“To Whom It May Concern”: The Lament of Scarlett McQueen

Overture

It was a long time ago- stickers from the dentist were an event, Santa existed, and my Mom was my best friend. I was 5. My family used to take annual summer vacations to Disney World, though now it all seems like a kaleidoscope of sequins, castles, and popsicles-different dazzling rays of magic formulating a distinct memory. Walking through the neatly landscaped gates with its grand architecture brought me to a joyous place every time. Here, everything could be possible in my little world of innocence.

My favorite ride was “Snow White’s Adventure” in The Magic Kingdom, my small frame dripping with sweat, for hours waiting to get on the ride. Strangely though, I cannot recall gaining any kind of amusement on my theme park attraction of choice. I obnoxiously cried while beating down on my father’s test every time. I felt an overwhelming sense of anxiousness, as if every organ in my body were sitting in my throat, impatiently waiting to explode. Why I would obsessively wait, sit, and get back on for such a journey of emotional nausea I cannot fathom. Yet, I guess somehow, it would be a preview of my real life as opposed to the tourist-friendly, breakfast buffet, fantastical enamel I had in front of me.

The White Room

My flaming eyes opened to a muddled, hazy room, slowly sharpening with each blink. I gawked at my bruised hands and clutched onto my sopping wet scarlet hair in utter bewilderment. A sandpaper gown dressed my shaking 16-year-old body, bound to a bed by straps and a nurse’s hand. Family and friends surrounded me, waiting for anything- a movement, a word, a sign of life. Three hours later, I was discharged from a hospital, left with nothing but questions and way too many answers. The car ride home was plagued by violent shrieks of silence as my parents doubted my sanity. I was betrayed. I was ashamed. I was vacant. And now, I was alone. Only I could answer the question of where had I been and where was I now?

No one ever thinks anything will happen to them-wither it be an STD or the lottery, we never want to admit the possibility of impossibility. As my father guarded me from the Evil Queen on “Snow White’s Adventure,” or my mother taught me how to ride a bike, they would have never thought this could happen to them. Finding your daughter unconscious on a basement floor is not exactly the highlight of any parent’s career. “Where had they gone wrong?” they must have thought. I guess I asked myself the same question at that point as well. I had experienced near death- resuscitated and awaken hours later. Even if my new life had depended on it, conjuring up any memory of that night would, in fact, be an impossibility in itself.

I knew what everyone was thinking. I knew what everyone thought I was thinking. The truth was, I didn’t posses the mandatory cliché background of a bad childhood that led to my alcohol abuse. My parents were kind, supportive people, there for me every step of the way. I was a normal, confused teenager voyaging on this ailing road we call life and somehow losing my core along the way. What happens when we begin to confuse who we are with who we want to be? At that time in my life, I clearly was sure of either. However, I knew I needed help. An unidentifiable something began to poison my life, thieving the person I once was.

Entr'acte

I was born real, but never realistic. An adamant that believer that delusion rides shotgun on the road to our realities, I’ve spent a majority of my life feeding off my perception, rather than what actually is. Life is a result of one’s virtue’s and vices, each of them paving the way for either accomplishments or misfortunes. I found myself drowned by these vices- alone, unchanged, and yet completely faded. The days of grass stained knees, heavy metal, and summer nights ending in regret were still part of me, however, and it would not be long before I would retreat to the Original Sins of my downfall.

The Foundation to Foundations

Addict- defined as physiologically or psychologically dependent on a habit-forming substance. A pretty heavy label, yet at the same time, loosely used. My misuse of alcohol had crazed me so much so that it could have been fatal. Hostility, complete memory loss, and betrayal to those I cared for became a consistent occurrence. My friends were offended, concerned, or disturbed, and my parents disappointed and helpless. Thus, at only 18, I brought myself to my first AA meeting. Although I wasn’t exactly ecstatic, I knew it’d be more of a step forward than any of the backward ones I seemed to be taking. Without treatment, experts say, five out of every six active alcoholics will die at an early age. Since I had already been (slightly) saved from such a fate, Alcoholics Anonymous seemed like a suitable fit. And so, my thwarted father and I ventured in our red mini-van to the land of recovery or something like it.

The room smelt like molding sawdust and everyone looked like they wanted to eat me, slowly, piece by piece. I took a big gulp, inhaling my pride and exhaling the regrettable truth. With my father at my side as the only female, I awkwardly sat on a torn burgundy bench in sea of lost men. For an hour I would be graced with tales of the fallen- some sad, some preventable, some inexcusable. Every vocal chord I possessed want to shout something, anything, but I felt as if my story did not yet exist. I had come to discover what I was, not to tell a plagued posse of delinquents a sob story. After the meeting was over, I rested my throbbing head against the car window as my dad rattled on about “how much progress I was making” and “it’s the little steps that mattered.” I didn’t know what to say. I felt like I had failed AA, rather than AA failing me. Yet, I wasn’t sure why. I retreated to my room to think and find answers, when I realized- just because you were once more does not mean you now have to be less. The anger, confusion, and partial denial I felt was a step. After all, how can you feel complete if you’ve never felt empty?

After my first and last AA meeting, the decision was made to attend an outpatient rehab, High Focus, from the beginning of July until I left for college. During 4-hour sessions (attended 4 times a week) I would face an obstacle course of psychological madness. I felt completely suffocated under the watchful eyes of my counselors, Michelle and Tim, and would consistently debate my issue’s existence. High Focus taught me more about myself than I perhaps would still want to admit, with its method of treatment attempting to suck the poison out of my past. Still, it’s as if yesterday I compulsively dyed my hair red, fell in love twice a day, and pondered if I was going to survive this shit we so affectionately call life.

Finale

To your plastic I am bound,

Veins, vice, and veil-

The aethestic prothestic-

The rhythm of my sound.

Dress the fantasy,

Render the prophecy-

I’ll wear all the is all of me.

