DAVID CAUDLE | The Common Swallow

Act Two

Scene One

(A while later. Sirens briefly flare up and stop as lights rise. KAREN sits behind the wheel of a stationary vehicle, not literally represented, on one side of the stage. A light flashes behind her. The POLICEMAN stands at her “window” looking at her driver’s license.)

POLICEMAN
New York? City?

KAREN
Yes.

POLICEMAN
Down for a visit?

KAREN
Yes.

POLICEMAN
Picked a good weekend. We got a food fair going on downtown in the river park.

KAREN
I know. I was there.

POLICEMAN
Did you try the meat loaf? Best I’ve had in I don’t know when.

KAREN
Please, Officer—

POLICEMAN
Do you know how fast you were going, Miss . . . Mitchell?

KAREN
I was very upset. I’m sorry.

POLICEMAN
When you’re upset, last thing you should do is get behind the wheel.

KAREN
I know. I’m sorry.

POLICEMAN
I clocked you at sixty-three in a forty mile zone.

KAREN
I’m sorry. Please.

POLICEMAN
Who is this Howard Mitchell? Husband?

KAREN
It’s my father’s car.

POLICEMAN
So this is your old stomping ground.

KAREN
Yes.

POLICEMAN
Kept your maiden name, or went back to it?

KAREN
I never married.

POLICEMAN
Smart girl. Some would say.

KAREN
Please, Officer. I’m very upset.

POLICEMAN
You gonna be okay to drive away from here?

KAREN
Yes. I will.

POLICEMAN
Gotta write you up for this. No getting around it.

KAREN
Fine. Go ahead.

POLICEMAN
Don’t need your permission.

KAREN
No, I know that.

POLICEMAN
You wanna talk about what’s got you so . . .

KAREN
I’d rather not.

POLICEMAN
Citation won’t make things any better, though, will it?

KAREN
No.

POLICEMAN
I’m sorry about that. But I’m not the kind that only gives warnings to pretty faces.

KAREN
Can I pay you cash now? How does that work? Because I won’t be able to appear—

POLICEMAN
Not planning on coming back soon?

(KAREN succumbs to tears. She sobs with abandon.)

POLICEMAN
Oh, hey. Hey. It’s okay.

(gently)

What’s that they say about “going home again?” C’mon, it’s okay.

(She slowly regains her composure.)

POLICEMAN
Home for me was across the border. Back east a ways, in Kentucky. I remember, from my own back yard, watching the clouds swirl up over Pine Mountain. Cooling my ankles in Frog Holler Creek.

KAREN
Yee haw. Oh my God, that just flew out. I didn’t mean—

POLICEMAN
My dad taught at a state college. I got a good education.

KAREN
I’m sorry.

POLICEMAN
I chose this job. Have a nice home here, and family. Wife and I, we’d like nothing more than to take the kids back east for summers.

KAREN
How many?

POLICEMAN
Every summer.

KAREN
Kids.

POLICEMAN
Oh. Boy and two girls. Like I said, we’d like to take them back east for summers. Holidays. To the Holler and the Mountain. But we don’t. My folks come here. You might wonder why, when I don’t have a creek here for the kids to play in, or a mountain to look up at. Reason is, now my folks haven’t got those things, either. Not anymore.

KAREN
Florida?

POLICEMAN
Oh no, they still have the same house. Same back yard. But all that’s left to look at is a gray moonscape I like to call a black-and-white picture of hell. Miners. Shaved off Pine Mountain from the top down. Took the ten percent that was coal. Spread the other ninety out in the Holler, filled it in, poisoned the creek. The ground. The air. 

KAREN
Oh God, I can’t, I can’t do this, just give me the ticket.

POLICEMAN
Once I start filling this out, I have to finish.

KAREN
I understand.

(He winces as he writes on the ticket.)

POLICEMAN
This is gonna hurt me as much as it hurts you.

KAREN
What’s wrong?

POLICEMAN
Went to battle with some fire ants and lost.

KAREN
Oh wow, it’s all swollen. Maybe you’re having an allergic reaction. You could go into anaphylactic shock.

POLICEMAN
It’s not a problem. Just smarts a little bit to write.

KAREN
Then you better just stop writing. I won’t tell anybody.

POLICEMAN
Nice try.

KAREN
I do what I can.

POLICEMAN
Yeah, you’re gonna be okay.

KAREN
Thanks.

POLICEMAN
You know, about before. What I started to tell you. I just wanted to say. I know how y’all must have felt up there, in New York City, when your skyline got a hole in it.

KAREN (taken by surprise)
You do, huh?

POLICEMAN
Back in Kentucky, West Virginia, our skyline’s getting hundreds of holes. Only our own country’s doing it to us.

KAREN
What does this have to do with speeding?

POLICEMAN
What do fire ants have to do . . . what does anything have to do with anything? I just thought—

KAREN
You just thought you have a captive audience here and you can just say whatever you want to me. Never mind that I’m clearly upset, and I’ve said so.

POLICEMAN
You got better.

KAREN
Is there a complaint I can make, for . . . unnecessary . . . police . . . verbosity?

POLICEMAN
I get you. Okay. My apologies.

(He writes in silence, humiliated but taking it. She watches him, slowly softening as he hands back her license, then her registration.)

KAREN
Thank you.

POLICEMAN
Decent picture, by the way. You’re lucky.

KAREN
Sir—

POLICEMAN
Right. I’m off the subject again.

KAREN
I didn’t mean—

POLICEMAN
No, you’re right. I just thought, when you got back up there, you might tell a few people. And they’d tell a few people . . . Never mind. Y’all are too busy up there to—

KAREN
Just don’t go comparing skylines. That’s not the way.

POLICEMAN
I guess I tend to get a little myopic on my topic. Hey, something funny happened there. Myopic on my topic. What’s that called? It’s not a palindrome . . ..

KAREN
You know, it’s not like we’re too busy up there. We do tons of email blasts about things all the time. And marches. Rallies. I stood out in the February cold for an antiwar protest a couple years ago. I don’t know why they couldn’t wait ‘til April. It’s not like the war was going anywhere. God, that wind . . .

POLICEMAN
Oh, don’t I know it. When I was younger back home, I went door to door in all kinds of weather, collecting signatures to stop mountaintop removal mining. That’s what it’s called, you know. Mountaintop removal. Just the fact of its name. The fact that anybody hearing that name can still think it’s a good idea. I preached, flirted, cajoled ‘til my throat seized up. But it didn’t do a bit of good. Signatures. Hieroglyphics.

KAREN
I always vote green.

POLICEMAN
Everybody told me, “You can’t change the world.” I always thought that was funny. Those miners were the ones changing it. And they sure could, too.

KAREN
Well . . .

POLICEMAN
Hardest part is, nobody outside of a hundred miles has ever heard the words mountaintop removal. But the whole country knows when somebody finds a finger in a cup of take-out chili.

(beat)

KAREN
I’m so sorry.

(beat)

KAREN
Do you . . .?

POLICEMAN
What?

KAREN
Have a . . . no. Never mind.

