Plain Old Lucy- Scene Two

Setting- O’Connell’s Pub in New York. The buyers, except Candy, are sitting at a long bar on stage left. There are a few tables stage center stage. Mr. Green is sitting by himself at one of the tables. There is a bartender behind the bar.

SUSIE

Where is our socialite? I called the office, and Lucy’s dimwit assistant said Candy’s last appointment was at 4:00.

DAVID

Relax, Susie. This is supposed to be team building time. Have some peanuts.

(Candy walks in with huge shopping bags. She’s dressed all in black with a pale pink knit cap.)

CANDY

The party’s on! I’m here!

SUSIE

Oh goody.

CANDY

Sorry. I wasn’t planning on shopping, but Angie told me about this sale at Macy’s and I couldn’t resist.

LUCY

Hi, Candy. How were your appointments?

(Everyone ignores Lucy’s question.)

DAVID

How was our fabulous buyer’s day in market?

CANDY

Fabulous, of course!

LUCY

I found some new jeans at Hot Jeans for the Back to School catalog. They have zippers on all the pockets.

SUSIE

I was at Hot Jeans looking at the Back to School sweaters. They showed them with some new zipper pocket jeans. I worked a great price with my friend Anna. Could be a great outfit for the catalog.

DAVID

Awesome, Susie! That’s what I’m talking about- teamwork! I’ll send Lucy over there tomorrow.

LUCY

Hey, I saw them first! Is anyone listening to me?

(No one reacts to Lucy’s protest. Instead they talk amongst themselves.)

(To herself) I can’t take this anymore. It’s like I don’t even exist! I wish I could be beautiful!

(She notices a man sitting in a booth. He looks at her, and beckons her over to him. Lucy hesitates, but gets up and joins him at his booth.)

Are you a jeans vendor? I’m with my buying team right now. I can’t really talk.

MR. GREEN

No, I work in a very different business. I came over when you called.

LUCY

Sir, I’ve been sitting with my co-workers. I haven’t used my phone since we arrived.

MR. GREEN

Oh I heard you loud and clear. Especially the part about your wish. Came straight away, I did.

LUCY

(embarrassed and confused) You heard my wish? That’s ridiculous. No one usually listens to me, well, except my assistant.

MR. GREEN

That’s where I come in, Miss Lucy. It’s my profession, you see. Granting wishes.

LUCY

How do you know my name? (She looks around the pub suspiciously.) Where are the cameras? Is this one of those makeover shows? Did Sean put you up to this?

MR. GREEN

(chuckling) Makeover? My services are much more powerful than hairstyling and makeup. My colleagues think I’m foolish to deal with humans, but I find it rewarding. I sell glamour.

LUCY

You’re a magazine editor? I don’t understand.

MR. GREEN

Long before fashion magazines, Brazilian blow outs, and mascara, I’ve been transforming women into irresistible beauties. Glamour doesn’t just change your looks- it changes how others look at you.

LUCY

You can change how other people look at me? Without a makeover? That doesn’t even make sense. Look, mister, there must be a catch. I’ve been a buyer too long to not recognize when something sounds too good to be true.

MR. GREEN

My customers are always satisfied with the results.

LUCY

(She sits and stares at Mr. Green. Then she looks over at her co-workers, who are deep in conversation and don’t even realize she’s gone. Then she turns back to Mr. Green.)

Even if I believe you, which I’m not sure that I do, how much does this “glamour” cost? My credit cards are all maxed out.

MR. GREEN

Not a problem, miss. I don’t want your money.

LUCY

How can I pay you then?

MR. GREEN

I always find that if customers really want your product, they’re willing to pay anything. You’re a healthy young woman. As short as human lives are, you still have at least 50-60 years ahead of you. All I require for payment is one year of your life. It’s a small price to pay for continual success and the adoration of everyone you meet. Even David will notice you.

LUCY

How do you know about David? (She looks over at David at the bar who is listening attentively to Candy.) One year of my life? What kind of a payment is that? Are you crazy or something? (She stands up.) I’m going back to my group. You’d better be gone before I rejoin them, or I’ve have the bartender throw you out.

MR. GREEN

Calm down, my dear Lucy. There’s no need to get worked up. You called me, after all. Sit down, and think this through. (She reluctantly sits back down.) I know this is a big decision. Take your time. Glamour is a big step. Think about what it would be like to the center of attention. How successful you could be. Everything you ever wanted- fame, romance, power.

LUCY

How would I put on this “glamour?” Do I need to drink something foul, or have an operation? I hate hospitals!

