Act One
Scene One
(A hot Sunday afternoon in the Midwest. Two parallel railings, one upstage and one downstage, represent the two sides of a bridge. Sporadic traffic can be heard. JIM, nineteen, leans over the downstage railing. He looks gangly and out of place in his thrift-store wardrobe of ill-fitting slacks, a baggy, threadbare T-shirt, a lightweight black overcoat, and a fedora. CORINTHIA, late forties, enters, crossing upstage. At once timid and excitable, she wears an upscale sundress and carries a festive balloon on a string. She leans against the upstage railing, gazing off, but occasionally glances over her shoulder at JIM. JIM takes out an old Game Boy and places it on the downstage railing, then starts to climb over. CORINTHIA quickly ties her balloon to the upstage railing, watches for a chance to cut across the “traffic,” then bolts toward JIM. A couple of horns honk. JIM steps back down. Reaching the railing, CORINTHIA smiles. JIM nods and looks down. Both are silent a long time. Suddenly, they both dodge as if something has flown close to their heads in a downward trajectory.)
CORINTHIA
Swallow.
JIM
Huh?
CORINTHIA
Hirundo rustica. The common swallow.
JIM
Oh. Bird.
CORINTHIA
Yes. Going back to the nest.
(JIM looks up for a nest.)
CORINTHIA
Under the bridge.
JIM
Oh.
CORINTHIA
I don’t mean “common” in a negative way. Just, that’s what they’re called.
JIM
Okay.
CORINTHIA
Besides, isn’t “common” supposed to be a good thing? I mean, there’s “common courtesy,” “common sense,” “the common good . . .” Huh. How did “common” ever get to sound like such a bad thing?
JIM
I don’t know. That’s weird.
(JIM turns from her and starts up his Game Boy. He bangs it a few times in frustration.)
CORINTHIA
Is that fun?
JIM
When it works.
CORINTHIA
Ah.
JIM
I’m getting a new one really soon. The latest one. It’s awesome. Loads of memory. And it’s also a camera.
CORINTHIA
Isn’t everything nowadays? I don’t like cameras.
JIM
No?
CORINTHIA
Call me cuckoo, but I just don’t like holding a metal box between my face and, you know, the thing I’m interested in. I’m the only bird-watcher I know who doesn’t own a pair of binoculars. You from around here?
JIM
No.
CORINTHIA
Oh. Where?
JIM
From?
CORINTHIA
Yes.
JIM
Prague.
CORINTHIA
Prague. Like, Europe? Really?
JIM
Yep. Don’t you believe me?
CORINTHIA
Oh, yes, it’s just that your accent is . . . well, you don’t have one.
(Another shadow darts upward.)
|
| MacLeod Andrews and Annie Golden Photo by donjé photography |
CORINTHIA
There he goes. Back out for more yummy, yummy bugs. He’ll catch them in midair, you know. Could be a different one, though. One of a thousand. At least. They live right here, under this bridge. All huddled together in nests made of river mud.
JIM
Probably peck the hell out of each other.
CORINTHIA
That would be . . . what’s that word that reminds you of a cooking show . . . counterproductive. No. Swallows don’t peck each other. They live peacefully together. They stay in pairs, faithfully, and come back to the same nests every spring. They sleep at night, and at daybreak, they fly out from under this bridge in a great and beautiful flurry. All for one, and one for all.
JIM
Really?
CORINTHIA
I kid you not.
JIM
That’s . . . pretty cool.
CORINTHIA
Pretty darn cool. If you listen real close, you can hear them. Quietly, hauntingly singing. Yet woefully unsung.
JIM
Unsung?
CORINTHIA
Do you know that, for our fifty United States, there are only twenty-nine different state birds? Do you know that?
JIM
I’ll take your word for it.
CORINTHIA
You should. Because it’s true. With hundreds of different kinds of birds to choose from. The powers that be, in their infinitesimal wisdom, could only pick the unusual birds. Or the colorful birds. Or the majestic birds. Our state bird is the cardinal. Do you know how many other states Indiana shares the cardinal with? Just because it’s—what?—red? And here are these wonderful common swallows, living and breathing the same air—literally, I mean, flying the same air. In astounding numbers. And nowhere are they represented. Why? Because they’re ordinary. They’re not conventionally attractive. They’re, I don’t know . . . just . . . common. We are supposed to be a nation ruled by the common man, but not one state in this union deigns to be represented by a common bird. Well, except Minnesota. They chose the common loon, but they had such a Scandinavian thing going on back then. I’m sure if they had it to do over, they’d try to claim the cardinal, too. Like us. And Illinois. And Kentucky, Ohio, North Carolina, and both Virginias. Both! I mean, come on, people. Come on, com-mon people! C’mon, c’mon, c’mon, c’mon, c’mon!
(JIM moves down the railing.)
CORINTHIA
I’m sorry. Did you want to be alone? I just stopped to watch the swallows. Whenever I come downtown, I park in Illinois, just so I can walk across and watch the swallows dive in and out, on their little errands. They keep pretty busy. Bustling. They bustle.
(beat)
What were you watching?
JIM
I was just playing my game.
CORINTHIA
Not when I came up. There was no metal box between your face and that river.
JIM
So?
CORINTHIA
It’d be nice to be in that river, huh? Scorcher today.
(looking him up and down)
Maybe less black? Less layers? You might feel cooler.
JIM
I’m fine.
CORINTHIA
You sure? Because you just can’t seem to take your eyes off the Wabash. Who can blame you? She’s muddy but she’s nice and cool. Who could blame somebody for wanting to get in that water the fastest way possible? But this bridge is too high for that.
JIM
Maybe. I don’t know. I heard it gets washed out sometimes, in floods, so it can’t be that high.
CORINTHIA
Still. All those cars passing. There could be small children in those cars. Do you know what I mean?
(pause)
If those children saw somebody, say, jump off this bridge, who knows? They could be scarred for life.
JIM
They will be, anyway.
CORINTHIA
Oh. I guess an optimist wouldn’t be up here thinking about the fastest way into the Wabash, now, would he?
JIM
I don’t know.
CORINTHIA
Is that . . . what you were thinking?
JIM
What, jumping? No way!
CORINTHIA
I saw you climb up.
JIM
Yeah, to sit. But then you came over, and I know girls get scared when guys sit on railings.
CORINTHIA
“Girls.” That’s sweet.
