Decades after a scandal has ruined her career and banished her to the anonymity of an institution, the once-famous Audrey Munson receives unexpected and unwanted visitors. But instead of sending them away, she tells her own truth of the infamous scandals surrounding her life in what may be her last chance to reclaim her good name.

ACTORS: 2 Females, Causcasian (1 elderly, 1 30s/40s); 1 Male, Caucasian (30s/40s)

RUN TIME: Approx. 75 minutes

Setting:    June 1991. A small, spare, but not unpleasant, room in an institution. Institutional furniture and fixtures occupy space, but there are adornments one wouldn’t expect in such a place. Some of these are rather old and faded in appearance. Most notable are the hundreds of newspaper and magazine clippings taped or tacked to the walls. These can be physical newspaper clippings, or suggested by the lighting schematic, as if the room were an outward representation of her psyche. It is dusk, and the light in the room has waned somewhat.

At rise:     AUDREY sits in a chair facing audience, asleep, completely still, and statuesque. She keeps herself groomed and dressed nicely, modestly. She wears little or no make-up. There is a pair of glasses on the floor near the front row of audience chairs.

(AUDREY rouses and notices the audience. She appears to recognize who is there and with pleasure, but then her look sours.)

AUDREY:  I tell them no visitors, but do they listen? Now you’ve made it past the front desk, come to see me take my clothes off, I suppose. Just like the rest of them. Well, you’re all perverts, the lot of you!

(She waits expectantly. Pause. Breaks character, more jovially.)

Come on come on! What’s the matter with you? You know what to say. You always say—when I say that, you always say to me...

(AUDREY squints at the audience. Then somewhat uncomfortable.)

I seem to have lost something. Can’t see a thing.

(AUDREY turns on the small lamp beside her, illuminating the newspaper clippings that fill the room. She looks and feels around her, searching.)

Does anyone see my glasses? They were right here earlier today.

(MALE VISITOR and FEMALE VISITOR, who are sitting in the front row of the audience will both go to pick them up, but only one of them gets to take them to her. When he or she does bring her glasses, she can tell something is not right. She puts them on quickly and sees who is there with her. AUDREY, embarrassed, is caught off guard, even a bit shy as she self-consciously covers the opening of her dress.)

Oh. You’re not...I thought you were my...My niece and her family visit me, and I thought you were they.

(Pause. She takes off her glasses.)

Well, if you’re here to see Audrey Munson, she’s not here. Haven’t seen her lately, sorry to say. I’ll be sure to tell her you came...when I see her.

(Pause while she waits for them to leave. When they turn to go, she then thinks better of it.)

But that doesn’t mean you have to leave, you know. You all look nice enough. 

(She motions for them to take a seat on stage with her. They do, FEMALE VISITOR picking up AUDREY’s nighty which is on the chair.)

But if I were Audrey, I’d say, “I’m sorry. I don’t take callers.” I’d say, “This concludes our visit.” And, “Have a nice day.” Audrey would treat her guests with respect, you understand, even if they weren’t welcome. Stay a while and wait with me for her to show up. All right? And when she arrives, I can say some nice things, and perhaps she’ll entertain. Until then I can even tell you some things you never knew. Oh, sure. Give me a chance. I know Audrey quite well, living here together the way we do. 

For example, in about an hour Maureen will be here to get Audrey ready for bed. 

(FEMALE VISITOR becomes MAUREEN, AUDREY’s caretaker.)

AUDREY (CONT’D):  She’ll take that nighty there, and hold it out to her. And she will say… 

MAUREEN AND AUDREY  (holding the nighty out to AUDREY):   Do that one sculpture! 

MAUREEN:  Do…um, um…Do Civic Fame!

AUDREY:  …waiting for Audrey to disrobe.

MAUREEN:  Come on! It’ll be fun!

AUDREY:  And she’s young and simple and it’s all an innocent joke to her. Except Civic Fame wasn’t one of the nude ones.

(MAUREEN laughs, snorting. Lights dim on MAUREEN.)

AUDREY (CONT’D):  I suppose I could tell Maureen about my— her time in the studio. I could tell her that Audrey spent hours a day standing still for some eccentric artist to create his masterpiece. That she was the true artist, that she was the inspiration for the work. That, despite her lack of covering, the artist never touched her, that he and she only ever met in the ether between them, where art could breathe life into the lifeless. 

I could tell Maureen how she was a good person, a decent person, unwittingly drawn into a scandal that shattered her world, sent her plummeting from doyen to sideshow over night. Maureen would like that.  And, of course, a man was involved. So. I guess that’s it, isn’t it? All she needs to know. Audrey was famous, then infamous, then forgotten.

Or...I could tell Maureen that Audrey was Pygmalion’s creation, borne of stone and hastened into womanhood at such a tender age. Both loved and judged by the ones who created her and the ones who would possess her.

But would she understand? Would you? Are you any different than they were back then?

(AUDREY points to a news clipping. Lights up on CRITIC.)

AUDREY (CONT’D):  They called her a 

AUDREY and CRITIC:  temptress 

AUDREY:  and 

AUDREY and CRITIC:  whore. 

AUDREY:  Some of the most stunning sculptures of their time. 

CRITIC:  It’s not so much that the bronze nudes are immoral, but you can’t disregard the fact that someone posed naked for them! 

AUDREY:  So they took aim. Bang!

CRITIC:  It’s shameful

AUDREY:  Bang!

CRITIC:  and unfit for a child’s eyes. 

