A dimly lit room. A dinning table center. On the table there is a long taper candle. A kitchen sink in the back wall and a small window upstage right. Downstage left there is a front door.
( Lola, early twenties, stands by the window.She opens the window and looks outside.She pulls out a paper plane from her pocket, straightens it and throws it out the window. She looks outside…nothing.)
( We hear keys shaking, someone is at the door. Lola notices, quickly adjusts herself while the door is being unlocked. She quickly closes the window and a man enters.)
( Man looks at Lola, she looks back but slowly averts her gaze to the ground.)
(man goes to dinning table, keys rattling, sits.)
(Silence)
MAN
I am waiting.
(Lola goes to kitchen sink. She takes a plate, fork and a steak knife. brings them to the table. She lights the candle and takes a seat at the table.)
MAN
No. Lola has not earned her place at the table, Lola will sit on the floor.
(Lola looks at him, nods, sits on floor.)
MAN
Good. (Man is about to eat, notices Lola staring at him.) Are you hungry?
(Lola nods)
I can not hear you.
LOLA
Yes.
MAN
Would you like to eat?
LOLA
Yes.
MAN
Will you be polite and not eat like a filthy animal?
LOLA
(Slight Pause)Yes.
(Man cuts a small piece of meat, throws it on the floor. Lola hurriedly goes for it)
MAN
No, we wouldn’t like that, would we?
(Lola slows down, picks it up slowly and starts to eat.)
Slower.
(Lola slows down.)
Slower.
(Lola slows down again.)
(Lola is finished.)
I am disappointed in you Lola.
(Lola does not respond.)
Do you know why?
(Lola does not respond.)
Do you know what you did wrong?
LOLA
No.
MAN
No, You are to wait for the men to finish their meal, and then you may eat. That is the proper etiquette.
(Silence.)
LOLA
Sorry.
MAN
Sorry is not sufficient. You have to make it up for me, are you able do that?
LOLA
Yes.
MAN
Thank you,Lola.(Slight pause) How about a story?
LOLA
(Slight pause) Sure.
MAN
Very well. Do my favorite this time, but do it well.
LOLA
(Lola takes a breathe. Man puts out candle, we can no longer see him. The lights focus on Lola.)
Once upon a time in a magical land far away, there lived the kindest and most talented painter the world had ever seen. He could draw anything and everything imaginable. His paintbrush easily recreated all kinds of scenes with the most vividly opalescent colors. Deep blue seas, azure skies, green mountains or even sandy deserts were more lifelike in his paintings. All kinds of exquisite creatures with their different shapes and sizes came to life with a stroke of his brilliance. And most importantly he could draw people too, with an unbelievable degree of accuracy. See, this world was not like our world, It had no mirrors and absolutely no reflections of any kind. The only way for someone to know what they looked like was through a painting. Let’s say someone wanted to capture a memory; a loved one in the prime of their beauty before it fades away or a wedding ceremony, maybe a family gathering, or simply a portrait; it could only be painted. “What about cameras? Why didn’t anyone think of that!” You might say and doesn’t light reflect into our eyes so we could see.” Well cameras did not exist in this world and lights works differently, otherwise the story wouldn’t work. Now none of the villagers could draw, their abilities resembled the countless heaps of talentless six year olds, whose mothers would stick their drawings on fridges alongside souvenir magnets, devoid of any kind imagination or craftsmanship, bought from a scam shop in their summer trip to Europe or Africa if they considered themselves “Risk-takers”.
Our painter was the one and only painter would could paint a painting in this quaint village. He was in constant demand, painting everyone and everything. Every single second of his day was spent painting. He painted day and night, sometimes he would forget to eat or even sleep. His talent was godlike, yet he was never arrogant. All he cared about was making people happy, by filling their lives with beauty. Bringing a smile to a child’s face was enough to make his day. He could never say no to anyone, no matter how strange or difficult the request. Everyone in the town appreciated his kindness, he truly was the most loved person in the entire village. One day every year, all the villagers celebrated him. It was a day full of festivity, food, music and dancing. They called it “The Painter’s Day Parade”. They would parade him all over the village, cheer for him, play him music, write him songs, ballads, instrumentals, chants (This village had an abundance of musicians) and they would do anything he asked for. Yet our painter had always wished for only one thing, to simply know what he looked like….but no one could ever grant him that wish. Although our painter spread joy all over the land…deep down inside he was never happy, because all he wished for was to see himself. Many years had passed, many artworks had been created and his desperation only grew larger.
