanting:)

Nighty night and
Sleepy Bye.
Deep into your own mind
And off you go. Sweetie pie.

(Repeats several times)

Now let's count down.

(Dancers enter. As Dr. Eclectic counts, they leap over the couch. Each one does a different kind of dance leap. One or more dancers are in wheelchairs, sees no ramp, looks at audience, shrugs and pirouette around couch. After each leap, they end in a long line back of the stage.They sing and dance out:)

Now I lay me down to sleep,
Pray the lord my soul to keep,
And If I die before I wake,

MS UPRIGHT:

(Sits bolt upright)

DOCTOR:

Tisk. Trust me.

(He lies her back down. He is only slightly traumatized.)

Maybe something more soothing.

(He is unaware the dancers exist. He sings and dancers act out:)

Rock a bye baby
In a tree top,
And if the cradle breaks
Down will come baby
Cradle and all.
CRASH!

(Ms. Upright struggles and then she is out. rock a bye music continues as dancers and Dr. Eclectic carry out props and furniture.)

One act Play

SCENE 2

AT RISE:

An empty stage, dark, a few eerie shadows, rock a bye music in distorted, in the distance. We see the couch with sleeping figure of "Ms. Upright" on the proscenium in front and in corner, stage right.

MS. UPRIGHT:

(Enters hesitantly from stage right. Peeks around curtain, ventures out.)

Dr. Eclectic? Hello. Anyone here? It's cold here.

(She goes center upstage. Something weird swoops past her. She turns about face and retreats center downstage.)

Dr. Eclectic? I'm done now. My unconscious and I have met. She didn't have the time to chat. So I'd like to come back. OK? Dr. Eclectic??

STEWARDESS:

(Enters stage left)

Good Morning!! So happy to have you aboard the Good Ship Unconscious.

(Brings a straight back chair, a pillow and a cup of coffee. Sits her down, fluffs the pillow)

Being a submarine, we will be going under in just a few minutes. Our Captain has asked that you all wear snorkels, just in case, although he wishes to assure you all he's made this trip thousands of times and never had to use a snorkel yet. This snorkel,

(Holds it up for her and the audience to see. ms. Upright faces upstage.)

will be used only if high waters threaten to enter the Good Ship Unconscious. You will place it over your head, thusly, and breath in this manner.

(Breathes noisily)

until the water subsides. We have, in addition, an optional pair of frog's feet flippers

(Demonstrates putting them on)

which cost only $1.00. For your traveling enjoyment, we have the very latest in Ave Gaunt entertainment, one of Ms. Upright's more recent dreams, live and in color. If we should encounter heavy seas, strong swimmers will put on their flippers and swim. Those of you who aren't strong swimmers, thank you for traveling with the Good Ship Unconscious.

(Ms. Upright stands up to protest as the Stewardess flip flops out stage right, walking clear across the stage.)

MS. UPRIGHT:

Wait.

STEWARDESS:

Really, Ms. Upright, It's just an old joke. There is nothing to worry about.

MS. UPRIGHT:

I, yes, but, I don't want to see the dream.

STEWARDESS:

Now Ms. Upright. Please try to be less selfish. They do want to see the dream.

MS. UPRIGHT:

Oh.

(Turns to audience)

Excuse me. I didn't know, but you see--

STEWARDESS:

(Off stage)

Start the dream.

MR. UNCONSCIOUS:

(Enters,and sits to her right, bringing in his own chair.)

MS. UPRIGHT:

(As she turns to be seated, she sees him and is startled.)

OH! I truly hope they don't show anything perverted.

MR. UNCONSCIOUS:

It is all in the eye of the beholder.

MS. UPRIGHT:

Have we been introduced?

MR. UNCONSCIOUS:

Not yet...

MS. UPRIGHT:

I know who you are and I just want you to know this meeting wasn't my idea.

MR. UNCONSCIOUS:

Believe me, dear. I know.

MS. UPRIGHT:

I suppose you mean to take me down to the depths of my soul and force me to stare at ugly dark secrets.

