by Eric Lane
WENDELL: You didn't pay close enough attention, Eric. You have to listen to every single word.
ERIC: What?
WENDELL: I didn't say the gun was in my drawer.
(Another quick beat, but this time ERIC is much too far away. WENDELL pulls open ERIC'S desk drawer and pulls out a gun. He points it at ERIC'S head.)
ERIC: Dude, what the fuck?
WENDELL: You're not leaving, Eric.
ERIC: That is not real.
WENDELL: Listen to me—
ERIC: That is not real, man. Is that real? That is not real. Is that loaded?
WENDELL: Who knows? That wasn't in the given circumstances of the brain teaser. You can only work with what you have. So. What now?
ERIC: Quit fucking around, man. I'm sorry, all right? Just tell me what to do. I'll do anything you say, just tell me what to do.
WENDELL: You were about to leave, Eric, you've obviously got it all figured out. You don't need me to teach you anything. What's the solution? How do you get through the door? Huh? What do you think you can—
(Suddenly, ERIC grabs his hockey stick from where it leans against the wall by the closet. He swings it with incredible precision and knocks the gun from WENDELL 'S hand. A brief moment of stunned motionless silence from both of them as the new circumstances are absorbed. Then ERIC charges, stick held out in front of him body-check style, and slams
WENDELL up against the front door. He punches WENDELL in the stomach, WENDELL drops to theground, where ERIC kicks him several times.)
(A silence. Both of them are breathing hard. WENDELL curls up into a ball. ERIC throws his stick away, and looks around for the gun. He picks it up from the floor where it fell, and hefts it, curiously. He finds a plug in the “cartridge” and pulls it out. Water spills onto the floor. WENDELL sees.ERIC puts the water gun down.)
WENDELL: (weakly, with a rueful chuckle) Blam. (Pause.) Nice slap-shot.
ERIC: I'm an All-American wing. (Pause.) Wendell. Wendell, I… uh … You shouldn't have done that, man. You didn't need to, uh … to do that.
(ERIC sits, not sure what to do. A long pause. Breathing. At last…)
Wendell? WENDELL: Mhm.
ERIC: So … uh … what's the answer? To the thing with the light-bulbs?
WENDELL: Are you kidding me?
ERIC: No. Tell me. What's the answer? Just explain it to me.
WENDELL: You turn on two of the switches for a few minutes. Then you turn one of them off, and go into the other room. One of the bulbs will be on, easy. But this way you can also figure out which of the other two was on before you came in.
Because you feel it. And it's warm.
(They stare at each other, ERIC down at the floor, and WENDELL up from it. Fade to black.)
THE MOON PLEASE
Diana Son
The Moon Please premiered as part of Brave New World (J. Dakota Powell, Producing Artistic Director) at Town Hall, New York City on September n, 2002. Christopher Smith directed the following cast:
CIEL Gloria Reuben
JAY Frank Wood
CHARACTERS
CIEL: (pronounced “seel”) Mid to late thirties.
JAY: Mid to late thirties.
SETTING: A small one-bedroom apartment in New York City. The only physical set piece needed is a door. A few props the actors need to put their hands on: a couple ties, Ciel's bag, a breast pump, Jay's bag.
TIME: The morning, September 11, 2001.
(JAY walks in as CIEL looks through a stack of papers.)
CIEL: I'm missing a page. I'm—(Riffles through report.) The page with the pie chart. It should be right here.
JAY: What color is this tie?
CIEL: I can't go in there without that page. You know how Schaefer is, he's gotta have his visual—goddamnit, I can't believe this is happening to me today. (Notices JAY's tie.) Brown. It doesn't go.
JAY: This tie is brown?
CIEL: Yes.
JAY: It's not blue?
CIEL: NO. (JAY stares at the tie, willing it to turn blue.) Wear your maroon tie … the one with the squiggly stripes. (Riffling again.) Fuck!
JAY: Just print another copy, honey, it doesn't have to be—
CIEL: I can't print it out. The baby's been sleeping so lightly lately and our shitty little printer makes such a fucking rack—
JAY: She's gotta get used to our noises. Remember what the doctor said? I mean, this is a one-bedroom apartment. We've all gotta share the space.
