B-Sides: Track Eleven

B-Sides: Track Eleven

A Stage Play by Kevin
"

Scene Eleven of Eleven. "A twenty-seven year old despondent writer and a sixteen year old musician form a profound attachment to each other through their love of David Bowie."

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TRACK ELEVEN

[Josh is standing on the stage with the lights on him. More lights come up to reveal Sarah standing in the room with him.]

                   JOSH

Sarah, we need to talk.

                   SARAH

What is it?

                   JOSH

I just got off the phone with Clive’s father.

                   SARAH

No.

                   JOSH

He’s gone, Sarah.

                   SARAH

Don’t say that.

                   JOSH

He’s dead.

                   SARAH

What happened?

                   JOSH

He was in a hotel room in Moscow, and the…the maid found him in the tub. He had…

                   SARAH

Don’t…

[She sits down. Wiping the beginnings of tears from her eyes.]

[Pause]

     JOSH

Did you find the check he left you?

                   SARAH

Yeah.

JOSH

How much was on it?

                   SARAH

Thirty.

                   JOSH

Thousand?

                   SARAH

Yeah.

                   JOSH

I had no idea he was sitting on that kind of money.

                   SARAH

Neither did I.

JOSH

I knew this would happen.

                   SARAH

We both did, we tried to help him.

                   JOSH

I know. I know that. It’s just…Jesus Christ, what an a*****e.

              [Pause]

                   SARAH

How was his father doing?

                   JOSH

He seemed pretty calm. Considering…

              [Pause]           

SARAH

What happens now?

                   JOSH

He’s gonna have to fly up to identify the body.

                   SARAH

So it could not be him, right? They could be mistaken, it could be someone else-

                   JOSH

It’s him.

                   SARAH

So, does his father fly back down with his body? We never get to see him again?

                    JOSH

Actually, I talked to him about it, and we both agreed that he should be cremated and brought back here.

                   SARAH

For what?

                   JOSH

Clive always wanted…he always wanted, if he died, to have the urn with his ashes in it tied to a brick and tossed over the side of the Golden Gate. He said he wanted all his family and friends to, whenever they see that bridge, to think of him.

                   SARAH

He would say something like that.

                   JOSH

Right? Always the writer. Everything was f*****g poetry to him and he…he never…

              [Josh’s composure breaks and he bursts into sobs]

I couldn’t…I couldn’t save him, Sarah. I tried to save him…and I couldn’t.

               [Sarah gets up to comfort Josh.]

                   SARAH

You did everything you could. You know you did. He made his choice; we have to respect that.

                   JOSH

I hate him so much.

                   SARAH

Clive wouldn’t want us getting upset over him, especially not you. You were his best friend. He loved you. Okay?

                   JOSH

Okay.

SARAH

He’s in a better place right now. He was having such a hard time, but now…he’s not hurting anymore. He’s free.

              [Josh composes himself again.]

                   JOSH

You’re right.

                   SARAH

So what do we do now?

                   JOSH

I’ll start calling people who knew him in college. They should probably know. People he worked with also. I’ll just say that he passed, not that he…

                   SARAH

What about Mayya?

                   JOSH

F**k, I completely forgot. Jesus, I don’t think I have the heart to tell her.

SARAH

I’ll go with you.

                   JOSH

You don’t have to.

                   SARAH

No, I should go. She should know what happened.

[The lights fade on them and go up on Mayya, sitting downstage playing Josh’s brother’s acoustic guitar. She plays Bowie’s Rock’n’Roll Suicide. Tears stream down her cheeks.]

                   MAYYA

“Time takes a cigarette, puts it in your mouth

You pull on your finger, then another finger, then your cigarette

The wall-to-wall is calling, it lingers, then you forget

Oh, oh, oh, oh, you’re a rock’n’roll suicide”

 

[As Mayya plays the song, the lights come on upstage to reveal a man, sitting at a table by himself, nursing a drink, with his head in his hands. Clive slowly walks in. He pulls a photograph out of his back pocket then looks at the man. He approaches the table and sits opposite him. Out of his jacket pocket, Clive produces a folder and hands it to the man. Suspiciously, the man takes the folder. He peers into it and looks back at Clive in shock. Clive leans in to inform the man about the contents of the folder.]

 

“You’re too old to lose it, too young to choose it

And the clocks wait so patiently on your song

You walk past a café but you don’t eat when you’ve lived too long

Oh, no, no, no, you’re a rock’n’roll suicide”

 

[The man quickly gets up and hurries out offstage. Clive sits back in the chair for a moment, then gets up and slowly exits the stage as well, glancing back at Mayya for a second, then leaving. The lights fade upstage.]

 

“Chev brakes are snarling as you stumble across the road
But the day breaks instead so you hurry home
Don't let the sun blast your shadow
Don't let the milk float ride your mind
You’re so natural - religiously unkind”

[The man from the bar appears in the stage left door and looks at Mayya in disbelief. She finishes the song]

“Oh, no, love, you’re not alone”

[Sensing the man’s presence, Mayya slowly turns around to face him.]

                   MAN FROM BAR

Mayya?

                   MAYYA

Dad?

[Mayya sets the guitar down and runs to her father. Her father picks her up and twirls her around and kisses her on the cheek. He kneels beside his daughter and gently brushes her hair, speaking to her silently. The lights fade on them.]