POLICEMAN
Have a what?

KAREN
Have a cell phone on you?

POLICEMAN (pulling his cell phone out)
Number?

KAREN
917-

POLICEMAN
That New York?

KAREN
Is it all right? The phone itself is here. Somewhere. If that makes a difference.

POLICEMAN
No, it doesn’t. It’s okay.

KAREN
I’ll dial. Your fingers . . .

POLICEMAN
Keys stick if you don’t hit ‘em right. Easier for me to do it. What comes next?

KAREN
Thank you. 465-7364. 

(He dials the number and hands the phone to her. She waits.)

KAREN
Do you think he’ll answer? Should I leave a message? I mean, would he be able to get it without, like, a password or something?

POLICEMAN
Do you normally have to punch in a password?

KAREN
No, there’s a message button that I just push, but, I mean, it’s my phone.

POLICEMAN
Phone’s not gonna know who’s pushing the button.

KAREN
Right. Oh good, so he can get it. If he even . . .

(into the phone, away from the POLICEMAN)

If you get this. If you . . . listen. Call and tell Mom and Dad where you are. I’ll come get you. We can talk about this. Please. If you hear this . . . Answer. Soon.

(She hands the phone back.)

POLICEMAN
Tell you what. I’m just gonna check this box here, and that makes this not a citation, but a warning. Not because you got a pretty face, which you do. Because you’re from New York, and I always wanted to talk about Pine Mountain to somebody from up there. Maybe, if you have a minute, you’ll do one of those email blasts. You know, if you . . . think about it.

(beat)

Well. Hey. These roads are pretty slick. You drive safely, now, and have a nice evening.

(He tears off the warning ticket and hands it to her as lights fade.)

 

Scene Two

(After dark. A cheap motel room is suggested by a bed, a night stand and a TV on a rolling cart in a large pool of light. TRIPP enters, leading RED, a very young, slightly tipsy woman by the arm.  TRIPP helps her out of her jeans jacket, revealing a cheap, skimpy top. TRIPP tosses RED’s jacket aside, sets her down on the edge of the bed and stands right in front of her. He unzips his pants and reaches in to yank “it” out.)

RED
Hey—

(The cell phone in TRIPP’s pocket rings.)

RED
Aren’t you ever gonna answer it?

(TRIPP pulls the cell phone out of his pants pocket, looks to see who’s calling, and throws it across the floor. They both watch it until it stops ringing.)

RED
What are you—why don’t you just turn it off?

TRIPP
Huh?

RED
It rang, like, twenty times at the bar and you don’t ever answer it, so why not just turn the thing off?

TRIPP
I don’t wanna talk, I want . . . just do what you’re here for.

(He leans into her again.)

RED
Just give me a minute, okay?

(RED gets up, gives the room a once-over.)

RED
Where’s your, like, luggage?

TRIPP
I travel light.

(RED peers directly out into the audience, then turns away.)

TRIPP
What the hell was that?

RED
Nothin’.

TRIPP
What were you looking for out there?

RED
I didn’t see nothin’. Lights on the river road.

TRIPP
You got some friends out there?

RED
No. Nobody’s out there.

TRIPP
You swear to God?

RED
I swear. Nobody. Nobody.

(RED begins to weep.)

TRIPP
Oh fuck. I hate new hookers.

RED
I’m no hooker! Not a new one, or an old one, or any . . . duration of hooker!

(RED runs out of the light. She stays just outside, and begins sobbing violently. TRIPP ignores her, pointing the remote toward the TV. It doesn’t work. He looks at the remote, then tries the knob on the TV. Nothing. RED stomps her feet, as if pounding on the door.)

TRIPP (to the door)
Hey, I’m talking to the front desk, here! They’re gonna call the cops!

(The stomping and sobbing both cease. Suddenly, a loud hiccup pierces the darkness outside the pool of light. More silence, then the hiccup is repeated a few times. More silence. TRIPP strains to listen, but hears nothing. He goes to the edge of the light, which expands slightly to include her. RED stays where she is.)

RED
I need my jacket.

TRIPP
What jacket?

RED
My jean jacket. The one you helped me out of. Like a gentleman.

TRIPP
Oh.  C’mon in. C’mon. It’s gotten chilly out there.

RED
I’ll wait here.

TRIPP
I won’t touch you.

(She won’t budge. He goes to retrieve the jacket.)

TRIPP
Look, if you say you’re not a hooker . . .

RED
I’m not!

TRIPP
Why else would a woman be at that bar?

RED
I thought you were a gentleman.

(TRIPP pats down the jacket before he picks it up.)

TRIPP
I thought we were gonna . . .

RED
You were nice at the bar.

TRIPP
It was a misunderstanding, okay? I’m not an asshole.

RED
If I was a man, I think I’d be extra nice to hookers.

(He hands her the jacket. She quickly digs into one of the pockets. TRIPP flinches, as if she might have a weapon.)

RED
What? Scared of a wedding ring?

(RED pulls her wedding band out of the jacket pocket. She puts it on her finger.)

TRIPP
Look. I’m not an asshole. You acted a certain way at the bar, then on the way across the parking lot, you’re looking over your shoulder the whole time, and as soon as you get inside you look through the window like you’re signaling to some guys to come in and rob me and kick the shit out of me. I wanted you to see I was too tough for that.

RED
Are you?

(He doesn’t answer.)

RED (softening)
Then why did you even bring me in here?

TRIPP (matching her tone)
Why did you come?

(She hiccups again.)

TRIPP
You always hiccup when you cry?

RED
I think I get dehydrated or something.

TRIPP
Wait a sec.

(TRIPP exits in another direction and returns with some tissue and a clear plastic motel cup filled with water. He holds the cup while she blows her nose. Then he hands her the water. RED leads him downstage and points out into the audience.)

RED
Just south of the bridge here on the Illinois side. See all that industrial-looking metal stuff on that roof?

TRIPP
What is that?

RED
It’s my house. My husband Dewey had central air put in, but we haven’t got an attic, so the unit and the ducts and all are on top of the roof. But look at the house. It’s teensy. Reminds me of an ant, you know, carryin’ something five times its size, or whatever. Dewey’s daddy says our AC and the Great Wall of China are the two things on Earth that you can see from outer space. Still no lights on. He isn’t home, and I’m not goin’ back first. He needs to get home and find me still gone. That’s why I was lookin’ out the window. It wasn’t a signal. I was lookin’ for a light.

TRIPP
Okay. You can watch from here.

RED
No, I better go.

TRIPP
Where?

RED
Back to the bar, I guess.

(The cell phone rings again. He ignores it until it stops.)

RED
You runnin’ from somebody? Somethin’? You break the law?

TRIPP
No. Not the law. Listen, don’t go yet. Don’t go back to that bar. You might run into—

RED
Somebody like you?

TRIPP
We can leave the door open. It’s not gonna rain again.

RED
Is there somethin’ you wanna talk about?

TRIPP
That’s what I don’t wanna do. I’m really not up for any kind of palaver. We can just . . . you can just wait for the light. Safe.