CIEL: I know that but I just can't deal with her being awake when I leave and I have to leave in … (checks watch) ten minutes at the latest. Can you wait until Georgia gets here?
JAY: What time is she supposed to come?
CIEL: (checks watch) Twenty minutes ago.
JAY: I can't be late to my interview—I mean, they're not gonna hire someone who can't even come to the interview on time. Maybe you should call her.
CIEL: What time's your interview?
JAY: Nine.
CIEL: What about my pie chart?
JAY: Print it at the office.
CIEL: I forgot to pack my pump. (Heading for the kitchen.) We're not meeting at the office. We're doing the pitch at a conference room in—
JAY: (leaving for the bedroom) You better call Georgia.
(CIEL returns to the living room and picks up the phone.)
CIEL: Be quiet when you're in there, please.
(JAY passes into the bedroom, which is just another part of the stage. We see him gingerly take down a tie and freeze when he hears the baby stir.)
(As she dials.) It's just that it took me forty-five minutes of nursing to get her down. (Touching them.) My nipples feel like I've been rubbing them against a cheese gra—(into phone) Hey—what are you still doing home? It's 8:20, you said you'd be here twe—(Silence as CIEL listens. At the same time, we see JAY peer into the baby 's bassinet and watch her breathe —as if it were possible the next breath won 't come.) Georgia … It's going to take you half an hour just to get here. I have to be all the way downtown by nine o'—(She drops the phone [still holding it] and covers her eyes. She puts it to her ear again. Meanwhile, JAY can 't resist the temptation to touch the baby ever so slightly, to establish a connection without waking her.) I can't believe you. This is my first day back at work! I have to pitch to the client in front of my boss who you know is just looking for the chance tofire my new mother ass. How can you do this to me, Georgia? To my family?! I'm the only one making any money, what are we gonna do if I get fi—(Sees JAY reenter with the new tie. Doesn 't pursue this line of thinking.) You are totally irresponsible. I can't—no, forget it, I'm so pissed at you, I don't—no, I don't even want you to come. Stay in your fucking bed—(She slams down the phone. JAY waits for her to make the first move.) She's with some guy she met at a party— they've been fucking all night…
(JAY does not immediately respond. It 's been about five months since he and CIEL have had any kind of sex. He can 't show it, but it sounds kinda great to him.)
JAY: Oh.
CIEL: His dick was still inside her until about fifteen minutes ago. I can't believe her.
JAY: I guess that's what we get for not hiring a real babysitter.
CIEL: YOU don't think it's better for the baby that we have a friend, someone we know and trust, to stay with her? Instead of some stranger—
JAY: A stranger might be here right now. (CIEL doesn 't want to start this now. She heads back to the kitchen to get her pump.) So, is she coming? Over?
CIEL: No! I don't know.
JAY: Ciel, we're never gonna be able to move out of this one-bedroom apartment unless I get a job and start making some—
CIEL: (turning around) I wasn't volunteering you to stay home, Jay.
JAY: … You 're gonna stay home? (Long silence.) Fuck it, I'll blow off my interview.
CIEL: That's not what I'm saying, Jay. I know how anxious you are to get back to work.
JAY: I think she's starting to notice me. Lately. You know what I mean
? (CIEL doesn 't know the right response —) For the first couple of months I felt like all she cared about was breastfeeding, breastfeeding, breastfeeding … and, like, I was just some guy who couldn't get a job and was hanging around being mommy's helper. But lately … I can tell that she, like … I don't know, maybe knows who I am.
CIEL: Are you saying you want to stay home with her? Be a stay-at-home dad? Because that would be even better than—
JAY: I don't know. It's a big commitment, I gotta … it depends what happens at this interview—which I'm lucky to even have … there're so few computer jobs right now.
(CIEL heads for the phone.)
CIEL: I'll call Georgia back. Tell her to haul her ass here in a cab, I'll call Shaefer on his cell phone, tell him I'll be a few minutes late, but that I'll definitely be—
JAY: No, you go. (CIEL stops dialing.) It's more important that you be there on time. It's your first day back. If you're late, Shae-fer's gonna leap to all kinds of conclusions, about how you're not committed to the job—
(CIEL stuffs the report in her bag and picks up her keys.)
