Dark Moonlight – Hustlers and Geisha - 1. Part One

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Scene One: “Autumn Wind”

(Lights come up on BASS standing stage right front)

 

No. 1 – Cavatina con Recitativo

 

BASS:

The dew pretends he

Loves the love of the rush –

The rush that he loves no dew.

But the rush will bloom

And love the love of the dew –

Then, both might yet understand. [SOG]

 

Recitativo:

Over the course of eighteen months,

Through many moods and circumstance,

I interviewed several young men.

(lights come up on COUNTERTENOR slowly pacing around the chairs)

Their stories are different –

How they came to this path,

What makes them stick to it –

But all wound up open with me.

The stories of Montreal men,

A part of the city’s sex-trade.

(gestures to COUNTERTENOR to have a seat. Takes the chair with back to audience)

 

 

No. 2 – Dialogo

 

BASS:

[What do you charge?]

 

COUNTERTENOR:

(matter of fact)

So, usually it’s thirty-five minutes

For Twenty dollars – and we’ll, like,

Stroke each other. Depending on what

The client wants. (grins broadly) You know,

Give each other affection:

You know, having fun together,

That’s really what the customer

Wants sometimes . . . but it’s different

(rises and moves stage right – still looking at BASS)

With every client – a different show.

We all want different things, right? [MFS]

 

 

No. 3 – Canzona

 

COUNTERTENOR:

Beyond the chide to duty,

Below the scowl of people –

The judging looks,

The opinioned nods,

The tabby cat, and one white,

Sidle the ridge of the roof –

The knowing looks,

The fore-tasting wants,

Stronger than the fear of death

Is the calming need for love.

 

Above the call of duty,

Before the scheme of people –

An autumn wind

Will soon come to them

And that passionate embrace,

That driving need to make love –

Is set aside,

Will be forgotten.

How I envy just the way

Cats pick who and where to love. [SOG]

 

(lights fade on COUNTERTENOR and he exits)

 

 

Scene Two: “Soaked”

(Lights come up on BASS rising from his chair. He extends his hand and greets BARITONE, who enters stage left. Silently the two look at the clipboard as if ensuring the information is correct. Meanwhile TENOR enters stage right, and the lights come up on him. Near the end of TENOR’s Arietta, BASS and BARITONE take their seats)

 

No. 4 – Arietta

 

TENOR:

The pallid day,

Fractured by the bamboo blinds –

Grief sticks my heart,

As I count the bands of light –

Not knowing just why,

So forth, and so on, and such.

The nightingale

Climbing the bamboo stem,

Pauses and turns a musical head

To sing his love at every knot –

At every knot, to sing.

 

The season comes

Where every night is long,

Pauses and turns all the fields flame-red

To weep my love at every dawn –

At every dawn, to weep. [SOG]

 

(recap: “The pallid day” etc.)

 

(lights fade on TENOR, and he exits)

 

 

No. 5 – Dialogo

 

BASS:

[Have you ever been in love?]

 

BARITONE:

(unnerved by the question)

I’ve never been in love.

(thinking it over)

But, sometimes . . . . I’ve felt . . .

I’ve felt some strong feelings.

(wide-eyed and honest)

When a guy is sucking you off . . .

Well, I’m not made of stone.

(slowly shaking his head)

For sure I feel something.

(pause, then a return to wide-eyed honesty)

You were talking about my first time.

(thinking it over)

I remember my first time . . .

How I liked it a lot.

(slowly shaking his head)

I really liked it. (shrugging) But,

Real feelings? No.

 

BASS:

(consulting his clipboard)

[Tell me about your family.]

 

BARITONE:

I didn’t grow up in a good family.

My mother was a stripper,

(grins and nods)

So I didn’t really have

A great family life.

 

BASS:

But you were still spending

Time with her?

 

BARITONE:

(replying with a negative mutter)

Un-oh . . .

 

BASS:

Never?!

 

BARITONE:

Well. Until I was Nine.

(pause) After that,

I wasn’t with her anymore.

I only knew her until then. [MFS]

  

 

No. 6 – Duettino

 

BASS:

(rising slowly and moving to stage left)

The morning wakes with a fine mist

It falls on us as softly as dew

The nightingale above us is wet

And her wings beat down on us

The scent of the plum blossoms softly.

 

Some birds do not know

Where they may rest

When evenings come

But nightingales

Return to plum trees,

And I return

Each night safe to him. [SOG]

 

BARITONE:

(rising and going in front of BS’s chair, then stage right)

Within my heart is a mist too

A fine falling of uncertainty

Wherein mist meets mist and drop meets drop

And flutter raises the scent

Of one heart at home in another.

 

Soaked in the mist and rain

By dew and frost

Soon I shall be free

Of my body –

And then free to love,

For nothing else

We pretend matters.

 

BASS and BARITONE:

Soaked in the sky just at dawning,

The morning bird flies and hides away,

But I comb wet hair on my temple,

Wetted in the rain, and happy,

Happy that he returns to my side. [SOG]

 

 

Scene Three: “Indistinct Shadow”

(BARITONE exits, and BASS returns stage left to greet TENOR)

 

No. 7 – Dialogo

 

BASS:

[How did you get started?]

 

TENOR:

I met this black guy […] in Quebec [.]

He was looking for female prostitutes, […]

So I told him where to find them.

