Cul-de-sac Page 5
SAMUEL
Fine then. All we’d have to do is get together as a group and make a kind of proposal to the city and ask that they remove the rather foreboding “Dead End” sign which announces the street and have them replace it with the far more pleasant “Cul-de-sac.”
Light shift.
MADISON
Cul-de-sac means “arse of the bag.” You probably knew that. But Leonard didn’t. And so I pointed it out, at the Christmas party. In front of everybody. And they all laughed. And Leonard got embarrassed and so I called him a “knob” and he hated that because he knew that was the worst thing to be. So he hit me. Not hard, just like you’d do to a friend, just like a slap, just like that, on the arm, just like you would with your friend. But it’s not the kind of thing you do to a kid in a room full of knobs, especially when the kid’s father is there. And Ken goes ballistic. “Take your hands off my daughter.” “My daughter.” He got all dad-like, which he never did. So I played it up a bit. “Owww.” It didn’t really hurt and Leonard knew it didn’t. And sometimes when you lie and someone knows you’re lying, and if in the moment of the lie you don’t look at the person who knows you’re lying it sometimes makes it hard to ever look at them again. Ken’s not a son of a bitch all the time. One thing was: after Leonard died I kept getting upset every time I looked at the hedge so I asked him to get rid of it and my dad went out and dug it up. That was nice.
And the balsawood astronaut has his first mission to space—his mission to Jupiter—and all systems are go and the engines fire and the rocket is launched but he never made it to Jupiter because as soon as he left the earth’s atmosphere he burnt up into ash— because he was just made of balsawood ...
When I heard the sound it didn’t sound scary to me. I thought it might have been Whiskers ... Or I thought maybe Leonard got lucky.
Light —sound shift.
ERIC
He did cunt. Spin it Mister Bitch, (bar/dance music) You looking for some entertainment? How about some Eric-tainment! And that’s a little bit of this. And a little bit of this. And a whole lot of this. Turn it up Mister Bitch. Yeah. You want it? You want it? Then you’re going to have to pay for it because Eric is prime rib, Eric is prime time, Eric is primo fucking real estate. Yes! Eric is the boy who put the Drive Shaft on the map and the party’s just starting. Cut it Mister Bitch, (music shift) Welcome to the Drive Shaft—the centre of the Universe—yeah for big fags and fag hags and bar rags. You want me now? You want me now? Sorry I’m busy—you go talk to Mister Bitch—he’ll do you for ten bucks and give you change. Unless you want him to take his teeth out. That’s fifteen. Mister Bitch is a genius with his teeth out. (shows tattoo) You know what that is? You know what that is? It’s chink for fuck you.
See this watch? (takes watch out of his pocket and puts it on) See this watch man! This is my watch, this is my fucking watch. I fucking earned this watch. And I name the price and I set the time and when that buzzer goes I’m gone with the cash and if you’re not done you can finish yourself off that’s your fucking business. I earned this fucking watch man. The sad old fag, the end of the night he’s digging and digging and he pulls out twenty-five bucks. Fuck? What? Twenty-five bucks? (Note: this number should reflect the top ticket price the audience paid for Cul-de-sac.) What’s that? Half a bag of shitty crystal and a box of Smarties. Fuck that shit. Give me your twenty-five bucks and your fucking watch and a take that—
Hit me in the stomach, hit me in the stomach, hit me in the stomach as hard as you can. That’s the old man. I’m like this. (indicates: small) He’s like this, (indicates: big) Hit me in the stomach, hit me in the stomach, hit me in the stomach, hit me in the stomach. So I’m wailing on him I’m wailing on him. He doesn’t budge and he’s laughing and he hauls off and lets me have it—across the room and out the door and I’m gone. I learned my lesson man, I only had to learn once. He wasn’t even my real old man he was just banging my old lady. Old lady MacDonald’s. Whore. Billions served. Whore. What the fuck are you looking at?
Here’s how it works: no touching, no kissing, no pictures, no video, I keep my boots on, you suck it, you pay me a hundred bucks, I’m gone. Works for me. And I’m telling my fucking girlfriend—if that’s what the fags want no skin off my bag—hey fuck I bring home three four bills every night— what the fuck does she want: “Hey I hear you’re back at the 7-11—Oh yeah it’s great. I even get to wear a uniform!” And flipping burgers and driving your fucking car around the block and valet parking it up your fucking ass. Here’s your fucking keys man.
No way man they’re lining up for me here. But not for long man, this is not my home, I’m just passing through. I’ve got a future. Adult films. This fat fuck from San Francisco, couple of weeks ago I’m sitting on his face for a couple of hours, after he tells me I’ve got a future in adult films. You bet your fucking boots I do, but I’m going to need two credits: one for me and one for Mister Perfect. Yeah you fucking love me, yeah you fucking love me, liar. I see you I see you. I see the sad old fag—I see him all night sitting in the shadows until he gets drunk enough. He comes up he’s all: “Hi I’m Leonard.” Yeah Hi I’m Fuck You. What do you want. “Come on back, come on back, come on back to the cul-de-sac.” “Yeah yeah yeah, in a minute man—it’s only one—we got an hour to last call. Buy me a beer man buy me a beer."
“I’ve got beer I’ve got beer back at the cul-de-sac. Come on back come on back come on back to the cul-de-sac.” All right all right then man all right, then buy a couple of bags.
We go, we go we go back to the cul-de-sac. Fuck that shit, cul this fucking sac man I know a dead end when I see one man my sheet’s full of them. Fuck! (rubbing his sinus) What do they cut this shit with man! Oh fuck—that’s why you’re not seeing my sweet side tonight. I got a sweet side. I’ve got my sad story man, it’s not easy for a little guy, it’s not easy for an orphan, fuck, excuse my language, but everything’s going to be all right, going ot be all right. Goddamn Catholic church man—they’ve got a whole hell of a lot to answer for—if I ever see that priest again man—bastard. Oh yeah you suckers love that shit. No, no sad stories here. Okay one. This one. Rugby man. Rugby! Would have been a star. Rugby. You should have seen me—but this pussy country’s all hockey. Fuck. What’s that—blades on your feet padding padding padding stick in your hand padding padding padding helmet. No way. Rugby. A pair of shoes a pair of shorts and bring it on!
Hit me in the stomach as hard as you can, hit me in the stomach as hard as you can.
Leonard lays out two lines I do them both. What does he care all he wants is Mister Perfect. I’m waiting on my beer man. Where’s my beer? Fucking schnapps what? Fucking Crown Royale what? Where’s the fag? In the kitchen chopping up fruit. I didn’t say I wanted a fucking salad man. He brings me this shitty spic piss. I don’t want fucking fruit in my beer. Where’s the fag now? He’s in the kitchen making me eggs. I said I didn’t want a salad. This fucker’s making me eggs. I don’t want eggs. He’s handing me a plate of eggs. I don’t want fucking eggs.
ERIC moves as if to smash the plate. SOUND: plate hits the wall.
And the plate hits the wall. The plate makes this beautiful little dent in the perfect blue wall. This beautiful little perfect little slice in the wall. Perfect blue. All these fucking books. What’s in all these books man? Are there that many words to make all these books. After a while they must all just sound the same. And then he’s showing me this other book—with all these weird drawings, of like space men and babies and shit. He he’s saying “I took it but it’s not stealing right, she was going to burn it, I saved it, it’s not stealing, I saved it from the fire, it’s not stealing if you save it from the fire.” You saved it from the fire yeah. This fag’s fucked man. And all these faces all over the walls looking at me, eyeballing me, can you turn those faces around man. Now the fag wants me to dance. I danced all night man. No he wants me to dance with him. He puts on this toodle oodle oodle fag music. And he starts “I love you I love you.” Shut u
p with that shit man. “I love you I love you.” Hey look just give me my money. Give me my money, yeah yeah I’ll stay just I want to settle up now. And the fucker’s digging and he comes up with twenty-five bucks. Twenty fucking five bucks. Keep digging man. But that’s fucking it twenty-five fucking bucks. This is my fucking night man. Give me the fucking twenty-five bucks and your watch and ... And he’s still coming at me. “I love you I love you.” Get fucking off me man. “I love you.” No you don’t shut up. “I love you I love you.” Shut up shut up shut up. And he’s still coming at me. What do they cut this shit with man. He’s got me backed up into the kitchen. Shut up. I love you I love you I love you. Shut up (stab) Shut up (stab) Shut up shut up shut up shut up (stab stab stab stab) Shut up. (kick) Liar, (kick) Shut up. (kick kick kick) Shut up (hit “stereo”: sound out). Shut up.
