by Eric Lane
IRIT: Simple, I'm your grandfather. I'm sitting in the living room waiting for you to come home. You come in and I confront you with it.
ZAK: That's a stupid idea.
IRIT: It's not a stupid idea. Let's try it. (She breaks into the character of Grandfather. She picks up the newspaper in her hand.) What is this? What is a grandson of mine doing something like this?
ZAK: Oh, come on, Irit.
IRIT: What's a grandson of mine doing something like this?
ZAK: Granddad, they picked me. They selected me into this unit. It's an honor. (IRIT huffs.) Hear me out.
IRIT: Do you know how the Germans justified what they did?
ZAK: HOW could you make such a comparison?
IRIT: They were innocent children.
ZAK: Innocent children grow up to be not so innocent adults.
IRIT: And you ask me how I can make such a comparison? (IRIT now threatens him with the newspaper in his face.)
ZAK: Put that down. I love you.
IRIT: Don't you think those kids had parents—and grandparents who loved them?
ZAK: I'm protecting you, so you can sit in your garden and read your books, and your daily newspaper. And if I have to do what I do to do that, that's the price for your freedom.
IRIT: Rubbish. You tell yourself that. You tell yourself that so you can do what you do. Your father and I didn't raise you that way. You're from an educated family. We respect human life. We want peace with the Arabs. We have ethics.
ZAK: What good did all your books and humanist ideals do for you in Europe? Did Goethe stop your mother and father from dying in the gas chambers?
IRIT: How dare you bring them into this. Who do you think you are?
ZAK: Irit, I don't wanna do this anymore.
IRIT: You didn't answer my question. ZAK: C'mon, Irit. That's enough.
IRIT: I did not bring my son to Israel only for him to give birth to an assassin.
ZAK: And yet, Irit, you don't think there's anything wrong with killing a kid, do you?
IRIT: I abhor the murder of children.
ZAK: Irit thinks it's okay to shoot young Palestinians.
IRIT: Well, who's Irit?
ZAK: The woman who wrote the article.
IRIT: Are you mixed up with her?
ZAK: Yeah, sort of.
IRIT: This girl of yours, is she pretty?
ZAK: Beautiful.
IRIT: Were you intimate with her?
ZAK: Kind of. (IRIT reads the name of the journalist off the paper.)
IRIT: (Reads aloud.) Irit Yerushalmi. What kind of a name is Yerushalmi?
ZAK: Moroccan.
IRIT: Did this Moroccan of yours put you up to this?
ZAK: My grandfather is not a racist.
IRIT: (Keeps going.) They hate the Arabs. (Beat.) Is it because of this Moroccan that you justify the murder of children?
ZAK: YOU know all the people in my unit are white. I'm sure you've read that in your newspaper.
IRIT: Tell me about this Irit.
ZAK: Well, she's beautiful. And she's smart.
IRIT: Do you want to have a family with her?
ZAK: I don't know.
IRIT: Why don't you know?
ZAK: Well, there are some things that bother me.
IRIT: Like?
ZAK: Like, I wonder if she thought it was a good thing to write that article—if she considers my job the right thing. Did she write that article to brag about some hero? I'm no hero.
IRIT: (Breaks character.) Let's go back to my place and make love.
ZAK: Grandfather, this thing is killing me.
IRIT: Do you want me or not?
ZAK: HOW could I be with someone like that?
IRIT: Someone like you?
ZAK: Would she raise our children to kill children?
IRIT: (Gathers her things.) I'm leaving.
ZAK: Are you ashamed of me, Granddad? This isn't how you taught me to live. I should be sitting next to you reading in your garden instead of fighting in a bar with a woman who preys on the pain of others, and prints it in the paper for everyone to read. How could I love a woman like that?
IRIT: Look, all I did was show you the truth. If you don't like it, that's your problem.
ZAK: 'm going to ask for a court-martial. IRIT: You're out of your mind.
ZAK: And at the trial, I hope that you will tell the truth. (Beat.) You will, won't you?
IRIT: Or we could just make love. ZAK: I could face my grandfather again.
IRIT: I can't believe this is happening. You're gonna dump me because of him.
ZAK: (beat) I should be grateful to you. IRIT: For what?
