by David Auburn
(HOGAN shrugs.)
All right. If you don’t mind, I’m gonna read my book and then I’m gonna go to bed so good night, for heaven’s sake.
HOGAN: Okay. I’ll be out in the truck if you need anything.
(He starts to go.)
VERONICA: Wait.
HOGAN: What?
VERONICA: Out in the truck?
HOGAN: Way down the drive. Near the road. You can’t see it from here.
VERONICA: Is that where you’ve been while you were waiting to check the water heater? Sitting in your truck the whole time?
HOGAN: Sort of.
VERONICA: What do you mean, “sort of”?
HOGAN: Well, since it’s come up … I’ve sort of been sleeping out there.
(Beat. She stares at him.)
VERONICA: What?
HOGAN: Debbie kicked me out.
VERONICA: Who?
HOGAN: My sister-in-law. The attorney? I mean, she didn’t so much kick me out as make it clear she didn’t want me staying there at all while you were renting. And my brother’s too pussy-whipped to say no. Can you believe that? My little brother.
VERONICA: How long have you been out there?
HOGAN: I guess more or less since you arrived.
VERONICA: Oh my God.
HOGAN: Did you know I was there?
VERONICA: No, I didn’t know you were there!
HOGAN: So what’s the problem?
VERONICA: I’m renting this place! Do you understand that? I am renting this property. You are not supposed to be on the property.
HOGAN: Come on, I’m barely on the property.
VERONICA: No. I am sick of this. This is bullshit.
HOGAN: What?
VERONICA: This is one of the biggest mistakes I ever made. Renting this rat-hole, and you skulking around the property like some weird freak—I’m sorry but that’s what you are, you are freaking me out! I am done with this.
HOGAN: What do you mean?
VERONICA: I am done. We are leaving.
HOGAN: The kids are sleeping.
VERONICA: First thing in the morning. Right now I want you out of here. Go. Park your truck elsewhere. Do you understand me?
HOGAN: You’re acting like I’m dangerous or something.
VERONICA: I will call the police. I swear I will call 911.
HOGAN: You think I’m dangerous? You’re lucky I was around here today!
VERONICA: Yeah, ’cause you were skulking around like the creepy oddball you are.
HOGAN: I wasn’t—
VERONICA: Creepy backwoods oddball freak.
HOGAN: You should be thanking me!
VERONICA: Oh, just shut up and get out of here, will you, please? We’ll be gone in the morning. Then you can move back into this dump, with your hockey sticks and sleazy magazines—
HOGAN: You’re the dangerous one.
VERONICA: Excuse me?
HOGAN: Kids who can barely swim—yeah, I watched them, they’re not as good as you think they are—leaving those kids all by themselves in the water while you’re off God knows where.
VERONICA: No. Don’t you dare suggest—
HOGAN: And it’s pretty convenient, isn’t it? This threat to leave. Given that you still owe me a third of the rent.
VERONICA: It’s not a threat and you ain’t never getting that money. Ever! This whole deal is over. And my kids are good swimmers! I taught them myself! This is over now. Will you just get out of here now, Hogan? Now?
HOGAN: Where did you go anyway?
VERONICA: What?
HOGAN: While the kids were swimming.
VERONICA: Nowhere.
HOGAN: You weren’t in the house.
VERONICA: I got a phone call. It was important. I had to walk down the road to get a decent signal. I told them to come up on the beach—
HOGAN: You should have just asked me. I would’ve stopped work, watched the kids.
VERONICA: Look, what do you want? You want me to thank you again?
HOGAN: You never thanked me the first time. After I jumped in the lake, saved a drowning child.
VERONICA: I was right there the second I heard her yell!
HOGAN: After you heard her yell maybe the third or fourth time.
VERONICA: Third time, first time, who cares?
HOGAN: Well, I was already there pulling her out and you just seem pissed off about it.
VERONICA: I’m not.
HOGAN: You sure have been acting pissed off about it.
VERONICA: Sorry.
I—I’m glad you helped me out. I am. But I was just down the road within earshot and three more seconds I would have waded in and grabbed her wrist just like you did only you beat me to it.