Reality’s factory, delusion’s hometown-

My corporal existence,

My ambition’s persistence,

My future’s penance.

The function,

the disguise-

the misery of my mind.

Fully and forever mine,

My mannequin.

The Utility of Man

November 22, 1963 12:28pm

I lie on my belly at the top of a small hill in downtown Dallas. The grass is still wet with dew, but I don't mind it; its soothing in this midday heat. 12:29 the target approaches. I try and steady my breathing with deep long breaths. This shot has to be perfect, no room for error. As the motorcade moves into my field of vision, I take one final breath and hold. 12:30 one shot rings somewhere north of my location. That' my cue. If only that idiot had made a proper shot off, I wouldn't need to be here. This thought causes a momentary lapse in concentration just as my finger squeezes the trigger. The shot's not right, it's a few inches off, and hits the person to the right of my target. SHIT, SHIT SHIT! I quickly re-chamber my weapon and fire another round. This time the line is good, and I hit the target perfectly. I watch his head snap back, and it's clear my job is done. I quickly shoulder my weapon, which becomes nearly invisible with my combat vest. While descending the hill, I catch a slight glimpse of what looks to be the targets wife; the look of terror and sadness as she reaches for her husband's body is nauseating. Steady your nerves Mason! Just now you could have saved millions of lives. Yea, but I have know idea how. Well that's the job. Your duty is to act for the greater good, and not to ask questions. I argue with myself for too long.

12:33pm

My wrist communicator starts to beep. I have two minutes before the jump home. Sprinting down the main avenue searching for a suitable place to exit, I blend in with the crowd of bystanders attending the processional. If a man were to just disappear into thin air, I don't think that anybody would notice, but that chance can not be taken. Too much is at risk here. A large brick building appears to my left. From the looks of it, it's been abandon for quite awhile, which is a rarity for such a populated area. I dash in, with no time to secure the location, hopefully no squatters are around. As my watch hits 12:35, I can already feel the familiar sensation of a jump. Explaining time travel is quite difficult. Imagine the tickling feeling you get in the pit of your stomach when you reach the highest point of a roller coaster right before you fall. Now, multiply that times one-hundred, and you get the general idea.

August 28, 2218

I materialize back at the station, like always, in one of the quarantine rooms. I catch my breath, since you can't breathe during the jumping process. After filling my lungs with as much air as they could handle, I start to strip off my gear and place it into the large receptacle attached to the wall. As soon as I am completely naked, the bin reseeds back into the wall headed off to the incinerator. Damn ,I really liked that gun, but once it hit the atmosphere of another time, it was doomed to be melted down back to its base elements. A voice comes on through the intercom, “Please step into the decontamination booth for sterilization.” I walk over to what looks like an old time phone booth and step in. Immediately the door shuts behind me and the booth is pressurized. The ice cold blue sterilization liquid starts pouring from the holes on the sides of the booth. In an instant, I'm completely submerged. It's over as fast as it started, and when I step out of the booth, I find a fresh set of clothes placed in a bin on the near wall. Once dressed, I wait for the door to open and my reintroduction to civilization can begin.

The station is empty as usual, as you may have guessed, there are not many people suited for this line of work. There are ten people, including myself, assigned to the special task force code name: UTL Not counting the chief, that is. I walk past the secretary Janet with a smile and a wave. Of course, she looks at me with disgust. Who can blame her? I slept with her six months ago and never called. Hey, I just needed to blow off some steam after a particularly hard assignment. I don't feel bad though. She's been with this our squad long enough to know the true nature of the men that do this job. I reach in my desk drawer and grab my keys and duffel bag, and I head out the door. The elevator right outside the front door takes me fifty feet up to the surface; as with most buildings now, our headquarters are built underground. It's a cold night. The mild precipitation covers everything in sight with a light frost. My car remains where I parked it two days ago, before I started my mission. I give the voice command for the car to unlock itself, and immediately, the door opens, and the vehicle rumbles to life. The frost that covered her was melted away before I could reach the door. After being stuck in 1963 for two days, it reminded me why I love this time period so much. After entering the car, I hear the voice of my navigator, whom I've nicknamed Cece. “Where to Mr. Stone?” Hmm, let's go for a drink, Cece. “The moon bar?” Yea sounds good to me.

As the car raises off of the street, I recline fully and put on the radio. Usually I like to drive myself, but today I'll let the autopilot do its job. As I close my eyes and try to relax, I find myself thinking about his wife. She was beautifully dressed in all pink, with a classy pink hat cocked slyly to one side. The report said her name was Jacklyn. I wonder if she ever thought that one day her husband would be murdered right in front of her eye. What did she tell her children after that day? Was she at least satisfied that the first shooter had been caught? Before I can mull all these questions over, my car is lowering itself onto the parking platform. Thank God, I need a drink.

I walk in and take in my surroundings; the inside of the moon bar, as always, is bathed in a pale blue light, which resembled moonlight, hence the name. Ninteenth century smooth jazz plays over the sound system. I've grown fond of this type of music ever since that week I spent in 1920's. I find a seat up at the bar and order a double scotch on the rocks. Some things, like alcohol, are just timeless. The bar itself is solid white marble but warm to the touch. It always feels inviting. As I wait for my drink, I notice a blond sitting at the far corner of the bar. She's cute, definitely my type, a slender waist but with thighs that say, “I'll keep you warm all night, honey.” If these drinks don't take my mind off things, she will have to do. After I've had four or five drinks my mind starts to wander again. I begin to think about my last target, John. We aren't suppose to refer to our targets by their real names. Complete abstraction is what we were taught at the academy, “The one you name is the one you can't kill”.