CIEL: If I leave now I can print my pie chart at the client's office.
JAY: What floor are they on?
CIEL: The two hundred seventy-fifth, or something like … I have it—(She fishes through her purse for her datebook.)
JAY: They only go up to one hundred ten.
CIEL: When I was at NYU, they had these old-fashioned elevators in Main building that were operated by this incredibly grumpy—he wasn't even old—man. The elevators could fit like thirty people and you had to shout over everyone's headswhat floor you wanted: seven, please; eleven please; thirteen … And somebody would inevitably say “the moon, please.” Typical freshman humor … but sweet, really Whenever I'm in the towers, I think about that. I want to say it. “The moon, please.” (Finds her datebook.) Ninety-fifth floor. I'll call Adler's assistant on my way and tell her I need her to print something out. (She slams the datebook shut and kisses JAY on the lips.) Thank you, honey. Good luck on your interview. I'll call you after lunch. (As she opens the door.) I'll call Georgia right now!
JAY: (indicating the baby) Sssh!
(CIEL cowers, reprimanded. She waves good-bye and leaves. JAY heads for the phone and dials. CIEL walks back in.)
CIEL: I forgot the pump.
JAY: (into phone, tentative) Hi Kathy, this is Jay Coleman, I have a nine A.M. interview with you and I'm going to be a few minutes late. Sorry for the inconvenience … okay, thank you. Bye.
(CIEL returns from the kitchen with the pump on her shoulder. She pats it and smiles at jAY as she passes through. He hangs up the phone. She waves at JAY as she puts her hand on the doorknob.)
CIEL: (whispering) Bye again.
JAY: You look happy.
(CIEL swings the door open, then turns to look at JAY. She closes the door then walks closer to him.)
CIEL: What?
JAY: What?
CIEL: (on edge) What did you say?
JAY: You look happy. You look psyched to be going to work.
CIEL: What do you mean by that?
JAY: (shrugs) …. What I said.
CIEL: I look happy to be going to work?
JAY: Yeah, you—what's wrong with that?
CIEL: Are you saying you don't think I have conflicted feelings about going back to work?
JAY: No, I… Do you?
(CIEL steps closer to prevent her from yelling.)
CIEL: Jay … I think I'm going to kill you. How dare you accuse me of—
JAY: Accuse —
CIEL: Our daughter's not even three months old yet! She can't even totally hold her head up. She's still half moosh and I have to leave her for ten hours a day! You think I want to go back to work?
JAY: I don't know. I've never heard you say you didn 't want—
CIEL: How can I… You say it as if— … You don't have a job, Jay. How can I even fantasize about staying home with her when you're not bringing in any—
JAY: How am I supposed to make any money if I can't even go to a job interview on time. I mean, how long do you think we're gonna all be able to live together in this tiny apartment? We can't afford to move to a two-bedroom on your salary. At least not in the city, which you insist we stay in.
(CIEL slams down her bag.)
(CIEL: Go to your interview. JAY: Yeah, right.
CIEL: Go. Fucking go. I'd love to quit my job. I'll call Shaefer right now—tell him to fucking pitch to a client without me.
Without my goddamn pie chart. (JAY can 't tell whether to take her seriously.) Go to your interview, Jay.
(After a pause.
JAY: All right. (He slowly gathers his stuff as CIEL watches. Maybe looking for a watch that he 's already wearing.) Are you gonna call Georgia—
CIEL: Don't worry about it. JAY: Because if she can—
CIEL: Maybe I'll call her, maybe I'll stay with the baby myself. Maybe I'll get fired, maybe Shaefer will be completely sympathetic. Who knows?
(JAY goes to kiss her before he leaves.)
JAY: I'll see you later.
(CIEL watches him walk to the door. He opens it —then leaves. CIEL exhales. Thinks a beat. Her mind races —what has she gotten herself into? She starts for the phone —then stops. She walks into the bedroom and looks at the baby. She picks her up gingerly, desperately hoping not to wake her —and rests her against her shoulder. CIEL turns to the baby and inhales her scent deeply. As if it were an elixir. Then, she sees JAY come back into the apartment. She eases the baby off her shoulder and with kabuki-slowness, lowers her back into the bassinet. Makes sure the baby doesn 't wake then walks into the living room.)