MR. UNCONSCIOUS:

Never. I will show you the beauty of the dark, the shiny ebony, the muted velvet.

MS. UPRIGHT:

I think we need to get a few things straight right here and now. I like my life just the way it is, being married, my children. I enjoy my job--I'm a lucky woman. Please, leave me alone.

MR. UNCONSCIOUS:

You've gone numb. You are an occasional visitor in your own body.

MS. UPRIGHT:

You try to do all I do. Not enough time. If I didn't get with the program, I wouldn't be where I am today!

MR. UNCONSCIOUS:

You aren't where you are today.

MS. UPRIGHT:

I hate it when you talk in riddles. Give it to me straight.

MR. UNCONSCIOUS:

Straight, no chaser? OK. Love. Life. Fear. Death. Joy. Mystery. God. Self. Pain. Pleasure. Open up, relax. Flow. Let go. BE.

MS. UPRIGHT:

You've been reading too many of those self-help books. This business of life is harder than it looks.

MR. UNCONSCIOUS:

No, the pleasure of living is easier than you think.

MS. UPRIGHT:

You speak in cliches.

MR. UNCONSCIOUS:

Life is a cliche. Everything you've ever felt, everyone has felt. Makes death rather mundane.

MS. UPRIGHT:

Going to nag me about those dreams again, eh?

MR. UNCONSCIOUS:

That's what I'm here for.

MS. UPRIGHT:

OK. Give me your best shot. I can take it.

MR. UNCONSCIOUS:

Rocky 15, hu? Ok, so, why have you been locking yourself in the bathroom, crying?

MS. UPRIGHT:

I'm having a mid life crisis. It's normal for my age.

MR. UNCONSCIOUS:

Ah, I see. At your age. Well then, when your son was two years old, you were, let me see, twenty two at the time, he broke a ceramic poodle. You knocked him clear across the room.

MS UPRIGHT:

I still feel the guilt.

MR UNCONSCIOUS:

I know.

MS UPRIGHT:

My old beau gave me that stupid thing, but it was hardly worth hurting my son over it.

MR UNCONSCIOUS:

Then you ran out into a rainy night and didn't return until 3:04 A.M. Perfectly normal, for your age?

MS. UPRIGHT:

Why don't you explain that one, in plain English.

MR. UNCONSCIOUS:

Boring. And you won't believe me. That's why I stick with symbolism.

MS. UPRIGHT:

You can't explain it, can you. That's it, isn't it?

MR. UNCONSCIOUS:

OK, here goes. You loved Sam.

MS. UPRIGHT:

I knew that. Sam, Sam of the golden eyes...

MR. UNCONSCIOUS:

You married Bruce for practical reasons.

MS. UPRIGHT:

I loved Bruce.

MR. UNCONSCIOUS:

Are you going to let me speak in Plain English, or not?

MS. UPRIGHT:

Go ahead, There's no one stopping you.

MR. UNCONSCIOUS:

Sam became perfect, Bruce imperfect. When the poodle broke, you had been thinking about divorcing Bruce.

MS. UPRIGHT:

I never did.

MR. UNCONSCIOUS:

Down here, you did. That was as close as you could come to admitting the truth.

MS UNRIGHT:

I don't know where you come up with these stories.

MR UNCONSCIOUS:

You mourned the broken gift consciously and I mourned the death of a dream down here.

MS UPRIGHT:

You have a lively imagination.

MR UNCONSCIOUS:

Yes, I wish you did, up there. Plain English loses so much in the translation. Didn't believe me, hu?

MS. UPRIGHT:

How could I? What a trite little scene.

MR. UNCONSCIOUS:

I agree, but it can't be helped. It is a language problem. I didn't even touch on the compulsions, or the feelings of unworthiness, or of living someone else's idea of a life.

MS. UPRIGHT:

That isn't true. I have the life I want, I keep telling you.