(There is a long pause while RED considers her options. She spots the remote control and points it at the TV.)

RED
How does this . . .?

TRIPP
It’s broken. No, not the remote. The set.

RED
I doubt this place is full. You could switch rooms.

TRIPP
I’m not gonna switch rooms for the sake of TV. It’s not something I can see myself doing.

RED
Oh.

TRIPP
Okay, so . . . I’m gonna just . . .

(TRIPP stretches out on the bed face up and covers his eyes with one forearm.)

RED
I just have to sit down. Is . . . that . . .

TRIPP
Yeah, that’s cool.

RED
You remember my name, don’t ya? It’s Red. My mama said never get in bed with a man without y’all knowin’ each other’s names, so . . . mine’s Red, in case you forgot.

TRIPP
I’m Tripp.

RED
You mean, like, now, you’re on a trip?

TRIPP
Yeah, but with two p’s.

RED
Oh. At the bar, I thought you said “Rick.”

TRIPP
Nope. Tripp.

RED
Any . . . special meaning behind that?

TRIPP
Nope.

(pause)

RED
You didn’t ask about my name. I mean, it’s not like my hair is red, or anything like that.

(TRIPP covers his eyes again. RED sighs, looks around, then closes her eyes tight. After a moment, she starts to laugh aloud and nod her head up and down defiantly.)

RED
Sorry for laughin’. It ain’t you. I was just rememberin’ what I said to Dewey. Tonight. Before I left.

(TRIPP doesn’t answer. RED takes it as an invitation to continue.)

RED
I was in the kitchen, fixin’ dinner. I wanted to pick up some stuff from the food fair, but Dewey wouldn’t have it, he said that garbage sits out in the hot sun all day and can’t be good. God forbid we ever have a meal I don’t have to clean up after. Anyway, I’m getting’ dinner started, and Dewey saunters in all important and ready to be thanked for puttin’ in a day’s work, like I don’t have a job, too, even though mine’s part-time, but it pays more an hour. He wanted . . . a show, or somethin’, and at first I was mad, but I kinda got into it, and I started to give him a show, but he just . . . stared at me, like, bored, and then he said this thing that I didn’t like. So I just looked at him and I said . . .

(visibly gaining stature and dignity)

Your “doormat”? And why would you complain, if I were? I think, if I was your doormat, you should be damn happy about it. And if I was, what kind of doormat would you say I am? One that says, “Welcome,” just beggin’ you to grind the day’s mud and gravel into me? Or one of those woven ones, that sorta remind you of flattened birds’ nests? The dirt and the odd leaf look like they belong. Or am I made of Astroturf? Do I seem soft and to the purpose, but actually repel whatever you try to rub off, and secretly hope one day to scratch that tender skin on the bottom of your foot? I just think you ought to be really clear with me, since you say I’m your “doormat." Because there are so many different kinds, different ways of being . . . that.

TRIPP
Hey.

RED (barrelling on)
See, you have no idea what to say because you really know that I am not your damn doormat. Yes, I am accommodatin’ to your needs. You’re a needy person. That means you’re weak, not me.

(getting louder and louder)

Hell, yes I give a lot. But that just proves I have a lot to give. And I don’t give one speck more, believe you me. I know what I need to keep back, for myself, and I keep it back. You’d never know, though, ‘cause you never try to dig deep enough into me to find what I’m hidin’. And maybe I don’t mind that. Not because I don’t think I deserve any attention. Just, your lack of interest makes it easier for me to keep somethin’ to myself, apart from you!

TRIPP
Whoa!

(He puts his hands on her shoulders, to calm her.)

RED
Oh— and excuse the hell out of me, if you find my good nature so unsexy! The more I see how stupid you are, you don’t exactly have me drippin’ wet, either! You really . . . just . . . have no idea what you have been livin’ with all this time, do you? A damn doormat? No honey, I’m no doormat. I’m the door. And I’ve been standing here, wide open, waitin’ for you to take a step through and learn to live with the truth! So, if I’m the door, you just said the magic words. Close fucking sesame!

(RED slaps TRIPP across the face.)

TRIPP
Goddamn it!

(He grabs her arm with menace.)

RED
Sorry!

TRIPP
I’m not your whipping boy!

RED
I’m sorry!

TRIPP
I’m no whipping boy!

RED
I know it!

(TRIPP’s rage forms into a fist above his head. RED trembles with fear and remorse.)

RED
Oh, Lord, I deserve it. What you thought I was here for, I was here for. I was gonna let you. I was. I just chickened out. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. For everything. Oh Lord. I deserve it. I deserve it.

(TRIPP slowly lowers his arm to his side and takes a step back.)

TRIPP
Guess we’re even now. If that’s what you were after.

RED (taking a deep breath)
No. No, I swear. It was just wellin’ up . . . I mean, all night. I felt like I’d swallowed an umbrella, and it opened up on the way down, and I was chokin’ on the handle. Umm . . . You probably know I never really said any of that stuff to Dewey. I can never think up somethin’ like that on the spot. He just said what he said, and I started cryin’, and he got pissed off and lit out. Didn’t even let me be the one to leave. But maybe I’ll say it when I get back, if I can remember it.

(RED looks into the audience again.)

RED
Oh Lord! The light’s on. I gotta get back and get his dinner. He’s gonna be pissed. You want me to bring you a plate? I’m makin’ cube steak, mashed potatoes, and black-eyed peas.

TRIPP
Nah. Thanks.

RED
Okay . . . if you’re sure. I hope I didn’t mark you up, there. You got a nice face.

(RED heads for the exit, but stops.)

RED
Hey, you know what we just had? A conversation. You didn’t want a conversation.

TRIPP
Don’t sweat it.

RED
Well . . .

(She reaches the edge of the light.)

RED
Not a very good conversation, though. You know, when I play it back in my head, the only voice I hear is mine. I mean, I can see you must be in some kinda trouble, or somethin’. People don’t just check into motels with no clothes. You sure you don’t wanna talk about anything?

TRIPP
Nah. Thanks.

RED
‘Cause another ten minutes won’t kill him.

(TRIPP shakes his head, no.)

RED
And you’re sure you don’t want any cube steak?

(beat)

Okay, then . . . I hope you get yourself, you know, squared away, or whatever. Well . . . um . . .

(RED exits. TRIPP sits back on the bed. He tries the remote one more time, just in case. Nothing happens. He stares around the room, and notices the cell phone. He picks it up and studies it as lights fade.)

 

Scene Three

(Later that evening. The picnic table, the night table and a couch suggest a living room/dining room area in a middle-class suburban home. MELINDA, early forties, sits rather formally with JIM, who remains wrapped up in his overcoat. PORTER, early forties, talks on the cordless phone across the room.)

PORTER
That’s right. Extra cheese. And sun-dried tomatoes, right, honey? Honey?

MELINDA
What?

PORTER
Sun-dried tomatoes?

MELINDA
I don’t know. Sun-dried tomatoes?

(JIM shrugs.)

