THE NEXT TEN MINUTES
JAMIE on a boat on the lake in Central Park, pointing to the apartment buildings on the Upper West Side.
JAMIE
No, that one’s Jerry Seinfeld.
That one’s John Lennon there.
No, the Dakota—
The San Remo is up a few blocks.
Have you been inside the Museum?
We should go.
Meet the dinosaurs.
Cathy.
He takes a ring out of his jeans pocket.
Will you share your life with me
For the next ten minutes?
For the next ten minutes:
We can handle that.
We could watch the waves,
We could watch the sky,
Or just sit and wait
As the time ticks by,
And if we make it ’til then,
Can I ask you again
For another ten?
CATHERINE appears, wearing her wedding gown, and walks slowly toward the boat.
And if you in turn agree
To the next ten minutes,
And the next ten minutes,
’Til the morning comes,
Then just holding you
Might compel me to
Ask you for more.
There are so many lives I want to share with you—
I will never be complete until I do.
JAMIE slides the ring on CATHERINE’s finger.
CATHERINE
I am not always on time.
Please don’t expect that from me.
I will be late,
But if you can just wait,
I will make it eventually.
Not like it’s in my control,
Not like I’m proud of the fact,
But anything other than being exact-
Ly on time, I can do.
I don’t know why people run.
I don’t know why things fall through.
I don’t know how anybody survives in this life
Without someone like you.
I could protect and preserve,
I could say no and goodbye,
But why, Jamie, why?
I want to be your wife.
I want to bear your child.
I want to die
Knowing I
Had a long, full life in your arms.
That I can do,
Forever, with you.
They are standing at the altar together, looking directly at each other for the first time in the play.
JAMIE CATHERINE
Will you share your life with me Forever.
For the next ten lifetimes? Forever, Jamie. . .
For a million summers
BOTH
‘Til the world explodes,
’Til there’s no one left
Who has ever known us apart!
JAMIE CATHERINE
There are so many dreams I need to see
With you There are so many years
I need to be
I will never be complete— With you. . .
CATHERINE
I will never be alive—
JAMIE
I will never change the world
Until I do.
CATHERINE
I do.
JAMIE
I do.
CATHERINE
I do.
BOTH
I do. . .
And they kiss, each holding on for as long as possible, as if perhaps they knew they didn’t have that long to go.
The orchestra plays a waltz, which they clumsily dance. He whispers something in her ear, she laughs and kisses him again. The waltz ends, and JAMIE takes CATHERINE’s hand as she steps into the rowboat. As it starts to glide upstage, JAMIE stands and watches it go. CATHERINE looks across the boat as though JAMIE were in the other seat.
CATHERINE
Is that one John Lennon?
That’s the San Remo.
Isn’t that the Museum?
Can we go see the dinosaurs?
The lights fade.
SCENE 9
A MIRACLE WOULD HAPPEN
Four months after the wedding. JAMIE is at a bar talking to a friend.
JAMIE
Everyone tells you that the minute you get married,
Every other woman in the world suddenly finds you attractive.
Well, that’s not true.
It only affects the kind of women you always wanted to sleep with,
But they wouldn’t give you the time of day before,
And now they’re banging down your door
And falling to their knees. . .
At least that’s what it feels like because you
Can
Not
Touch
Them.
In fact, you can’t even look at them—
Close your eyes, close your eyes, close your eyes.
Except you’re sitting there,
Eating your corned beef sandwich,
And all of sudden this pair of breasts walks by and smiles at you,
And you’re like, “That’s not fair!”
And in a perfect world,
A miracle would happen,
And every other girl would fly away,
And it’d be me and Cathy,
And nothing else would matter—
But it’s fine, it’s fine, it’s fine,
I mean, I’m happy
And I’m fine, I’m fine, I’m fine—
It’s not a problem, it’s just a challenge—
It’s a challenge to resist Temptation.
And I have to say that what exacerbates the problem
Is I’m at these parties, I’m the center of attention, I’m the grand fromage,
And here she comes:
“Let’s get a cup of coffee.
Will you look at my manuscript?”
And I’m showing her my left hand,
I’m gesticulating with my left hand,
And then whoomp! There’s Cathy!
’Cause she knows—they always know—
And there’s that really awkward moment
Where I try to show I wasn’t encouraging this,
(Which of course I sort of was),
And I don’t want to look whipped in front of this woman,
Which is dumb, I shouldn’t care what she thinks
Since I can’t fuck her anyway!
And in a perfect world,
A miracle would happen
And every girl would look like Mister Ed,
And it’d be me and Cathy,
And nothing else would matter.