Dammit all, where'd that blond go. I get up to find her, but before the search for my next “target” starts, I run into someone didn't expect. The chief. He's sitting in a booth by himself waiting for his pint of what appeared to be guiness to refresh itself. We make eye contact, and he gestures for me to come over. I don't dare say no. The chief is a living legend. He's said to be the one that caused the first ice age by blowing a crater the size of Texas into the earth with a 3 ton anti-matter bomb. This is probably more myth then reality, but no matter what, he is the one person on this planet that I am truly afraid of. I causally walk over to his booth, but when I get there, my nerves of steal vanish, and I'm at a lost for words. I can end a life in a second but can't muster up the courage to address my commanding officer. Finally the silence is broken by the Chief, “Sit down son.” Yes sir. “What'll you have?” Sc ..Sco..Scotch on the rocks, sir. At the sound of my voice, my drink pops out of a compartment from under table and lands in front of me. We sit, sipping our drinks until once again, the chief speaks up, “So you just got back from your last assignment. How was it?” Uhh..it went well. Sir. Target eliminated with little trouble. Before the Chief responds, I already know he can see right through my weak excuse for an explanation. “Son, I've been doing this for a long time. It'll take a lot more then that to fool me. You wanna try that again?” Yes, sir. I don't know if it's the alcohol, or the chief's intense gaze, but this time, I tell him everything. From my lack of concentration to not getting over the look of the man's wife. I even call the target by his real name. John. Shit, I'll definitely get kicked off the force for this.

After I divulge everything, there was a long pause. The chief doesn't say a word, he just sat there sipping his drink. “Well son let me tell you a story. I was about your age when I got my first real kill mission. I had been on the force for about a year or so. The location: Austria, in the early twentieth century. My target was a young college aged boy, no older than nineteen. My job was to find him and terminate him in a place where he'd be spotted relatively quickly. After a day of searching, I found the target. I started to tail him until I could find a good location to make my move. The perfect opportunity arose when he walked into this cafe off of the main road. The place was empty besides the target, the waitress and myself. All I had to do was wait for the waitress to lose track of us, and I'd slip my combat knife in between his third and fourth rib and twist, then I'd make my escape out of the cafe right before the jump time. In order to do this, I needed to be closer to the target. Rookie mistake. I sat next to him at the counter, and he immediately struck up a conversation. He told me about how he'd just been declined for admission to yet another art school, and how his girlfriend left him. I really did feel sorry for the kid. “Do you know what happened next, son?” Umm..you put your emotions aside and eliminated the target just in time? “HAHA yea I wish, but no, I couldn't do it. I ran outside and hid until my jump time.

I can't believe this man, the man I fear so much, is telling me this. I am utterly blown away. “Mason, what is the main rule of our squadron?” 'You only get one chance to complete a jump. There is no jumping back; failure is not an option.' As I recite the motto of our squadron, I can see tears forming in the corner of the chief's eyes. “Mason do you know how many people died in the holocaust?” Six million sir. “Yea you're right, six million. I sleep with the lives of six million people weighing on my conscious. Always remember this son, it's not what we do that determines the future, it's what we don't do.” As I think of a way to tell the chief that he just gave me enough faith to stick with my duty, my wrist communicator starts to beep. “I guess its time for you to go, son” Yes sir, thanks for the drink. “Anytime, good luck” As I leave the bar and head for my car, I look down at my communicator to see who my target is. I don't know who this person is, but what I do know now is that the world will be a much better place after I eliminate him.

Beyond Race

Lena Melton

Beyond Race

Characters:

Javier
Liana

Setting: Javier’s car

[It’s 2:00 a.m. Javier and Liana are an interracial couple who have been dating for four years. Javier is driving Liana home after another unsettling moment (regarding race) with Javier’s family.]

Liana: “Your dad needs to learn etiquette or manners or something.”

Javier: “Li, you know he didn’t mean it like that. You know he doesn’t mean any harm, he’s not like that.”

Liana: “Don’t you think it’s odd that he hands me a newspaper with a recent murder description and asks me, ‘This is around your neighborhood isn’t it?’ Murders happen every day in New Orleans, why out of nowhere would he ask me this and assume it’s around my neighborhood?

Javier: “You know how protective my parents are of me. He saw that I was bringing you home so… I don’t know, he just thought he’d ask.”

Liana: “So you’re saying it has nothing to do with the fact that I live in the 9th ward; or the fact that the 9th ward is a predominantly black community. He should have actually looked up whether or not that murder was even around my neighborhood. Not shove a paper in front of my face and assume it’s my neighborhood. Turns out it’s nowhere near where I live.”
[Javier shifts in the car seat uncomfortably and pushes down on the gas pedal a little harder.]

Javier: “He doesn’t think when he speaks. I mean when he saw the look on your face he even said, ‘not to offend you’. My parents say stupid stuff like that all the time. You usually don’t get this upset over it.”

Liana: “Well, this is the first time I actually feel offended. That’s my neighborhood, where I’ve grown up; I take a lot of pride in that. Kids ride their bikes around the neighborhood day and night. Just because there are a lot of deserted houses after Katrina, doesn’t make it dangerous. Worst of all you just stood there, letting your dad humiliate me in front of your entire family. You’re lucky I didn’t respond. I should have said, ‘No actually my neighborhood’s pretty safe. Were not a bunch of Ni**as running around shooting each other up.”

Javier: “Li !! You never say that word. What’s going on with you tonight, this isn’t like you at all?”

Liana: “Well that’s how your dad was looking at me. Like some common hood rat off the streets. If he thinks that then fine, I’ll really act like one.”

Javier: “So we’re playing this role again?”

Liana: “What role? What’re you talking about!?”

Javier: “The bourgeois black girl and the stereotypical uppity Hispanic family.”

Liana: “Don’t call me that, you know I’m not bourgeois.”

Javier: “Yes well you sure are acting like it. You’re so focused on race and how you look that you forget that maybe my dad was simply asking a question. Not even thinking about any racial implications.”

Liana: “Let’s face it Javier, the only reason your parents approve of us dating is because of the way I look, act, and speak. Your mom’s expressed how she feels about darker skinned black people and it wasn’t very pretty. Your parents look at me, the fact that I have money, my background, and they see I’m light skinned so they think I’m “safe enough” for their son to date.”

