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CHAPTER 2

The Dark, and many frogs. There are many different types of frogs. There is one frog with a low deep occasional bellow. There are more frogs with a businesslike mid-range twang, and there are many many little peepers with a high yammering chirrup. It’s a racket.

Two flashlight beams joggle forward, stop.

Emily and PT have paused to listen to the frogs.

EMILY: And people leave the city to get away from the noise.

PT: Where’s the moon?

EMILY: What do you think the decibel level is? Bet it’s worse than Times Square.

PT: No I mean it, where’s the moon?

EMILY: It isn’t up yet.

PT: Or is it new.

EMILY: Um, it might be new. I’m trying to think . . .

PT: Because if it’s new, it’s not coming up tonight at all, or, it’s already up, but it’s invisible.

EMILY: I’m trying to remember the last time I saw it.

PT: Don’t you think that’s creepy?

EMILY: It’s coming back.

PT: No no, that’s my point: It isn’t gone. It’s right above us, right now, but it’s invisible. Don’t you think that’s creepy? This big old dark invisible moon hanging over our heads.

Beat.

EMILY: No. I don’t. Hang on though okay, this is driving me a bit nuts:

Lets loose with a prolonged operatic vocal extravagance.

Stunned silence from the frogs.

An exploratory chirrup.

Silence.

Then, tentatively, they start up again, cautiously at first, but soon regain their original vigor.

A bit of a (Human) silence.

PT (Sincerely): That’s amazing. You creeped the frogs out.

EMILY: I didn’t creep them out. I . . . impressed them.

She switches off her light.

PT: The frogs were like: what is that.

EMILY: Hey,

She jostles his arm.

Turn yours off okay.

PT: Why?

EMILY: I want to see what the dark is like.

He does so.

PT: You’re the Frog Mama.

She sings just a bit, low.

You’re going to give them a heart attack, you keep after them like that.

She continues singing low, a little louder; the frogs continue, undisturbed.

(Pursuing the joke a little longer than is amusing) Because how often are they visited by the Froggie Goddess, like it’s got to be stressful.

She pursues the song a little longer, ends it mid-verse, or, at any rate, before the song is done.

Silence. Frogs.

Seriously though, I don’t think I can hack this dark. I’m a city boy. I’m used to being lit up from above at all times.

Bit of a beat.

EMILY: There are the stars.

PT: They’re pretty. They’re not really doing it for me.

EMILY: There are comets.

A flash of light across the stage, and a whoosh; fades out. Another flash of light and whoosh; fades out.

PT (Not convinced): Mmmmn.

EMILY: There are fireflies.

A swarm of fireflies enters, and performs a beautiful luminous dance. The laws of nature are repealed.

Emily starts to sing a low firefly song to accompany them.

The Heart of the Summer

ALL WOMEN:

is shot through with Stars

EMILY (Continues alone):

Dazzles of Forever

Abducted in Jars

THE AIR RESPONDS (The Air is masculine in character . . .):

More wonderful

than fire

is the air!

without which

nothing glowing

would be there!

The fireflies exit, the frogs fade out.