Finally, on the Painter’s Day Parade a brilliant idea came to his mind, he thought “Why don’t I paint myself?” So he sat down and shaved his hair, beard and eyebrows and drew them. Although he looked very strange, it made him a little bit happier.The villagers came to take him for the parade, but he told them that he was busy drawing himself. Not entirely satisfied, the painter took a plier, pulled out a tooth and then another and another until he had no teeth left. He drew the teeth, edging a tiny bit closer to a complete self portrait, at the expense of not being able to speak. When the villagers visited him again, no one could understand him and they were taken aback by his foul looking mouth. He gestured with his hands and shooed them away. Noticing that his tongue and lips were of no use, he took a pair of scissors, and cut them right off. It hurt him a lot at first, but he didn’t mind the pain, his urge to see himself numbed his pain. He then took a a knife, slashed his cheeks and hacked away all the skin on his face. It was a very bloody affair but since our painter always thought positively, he decided to paint using his blood, saying to himself “This will be the most beautiful painting ever made, a true artistic expression. All the villagers will be proud of my creation.”. The villagers were more eager to drink and dance, they kept calling for him, urging him to leave the painting and join the celebrations. Their shouts annoyed him to no end, leaving him unable to focus. The next logical step was to cut off his ears, “There is no way anyone would’ve come up with that” he thought to himself. He regained his focus, composed himself cut off his ears and swiftly drew them. The villagers cries were to no avail, and the celebration was slowly dying. Only left with his eyes and nose, he was now getting extremely close to the final touches. He decided to invite all the village to see the final strokes of his masterpiece. He approached the villagers with joy, but his appearance frightened all the children. Imagine being an eight year old, seeing a man with no flesh, skin, lips, tongue or teeth growling at you, that must be a very unpleasant experience. Disappointed by the villagers reaction, the painter went back to his painting, and said to himself “It doesn’t matter, when they see the complete painting they’ll certainly get excited again!” That thought got him really excited, he was so excited that he quickly took the knife and cut off his nose. His excitement reached its pinnacle and he gouged both his eyes at once. Immediately realizing his mistake, accompanied by agonizing pain, the painter ran all over the village with his incomplete painting, two eyes and a bloody disfigured face. All kinds of sounds came out of his deformed mouth, but the endless screams did not help, they made the situation much worse, as the children were frightened by his appearance.They thought that he had turned into a monster. The villagers found him absolutely disgusting, no one even dared to go near him. They finally came to a conclusion you would never expect from uneducated, simple minded villagers; they determined that a demon had possessed the painter. Fearing for their lives and their children, the villagers chased after the demon with torches. They finally caught and locked him in a room on hill far far away. The painter was left isolated in complete darkness, with an incomplete self portrait, unable to see or ever paint again.
(Silence)
(Lights change back to how they were.)
MAN
I think this is your greatest performance Lola, exquisite.
(Lola nods.)
You may take a seat at the table.
(Lola takes a seat.)
This story holds a special place in my heart. I loved to hear it when I was younger.(Pause) Now let us eat.
(He cuts a piece throws it to Lola, she is afraid to eat it.)
Do not worry Lola, I will not punish you.
(She is hesitant.)
I promise.
(He assures her with a nod, she takes the piece and eats it politely.)
(He cuts a piece for himself, eats it.)
The food is cold.
(She looks at him, doesn’t know what to say.)
(In anger banging the table) The food is cold!
(Lola is startled, silence.)
Do you know the difference between hot and cold?
LOLA
(Muffled voice.) Yes.
MAN
Then why did you not provide an answer when I commented that the food is cold?… Clearly you do not know the difference. Come here.
(She is afraid to approach.)
There is nothing to fear, I will not punish you for something you are not aware of.
(She doesn’t move.)
(Calmly) I said come here.
(She goes, he takes her hand.)
Let me demonstrate the difference.
(He lights the taper candle and holds her hand above it.)
This is hot.
(He takes her hand and places it on the piece of meat.)
This is cold.
(Again takes her hand above the candle.)
This is hot.
(Takes it back to the piece of meat.)
This is cold.
(Finally takes her hand again, places it above the candle and holds it there a while.)
What is this?
LOLA
Hot.
(She is in pain, on the verge of tears.)
MAN
You must not cry, Lola. I want you to be strong.
(She struggles, the pain is unbearable but manages not to cry.)
What is it?
LOLA
Hot.
(He is clearly enjoying her pain. But as she struggles, she slyly takes the steak knife. She stabs, slashes his face and neck until she is out of breath. He falls to the floor and his keys rattle. She takes his seat.)
(Long Silence.)
(a knock on the door.)
( Lola goes to the man’s dead body, takes the keys and goes to the door. She opens the door and returns to her seat.)
(A child holding the paper plane enters, looks around, sees the dead man on the ground. Looks at Lola.)
LOLA
The food was cold.
End.