Javier: “How can you say things like that? My parents have taken you in as if you were their future daughter-in-law. Yes, my mom has said some really ignorant things about black people, but at the end of the day she has a good heart and you know it. Besides whatever their ideals are, that isn’t a reflection of my own ideals.”

Liana: [pauses and fiddles with her purse] “Yes, I suppose so.”

Javier: “Enough of the melodrama, let’s just enjoy the little time we have left together before we go back to work and school.”

Liana: “Fine.”

[Javier turns the radio to Q 93.3 hoping to ease the tension. A commercial for the club, The Duck Off, comes on.]

Liana: “We should try The Duck Off once, just to see how it is, we could really use some fun right about now.”

Javier: [smirking] “Uhhh, I don’t know, will they let me in?”

Liana: Of course! Why wouldn’t they let you in?”

[Silence]

Liana: “Well?!? Why wouldn’t they----oh because predominately a lot of black people go to it…”

Javier: “Well I just didn’t think they’d let me in.”

Liana: “You’re an idiot. This isn’t the 60’s Javier. Things aren’t “blacks only”, “Latino’s only” so of course they’d let you in.” Why would you ask such a question? I bet if I said, ‘Let’s go to Republic, or The Frat, or Amps you wouldn’t ask, ‘will they let me in’?”

Javier: “OKAY, I’m sorry, you’re right I wasn’t thinking. You know I’m not like that. It’s late and I’m tired. I’m sorry okay.”

Liana: “We’ve been together four years and this is the first time race is an issue, I don’t like it.”

Javier: “You’re just racially sensitive because of what happened with my dad earlier I’m gonna talk to him because I don’t want this happening again and I’m gonna think before I speak. Can we please just go back to Javier and Liana not black girl and Hispanic boy.”

Liana: “Yes, we can. Maybe we were wrong before. We can’t just ignore race. Yes, you’re Hispanic and I’m black but that doesn’t matter when it comes to us. We’ll find a way to bring the two cultures together.”

[Javier pulls into Liana’s driveway]

Javier: “Yes, I agree. Maybe both of us can try and be more understanding.”

Liana: “Alright well I’m exhausted emotionally. I don’t know about you, but I think I’ll call it a night.”

[Javier and Liana kiss but Liana pauses before she gets out the car]

Liana: “So when people stare, you know when we’re out at restaurants or the malls and when people look surprised when we’re introduced as boyfriend and girlfriend, you don’t care?”

Javier: “Nope, that’s their problem not mine. I just tell myself they’re staring at how sexy we are and keep it movin’.”

Liana: [laughing] “Goodnight bae.”

Javier: “Goodnight love.”

[Liana gets out of Javier’s car feeling a little relieved about what’s in store for them in the future, as a couple.]

End

Hitchcock's: I Saw the Whole Thing

ACT I

Scene 1

It is 1961 in Greensdale,a small populated city in New Jersey, a young woman is standing outside a department store angrily waiting for someone to arrive.

Cathy: [exhaling with frustration] He better get here and fast.
Dale: Hey there Cathy! Missed you at my party last night.
Cathy: [even more frustrated] Gosh Dale can’t you take a hint!
Dale: Come down Cathy, I’m just saying hello.
Cathy: [a little regretful of her previous tone] Sorry Dale, but I told you I wasn’t interested. And you know Jeff freaks so you better leave before he gets here!
Dale: [voice gradually getting lower as he walks away] Alright but he can’t get mad I was just passing by, this is a public street anyway!
Cathy: [her foot starting to tap as her anger increases]If he doesn’t get here I swear..

STREETCH!! CRASH.
A car just ran the stop sign and a motorcycle unable to stop his already increasing speed crashed into the car. The man is ejected off his motorcycle and crashes hard to the pavement.

Cathy: [concerned she runs to the aid of the victim]

Several other witnesses run to the man to see if he is alright. One of them calls 911 and and the paramedics are there shortly.

SCENE END

SCENE BEGIN. At the city police station, a man walks up to the counter. He waits for one of the officers to hang up the phone and speak with him.

Officer: Yes? How can I help you?
Fred:[hesitantly] I think I need to turn myself in
Officer: Okay, for what?
Fred: You know that hit and run that happened yesterday?
Officer: Yes what about it?
Fred: [remorsefully] Yeah… well… I was the driver.
Officer: [after picking up the phone and making a phone call to the detective he points him into an interrogation room] I see. Step into this room here and make a statement with the detective.
Detective Nash: So my officer informs me that you were the driver of the hit and run yesterday. State your name and tell me what happened.
Fred: My name is Fred Barnes. And well you see, after stopping at the stop sign, a motorcycle in the other lane just slammed into me.
Detective Nash: We have 3 witnesses’ that say otherwise. They say you ran the stop sign and hit the cyclist.
Fred: [becoming defensive] THAT IS NOT TRUE!
Detective Nash: Calm down, Barnes. You’ll have your day in court.
Fred: How is the other driver anyway?
Detective Nash: He’s in critical condition, but the doctor’s say they think he will pull through.
Fred: That’s good. Well what happens now?
Detective Nash: Go home, find a lawyer and wait for your court date.

SCENE END

ACT II

SCENE BEGIN. Inside Fred Barnes home office. Fred walks in with his friend Marshal Erikson, who is a defense attorney. He pours them both a glass of scotch and they start discussing the situation.

Fred: [putting the cork back on the bottle of scotch] So you see why I can’t tell June, she’s under enough stress with the baby being born premature.
Marshal [looks at Fred with concern]: They’re both still in the hospital?
Fred: [exhaling] Yeah, the doctor said two weeks tops.
Marshal: Well keep me updated. So we need to get you ready for trial. Now when I ask you questions, you have to act confident and speak clear—
Fred: [cutting Marshal off] Actually Marshal, I’m going to be representing myself.
Marshal: [shockingly] WHAT! Are you crazy? This is serious, a hit and run is a felony. You could get 15 years for this! They have---
Fred: [interrupting Marshal again] I know, I know. But I really didn’t do anything wrong. How can they find me guilty?
Marshal: Well what’d you call me down here for then?
Fred: I’ll need you for the legal work.
Marshal: [still in disbelief] Are you sure, Fred?
Fred: [unsure but determined] Yes. Now I’ll need you to research the witnesses and teach me how to speak in court.

