PANGAEA
a play in two acts by
Erik Champney
© 2017 Erik Champney
Contact:
[email protected]
206.240.9030
Pangaea ii
CHARACTERS
(in order of appearance)
ROSS KURTZ
Older than 26 in the present but 17 in his memories. He
is the chameleon, charismatic and charming.
GERTRUDE KURTZ
15; Ross’ sister. She is purposefully sloppy and small,
in self-worth if not also in frame.
PHILLIP ASHCROFT
17; the son of a psychologist. He is well-put together
and starting to crack.
LANG ASHCROFT
40ish; a successful psychologist and divorced mother.
Her son, Phillip, is her best friend.
GEORGIE CROMWELL
16; Lang’s patient and Ross’ ex-boyfriend.
SETTING
Inside of Ross’ memories; various locations in a familiar town
TIME
Now, and November and December of Then
RUNNING TIME
Approximately two hours, with one intermission.
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Pangaea iii
SCENES
Act One Prologue
Ross’ Thoughts
Now
ACT ONE: The Wednesday Boy
A Wednesday in November
Scene One
Scene Two
Scene Three
Scene Four
Scene Five
Scene Six
Scene Seven
Scene Eight
Scene Nine
Scene Ten
Scene Eleven
Scene Twelve
Scene Thirteen
Lang’s Office
English Class
Kurtz Home
Ashcroft Home
On the Phone / Kurtz Home
Prelude to the Field
The Field
Ashcroft Home
Kurtz Living Room
On the Phone
Ashcroft Kitchen
Ross’ Bedroom
Act One Finale
9:00 A.M.
10:48 A.M.
3:12 P.M.
5:30 P.M.
7:40 P.M.
Immediately following
Immediately following
Past midnight
Immediately following
Just before 3:00 A.M.
3:00 A.M.
3:15 A.M.
3:30 A.M.
Act Two Prologue
Ross’ Thoughts
Now
ACT TWO: My Careless Hands
Christmas Eve
Scene Fourteen
Scene Fifteen
Scene Sixteen
Scene Seventeen
Scene Eighteen
Scene Nineteen
Scene Twenty
Scene Twenty-One
Scene Twenty-Two
Scene Twenty-Three
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In Church
The Field
Ashcroft Home
Ashcroft Home
Kurtz Living Room
Phillip’s Bedroom
Ashcroft Foyer
Kurtz Home
Ashcroft Foyer
Act Two Finale
7:15 P.M.
8:12 P.M.
8:30 P.M.
9:30 P.M.
Immediately following
9:53 P.M.
Immediately following
Immediately following
11:39 P.M.
Midnight / Now
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AUTHOR’S NOTE
Pangaea is open to many different visual designs, but the rhythm of its language must
never be compromised. The structure of the play is a collage of ideas and scenes that
seamlessly – and lyrically – overlap. In its way, Pangaea is an opera. This, however, in
no way implies that the humor should be lost. These people can be very funny.
When the dialogue is printed in bold lettering, the characters are speaking outside of the
situation/scene. They are acting as a Greek Chorus while always maintaining their
characters. The dialogue in bold can be directed toward the audience, but the characters
are not necessarily speaking to the audience. These are not narrations but thoughts,
memories, and observations. In the case of characters speaking with someone who is
physically involved in the scene, that character in the scene should remain in the moment.
He or she should not turn it into an aside.
Some sequences in Pangaea involve characters talking to each other on the phone. It is
preferred we never see a phone, nor should a “phone” ever be pantomimed or indicated.
Three characters in Pangaea are gay. However, sexual orientation, as a dramatic device,
is a small footnote to the play’s philosophy. Pangaea is a story for all people.
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Pangaea 1
PROLOGUE - ACT ONE
(Dialogue printed in bold represents an aside, in the
spirit of a Greek Chorus. This is a reoccurring style
used throughout the play. The asides are not
narrations. They are private thoughts, memories,
and observations. In the case of characters speaking
with someone who is physically involved in the
scene, the person in the scene should remain in the
moment. He or she should not turn it into an aside.
The five characters enter. ROSS is revealed first,
center.
The following is one of his poems.)
ROSS:
I like things to be obscene.
I like to complicate the material you give me.
I like to say the words wrong, I enjoy it.
I enjoy looking at you when I disagree
So I can watch you shrink.
Does it make me somewhat morbid
That I’ve dreamed you in the ground,
Spread out on a floor of coal
And covered up with snow?
But there is coal beneath the whole wide world –
(The others are revealed as they take over the poem.)
