PATRIOTS

By

Enrique R. Carrasco

© Enrique R. Carrasco 2025

SYNOPSIS

The play interrogates the meaning of a patriot in an authoritarian regime. Set in the near future, Juan Hernandez and Fabienne Baptiste are imprisoned in a detention facility for threatening the nation’s purity. Mike is a facility guard who oversees them. Considered a patriot, Mike over a period of years realizes the horror of his job. As a way to survive, Juan and Fabienne exchange rich memories of their lives. When told by the facility director, Childers, to begin exterminating the detainees, beginning with Juan and Fabienne, Mike helps Juan escape, Fabienne having died just beforehand. Juan promises to find Mike’s teenage son, Daren, and to take him to safety while Mike stays at the facility to find Childers. A year later, Vivian, a girl Juan befriended in high school, finds Daren in an alley. Juan, who was called to a front to fight in the resistance, gave her a letter Mike had written to Daren. In it, Mike tells his son that the detainees are true patriots. After telling Daren that his father couldn’t be found, Vivian pledges that in memory of Fabienne she and Juan will fight in the resistance until all of detention facilities are shut down.

Playwright’s Note

Although the play is set in the United States, it explores three themes common to authoritarian (fascist) regimes arising globally today and to those in history: erasure of “the other,” complicity, and resistance. It is inspired in part by the dictatorship in Chile of Augusto Pinochet, leader of the military junta that overthrew the democratically elected government of Salvador Allende in (9/11) 1973. Thousands of perceived enemies of the regime were detained, tortured, and never seen again. They were the “desaparecidos,” or the “disappeared.” Ariel Dorfman has written that what the regime did was worse than murder, “denying people burial, as if they never existed.” Such regimes cannot exist without a complex web of complicit actors, ranging from the lone embittered person who assists in the torture of the detainees, to the intelligentsia who provide the regime’s conceptual justifications. But what provides hope is the diverse range of true patriots who come together to resist tyranny and oppression. Through its characters, the play shines a light on these themes and reminds us that the evils of such regimes can spread if we look the other way.

THE CHARACTERS

JUAN HERNANDEZ, Mexican-American in his 30s

FABIENNE BAPTISTE, Haitian-American woman in her 30s

MIKE JOHNSON, White in his 40s

DAREN, MIKE’s son in his early teens

VIVIAN MOORE, White in her 30s

CHILDERS, White in his 50s

Place

A city with a prison called “the facility”

Time

The near future

Setting: On stage right there are two cells divided by a wall. On stage left, a space that will be used interchangeably as MIKE’s apartment dining room, a prison room, a park, and an alley. Downstage is a space that acts as a walkway running in front of the cells where MIKE will pace and interact with JUAN and FABIENNE.

The props and costume designs are as follows: A mat in each cell; two buckets; tin plates with brownish matter; tin cups; and a rendering of some sort of a wall partitioning the cells. There’s a small table and two chairs in MIKE’S dining room (plates, tableware, bowl, mixing bowl, hand towel) and in the prison room.  There’s a bench in the park; a trash can in the alley. JUAN and FABIENNE wear nondescript long sleeve shirts and pants. In the prison, MIKE wears beige pants, shirt, and tie; he carries a gun. DAREN wears simple youth clothing, which becomes soiled in the alley. CHILDERS, who brings a black baton into the prison room, wears a black suit, white shirt, and black tie.  

This is the introduction to the play. The characters stand center stage.

JUAN

Throughout history there’s been darkness and light.

FABIENNE

The darkness of ruthless power.

FABIENNE

The power of fascists.

JUAN

The power of authoritarians.

JUAN

Power fueled by hate.

FABIENNE

Power fueled by resentment.

JUAN

Of the Other.

FABIENNE

Power that leads to massive detentions.

JUAN

Massive torture.

FABIENNE

To the disappearance of parents, sons, daughters, brothers, sisters, friends.

JUAN

Never seen again. Los desaparecidos.

VIVIAN

But where there’s darkness, there’s also light.

JUAN

Fueled by love.

VIVIAN

Fueled by hope.

JUAN

Of hundreds.

FABIENNE

Of thousands.

MIKE

Of even one. Of even me.

JUAN

Of even you.

MIKE

This is my story.

JUAN, FABIENNE, MIKE & VIVIAN

This is our story.

JUAN

A universal story.

MIKE

A story set in any time, any place.

FABIENNE

Where we’ve taken things for granted.

VIVIAN

Where we’ve looked the other way.

FABIENNE

At our own peril.

SCENE ONE

Lights fade up.

FABIENNE is lying face up on her mat, hands behind her head. JUAN is sitting alongside the wall. 

JUAN

You there?

FABIENNE

Where else would I be?

JUAN

Just checking.

FABIENNE

Why?

JUAN

Habit, I guess.

FABIENNE

Well, break it. Please.

JUAN

It’s not that easy.

FABIENNE

Try. You’ll be a better person for it.

   (pause)

JUAN

How long has it been?

FABIENNE

Why do you keep asking me that?

JUAN

It’s an obvious question, don’t you think?

FABIENNE

Here’s an idea.

JUAN

What?

FABIENNE

Stop thinking.

JUAN

Why would I do that?

FABIENNE

To stop torturing yourself. To stop torturing me.

JUAN

I don’t think it’s torture, you know, to ask. Seems like a natural question, especially here. I mean it would be weird to ask, like, would you like cream with your coffee? Or, what’s the color of your wallpaper?

FABIENNE

You’re weird.

JUAN

Rude.

   (pause)

But, really, how long, do you think?

FABIENNE

I’m not sure. I’ve stopped counting.

JUAN

A year?

FABIENNE

Maybe.

JUAN

Longer than that. I think.

FABIENNE

I said stop thinking.

JUAN

I can’t.

   (long pause)

FABIENNE

However long it’s been, time can be a weapon.

JUAN

Weapon?

FABIENNE

I’ve never thought about it that way, but now I have.

JUAN

   (overly eager to start a conversation)

Go on.

FABIENNE

There are so many ways—

JUAN

Yeah.

FABIENNE

So many—

JUAN

Tell me.

FABIENNE

Ways—

JUAN

Uh-huh.

FABIENNE

Will you let me finish?

JUAN

Of course.

FABIENNE

You always do that.

JUAN

Do what?

FABIENNE

Interrupt me.

JUAN

Sorry. You were saying?

FABIENNE

Time.

JUAN

I’m listening.

FABIENNE

We use it in so many ways in our lives. What time is it?

JUAN

I don’t know.

FABIENNE

For Christ’s sake, Juan, I mean that’s one example.

JUAN

Ah. Okay. Well, we can have the time of our lives. Happy times. Beautiful memories.

FABIENNE

Those will disappear.

JUAN

Why?

FABIENNE

Because time is a weapon to erase us, people like you and me. All of us who aren’t them. We’ll never see the light of day again. With time, we’ll disappear, along with our memories. It’ll be as if we never existed.

JUAN

We can’t let that happen, Fabienne. That’s all we have now, our memories. They keep us alive.

FABIENNE

They won’t. They’re just memories.

JUAN

You’re wrong. Memories tell us we’re human, you know? Like…seeing our reflection in a mirror. We know we exist. We won’t disappear.

FABIENNE

You’re in denial.

JUAN

No, I’m not.

FABIENNE

Yes, you are, Juan. You’ve been in denial with every miserable moment.

   (pause)

JUAN

Can I ask you something?

FABIENNE

Please don’t.

JUAN

It’s actually a request.

   (pause)

Well, can I?

FABIENNE

Fuck. Fine.

JUAN

Can you share with me a happy memory?

   (pause)

Fabienne?

   (long pause)

Are you going to talk to me?

FABIENNE

I’m tired.

JUAN

Really?

FABIENNE

I’m done for the day.

JUAN

Wait, no!

FABIENNE

Leave me alone.

JUAN

We’re not finished.

FABIENNE

Yes, we are.

JUAN

Give me a memory! You were happy once! Tell me!

FABIENNE

Shut up, Juan!

(MIKE enters the walkway and speaks with forced   authority.)

MIKE

Hey!

FABIENNE

   (whispers)

Fuck.

MIKE

The two of you, shut up!

JUAN

Yes, sir.

MIKE

You know the rules.

JUAN

Of course.

MIKE

Then why are you talking?

FABIENNE

To pass the time.

MIKE

You’re a real smartass.

JUAN

She didn’t mean it. Did you, Fabienne.

MIKE

No names. You know why?

FABIENNE

Just tell us again and get it over with.

MIKE

You’re not worthy of names. You’re scum.

FABIENNE

Fine, boss.

MIKE

That’s right. I am the boss. I run the show. Say it.

   (pause)

Say it!

JUAN

You run the show.

MIKE

What?

JUAN

You run the show, sir.

MIKE

That’s right. You don’t follow the rules, you don’t eat.

FABIENNE

I’m fasting.

JUAN

Fab—

   (pause)

It won’t happen again, sir.

MIKE

Then why do it?

FABIENNE

Habit, sir.

MIKE

Then break it.

FABIENNE

   (under her breath)

That sounds familiar.

MIKE

What?

JUAN

We’ll try, sir.

MIKE

Try harder.

JUAN

We will, sir.

MIKE

Good.

(MIKE stands still to see if they talk. They don’t. He anxiously runs his hands through his hair. He pats his shirt down, straightens his tie and walks out. FABIENNE gives MIKE the finger.)

JUAN

I think he’s gone.

FABIENNE

He’s a genuine asshole.

JUAN

Why do you keep provoking him?

FABIENNE

It’s great entertainment.

JUAN

You keep doing this and bad things will happen.

FABIENNE

Like what?

JUAN

You are a smartass.

FABIENNE

What does it matter.

JUAN

I want to live, Fabienne. That’s what matters. I’ll tell him what he wants to hear if it will buy us time.

FABIENNE

You’re in denial. You always have been, Juan.

Lights down.

SCENE TWO

MIKE is seated in the facility room. JUAN and FABIENNE are lying on their mats in darkened cells.

Lights up.

   (CHILDERS enters holding a bag. MIKE stands up.)

CHILDERS

Mr. Johnson.

MIKE

Good afternoon, sir!

CHILDERS

Do you go by Michael or Mike?

MIKE

Mike is fine. But if you prefer Michael—

CHILDERS

Have a seat, Mike.

   (MIKE sits down quickly.)

CHILDERS

Do you know who I am?

MIKE

Mr. Childers. The new director.

   (CHILDERS looks sharply at MIKE.)

MIKE

Sir!

CHILDERS

According to your file, you’ve been here for about a year, correct?

MIKE

Yes, sir.

CHILDERS

How do you like your work?

MIKE

It’s…its’s very nice here. Sir.

CHILDERS

Very nice? Very nice is for children. Mike. Are you a child?

MIKE

No, sir!

CHILDERS

Of course not. You’re a patriot! Do you know what that means?

MIKE

Yes, sir! We are the guardians of our nation, sir!

CHILDERS

Yes, Mike! We are the guardians! And as guardians we are the last line of defense against them. The vermin that threaten the purity of our great nation. It’s a glorious calling, wouldn’t you agree?

MIKE

Absolutely, sir!

CHILDERS

Relax, Mike.

MIKE

Yes, sir!

CHILDERS

Take it down a notch. Michael.

MIKE

Okay.

(MIKE relaxes a bit. CHILDERS looks sharply at MIKE and MIKE tenses up.)

MIKE

Sir!

CHILDERS

Just kidding. Relax.

(MIKE relaxes; CHILDERS sits, crosses his legs, pulls out a pack of cigarettes, and offers a cigarette to MIKE.)

MIKE

No, thanks.

(CHILDERS takes out a cigarette, pulls a lighter from his pocket, lights a cigarette, takes a long pull, and slowly exhales; this should take a good amount of time.)

CHILDERS

Mike, since I’ve just arrived, I’m taking the time to meet all of the staff, especially the guards such as yourself. Sort of a meet and greet, if you will. This is important. Do you know why?

MIKE

Well—

CHILDERS

Because I need to be assured that each and every one of you is committed to the purpose of these facilities throughout the country. Can I count on you, Mike?

MIKE

Yes.

(CHILDERS raises his voice with mounting fervor, prompting MIKE to do the same, although there’s a sense that he’s going along to avoid CHILDERS turning on him. CHILDERS stands up gradually, locking his eyes on MIKE.)

CHILDERS

Are you a believer, Mike?!

MIKE

Yes!

CHILDERS

Righteous!

MIKE

Yes!

CHILDERS

Committed to the cause!!

MIKE

Yes!

CHILDERS

Committed to purity!!!

MIKE

Yes!

CHILDERS

To the cleansing of our nation!!!!

MIKE

Yes!