AUDREY:  With a word she was rendered a danger to all of civilization. 

(Lights dim on CRITIC.)

AUDREY:  Maureen says civilization couldn’t possibly exist without clothing. 

(Lights up on MAUREEN.)

MAUREEN:  Imagine, 

AUDREY:  she says, 

MAUREEN:  greeting your guests at the door wearing nothing at all! 

AUDREY:  I’ve done that, I say. 

(MAUREEN laughs, then stops when she realizes AUDREY is serious.)

AUDREY (CONT’D):  It’s been a good day when I manage to say something that shuts the young dear up.

(Lights dim on MAUREEN. Beat.)

AUDREY (CONT’D):  We cover ourselves because we’re told nudity is a bad thing. And we add more because more is better we presume. We lay on the makeup, the perfume and jewelry, girdles and corsets that sculpt our bodies into voluptuous hourglass figures. And covered up we are, suddenly and simultaneously, the irreproachable image of righteous modesty and the suggestion of astounding sexuality! Everywhere you look, all you see is sex, and all for words like cleavage and hemline, sex-filled words that wouldn’t exist but for clothing. Well, you’re all hypocrites, and our appreciation of art is spoiled because of you!

I...I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to attack you like that. I would never forgive myself if I scared you off, and your having just got here. And what would Audrey say when she found out I shooed you away? She might say, “Brava! I told you I don’t see strange visitors.” But then again, she might not. She might say instead, “You silly woman! I haven’t had guests in how many months, and now you’ve gone and ruined everything!”

So you will accept my apology, won’t you? You see, I’ve done some modeling myself, so I can take it rather personally at times. I’ve even posed in the altogether.

(beat)

You know what that means? It’s what we called it back then, and a more civilized term it is than nude, or naked. Oh, I love the word! I love that it means everything and nothing at the same time! 

(She waits for the audience to get it.)

Don’t you see? All together. Altogether. And I love being in the altogether!

(Lights up on MAUREEN, who knocks on AUDREY’s door.)

MAUREEN:  Are you decent, Miss? 

(She smiles mischievously, conspiring with the audience.)

AUDREY:  Always.

(Lights dim on MAUREEN.)

AUDREY (CONT’D):  I do believe I have the poor thing terrified of me. 

    (waving her hand dismissively)

But they don’t use terms like that anymore. I know they were different times, you might say more repressed, oppressive. But to those of us living in a grand metropolis at the beginning of the century? Quite different. It was the beginning of everything. It was the time of imagination and possibility. In a few short years, the horse and buggy disappeared and the streets were filled with automobiles. The skies were empty and then they weren’t and the aeroplanes swarmed by the thousands to fight the war. You may be used to getting everything you want in the blink of an eye, but we weren’t. Things were moving so fast, and everyone was getting lost in the busy-ness of it all. 

(Lights up on CHARLES HEBER, who spots AUDREY and is stunned by her appearance. Lights change to indicate a change in time. AUDREY is a young 15-year-old.)

AUDREY (CONT’D):  And when a man approaches you on the street and asks you to—

CHARLES HEBER:  Pose for me.

AUDREY:  Pose…?

CHARLES HEBER:  In my studio. It’s right near by.

(He hands her his card.)

AUDREY:  But…Is that done?

CHARLES HEBER  (smiling, disarming):  It is. All the time.

AUDREY:  I don’t think—

CHARLES HEBER:  I’ve never seen a figure quite like yours. It’s…breath-taking.

(She turns to walk away)

CHARLES HEBER (CONT’D):  You’re just not keeping up with the times, you know. 

(She stops, then continues to walk away)

CHARLES HEBER (CONT’D):  It pays.

(Lights up on AUDREY’S MOTHER)

AUDREY’S MOTHER:  We need the money.

AUDREY:  Father would kill me.

AUDREY’S MOTHER:  Well your father’s not here, is he?

(She stops, and turns back to him. Beat.)

AUDREY  (to audience):  So you go along with him. But then he wants to see you in the altogether. And you say, 

    (to CHARLES HEBER)

I’m not that kind of girl! 

AUDREY’S MOTHER:  Of course, you are. 

AUDREY:  Mother—

AUDREY’S MOTHER:  You wanted to be an entertainer, so entertain! 

AUDREY:  He’s a man.

AUDREY’S MOTHER:  He’s a professional. You can see it, how he just oozes artistic integrity. And besides, it’s New York. Who’ll notice? 

(During the following speech, AUDREY uses her own room’s changing screen.)

AUDREY:  And in the man’s studio you stand behind a changing screen with your crumpled dress clutched to your breast, and his impatience insists that you reveal yourself, which you do: first with a tentative toe, apprehensive fingers curling around the edge of the screen, then a calf, a thigh, and the head—bowed in shame, yes, but also a tremendous anticipation—a head that precedes the breast, that stirs the artist to action. 

CHARLES HEBER:  There! Don’t budge!

(CHARLES HEBER runs at her. AUDREY tenses as he approaches. He reaches for her, takes her chin gently, and raises her face into the light.)

AUDREY:  And as you stand there, your body shaking with fatigue and nervous excitement, you come to the amazing realization that you’ve found honorable work amidst the madness of people clawing for their share of the fortune. You’ve found a way to be an artist, not just a freak looking to grab the attention of a distracted public from the echo of machines whirring inside their heads.

[CONTINUED: PLEASE CONTACT ME IF YOU'D LIKE TO READ MORE. THANK YOU.]