ROSS/GERTRUDE:
So where to dig to find you.
ROSS/PHILLIP:
Where to dig to save you.
ROSS/LANG:
Where to dig to stop you.
(With GEORGIE begins a steadily building rhythm.)
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GEORGIE:
You were the deadline.
You were a quiet room.
PHILLIP:
You gave me Christmas.
LANG:
You gave me interludes.
GERTRUDE:
I was preparing.
I was a quiet room.
PHILLIP:
I gave you nothing.
LANG:
I gave me nothing too.
GEORGIE:
Is this the party
Where everyone retracts?
PHILLIP:
Is this the party
Where nobody reacts?
LANG:
I am relinquished.
GERTRUDE:
I am a broken chain.
PHILLIP:
I made you Christmas.
GEORGIE:
I made you wax and wane.
GERTRUDE:
But in my absence –
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LANG:
Consider what you did.
PHILLIP:
But in my absence –
GEORGIE:
Remember what I hid.
GERTRUDE:
I’m aware of the damage you do.
ROSS:
Maybe that’s my favorite part of you.
(He breaks away from the poem and speaks freely.)
The further away I get from you, the more I remember. The more I want. I don’t get it. I
was gone, and three years later I’d narrowed you down to a couple thoughts a month, and
they were quick and painless. In five years, you didn’t exist. You weren’t palpable. But
now…my God, now it’s different. If I could move like a ghost through my own life, I would
visit you. Not the way you are now, because by now I’m sure you’re ruined. But if I could
look at you, all of you, the way you were then, maybe today would make sense to me. And
then there was me, with an uncontrollable pen in my hand, splattering rhapsodies across
page after page after page. I have no dignity. These are my words.
(The poem immediately continues, the four speaking simultaneously.)
LANG:
PHILLIP:
GERTRUDE:
GEORGIE:
You were the deadline.
You were a quiet room.
You gave me Christmas.
You gave me interludes.
It isn’t easy.
You’re never coming back.
It isn’t easy.
Picking up your slack.
I am relinquished.
I am a broken chain.
I made you nothing.
I made you wax and wane.
But in my absence
Consider what you did.
But in my absence
Remember what I hid.
You are forgotten.
You are a broken chain.
You made me Christmas.
You made me go insane.
Is this the party
Where everyone retracts?
Is this the party
Where nobody reacts?
I was preparing.
I was a quiet room.
I gave you nothing.
I made you wax and wane.
That is the business
Of remembering my name.
That is the business
Of a present you can’t claim.
(Beat.)
ROSS:
I hate that poem.
(Blackout.)
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Act Two
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ACT ONE: The Wednesday Boy
SCENE ONE
(LANG’s office.)
PHILLIP:
November.
GERTRUDE:
Wednesday.
ROSS:
Nine A.M.
(LANG is in mid-session with GEORGIE.)
GEORGIE:
I don’t know. I don’t know what it means… Why should it mean anything? I went to sleep, I
dreamt. I woke up during the dream ‘cause I had to pee. It was a bad dream, I was glad I didn’t
have to dream it anymore. Isn’t that enough?
LANG:
You brought it up, George.
GEORGIE:
Yes, I did. It was a pocket of words in the air. I know you hate it when I’m quiet.
LANG:
“A pocket of words in the air.” That’s very extravagant.
GEORGIE:
It is what it is.
LANG:
I can’t argue with that. So you’re just killing time today, is that what’s happening?
GEORGIE:
Yeah, I guess so.
LANG:
You’re so annoying. George. We’re going to do this today?
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Act Two
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GEORGIE:
I see you three times a week, which is amazing. Can’t I have a day off?
LANG:
Remember, I’m only seeing you on Wednesdays after this.
GEORGIE:
Good.
LANG:
Good? You were singing another song the first time you walked in here. That was a very
different day.
GEORGIE:
I’ve improved?
LANG:
Not really.
GEORGIE:
So how was that day different?
LANG:
You weren’t in such a hurry to leave.
GEORGIE:
I’m better. Aren’t I? Wouldn’t anything be better than what I was last month?
LANG:
Let’s be fair about what you were. You came in here and you wanted answers. More than
answers, solutions. You had fortitude. You had some guts!
GEORGIE:
That was before you started medicating me.
LANG:
You wanted to talk to me. Where did that go?
GEORGIE:
I don’t know. I’ve talked a lot. I’m running out of things to say to you, I’m gonna have to start
makin’ shit up.
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LANG:
Why are you still having that dream?
GEORGIE:
Shouldn’t I be asking you that?
LANG
Dream something new.
GEORGIE:
Is that an order?
LANG:
It’s an appeal. For a different dream. I’ve dissected that one to shreds for five weeks. There’s
nothing left to look at. I know you use it as a roadblock against talking about anything else –
GEORGIE:
I’m not that creative –
LANG:
Yes, you are – so enough. Dream something new. I don’t care what it is – gerber babies, porn –
just something else.
GEORGIE:
It was different last night.
LANG:
How?
GEORGIE:
It changed. It did a thing. Isn’t that important?
LANG:
George, it’s the same dream you were having when you first came here. It may be a little altered,
but you’re still walking through a hallway in a house made of windows. A light flicks on outside
and you see him on the lawn –
GEORGIE:
But the light didn’t flick on last night!
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LANG:
Is that the “thing?”
GEORGIE:
That’s the thing. I didn’t see him on the lawn. Because I had to pee. You get it? I think that’s
excellent progress. My body is acting as a sort of survivalist alarm clock. I think that’s great.
LANG:
Before you woke up, when you were standing in that hallway, what did you want to do?
GEORGIE:
Is this a trick?
LANG:
George.
GEORGIE:
I don’t remember.
LANG:
Again, what did you want to do, George?
GEORGIE:
I asked you to stop doing that.
LANG:
Excuse me?
GEORGIE:
You say my name so much. It’s like you don’t think I know it.
LANG:
Saying it helps you stay focused.
GEORGIE:
You do this with all your patients?
LANG:
You in particular.
GEORGIE:
I know my name.
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LANG:
The dream. What did you want to do?
GEORGIE:
Alright. I wanted to take my fist and smash every window in the house until my hands were
bloody with little splinters of glass jabbed into my knuckles. Would you like to ask me why?
LANG:
(She’s loving this.)
Why?
GEORGIE:
Because I’m very concerned. Is that a big boy word? I’m very concerned that all of you want me
to start pretending like everything’s normal when everything’s fucked. F-U-C-K, F-bombfucked. I wanted to break all the windows because I was hoping that I would cut something and
start bleeding out until I died. But before any of that could happen –
LANG:
You’re allowed to miss him, you know.
GEORGIE:
But I’m not allowed to see him. Or talk to him. Or know him. So yeah, I would say that missing
him is the only thing I’ve got left. I’m so happy it’s allowed. Thank you.
LANG:
Has he called?
GEORGIE:
No. Not since last week.
LANG:
Have you tried to call him – ?
GEORGIE:
No –
LANG:
Have you?
GEORGIE:
No.
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LANG:
George, if it starts back up again with him –
GEORGIE:
It won’t.
LANG:
– I’ll have to do something about it.
GEORGIE:
Like tell my parents?
LANG:
Your parents don’t want you to go anywhere near him. They wanted to transfer you to a different
school. Was it a mistake to talk them out of that?
GEORGIE:
We’ll find out today!
(Beat.)
Nothing’s gonna happen. And if it does, you won’t tell them. ‘Cause then you’d know I wouldn’t
trust you anymore.
LANG:
Trust me? I don’t care if you trust me as long as you stop dreaming that dream.
GEORGIE:
You’re not so hard to read, Lang.
LANG:
Neither are you. Please stay away from him. Things are about to change again. It doesn’t have to
hurt.
GEORGIE:
What a gentle idea.
LANG:
You’ve had a long break. Are you ready to go back to school?
GEORGIE:
I’ve barely been there this year.
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Act Two
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LANG:
You’ll see him there. How do you feel about that?
GEORGIE:
How do you feel about writing me a prescription for Xanax?
(Immediately into…)
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SCENE TWO
(English class.)
PHILLIP:
Ten-forty-eight A.M.
(GERTRUDE is standing before her class reading a book report.)
GERTRUDE:
An Analysis of Great Expectations by Charles Dickens… by Gertrude Kurtz. Apparently, this is
supposed to be the Grand High example of what is commonly referred to as the “coming-of-agestory”, but I found no connection with any of these characters whatsoever. In fact, if I had found
any similarities, I’d probably be completely freaked out because, excuse me, but…sick. Sick.
