Stuck Elevator

by Byron Au Yong & Aaron Jafferis

Stuck Elevator cover art
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about

Stuck Elevator is a comic-rap-scrap-metal-musical prompted by the experience of a Chinese delivery man who was trapped in a Bronx elevator for 81 hours after delivering a routine order of shrimp fried rice.

credits

released 02 September 2010
Music by Byron Au Yong
Libretto by Aaron Jafferis

Contact...
Beth Morrison Projects
T (646) 682-7181
E beth@bethmorrisonprojects.org

Stuck Elevator logo by Wing Fong

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about

Byron Au Yong composes songs of dislocation, music for a changing world.

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Track Name: Holla
Thank you,
thank you,
thank you, Moo Shu Pork.

Thank you,
thank you,
thank you, Shrimp Fried Rice.

Thank you,
thank you,
thank you, Orange Beef.

Dolla dolla.
Holla.

明天
Míng tiān, (Tomorrow,)
我 付 凊
wǒ fù jìng (I close my debt)
欠 表哥 的 借債 (借债).
qiàn biǎo gē de jiè zhài. (to one cousin.)
但 是 還 (还) 欠 四 大 堆.
Dàn shì hái qiàn sì dà duī. (Still many more I owe.)
再 做 兩 (两) 個 (个) 鐘頭 (钟头).
Zài zuò liǎng gè zhōng tóu. (Four more hours tonight.)
我 可以 賺 (赚) 兩 (两) 百 塊 (块).
Wǒ kě yǐ zhuàn liǎng bǎi kuài. (I can make two hundred yet.)
可是 還 (还) 欠 六 萬 (万) 塊 (块).
Kě shì hái qiàn liù wàn kuài. (A drop in the ocean of sixty thousand.)
騶 (驺) 電梯 (电梯). 騶 (驺)!
Zōu diàn tī. Zōu! (Elevator, go!)

Thank you,
thank you,
thank you, General Ts—

(The elevator plunges from the 35th floor.)

-o!

(The elevator stops. Plunges again. GUANG tries to maintain control.)

嚇 死 我 了!
Xià sǐ wǒ le! (Scare me to death!)

(The elevator gets stuck between the 3rd and 4th floor.)
Track Name: Doors Don't Open
門(门)
Mén (Doors)
沒有 (没有)
méi yǒu (don’t)
開(开).
kāi. (open.)

開(开)
Kāi (Open)
門(门).
mén. (doors.)

門(门)
Mén
沒有(没有)
méi yǒu
開(开).
kāi.
門(门)
Mén
沒有(没有)
méi yǒu
開(开).
kāi.

Méi yǒu kāi mén.
Kāi mén méi yǒu.

Mén
méi yǒu
kāi.
Mén
méi yǒu—
kāi mén—

(GUANG moves away from the buttons. He tries the doors and signals to the security camera.)

雜(杂) 念 呈 現(现) 腦(脑) 海.
Zá niàn chéng xiàn nǎo hǎi... (Many thoughts go through my head...)
尤 如 金錢(钱) 流 水.
Yoú rú jīn qián liú shuǐ. (like money, like flowing water)
抓 不住.
Zhuā bú zù. (I cannot grab.)
口 中 叫 不 出 聲(声).
Kǒu zhōng jiào bú chū shēng. (I open my mouth, but no sound comes out.)
急 死 人.
Jí sǐ rén. (I’m worried.)
Jí sǐ—
open-
kāi—
mén—
door—
don’t—
Wo zi dao le! (I know!)

(GUANG presses the intercom button.)

Doors don’t open.
Don’t open doors.
Open doors don’t open.

(The elevator hums. GUANG releases the button and moves away. He motions to the surveillance camera, presses buttons, taps the intercom. Nothing.)
Track Name: The Counting Song
One two three four duck sauce packets.
One two three four soy sauce packets.
One two three fortune cookies.
How lucky.
Why is my luck always sucky?

My boss is waiting.
By now he’s cursing.

One two three four five six seven eight menus.
Great reading.
One bike lock key –

(GUANG looks at the control panel.)

won’t fit there.
Two photos. And one knife.
GUANG (cont’d)
Three phone cards. But no phone.
Why the hell did I sell my cell phone?

I needed money.
My debt’s not funny.

(GUANG feels his hands.)

I’m wet. Duck sauce?
No, sweat. No sweat.

