THE TROJAN WOMEN

The Trojan Women was the last play presented that year as well as the final play most of the cast ever appeared in at Wesleyan.  It was not directed by Mr. Russell.  I played Andromache, the mother of a small boy who is thrown off a high wall to his death.  It is of course a tragic scene especially when the boy's dead body is brought onto the stage.  We were fortunate enough to find a little boy to play my son and it was heart wrenching when he is dragged away from his mother.

Our director for unfathomable reasons decided not to use the actual small boy playing dead.  Instead the crew built a wooden boy who when it was finally finished looked like a......

wooden boy.

Now in my experience most people can tell the difference between a flesh and blood child and a little wooden boy.  When Hecuba stroked his cold dead face, she would get splinters in her fingers.  No one could get though this scene in rehearsals without laughing.  And then came opening night.

My parents decided to drive up to Macon with my little brother, Jim, to see this play.  I now realize they probably wanted to tell me that they were separating, but when it came right down to it, they never said a thing.  And there they were in the audience watching a Greek tragedy by Euripides with my eight-year-old brother.  Now my parents had seen musicals like South Pacific at the community theater (they had to; I was in it.)  While there was a Greek chorus in our little tragedy, no one sang "There Is Nothing Like A Dame."  And no laughs whatsoever.  Except for the little wooden dead boy.

The little wooden dead boy looked like Pinochio without the long nose.  He was borne in on a stretcher and laid before the kneeling Hecuba who had an interminable speech about "thy cheeks like roses" and "thy tiny (wooden) hands."  A low murmur rose from the audience; gasps of helpless laughter were quickly stifled and finally during a brief moment of quiet, my exhausted baby brother's head fell back and a deafening, protracted snore was heard throughout the land.

FAREWELL TO THE KING

The castle was falling into ruin.

Snow White was shocked when she saw the palace, her childhood home, for it was unrecognizable.

"What is happening to the castle?" cried Snow White.  Tears came to her eyes.    "The forest is invading my home and soon the building will be in ruins.  Why has my father done nothing to stop this devastation?  Has the Queen caused this?"

"No one knows, My Lady.  At first there were only small changes which began when you left.  Then your father began to travel to other lands and no repairs were made.  Your stepmother, the Queen, was enraged by your father's neglect.  Day by day her beauty faded; her mirror no longer gave her the answer she craved.  She was cruel to the servants and they began to leave the palace.  Vines came inside the windows and crept under the doors.  Plants began to grow in the piles of dust in all the rooms.  The Queen was frightened but seemed powerless to stop the invading leaves.  I dared not tell you what was happening; I hoped you would never see these crumbling walls.  When the King returned home, he was already ill and when he saw what had happened, he took to his bed.  Only his most faithful servants remain and some have died from this plague.  He does not have long to live; come with me to his room."

Together they ran through the decaying castle, climbing vine-covered stairs, until at last they came to the King's room. Pale and gaunt, her father lay in his bed, struggling to breathe.  A look of confusion passed over his face.  Was this his beloved daughter he had thought was dead?  He tried to speak.  "Snow White?"

She smiled and knelt by his bed and stroked his face.  "Yes, Father, it is I.  I made the Huntsman bring me to you when I heard you were ill."

"I am dying, my love.  We are all dying here; the plague will take us.  You must not get sick....."

"I will not leave you, Father.  I have missed you so much!  Here...let me put another pillow under your head.  I shall tell you all that has happened."

The huntsman brought a chair for Snow White and placed it by the king's bed.  She talked to her father softly for a long time as the moon rose and the stars came out.  And at last her eyes closed and she fell asleep, her hand firmly holding his.

When the sun rose, the Huntsman awakened and saw the King lying on his bed with his eyes closed. He knelt beside Snow White and gently touched her arm until she woke and smiled at him.

"Look Geoffrey, how peacefully my father is sleeping.  He is smiling."

"He is not asleep, my Lady."  Then Snow White looked again at the King and realized his hand in hers was no longer warm and she wept.

T

THE COMING OF THE PLAGUE

The Home of the Seven Tiny Men

 Two years had passed in the enchanted forest and all was well in the family of the Fairy King and Queen.  Annalisa and Arabella were now twelve years old and their beloved baby brother, Arthur, had just turned two.  He was surely the brightest, most beautiful little boy in the world and his sisters doted on him.  But they still found time to visit their friend, Snow White, who was living in the guest cottage of the seven little men who had befriended her. 