ZAK: What you wrote. It was a good article. Told the truth. Made people think.
IRIT: Zak.
ZAK: It made me think. So, thanks.
(ZAK reaches to shake IRIT ' S hand, but IRIT will not take it. She turns and exits. ZAK watches her walk away. He tucks the newspaper in his back pocket and exits. Blackout.)
SPACE
Donald Margulies
Space was commissioned and first presented by New Writers at the Westside, in New York City, in June, 1986. It was directed by Chris Silva. The cast was as follows:
MAN (A) Dennis Boutsikaris
MAN (B) John Griesemer
(Two men, A and B, in their mid-thirties. Late at night, after eating, drinking, and smoking dope. B's apartment.)
A: (Speaks very slowly.) You're out there. In the middle of the desert. At night. And you turn off the headlights. And you're. The darkness. Like you're floating. In space. Like you're in space. You feel it. You feel. The nothingness. The, the. The hugeness. The utter. Vastness. Of space. And you'd think it should be quiet. Because it's so black. Because of all the nothingness. But, no. Then your ears. The motor is off. You turn off the motor and you hear. This buzz. This, this symphony. Of life. Of living things, you know? (Pause.)
B: We never went to the desert, me and Nan.
A: Oh, it's elemental. It's. There's so much life like you're not even aware of out there. All that emptiness. All that seemingly empty space. (Pause.)
B: I wanted to. She wasn't interested.
A: 'Cause the thing is. What makes it so elemental, the desert. Are the contradictions. You know what I mean?
B: Uh huh.
A: The contradictions. Like the temperature. You're sweaty and cold. At the same time. What do you call it?
B: What.
A: At the same time.
B: Simultaneously?
A: Yes, but that's not the word.
B: Um …
A: That's not what I'm thinking of. (Pause.)
B: Concurrently?
A: No …
B: Happening at the same time?
A: I can't think.
B: Anyway …
A: Anyway, the temperature. Paradoxes? Do I mean paradoxes?
B: Paradoxes?, yes.
A: Maybe. Maybe that's what I mean. Something and yet something else?, something that seemingly. Contradicts. The first thing?
B: Yeah …
A: Days. It could go above. The temperature could surpass a hundred, hundred and ten sometimes. At night. The temperature. Could drop sixty degrees easy. Plummet. The temperature plummets. The mercury. Way down.
B: I should've just taken off and gone by myself.
A: Wait: so, you're out there. In all this space. And this buzzing?
B: (Preoccupied, then testily.) What?
A: (After a beat.) Are you mad at me or something?
B: No.
A: I'm painting a picture for you. What it was like.
B: Go ahead.
A: (After a beat, meaning, “What's the matter?”) What.
B: Nothing. Tell me. Paint.
A: (After a beat, proceeding cautiously.) There's this buzzing. This music. I mean it. It is like a symphony or something. These creatures. Crickets and insects. And. Creatures. Sounds. Coming. Emanating. Coming out of the air, almost. Yeah, it seems to come out of
the air. Or up through the earth. Like the sand is, is. The earth's skin. And this sound. This electricity. Yeah, it's an electrical sound. This sound seeps out of the earth's pores. And you feel yourself hum with it. You feel the buzz of your own aura. Like your lifeforce has a sound, too. Just like the lizards and the crickets and the creatures and stuff. You know?
B: Yeah …
A: And the next thing that happens. The next thing you're aware of. And the thing is, we weren't even stoned yet. That's right, we weren't. On purpose. We wanted to be straight. At least in the beginning. So we could experience it, you know, unadulterated. So we could come to our own conclusions, you know?
B: Uh huh.
A: Without drugs.
B: That's good.
A: You know? Without drugs. Later we got stoned. But in the beginning …
B: You were straight.
A: We were straight. That was a choice. A conscious decision. And I'm glad.
B: Uhhuh?
A: I'm very glad. (A beat.) So what was I saying? (Pause.)
B: The—
A: Oh! So, the next thing you notice. After the buzz. Your eyes. They adjust to the darkness. And you know what?
B: What?