PORTER
Yes, sun-dried tomatoes.  . . . No, no onions this time. You’ll take our check, right? Twenty-two eighty.

(MELINDA makes out the check, signs it and rips it out.)

PORTER
Great. Thanks, Rosa.

(PORTER hangs up.)

MELINDA
We’ve gotten to be on a first name basis with a lot of new people over the past two weeks. It’s been very reassuring.

(MELINDA sets the check and the checkbook on the end table.)

PORTER
Now . . .

MELINDA
Would you like a drink or something?

(JIM shakes his head. He pulls the flyer out of his jacket pocket, carefully smoothing it out on his knee.)

JIM
Thousand dollars. Safe return.

MELINDA
We wanted it to be more.

JIM
Thousand dollars.

(JIM holds out his hand expectantly.)

PORTER
You’ve got the gall to come in here—

MELINDA
Porter. Don’t.

JIM
Safe return.

PORTER
Can’t you say anything else?

MELINDA
He’s just tired.

PORTER
Tired my Aunt Fanny.

JIM
Aren’t you glad, Dad, glad? I look like a thousand bucks.

(PORTER grabs the flyer.)

PORTER
You think this is funny?

MELINDA
We would’ve made it more, but the people that might know . . . aren’t the people who should have a lot of disposable cash. You know? I mean . . . teenagers.

PORTER
What did you expect us to offer? A million?

JIM
Eye on the line. Bottom line.

(PORTER rips the flyer in half and heads out.)

MELINDA
Porter!

JIM
Dad, wait! Honey with vinegar! Flies!

MELINDA
Oh. Catch more flies with honey—

JIM
Than vinegar, yep, yep.

MELINDA
Your grandmother used to say that.

JIM
Babushka.

MELINDA
Who?

PORTER
Jesus.

JIM
Old-fashioned sayings are always right. That’s why they’re sayings. Yep.

MELINDA
What a wonderful observation.

PORTER
Is he making sense to you?

(PORTER starts out again.)

MELINDA
Wait!

PORTER
You two seem to be on the same wavelength. Let me know when he says something intelligible to the rest of us. Or when the pizza gets here. Whichever comes first.

JIM
Dad, I got an idea! A venture capital . . .ist . . . venture! It’s capital! It is, it’s genius!

PORTER
Genius.

(PORTER exits. MELINDA approaches JIM for an embrace, but something in his manner makes her shrink back.)

MELINDA
Why don’t you take off that raincoat?

(JIM opens the coat most of the way, but leaves it on.)

MELINDA
You’re soaked. Hope you didn’t catch a chill. It really cooled off out there.

JIM
Feels good.

MELINDA
Two weeks. We had no word. We called everybody we could think of. That Bernstein boy What’s-His-Name, little Steffie Moore, Howie Dashbach . . .

JIM
Junior high.

MELINDA
Well, then, who . . .? Were you with . . . that boy the whole time? We didn’t get his name.

JIM
No! Shawna’s. Mostly.

MELINDA
Oh. Her. How could you let us worry like that?

JIM
I didn’t know you didn’t know. ‘Til . . .

(He holds up the flyer.)

MELINDA
I called to put an ad in the Gazette, but did you know? It quit printing. Can you believe it? I don’t know when the paper closed, I didn’t hear anything about it. I mean, we stopped delivery three years ago, but there was nothing on the Internet, either . . . Anyway, you’re home now and I’m so happy.

JIM
Dad’s not glad.

MELINDA
Well . . . you put us through hell the last two weeks, then you . . . make jokes about . . . claiming the reward.

JIM
No joke. Thousand dollars. Safe return. No dollars, no return.

MELINDA
Fine. You’re over eighteen.

JIM
You gonna lowball me? Thousand dollars too much for a spoiled, slutty primadonna?

MELINDA
He didn’t mean that.

JIM
You said it. Dad said “prick-teasing queer.” My own dad.

MELINDA
I hope you’re not suggesting that he ever—

JIM
Maybe he wanted to.

(MELINDA raises a hand to JIM.)

JIM
Bring it on, Mom! Bring it on!

MELINDA
Goddamn— what are you trying to do to me?

(MELINDA is almost overcome by emotion, which she struggles to suppress. JIM waits for her to recover.)

JIM
Dad’s never. Never, never, never. Why’d I say that? That’s foul, way foul.

MELINDA
Maybe you’re just disappointed. Okay, now, I guess I shouldn’t have said that.

JIM
It’s not true like old sayings. Lots of people want me, I see ‘em want me, but not you. Not Dad.

MELINDA
But we do want you, Jim. Not in the way you mean now, not— Oh, for heaven’s sake, can Doctor Freud leave the building?

(They laugh.)

JIM
We’re not sick.

MELINDA
So . . . that boy took you right over to Shawna’s that night?

JIM
Not that night. No. Night was the trailer. His friend’s trailer. His friend is in North Carolina. Mark’s watching the place. 

MELINDA
His name is Mark?

JIM
Snakes. The trailer guy has snakes, and we had to feed ‘em these cutey, little patooty mice. Snakes don’t even have to be fed every night, not even every week, but it was my luck. That was the night. He made me watch and I wanted to, too, but then I didn’t. You could see ‘em kickin’ like babies inside.

MELINDA
Oh don’t.

JIM
That was night, and then it was morning and some girl came over, and I thought she was there for the snake guy, so I’m like, “He’s out of town,” and she’s like, “Then what’s his Silverado doing here?” and Mark came out of the shower and we all had a big fight, and he took me to Shawna’s but he wouldn’t take me home, he wouldn’t, he wouldn’t return me, he wouldn’t return me safe.

MELINDA
You know, Jim, you could get just as much drama in a dorm and you’d be realizing your potential at the same time.

(JIM starts out.)

MELINDA
It’s not your whole life. These years go by fast at your age. If you’d gone straight from high school you’d be halfway through already. What? Where are you going?

JIM
I need to use your bathroom.

(JIM exits. MELINDA sets out paper plates and napkins on the table, then glasses and a couple of two-liter soda bottles. PORTER enters.)

PORTER
Things have quieted down.

MELINDA
I hope you have.

PORTER
Give me a break. It’s all I can do to look at him.

MELINDA
You have to. Until you do. Until you look at him. Hear him. Nothing’s going to change.

PORTER
Did I force him to bring that lowlife in here? Did I tell him to give the guy a blow job on our sofa?

MELINDA
He thought we were staying at the lake overnight.

PORTER
It’s my house.

MELINDA
It’s his house, too.

PORTER
I didn’t kick him out, I kicked out that lowlife, and he left with that lowlife! That’s all he wants anymore! A lowlife.

MELINDA
Porter, what did you feel when you saw him . . . doing that?

PORTER
What do you think I felt? I was disgusted. 

MELINDA
One minute I wanted to cry. Then, strangely, it didn’t seem to matter to me. I’d rather see him do that than . . .

PORTER
Drugs? Like we can make him pick one or the other? He’s on something right now, I think.

MELINDA
I think so, too. I think he’s in there taking something. That’s why he won’t take that coat off.

