Quote on Hopper

"They are like characters whose parts have deserted them and now, trapped in the space of their waiting, must keep themselves company."
-Mark Strand, on the people in Hopper's paintings.

Sea Watchers
By Joe Janes
First draft 5/2/08

CAST:
MARY – upper 40’s
STANLEY – upper 40’s

(Lights up on a middle-aged couple sitting on a bench outside a small white cabin on the beach. Everything is very plain. Their deck is unadorned except for the simple bench to the right of the door and nearly to the right edge of the deck. We can hear the ocean and the wind. It is a sunny day. Mary is in a simple black two-piece swimsuit and wears a white rubber swim cap with a chinstrap. Stanley is in a simple pair of black swimming trunks. They are barefoot. He is leaning forward. She is sitting back with her legs crossed. Their expressions are very blank. For a very long time, they both stare out at the water. He looks at her and then back out at the water. She looks at him and then back out at the water. A seagull is heard flying over and they watch it. They look back out at the water after it passes. Stanley stands and slowly walks towards the edge of the deck. This has caught Mary’s attention. He stands for a moment looking out at the ocean. He looks both ways down the vacant beach. He looks back out at the water. He quickly walks back into the cabin. Mary sits stunned. A moment later, Stanley emerges from the cabin with a stack of white, folded towels. He places them on the bench where he sat. Satisfied with himself, he then walks back to where he was at the edge of the deck and again looks out. Overcome with emotion, he sits down on the edge and looks as though he is about to cry. Mary slowly walks over and sits next to him.)

MARY
They were only trying to be nice.

(Stanley shakes his head as he fights off tears.)

MARY
They thought we would like it. That it would help us…relax. It was a thoughtful gift. Really.
(Stanley has successfully swallowed his tears and turned them to anger.)

STANLEY
You don’t give a vacation as a present. That’s not a present. A hat is a present. A tie is a present. “Here, let me buy you dinner, ya’ big lug” – that’s a present. This. This is a two-week prison sentence. Our children have thrown us in a jail cell with sand walls and a seagull for a warden.

MARY
We don’t have to stay, Stanley. I can tell them I got sick. I ate a bad clam.

STANLEY
Why would they do this to us? What have we done?

MARY
They like this sort of thing.

STANLEY
I want my basement, Mary. I miss my basement. I was going to fix the sump pump this week.

MARY
I know. I know. I was going to read my books.

STANLEY
At least you can do that here.

MARY
(looking around) No. No, I can’t.

(They sit in silence for a moment. She puts her chin on his shoulder.)

MARY
It has only been one day.

STANLEY
I don’t need to be repeatedly struck in the testicles with a ball peen hammer, Mary, to know that I don’t like it. Once is plenty.

(Mary gets up and heads towards the cabin door.)

MARY
I’ll go pack our things. They’ll buy the clam story. They’re always nice when I’m sick.

STANLEY
No, Mary. No. We tell them the truth. The absolute truth. (He stands) Otherwise, they’ll try this shenanigan, again. We sit them down and we say, “Chuck. Violet. We know you mean well, but if you really want to give your old man and mother a vacation, leave us be at home. Don’t call on us for a week. We’ll be more relaxed and you’ll save your money.” By, golly, that’s what we should do. (He sits on the bench.)

(Mary moves the towels and sits down next to him on the now crowded bench.)

MARY
You’re right, Stanley. They need to stop trying to make our lives better. We should be honest.

STANLEY
And direct.

MARY
Honest and direct. They’re adults, now.

STANLEY
Yes, they are.

(They continue sitting. Looking out towards the water. Drifting into their own worlds. A seagull flies overhead and they watch it fly by. They look at each other and then back out at the water. Lights fade as the sound of the surf and the seagulls gets louder.)

Miss Mary (REVISION)

Miss Mary (Revised Draft)
By David Dastmalchian
Winter, 2007 (Revision February 2008)
Edward Hopper (WNEP)


(MARY is frenetically straightening, arranging then rearranging things throughout the tiny apartment. The layout of the apartment is simple – A narrow day bed rests against the SR wall, a radiator UC. The only entrance to the space is the front door UL. The SL area is occupied by a kitchenette, wooden chair and a mirror.
There are several bottles of gin stashed about the place and she continues to liberally fill and refill her glass throughout the scene.
Mary lights a flame on the stove top and starts a pot of coffee.
She brings her face very close to the burner – so close that her cheek reddens and begins to sweat. Just before the skin might blister, she rushes to the window SR – opens it – and thrusts her head outside, taking in a desperate gasp of fresh, cool air. This enlivens her and she begins to hum a sweet little song.
She sashays across the room, as if parading before throngs of ogling admirers - then stops in front of the short, free-standing mirror SL. She bends at the waist and leans in to inspect something.
A sudden, rapid knocking at the door jolts her)

MARY: Is it you?

MILES: (Off) Of course.

(She unlocks many locks, opens the door. MILES enters – under his arm he carries a medium box wrapped in brown paper and tied up with string. His hand is bleeding. Upon his entrance and throughout, he remains within a small playing space – between the door and the kitchenette)

MARY: I didn’t know if you’d come – what happened to your hand?

MILES: Why wouldn’t I?

MARY: I just. Well. I don’t know, I suppose – do you need a bandage?

MILES: You don’t know?

MARY: I suppose. You should clean it out.

MILES: I told you when I’d come. The day, the time, the hour. And here it is.

MARY: I have some clean strips of linen. I decided if I was going to spend so much time in these close quarters, I’d better keep it tidy. Would you like a drink?

MILES: (Shakes his head “no”) - You were hoping I wasn’t coming, I bet.

MARY: I’ve been waiting so long. After a few days I began to think it had been a week and when two weeks went by I felt as if a whole month had passed and I realized that I hadn’t turned any of the pages on my wall calendar there and – oh, my…

MILES: Relax.

MARY: I. Seem to be…

(She rushes to the window SR and throws her head outside for a gulp of fresh air)

MILES: I’m here now.

MARY: Your hand. I can help you. Here.

(She ushers him to the chair SL. He adjusts the chair into a precise position beside the kitchenette and sits down.
Mary takes some strips of linen from beneath the sink and fills a small pitcher with water)

MARY: Here we are…

(She slowly, carefully washes and dresses the wound on Mile’s hand)

MILES: You have your father’s hands. And his arms. Skinny little arms. Like a bird.

MARY: How did this happen?

MILES: There was a broken beer bottle lying on the sidewalk. Outside.

MARY: How did you cut your hand on it?

MILES: People throw their bottles and newspapers, cigarettes and everything else on the ground. I can’t stand the sight of it. So I pick it up. One of these days we’ll open our doors and we’ll all be up to our necks in broken bottles of glass and cigarette butts and everything else.

MARY: Does that feel better?

(She finishes dressing the wound)

MILES: They keep saying the bottom’s about to fall out.

MARY: Would you like some coffee?

MILES: Nobody likes to think about the future. Nobody wants to think about where it all goes. It all piles up somewhere out of sight - the bottles and papers and cans. But that somewhere isn’t going to be out of sight forever.

MARY: Are you going to have a cup of coffee or aren’t you?

MILES: You can pour me a cup. Set it beside the window there to cool.

(She pours the cup slowly and holds it out towards him)

MARY: What’s inside of that package?

(He points to the cup)

MILES: Beside the window.

MARY: Do you take any sugar?

MILES: Set it down, Mary.

MARY: I’ve got some sugar just up –

MILES: Set down that cup.

(She turns on him, wielding the hot coffee threateningly)

MARY: Tell me what you’re gonna do to me! I did everything you said! I did everything right – just like you told me. Now you’ve gotta leave me be –

MILES: Mary.

MARY: I did everything the way you told me…

MILES: I know you did.

(He places his hand over the cup, steadying her shaking hand until she begins to calm)

MARY: I did everything right.

MILES: I knew you would.

(Mary rests the cup on the window sill SL. She goes to the window SR and takes a deep breath)

MARY: What’s inside of that package?

MILES: A present.

MARY: For whom?

MILES: Where are the letters?

(She reaches beneath the bed and pulls out a medium brown box. There are countless old letters jutting out from the box. The flame on the stove continues to burn, sending steam out of the coffee pot)

MARY: I spent so much time in this room lately. I don’t think I’ve ever been in one, singular place so much, for so long, in my entire lifetime. Just like you told me – only went to the little market on the corner for groceries and cigarettes and some magazines.

MILES: I know. (Indicating the box of letters) You read each and every one?

MARY: Yes.

MILES: That’s good.

MARY: You’d think a person might go crazy cooped up in a room with nothing to do, no one to talk to.

MILES: I believe my father would have agreed with you.

MARY: Yes, well… (As if remembering the punch line to some long-forgotten joke, she lets out a small, innocent laugh) I wrote little songs. Little tunes. To pass the time. I’ve never had a drop of musical ability my entire life. But one afternoon - sitting right over there, looking out that window – I wrote the funniest little songs.