CHILDERS

Are you a soldier, Mike?!!!!

MIKE

Yes!

CHILDERS

Are you fighting for Christ?!!!!

MIKE

Yes!

CHILDERS

   (Raising both arms like a preacher.)

Hallelujah!!!!!!

MIKE

   (Still seated, MIKE raises his arms uncomfortably.)

Hallelujah!

   (CHILDERS sits down and calms himself.)

CHILDERS

That’s it Mike! That’s it! Ah, yes, we are the chosen, Mike. Are we not?

MIKE

Of…of course!

CHILDERS

Yes, yes…

CHILDERS  (Cont.)

(He takes a long pull on his cigarette and blows out slowly.)

Now, Mike. Are you interested in rising through the ranks here?

MIKE

I’ve never really thought about it, but sure.

CHILDERS

Of course you would! A fine man such as yourself, as committed to the cause as you are. With promotions would come better pay. Let’s be honest, Mike. What you make now is, well, hardly generous, am I right?

MIKE

Well…

CHILDERS

You would like a raise, wouldn’t you?

MIKE

   (earnestly)

I really would, sir.

CHILDERS

Maybe even take over my job!

MIKE

Sir?

CHILDERS

   (Obviously and meanly toying with MIKE.)

Noooo, that would never happen.

MIKE

Oh.

CHILDERS

But, Mike, there is something you could do to almost guarantee a promotion with a hefty raise, maybe a bonus if you truly excel at it.

MIKE

What would that be, sir?

CHILDERS

I think it’s time to begin reminding the vermin that they’re just that. There’s chatter among the roaches that there might be hope for them, that maybe they’ll one day be free to join us in what is now our land. This is a horrendous development. Yes?

MIKE

   (Slightly betraying a lack of conviction.)

Yes.

CHILDERS

Intolerable. Yes?

MIKE

Yes.

CHILDERS

It must be eradicated root and stem, don’t you agree?

MIKE

Absolutely.

CHILDERS

So here’s what I want you to do. Should you see any signs of hope, and I mean any signs, I want you to use this to beat it out of them.

(CHILDERS pulls out a black, steel baton from his bag and offers it to MIKE with both hands, as if making an offering. MIKE stares at it without taking it.)

CHILDERS

Go on, take it.

(MIKE takes the baton with both hands, lowers it and stares at it.)

MIKE

But, sir, we already have—

CHILDERS

They’re wood. Mike. Old school. This, on the other hand, is a Smith and Wesson steel baton. Isn’t it beautiful?

MIKE

   (flatly)

Yes.

CHILDERS

Infinitely more painful than wood. Now, when you’re done with each roach, you’ll bring him or her to me for inspection. The more you bring, the greater your chances of promotion. And if you’re industrious, you may well get a Christmas bonus! What do you say to that, Mike?!

MIKE

That’s…very considerate of you, sir.

CHILDERS

I take care of my righteous soldiers, Mike!

MIKE

Thank you, sir.

CHILDERS

Maybe you can start with those two upstarts I’ve heard about, Juan Hernandez and Fabienne Baptiste. Do I have their names right?

MIKE

Yes, sir.

CHILDERS

Give them a good beating as you see fit. Think of it as breaking in your beautiful new baton. Understood?

MIKE

Understood, sir.

CHILDERS

Good. Oh, and, Mike, if you disappoint me…well, you wouldn’t want to lose your job, would you?

   (MIKE stares at CHILDERS.)

MIKE

No, sir.

CHILDERS

Of course you don’t.

(CHILDERS stands up abruptly and raises one arm, making a fist.)

For country and glory!

(MIKE stands up abruptly and raises his arm similarly.)

MIKE

For country and glory!

(CHILDERS leaves pompously; MIKE watches CHILDERS as he walks out.)

Lights down.

SCENE THREE

Lights up.

JUAN and FABIENNE are in their cells. FABIENNE is pacing slowly back and forth, her arms crossed. JUAN is lying face up on his mat.

JUAN

How long has it been?

   (pause)

Fabienne?

FABIENNE

What?

JUAN

How long has it been?

FABIENNE

What?

JUAN

How—

FABIENNE

What?

   (pause)

JUAN

It’s a simple question.

FABIENNE

What?

(long pause)

JUAN

Do you want to hear a song?

(pause)

I’m going to sing it whether you like it or not.

FABIENNE

Please don’t.

JUAN

When you’re down and troubled
And you need some lovin’ care
And nothin’, nothin’ is goin’ right
Close your eyes and think of me
And soon I will be there
To brighten up even your darkest night

You just call out my name
And you know, wherever I am
I’ll come runnin’
To see you again
Winter, spring, summer or fall
All you have to do is call
And I’ll be there
You’ve got a friend

(Long pause as FABIENNE stops pacing and looks incredulously at the wall.)

FABIENNE

What the fuck!!

   (JUAN sits up.)

JUAN

   (Toying with FABIENNE.)

What. You don’t like it?

FABIENNE

Why the fuck are you singing such a white-ass song?

JUAN

White?

FABIENNE

Yes, white! As in white America! As in the white people who put us here! As in that white asshole guard!

   (JUAN stands facing the wall.)

JUAN

So, wait, I’m a sell-out if I sing a James Taylor song, is that it?

FABIENNE

That’s it.

JUAN

I’m brown on the outside but white on the inside?

FABIENNE

Sure looks like it.

JUAN

I’m not representing?

FABIENNE

What do you think?

JUAN

Quieres que cante Bad Bunny, Daddy Yankee? Huh?

FABIENNE

I hate reggaeton.

JUAN

Yeah, hate. That’s all you know.

FABIENNE

It’s hate that put us here.

JUAN

And hate is going to get us out? How will hate change things? Tell me!

FABIENNE

How can you defend them? After what they’ve done to us?

JUAN

I’m not defending them!

FABIENNE

Then what do you call it?

JUAN

Not all of them are evil! Not all of them want us gone! Not all of them want us dead!

FABIENNE

Then where are they, our white friends? Or should we call them our saviors?

JUAN

Have you ever had white friends, Fabienne?

FABIENNE

Yes, I have, Juan.

JUAN

Can you share—

FABIENNE

No. Fuck memories.

JUAN

She was a friend of mine.

FABIENNE

I don’t want to hear it.

JUAN

Her name was Vivian Moore.

FABIENNE

I said—

JUAN

She was in my high school.

FABIENNE

Spare me the sweetheart memory, if that’s what it is.

JUAN

One day after school, it was in the spring as I remember it, she took me to a park that she liked a lot.

FABIENNE

(sarcastically)

Lovely.

JUAN

We found a bench and she broke out some chocolate chip cookies she had made. They were good. Really good. We made a habit of going there. Then one day she sang me the song. She had a sweet voice. Soothing. She had me memorize it and we sang it together when things got bad. We weren’t part of the cool kids group. Browns weren’t welcome and she was a brainy nerd, not the glamorous type required to be a member. And then one day at the park we kissed. It was awkward at first. We were scared people would stare. Not like what they were looking at. But after a while we didn’t care.

(pause)

FABIENNE

What’s the point of this precious memory?

   (FABIENNE stops pacing, facing away from the wall.)

JUAN

Should I hate it now?

Lights down.

SCENE FOUR

Lights up.

MIKE and DAREN are seated at a kitchen table in a rundown room. DAREN has a plate of pancakes, MIKE a cup of coffee.

MIKE

Well? Are they tasty?

DAREN

Sure. Thanks, dad.

MIKE

The box was just about empty. Two good enough for this morning?

DAREN

Two’s good.

MIKE

I’ll get another box Friday, payday. Hey, maybe we could go to the county fair this weekend? Go on some rides. Eat turkey legs and fried Snickers. Smell the cows. Maybe try a couple of games. If we’re lucky we’ll win a giant stuffed animal, maybe…huh…a giraffe! What do you think?

 DAREN

Sure.

MIKE

We should go Saturday. We can get discount tickets if we’re the first fifty people in. Besides, I think it’s going to rain Sunday.

   (DAREN pauses cutting.)

DAREN

Aren’t you going to eat something?

MIKE

Coffee’s fine. I can get a donut at work. Free food! Can’t beat that, right?

   (MIKE can see that something is bothering DAREN.)

Hey, how’s school? Don’t you have a test today? Math, right?

DAREN

Science.

MIKE

That’s right. Science. I knew that.

(MIKE smiles sheepishly, long pause as DAREN looks down at his plate, moving the food around but not eating, then he looks up.)

MIKE

Are you okay, Daren? Seems like—

DAREN

Dad, why do you have to work there?

   (Pause as MIKE looks surprised at the question.)

DAREN

Is it okay if I ask?

MIKE

Sure. Well…It’s a good job, son. Steady work…

DAREN

I wish we didn’t have to leave.

MIKE

We had to. You know that. I didn’t have a choice.

(pause)

Hey, I might get a raise soon, even a bonus! Maybe someday we can buy a house. Have a big backyard. Get a grill. A real nice one, maybe the one shaped like an egg. I’ll barbecue as many hot dogs and hamburgers as you can eat. Wouldn’t that be awesome?

(pause)

DAREN

I miss mom.

MIKE

Not a day goes by that I don’t miss her, too.

(Pause; MIKE tries to change the subject.)

Hey, I’m almost finished fixing the window—

DAREN

What’s a patriot?

MIKE

What? Why do you—

DAREN

At school, they say you’re a patriot. They say everyone who works there is a patriot.

MIKE

Well, Daren…you see…we do what we do because we love our country. That’s a patriot.

(Pause; MIKE again tries to change the topic.)

Once I’m finished with the window—

DAREN

Those people there. Don’t they love our country, too?

MIKE

(MIKE looks at DAREN for a couple of beats, then down at the table, fiddling with his coffee cup.)

It’s time to catch your bus, son.

Lights down.

SCENE FIVE

Lights fade up.

JUAN is sitting with his back against the wall. FABIENNE is lying on her back on the mat, arms folded. On stage left there’s a park bench. Lights fade up on it as JUAN leaves his cell.

JUAN

I’m bored.

   (FABIENNE looks at the wall incredulously.)

FABIENNE

I can’t believe you said that.

JUAN

How long has it been?

FABIENNE

I don’t know, Juan.

(pause)

JUAN

I have another memory. Want to hear it?

FABIENNE

Not really.

    (FABIENNE sits up.)

JUAN

C’mon, what else do you have to do?

FABIENNE

Let me check my calendar. Oh, sorry, I have a call with God.

JUAN

That can wait. You won’t go to hell.

FABIENNE

We are in hell. Or haven’t you noticed.

JUAN

C’mon, Fabienne.

FABIENNE

Fiiiine.

(The cells go dark. As JUAN delivers the next lines, he walks to the bench, on which is his lunch bag. He sits.)

JUAN

It was a spring day. I was sitting on a park bench near the lake having my lunch. It was lovely out. A perfect day, sunny with a cool breeze.

(From his lunch bag, JUAN pulls out a sandwich in a baggie, a napkin, and a bottle of water. He spreads the napkin on his lap, takes out the sandwich and takes a bite, then drinks some water. He gazes around, taking in the beautiful weather. Without JUAN noticing, VIVIAN enters and immediately stops so that she is as far away from JUAN as possible. She’s wearing black boots, baggy jeans, a top that’s too big for her; her hair is dyed in a colorful way. She slowly takes off her satchel, pulls out a camera, crouches, focuses her camera, and appears to be taking photos of JUAN. He’s about to take another bite when he looks at her suddenly.)

JUAN

 Did you just take a photo of me?

VIVIAN

I did.

(VIVIAN picks up her satchel and gradually approaches JUAN.)

JUAN

Why did you do that?

VIVIAN

That’s what I do.

JUAN

But you don’t know me. I didn’t give you permission.

VIVIAN

I don’t need it. I’m a street photographer.  

JUAN

A street photographer?

VIVIAN

Yes.

JUAN

What exactly is that?

VIVIAN

I roam the streets of this city taking photos.

JUAN

But…you’re…not on a street.

VIVIAN

Doesn’t matter. It’s what I do that matters.

JUAN

What’s that?

VIVIAN

I use my camera to capture people. They live forever in my photos.

JUAN

Capture. That’s an interesting concept. Kind of creepy, if you ask me, though.

VIVIAN

Some people call us creeps.

JUAN

Sorry. I didn’t mean it that way.

VIVIAN

It’s okay.

(VIVIAN stands over JUAN looking at him intently. JUAN meets her gaze. There’s a long, awkward pause. JUAN looks at his sandwich and slowly raises it to his mouth. He’s about to take a bite when he pauses and looks at her without moving his face. He freezes.)

VIVIAN

Can I—

JUAN

Yes, please sit.

