Hold Me Closer: The Tiny Cooper Story (9 page)

Tiny is very, very excited about Will. As a result, he babbles uncontrollably to Phil and Djane.
“DRUNK ON LOVE”
is their take on this situation—and a resolution to the unbearable sexual tension between them that their friends have been enduring for
weeks
. Tiny should basically be talking the whole time, with his voice fading out as Phil and Djane sing. When he talks, he should sound very, very drunk. In parts where he doesn’t want to talk, he can also do a happy This Fella’s in Love dance. He should seem completely intoxicated by this new relationship—soon to be the most serious one he’s ever had.

[“DRUNK ON LOVE”]

TINY
(
spoken drunkenly
):

So I’m sorry I didn’t go back to Frenchy’s to meet you, but I figured you’d guess I just took a cab, which I did, and anyway, Will and I had walked all the way down to the Bean and, like, Wrayson, I know I’ve said this before but I
really like him
. I mean, you have to
really
like someone to go all the way to the Bean with him and listen to him talk about his major major problems and also I
sang
for him . . .

DJANE
(
sung to
PHIL
):

Oh my God, who would’ve thunk?

PHIL
(
sung back
):

Our dear friend Tiny is drunk . . . on love.

DJANE:

Get the Breathalyzer

and cue the synthesizer!

Our dear friend Tiny is drunk . . . on love.

TINY:

And I get texts from him like every forty-two seconds and he’s a brilliant texter, which is nice because it’s just a little pleasant leg vibration, just a reminder-in-the-thigh that he’s—see, there’s one. (
checks phone
)
Aww
.

PHIL:

It looks like our pal is out of his funk.

DJANE:

Tiny Cooper, drunk . . . on love.

PHIL:

His spirits are higher

than those of a frequent flier.

Tiny Cooper, drunk . . . on love

TINY:

It’s been eight days since I met him, and I haven’t technically liked someone who liked me back for eight days in my entire life, unless you count my relationship with Bethany Keene in third grade, which obviously you can’t, since she’s a girl.

PHIL:

Good ol’ Bacchus

needs in on this fracas.

DJANE:

Aphrodite’s throwing a fest

and Tiny’s the honored guest.

PHIL:

Look at him frolic.

Look at him skip.

It makes me wonder

if
we
should sip.

The music abruptly stops. Tiny stops. Djane stares. Did Phil really just do what she thinks he just did?

DJANE
(
spoken
):

Did you really just do what I think you just did?

PHIL

(
continuing the song, moving closer to Djane
):

I’m not promising you

it’ll be a slam dunk,

but, Djane, I’m thinking

we should get a little drunk.

Uncork the bottle and

drown the monk.

We won’t know if it’s sink or swim

’til we’ve swum or sunk.

DJANE
(
moving even closer
):

You know what I have to say to that?

PHIL

(
even closer—they both kinda know what’s coming
):

What?

An explosive kiss between them. It’s impossible to tell who kissed who first.

They take it offstage.

TINY
(
to audience
):

Now,
that’s
what I’m talking about. And that’s what Will and I had. Only, we had other things, too. Like fear. And vulnerability. And uncertainty. I tried to shine my way through all these things . . . shine us both through all these things. But sometimes it’s not that easy.

The bed gets wheeled in again, with different sheets on it. We’re in Will’s bedroom now. It’s very much like the inside of his head—part childish, part intense. Although the sheets weren’t actually black, they might as well have been.

Will and Tiny have been dating for a couple of weeks now. Tiny is SO into it, and he feels that Will is, too, even if Will isn’t as open in expressing his enthusiasm. But that’s okay. Tiny has learned to understand that his emotional volume tends to be a little louder than other boys’, and he wants Will to be his complement, not his twin. It’s okay that they’re different, in no small part because Tiny thinks his buoyancy can lift whatever’s weighing Will down. They’ll balance out.

Will enters the bedroom and joins Tiny.

TINY
(
to audience
):

This is the first time I ever got to see Will’s room. You can tell a lot about a guy from his room. In Will’s case, I was searching for signs of life.

Tiny approaches a goldfish bowl next to the bed. You do NOT have to have goldfish in it. This is acting. And no goldfish should have to swim under a spotlight.

TINY:

Goldfish! What are their names?

WILL:

Samson and Delilah.

TINY:

Really?

WILL:

She’s a total slut.

Tiny leans over for a closer look at the fish food and finds a bottle of pills instead.

TINY:

You feed them prescription drugs?

WILL:

Oh, no. Those are mine. (
pause
) It’s a depression thing.

TINY
(
lighthearted, not really getting it
):

Oh, I feel depressed, too. Sometimes. (
pause
) Which one’s Samson and which one’s Delilah?