MILES: What kind of songs?

MARY: Well. I suppose they were…

MILES: Yes?

MARY: (Shyly) …naughty little songs.

MILES: May I hear one?

MARY: If you’ll tell me what’s inside of that box.

MILES: …Fair. But the song first.

(She refills her glass of gin then searches for a place to perform her song)

MARY: It’s very silly. The first song that came in my mind. I was just sitting at the window, watching a little girl on a bicycle going around and around in a circle down there, right in the middle of the street. Her bicycle had a little bell and she rang that bell each time she finished another circle. And I thought to myself – that little girl doesn’t believe she’s riding a bicycle. No sir. Because I remember how it is to be ten years old and to ride a bicycle when you haven’t got a care in the world. That pretty little girl’s commanding a steam boat. She’s steering a great big steamboat up and down the Mississippi and that bell she keeps ringing is her steamboat’s bell. …. (Singing) Miss Mary had a steamboat, the steamboat had a bell….Miss Mary went to heaven, the steamboat went to…

MILES: ….Hell?

MARY: (laughs) No! – that’s what you’re supposed to think. But it’s not, see? “…the steamboat went to…Hell-l-l-o operator, give me number nine….and if you disconnect me…I’ll kick you from behind!

(They both laugh out loud)

MILES: I’ll kick you from behind -

MARY: - The ‘frigerator…there was a piece of glass…Miss Mary sat upon it – it stuck right in…

MILES: It stuck right in her ass!

(Laughter. Beat)

MARY: What’s in that package?

MILES: A present. For my niece. It’s her birthday tomorrow.

MARY: I bet it’s something nice.

MILES: It’s a wooden doll. And when you open the wooden doll, there’s another wooden doll inside of her. And inside of her, there’s another, and so on. By the time she’s finished taking them apart, there’s eight dolls.

MARY: That is nice. What’s your niece’s name?

MILES: Susan. But we call her Suzie.

MARY: Miss Suzie. That’s a pretty name.

MILES: My sister named her after our mother. Of course, Mother never got to know that.

MARY: Miles? Are you going to let me go?

MILES: I can’t.

MARY: I could run to that window right now. I can start screaming your name. They’d know what you did –

MILES: I haven’t done anything.

MARY: I’ll tell them everything.

MILES: Will you?

MARY: Yes I will.

MILES: Everything?

(Mary goes to the open window DR and sticks her head outside. She just sits there, leaning out the window)

MARY: It was my father. Not me. Not my mother.

MILES: You and your mother enjoyed every luxury that money could buy. (He takes a letter from the box and hands it to her) Read. Aloud.

MARY: “…You gave your wife and daughter a kingdom while my father sat in prison, while they auctioned off our home, our clothes.”

MILES: - Our bicycles.

MARY: But I didn’t know about any of that – I was just a little girl.

MILES: Our fathers were more than business partners, Mary. They were friends.

MARY: I know.

MILES: Not only did your father betray mine in business –

MARY: Miles –

MILES: He betrayed him in friendship.

MARY: Please –

MILES: In family. Keep reading.

MARY: “…We were left to rot while you thrived. Spoiled your family while we starved…” I’m sorry.

MILES: Read.

MARY: “When my mother and sister and I were taken from our home. After it all finally choked father’s heart to death and mother was left begging old friends to give him a funeral – It’s what finally killed her, too.” I just didn’t know.

MILES: The last time we went to visit my father, he turned us away. He was too ashamed to face us.

MARY: (Beat) I was there the night my father died. Did you know that? He’d locked himself up in his office and mother and I went down there to talk to him. He’d been receiving the letters for months. Every day – sometimes twice a day, but he wouldn’t let anyone else see them. Mother thought they were threats from some scorned lover he’d wronged. Some angry young girl from the secretary pool. Anonymous letters. We were on our way up in the elevator when he leapt from the window.

MILES: Did you see him?

MARY: After. (Pause) You must have writ so many letters…

MILES: Eighty-seven of them.

MARY: Mother never showed them to the police or the lawyers. She just sat there with a pile of them on her bed. She read each one like another chapter to a book. Telling the story of what he’d done.

MILES: When you saw him lying there… Did you see your father’s face?

MARY: (Shudders and nods) Does it make it even?

MILES: When we went to claim my father’s body, they had covered his head with a black cloth. Apparently the capillaries in his face had burst so grotesquely that his cheeks and eyes were swollen and violet.

(Mary finds her glass of gin and gulps it down. She tries to move flirtatiously across the room)

MARY: Do you want to hear another song?

MILES: No. I like the one you sang before.

MARY: Miss…Mary had a steamboat…that steamboat had a bell…Miss Mary went to heaven….the steamboat…….

(Miles has reached into his suit pocket and withdraws what appears to be a tightly folded pouch. He shakes it out, unfurling a mask… A black cloth mask, very simple, with precise holes for the eyes and mouth)

MARY: What’s that?

MILES: Try it on.

MARY: I don’t want to.

MILES: I’d like to see how it looks. On you.

MARY: No.

MILES: Put it on and it’s all over.

MARY: Why?

MILES: I want you to see how it looks.

MARY: I’m dying for a cigarette.

(Miles takes a pack from his pocket)

MILES: Put it on and you can have one.

MARY: Fair. But only for a moment.

(Miles nods. He gently turns her around so that she’s facing the mirror. He places the mask over her head and secures it. They stand looking in the mirror for a long moment. Reaching a hand around her face, he places the cigarette in her mouth. He lights it for her. She takes a deep inhale.
He grasps her neck and chokes her viciously.
Her body finally goes limp, draped over the back of the chair. A puff of smoke escapes her lips.

Miles begins humming the tune of Mary’s song.
He takes one of the gin bottles and pours a stream of gin between Mary’s body and the oven.
He shovels the box of letters inside the oven.
He holds one of the letters above the stove burners, igniting it, then tosses the burning letter onto the pile inside of the stove.

He removes the mask from Mary’s face and folds it up very tightly – then hides it in his pocket.
He exits the room as the flames continue to grow over the kitchenette)





THE END

Nighthawks

(I'm picturing this going at the end of the evening as the last piece. Or something like it.)


NIGHTHAWKS – Draft #2 Michael Brownlee

AT RISE: You know the setting. We see a Gentleman, with his back to the audience, sitting at the counter. The Waiter is wiping things down. The Woman in Red is seated in the corner, finishing a cigarette. Ed enters from the audience, pausing to look over the scene before him. He enters the diner and slowly looks around. He slightly repositions a salt shaker or a napkin dispenser. When everything is just the way he wants it, he sits down next to the Woman in Red.

WOMAN: Everything all right?

ED: Yeah, I think so.

(He motions to the waiter who brings them each a cup of coffee. They each take a sip. Ed raises his head as if he is about to say something, but stops. They sit in silence as the lights slowly fade to black.)

THE END.

Nighthawks

(Lights up on a diner in Greenwich Village, early Fall, 1942. It is one in the morning. There are three customers and a one man behind the counter. RITA, a 43 year old redhead, sits alone at one end of the counter. CAL, 41, in a suit, tie and hat, is a few seats down. They are both drinking coffee. A MAN in his 50’s and wearing a suit and hat, sits with his back towards the audience. He is drinking coffee and eating a piece of pie. The ATTENDANT, in his 30’s, quietly cleans up around the diner. There are a few moments of silence during which RITA catches CAL’s eye. RITA becomes aware that CAL is looking at her.)

CAL

I couldn’t help but notice that you’re sitting alone here.

RITA
Oh you couldn’t. You’re very observant. You with the FBI or somethin’?

(CAL grins and blushes. Pause.)

CAL
You married?

RITA
I was.

CAL
Me too, once. What happened?

RITA
That’s kind of a personal question to ask a stranger, don’t ya think?

CAL
Hey, ya gotta break the ice somehow.

(He moves over a few seats and sits next to her.)

CAL
So what happened?

RITA
Well, one night, he got real angry and he put his hand to me. (pause) So I beat him black and blue.

(CAL is surprised and laughs.)

CAL
That true?

RITA
You’re definitely not with the FBI. You’re way too gullible. No, he lammed off with my sister Suzanne. The bastard.

CAL
Always blame the man. You didn’t give your sister an earful?

RITA
How could I? They skipped town before I even found out about them!

(CAL laughs again.)

RITA
Yeah, funny to you. You’re not the one stuck with all his dirty laundry.

CAL
What, gambling? Was he a dope fiend?

RITA
No, I literally mean his dirty laundry. I have mountain of socks and underwear sittin’ in a corner that I haven’t touch since the day he left.

CAL
And when was that?

RITA
Two weeks ago.

CAL
Awe, I’m sorry to hear that. That’s rough.

RITA
Thanks.

CAL
So what are you doing here all alone this time of night? Were you out with your girlfriends or something?