PORTER
We’ll see about that.

MELINDA
No. Don’t do anything yet.

PORTER
Just let him run our lives, cower and whisper about what he’s doing, as if we have no control over it?

MELINDA
We should talk to Shawna’s mother. See what she knows.

PORTER
Why?

MELINDA
That’s where he’s been. With Shawna.

PORTER
Oh. Her. Damn. Doesn’t she have a phone? Or a washing machine, for that matter?

MELINDA
I know. But he swears they thought we knew.

PORTER
Shawna’s mother’s a flake, but even she would’ve called.

MELINDA
Shh! He’s coming back.

PORTER
I don’t care. We’re gonna have this out.

(JIM enters, buttoning up his coat.)

PORTER
Take that hat off in the house. Take off that coat.

(JIM doesn’t take them off.)

PORTER
So, you’ve been at Shawna’s all this time?

JIM
Yeah.

PORTER
That’s what her mom will tell me, if I call her right now?

(JIM doesn’t answer.)

PORTER
That why you smell like a sewer in a locker room?

MELINDA
Porter—

PORTER
You were never at Shawna’s, were you? Answer me. Where’ve you been, Jimmy?

JIM
Nowhere.

PORTER
What’ve you been doing?

JIM
Nothing.

PORTER
I think we know what you’ve been doing, and it costs money. What have you been doing for the money?

JIM
Thinking. Inventing.

PORTER
What? Excuses?

JIM
No. A business. A game.

PORTER
Make up your mind.

JIM
The game is the business. One genius idea, you said. All anybody needs. I had mine.

PORTER
Oh, for crying out loud.

JIM
It is, it’s genius. It’ll make us all rich. That’s why I thought . . . thousand dollars, safe return—

PORTER
Say that one more time, and I’ll—

JIM
You and me, dad.  Together, you and me could go into a . . . we could make a . . . whattaya call . . . proto . . . protocol—

PORTER
Prototype?

JIM
Or whatever, yeah, and sell it to, like, Sony.

MELINDA
But Jimmy—

PORTER
You’re just steps away from reality, boy. Come on. You can make it.

JIM
Don’t you want to go in with me?

PORTER
In on what?

JIM
The invention.

MELINDA
Say “yes,” Porter. Just say “yes.”

PORTER
I’m not going to humor the drugs.

JIM
No!

MELINDA
Just say you’ll think about it. Who knows? Those games do make money. Kids’ll buy any old— I mean, parents’ll buy . . . well, things to keep their kids occupied. I’m sure it’s genius if he says it is. He’s always been very creative. Other people invent things, why shouldn’t he?

PORTER
What, are you on something, too?

JIM
Forget it! Thousand dollars no return!

MELINDA
Jimmy. We were getting somewhere.

JIM
I’ll get outta your hair. Outta your faces. Outta your hairy faces.

MELINDA
Why are you so cold all of a sudden?

JIM
I’m realizing my potential to be a cold spoiled slutty primadonna prick-tease queer.

PORTER
That mouth is going to get you into big trouble, young man.

JIM
Gets me out of trouble sometimes, too. Mmmm . . .

(He mimes giving a blow job. PORTER is frozen with rage. MELINDA gets the checkbook and writes methodically. Then she tears out the check and hands it to JIM.)

MELINDA
Here’s your thousand dollars. A deal’s a deal.

JIM
You didn’t fill in the name.

MELINDA
You’ll have to fill that in yourself, because I don’t know who you are. Go get my child and bring him back to me. He’s smart, funny, cute as a button, generous, always willing to help, and can’t stand to see anybody or anything in pain. If you know where that child is, you tell us, and you’ll have earned your reward.

JIM
Pollyanna’s in rehab.

(MELINDA shakes JIM violently and slaps at him. The struggle upsets the end table, spilling the checkbook onto the floor.)

PORTER
Let him go! Are you crazy?

(The doorbell rings. MELINDA quickly disengages from JIM, who falls to the floor. PORTER pulls out a couple of ones, collects them together with the check that fell on the floor, and exits. PORTER returns a moment later with the pizza, sets it on the table, and starts doling out a piece to each plate. He opens a bottle of soda.)

PORTER
Who wants diet and who wants regular?

(MELINDA collects herself and helps PORTER. JIM feels around on the floor and picks up the reward check. He takes his place at the table, and they all sit down.)

MELINDA (by way of explaining her violence)
Sometimes, I just don’t feel like I’m getting through. I just have to feel like I’m getting through.

JIM
I know.

MELINDA
All right, now. Eat up. I’m sure you can use it.

PORTER
Then go take a shower.

MELINDA
There’s fresh sheets on your bed. We just want you to be okay, honey.

JIM
I know. I will. And you’ll see. It’s a genius idea. I swear. It’s gonna make us all rich.

PORTER
We’ll talk about it tomorrow. If you’re serious about this, you’ll do some research. See who manufactures these things.

JIM
Sony, I said.

PORTER
Then you’ll google Sony. Find out how to get your ideas protected first, then find out how you get ‘em in the door. Step by step. Everything you have to do to take it to the next level.

JIM
Okay, I will. I’ll do it tomorrow.

PORTER
Good. You do that, and we’ll see what we can do from there.

JIM
I got my capital.

PORTER
Give that check back to your mother.

MELINDA
Don’t get excited, Porter. Of course I didn’t sign it.

(JIM looks at the check.)

JIM
Yes, you did.

(PORTER grabs the check from JIM.)

PORTER
This is the wrong check.

MELINDA
Oh!

(MELINDA grabs the phone and dials.)

MELINDA
Rosa? Hi, it’s Melinda Truitt. We’re just a bunch of space cases over here. About that check we gave to your driver . . .

(Lights fade as the family eats, and JIM removes his overcoat.)

 

Scene Four

(Night.  The motel room. TRIPP still holds the cell phone in his hand. He finally pushes a button and brings the phone to his ear.)

OPERATOR (voice-over)
You have eight new messages.

WOMAN (voice-over)
Karen, hi, it’s Marcy. Hope you’re not going too stir-crazy out there. Anyway, I wanted to know what to do with this shipment of bras. The packing slip says we should get—

(Chuckling, TRIPP pushes a button.)

OPERATOR (voice-over)
Next message.

WOMAN (voice-over)
Hi, Karen, Marcy again. I guess I went over the time limit. The thing is, the black push-ups were supposed to have—

(TRIPP pushes the button again.)

OPERATOR (voice-over)
Next message.

WOMAN (voice-over)
I swear to God, your phone is gonna give me a complex. Just call me at the store, okay? Or call my cell. Oh, and Suzanne’s taking really long bathroom breaks again. I mean, like Doctor Zhivago breaks. Okay. Bye.

OPERATOR (voice-over)
Next message.

POLICEMAN (voice-over)
Phone’s not gonna know who’s pushing the button.

KAREN (voice-over)
Right. Oh, good, so he can get it. If he even . . . If you get this. If you . . . listen. Call and tell Mom and Dad where you are. I’ll come get you. We can talk about this. Please. If you hear this . . . Answer. Soon.