WILL:

Honestly? I forget.

TINY
(
as if he’s just seen it for the first time
):

Look! A bed!

With an almost-shy grin, Tiny sits gingerly on its edge.

TINY:

Comfy!

Will takes one look at Tiny sitting there and laughs happily. It’s a wonderful sound when he laughs happily, especially because it surprises Will whenever it happens.

TINY:

What?

WILL:

There’s a boy! In my bed!

Will joins Tiny in the bed. They share a tender kiss, then Will lies in Tiny’s arms. It’s very sweet. And I wish we could end the scene here. With all my heart, I wish we could end the scene here, and Will could let this be exactly what it seems to be. But Will can’t accept it. He pulls out of Tiny’s embrace, sits up.

TINY:

What? What is it?

WILL:

Look, Tiny—I’m trying to be on my best behavior, but you have to understand—I’m always standing on the edge of something bad. And sometimes someone like you can make me look the other way, so that I don’t know how close I am to falling over. But I always end up turning my head. Always. I always walk off that edge. And it’s what I deal with every day, and it’s not going away anytime soon. It’s really nice to have you here, but do you want to know something? Do you really want me to be honest?

Tiny nods. Of course he wants Will to be honest. When you’re falling in love, you always think honesty is the right answer.

WILL:

It feels like a vacation. I don’t think you know what that’s like. Which is good—you don’t want to. You have no idea how much I hate this. I hate the fact that I’m ruining the night right now, ruining everything—

TINY:

You’re not.

WILL:

I am.

TINY:

Says who?

WILL:

Says me?

TINY:

Don’t I get any say?

WILL:

No. I just ruin it. You don’t get any say.

Tiny touches Will’s ear lightly, tries to lighten the moment.

TINY:

You know, you get all sexy when you turn destructive.

His fingers run down Will’s neck, under his collar.

TINY:

I know I can’t change anything that’s already happened to you. But you know what I can do?

WILL:

What?

TINY:

Something else. That’s what I can give you.
Something else
.

The next song is a ballad, almost a lullaby, delivered from Tiny to Will as Tiny cuddles him close. Tiny wants so badly for Will to see how much he cares. As happens with love, he cares carefully, and he cares carelessly, and he cares a lot about how much his care is received. He sees Will is hurting. He
knows
Will is hurting. And he wants to change that. And he believes that the first step to change is letting the other person know that you’re there, and that you want to help as much as he needs help.

I wanted to be his escape plan. I thought I could write it myself.

[“SOMETHING ELSE”]

TINY:

If you’re tired of feeling,

tired of fighting,

I understand.

If you’re tired of twisting,

exhausted by existing,

I understand.

Sometimes it takes all your strength

to get up in the morning,

only to face a day

that seems aimless and boring.

But don’t despair

because I’ll be there

to lead you away.

I’ll be your weekend,

your fire escape,

the dream you never leave—

I’ll be your day off,

your stopped clock,

your glorious reprieve.

Let me be your something else.

Let me put your past up on a shelf.

Let me unfold you from your problems

and let you be yourself.

If you’re tired of the mess,

tired of the stress,

I understand.

If you’re tired of every thought,

sick of feeling caught,

I understand.

Sometimes it takes all of your strength

to make it through the night,

only to wake up

and find little that feels right.

But don’t despair

because I’ll be there

to lead you away.

I’ll be your weekend,

your fire escape,

the dream you never leave—

I’ll be your day off,

your stopped clock,

your glorious reprieve.

Let me be your something else.

Let me put your past up on a shelf.

Let me unfold you from your problems

and let you be yourself.

Just come away with me.

Come away with me.

Put all the rest of it aside

and come away with me.

We all miss our heavens

and we all fight our hells.

So please let me be there

to be your something else.

The end of the song lulls them together. It’s almost possible to believe they’ve made it to something else. It’s almost possible to believe they’ve made it to where they need to be.

This is hard to write. Please know this is hard to write.

Lights out.

A few more weeks pass. If you ask Tiny, he’ll tell you he’s never been happier. But every time he says this, every time he
proclaims
it, there’s a little piece that feels hollow.

There’s a lot he’s trying to balance. His relationship with Will. The creation of this musical. Phil Wrayson’s ongoing drama/comedy with Djane.

There isn’t much time to think about love. And of course that means it’s all he thinks about.

TINY:

Miracles and curses. Curses and miracles. It’s the same magic, played different ways.

So it is with love. Or our attempt at love. The exhilaration and the disappointment. The quiet and the noise. The passionate disagreement and the passionate agreement. The same magic, played different ways.

There’s a reason that, when we remember relationships, most of the time the most intense memories are from the beginning or the end. Because that’s when we’re most aware of the magic. Positive, negative. Rise, fall.