CIEL: Jay … ?
JAY: I'm sorry, you're right. It was totally insensitive of me to accuse you of not feeling ambivalent about going back to work.
(Slight pause.)
CIEL: Okay …(?)
JAY: You have worked so hard to get to your position and you deserve to come back with a bang. Show Shaefer and all hismisogynistic cronies they can fuck off—yes you're a mother but you're also the most kickass vice president they have. (Long pause. CIEL doesn 't move. JAY starts to take off his tie and shoes.) How many ounces of milk do we have in the freezer? I think I saw at least five or six of those bags and those are each eight ounces. That'll get us through the day. How much do you think you'll pump this afternoon?
CIEL: … I don't know.
JAY: You'll be able to do it in the bathroom, right? Or your office—that might be better. More private. Do you know where the Bjorn is? It's such a beautiful day, I was thinking of taking the baby out to the park. Maybe even see if she likes the swing—
CIEL: You're forcing me to go to work.
JAY: (now he 's mad) What!?
CIEL: You're, like, pushing me out the door. And you have the nerve to talk about what a great day you're going to have with the baby while I'm locked in my office with two plastic cones clamped to my breast—hoping I don't leak breast milk all over my—
JAY: Ciel, you should have seen your face light up when you were walking out the door knowing you were going to work all day.
CIEL: Jay, just because you're too scared or, or, or … laz—
JAY: You're worried that all your new mommy friends are going to think you're a terrible mother just because you like to work, but face it, Ciel, you're a workaholic. You love it.
CIEL: (rage causing volume) How dare you fucking tell me I love to work. I have to work—
JAY: (simultaneous) The status, the power—
CIEL: This is the third job interview you've blown off.
JAY: Even when I had a job you were working all the time. You didn't even want to take the full three months off—!
(Their voices rise recklessly.)
CIEL: That was before I had the baby—
JAY: Oh, so, what? You've had a personality transplant since you gave birth?
CIEL: You don't think giving birth is a transformative—
JAY: You've been working this whole time from home! You've been preparing this pitch for months!
CIEL: It's my account! I've been kissing this client's ass since the new year!
JAY: (simultaneous) You just couldn't stomach the idea of Shaefer giving Grace Chan this account.
CIEL: Grace Chan couldn't deliver this account if it was a pep-peroni pizza. I did all the leg work, I developed the relationships, and I deserve the goddamn commission—
JAY: So, go!
(After a pause, CIEL grabs her bag and hooks it onto her shoulder.)
CIEL: (calmly) I am the youngest person in my position. I am the only woman, the only person of color and I got where I am because my work is excellent. Just… let me nail this account and … and then we'll—
(The baby starts to cry. CIEL and JAY both look at each other. Then, they both start for the room.)
JAY: I'll get her—
CIEL: No, I'll get her.
(They stop.)
JAY: If you pick her up, she's going to freak out when you leave. (A cellphone rings.) That's your phone.
CIEL: What time is it?
JAY: 8:35. If you take a cab, you could be there before nine.
(CIEL looks atjay then continues toward the baby 's room. The cellphone continues ringing. She picks up the baby and nestles her into her chest. The baby wails harder. She can feel the tension.)
CIEL: Okay, it's okay Sshhhh … (As CIEL relaxes, the baby 's cries settle into more of a whine.) Thatta girl. Mama's here. (CIEL looks up at JAY, whose concern for the baby is stronger than any anger he may feel. CIEL lowers her bag off her shoulder. She exhales and looks up —there 's so much to lose —She rests her head against the baby 's and looks JAY.) Mama's gonna stay.
MY RED HAND, MY BLACK HAND
Dael Orlandersmith
My Red Hand, My Black Hand was commissioned by Long Wharf Theatre, New Haven, Connecticut, and given its world premiere presentation there on October 10, 2001.
It was directed by Sarah Peterson; the set design was by Frank Alberino; the costume design was by Stacey Galloway; the production stage manager was Tracey J. Yang. The cast was as follows:
DAUGHTER: Mary Hodges
FATHER Jack Burning