But it’s fine, it’s fine, it’s fine,
You know I love her
And it’s fine, it’s fine, it’s fine—
It’s what I wanted
And I’m fine, I’m fine, I’m fine!
It’s not a problem, it’s just a challenge—
It’s a challenge to resist Temptation.
CATHERINE sings “When You Come Home to Me,” simply and perfectly—it is her final audition for the job in Ohio.
CATHERINE
WHEN YOU COME HOME TO ME,
I’LL WEAR A SWEETER SMILE
AND HOPE THAT, FOR A WHILE, YOU’LL STAY.
WHEN YOU COME HOME TO ME,
YOUR HAND WILL TOUCH MY FACE
AND BANISH ANY TRACE OF GRAY.
SOON, A LOVE WILL RISE ANEW
EVEN GREATER THAN THE JOY I FELT
JUST MISSING YOU,
AND ONCE AGAIN, I’LL BE
SO PROUD TO CALL YOU MINE,
WHEN FINALLY YOU COME HOME
TO ME.
She smiles when she is done—she knows she got the job.
JAMIE is on the phone to CATHERINE.
JAMIE
I’ll be there soon, Cathy—
I’ll finish up this chapter and be out the door.
I swear I’ll be there soon, Cathy—
Don’t give up on me yet
.
I am so proud of you, baby—
You’re doing what you never got to do before—
And I will be there, ripe and crawling,
If fuckin’ Random House stops calling.
Don’t lose faith—
Don’t get down,
Don’t despair:
I’ll be there!
And in a perfect world,
A miracle would happen,
And that day would finally be here.
And it’d be me and you,
Riding it together,
And the things we do
Goin’ like we planned.
We’re gonna make it through,
“I didn’t know you had to go so soon. /I thought we had a little time . . . /Look, Whatever, if you have to, /Then you have to, so whatever.”
Sherie Rene Scott and Norbert Leo Butz in “See I’m Smiling.”
“My heart’s been stolen! /My egoe’s swollen! /I just keep rollin’ along!” Norbert Leo Butz in “Moving Too Fast.”
“And then he smiles, /His eyes light up, and how can I complain? /Yes, he’s insane, / But look what he can do.”
Sherie Rene Scott in “A Part of That.”
“Ev’ry cut and stitch was a perfect fit, /As if God Himself were controlling it!/ And Schmuel cried, through a rush of tears, /‘Take me back! Take me back all forty-one ’
Norbert Leo Butz in “The Schmuel Song:”
“There are so many lives I want to share with you- /I will never be complete until I do:”
Sherie Rene Scott and a Norbert Leo Butz in “The Next Ten Minutes”
“I want to be your wife./I want to bear your child. /I want to die, /Knowing I/ had a long, full life in your arms:”
Sherie Rene Scott and Norbert Leo Butz in “The Next Ten Minutes.”
“Will you share your fife with me/For the next ten lifetimes? /For a million summers/‘Til the world explodes, /’Til there’s no one left/Who has ever known us apart!”
Sherie Rene Scott and Norbert Leo Butz in “The Next Ten Minutes.”
Sherie Rene Scott and Norbert Leo Butz.
And nothing else will matter—
We’ll be fine, we’re fine,
We’re fine, we’re fine,
We’re fine, we’re fine, we’re fine. . .
I’ll be there soon, Cathy
I swear I will. . .
The piano begins a very clunky rendition of “When You Come Home to Me” as the lights fade on JAMIE.
SCENE 10
CLIMBING UPHILL
CATHERINE is at an audition. She is incredibly nervous and cannot manage to get enough breath to project more than five feet in front of her or to quite get up to the pitch.
CATHERINE
WHEN YOU COME HOME TO ME,
I’LL WEAR A SWEETER SMILE
AND HOPE THAT, FOR A WHILE,
YOU’LL. . .
Okay, thank you. Thank you so much.
The lights change. She is having dinner with her father.
I’m climbin’ uphill, Daddy.
Climbin’ uphill.
I’m up ev’ry morning at six
And standing in line
With two hundred girls
Who are younger and thinner than me
Who have already been to the gym.
I’m waiting five hours in line,
And watching the girls
Just coming and going
In dresses that look just like this,
’Til my number is finally called.
When I walk in the room,
There’s a table of men—
Always men, usually gay—
Who’ve been sitting, like I have,
And listening all day
To two hundred girls
Belting as high as they can!
I am a good person
I’m an attractive person.
I am a talented person
Grant me grace!
A bell tone. She steps forward and begins another audition. Instead of hearing the song, however, we hear what she’s thinking.
WHEN YOU COME HOME . . .