RITA
Naw. I had a date.

CAL
A date?

RITA
Yeah. Right after Hank left, I went to see a lawyer about gettin' the divorce papers. Nice enough fella. Makes some dough, bein’ a lawyer. So he asked me out and I said “ok”.

CAL
So you were out with the lawyer?

RITA
Yeah. It was goin’ ok, but then after dinner, he starts puttin’ his mitts all over me, so I give him a kiss with my knuckles. For real, this time. He dumped me in front of my place but I was so wound up, there was no way I could get to sleep. So I came here to, you know, calm down.

CAL
Seems reasonable.

(RITA looks hard at CAL, trying to work something out in her head.)

RITA
There’s somethin’ funny about you.

CAL
Funny? How funny?

RITA
You seem familiar. I’ve seen you before, haven’t I? Maybe your picture somewhere? What’s your name?

CAL
Cal.

RITA
Cal. Cal what.

CAL
Bergman.

RITA
Cal Bergman. (She thinks.) Yeah, hey! I know you. You used to be a baseball player. Red Sox, right? And the Dodgers for a bit too.

(CAL smiles.)

CAL
That’s right.

RITA
My husband was a big Red Sox fan. He was from Boston. You were on that quiz show a bunch of times too, right? What was the name of that show?

CAL
Answer Please.

RITA
That’s it, Answer Please. You were somethin’ on the show. What was it that you speak, six languages?

CAL
Seven.

RITA
And you always knew all the answers about geography and politics. You were a real wise head.

(CAL blushes.)

CAL
Thanks.

RITA
Boy, if Hank knew I was here with you, he’d be so jealous. Cal Bergman. Now what are you doin’ in a dive like this, so late at night? Shouldn’t you be out at home hot club?
CAL
Naw. My buddies were gonna take me for a night out on the town – it’s my last night in New York - but I told ‘em I’d rather just sit somewhere by myself and have a coffee.

RITA
What did they say to that?

CAL
Nothing. They went out on the town anyway.

RITA
And you stopped here for a cup of joe.

CAL
Yeah.

RITA
So where you goin’?

CAL
Well...(He looks around the diner to make sure that no one is listening. He lowers his voice a bit and leans towards RITA.) About a month ago, I got called up by the OSS.

RITA
What’s the OSS?

CAL
The Office of Strategic Services.

RITA
Sounds kinda...stiff. Ya know, “strategic”. That some sorta government job?

(CAL nods.)

CAL
It’s an intelligence agency.

RITA
Intelligence, huh? Well, that would be you.

CAL
No, I mean...(He looks around again.) Information.

RITA
Oh! Information. So you are with the FBI.

CAL
No, no. I mean...yeah. Sort of. But it’s like international intelligence. For the war.

RITA
You mean like a spy?

(CAL lowers his voice a bit and leans towards RITA.)

CAL
They’re dropping me into Yugoslavia. I am supposed to rendezvous with some scientists who are Allied sympathizers. They’re going to give me information on some of the projects that the Nazis have been working on.

RITA
”Rendezvous”. Sounds like somethin’ out of a book somewhere. I never “rendezvoused” with anyone before. (Pause. She thinks.) Say, you’re kiddin’ me aren’t you? Droppin’ into some foreign country to get the goods on the krauts’ plans?

(CAL holds up his right arm, palm facing out, and closes his eyes.)

CAL
I swear to all that is holy and good, that is the complete and utter truth.

RITA
You don’t need to swear to all that. I believe you. (Slight pause. She drinks her coffee.) There are a lotta crazy things happenin’ in this world. Why wouldn’t you be workin’ some sorta secret mission. (Pause.) So this really is your last night in New York, huh?

CAL
It is, sadly.

RITA
Sadly? Boy, I’d give anythin’ to get outta this city. And here you’re goin’ off to see the world, and on the government’s dime no less. (She lowers her voice and leans into CAL.) And you’ll be on a secret mission.

(CAL smiles. RITA smiles back.)

CAL
I never asked your name.

RITA
Rita. Rita McAvoy.

CAL
Rita. I think I’ve had enough coffee for the night. What’d’ya say we catch up with my friends and paint the town red.

RITA
I thought you’d never ask.

(She pushes her coffee cup away from her. CAL catches the ATTENDANT’s eye.)

CAL
Hey. Check please.

ATTENDANT
Five cents.

CAL
Put her on there too, will ya?

ATTENDANT
That would be ten.

(CAL gets out his wallet and puts a quarter on the counter.)

CAL
(To RITA) Come on, let’s get outta here.

RITA
Yes sir!

(CAL and RITA get up from their seats. As they exit the diner, the MAN finishes his pie and coffee. The ATTENDANT takes note.)

ATTENDANT
Anything else for you sir?

MAN
(In a German accent.) No, that’s all.

(The ATTENDANT clears the dishes.)

ATTENDANT
Thirty cents.

(The MAN He takes out his wallet and leaves a five dollar bill. He stands up to leave.)

MAN
(in German) Danke schöen. Sie haben sehr behilflich gewesen.

(He tips his hat and exits.)

End of Scene

The Barber Shop (2nd draft)

(Lights up on a barber shop in New York’s Little Italy, 1931. It is 11:40 a.m. on a Monday morning. The shop is quiet. GIUSEPPE, the barber, is 49. He straightens things up around the shop, trying to keep busy. ROSA, the manicurist is 42. She sits at a small table and idly reads an Italian-language newspaper. Both GIUSEPPE and ROSA have retained a trace of their accents.)

ROSA
Any customers today, you think?

GIUSEPPE
You ask that every day. Why do you ask that?

ROSA
Times are hard.

GIUSEPPE
Yes, but people still have to get their hair cut. And some ladies, their nails done.

ROSA
Francesca Callamini cuts her husband’s hair at home. She says she don’t know why anyone would spend good money on a haircut.

GIUSEPPE
They spend good money on a haircut so they don’t end up looking like Fracnesca Callamini’s husband!

(ROSA stifles a laugh.)

ROSA
You know what day it is?

GIUSEPPE
Of course I know what day it is. It’s Monday.

ROSA
Yes, but do you know the date.

GIUSEPPE
(Impatiently) Yes. You think I forget these things, but I don’t.

ROSA
Did you go and visit?

GIUSEPPE
I will after work.

ROSA
Always leaving things to the last minute.

GIUSEPPE
He’s not going anywhere.

ROSA
(Shocked) Such a thing to say!

GIUSEPPE
Spiacente. I was not thinking.

ROSA
Such a thing to say.

GIUSEPPE
I’m sorry!

(Pause.)

GIUSEPPE
Did you visit?

ROSA
I will go after work.

GIUSEPPE
Ah ha! Now who is not thinking?!

ROSA
I went to church this morning! I did not have time.

GIUSEPPE
And I did?

ROSA
You never go to church.

(GIUSEPPE is amused, but quickly returns to a somber mood.)

GIUSEPPE
Did Giorgio go with you to church this morning?

(ROSA scoffs.)

ROSA
He was still asleep when I left the house.

GIUSEPPE
He should have gone with you.

ROSA
I cannot control what he does.

GIUSEPPE
He should have known to go with you. On today of all days.

ROSA
He was sleeping.

GIUSEPPE
Was he out drinking?

ROSA
That is not your business.

GIUSEPPE
It is my business if he hurts you.

ROSA
He does not hurt me. He does not touch me. He is a good man.

GIUSEPPE
But he did not go to church with you.

ROSA
You keep your big nose out. Go back to sweeping your floor.

(A bell on the door rings and GEORGIO, 43, enters. ROSA and GIUSEPPE look as GEORGIO bounds in.)

GIUSEPPE
Speak of the devil.

(He goes back to cleaning his station.

GEORGIO
Buona mattina!

(GEORGIO kisses ROSA on the cheek.)

GEORGIO
My beautiful wife. And there he is, my handsome, brooding brother.

GIUSEPPE
Good morning, Georgio.

GEORGIO
Good morning!

(GEORGIO sits down in the barber’s chair.)

GEORGIO
Giuseppe, I want the works.

GIUSEPPE
Oh you do?

GEORGIO
Si. I want to be treated like a king. I want a shave and a haircut and a little trim of the mustache.

ROSA
Would you like me to work on your nails too?

GEORGIO
Sure. Why not.

(GIUSEPPE and ROSA look at one another, confused. GIUSEPPE sets about giving GEORGIO and haircut and shave. ROSA moves her table next to the barber’s chair and begins working on GEORGIO’s nails.)

ROSA
So what brings you to the shop, mio amore? And what has put you into such a mood?

GEORGIO
Rosa, I am going to get a job.

ROSA
A job!

GEORGIO
Yes. You remember Carlo Palatino? He used to work at the garage?

ROSA
Yes. I remember.

GEORGIO
I ran into him at Luccio’s last night.

ROSA
Is that where you were.