There were times while I was writing this musical over the past few weeks that I thought it might have a happy ending. I thought I was writing about me at first, then I realized I was writing about love. I thought I could give both of us a happy ending.

But it’s not so simple.

A few days ago, I said something to one of Will’s former friends that maybe I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry about it, but I wasn’t sorry about it quick enough. Again, I’m not going to go into it, because that’s his story and not mine.

It’s not a happy ending, but I’m not convinced it’s a sad one either.

Some things end. Some things stay.

We’re going to start the scene with Will madder at me than he’s ever been.

Will storms onto the stage, angry and distressed. He and Tiny plunge right into the fight. Like most couples’ fights, it starts being about one thing, but soon becomes about a lot more.

WILL:

You really shouldn’t have done that.

TINY:

Why?

WILL:

Why?
Because it’s my life, my problem. And you can’t fix it. When you try, it only makes it worse.

TINY:

Stop it.

WILL:

Stop what?

TINY:

Stop talking to me like I’m stupid. I’m not stupid.

WILL:

I know you’re not stupid. But you sure as hell did a stupid thing.

TINY:

This isn’t how the day was supposed to go.

WILL:

Well, you know what? A lot of the time, you have no control over how your day goes.

TINY:

Stop. Please. I want this to be a nice day. Let’s go somewhere you like to go. Where should we go? Take me somewhere that matters to you.

WILL:

Like what?

TINY:

Like . . . I don’t know. For me, if I need to feel better, I go alone to Super Target. I don’t know why, but seeing all of those things makes me happy. It’s probably the design. I don’t even have to buy anything. Just seeing all the people together, seeing all the things I
could
buy—all the colors, aisle after aisle—sometimes I need that. For Djane, it’s this indie record store we’ll go to so she can look at old vinyl while I look at all the boy band CDs in the two-dollar bin and try to figure out which one I think is the cutest. Or for Phil there’s this park in our town, where all the Little League teams play. And he loves the dugout, because when no one else is around, it’s really quiet there. When there’s not a game on, you can sit there and all that exists are the things that happened in the past. I think everyone has a place like that. You must have a place like that.

WILL
(
shaking his head
):

Nothing.

TINY:

C’mon. There has to be someplace.

WILL:

There isn’t, okay? Just my house. My room. That’s it.

TINY:

Fine—then where’s the nearest swing set?

The swing set from the opening of Act II is returned to the stage.

TINY:

Here’s one!

Tiny sits on one of the swings.

TINY:

Join me. (
Will does
.) Now, isn’t this better?

WILL:

Better than what?

Tiny laughs and shakes his head.

WILL:

What? Why are you shaking your head?

TINY:

It’s nothing.

WILL:

Tell me.

TINY:

It’s just funny.

WILL:

What’s
funny?

TINY:

You. And me.

WILL:

I’m glad you find it funny.

TINY:

I wish you’d find it funnier. (
pause
) You know what’s a great metaphor for love?

WILL:

I have a feeling you’re about to tell me.

Tiny turns away and makes an attempt to swing high. The swing set groans so much that he stops and twists back Will’s way.

TINY:

Sleeping Beauty.

WILL:

Sleeping Beauty?

TINY:

Yes, because you have to plow through this incredible thicket of thorns in order to get to Beauty, and even then, when you get there, you still have to wake her up.

WILL:

So I’m a thicket?

TINY:

And the beauty that isn’t full awake yet.

WILL:

It figures you’d think that way.

TINY:

Why?

WILL:

Well, your life is a musical. Literally.

TINY:

Do you hear me singing now?

There’s a silence as they swing.

WILL:

Tiny . . .

TINY:

Will . . .

WILL:

Don’t you get it? I don’t need anyone.

TINY:

That only means you need me more.

WILL:

You’re not in love with me. You’re in love with my need.

TINY:

But I like you. I really, really like you.

WILL:

I’m really sorry.

Tiny swings for a moment.

TINY:

Don’t be. I fell for you. I know what happens at the end of falling—landing.

WILL:

I just get so pissed off at myself. I’m the worst thing in the world for you. I’m your pinless hand grenade.

TINY:

I like my pinless hand grenade.

WILL:

Well, I don’t like being your pinless hand grenade. Or anybody’s.

TINY:

I just want you to be happy. If that’s with me or with someone else or with nobody. I just want you to be happy. I just want you to be okay with life. With life as it is. And me, too. It is so hard to accept that life is falling. Falling and landing and falling and landing. I agree it’s not ideal. I agree.

