by Lisa Kron
LAURIE: Come on, Ellen, if you’re honest about it, you have to admit that the Republicans have a valid point.
ELLEN: About what?
LAURIE: Ellen, how is running the cards through the machines not more fair and neutral than a manual recount?
ELLEN: I . . . I can’t . . . I don’t even know how . . .
LAURIE: What’s more nonpartisan than a machine?
ELLEN: Kayla, Kayla, Kayla, please help me explain to your girlfriend // that the Republican—
LAURIE: Why? Why’s she gotta cut me like that?
ELLEN: Wife, wife, wife. Okay, sorry, sorry—wife. Laurie, the Republican rhetoric around the hand recounts is outrageous. Manual Recounts Are Standard, Accepted, They’re What You Do When An Election Is Contested. George Bush Himself Signed Manual Recounts Into Law In Texas, Of Course He Did, Nine Out Of Ten Times The Voter’s Intent On Those Cards // Is Totally Clear—
LAURIE (To Danny): Oh man, what did I do?
ELLEN: But I’m going to tell you something—
LAURIE: Oh, fantastic.
ELLEN: The big thing being exposed here is not about Bush or Gore in Florida. What I really think // is that—
LAURIE: Hey, we’re finally going to hear what she really thinks.
ELLEN: Yes, you are, Laurie. You started it. // What I really think is that while we’re—
DANNY (To Laurie): All on you.
ELLEN (Continuing): —while we’re paying obsessive attention to minutiae like the Republican operatives who said they saw Democratic poll workers eating chads—
KAYLA: I know, that is crazy.
ELLEN: Yes, but the point is we’re missing the big story, which is that nationwide tens of thousands of voters are being Systematically Disenfranchised. As a Rule, in poor and minority areas, thousands of people cast ballots that are never counted. What has been laid bare in these past few weeks is that we don’t know who’s actually been elected ANYWHERE. And we don’t seem to care. And you’re right, Laurie—
LAURIE: I am?
ELLEN: —oh, now you pay attention—this is as true on the left as on the right: we like the idea of democracy. We love it, but only in the abstract. None of us is interested in anything as boring and unsexy as the realistic maintenance of it. George Bush becoming president would be scary, but do you know what’s really scary?
LAURIE (To Danny): Yeah, that electroshock thing in Cheney’s chest.
DANNY (To Laurie): No. No. Anne Heche showing up at your house acting all crazy.
ELLEN: Ah, ha ha. (Sulking) Never mind.
(Laurie sees that they went too far.)
LAURIE: We’re sorry.
ELLEN (Pouting): No, forget it.
DANNY (Taking Ellen’s head in his hands like it’s a cute stuffed animal): Look at this brain! Even now, in one of the very rare moments where she’s not actually talking, this brain is going a hundred twenty miles per hour. Exhausting. And irresistible. I would like to take a bite out of this head. I love it. I need to bite it. (He play-bites her head)
ELLEN (Waving him off): Okay, stop that. What’s really scary is the Republicans are questioning the legitimacy of the system.
LAURIE: Okay, this one’s on // you!
DANNY: You’re totally right. // How much do I owe you?
ELLEN: Listen, you! Listen up! James Baker is dismissing the Florida Supreme Court as an illegitimate body because they ordered a statewide recount and he doesn’t like it. And that’s totally frightening. Do you understand this? Because I am telling you—the only thing that makes us different from Bosnia or Rwanda or Nazi // Germany is that we—
KAYLA: Whoa, whoa, whoa! Many things make us different from Rwanda and Nazi Germany, // Ellen.
ELLEN: What makes us different is that we all agree to operate within the rules of the system. But once we jump that rail we are in serious trouble.
KAYLA: Come on, Ellen, those countries have totally different histories than we // do—
ELLEN: Yes // but—
KAYLA: Germany was in a state of total instability following World War I; // Rwanda . . . has ethnic divisions that // predate their colonial period.
ELLEN: Okay, yes, but . . . Kayla, do you remember watching the Winter Olympics in Sarajevo? Do you think they saw what was coming?
