CAROUSEL WIND
Act 1 Scene 1
The Characters:
Enigma,
the Italian mime artist
Mr. Poet, the Troubled Troubadour
Joy Montagne, Girl With Chestnut Hair
George Montagne, Great Engineer
Molly Montagne, wife of Great Engineer
Grandad
Nanny
The "Director"
Starlet
(who doesn't have any lines)
Todd Montagne, Toddling Astronaut
Laughing Lady
Fortune Teller
Ice Cream Man
Pretzel Man
Record Man
Window Shopper
©2006 by Stefan des Lauriers
Act
I Scene I
[Enigma the Italian mime artist and Mr. Poet are walking along the Jersey shore
just before sunrise. Mr. Poet has a guitar strapped on and is strumming it.
He sings "Hearts in Harmony" as the two come upon a trumpet shell
in the sand — just as Joy meets them coming from the opposite direction.
As the song finishes Enigma picks up the shell and holds it to his ear —
water spurts from his opposite ear.]
Mr. Poet: (Sings)
Come gather round
And join in the song
You get the idea
That you really belong
Let's all join together
No need to rehearse
For love is the song
Of the whole universe
Joy, Enigma, Mr. Poet: (In Harmony)
Let's get
together in a song
When our hearts are in harmony
There's no note that you can sing wrong
When our hearts are in harmony
Mr. Poet: (Sings)
The minstrel's heart
Lives on in a song
And with the same breath
We carry it on
Is love meant to last
Through eternity
The song will be there
Long after he's gone
Joy, Enigma, Mr. Poet: (In Harmony)
Let's get
together in a song
When our hearts are in harmony
There's no note that you can sing wrong
When our hearts are in harmony
Mr. Poet: (Sings
Walk the edge
Of love's shoreline
Gaze at the heart
Of the sea
You're touched
By an arrow of sunlight
That lights up
The sand at your feet
A trumpet shell
That washed ashore
Heralds our love
With a whispered roar
The whole universe
Wrapped up with a song
It's a heartbeat away
If we can just sing along
Joy, Enigma, Mr. Poet: (In Harmony)
Let's get
together in a song
When our hearts are in harmony
There's no note that you can sing wrong
When our hearts are in harmony
Joy
[laughing]
How did you do that? Have water squirt from your ear like that.
Enigma:
I am Enigma, the mime from Italy. When I saw you coming I hooked up my squirting
shell so it looks like I have a hole in my head. Usually I get unsuspecting
girls to smell my flower and squirt them, so you are lucky, today I'm using
a shell. Here you can have this. You put it to your ear and eternity is hear.
Thank you.
My name is Joy. I've been collecting shells for years but never saw one like
this around here. You're a long way from Italy.
Enigma:
This is my friend, Mr. Poet. I'm here visiting him. He's from Montreal. Actually
I'm here to star in a rock video called "Leading Man Gets Lost." I
play a promiscuous clown who breaks the heart of a young starlet. One of my
props is a trick shell. The film takes place on the beach, and at the arcade
with all the rides.
Joy:
We have a summer-house here. My grandparents will be visiting us tomorrow.
Enigma:
Didn't I see you on the carousel yesterday afternoon?
Joy:
Yes, I was there. When I come down to the shore I stop by the merry-go-round
in the arcade. I live a block away from a carousel in Paramus. It's at the Garden
State Plaza. Often I go there and sit on the bench to watch the children smile.
I write children's stories, well— think up stories sitting by the bench
at Carousel Square. The carousel has pictures of Venice all over it. To me it
is a magical place. I'm thinking of writing a story called "Her Majesty's
Magical Merry-Go-Round."
Mr. Poet:
Nice alliteration.
Joy:
The story has a young princess sitting beside a
magical merry-go-round. There are murals painted on the top of the merry-go-round;
scenes of whimsical places. Every time the carousel stops, actually it's a carousel;
a picture of a different realm appears. Whenever the princess gets on —
that's the world she travels to.
Enigma:
There's a Venetian Carousel in my hometown in Italy. It's at the Piazza Ducale
– in Vigevano (Pavia). That's where I do my mime routine. Entertaining
the people who stand in line.
Joy:
So we have something in common. A Venetian Carousel. Why don't you show me one
of your skits?
Enigma:
I'll do the invisible maze. But I must warn you if I do it here the maze will
not be invisible...
Joy:
I know. Because you will leave footprints in the sand.
[Enigma does his mime and the background noises become silent. When he finishes
there is the faint sound of a bell and the sound of a carousel.]
Mr. Poet [Sings while walking in the invisible maze strumming his guitar in
a mock trance.]
