by Eric Lane
FRANCES: That's lovely.
JOSH: For a lie, you mean.
FRANCES: Well, maybe it's a lie we need.
JOSH: I do, I guess. I need it.
(Beat.)
See, the big discoveries—gravity, particle theory, chaos, DNA—they place us. They put us in the physical world. But they're just descriptions. Of our physical properties. Our propensities. What we're capable of—what's possible, what we've already accomplished, I mean how do you—first I thought, well, fucking, of course. Sexual congress. For themto see how we do it and how much we like to do it. But, fucking causes so much confusion and anxiety. And what if they interpret two figures expressing their ardor as some kind of cruel rite? And the truth is, fucking doesn't last, anyhow. And then what about madness, disorders of the mind, bodies that aren't whole?
(Beat.)
I should just tell them to be human is to impose yourself on the world. This is how I see it, so this is how it is.
FRANCES: (A beat.) Or—you could take this grant money and give it away to actual people. So they could eat, go to school, and maybe collectively expand and redefine the concept of what it is to be human.
JOSH: Okay, sister, listen, didn't I give up my beautiful SUV when you were on your moral imperative not to drive big gas-guzzling automobiles thus entrenching us in a relationship with oil-producing nations and consequently undermining what we tout to be our own unique position of being free in the world?
FRANCES: I was quoting. I didn't come up with that myself, which is disturbing, but I don't always see how things fit, and I'm always completely thrown to learn there's this relationship between a simple thing like buying a car or a carton of milk and the decline of civilization.
JOSH: Well, just put your two cents in about this, would you. And help me out here. Is it sentimental to think there is anything we have in common with everyone else on earth?
FRANCES: I don't know. I mean, what everyone wants to know is, who am I going to be. And then who am I going to be with who'll make it not so terrible to be me. And if you have children, who are they going to be and who are they going to be with and how do I keep them safe.
(Beat.)
You know, maybe the story of one person is all they need to know about us.
JOSH: Where the hell are you?
FRANCES: In my tent.
JOSH: YOU are not in any kind of a tent.
FRANCES: In my tent outside of my room at the motel. You don't think I'd really pee in the open, do you? You should go outside. It is an alarmingly beautiful night.
JOSH: I can't.
FRANCES: Did you open my letter yet?
JOSH: (avoiding) I just haven't had a chance—
FRANCES: I know you're carrying it around in your pocket and it's getting smushed and I need you to read it.
JOSH: I know you want me to read it, Frances. So it must be important. And that, of course, brings up my morbid fear of important letters.
FRANCES: Josh.
JOSH: And I don't really have the time right now.
FRANCES: (retreating) Okay.
JOSH: I'm in over my head with this thing.
FRANCES: Look, if they have a sense of humor, they'll see the irony. Or they'll receive it like the French do when you try to speak in their language.
(A beat.)
Tell me—show me what you've got so far.
JOSH: (a moment) All right. But, just—you know, I'm still working on it.
(After a moment, as a kind of living slide show, an actor steps forward from another part of the stage and stands with arms outstretched.)
That we're—incomplete. That we long for. That we miss our chances. And we're born to repeat: If only. If only!
(A second actor comes forward to join the first. They join hands.)
FRANCES: (acknowledging what she sees) How it is to hold someone else's life in your own.
(Beat.)
Can you add a dog? I think we need them, somehow.
(One of the actors holds the other in his arms, as if that person were wounded or ailing, in need.)
JOSH: That we're moved. That we can meet another person's sorrow or subjugation with an answering cry and a wish to make it better. Not because we're thinking, “That could be me” but because that is me.
(Beat.)
You know, if you put a group of six-month-old babies in a room and one starts to cry, pretty soon they all start crying. They can't differentiate. They are all one living, breathing, wailing, sobbing, suffering being.
(Another actor comes forward and joins them. They stand still, as their faces show different reactions to something we don't see.)
