Rita and her Husband's Killer

The Lovers Space

Jun 8

Written By Tomaso Carnetto

…by her parents to a crude and brutal man who, after 18 years of marital heil, is murdered by one of his many enemies.
Relics that are needed as objects of interaction on stage: Leggings, Bells, pillows, feathers.
1st dialogue, derived from the infinitive sequence of the left half of the stage: flow, smash, ring, follow, deprived
Rita, wearing skin-coloured leggings, a t-shirt and garden boots
I asked myself, was there a need for so much blood to flow? His blood, not mine. But if it had not been his blood, it would have been mine. So I answer my question with an undeniable yes!
Her husband’s killer, as soon as he enters the stage I have to ring the bells
When someone tells me: “Watch out, I'm about to smash every stupid face in front of me,” my alarm bells ring. So I beat him to it. Unfortunately, he didn't survive.
Rita
Isn't it a bit like the parable of the vineyard, where the kingdom of heaven is like a landowner: that I am the vineyard, dried up under the relentlessly burning sun of a loveless but violent partnership, and the landowner in one and the same person! Whom I must follow in order to survive? Otherwise, deprived of all fresh water and fresh air, I'll end up as one of the silvery fish that die miserably on the beach.
Her husband’s killer (the bells ring)
Oh yes, you're right, the parable says: “The kingdom of heaven is like a landowner who went out early in the morning to hire laborers for his vineyard.
And when he had agreed with the laborers on a small daily wage, a silver denar, he sent them into his vineyard.”
But he will not pay my wages for working all day, so we got into a violent argument and in the end he was dead. I'm so sorry for that!
Rita
Oh no, you don't have to! In fact, he was neither the landowner nor the vineyard, but should have been one of the laborers.
2nd dialogue, derived from the infinitive sequence of the right half of the stage: equal, advertise, agree, sent, arrogate, stand, enter
Her husband’s killer (before he begins to speak, the bells ring)
I killed him like this! (He bangs the pillow violently against the stage floor until the pillow tears and the feathers fly around).
Rita
I shouldn't say this too loudly, but your bangs are equal to my heartbeat, as if you're trying to advertise for me to love you with every beat you make.
Her husband's killer, standing there, clutching the torn pillow to his chest (and the bells ring again)
Oh, my dear Rita, nothing can come between us, when it gets dark I tow your heart away - you just have to agree that I am allowed to be the laborer in your vineyard and as soon as you do, I will have sent all my troops to dig up the ground!
Rita
“All your troops”, repeats while shaking her head: “All your troops”, sounds a bit arrogant to me. Leave your troops where they stand. Only you, alone, naked, stripped of all arrogance, presumption, and superiority, will be allowed to enter the vineyard.

…the dreams of her husband's killer, a strange guy from an earlier story and Andrea, the 1st apostle, that's me, the narrator of today's saint's story.
Rita, crouching, arms outstretched, palms open
Of course, there's nothing more ridiculous than trying to become the person you once were in your dreams. One day, let's say at the end of the 7th or 8th year of your marriage, you remember yourself as that beautiful, attractive person you once tried to find as real in your mirror. Taken from one of the models you found in one of the Hollywood movies or fashion magazines and now in the millions and millions of Instagram posts. Oh, so lovely! Oh, so cute!
Her Husband’s Killer (walking up and down the edge of the stage)
A laborer in the vineyard, that's what I always wanted to be: A real man among real men, a soldier of the king among all soldiers of the king, a fighter among fighters, a hunter among hunters, a gambler among gamblers, a masterpiece of man among all masterpieces of all men as such.
My lovely Rita, you say, that sounds arrogant to you. But isn't that exactly the man you want me to be! A laborer in your vineyard, like one of the King's soldiers, fighting for the Kingdom of Heaven, a hunter of love, playing with the imponderables of life, a masterpiece made just for your pleasure!
The Spanish revolutionary (I have no idea what he is doing on stage right now! This is one of the scenes he was booked for!)
I know very well what it means to fight for love! The love for my country, for my brothers and sisters, is the fight against the authorities who claim to know who you have to be and how you have to behave; faithful, obedient, the most industrious of all the workers in the vineyard of the Lord. But this is not who I am, rather I am getting old, I am becoming frail, I am dragging myself along some days, but I am still madly in love with you after all these years!
I am Andrea, as you already know, one of the Apostles.
You must not think that I am not affected, perhaps much more than others. Being forced to work in the vineyard, with its uncertain conditions, weighs on me every day. Of course, I also want to become a fearless fighter, a man as hard as Krupp steel, as tough as leather, as agile as a greyhound! Yes, you are right, when I see myself as I really am, I have to laugh. At least our daydreams are good for that; start laughing from the depth of your heart!
So, if not a fearless fighter, then at any rate someone who will be remembered; for his goodness, his pure heart, and what he did for the widows and orphans, the animals and children!
(burst of laughter)