HOGAN: Little girl drowning and you make a phone call.
VERONICA: Oh for God’s sake she wasn’t drowning, she—
(The phone rings. VERONICA jumps.)
Jesus.
HOGAN: I thought you said it was disconnected.
VERONICA: It was. It hasn’t worked all week.
(It keeps ringing.)
HOGAN: Maybe you should get that?
VERONICA: Why?
HOGAN: She’s gonna let it ring until somebody picks up.
VERONICA: Who?
HOGAN: Debbie.
Please? Just see what she wants? I can’t deal with her.
VERONICA: That’s your problem.
HOGAN: She knows I’m here. She’s done this before. That phone’s gonna keep ringing.
VERONICA: So answer it.
HOGAN: Uh-uh. No way.
VERONICA: Hogan. Pick up the phone.
HOGAN: No.
VERONICA: It’s gonna wake the kids.
HOGAN: Yeah, I know, so you better pick it up.
VERONICA: It’s your phone. Pick up the goddamn phone.
HOGAN: No.
(It keeps ringing.)
VERONICA: Jesus.
(VERONICA goes to the phone, furious, and picks it up.)
What.
Yes, I am the renter. Who is this?
Well, you can tell me your name too. Uh-huh.
Well, my name is Veronica Barnes. B-A-R-N-E-S.
That’s right.
Because he rented to me.
No, we are not “friends.”
On the Internet.
Well, you’re gonna have to talk to him about that.
(HOGAN gestures “I’m not here.”)
Again, those are issues you will have to take up with your brother-in-law.
He’s—
(VERONICA looks at HOGAN, who makes pleading gestures. Beat.)
No. He’s not here right now. Why would he be? It’s nine o’clock at night. I don’t know where he is.
Uh-huh. All right. I don’t have a piece of paper. Okay …
(A pause as she listens.)
I see. Okay. I will. Goodbye.
(She hangs up.)
HOGAN: Thanks.
You didn’t have to do that.
(Beat.)
VERONICA: She was rude.
HOGAN: I told you.
What was she saying?
VERONICA: That you need to call her. Something about a compromise. That the homeowners’ association—something, they’re willing to drop the complaint, but you got to vacate the property.
HOGAN: What?
VERONICA: That’s what she said.
HOGAN: Oh, that is just bullshit. Who said she could even negotiate on my behalf? She never formally agreed to represent me. Vacate the property? What does that even mean?
VERONICA: It sounds pretty obvious.
HOGAN: It’s bullshit! It’s a blatant conflict of interest! My brother and I co-own the property. It was left to us jointly. So she comes along and negotiates a “compromise” that just happens to produce the outcome she’s wanted all these years, which is to get the place all to herself? It’s ridiculous! It’ll never stand up in a court of law. I’ll appeal. I’ll appeal this all the way to the Supreme Court if I have to.
VERONICA: What are you talking about? You’re not even in court.
HOGAN: Vacate. She is just completely out of control.
VERONICA: Maybe if you asked her before you rented she wouldn’t be so upset.
HOGAN: I don’t have to ask her permission.
VERONICA: Maybe you do. If you co-own the place. And they pay the utilities—she must have paid the phone bill. And you didn’t even ask them before you put it online. You didn’t even tell them until a few days ago.
HOGAN: She told you that?
VERONICA: Yes.
HOGAN: Why are you on her side all of a sudden?
VERONICA: I ain’t on anybody’s side. But it seems like maybe she’s got a point. Especially if you’re keeping all the rental money for yourself.
HOGAN: What? She told you that, too?
VERONICA: No. That I just figured.
(Beat.)
HOGAN: Look, here’s the thing. She comes here—they all come here to use the lake in the summer, right? Her and my brother and their kids. I have my own kid I’d like to bring up here! But I can’t, right? I can’t, and they act like they’re the only one with any right to it. They just show up whenever they want. Sometimes they want to have cookouts with other families. Parties … The girls—they got twin girls, my nieces—they both drive now, they show up on their own, bring their boyfriends— I’m living here.