The chemistry of the brain changes with certain events. Once you witness an atrocity—or hear a cruel remark. When you cause the disappointment in someone's eyes. Or see an act of courage. There's a shift. Now your brain's accommodating this new information. You're still pulled to the earth by gravity. And your blood type is still O positive. But what happens to other people is placing itself in your cells. It resides in you now. And you're not the same. It changes you forever.
(The actors move to the rear of the stage, where they sit.)
FRANCES: Come outside. Be with me, tonight.
(After a moment, he walks “outside.” They both stand under a starry sky. JOSH looks up toward the heavens, addressing the unknown civilizations.)
JOSH: Okay, I have some questions for you. Do you have pets? Do you marry? Is there gender? Does it matter to you if another of your species, group, tribe, community, has different markings? Do you have prisons? Are you kind? Do you sleep? Do you have mothers?
FRANCES: (Joins in speaking out to the universe.) This is who we are! Hurtling through time, tumbling, stretching, moving through time to what we're meant to be—this is us, becoming!
(Beat—to JOSH.)
Please open the envelope.
JOSH: (a moment) Fine. (He retrieves the letter from his pocket and opens it.) I see something that looks like a house. And little stick figures in crayon.
FRANCES: The other side.
(He turns it over and starts to read out loud.)
JOSH: The last will and testament of—(as he realizes what it is) my one and only mother! Jesus. I don't want to see this. I don't want to think about it.
FRANCES: Well, you have to. JOSH: Why?
FRANCES: You're my executor, beneficiary, and medical proxy. And when you have children—
JOSH: Would you please—with the children.
FRANCES: It could happen.
JOSH: Are you all right? Should I be worried? I'm worried.
FRANCES: I'm fine. It's just something a person has to do. I'm all right.
(A beat. As JOSH looks over the will. And turns it over.)
JOSH: SO, what's this drawing?
FRANCES: Something you did as a child. You drew a house. Next to other houses. Because you said our house needs those other houses. So you drew a house. With people inside. Small people. And big people to take care of them, to give them an example, to accompany them on their way.
(Beat.)
What makes us human is other humans.
(A moment.)
JOSH: (to audience) After my mother dies, some years from now, and I've married my first wife all over again. And a simple child's drawing has gone into space—I tell my daughter the story of one person. Walking. Looking at things. Listening to other people's stories. Wanting to know.
(He turns back to her. They are on their phones again.)
FRANCES: I love you, Josh. I love you so much.
(The slide of JOSH 'S childhood drawing goes up.)
OTHER ACTORS: (Each speaks a line in turn.) In Wonder. In Awe. In Loss. In Gratitude. In Sympathy. In Release. In Pain. In Honor of. In Memory. In Celebration. In Mourning. In Difficulty In our Stumble and Fall. In each Attempt. In Remission. In Rapture. In the Beginning. In the End. In IT.
JOSH: (beat) I love you, too, Mom.
(The light narrows to frame the drawing. Unti
l, lights fade.)
Slide 1
DUTIL-DRUMS
Slide 2
PIONEER 10 and 11
Slide 3
ARECIBO
Slide 4
CHILD'S DRAWING
IT'S NOT YOU
Craig Pospisil
It's Not You was originally produced by Atrainproductions (Lawrence Feeney, Executive Producer) at the Neighborhood Playhouse in New York City on September 13, 2002. It was directed by Marie-Louise Miller, and the cast was as follows:
NATALIE: Nancy Wu
TERRY: Traci Thoms
AMBER: Alexandra Wijkman
JOHN: Jamie Bennett
AUTHOR'S NOTE: It's Not You was written during the length of a ride on New York's A train subway as part of theAtrainplays, a twenty-four-hour theatre project. The characters of Natalie and Terry are Asian and black, respectively, because the parts were written specifically for the actors who first played them. The parts could, however, be played by white actors, just as the parts of Amber and John could be played by Asian, black, or Hispanic actors. I feel the characters could be from any racial background, and I encourage race-blind casting wherever appropriate in my work.
