Margaret Atwood - Hag-Seed

“It’s too long,” says SnakeEye. “Plus it’s boring. Even Miranda finds it boring. She almost goes to sleep.”

He’s right, thinks Felix. That scene’s been a challenge for every actor who’s ever played Prospero: how to get through the Act I, Scene 2, narration of Prospero’s doleful history while at the same time making it compelling. The thing is too static. “But the audience needs to know the information,” he says. “Otherwise they can’t follow the plot. They need to hear about the wrongs he’s suffered, and his reason for wanting revenge.”

“Yeah, we get that,” says SnakeEye. “So we thought, Why not do it as a flashback?”

“It already is a flashback,” says Felix.

“Yeah, but you know how you’re always saying, Show, don’t tell, move it, get some energy?”

“Yes,” says Felix. “And?”

“And, so, we can do it as a flashback number, only with Antonio telling it. We’ve been rehearsing.”

Ha. He’s cutting me out, thinks Felix. Elbowing me aside. Making a bigger part for himself. How appropriate for Antonio. But isn’t this what he’s asked them to do? Rethink, reframe? “Great, let’s hear it,” he says.

“The boys are doing backup for me,” says SnakeEye. “Team Antonio. We call this ‘Evil Bro Antonio.’ ”

“Okay,” says Felix. “Showtime.”

“Remember to count,” says Anne-Marie as they arrange themselves, SnakeEye in front, his backups in a line behind: Phil the Pill, VaMoose, and, more improbably, Krampus the Mennonite. If Anne-Marie has wrung anything like dancing out of Krampus it will be a miracle.

“I’m all ears and eyes,” says Felix.

“Beginning on three!” says Anne-Marie. She counts, One-two-three, then claps once, and away they go.

SnakeEye is aiming for the essence of Antonio: ruthless; full of himself. He puffs himself up, he rubs his hands together, he squints with his slanty left eye, he sneers with his lopsided mouth. If he had a moustache he’d be twirling it. He prances fit to kill. His team sets the rhythm: stamping, clapping, finger-snapping. A cappella breath-work.

They’re good, they’re much better than Felix expected. Is it all due to Anne-Marie, or do they get this stuff from music videos? Maybe both. Stamp stamp clap, stamp stamp clap, clap clap stamp stamp snap , go the backups. SnakeEye launches in:

On their final “Hah!” they all look at Felix. He knows that look. Love me, don’t reject me, say I’m in!

“What d’you think?” SnakeEye asks. He’s gone all out on the prancing, he’s breathing hard.

“It has something,” says Felix, who in fact would like to throttle him. Scene-stealer! But he tamps down on that emotion: it’s their show, he scolds himself.

“Better than something! Come on, it’s terrific!” says Anne-Marie, who’s been watching from the back of the room. “Tells us what happened, sums it up! It’s a keeper!”

“Snazzy foot-stamping,” says Felix.

“That’s what I’m here for,” says Anne-Marie, grinning. “Miss Helpful. Log-carrying, dance numbers, whatever.”

“Thank you,” says Felix.

“Jealous, Mr. Duke?” Anne-Marie whispers impishly. She sees into him, too far. “You want to be in the backup, right?”

“Don’t be a brat,” he whispers back.

“Then, we think,” says SnakeEye, pushing on through, “so, after that, we cut to the boat, the leaky boat they’re in, and we can show that on the video, while he’s saying, I mean you — he’s saying that part where Miranda tells him what a trouble she must have been, a three-year-old kid in that boat, and he says she was like an angel that preserved him? A cherubin. That part.”

“I know that part,” says Felix. His heart twists within him.

“So some of the guys have kids,” he says. “They’ve got photos of them, you’re allowed to have those kinds of photos. Of your family, suppose you’ve got one. So we video the boat — we can use, like, a toy boat, bang it around, fix it so it looks falling apart; and it’s dark, wind’s blowing, it’s night, and then in the sky we show the pictures of their kids. That’s how the guys feel about it, with their kids: it’s a cherubin type of thing that helps them get through the rough parts.”

How can Felix say no? “Let’s give it a try,” he says.

“8Handz says he can cut photos like that in easy,” says SnakeEye. “Into a video. He says he can make them flash, each one, just for a second. Like stars.”

“That sounds nice,” says Felix. His throat is closing up on him. Why is a cornball idea like this wrecking him so completely? Sentimental sludge! Is he going to cry?

Careful, he tells himself. Hold it together. Prospero’s always in control. More or less.

SnakeEye has more to say: he’s shifting from foot to foot. Spit it out, Felix wants to snap. Let’s have the second barrel. Finish me off.

“We thought maybe you might like to add something of your own, Mr. Duke.” His voice is shy. “If you’ve got a special photo like that. You could add it in to the sky thing too. Sort of like a guest cameo. The guys say you’d be welcome.”