SHOW ME THE WAY TO GO HOME

LUDWIG VAN BEETHOVEN - DECEMBER 17, 1770 - MARCH 26, 1827
WALTER "WALT" WHITMAN - MAY 31, 1819 - MARCH 26, 1892
HENRY VALENTINE MILLER - DECEMBER 26, 1891 - JUNE 7, 1980
DAVID FOSTER WALLACE - FEBRUARY 21, 1962 - SEPTEMBER 12, 2008

Beethoven's 5th-4th Movement blasts as
A man with long white hair - wildly unkempt - strides forward into the light on the left side of the stage.  He wears a long dark coat but his feet are bare.  At first he stands regally, facing the audience examining them, admiring.  Then the music catches his ear and he gestures to the audience as if to say "listen to what I did here...hear that?" then smiles satisfied, nodding.

Ludvig (German accented English - ESPECIALLY "V" for "W" and vice-versa) - The best part is I can hear again.  That was almost worth dying for.  (He laughs.  Listens again to the music and is again briefly transported--impressed with himself).  So...I arrived here first...I was here for 65 years, alone, before Walter came.  

Light up back and right - a raised portion of the stage - Walt's space.  There's a cot and a small field desk like that of a Civil War General.  Yellow light illuminates the whole front of his body from the right off-stage like the light of the setting sun.  He stands facing it, drinking it in.  He has pages in his hands and he crumples them in absentminded ecstasy.  His long flowing white hair and bushy beard and white suit are all standard Whitman fare.

Ludvig - And we did not speak - not a word (he punctuates his words with a conductor's hand movements) - for more than 80 years...or so.  Don't ask me why or how we came to be together, all of us in this place...I still don't understand even now that there are four of us.  


Beethoven's music fades and the sound of nature pervades.  Breeze, flowing water, leaves, birds, church bell in the distance.  Ludvig faces Walt and admires him drinking in the sun and the air.  There's a pregnant pause. Then the abrupt sound of laughter, stinking, drunken, unhinged laughter.  To Beethoven's right at the front of the left side of the stage Henry is now revealed in bright, florescent light, sitting on a toilet, his white robe draped over his shoulders but otherwise wide open.  He's skinny and white(!) and bald and HENRY and he's reading a newspaper laughing...

Ludvig - The rest are writers.  Three writers and me.  When Henry arrived conversation arrived.  He taught me English!  It was much easier than I thought it would be.  We both speak French...


He addresses Henry.

Ludvig - Henri, comment dit-on 'vagin' en anglais?


Henry - 'Vagin?'


Ludvig - Oui.


Henry - Cunt!


New peals of laughter.


Ludvig - So you see.  Very easy.  Henry adores Walter.  But the feeling, well, the feeling is not mutual.