Yucky yucky sick. Internally, externally, spiritually even. Grotesque. Charles Dickens was a
creepy individual, and I find it disturbing on so many levels that this is one of the books on the
required reading list. Here we have the lilting tale of this pansy-ass boy Pip or Pippin or
whatever and his undying love for some bitchy sex-starved girl, who’s probably really a
transsexual. And then hey. What does that say about this Pippin kid? I mean, how many years
does it take him to get those frilly skirts over her head? What’s even under there? Then we’ve
got that Mrs. Havisham lady, who hasn’t taken off her wedding dress in sixty-seven years. I’m
sorry, but God only knows what’s growing between those legs. I was very happy when she
burned herself to death. If only it had happened in chapter one. I rate this book a flat out thumbs
down, no stars, nothing doing, zero-minus. A videotaped abortion would have been more
interesting. Thank you.
(Immediately into…)
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SCENE THREE
(ROSS and GERTRUDE at home.)
LANG:
Three-twelve P.M.
(ROSS and GERTRUDE have just arrived from school.)
ROSS:
(Stunned.)
If you keep doing these things, they will throw you out of school.
GERTRUDE:
They will not.
ROSS:
You don’t think so?
GERTRUDE:
Not for a book report.
ROSS:
They’re looking for any little thing.
GERTRUDE:
You thought it was funny.
ROSS:
Not that funny.
GERTRUDE:
You laughed yourself sick.
ROSS:
When it was a concept. When it was you standing in the living room fucking around.
GERTRUDE:
I was never fucking around, it was always a plan, and you loved it. And my English class loved
it. I read the whole thing with an enormous smile on my face. Don’t act like you don’t love it.
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ROSS:
Why do you need all this attention?
GERTRUDE:
I don’t know. But I sure am lappin’ it up like a dog, aren’t I?
ROSS:
You got suspended, Gertrude.
GERTRUDE:
In-school suspension. What? I’ll sit in a little cubicle all day and draw pictures of things, like
children getting eaten by rabid dogs or whatever else they expect from me.
ROSS:
When they start expecting you to draw pictures of children being eaten, that’s bad.
GERTRUDE:
It’s just funny, Ross. That’s all. Did I embarrass you?
ROSS:
No.
GERTRUDE:
Then stop pretending like you care.
ROSS:
I’m your brother. When they talk to you, they talk to me, and they’ve been talking to me a lot
lately.
GERTRUDE:
Why don’t they call dad?
ROSS:
They can’t ever find dad.
GERTRUDE:
Then tell them to leave you alone. Can’t I just have my Thing? I am now officially the girl who
doesn’t know how to string together a sentence on paper without permanently damaging a room
full of people. Forgive me if I’m talented enough to take even something like Great Expectations
and make it offensive.
(Sweetly.)
Come on, Ross. You’re proud of me a little, aren’t you?
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ROSS:
Okay. Congratulations on your “Thing”. I’m glad it somehow involves the cobwebs up Mrs.
Havisham’s panties.
GERTRUDE:
It was supposed to be funny, I swear to God.
ROSS:
(Giving up.)
Why is there never a day that is not like this? Roll us a joint.
GERTRUDE:
(Pulling out her plastic baggie.)
There you go, setting good examples again.
ROSS:
You bother me.
GERTRUDE:
Hey, there’s news.
ROSS:
I don’t care.
GERTRUDE:
Do you know?
ROSS:
Know what?
GERTRUDE:
Georgie was at school today. Only for a half-day but he was there.
ROSS:
Did you see him?
GERTRUDE:
Yeah. Did you?
ROSS:
Why do you still ask me about him?
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GERTRUDE:
You didn’t know?
ROSS:
You only listen to the stupid shit I say, don’t you? You don’t hear anything that matters.
GERTRUDE:
Georgie matters.
ROSS:
Sometimes.
GERTRUDE:
I don’t understand how you do that. Georgie matters.
ROSS:
Gertrude, it’s been a very long month.
GERTRUDE:
You can say you’re happy he’s back.
ROSS:
(As he leaves.)
Please don’t ask me about him.
(Immediately into…)
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SCENE FOUR
(LANG and PHILLIP at home in the kitchen.
PHILLIP is trying to do his homework.)
GEORGIE:
Five-thirty P.M.
LANG:
Am I a good mother?
PHILLIP:
Oh God.
LANG:
Am I?
PHILLIP:
Really?
LANG:
Meaning?
PHILLIP:
Leave it at work, Mom.
LANG:
I’d like to.
PHILLIP:
Well, shouldn’t you?
LANG:
In theory.
PHILLIP:
Pretend.
LANG:
Don’t tell me to pretend. You’re a child.
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PHILLIP:
I’m a growing boy.
LANG:
Growing. Yes. Not grown.
