OUR BLACK DEATH (excerpt) by Lindsay Carpenter by 3Views on Theater

Our Black Death by Lindsay Carpenter – Excerpt Two women—Frol and Bit—are close, kissing. Frol addresses the audience as Bit continues to kiss her—Bit can’t hear Frol. FROL She smells—like we all do—like horse shit. (a kiss) But somehow, on her—with that other smell, her body’s smell, her hair’s smell—she smells good. She smells like want— (Another kiss as Bit steals her back) I’ve wanted her since I was a child. Since before I knew what that type of want was. Wanted to hold her hand, rest against her, close my eyes and listen to her, touch her— Bit breaks away. They stop kissing. Bit is tense, listening. FROL (whispered to audience) We’re not supposed to do this. They don’t hear anything and nonchalantly resume kissing. FROL (to audience) There’s a...rancid sweetness, a warmth, to her smell. She smells like Bit. (clarifying) She’s Bit. (a kiss) Bit was a choice. Loving her has been a choice. I think, until now, until the blue sickness, the black death, it was the only choice I ever made. Bit breaks away. BIT I have to go, I have to get back. FROL Stay. BIT I can’t. FROL Another hour—

BIT Shit. How long’s it been? FROL Come on. BIT The sun’s almost down, I have to get home… They make out. Finally, Bit extricates herself, putting distance between them. BIT You’re dangerous. FROL I can be. BIT Oswyn will wonder where I am. FROL Let him wonder. BIT I have to go. Frol stands in front of the door and stops her. Again, Bit succumbs. Then— BIT Stop. Come on. Let me go. FROL No, not until I’m done with you. BIT You’re never done with me. FROL Then I guess you’re never leaving. Frol entrances Bit with more kisses—Offstage, a man sneezes and coughs, miserably. Bit freaks out. BIT (a whisper)

William’s here? FROL It’s ok. BIT He’s been here the whole time? FROL It’s fine. BIT He could’ve heard us, he could’ve walked in— The coughing turns to hacking. The sound is hideous. Offstage, the man gasps, then chokes. The women listen. It becomes louder. A hacked and stuttering cough, followed by a heartbreaking sob. The man emits a loooooong groan. Pure agony. Understanding dawns on Bit. BIT He has it? FROL He has it. BIT So, he’ll be dead... FROL In three days. We don’t have to hide from him anymore. Frol tries to return to making out. The coughing gets worse. BIT Is he in pain? FROL He’s dying. BIT Is he hungry? I can help— FROL I’ve stopped feeding him, I don’t want to waste the food. BIT

But what if he would’ve lived— FROL No one lives. You get sick, you die. It’s simple. Offstage, the man makes a really terrible noise. Part gurgle and part choking. Long and loud. And then he is very silent. For a long time. Bit and Frol wait, listening. BIT Do you think he’s dead? FROL He fell asleep. They listen. Silence. BIT Should we check on him? FROL No. I’ll go in later, wrap him in a cloth, drop him on the doorstep to get picked up. BIT You don’t seem sad. FROL Why would I be sad? BIT He’s dying. Have you cried? FROL Did you cry when your uncle died? Or when your mother died? Or when your brothers all died in the same two days? BIT Yes. FROL Oh. I haven’t cried. BIT For any of them?

Frol shrugs. She tries to go back to making out. BIT We can’t… FROL What’s he going to do? Walk in on us? That would require walking. Standing. Rolling over. Firmly, Frol pulls Bit to her. BIT Your husband is in the other room. FROL (a seduction) My husband is dying. They kiss. Deep. Long. A loud, bellowing scream echoes form the other room, but they ignore it. --Frol and Lovesick Lady (LL)—another peasant—are mid-conversation. Frol can’t believe what she’s hearing. LL ………. FROL ………. LL ……… FROL …..You ate it? LL Yeah. FROL Like, swallowed it? LL Yeah.