JIM
Maybe I should jump in.
CORINTHIA
No, don’t say that.
JIM
Everything sucks on dry land.
CORINTHIA
That’s why dry land needs people like you. You care that everything sucks. Wouldn’t it be a shame if the only people left on dry land were the ones that don’t care?
JIM
In Prague, in the olden times, when they wanted to do away with infidels, they just threw ‘em down from high places. Paris had the guillotine. Prague had gravity.
CORINTHIA
How economical. Nothing to sharpen.
JIM
“Defenestration,” it was called. From the Latin, for “You’re goin’ out the window, sucker!” You know, Prague is the city of a thousand towers.
CORINTHIA
That’s a lot of windows.
JIM
But they chucked some people off the bridges, too. Same principle. Just no curtains for the infidels to grab hold of. Even if they wanted to. Which they probably didn’t. They were probably glad to get defenestrated.
CORINTHIA
Do you want to call somebody? You probably have a cell phone in there somewhere.
JIM
No.
CORINTHIA
Neither do I. I never really warmed up to them, either. Can we go call somebody for you the old-fashioned way? Your mother?
JIM
I’m an adult.
CORINTHIA
I can see that, but . . .
JIM
There’s no one to call.
CORINTHIA
I’m sure that’s not true. I’m sure there are people out there who love you very much.
JIM
Nobody loves me.
CORINTHIA
What about you?
JIM
I guess I don’t love me, either.
CORINTHIA
No, I mean, do you love anybody?
(A long beat; he doesn’t answer.)
Well, then, what can you expect?
JIM
Who said I expect anything?
CORINTHIA
You’re clearly disappointed. Can’t be disappointed if you don’t expect anything.
JIM
I don’t expect a psychiatrist out here, that’s for sure.
CORINTHIA
Probably don’t expect a hug, either, but I can give you one. Can’t I?
JIM
I’m okay.
CORINTHIA
Then you should be able to handle a hug.
JIM
I said I’m okay!
(beat; sorry for yelling)
Look.
CORINTHIA
It’s okay. You’re okay.
(They suddenly duck as another shadow darts past.)
JIM
They’re going Hitchcock on us.
CORINTHIA
No. They’re not going Hitchcock. They’re going home.
JIM
Going home?
CORINTHIA
Yes. We’re just in the way. They don’t mean us any harm.
JIM
They’re good birds?
CORINTHIA
They are. Swallows are good, good birds. And you’re a good, good person.
JIM
You don’t know.
CORINTHIA
Yes, I do. Other people know it, too. Let’s go call one of them. Please.
JIM
Look. I wasn’t gonna jump, I swear, I’m just not in a very good mood. I think I’m gonna skedaddle.
CORINTHIA
Your English is so good.
JIM
Thanks.
CORINTHIA
So, you’ll go home, then?
JIM
I guess so.
CORINTHIA
And you do . . . have a home?
JIM
There’s a house I live in with other people who have the same ancestors as me, if that’s what you mean.
CORINTHIA
Yes.
JIM
Yeah, so I’m going there.
CORINTHIA
That just . . . I mean, my day is made.
(He spots CORINTHIA’s balloon, still tied to the upstage railing.)
JIM
Your birthday?
CORINTHIA
I’m twenty-five. Under the circumstances, you should probably agree with me.
JIM
Did you have a party and everything?
CORINTHIA
I just met up with some friends at the food fair downtown. Oh, hey, did you know? It’s the food fair this weekend. Yesterday and today.
JIM
Oh. Right.
CORINTHIA
I ate one ear too many. Corn. Whew. Weighs you down in this heat.
JIM
So . . . you’re probably tired now. Probably full.
CORINTHIA
Well . . .
JIM
I’m probably ruining your birthday.
CORINTHIA
It isn’t really my birthday. They give you a balloon if you go back for seconds.
JIM
Oh. Okay, well . . .
CORINTHIA
How will you get home?
JIM
Walk.
CORINTHIA
Do you want me to . . . walk with you awhile?
JIM
Nah. You parked in Illinois.
CORINTHIA
Stop by the food fair on your way. That’ll fix you up. Lots of the restaurants have booths. Great selection. Cheap, too.
JIM
Sounds . . . yeah.
CORINTHIA
Oh . . . Do you have money? Here. Have this money. Take it. Go on. Take it. Have some pulled pork on me.
(She pulls some bills out of her purse. He reluctantly takes them.)
JIM
You’re nice.
CORINTHIA
And you’re welcome.
(JIM looks at the money in his hand. He suddenly thrusts it back toward CORINTHIA.)
CORINTHIA
No. Go. Bon appetit.
(She folds his fingers over the money. He stares at the money with a mixture of ecstasy and dread. He suddenly turns and starts off.)
CORINTHIA
Wait! Your metal box!
(She hands him his Game Boy. He takes it and runs out toward Indiana. CORINTHIA darts back across the “traffic” to the upstage railing. She grasps the balloon like a face, and plants a long, solemn kiss where the mouth might be. She unties the balloon, makes sure no cars are coming, then climbs over the railing and jumps. The balloon reappears, floating up, out of sight. Sirens blare as lights fade.)
Scene Two
(An isolated spot in the park. The sirens continue, mixed with sounds of the food fair, not far off. KAREN, forty-two, enters, struggling with two plastic plates of food, plastic utensils, and one plastic cup. Cringing from the sirens, KAREN sets everything out on the picnic table and sits, covering her ears. JIM enters from the opposite way. He’s looking back over his shoulder. She doesn’t see him. She uncovers one ear to shoo flies from the food.)
KAREN
Get outta here!
(JIM stops in his tracks. KAREN sees him.)
KAREN
Flies.
(The sirens abruptly stop.)
KAREN
Do you . . . know what happened?
JIM
Huh?
KAREN
That siren. By the riverwalk, sounds like. By the bridge.
JIM (defensively)
I was just walkin’ around.
KAREN
No, I know, I just thought . . . Well, something happened.
JIM
No doubt.
(JIM creeps closer to the table, eyes glued to the food. TRIPP, thirty-nine, enters with his plastic drink cup. JIM takes a step back.)
TRIPP (deliberately)
What’s up?
(JIM hurries away and lingers upstage, rapidly shifting his weight from one foot to the other. He seems to be looking for somebody. TRIPP sits at his waiting plate.)