MR. GREEN

Relax! All I will need is a few strands of your hair.

LUCY

Hey, you’re not making a clone of me, are you?

MR. GREEN

(chuckling again) Don’t worry, my dear. I don’t believe in that test tube stuff! That magic’s too risky! Now, are you willing to pay my price, or are we done here? I’ve got other customers to see.

LUCY

(Still not really believing him, she pulls out a few strands of her hair and hands it to him.) Not sure I really believe you, but I’m just desperate enough to give you a chance. What’s one year anyway?

MR. GREEN

(He rubs the hair between his palms, mumbles a few words, and then extends his hands toward Lucy.) There, it’s done.

LUCY

But I don’t feel any different. (She pulls out a mirror out of her purse.) I look exactly the same! Are you a con man?

MR. GREEN

I’ve dealt sincerely with you, my dear. Go over and rejoin your friends. You will see the fruit of my labor.

LUCY

You’re a strange man, Mr… I don’t even know your name.

MR. GREEN

(rising to his feet and taking his hat) You can call me Mr. Green. I’ll be in touch.

(He leaves)

LUCY

(to herself as she walks back to the bar) Mr. Green, really? In an Irish pub? Sounds like some kind of faery alias or something. Why did I even talk to him?

(Suddenly, the rest of the buyers stop talking amongst themselves and turn to stare at Lucy like they have never seen her before.)

LUCY

(Feeling uncomfortable) Why are you guys staring at me? Is there something on my face? (She starts rubbing her face.)

DAVID

Excuse me. I didn’t mean to stare. May I ask you to join us?

LUCY

(sarcastically) Very funny, guys. I’m plain old Lucy, remember? The one you always ignore?

CANDY

(Surprised) Lucy? Wow! What a makeover! You look as fabulous as me!

SUSIE

(With respect) There’s something different about you. Not only the way you look, but there’s a fierceness about you. No vendor would have a chance against those piercing eyes.

LUCY

(To herself) Mr. Green was right. (To the others) Come on, everybody. It’s still the same old me. You’re just seeing me differently, that’s all.

DAVID

Please join us! We were just talking about the Back to School catalog. We’d all like to hear your ideas.

(Fade to black)

July 30, 2015 0

Plain Old Lucy- A Modern Faery Tale

Here is the first scene from my one act play about deals with faeries:

Scene 1

Setting: the buying offices of Lucky 17. Grey cubicles, open side to the audience, separate the buyers from each other, but when they stand up, they can see each other. When the characters are talking to each other, they are standing up, and when they are talking to themselves and the audience they sit down. Inside the cubicles, there are desks, chairs, and computers. Each cubicle also has a rolling rack with samples of clothing on it, except Candy, who has purses and belts hanging on hers.

The scene opens with all the buyers in place, all on their phones. From stage right to stage left you have Candy, Susie, Lucy and Sean, and then David. David’s desk is fancier than the others.

SUSIE

(On the phone) I don’t care if there was a labor uprising, the boat sunk in the harbor, and there was no paperwork at the dock for customs! Those tees better be in my warehouse by tomorrow morning at 7 am or the entire three orders are cancelled! (She listens for a reply) And stop that whimpering! I’m running a business, not a support group! (She slams down the phone)

CANDY

(On the phone) You’re so funny, Angie! I want to place a reorder on those earrings. I sold them out in the first week. Of course, that’s not surprising- I told you they would be hot! (She listens) You can ship them today? That’s so cool! (She listens) Of course I’d LOVE to see that new musical when we are in New York this Friday. I thought no one could get tickets. (She listens) Front row center- how awesome! See you Friday then, bye bye honey. (She hangs up, jumps up and does a happy dance)

(To Susie, standing up looking over the cubicle) Guess what, Susie?

SUSIE

(Standing up to look over the cubicle, with a sigh) What now, Candy? You dyed your poodle purple again?

CANDY

No, it’s better than that! Angie from Angie’s Things is taking me to see that new musical when we’re in New York this week! Isn’t that crazy?

SUSIE

Personally, anyone who would choose to associate with you in public would have to be crazy.

CANDY

You’re just a crabby kitty because your catalog order is late.

SUSIE

It’s not my fault! Those importers we use are idiots! They can’t even keep their workers under control for one important order. I’m never buying anything from them again.

LUCY

(Standing up to join their conversation) Maybe you should check into the source I found for jeans. I know they have a knit line that seems well priced.

