What’s Your Sign?

A celestial comedy in three acts by Terry J. Aman

 

Dramatis Personæ

Crystal Vanya a.k.a. Bess Leitfeldt: A beautiful blonde astrologer, mid-30s

Derek Leitfeldt: A sullen teen, her son.

Faqir Markku: A delivery man.

Enid Gray: Another sullen teen, Derek’s study partner and potential girlfriend. Physically not dissimilar to Derek.

Sherrie Weiler: Assistant features coordinator for the Upstart, a hip young news circular trying to establish itself in Minneapolis coffeehouses.

Karma 2020/Marshall Trewell: Crystal’s tousled young assistant and lover, early 30s.

Mark Leitfeldt: An ex-husband

Jack Harmon: Weiler’s editor.

Myrtle Weintraub: She’s 86.

 

 

Setting:

 

A lavishly appointed sitting/living/bedroomy type situation with a lot of sun coming in from the east window. It’s late May. The light catches a multitude of plastic beaded curtainy and windchimy type things, functional to the extent that the chime in the east window is chiming constantly, a gentle, tinkling type thing that is both irritating and background at the same time. At right is a bathroom door. Then the east window (Open), the southeast window, the south window, the southwest window and the west window, all of which look out over downtown Minneapolis, each of which has a star sign painted over it (It doesn’t matter which ones, just so they’re in order).

There’s a bureau flopping over with clothes between the east and southeast windows with a $10 bill in it, and an incense burner on it, along with one of those fiber optic color-changing thingies, and finger cymbals. There’s a potted plant and a wall clock which starts out at 9:06 a.m. between the southeast and south windows. There’s a telescope with a bra hanging over it at the south window with a notebook on the floor beside it. There’s a rather fabulously detailed star chart between the south and southwest windows, hanging above a CD player, which is playing something ethereal. There’s an armoire between the southwest and west windows, and an exit to the kitchen downstage of the west window.

There are candles on almost every flat surface and scattered around the floor, but in terms of safety, it’s probably better that very few of them be lit. There’s a lot of moving around with a lot of flowing clothes, so keep an eye on things. At least one candle must be lit, however; a green one, and that can be anywhere.

At left there is a desk  with a chair to it and a computer on it. There’s a couch that is somebody’s bed but hasn’t been made up in days with a yellow feather duster and a little bell hidden in and among the bedclothes. An empty vodka bottle lies on the floor in front of the couch.

There’s a huge ottoman serving as a bedside table in front of the couch. On it there is a lamp with little tinkling things all over it and a speakerphone. There’s a tuffety type huge tasseled pillow on the floor next to the couch. CRYSTAL sits on the tuffet, dressed in a flowing caftan robe with bright colors. Close at hand is a deck of Tarot, a Magic 8 ball, a dozen or so of those foldie-askie things 8-year-old girls make, a tray with a half-full glass of orange juice, the remains of a bowl of cornflakes and some tea. TREWELL lies down out of sight behind the couch.

 LIGHTS UP. SOUNDS: Muffled street noises, CD player and the tinkling of the windchime, and CRYSTAL, chanting.

 

 

Excerpt: Act 1

 

(Speakerphone rings)

 

CRYSTAL: (Reaches over and hits a button) Peace and joy (Tinkles dangly thingies on lamp), Enchantress Crystal Vanya speaking, may I brighten your day?

SHERRIE: (Over phone) You might indeed, Ms. Vanya. You might very well brighten my day at that.

CRYSTAL: (Ecstatic) Sherrie!

SHERRIE: (Rumpled) Miss Weiler, if you don’t mind.

CRYSTAL: But Sherrie, we’ve worked so closely together this past month I feel we’re practically sisters.

SHERRIE: (Darkly) Sisters?

CRYSTAL: (Hopefully) Cousins?

SHERRIE: Former cousins, if you don’t get your daily load of crap down here pretty well pronto.

CRYSTAL: (Dreamily) If by that you mean the insights which lift the spirits and warm the heart ...

SHERRIE: I mean your thirteen pandering little blocks of pabulum — the signs, the colors and the birthday.

CRYSTAL: (Stung) Meaning no disrespect, Ms. Weiler, but in confidence you are doing me a deep disservice. (Handles Jackson crystal, stands, walks a few paces SL) I assure you I’m using the latest, most accurate means of prognostication at hand. I am an oracle, and I chart the stars using the best technology available (In turning, gestures unconsciously perhaps at computer on desk) — the Karma 2020. I have at my hand a vivid outline as to how everyone’s day is going to go.

SHERRIE: (Has heard this all before) Ms. Vanya ...