GEORGIO
Listen to her, Giuseppe. As if she does not where I am at every hour of the day.

ROSA
I don’t!

GEORGIO
Anyway, Carlo Palatino.

GIUSEPPE
Yes.

GEORGIO
I run into him at Luccio’s. I buy him a few drinks and then he tells me, he tells me how he just got this job working at the MTA fixing up train cars. And he says to me, “Georgie”. He calls me Georgie, remember? “Georgie,” he tells me, “I’ve got it made.” Then he tells me about how they’re looking for a few more guys to round out their crew, and that I’d be perfect.

ROSA
But Georgio, you don’t know how to fix train cars.

GEORGIO
Doesn’t matter. They’ll teach me everything I need to know. And then the money will be flowing!

GIUSEPPE
Congratulations, Georgio. This is very good news. When do you start?

GEORGIO
First I have to go down to the MTA garage and talk to the manager. That will be easy. Carlo is putting a good word in for me. I’ll probably starting work next week.

ROSA
That is wonderful. I am very proud of you.

GEORGIO
I tell you, Giuseppe, it feels so good to have a job again.

GIUSEPPE
Papa always said that a man without a job is no man at all.

GEORGIO
Well, Papa would be proud today.

ROSA
Yes, dear. I know he would be.

GEORGIO
What is it today? Tuesday? Carlo said to see the manager on Wednesday.

GIUSEPPE
It is Monday. The 23rd.

GEORGIO
Monday the 23rd. A day to remember, eh Rosa? Monday the 23rd of...

(He suddenly recalls something. He sits up and looks at ROSA.)

GEORGIO
Oh, Rosa. I’m so sorry.
(ROSA looks at him, holding back tears.)

ROSA
It’s ok.

GEORGIO
I can’t believe I...Rosa...I am so...

(GEORGIO is overwhelmed with emotion. GIUSEPPE moves away from GEORGIO and ROSA. GEORGIO kisses ROSA.)

ROSA
It’s ok.

GEORGIO
No. No, it’s not. I will go right out and get flowers. A wreath. A big wreath of flowers. Red ones. Paulie always liked red flowers.

(GEORGIO stands up. He searches his pockets for money.)

GEORGIO
The biggest wreath of red flowers anyone can buy.

(He finds no money in his pockets and then he looks helplessly at ROSA. ROSA goes to her purse, gets some bills and gives them to GEORGIO.)

GEORGIO
I’ll have Delmontico’s deliver a big wreath.

ROSA
Ok.

GEORGIO
I’m sorry, Rosa.

(ROSA nods, not looking at him. GEORGIO acknowledges GIUSEPPE. The bell on the front door rings as GEORGIO exits. ROSA returns her table back to its original position from the beginning of the scene.)

GIUSEPPE
You had to give him money for a wreath?

ROSA
What was I supposed to do.
GIUSEPPE
He didn’t have enough money to buy some flowers for his own son’s grave?

ROSA
You know he never has any money.

GIUSEPPE
He has money. He just spends it at Luccio’s booze hall.

ROSA
Such a thing to say! About your brother.

GIUSEPPE
But it’s true. If he had not spent so much on drink, he might have saved Paulie in the first place.

ROSA
How? Millions were dying. Everyone was sick. How could he have stopped it?

GIUSEPPE
By getting a doctor?

ROSA
He didn’t have any money.

GIUSEPPE
He never has any money!

ROSA
Then why didn’t you get a doctor?


GIUSEPPE
It was not my place.


ROSA
But Paulie was yours!

GIUSEPPE
Ours!

ROSA
Yes. (Pause.) What were we supposed to do?

GIUSEPPE
I don’t know. Nothing. There was nothing that we could do.

ROSA
Such a thing to say.

(There is a long pause.)
GIUSEPPE
Would you like to go visit the cemetery with me, after work?

ROSA
Yes. I would.

GIUSEPPE
Ok.

(GIUSEPPE turns to his station and begins cleaning up. ROSA goes back to reading her newspaper. Lights out. End of scene.)

New York Movie (Third draft)

(We see a female usher standing by the red curtain leading up to the cinema balcony. She is lost in thought, slightly frowning. She is the CITY SISTER. The conversation that follows is a recorded telephone conversation between her and her COUNTRY SISTER. On the movie screen are trailers showing images similar to those being narrated by CITY to COUNTRY with an occasional title in bold across the screen such as ROMANCE…INTRIGUE…SUSPENSE.)

CITY
The storm gathers…

(A young man pulls apart the red curtain. He shows the CITY SISTER his ticket. She uses her flashlight and confirms his seat is on the balcony.)

...and the wind blew his balcony door wide open, catching the lampshade knocking it over. The rain speckles my blouse. I look at his eyes wet with rain. He seemed handsomer than ever.

(CITY’S telephone story pauses. In the movie house, The young man thanks CITY. She steps forward just past him and looks at the trailer. The trailer has an image of a woman holding a telephone looking concerned. The young man in the movie house lingers for a moment hoping for another smile, a wink, something, but CITY is lost in the images on the movie screen.)

COUNTRY
Did you kiss?

CITY
Yes...

COUNTRY
And.....?

CITY
His tongue was a typewriter

COUNTRY
Oh my!

CITY
Every kiss... a quick keystroke. Birdlike. Amateur.

COUNTRY
Listen to you?!

CITY
What?

COUNTRY
Amateur? You would prefer a professional?

CITY
A professional kisser…yes.

(They laugh)

CITY
Stop interrupting. So his amateur lips are moving across my face and my neck. His attentions are intoxicating. I’m feeling drunk from all the affection till I feel a little prick

COUNTRY
Stop! Right! Now!

CITY
No, no, no! It’s his teeth

COUNTRY
His teeth?

CITY
He starts biting me.

COUNTRY
That’s too much

CITY
I don't know...I...ah…I sort of liked it.

COUNTRY
No you didn't. Noooo....Nonononono

CITY
Yes. I did. (Laughs a little evil joyful laugh at her sister's reaction). So now I can feel his teeth and his tongue and his hairy arms. He’s biting and begging and I’m blinded by the moonlight and the stormy sky. Then one by one he bites the buttons off my dress and…

COUNTRY
Tell me you didn’t!?!!

(CITY sister laughs)

COUNTRY
You didn’t????

CITY
I wish I could see your face.

COUNTRY
(A touch upset now)I can never tell when your lying or telling the truth.

CITY
You never could.

COUNTRY
Well, if you didn’t…then what did happen?

(The young man goes back to his seat.)

CITY
Nothing

COUNTRY
He didn’t try anything more forward?

(Pause in conversation. The Usherette moves toward the baroque wooden carved column and looks sadly and longingly at the movie screen.)

CITY
There wasn’t even a he?

COUNTRY
Wait? What?

(In the movie house, a man seated suddenly turns around and looks at CITY, She doesn’t take notice. After a beat he turns back around to watch the trailers.)

CITY
There wasn’t a date

COUNTRY
But

CITY
Don’t be so gullible. It didn’t happen. None of it

COUNTRY
It was so detailed. It sounded so…

CITY
I stole it. It happened to Jane Greer in last week’s picture


COUNTRY
You aren’t seeing anyone at all?

CITY
Sure. Last week I was out with Robert Mitchum every night. The week before that I was painting the town red with Dick Powell, and then it was George Raft…

COUNTRY
When are you going to abandon these ridiculous fantasies?

CITY
Sis…

COUNTRY
There are plenty of boy’s left here. If you came home there’d be ample time to meet someone and fall in love

CITY
Hitch up with some corn fed cattle puncher?

COUNTRY
I don’t understand you

CITY
That’s not the answer. Not for me

(A young girl gets up out of her seat, she is visibly upset possibly crying. The dark browed man seated next to her turns around and follows her with his eyes.)

COUNTRY
Come home, please!

CITY
I am home.

COUNTRY
No! You know what I mean

CITY
I’m happier here OK? I know you don’t believe that, but I’m where I belong.

COUNTRY
I worry about you alone up there without any family around you. We hear horror stories about single girls in the big cities.

(The trailer shows a young woman fleeing a man in a trench coat through a city street at night.)

CITY
I should come home to avoid a horror story? That's ridiculous. If you think your world is any less horrible than mine, you need to open your eyes!

(The dark browed man gets up and follows the girl who just left. He appears to be hiding something in his coat. He pauses behind the usherette for a moment, possibly to say something to her, but thinks better of it and leaves in pursuit of the girl.)

COUNTRY
I think you’ve lost all hope.

CITY
Wrong. I’ve just brought self delusion to a near stand still.

COUNTRY
So, now I’m deluded? You’re the one with all the fantasy talk.

CITY
Let’s forget it

COUNTRY
When does it end…after you’ve lost your looks and you hit rock bottom?

CITY
What do you know about rock bottom? Trust me, this this isn’t rock bottom. It’s no where near rock bottom

(On the movie screen, we see Bela Lugosi stalk his prey. The usherette moves out of his way back to her original position by the red curtain.)