(VIVIAN sits on the bench; awkward pause.)

VIVIAN

Nice sandwich.

(awkward pause)

JUAN

Thanks.

VIVIAN

What kind is it?

JUAN

It’s uh…

VIVIAN

Looks like peanut butter and jelly.

(pause)

JUAN

It is.

VIVIAN

Hmmm… What kind of jelly do you use?

JUAN

Jelly?

VIVIAN

Well, it’s a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, right?

(she giggles)

JUAN

Right. It’s grape.

VIVIAN

Concord?

JUAN

What?

VIVIAN

Concord jelly?

JUAN

Yes…it is.

VIVIAN

Can I have a bite?

JUAN

(perplexed)

A bite?

VIVIAN

Looks yummy.

JUAN

Look—

VIVIAN

It’s okay.

(VIVIAN looks around and up at the sky.)

VIVIAN

Such a nice day.

JUAN

Indeed.

VIVIAN

When I leave my room, I ask my camera to help me capture what’s real in everyday life, from the bizarre to the beautiful. Some days I can do that, other days I can’t. Today I captured beauty. The blooming daffodils, the yellow contrasting beautifully against the green grass. The fluffy white clouds living lazily in the immense blue sky. The rhythm of the breaking waves along the lake’s shore. Lovely, isn’t it?

JUAN

Yes, it is.

(JUAN looks at the sky as VIVIAN begins to gaze at JUAN.)

VIVIAN

Would you like to look at some of my photos?

(JUAN looks at her, then at her camera.)

JUAN

Sure. Show me some streets, street photographer.

(VIVIAN moves towards JUAN so that they’re touching. He appears to be a bit uncomfortable. She gives JUAN the camera.)

VIVIAN

(showing JUAN how to scroll)

Here, just do this.

(JUAN scrolls as VIVIAN draws her head close to his to look as well.)

JUAN

These aren’t streets. These…these are all pictures of me! Over the past week! Here!

VIVIAN

Your favorite park?

JUAN

Actually, it is. But—

VIVIAN

Mine as well.

(JUAN looks at her, trying to figure out what is going on.)

VIVIAN

Hey, I’ve got some cookies. Made them myself. In case I get hungry while I’m shooting. Want one? They’re chocolate chip.

(VIVIAN reaches into her backpack, pulls out a baggie with cookies, opens it, and offers the baggie to JUAN. He takes the baggie, and he’s slowly realizing she is VIVIAN. She sings.)

VIVIAN

You just call out my name, and you know, wherever I am, I’ll come runnin’, to see you again.

JUAN

(almost in a whisper)

Vivian.

VIVIAN

Hmhm.

JUAN

My god.

VIVIAN

I came here last week and saw you. I knew it was you. Your face, as kind and sweet as it was when we kissed. Here. For the very first time. Do you remember, Juan?

(FABIENNE gradually stands up, listening intensely.)

JUAN

Yes… Of course.

(VIVIAN’s face closes in.)

VIVIAN

It felt so good, didn’t it?

JUAN

Yes, it did.

VIVIAN

Nothing else mattered in the world. It was just you and me.

JUAN

You and me.

(pause)

VIVIAN

Would you like to kiss me?

JUAN

What?

VIVIAN

Would you like to kiss me? Like we used to?

(pause)

JUAN

Uh…

VIVIAN

Kiss me, Juan.

(She draws her lips close to his and he suddenly pulls back.)

JUAN

I…I have to go, Vivian.

(JUAN gives back the cookies, hurriedly packs his lunch and walks toward his cell, drops his bag and resumes his position in the cell. Lights come up in the cells as lights fade at the park. VIVIAN looks at JUAN as he leaves, then looks down at the baggie. She stays seated.)

FABIENNE

You fool! You stupid fool!

(JUAN stands up abruptly and faces the wall.)

JUAN

Don’t call me that, Fabienne!

FABIENNE

Do you know how precious that kiss could’ve been?

JUAN

How was I supposed to know, huh? How? It’s so easy for you to sit there and pass judgment on me! It was years since I had seen her! It was a chance encounter! That’s all it was! A freak moment in time! That’s all!

(pause)

FABIENNE

It’s gone. You can’t go back.

(Long pause as JUAN slowly resumes his position against the wall.)

JUAN

It was, in its own strange way, a beautiful moment.

FABIENNE

And you walked away from it.

JUAN

Yes. I walked away from it, Fabienne. I walked away. It was pure chance, but I’ll never forget it.

(MIKE charges into the walkway.)

MIKE

What have I told you?! A thousand times!

JUAN

So sorry, sir.

MIKE

Apologies won’t cut it. Not anymore!

FABIENNE

Boss?

JUAN

Fabienne, stop!

FABIENNE

Can I have some water?

JUAN

Stop!!

FABIENNE

The sun’s making it awfully hot in here, boss.

MIKE

That’s it!

(MIKE reaches into FABIENNE’s cell and pulls her out.)

FABIENNE

Don’t touch me!

JUAN

Please, sir!!

MIKE

Shut up.

FABIENNE

Where are you taking me?!

MIKE

You’ll see!

(MIKE drags her off stage.)

Lights down.

SCENE SIX

Lights up.

The facility room. FABIENNE is seated at the table. JUAN is in his cell but both cells are dark. MIKE walks in with a bottle of water.

MIKE

You said you wanted water.

(MIKE places the bottle on the table. FABIENNE eyes it and picks it up.)

FABIENNE

It’s not cold. I want cold water.

(FABIENNE places the bottle down and pushes it towards MIKE.)

MIKE

Cold?

FABIENNE

On ice, preferably.

(pause)

MIKE

Why do you keep mouthing off at me? Hmm?

(pause)

Answer me?

(pause)

God dam—

FABIENNE

Why not?

MIKE

Why not?!

FABIENNE

It breaks the monotony.

MIKE

You’re always such a smartass.

FABIENNE

Thanks for the compliment.

MIKE

Do you know what I can do to you?

FABIENNE

What, beat me?

MIKE

As a matter of fact, yes!

(MIKE grabs the baton that’s obscured on the empty chair pulled up to the table.)

MIKE

You see, this?

FABIENNE

I’ve seen those before. I’ve seen what they can do.

MIKE

Then you know how painful it can be.

(pause)

Do you know I can get a raise for beating you bloody?

FABIENNE

What do they pay you? Minimum wage?

MIKE

Seems like you’re begging me to break you into pieces!

FABIENNE

Go ahead! I’m going to die in this place anyway.

MIKE

Dammit, is that what you want?

FABIENNE

That’s what you want.

MIKE

That’s not what I want.

FABIENNE

Oh! Wait, wait, wait. I know what you really want. You want to rape me.

(FABIENNE gets on the table and splays her legs.)

MIKE

What?!

FABIENNE

Go ahead! That’s what you and your kind do. You rape my people, you rape my communities, you rape our culture. Strip us of everything that makes us human. To erase us. We’re scum after all. We pollute the purity of whiteness. We threaten the State, the Country. All hail the omnipotent Dictator! For country and glory!

MIKE

I’m not a rapist! That’s not who I am!

FABIENNE

Oh, yes you are. You just don’t want to admit it.

MIKE

You can’t make me into something I’m not.

FABIENNE

You’re pathetic, do you know that? You think that you have meaning, that you have a noble purpose, that you’re a patriot because you walk the halls of this place with your guns and batons, never missing a chance to remind us that we’re subhuman, not worthy of living among you. But you know what?

MIKE

Just stop!

FABIENNE

It’s the other way around. You’re not worthy of living with us. My roots are from nobility in Africa before they landed in Haiti as slaves. My parents came here to pursue what is gone for so many of us now, the American dream. But still, in my community we celebrate poets, artists, intellectuals, storytellers that never let us forget that we are worthy humans. So maybe you and your kind are the real scum.

MIKE

Stop! Stop running your mouth! Why can’t you do that?!

FABIENNE

Because with every chance I get I want to remind you that you’ll die in a prison of your own. You’ll die rotting of hate. You’re a murderer. And no matter how hard you try, you’ll never wash the blood off your hands for what you’re doing here.

MIKE

I’m just a guard!

FABIENNE

Is that what you say to yourself in the mirror when you go home at night? I see that ring on your finger. Is that what you tell your kids when you tuck them in at night. Is that what you tell your wife when you’re fucking her? Or is it when you beat her?

(MIKE lunges at FABIENNE slapping her with the back of his hand. She falls off the table. MIKE looks horrified at what he’s done.)

MIKE

I…I’m sorry, Fabienne. I—

FABIENNE

Don’t you EVER say my name!

MIKE

I really am—

FABIENNE

My name is mine. You can’t take that away from me!

(long pause)

MIKE

You need to get up and go back. Here, take this water.

(FABIENNE stands defiantly and slaps away the bottle. They stare at each other for a few beats. Then she turns and leaves. Mike follows her to her cell and walks off. FABIENNE lies down on her mat in a fetal position.)

JUAN

Are you okay, Fabienne?

(long pause)

What did he do to you?

(long pause)

Fabienne?

Lights down.

SCENE SEVEN

Lights up.

(MIKE enters the prison room with a bottle of water. He puts the bottle on the table and stares at it for several beats. He looks up with a blank stare. He pulls the chair out slowly, sits, and stares blankly at the wall. He unscrews the bottle top, takes a sip, and screws the top back on. He stares blankly at the bottle, then pulls out a wallet from his back pocket. He opens it slowly and pulls out two photos. He looks at each one, as if he were in the moment of the photo. He doesn’t smile. He puts the photos on the table and stares blankly at the wall. Suddenly he slaps the bottle off the table and furiously and repeatedly pounds the table without emitting a sound. He pants for a while. He puts the photos back in the wallet and puts the wallet back in his pants. He brushes his hair with his hands, straightens his tie, and stands. As he leaves the room, he stops, stares at the bottle, crouches and picks up the bottle, staying crouched. He ponders the bottle for a number of beats, stands, and walks out.) 

Lights down.

SCENE EIGHT

Lights up.

FABIENNE and JUAN are sitting on their mats with a tin plate of what hardly looks like food. JUAN is eating. FABIENNE stares at the plate, moving the substance around but not eating. They each have a tin cup of water.

FABIENNE

What is this crap?

JUAN

Poop.

FABIENNE

Probably rat crap.

JUAN

Just don’t look at it, like when you eat an oyster. You don’t gaze at it lovingly. You just swallow and get it over with.

FABIENNE

Oysters. I hate them. But I would give my right arm for one now.

JUAN

You should ask them for one. Seems like a fair trade. An oyster for a body part.

FABIENNE

Have you heard of griyo?

JUAN

Maybe.

FABIENNE

It’s Haiti’s national dish.

JUAN

Tell. We have tons of time.

FABIENNE

We ate it on Sundays, about mid-afternoon. It’s incredible. You want to use the best pork shoulder you can find. You marinate it in lemon juice and Haitian spices. Then you fry it to seal in the juices. When it’s ready, you serve it with red beans and rice, pickled cabbage, and peppers. Sometimes we would have fried plantain, too. The dish is a delicious celebration of our culture, even though it’s rooted in slavery.

(pause)

I miss that food. I miss my family. I miss my community. I miss spending weekends with friends, sharing special moments of our lives. I miss laughing. I miss crying out of love.

(pause)

I miss Emmanuel. He was a good man, a decent man, and kind. He was quite the kisser, too. Long kisses. Warm kisses. So sweet that I melted into him. We were engaged. We were happy. So hopeful of a beautiful life together. We planned to save and eventually open our own ice cream shop.

JUAN

You’ll see them again. You’ll kiss Emmanuel again.

FABIENNE

They separated us when they invaded our community. It was early evening in the spring. We were sitting around the table about to give thanks for our meal when they pounded on the door.

(Long pause as FABIENNE wraps her arms around her legs and drops her head.)

JUAN

Fabienne?

(pause)

You can tell me. If you want.

FABIENNE

They…they yelled, get out now! We heard people screaming. Emmanuel said, no, we won’t until you tell us why. They beat him brutally on the spot. They had bats, chains, batons. He died two days later.

(long pause)

JUAN

I’m so sorry, Fabienne.

(Pause, then with a tone that suggests FABIENNE is consciously shifting the focus to JUAN.)

FABIENNE

Enough about me. What about you, Juan? What’s your favorite food?

JUAN

Hands down, frijoles de olla, a heavenly bean stew made with onions and garlic. Mi mama made a big pot of it on the weekends. I helped her make the tortillas. Ate some right on the spot. Couldn’t resist.

FABIENNE

Hmmmm… Can I come over?

JUAN

If you promise to be nice.

FABIENNE

And you? Anyone special? Besides Vivian?