TRIPP
Don’t you learn anything, livin’ in New York? Damn.
KAREN
What?
TRIPP
You’re lucky he didn’t just pull a blade and cut your ass. Or worse. Whip out a piece and pop a cap in you.
KAREN
I’d much rather be shot than stabbed.
TRIPP
You got a lot better chance of surviving a stabbing.
KAREN
I know, but they can shoot you from far away. To stab you, they have to invade your personal space.
TRIPP
Just don’t go talkin’ to some strange kid, okay?
KAREN
I just wanted to know what the sirens were for.
(She looks toward the bridge. She’ll do this often.)
God.
TRIPP
You called?
KAREN
The bridge. Looks taller than I remember.
TRIPP
River’s low.
KAREN
It’s a beautiful bridge.
TRIPP
Gets you across.
(KAREN heaves a great sigh.)
What’s the matter with you?
KAREN
What do you think it was? The sirens?
TRIPP
Probably some old fogey with heat stroke.
KAREN
With all these perfectly good trees to sit under?
TRIPP
Everybody wants a tan.
KAREN
What old fogey wants a tan?
TRIPP
I don’t know.
KAREN
I know I don’t want a tan.
TRIPP
How many people drop from heatstroke in New York?
KAREN
Some.
TRIPP
No, they don’t.
KAREN
Yes, they do.
TRIPP
No such thing as natural causes up there.
KAREN
God, these trees are gorgeous though.
(She looks up at the trees. A shadow flits across her face.)
KAREN
Here, birdy, birdy, birdy.
TRIPP
Real convincing.
KAREN
Like I was trying. God.
(beat)
I wish it was autumn now.
TRIPP
Don’t you got that in New York?
KAREN
Yeah, but the trees just turn the color of the nearest building. Brick brown. Sooty beige. And when the leaves are gone, you can see all the plastic bags stuck in the branches. Indiana autumn. That is one thing I miss.
TRIPP
Since when did you care about the leaves?
KAREN
What? I always liked them.
TRIPP
But who raked ‘em?
KAREN
That was you, because you wanted to be king of the pile. You wouldn’t rest until every leaf in the yard was in that one big heap. Taller than you were. Once mom and I watched you from the kitchen window. You had that yard spotless, and you were sitting there, actually waiting for the next leaf to fall.
TRIPP
No way.
KAREN
You totally have to remember that. And when the next leaf fell, you picked it up, carried it over and, like, placed it on the pile. Mom and I laughed so hard, you were so serious. I told her, “Watch, he’s gonna plant an American flag on there.” And she said we should pray for calm weather because one good stiff wind would destroy your world.
TRIPP
That part I remember. A good stiff wind called Hurricane Karen. Kicked my pile all to hell.
KAREN
I couldn’t help it.
TRIPP
I’ll still kick your ass for that one.
KAREN
I’m quaking.
TRIPP
Listen. We gotta get somethin’ straight.
KAREN
Let’s not—
TRIPP
Mom. Dad. The house.
KAREN
My first chance for peace since I got off the plane. Can’t we just . . . hang?
TRIPP
You don’t wanna hang with me. You just wanted to get away from the house.
KAREN
It’s both, come on.
TRIPP
Bullshit. I’m just here to chauffeur you to your personal fuckin’ space. If it weren’t for the fact you haven’t been behind the wheel in ten years, you’d have come by yourself.
KAREN
Tripp. No.
TRIPP
Mom and Dad go down to Florida, they’re liable to get confused. Taken advantage of.
KAREN
It’s not like they’re—
TRIPP
You don’t know, the last few years. They’re both slippin’. There’s somethin’ legal we can do. You can do.
KAREN
Legal—?
TRIPP
I did some research. The standard for competency—
KAREN
God!
TRIPP
—It’s pretty low in Indiana.
KAREN
I’m not gonna “loophole” my parents outta their independence.
TRIPP
Well, what they’re doin’ makes no sense.
KAREN
You know what? Just let me have my trees while I can, okay? God.
TRIPP
If you talked to God as many times as you talk about Him . . .
KAREN
Eeew. A hair in my beans.
TRIPP
See? He doesn’t like you callin’ Him out of His name.
(She pulls the hair out.)
KAREN
At least it’s long. He’s a merciful God.
(ABRA, twenty, enters, on the opposite side of the stage, smoking a cigarette. Prissy and primped, she looks like a cheerleader on her day off. Lights fade on TRIPP and KAREN eating. JIM hurries to meet ABRA.)
ABRA
Well, hello there.
JIM
Hey, Abra.
ABRA
Good. I was kinda looking for you.
JIM
Got anything?
ABRA
Crashing, are we?
JIM
Gimme a quarter gram.
(He holds out CORINTHIA’s money. She takes and pockets it.)
ABRA
Thanks.
JIM
What’re you doin’?
ABRA
You still owe me for a half.
(She rises and stubs out her cigarette.)
JIM
C’mon.
ABRA
Sorry. It doesn’t pay to be nice, I’m finding out.
JIM
I’ll get it, I promise. Here. Will you take this?
(He offers her his Game Boy.)
ABRA
That’s so retro. You couldn’t get two bucks for it on eBay. Why don’t you get some cash from . . . what’s his name? Mark?
JIM
Who?
ABRA
You know. Your boyfriend.
JIM
He’s not my boyfriend.
ABRA
I’m glad to hear it. He was totally checking me out last time. Gotta keep your eye on him if you see him again.
JIM
I’m not gonna see him ever again.
ABRA
I don’t know. He said you give incredible head. Guys come back for that shit. Listen, I gotta go. I’m meeting some friends at Eastland Mall. Hey, you wanna come? Score me some five finger discounts and maybe we can be square.
JIM
Sure.
ABRA
Actually . . . no. You look too dicey. It’s not worth it.
JIM
Abra, c’mon.
ABRA
Get me what you owe me and we’ll be fine.
JIM
Wait.
(He grabs her wrist.)
ABRA (calling off)
Eddie!
EDDIE (off-stage)
Yo!
(JIM quickly lets go of her and looks around.)
ABRA
He’s taking a leak in the trees. He doesn’t like me to be touched.
JIM
When will you be back?
ABRA
Just page me when you have the money. We’ll be up all tweakend. Oh. I almost forgot.
(She pulls out a piece of 8.5 x 11 paper, unfolds it, and compares the photo on it to JIM’s face.)