(They totally ignore her and go back to work)

CANDY

Hey Susie, maybe you should check out the source Lucy found for jeans. They also have a knit line that looks cute and well-priced.

LUCY

(Sits down in frustration) That’s what I just said. They never listen to me.

SEAN

Ignore them, Lucy. You don’t need to do their work for them.

LUCY

I know, but I’ve worked here for 5 years, longer than Candy, and I know things! My jeans business has been decent. I just wish someone would notice me.

SEAN

By someone, you really mean David.

LUCY

Shhh! Sean, not too loud. His desk is right over there. Of course, I’d love to have a real conversation with our boss, who wouldn’t?

(David walks in, papers in hand, purposely.)

DAVID

Attention everyone! Here are your plane tickets and hotel confirmations for New York. Tuesday morning we’re meeting at the fashion office at 8 am sharp, no excuses. Make sure you bring your fall plans and assortments. (He passes out papers to each of the buyers.) Also, there is a mandatory meeting at O’Connell’s Pub at 6 pm.

CANDY

What fun! But what if I already have plans for dinner?

DAVID

I know you have a very busy social life, Candy, but our team needs some bonding time. After 8 you’re free to do as you wish.

SUSIE

I’m not sure I want to be bonded to anyone on this team.

CANDY

Don’t be a party pooper! It sounds like fun. Lisa from Tinkles told me that O’Connell’s is an “in”place right now. An old-fashioned tavern with gourmet food, all the right people will be there.

LUCY

It will be great to hang out with each other outside of work.

(They all ignore her.)

CANDY

It will be great to hang out with you guys outside of work!

DAVID

That’s the spirit, Candy! You’re our Lucky 17 cheerleader!

SUSIE

(sarcastically) Go team go!

LUCY

(sitting down and talking only to Sean) Everything I say- someone else gets the credit for it!

SEAN

Now, now Lucy- you’re getting upset over nothing.

LUCY

What about the pencil jeans from last year’s Back to School catalog? I found them first, but Susie brought in the sample to the catalog meeting. Everyone was so excited that David demanded that I order 5000 pairs. They sold out to the last pair at regular price!

SEAN

Well, that was your idea first, but it all worked out, didn’t it?

LUCY

And what about the corduroy jeans for the Christmas catalog? I wanted to shoot the pink color for the cover. I tried to convince everyone but no one listened. Then Candy showed her pink knit scarf at the Monday meeting, and David asked for the pink corduroys to shoot with her scarf.

SEAN

But those are only isolated incidents. Come on, Lucy. You are a talented buyer. No one can take that away from you. If people don’t listen to you, they just don’t know what they are missing.

LUCY

They don’t listen to me because I don’t stand out, that’s all. I am plain and boring. My ugliness prevents everyone from noticing me.

SEAN

If you were really that hideous, I think they would notice. You’re beautiful, in your own unique way. They just don’t take time to really see you.

LUCY

I’m not even remarkably ugly! I wish I was as glamorous as Candy, and or as assertive as Susie- then David would notice me!

SEAN

I’d be careful what you wish for, my friend. Wishes have an awful way of coming true.

(Black out)

July 28, 2015 0

Rain in the Mirror (A College of the Crones short story)

Boom! Unexpected thunder caused Yvette to jump, resulting in a black line down her cheek.

“Sunne, you’ve ruined my makeup!” she shouted at her crone servant who had been carefully outlining her eyes with a black stick.

“So sorry, my lady, but you moved,” the hunched over, wrinkled old woman insisted as she carefully sponged off the errant line. A flash of lightning blinded them both for a moment.

“I hate thunder storms,” Yvette complained for the tenth time that day. She sighed and fidgeted with her corset. Her reflection in the large mirror on the wall behind her dressing table showed a beautiful young woman being tended by an ugly old woman. In the land of Beautiful, unmarried women over the age of eighteen transformed into hideous crones. But Alfred rescued me from that fate. Her marriage was prerequisite to buying the tonic. But the beauty she saw reflected in her face became marred on days such as this one.

Rain made her life impossible. Her sleek, waist length hair became fuzzy and resistant to the straightening iron. Her face powder clotted into lumps, and her eyeliner refused to dry properly. And that was just getting dressed! Getting into her carriage was an ordeal. Carpets had to be laid from her doorstep to the carriage. Two crone servants had to carry a canopy held up with rods to cover her as she walked outside. One servant walked behind her, lifting up Yvette’s skirts so they didn’t brush against the wet steps. When they finally arrived at the prince’s castle, the canopy came out again as she carefully walked down the carpets provided by the prince’s staff. Dressing rooms just inside the castle provided a final chance to check makeup and hair. A great deal of trouble, even for the prince’s parties.