SCENE END.

SCENE BEGIN.

Inside the Greensdale City court with Judge Judy Donnely, and witnesses Miss Cathy Beard, Mr. Jack Peabody, and Lt. Sam Sanders and Distinct Attorney Henry Lawson.

The Bailiff says “All Rise” and court begins.

Judge Donnely: [sternly] On one count of leaving the scene of a crime and causing injury to another, Mr. Barnes how do you plead?

Fred: Not guilty your honor.

Judge Donnely: D.A. Lawson, you may proceed.

Lawson: The state calls Miss Cathy Beard to the stand.

Bailiff:[raising his right hand and swearing in Cathy] Please raise your right hand. Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth?

Cathy: Mhm.
Bailiff: [slightly offended] Please answer with a “Yes” or “No”.
Cathy: [childishly] My bad… Yes.
Bailiff: Have a seat.
Lawson: Miss Beard, please tell me where you were before the accident.
Cathy: [smacking gum] I was waiting outside Marley’s Boutique, waiting on that slime ball to show up.
Lawson: [becoming angry at Cathy’s immaturity] So you were outside the shopping mall, facing the scene of the crime correct?

[Cathy nodding]

Lawson: Then what happened?
Cathy:[pointing to Fred] I saw that man run the stop sign, hit the guy on the motorcycle then keep going.
Lawson: [heading back to his seat] Okay, thank you Miss Beard.
Cathy: [smiling and acting like she provided enough evidence for the guilty verdict already] Your Welcome.
Fred: In the beginning of your statement you said “slime ball,” right?
Cathy: [irritably] Yes, and I’d rather not talk about that piece of dirt.
Fred: [excitedly and curious] Why what happened?
Cathy: He left me waiting there all day. Never called or anything!
Fred: Okay, and what were you thinking?
Cathy: I was thinking how I was never going to talk to him again. Then I heard the crash.
Fred: [jumping on the hole he might have just found in her story] So you were not even looking at the accident. You only looked once you heard it?
Cathy: [confused and defensive] No… I saw the sports car run the stop sign and hit the motorcyclist.
Fred: But you said you were thinking then heard the crash. You did not really see the accident at all.

[The jury is taken back and their mood changes]

Cathy: Well… I meant…
Fred: No more questions Judge Donnely, Thank you.
Cathy: [exasperatedly walking off ] Ugh
Judge Donnely: D.A. Lawson, you may call in your next witness.
Lawson: The state calls Lieutenant Sanders to the stand.

[Enter Lt. Sanders. The bailiff swears him in.]

Lawson: How are you Lt. Sanders? Now tell me about the accident.

Lt. Sanders: [answering the D.A.’s first questions kind of hasty] Fine. Well I was two cars back at the adjacent stop sign, when I saw the driver of the sport’s car, run the stop sign. Then, hit the motorist and not stop to check.

Lawson: And you’re sure of this?

Lt. Sanders: Yes sir, I was right there watching.

Lawson: Thank You Lieutenant.

[Lawson sits and Fred approaches]

Fred: Good afternoon Lieutenant, are you positive of the story you just told the court?

Lt. Sanders: [angry that his statement has been questioned] Yes! I telling was you and I told him, I was at the adjacent stop sign and the sports car ran the stop sign, hitting the innocent man on the motorcycle.

Fred: [Timidly] One last question, what were you thinking during the accident?

Lt. Sanders:[gladly speaking his mind] How irresponsible some people are! Innocent lives are in danger all the time!

Fred: Wasn’t one of your soldiers in an accident earlier this year?

Lt. Sanders: [eyes dropping to the floor, reliving the horrific accident] It was not an accident! He was murdered by an enemy solider in a tank. Just ran him straight over; he was under my direction too.

Fred: [aiming around his weakness] Do you think about this a lot?

Lt. Sanders:[self-disciplining then defensive] I blame myself every day. But you clearly ran the stop sign and hit that man!

Fred:[ feeling accomplished ] Thank You, Sir. No more questions.

[The jury looking at each other, reaching a familiar conclusion about this witness]

[Lawson looking stressed and shuffling papers]

Judge Donnely: Your last witness Mr. Lawson?

Lawson: [shaky] Um, yes. The state calls Mr. Jack Peabody to the stand.

[Mr. Peabody enters and the bailiff swears him in]

Lawson: Mr. Peabody, can you tell me what you saw?

Mr. Peabody:[firmly] I was gardening in my garden, when I saw one of those dang flashy cars, run a stop sign and hit that poor man on the motorcycle.

Lawson: Which direction were you in?

Mr. Peabody: I was directly facing the accident, I saw the whole thing.

Lawson: Thank You, Mr. Peabody. No more questions

Judge Donnely: Mr. Barnes, your witness.

Fred: Mr. Peabody, I just want to ask you what I have asked all the other witnesses, and that is, what were you thinking when you witnessed the accident?

Mr. Peabody: That those dang brazen sports cars should be outlawed. Nothing good comes from them. They go too fast and their uncontrollable.

Fred: Mr. Peabody, do you have kids?

Mr. Peabody:[reluctantly] No.

Fred: [sympathetically] Did you once have kids?

Mr. Peabody: [almost tearful] Yes…one. My boy, Johnny. He was a miracle because Betsey and I were so old. We just figured we were not met to have kids.

Fred: What happened?

Mr. Peabody: [staring at a floor board with a few single tears falling] I was watching him play from the kitchen window. He was playing with his red and blue tin wind up airplane when I turned my head for one second…his plane managed to get into the street and a car did not see him.

