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filkertomThe first part, and....
Interlude: "What We Need"
[NARRATOR and WEST move upstage. Lights come up on a crude laboratory -- two or sheet-covered three tables, one of which is filled with surgical tools. There is also a newspaper on the table. Two flat-edged shovels rest against and behind the forward table. WEST and the NARRATOR move behind the table.]
NARRATOR
I found an old farmhouse, long since abandoned,
And no one lives anywhere near.
WEST
And very convenient for hiding our failures,
Yes, I think we'll do well in here.
[WEST opens the newspaper flat on the table and begins reading.]
WEST
Now, let's check the obituaries -- what we want are people buried
Recently in Potter's Field.
NARRATOR
Yes, but 'round here, most go to Christchurch Cemetary.
WEST
Yes, and been embalmed -- their vital fluids are congealed.
My reagent will work only if all the organs
Are intact and reasonably fresh.
Wait! Here we go -- a young accident victim who
Drowned without ruining his flesh.
[WEST puts on a scarf, picks up the two shovels, and starts towards the "door", S.L. The NARRATOR stops him.]
NARRATOR
Where are you going?
WEST
We have to go get him!
NARRATOR
He's already been buried! You can't just go get --
WEST
Yes, I can, and I will, but I must have your help.
He's not going to just walk here -- at least, not just yet.
[WEST holds out one of the shovels to the NARRATOR, who looks at it before looking at WEST and slowly taking it. They both move to S.L., WEST more quickly, and then circle to down-center stage to stand under a lone spot.]
-----
Song: "All These Years (This Is Real)"
WEST
All these years of thinking, of expositing, soliloquizing,
All these years philosophizing what I thought was right,
All these years of words without a way to make them tangible,
All these years of emptiness, at last fulfilled tonight.
[Upstage lights fade up to show a grave in a field. Simple headstone, smooth layer of dirt, perhaps a picket fence behind. WEST and the NARRATOR move to the upstage side of it.]
WEST [spoken]
This is it! The very grave! Dig!
NARRATOR [spoken]
But, Herbert! We can't --
WEST [spoken]
DIG!
[They begin to dig.]
WEST
All these years of laughter from my classmates and professors,
Mockery and all-too-telling silence when I pressed,
All these years of questioning what they don't even speak about,
All these years of theory, at last put to the test.
[The shovels thunk solidly on wood, and they dig faster.]
You, a distant, impersonal God
Who claims to know what we feel,
Well, this poor devil beneath the sod,
This and only this is what's real!
Some would
Say he was taken too soon, or too late,
And offer childish moral advice,
But it was sheer chance that he met his fate,
I'll give him one more roll of the dice!
[They reveal a simple wooden coffin. WEST pries it open with the shovel. From the coffin, they lift a DEAD YOUNG MAN, laying him on the ground beside the grave.]
WEST [spoken]
Perfect! All right. Fill in the grave -- make it look undisturbed.
[WEST and the NARRATOR replace the grave dirt.]
WEST [spoken]
Now, back to the lab!
[WEST and the NARRATOR pick up the DEAD YOUNG MAN and carry him upstage. While they do so, stagehands replace the tables for the laboratory. WEST and the NARRATOR place the DEAD YOUNG MAN on the front table. The NARRATOR walks around to the front of the table, to address the audience.]
NARRATOR
West had all he had wanted,
The flesh was perfectly intact,
I stared, fascinated and haunted
We were going to bring this corpse back.
The terrible thrill that held me so,
Was tainted with awful doubt,
There WERE things man was not meant to know,
And we were about to find out!
WEST [spoken]
We're almost ready! Come here and help me!
NARRATOR [spoken]
Herbert... this... this is -- Herbert, you can't --
WEST [spoken]
I CAN!
WEST
All these years of being told what I can and cannot do,
All these years of being told "We know what is best",
All these years, and finally I have the opportunity to
Shout at devil, man, and god...
"I am Herbert West!"
[WEST prepares an injection -- a large syringe filled with an eerily glowing fluid.]
WEST
All these years of dreading what mysteries lie beyond death.
NARRATOR [counterpoint]
I held back... far too long...
WEST
All these years of fearing what that darkness may reveal.
NARRATOR [counterpoint]
Afraid of myself, of what I feel,
WEST
Now at last these still lungs will begin again to draw breath --
NARRATOR [counterpoint]
It's too late... it's too strong...
WEST
All these years of dreaming now are finally made real!
NARRATOR [counterpoint]
It's too wrong, but it's real!
WEST
Fi... nal... ly... it's... real!
NARRATOR [counterpoint]
God... help... me... it's... real!
[WEST plunges the needle into the arm of the DEAD YOUNG MAN and injects the fluid.]
