The dressing room of a small nightclub, live music in the background. Dana, a singer in a black dress and red scarf, sits calmly on a tattered couch, an untouched glass of red wine on a table nearby. Darryl, the owner, paces back and forth in front of her.

DARRYL: You sure you can’t start now? This guy’s killing me—I got customers walking out!

DANA: Darryl, we’ve been through this. The Sabbath ends at 9:10. That’s when all the light is gone from the sky.

DARRYL: What are you a vampire?

Dana gives him a look, says nothing. Darryl listens to the music.

It’s not like Jimmy’s a hack. He’s got a great voice, great range, he can play. But there’s something inside him that’s unhealthy. A knot. Turns people off. Skeeves them. Then there are the few who lean forward. They take the empty seats and move closer. It speaks to something in them.

DANA: I know Jimmy a little. He’s had a tough life.

DARRYL: Aww, he had a wotten childhood? Well, we’re all adults now, you know what I’m sayin? You gotta hide that shit on stage. Or use it. Look at Billie Holiday.

Dana doesn’t bother to rebut this.

You’re just sitting there? You can’t even do vocal exercises on the Sabbath?

Silence.

Dana, that’s four…five customers on their way out. Come on, stop the bleeding!

Silence.

DARRYL: All right, all right. I respect…spirituality. You want to be alone?

DANA: Yeah, Darryl, I want to be alone!

DARRYL: (listening) That’s a beautiful note–almost. But there’s a clusterfuck inside him, you can hear it. I’m not booking him again. 9:10?

DANA: 9:10.

DARRYL: Few more months, you’re good for the 8 o’clock, right?

DANA: Yup.

DARRYL: I need an almanac with this chick.

He leaves. Dana sits there breathing calmly. After a moment she reaches into her bag and takes out a braided red Havdalah candle. She looks at a barely visible hole in the wall, takes a handkerchief from her bag, and crosses to it.

DANA: Stop it, Darryl! I told you. That’s creepy. Don’t make me go to the cops!

DARRYL: (from off ) Just keeping an eye on the talent. People have OD’d in here.

DANA: Uh-huh.

She plugs the hole with the handkerchief, places the Havdalah candle on the table and lights it. She averts her eyes from the flame, holds up a hand to its light, and catches the reflection in her fingernails.

How was Shabbat?

A young woman in a white wedding dress appears and hugs her.

SHECHINA: It was fun.

DANA: Details, details.

SHECHINA: Synagogue in Queens—they were singing and dancing on the lawn. So I joined them. Then all of a sudden the rabbi kneels down—he’s elderly—and says he wants to ‘kiss my grass- scented feet’.

DANA: Whoa!

SHECHINA: A little different. But I went with it. He lost his son a few months ago.

Dana clucks sympathy.

So he kneels down and…very fervent. Then the whole congregation lines up—men, women, and children—and they all do it. It was good. It was love.

DANA: Feet, huh? You have quite the life.

The Shechina forces a radiant smile. Dana looks at her wedding gown which is covered with writing. She examines a place on her arm.

What’s this part here? I can’t read the Hebrew without vowels.

The Shechina gives Dana a small silver stylus that she wears around her neck and guides Dana’s hand as she runs the tip over the words.

SHECHINA: It’s from Leviticus. Proper rites of animal sacrifice in the Second Temple. The line you’re on describes folding back a flap on the kidney.

DANA: (dropping the stylus) Eww.

SHECHINA: Hey, you asked. (Half to herself.) The Temple—the last time I had a home here and could be with you all… Anyway, how are you?

DANA: Fine.

SHECHINA: Yeah? You sure?

She looks gently in Dana’s eyes and plays a little with her hair.

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DANA: I don’t know. I feel a little funny. I had that thing again, where I got claustrophobic. I couldn’t stay inside, so I went outside, but then when I got to the street, I felt overwhelmed, so I went back in. And then, I swear, I almost had to go right back out. I was walking toward the door…but, I ended up taking a bath and it calmed me down.

SHECHINA: It was a panic attack.

DANA: I guess.

SHECHINA: We know where it comes from.

DANA: Right.

SHECHINA: And you’re taking steps.

DANA: I’m trying.

The Shechina puts her hand on Dana’s forehead.

Oh, that feels nice.

SHECHINA: Are you writing down your to-do lists, not repeating them in your mind?

DANA: Yes.

SHECHINA: You seeing friends?

DANA: Monica, Andre, Rebecca this week.

SHECHINA: Good. Let me hear something.

Dana weakly sings a bit of Many Rivers to Cross.

(sadly) Oh, honey.

DANA: Pathetic little voice! I can’t put any power into it! I can’t modulate. I love this song and I can’t even show it!

SHECHINA: Dana–

DANA: It’s the knot! Unhealthy! What am I gonna do?!

The Shechina touches her forehead and says the word, ‘Wisdom’

On her Mouth, ‘Beauty’
Breastbone, ‘Compassion’
Stomach, ‘Perseverance’

SHECHINA: Try it again.

Dana sings, stronger this time.

Almost there.

She touches Dana’s throat.

DANA: I just had this image: my chest was orange and I was breathing out light.

The Shechina smiles.

I’m ready.

SHECHINA: I can see that. You’ll make the audience very happy.

DANA: Right. It’s about them.

They smile at each other.

SHECHINA: By the way, Jimmy’s staying for your set. He’s struggling right now. So maybe some attention his way?

DANA: (kissing her on the cheek) I can do that. Thank you for the heads up.

She checks her watch.

It’s time. Are you ready?

The Shechina nods. Dana pours wine onto the Havdalah candle, extinguishing it.

SHECHINA: Oww.

DANA: Sorry!

SHECHINA: I’m just a little sad. Now it’s gone. Have a good week, my dear.

DANA: You too.

SHECHINA: Reach out whenever you want.

DANA: I will.

They embrace and for a moment each sings a clear note into the other’s mouths. The Shechina disappears. Dana heads for the stage.