Belleville

by Amy Herzog

  ABBY: You have . . .

  (She points to a gash on his forehead. He touches his forehead, looks at his hand, and then goes into the bathroom. The sink runs, and then he emerges holding wadded-up toilet paper to his forehead. He goes back to her and holds her.)

  ZACK: If this isn’t the right time, then okay. But I want to have a serious talk about you going back on your meds.

  (She tries to pull away from him, he pulls her in closer.)

  You remember the last time you did something like this?

  ABBY: I wasn’t doing anything, I was just holding my breath.

  ZACK: That’s what you said right afterward the last time, you said it was an accident, you didn’t count the pills right, and later you / admitted—

  ABBY: This is different.

  ZACK: Why did you lock the door?

  Huh?

  ABBY: Because I’m afraid of you.

  ZACK: Well, this is the other consequence of you not being on your meds, is paranoia.

  ABBY: Don’t make me feel like I’m crazy, Zack.

  ZACK: Look at me. I love you. And I’m not gonna let anything happen to you.

  ABBY: I want to talk to my father.

  ZACK: Of course, of course you should talk to your father, but you should calm down a little first.

  ABBY: I’m fine.

  ZACK: You’re—you’re hungover, you’re in withdrawal, I think your toe is infected and you’re running a fever—

  ABBY: Give me my phone. Give it to me. Please. Please. Please, give me my phone.

  ZACK: Listen—

  ABBY: I’ll scream if you don’t give it to me.

  (Pause. Abby screams; Zack leaps onto her and covers her mouth, knocking over furniture on the way. They stay there for some time. The only sound is her breathing through her nose.)

  ZACK: I’m not going to hurt you. You know that, right?

  (Abby nods, terrified.)

  Okay. Here’s what’s going on. We have to get out of here by tomorrow.

  (She reacts by struggling, he subdues her.)

  I got behind on rent. And I should have told you, and I’m sorry, but I didn’t want to worry you, and I kept thinking I was gonna be able to catch up. And also I was ashamed.

  (He tentatively lifts his hand off her mouth; she screams again and he covers her mouth.)

  Please don’t do that! I am trying to tell you the truth. We need to make some decisions, we need to make some plans. Which means we have to be on the same team, we have to be together on this. So can you promise me you won’t do that again?

  (After a moment she nods. He lifts his hand an inch away from her mouth and hesitates, then moves it away.)

  Okay?

  ABBY (Practically spitting): Sure.

  ZACK: Can you understand how that would have happened?

  ABBY: Which part? (Off his pained look) I’m sorry, yes, I’m just supposed to say yes, right?

  ZACK: No, I want you to be honest.

  ABBY: No you don’t.

  ZACK: Yes I do.

  (Brief pause.)

  ABBY: Okay. You were right, I do wish you had said no when I proposed, that would have been better. I remember our wedding like I remember a nightmare. My mom was so sick she could barely stand for the ceremony, it was grotesque, I hate myself for putting her through that.

  ZACK: You wanted her to see you get married before she died.

  ABBY: That was idiotic and childish of me. And selfish. And loathsome. It was the most disgusting thing I’ve ever done, and I know it’s not what she wanted for me, it probably helped kill her.

  ZACK: That’s a horrible thing to say.

  ABBY: Why were you home yesterday?

  Never mind, I don’t want to know, I don’t want to know.

  ZACK: I think you do know.

  (She sobs.)

  Homey, it’s okay, because we’re in this together.

  (Long pause.)

  ABBY: Who’s Brigitte?

  Who was calling you when you said it was Brigitte?

  (Another pause. He goes to his computer. He hits a few keys. He hits the volume key and we hear a Skype call initiating. Zack’s phone begins to ring. She stares at him. Slowly, he takes out his phone and answers it. He speaks into the phone.)

  ZACK (His voice is doubled, a second behind, through the computer): I’m sorry.

  (A long pause.)

  ABBY: When did you lose your job?

  (Pause.)

  Did you ever have a job?

  (Pause.)

  I think I’m gonna—be sick again—

  ZACK: Let me help you.

  ABBY: Don’t touch me!

  (Pause.)

  Why didn’t we go to your graduation?

  ZACK: Abby . . .

  ABBY: You didn’t graduate from med school.

  ZACK: No.

  ABBY: Did you start med school?

  ZACK: Yes.

  ABBY: Then what happened?

  ZACK: I . . .

  ABBY: What?