JUAN

Her name was Maria. I met her on a dating app. Her profile drew me in immediately. She was a dancer. I love to dance—a regular at the late-night salsa clubs. So I swiped right. Two months later we were in love. She valued me, all of me.

FABIENNE

Where is she now?

(pause)

JUAN

She’s dead. It was a Friday night. It was horribly cold outside. But we were staying warm in a bar, Julio’s, waiting for the salsa DJ. We were drinking dirty vodka martinis, celebrating Maria’s thirty-first birthday. Then all hell broke loose. They burst through the door. Dozens of them. They all wore black. Their faces covered. Called us terrible things. Rats, spics, roaches. They beat us, too. No mercy. We begged them to stop. They just laughed.

(long pause)

Maria died on the floor in a pool of her own blood. They threw me in a truck. I have no idea what happened to my family. I was told they invaded our neighborhoods.

(long pause)

FABIENNE

Do you know where this crap belongs?

JUAN

In the toilet? That would seem the logical place.

FABIENNE

Up their damn asses.

JUAN

That’s a gross thought.

FABIENNE

Let’s shove this crap back at them. Ready?

JUAN

What?

FABIENNE

You heard me.

JUAN

But we’ll get in trouble. He’ll beat you again.

FABIENNE

We’ve been in trouble since we got here. Are you with me?

JUAN

Okay, then. Let’s do it, then. Locked and loaded, capitán!

FABIENNE

On the count of three. One, two, three!

(They shove their plates into the walkway. MIKE enters.)

MIKE

What’s this?

JUAN

Shit. Uh…sorry, sir. We…we—

FABIENNE

The food is too rich for us, sir. Do you have any vegan options?

MIKE

You’re quite the comedian, but you both know this is a serious offense. And a serious reprimand is in order.

JUAN

Please, sir. It won’t happen again.

MIKE

Get up, Juan.

FABIENNE

Leave him alone! I made him do it!

MIKE

Doesn’t matter. Get up and follow me. Now! You piece of scum!

(JUAN gets up nervously and follows MIKE into the facility room. Lights go down on the cells.)

MIKE

Sit down.

(JUAN sits down nervously.)

JUAN

Please! Sir!

MIKE

Why did you do something stupid like that?

JUAN

We…I…

MIKE

Do you know what I can do to you for what you did?

JUAN

Yes.

MIKE

It can be painful.

JUAN

I know.

MIKE

Very painful.

JUAN

I know. I know.

MIKE

Then why risk it?

JUAN

We didn’t mean to.

MIKE

That doesn’t matter. Rules are rules. You broke the rules.

(pause)

Put your arms on the table.

JUAN

What?

MIKE

Your arms on the table!

(JUAN very slowly and nervously puts his arms on the table, breathing heavily. MIKE reaches down to the other chair that’s obscured like in Scene Six. JUAN shuts his eyes tightly, grimaces, and turns his face away from the table.)

JUAN

(screams at the top of his lungs)

NO! NO! NOOOOOOOO!

(MIKE pulls up two bags and tosses them on the table between JUAN’s arms. JUAN slowly opens his eyes and stares at the bags for a good number of beats, then looks up at MIKE.)

JUAN

(mystified)

What’s this?

MIKE

Open one.

(JUAN opens one and pulls out bread, sausage, and cheese. JUAN stares at the food in shock, then looks up at MIKE.)

JUAN

Have I died and gone to heaven?

MIKE

It’s not vegan but it’s better than the miscellaneous debris we give you. The other bag is for Fabienne. I’ll get them to you when it’s safe.

(pause)

JUAN

Why—

MIKE

It’s our leftovers. Would’ve wound up in the dumpster.

(pause)

JUAN

But why are you doing this?

MIKE

How’s Fabienne? She’s not eating much.

JUAN

She says there’s no point.

MIKE

She needs to eat. Tell her to eat. Eat what’s in these bags.

JUAN

Maybe she’s right, you know. We’re going to die here. Why eat and prolong the agony?

MIKE

I’ve never said you would die here.

JUAN

You don’t have to.

(pause)

It seems like so long ago, like a different century, when she told me time is a weapon.

MIKE

What?

JUAN

A weapon. To erase people like me and Fabienne. She said something like, we’ll disappear, as if we never existed.

(MIKE turns away from JUAN, crossing his arms.)

MIKE

Don’t say that.

JUAN

But it’s true.

(MIKE turns toward JUAN.)

MIKE

I’m giving you food, aren’t I?

JUAN

But you get to go home at night.

(pause)

You have a family, don’t you.

MIKE

I do.

JUAN

Kids?

MIKE

One.

JUAN

Boy? Girl?

MIKE

Boy.

JUAN

What’s his name, if you don’t mind me asking.

MIKE

Daren.

JUAN

Hmmm. I was hoping to have children one day. Lots of them…

(pause)

But that will never happen. Will it?

(long pause)

What’s your name?

MIKE

Mike.

JUAN

Mike, I just have one more question. Can I ask?

MIKE

Go on.

JUAN

Do you really want to be the one holding the weapon?

(pause)

MIKE

I need to get you back to your cell.

Lights down.

SCENE NINE

Lights up.

MIKE and DAREN are seated at the kitchen table. MIKE is stirring cookie dough in a bowl. He has a hand towel draped over his shoulder.

MIKE

I hope you appreciate how hard I’m working on this batter!

DAREN

Let me try!

MIKE

Go for it!

(MIKE passes the bowl to DAREN.)

DAREN

It’s hard!

MIKE

You said you had a craving for cookies! And this is my secret recipe! The key, young man, is to use room-temperature butter!

DAREN

Come on, dad. You got it from the bag!

MIKE

Nuh-uh!

DAREN

Why are we making so much?

MIKE

Who ever asks that question when they’re making cookies?!

DAREN

Are you gonna pig out on these when I go to bed?!

MIKE

Me? Never!

DAREN

Uhuh. Sure, dad.

(pause)

MIKE

Hey, remember mom’s Christmas cookies?

DAREN

Yeah!

MIKE

All those cookie cutters, Christmas trees, snowflakes, candy canes—

DAREN

Reindeer.

MIKE

Now, she had a secret recipe. Those butter cookies… So good, right?

DAREN

The best!

MIKE

And they came out perfectly.

DAREN

Not the blobs you make.

MIKE

That’s a low blow!

DAREN

Well, it’s true!

(MIKE looks at DAREN intently but with a look suggesting he’s not really there. DAREN notices, stops stirring, and meets MIKE’s gaze.)

DAREN

Dad?

(MIKE snaps out of it.)

MIKE

Those were good times, right?

DAREN

They were good times, dad. Really fun. But this is fun, too.

MIKE

Sure it is, Daren. Lots of fun… Hey, give me that bowl, you weakling!

DAREN

But I’m almost finished!

(MIKE takes the bowl.)

MIKE

Get the baking sheets and the cookie container.

DAREN

(Daren stands and salutes.)

Yes, sir!

(MIKE freezes a bit when he sees this, then stands abruptly and cleans his hands with the towel, looking at it with a look suggesting he’s thinking about something.)

MIKE

And get a big baggie, too.

DAREN

Why a baggie?

MIKE

There are some folks at work who like cookies.

Lights down.

SCENE TEN

Lights fade up.

FABIENNE is lying on her side on the mat, facing the wall. JUAN is in the process of moving his bucket into the far corner, then sitting on his mat.

FABIENNE

(she coughs)

You there?

JUAN

I’m here, Fabienne.

FABIENNE

How long has it been?

JUAN

A long time.

FABIENNE

But how long?

JUAN

A really long time. Ok? Really long, Fabienne.

(Long pause; FABIENNE coughs.)

JUAN

That cough isn’t getting any better.

(pause)

Mike’s told you to eat. He gives us decent food and still you don’t eat… You can at least eat the cookies.

FABIENNE

I’m not hungry.

JUAN

You’re not hungry because you’re sick. And you’re sick because you’re not eating.

(pause)

You know he’s worried about you.

FABIENNE

He holds the weapon.

JUAN

He’s changed.

FABIENNE

But we’re still here.

(She coughs)

JUAN

Eat, Fabienne. You need your strength.

FABIENNE

What’s the point, Juan?

JUAN

You know, if you die, you’ll be giving them what they want! But they wouldn’t be just killing you, they’d be one step closer to killing your friends, your family, your community. One step closer to killing all of us. To wiping us out, as if we never existed. Is that what you want?

FABIENNE

I’m not a hero, Juan. This isn’t a movie where we save the day. There’s no happy ending.

JUAN

I refuse to believe that.

FABIENNE

You’re in denial. You always have been.

Lights down.

SCENE ELEVEN

Lights up.

Months later in the facility room. JUAN and FABIENNE are lying on their mats in darkened cells. MIKE is seated, his hands cupped together, head down. CHILDERS enters, MIKE abruptly stands up nervously.

CHILDERS

Hello, Mike.

MIKE

Good afternoon, sir.

CHILDERS

Have a seat.

(MIKE sits down slowly. CHILDERS sits, pulls out his pack of cigarettes and his lighter, lights a cigarette, takes a deep pull and watches the smoke as he exhales.)

CHILDERS

It’s been a while since you’ve had the pleasure of my company. About six months, I believe. How’ve you been?

MIKE

Well, sir—

CHILDERS

Enough with the chitchat. I’m here for a serious reason. So I need you to be serious. Are you a serious person? Mike?

MIKE

I believe—

CHILDERS

In Jesus Christ?

MIKE

Sir, I—

CHILDERS

Never mind. Been there, done that with you. Mike, here’s the serious reason. We’re facing a big problem. In fact, it’s a looming crisis. We’re running out of room in our facilities for the undesirable blacks, browns, yellows, and reds—the loyalists we can keep, I suppose. The Muslims must go. And the Jews for that matter. We’re now a Christian nation after all. And, of course, we mustn’t forget the communists, queers, cripples and mongrels. We’ve tried to ship out the whole bunch but the process is too slow or they’ve shut their borders, some for the very same reasons we’re grappling with. What do you think we should do?

MIKE

Well…sir…we should…should…

CHILDERS

Should, should, should. Do you have a stutter? Mike?

MIKE

No, sir.

CHILDERS

Well, then?

MIKE

We should build more facilities. Find space, I suppose.

CHILDERS

No, no, no. We need the space for us. To live happily. Raise families. Propagate. No, Mike, we have to thin out our facilities. Do you know what that means?

MIKE

Sir?

CHILDERS

Are you deaf, Mr. Johnson? Do you know what that means?

(pause)

MIKE

I…I do. Sir.

(MIKE uses the cuff of his shirt to wipe his forehead.)

CHILDERS

Good. We’ll start with your block. And first in line will be those two troublemakers, Hernandez and Baptiste. I’ve heard there was an occasion when they threw their food out of their cells. And you did nothing about it.

MIKE

I reprimanded them, sir.

CHILDERS

Reprimanded. Hmmm. I’ve also heard rumors that you’ve passed them extra food, that you’ve been talking to them. Any truth to these rumors?

MIKE

No, sir.

CHILDERS

It would be treasonous to become attached to the scum. Of course, you know this, correct?

MIKE

Yes, sir.

CHILDERS

Good. To prove to me that you’re a patriot truly devoted to our nation’s greatness, tomorrow morning you’ll bring those two to the basement. Make sure you have your gun.

MIKE

(in a shocked tone)

What?

CHILDERS

Ultimately, they’ll beg for it. Are you with me? Mike?

(pause)

Are you with me?

MIKE

(barely audible)

Yes.

CHILDERS

I didn’t hear that.

MIKE

Yes. Sir.

CHILDERS

(Raises his right arm with a fist)

Excellent! For country and glory!

MIKE

(Raises his arm similarly.)

For country and glory!

(MIKE stands while CHILDERS leaves. MIKE slowly lowers his arm and sits. He puts his face in his hands, elbows on the table and runs his hands through his hair, then pulls out his cellphone and calls DAREN.)

MIKE

(in a worried tone)

Hey. Just checking in on you. How was practice?…Really?…You’ll be a scoring machine….Soon. I just have to take care of a few things. How about pizza tonight?…Pepperoni it is….Sure, I’m okay… Don’t worry, son, I’m fine… See you soon. And Daren?…I love you more than anything in the world. You know that, right?…Good.

Lights down.

SCENE TWELVE

(FABIENNE is lying on her side, facing the wall. She’s covered by a blanket. Her knees are pulled up as if she’s cold. JUAN is sitting with his back to the wall, his arms wrapped around his legs.)

Lights fade up.

(FABIENNE has a coughing fit. Her voice is feeble.)

FABIENNE

Juan?

JUAN

I’m here.

FABIENNE

I’m cold.

JUAN

He gave you a blanket.

FABIENNE

I’m still cold.