KAYLA: Ellen, again, again, that came out of a completely different set of circumstances // than anything that’s happening here—
ELLEN: What I’m saying, what I’m saying is that the circumstances here, right now are very precarious. And unless you feel Americans have some inherent biological advantage—
KAYLA: Oh, come on, Ellen, you know that I // don’t think that—
ELLEN: —or that by virtue of being American we’re inherently good, then I don’t know why you would assume things can’t spiral out of control.
KAYLA: Ellen, American democracy is a deeply culturally embedded system. It’s not a new system, it’s not a superficially // imposed system—
ELLEN: That doesn’t mean nothing bad can ever happen // to us—
KAYLA: Ellen, that’s not what I’m saying.
ELLEN: Kayla, the rhetoric of the past few days is terrifying to me.
KAYLA: Yes, it’s infuriating, it’s partisan, it’s wrong, but your analysis is—it’s a little unhinged. // Yes. I think you need to take a step back.
ELLEN: No. No. No. Kayla, I think this is something we haven’t seen before.
KAYLA: Maybe it is . . . but . . . We are never going to be Rwanda.
ELLEN: Kayla. There is a ruthless dismantling of the system happening here. Seriously, seriously, listen to me. They Don’t Want to Recount the Votes. They don’t even pretend to respect the Established Channels of Democracy. And I’m telling you, if we decide there are no rules—look at that map of the red states and the blue states—I’m telling you—go ahead and scoff, Laurie, but I’m telling you it’s the queer people who are going to get pushed into the ocean first.
(Beat.)
KAYLA: Pushed into the ocean??
ELLEN: Okay. Stop laughing at me. I know I’m ranting, I know I’m driving everybody crazy.
KAYLA: Oh, you’re not.
ELLEN: I know I am, shut up, you. I know you love me. The best thing about me is that I understand what’s so irritating about me. I know I sound like a crazy Cassandra. Although I do think it’s pure delusion to assume this country will right itself no matter what—okay, okay, laugh away. I hope you’re still laughing in two years, that’s all I have to say.
(Half a beat.)
Where’s Judy?
KAYLA: Maybe she’s making us a festive holiday centerpiece.
DANNY: She’s probably smoking.
ELLEN: I better go check on her.
LAURIE (Jumping up): Oh my God! I never checked the turkey! Shit.
KAYLA: Want me to go with you?
LAURIE: Yeah. We can probably start to think about eating. Danny, come too. We’ll bring everything up.
(Laurie, Kayla and Danny exit. Ellen finds Judy on the fire escape, smoking. She grabs a sweater and climbs out to join her.)
ELLEN: Hey, here you are.
JUDY: Here I am.
ELLEN: You okay?
JUDY: Yeah.
ELLEN: Ooh. It’s nice to get some air. Let me have a drag off that.
(Judy hands her the cigarette.)
A lot of family energy in there, huh?
(A beat.)
JUDY: Gimme that.
(Ellen hands the cigarette back. Judy takes a drag.)
ELLEN: Shouldn’t be too long until dinner. Laurie’s checking the turkey—
(Judy’s cell phone rings.)
JUDY (Searching frantically): Where is it? Where is it? Christ, why is it so small? Where the fuck is it?
(She finds it, recognizes the caller.)
Oh fuck.
(It keeps ringing.)
ELLEN: Should I go so you can answer it?
JUDY: No. It’s my sister.
ELLEN: Do you want to turn
it off?
JUDY: Uh . . . Well—I’m waiting for a call.
ELLEN: Oh. Well, stop the ringer. (She grabs the phone) Here.
JUDY: Don’t answer it.
ELLEN (She pushes a button and the ringing stops. She hands the phone back): Here.
JUDY: Huh. I just got it, I don’t know how it . . .
ELLEN: I know, you with a cell phone. It’s like Benjamin Franklin with a video game.
JUDY: Yeah, like that.
ELLEN: It’s good your sister can reach you.
JUDY: Good, hell. I can’t wait to give this thing back to the colleague I borrowed it from. Then he can deal with her. Ha. I don’t know why I gave her the number. I know better. She’s called me four times already. Yesterday she called me from the funeral home in Corbin, telling me I had to send her money, because if I didn’t Mom was going to be buried in the “welfare coffin.”
ELLEN: What’s that?
JUDY: There’s no such thing. That’s what the funeral director called it to shame her into buying a more expensive one.
ELLEN: That’s horrible!