  ZACK: I don’t know. I finished my second year.

  ABBY: And then?

  ZACK: . . . I didn’t do well on one my of exams, I was supposed to retake it, and then I . . . missed a deadline to apply for financial aid . . . I guess I didn’t . . . fundamentally, it wasn’t what I wanted?

  ABBY: Why didn’t you just tell me?

  ZACK: Uh, because you were suicidally depressed, and because the fact that I was in med school seemed very important not just to you but to your entire family.

  ABBY: What are we doing here?

  ZACK: You said you wanted to come to Paris.

  ABBY: For a—?! For a weekend!

  ZACK: I thought it was what you wanted.

  ABBY: You should have asked me.

  ZACK: I guess I felt like I did. Since I met you I have never done anything without thinking of you first.

  ABBY: That! Is the problem! Do you see that? Do you see how completely impossible you have made it for me to love you when you lack. Any. Actual. Core?

  (A pause.)

  ZACK (Coldly): I think if you took a really good look. Abby. You’d see that there are some things about you that are pretty hard to love, but I figured out how to do it anyway.

  (Abby’s phone vibrates. She is dying to answer it but doesn’t move. He takes the phone out of his pocket, silences it, and puts it back in. A long pause. Abby speaks very carefully.)

  ABBY: Listen. I think something’s really wrong with my toe, I think I need to get it looked at.

  (A pause.)

  Zack. I’m serious, I need your help. Can you take me to the hospital?

  (Longer pause. He looks at her uncomprehendingly.)

  Homey. Please.

  ZACK: I guess it was really stupid of me to think you might react with compassion.

  (Brief pause.)

  That was stupid, huh?

  ABBY: . . . Zack—

  ZACK: That’s how I imagined it, but that was just . . . wow. So stupid.

  (Pause. Abby is fighting panic.)

  ABBY: I think . . . we’re both really confused, and turned around—

  ZACK: I don’t think so, I think you’ve been pretty straightforward and clear.

  ABBY: You have to understand, this is a lot for me to process all at once, I might have said some things that . . .

  ZACK: Yeah?

  ABBY: We both might have said some things we shouldn’t have. And I’m sorry.

  ZACK: The sad thing, homey, is that I don’t trust you at all right now. I think you just want your phone and you want to get away from me.

  ABBY: I do want my phone, and I need to get to a hospital, but I also . . .

  ZACK: What?

  ABBY: Understand why you—I’m mad at you, but I understand why you would’ve . . .

  ZACK: You do?

  ABBY: Yes. And I can be abusive. I can be emotionally abusive. I know that about myself, I have to work on that.

  I’m sorry my first reaction was so selfish. You must have been so
miserable. And you did that for me. I see that.

  (She goes to him and kisses him, tentatively at first. He kisses her back passionately, almost violently. Their hands begin to run over one another’s bodies. We can’t see what is happening under the blanket, but suddenly there is a violent jolt and he grabs both her wrists. The phone is in one of her hands.)

  ZACK: You gotta be fucking kidding me.

  (He shakes her and the phone clatters to the ground.)

  ABBY: I just want to talk to my father. I want to know if my sister’s all right.

  (He lets go of her. She falls to the ground.)

  I won’t tell them anything, I swear to God.

  ZACK (Quietly): I don’t believe you.

  ABBY: I promise, you can—you can sit next to me with a knife—

  ZACK: I don’t want to sit next to you with a knife, God, what do you / think I—

  ABBY: I won’t tell them, I won’t tell them, just let me talk to them. And then take me home.

  ZACK: That’s what you want?

  ABBY: Yes. We need to go home together and heal. We can get a tiny apartment and I’ll work, it would be so good for me to work, I don’t care, I’ll do anything, and you can take some time to figure things out. That’s what you didn’t get, you didn’t get any time. And I’ve had a lot.

  ZACK: That’s true.

  ABBY: I can take care of you for a change, I think that would be so good for both of us.

  ZACK: That sounds nice.

  ABBY: Right?

  ZACK: That sounds really nice.

  ABBY: We just, we got off track, we lost our way, right? We can start over.

  (He doesn’t believe her, but it’s nice to hear her talk like this. The phone on the floor vibrates. She doesn’t make a move for it. She keeps her focus warmly on him. After it vibrates a few times, he picks it up and answers it.)

  ZACK: Hello.

  Hi, Kevin. What’s up?

  (He looks at Abby, she looks back at him.)