The Disguised Snow White

The Huntsman visited often bringing news of the Palace.  The King had never recovered from the supposed death of his daughter and spent much of his time visiting other kingdoms.  He had lost interest in his queen who was slowly, but inexorably losing her fabled beauty.  She seldom consulted her mirror these days because its message was always the same--there were many young women fairer than she in the kingdom including a radiant beauty with long red hair who lived in the forest far away from the royal castle.  One fine spring day as the Huntsman rode his horse through the freshly green trees, he saw Snow White's tiny cottage up ahead and his heart was heavy as he thought of the sad news he brought her.

Snow White's cottage in the woods

Snow White ran out to greet him with a smile.  She was a young woman now and lovelier than ever.

"Geoffrey," (for that was the Huntsman's name) "I am so happy to see you!"   Then she looked into his eyes and knew something was very wrong.  "What has happened, my friend?"

"My Lady, a terrible plague has invaded the kingdom.  People sicken and die within days.  Our doctors are mystified as to its cause and they can find no cure.  Many at the palace have fallen ill, including your father.  I fear the King is dying."

Snow White stood, stunned by this news.  "Please take me to my father now.  I must see him before he dies.  I must.  I will leave a letter for my friends."

"Princess, you cannot return to the palace--the Queen still lives and there is the threat of contagion.  What if you became ill?"

"You will either take me to my father or lend me your horse for I am going."  Snow White ran to her cottage and returned with her cloak and a note for her friends which she left by the door.  "Are you coming with me, Geoffrey?"

"Are you mad, your Grace?  Do you think I would allow you to return to the castle alone?"

The Huntsman helped Snow White onto his horse, then mounted behind her.  Together they rode into the twilight gloom of the forest.

As night fell the seven little men could be heard singing as they returned home to eat their dinner, not knowing that their much loved Snow White was gone.

DRIVING ALL NIGHT IN MACON

Going out with Bill never resembled a normal date.  It involved driving around in Bill's old car and listening to him spin tales of his storied career as an artist and seducer of women.  On this particular night I was high on Dave Brubeck and our fabulous evening so I started telling him about the concert, but I kept hearing little groans and sighs issuing from the back of the car but the backseat was empty.  Bill offered no explanation so I got on my knees and peered downward and there was an entwined and very drunken couple on the floor behind the front seat who were kissing and groaning and passing out.

"Who are those people?" said I in a stage whisper.

"Oh, people I know," he said airily.  "I'm dropping them off and then I have to go by my house and pick up something and then we'll get a bite to eat."

I continued with my tale of Dave and the guys and my trip backstage with Bootsie and the ten autographs, all the while ignoring the muffled cries and moans from the nether regions.  Bill was laughing at my story, completely unfazed by the grunts of passion which suddenly broke off, but were soon replaced by deafening snores.  Bravely, I continued painting a picture of my colorful evening until at last we pulled into the driveway of a darkened house and our passengers stumbled out of the car and lurched up the path to the front door.  I didn't ask who they were; I didn't want to know.

Next stop--Bill's house which was filled with his vaguely disturbing abstract art in dark purples and dirty blues.  Unframed paintings were everywhere--on the table, on the couch, on the floor and in the bathroom which was none too clean.  I decided to hold it.  And then the highlight of the evening--a trip to Krystal!

We fell on our hamburgers as if we had never eaten before and drank Coke after Coke, laughing and talking all the while, hopped up on caffeine and the excitement of staying out all night.  At last we left and drove to a secluded lane near the College where

we kissed for a long time in the moonlight.  I felt light as air, as if I were floating.

Then Bill gently pulled away and said, "We need to stop now or go ahead."  I was silent.

"I think I want to stop and go back to the dorm."

Bill nodded and started the car.  Slowly we drove toward the campus.  "How will I get in?"

"I'll call Bootsie from a phone booth and she can unlock the door.  It will be all right."

He stopped on the road by the soccer field and leaned across me to open the door and I got out.  Bill smiled and said, "Don't forget this."  He handed me the Merry Widow bra.  How had he gotten it off?  I ran across the soccer field, clutching my purse and the Merry Widow and watching out for the Night Watchman.  I finally reached the dorms and turned the doorknob at Wortham--it was locked.  Where was Bootsie?  Suddenly, I heard the Night Watchman and hid behind the bushes.  What if he found me at 4 AM with my bra in my hand?  What could I possibly say?  I'd be expelled!  Ruined!  Panicked, I rushed to the door after the Watchman passed by and started knocking. But how could Bootsie hear me--she was on the second floor!  Damn!  Here he came again on his unending rounds.  I dashed behind the bushes again and stood absolutely still until he passed by.  What if I were out here until dawn?  And suddenly, in answer to my prayers, the door opened and Bootsie, half asleep, croaked, "Come in," and I ran inside to safety.  Bootsie looked at the infamous Merry Widow in my hand and I think I saw the ghost of a smile as we both trudged up the stairs to bed.