VERONICA: So don’t live here.
HOGAN: Where the hell am I supposed to go?
VERONICA: How do I know? God, I’m sick of listening to you complain. I got problems of my own.
HOGAN: Oh, boo-fuckin’-hoo.
VERONICA: You don’t even know.
HOGAN: At least you got your kids with you, you know? Count your fucking blessings. And a fancy job—
VERONICA: I lost my job.
(Beat.)
HOGAN: The nursing job?
VERONICA: Yes.
HOGAN: When?
VERONICA: Week before I came up here.
(Beat.)
HOGAN: That why you never paid me the last third of the rent?
(VERONICA makes a dismissive gesture.)
You should have just told me.
(Beat.)
Look, it happens.
VERONICA: Not to me.
HOGAN: It’s happened to me maybe twenty, thirty times.
VERONICA: Yeah, well, you’re a loser.
(Beat.)
HOGAN: You didn’t have to say that.
VERONICA: Sorry.
HOGAN: Not just losers who get laid off.
VERONICA: I didn’t just get laid off.
HOGAN: You got fired?
(She makes a “bingo” gesture.)
Still doesn’t mean it was your fault.
VERONICA: Oh, it was, there’s no doubt about that.
HOGAN: Come on.
VERONICA: It was.
HOGAN: What’d you do, poison somebody? Give ’em the wrong injection?
VERONICA: No.
HOGAN: What?
VERONICA: It doesn’t matter.
HOGAN: Did you—
VERONICA: I really don’t want to talk about this anymore, if you don’t mind.
(She sits down, visibly upset. Beat.)
HOGAN: Look. Finish the week.
I’ll stay out of the way. I’ll go in town during the day and at night I’ll park at the far end of the property and be gone again at daybreak, you won’t see or hear me. I’ll clear up all the stuff with my family, it won’t affect you.
Those kids are having a good time. You don’t want to disappoint them and you don’t want a hassle from that girl’s dad for bringing her back early. You don’t want to waste your car rental. And the weather’s supposed to be terrific next few days. I’ll even spring for the inner tubes. Okay? Now, you’re never gonna get a better deal than that.
(He puts out his hand. Beat. Then VERONICA reluctantly takes it.)
All right.
(He starts to go.)
VERONICA: Hogan.
(He stops.)
Thank you. For the girl.
HOGAN: Anytime.
(Beat.)
VERONICA: Can I ask you something?
HOGAN: Sure.
VERONICA: Why can’t you bring your daughter up here?
(Beat.)
HOGAN: I sent her an e-mail back in May.
“Guess what? I’m finally building that diving platform. It’ll be ready this summer. You can come up and visit.” This is before I even knew she’d be going to school an hour away.
“You can swim. The cabin’s still here. The lake’s the same as it ever was. Everything’s the same.”
It bounced back. She changed her e-mail. I called her mother to get the new one. She said, in this voice, this very precise voice, she said she was asked, by our daughter, not to give it to me; and she felt she should respect our daughter’s preference. (Shrugs.) Well, that’s her preference.
(He exits.)
Fade.
SCENE 4
Night. VERONICA is bagging surplus groceries. She starts to fold a pile of kids’ clothes. She stops for a moment, listening to the night. It’s quiet.
Beat.
The sound of a truck. Headlights in the window. Motor turns off. Truck door opens and closes. Lights stay on.
VERONICA: Hogan?
HOGAN: (Off.) Yep.
VERONICA: Turn those lights off.
HOGAN: Oh.
(The lights go off. HOGAN enters. A bottle of Old Grand-Dad. He looks a little unsteady.)
Told you I’d stay away.
VERONICA: Uh-huh.
(Beat.)
HOGAN: Getting ready to go?
VERONICA: Yes.
HOGAN: Tomorrow morning.
VERONICA: Yep.
HOGAN: How were your last days? Was I right about the weather or what?
VERONICA: They were real nice.
(Beat.)
HOGAN: Just thought I’d check to see if you needed anything else before you go.
VERONICA: No, I think we’re okay, thanks.
Oh. One of my kids broke a cereal bowl. You tell me how much it costs and I’ll pay for it.