ABRA
Yep. That’s you, all right.
(He grabs it from her.)
 |
 |
| MacLeod Andrews Photo by Nathaniel Siegel |
JIM
Where’d you get this?
ABRA
On the window at the music store. I’ve seen them around, last couple of days. The post office. Supermarket. I can’t believe . . . you really haven’t seen them? I thought about trying to claim the reward, but it’s not really desirable for people to know I know you. Plus, it’s not a big enough number to be, you know, worth the risk.
JIM
Thanks.
ABRA
You should go back to your house, though. I mean, if they want you that bad.
(beat)
I live at home. My mom does my laundry . . .
(looking him up and down)
and I do whatever I want. It’s no big thing.
(beat)
Eddie, you ready?
EDDIE (off-stage)
Yup!
(ABRA exits toward the voice. JIM wanders back to his upstage position. He methodically folds and unfolds the flyer, smoothing it out on his thigh. Lights back up on TRIPP and KAREN still eating. JIM watches them. He gets an idea, and boldly approaches, holding out the flyer.)
KAREN
Did you find out anything?
(TRIPP gives KAREN a back-handed slap to the thigh.)
KAREN
Ow!
(Startled by this, JIM loses his nerve and exits.)
TRIPP
I told you, leave that kid alone.
KAREN
He acts like he’s cold. Wonder if he’s—
TRIPP
He was watchin’ you before.
KAREN
Watching me how?
TRIPP
Remember Mom’s friend Pauline?
KAREN
How’s she doing?
TRIPP
She was mugged.
KAREN
Mugged?
TRIPP
Comin’ out of the pharmacy.
KAREN
Oh my God.
TRIPP
They took her OxyContin. She’s hooked on it now, since she had her hysterectomy or whatever.
KAREN
Oh no.
TRIPP
And these thugs—they can get twenty bucks a pill on the black market.
KAREN
This is crazy.
TRIPP
Then they got her name off the bottle and broke into her house.
KAREN
Oh my God. Mom didn’t tell me anything about this.
TRIPP
Just lettin’ you know, Miss Big City. Indiana isn’t a quaint little vacation for anybody but you.
KAREN
Vacation? Scrubbing behind toilets?
TRIPP
See, Mom and Dad aren’t equipped to live on their own.
KAREN
Don’t bring that up again!
TRIPP
It’s bad enough here. Old folks down in Florida. Sittin’ there like ducks.
KAREN
You didn’t have to hit me so hard.
TRIPP
A nudge.
KAREN
Like hell. I think it’s gonna bruise.
TRIPP
You had to be quiet, and I don’t stand on ceremony.
KAREN
You could stand to stand on some friggin’ ceremony.
TRIPP
You’re family.
KAREN
Then treat me like a guest.
TRIPP
Want your Twinkies on a TV tray?
KAREN
That’s a start. Cheers.
(She tries to clink plastic cups with him. He avoids it and drinks.)
KAREN
What do you have in there?
TRIPP
Where?
KAREN
Your cup. What did you get?
TRIPP
Ginger ale. Why?
KAREN
I got Diet Coke.
TRIPP
Nice try.
KAREN
What?
TRIPP
Thought I snuck away and got a beer, didn’t you?
KAREN
No. Why? Did you want one?
TRIPP
I cut way back.
KAREN
Oh . . .
TRIPP
Like you haven’t heard all about it.
KAREN
Whatever. I didn’t say anything. But I’m glad. We’re getting too old. I even look at a cork now and I get a headache.
TRIPP
I did, I cut waaaay back.
KAREN
That’s great.
TRIPP
Yep. Don’t drink ‘til the sun goes down.
KAREN
Well, you look good. Handsome. Healthy.
TRIPP
I’ve been exercising.
KAREN
I can tell. You do—you look really good. Your skin.
TRIPP
Water.
KAREN
It’s working.
TRIPP
Had to take care of myself so I could take care of them.
KAREN
That’s great, Tripp. Hey. Get anything Italian?
(She drags her plastic fork through his food.)
TRIPP
No. Watch out. Pickin’ off of my plate. You always picked off of my plate.
KAREN
What was that you were saying about ceremony?
TRIPP
Touché.
(She tries to clink cups again. This time, he lets her.)
TRIPP
I guess we’re “hangin’” now.
KAREN
I guess we are.
(Lights fade on KAREN and TRIPP eating and cross-fade up on another part of the park. JIM holds out the Game Boy and calls after someone who has just left.)
JIM
Wait, you guys. It’s prob’ly just the battery. I swear!
(A uniformed POLICEMAN, forties, enters with a plate of food and a drink from the fair. JIM quickly stuffs the Game Boy in a pocket, closes his coat and starts off.)
POLICEMAN
Hang on there, buddy.
JIM
What?
POLICEMAN
Let me set this stuff down. I wanna talk to you.
(The POLICEMAN bends down to set his plate on the ground. He looks for a flat place in the “grass” to set down the drink. This takes him a bit of time. JIM sidles farther and farther away.)
POLICEMAN
You could probably get a head start on me, right about now. But you wouldn’t get far. Besides, I only want to talk. Come on over here. Let’s have a nice, friendly chat.
JIM
I can be friendly.
POLICEMAN
That so?
JIM
Yeah. I’m a friendly guy.
POLICEMAN
Is that what you were being just now, to those kids? Looked like they didn’t care for your brand of friendly too much.
JIM
I don’t know.
POLICEMAN
You weren’t trying to conduct some kind of transaction with those juveniles?
JIM
No Sir.
POLICEMAN
Mind if I see what’s in your pockets?
(JIM takes out the Game Boy.)
JIM
Just this. I was showing it to ‘em. Just, you know, for whatever.
POLICEMAN
It work?
JIM
Well . . . the battery’s out.
POLICEMAN
What else you got in your pockets?
JIM
Nothing.
POLICEMAN
Mind if I check?
JIM
Do I have to let you?
POLICEMAN
If I get bugs on my meat loaf, I’m not gonna be too happy.
(JIM opens his coat, revealing his pants pockets.)
JIM
Go ahead and frisk me.
(The POLICEMAN approaches him but is repulsed by his smell.)
POLICEMAN
Whew! Didn’t your daddy teach you to put some stinkum on?
JIM
It’s hot out here.
POLICEMAN
Don’t know why you’re wearing all that getup.