JUAN

I’m sorry.

FABIENNE

I have a memory. Do you want to hear it?

JUAN

Sure.

(JUAN turns to sit facing the wall.)

FABIENNE

(She speaks as if in a dream.)

I must’ve been about eight when my parents began taking me to an ocean beach about an eight-hour drive from our place. But it wasn’t really a swimming beach. People went there in the summers to catch crabs. We pitched a tent not far from the water. It wasn’t very big. But just enough space to fit the three of us without feeling like sardines in a can.

(She has a coughing fit followed by silence.)

JUAN

Fabienne?

FABIENNE

Every morning at dawn my mom and dad and I would wade into the warm water and set up two poles about thirty feet apart with a string connecting them. About every six feet we tied turkey necks to the string and let it fall to the bottom. Every half hour or so we checked the string. I was so excited when we lifted the string and saw these big crabs hanging onto the necks. We usually caught about a couple dozen. At sunset we feasted on crab, crusty bread, potato salad, and lemonade. My dad told us jokes which we’d heard a hundred times. But we still laughed…

JUAN

That’s a beautiful memory, Fabienne. You’ll make more. Okay?

(long pause)

FABIENNE

That day in the park. It must’ve been so beautiful. The flowers, the sky, the clouds, the water.

JUAN

It was.

(FABIENNE has a coughing fit.)

JUAN

Maybe we shouldn’t talk. Give your throat a rest.

(FABIENNE starts crying.)

JUAN

Fabienne?

(pause)

Fabienne. Talk to me.

(FABIENNE stops crying; long pause.)

FABIENNE

Will you sing that song for me again?

JUAN

Maybe later.

FABIENNE

Please, Juan.

(pause)

JUAN

When you’re down and troubled
And you need some lovin’ care
And nothin’, nothin’ is goin’ right
Close your eyes and think of me
And soon I will be there
To brighten up even your darkest night

JUAN (Cont.)

You just call out my name…

(pause)

Fabienne?

(pause)

FABIENNE

You should’ve kissed her.

JUAN

I know. I should have.

(FABIENNE has a coughing fit. Very long pause as JUAN listens for any sounds she might make.)

JUAN

Fabienne?

FABIENNE

Yes?

JUAN

Will you dance with me?

(FABIENNE sits up.)

FABIENNE

Dance? Okay, but how?

(coughs)

JUAN

We’ll do a slow dance. Okay?

FABIENNE

Sure.

(FABIENNE stands up facing the wall.)

JUAN

Ready?

FABIENNE

Yes.

JUAN

Okay, hold my hips.

(FABIENNE holds her hands out as if holding JUAN’s hips.)

JUAN

Feel them?

FABIENNE

(coughs)

Yes.

JUAN

Now I’ll put my arms on your shoulders. Hear the music? Soft and slow?

FABIENNE

I do.

JUAN

Let’s dance.

(They sway slowly from side to side.)

FABIENNE

Can you come closer?

JUAN

Here I come.

(They get closer to the wall and dance for a number of beats; FABIENNE coughs.)

JUAN

How does it feel?

FABIENNE

Beautiful.

JUAN

Yes it is, Fabienne.

FABIENNE

Juan?

JUAN

Yes?

FABIENNE

Will you kiss me?

(They both stop dancing and drop their arms.)

JUAN

What?

FABIENNE

(Her voice becomes progressively weaker, perhaps a bit delirious.)

Will you kiss me?

JUAN

How do I find you? Your face? Your lips?

FABIENNE

Let’s tap on the wall until the taps meet.

(they do that)

JUAN

I think we’re face to face.

FABIENNE

Kiss me, Juan.

(They kiss the wall for a number of beats.)

FABIENNE

Thank you. They’ll never erase all of us, will they?

JUAN

Never. We’ll fight back. You and me. When we leave this place.

(pause)

FABIENNE

I’m leaving now, Juan.

JUAN

What?

FABIENNE

To find my parents. To go to the beach.

JUAN

Wait! We’ll find them together!

(She falls to the floor and dies.)

JUAN

Fabienne?

(pause)

Fabienne! Say something. Please. Fabienne!

(MIKE rushes into the walkway.)

MIKE

Let’s go. The two of you!

JUAN

What?

MIKE

Now!

JUAN

What’s happening?

MIKE

Shut up. We don’t have much time.

JUAN

Fabienne’s dead.

MIKE

What?

JUAN

She’s gone.

(MIKE checks FABIENNE for a pulse; puts his ear to her mouth to hear for breath.)

MIKE

Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! We have to go.

JUAN

Where are we going?

MIKE

You’re leaving this place.

JUAN

What?

MIKE

Don’t ask questions. Just listen. You see those stairs? Take them down one floor. You’ll see a long corridor to your right. Take it all the way to the kitchen. It’s the shift change and with any luck you won’t be noticed. There’s a door behind the freezers that’ll take you to a field. Thirty yards out is the tree line. I cut a hole in the fence. Once you’re through, you run. As fast and as hard as you can. It’s dark. Make it to the woods and you’ll have a chance.

JUAN

Why are you doing this?

MIKE

(MIKE pauses and looks JUAN in the eye.)

Because you’re my fellow patriot. Here, take this.

(MIKE hands JUAN an envelope.)

JUAN

What’s this?

MIKE

It’s for my son. He means everything—

JUAN

I know.

MIKE

I’ve given you the directions to my apartment and a photo of him from my wallet. Look for a black box on the top rack of my closet. You’ll find money. Find Daren and leave. Have him text me. Promise me you’ll do that. I have to trust you, Juan. Promise me!

JUAN

I promise. Why don’t you come with me? They’ll figure out it’s you. You know what they’ll do to you when they find out.

MIKE

I have some unfinished business. Now go!

(JUAN runs off stage; MIKE looks back at the cells.)

MIKE

I’m sorry, Fabienne. I’m so sorry.

(He pulls out his gun and stares at it.)

MIKE

I’m coming for you, you sadistic bastard. This has to end, and you’re first in line. For country and glory.

(MIKE turns towards backstage and walks off.)

Lights down.

SCENE THIRTEEN

Lights up.

(CHILDERS runs across the stage, looking back as if being chased. He’s not wearing a jacket. His tie is loosened, and his shirt is pulled out. There’s a long piece of toilet paper stuck to the back of his pants.)

CHILDERS

I was just following orders!

Lights down.

SCENE FOURTEEN

Lights fade up.

One year later. DAREN is sleeping in an alleyway next to a trash can. He’s covered with a dirty blanket, a bag of clothes serving as a pillow. He appears to be asleep. VIVIAN enters and squats next to him. She takes off her satchel, pulls out a camera, and takes a shot of DAREN. He sits up, startled.

DAREN

What! What are… Did you, did you just—

VIVIAN

Yes. I took a photo of you.

DAREN

Why?

VIVIAN

Because I’m a street photographer.

DAREN

A what?

VIVIAN

A street photographer. I roam the streets of this city and capture people with my camera. You make a pretty good subject to capture, Daren.

(VIVIAN sits and crosses her legs.)

DAREN

Wait. How do you know my name?

VIVIAN

There’s someone very dear to me, his name is Juan. He knew your father. Juan asked me to find you.

DAREN

How did you find me?

VIVIAN

(She holds up the photo MIKE gave JUAN.)

I’ll admit it wasn’t easy. It’s taken me a year. But this is my city. I know it well, including the alleys. My name is Vivian, by the way.

(pause)

Daren, why did you run away? Juan went to your place to find you. To keep you safe. You weren’t there.

(long pause)

Daren?

DAREN

My dad called that night. He sounded worried. He said he was okay. But I knew something was wrong. Later that night the sirens at the facility went off. I was scared. I panicked. Something told me my dad wasn’t coming home. I ran.

(pause)

Did you find him?

(VIVIAN looks at DAREN with great sympathy and places her hand on his knee.)

VIVIAN

No. I’m so sorry, Daren.

(DAREN begins to cry.)

VIVIAN

I have something for you. It’s from your dad. He gave it to Juan. Juan found me at a park near the lake. He knew it was our favorite place. We had a long talk about what happened.

(VIVIAN pulls out the letter and hands it to DAREN.)

VIVIAN

This is for you. Have a look. I’m going to go for a walk and I’ll—

DAREN

Don’t go!

VIVIAN

Don’t you want to read it?

DAREN

Read it to me. Please.

VIVIAN

Okay.

(VIVIAN begins reading the letter. If it’s possible in the space, there’s a voice-over and MIKE reads the letter, taking over from VIVIAN. Otherwise, perhaps MIKE is sitting upstage writing the letter as VIVIAN reads. If this doesn’t work, then VIVIAN reads the entire letter.)

VIVIAN (Cont.)

My dear son, one morning at breakfast you asked me what the word patriot means. I said a patriot is someone who acts out of love for his country. I believe it as a truth, about who I am, and about who you will be. I was

MIKE (V.O.)

devastated when I lost my job at the factory. And then we lost your mom because I didn’t have the money to make her well. I felt helpless, humiliated. And I was angry. So angry that one night I left you with neighbors and went to a meeting in an abandoned warehouse in town. Hundreds were there, just like me. A man spoke passionately to us. He said we were the forgotten ones, but there was a way to fight back. He said it was up to us to take our country back from those who had taken everything from us. He whipped us into a frenzy and raised his arm. With a clenched fist, he shouted, fellow patriots, for country and glory! That night I signed up for a job they said was necessary to accomplish that objective. That was my ticket to get us out of a dying town, to give us, to give you, a chance of a better life. It was only at the facility that I realized what they meant by being a patriot. At first, I believed it was the right thing to do. I tried to be the patriot they wanted me to be. But with every passing day, I began to doubt myself. I grew ashamed about what I was doing. I felt especially bad when I came home to you. Those people in the facility had been children just like you. They had parents who wanted the same things I want for you. I did things I wish I could take back. But I can’t. And that will haunt me forever. Tonight, a man told me to do something horrible, to help him commit mass murder. I knew then that I had been fooled, maybe willingly, into thinking that patriotism meant erasing fellow human beings from the face of this earth just because they’re different. I could’ve said to myself that I was just doing what I was told to do. But that’s cowardness. That’s unforgivable. I won’t be part of it. He told me to begin the process by eliminating two longtime detainees I had come to know and like a lot, Juan Hernandez and Fabienne Baptiste. I’ve decided to get them out tonight. I’ll give this letter to them in case I can’t get back to you tonight. If you’re reading it now, go with them. I trust them to keep you safe until I find you. To answer your question whether people like Juan and Fabienne are patriots, they, like all the others in this facility, are the finest patriots this country has ever seen. We need to fight for them, with them. A true patriot is a guardian of what is good, what is right, what is just. I love you more than anything in the world, Daren. Become the patriot I wish I could’ve been years ago, the patriot I should’ve been when you asked me that question.

VIVIAN

(finishing reading the letter)

The money is all that I could save for us. Keep it in a safe place. Someday, I hope you can buy that house we dreamed about, with a big backyard and a grill. You can make all the burgers and hotdogs you can eat.

(VIVIAN folds the letter.)

VIVIAN

That’s a beautiful letter.

DAREN

I miss my dad.

VIVIAN

Of course you do.

(VIVIAN pulls out a stack of bills and holds it up.)

VIVIAN

Hey, look what I have. I counted five thousand dollars. Not too bad, Daren.

(pause)

DAREN

Where are Juan and Fabienne now?

VIVIAN

Juan said Fabienne got sick. Your dad gave her food, but she died anyway.

DAREN

And Juan?

VIVIAN

He wanted to find you, to keep his promise to your dad, but he was needed to lead good people in the fight against evil people, people like that man who wanted your dad to do horrible things. I’m doing the same thing here. With this.

(VIVIAN pretends to take a shot of someone far off.)

I keep track of evil people, Daren!

(pause)

DAREN

What now?

(VIVIAN stands up and starts putting her camera back in the satchel.)

VIVIAN

You look hungry. How about I take you to my place. Get you some clean clothes. I don’t have a grill, but I can cook you a big plate of spaghetti and meatballs. How does that sound?

DAREN

Really good.

VIVIAN

(She helps DAREN get up.)

Okay. Let’s go.

DAREN

I think he gave her cookies.

VIVIAN

What?

DAREN

We liked baking cookies. He took lots of them to work. I think he gave some to Fabienne.

VIVIAN

Seems like your father was trying, Daren. Trying to be a good man.

DAREN

I’m sorry she died.

VIVIAN

(She leans down to look him in the face.)

Daren, Juan told me he would fight for Fabienne, for her memories. So will I. We won’t stop until all those facilities your dad worked at are shut down.

DAREN

I want to help.

VIVIAN

Hey, did your dad ever mention a dish called griyo?