(A NewYork City subway car. A young Asian woman, NATALIE:, stares open-mouthed at her three friends, AMBER: and JOHN: a married couple, and TERRY:, a young black woman. AMBER: is six or seven months pregnant.)
(AMBER, JOHN, and TERRY: regard NATALIE: with a mixture of sympathy and sadness.)
NATALIE: What?
TERRY: We're really sorry.
AMBER: Yes, really.
NATALIE: What the hell are you talking about?
JOHN: It's just… it's over.
NATALIE: The three of you are … “breaking up” with me? And on the subway?
TERRY: We're going different directions.
NATALIE: We're all going downtown.
AMBER: You know what we mean.
NATALIE: No. No, I don't. I mean, first of all, we're friends. It's not like I'm dating any of you. So, how can you break up with me?
JOHN: Friends drift apart.
TERRY: It happens all the time.
NATALIE: Yeah, friends drift apart, but they generally don't announce they never want to see you again.
AMBER: Sometimes they do. Like if they have a big fight.
NATALIE: But we haven't had any fights. This is crazy.
JOHN: Look, we know this is hard for you, Natalie. It's hard on us too. None of us wanted this to happen.
NATALIE: So, why is it happening? And why are you telling me on the train?
TERRY: Because we didn't want this to be some long, drawn out thing.
AMBER: Yeah, you know. Dragging on over weeks and weeks.
JOHN: This way it's over quickly. By the time we get to West 4thStreet.
NATALIE: Why West 4th?
TERRY: We're having dinner in the Village.
NATALIE: And I'm not invited?!
AMBER: Haven't you been listening?
JOHN: Hey, now, honey, take it easy on her. We knew this would be hard, but we said we wouldn't get angry.
AMBER: Oh, shut up!
JOHN: Amber!
AMBER: Well, you try and stay calm when you're pregnant and you've got sixty gallons of hormones running through your body.
TERRY: Guys, we're getting a little sidetracked here. And Amber, I really think you should be sitting down.
AMBER: Oh, thank you, Terry. You're such a good friend. I just know John and I made the right choice.
NATALIE: Hey! I'm a good friend! Amber, when you lost your job last year, who was on the phone with you for, like, hours every day?
JOHN: Natalie, it's not a question of you being a good friend or not. This was a hard decision, and we went back and forth. Agonized over it. Look, it's not you. It's us.
NATALIE: I don't understand. Amber, we've been friends forever. I was your maid of honor.
AMBER: I know, I know. It's heartbreaking. (Slight pause.) What was that last stop?
JOHN: 42nd Street.
TERRY: Oh, good. Just a few more stops.
NATALIE: No! Tell me why you're doing this!
TERRY: Natalie, you're an amazingly wonderful person. Really. But… we want different things.
NATALIE: The three of you?
JOHN: We just feel like you're out there pursuing your options, focused on your career, … and we're in a different phase of our lives.
NATALIE: Well, you and Amber are, but where does she fit in?
AMBER: Don't make this about Terry. It's about all of us.
JOHN: Yeah, and it's not your fault. You didn't do anything.
NATALIE: I must've done something if you don't want to see me anymore.
TERRY: NO, no. Look, things change. Maybe some people are just meant to spend a certain amount of time in each other's lives and then move on. That's just natural.
NATALIE: (slight pause) That's such bullshit.
AMBER: No, she's right. People come in and out of each other's lives all the time. (Slight pause.) Are we only at 34th?
NATALIE: Stop counting the stops!
TERRY: Don't fight it. It'll all be over soon.
NATALIE: Oh, yeah? Well, you can't dump me if I stop the train and we never get there.
(NATALIE: marches over to the emergency brake cord at one end of the sub way car. She reaches for the cord, but JOHN grabs her and wrestles her away, sitting her down on the bench.)
JOHN: Don't take this so hard. You'll find other friends.
TERRY: Yeah, you'll have lots of friends. You're young.
NATALIE: (bursting into tears) But why? What did I do? I don't understand! Why?
AMBER: Because you're boring!!
(Silence.)
NATALIE: What?