To Be Continued....
Interlude: "What We Need"
[NARRATOR and WEST move upstage. Lights come up on a crude laboratory -- two or sheet-covered three tables, one of which is filled with surgical tools. There is also a newspaper on the table. Two flat-edged shovels rest against and behind the forward table. WEST and the NARRATOR move behind the table.]
NARRATOR
I found an old farmhouse, long since abandoned,
And no one lives anywhere near.
WEST
And very convenient for hiding our failures,
Yes, I think we'll do well in here.
[WEST opens the newspaper flat on the table and begins reading.]
WEST
Now, let's check the obituaries -- what we want are people buried
Recently in Potter's Field.
NARRATOR
Yes, but 'round here, most go to Christchurch Cemetary.
WEST
Yes, and been embalmed -- their vital fluids are congealed.
My reagent will work only if all the organs
Are intact and reasonably fresh.
Wait! Here we go -- a young accident victim who
Drowned without ruining his flesh.
[WEST puts on a scarf, picks up the two shovels, and starts towards the "door", S.L. The NARRATOR stops him.]
NARRATOR
Where are you going?
WEST
We have to go get him!
NARRATOR
He's already been buried! You can't just go get --
WEST
Yes, I can, and I will, but I must have your help.
He's not going to just walk here -- at least, not just yet.
[WEST holds out one of the shovels to the NARRATOR, who looks at it before looking at WEST and slowly taking it. They both move to S.L., WEST more quickly, and then circle to down-center stage to stand under a lone spot.]
-----
Song: "All These Years (This Is Real)"
WEST
All these years of thinking, of expositing, soliloquizing,
All these years philosophizing what I thought was right,
All these years of words without a way to make them tangible,
All these years of emptiness, at last fulfilled tonight.
[Upstage lights fade up to show a grave in a field. Simple headstone, smooth layer of dirt, perhaps a picket fence behind. WEST and the NARRATOR move to the upstage side of it.]
WEST [spoken]
This is it! The very grave! Dig!
NARRATOR [spoken]
But, Herbert! We can't --
WEST [spoken]
DIG!
[They begin to dig.]
WEST
All these years of laughter from my classmates and professors,
Mockery and all-too-telling silence when I pressed,
All these years of questioning what they don't even speak about,
All these years of theory, at last put to the test.
[The shovels thunk solidly on wood, and they dig faster.]
You, a distant, impersonal God
Who claims to know what we feel,
Well, this poor devil beneath the sod,
This and only this is what's real!
Some would
Say he was taken too soon, or too late,
And offer childish moral advice,
But it was sheer chance that he met his fate,
I'll give him one more roll of the dice!
[They reveal a simple wooden coffin. WEST pries it open with the shovel. From the coffin, they lift a DEAD YOUNG MAN, laying him on the ground beside the grave.]
WEST [spoken]
Perfect! All right. Fill in the grave -- make it look undisturbed.
[WEST and the NARRATOR replace the grave dirt.]
WEST [spoken]
Now, back to the lab!
[WEST and the NARRATOR pick up the DEAD YOUNG MAN and carry him upstage. While they do so, stagehands replace the tables for the laboratory. WEST and the NARRATOR place the DEAD YOUNG MAN on the front table. The NARRATOR walks around to the front of the table, to address the audience.]
NARRATOR
West had all he had wanted,
The flesh was perfectly intact,
I stared, fascinated and haunted
We were going to bring this corpse back.
The terrible thrill that held me so,
Was tainted with awful doubt,
There WERE things man was not meant to know,
And we were about to find out!
WEST [spoken]
We're almost ready! Come here and help me!
NARRATOR [spoken]
Herbert... this... this is -- Herbert, you can't --
WEST [spoken]
I CAN!
WEST
All these years of being told what I can and cannot do,
All these years of being told "We know what is best",
All these years, and finally I have the opportunity to
Shout at devil, man, and god...
"I am Herbert West!"
[WEST prepares an injection -- a large syringe filled with an eerily glowing fluid.]
WEST
All these years of dreading what mysteries lie beyond death.
NARRATOR [counterpoint]
I held back... far too long...
WEST
All these years of fearing what that darkness may reveal.
NARRATOR [counterpoint]
Afraid of myself, of what I feel,
WEST
Now at last these still lungs will begin again to draw breath --
NARRATOR [counterpoint]
It's too late... it's too strong...
WEST
All these years of dreaming now are finally made real!
NARRATOR [counterpoint]
It's too wrong, but it's real!
WEST
Fi... nal... ly... it's... real!
NARRATOR [counterpoint]
God... help... me... it's... real!
[WEST plunges the needle into the arm of the DEAD YOUNG MAN and injects the fluid.]
To Be Continued....
