KACIE KOEN / “IN MEMORIAM”
Featured play from our first issue, “Blue Lounge”
SCENE 1
A dilapidated gym. A stool. Streamers are hanging all around, in various heughs of pink and red. Multiple middle-aged men are dancing together with their daughters, enjoying the artificial atmosphere. MARK, an absent father to his daughter ANGELINA, stumbles in. Some heads stare, some do not notice at all.
For a beat, MARK takes in the environment. A realization: ANGELINA is nowhere to be seen. In shame, he heads off to be seated alone.
The scene unfolding takes place within memory. MARK’s memory, or subtle alterations thereof, control the audience’s perception. We are in his world, given glimpses into what once was. Currently, MARK is imagining a dance with his daughter that he missed decades prior.
MARK
(to audience)
I come back to here when all seems lost. It all comes back to one thing. Her love for me, and the wanting that I miss. I can think in here. Breathe. I can breathe. There’s someone here to share it with, finally. You’re- you’re never here. How did you get in?
(beat) Does it really matter?
(MARK steps out of the stool while the other attendees stand frozen in frame. He is lively, sparking with enthusiasm.)
MARK
Please, stay here. I can grab you a seat, a stool like mine. I’d love to have you. It gets so lonely coming back to this place, though I always will. In here- let me show you. Let me show you what once was.
(MARK snaps his fingers, and the people resume their conversations and dancing. The FACILITATOR ENTERS and carefully makes her way over to
MARK. She hesitates.)
FACILITATOR What’s the last name?
MARK
I know who I’m here for. What’s your last name?
FACILITATOR
It’s a school event, sir. If you don’t have a child, you’ll have to see yourself out.
MARK
(to audience)
She’s a bitch outside of here too. A good-for-nothing cunt. To think that I would be here on my own? What kind of creep do you make me for? Of course I had a child.
(beat, contemplating)
Have. My daughter was- is- waiting for me, but I couldn’t get through. So, I’ll calm down, try to match her. Check all the boxes of a fit parent.
MARK
(to FACILITATOR, polite) Tracey.
(FACILITATOR is caught off-guard by this remark.)
MARK (sotto voce)
I’m late. I know it.
FACILITATOR
She’s been waiting half an hour.
(pointing off stage)
Angelina Tracey.
(beat of realization) You shouldn’t have come.
(MARK viscerally reacts towards this remark. He looks down, hurt, and slowly snaps his fingers. Every person in the room freezes again.)
MARK
(to audience)
This is why I come here. When all goes wrong. Poor Angie never understood; most of her school didn’t either. I was seen as inhumane. I was forced out of the school: not by tug or by shove, but by word. Rather, words. “She’s been waiting half an hour.” That moment in my life- it struck a string in me. I was rattled. In that world, I couldn’t pause. Couldn’t change what I wanted. Couldn’t change the conditions intertwined with every action and decision we make. I would continue to hurt her if I stayed. So I went back to what was comfortable.
(beat)
I left-
(MARK starts to move the people around him like mannequins. The FACILITATOR is moved to a chair, away from all the families. MARK puts himself between the various people. He interacts with them, pretending that they are real.)
MARK
Everyone calls it an addiction. We throw addiction on everything now, and I won’t call it an addiction. I refuse. I just need my alone time. That’s all I consider it. (beat) I create here. I create out there, too, but in here everything is smooth, rethought. Hand-picked. Perfect. Angie would be proud if she could see what I could make for here. There is only one caveat: It’s only mine. It exists only-
(MARK points towards his forehead.)
MARK
-In here. But there is so much to live for in this place: there’s fame, fortune, love, money, anything a greedy man could ever ask for. Every hope and desire exists in here.
Angie is here. Her mother is here. I mean- even you’re here! Angie is still my little sunshine and I love her mother so much more than I ever did before. Isn’t that wonderful? Let me show you how it works. Before, that was memory. Memory will always ring true, but here I can add a twist. Make things the way they ought to have been. Watch-
(MARK makes a motion as if he is pulling an invisible string. ANGELINA, MARK’s eight-year-old daughter, comes on stage stiffly. After he is finished, she stands frozen like every other person. He motions as if he is pushing a wall down, and all the father-daughter pairs move downstage.)
MARK
See! Our ancestors told us we should never change the past, but I’m not changing it, I’m only reimagining it. Here-
(At the snap of MARK’s fingers, people come back to life. The dancers continue dancing, and
ANGELINA comes running up to MARK.)
ANGELINA Daddy!
(ANGELINA embraces MARK on his knee, as she only comes up to about half his height.)
ANGELINA
I didn’t think you were-
MARK
(interrupting, eyeing the audience)
I would never miss this, not in any lifetime.