Sh sh sh sh man. Cool down. Cool down man. Sh sh. I gotta go. Cool down man. Okay man I gotta go. Okay you got five minutes. I’m setting the timer look. Two-oh-one. You got five minutes so just let me know what you want. Five minutes.
LEONARD
He doesn’t know what to do. He paces around. He sits on the sofa for a moment. He gets up. He crosses the room and opens the window to get some air. 2:02.
ERIC
Okay man I haven’t got all night so you just let me know. What do you want. I’ve got places to be. Sh man sh.
LEONARD
He goes up stairs and takes a pee. He goes into the bedroom and sits on the bed with his head in his hands. He comes back downstairs. 2:03.
ERIC
You want some music or something man. You want some music on the stereo. I’ll put some music on okay.
LEONARD
He puts some music on the stereo. He paces around me lying on the floor. He thinks about sitting me up but he doesn’t want to get blood on his clothes. 2:04.
ERIC
Hurry up. Ticker’s talking man ticker’s talking. I’ll do you then, you want I’ll do you. Just roll over. Shit.
LEONARD
He goes back upstairs. He pees again. He takes a small clay mask off the wall in the bathroom and puts it in his pocket. He goes back downstairs and stands over me. 2:05.
ERIC
Man, stop that man. Stop making that noise man. Stop it. Stop making that noise. Stop it, shut up. Shut up. (kick)
LEONARD
I shut up.
The watch alarm goes off.
ERIC
(looking at the watch) 2:06 man. Time’s up. Gotta go.
LEONARD
And he left. Don’t worry he didn’t get away. They caught him. Evidence, (takes off watch and puts it in his pocket) And I didn’t love him. Please. Where did that come from. I mean sometimes a person gets overwhelmed with ... memory or ... I didn’t love him. I mean maybe I said it but just because you say it doesn’t mean you mean it. Or for God’s sake I was blind drunk. It wasn’t about love anyway it was about twenty-five bucks.
But you know what is interesting? I’m lying on the floor dying, and you know how they say your life flashes before your eyes? No, not me. I just kept thinking, “Yes.” Yes. I’m lying there on the floor, dying, and saying no and thinking. Yes. “Yes.” “Yes, this is right.” “This is right.” “This is how my story is supposed to end.” “Finally I’m on the right page.” All those years trying to tell somebody else’s story, telling the story I thought I was supposed to be telling and it didn’t matter because this is my ending and this is right. This is how my story is supposed to end.
I mean, maybe my ending would have been different if I’d tried harder to like hockey.
But only in that I still would have ended up murdered by a prostitute, the only difference would have been she would have been wearing heels.
You can call it what you like, you can fancy up the neighbourhood but any way you look at it life is still a dead end street.
Music.
I don’t really believe that. I just said it because it kind of wrapped things up. It sounded sort of smart. There I go, still trying to be sophisticated. I just don’t want to stop talking, because once I stop talking then it’s over and you hardly got to know me. Well I guess you got kind of a picture. And if a picture’s worth a thousand words, what’s a song worth? Twenty-five bucks?
(he sings) If you see my love
Please don’t forget to
Tell him that I’m sorry
He ever met you
And we do know why
But do we care how
Now it’s done we’re all
Somehow happy now.
But I keep going back
Though I know I’m run through
See I stall when I fall into
Such a big and happy sadness this
Is this my wake up kiss.
He holds the lighter aloft and lights it. He tries to grab the flame.
End.
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Copyright Information
Copyright © 2005 Daniel MacIvor
Foreword copyright © 2005 by Daniel Brooks
Talonbooks
P.O. Box 2076, Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada V6B 3S3
www.talonbooks.com
Second Printing: November 2005
Cover design by Adam Swica
The publisher gratefully acknowledges the financial support of the Canada Council for the Arts; the Government of Canada through the Book Publishing Industry Development Program; and the Province of British Columbia through the British Columbia Arts Council for our publishing activities.
No part of this book, covered by the copyright hereon, may be reproduced or used in any form or by any means—graphic, electronic or mechanical—without prior permission of the publisher, except for excerpts in a review. Any request for photocopying of any part of this book shall be directed in writing to Access Copyright (The Canadian Copyright Licensing Agency), 1 Yonge Street, Suite 1900, Toronto, Ontario, Canada M5E 1E5; Tel.:(416) 868-1620; Fax:(416) 868-1621.
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Cataloguing data available from Library and Archives Canada
ISBN: 978-0-88922-807-8