MR. UNCONSCIOUS:

Yes, you keep telling me. But you don't have the vaguest idea of what you want.

MS. UPRIGHT:

And I suppose you do.

MR. UNCONSCIOUS:

Having more information at my disposal, I can safely say I do.

MS. UPRIGHT:

Arrogant, conceited--

MR. UNCONSCIOUS:

No, just fastidious. I store every memory you've ever had. I can go get anyone I want at a moment's notice.

MS. UPRIGHT:

Then go get one.

MR. UNCONSCIOUS:

I beg your pardon?

MS. UPRIGHT:

Show me what I want. Enlighten me.

MR. UNCONSCIOUS:

Ah, the trumpeting call of a challenge. Very well, Madam. I shall return in a few moments. While I'm gone why don't you watch that dream.

(He exits, stage left. Sound of door opening, crowd noises, circus animals, a scream, a laugh, the door shuts and silence. Spotlight up on stage right. Dancers enter and dance "Growing, wanting, becoming, afraid. Too many directions to choose from, Regretting. so tired. Looking for something lost. Can't find it. Giving it up. Locked into repetitive tasks. Robot-like, leave stage right. Lights up.)

MR. UNCONSCIOUS:

(Enters stage left, door opens, noises as before. Door closes, after he fights all that stuff back like closing a bulging closet door.)

I've chosen a few things for your perusal.

MS. UPRIGHT:

I think I understood some of your symbolism in that last dream.

MR. UNCONSCIOUS:

Very likely, we're not very deep yet.

(Sounds of sonar blips, water reflection shadows dance around the walls.)

We are getting there now.

(His voice sounds distant and distorted)

MS. UPRIGHT:

(Stands up and goes center stage, facing audience and sounds desperate.)

I don't want to go any further. I don't want to know. I'll be happier not knowing.

(Baby spot, she bursts into song)

What's it all about, Alfie?
Now He's asked that question of me.
What if I don't like what I hear?
What's it all about, Sweetie?
Oh, things were so comfortable before--
Maybe I'll find out I'm a Lesbian
Or a republican.
Or a somebody I don't know...
How happy and self aware does a person
gotta be??
No thanks, I'll pass.
I'll be on my way.
I'm outta here.
Paint me gone.
See yah
later 'gater,
After while, Crocodile.

(Speaks)

I can't help but notice I'm still here.--OK, You've got me. Let's just get it over with. The least you could do is have naked dancing men.

(Off stage, sounds of tap dancers in unison)

MS. UPRIGHT:

No. Wait. I was just kidding. No don't--don't come out here--like that.

TAP DANCER:

OK by me, lady. I'm union. we get paid whether we dance or not.

MR. UNCONSCIOUS:

(Enters stage right)

Sorry guys, maybe later. Madam! Your Unconscious, Incorporated, is proud to present "A Cavalcade of Past Events That Are Presently Influencing Your Somewhat Narrow minded Conduct.

MS. UPRIGHT:

Narrow minded!

(Off stage sound: a door opening with a click and slowly creaking open.)

Cute. I'm just scared to death.

(Lighting effects, slides of oceans, waterfalls, rain, puddles, lights shimmer on and off, in and out. ENTER:)

ROWBOAT LADY:

(Woman walks on wearing a cardboard cut away of row boat, The HMS SLATE. She busily rows herself to Center Stage. She speaks in a little girl voice.)

Oh, Sharks.

(She pauses from doing her nails and hits the "Shark" with her nail file ineffectively. she whines.)

Go away. Bad sharks. Leave me alone.

(Freeze Action.)

MS. UPRIGHT:

That one is so obvious. Life is fraught with dangers and you have to protect yourself.

MR. UNCONSCIOUS:

That's how you protect yourself?

MS. UPRIGHT:

Of course not--

MAN EATING SHARK:

(Offstage we hear a terrible roar. a man eating shark comes out and quickly devours rowboat lady. We see slides of bloody water, shark frenzy, or video. All Rowboat lady can do is scream in terror, her eyes enormous with fright.)