Fred: I’m Sorry Sir. I just have one final question, what kind of car was it? That hit your son?

Mr. Peabody: [grudgingly] It was a dark blue, 1961 ford mustang with two white stripes going from the hood to the back of the car.

Fred: Thank You. No further questions.

Judge Donnley: [bangs gavel] Alright court will take a short recess for lunch then resume at 1 P.M today and the defense will take the stand.

Fred: [shocked as if his uvula turned into a rock and dropped to the bottom of his esophagus. He lean over to Marshal] What? I have to take the stand?

Marshal: [pleased with his training] Don’t worry about it you did great! Man, I never thought you’d pull it off but there’s no way the jury can find you guilty now!

Bailiff:[refolding a letter he just read that an officer outside the court room handed him and gains the whole courts attention] Excuse me, your honor, but the victim has just died in ICU.

[The Bailiff and Judge talk in the background, the jury and other people inside the courtroom continue to pack up and leave ]

Marshal: Oh dear.

Fred:[now not only nervous but confused] What? What does that mean Marshal?

Marshal: Well, it means your charge of hit and run just turned into a vehicular manslaughter.

Fred: [sits back in his courtroom chair]

[Fades to black with Marshal’s hands on Fred’s shoulder with an inaudible conversation.]

Act III

[Fades back to court room scene, set like it was before but it is now 1:00 P.M]

Bailiff: All rise for the honorable Judge Donnely

Jude Donnely: You may be seated. D.A. Lawson, call your next witness.

Lawson: The defense calls Fred Barnes to the stand.

[Bailiff swears Fred in, he nervously accepts the oath]

Lawson: Mr. Barnes---

Fred:[loudly] I plea the fifth!

[The jury is filled with quiet taking and gasping. They have all reached the same conclusion. The judge and D.A. Lawson are both shocked but it is possible action]

Judge Donnley: You may return to your seat.

Lawson: [pretentiously smiling] The state rests.

Judge Donnley: Mr. Barnes?

Fred: the defense rests.

Judge Donnley: Alright, the jury must now deliberate.

[The jury is escorted out by the bailiff]

[Almost hours pass and the jury returns with a verdict]

Judge Donnely: Has the jury reached a verdict?

Juror: No, you honor.

[Indiscriminate speech is heard in the background]

Judge Donnelly: [bangs gavel] The result of the verdict is a mistrial. Fred Barnes is free to go.

Fred: [ throwing his fist in the air] YES!

Marsal: [joyously shaking Fred] I can’t believe you did it!

Fred: I know! now I got to go visit Besty.

SCENE END

SCENE BEGIN. Fred and Marshal are walking down a hallway outside the neonatal hospital unit. They stop outside the window and are looking at the new born babies.

Marshal: Hey Fred, so if you did not really run the stop sign why wouldn’t you take the stand.

Fred: Well Marshal, because I couldn’t commit perjury. I wasn't even there and I wasn't driving my car that day.

[the nurse places Fred’s baby in a bed in front of the window]

END

Ava and Ethan

CHARACTERS

Ethan: 27-year-old Minnesotan, dark brown hair slicked back, half-frame horn-rimmed glasses, interested in the occult. Self-loathing.

Ava: 23-year-old sister of Ethan, blonde shoulder length hair, big brown eyes, wide smile with a small gap between her two front teeth. She’s always eating

SETTING

It’s a Wednesday in the middle of January at 7pm and Ava is planted in front of the television in the art- deco living room of their Uptown Minneapolis apartment, wrapped in a zebra print Snuggie, preparing to view her favorite television shows Parks & Recreation and The Office. With the popcorn bowl in her lap and the remote in her left hand, she is ready to lose herself in TV land. Just as she’s about to turn on the television her brother returns home from an afternoon date.

SCENE

Lights come up with a spotlight on Ethan, the light’s still dim around Ava and the glow from the television is highlighting her face.

AVA: Back so soon?
ETHAN: Huh? Yeah, you know we...
AVA: It’s still snowing?
ETHAN: What?
AVA: The snow flakes on your jacket look fresh; they’re melting onto the floor.
ETHAN: Oh, yeah, it is.
AVA: Hm...
ETHAN: “So how was the date, Ethan?”
AVA: So how was the date, Ethan?

Ava focuses her attention on the popcorn bowl in her lap and begins eating. Ethan removes his plaid scarf, endlessly wrapped around his neck, and places it on the coat rack. He brushes the water droplets from the snow off of his camel colored, mohair coat and returns it to its place on the coat rack. He then removes his hefty winter boots, the coloring of which matched his coat perfectly, and plops himself on the couch next to his sister.

ETHAN: Great.

Ava smiles.

AVA: That was convincing.
ETHAN: (more sincerely) I mean, she was cute. She was really cute. She was the cutest.

Ava grabs a handful of popcorn and forces it into her mouth, dropping pieces back into and around the bowl in the process. She begins to speak again while chewing.

AVA: Wait. Are you trying to remind yourself she’s cute?
ETHAN: I mean...
AVA: She was awful, wasn’t she?
ETHAN: (defensively) Not at all.

Ava giggles lightly to herself dropping pieces of chewed popcorn onto her snuggie. She turns her full attention to Ethan for the first time since he’s returned to the apartment.

AVA: What’d you talk about?
ETHAN: We crawled into the backseat of her car and talked about the ghosts haunting her house.
AVA: She sounds ideal.
ETHAN: And she was great. She was the perfect cocktail of charisma and charm with a hint of dead inside.
AVA: So what was the problem?

Ethan shrugs.

ETHAN: Me.

Ava lets out a full laugh this time shaking the bowl on her laugh. Ethan finds this amusing rather than insulting and chuckles at his younger sister.

AVA: What are you talking about?
ETHAN: I don’t know.
AVA: That’s strange, tell me what’s up.
ETHAN: I feel like if I enter into a relationship, with anyone, literally anyone, I will just ruin them.
AVA: (confused) What?