A: It isn't dark at all. It's like almost blindingly lit up. The desert is. Illuminated. By the moon! I'm talking just like seconds into it. Once you adjust. A) the buzz. B) the brightness. You can see everything in sight! Mountains and bushes and cactuses. Cacti. And like lizards 'tween your toes. And clouds! You can see a couple of clouds! And the moon! It's true! The moon is like a silver hole in the sky lighting up everything in sight! And stars twinkle like they're special effects or something. It's unreal. It is unreal. And we take off our clothes. It's like me and Katie, we're Adam and Eve. And the desert is our garden. And then we did it.
B: Uh huh.
A: Unbelievable.
B: I bet.
A: No, the feeling. This feeling of, of. Of nature. Of being a part of the cosmic buzz, you know? God. Amazing. (Pause. Sadly.) We had such a great time out west. (Pause.)
B: YOU want to sleep on the couch?
A: No, no.
B: It's no hassle. You can.
A: No, I'll go. I'll go home.
B: ' Cause I have to get up early.
A: I understand.
B: I'm temping.
A: I understand.
B: I've got to shlep all the way out to Long Island City.
A: I understand, really.
B: Some furn iture place.
A: I'll get out of your way.
B: ' Cause you're welcome to …
A: (Not budging.) I'll go home.
B: I mean it. (A nods, “I know.” Pause.) Well, here we are. (A beat.) Did you ever think we'd end up like this, you and me? (A shakes his head.) Me neither. I thought I'd've been a father by now. Nan was making good money, we could've had a kid.
A: What is it with these women? (B continues shaking his head. After a beat.) I don't understand it. This trip out west. Things were never better.
B: I know, pal.
A: Everything had seemed to come together. But. At the same time. Everything was falling apart.
B: I know.
A: It's a paradox.
B: I'm really sorry. I really am.
A: Let's analyze this. (B 's heart sinks.) I felt we were never closer. She felt closed-in. That's what she told me. We were watching the sun rise and it's like she went cold on me. Like she shut off the juice.
B: You're gonna drive yourself nuts, you know that?
A: I should've known. I should've seen it coming. (He smacks his own forehead.)
B: Hey!
A: (After a beat.) We were. You know. While we were doing it? Katie was on top. Bouncing. Her hair blowing in the stars. Both of us breathing hard. Buzzing along with everything else. Sand crunching my back. The sweat and the goose-bumps. Everything, in other words. Everything. I was watching Katie go. Bouncing. Her eyes closed. I was watching Katie. And over by her ear. In the sky. I saw it. We went to the desert to see Halley's comet. And there it was. Katie wearing it like an earring. I didn't tell her. I didn't want to ruin it. Halley's comet. I'm sure it was. This smudge. This nothing little white smudge. Halley's comet. (He shakes his head in disappointment. A beat.)
B: I'm getting you a pillow. You're sleeping on the couch. (He goes. A continues to shake his head. Blackout.)
STUCK
Claire Reeve
CHARACTERS
SARA: Beautiful twenty-five-year-old woman on her way up.
SAL: The voice that dreams are made of.
TIME: Early morning.
PLACE: Elevator of New York City office building.
(Woman is looking at image in handheld compact when she notices elevator is not moving.)
SARA: Oh, no! (Starts pressing buttons on elevator… bangs on door.) No God, please … no … oh God! (Presses emergency button.) Hello, hello, help! I'm stuck. Please somebody … anybody … I'm stuck!
SAL: (Male voice comes over the intercom.) I know. Miss, could you take your finger off the emergency button please. I know you're stuck.
SARA: I'm stuck.
SAL: Yes, miss. Miss, your finger. (Beat.) Miss, you're still pressing.
SARA: Oh. (Takes finger off button.) Please … I … I have a job interview—that's why I'm here. When … when am I going to be unstuck?
SAL: Soon miss.
SARA: How soon?
SAL: We're experiencing some power difficulties which we're investigating now.
SARA: Power?
SAL: Yes.
SARA: That doesn't sound good. Alone and powerless.
SAL: Are you all right?
SARA: Stuck.
SAL: Stay calm.
SARA: Calm.
SAL: Are you breathing?
SARA: I think so. What… what about oxygen?
SAL: Oxygen?
SARA: (Removes her coat.) It's getting a little warm in here. You can tell me, how, how much oxygen do I have left?