MS. UPRIGHT:

(Stands and paces, points to now empty stage.)

There! That's what I mean. Scare me half to death, for what purpose!

MR. UNCONSCIOUS:

Why didn't you protect yourself?

MS. UPRIGHT:

From what! They were little bitty sharks until you brought in Jaws. By then, it was too late.

MR. UNCONSCIOUS:

Who taught you to see little bitty sharks? Who taught you not to fight?

MS. UPRIGHT:

My parents taught me to fight all right. Everybody's out to make the parents the bad guys. They loved me and taught me well.

MR. UNCONSCIOUS:

Yep. They taught you well.

MS. UPRIGHT:

And they loved me!

MR. UNCONSCIOUS:

Yes. And they loved you. It's true.

(A baby spot. Man in tuxedo smiles at a woman. He is suave and sinister. We hear background party noises. Use lighting to create tension.)

MAN IN TUX:

Amy, come join us. Come in, dear. We're waiting...for you.

AMY:

(Is scared and uncertain. the party looks fun but he's both attractive and scary.)

No, thanks. I'd rather not...really. Thanks anyway...I...

MAN IN TUX:

Amy. Don't be childish. Dear. Don't fight us. You must come sooner or later. There is no choice. It is me...or it is me.

AMY:

(Drawn to him, but confused.)

I feel so sleepy--

MAN IN TUX:

Yes, my sweet. Very sleepy. Come here to me.

AMY:

You are so very beautiful...

MAN IN TUX:

Closer. Come closer.

AMY:

...I'm afraid....I don't want to...I can't stop..my feet..I can't pull away. Oh, please..someone..help me.

MAN IN TUX:

(Amy is now in his arms. He laughs a deep laugh, evil.)

You are mine now. You always were. You always will be.

MS. UPRIGHT:

(To Amy)

Wait! Oh, you must resist!

(To Mr. Unconscious)

Who is that man? He means her harm. Why do you plague me with these people? I don't know any of them.

(Projection on screen of his evil face that blends in and out of several other faces, one a motherly woman's face.)

AMY:

(Stares with horror at her hand.)

Look!

(She cries to a young man who was watching.)

These are bullet holes in my hand.

YOUNG MAN:

They got their poison in you.

AMY:

Poison! I've been poisoned. Oh, help me--please, help me. I'm trying to resist but the poison is so--Can't you help me?

YOUNG MAN:

(Weakly smiles and shrugs shoulders.)

AMY:

If they get me, they'll suck out my Own Self and put me in an Alien's body.

(She tries to resist.)

UNCLE AND COUSIN:

(Enter, Cousin has a broken rifle)

YOUNG MAN:

(Freezes in a "Sorry I can't help you posture.)

AMY:

Uncle. Help me. They got their poison in me.

UNCLE:

(Pats her reassuringly.)

Now, now. No such thing. I've been guarding the stairs all night and no one's been near you. Really, dear...you must grow up and let go of these childish fears.

AMY

(To her cousin)

Do you see him?

COUSIN:

Yes. He's there all right.

(Attempts to shoot man in Tux with his rifle but the gun barrel rolls off and he becomes involved with trying to fix it.)

MAN IN TUX:

(Waits, confident and smiling. Light goes out and another one comes up on a box with objects on it. She starts to pick one up. It is corroded and falls apart.)

AMY:

Oh, God. Everything they touch is poisoned. They're here again.

(Another box is lit. Amy tries to crawl in but its too small and her arms and legs stick out. ENTER: A square cardboard box Robot Nanny.)

AMY:

Oh, Nanny. Thank goodness you've come. They go there poison in me and I'm afraid and he won't leave me alone and...

(Amy gets out of box and tries to cuddle with Nanny.)

NANNY:

(Pats her awkwardly, talks like a computer.)

THERE. THERE. YOU ARE FINE.

AMY:

Why aren't there any kind men for me?

NANNY:

THERE ARE. OH. LOOK.