DAREN

I don’t think so.

VIVIAN

It’s a Haitian dish. Fabienne told your dad about it. So you start by using the best pork shoulder you can find…

Fade to black.

THE END

THE ENCOUNTER

by

Enrique R. Carrasco

  ©2025  Enrique R. Carrasco

CAST OF CHARACTERS

MICHAEL, in his thirties

RUTH, a homeless woman in her fifties

Place

Chicago

Time

Present Day

Setting: A bench or two chairs without arm rests are center stage. The lighting should create a          space within which the interactions take place. Ideally, the rest of the stage should be as dark as possible. MICHAEL is dressed in business casual with a nice winter coat. He carries a business bag with court papers. If possible, to create a visual contrast between the two characters, MICHAEL should be clean shaven. RUTH is dressed in dirty pants, shirt, coat, and hat. She wears worn, dirty footwear. She carries two rather large bags with her belongings. Her hands and face are dirty.

Lights up.

(MICHAEL enters. While on the phone, he looks around, finds the seat, and sits.)

MICHAEL

Look, what’s most…

CONDUCTOR (V.O.)

Grand Avenue.

MICHAEL

that might be the case but…listen, we win if the court…let me finish, if the court buys our argument that Billington is dispositive…stop worrying about it so much…look, I’ll call you when I get home in about an hour.

(MICHAEL lets out a long sigh and runs his hands through his hair. He starts scrolling suggesting he’s looking at social media. RUTH enters, shuffling with her bags, crosses MICHAEL and sits down, looking down. She doesn’t look at MICHAEL until indicated below. MICHAEL glances at her and tries to distance himself as much as possible from her on his seat. He resumes scrolling, but one can see he is bothered that RUTH has sat down next to him.)

RUTH

Cold out.

(long pause)

Windy, too.

(pause)

The worst day yet. The cold. The wind.

(pause)

(MICHAEL stops looking at the cellphone.)

RUTH

Nice here.

(pause)

Warm.

(MICHAEL glances at her, puts away his cellphone, preparing to get up. RUTH looks at him for the first time.)

RUTH

Where are you going?

(Without making eye contact, MICHAEL continues to get up.)

MICHAEL

I…uh…I  have…I have to…uh…stretch my legs.

RUTH

Are you scared of me?

MICHAEL

(looking at her)

What?

RUTH

Do I scare you?

(pause)

MICHAEL

Why…why are you asking me this?

(RUTH looks forward.)

RUTH

You really don’t have to stretch your legs.

(pause)

Do you?

(MICHAEL sits back down but looks unsettled. He looks forward; long pause.)

RUTH

It was a beautiful lake.

(MICHAEL looks at her, surprised at the sudden change in topic.)

RUTH

Clear. Calm.

(pause)

It shimmered in the morning. So peaceful.

(MICHAEL resumes looking at his cellphone.)

RUTH

You don’t need that.

MICHAEL

Sorry?

RUTH

It won’t help you.

(She reaches for the phone. MICHAEL pulls away.)

MICHAEL

Don’t do that! Don’t touch me. Leave me alone.

RUTH

You’re afraid of me, aren’t you.

(pause)

MICHAEL

Look, ma’am. I don’t…I really don’t—

RUTH

(looking forward)

Petunias…geraniums.

(pause)

Took us weeks to plant them. All over town.

(pause)

Weeks.

(pause)

But they liked them. Everybody liked them. We liked them. Flowers. They make you happy. The colors. Shapes. The scents.

(pause)

What makes you happy?

MICHAEL

Getting off this train.

RUTH

She was the pretty one. The favorite. They would never say so. But I knew. I tried so hard. To be like her. To be pretty. But I knew that would never happen.

(pause)

Were you the favorite?

MICHAEL

You’re…what you’re saying…what you’re asking me…you shouldn’t be.

RUTH

Why?

MICHAEL

Why?

RUTH

Yes, why?

MICHAEL

Because I don’t know you. Because you don’t know me.

RUTH

Are you sure?

MICHAEL

What kind of question is that?

RUTH

Are you sure that you don’t know me? That we don’t know each other?

MICHAEL

Of course, I’m sure.

RUTH

But you pass me just about every day. And sometimes I pass you. We pass each other. You and me. And now we’re here. Together. Finally.

(MICHAEL looks away.)

MICHAEL

This shouldn’t be like this.

RUTH

Like what?

MICHAEL

We shouldn’t be talking.

RUTH

What’s your name?

(MICHAEL looks at her.)

RUTH

Your name.

(pause)

MICHAEL

You don’t need to know my name.

RUTH

I do.

MICHAEL

Why?

RUTH

Do you want to know my name?

MICHAEL

You don’t belong here.

RUTH

Ruth. My name is Ruth.

(pause)

I need to know your name.

MICHAEL

Why?

RUTH

(She looks forward.)

In the winters the lake would freeze over. Ice nearly a foot deep. We used snowmobiles to get about here and there. Dad would put up the ice shanty near the house. We caught rainbow trout. Lots of them. She was pretty. But she couldn’t fish, not like me. What’s your name?

MICHAEL

I’m not going to tell you.

RUTH

But that’s not how it works.

(MICHAEL looks at her incredulously.)

MICHAEL

What the hell are you talking about?

RUTH

(She looks at him.)

Please. Your name.

MICHAEL

Michael. Satisfied?

RUTH

(She looks forward.)

Dad told me to watch her while he went back to the house. He needed more bait. Said he would be right back.

MICHAEL

Let’s end this…little…chat. Whatever you want to call it. 

RUTH

(Looking at him.)

Why?

MICHAEL

Look around. Do you see what they all have in common? They’re looking at their phones. They all want to be left alone! I want to be left alone!

(MICHAEL holds up his phone, turns away from her, and purposefully handles it to indicate he wants to be left alone but it’s clear he’s just staring at it.)

RUTH

(looking forward)

She might have been prettier, but she wasn’t smart. I was the smart one. Are you happy, Michael?

MICHAEL

Please leave me alone.

RUTH

Where’s dad, I asked. I’m bored, she said. Where is he? I want to see Sara, she said. They gave her an awesome kitchen set for Christmas. Are you happy, Michael?

MICHAEL

I don’t want to talk to you. I have nothing to say.

RUTH

(Looking at him).

You have a lot to say, Michael. All of us here have a lot to say. About so many things. Are you happy, Michael?

MICHAEL

(Turning to her.)

Okay. Ruth. You really want to know?

RUTH

Yes.

MICHAEL

Okay. Here’s the condensed version. I’m about to make partner at the biggest law firm in Chicago. My wife is a doctor. We’re closing on a five-bedroom house next month, in which

MICHAEL (Cont.)

we’ll raise lovely, smart children. We have plans. We have futures. We don’t look back. We look forward. But you can’t understand that. That’s obvious. You can’t understand me. You never will. And that, Ruth, is why I don’t want to talk to you!

RUTH

But you haven’t answered my question.

MICHAEL

Yes, I have!

RUTH

Are you happy, Michael?

MICHAEL (angrily)

Yes! I’m the happiest man in the universe! Okay? The happiest!

(Long pause; MICHAEL’s body language shows that he regrets being harsh.)

RUTH

(looking forward)

I got one! It feels big! I said. I don’t care, she said. I’m going to see Sara. Wait for dad, I said. She wouldn’t listen. I said wait. Wait for dad! She didn’t. She ran. I ran after her.

(MICHAEL’s face softens.)

RUTH

There was a soft spot in the ice. I ran as hard as I could. As fast as I could. I couldn’t save her.

(long pause)

MICHAEL

I’m…I’m sorry….

(pause)

What…if I may ask…what…what was her name?

RUTH

Julia.

MICHAEL

That’s a nice name.

(MICHAEL attempts to look at his phone to lose himself into scrolling social media. But he’s obviously distracted, repeatedly raising the phone to look at it and then lowering it. Ultimately, he sighs and lowers the phone to his lap and continues to look down.)

MICHAEL

Where was it?

RUTH

What?

MICHAEL

The lake?

RUTH

Charlevoix.

MICHAEL

Charlevoix?

RUTH

Michigan. Up north.

MICHAEL

Hmm.

(He looks at her.)

RUTH

You know, Michael, we’re invisible. To most of the world. But we see. We see so many things. And I’ve seen you. When we’ve passed each other. But you’ve never looked me in the eyes. Even though you’ve passed inches away from me. No one does. It’s not because you want to avoid giving me a dollar. It’s not because I’m hard to look at.

MICHAEL

Then what is it?

RUTH

You’re afraid. Afraid that if you look at me your eyes won’t be able to hide the hurt you’ve buried inside you. The hurt that threatens to bring you pain, anger, sadness, regret.

MICHAEL

She was pretty. And smart, too. Smarter than me.

(pause)

RUTH

Who?

MICHAEL

My sister.

RUTH

What was her name?

MICHAEL

Rebecca. We were both athletes. Tennis. Started when we were kids. I might’ve been older, but I couldn’t hold a candle to her on the court.

(pause)

Look. I…uh…I have to make a call. I’m sorry but I really have to / I got into University of Chicago Law. She wanted to follow.

(pause)

But one night, she went out to celebrate high school graduation. Of course they had to drink.

(pause)

She got drunk. Her best friend drove the car straight into a tree. She was the only survivor. But she broke her spine. One day a tennis star bound for U of C on an athletic scholarship. The next, a paraplegic.

(MICHAEL starts to open his bag.)

I…uh…have to check some notes before… I was angry. So angry. How could you be so stupid?! You idiot! Your life is over! All because you and your friends were stupid drunk!

RUTH

Why would her life be over?

MICHAEL (angrily)

Because she became a damn cripple!

(pause)

Sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.

(pause)

Her life was far from over. Didn’t take long before she became a star and was recruited to play wheelchair tennis at Alabama. Pre-med.

RUTH

What was it like? To see your sister play?

MICHAEL

I didn’t. She asked me to, but I always came up with an excuse. I was too busy becoming a kick-ass lawyer.

(pause)

Then one afternoon my parents called. She was in intensive care. A sepsis infection. She was in organ failure.

(pause)

You’re right, it’s really cold outside. And the wind—

RUTH

Michael.

MICHAEL

I had someone cover for me at work and rushed to see her. When I walked into her room I was devastated. My sis. My dear sis. Emaciated. Her skin so pale… She was helpless.

(pause)

I held her hand. Read to her. She loved poetry. I told her to hang in there. You’re so strong. You’ll be out of here soon. We’ll take a trip. Just the two of us. You pick the place. Rome? Berlin? How about Buenos Aires?

      (pause)

Just a few more stops before I get off. I have to rush home to make this call.

RUTH  

      (Becoming progressively assertive.)

You’re not done.

MICHAEL

If we don’t win this case.

RUTH

You have to finish.

MICHAEL

I can’t.

RUTH

Yes, you can. You can’t keep running away.

MICHAEL

It hurts.

RUTH

Hurt is real, isn’t it. We don’t see it, we don’t feel it until we do, when there’s no way to escape it. Nowhere to hide from it.

MICHAEL

The day she died, she had a lucid moment. She said I was always better than you on the court. She reached out for my hand. Gave me a faint smile. And then she left me. Before I could tell her how sorry I was for failing her as a brother. 

RUTH

Rebecca forgave you, Mr. Livingston.

MICHAEL

What?? How—

RUTH

I had to be certain it was you.

MICHAEL

Who…who are you??

RUTH

I worked the midnight shift. When she couldn’t sleep, I sat with her.

MICHAEL

Wait. You’re Ruth? The nurse? Ruth?

RUTH

I was younger. Cleaner.

MICHAEL

This…this…is…insane!

RUTH

She asked me to find you. She knew you would never forgive yourself.

MICHAEL

How did you find me?

RUTH

Your emails from work. Telling her you were too busy to watch her play. Always working on a case. Couldn’t find the time.

MICHAEL

And now it’s too late.

(He looks at her, taking in her appearance.)

MICHAEL

Why are you…I mean…why do you…look…

RUTH

Homeless?

MICHAEL

Yes.

RUTH

Michael, I fell into the hole in the ice.

MICHAEL

What?

RUTH

She jumped in to save me. I made it back to the surface. I tried to find her. But all I saw was darkness. I hung on. I lived. She didn’t.

MICHAEL

My god.

RUTH

The hurt stalked me. It never stopped. I tried to run from it, but it kept following me, always one step behind me. But when I was with your sister, I found refuge when we talked. I found peace, if only for those moments.

MICHAEL

What did you talk about?

RUTH

She couldn’t talk much. But when she did, she had funny things to say about you. I told her about Charlevoix. I promised I would take her there. Michael, I could feel the love she had for you.

MICHAEL

Thank you for being there for her.

