Overheard Voices III, recorded by Westward Ho

            (My teacher says that overheard voices can be more interesting than what we
              make up ourselves.  I doubt it.)

WOMAN

What do you think of my brother?

MAN

He didn’t say hardly a word to me.  He just, he just looked at me over the table.

WOMAN

Yes, he can do that.

MAN

I tried to say something that might be of interest.  I tried sports.

WOMAN

Oh, Yicheng.  He knows nothing about sports.

MAN

I understood that.
            (Looks furtively)
Should we . . . ?

            (The MAN begins speaking in another language.  The WOMAN responds in the
            same language, then switches back to English.)

WOMAN

He’s not here.  Besides, he can understand what we’re saying.

            (The MOTHER enters.)

MOTHER

Shhhh!  Don’t you know he is always listening, always lurking?

Overheard Voices II, recorded by Westward Ho

            (My teacher says that overheard voices can be more interesting than what we
            make up ourselves.  I doubt it.)

MAN

How did the exercises go?

ANOTHER MAN

Not well.  I don’t think well ---

MAN

Why?

THE OTHER MAN

I just don’t think I did it well.

MAN

As long as you’re a listener.  You have to be a listener.  ’Cause you have to really listen, to how people really talk---you know?  Because, like we talked about, it’s not what’s said in plays that matters.  It’s what’s left to the imagination.

WOMAN

I liked mine.

MAN

Great, Molly.  Can you tell us what you heard?

WOMAN

            (Gets her paper)
I did one at the Red Lobster.  And this father was talking to his little girl.  Should I read it?

MAN

Yeah.

WOMAN

Okay.  “Do the lobsters have to die?”  “I don’t know, sweetie; they don’t all die.”  “But will this one die?”  “I guess.  If someone eats it.”

MAN

Is there more?

Overheard Voices I, recorded by Westward Ho

            (My teacher says that overheard voices can be more interesting than what we
            make up ourselves.  I doubt it.)

WOMAN

And the music filled me with the spirit.  That kind of music always fills me with the spirit.

OTHER WOMAN

I know ---

WOMAN

I just had to play.  I went . . . I went to the organ.  And I played it.

HUSBAND OF THE OTHER WOMAN

Did you?

WOMAN

I really felt the Lord.  It was good worship.

HUSBAND OF THE OTHER WOMAN

Amen.

"The Waitress Speaks of Christianity" by Westward Ho

            (The WAITRESS is sorting sweetener packets.  They fall.  She puts her hands to
            her head.)

WAITRESS

          I cannot think. 
            No; not sick.
            I must tell you what happened in the car to me today.  I was driving for work; and a cat ran before the car.  It was a yellow and gold cat.  It came suddenly into the street.  Maybe chasing a rabbit or another cat.  But it ran fast and sudden. 
            I didn’t hit it, but another car did.  It was a blue car, with a tag on the back that was a Christian thing---something read, “If heaven happens, this car will be empty because we will be in heaven.”  I don’t know if they go to heaven, but the cat, I hope, does.  They kept to driving, if you can believe it.  They kept to driving. 
            I could not look.  But then I did; and the cat was not dead.  It was dragging its legs behind and making the loud meow.  I said to myself, “Archaeopteryx, it is not a Christian thing---”
            Yes, you know my name.  Why is it new every time? 
            I said, “Archaeopteryx, it is not a Christian thing to leave the cat not dead and having pain.”  And so I decided that I would run it with my car tire.  And I did, or tried.  I closed my eyes and prayed a prayer and went straight over.  At least, I pray I did.  I did not look.  But I pray the cat died with the tire.
            It is not a Christian thing to leave a creature like that.  I hope the cat is in heaven.
            (She looks to her sorting)
            Hey, these pinks things had said they caused the cancer.  Do they not cause the cancer no more?
            (Looking up)
            No; my stories are not all sad. 
            Sometimes sad.  I don’t know.

            THE END

"Milky Way" by Westward Ho

            (A backdrop of painted butcher’s paper, streaky black with glitter stars.  In front
            of it, a lovely stream flows over a black cloud of crumbly papier-mâché.  The
            stream is gorgeous---an icy twist of shiny silver and pearly white.  A little ELF
            puppet jumps on the scene.  It is a mimeographed image, colored in crayon and
            cut poorly from paper, affixed to the end of rakeless rake.  The ELF skates down
            the frozen stream.)

ELF

SKATING DOWN THE MILKY WAY,
STRETCHED FROM FINITE LAND TO SPACIOUS SEA.
SKATING DOWN THE MILKY WAY.
DRINK THE DRINK AND FLY AND SKATE WITH ME.

            (The noise of blades on ice.)

            THE END