FROL ………… LL ………… FROL …….. What did it taste like? LL Blood. FROL Just normal blood? LL I don’t eat a lot of blood. FROL Did you…chew his… (tries to say it, can’t) (tries to say it. can’t) (tries to say it. can’t) Pubic hair. LL No. It wasn’t that bad. FROL ………… LL ……… FROL ……….. LL It wasn’t. FROL Have you talked to him—? Wait. How did you get his hair? LL What do you mean?

FROL I mean how do you get the pubic hair of a guy you’re not sleeping with? LL …….. FROL …….. LL Everyone sleeps. FROL No. LL I haven’t talked to him yet. FROL Did you pluck it? LL I’m scared it won’t work. FROL Or shave it? LL And then I did all this, swallowed that concoction, for nothing. FROL How did he not wake up? LL I didn’t use to believe in spells, but then I found that book and— FROL And your first spell worked— LL Infinite wine. FROL And the second one—

LL The priest’s ankle broke… FROL So this will work too. LL I guess so. I hope so… FROL How much was it? How much hair? LL indicates a quantity. About the size of a fist. FROL Were you already on your period— LL No, I had to wait for the blood. FROL You should talk to him. I want to know if the love spell worked. The Man appears. He’s unextraordinary but has a great hat. The women stop talking. LL indicates the hat. Frol approves its long feather. The Man does not appear to notice them. They watch him wash his hands at the well next to them. LL can’t breathe. They watch him fill up a jug with water. LL grasps Frol’s arm tightly. He begins to walk away. LL is heartbroken. He stops. She gasps. But he’s only noticed a stone, he picks it up. LL is heartbroken. He begins to walk away. LL studies her hands, she’s given up. The Man stops. He turns and stares at LL, no eyes for Frol. Frol notices, but distraught LL doesn’t. He stares at LL, enraptured. Frol nudges LL. LL pushes her back, then sees the Man. She sees the Man and he sees her. LL indicates to herself. Me? The Man indicates to himself. Me? Together the two breathe in. Exhale. They run to each other. He sweeps her into an elaborate dip kiss, hidden from audience view by his hat. Frol watches, very surprised. The kiss is looooong. The kiss ends. They adjust their clothes. He gives her his hat. She kisses it. She gives him her hand, he kisses it. He backs out, complete eye contact until he is offstage. LL puts on the hat.

Frol clears her throat. LL (lost) I think it worked. --FROL The first thing I lit on fire were his clothes. They say the flames can get rid of the disease. Quarantine and all that. It didn’t matter, since my husband had been sick our house was contaminated, I’ll get sick soon. If not from him, if not right now, then from someone else. There’s some relief in that. I don’t remember when I’d last stopped to breathe. There was always something to worry about. I always had to fit in, blend in, avoid detection in order to keep Bit and I safe. I was afraid of dying—that they’d find us, hurt us, hurt her. There are a lot of ways you can die as a peasant—if it snows, if it’s hot, if you starve, if you talk too loudly, if you get noticed, if you get trampled by a horse, if you get whipped, if you’re injured, if your husband doesn’t like you… The second thing I lit on fire was his foot. I spend so much of my time bent over cauldrons trying not to get burnt. Brewing beer, making stew, heating water to wash sheets. So many times I wasn’t paying attention and got burned. It turns out it’s hard to make a foot catch fire. I tried his toe, but it just burned his skin. Smelled horrible. So I tried his leg. His pants caught fire. It was easy after that. The fourth thing I lit was his hair. It’s a familiar smell, burning hair. The house was warm now, finally, after a winter of devastating cold, my husband had finally managed to warm me. I think I like the smell of burning hair. It’s beautiful, fire. Mesmerizing. She watches the fire burn.

FROL It’s going to be us soon. It has to be us soon. Why would we get to live? And if I only get a moment, a year, a day before that happens to me, I want her with me for it. I want fire and I want laughter and I want her every day, every second until I’m gone.