(TRIPP takes the last swig from his beer and exits. Lights shift and change color. The motel room becomes a bedroom as PORTER and MELINDA enter, undressing for bed.)

PORTER
Take a Xanax.

MELINDA
No. Not tonight.

PORTER
Take it, or you won’t sleep. And neither will I. I have to work in the morning.

MELINDA
No. Don’t.

PORTER
We can’t both take a sick day.

MELINDA
A week. Let’s take a sick week and go back to Prague. See everybody. Take Jim to see everybody. He misses Prague.

PORTER
We can’t.

MELINDA
We can. We could start driving tonight.

PORTER
No, let him sleep. He needs it.

(JIM enters and sits on the edge of the bed as if he is in his own room, and this is his own bed. MELINDA and PORTER do not see or hear him, and he does not see or hear them.)

JIM
Now I lay me down to sleep. I pray thee, Lord, my soul to keep. If I should die before I wake, I pray thee, Lord, my soul to take.

MELINDA
He can sleep in the car. We could put him in the backseat and he might not even wake up.

PORTER
He’s not four years old.

MELINDA
Still.

PORTER
We’re not driving clear to Oklahoma in the middle of the night. What about the office? I’d have to give notice, at least, wouldn’t I?

MELINDA
Then we’ll go without you.

JIM
To take me, Lord, me down to take. Me down, my Lord, my soul to sleep. To sleep, me, Lord, before I wake. To wake thee, Lord. To wake thee, Lord. To wake thee, Lord, before I pray.

PORTER
Come on. Make sense, now. Take one.

JIM
To keep me, Lord, me down to keep. Me down. Me down . . .

(JIM lies down on the bed and tries to sleep.)

PORTER
Melinda, come on. You’ll need your strength, when you wake up tomorrow and remember he’s back.

(PORTER opens the bottle and hands it to her. MELINDA takes a pill and lies down next to JIM. PORTER stands over her, stroking her hair. JIM leaps to his feet and paces furiously, sometimes even bumping into the bed. MELINDA and PORTER don’t react.)

Douglas Rees and Annie Golden                                                                                         Photo by Nathaniel Siegel

JIM
To take thee, Lord, to keep me ‘wake. Me ‘wake. Me ‘wake. To keep me ‘wake. My soul. To wake. My soul. My soul, me Lord.

(JIM breaks away from his frantic pacing and heads purposefully to the night table.)

JIM
To take, to take, to take, to take!

(blackout)

 

Scene Five

(Late at night. A new moon hangs in the sky. A phone booth next to the bathroom doors in the park. JIM holds the phone to his ear. He is highly keyed up now, and still wears the hat and overcoat, but with a different shirt and pants.)

JIM
Abra, c’mon. Abra cadabra. Poof. Get here. C’mon. Where are you? Pick up. Pick up.

(CORINTHIA’s voice begins to echo JIM’s. He doesn’t notice at first.)

JIM
Abra, c’mon.

CORINTHIA (off-stage)
C’mon.

JIM
Where are you? Abra! Pick up! C’mon!

CORINTHIA (off-stage)
C’mon.

JIM
Cadabra! C’mon!

CORINTHIA (off-stage)
C’mon.

JIM
C’mon, c’mon, c’mon c’mon, c’mon!

CORINTHIA (off-stage)
C’mon, c’mon, c’mon, c’mon, c’mon!

(JIM finally hears the echo. He looks around, paranoid.)

JIM
Hurry.

(Lights cross-fade to KAREN, in the “car.” Sound of the engine idling. TRIPP steps up to the “window.”)

TRIPP
Found it. I knew you could.

KAREN
This is it, that motel. Where Pete Monaghan and I tried to—

TRIPP
But you couldn’t ‘cuz there was no power. Yep. This is the place. But the power’s on now. Got a room. Wanna see it?

KAREN
What, did you check in? Are you trying to hurt me somehow?

TRIPP
Everything’s about you.

KAREN
Well, I just told you about this place today.

TRIPP
Only game in town, pretty much. This is where I always come.

KAREN
How often is always?

TRIPP
Once in awhile.

KAREN
I won’t even ask why.

TRIPP
I like my space, too, sometimes. Helps me think.

KAREN
Well, come on. Mom and Dad are waiting up for us. If we don’t get back right away, they’ll probably . . . call the cops, or something.

TRIPP
Why, you think you’ll need one? C’mon. Turn the car off.

KAREN
No. You get in.

TRIPP
You think I want to do something to you? You think keeping a metal contraption between us would save your ass?

KAREN
Don’t talk like that. I know you wouldn’t do anything.

TRIPP
Besides. Mom and Dad wouldn’t leave the house to me, even then. They’d leave it to the friggin’ town, am I right?

KAREN
Don’t talk like that. Are you getting in, or not?

TRIPP
Where did you tell ‘em I’ve been?

KAREN
Just that you . . . had a friend you wanted to see. 

TRIPP
Atta girl.

KAREN
Come on. Get in.

TRIPP
Nope. Not going back tonight.

KAREN
Then why did you—? What’ll Mom and Dad think?

TRIPP
You watch. They won’t even say anything tomorrow.

KAREN
You’re really gonna stay here all night?

TRIPP
That’s right.

KAREN
You meeting somebody here?

TRIPP
I don’t kiss and tell.

KAREN
God, why did you ask me to come down here, then?

TRIPP
You said you wanted to talk.

KAREN
I do, but . . .

TRIPP
Here’s neutral territory.

KAREN
This parking lot? It’s too creepy.

TRIPP
C’mon. That Clover Leaf liquor store’s still there.

KAREN
I know. I just passed it. Why? Oh no, Tripp. I can’t. I can hardly remember how to drive sober.

TRIPP
Like riding a bike. C’mon.

KAREN
Can we just . . . go to a diner?

TRIPP
Just split a liter with me. We can take it to the room. Talk.

KAREN
I can’t. How much have you had already?

TRIPP
Don’t you want this?

(He pulls out her cell phone and waves it playfully.)

TRIPP
You got, like, thirty messages on here, from this Marcy chick. Somebody’s reading Russian books in the john, and get this: you got a “shipment of bras.” Marcy’s words. Not mine. She sounds cute, though. Set me up, why don’t ya?

KAREN
Let me have it.

TRIPP
Come on. Come out and get it. What? You chicken?

KAREN
Tripp . . .

(She reluctantly steps out of the “car” and reaches for her phone. He still holds it away.)

KAREN
I don’t . . . feel like playing.

TRIPP
You scared of me? Scared to be alone with me?

KAREN
Why should I have to be scared of my own brother?

TRIPP
Okay, forget the room. We can go inside the bar. Nice and public. Iron out our deal.

KAREN
What deal?

TRIPP
The house. I figured it out. Instead of a super, y’all can have a caretaker.

KAREN
It’s not for me to—

TRIPP
Rich folks have caretakers that live in houses they don’t want to stay in anymore. Caretakers that live there alone.

KAREN
We’re not rich.