JUDY (Shrugging it off): Fucker.
ELLEN: What did you do?
JUDY: I told her no.
ELLEN: Oh. (A beat) So how’re you feeling about going home?
JUDY: Like it’s going to suck.
(A beat.)
ELLEN: Judy, do you want me to go to this funeral with you?
JUDY: What? No.
ELLEN: Maybe I should.
JUDY: That’s crazy.
ELLEN: Why is it crazy? It’s one of the perks of my freewheeling itinerant lifestyle. Four different jobs. I can ditch any of them.
JUDY: Where are you working these days?
ELLEN: Subject changer.
JUDY: You still at Amnesty?
ELLEN: Every once in a while.
JUDY: They miss me?
ELLEN: Oh, terribly.
JUDY: How’s your writing?
ELLEN: Judy . . .
JUDY: How’s your writing?
ELLEN (Letting her off the hook, for now): My writing’s . . . fine. I’m starting to think finally about writing about my infrastructure obsession.
JUDY: Your . . .
ELLEN: You know, my thing that everyone finds so dull they can’t hear my voice when I’m talking about it: the tax code, the regulatory structure . . .
JUDY: Oh, yes, of course.
ELLEN: Kayla’s been telling me since we were sophomores in college that I should write about it. I should probably just do what she tells me. She just had a story published in Ploughshares.
JUDY (Surprised. Didn’t think Kayla had it in her): Huh.
(Danny reenters.)
DANNY (Popping his head through the window): Ladies—
ELLEN (Starting to get up): Time?
DANNY: No, no. Kayla’s gone to the Indian grocery.
ELLEN: She has?
DANNY: Apparently she was supposed to get cardamom yesterday—so there’s a bit of tension . . .
ELLEN: Oh no.
DANNY: I’m guessing when she gets back there might be a little “processing.”
ELLEN: Oh God . . .
DANNY: So I just wanted to let you know you have a few more minutes to enjoy the patio.
ELLEN: Okay, keep us posted.
(Danny goes back in. Small beat.)
Did you get that whole “wife” thing between those two earlier? You know they had a big wedding.
JUDY: No, I didn’t know that.
ELLEN: Oh yes. June. Full-on. You should have seen it. Every member of Danny and Kayla’s big Irish-Catholic family was there, weeping, drinking . . .
JUDY: Sorry I missed it.
ELLEN: I mean it was lovely but . . . (A beat) Nobody from Laurie’s family showed up except for her mother.
JUDY: Oh dear.
ELLEN: Her father wouldn’t come. It broke her heart, it was terrible. Danny’s family, on the other hand, was looking at me the whole time, like—the lesbians are getting married, for Christ’s sake! What’s wrong with you?!
(Judy laughs. A reflective beat.)
I just don’t get the whole wedding thing. I never got it. I didn’t fantasize about it when I was a kid. Did you?
JUDY: I mostly fantasized about having my own house. And a gun. And a horse.
ELLEN: Nice. (Beat) What’s the automatic reverence for marriage?
JUDY: You’re asking the wrong person. It didn’t do a thing for me.
ELLEN: I think I’m just not a romantic person. I don’t know. This is what I fantasized about when I was a kid—what I have now—this big family jumble, this puppy pile of people. I was such a solitary kid.
JUDY: I had a whole gang.
ELLEN: You did?
JUDY: Yeah. I ran ’em.
ELLEN: I bet you did.
(Beat.)
Judy, I’m really sorry about your mother.
JUDY: Oh . . . yeah . . .
ELLEN: When was the last time you talked to her?
JUDY: Eight years ago.
ELLEN: Long time.
JUDY: Yep.
(Beat. Ellen gives her space to talk.)
Yeah, it was after I got back from Timor.
Yeah.
And . . . I just couldn’t . . .
I got there and Eileen was in the hospital—
ELLEN: Your sister.
JUDY: Yep—because her husband Gene had really done a job on her . . . and I thought that I’d talked her into leaving him . . . and my mother talked her into staying. And I was done. My niece Tessa was . . . six, she was six, God, she’d be fourteen now.
Yeah . . .
And I was not interested in watching her go through what we did, and they were never going to change, so . . .
ELLEN: It’s too bad you can’t pick your parents.