[The lights come up on the opposite side with Josh sitting at a table drinking a beer by himself. Sarah walks in holding a beer and sits down with him.]

                   JOSH

Seriously, I could have bought you one. It’s no big deal.

                   SARAH

Don’t worry about it. You can pay for the next round if you’re so eager to be gentlemanly. 

                   JOSH

I am, so I will.

     SARAH

This bar kinda sucks.

                   JOSH

Hey, watch it. A lot of great conversations have been made at this fine hall of beers and liquors. It’s a haven, if you will, for all that is right in the world. A beacon of hope. Plus, on Tuesdays they have like three dollar Guinness’s.

                   SARAH

I like it.

     JOSH

This place brings back a lot of memories for me. It was the first bar I never got ID’d in. It was the bar we frequented in my college days. I even broke up a fight between two guys, right over there, a couple years ago. A bar fight! How badass is that? It’s good to have a place that you can back to. A place that no matter how much you change, it always stays the same.

[Josh takes his phone out of his pocket and checks it.]

     SARAH

Who’s texting you?

                   JOSH

Mayya.

                   SARAH

How’s she doing?

                   JOSH

She’s good. Loving Russia; I don’t know how though with all the f*****g snow.

                   SARAH

You just say that cus you’ve never been out of California.

                   JOSH

No, I haven’t. And I don’t need to; it’s the cradle of civilization. Who would ever want to leave a place like this?

                   SARAH

What did she have to say?

                   JOSH

The newspaper in the town she’s living in published an article about her. She’s become quite the popular musician in her homeland.

                   SARAH

Good for her.

                   JOSH

Je lui souhaite la meilleure des chances.

                   SARAH

Did your girlfriend teach you that?

                   JOSH

Yes, she did.

              [Pause]

                   SARAH

It’s been a year.

                   JOSH

Let’s make a toast.

                   SARAH

To what?

                   JOSH

To Clive…and rolling down hills.

[Spotlight on Mayya as she plugs her guitar into an amp, and sets up her art stands around her.]

SARAH

What?

                   JOSH

When we were in college, we had gotten wasted at Chinatown park and we were walking back to the dorms and Clive thought it was a good idea to try and get to Market Street by lying on his back and rolling down the hills.

                   SARAH

Oh god.

                   JOSH

And I tried to convince him that it probably wasn’t the best idea but he kept telling me, “No, man, it’s what Hemingway would do if he was in this situation.” And I was like, “I’m pretty sure Hemingway would just walk down like a normal person.” And this went on for about half an hour until he finally caved in and walked down the hill regularly.

                   SARAH

Sounds like Clive. He was always a little bit crazy.

                   JOSH

No, he was a f*****g rock star.

[Lights fade on them as Mayya begins to play Ziggy Stardust.]

                   MAYYA

“Ziggy played guitar

Jamming good with weird and gilly and the Spiders from Mars

He played it left hand but made it too far

Became the special man, then we were Ziggy’s band

 

Ziggy really sang

Screwed up eyes and screwed down hairdo like some cat from Japan

He could lick ‘em by smiling, he could leave ‘em to hang

They came on so loaded man, well-hung and snow-white tan

 

“So where were the spiders while the fly tried to break our balls

Just the beer light to guide us

So we bitched about his fans and should we crush his sweet hands?”

 

[From stage right, Clive enters and stops in his tracks by the sight of Mayya. He watches her play.]

 

“Ziggy played for time, jiving us that we were voodoo

The kids were just crass, he was the nazz

With god given a*s

He took it all too far, but boy could he play guitar

 

Making love with his ego, Ziggy sucked up into his mind

Like a leper messiah

When the kids had killed the man I had to break up the band”

[Clive gives her a big round of applause as Mayya finishes. Mayya begins to tune and fiddle with her guitar and looks over at Clive.]

     MAYYA

Thank you.

                   CLIVE

That was amazing.

                   MAYYA

You like Bowie?

                   CLIVE

I f*****g love him.

              [points to his shirt.]

Obviously.

              [pointing to the art stands.]

You selling artwork?

                   MAYYA

Yeah, its five dollars for a painting and you get a free song as well. Your choice.

                   CLIVE

What songs do you know?

                   MAYYA

A lot of Bowie, he’s my favorite. And uh…Pink Floyd. Zeppelin. Creedence. Classic stuff, you know?

                   CLIVE

Right on.

              [Pause]

Well, you know what? I’m completely spent on cash right now, but if I had five dollars I would certainly buy a painting off of you.

                   MAYYA

That’s okay.

[Pause]

What’s your name?

                   CLIVE

It’s Clive.

                   MAYYA

I’m Mayya.

              [They shake hands.]

                   CLIVE

Well…it’s nice to meet you, Mayya.

              [The lights fade.]

              END OF PLAY

© 2013 Kevin


Author's Note

Kevin
This is a very rough first draft of the full length I just finished; I would be tremendously grateful of any opinions or suggestions for it; it's a story I'm rather passionate about and would like to know just how much work I have left to do on it.

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Added on April 19, 2013
Last Updated on April 19, 2013
Tags: Play, Theatre, Drama, David Bowie, Music

Author

Kevin
Kevin

Jersey City, NJ



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