CITY
Everything terrible you’ve ever thought up or saw or read in the paper…eventually everything terrible happens. To everyone. Sure, it happens in the city, but happens just as often in the country. Don’t kid yourself. Ok? Everyone gets scalped in the end.

(The Dark browed man returns into the movie house, he has the girl by the arm. She is upset, but doesn't resist as he leads her back to their original seats.)

COUNTRY
How can you think like that? If I held that kind of view I wouldn't be able to keep going? Is that what you really think? If it is what is their possibly left to look forward to?

CITY
Every other Friday night.

COUNTRY
A new picture?

CITY
In the movie house we are all looking at the same thing. That gives me…something

COUNTRY
What?

CITY
Maybe....?... I don’t know.

(Something stirs behind the red curtain. The usherette goes and looks up the step toward the balcony. There she sees the image of Bela again. The silhouette of a huge fat man in a suit steps into the image and obstructs the view of Bela. The man puffs on his cigar looking down at the usherette. He takes out a handkerchief and wipes the back of his heck. Next, the man unbuttons his vest. He rubs his belly. He drops his cigar which rolls down to the bottom of the steps where the usherette stands. He looks down at the cigar. She bends over to pick it and looks back at the silhouette of the fat man who folds him arms at the top of the stairs…waiting. Before She can decide on a course of action, the lights fade.)

Miss Mary

Here's my draft of 'Miss Mary' - based on NIGHT WINDOWS (Jen E used the same painting for her piece 'Night Windows', where the image is being seen from her character's POV) - in this piece, my hope is that the painting could be replicated on stage at both the beginning and the end of the play - though the character, Mary, finds herself in that position for two very different reasons.


Miss Mary
By By Jove (!) - Dave D
Winter, 2007
Edward Hopper (WNEP)


(MARY is frenetically straightening, arranging then rearranging things throughout the tiny apartment. The layout of the apartment is simple – A narrow day bed rests against the SR wall, a radiator UC. The only entrance to the space is the front door UL. The SL area is occupied by a kitchenette, wooden chair and a mirror.
Mary lights a flame on the stove top and starts a pot of coffee.
She brings her face very close to the burner – so close that her cheek reddens and begins to sweat. Just before the skin might blister, she rushes to the window SR – opens it – and thrusts her head outside, taking in a desperate gasp of fresh, cool air. This enlivens her and she begins to hum a sweet little song.
She sashays across the room, as if parading before throngs of ogling admirers - then stops in front of the short, free-standing mirror SL. She bends at the waist and leans in to inspect something.
A sudden, rapid knocking at the door jolts her)

MARY: Is it you?

MILES: (Off) Of course.

(She unlocks many locks, opens the door. MILES enters – under his arm he carries a medium box wrapped in brown paper and tied up with string. His hand is bleeding. Upon his entrance and throughout, he remains within a small playing space – between the door and the kitchenette)

MARY: I didn’t know if you’d come – what happened to your hand?

MILES: Why wouldn’t I?

MARY: I just. Well. I don’t know, I suppose – do you need a bandage?

MILES: You don’t know?

MARY: I suppose – I don’t believe I have any bandages.

MILES: I told you when I’d come. The day, the time, hour and minute. And here it is.

MARY: I have some clean strips of linen. I decided if I was going to spend so much time in these close quarters, I’d better keep it tidy.

MILES: You were hoping I wasn’t coming, I bet.

MARY: I’ve been waiting so long. I knew how long I was supposed to wait – but after a few days I began to think it had been a week and when two weeks went by I felt as if a whole month had passed and I realized that I hadn’t turned any of the pages on my wall calendar there and – oh, my…

MILES: Relax.

MARY: I. Seem to be…

(She rushes to the window SR and throws her head outside for a gulp of fresh air)

MILES: I’m here now.

MARY: Your hand. I can help you. Here.

(She ushers him to the chair SL. He adjusts the chair into a precise position beside the kitchenette and sits down.
Mary takes some strips of linen from beneath the sink and fills a small pitcher with water)

MARY: Here we are…

(She slowly, carefully washes and dresses the wound – there is a long silence until Miles finally speaks)

MILES: You’ve got your father’s hands. And his arms. Skinny little arms. Like a bird.

MARY: How did this happen?

MILES: There was a broken beer bottle lying on the sidewalk. Outside.

MARY: How did you cut your hand on it?

MILES: People throw their bottles and newspapers, cigarettes and everything else on the ground. I can’t stand the sight of it. So I pick it up. One of these days we’ll open our doors and we’ll all be up to our necks in broken bottles of glass and cigarette butts and everything else.

MARY: Does that feel better?

(She finishes dressing the wound)

MILES: They keep saying the bottom’s about to fall out.

MARY: Would you like some coffee?

MILES: Nobody likes to think about the future. Nobody wants to think about where it all goes. It all piles up somewhere out of sight - the bottles and papers and cans. But that somewhere isn’t going to be out of sight forever. I bet you don’t like thinking about the future. Do you?

MARY: (beat) Are you going to have a cup of coffee or aren’t you?

MILES: You can pour me a cup. Set it beside the window there to cool.

(She pours the cup slowly and holds it out towards him)

MARY: What’s inside of that package?

(He points to the cup)

MILES: Beside the window.

MARY: Do you take any sugar?

MILES: Set it down, Mary.

MARY: I’ve got some sugar just up –

MILES: Set down that cup.

(She turns on him, wielding the hot coffee threateningly)

MARY: Tell me what you’re gonna do to me! I did everything you said! I did everything right – just like you told me. Now you’ve gotta leave me be –

MILES: Mary.

MARY: I did everything the way you told me…

MILES: I know you did.

(He places his hand over the cup, steadying her shaking hand until she begins to calm)

MARY: I did everything right.

MILES: I always knew you would.

(Mary rests the cup on the window sill SL. She goes to the window SR and takes a deep breath)

MARY: What’s inside that package?
MILES: A present. Do you have the letters?

(She reaches beneath the bed and fishes out a shoe box. There are countless old letters inside the box. The flame on the stove continues to burn, sending steam out of the coffee pot)

MARY: I spent so much time in this room lately. I don’t think I’ve ever been in one, singular place so much, for so long, in my entire lifetime. Just how you told me – only went to the little market on the corner for groceries and cigarettes and some magazines.

MILES: I know. You did well.

MARY: You’d think a person might go crazy cooped up in a room with nothing to do, no one to talk to. But it’s amazing – the ways you can find to keep yourself occupied.

MILES: I don’t believe my father would have agreed with you.

MARY: Yes, well… (As if remembering the punch line to some long-forgotten joke, she lets out a small, innocent laugh) I wrote little songs. Little tunes. To pass the time. I’ve never had a drop of musical ability my entire life. But one afternoon - sitting right over there, looking out that window – I wrote the funniest little songs.

MILES: What kind of songs?

MARY: Well. I suppose they were…

MILES: Yes?

MARY: (Shyly) …naughty little songs.

MILES: May I hear one?

MARY: Yes. (Beat – with strength) If you’ll tell me what’s inside of that box.

MILES: (Thinks about it) Fair. But the song first.

(She looks nervously for a place to ‘perform’ her song, finally settling next to the day bed)

MARY: It’s very silly. The first song that came in my mind. I was just sitting at the window, watching a little girl on a bicycle going around and around in a circle down there, right in the middle of the street. Her bike had a little bell and she rang that bell each time she finished another circle. And I thought to myself – that little girl doesn’t believe she’s riding a bicycle. No sir. Because I remember how it is to be ten years old and to ride a bike when you haven’t got a care in the world. That pretty little girl’s commanding a steam boat. She’s steering a great big steamboat up and down the Mississippi and that bell she keeps ringing is her steamboat’s bell. …. (Singing) Miss Mary had a steamboat, the steamboat had a bell….Miss Mary went to heaven, the steamboat went to…

MILES: ….Hell?

MARY: (laughs) No! – that’s what you’re supposed to think. But it’s not, see? “…the steamboat went to…Hell-l-l-o operator, give me number nine….and if you disconnect me…I’ll kick you from behind!

(They both laugh out loud)

MILES: I’ll kick you from behind -

MARY: - The ‘frigerator…there was a piece of glass…Miss Mary sat upon it…

MILES: It stuck right in her ass!

(They continue to laugh. The laughter fades. Beat)

MARY: What’s in that package?

MILES: A present.

MARY: For whom?

MILES: My niece. It’s her birthday tomorrow.

MARY: What did you buy her?

MILES: It’s a wooden doll. And when you open the wooden doll, there’s another wooden doll inside of her. And inside of her, there’s another, and so on. By the time she’s finished taking them apart, there’s eight dolls.

MARY: That’s nice. What’s her name?

MILES: Susan. But we call her Suzie.

MARY: Miss Suzie. That’s a pretty name.