ANGELINA
(worriedly) Do you mean that...
MARK
Come on, Angie! Do you see the people out there? Do you see them?
ANGELINA
(shyly)
I’ve been sitting here. I watched them all night.
(MARK takes ANGELINA’s hands off him quickly and snaps. The attendees are still again.)
MARK
You make mistakes, everyone does. But in here, you can reverse them. Before it’s too late.
(MARK walks to the back of the room and grabs the clock off the wall. He physically moves the minute hand back 30 minutes. He places it back gently in the same general spot. He moves back to ANGELINA and snaps again.)
ANGELINA When did they start dancing?
MARK
Don’t know, sunshine. Let’s go join them.
(MARK grabs ANGELINA by her hand, and they step into the center of the crowd of people. Unpaused, these dancers keep dancing, and
MARK and ANGELINA join them.)
ANGELINA
I don’t like this... it’s too crowded.
MARK
Angie, baby. What do you mean?
ANGELINA
(nervously) Too many faces.
MARK
Do you want to go somewhere else?
ANGELINA
(shaking) If you want...
MARK Your wish is my command.
(MARK snaps once again, and the people freeze.)
MARK
You get used to the power, eventually. You get familiar with it. Especially once you’re decades into your dissociative career. You’re observing genius now; this-- is art You understand, don’t you? This world, this stage, is my greatest piece.
(MARK starts clearing the stage completely. He puts his hands in a fist together and parts them like he is dividing the red sea.
All people in the room leave. He takes all the furniture out of the room to where there is nothing but the clock.)
MARK
Shrooms have always been a close friend of mine. Or, while I was still in college. My friends would be haunted by the vortex on the carpet or a man in the closet, but after a lifetime’s use, I’ve gained control over it.
(beat)
I became the man in the closet. I became whatever I wanted to be. Imagine what I could’ve done, but do you realize what I did? I’m not outlandish. I did nothing cruel. Not anymore- I’m still young, basking in my prime. Angie is still my Angie, and nothing has to change. I’m not a 60-year-old deadbeat, no. I’m a young father, enjoying time with my girl. (still-like)
This is all I want.
MARK snaps, and all that is left is ANGELINA and him. He gets on a knee so that they are at eye level of each other.)
ANGELINA
(frightened) Where are we?
MARK
Do you recognize me, sunshine?
ANGELINA Get off of me! Where’s my mommy?
(MARK talks to the audience but forgets to pause time.)
MARK
(defeated)
Every time I try to dance with her, with every change, there is always an excuse.
I try every possible solution, I come early, I show up late, I bring flowers, or I don’t come at all. She never wants to be around me. What did I do?
ANGELINA Who are you talking to?
MARK
Sometimes I wish I could change people too. Make them different than how they actually are. She never wants to near me. There’s always something. In the other world, she’s 34, works for the Herald. She's always been the questioning type- Of course I was there for her, now she’s just bitchy and cruel. She can’t leave me; she doesn’t have the-
ANGELINA
(interrupting) You’re scaring me, daddy-
MARK
(depraved)
Angie, you’re not even real! I can’t scare you, I can’t hurt you, I can’t even love you anymore! You told me yourself! Destructive habits my ass. I did this for you! I take tabs for you, you’re the reason I’m here.
(ANGELINA, overwhelmed by the existential context of her existence, screams loudly.)
ANGELINA
(crying)
MOMMY! Where are you?! Daddy’s sick again- I’m scared.
(MARK quickly embraces ANGELINA despite her kicks and pleas for freedom. While he hugs her, he regretfully snaps, and she disappears.)
MARK
She always wanted me to stop coming here. I used to come and visit her mother, to try and fix things, and repeatedly fail. Cycles seem to repeat, don’t they? I took too many this time- I don’t know if I’ll ever leave. I don’t know if I ever will want to. But now there is no one here but you and me. I promise I won’t do the same thing to you, I really do-
(The curtains start to close, symbolizing the audience choosing to leave his mind, separating themselves away from MARK’s world.)
MARK
Please! NO- I can give you anything you want-
(CURTAIN CLOSES.)
MARK Please, don’t leave...
(End of SCENE.)
(End of PLAY.)
Kacie Koen is a playwright based out of Hot Springs, Arkansas. She is currently studying at Arkansas School for the Mathematics, Sciences, and the Arts. Many of her works focus on the underlying nuances beneath humanity’s extremes, especially within the female experience. She is a recent graduate of the Iowa Young Writers' Studio and Sewanee Young Writers' Conference (‘22), and you can read more of her work by contacting her at kaciekoen@gmail.com.