(On her chest are pictures of nice men.)

AMY:

If I choose one, will there be anybody for my brother?

NANNY:

OH. YES. LOOK.

(We see pictures of nice women.)

AMY:

Good. Oh, look. The British are coming. This means war.

MS. UPRIGHT:

(Interrupts the dream)

The british are coming! That doesn't make sense! This war business-

MR. UNCONSCIOUS:

Think.

MS. UPRIGHT:

My family are good Christian people.

MR. UNCONSCIOUS:

Feel.

MS. UPRIGHT:

You're just dramatizing things. Nobody poisoned me.

MR. UNCONSCIOUS:

No one?

MS. UPRIGHT:

No one. My family is--I do not need this kind of abuse.

MR. UNCONSCIOUS:

I know that.

MS. UPRIGHT:

Ha. Ha. Highly amusing.

(Turns to look at frozen tableau)

Who is he?

MR. UNCONSCIOUS:

You know him well.

MS. UPRIGHT:

I never saw him before in my life.

(Turns her back on the tableau)

Let's get on with it. Maybe the next dream will make more sense. I haven't got all day.

MR. UNCONSCIOUS:

I, on the other hand, have all night.

(Lights flash, stripper music starts.)

MS. UPRIGHT:

Not sex! Come on, now--don't start up with that stuff again.

(Music slows down like machine turned off with needle still on record.)

MR. UNCONSCIOUS:

How long has it been?

MS. UPRIGHT:

You tell me, Mr. Know It All.

MR. UNCONSCIOUS:

Four months, two weeks and--

MS. UPRIGHT:

Never mind! OK, it's been awhile but it's not my fault. Decided to give it up instead of hurting myself over and over. So there! Protecting myself from the real sharks. How do ya like that?

MR. UNCONSCIOUS:

(Signals for music to start up again. It revs up to speed.)

MS. UPRIGHT:

Stop it!

(Music slows down and stops.)

This is embarrassing. Especially the stuff you put out. It's perverse.

MR. UNCONSCIOUS:

Good christian family--loving and caring, hu?

MS. UPRIGHT:

They brought me up right. For my own good. How would you like it if your kids did embarrassing things!

MR. UNCONSCIOUS:

(Smiles broadly)

MS. UPRIGHT:

You would!

MR. UNCONSCIOUS:

(Music starts again. We here tap dancing off stage.)

Relax. Have fun.

MS. UPRIGHT:

Relax! Every time I have fun, I get in trouble.

(She looks off stage and sees the naked dancing men. She covers her eyes and turns front, facing the audience.)

Oh, God! I can't look.

(She peeks out at audience, as naked tap dancing men come on stage. They wear tap shoes, with socks, a bow tie. She speaks to the audience.)

You're looking!

(She gradually peeks and moves self-consciously as they dance to her and draw her back upstage.)

I don't believe this!

(She is standing rigid, but manages to peek behind the fan of one of the dancers.)

Ho. My goodness.

PREGNANT LADY:

(Enters, in advanced stage of labor, screaming and groaning.)

The baby's coming. Oh God. Take it out! Give me drugs. This is killing me.

DANCING MEN:

(While still tapping, they gather around the woman like they were the doctors and nurses to deliver the baby)

MS. UPRIGHT:

Pregnant! I'm pregnant? I'm over 40 years old, for god's sake!

MR. UNCONSCIOUS:

Try not to be so literal.

MS. UPRIGHT:

Oh, a metaphor! Thank God. Just a metaphor. OK, let's see. Is it the beginning of something new?

DANCING MEN:

(Act like charade team members, shaking their heads no and making strange signals like "Two syllables" sounds like, etc.)

MS. UPRIGHT:

No, then is it--oh, I never get these things--creativity??

DANCING MEN:

(NO, NO, more like--try again)

MS. UPRIGHT:

Is it--is it--nurturing mother love! I need more nurturing love.

DANCING MEN:

(Boo. WHAT?? Come on, now.)

MR. UNCONSCIOUS:

What did you see?

MS. UPRIGHT:

Is this a hint?

(Pacing now, in a frenzy to get it right)

I sure hope it's a hint, cause I haven't a clue.--I saw pain.

DANCING MEN:

(Encouraging her, she's getting warmer.)

MS. UPRIGHT:

Pain--ah--ok--Hurt. I've been hurt!

DANCING MEN:

(Collapse groaning)

MS. UPRIGHT:

That wasn't it! OK OK--I just don't know. So sue me!

(She sits down in slight fetal ball position, embarrassed and pouting.)

(A golden and green dragon with a small woman on her back runs in. The woman is hanging on for dear life.)

DRAGON:

Do you think you can manage me, little girl?

(Exit)

MS. UPRIGHT:

Leave me alone. They saw. They saw the whole thing.

(She hides her face from the audience.)

MR. UNCONSCIOUS:

(Beckons the next dream in, the pregnant lady and dancing men stay on stage, watching)

LITTLE GIRL:

(She drags out a huge box of toys and things all in a jumble and attempts to straighten it all out. It is a difficult task and hard work. She then brings out an old ugly fuzzy stuffed toy (Actor in animal suit) A Burro. She cuddles it and reassures it.)

Now you stay here and then pretty soon my Mommy and Daddy will come in and we'll ask them if you can stay here with me. They will be so happy when they see how good I cleaned up my room. And they will love you too.

BURRO:

(Joyful and expectant)

MS. UPRIGHT:

Stop!

(She stands up)

She's going to get hurt.

(Offstage we hear a door open)

Don't let them.

(Man in Tux quietly enters, as does shark, rowboat lady, etc.from stage right, watching. Ms. Upright moves near the little girl)

Wake up! Please. Hide. Do something.

(Little girl continues to look happily at stage left. Ms. Upright walks slowly toward Man in Tux who watches her quietly.)

Who are you? Please don't poison her.

(She goes to Uncle)

Help her, please. Do something.

(She comes full circle to Mr. Unconscious, downstage right.)

Please. Don't let this happen.

(Mom and Dad enter stage left, looking disapproving. Ms. Upright covers her eyes and sits down on one of the boxes.)

Please. Please. Please. Please. PLEASE.

(Each "please" is a little more angry and loud.)

MOM:

What is the matter with you? Keep this ugly thing? What is wrong with you?

(We hear echoes of "wrong with you")

DANCING MEN:

(Huddle together, ashamed of themselves.)

LITTLE GIRL:

(Slowly lets go of Burro, sadly and hangs her head.)

Yes. Momma.

MOM:

That's a good girl.

MR. UNCONSCIOUS:

(Approaches Ms. Upright who is sitting with her head hung in the same posture as the little girl.)

Well?

MS. UPRIGHT:

I hate you. You made this happen again.

MR. UNCONSCIOUS:

Nothing I can do about it.

MS. UPRIGHT:

You could! If you'd only try. You could.

MR. UNCONSCIOUS:

What? What could I do? It's all in the past. Suffocated in cement. Frozen in time.

MS. UPRIGHT:

You could change it--you're very imaginative.

MR. UNCONSCIOUS:

No can do.

MS. UPRIGHT:

(She sees the Man in Tuxedo now slowly approaching the little girl.)

No. Oh, no. Please.

(She stands up, uncertain)

Please, you must stop.

(Shark starts moving in, slowly)

You must stop.

(She moves closer.)

Stop!

(Man in Tux nearly touching the little girl)

Get your damn hands off her.

(She rushes at him. Everyone gasps. Tap dancers scurry for better cover)

MAN IN TUX:

What did you say?

MS. UPRIGHT:

I-ah--

MAN IN TUX:

(Turns and resumes march to little girl)

MS. UPRIGHT:

I can not let you hurt her.

(She looks over the assorted assembly quickly.)

Nanny. Stand between the girl and that man. Don't let him touch her.

NANNY:

(Does so.)