(Mary looks around for something, anything to talk about. Miles just stares at her)

MARY: Are you going to let me go?

MILES: I can’t.
MARY: I could run to that window right now. I can start screaming your name. They’d know what you did –

MILES: I haven’t done anything.

MARY: I’ll tell them everything.

MILES: No you won’t.

MARY: Yes I will.

(Mary goes to the open window DR and sticks her head outside)

MILES: You won’t because you know that you deserve it.

(She just sits there, leaning out the window)

MARY: Why do I deserve it? It was my father. Not me. Not my mother.

MILES: You and your mother enjoyed every luxury that money could buy. Your father gave you a kingdom while he watched my father sit in prison, while they auctioned off our home, our clothes – our bicycles.

MARY: But I didn’t know about any of that – I was just a little girl.

MILES: Our fathers were more than business partners, Mary. They were friends.

MARY: I know.

MILES: Not only did your father betray mine in business –

MARY: Miles –

MILES: He betrayed him in friendship.

MARY: Please –

MILES: In family. We were left to rot while you were spoiled with all that money could buy. The money your father stole and kept hidden.

MARY: I’m sorry.

MILES: When my mother and sister and I were taken from our home. When it all finally choked his heart to death and mother was left begging old friends to give him a funeral – It’s what finally killed her, too.

MARY: I just didn’t know.

MILES: Your ignorance doesn’t make you innocent.

MARY: (Beat) I was there the night my father died. Did you know that? He’d locked himself up in his office and mother and I went down there to talk to him. He’d been receiving those letters. Every day – sometimes twice a day, but he wouldn’t let anyone else see them. Mother thought they were threats from some scorned lover he’d wronged out of the secretary pool. (Miles laughs) Anonymous letters. We were on our way up in the elevator when he leapt from the window.

MILES: Did you see him?

MARY: After. (Pause) You must have writ so many letters…

MILES: A hundred and eighty-seven of them.

MARY: Mother just sat there with a pile of them on her bed. She read each one like another chapter to a book. Telling the story of what he’d done to your father.

MILES: You read them?

MARY: (Nods) Does it make it even?

MILES: No.

(Mary moves flirtatiously across the room)

MARY: Do you want to hear another song?

MILES: No. I like the one you sang before.

MARY: Miss…Mary had a steamboat…that steamboat had a bell…Miss Mary went to heaven….the steamboat…….

(Miles has reached into his inside suit pocket and withdraws what appears to be a tightly folded leather pouch. He shakes it out, unfurling a leather mask… A black leather mask, very simple, with precise holes for the eyes and mouth)

MARY: What’s that?

MILES: Try it on.

MARY: I don’t want to.

MILES: I’d like to see how it looks. On you.

MARY: No.

MILES: Put it on and it’s all over. I’ll let you be.

MARY: I’d like a cigarette. I don’t smoke very often, but on occasion…

(She looks around for a cigarette – Miles takes a pack from his pocket)

MILES: Put it on and you can have one.

MARY: Fair. But only for a moment.

(Miles nods. He gently turns her around so that she’s facing the mirror. He places the mask over her head and secures it. They stand looking in the mirror for a long moment. She gets a sudden burst of fortitude but Miles grabs her and sets her in the chair. He stands behind the chair with his hands on her shoulders. Reaching a hand around her face, he places the cigarette in her mouth. He lights it for her. She takes a deep inhale. He grasps her neck and chokes her viciously. In the struggle, he lifts her up from the chair – Her body finally goes limp.
She collapses, draped over the back of the chair. A puff of smoke escapes her lips.

Miles picks up the dropped cigarette and the box of letters.
He removes the coffee pot from the stove and dumps the letters onto the burners.
He takes all of the remaining linens, rags, etc. from the drawer where Mary had retrieved his bandages and tosses them onto the growing flame. He drops the still-burning cigarette onto the floor.

He begins to hum the tune of Mary’s song.
He removes the mask from Mary’s face and folds it up very tightly – then hides it in his pocket.
He exits the room as the flames continue to grow over the kitchenette.





THE END

Two on the Aisle

TWO ON THE AISLE
Written by Joe Janes

CAST:
Ernst
Thelma
E
T

(Lights up in the house. Ernst gets up from his aisle seat and puts on his long coat. His wife, Thelma, remains seated. Seated off and behind them in the house is T. She sits looking at her program.)



ERNST
There you are. I have now gone to the theater… We should be going.

THELMA
I know. I know.

ERNST
To facilitate the going part, Thelma, you should consider standing and putting on your coat.

THELMA
Just another minute. Please, Ernst. I haven’t seen him in ten years.

ERNST
He doesn’t even know you are here.

THELMA
He knows I’m here. He saw me. I know he saw me.

ERNST
He would have come out by now.

THELMA
In the drawing room scene, when he poured himself a brandy… Just before he called that tarty girl a “swine"... He looked right at me. He might even have winked at me.

ERNST
It’s bad enough I allowed you to drag me here on a Thursday night, we left junior alone with your mother. We need to go home before she loads him up on cookies and coffee so he’ll stay up and keep her company.

THELMA
She said she wouldn’t do that, again.

ERNST
The woman is capable of anything but raising a child properly. She fed you lasagna as baby food.

THELMA
It was pureed.

ERNST
It was lasagna.

THELMA
All right. Let’s go. (She gets up. He helps her with her coat. They head toward the exit. E enters through the curtain from the stage.)

E
Thelma? Is that you?

THELMA
You did see me! I knew you saw me! (She runs up to E and gives him a big hug.) He saw me! You were so good up there. You looked so good in your tuxedo. Where’s your tuxedo?

E
It’s in my dressing room… Can’t wear it all the time.

THELMA
Oh. You saw me. You saw me when you called that woman a swine. And she was a swine! Boy, what a swine!

E
The cast is heading to the bar across the street. Would you like to join us? Give us a chance to catch up.


ERNST
Ahem.

THELMA
Oh, Ernst. This is my husband…Ernst.

E
Ernst…small world.

ERNST
Well, it’s a common name.

E
How do you do?

ERNST
Lovely.

E
Care to join us?

ERNST
Unfortunately, we need to get back home to care for our son, Ernst, Jr.

E
You’re married and have a child?

THELMA (sighs)
Yes.

E
I didn’t know.

ERNST
That’s all right. I never knew you existed until yesterday afternoon when we saw the advert for your play “The Gay Scoundrel.”

THELMA
You made a beautiful scoundrel, Ernst.

E
You think so? I felt off tonight.

THELMA
How long are you in town? Ernst works during the day and Ernst, Jr has school. Maybe we could get together.

ERNST
Perhaps on Saturday, you could come over to the house and meet the whole family.

E
Oh, Saturday’s a bear. We do three shows that day.

THELMA (hugs E)
You saw me. The last time I saw you was when we watched the sun go down at the lake. And then watched it come back up again. (E shrugs towards Ernst)

ERNST
We need to go, Thelma.

E (peeling himself away)
It was nice seeing you, Thelma. I’m glad you are doing well.

THELMA (sighs)
Yes.

E
And it was nice meeting you, Ernst.

ERNST
Yes. It was.

E
Good luck with that boy of yours… I’ll see you, again.

THELMA
I hope it’s not another ten years.

E
I hope not, too.

(Thelma and Ernst leave. E watches them leave and then notices T. Thelma runs back in and plants a kiss on him.)

THELMA
Ernst is getting a taxi. I knew you saw me. I just knew it.

E
I look for you every night, wherever I am.


T
Ahem.

E (peeling Thelma off him)
Ah. Thelma. Let me introduce you to someone. This is my wife…Thelma.

THELMA
Oh. I didn’t know.

T
Now you do. Good-bye.

(Thelma leaves. E walks to T.)

E
Darling!

T
Swine.


(Blackout.)

Girlie Show

GIRLIE SHOW

ART (Speaking)
SAM
HANNAH
SQUAW


(In the dark we hear a live jazz combo. They aren’t terrific, but they can keep a tune. They are playing a version of “Everything Happens to Me” in a slow, suggestive way that is completely opposed to the nature of the song.

A spotlight comes up on a woman dancing in a Burlesque hall. The hall is pretty middle of the road, not a palace, but it’s not seedy. There is the inkling that perhaps it was home to vaudeville in its earlier days. Now the velvet curtains are a touch ratty and the paint is chipping, but there aren’t any rats.

In front of and below the dancer is the combo, as heard before. They play the tune with sort of a weary boredom, with no percussion at first.

SAM, the drummer, sits at his drum kit, his sticks resting on the snare, staring at the high hat. After a minute, one of the other band members hisses at him, SAM blinks and starts keeping time with the song.

They play and the woman continues to dance. She’s not good, worse than the band. She just stands center stage, sort of wiggling her rhythm-less hips with intermittent shoulder shimmies. She is nude with the exception of a g-string, some tassels tied to her arms, and an Indian headdress.