TRIPP
Not hurting, either. It’s gonna be your house one day, so I figure it’s fair if you pay the property tax. I know it can’t be that much. Plus, anything that needs replacing. Labor’s on me. That way I always have a place to live, like you said y’all wanted me to have. And I can feel like my own person, like you said y’all wanted me to feel.

KAREN
We can’t do this now.

TRIPP
You tell Mom and Dad. You tell ‘em that’s the deal.

KAREN
Please. Give me my phone.

(TRIPP holds the phone away.)

TRIPP
Come with me to the bar. Knock one back with your little bro. Just one. Seal the deal. You know. Good faith.

KAREN
No. No drinking.

TRIPP
You’re one to talk, gettin’ so toasted you let a guy knock you up on a friggin’ bridge in the middle of town! Did he at least pay a toll?

KAREN
Shut up!

TRIPP
Who are you to tell me I shouldn’t be drinkin’?

KAREN
Drink yourself into the grave for all I care! Please! God! You’ll never get any better than this, what you are right now, so why don’t you just die! Whenever I think of that pile of leaves, I think you should be under it, and how much nicer it’d be to come home, if you were, under it. I always think it’ll be nice to come home, even though I know it’ll be sad, because of what I left behind here. What I told you today, that you could only make jokes about! My heart! What might’ve—but still I always look forward to it, I do. I always do! And then I get here! Worry! That’s all it is! Worry and fear and threats and just . . . closing myself up in a little ball so I won’t take on the pain, or add to it for that matter. And Mom and Dad are so numb from all your troubles, they can’t even see me. Or hear me. I’m just supposed to clean the hard-to-reach areas and chauffeur people to the Piggly Wiggly! I live in New York City! I see amazing things everyday! I get comps to Broadway shows because I know people! I date famous men! Sometimes! Semi-famous, two of them! And what are you? What are you that all our energies should focus on you when I’m only here once every . . . I’m only here . . . I’m only . . .

(She can’t continue. TRIPP watches her.)

TRIPP
Those guys you dated. They famous enough I’d know ‘em?

KAREN
No, I don’t think . . . well, one of ‘em, maybe. I dunno, maybe two. Yeah, probably two.

TRIPP
C’mon in the bar. I wanna hear all about ‘em.

KAREN
I just told you I want you to die.

TRIPP
Yeah, but I’m not gonna. So, you might wanna get some liquid gumption in you. You’re buying.

KAREN
Tripp . . . I mean . . . it’s Dad’s car. I already got stopped once today. I got a warning.

TRIPP
A warning? What the hell’s a warning? Man, that’s discrimination. Guys never get warnings. We get full-on citations and fat-ass friggin’ fines.

(TRIPP opens the “car door.”)

TRIPP
C’mon, let’s go. No isn’t an answer.

(KAREN reluctantly shuts the “car” off. She steps out, takes her phone and starts to push a button.)

KAREN
Do you mind?

TRIPP
Go right ahead.

(KAREN listens to her messages as TRIPP leads her off.)

TRIPP
Warning. Yeah, I got your warning right here.

(Lights cross-fade to MELINDA, in a chair with an ornate box in her lap. MELINDA writes on a pad. PORTER enters carrying JIM’s Game Boy.)

PORTER
He taketh away. And he giveth. Worthless piece of junk.

MELINDA
He left it on my night table. Do you think it means something?

PORTER
Yeah. It means, on top of everything else, he’s a smart-ass. C’mon. Don’t do that now.

MELINDA
The officers said the sooner I do it . . .

PORTER
They meant tomorrow. Not five o’clock in the morning.

MELINDA
One gold tennis bracelet. Fourteen karat. Four gold chains. Varying lengths. Oh . . . One pearl necklace. Faux pearls. But beautiful. Perfect. Three pairs hoop earrings. Gold. Five pairs of studs. Two diamond. One emerald. One amethyst. One . . .
well . . . cubic zirconia . . . One silver broach, a dragon, with ruby eyes.

(pause)

Three gold bracelets. One braided. One chain. One band. White gold, the band.

PORTER
Plenty of time to do that in the morning.

MELINDA
One silver bracelet. Inscribed.

(to PORTER)

You can sleep now?

PORTER
Monday comes no matter what.

MELINDA
Even the loose change in the lazy Susan. But not the lazy Susan itself. Too heavy, I suppose. Awkward. Spinning.

(beat)

He came right in here. Must’ve stood right beside me. And I didn’t wake up. I used to hear his every move.

PORTER
Don’t do this to yourself.

MELINDA
You did this to us.

PORTER
I went a lot easier on him than he deserved. A cool reprimand, some reasonable conditions. Even a little healthy incentive.

MELINDA
He’s not an employee.

PORTER
I suppose he preferred your “hands-on” approach? I had a son. I had a son. I had a son. I had a son. I had a son.

(PORTER exits the spot.)

MELINDA
One gold choker. With a broken clasp. No. Why should I be so conscientious? No one else would. One gold choker. With clasp. No. Of course it has a clasp. Mentioning it would seem suspicious. One gold choker. Period.

(MELINDA remains seated in her spot, silently continuing her inventory. Lights cross-fade to an open area of the park. Not too much light, though. It’s night. ABRA enters. Her manic cheerfulness is almost grotesque. She takes her cell phone away from her ear and looks at it.)

ABRA
No signal. Eddie? Where’d you go?

EDDIE (off-stage)
Behind the john! It’s locked!

ABRA
You have serious bladder issues, my friend!

EDDIE (off-stage)
It hurts a little bit.

ABRA
I’m getting no signal out here! Maybe it’s just too dark. Who knows? Night changes everything. The river. The town. The sky. It’s like . . . people never realize they live so near to . . . such . . . you know, taking your breath away kind of thing. Clogging your signals kind of thing. Mysterious forces. We all do. We all live so near to night.

(beat)

Kid? You here?

(JIM suddenly steps out of the shadows.)

ABRA
Shit! You scared me.

(JIM pulls out the jewelry and pours it into ABRA’s open palms. She examines each piece one by one.)

ABRA
Awesome.

JIM
We should be more than square.

ABRA
Totally.

JIM
So, how much can I get for all this?

ABRA
I’ll let you know later.

JIM
What do you mean, later?

ABRA
When I see what it’s all worth. But you’re caught up with me, for sure. I’ll give you another half a gram now. Oh. Wait. This clasp is, like, all messed up.

JIM
What?

ABRA
Yeah, see? This one’s defective.

JIM
It’s still gold. Probably easy to fix.

ABRA
Tell you what. You can make up for it.

JIM
How?

(She starts to take something out of her shoulder bag.)

ABRA
Eddie was wondering . . .

EDDIE (off-stage)
Abra . . .

ABRA
Oh come on, babe. You were. Don’t be a wuss. Get ready.

(ABRA pulls out a wet nap, opens the packet and hands it to JIM.)

ABRA
Wipe your face.

(Confused, JIM complies, then holds his hand out.)

JIM
Give me the half.

(ABRA takes out a small bottle of mouthwash.)