JIM
This is how we dress in Prague.
POLICEMAN
Prague, Oklahoma?
JIM
No.
POLICEMAN
My wife’s cousins live in that area. They don’t dress like that. All you kids, trying to look “different.” You all dress alike. Defeats the purpose. You’re wearing a uniform, just like I am. The uniform of the nonconformist. Why don’t you just turn your pockets inside out for me?
(JIM complies, with his pants pockets. They’re empty.)
POLICEMAN
What about those jacket pockets?
JIM
They’re, like, sewn in.
(The POLICEMAN uses a paper napkin as a mitt to pat on one side pocket, and then the breast pocket.)
POLICEMAN
What about that other side?
(He pats this pocket. It rustles.)
POLICEMAN
What’s in there?
JIM
It’s just a piece of paper.
POLICEMAN
Pull it out. Let me see it. C’mon. You said you were gonna be friendly.
(JIM takes out the flyer slowly and unfolds it, showing the blank back side. He shakes it to prove it’s just a single sheet of paper.)
POLICEMAN
What’s on the other side?
JIM
It’s private. A note. For my girlfriend.
POLICEMAN
Girlfriend, huh?
JIM
I drew a picture. It’s only for her to see.
POLICEMAN
Do me a favor. Clean up before you give it to her. And put some stinkum on.
JIM
I will.
POLICEMAN
If I had gloves on me, I’d be all over you right now.
JIM
I don’t have anything bad. I swear.
POLICEMAN
Well. I haven’t seen you around here before. Do me a favor and stay by the riverwalk next time. Don’t let me catch you back here again, unless you got a dog and a Frisbee. You got me?
JIM
Ants.
POLICEMAN
How’s that?
(JIM points to the POLICEMAN’s plate.)
POLICEMAN
Damn! How do they find it that fast?!
(He picks up his plate and tries to flick the ants away.)
POLICEMAN
Dadgummit. If they were black ants, I’d eat ‘em. Hell, I gotta get back in that line. Ow! They’re ornery!
(As he runs off, he switches the plate to his other hand, and rubs the bitten one against his hip to get the ants off.)
POLICEMAN
Stay in school, kid. Make your parents proud. Remember, now. Ow! Dagnabit! You’re the future.
(The POLICEMAN exits. Lights fade on JIM as he folds the flyer and pockets it. Lights cross-fade back to full on KAREN and TRIPP. KAREN takes out a cell phone.)
|
| Matt D’Amico and Elizabeth Rich photo by donjé photography |
TRIPP
So much for the trees.
KAREN
It’ll just be a minute.
(She gets no reception and sets the phone down next to her.)
KAREN
Damn. I almost get a bar if I point it this way.
(She sets the phone on the table, pointing toward a possible signal.)
TRIPP
Guess that shipment of bras will have to wait.
KAREN
I don’t just check in shipments of bras.
TRIPP
Sorry. Panties, too, huh?
KAREN
I have employees who do that.
TRIPP
Smell you.
KAREN
It can wait. I hope. So . . .
TRIPP
Uh-huh?
KAREN
You . . . seeing anybody lately?
TRIPP
Hunh-uh.
KAREN
What was her name, Lainie? Mom said she was really nice.
TRIPP
Seemed it.
KAREN
Oh.
TRIPP
It’s all good. I’m a solo pilot.
KAREN
Maybe that’s good, for a while. And Mom and Dad’ll be down south, so you can feel more . . . because, if you feel like your own person . . .
TRIPP
Who else would I feel like?
KAREN
Good. Girls are attracted to that.
TRIPP
How’s that guy you’ve been seein’ lately?
KAREN
Who has the time?
TRIPP
Mom told me you started seein’ a guy.
KAREN
Not lately. Not in forever, my God.
TRIPP
She said his name was Perry, and you just started seein’ him.
KAREN
What? Are you serious? Perry?
TRIPP
Yeah. Perry Menopausal.
(KAREN abruptly rises.)
TRIPP
C’mon, don’t be mad. It’s a joke.
KAREN
Mad? I’m not mad. I’m glad it’s starting early. I can’t wait to have that albatross off my neck.
TRIPP
Well, sit down.
KAREN
I just can’t believe she told you that.
TRIPP
She talks about you all the time. Sure she hasn’t left anything out by now. Just a wake-up call. Don’t think anything you tell Mom is a secret, because it isn’t. Just watchin’ your back.
KAREN
Thanks for the heads-up.
TRIPP
No sweat. … Probably gives you the lowdown on all my dirt, too. Huh? You got a lot on me, too, don’t you? Sure, you do. C’mon. You can tell me.
KAREN
Just that you burp too loud and use all the hot water.
TRIPP
Well . . . guess that’s all there is, then.
(They eat awhile in silence.)
TRIPP
I’m glad.
KAREN
What?
TRIPP
Perry. You can still take a joke like a man.
KAREN
Hey.
(beat)
I know one thing mom didn’t tell you about me.
TRIPP
What’s that?
KAREN
One thing she doesn’t know.
TRIPP
You gonna tell me?
KAREN
I don’t know . . .
TRIPP
Good, don’t. Secret’s a precious thing sometimes. Forget money. Secret’s the only thing you can really take to your grave.
KAREN
You sure have learned from life, haven’t you?
TRIPP
Might as well, when it’s teachin’ the hell out of you.
(KAREN looks around for JIM, who has been long gone.)
KAREN
Where’d that kid go?
TRIPP
Greener pastures.
KAREN
How old do you think he was?
TRIPP
Your type?
KAREN
No. I was just thinking . . .
TRIPP
What?
KAREN
It’s stupid.
TRIPP
What?
KAREN
Do you remember Pete Monaghan?
TRIPP
Pete. Yeah.
KAREN
Don’t you think that kid looked kinda like him?
TRIPP
Like Pete?
KAREN
Where is he now, is he married? Kids?
TRIPP
I don’t know, haven’t heard.
KAREN
Wouldn’t that be weird, if that was his kid?
TRIPP
You think he looked that much like him?
KAREN
Well. The coloring.
TRIPP
That’s half the country.
(She is silent again.)
TRIPP
What?
KAREN
Remember when I came home, right after college, for that week?
TRIPP
Yeah. What? You and Pete hook up?
KAREN (pointing offstage)
There.
TRIPP
The bridge?