MAN IN TUX:

(Laughs)

I'm so afraid.

(Keeps moving)

MS. UPRIGHT:

Shark! Go for the hind quarters.

(Shark starts for her)

No. Not me! Him. Bite him. And Burro, kick him and rowboat lady, hit him with your oar and tap dancers dance all over him. Get him. Get him. Hurry.

(Frenzy as they all try to comply.They surround the guy and we hear dreadful fight sounds. Ms. Upright is hopping up and down, yelling orders.)

Ouch. Ouch.

(Everytime he gets it, she hurts, now she's limping and starts to notice the connection.)

Wait. Stop Stop.

(She turns to Mr. Unconscious)

Oh Ho. Now you tell me. Could have warned me.

(She goes over and sits between the Man in Tux and the Little Girl.)

Come here, dear.

(Little girl comes to her, afraid.)

I'm not going to hurt you. Not any more. Let's make up.

(Girl and Ms. Upright hug. She speaks then to Man in Tux.)

And you. We've got to talk. I can't keep this up anymore.

(She greets the others too. Big family reunion time.)

MR. UNCONSCIOUS:

(Sighs and relaxes)

About time. I thought I'd never get through. You are one stubborn woman.

MS. UPRIGHT:

I still think if you'd just spoken a little plain English, this would have happened years ago.

MR. UNCONSCIOUS:

Un hu.

MS. UPRIGHT:

(She helps pregnant lady up.)

And out of pain--and through pain--we bear new life.

MR. UNCONSCIOUS:

Simple, really. When you start to listen.

MS. UPRIGHT:

Ya. Simple. Dr. Eclectic? I'm ready to come back.

DOCTOR:

(Enters stage right, bending over the figure of Ms. Upright on the couch downstage. He does not know the dream characters exist.)

STEWARDESS:

(Enters, flipping her frog flippers loudly.)

We will now be ascending. The Captain requests you fasten your seat belts. Goodness. I'm going to have to charge you a good deal extra for all these additional passengers--is the shark necessary? He could swim outside, don't you think?

DOCTOR:

(Walks to stage left to look at something on his imaginary desk.)

MR. UNCONSCIOUS:

Allow me, my dear.

(He and Ms. Upright walk arm in arm to couch, the creatures all crowding around them, sightseeing at the wonders of conscious life.)

MS. UPRIGHT:

(She lies down, the dummy "Ms. Upright" gets slid behind or under couch. She sits up and walks over to Dr. Eclectic.)

Doctor.

DOCTOR:

(Startled)

My God. Have a care. Oh, Ms. Upright. This will not do. I haven't counted you up yet. You can't be out of trance.

MS. UPRIGHT:

Count, Doctor. Count.

DOCTOR:

One, two three. There. Well, well, I see you look fine.

MS. UPRIGHT:

We are all fine.

DOCTOR:

WE? Oh, dear. Dear. Dear. I may have created a multi-phasic personality disorder here. Do sit down. We are not at all well.

MS. UPRIGHT:

I'm fine. I want to thank you.

DOCTOR:

It was nothing, really--Thank me? Did something happen?

MS. UPRIGHT:

(Laughs, gets up, she and Mr. Unconscious twirl in a short waltz toward stage right exit.)

Good bye Doctor Eclectic.

(As she waltzes past characters, they wave good bye but have their collective eye on the Doctor.)

DOCTOR:

Yes. Yes. Goodbye. I hope the separation trauma is not to severe for you.--Goodness me.

(Dr. is now being surrounded by the dream characters and is staring Shark in the face.)

Oh, my goodness.

(He feels his forehead for signs of fever.)

I hope I'm not coming down with a psychotic episode.

(Sees the naked dancing men who are starting to rev up, tapping.)

Dear me. I need to lie down. Oh, Yes. Yes. That's it. Lie down.

(He lies on couch as the characters surround him, building up their activity.)

MS. UPRIGHT:

Sweet dreams, Doctor.

(Exits)

CURTAIN

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