CRYSTAL: (Rushing these lines) Can I help it if I’m limited to only the broadest elements by the tiny amount of space you give me in the Upstart and the wildly divergent life situations of all the people who were born at roughly the same time?

SHERRIE: Just get it to me quick, see? I’ve got a noon meeting and a 4 p.m. press run and you don’t have all day.

CRYSTAL: (Sits again at tuffet) Aye, aye, mon capitan.

SHERRIE: And no more of that Euro-crap either. “Upstart” is coffee hype for coffee types, and we’re keeping you only so long as you produce, got me?

 

(Dial tone until CRYSTAL hits button again)

 

CRYSTAL: (To phone) Have a dreamy day. (To herself) Well then, time to get to work. (Centers, focuses, addresses the air SL) Computer?

KARMA 2020: (Obviously a person, and a hungover person at that) Beep.

CRYSTAL: Computer, give me an accurate reading on where Mercury might be sought today, and where we might seek him tomorrow.

KARMA 2020: (Monotone) The planet Mercury may be sought ... outside.

CRYSTAL: Outside?

KARMA 2020: It’s an accurate reading Enchantress. Mercury is not in this room. Therefore, Mercury is outside.

CRYSTAL: (Nonplussed) Karma, may I safely anticipate the same breath-taking accuracy on all of your readings — the sun, the moon and the other planets?

KARMA 2020: No.

CRYSTAL: (Stands, faces SL and potentially the computer on her desk) You mean to tell me you don’t even have them all pretty securely nailed down as being somewhere “outside” this apartment?

KARMA 2020: Jupiter’s gone missing.

CRYSTAL: (Getting irked, rubbing her temples) Well, if Jupiter were to be found INSIDE and we were, y’know, to be LOOKING for it, it’d explain the relatively voluminous amount of GAS you’ve got masquerading as your thought capacitors.

KARMA 2020: You asked for accuracy, Enchantress. Not precision.

CRYSTAL: (Walks behind couch, hands on hips and looks down) It’s a good thing you’re reasonably good in bed or I’d have gotten rid of you long ago.

KARMA 2020 (In the person of MARSHALL TREWELL appears from behind the couch, managing a grin): Two things, then.

CRYSTAL: Two?                                                                                    

TREWELL: I know that telescope is more than a laundry rack.

CRYSTAL: (Smiling) There is that, yes.

TREWELL: (Grinning, gets up, stretches) I even saw Uranus last night.

CRYSTAL: (Smacks his ass) Never mind about that. Just give me the readings you took last night.

TREWELL: (Gets notebook) I don’t see why you don’t just make these things up all by yourself.

CRYSTAL: All the best astrologers have computers. (Moves to him, hugs and kisses him). And as long as you’re willing to be my Karma 2020, I’m happy to have you.

 

 

Excerpt: Act 2

 

(Crystal is fretting over Sadie Sophra, a rival astrologist who has usurped her horoscope column)

 

TREWELL: (Hands her a coffee) You’re taking this whole thing so seriously.

CRYSTAL: It is serious. (Finds Upstart, holds it) Writing a horoscopes column for a coffeehouse daily is something I’m good at. It really helps people.

TREWELL: Darling, I love you, but it is an amusement at best. (Takes a standing position SR of couch)

CRYSTAL: No, I have a gift. A true gift.

TREWELL: You should probably return it for store credit. You’ve only been using it for a couple of months.

CRYSTAL: Well, I never had the chance before. I was too busy being all wrapped up in Mark’s life and in Derek’s life and meanwhile I was just fading away. (Considers) Maybe I should be happy about Mark’s tawdry little cliché of a fling. The divorce was kind of a wakeup call. (Stands, crosses to TREWELL) I intend to wake up. (Kisses him) I’ve been asleep for too long.

TREWELL: And what about getting fired? Is that a wakeup call?

CRYSTAL: No, that’s just Sherrie being a bitch. (Refocus) An amusement. Some people plan their lives around these things.

TREWELL: Your loyal fans.

CRYSTAL: I get fan mail, phone calls. (Considers) It was getting very commercial anyway. Sherrie made me do the drink orders. (Flings herself back on couch) The stars do not care what you drink with your bagel. (Looks at Upstart)

TREWELL: Coffeehouses do. Well, I guess Sadie can tell them as well as anyone else.

CRYSTAL: It was harmless. Wait a minute. (Sits up, still scanning Upstart, frowning) This is for today?

TREWELL: Hot off the stands.

CRYSTAL: But ... but this can’t be right.

TREWELL: (Crossing SR behind couch) Yes, well, evidence would seem to argue against some of it.

CRYSTAL: You question my accuracy? Look at her opening line: “On a sunny day like this, you’ll want your breakfast blend on the veranda. So by all means, take it to the streets.”