AMBER: You're boring. All you ever want to do is go to the same restaurants and the same cafes. We've eaten at the same six places on the Upper West Side fifty times each. And when we go to the movies all you want to see are those stupid romantic comedies. Never a thriller. “Too scary.” No action films. “Too violent.” No foreign movies. “I don't like reading subtitles.” There's no variety. You never want to get away for some ski weekend or time at the beach. You're stuck in your routine. You need to break out, take more chances. You're a wonderful person, intelligent and funny, patient and loving. Anyone would be lucky to have you for a friend … but my God, you're boring!!
(Silence.)
NATALIE: What happened to “It's not you. It's us” ?
AMBER: We lied.
JOHN: Oh, no, now come on, Amber. We said we weren't going to do it this way.
AMBER: Well, it has to get done, and we're almost at 14th Street.
NATALIE: You're really planning to just get off the train and leave me?
TERRY: We have dinner reservations at eight.
NATALIE: You're dumping me and then going to dinner? Where?
TERRY: Does that really matter?
NATALIE: It matters to me.
JOHN: Don't make this any harder.
NATALIE: Are you going to that Moroccan restaurant you always wanted to try?
JOHN: It's not about where we eat. NATALIE: Then where are you going?
TERRY: Don't.
NATALIE: Where?!
AMBER: We're going to the Moroccan place, okay? Are you happy now?
NATALIE: (pause) Have you gone there before?
JOHN: (pause) Yeah. A couple of times.
NATALIE: Oh my God! Why? Why?! I would've tried Moroccan food!
TERRY: It's spicy. You know you can't take spicy food.
NATALIE: Yeah, well, you have lousy table manners.
TERRY: What?
NATALIE: You talk with your mouth full. You slouch and put your elbows on the table. (To JOHN and AMBER.) Keep me. I'm better than her.
JOHN: Natalie, please don't make this harder than it is. Don't cry. We just need to make a change. With the baby on the way we only have room in our lives for one close friend.
NAT
ALIE: But why her?
AMBER: Do I have to repeat the whole “you're boring” speech?
NATALIE: But I'm not boring.
TERRY: (slightpause) Natalie, what did you do last Saturday night?
NATALIE: (pause) I ordered in Chinese food and rented a movie.
JOHN: What movie?
NATALIE: Sleepless in Seattle.
TERRY: And the Saturday before that?
NATALIE: When Harry Met Sally.
JOHN: See?
NATALIE: But I can be different. I can change. I'll watch whatever movies you want.
TERRY: We don't want you to change. We want you to be yourself and be happy.
JOHN: And we hope you'll wish the same for us.
NATALIE: Yeah? Well, I don't! I hope you fucking choke on your Moroccan food!
(NATALIE: stomps over to the door of the subway car.)
JOHN: Where are you going? This is only 14th Street.
NATALIE: I'm not riding this train a second longer if I'm not wanted.
(She darts off the train and disappears. The others sigh, shake their heads, and sit down together.)
AMBER: Well, that was unpleasant.
JOHN: How did you expect her to take it?
TERRY: I thought she'd have a little more grace.
(There is a pause.)
AMBER: You know, I don't think my stomach's up for Moroccan food anymore.
JOHN: No?
AMBER: No. Would you mind if we just went home and ordered some Chinese?
JOHN: Of course, of course. Whatever you want, sweetie. TERRY: Wait… I thought we were going out.
AMBER: I know, but with the baby and all…
JOHN: You understand, right?
TERRY: But I was really looking forward to going out. I mean, I could've had a date tonight.
AMBER: We're sorry. Another night.
JOHN: Next weekend.
TERRY: Well, I guess I don't have a choice. Thanks a lot, guys!
(They get up and move to the doors as the train arrives at West 4tth Street. The train stops and
TERRY: exits first. JOHN: and AMBER: pause for a moment and look at each other. JOHN: shakes his head.)
JOHN: Natalie would've understood.
AMBER: Yeah, I miss her.
(THEY EXIT. END OF PLAY.)
KITTY THE WAITRESS