SAL: The elevators aren't airtight.
SARA: Air.
SAL: Yes, you have plenty but it may be a little warm in there because the fans aren't working.
SARA: Fans not working.
SAL: Keep breathing. Deeply, deeply. Do you feel any better?
SARA: I feel faint.
SAL: Put your head between your legs.
SARA: What?!
SAL: It helps. (SARA bends over and puts head between legs.) Are you feeling any better?
SARA: Now I feel nauseous. (Stands up and takes blouse off.) It's so hot in here.
SAL: What's your name?
SARA: My name?
SAL: Yes.
SARA: Sara … Sara Ann Porter.
SAL: Sara, that's a pretty name. My name's Sal.
SARA: Sal. Italian?
SAL: Yes.
SARA: I love Italian food. Think I'll live to have another plate of pasta Sal?
SAL: (Laughs.) Of course. My treat.
SARA: It's a date. It's hotter than hell in here. (Takes skirt off.)
SAL: Are you breathing?
SARA: Sal… Sal, I'm not doing well. (Takes off slip.)
SAL: You're doing fine.
SARA: Fine? I'm stuck in an elevator hyperventilating in my panties and bra, sweating like a pig, needing to take a pee and (Starts to cry. SARA takes stockings off. Pause … She starts to panic.) Sal, Sal are you still there?
SAL: I'm here Sara, I'm here.
SARA: It's hot Sal.
SAL: Is it?
SARA: Yes. I'm very … very … hot.
SAL: Try and stay calm and still, don't use up all your energy.
SARA: Why? What will I need it for? (Beat.) Sal… what… what are you keeping from me? DISASTER! Has there been a disaster? TERRORISM. Is it terrorism?
SAL: No Sara. We're just waiting for the electrical problem to be fixed.
SARA: If it's just electrical, how come the lights are on?
SAL: Different gene
rator.
SARA: (to herself) Got to stay calm. Keep breathing. You want to hear something funny, Sal? This morning I was reading the paper and looked at my horoscope. You know what it said … it said I was going to reach new heights today. New heights… funny and here I am STUCK! STUCK! (Pause.)
SAL: People get stuck on elevators all the time Sara and they go on to live full, productive lives.
SARA: All the time?
SAL: Yes. Think of it like being stuck in a traffic jam. You've been stuck in traffic jams haven't you?
SARA: Yes.
SAL: And you know that eventually the traffic starts moving again right?
SARA: Right.
SAL: What do you do when you are sitting in your car waiting for traffic to move?
SARA: I listen to music.
SAL: What kind of music do you like Sara?
SARA: I don't know … anything … PLAY ANYTHING!
SAL: Well I don't have a radio—
SARA: Then sing to me Sal, SING TO ME! (SAL begins to sing in a slow, steady voice.) East coast girls are hip I really dig the styles they wear (SARA starts to sing.) I wish they all could be California (SARA and SAL together.) I wish they all could be California / I wish they all could be California girls!
SARA: What's that?
SAL: Nothing.
SARA: I'm falling, I'm falling … THIS IS IT!
SAL: These elevators don't fall… well, not all the way. You may drop a floor or two.
SARA: DROP! What should I do?
SAL: Stay calm.
SARA: I heard that if you're in a falling elevator you should jump up and down and pray you're up when it crashes… (SARA starts jumping.)
SAL: Sara, it's okay stop … stop jumping.
(Phone rings.)
SARA: Now what?
SAL: Do you have a cell phone?
SARA: Yes, yes, my cell … oh my God, it's working. Hello, hello, Mom, I'm stuck! No, no really stuck. That's where I am in the elevator. What's that? that's good. (To SAL.) My mother is watching CNN and says there's no disaster. No, I didn't interview … I was on my way there … what? The powder blue suit with the shoes I got in Lord& Taylor. They don't clash. Mom… Mom… Mom! These could be the last words you have with your only daughter, your only hope of having a grandchild may be slipping away and you want to discuss fashion tips! You want to know what I'm wearing … DO YOU REALLY WANT TO KNOW? I'm standing here practically bare ass naked in my Victoria Secret Wonder Bra and panties wondering why I ever came on this goddamn interview for a job I don't even want!