Ghost in the Light
Sample Pages
ACT II
Scene I
Amsterdam, Holland
1939
AT RISE: HAN is working diligently on a painting as M poses. Her interest for the day has already waned. M looks distractedly into the distance.
HAN:
Quit fidgeting.
(M shifts her position entirely.)
It's not a break.
(M stands and wanders about the room. SHE moves with restlessness and avarice. When HAN looks up, his focus is still upon the stool, as if she still sits there.)
Yes. Yes....
(M comes up behind Han, fits sensuously into the curve of his body as SHE stares into the mirror.)
M:
Look at us. Look at us there. Are we not beautiful?
HAN:
You should sit--
M:
Tell me.
HAN:
(Looking into the mirror)
You are beautiful.
(HAN reaches for her, but M moves away.)
HAN (Cont):
I shouldn't be painting you as a man. I should be painting you as a woman. A beautiful maiden.
M:
A portraiture?
HAN:
Yes.
M:
I thought Johanna was for portraitures.
HAN:
Yes.
M:
(teasing)
I'm not Johanna.
HAN:
Well, then why don't you let me finish.
M:
Because I'm tired of sitting.
HAN:
You know there's a momentum to painting--
M:
I said, I'm tired.
HAN:
(beat)
What can I get for you?
M:
A cigar. A drink and a smoke.
HAN:
The pubs won't be open until eleven.
M:
I'm thirsty.
HAN:
So drink, then.
M:
You drink. I like to watch you drink.
HAN:
Later.
M:
Now.
(HAN pours himself a drink. Drinks it.)
Better?
HAN:
(honestly)
Better.
M:
Yes.
HAN:
Can we work?
M:
No.
(HAN pours himself another drink.)
How much did we make on The Last Supper?
HAN:
Four hundred and eighty.
M:
Thousand.
HAN:
Four hundred and eighty thousand.
M:
I said it would make you rich.
HAN:
Yes.
M:
Only you could paint Vermeer's Supper.
HAN:
Yes.
M:
And the De Hooch? I told you to paint The Drinking Party.
HAN:
You told me to come back to Amsterdam.
M:
And you met Hoogendijk.
HAN:
For a holiday. Not to live.
M:
(mischievously)
How was I supposed to know the war would start?
HAN:
And now were stuck here.
M:
Holland is better, anyway.
HAN:
For what?
M:
For Johanna. For painting.
HAN:
Sometimes I think you're attracted to war.
M:
Do you?
HAN:
It's a pointless, absurd misfortune. Like a fire in the rain. Misery on top of misery.
M:
Perhaps you're afraid of death.
HAN:
Of what?
M:
Death.
HAN:
Death? No.
M:
Han.
HAN:
Perhaps.
(Pause. HAN starts to clean a brush as he speaks.)
When I was little my father told me I had a weak heart. That I was born like that. I ran to my mother and asked, "Will I die soon?"
M:
It's terrible to be weak in this world.
HAN:
I was afraid I would die when I was ten.
M:
Forgotten.
HAN:
I used to have these nightmares. That I was chasing a friend, a playmate--
M:
At night.
HAN:
At night. Across a dark, barren field. There were stars....
M:
But no sound--
HAN:
Like I'd never seen before. I ran after him across the field to a low wall of stones where he'd disappear. But I could hear him, somewhere in the darkness on the other side.
M:
Whispering.
HAN:
Whispering at me, without words.
M:
Yes.
HAN:
Words without meaning.
M:
Yes, my Love.
HAN:
Nonsense.
M:
Morde.
HAN:
(shaking off the memory)
Hm?
M:
Each of us picks the face we put on death.
HAN:
Yes, I suppose so.
M:
An old man. A woman. A child.
HAN:
What was your mother like?
M:
She's whatever you want her to be.
HAN:
No, tell me. I'd like to know what Emma's mother was like.
M:
(with an edge)
What?
HAN:
I just—I want to know who you--
M:
(fiercely)
M. Never Emma, or Emberly.
HAN:
"M" frightens me. Just "M". No more.
M:
Do you know what I want?
HAN:
No.
M:
I want to sit in the sun. To feel it on my neck.
HAN:
Perhaps we could go out later. If we get this done.
M:
(out through the window)
I want to sit under that tree. There, next to the girl with the hat. Do see her?
HAN:
Yes.
M:
Do you see the golden curls in her hair? How they touch her shoulder?
HAN:
Yes.
M:
Fuck her.
HAN:
(beat)
No.
(HAN crosses back and begins working again. M follows.)
M:
Look how warm she is. Her dress is melting off her.
HAN:
Do you know what I want?
M:
She's dying to melt in your arms.
HAN:
I want you to sit back down--
M:
(overlapping)
I want to see her legs wrapped around your waist-- her breasts in your hands.
HAN:
So I can finish this picture.
(M rubs up against him.)
M:
I want to feel you inside her.
HAN:
No!
M:
You can't work.
HAN:
I can't work because you won't sit--
M:
You can't sleep.
HAN:
Stop that.
M:
You’re already there. Admit it. Under that tree. Under her. Fuck her. For me.
HAN:
No.
M:
(pulling Han towards her)
You can pretend its me. That it's my body you're pushing into. Haven't I given you everything? Are we not beautiful? Beautiful.
(HAN embraces M as the lights fade.)
BLACK OUT
