Mr. Burns and Other Plays. Anne Washburn

shimmers on the newly deadly glass.

      C: That bottle’s all in jags now—watch out!

       Revealed: Jeremiah, holding a freshly broken bottle.

      JEREMIAH:

       And I will take from them the voice of mirth

       and the voice of gladness,

       the voice of the bridegroom, and the

       voice of the bride for the land shall be desolate

       The whole city shall flee for the noise of the horsemen

       and bowmen; they shall go into thickets

       and climb up upon the rocks

       Destruction upon destruction is cried

       for the whole land is spoiled

       and I will make this city

       desolate

       and an hissing;

       Everyone that passes thereby shall be astonished

       Thus saith the Lord of Hosts:

       Indicates the bottle:

       “Even so will I break this people, and this city.”

       Exits calmly upstage to silence.

       Frog sounds begin.

      CHAPTER 2

       The Dark, and many frogs. There are many different types of frogs. There is one frog with a low deep occasional bellow. There are more frogs with a businesslike mid-range twang, and there are many many little peepers with a high yammering chirrup. It’s a racket.

       Two flashlight beams joggle forward, stop.

       Emily and PT have paused to listen to the frogs.

      EMILY: And people leave the city to get away from the noise.

      PT: Where’s the moon?

      EMILY: What do you think the decibel level is? Bet it’s worse than Times Square.

      PT: No I mean it, where’s the moon?

      EMILY: It isn’t up yet.

      PT: Or is it new.

      EMILY: Um, it might be new. I’m trying to think . . .

      PT: Because if it’s new, it’s not coming up tonight at all, or, it’s already up, but it’s invisible.

      EMILY: I’m trying to remember the last time I saw it.

      PT: Don’t you think that’s creepy?

      EMILY: It’s coming back.

      PT: No no, that’s my point: It isn’t gone. It’s right above us, right now, but it’s invisible. Don’t you think that’s creepy? This big old dark invisible moon hanging over our heads.

       Beat.

      EMILY: No. I don’t. Hang on though okay, this is driving me a bit nuts:

       Lets loose with a prolonged operatic vocal extravagance.

       Stunned silence from the frogs.

       An exploratory chirrup.

       Silence.

       Then, tentatively, they start up again, cautiously at first, but soon regain their original vigor.

       A bit of a (Human) silence.

      PT (Sincerely): That’s amazing. You creeped the frogs out.

      EMILY: I didn’t creep them out. I . . . impressed them.

       She switches off her light.

      PT: The frogs were like: what is that.

      EMILY: Hey,

       She jostles his arm.

       Turn yours off okay.

      PT: Why?

      EMILY: I want to see what the dark is like.

       He does so.

      PT: You’re the Frog Mama.

       She sings just a bit, low.

       You’re going to give them a heart attack, you keep after them like that.

       She continues singing low, a little louder; the frogs continue, undisturbed.

       (Pursuing the joke a little longer than is amusing) Because how often are they visited by the Froggie Goddess, like it’s got to be stressful.

       She pursues the song a little longer, ends it mid-verse, or, at any rate, before the song is done.

       Silence. Frogs.

       Seriously though, I don’t think I can hack this dark. I’m a city boy. I’m used to being lit up from above at all times.

       Bit of a beat.

      EMILY: There are the stars.

      PT: They’re pretty. They’re not really doing it for me.

      EMILY: There are comets.

       A flash of light across the stage, and a whoosh; fades out. Another flash of light and whoosh; fades out.

      PT (Not convinced): Mmmmn.

      EMILY: There are fireflies.

       A swarm of fireflies enters, and performs a beautiful luminous dance. The laws of nature are repealed.

       Emily starts to sing a low firefly song to accompany them.

       The Heart of the Summer

      ALL WOMEN:

       is shot through with Stars

      EMILY (Continues alone):

       Dazzles of Forever

       Abducted in Jars

      THE AIR RESPONDS (The Air is masculine in character . . .):

       More wonderful

       than fire

       is the air!

       without which

       nothing glowing

       would be there!

       The fireflies exit, the frogs fade out.

      CHAPTER 3

      THE NON-PROPHET: I was continually being tackled and wrestled to the ground by an angel. I had to be on my guard wherever I went. My eyes always darting about, on the watch for a flick of a feather whisking behind a corner. A suspicious glimmer from behind a parked car. A flock of doves rose up just to my left and I freaked out.

      CHAPTER 4

       Hananiah is speaking.

      HANANIAH (Luminous):

       When God comes to you . . .

       and he does come to you—

       you say: he hasn’t come to me

       you’ll never hear his voice

       You’ve been awake in the night

       in the dark listening

       for a word a touch,

       (you’ve been desolate)

       you’ve said: I am alone

       you’ve said: I am abandoned

       he will not speak to me . . .

       He does not speak to you.

       While you are writhing