Three One-Act Plays Page 4

  FRED

  That can be changed—I know a brain surgeon who can install a dish.

  JIM

  I accept the Judeo-Christian ethic.

  FRED

  You take your orders from a cartel?

  JIM

  You equate psychosis with creativity.

  FRED

  Hey, don't believe me—check your reviews over the years. What do you think the critics mean when they euphemistically refer to you as a “fine craftsman”?

  JIM

  That I'm a solid professional. You're just unstructured madness.

  FRED

  That's why we'd make a good team.

  JIM

  No, I don't want to be a team.

  FRED

  You're afraid.

  JIM

  Maybe—but it's my choice and I'm saying no to murder. I realize there's probably going to be very painful consequences, but I'm responsible for what I've gotten myself into and if Barbara chooses to behave like a vicious snake, taking her life is still absolutely unacceptable.

  FRED

  We have hit on the kernel of your problem, kid. You can't make the leap.

  (Now Barbara appears on the scene again.)

  BARBARA

  I want to talk to you.

  JIM

  Barbara—I thought—

  BARBARA

  I'm glad you're still here.

  FRED

  Barbara, are you allergic to any insect sprays or roach powder?

  JIM

  Fred!

  BARBARA

  I want to speak to him alone.

  FRED

  Alone? How is that possible?

  BARBARA

  Without you around.

  FRED

  But we're partners.

  JIM

  OK, Fred—give me some space—we're not joined at the hip.

  FRED

  But our collaboration—

  JIM

  Please—I need some time with Barbara. Go chat with the mother ship.

  FRED

  OK—suit yourself. I'm out of here.

  (sotto to Jim)

  You see that glowing red aura around her? The only time I've ever seen it before was around Nixon.

  (Fred exits.)

  JIM

  Barbara, I'm sorry about everything.

  BARBARA

  I needed a few minutes to clear my head.

  JIM

  You were pretty frazzled back there.

  BARBARA

  Everything took me by surprise.

  JIM

  I apologize for that. There's no easy way to end an affair.

  BARBARA

  I knew what I was getting myself into.

  JIM

  I never led you on. We're both adults.

  BARBARA

  I've been a little tense lately. Lost my job—been drinking a little too much.

  JIM

  I understand. I was going through a bad period in my marriage for a while. Maybe it'll never right itself, but having an affair is not the way I should be dealing with it. If there's anything I can do for you—

  BARBARA

  I'd like three hundred thousand dollars.

  JIM

  Just let me know.

  BARBARA

  Three hundred down and two more by the end of the year.

  JIM

  Pardon me?

  BARBARA

  You've come into some dough with your screenplay. I think you can manage a half mil.

  JIM

  Barbara, think what you're doing—

  BARBARA

  You think. I could make your life miserable but I'm not. That's got to be worth something.

  JIM

  A half million dollars—

  BARBARA

  You gonna quibble? I'll go to Lola right now.

  JIM

  I can't pay that kind of money.

  BARBARA

  You mean you won't.

  JIM

  No, I won't. Even if I could I wouldn't. Because it wouldn't stop there. You'd be all over me next year and the year after that.

  BARBARA

  Jim, you're not in a position to make the rules.

  JIM

  I'm trying to clean up a mess I made, not get deeper into it. This would tie us together forever. You'd bleed me white over the years. I'd never be free of you.

  BARBARA

  I want the money by tomorrow—the first payment, that is. You have twenty-four hours.

  JIM

  I don't need twenty-four hours.

  BARBARA

  If I don't hear from you by tomorrow afternoon I'll assume you'd prefer I blew the whistle. Your choice. Sleep well.

  (As she goes off, Jim doesn't know where to turn, then he takes out his cellular phone.)

  JIM

  (ranting)

  No—you won't blow any whistle because I will. I'll tell Lola myself. I'll confess everything. I'll beg her to understand. I'll weep, I'll grovel. Lola's a decent human. Maybe she can find it in her heart to forgive me … all right, that's a long shot … but I couldn't go on living knowing there was someone out there who could wreck my home on a whim … every time she wanted more money … and the payments would get bigger … bigger and more frequent … How would I explain that? No, Lola, we can't afford the apartment anymore—but I can't tell you why … And the vacation's out—and the boys have to get jobs. Little twin jobs …

  (Fred has entered laconically and just observes Jim, who doesn't see Fred and speaks into the phone.)

  Hello—Lola, it's Jim. Jim Swain … your—your husband … old Jim Swain, James Swain, ha, ha … So how've you been? Good—life treating you right? Ha, ha—what? No—I haven't been drinking. I just wanted to chat. You know I love you … ha, ha … Lola—I have something to tell you—

  (Fred takes the cellular phone away and throws it onto the ground.)

  FRED

  What are you doing?

  JIM

  What'd you do?

  FRED

  You weren't going to confess everything to Lola, were you?

  JIM

  Yes I was—do you know that you were right about Barbara— she has a red aura around her—I'm sure I saw it—she wants five hundred thousand dollars—for openers—can you believe that? Three hundred big ones tomorrow and the rest by the end of the year. But I'm not paying it—not a nickel—not a red cent.