KAREN
I said I was going to Evansville with Alice and Deedee.
TRIPP
Right on the bridge?
KAREN
We tried to check into that motel on the Illinois side, but there was a power outage, so they wouldn’t let us. We started across the bridge to see if this side had power. But we could tell it didn’t. And it was late. And there was no traffic. Pete and I, out there in the middle of the night . . .
TRIPP
Am I supposed to be surprised?
KAREN
No, I know, I’m not saying . . . Yeah,I was pretty crazy back then, I admit it. And talk about drunk. You know, that bar next to the motel, how it had that Clover Leaf liquor store attached to it?
TRIPP
Still does.
KAREN
They were selling warm stuff for exact change. We got two big liter bottles of Bud. It was so dark. The street lights were out, too, obviously. And the moon was nothing but a sliver. You know, how sometimes it looks like a fingernail clipping. There was just no light. I remember blindly groping toward the bridge. Then blindly groping on the bridge. I remember leaning against that railing, while Pete was just . . . I was so scared the railing was gonna give way.
TRIPP
I’m eatin’.
KAREN
Then I heard it. A noise, like purring, from underneath the bridge. The whole bridge was . . . I don’t know what else to say, purring. It was like Pete and I were these tiny fleas grinding away on a sleeping cat. And our movement was scratching an itch the cat could feel in its sleep. So it purred. Thanking us.
TRIPP
What’s the point of tellin’ me this?
KAREN
I just . . . always wondered what that noise was.
TRIPP
Maybe your ears ring when you’re wasted.
KAREN
No. That wasn’t it.
TRIPP
Guess you’ll never know.
KAREN
Tripp . . .
TRIPP
Yeah?
KAREN
Have you ever done something . . . I mean . . . Is there anything from a long time ago . . . Well . . .
TRIPP (impatiently)
Worse than fuckin’ on a bridge? What?
KAREN
Please, Tripp.
TRIPP
You want me to read your mind?
KAREN
It’s hard.
TRIPP
You come here twice in twenty years, and I’m supposed to know anything about your mind? That’s what’s hard.
KAREN
It’s my mind, and it’s not even easy for me.
TRIPP
Sure it is. Go find that little meth head and say, “Hey, are you the kid of a guy I fucked twenty years ago?”
KAREN
That’s what I get for hoping I could actually talk to you about something meaningful.
TRIPP
Pete Monaghan knocked you up, right? You got an abortion?
KAREN
Tripp!
TRIPP
What do you think I am, an idiot? Where else could that story go?
KAREN
How could you—?
TRIPP
Shoulda kept it a secret.
KAREN
You did warn me.
TRIPP (seemingly penitent)
Maybe we shouldn’t have come here.
KAREN
No, I wanted to see the bridge. It’s like . . . a monument to . . . something, I don’t know, a part of myself, I guess.
TRIPP
I know what you mean about monuments.
KAREN
“I was here.”
TRIPP
Yeah.
KAREN
Another thing you can take to the grave. Memory.
TRIPP
But nobody wants to, for some reason.
(Lights cross-fade to another part of the park. JIM tries to play the video game. It isn’t working. He bangs on it furiously.)
JIM
You suck! You suck! You suckyousuckyousuck!
(JIM is about to throw the Game Boy to the ground. He sees something glinting there and picks it up. It’s a quarter. He stares at it, as at a talisman, then runs to a pay phone. He puts the quarter in and dials.)
JIM
Surprise, you bastard son of a motherfucking fuck! No, don’t hang up! Mark! Wait! Please. I know. I should start off nicer. It’s my problem, I’m working on it. I swear. . . . Who wants to catch flies? . . . Oh, right. My gramma used to say that. I like how you say old-fashioned things sometimes. Okay, I’ll be honey. Not vinegar, I’m honey, honey. . . . No, not like honey dearie. I know. I know you’re not. Neither am I. I know it wasn’t. I know. We were just having—I mean, it was fun, wasn’t it? We can still have fun and we’re still, you know, not. Mark. I need. I need to. Talk to you. I want. I mean, if you want. I . . . Don’t rush me! I’m sorry. . . . No place. The park, somewhere. Come meet me. We can . . .
(taking out the flyer, getting an idea)
I mean, hey. Yeah. Hey. We can make some money-honey. Take me home. Yeah. Take me home. . . . I’m no place, I said. By a phone. Take me home. It’s a gold mine. . . . My folks’ll pay a thousand bucks to whoever takes me home. . . . No, it’s totally true. Take me home, Mark. Marky. . . . No, they won’t. They won’t remember that by now. They won’t know it was you. Come meet me. Take me. We’ll get the money-honey. . . . I am making total sense! Take me home! . . . Hello? Hello?
(He bangs on the phone and finally hangs up.)
JIM
There’s no place like . . . no place like . . . no place like . . . no place like . . . no place.
(Lights cross-fade back to KAREN and TRIPP.)
KAREN
There goes that ambulance. No siren.
TRIPP
Maybe the old fogey recovered.
KAREN
Oh, good.
TRIPP
Either that, or where they’re takin’ him, there’s no rush.
(beat)
By now, I’ve put Mom and Dad both in one of those scream-wagons. Mom last year. Dad twice, in the last five. They get down to Florida, who knows—
KAREN
They’re gonna be in a retirement community where everybody is as feeble as they are. It’s set up to take care of them.
TRIPP
Why doesn’t Dad sell the house?
KAREN
Here. Taste this potato salad. Can you tell what that is?
TRIPP
You just said what it is. You gotta tell Dad—
KAREN
It’s so yellow, though.
TRIPP
It’s potato salad.
KAREN
No, I know, but there’s something in it. Something yellowy. What is it, egg yolk? Mustard?
TRIPP
I don’t know. Maybe it’s E. coli.
KAREN
What was it Mom used to use?
TRIPP
Karen, you gotta tell Dad to sell the house and give us our shares.
KAREN
The market’s so awful now.
TRIPP
Not anymore, depends on the location—
KAREN
Paprika!
TRIPP
Come again?
KAREN
What Mom put on the potato salad. I was, like, it’s not deviled eggs—
TRIPP
Housing market’s on the rebound, especially for—
KAREN
—but she kept saying that’s what deviled eggs are. Boiled egg whites with potato salad in them.
TRIPP
We’re on two full acres—
KAREN
Mom put Paprika on everything because she liked the color.