(GUANG looks at his watch.)

(To elevator) By now you’ve cost me fifteen dollars!

忠 佚
Think of my brother-in-law Zhōng Yì. What would he do?
A soldier.
Break through the door, or grate – I’ll break
my fingers.
Cut through a wire. Cut. Cut.
(To elevator) I’ll stick you with my knife.
Squeeze soy sauce on the elevator gears.
They’ll loosen.
Squirt duck sauce out the doors, then rats will come...
and then what?
Come on, Guang, be realistic.

One two three fortune cookies.
Delicious.

(GUANG waves the fortune cookies in front of the security camera.)

Delicious.
Fat hungry guard.
Come get it!
Chinese takeout!
Come get it!
Chinese takeout!
Your fortune is to come and get me!
Track Name: At Least It's Quiet
At least it’s quiet.
At least I’m by myself.

First time in New York
I haven’t had to share a room.
Always other workers snoring,
always other workers beating off.

At least it’s quiet.
Unlike my boss’ wife.

First night in two years
I haven’t had to hear her yell.
Always bragging ‘bout her grandson.
Says soon as he comes
I’m gonna lose my job.

I hear my breathing.
Now I hear my heart.
Do you hear my breathing or my heart?

Elevator, why don’t you move?
Elevator, are you dead?
Elevator, how long have you worked here?
Has it been thirty-five years?

(Nothing.)

Or seventy years?
Grandma elevator,
how ‘bout if I sing you a song
that Ming and I would sing
when I still lived in China
and our son Wang Yue was six.

He’d throw a tantrum
and make us take the stairs.
Something in our elevator made him scared.
We thought up a secret song.
To feel brave, he’d sing along:

(GUANG hears WANG YUE.)

WANG YUE
我 要 上
Wǒ yāo shàng (I want on)
上 電梯.
shàng diàn tī. (on elevator.)
上 上
Shàng shàng (Up up)
下 下
xia xia (down down)
上 電梯.
shàng diàn tī. (on elevator.)
我 喜歡 坐 電梯.
Wǒ xǐ huan zuò diàn tī. (I like to ride the elevator.)

WANG YUE & GUANG
我 喜歡 坐 電梯.
Wǒ xǐ huan zuò diàn tī.
非 常 喜 歡 坐 電梯.
Fēi cháng xǐ huan zuò diàn tī. (I love to ride the elevator.)

GUANG
Wang Yue will grow
big and strong

like your ba, Guang.

I’ll go away
but I’ll be back soon.
Watch the moon.

WANG YUE
我 要 上
Wǒ yāo shàng
上 電梯
shàng diàn tī.
上 上
Shàng shàng
下 下
xia xia
上 電梯
shàng diàn tī.
我 喜歡 坐 電梯
Wǒ xǐ huan zuò diàn tī.

GUANG
There, the moon...

Wang Yue?

(GUANG sees MING.)

Ming?

(GUANG breathes deep.)

At least it’s quiet.
Like when he went to bed.
And I would whisper poems to my wife.

Míng, I want to listen to the place between your breasts.
Rest my head on the moon of your belly.
Track Name: Orange Beef
Ming.
Ming.

Orange.
Orange.
Orange.
Beef.
Oooh.

(KUANG’s dance becomes cow-like.)

Orange.
Orange.
Orange.
Beef.
Mooo.

Big tip. Delivery.
Pay my family.
$60,000 U.S. dollars,
Now.

(KUANG’s dance becomes Orange Beef-like.)

Orange.
Orange.
Orange.
Me.
Track Name: It Could Be Worse
It could be worse.
I could be an elevator.
Then I would be stuck in an elevator
for my entire life.

It could be worse.
At least I can pee out that crack
so the elevator doesn’t smell like pee.
Least I haven’t had to take a -
Wait. Don’t think about it.

It could be worse.
I could be getting mugged again –
in the elevator by the kid who put a gun up to my head
and took my takeout money.
Least he didn’t take me out.

It could be worse.
I could be my older sister,
whose husband was an ass:
Zhōng Yì, the soldier
who had a son with her
before he went to work in Hong Kong
and stopped calling.