RUTH

After she died, the hurt came back. I knew I could no longer outrun it. I was exhausted. So I hid. With oxycodone. I stole just a little when I started. Then I stole a lot.

MICHAEL

I’m so sorry, Ruth.

RUTH

I lost everything. Including my faith.

MICHAEL

But it wasn’t your fault. You tried your best.

CONDUCTOR (V.O)

Fullerton. This is Fullerton.

(RUTH gets up and shuffles in front of MICHAEL to exit the train.)

MICHAEL

(Not wanting her to leave; concerned about her.)

Where are you going?

(RUTH stops and looks at MICHAEL.)

RUTH

Back to Charlevoix.

MICHAEL

That’s wonderful.

RUTH

Are you Catholic, Michael?

MICHAEL

I was. But I lost my faith after Rebecca left me. Like you.

RUTH

Say a Hail Mary, for the two of us.

MICHAEL

I will.

RUTH

I’ll plant petunias for them. Our sisters can help me.

MICHAEL

They would like that. The colors, the scents.

RUTH

Come visit me.

MICHAEL

How will I find you?

RUTH

Come in the winter. I’ll be in an ice shanty.

(Exit RUTH.)

CONDUCTOR (V.O.)

Next stop, Belmont.

Lights down.

THE END

THE ENCOUNTERS

by

Enrique R. Carrasco

    ©2025  Enrique R. Carrasco

CAST OF CHARACTERS

MICHAEL, in his thirties

RUTH, a homeless woman in her fifties

SAM, in his thirties

HENRY, in his fifties

CYNTHIA, in her thirties

REBECCA, in her twenties

PETE, in his twenties

PASSANGER ONE, can be dual role with MICHAEL

PASSANGER TWO, can be dual role with RUTH

ATTENDANT, can be dual role with CYNTHIA

ACTOR: INTRODUCTION, can be dual role with HENRY

CONDUCTOR, Voice Over, any actor not in Scene Two

INTRODUCTION

Setting: A stool center stage. The ACTOR is sitting on the stool scrolling through his/her phone.

Lights up.

(The ACTOR scrolls for a bit then looks up at the audience.)

Hey. I’m just mindlessly scrolling through funny animal videos on TikTok. You do the same, right? Come on. Admit it. Maybe not TikTok, but Insta? Facebook? So many of us are sucked into countless hours of scrolling. Why? Sure, entertainment. Nothing wrong with that. But there’s something else, isn’t there. This (the ACTOR holds up the phone) is also a hiding place. It’s a place that protects us from others. It’s also a place where we hide from ourselves, afraid of confronting things that lurk in our subconscious, things that if unearthed would force us to reckon with being truly human, as painful as that might be. But as you’re about to witness, there are seemingly chance encounters that disrupt the hiding places we’re in, with consequences that…well, you’ll see.

Lights down.

SCENE ONE

Place

Annapolis

Time

Present Day

Setting: There’s a bench center stage and something resembling a ticket booth.

Lights up.   

(MICHAEL enters wearing summer clothing. He carries a satchel. He goes to the ticket booth.)

MICHAEL

Hi. I’m here for the evening schooner ride. Just want to confirm my reservation.

ATTENDANT

Your name?

MICHAEL

Cranson. Michael.

ATTENDANT

You’re all set.

MICHAEL

Great. I believe I ordered a drink ticket.

ATTENDANT

You did indeed. Let me get it for you.

MICHAEL

Quite the evening tonight.

ATTENDANT

It’s Friday. It’s summer. It’s Annapolis. Everybody is out.

MICHAEL

Having fun.

ATTENDANT

The only way to live, my friend.

(The ATTENDANT hands him the ticket.)

MICHAEL

You got that right. Thanks.

(MICHAEL sits on the bench, pulls out a book from his satchel, and begins to read. PETE, carrying a lunch tote, enters, stays standing and stares at MICHAEL, who looks up at PETE briefly and goes back to his book. PETE continues to stare.)

PETE

Hi.

(MICHAEL looks up.)

MICHAEL

Hello.

(MICHAEL goes back to his book.)

PETE

Nice afternoon, don’t you think?

(MICHAEL doesn’t look up.)

MICHAEL

It is.

(pause)

PETE

Won’t stay that way. Supposed to storm later.

(pause)

Can I sit?

(MICHAEL looks up and gestures with his head at the bench.)

MICHAEL

Sure.

(PETE sits, looks out at the water, then at MICHAEL.)

PETE

What’s that?

MICHAEL

I’m sorry?

PETE

(Points at the book.)

That.

MICHAEL

It’s…it’s a book.

(pause)

PETE

What’s it about?

MICHAEL

Poems. It’s a book of poems. Poetry.

(They look at each other, then MICHAEL returns to the book.)

PETE

You know that’s weird.

MICHAEL

What is?

PETE

You reading a book. On this bench. In public. It’s kinda like…if you were sitting here in your underwear….with a hole in it.

(MICHAEL closes the book and looks at PETE, trying to appear polite.)

MICHAEL

What would make me look unweird?

PETE

Your phone. Look at your phone. Like everybody else.

MICHAEL

I don’t have one with me. I left it at home.

PETE

That’s weird.

MICHAEL

Noted.

PETE

What’s your name?

MICHAEL

My name?

PETE

Yeah, your name.

MICHAEL

Why do you need to know—

(MICHAEL catches himself and tries to stay polite.)

Michael. My name is Michael.

PETE

Mine’s Peter but everybody calls me Pete. Nice to meet you.

(PETE extends his hand to shake. MICHAEL looks at it, then at PETE, and shakes his hand.)

PETE

You here for the Annapolis Schooner Sail?

MICHAEL

Yes.

PETE

Big boat, isn’t she.

MICHAEL

It is indeed.

(pause)

She?

PETE

The boat’s a girl.

MICHAEL

What’s her name?

PETE

Rebecca.

MICHAEL

Really.

PETE

You look surprised. Why’s that?

MICHAEL (pensively)

I knew someone by that name.

PETE

Did ya.

MICHAEL

Yes. I did.

PETE

It’s a nice name.

MICHAEL

It is. It’s a very nice name.

PETE

Girlfriend?

MICHAEL

No.

(PETE and MICHAEL look at the water.)

PETE

Need a lot of money to buy one of those, huh.

MICHAEL

A rich lawyer could easily swing it.

PETE

Is that what you are?

MICHAEL

I used to be.

PETE

Used to be. What do you mean?

MICHAEL

I’m a law prof now. Swore an oath of poverty. Relatively speaking.

PETE

Professor! What do you teach?

MICHAEL

Contracts, among other things.

PETE

That sounds hard.

MICHAEL

It can be. What about you, Pete? Do you work here?

PETE

Yeah.

MICHAEL

What do you do?

PETE

I help dock the boat. I catch the ropes they throw me. Tie them to the dock.

MICHAEL (kindly)

Well, that’s important.

PETE

Not really.

(pause)

But I’m goin’ to community college!

MICHAEL

Oh, yeah? That’s great, Pete!

PETE

 Getting my Commercial Driver’s License. Do some long-haul driving. See the world.

MICHAEL

The world?

PETE

Well…maybe Montana. Hawaii.

MICHAEL

Pete, you can’t drive to Hawaii.

PETE

Oh.

(PETE opens his tote, takes his sandwich out, and takes a bite.)

Want a bite?

MICHAEL

No thanks. I just ate.

(pause)

It’s quite pungent. Your sandwich.

PETE

Pungent?

MICHAEL

A strong smell.

PETE

Must be the onions.

MICHAEL

Onions?

PETE

Yeah. Bologna…with mustard and onions.

MICHAEL

What?

PETE

Sometimes I get tired of eating it.

MICHAEL

Then why do you eat it?

PETE

It reminds me of my big brother. It’s his favorite sandwich.

(pause)

He used to come by now and then to play cards with me and mom. He liked poker but he lost all the time. He always brought me a Snickers, my favorite.

MICHAEL

Sounds like he’s a good brother. Why do you say he used to, if I may ask.

PETE

He’s gone.

MICHAEL

I’m so sorry.

PETE

No, he’s not dead. I mean he disappeared.

MICHAEL

He disappeared?

PETE

Yeah. Sort of.

MICHAEL

Why?

PETE

One day mom and I came back from the grocery store and found a letter from him. He moved to the Northwest. Realized the life he was living in Chicago—

MICHAEL

Chicago?

PETE

Yeah.

MICHAEL

You lived in Chicago?

PETE

We did. Mom and me. But we got tired of the winters. So we moved here.

MICHAEL

Sorry I interrupted. Go ahead. About the letter.

PETE

Sam said that one day he was on his way to work, and something happened, something that changed his life, that made him realize he wasn’t really happy. It was too hard for him to say goodbye. He knew I would be really upset. Mom, too.

(pause)

So he left without telling us, without seeing us.

MICHAEL

I’m sorry, Pete. That must’ve been hard.

PETE

He promised he would come back to visit. He hasn’t yet. But I’m sure he’ll keep his word.

(pause)

He said something kinda crazy in the letter.

MICHAEL

What was that?

PETE

He said avoid people with canes.

MICHAEL

What do you think he meant by that?

PETE

I have no idea.

(With sudden movements, MICHEAL starts putting away his book.)

MICHAEL

Well, I better get over to the boarding line. Have a nice evening.

(MICHAEL starts walking away.)

PETE

Hey, why did you become a professor?

(MICHAEL turns to look at PETE.)

MICHAEL

For the same reason I don’t carry a phone.

PETE

What does that mean?

MICHAEL

Take care of yourself, Pete.

PETE

You, too! And you know what, Michael? I might become a lawyer and someday buy a big sailboat! Sail anywhere and everywhere! You think I can do that?

MICHAEL

Of course, you can.

(pause)

And Pete.

PETE

Yeah?

MICHAEL

Maybe it’s time you to try a new sandwich.

Lights down.

SCENE TWO

Place

Chicago

Time

Years Earlier

Setting: A bench or two chairs without arm rests are center stage. The lighting should create a          space within which the interactions take place. Ideally, the rest of the stage should be as dark as possible. MICHAEL is dressed in business casual with a nice winter coat. He carries a business bag with court papers. If possible, to create a visual contrast between the two characters, MICHAEL should be clean shaven. RUTH is dressed in dirty pants, shirt, coat, and hat. She wears worn, dirty footwear. She carries two rather large bags with her belongings. Her hands and face are dirty. Note on pauses: The use of pauses and their lengths are intended to be an integral part of the dialogue. They suggest an awkwardness of the encounter between two strangers and in particular between a well-to-do individual and a homeless person. Hence, the lengths of the pauses should be generous with this purpose in mind.

Lights up.

(MICHAEL enters. While on the phone, he looks around, finds the seat, and sits.)

MICHAEL

Look, what’s most…

CONDUCTOR (V.O.)

Grand Avenue.

MICHAEL

that might be the case but…listen, we win if the court…let me finish…just hold on, if the court buys our argument that Billington is dispositive…stop worrying about it so much…look, I’ll call you when I get home in about an hour.

(MICHAEL lets out a long sigh and runs his hands through his hair. He starts scrolling suggesting he’s looking at social media. RUTH enters, shuffling with her bags, crosses MICHAEL and sits down, looking down. She doesn’t look at MICHAEL until indicated below. MICHAEL glances at her and tries to distance himself as much as possible from her on his seat. He resumes scrolling, but one can see he is bothered that RUTH has sat down next to him. All of this should last at least a minute, including a long pause after she sits.)

RUTH

Cold out.

(long pause)

Windy, too.

(pause)

The worst day yet. The cold. The wind.

(pause)

The worst day.

(MICHAEL stops looking at the cellphone.)

RUTH

Nice here.

(pause)

Warm.

(pause)

Yes. Warm.

(pause)

I like warm.

(MICHAEL looks up annoyed then down at his cellphone.)

RUTH

It’s safe.

(pause)

I’m safe.

(pause)

Here.

(pause)

I won’t get hurt.

(pause)

No one will hurt me.

(pause)

Not here.

(MICHAEL glances at her, puts away his cellphone, preparing to get up. RUTH looks at him for the first time.)

RUTH

Where are you going?

(Without making eye contact, MICHAEL continues to get up.)

MICHAEL

I…uh…I  have…I have to…uh…stretch my legs.

RUTH

Are you scared of me?

(pause)

MICHAEL

(looking at her)

What?

RUTH

Do I scare you?

(pause)

MICHAEL

No.

(MICHAEL looks away.)

RUTH

Look at me.

(MICHAEL slowly looks at her.)

RUTH

Are you? Scared?

(pause)

MICHAEL

Why…why are you asking me this?

(RUTH looks forward.)

RUTH

You really don’t have to stretch your legs.