PHILLIP:
Getting there.
LANG:
No one’s completely grown up until they’re at least thirty-three.
PHILLIP:
New rule?
LANG:
It makes sense. It’s enough time for you to have your heart broken once or eighty-seven times.
PHILLIP:
A broken heart lends itself to maturity?
LANG:
Not really. How you respond to a broken –
PHILLIP:
This isn’t very optimistic.
LANG:
Would you prefer a mother who’s optimistic or one who tells you the truth?
PHILLIP:
Neither.
LANG:
Well, then I’ll just go die.
PHILLIP:
Mom…
LANG:
Oh, child of mine, I have no idea how you happened to me.
PHILLIP:
Fucking my father helped.
LANG:
Profanity, Phillip.
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PHILLIP:
Profanity, Mother.
LANG:
Don’t call me Mother. It’s too surreal. You’ve been doing that lately.
PHILLIP:
Sorry, Mom.
LANG:
Don’t be cheeky.
PHILLIP:
You’re using the word “don’t” a lot today.
LANG:
I hear enough expletives at work. I don’t need to have them coming out of you. Especially that
one. By its very definition, an “expletive” is a word with no meaning.
PHILLIP:
The real words are dying out, Mom. Absence of meaning is the next step.
LANG:
Must there always be a response? Can’t you just nod sometimes?
PHILLIP:
I’m gonna go ahead and guess. Did Georgie Cromwell come in today?
LANG:
(Somewhat bitingly.)
It’s Wednesday, isn’t it?
PHILLIP:
I don’t know his schedule.
LANG:
You do too. Monday, Wednesday, Friday. Well, that’s what it was. I’ve cut him back to just
Wednesday and I’m already starting to regret it.
PHILLIP:
The Wednesday Boy.
LANG:
I don’t know what to do with him. You think you see a light but then he spits it out.
PHILLIP:
He was at school.
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LANG:
How did he look?
PHILLIP:
Troubled.
LANG:
Don’t be insensitive.
PHILLIP:
Don’t don’t don’t – Are you mad at me?
LANG:
Phillip.
PHILLIP:
I saw him for five seconds from the other side of the hall. He always looks troubled. He
disappears for a while, he comes back, he still looks troubled.
LANG:
The most incredible first session of my career. “Help me. Help me. I trust you. Help me.” And
then a month of backtracking. What’s worse is how nervous he makes me. Those soulful eyes
picking everything apart – I think he sees right through me.
PHILLIP:
Let me guess.
LANG:
And his addiction to that boy.
PHILLIP:
Ross Kurtz.
LANG:
Now he’s dreaming about cutting himself.
PHILLIP:
Mom.
LANG:
Guess.
PHILLIP:
He’s a spoiled brat.
LANG:
You know your own kind.
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PHILLIP:
I’m not suicidal.
LANG:
Neither is he.
PHILLIP:
(Surprised.)
Really?
LANG:
Although I think he wants to be. It would add flair. But no, I don’t think so anymore. The
lithium’s probably working.
PHILLIP:
If the guy hasn’t gotten over it yet, maybe the lithium isn’t working. Have you thought of that?
LANG:
It takes six weeks.
PHILLIP:
Or he could just be crazy. He’s like what, my age? We’re just kids, for God’s sake. Every time
our crotches readjust, we’re in love. And Ross Kurtz? All this drama for that? Please.
LANG:
I’ve seen him.
PHILLIP:
Where?
LANG:
He was in the parking lot three weeks ago. Standing there, waiting for George.
PHILLIP:
Did Georgie tremble?
LANG:
He was in on it. He told his parents I was taking him home so they wouldn’t show up.
PHILLIP:
Doesn’t he have a car?
LANG:
This was before they were letting him do anything on his own. Very anxious people. But I knew
who that kid was the minute I saw him. Something’s not right.
PHILLIP:
You knew that from a look in a parking lot.
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LANG:
I already knew. But sometimes a look is all you need.
PHILLIP:
So you scared Ross Kurtz away and you took Georgie home. You turned his lie into a truth.
LANG:
Yes. I guess so.
PHILLIP:
He’s as good as dead with help like that.
LANG:
His parents would have overreacted. When did you become so negative?
PHILLIP:
(Gathering his homework, preparing to leave the room.)
Since I started paying attention.
LANG:
Where are you going?
PHILLIP:
I can’t think in here.
LANG:
Why?
PHILLIP:
You really should stop discussing your patients with me. Ethics.
(Immediately into…)
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Act Two