“You are finished, my lady,” the crone announced as she stepped back to admire her work. Even though the beauty tonic changed Yvette’s appearance, most of the wives felt that makeup and hair styling were still required. The wife twirled around in her dress, a pale pink blossom of lace and satin. She checked to make sure her golden combs holding back her perfectly straight hair were tight enough. She inspected the tiny pink flowers fastened into the braids using her mirror. Upon her long neck were displayed a set of perfectly matched pearls. Her mouth smirked back at her as she remembered her husband’s uncomfortableness when she received the necklace as a gift from the prince. With a nod to herself, she smoothed down her full skirt and reached for the lace gloves offered to her by her crone servant.

“Not a moment to spare,” Yvette grumbled as she swished out of the room. Sunne replaced the lids on the makeup jars and put them away in the jewel encrusted box on the dressing table. Her stiff curled fingers made the task more difficult than it should. Carefully, she hung the other dresses that had been rejected by her mistress back into the large closet that adjoined the dressing room. Then she walked to the large ceiling to floor window, opening one shutter to glance out at the storm.

Swirling in the wind, the trees surrounding the manor house seemed to hold their vivid green leaves up to gather the drops. The rose garden below her washed their red, yellow, and orange heads in the shower. Gleaming white, the crumbled stone driveway looked like snow. “The rain renews the earth,” she said out loud to no one. No one listened to a crone.

Another grumble of thunder hailed her from the distance. She counted to ten before the answering flash of lightning. The storm was almost past them now. Even though her life was dedicated to service, her mistress sometimes irked her with her petulance. Rain brings beauty. Not the false beauty provided by the tonic, but the real beauty of life. The God Who Really Sees gives rain freely to those who thirst.

July 21, 2015 0

The Dragon of Doubt

The hardest part of being an unpublished writer is the doubt. Even though you may try to surround yourself with your companions (spouse, coworkers, friends, writing groups) eventually you must face it alone.

A writer must be as brave as a knight on a quest. Stories are adventures, but the greatest adventures contain dragons and trolls. That’s why writers wear armor and carry big swords. Every time I sit down at my computer, I am ready to do battle.

In the middle of an early chapter, a huge Doubt Dragon swoops down on me. “Hey, I’m trying to work here!” is the sharp edge of my sword that bounces off the dragon’s diamond scales. “But you’ve never published the first book! You’re wasting your time!” the creature roars, its fiery breath scorching my cheek with truth.

Desperately, I glance down at my armor for strength. The plays I’ve written and performed for over 1,100 children are reflected in my breastplate. The chain mail peeking out from the joints remind me that my story is worthy. My helmet whispers that my story must be told, in my way.

The Dragon regards me with hesitation. I have not fled in terror. I cannot. For I have not chosen to be a writer- writing has chosen me. With renewed strength, I thrust my sword once more, this time piercing the creature’s critical eye. With a piercing scream, the Dragon beats its wings raggedly and flies away.

Victorious once again, I return to my work. After I clean my weapon, of course.

July 13, 2015 2

Why aren’t there any happy endings anymore?

Reading into the wee hours by Kindle light, I finally reach the end, and close the book, unsatisfied.

As writers strive in the most graphic fashion to portray the sadistic underbelly of our society, I find it difficult to keep reading to the last page. Any chance of any character enjoying a lasting relationship is tossed over the railing and dashed on the concrete below. On more than one occasion, I have stopped a few chapters into a book and deleted it from my Kindle because the author has failed to provide me any thread of empathy for their tortured, misguided characters. I simply don’t care whether the main character finds the revenge or closure that he seeks, knowing that he will undoubtably implode before he learns anything about life.

In the tales I favor evil abounds, but it follows rules that allow the amateur hero to navigate through his quest, wounded but wiser for his experiences. Happy endings are earned by the pure of heart. There is peace after the conflict. Although some may call me romantic, I often find that this is the true rhythm of life. “To everything there is a season…”

Real life can be bleak enough. We cut flowers to sit in vases in our homes, bringing the riotous color of nature into our beige kitchens. For me, it is the same with novels. Even if my path is not colorful and fragrant, the book I cuddle up with in my bed should at least satisfy me with characters that set the world right and live to toast it with their comrades.

I long for a happy ending.

May 19, 2015 0