I saw the ghost of Michelangelo
It was in the maze of metaphors
Or was it the moon in cameo appearance
That made an image of that old chiseler
Joy,
Enigma: [in harmony]
O why are you so troubled my young troubadour
Meandering in the Maze of Metaphors
Joy,
Enigma: [in harmony]
O why are you so troubled my young troubadour
Meandering in the Maze of Metaphors
Joy,
Enigma: [in harmony]
O why are you so troubled my young troubadour
Meandering in the Maze of Metaphors
Joy,
Enigma: [in harmony]
O why are you so troubled my young troubadour
Meandering in the Maze of Metaphors
Joy,
Enigma: [in harmony]
O why are you so troubled my young troubadour
Meandering in the Maze of Metaphors
I was on the
verge of losing all hope
When a mime offered me an invisible rope
I was extracted from the jaws of that cavity
By defying the law of literary gravity
Joy:
You could have ended it with
"All I need," I mimed
"Is the perfect metaphor
Something like a clown
With a seashell on the shore"
Mr. Poet:
The universal metaphor...
That's what I'm looking for
You may think it's a trumpet shell
Because it resembles the shape of a galaxy...
Since the dawn of time people have longed
To be remembered in art
A man and woman in love
Are the perfect metaphor
That is what resembles the universe
Not an empty shell...
Joy:
To me the universal metaphor
Is a star
When I was a child
A mystical drifter's wagon
Parked by our school
And a man in a top hat
With a mustache
Like handlebars
Charged us all
A nickel to see the star
In his magic telescope
I paid my nickel
And saw the outline
Of a star
Drawn on the glass
At the far end of
The telescope
It wasn't even a real
Telescope for it didn't
Make things far away
Any closer
I felt bad
Wasting my nickel
For I had seen better
Kaleidoscopes for free.
For years
I thought that hope
Was the star at the end
Of the telescope
Not a trick telescope
But a real telescope
Hope makes the stars
Appear brighter
Than they really are
Enigma:
That sounds like an interesting story.
Joy:
I did write a story about it. It's called the "The Magic Telescope"
It is set in the Sixties when the gas stations had that "Put a Tiger in
your Tank" advertising campaign. I include my brother in the story; he
was a budding kleptomaniac. He'd pilfer people's tiger tails and surreptitiously
stuff them into the cas-caps of the police cars. That really frightened the
mystical drifters. In my story, I ended up with the telescope and whenever I
let someone look through it they'd smile. That was before my brother's accident.
Enigma:
Was the story published?
Joy:
No
Enigma:
Maybe because of the "budding kleptomaniac"
Mr. Poet:
I envision
the image
Of Enigma
On the shore
Lying in the sand
Making a human starfish
A single moonbeam
Lights upon him
Like a cosmic telescope
Enigma:
And I envision Mr. Poet here becoming a star. It was all I could do to convince him to bring his guitar along today. He's burnt out before he even he becomes a star. You can't give up on music just because you can't make a living at it.
Joy:
My grandfather was a Vaudeville entertainer. He never gave up. He did a routine about an "Over the Hill Mountain Climber," about returning to the scene of the climb.
[They come across the ruins of a sand castle and start rebuilding it. Mr. Poet strums the chords to "Forever for a Minute" while Joy and Enigma play in the sand. They are falling in love. Eventually all three start singing as the rising sun becomes orange on their faces. Joy reaches into her bag and pulls out her magic telescope. She hands it to Mr. Poet. He looks through it and smiles.
Joy:
(Sings)
I was building a sand castle
As the sun upon the bay
Became a wand
Of crystal waves
I looked at wrinkled fingers
Speckled with golden sand
And the universe
Was in the palm of my hand
Joy, Mr. Poet, Enigma: (in harmony)
Then a shell
with nothing in it
Made me think about the infinite
And it felt like Forever For a minute
Then I gazed
through a spyglass
At the clouds above the coast
And I saw the light of stars
That had given up the ghost
It was then the billowed sail
Of the moon came into view
Much like a phantom galleon
Manned by a skeleton crew
Joy,
Mr. Poet, Enigma: (in harmony)
Then a shell with nothing in it
Made me think about the infinite
And it felt like Forever For a Minute
Enigma:
The galleon was old and leaking
But not headed for the shore
It was bound to go on seeking
Till it could sail no more
If you think the journey's over
When you've finally sighted land
Your dreams like empty shells
May be washed up on the sand
Joy, Mr. Poet, Enigma: (in harmony)
Then a shell
with nothing in it
Made me think about the infinite
And it felt like Forever For a Minute
Enigma:
I like the
part about the hand speckled with sand.
Like a handful of stars.
Play that song about
The stars
Mr. Poet: (singing)
Long ago I
had a dream
That I would be a star...
[he stops singing]
Mr. Poet:
I don't feel
like
Playing that one...
We could
all be
Poets on a quest
For the perfect rhyme
Architects have
The golden mean
Healers search
For the fountain of youth
And preachers
Speak the perfect truth
Alchemists have
The philosopher's stone
Joy:
And dogs
like to gnaw
On mighty bones...
Mr. Poet:
You know what would be fun? To dig out huge dinosaur footsteps along the beach...
Joy: [gets up to leave]
I must go now. Time to be getting home. We have to go to the airport.
Enigma:
I'd like to see you again
Joy:
I'll meet you in two days. Friday at noon, by the carousel. The same carousel I was on yesterday afternoon.