TRIPP
—Prime district for public schools—
KAREN
At least she cooks. The only thing I make for dinner is a phone call.
TRIPP
Lainie’s cousin does real estate, and she said—
KAREN
I used to try, though, didn’t I?
TRIPP
I’m tellin’ you—
KAREN
Dad never ate my cooking. Not once. He’d say, “If you aren’t gonna do it right the first time, don’t do it at all.” So I’d say, “What ever happened to, ‘If at first you don’t succeed?’” And he’d say, “If at first you don’t succeed, I’m gonna laugh at you.” No matter what I did, it was never—
TRIPP
Cut the shit, goddammit, I’m talkin’ to you!
(beat)
KAREN
I’m glad they’re not selling the house. I think it’s smart.
TRIPP
Smart?
KAREN
It’s the best thing for everybody.
(JIM enters, looking tired and frustrated. TRIPP and KAREN notice him and fall silent. JIM sits far upstage and starts folding and unfolding the flyer again.)
TRIPP
Not everybody. Mom doesn’t wanna move to friggin’ Florida.
KAREN
What makes you say that?
TRIPP
They were her words.
KAREN
Mom said “friggin’”?
TRIPP
And she doesn’t want to rent the house out to strangers and have me waitin’ on ‘em hand and foot.
KAREN
But, Tripp, that’s not—
TRIPP
What?
KAREN
Not what she tells me.
TRIPP
Tells you when? You never call.
KAREN
Mom and I email all the—
TRIPP
Emailing mom isn’t gonna do jack. She’s not gonna tell your precious head anything important.
KAREN
Then why didn’t you tell me?
TRIPP
What the hell would you have done? What could you do? Jack.
KAREN
Okay, but I’m here now. I’ll do Jack and Jill if you let me off the hook long enough.
TRIPP
Okay. So . . . what will you do?
KAREN
Mediate.
TRIPP
Mediate?
KAREN
I could mediate, I mean, if I really thought Dad was dragging Mom to Florida against her will. But I don’t think that.
TRIPP
It’s not Florida so much. It’s havin’ strangers in the house, when it’s still our house. Havin’ her son live there like a slave to some strangers.
KAREN
Think of it like a super. In my building, there’s a super. A man who takes care of the building and lives there rent free. It’s a win-win.
TRIPP
Yeah, for losers. What, was this your idea?
KAREN
No. I’m just saying—
TRIPP
You told ‘em to lock me down in that friggin’ basement?
KAREN
You already live in the basement. They figure this way the house can make money for us. It was their idea, but yes, I thought it was perfect.
TRIPP
Perfect. To lock me up like a damn . . . prisoner.
KAREN
You’re not locked—
TRIPP
The fuck! I got a better idea. Sell the friggin’ house and let us have the money.
KAREN
Five generations, Tripp—
TRIPP
Like you care about generations.
KAREN
Besides, this way you— we’ll always have a home here. Where we grew up. That’s what Mom wants.
TRIPP
Why can’t I just live in it by myself, then?
KAREN
They can’t afford that.
TRIPP
The house is paid for.
KAREN
But there are taxes, aren’t there? And, I don’t know, bills and things—
TRIPP
Lights? Cable? I can swing that.
KAREN
And with the place in Florida, it’s too much, and you—
TRIPP
I could get a job.
KAREN
Yes . . .
TRIPP
You don’t think I can get a job?
KAREN
You’re good at getting jobs.
(beat)
TRIPP
No sooner do I start punchin’ a clock again, than Mom breaks her arm. Dad goes in for a friggin’ heart thing. What? I’m supposed to work so I can pay somebody else to look after ‘em?
KAREN
Then go with them to Florida.
TRIPP
The hell I will!
KAREN
Tripp—
TRIPP
You want your damn monuments. I can have mine, too. That house is mine.
KAREN
And you can’t wait to unload it!
TRIPP
You gotta tell Mom and Dad to sign it over to me now.
KAREN
Dad’s gonna do what he wants.
TRIPP
So much for mediating.
KAREN
They’re doing this for us.
TRIPP
Us? I’m the one who’s gonna be kowtowin’ to strangers.
KAREN
It’s just repairs.
TRIPP
Just repairs. Well, if I’m doin’ all this work, I think I should at least get the house when they die.
KAREN
Die, my God. Don’t rush them.
TRIPP
But they’re gonna, sometime. And when they do, I should get the house.
KAREN
Right. You do, basically.
TRIPP
Basically?
KAREN
We both get it. And I’ll never be around.
TRIPP
You know what the will says.
KAREN
That’s what I assume.
TRIPP
No. I know you know. They’re leavin’ it to you.
KAREN
It’s a name-only thing.
TRIPP
So, you do know.
KAREN
It’s not like I’m gonna sell it out from under you. Even if I wanted to, which I never would, I’m not allowed.
TRIPP
See, you totally know—
KAREN
They just—
TRIPP
—what that will says. Acting all innocent, you totally know. Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doin’. Feedin’ me your secret sob story, about your secret lost kid, so I could feel sorry for you? Or talkin’ about how Mom can’t cook and Dad doesn’t appreciate you. So I’ll be able to relate. Feel closer to you after twenty years of “Happy Birthday” on a friggin’ answering machine.
KAREN
I know, but I’ve totally kept tabs on you—
TRIPP
Tabs? What the hell are tabs?
KAREN
Calm down!
TRIPP
You’re just tryin’ to make me feel sorry for you now, so I won’t try to claim what I know I deserve and you don’t.
KAREN
I don’t want anything from you.
TRIPP
Don’t need anything, that’s for damn sure. You got yours. You got your penthouse—
KAREN
It’s not a penthouse.
TRIPP
Your employees. Your super.
KAREN
Anything Mom and Dad want to give you, you’re welcome to. I want you to have whatever you—
TRIPP
Whatever’s gonna shut me up.
KAREN
You’re my only brother. I care about you.
TRIPP
That why you’ve been gone all your damn life getting’ your personal fuckin’ space? Anybody gets too close, and it’s time to move. Or somethin’ starts growin’ inside,and it’s time to re-move. Lord only knows how many little meth heads runnin’ around that mighta been yours.
KAREN
You bastard!
TRIPP
I’m the one who’s been here! Lookin’ after ‘em all this time!