Then I asked him:

“Do you know where

There’s a place for

Male prostitutes in Montreal?”

He said yes. Since

I did him a favor,

The next day

He gave me a lift to

Champlain Park,

To show me where it is.

 

BASS:

So you left with him the next day?

 

TENOR:

Yeah.

 

BASS:

How did you know, ahead of time,

You wanted to

Get into prostitution?

 

TENOR:

Well, for the money. […]

(nodding slowly, happily)

First day I got here,

I made six hundred dollars.

But it went fast, because

I was doing Ecstasy.

I was doing it when

I was working the streets.

I smoked a lot of pot too

When I was working . . .

Then I’d eat, buy my smokes

And clothes, you know –

I was covering the basics. […]

 

BASS:

Does your mother know

You do prostitution?

 

TENOR:

Yeah. She knows. […]

(an odd smile appears – like he derives some pleasure in others’ pain)

She says: “You never know

What someone could do to you.

You could be doing a client

And the guy kills you –

Rapes you and locks you up,

And throws you in the river.”

(shrugs, confirming)

You never know.

 

BASS:

When you work, do you think

about things like that?

 

TENOR:

(dead serious)

Yeah. I do.

(lost in reminiscence – pausing)

Like, I was doing stupid things.

You know, like, making little

Animal noises in high school.

 

BASS:

(lost but intrigued by the boy’s thinking patterns)

Like?

 

TENOR:

Pig noises, and things like that.

Everyone appears to you

Like Seniors when you

Just arrive in Freshman year.

They treat you like

You’re in Kindergarten –

Like you’re some stray dog,

One that’s followed

Them to school.

 

BASS:

You are saying you looked

Younger than you were?

 

TENOR:

Oh, yes. Quite a bit.

 

BASS:

(pause)

And, you were making

Animal noises to –

Scare them away . . . ?

 

TENOR:

No. To make them laugh.

But they weren’t

Laughing with me –

They were laughing at me.

That’s how it was.

 

BASS:

(utterly lost)

What’s the connection . . .

Between that and prostitution . . . ?

 

TENOR:

(like a spell has been broken. Blinks)

What?

 

BASS:

You were saying that’s why

You got involved in the sex-trade?

 

TENOR:

Yes.

Well, you know,

I had a lot of problems,

With my parents.

 

BASS:

(pause)

What’s that got to do with sex-work?

 

TENOR:

It was to get back at them. […]

To get back at the world

For making me do things,

Or to get back at my parents

For what . . . for what they did to me.

Things that led me to prostitution.

Prostitution was something

I knew I’d end up doing.

Like, in school, I figured

I’d end up killing myself.

Prostitution was a step

Towards suicide, like

Getting STDs. […]

 

BASS:

So for you,

Prostitution is like suicide? […]

You wanted to get back

At people . . . your parents . . . ?

 

TENOR:

Yes. Because of my past.

(matter of fact)

My mother didn’t really love me.

She liked my sister better,

And that really hurt me.

Now my step-dad is in prison.

So I have many things to deal with . . .

Things are hard to get over. [MFS]

 

 

No. 8 – Cavatina

(lights fade on TENOR and BASS; rise on COUNTERTENOR standing stage right)

 

COUNTERTENOR:

I have waited all night –

It grows late, and I feverish.

Towards daybreak, I pillow

My weary brow upon my arms.

Perhaps I’ll see him in dreams –

'How I resent those

Garrulous birds of morn.’

 

After you left me,

Two pillows

One body –

Where are you now?

What happened to

All my thoughts

Since we met?

That is easy.

Until I met you

I had none

Worthy then

For me to hear.

Two pillows

One body –

Where are you now?

 

Daylight comes and I awake –

Looking right to left – is he here?

Then slowly see – there’s no one.

Only my long, tear-stained sleeves flow

Right to left – away from me.

‘How I resent those

Garrulous birds of morn.’ [SOG]

 

(the light comes up on TENOR as he rises from his seat. He steps towards COUNTERTENOR. during the flowing number, BASS rises and exits stage left)

 

No. 9 – Duettino

 

TENOR:

I want to write him a letter

But find nothing trivial to say –

Instruct me, godlike, blank paper –

Reflect on me as moon does the day.

 

The breeze is so light –

That when he caresses

The green willow tree

He hardly seems to touch her.

 

Indistinct shadow –

Our pillows seem to touch

So close we’ve laid them

When we get ready for bed.

 

Mornings or evenings –

Who cares our little tiffs,

But our make-up letters

Question our ever parting.

 

COUNTERTENOR:

I want to write him a letter

But find nothing trivial to say –

Instruct me, godlike, blank paper –

Reflect on me as moon does the day.

 

His pretty gesture –

Secures in me my love.

A gesture so light

He hardly seemed to notice.

 

My letters written –

In so base a character

Still out-rivals words

Spoken in quiet falter.

 

I cannot touch him –

So I’ll lie on the floor.

From sleep I’m startled:

The watchman warns of fire.

 

TENOR and COUNTERTENOR:

I want to write him a letter

But find nothing trivial to say –

Instruct me, godlike, blank paper –

Reflect on me as moon does the day.

 

If there were no moon to read by,

I’d hold his letters to the snow light.

In summer, to the fireflies,

Or without them – I’d read by my heart’s glow. [SOG]

 

 

(darkness – they exit)