JUDY: Gene’s not Tessa’s father.
ELLEN: Oh.
JUDY: No. No, Tessa’s father is black. Apparently.
(Judy’s phone rings again. She jumps.)
Shit! Come on, come on, come on. (She peers at the phone and hits the button) Hello? Larry? Hello? (She looks at the phone again) Hello? (The call is gone) Shit.
(She stares at the phone for a moment.)
He has to call me back, I can’t call him. So fucking frustrating!
ELLEN: Who’s Larry?
JUDY (Neutral): A friend.
ELLEN: A friend.
JUDY: He’s my housemate.
ELLEN: Your housemate?
JUDY: Am I not speaking English?
ELLEN: You’re not living in the camp.
JUDY: I’m living in town.
ELLEN: In town?
JUDY: Are you just going to repeat every thing I say?
ELLEN: It’s just that you usually . . . I mean, I thought . . . I think it’s good.
JUDY: You think what’s good?
ELLEN: I don’t know, Judy! What are we talking about? God! You’re frustrating!
JUDY: I’m living with Larry.
ELLEN: Like . . .
(Judy doesn’t fill in.)
Like . . . Is he your boyfriend?
JUDY: Boyfriend? I’m fifty-six years old! Boyfriend.
ELLEN: Okay, is he . . .
JUDY: We’re lovers.
(Beat.)
ELLEN: Well, that’s . . . that’s really nice, Judy.
JUDY: How do you know? You don’t know him.
ELLEN (Bemused, but really asking): You’re right. You tell me. Is it nice?
JUDY: Yeah it’s nice. It’s no big deal.
ELLEN: How did you meet him?
JUDY: He’s an economic-development guy. He’s Australian. He’s based at the London School of Economics, but he has a research fellowship at the University of Conakry.
ELLEN: How long have you been seeing each other?
JUDY: About five months.
ELLEN: It’s . . . it’s nice that while you’re here dealing with all of this, he’s there waiting for you.
JUDY:
Yeah.
(Beat.)
He’s actually leaving for London tomorrow. He’s spending December there with his family.
ELLEN (Carefully judgment-free): Oh. He’s married?
JUDY: Yes. Things happen in conflict zones. It’s a different thing there.
ELLEN: No, no, I know. I always just want more for you.
JUDY: For me this is more.
(Judy’s phone rings again.)
ELLEN: Larry?
JUDY (Looking at the phone): It’s my fucking sister.
(She hands it to Ellen, who turns off the ringer.)
ELLEN: I’m going to the funeral with you.
JUDY: You can’t go with me.
ELLEN: You can’t go there by yourself. Listen, it should be a law. After a certain point no one should ever go home without a reality-check companion. You have to let me come.
JUDY: Maybe I should.
ELLEN: Yes. Judy. It’s done. I’m coming with you.
JUDY: All right.
ELLEN: Good. (Small beat) I should probably check in. You comin’?
JUDY: In a minute.
(Ellen climbs back into the kitchen. Then sticks her head back out.)
ELLEN: Hey. I’m glad you’re here.
JUDY: Oh yeah, I’m fun at a party.
(Ellen goes over to Danny, who is on the couch watching football.)
ELLEN: They’re not back?
DANNY: Not yet. Wanna make out?
ELLEN: You think they’re okay?
DANNY: They’re fine.
(He gestures for her to come sit next to him. She curls up against him.)
How’s your pal?
ELLEN: She’s okay. (Beat) I made Kayla and Laurie mad.
DANNY: You might have irritated them a little.
ELLEN: You tried to tell me.
DANNY: I tried.
ELLEN: When am I going to listen to you?
DANNY: That’s what I want to know.
ELLEN: I do listen to you.
DANNY: Sometimes. Sometimes you do.
ELLEN: I told Judy I’d go with her to her mother’s funeral.
DANNY: You did? How come?
ELLEN: Her family’s terrible. She’s so alone. Do you think it was a good idea to tell her I’d go?
DANNY: I think if your friend needs you, you should go.
ELLEN: Do you want to come along?
DANNY: Nope.
ELLEN: Didn’t think so. (Small beat) She’s got a new boyfriend.
DANNY: Go Judy.
ELLEN: A married guy.
DANNY: Ah.
ELLEN: What do you think?