  FRED

  Not to worry. Twenty minutes and Barbara'll be in the Atlantic—or Poughkeepsie if the current ran upstream.

  JIM

  You don't understand, I—Fred—you didn't—

  FRED

  I was right about her, Jim, she takes her orders from another galaxy.

  JIM

  Fred, say it isn't so—

  FRED

  Don't worry—there's no way you can be linked to it.

  JIM

  Ohmigod.

  FRED

  Very clever. She had a computer chip implanted in her ear. She was part of a plan to enslave the Bronx.

  JIM

  I've got to get out of here.

  FRED

  If she's ever found, somewhere in the vast Atlantic—it'll look like a suicide—they'll never know one way or the other. You said yourself, a woman alone, recently lost her job.

  JIM

  You threw her in the Hudson River?

  FRED

  All that elaborate planning—it was bad writing. The best plots are the simplest. I was sitting on a bench, she walked by—we were both alone—it came to me in a moment of inspiration. That's the difference between us two—with you it would have been labored and overanalyzed. This is not real, that's not logical. To me it just felt right.

  JIM

  I'm going to be sick.

  FRED

  Hey look, forget about the royalties from our movie—and forget about collaborating—truth is, I don't really want to be a writer—I'd forgotten how tedious it is—it's lonel
y work, Jim— and I've had an offer to be part of the next Apollo team— they're talking about a manned mission to Alpha Centauri. But keep at your work—you're a good professional—although I would recommend eventually you find someone to team up with—there's no shame in collaborating—it's just that you're missing a part.

  JIM

  I'm in a state of shock.

  FRED

  Keep your eye on the stars, Jim. There's life on many of them—not that they necessarily mean us well. The object of the Apollo mission is to explore some of the trouble spots in the universe and deal with any eventuality that may occur— the President knows about it—we've discussed it at length … it's not all a bed of roses out there …

  (The cellular phone rings and Jim answers.)

  JIM

  (into phone)

  Hello? Lola—yes …I don't know what happened … we were disconnected …Oh no …I was about to say …I called because I miss you and I'll pick you up at work and we can walk home together …I love you …I love you … I—oh, Lola—

  (Exiting as Fred rants.)

  FRED

  I can actually make out some canals on Neptune—they could be decoys—what did we do to make them so angry at us? Nothing, you say? Think again … You're not the type for an extramarital affair—and be thankful—the price is too dear—love to Lola … Come in!

  FADE OUT

  WRITER'S BLOCK

  OLD SAYBROOK

  Curtain rises on a country home in Connecticut. A combination of American antiques and contemporary furnishings—perhaps a large stone fireplace—a staircase leading upstairs. Sheila and Norman, who live there, are hosting a barbecue out in the back. Sheila's sister, Jenny, and her husband, David, are the only guests. Sound of geese honking.

  Jenny, Sheila and Norman are fixing and/or refilling drinks while they make small talk prior to going out back to cook.

  SHEILA

  (looks out window and says wistfully)

  Look, Norman, the geese are back.

  NORMAN

  Spoken like the tragic heroine of a Russian play.

  JENNY

  I hate Russian plays. Nothing happens and they charge the same price as a musical.

  SHEILA

  To think that each year when the geese migrate south they pick our little pond to lay over at for a few days.

  NORMAN

  I told you Old Saybrook is becoming the in place.

  DAVID

  What do the geese tell us about the inscrutable magnificence of nature?

  SHEILA

  What?

  DAVID

  That one day we all must grow old and decay. That's the message in all of nature.

  JENNY

  That's easy for him to say, he's a plastic surgeon and that message is on his business card.

  SHEILA

  Your wife got you, David.

  DAVID

  (toasts)

  To the geese.

  JENNY

  Not the geese—to Norman and Sheila. Happy seventh anniversary.

  NORMAN

  Some of the happiest years of my life. Maybe two of them. Just joking.

  SHEILA

  Freud said there are no jokes.

  NORMAN

  (toasts)

  To Sigmund Freud—the poet of penis envy.

  DAVID

  And now, if you'll all excuse me, I'm going into the den to watch Tiger Woods—please don't disturb me until the steaks come off the barbecue.

  (Exits to den.)

  JENNY

  (exiting, to Sheila)

  I'll make more ice—it's one of the only things I learned in cooking school.

  DAVID

  (returning)

  Where are the pistachio nuts?

  SHEILA

  I don't know …

  DAVID

  I can't watch golf without pistachio nuts.

  SHEILA

  David.

  DAVID

  They must be red—red, salted pistachio nuts.

  SHEILA

  (exiting to kitchen)

  I have cashews—

  DAVID

  Cashews are basketball. Pistachios are golf.

  NORMAN

  David, just get out.

  (David exits into den.)

  I figured out what the geese symbolize. They symbolize impending disaster—the honking is a mating call and a mating call always spells trouble.

  (Bell rings.)

  NORMAN

  (calls out)

  Sheila, are you expecting anyone?