TREWELL: (Looks out window) Truth be told, this rain took even the Channel 6 guy by surprise.

CRYSTAL: That hack can’t describe the weather, let alone predict it. So now that we’re soaked to the skin on our “ve-ran-dahs,” what does Sadie Sophra predict for the day?

TREWELL: (Sits at tuffet munching bagel)

CRYSTAL: Oh, this is cute. She has little animals by the signs. So what the hell does it mean to have a monkey day?

TREWELL: Who’s having a monkey day?

CRYSTAL: Aries, it looks like. “With the sun shining bright in Aries, you’ll need a harmonica to express all the joy in your heart. Have a latte!”

TREWELL: But ...

CRYSTAL: The sun is in Taurus today, isn’t it?

TREWELL: (Grabs notebook from ottoman) Seems pretty conclusive. 17 arcseconds above Aldebaran ...

CRYSTAL: So what SKY is she looking at?

TREWELL: (Laughing) No idea ...

CRYSTAL: Moon is moving in Virgo, so that’s right. Jupiter’s in Leo ... oh, my God.

TREWELL: What?

CRYSTAL: She’s pulled this from a Web site.

TREWELL: What?

CRYSTAL: She’s lifting this stuff directly.

TREWELL: But ...

CRYSTAL: It’s obvious! (Scans) Look, look, look, right here. I knew it. “Aquarius: In gracious harmony with fellow air signs, Libra and Virgo, keep confiding confidences and try some honey in your tea.”

TREWELL: Oh no ...

CRYSTAL: Aquarius is a WATER sign.

TREWELL: We’ve been over this before, darling. Aquarius is an air sign.

CRYSTAL: Nonsense. How can anything called “The Water-Bearer” not be a water sign?

TREWELL: Look, in that the signs have anything at all to do with elements ...

CRYSTAL: Fire, water, earth and air.

TREWELL: In that they have anything to do with anything, tradition states ...

CRYSTAL: Tradition? Common sense, more like. Some things are earthy. Some things are fiery. And some things ...

TREWELL: Are just stupid. (Pick your battles) Okay, so beyond Sophie getting Aquarius’s elemental wrong ...

CRYSTAL: Absolutely wrong.

TREWELL: Except when you check in with any other astrologer in the world ...

CRYSTAL: (Ignoring him) “Keep confiding confidences” ... Wait. That gossipy Venus is floating around in Aquarius, isn’t she?

TREWELL: (Consults notebook) 27 arcseconds north and east of the main star, actually. Sadalmelik.

CRYSTAL: (Genuinely concerned) So absolutely not. Aquarians shouldn’t confide anything today. Of all the damned irresponsible ... And she’s got ... what the hell?

TREWELL: What is it?

CRYSTAL: She’s got Scorpio as a water sign.

TREWELL: Darling ...

CRYSTAL: Scorpio is a FIRE sign. Just ask anyone who’s ever been stung by a scorpion.

TREWELL: I mean it, Crystal, there’s probably a reason you got fired, here.

CRYSTAL: I’m not wrong. While she’s telling Aquarians to spill their guts at a point when they shouldn’t trust anyone, she’s telling the Leos they’re having a rabbit — a rabbit day? What the HELL does that mean? — and she’s marking out ... oh, Jee-zoos, she’s got Aries as a fire sign, here.

TREWELL: What ...

CRYSTAL: She’s probably thinking that rams are fiery, so never mind they’re an EARTH sign ... oh, and she’s got Saturn in Leo, too. “Saturn pops by to say ‘hi,’ so brew a nice iced tea and plan to sit a spell.”

TREWELL: (Ticking off fingers,hoping to make a point) Okay, Aries, Taurus and Capricorn. But isn’t Virgo an earth sign?

CRYSTAL:  It’s an air sign dear.

TREWELL: (About to give up)

CRYSTAL: Virgo, Gemini and Libra. Virginity is a state of being, it’s an air sign.

TREWELL: (Trying to steer conversation back to consensus reality) Anyway, Saturn’s in Capricorn today.

CRYSTAL: I know that, darling. That’s what I’m saying.

 

(Speakerphone rings)

 

CRYSTAL: (Sits at tuffet) Peace and joy (Tinkles dangly thingies on lamp), Enchantress Crystal Vanya speaking, may I brighten your day?

MYRTLE: (Angry, over phone) I’m NOT a monkey!

CRYSTAL: Oh dear ...

MYRTLE: I’m sitting outside and I’m cold and I’m wet and I’m not a monkey.

CRYSTAL: (Covers speakerphone with her hand) It’s an Aries. (Into speakerphone, all comfort and consolation) I know you’re not dear heart. They used someone different today.