The song comes to a merciful end and the woman bows to a few claps and one or two wolf calls. ART, a red, sweaty, globular man in his mid-forties rushes in from off stage with a microphone)

ART
Give it up for “Little Squaw”, huh? C’mon! You give her a hand!

(The applause increase but not by much. She bows again and offers a little smile. As she passes him to head off stage he slaps her bare bottom with his hand.)

ART
Big Chief Arthur make wampum with “Little Squaw” later (He lets out a high pitched giggle). She’ll do anything for a ride to the liquor store!

(There is no rim shot, just a cough and slow clap from the back of the house. The band looks at SAM. ART glares down. He repeats the last three words of the joke with great emphasis.)

ART
The. Liquor. Store.

(SAM looks up and gives him a rim shot with no finesse whatsoever. BAH. DUM. BAH. TING. ART Scoffs)

ART
Heh. Heh. Ladies and Gentlemen, I guess you can’t get good white help these days, am I right? (Laughs at himself. There are a couple of guffaws from out in the audience. He transitions quickly to keep the show going.) But enough about my wife…let’s bring on some more girls. Let me here it!

(the Audience applauds a little, and there is some muttering complaint.)

ART
Our next girlie is brand new to the Emporium here…brand NEW, I say. She’s the saucy red head from Upstate New York! Let’s give it up for RED HOT HANNAH!

(ART jogs offstage and the spotlight hold for a second, anticipating the dancer’s entrance. The band begins to play Funky Blues or something by Coco Schumann. SAM doesn’t look up as they slur through the music.

HANNAH emerges from off stage and the crowd goes ape, hooting and whistling. HANNAH is a tall robust woman, in her mid-thirties. She stares out over the audience for a beat, wearing a purple g-string and shrouding herself in a sheer purple cloth. Her face is nearly expressionless, with a hint of a knowing gleam in her eye.

The music lurches on and she opens her arms wide, exposing her naked breasts. There is a cheer from the audience as she does this. She strides across the stage. Men call her name and whistle with abandon.

SAM is oblivious to all of this.

Once across the stage she turns and covers herself again, peeking over her shoulder. She sways her hips and notices the band, SAM in particular. He is hard to miss, being the only fellow who doesn’t have his eyes all over her.

SAM plays his drums, missing beats and throwing off the rhythm.

HANNAH marches further across the stage, opening her cover again to reveal her chest. She keeps her eyes glued to SAM, trying to get move into his line of sight. SAM is in his own world, tapping out an unremarkable rhythm.

After a couple of passes, HANNAH is about to give up any hope of capturing his attention, when SAM rears back and lets out a truly graceless sneeze. The jerk of his head sends his gaze her way. Their eyes lock for a second.

SAM’s beat picks up, he turns away, unsure of what has just happened. HANNAH’s eyes remain on him. There is now a glimmer, a change in her countenance. Her moves become softer, less strident.

SAM taps out a few flourishes on his drums, and gives a shy look HANNAH’s way to see if perhaps she has noticed. As his beat becomes more playful, she throws her shoulders back, smiling down at him.

The audiences hollering and whooting has died down.

The song comes to a slow end and the men in the crowd applaud here and there. HANNAH extends a delicate bow, giving the same cold stare as before to the audience, but softening when she reaches SAM’s stare.

He holds his drumstick in his hands, watching her go. A beat. He looks at his drums and then to the exit where she left. SAM’s face clouds with uncertainty.

Lights fade as we hear ART pounding onto the stage.)

ART
Wasn’t that beautiful, fellas! Let’s give it up for RED HOT HANNAH!

(Applause. SAM remains at his drums. Lights fade.)

Nighthawks (2nd draft)

Ed the Man
Jo the Woman
Tom, a slightly drunk Stranger
A Waiter

(She is sitting by herself. A Stranger enters from the side and sits at the counter diagonal from her. He is looking at her. Checking her out. She is looking straight ahead passively attempting to avoid a conversation. He looks long and hard, long enough she finally gives him a quick neutral nod. He starts in)

S - It sure is late.

(She smiles politely. He takes out a cigarette, he can't find his lighter. Makes a show of searching through all his pockets, hoping she'll offer him a match. We see he has a little drunk on, not slurring his speech quite yet, but a sip of cough syrup might be all it would take and he could slide into slop.)

S- You wouldn't have a light?

(She shakes her head no)

S -Do you smoke?

W – (A bit stern) No.

(Stranger looks at the Waiter, waiter shrugs)

S - I never seen you here before.

(She lets out a deep sigh. Outside we see her some time beau ED walking along the far side of the street watching. He crosses the street and stands at JO’s back behind the glass, looking at them watching, waiting...he is aware of them, they are not aware of him. He watches the gentleman watching her.)

S - You been here before? I'm here all the time. I'm a regular. (to the waiter) Aint that right? (Waiter nods)

W - I'm not usually here this late

S - Seems nobody is ever here this late. (beat) You probably got the lunch menu memorized I'll bet. Well, they serve stuff completely different this hour. Smaller menu this late. Meager. (to the Waiter) You give her a menu?

W - I'm not hungry

S - Come on now, it's on me.

W - No thank you.

S - At least let a gentleman, buy you a cup of coffee.

(She points to a nickel on the counter.)

W - Really, no thank you.

(Stranger shrugs not angry but a little dejected.)

S - Well then...well then...I...I....ahhh...you know...it aint a wedding ring...it's just a cup of joe.

(She is about to apologize, but stops herself. She thinks that an apology would probably be taken as an invitation by this guy. And she is probably right. Her Man outside has seen enough and disappears upstage center. Waiter offers to fill her coffee mug. She lets him.)

S - You meeting someone?

(She nods)

S - They late?

(She shrugs)

S -Yeah, they're late.

(He waits for a response. She just looks down into her mug.)

S - You know how I know? (beat) I said you know how I know?

W - No

S - Because you dont look happy.

(She shakes her head.)

S - Me, I'm a happy guy. But, you? Sad...sad girlie

W – It’s not your business.

S - I got a heart, don't I? I see someone unhappy. I got a heart.

W - Please...

S - As big as a...

W - Just please stop

S -a three ring circus. (He pounds his chest.)

(She looks to the Waiter. He apologizes with his body language and goes back to polishing the countertop)

S - Deeper than the deep blue sea.

W - I'd rather you didn't concern yourself

S - Concern myself

W - I'd rather you didn't

S - Concern myself with you? Alright...alright...look I apologize. I don't want to offend you ok? (beat) Ok?!!!

W - OK

S - Because, that aint my way ok?

W - Ok

(pause)

S - I'm not the kind of guy who likes to bother strange women. That aint my modus operandy.

(pause.)

S - But you know, you are a beautiful woman. You got the world on string and you don't even know it I bet.

W - (She has had enough) Look, when my guy gets here. It'd sure make me "happy" if he didnt see you making eyes at me. Alright?

S - Well excuse me to high hell sister. Don't worry. I don't make eyes at strange women.

(A moment passes. Her Man comes in through the back door. They all stop and turn to him. He looks at her. Once the Stranger finishes looking he turns back to his cup, Man walks in looking hard at gentleman until he passes behind her and sits next to Her)

S - Be careful buddy. She's waiting for someone

M - (To her) Who is this?

W - I don't know.

M - Well, maybe we could? (he points, indicates leaving)

W - Where are we going to go? (She indicates her wristwatch)

Waiter - (to Man) Coffee?

(Man nods. Gives the Stranger another glance.)

W - Just ignore him.

S - (Annoyed)What?!

M - (Also Annoyed) What?!

S - What? She is waiting for someone...

M - She's waiting for me.

(Stranger lifts his mug to toast)

S - Bully for you. (He leans and winks at Woman)

(Waiter gives Stranger a look saying "let them be" Stranger drunkly mocks him a little. Waiter puts his hands on his hips like he means it.)

S - Alright! Alright! (to Man) Buddy, ignore me alright? I'm a little (gestures drunk) I don't mean nothing. (Leans to look at W) Lady, I don’t mean nothing. (To Waiter) Look, I'm buttoning it up. (He pretends to button his lip and gestures for more coffee. Waiter puts coffee in front of the Man. Man leans in a for a moment to take in the aroma.)

W – I see you’re back on the coffee wagon

M – Yeah

W – How many is that for today?

M – Two

W – Two cups? Including this one?

M – Two pots

W – Ed?!!! They told you that wasn’t any good for your heart!

M – You can't bust a heart that’s already broken

(She stares at him for a beat, decides that what he said is too corn ball, and plays a little air violin for him. He smiles for a second, and then remembers that he isn’t supposed to be smiling. He reaches over and starts pouring sugar into his coffee, a lot of sugar. She watches him in an off put manner. He pours in cream up to the rim. He then tastes it carefully drinks down a half inch and pours in more cream. He then pushes the sugar toward her.)

W - I don’t use sugar

M - Oh

W - You know that

M – You right, I knew that.