Ethan stands up and begins pacing around the living room in front of the television. He’s gesturing wildly with his hands while he’s speaking. The entire time Ava is trying to look around him to see what’s happening on the T.V. screen.

ETHAN: (hurriedly) Ava, I wake up every morning at 6:30am to drag myself into the bathroom where I brush my teeth with the same Aquafresh toothpaste I’ve been using since I was 7-years-old. I take a luke warm shower using one of the 20 bars of Ivory soap I keep in the linen closet. I get dressed in either a deep grey or navy blue suit, dark brown saddle shoes, and place a camel mohair jacket over the ensemble. I eat a bowl of Raisin Bran with skim milk, then I grab my coffee mug, fill it with dark roast and two cubes of sugar, and head off to work. When I return home I remove my jacket and shoes at the door to plant myself on the couch in the same position I’m in now so I can spend my time watching countless episodes of Ghost Adventures and Paranormal State until I’m hungry and order a large cheese pizza and a two-liter of diet coke from Domino’s.

Ethan stops pacing and stands directly in front of the T.V.

AVA: That sounds like a good life.
ETHAN: That sounds like an awful life.

He sits back down in his spot next to Ava.

AVA: I think you’re just getting too down on yourself. Everyone has a routine.
ETHAN: I just don’t want to introduce her to my routine.
AVA: Your past girlfriends didn’t seem to have a problem.
ETHAN: My past girlfriends had daddy issues and spent their nights smoking pot in the bathrooms of the restaurants we went to for dinner.
AVA: (incredulously) What?
ETHAN: Don’t worry about it. The point is, I’m not going to be who this girl wants me to be.
AVA: (annoyed) You’re too dramatic. Just chill out, go put on your periodic table of elements shirt and pajama pants and come watch T.V. with me. You’ll feel better.
ETHAN: I sleep in that shirt whenever I’m sad.

Ava silently stares at her brother, her brown eyes getting larger than Ethan thought possible. She suddenly shoves the popcorn bowl into Ethan’s hands (it’s about empty at this point and he doesn’t understand how) and walks into the kitchen, wrapping her snuggie tighter around her body.

AVA: Well then. I’m making something to eat. I’ve been craving breakfast foods all day, so bacon here I come!

Ethan laughs as he places the popcorn bowl on the coffee table next to an untouched cup of hot chocolate he didn’t even notice was there.

ETHAN: You’re ridiculous.
AVA: No, you are. You’re ending a relationship you haven’t even started yet.
ETHAN: I’m doing what needs to happen.

Ava begins searching through the kitchen cabinets for a frying pan.

AVA: (annoyed, very stern) You’re doing what you think needs to happen. I doubt you want to do this, she’s everything you want. You’re probably everything she wants.
ETHAN: How do you know?
AVA: She believes in ghosts and you were willing to talk to her about them. Do you know how many guys would immediately call her crazy? I’m betting she’s into all kinds of spooky things and you love cults, Ouija boards, witchcraft, and horror movies. If you don’t ask her out again just because of ridiculous insecurity, you’re crazy.

She finds a pan and takes the bacon out of the fridge. She begins placing eight pieces of bacon on the frying pan.

ETHAN: You know, when we were waiting in line to buy movie tickets she leaned against my arm.
AVA: You love that.
ETHAN: And when we were waiting through the previews after we found our seats, she planned out our funerals. She wants “Don’t Fear The Reaper” played at hers.
AVA: You see what I mean? You two are perfect for each other.
ETHAN: I don’t know what to do.
AVA: Just call her and ask her out on another date. Stop worrying, she’ll say yes. In other news, do you want any of this bacon?
ETHAN: (not disgusted) Not at all.

Ava places the bacon onto a napkin that’s on a plate. She walks back into the living room and begins eating her bacon. As she sits down Ethan gets up and begins roaming around the living room.

AVA: Great. What are you looking for?
ETHAN: My phone.
AVA: It’s on the table next to the front door.
ETHAN: Thanks. I’m going to give her a call. Hey, how do you know exactly what to say to me?

Ethan picks up his phone and starts to search for his dates number. He’s smiling at the thought of her answering and at the words his sister has said to him.

AVA: You’re my brother, I know you better than anyone else.
ETHAN: Well thank you.
AVA: Want to hug me about it?

His smile gets bigger.

ETHAN: (laughing) Absolutely not.
AVA: Suit yourself. Go make your phone call Prince Charming.
ETHAN: Try not to chew so loud while I’m on the phone, you sound like you’re tearing apart the carcass of a buffalo.
AVA: Don’t be ridiculous this is from a pig.
ETHAN: You’re so...
AVA: You know, everyone would be healthy if green vegetables tasted as good as bacon.

Ethan laughs to himself as he watches Ava tear apart pieces of bacon. He turns his attention back to his cell phone and dials his dates number.

ETHAN: Great. You’re so great, Ava.

Lights down over Ethan. The lights over Ava go down as well, but the light from the T.V. remains and the audience sees Ava laughing at the T.V. with her mouth full.

END.

Junk

Characters
             
BEN: early-thirties, clean cut, business suit
 FOOD DELIVERY MAN: early-twenties
             

                                   SETTING

                    Ben's living room. The room has an antique desk
                    and chair set in the corner. There's a Persian rug
                    in the middle of the floor. There's a bookshelf on
                    the far wall facing the audience. It is full,
                    carefully lined with wildlife animals such as a
                    giraffe, panda, elephant, wolf etc. They're
                    realistic, but obviously children's toys and made
                    from various materials, plastic, ceramic, wood,
                    etc. The combination of animals doesn't matter, as
                    long as there's at least a LION with a mane.

          SCENE

                    Lights up. Dim. BEN walks in, and puts briefcase
                    on desk. He takes off his coat, and sets it around
                    the chair. He slowly walks across the shelf, and
                    stops to pat one of the animals.