MYRTLE: I don’t have a harmonica.

CRYSTAL: That’s fine, dear.

MYRTLE: It’s cold out here.

CRYSTAL: Why don’t you go inside? You’ll find your day is ... (Trying to remember) ... You’ll have a purple day if you go inside.

MYRTLE: A what?

CRYSTAL: A purple day. Stay inside where it’s dry and have a mocha.

MYRTLE: Oh, I love purple.

CRYSTAL: That’s lovely ...

MYRTLE: I’m 86!

CRYSTAL: Yes, that’s ...

MYRTLE: I was borned April 1.

TREWELL: That explains something ...

CRYSTAL: (To TREWELL) Hush! (To speakerphone) Yes, dear, you just go inside and have a nice warm cup of coffee and everything will be very purple indeed. Have a dreamy day. (Hits button, hangs up)

CRYSTAL: (Gets up, paces) Of all the nonsense.

TREWELL: No kidding. What’s going on in that world?

CRYSTAL: No, not her! Not that dear sweet little person! This Sophra wench. So irresponsible, telling 86-year-olds to go outside and have a latte! And that monkey thing!

TREWELL: Well, at least someone’s reading it, I guess.

CRYSTAL: It’s too irresponsible. It’s just wrong, wrong, wrong.

 

 

Excerpt: Act 3

 

(Enid and Trewell clean up the room as Crystal readies for her meeting with her former boss.)

 

ENID: (During cleanup operation, finds one of Crystal’s shawls and puts it on) So you’re the Space Cowboy.

TREWELL: (Grins) I am the Karma 2020. I tell Crystal where the planets are.

ENID: And this helps how?

TREWELL: The theory goes, if you’re born at such-and-such a time, at such-and-such a date, there’s star signs, rising signs and sun signs. These influence every last detail of your life, and by reading your horoscope, you can prepare yourself.

ENID: Okay, so, like, I’m a Virgo, and I’m going to be really not ready for a precalc final. Shouldn’t that be in there somewhere, and I can just, like, not show up that day? Or, maybe when I signed up for the class, it should have said, “Look, sweetheart, just take a band elective or something ’cuz you’re gonna blow the final big time.”

TREWELL: Well, there’s only like five or six lines available for each sign. She’s got to pick and choose what she puts in there.

ENID: (Bumps telescope) Oops!

TREWELL: What? (Looks up at her)

ENID: I think I may have moved it.

TREWELL: Oh, don’t worry about it. (Crosses to telescope, picks up bra) I know where it all is to find it again.

ENID: (Watches as TREWELL crosses back to bureau) So, you’re serious about all these “moon in the seventh house” things, huh?

TREWELL: (Folding bra and putting it in the bureau) Well, Crystal is.

ENID: What gives? Is she just nuts?

TREWELL: She’s not nuts. Crystal is — what’s the best way to put this? — sensitive. She’s seen a lot of changes this past year, with Mark cheating on her, the divorce, and Derek changing schools. Starting a daily column — even a horoscopes column — you have to be dedicated.

ENID: Or committed.

TREWELL: Well, she cares. Look (Points to clock) Up until yesterday, she had that clock set ahead an hour so that she could give what she felt was honestly the next day’s reading. She quizzes me regularly about the movements of the planets so we’re both sharp ...

 

(shower shuts off, pause, hair dryer turns on)

 

TREWELL: (No pause during these SOUNDS, points to Star Chart) ... and she keeps that chart updated regularly. She wants genuinely to do a good job. (Reflective, as ENID exits SL-Kitchen with Sprite bottle, bagels and classifieds) I wish she could just step back from it and see how much fun it actually is.

ENID: (Enters SL-Kitchen) How could it not be, just making stuff up and getting paid for it? (Begins straightening bedclothes, as TREWELL puts coffee cups on tray and retrieves coffee cups.)

 

(hair dryer shuts off)

 

TREWELL: Well, normally, she’s very precise about where everything is, all the planets and stars and whatnot. She thinks very deeply about it, concentrates, even agonizes about the meanings of the various conjunctions. (Crosses to SL-Kitchen) She consults diagrams, documents, scrolls, texts and revisits things constantly. (Exits SL-Kitchen with tray)

ENID: Is “anal retentive” hyphenated?

TREWELL: (Re-enters SL-Kitchen) But yesterday, when Mark called, she just snapped. Ideas were just flowing from her, almost instinctively.

ENID: (US of couch) Yeah?

TREWELL: (DS of desk) She was moving in the spirit and her qi set her free.

CRYSTAL: (Enters SR-Bathroom, looking incredibly businesslike) Which promptly got me fired.