But there is the word, this word Phil Wrayson taught me once:
weltschmerz
. It’s the depression you feel when the world as it is does not line up with the world as you think it should be. I live in a big goddamned
weltschmerz
ocean, you know? And so do you. And so does everyone. Because everyone thinks it should be possible just to keep falling and falling forever, to feel the rush of the air on your face as you fall, that air pulling your face into a brilliant goddamned smile. And that
should
be possible. You
should
be able to fall forever.

You’re still a pinless grenade over the world not being perfect. And I’m still—every time this happens to me, every time I land, it still hurts like it’s never happened before.

Tiny’s swinging higher now, kicking his legs hard, the swing set groaning. It looks like he’s going to bring the whole contraption down, but he just keeps pumping his legs and pulling against the chain with his arms and talking.

TINY:

Because we can’t stop the
weltschmerz.
We can’t stop imagining the world as it might be. Which is awesome! It is my favorite thing about us!

And if you’re gonna have that, you’re gonna have falling. They don’t call it
rising
in love. That’s why I love us!

Because we know what will happen when we fall!

Tiny leaps from the swing . . . and this time lands on his feet. As soon as he does, the finale begins.

[“FINALE”]

TINY:

It’s all about falling—

you land and get up so you can fall again.

It’s all about falling—

I won’t be afraid to hit that wall again.

I like love.

There, I’ve said it:

I really like love.

Not as a half

but as a whole

looking for another whole.

I want to be like my mom and dad—

I want to feel the love they’ve had.

I want to share this love with all my friends—

I want to fall alongside them ’til our story ends.

I was born big-boned and happily gay

but I’ve learned so much more along the way.

MOM AND DAD:

In the cold

In the wind

We’ll be there for you.

Your agony

Your ecstasy

We will feel it.

MOM:

The strongest kind of love

is unconditional love.

The moment you were born,

I knew unconditional love.

DAD:

In so many ways you amaze me.

MOM:

In so many ways you amaze me.

LYNDA AND THE GHOST OF OSCAR WILDE:

Look forward to the moment

when it falls apart.

Look forward to the moment

when you must rearrange your heart.

It might feel like the end of the world—

but it’s the beginning of your art.

PHIL AND DJANE:

We hope you can you abide

us showing some Tiny Cooper pride.

Hold me closer, Tiny Cooper!

Hold me closer, Tiny Cooper!

Even as you fall,

hold me closer.

CHORUS OF EX-BOYFRIENDS:

It’s all about falling—

you land and get up so you can fall again.

It’s all about falling—

I won’t be afraid to hit that wall again.

TINY
(
spoken
):

Maybe tonight you’re scared of falling, and maybe there’s somebody here or somewhere else you’re thinking about, worrying over, fretting over, trying to figure out if you want to fall, or how and when you’re gonna land, and I gotta tell you, friends, to stop thinking about the landing, because it’s all about falling.

Maybe there is something you’re afraid to say, or someone you’re afraid to love, or somewhere you’re afraid to go. It’s gonna hurt. It’s gonna hurt because it matters.

CHORUS:

Don’t be afraid—

just fall.

Don’t be afraid—

just fall.

TINY:

But I just fell and landed and I am still standing here to tell you that you’ve gotta learn to love the falling, because it’s all about falling.

CHORUS:

Don’t be afraid—

just fall.

Don’t be afraid—

just fall.

TINY:

Just fall for once. Let yourself fall!

Everybody should be onstage now. The whole ensemble. Singing together. Ex-boyfriends and friends. Members of the family I was born into and members of the family I’ve created. This one big chorus that sings me through my life, adding the harmony that makes me awake and alive and connected. In this moment I realize: I don’t need that one single other voice to make my life a song. There are so many voices that are already a part of it. We diminuendo in our doubt, but then we crescendo into understanding, together.

ENSEMBLE:

Hold me closer,

hold me closer.

Hold me closer,

hold me closer!

I’m going to fall,

so hold me closer!

I’m going to fall,

so hold me closer!

Every time I fall,

hold me closer.

Every time I fall,

hold me closer!

Suddenly, with a grand wave of his arms, Tiny stops the music. He moves to the front of the stage and the rest of the stage goes dark. It’s just him in a spotlight, looking out into the audience. He just stands there for a moment, taking it all in. And then he closes the show by saying:

TINY
:

My name is Tiny Cooper. And this is my story.

With this, our show comes to an end. It’s an open ending, and it’s a happy ending. Because most happy endings are open endings—wide-open endings. On opening night of this musical, a lot of things happened to make me realize that life is a work in progress, and that we’re actors and playwrights and composers, if we approach the show the right way. This is my first show, and I’m sure it’s rough—most first shows are. But it won’t be my last.

I have to believe we have enough songs in our hearts for endless musicals, about an endless number of things. And it’s fun, every now and then, to let them out into the world.

Thank you for hearing me.

FIN