W - If you know that I don’t use it, why even offer it to me?

M - Are we really going to have an argument about the sugar?!

W - I don’t want to argue at all

M – Me neither

(pause.)

M - Where are you staying

W - At a friend’s

M – Who with?

W - Mary

M - I should have figured

W - What does that mean

M - Nothing. I didn’t mean it the way it came out.

(The Waiter refills her water. He then goes back to cleaning the far countertop)

M -I miss you (beat, he waits) I said, I miss you

W - I hear you

M – Don’t you miss me?

W – (beat) I think…

(He stiffens, she notices)

W - Let me finish

M - Alright

W - I think so, sometimes.

M - Sometimes (he has a small unsatisfied chuckle in the back of throat. Pause, he tries to make peace with it) Tell me about … sometimes

W - When I see a couple, on the street or on the train.

M - UhHmm

W - Holding hands

(He puts his hand on the counter for her. He wiggles his fingers for her. She hesitates but then she touches her hand to his. He smiles.)

W - What about you?

M -I miss it all the time

W - No, no that's not good enough. You got be more specific

(pause.)

M – You know how when we started out, how I couldn’t stand the cuddling?

(She lets out a loud short laugh before she can catch herself. He stares straight ahead frustrated)
W - I'm sorry.

M - Nah

W - I shouldn't have done that. Go ahead.

M - Now that I cant have it...

W – (a little baby talk teasing voice) You want to cuddle?

M - Don't laugh

W - I'm not laughing

M - You are

W - No, this is smiling.

(pause. She pulls away a bit. Her hesitation about them returns.)

W - We try and try but we keep falling back, How? I can’t figure it.

M - I thought...I thought that you…

W - What?

M - Preferred the company of others

W - To you?

(He nods)

M - I thought you were not interested in spending time with me anymore

W - What gave you that idea?

M - You didn't used to need anyone else.

W - I am only with you, I've only ever been with you.

M - I feel like It is always a choice between me and who we fraternize with?

W - But Ed? You don't fraternize with anybody?

M - You can't dictate my friendships.

W - You can't dictate mine either

M - But if those friendships come before me?

W - You hate my friends that much?!

M - Not all of them

(She gives him a icy look. She starts shaking her head.)

W – We can keep each other company, but it seems we can never share anything anymore. (pause, holding back tear) I don't think I can do this.

M – Don’t say that

W – I can't keep putting up with this. I'm too old.

M – No you’re not

W – Yes I am, and so are you. Look (She puts her finger to his forehead) Wrinkles, stress lines, crows feet

M – More like crows boots (She smiles. She doesn't want to but she does. It almost makes her let lose her emotion. They look at each others face. She turns away first. He points to her face) Well look…that’s something we share.

(She hits him in the chest a couple times. He lets her. Her last blow rests on his chest and grabs his lapel. They want to kiss, but they don't)

M – I want you. I want you all to myself. I don’t need anyone else. Isn’t that enough? Can’t you tell me you want me too?

W – You're just lonely. We both are. But what happens in a few days when that loneliness goes away? We're back to square one.

(beat)

M – Come back? Come back with me tonight...(he gets weak) please.

(pause. Quiet…no waiter…no stranger…where did they go?)

W – Alright

M – And stay till morning. It’s not enough unless I can hold you till then

W – (hesitate looking at her fingernails) I’ll try... That is all I can say for now

(pause)

W – Is that enough?

(blackout)


*********************************************

Western Motel

“Western Motel” - Draft 1
Michael Brownlee

(AT RISE: A rather nice motel room, somewhere in the Northern Rockies. Lillian, 30’s, sits on the bed, lost in thought, looking out the large, picture window. There are a couple of suitcases next to the bed. After a moment, Harry, 30’s, enters with a couple of more suitcases and sets them down. He begins checking out the place.)

HARRY
(Walking around)
How about this place, huh? Not bad. Not bad at all. That fellow at the service station didn’t hang us out to dry, did he? No sir, he did all right. We’ve got a shower and a hot plate for coffee. Did you see the view out the bathroom window? That lake looks like it goes on for miles. What do you say we unpack these bags later and take a walk down to the water? I don’t know about you, but I could do with a stretch after all that driving.
(Beat)
Lil?

LILLIAN
I’m sorry, Harry, what were you saying?

HARRY
I said, how about a walk? The guy at the front desk said there’s a pier down there. Maybe we can watch the sun set over the lake? Assuming that’s West. I’m so turned around after driving those twisting roads, you could point to the moon and say it was West and I’d believe you.

LILLIAN
You go ahead. I think I’m going to lie down for a spell.

HARRY
Come on. We’ve been cooped up in that car all afternoon. This mountain air will do us a world of good.

LILLIAN
I just don’t feel like walking. But you go if you want.

HARRY
I thought the idea of this trip was for us to have some together time? How’s that going to happen if you’re in here and I’m out there? Besides, what if I run into some of the natural wildlife of the area? Who’s going to protect me if I run into a mountain lion or a rattlesnake?

LILLIAN
Just stick to the path and I’m sure you’ll be fine.

(Pause. Lillian goes back to staring out the window. Harry watches her.)

HARRY
How many pills did you take today? Lillian?

LILLIAN
What?

HARRY
How many did you –

LILLIAN
I haven’t taken any. Not today.

HARRY
You just seem a little quieter than usual. You all right?

LILLIAN
Just thinking is all.

HARRY
About?

(Lillian gives him a look.)

HARRY
Don’t give me that “you should know” look. I’m not a mind reader. You could be thinking of any number of things. You could be thinking about what lovely weekend we’re going to have. Or how nice it will be to rent a boat and be out on the water. Or that you’d like to find a nice Italian restaurant and get some spaghetti for dinner.

LILLIAN
I wasn’t thinking that.

HARRY
Well, why don’t you? I’m getting pretty hungry. We can ask the clerk if there’s –

LILLIAN
I was thinking that it was a mistake for us to come here.
(Beat)
Aren’t you glad you asked?

HARRY
Actually I am. It explains all the kicking and screaming as I forced you into the car.

LILLIAN
Harry, don’t –

HARRY
We’re here now, Lil. It’s a five hour drive back to civilization and it’s going to be dark before we even get out of the mountains. You going to drive? No, you don’t like to drive at night. And I don’t particularly want to turn right back around and get in that car again. So we’re here. At least for the night.
(Beat)
Listen, we’ll take a walk. Have a nice dinner. And then we can talk about it.

LILLIAN
I just feel guilty, is all.

(Harry sighs. This is a well trodden conversation.)

HARRY
Lillian, you have no reason to feel guilty.

LILLIAN
And yet I do.

HARRY
Lil, the whole point of coming up here was to get away from all that for a while.

LILLIAN
I’m sorry, Harry, I’m not like you, I can’t just turn it off because the scenery changes.

HARRY
Please, Lil, I need this. We need this. We haven’t had an evening to ourselves, a romantic evening, just you and me alone, since…

(Silence)

LILLIAN
Say it.

HARRY
I’m going for a walk. Would you like to come?

LILLIAN
You can’t run away from it, Harry. It’ll still be here when you get back.

HARRY
Damn it, Lil! I’m not running away! I just don’t want to –
(Calming himself)
You promised we weren’t going to talk about this. We came here to forget about it.

LILLIAN
We won’t ever be able to forget, Harry.

HARRY
Not forget forever, Lil. My god. Just for a couple of days. Clear our heads a little. Just long enough to feel human again.

LILLIAN
Instead of what?

HARRY
Instead of this! This constant reminder. He’s gone, Lil. I know that. You’re not the only one who lost a son, goddamn it. I shoveled dirt into his grave. Into my only son’s grave. But we’re not in there with him.

LILLIAN
Stop it, Harry!

HARRY
He was sick and he died and that’s tragic, but we’re still here, Lillian. We have got get past it.

LILLIAN
I wish it was me.

(Harry crosses over to her and grabs her, pulling her up.)

HARRY
Take it back! Take it back goddamn it! You’re still alive. Do you hear me? Start acting like it! We owe him that. We have to live for him! Use the life he couldn’t.

LILLIAN
(Struggling to get away from him.)
I don’t want to.

HARRY
Then live for me, Lillian. I’m still here! Do you understand? I’m still here and goddamnit I still love you.

LILLIAN
Harry, please.

HARRY
I still love you, Lil. I love you.

(Harry begins kissing her. Lillian is still trying to pull away. In the struggle, they wind up falling on the bed, with Harry on top of her. Harry begins to kiss her all over, but Lillian has stopped struggling and now just lies there. After a few moments Harry stops. He gets up.)

HARRY
I’m sorry, Lil. I’m sorry. I just…
(Pause)
I’m still alive, Lil. And I still love you. But if you’re not…If you’re not, then…

(Harry begins to weep, kneeling beside the bed. Lillian has not moved, lying with her eyes closed.)