               BEN: (to all animals in general): I saw Chris at the
               store. I looked up and there he was across the produce
               section. We caught eyes...long enough for his face to
               say "I'm sorry." It's been six months and I'm tired of
               seeing that face. And it isn't just Chris. It's
               everyone...No, I didn't say anything. I left. We used
               to be good friends. But now all he can do is say sorry
               and leave voicemails inviting me to go golfing. If I
               didn't like golfing before Rebecca died, why would I
               like it now?

                    Silence for a moment, then BEN turns around, and
                    grabs LION off the shelf.

               BEN: Yes, I said "died." What are you suggesting,
               Charles?...Shh. That's not true. Where's your respect?
               She didn't...It wasn't on pur-I don't understand. Shh.
               Quiet. Stop.

                    BEN shakes his head.


               BEN: Don't think about that. Remember. She's the one
               who brought you here. Sure, it was my idea to open a
               wildlife preserve. Yeah, one day, Becca and I were
               going to go to Africa and Asia and wherever else the
               real life versions of you exist. She put you here as
               little reminders of how our lives would be different.
               She promised. We were going to go together.

                    BEN sits on rug with LION in his lap.


               BEN: It sounded crazy, getting together some scientists
               and buying some land,but helping animals is a better
               cause than helping people. People are too good at
               messing themselves up, messing each other up. Rebecca
               thought so too. Even if my dream sounded crazy to my
               mom or my brother, and of course I never told
               Chris-even if it seemed stupid to everyone else, Becca
               said it was gonna happen. And I loved her for that.

                    Silence and then BEN shakes LION.


               BEN: Be quiet. Please, be quiet, Charles. Yes, I did
               say "loved." But what do you expect? I want to say I
               feel her around me, but I don't.

                    BEN looks at LION again.


               BEN: No. I'm not forgetting her!

                    BEN throws LION across the room. It breaks, but he
                    doesn't notice at first.


               BEN: I'm not forgetting her. Rebecca isn't here,
               Charles. I don't understand it, either. She was. But
               now she's not. There's nothing anyone can do. There's
               nothing I can do...Well...there is one thing. I've been
               afraid of that stuff. That junk. That shit that stole
               her from me. I've been thinking. Maybe if I had
               understood her better, this would never have happened.
               Maybe I can still understand.

                    BEN sets stands up and walks over to his desk and
                    opens drawer. At the same time, FOOD DELIVERY MAN
                    appears onstage and KNOCKS on BEN's door. BEN
                    shuts drawer. KNOCKING continues. BEN goes to door
                    and opens it a crack. BEN stands in silence. FOOD
                    DELIVERY MAN holds some Styrofoam boxes in a
                    plastic bag.


               FOOD DELIVERY MAN: Here's your dinner.

                    BEN stares.


               FOOD DELIVERY MAN: Your dinner.
               BEN: I didn't place an-
               FOOD DELIVERY MAN: Look, I'm not up for your games. Not
               tonight. We both know every Tuesday your mama calls up
               Chinese Panda and has us deliver you some dinner. Pays
               for it by phone and has us deliver it to you.
               BEN: I didn't-
               FOOD DELIVERY MAN: I got more places to go. Just take
               the food, man.
               BEN: Let me check with my...

                    BEN trails off as he closes the door in FOOD
                    DELIVERY MAN's face. A few KNOCKS then FOOD
                    DELIVERY MAN leaves bag outside the door. BEN
                    walks back to desk and pulls out cotton, alcohol
                    swabs, syringe, spoon, tiny package, etc. from the
                    desk and sits on the middle of the rug.


               BEN: You left all this, Bec. Did you want me to find
               it? I had to search online to find out what
               all this was for, and then I looked up how to do it,
               how you did it. You'd be surprised how the world is
               filled with helpful druggies, just ready to teach
               someone how to shoot up. Ones who say they can
               "function in society." Or maybe you wouldn't be
               surprised. You were one of them, weren't you? When we
               first started dating you told me, straight out, "Ben, I
               had a problem. But I'm better now." And that was that.
               You never mentioned it again. You promised you were
               happy. But then...after five whole years...then...

                    BEN closes his eyes.


               BEN: I found her here. She did it here.

                    BEN unwraps tiny package, places contents on
                    spoon. BEN's PHONE RINGS. He's surprised and then
                    sets spoon and contents down on rug. He answers
                    phone and listens for a moment.


               BEN: What? Lucy? Is that you?... I'll see you at the
               office tomorrow morning...A movie? But it's...what time is it?
               ... Yes, seven P.M...Yes,I'm busy. I'm in the middle of cooking.

                    (Long Pause)

               BEN: Yes, ok. Have your presentation ready for the
               board in the morning.

                    BEN puts his phone away, then looks at junk etc.


               BEN: I'm forgetting something.

                    BEN sets SPOON AND CONTENTS down on rug. Exits
                    Stage. Few moments. Then BEN returns with a glass
                    of water and sets it down next to junk etc.


               BEN: I'm forgetting something else...Charles? Charles!
               Where are you?

                    BEN sees LION across the room. Walks over and
                    picks it up.


               BEN: No. No. No. Your tail. Shoot. Your tail! Shit.
               It's broken. I promised her I'd keep you safe, Charles,
               and now your tail's broken off. I didn't mean it.

                    BEN turns LION towards him so they're face to
                    face.


               BEN: Do you really think she meant it? But she promised
               us. She promised me she was better...And now what? What
               am I supposed to do?

                    BEN sits on rug and sets LION down, faces it
                    opposite him.


               BEN: I've just got to understand.

                    BEN prepares the rest of the junk and holds needle
                    to his arm.


               BEN: She never told me. I've got to understand.

                    Lights down.


                    Long Pause.


                    Lights up.

                    Ben is passed out on the floor with LION in his
                    hand. Bookshelf is empty and there's a big
                    cardboard box next to it.


                    Lights down.

          END