  Wow. That was fast. Not that I expect anything less from Meg.

  (They keep looking at each other.)

  That. Is . . . amazing.

  (He is deeply moved. He smiles at Abby.)

  That’s terrific news.

  You know, it feels great. I’ve been many things before, but I’ve never been that.

  She’s right here. She’s so eager to talk to you. I’m gonna put her on.

  (He gives her the phone. She takes it uncertainly.)

  ABBY: I’m just gonna—

  (She gestures toward the bedroom. He nods. She looks at him as she exits, answering.)

  Hello?

  (Tearfully) Hi, Daddy, I’m so happy to hear your voice. How is she?

  (She closes the door behind her. Her voice can be faintly heard through the bedroom door.

  Zack stands still for a few moments, watching the door.

  He goes to the window, opens it, and looks out at Belleville.

  After several moments, he turns and walks to the kitchen.

  He reenters, carrying the knife.

  He goes to the bedroom door and listens for several seconds.

  He gets one of the dining chairs and drags it quietly into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

  From within the bathroom, we hear him position the chair against the door.

  We hear the water run for about twenty seconds and stop.

  We hear Zack get into the bathtub.

  Moments later, we hear the knife drop.

  Some time passes.

  Abby can still be heard within the bedroom.

  The bedroom door opens and she enters, dressed, still holding her phone. She looks somehow cleansed and hopeful.)

  I’m just gonna tell him.

  Zack. They named her—

  (She looks first to the open window, then to the closed bathroom door.)

  Homey?

  (She crosses to the bathroom and knocks.)

  Homey? Zack?

  (She tries the door. It’s locked. She tries throwing her weight against it but it doesn’t move. She backs away from the door, horrified, lucid.)

  Daddy, I need your help. I need you to come get me.

  (Lights out.)

  Scene Six

  Several days later. Amina and Alioune are cleaning in silence. They speak quietly, almost inaudibly, in French.

  ALIOUNE: Merde.

  (Pause.)

  AMINA: Ouais. Incroyable.

  (Amina goes into the bathroom to retrieve something and comes back into the living room, leaving the bathroom door open.)

  Tu as le—?

  ALIOUNE: Le quoi?

  AMINA: Je le vois, il est là-bas.

  (Amina gets the broom from another part of the room. Several moments pass.)

  AMINA: T’as quelle heure?

  ALIOUNE: Euh . . . un instant . . . (He looks at his phone) Dix heures moins cinq.

  AMINA: Oh. Il est encore tôt.

  (Long pause. They keep cleaning. Amina picks up the wedding album from the table. She looks through it for a few moments before hesitantly dropping it in one of the garbage bags.

  Amina gets a bucket from the bathroom. She returns to the living room and gets down on her hands and knees with the bucket, sponging a spot on the floor.

  Alioune stops his cleaning for a moment to watch her.)

  ALIOUNE: Je suis désolé.

  Amina.

  (She stops scrubbing.)

  Je suis désolé.

  AMINA: Oui, je t’ai bien entendu.

  (Pause.)

  Ça va. C’est pas une catastrophe.

  ALIOUNE (Laughing slightly): Non?

  AMINA: En fait, non.

  (She gives him a small, forgiving smile.)

  Allons-y. On a beaucoup de choses à faire.

  (They return to their work. Very slowly, the lights fade.)

  END OF PLAY

  AMY HERZOG’s plays include After the Revolution (Williamstown Theatre Festival, Playwrights Horizons, Lilly Award); 4000 Miles (Lincoln Center Theater, Pulitzer Prize finalist, Obie Award for the Best New American Play); The Great God Pan (Playwrights Horizons) and Belleville (Yale Repertory Theatre, New York Theatre Workshop, finalist for the Susan Smith Blackburn Prize). She has received commissions from Yale Repertory Theatre, Steppenwolf Theatre Company and Playwrights Horizons. She is a recipient of the Whiting Writers’ Award, the Benjamin H. Danks Award from the American Academy of Arts and Letters, the Helen Merrill Award, the Joan and Joseph F. Cullman Award for Extraordinary Creativity and the New York Times Outstanding Playwright Award. She is a Usual Suspect at New York Theatre Workshop, and an alumna of Youngblood at Ensemble Studio Theatre, Play Group at Ars Nova and the Soho Rep Writer/Director Lab. She has taught playwriting at Bryn Mawr and Yale. She received an MFA from the Yale School of Drama.