ABRA
In a minute. Here. Use this.

EDDIE (off-stage)
He should brush!

ABRA
No. His gums could bleed.

(to JIM)

Go on. Gargle good.

(JIM complies, catching on.)

ABRA
Go on. I’ll keep a look-out.

(JIM disappears into the shadows behind the locked johns. EDDIE grunts and moans offstage.)

EDDIE (off-stage)
Don’t watch!

ABRA
I’m not!

(She totally is.)

ABRA
Wow, kid. You go.

EDDIE (off-stage)
Oh, man! Oh! Don’t watch, Abra! Ahhhh . . .

(JIM comes back out of the shadows. ABRA hands him another wet nap. He wipes his face.)

JIM
We square now?

ABRA
Totally. Thanks, kid. Here. For your troubles.

(She tosses JIM a baggie with the drug he’s been craving. JIM snatches it up greedily.)

JIM
When do I get the rest?

ABRA
Gimme a couple days. I’ll take care of you.

(She sets the bottle of mouthwash on the ground next to JIM.)

ABRA
C’mon, Eddie. I liked what I said before. About the night. Let’s go write a poem.

(ABRA exits. JIM holds out the baggie and spins with it, as with a lover. Lights remain on JIM and rise to half on MELINDA.)

MELINDA (off-stage)
Platinum. I had something platinum. Oh. Yes. Pinky ring. Gold anklet with star charms. What was I thinking? Turqoise ring and bracelet set. Mother. My birthstone. Various and sundry rings. Friendship bracelets. Baubles. Charms. Childish things. I put away . . .

(Lights fade.)

 

Scene Six

(Back at the bridge. Just before dawn. Headlights approach from the Illinois side, and a car is heard jerking to a stop. Two car doors are heard opening and closing. TRIPP and KAREN stagger on. They’re both smashed. They lean against the downstage railing.)

KAREN
I’m telling you, it was, like, a purring noise.

TRIPP
I don’t hear jack. Even the river’s, like, on mute.

KAREN
Lemme see. Pete had me, like . . .

(KAREN climbs partway up the railing and leans far out over the river. TRIPP moves forward to pull her back to safety, but hesitates. He takes a step back again and watches her in grim silence.)

Pete had me like this, and he was . . . and I heard . . .

TRIPP
You didn’t hear jack.

(She leans even further out.)

KAREN
I did. I do. I hear Jack and Jill, I’m telling you. Yeah. It’s, like, a buzzing, actually. Like a high-pitched buzzing . . . Like a phone pole.

TRIPP
Bullshit.

KAREN
Oh. Wait.

(KAREN shakes her head and puts her hands over her ears, letting go of the railing.)

KAREN
Oh God. I’m so wasted. My ears are, like, totally ringing.

TRIPP
Told ya.

KAREN
Shit. I’m dizzy.

(KAREN wobbles and starts to pitch backward over the railing. TRIPP grabs her by the arms. Her life is in his hands. They freeze, staring at one another for a long, naked moment.)

KAREN
Do you hate me?

(Suddenly, TRIPP whips one arm around behind her and pulls her to safety.)

TRIPP
You’re gonna heave. Shit. You better crash with me at the motel. I’m drivin’.

(KAREN takes deep breaths.)

KAREN
Shit. I’m gonna heave. I better crash at the motel.

TRIPP
I just said that.

KAREN
I can’t drive.

TRIPP
I just said I’m drivin’.

KAREN
Yeah. You. You do it. Can you do a U-ey on the bridge? You do a U-ey.

TRIPP
Man, you’re gonna be bowin’ to that porcelain God.

KAREN
Name in vain!

(TRIPP and KAREN exit toward Illinois. Sound of car doors opening and closing. Sound of the car starting. The headlights come on. Their beams scan the stage as the car does a U-turn. Just before they disappear, the light beams suddenly, shockingly reveal CORINTHIA, standing near the entrance from Illinois. Sound of the car swerving away. CORINTHIA strolls along the railing, smiling, serene. Not a hair out of place. She holds her balloon. JIM enters from the Indiana side. He’s flying high now, running and skipping along the railing. Not seeing CORINTHIA, he bumps into her and falls to the ground.)

JIM
What! What?

CORINTHIA
Shh . . .

(She tries to help him to his feet. He can’t get back up. She kneels and lets him rest his head across her lap. She brushes the hair from his forehead. JIM squirms under her caresses, but doesn’t try to escape.)

CORINTHIA
God is great. God is good. Let us thank him for our food.

JIM
What?

CORINTHIA
Oh no, that’s not right. Um . . . Oh, yeah. Now I lay me down to sleep—

JIM
What do you think you’re—

CORINTHIA
Shh . . . Hey, I sound like the river. Shh . . .

JIM
Who are you?

CORINTHIA
Don’t you remember?

JIM
What’s your name? I didn’t get your name?

CORINTHIA
Corinthia.

JIM
Like the column?

CORINTHIA
If you will.

JIM
Corinthia . . . you told me about another column. A column of swallows in the dawn sky.

CORINTHIA
You remember.

JIM
I think you were lying.

CORINTHIA
Was I?

(A purring noise grows louder and louder.)

JIM
What is that? What’s that sound?

CORINTHIA
Shh . . . They’re sleeping. Their last moments of sleep before the new day.

JIM
Who?

CORINTHIA
The swallows, of course.

JIM
Why are they making that sound?

CORINTHIA
Perhaps they’re dreaming.

JIM
I dream, too. I dream about flying. But I wake up, and remember I can’t. The birds. When they wake up, they can still fly. I think they must dream about something better than flying. Something even they can’t do in real life. Something we can’t even imagine. At least, I hope that’s what they dream. It’s what dreams are for.

CORINTHIA
One of the things.

JIM
Wait a minute. I know who you are. You’re her.

CORINTHIA
Who?

JIM
Yeah. You’re her.

CORINTHIA
I don’t know what you—

JIM
And 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 gotta remember that. Spiral. But now you’re in the light, bright room, you can’t even see the walls at first. And she calls you to the window . . .

(He suddenly stops and stares at her.)

JIM
Do you love me?

(beat)

CORINTHIA
Dearie.

(She hands him her balloon. He grips the string tightly.)

JIM
See? It is. It’s genius.

(JIM is quiet now. He lies on her lap, smiling, peaceful. She strokes him tenderly until he falls fast asleep. The purring sound grows louder and more fitful. Sounds of individual chirps and caws creep in. The moon disappears. The sky grows paler, brighter, then deepens into a gorgeous magenta dawn. The purring is now a thunderous chatter. An enormous swirl of shadows appears against the sky, spiraling upward from beneath the bridge. Light bathes CORINTHIA’s face as she watches the shadows float skyward. JIM’s hand falls open, releasing the balloon. CORINTHIA catches the string and holds it down to earth as the balloon strains upward, desperate to join the rising shadows. Lights fade. THE END.)   

  Act One  

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   Contributor’s notes
   Introduction
   Author's Commentary
   Director's Commentary
   Playbill

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