KAREN
They’ve been looking after you! That’s why they won’t leave you anything! They’re afraid you’ll sell it and piss away the proceeds in a month!
TRIPP
Then why is Mom always thankin’ God for my protection?
KAREN
She likes to encourage it when you’re religious—
TRIPP
What do you mean, when? I always honor my father and my mother. What the hell do you do? Everybody, even you, always thankin’ me for my support. My support!
(JIM turns to watch them argue.)
KAREN
We have to puff you up, don’t you get it?! To keep you from—
TRIPP
What?
KAREN
Because—
TRIPP
Because what?
KAREN
Because you’ve always been one step away from . . .
(KAREN looks toward JIM. She sees he’s watching them. She looks away, embarrassed.)
KAREN
I mean . . .
TRIPP
You mean what, slut?
KAREN
God help us all if you don’t feel like the king of your stupid little pile!
TRIPP
You know what? Take the fuckin’ pile! Take it all! Take the car, too. It’s not in my name either!
(TRIPP throws his car keys at her.)
KAREN
Tripp . . .
TRIPP
Don’t call me by that name! I got nothing to that name!
KAREN
Please.
TRIPP
Get outta here!
KAREN
What are you gonna do?
TRIPP
Get your fuckin’ whore ass in the family fuckin’ car and get the fuck outta here!
KAREN
I’m not used to driving.
TRIPP
Go! Get the fuck outta my space!
(TRIPP shoves KAREN violently. She falls to the ground. JIM’s agitation grows until he sees that TRIPP is letting KAREN get up unmolested.)
KAREN
I’ll wait at the car. When you calm down, you can—
TRIPP (contained)
I said go home.
(KAREN fears this tone more than the yelling. Without another word, she takes the keys and stumbles out. TRIPP spots KAREN’s cell phone where she left it on the picnic table. He chuckles, pockets the phone and saunters off in the opposite direction, toward the bridge. JIM steps forward.)
TRIPP
What are you lookin at?
(TRIPP continues off.)
JIM
Wait.
TRIPP
Fuck you. I don’t want your jacked-up Game Boy.
JIM
No. I know how we can both make some money.
TRIPP
What the hell are you talkin’ about?
(JIM shows TRIPP the flyer.)
JIM
We can split this.
TRIPP
Huh?
JIM
Turn me in and collect. We can split it.
(TRIPP looks from the flyer to JIM and back.)
TRIPP
This isn’t even you.
(JIM quickly takes his hat off.)
JIM
Yes it is. I swear. Look. It’s me . . .
(TRIPP exits toward the bridge. JIM looks at the flyer again, and starts fiddling with his hair. Watching to make sure TRIPP is long gone, JIM rushes to the table and starts wolfing down TRIPP’s and KAREN’s leftovers. After a moment, KAREN reenters.)
KAREN
Did you see . . . there was a cell phone . . .
(JIM gestures toward the bridge.)
KAREN
My brother has it?
(JIM nods, still chewing. KAREN starts in TRIPP’s direction, then pauses, fearful. She looks at the car keys in her hand, then flinches and looks up at the sky.)
KAREN
Rain. Fuck. God.
(beat)
Well . . . I don’t have any money . . .
(KAREN heads back the way she came. With one glance back at JIM, she hurries out. JIM stuffs his face as the rain gets harder. He wraps the overcoat around his head like a shawl. This suddenly inspires him to crouch over and act the part of a little old lady.)
JIM (in a squeaky voice)
Eh, Babushka. Lookin’ good, Babushka! Thank you very much, dearie. Have an apple, dearie. He he he. Come to the window, dearie. He he he. Enjoy the view. Dearie, perhaps you would like a closer look . . .
(breaking the character)
Oh, man, this is genius.
(JIM takes out his broken Game Boy and starts playing it furiously. BABUSHKA, an old crone, appears. She stands still, watching JIM. JIM’s eyes dart back and forth between BABUSHKA and the Game Boy.)
JIM
Yeah. There’s a babushka at the door. She brings you in, and up and up the stairs.
(BABUSHKA makes beckoning gestures toward JIM.)
JIM
Yeah. Leads you up with a lantern, ‘cuz it’s totally dark. There’s shit on the stairs. Spiders, spilled oil from the lantern, I don’t know, a rat. You follow Babushka up the stairs. She keeps glancin’ back and smilin’. But there’s a big shadow from her head rag, so you can’t see her eyes. Just two, like, white laser beams peerin’ out from the black. So you get to the top of the stairs and she opens this, like, huge creaky door, and motions you to go in. Go in. Go in. Yeah. The room’s full of light, you get blinded after that dark staircase. Spiral, I should have said that before. Spiral. But now you’re in the light, bright room, you can’t even see the walls at first.
(BABUSHKA now slowly repeats a downward gesture.)
JIM
Then Babushka’s at the window. You didn’t even see her move. There’s a hundred babushkas at a hundred windows. And no matter which one you pick, you fall. Yeah, it won’t work unless you fall. And then the trick is, breakin’ the fall. Grabbin’ shit along the way to slow you down. Shootin’ dragons that pop out of the moat. Or dancing gypsy girls, but you’re fucked if you shoot the girls. Them, you don’t shoot. Every dragon you blow the head off of, and every gypsy girl you kiss, slows you down, down, until you’re not fallin’ anymore, but just kinda drifting. If your hand-eye is, like, amazing and you don’t miss anything, you could even start floatin’ back up, and past the window, and just into the ether. But if you miss too many, you land in the manure, like a Catholic. And you get stuck there. And Babushka rips off her do-rag and you realize she’s a big ol’ sweaty Protestant, lookin’ down and laughin’ at you from the window. You’re her prisoner for life. Unless you can find the gold shovel, and dig your way out. You don’t get bonus points for that, though. You just get out. But it coulda been worse, because if you totally suck, you just, like, splat. Even the manure is somethin’ you had to earn. To break your fall. Or, if you really, really totally suck, you don’t even make it up the stairs— the spiral stairs— to begin with. You maybe don’t even meet Babushka. Game over.
(beat)
But if you’re really, really amazing, Babushka turns into this dancing gypsy hottie, and you guys totally hook up. Man, this is genius. It’s genius. I’m gonna be so, so, so, so rich.
(JIM takes out the flyer and gazes at it as lights fade. End Act One.)
Contributor’s notes
Introduction
Author’s Commentary
Director’s Commentary
Playbill