Wednesday, February 11, 2015

The Red Coat

Vello leads everyone out to the bus stop.

The bus has just gone.

This is ridiculous, says Katherine. I'm getting a taxi. Who's coming?

Me, says Rosamunda.

We might stop off at the Art Gallery, says Katherine. I want to see Icons before it's finished.

Ooh, yes, says Rosamunda. I want to see Icons. Let's go. But what about our luggage?

David will see to it, says Katherine. TAXI!

......

At the bus stop. Waiting.

I think we should get a taxi, says David, surveying the extra luggage.

Can't afford it, says Vello. This production is milking us dry. By the way, you and Ray each owe me a hundred dollars. Registration.

David resigns himself to catching the bus.

What play are we doing, asks Ray?

Otters, says Terence.

We're not doing otters, says Sweezus.

But they said, says Terence.

What's this? says Vello. Otters? No, we're doing Candide.

We always do Candide, says David.

I don't know it, says Ray. We didn't do it at Christian College.

You'll be perfect, says Vello. It's about disillusionment.

What's this illusionment? asks Terence.

DIS-illusionment, says David. It's when things aren't as good as you thought they would be.

Like Ray, says Terence. He isn't.

Ray glowers at Sweezus.

Don't look at me, says Sweezus.

He's your baby, says Ray.

Not exactly, says Sweezus. He fell off the Sagrada Famiglia in Barcelona.

My palace, says Terence. I had a parrot.

Ray knows enough about Christianity to put two and two together.

Baby Jesus! Feathered gecko shorts notwithstanding.

Ha ha, look at Ray's face! cackles Vello.

.......

Katherine and Rosamunda have stopped off at the Art Gallery and gone in to see Icons.

Masterpieces from the collections of the Musée des Arts Decoratifs, Paris.

A survey of contemporary fashion, over the past sixty years.

(Weird faded clothes on creepy white dummies).

I remember the New Look, says Katherine. It was after the war. I had a red coat with a cinched waist and very full skirt. I thought it was lovely. I wore it to a christening....

Rosamunda isn't listening. She is gathering ideas for the play she will soon be directing.

They involve a lot of padding.


No comments: