by Drake Susuras

**This work uses // marks within the dialogue of this work, meant to indicate that the two lines of dialogue are overlapping.**

SETTING: A Beach on Fire Island, USA (Cherry Grove Community) Summer, 1965

CHARACTERS: (* PLAYWRIGHT & SHEL SHOULD BE PLAYED BY SAME ACTOR)

*PLAYWRIGHT: A 30-something gay bear with good facial hair.

*SHEL: A 30-something writer, cartoonist, and musician working for Playboy. Bald with an unkempt mustache and beard.

“STRAIGHT” TWINK: A 20-something twink who is coming to terms with his sexuality.

ROUGH TRADE: A 20-something twunk with tatted arms.

WEATHERED QUEEN: A 50 or 60-something gay man who’s seen Fire Island morph into what it now is.

(Lights up on PLAYWRIGHT as SHEL standing center stage holding a Playboy magazine.)

PLAYWRIGHT (as SHEL): Hello, everyone. I know it’s quite an unnerving thing to see. Me, up here like this. I’m Shel Silverstein. Well, I’m an actor that’s playing Shel Silverstein. But right now, I’m speaking to you as the playwright to give you some semblance of a prologue. This is a story about Shel and his time covering the goings-on of one of the most exotic vacation communities in the country: Fire Island. It was 1965 and I, or, Shel rather, was working with Playboy. He had a regular series published in the magazine called “Shel Silverstein Visits…”: and the up-and-coming, homosexual paradise of Fire Island was perfect for his next assignment. By this time in his Playboy stint, Shel had been working on these assignments for eight years. This one was different, though. Within the actual piece, it reads, “In the eight years he’s been reporting for Playboy, roving cartoonist Shel Silverstein…”(makes a gesture or takes a bow to indicate that it’s him.) … has worked his inky wit in the four corners of the globe.

(The rest of the quote is a voice over from PLAYWRIGHT (as SHEL). As the quote plays, the stage shifts and begins to resemble Fire Island. We see lounge chairs, towels, sand buckets, an ocean, and most importantly, gay men in speedos.)

PLAYWRIGHT (as SHEL)(VO)(cont.): “In the line-drawing of duty he has been gored in a Spanish bull ring, badly injured on safari in Uganda, knocked off the mound in spring training with the Chicago White Sox, and sunburned all over at a New Jersey nudist camp. All these high adventures pale by comparison, however, with Shel’s most recent (and most unusual) Playboy assignment: to relax, as best he could, for a week at a high-camp summer resort. In the last few years, homosexuality as a social phenomenon has emerged from the shadows, to the extent that today there are clearly recognized gay enclaves in most big cities. Near New York City, off the south coast of Long Island, there’s Fire Island’s incongruously yclept Cherry Grove community, a small section of the free-swinging island resort traditionally (and almost exclusively) the province of Gothamites who would rather switch than fight. Here, sans stares, homosexuals of every stripe gayly enjoy the amenities of a thriving vacation community. And here, through this summer fairyland, strolled our straight John, bewhiskered, bare-pated and bewildered, recording for posterity his walk on the Wilde side.”

(Blackout, then, lights back up on SHEL who is now on a beach on Fire Island. It’s relatively calm besides the sounds of waves in the distance. SHEL sketches before “STRAIGHT” TWINK lays out a beach towel near him and sits. Perhaps he applies sunscreen or puts on a pair of sunglasses. WEATHERED QUEEN sits in a chair somewhere upstage soaking in the sun and the scene. It is silent for a while.)

“STRAIGHT” TWINK: Yoo hoo! Whatcha sketching?

SHEL: Just the general scene … Putting together a background for this place, y’know?

“STRAIGHT” TWINK: Are you an artist?

SHEL: Yes, well, technically. I’m doing this report for Playboy and they sent me here to kind of document this place.

“STRAIGHT” TWINK: Very cool…Wait, you’re that guy aren’t you?

SHEL: That guy?

“STRAIGHT” TWINK: The writer, artist guy. Your book! The tree! The wishing tree? It’s something like that … The Giving Tree!?

SHEL: Yep. That’s the one.

(A beat as “STRAIGHT” TWINK stands and stretches. He’s almost posing for SHEL by the end of this.)

“STRAIGHT” TWINK (clearly flirting): Wow … So, you’re like this famous author guy, huh? Are you liking what you’ve seen on Fire Island so far? Is Playboy looking for a cover boy?

SHEL: First, I’m straight …

“STRAIGHT” TWINK: \ Shit.

SHEL: … And second, the cover is always a girl.

“STRAIGHT” TWINK: I’ll say … You might want to ID some of those cover models.

(an awkward silence)

“STRAIGHT” TWINK (cont.): So you’re straight … I’m trying to straighten out myself.

SHEL: What does that mean?

“STRAIGHT” TWINK: Well, I did the whole homosexual thing for a while. I even found a boyfriend that I was ready to settle down with.

SHEL: So, what happened?

(a beat)

“STRAIGHT” TWINK: Vietnam.

SHEL: I’m sorry.

“STRAIGHT” TWINK: What can you do? After that I decided that I wanted to be the way I was supposed to be but that never worked either. They all say this is a choice but don’t think I haven’t tried to change the way I am. I’ve gone to straight parties and I’ve dated women and I’ve gone to bed with plenty of them…It just never took … I’m seeing a psychiatrist about it and he always tells me not to get my hopes up but he thinks I might be able to … Oh my God.

SHEL: “Oh my God” what?

“STRAIGHT” TWINK: “Oh my God” that’s him over there! That’s my therapist!

(A man in a speedo and gold chain enters and strolls across the beach. SHEL chuckles.)

SHEL: Oh my God. That’s too good. Do you mind if I use this in my … (SHEL references his sketchbook.)

“STRAIGHT” TWINK: Oh, um … Sure. Why not? Just don’t use my name?

(“STRAIGHT” TWINK gathers his things and begins to pursue his psychiatrist before he exits.)

“STRAIGHT” TWINK (cont.): Wait up, doc!

(They exit. Waves crash in the distance as SHEL continues to sketch for a while before ROUGH TRADE enters and sits in the sand next to SHEL. He lights a cigarette and takes long, greedy drags.)

ROUGH TRADE: Word is you’re covering Fire Island for Playboy?

SHEL: Yeah. I mean, it’s just a little series.

ROUGH TRADE: Why would you want to cover a place like this?

SHEL: Well, the magazine wants me going to exotic places and a place really doesn’t get more exotic than this, does it?

ROUGH TRADE: Fair enough … They’re crazy y’know. The homos.

SHEL: Why do you say that?

(a beat)

ROUGH TRADE: Do you know what the gay boys call people like me?

SHEL: What do they call you?

ROUGH TRADE: “Rough Trade”.

SHEL: “Rough Trade”?

ROUGH TRADE: Yep. Guys like me are the ones they date. We are the ones who they’re fawning over and buying presents for. And we’re also the ones that give ‘em the most shit. We beat ‘em and steal their money / …

SHEL: Jesus.

ROUGH TRADE: And the only thing they do is come back for more. For me…So, when I tell you that these fags have a screw loose, I’m not lying to you. They’re sick … Sick in the head if nothing else. Just be careful about how you show the world this place.

SHEL: And you’re not … I mean, you aren’t …

ROUGH TRADE: A homosexual?

SHEL: Yeah …

ROUGH TRADE: Fuck no.

(a beat)

SHEL: Okay…So that means you’re \ st—

ROUGHT TRADE: I’m straight.

SHEL: Gotcha, gotcha.

(There’s another beat. It’s awkward this time.)

SHEL (cont.): Do you have a lot of sex with women or …

ROUGH TRADE: Not in a while.

SHEL: Okay. Cool, cool.

(another awkward beat)

SHEL (cont.): Well, would you mind if I included this interaction in my piece?

ROUGH TRADE: Sure.

SHEL: I’m sure the American public would be interested to hear about what “Rough Trade” is.

ROUGH TRADE: Just make sure you draw me with all my tattoos.

(ROUGH TRADE shows off his tattoos to SHEL before putting out his cigarette. He stands and begins to exit.)

SHEL: Nice meeting you.

ROUGH TRADE: You too … I’ll be at the Ice Palace later if you wanted to grab me a drink.

(ROUGH TRADE exits. SHEL just rubs his face and his eyes as if he cannot believe what has happened. WEATHERED QUEEN stands from his chair and begins to clean up his space on the beach.)

SHEL (calling out to ROUGH TRADE): I don’t think that’s how that works…

(a beat as SHEL looks around)

SHEL (cont.): Anyone else!?

WEATHERED QUEEN: If you’re looking for oddities, I saw a gay couple pushing a baby stroller full of groceries on the boardwalk not but a moment ago.

(a beat as waves crash in the distance)

WEATHERED QUEEN (cont.): You’re going to make this place look like a joke, y’know.

(another beat)

SHEL: Why would I do that?

WEATHERED QUEEN: Because you’re just like the rest of the world. You don’t give a shit about us. This is a zoo to you.

SHEL: With all due respect, sir, you don’t know me.

WEATHERED QUEEN: Oh please, honey. I clocked you the moment you sat in the sand … We’re an attraction for you. We’re just another stop on your fucking never ending Playboy tour.

SHEL: It’s just a series I’ve been reporting—

WEATHERED QUEEN: Reporting? Is that what Hugh Hefner calls it at all those mansion parties? That you’re reporting on something? Reporting on anything that actually matters?

(a beat)

WEATHERED QUEEN (cont.): I do think we matter, but, nobody is going to think that when they read your comics. There isn’t a straight guy on Earth that would open this new edition of Playboy and go, “Wow, we really should embrace homosexuality in this country.”

SHEL: You don’t know that.

WEATHERED QUEEN: It’s a porno magazine. Wake up! The only thing that’s being looked at in those magazines are the big, naked titties that are spread across every page. Well, every other page besides your incredible, thought-provoking piece on this place.

(another beat)

SHEL: Well, I don’t know what you want me to do. I’m just about finished with this and I have to be heading back anyway. I was never going to stay for long in Fire Island and everyone I talked to knew that.

WEATHERED QUEEN: Of course they did. They were too excited to be talked to like normal people to realize that you were profiling all of us like animals in a zoo under the guise of “working on your series.”

SHEL: So what do you want me to do?

WEATHERED QUEEN: I don’t give a shit what you do. Leave. Publish your story. You think anyone here will give a shit? No. We’ll be here regardless because we’re not accepted on the mainland, where you come from. You think this is the first time the gay man has been used as spectacle? Get real and try to get some actual perspective.

SHEL: Um, okay.

WEATHERED QUEEN: And just for the record, I really liked The Giving Tree. I got a copy for my grandson before moving out here.

SHEL: You have children?

WEATHERED QUEEN: Yep. Just one. I had a son with this woman that I was supposed to be in love with.

SHEL: But, you’re …

WEATHERED QUEEN: A faggot?

(a beat)

WEATHERED QUEEN (cont.): There was a time in my life where being perceived as “normal”—even though I fucking hated all of it—there was a time where that mattered more to me than being happy. I would’ve rather started a family with some woman than admit to myself what everyone already knew.

SHEL: I’m sorry.

WEATHERED QUEEN: Don’t be. It was a long time ago and I’ve made my peace with everything…I don’t know if my family has…But, that’s why I liked your book: It reminded me of her. My ex-wife was so selfless and I honestly think she knew I was a fairy before I did. She gave everything for me and our son and even more when I had to leave and … my ex-wife is the giving tree and I’m that greedy little boy just taking and taking and taking. And leaving … you remind me of that boy, too.

SHEL: Oh, so I’m also the greedy little boy now?

WEATHERED QUEEN: I mean the very nature of what you do is transactional. You’re flown out to places that invite you to take something from it whether that’s a story, or a perspective, or whatever it ends up being.
You take and then you leave.

SHEL: I think it’s a bit more nuanced than that.

WEATHERED QUEEN: Just change the word “tree” in your title to who you’re covering. “The Giving Ugandans.” “The Giving Chicago White Sox.” “The Giving New Jersey Nudists.” Now you’ve found yourself on Fire Island, on my beach for your newest feature: “The Giving Faggots.”

(a long pause as waves crash in the distance)

WEATHER QUEEN (cont.): I hope you got what you came for, Shel…Because I sure as hell didn’t and it cost me everything. And I’ve changed my outlook on this whole place and have become borderline misanthropic.

(a beat)

SHEL: Why’d your outlook change on this place? It seems great for people like … you.

WEATHERED QUEEN: You don’t get it yet do you? Fire Island? Cherry Grove? The Meat Rack? These were never places that all the queens decided to take over for parties and unadulterated sex…We came to this place because we had nowhere else to go. This isn’t a haven, it’s a prison where we can all hide out and do what we please without having to offend the general public!

(Another long pause, more waves as WEATHERED QUEEN stands and ties the drawstrings to their kimono. They grab the last of their things and begin to leave.)

SHEL: I’ve got to submit something!

WEATHERED QUEEN: Submit my ass!

(WEATHERED QUEEN exits. SHEL looks out at the audience and then back down at his notebook. He tears out a page and crumbles it up. He just sits and looks out as the waves continue to crash. A gay couple stroll across the stage behind SHEL, who almost immediately notices them. They walk together as one of them pushes a baby stroller. SHEL rolls his eyes. He can’t help himself. He quickly gathers his things and runs after the couple.)

SHEL: Hey! Guys! You wanna be in next month’s Playboy!?

(Blackout. Then, lights up on PLAYWRIGHT as SHEL standing center stage.)

PLAYWRIGHT (as SHEL): Heyyy … It’s the playwright again. Shel did go on to submit his series on Fire Island and it would be published in 1965 for the August issue of Playboy. It did go on to heavily caricature queer people and the Fire Island community as a whole. However, I like imagining that there was this big discourse between Shel and some razor-sharp queen in a kimono … I like to think that Shel cared about how he was depicting them, us. I like to think that we’ve always fought like this in the interest of community rather than as a means for survival or existence. I say all of this because the history of how we’ve been alienated is cyclical. We take a step forward and we’re pushed a few steps back. Some of those folks on Fire Island never did make it to the mainland. They never got to marry. To be themselves. To flourish. And what makes me loathe and celebrate Shel Silverstein at the same time is …

(PLAYWRIGHT begins to carefully unpeel his baldcap and takes it off.)

PLAYWRIGHT: These comics and their little captions that Shel captured are caricatures, don’t get me wrong. Gay guys being “weird” was pretty much always the punchline throughout the piece. However, there’s also a level of authenticity to his work which really captures this “slice of life” view of his time on Fire Island. It’s fascinating to see how this community was functioning at that time, 60 years ago, and to me, it’s also a celebration of how far we’ve come. Shel wasn’t perfect, and this project was transactional, but somehow in his own, weird, Shel Silverstein way, he figured out how to find a little bit of humanity in a place like this. And even moreso, he found a way to slip that humanity in the back of a Playboy magazine … The truth is that nobody has ever been able to depict Fire Island in an actual meaningful way. This was a physical, geographical example of queer community yet it’s always boiled down to promiscuity and party culture which remains miles away from the American mainland. This place is foundational to our history and all anyone can focus on is where the best cruising spot is or that weird concert mishap and the documentary craze that followed.

(PLAYWRIGHT stammers and gives up on the thought. He sits onstage.)

PLAYWRIGHT (cont.): And maybe that’s also valid?

(a beat)

PLAYWRIGHT (cont.): Maybe Shel was the one that got it right. Who knows. It’s just hard to know when everything feels so serious these days. Like life and death … Every time we have to represent ourselves, the queers, there’s just this weight to it.

(PLAYWRIGHT just sits with his thoughts until he’s compelled to stand again.)

PLAYWRIGHT (cont.): I think that Fire Island kind of ushered in these queer spaces that we know today and they’re also just as important. As long as we have these places like the Fire Islands or the Eagle Bars or the Henrietta Hudsons or the Cubby Holes … As long as spaces like these exist, as long as we keep coming to these places, we’ll be able to hold onto our community. And sometimes, community is messy, just how it was when Shel depicted it. Some of us hate ourselves. Some of us start discourse. Some of us are just trying to figure out how to make it through the day. And some of
us just want to go on vacation and suck a few dicks on Fire Island!

(a beat)

PLAYWRIGHT (cont.): We should celebrate the fact that we’re still here and that Fire Island still exists and now it’s just a queer vacation spot.

(another beat)

PLAYWRIGHT (cont.) (smiling): The best queer vacation spot.

(another beat)

PLAYWRIGHT (cont.): This is just a good reminder to keep fighting. To keep speaking up. To keep defending one another. To keep challenging how we’re depicted. And, ultimately, it reminds us of the power of just continuing to love each other.

(lights fade to blackout)

END OF PLAY

Drake J. Susuras is a professional theatre artist based in Brooklyn, NY. His written work has been viewed throughout the United States, and he is the recipient of the Henry Award for Best Production of a Play (Downstate, Curious Theatre), the Virginia Lowell Grabill Award for Playwriting, and most recently, the First Annual IGNITE New Play Festival. Drake holds a BFA in Theatre Performance from the University of Evansville.