  SHEILA

  (returning to room)

  No.

  (They open the door and a comparable couple, Hal and Sandy Maxwell, stand there.)

  Yes?

  HAL

  Hello—I hope we're not disturbing you.

  SANDY

  (a bit embarrassed)

  This is silly, Hal.

  HAL

  I'm Hal Maxwell and this is my wife, Sandy. We were driving by and we don't want to intrude, but we used to live here.

  SHEILA

  Really?

  SANDY

  Yes—for nine years—we sold the place to a Mr. Krolian.

  HAL

  Max Krolian, a fairly well-known writer.

  NORMAN

  Sure—well, we've been here for about three years now. Norman Pollack—Sheila's my wife. Please—come in.

  SANDY

  We don't want to bother you. We've moved to New Jersey and we happened to be up here for one day antiquing and we were so close.

  SHEILA

  Please—come in. Have a look around. Feel free.

  NORMAN

  So you used to live here?

  SHEILA

  Can we offer you a drink?

  HAL

  Oh God—I would love one.

  SANDY

  You have to drive.

  (They have entered in deeper and look around.)

  SHEILA

  How does it look?

  HAL

  It brings back such memories.

  NORMAN

  What would you like?

  HAL

  What I would like is a single malt scotch but I will drink anything.

  NORMAN

  And you?

  SANDY

  Oh, just a tiny bit of white wine if you have it.

  NORMAN

  We have no white but our martinis are colorless.

  (Sandy laughs at Norman's joke.)

  HAL

  (at window)

  Whose idea was it to put in a swimming pool?

  NORMAN

  We did that.

  HAL

  What shape is it?

  NORMAN

  Amoeba—an amoeba … it's an amoeba-shaped pool.

  HAL

  Those little germs …

  SANDY

  Hal—

  (Jenny enters.)

  SHEILA

  Oh—Jenny—these are—

  HAL

  The Maxwells.

  SHEILA

  They used to live here.

  SANDY

  We just wanted to see the place again—we were married here.

  JENNY

  Oh—how sweet.

  HAL

  In that garden. Under a maple tree—now it's gone, there's a pool.

  SHEILA

  You hungry?

  SANDY

  No—

  HAL

  What are you telling them no, we're starved.

  NORMAN

  Well then, join us—we're barbecuing some steaks.

  SANDY

  No, we couldn't.

  HAL

  Er—medium rare.

  DAVID

  (emerges from den momentarily)

  Who came in? I heard the bell ring just as Tiger was about to putt. I think the noise made him miss.

  JENNY

  My husband—David, this is—

  HAL

  Hal and Sandy Maxwell—we used
to live here.

  DAVID

  Oh really? Where did you put the pistachio nuts?

  JENNY

  David, they got married here.

  DAVID

  Oh great. Do you play golf?

  HAL

  No.

  DAVID

  Um, terrific. We must play sometime.

  JENNY

  In the winter it's the Knicks, in the summer it's golf—talk about Freud—he loves to watch young men put balls in holes.

  (She goes.)

  HAL

  Hey—what happened to the beautiful floor that was here?

  NORMAN

  Oh, er—we redid it.

  HAL

  Redid the random planking? Why?

  NORMAN

  We wanted something smoother.

  SANDY

  (with a look to her husband)

  It's lovely—

  HAL

  This floor is the first spot we made love on—

  SANDY

  Hal—

  HAL

  —right here—where the coffee table is. It was smooth enough for us.

  SANDY

  Hal—

  SHEILA

  Er—that's very romantic.

  HAL

  I think so. Sandy gets shy. It was a memorable moment. Particularly since we were both married to different people at the time.

  SANDY

  Hal!

  SHEILA

  Oh goodness.

  HAL

  Don't get the wrong impression. We were drunk, here alone, there was an electrical storm, all the lights went out—suddenly the room was illuminated by a flash of lightning and I saw Sandy, her lips full, her hair wild from the intense humidity— she beckoned me to her with the ever increasing promise of sexual adventure.

  SHEILA

  What do you do, Mr. Maxwell?

  HAL

  Hal. I'm an accountant. See—her face fell.

  SHEILA

  What?

  HAL

  You figured me for a poet, right? I don't seem the type to be crunching numbers for a business firm—do I?

  SHEILA

  I don't know—accountants can be poetic. You should see some of our tax returns.

  HAL

  I feel there's more in me but I just don't have the courage.

  SANDY

  Hal would like to write the great American novel.

  HAL

  Play, Sandy, play—not novel. Although I have written a few poems about the dangers of cholesterol. Sonnets.

  SANDY

  Did you know Mr. Krolian, the former owner?

  NORMAN

  Only by reputation.

  HAL

  I met him once when we sold the place. I tried to talk to him— he was a difficult man to communicate with—but a very clever writer.

  NORMAN

  Excuse me. I better go help her sister, Jenny—whenever she tries to light the barbecue we wind up on the six o'clock news. (He goes.)

  SANDY

  What does your husband do, Mrs.—

  SHEILA