A Prelude to a Kiss and Other Plays by Craig Lucas

Author:Craig Lucas [Lucas, Craig]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781559368100
Publisher: Theatre Communications Group

ACT TWO

In the darkness, the sound of a pitch pipe. Lights up on a processional from the kitchen into the living room: Steve carries the turkey on an enormous platter, covered; he is accompanied by Addie, Hat, Joan, the Young Boy, Gemma and Tucker, all singing “Shall We Gather at the River.” They each carry a small platter of food in one hand—vegetables, salad, cranberry sauce, etc.—and a candle in the other.

ALL:

Shall we gather at the river

Where bright angel feet have trod;

With its crystal tide forever

Flowing from the throne of God?

Yes, we’ll gather at the river

The beautiful, the beautiful river,

Gather with the saints at the river

That flows from the throne of God.

(On the final chord, the platters are set down on the coffee table, which has been draped with a large white cloth. Everyone gathers around, the Young Boy disappearing in the tight huddle of adult bodies.)

HAT: Let us pray. (He looks to his mother)

ADDIE: Oh. Me? Not my usual . . . (Bows her head) Lord . . . we . . . thank you for . . . the great pleasure of your . . . not usually at a loss, we thank you for this food which we are about to eat . . . And for our guests and our beloved family and for . . . the glory of our . . . language, the mysterious treasure of English, we thank thee, oh Lord, whoever, wherever you are, amen. Phew!

ALL (Overlapped): Amen.

TUCKER: Dig in!

GEMMA: Yes!

JOAN: Let’s eat!

HAT: Mmmmm!

(Tucker hands Addie an enormous carving knife as Steve lifts the cover off the turkey: there, surrounded by roasted vegetables, is the head of the Young Boy, his eyes closed, waxy in death. Addie hesitates.)

GEMMA: Dark meat for me, please.

JOAN: Me, too.

HAT: I’ll take an ear to start, I’m not all that hungry.

TUCKER: What’s wrong, old girl? You okay?

HAT: Mom?

ADDIE: I’m fine, I’m fine, I was just thinking . . . all the good times we’ve had.

TUCKER: Here . . .

(He reaches around Addie, helping her guide the knife down to the boy’s head.)

ADDIE: Thank you.

(As the knife meets the boy’s neck, his eyes fly open.)

YOUNG BOY: Ow!

(Addie recoils.)

TUCKER: It’s all right, it’s not gonna bite you.

ADDIE: I know.

YOUNG BOY: Go ahead. You might as well.

(None of the others react to the Young Boy.)

ADDIE: What . . . what do you mean?

YOUNG BOY: Anyone who would rhyme “chaos” with “Laos.”

ADDIE: What?

YOUNG BOY: Or allow the meter to fall apart, even think that was something worth doing . . .

ADDIE: Well . . .

YOUNG BOY: “A clock upon the wall of fate”! Kill me, please, I want to die.

ADDIE: No, you . . .

YOUNG BOY: YES!

ADDIE: I . . .

YOUNG BOY: I WANT TO! I WANT IT!

(The Young Boy’s hands leap up through the roasted vegetables and seize the knife handle, driving the blade deep into his own neck: copious blood spurts up, splattering Addie, who screams. Everyone runs off as Addie slams the cover back on the turkey and falls back onto the sofa, covering herself with the blanket, moaning.

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