I should have told them I was sick last week.
They’re gonna think this is the way I sing.
Why is the pianist playing so loud?
Should I sing louder?
I’ll sing louder.
Maybe I should stop and start over.
I’m going to stop and start over.
Why is the director staring at his crotch?
Why is that man staring at my resume?
Don’t stare at my resume.
I made up half my resume.
Look at me.
Stop looking at that, look at me.
No, not at my shoes.
Don’t look at my shoes—
I hate these fucking shoes.
Why did I pick these shoes?
Why did I pick this song?
Why did I pick this career?
Why does this pianist hate me?
If I don’t get a callback,
I can go to Crate and Barrel with Mom to buy a couch.
Not that I want to spend a day with Mom,
But Jamie needs his space to write,
Since I’m obviously such a horrible annoying distraction to him.
What’s he gonna be like when we have kids?
AND ONCE AGAIN . . .
Why am I working so hard?
These are the people who cast Linda Blair in a musical.
Jesus Christ, I suck, I suck, I suck, I suck.
WHEN FIN’LLY YOU COME HOME
To. . .
Okay. Thank you. Thank you so much.
JAMIE is at his editor’s office at Random House, on the phone to CATHERINE.
JAMIE Cathy, what are you doing now? No, no—there’s a bar across the street from Elise’s office, and I want you to . . . I’m at Elise’s office now. I came by to check something and . . . Well, just come down, I want to tell you in person, Cathy. Look, are you doing something right now? So just come . . . I’m with Elise because she is the editor of my book, Cathy, and I came here to talk to her about my book. Do we have to do this now? What I wanted to tell you is that there’s a review, a very good review, in The New Yorker next week, and it’s by John Updike, and I thought you might want to see that. Yes, I can bring it home with me, I just wanted to . . . No, I’m leaving now. I’ll be there in a half hour. It’s fine, I know, I know, it’s fine. I love you, too. I’ll be right home.
Lights fade on JAMIE.
CATHERINE
I will not be the girl stuck at home in the ’burbs
With the baby, the dog, and the garden of herbs.
I will not be the girl in the sensible shoes
Pushing burgers and beer nuts and missing the clues.
I will not be the girl who gets asked how it feels
To be trotting along at the genius’s heels!
I will not be the girl who requires a man to get by,
And I . . .
Bell tone.
WHEN YOU COME HOME . . .
JAMIE is doing a reading at a big bookstore. He sits on a stool behind a microphone. His relaxation and comfort stand in stark contrast to CATHERINE’s demeanor.
JAMIE He touched the wall and decided he had had enough. He was exhausted, first of all, and he could feel it: his lungs were throbbing and heavy, and his left arm was stinging from the shoulder right down to his wrist. Besides that, seven laps in and the water was still freezing cold, and if he wanted to be honest about it, he felt foolish—a ghost-pale, graceless thing flapping about frantically, desperately trying to keep pace with the mermaid in the next lane. She was at least half a lap ahead of him, though he hadn’t been able to keep track of her at all while he was swimming—every time he’d try to find her while he was catching a breath, she’d be completely out of range. But he could see her now, now that he was grabbing on to the side of the pool. He watched her back stretching, watched how she seemed to
ride the water. Her arm came up over her ear and slid back under the surface soundlessly, effortlessly. Now she touched the opposite wall and was headed back towards him, and he watched as she changed her stroke, her head coming up and then submerging again in a burst of energy. He could see the shape of her face under her goggles, sense the curve of her breasts as she pushed up into the air. She didn’t seem particularly familiar at that moment—he didn’t recognize the fierceness in her brow, the tension in her biceps, the fury in the pumping of her calves. It had never occurred to him that three years on he would be learning new things about her. It hit him in that moment that there were so many things he would discover—how her stomach swelled when she was pregnant, for example, or how the skin around her eyes would wrinkle as the years passed. She touched the wall next to him and pushed off, but she must have sensed something and she looked behind her and saw him standing at the wall, one arm hanging off the side, his teeth chattering slightly. She slowed down and turned to face him, a quizzical smile crossing her lips. He smiled back at her as she pulled the goggles over her cap. Ah, he thought, there she is. I recognize her now. He would spend the rest of the day trying to determine what was driving her silence, her clenched jaw, her sharp turns away from him. You don’t have to let me win, she was screaming, but he couldn’t hear it at all.
He closes the book and looks up at his audience. CATHERINE, meanwhile, is in the midst of vocalizing. She is trying to compensate for her previous mousiness with a hysterical stridency, which essentially forces her to scream every note at the loudest possible volume.
The Last Five Years Page 3