HOGAN: That’s all right.
VERONICA: No, take it out of the damage deposit. I don’t want to—
HOGAN: It’s just a bowl. Forget it.
(Beat.)
Did we end up doing the damage deposit?
VERONICA: Yeah, in the first two payments, remember?
HOGAN: Right, yes.
Oh—but the third payment never—
VERONICA: We said we’d forget about all that.
HOGAN: Right, right, right right right.
VERONICA: Let’s not go through this again, please. I’ve had a real nice couple days—
HOGAN: Of course. No.
(Beat.)
VERONICA: So you still have to return my damage deposit.
HOGAN: Yes. Absolutely. I’ll do a quick walk-through tomorrow, then send it off first thing.
(Beat.)
VERONICA: Oh, I dropped a coffee mug, too. I tried to glue it but it wouldn’t glue so I threw it out.
HOGAN: Don’t worry about it.
Unless it was my 1980 Lake Placid Miracle on Ice mug.
VERONICA: I think it was, yeah.
HOGAN: Shit.
VERONICA: I’ll pay for it.
HOGAN: That was a collector’s item. There’s no way you can afford to replace it. If you could even find a replacement.
VERONICA: Well, you shouldn’t have left it here if it was so valuable.
HOGAN: I didn’t think you’d use it.
VERONICA: Why wouldn’t I use it? It’s a coffee mug.
HOGAN: It’s clearly a collector’s item.
VERONICA: Then you shouldn’t have left it on the shelf with the other cups.
If it’s so important to you—
HOGAN: Never mind, just forget it.
VERONICA: I’ll pay for it.
HOGAN: Forget it,
I said.
VERONICA: I’m sorry.
(Beat.)
HOGAN: So I brought you something. Little farewell gift.
(He gives her a wrapped present.)
Just to sort of say no hard feelings kind of thing.
VERONICA: Oh. Well, thank you.
HOGAN: Open it.
(She does. It’s a book.)
VERONICA: A Child’s First Book of Birds.
HOGAN: See, I saw this and I thought this would be the one for a seven-year-old. See, it’s got pop-up pages? And you can pull that flap and make the wings beat, there’s a bunch of stuff like that, and check this out:
(He presses a button and the book emits a birdcall.)
For each one you can hear the actual call. That’s pretty incredible, huh? Tiny little speaker in there somehow. So your boy can really learn them now.
VERONICA: That’s—thank you very much. That’s very …
HOGAN: Of course you’re leaving. But there’s birds in the city, too, right?
VERONICA: Yeah.
HOGAN: There’s an inscription.
(She flips to it, reads.)
VERONICA: “To Veronica, with affection and respect, Terry Hogan.”
HOGAN: Of course, it’s really for your son, but I didn’t know his name.
VERONICA: I’m really … thank you, Hogan. I don’t know what to say.
HOGAN: Okay then.
(He starts to go. Stops.)
Oh. Uh. Earlier today …
VERONICA: Yeah?
HOGAN: I guess around dinnertime I saw—I saw a car pull in here. I wasn’t watching the place or anything. I was just parked in the woods off the road in and I happened to notice—
VERONICA: It was your brother.
HOGAN: Shit. I thought so. Did he give you a hard time?
VERONICA: No. He was perfectly nice. Apologized for everything. I said there was nothing to apologize for.
HOGAN: Oh, well, that’s good.
VERONICA: He was looking for you.
Maybe you oughta talk to him.
HOGAN: Where’d you say I’d gone?
VERONICA: Nowhere. I didn’t know where you went to. I was just glad I had one day here with everything working for once.
(Beat.)
He knows you’re hiding from him.
HOGAN: I wasn’t hiding from him.
VERONICA: Whatever, avoiding him.
HOGAN: I just went to get something to drink.
VERONICA: Well, it looks like you succeeded.
Now, maybe you should go now, finish your drink in your truck.
HOGAN: You really don’t think much of me, do you?
I’m not gonna sit and just guzzle this down alone in the woods in my truck. I use a glass.
VERONICA: Okay.