It could be worse.
I could be my nephew.
Barely twenty-two.
Skinny and not quite a man.
So eager when we started ‘cross the sea
inside the belly of the ship.
Container ship.
Containing us,
and food and water and no light.
Containing us,
and food, no water and no light.
Containing us,
no food, no water and no light.
Fishing for breath when there was none
and there was nothing left but death
inside my nephew in that ship inside a thirst that took his neck
and took his forehead, took his cheeks, took his hands
and took his lips,

which split to whisper “You brought me here.”
I hear the knife behind his words.
His final curse:
“You will hunger.
You will thirst.”
It could be worse.
It could be worse.
Track Name: Shame
Shh.

Wang Yue can never know that I was here.
He will know honor and success
and dollars and the best.
And when I die he’ll make an altar
and put my portrait in a frame.

Sh...

The guys at work will know that I was here.
They’ll change my name to Elevator Guang
and say that I am stuck because my English is so wrong
I don’t know how to call for help
and I’m to blame.

(Furious, growling) Shhasishushiiiaa—

(GUANG looks at the security camera.)

The guard cannot know that I am here.
He’ll ask me for my papers and see my name,
then send me back to China
and Míng will see me wear the same old clothes.
She’ll cry because she knows,
and each tear, a mirror
repeating my new name,
which will be
sh...ame.

Shh.
Shame.

Shh.
Shame.
Track Name: Are You Listening?
Elevator, are you listening
to the soft sound of a man missing himself?
If a person disappears
and no one cares
enough to look for him,
does that mean he wasn’t there from the beginning?
That explains a lot
of people who forgot
to give me tips.

If all I am and all I have
add up to nothing, zero,
all that means is I’ve become a superhero.

Takeout-Man!
Can answer calls
for help
and walk through walls
of steel,
and talk a secret language only I can understand,
and ride my bike into the sky and disappear.

Ming, are you listening?
What I just said doesn’t mean that I am dead.
I just wanna borrow death
to rest in her,
and then wake up refreshed
with my ear upon your breast to hear your breathing,
and your beating heart
reminding every part
of me that I am...

Takeout-Man,
who can answer calls
for help
and walk through walls
of steel,
and talk a secret language only we can understand,
and ride my bike into your sky and disappear.

Wang Yue, are you listening?
Cover your ears - I’m getting fresh with your mother.
No. That’s wrong.
Sing me a silly song
like you used to,
and I’ll heal.
So long without each other,
we both begin to wonder
if I’m real.

God, this is stupid.
I’m glad no one’s listening.
My bitching would have killed them by now.
They’d be saying “Who cares?
Shut up and take the stairs next time.”

A country kills its prophets –
the wise ones –
by not listening

to Takeout-Man
who can answer calls
for help
and walk through walls
of steel,
and talk a secret language only I can understand,
and ride my bike into the sky and disappear,
and fly –
while you wait with baited breath for Elevator Kuang to die.
Track Name: Third Hunger
Two hungers call me home.
Wang Yue knew how to make
my nephew laugh.
He’d holler like a monkey
while my nephew tried to kiss
some quiet girl.
That stays with me although Wang Yue
grows and grows.

Two hungers call me home.
When we worked at the factory
making shoes,
Ming sat with me at night,
and sewed the holes
ripped in me through the day.
She’s that needle in my chest
that sews and sews.

Still I chose to go.
Better risk these new hungers
than live with the hunger
we already know in China.
In New York, there’s no
hunger. And no question,
except “To stay or to go?”
To stay or to go?

Another hunger comes.
The past will always be there,
but I hunger for a present
with Wang Yue.
Who knows who he is now?
The things he wants are changing
day by day.
I will never know the hungers
that he has and what he wonders -
if he wishes that his dad
was someone different -
I will hunger, even starve to bring him closer,
I will starve, forever starve
while I bring food, forever starve
while bringing food,
forever starve.
Track Name: How to Get Out
ZHŌNG YÌ
Guang!

GUANG
Huh?

ZHŌNG YÌ
You’ve been in here way too long, so
“How To Get Out Of An Elevator” is the name of this song.

GUANG
So how do I get out?

ZHŌNG YÌ
First—

GUANG
Wait. Who are you?

ZHŌNG YÌ
I’m General Tso.

GUANG
So?

ZHŌNG YÌ
No, not just Tso. I’m a General too.

GUANG
People’s Army?

ZHŌNG YÌ
Homeland Security. And I have a special jam I wanna do. It’s called “How To Get Out Of An American Jam When The Blueberry Is You.”
We’ll report you, then detain you, take you to court, and then arraign you,
and if you can’t afford a lawyer, it’s much shorter, we just deport you – hey!

GUANG
I can’t just disappear.
There’s too much
riding on my life.
Who will help my son and wife
pay the loans that I still owe,
and owe,
and owe?

ZHŌNG YÌ
Wow, your life sucks. I was just kidding, though.
General Tso is just an alias. In Hong Kong, they think
folks like me and you are aliens just like they do here,
but my new identity means homeland security
for me: even though I was a foreign-born man,
now I can be secure in my new homeland. Hey!

GUANG
Zhōng Yì? It’s / you?

ZHŌNG YÌ
Used to be. I got rich in Hong Kong.
Life can be a bitch but that’s not the name of this song.

GUANG
How could you disappear
on your son?
In his dying breath,
he gave me all that he had left,
GUANG (cont’d)
so I breathed in his life,
his dream,
his debt.

ZHŌNG YÌ
Yes, and who’s fault was that? Not mine.
If you had left him back in Fuzhou, he would’ve been fine.
You try to save people, that’s when you hurt them.

GUANG
(Considering) But it’s selfish to desert them.

ZHŌNG YÌ
Guang. You’ll be helpless as long as you send each cent to someone else.
It’s not selfish to want to make something of yourself.
I have a new family now. Three kids. Two cars.
Life is beautiful once we decide to make it ours.
America means freedom. Think you’re trapped by debt? Wrong.
Forget

GUANG
Ming and Wang Yue?

ZHŌNG YÌ
Yes. What’s taken you so long?
Liberate yourself from your family! This is where you belong!
And “How To Get Out Of Obligation” is the name of this song!

ZHŌNG YÌ & GUANG
“How To Get Out Of Obligation” is the name of this song!

GUANG
If I could let / them go,

ZHŌNG YÌ
Let them go.

GUANG
who knows who I / could be,

ZHŌNG YÌ
Let them go.

GUANG
what I’d do - if I were / free.

ZHŌNG YÌ
Let them go.

GUANG
How can I...

ZHŌNG YÌ
Let them...

GUANG
Go.
Track Name: Big House
Big house.
Big dining room.
Big kitchen where
we’ll cook our meals.
Big meals
in the house I’ll build -
your moon-white mansion
on a silver hill
so you can look down on all of Fuzhou.
They will be so proud of me in Fuzhou
when I bring my family from Fuzhou
to me.

Big sign.
Big parking lot.
Big line waiting outside
of my restaurant.
Big Guang’s
Long Island Chinese Buffet.
She’ll cry to see me
in my midnight business suit
when I meet her at the airport.
When I meet them at the airport.
When I meet my family at the airport
with my large bag of gold.
My large bag of gold,
my large bag of gold
from takeout.
Track Name: Hunger
Hunger. I hunger. I am hunger.

I am want.
I am wanting to eat the buttons of the elevator,
to eat the mushrooms of the elevator.
I am wanting salt.
I am eating and becoming hunger.

I bring food to the people of the building.
I am filling the hunger of the people.
I am food in the stomach of the building.
I am food and I am hunger in the stomach of this
building hunger in the stomach of this
building anger in the stomach danger
in the stomach of this building
in this country I am nothing but
hunger swallowing hunger
building anger in the stomach
I am coming to the building to feed your hunger
be your hunger in the stomach of this building
swallow me. Swallow me!

I am hunger. I am hunger in the stomach
of America, I am feeding myself to you.
Swallow me. Swallow me!
Hunger. I give you hunger.
I give you myself, stuck in this elevator,
delivering food, delivering hunger,
delivering myself to you,
as long as I am stuck and hunger
in the stomach of this building,
America, you will be stuck and forever hunger,
forever ever hunger,
never enough no matter how many of me you eat.
Track Name: Moons Yawn and Go
The earth is falling
into sleep.
Night spreads
and casts its spell.
Old black bikes
are breathing slow.
Eight million mouths
begin to make
their dark
and hungry calls.
All the hands
that ever worked
with me
surround the city.
Milky time
flies on and on and on and on
and I am on my bicycle.
People and plates of steaming food
arrange like constellations.
I bless them
with my bicycle.
Connect the distant edges of a life.
Caress my wife and son.
Bless my relatives in China.
Bless the friends who I have here.
Bless the people I deliver to.
Bless the people who
are watching me
inside this elevator.
It’s almost dawn.
I load my bicycle with food.
Moons yawn and go.