(pause)

Do you?

(MICHAEL sits back down but looks unsettled. He looks forward; long pause.)

RUTH

It was a beautiful lake.

(MICHAEL looks at her, surprised at the sudden change in topic.)

RUTH

Clear. Calm.

(pause)

It shimmered in the morning. So peaceful.

(MICHAEL resumes looking at his cellphone; long pause.)

RUTH

You don’t need that.

MICHAEL

Sorry?

RUTH

It won’t help you.

(She reaches for the phone. MICHAEL pulls away.)

MICHAEL

Don’t do that! Don’t touch me. Leave me alone.

RUTH

You’re afraid of me, aren’t you.

(pause)

MICHAEL

Look, ma’am. I don’t…I really don’t—

RUTH

(looking forward)

Petunias…geraniums.

(pause)

Took us weeks to plant them. All over town.

(pause)

Weeks.

(pause)

But they liked them. Everybody liked them. We liked them. Flowers. They make you happy. The colors. Shapes. The scents.

(pause)

What makes you happy?

MICHAEL

Getting off this train.

RUTH

She was the pretty one. The favorite. They would never say so. But I knew. I tried so hard. To be like her. To be pretty. But I knew that would never happen.

(pause)

Were you the favorite?

MICHAEL

You’re…what you’re saying…what you’re asking me…you shouldn’t be.

RUTH

Why?

MICHAEL

Why?

RUTH

Yes, why?

MICHAEL

Because I don’t know you. Because you don’t know me.

RUTH

Are you sure?

MICHAEL

What kind of question is that?

RUTH

Are you sure that you don’t know me? That we don’t know each other?

MICHAEL

Of course, I’m sure.

RUTH

But you pass me just about every day. And sometimes I pass you. We pass each other. You and me. And now we’re here. Together. Finally.

(MICHAEL looks away.)

MICHAEL

This shouldn’t be like this.

RUTH

Like what?

MICHAEL

We shouldn’t be talking.

RUTH

What’s your name?

(MICHAEL looks at her.)

RUTH

Your name.

(pause)

MICHAEL

You don’t need to know my name.

RUTH

I do.

MICHAEL

Why?

RUTH

Do you want to know my name?

MICHAEL

You don’t belong here.

RUTH

Ruth. My name is Ruth.

(pause)

I need to know your name.

MICHAEL

Why?

RUTH

(She looks forward.)

In the winters the lake would freeze over. Ice nearly a foot deep. We used snowmobiles to get about here and there. Dad would put up the ice shanty near the house. We caught rainbow trout. Lots of them. She was pretty. But she couldn’t fish, not like me. What’s your name?

MICHAEL

I’m not going to tell you.

RUTH

But that’s not how it works.

(MICHAEL looks at her incredulously.)

MICHAEL

What the hell are you talking about?

RUTH

(She looks at him.)

Please. Your name.

MICHAEL

Michael. Satisfied?

RUTH

(She looks forward.)

Dad told me to watch her while he went back to the house. He needed more bait. Said he would be right back.

MICHAEL

Let’s end this…little…chat. Whatever you want to call it. 

RUTH

(Looking at him.)

Why?

MICHAEL

(Pointing here and there.)

Look around. Ruth. See that woman with the grey coat? Maybe she’s worked all day cleaning offices. The man standing over there in the blue parka. He might be a grocery clerk. The three over there, crammed next to each other. Who knows. Maybe one’s an accountant, the other two a musician and a mortician. Now, Ruth. Do you see what they all have in common? They all have phones. They’re all looking at their phones, tapping on them, scrolling. And do you know what else they have in common? They all want to be left alone!

(MICHAEL holds up his phone, turns away from her, and purposefully handles it to indicate he wants to be left alone but it’s clear he’s just staring at it.)

RUTH

(looking forward)

She might have been prettier, but she wasn’t smart. I was the smart one. Are you happy, Michael?

MICHAEL

Please leave me alone.

RUTH

Where’s dad, I asked. I’m bored, she said. Where is he? I want to see Sara, she said. They gave her an awesome kitchen set for Christmas. Are you happy, Michael?

MICHAEL

I don’t want to talk to you. I have nothing to say.

RUTH

(Looking at him).

You have a lot to say, Michael. All of us here have a lot to say. About so many things. Are you happy, Michael?

MICHAEL

(Turning to her.)

Okay. Ruth. You really want to know?

RUTH

Yes.

MICHAEL

Okay. Here’s the condensed version. I’m about to make partner at the biggest law firm in Chicago. My wife—before you ask, her name is Cynthia— is a doctor. We’re closing on a five-bedroom house next month, in which we’ll raise lovely, smart children. We have plans. We have futures. We don’t look back. We look forward. But you can’t understand that. That’s obvious. You can’t understand me. You never will. And that, Ruth, is why I don’t want to talk to you! That’s why I have my phone!

RUTH

But you haven’t answered my question.

MICHAEL

Yes, I have!

RUTH

Are you happy, Michael?

MICHAEL (angrily)

Yes! I’m the happiest man in the universe! Okay? The happiest!

(Long pause; MICHAEL’s body language shows that he regrets being harsh.)

RUTH

(looking forward)

I got one! It feels big! I said. I don’t care, she said. I’m going to see Sara. Wait for dad, I said. She wouldn’t listen. I said wait. Wait for dad! She didn’t. She ran. I ran after her.

(MICHAEL’s face softens.)

RUTH

There was a soft spot in the ice.

(pause)

I ran as hard as I could. As fast as I could.

(pause)

I couldn’t save her.

(long pause)

MICHAEL

I’m…I’m sorry….

MICHAEL (Cont.)

(pause)

What…if I may ask…what…what was her name?

RUTH

Julia.

(pause)

MICHAEL

That’s a nice name.

(MICHAEL attempts to look at his phone to lose himself into scrolling social media. But he’s obviously distracted, repeatedly raising the phone to look at it and then lowering it. Ultimately, he sighs and lowers the phone to his lap and continues to look down.)

MICHAEL

Where was it?

RUTH

What?

MICHAEL

The lake?

RUTH

Charlevoix.

MICHAEL

Charlevoix?

RUTH

Michigan. Up north.

(long pause)

MICHAEL

Hmm.

(He looks at her.)

RUTH

You know, Michael, we’re invisible. To most of the world. But we see. We see so many things. And I’ve seen you. So many times. When we’ve passed each other. But you’ve never looked me in the eyes. Even though you’ve passed inches away from me. No one does. It’s not because you want to avoid giving me a dollar. It’s not because I’m hard to look at.

MICHAEL

Then what is it?

RUTH

You’re afraid. Afraid that if you look at me your eyes won’t be able to hide the hurt you’ve buried inside you. The hurt that threatens to bring you pain, anger, sadness, regret.

MICHAEL

She was pretty. And smart, too. Smarter than me.

(pause)

RUTH

Who?

MICHAEL

My sister.

RUTH

She’s gone, isn’t she.

MICHAEL

Yes.

RUTH

What was her name?

MICHAEL

Rebecca. We were both athletes. Tennis. Started when we were kids. I might’ve been older, but I couldn’t hold a candle to her on the court.

(pause)

Look. I…uh…I have to make a call. I have an important case that—

RUTH

Case?

MICHAEL

I have a trial—

RUTH

I see.

MICHAEL

I’m sorry but I really have to / I got into University of Chicago Law. She wanted to follow.

(pause)

But one night, she went out to celebrate high school graduation. Of course they had to drink.

(pause)

MICHAEL (Cont.)

She got drunk. Her best friend drove the car straight into a tree. She was the only survivor. But she broke her spine. One day a tennis star bound for U of C on an athletic scholarship. The next, a paraplegic.

(MICHAEL starts to open his bag.)

I…uh…have to check some notes before… I was angry. So angry. How could you be so stupid?! You idiot! Your life is over! All because you and your friends were stupid drunk!

RUTH

Why would her life be over?

MICHAEL (angrily)

Because she became a damn cripple!

(pause)

Sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.

RUTH

You’re hurting, Michael.

MICHAEL

Her life was far from over. Didn’t take long before she became a star and was recruited to play wheelchair tennis at Alabama. Pre-med.

RUTH

Wheelchair—

MICHAEL

Same game only you play in a sports chair designed for tennis.

RUTH

What was it like? To see your sister play?

MICHAEL

I didn’t. She asked me to, but I always came up with an excuse. I was too busy becoming a kick-ass lawyer.

(pause)

Then one afternoon, when I had just returned from court, my parents called. She was in intensive care. A sepsis infection. She was in organ failure.

(pause)

You’re right, it’s really cold outside. And the wind—

RUTH

Michael.

MICHAEL

I had someone cover for me at work and rushed to see her. When I walked into her room I was devastated. My sis. My dear sis. Emaciated. Her skin so pale…shockingly pale. She was helpless.

(pause)

I never left the room. I held her hand. Stroked her hair. Read to her. She loved poetry. I told her to hang in there. You’re so strong. You’ll be out of here soon. We’ll take a trip. Just the two of us. You pick the place. Rome? Berlin? How about Buenos Aires?

(pause)

Just a few more stops before I get off. I have to rush home to make this call.

RUTH

You’re not done.

MICHAEL

If we don’t win this case.

RUTH

You have to finish.

MICHAEL

I can’t.

RUTH

Yes, you can. You can’t keep running away.

MICHAEL

It hurts.

RUTH

Hurt is real, isn’t it. We don’t see it, we don’t feel it until we do, when there’s no way to escape it. Nowhere to hide from it.

MICHAEL

The night before she died, she had a lucid moment. She said I was always better than you on the court. She reached out for my hand. She looked at me. I knew then that she had always loved me. Despite failing her as a brother. 

(pause)

I thought I could save her. As if I had some sort of superpower. As if I could command her body to expel the sepsis. That’s how crazy I was. How desperate I was. Don’t leave me, sis.

(pause)

 But she did. I couldn’t save her.

(very long pause)

MICHAEL

Ruth.

RUTH

Yes?

MICHAEL

It wasn’t your fault.

(pause)

RUTH

Rebecca loved you. She forgave you.

(pause)

MICHAEL

You tried your best.

RUTH

Michael, I fell into the hole in the ice.

MICHAEL

What?

RUTH

She jumped in to save me. I made it back to the surface. I tried to find her. But all I saw was darkness. I hung on. I lived. She didn’t.

MICHAEL

My god.

CONDUCTOR (V.O)

Fullerton. This is Fullerton.

(RUTH gets up and shuffles in front of MICHAEL to exit the train.)

MICHAEL

(Not wanting her to leave; concerned about her.)

Where are you going?

(RUTH stops and looks at MICHAEL.)

RUTH

Thank you, Michael.

(She resumes her exit but then turns to look at him.)

That.

(She points at the cellphone; MICHAEL looks down at it.)

You don’t need to hide behind it. Not anymore.

(Exit RUTH. MICHAEL looks in her direction.)

CONDUCTOR (V.O.)

Next stop, Belmont.

Lights down.

SCENE THREE

Place

Chicago

Time

Same year as Scene Two

Setting: In the middle of the stage there’s a bench or four chairs without armrests that will act as bus seats. All four characters sit very close to each other, as they would when crammed together on seats at the front of a typical bus. The lighting should focus on them, with the rest of the stage as dark as possible. The effect should be of a small space in the bus, a space within which the characters live with no regard for any other living space. PASSENGER ONE and PASSENGER TWO sit on either side of SAM and HENRY. Throughout the play they are engrossed with their cellphones, constantly scrolling through what appears to be various social media sites. They never speak or look away from their screens. It’s as if they exist in their own hermeneutically sealed spaces. There’s a chair off to one side facing the four chairs. This is where CYNTHIA will sit.

Lights up.

(HENRY, PASSENGER ONE and PASSENGER TWO are seated. HENRY doesn’t have a cellphone. He stares straight ahead. He has his forearms draped over a cane handle that stands in front of him. SAM, carrying a business bag, enters and spots the empty seat.)

SAM

Excuse me.

(SAM crosses in front of PASSENGER ONE and HENRY. PASSANGER ONE and HENRY ignoreSAM. HENRY continues to look straight ahead. SAM looks at PASSENGER TWO and HENRY.)

SAM (Cont.)

May I?

(PASSENGER TWO and HENRY ignore SAM.)

SAM

Okay. I’ll just…

(SAM sits and puts his bag on his lap. He opens the bag, pulls out his cellphone and cradles it with both hands. He’s just about set to become absorbed with his phone when HENRY, still looking straight ahead, takes his cane, sets it on his lap, and slides the cane over so that the bottom part of the cane moves over SAM’s bag. SAM stares at the part of the cane on his lap, then at HENRY, who still looks straight ahead.)

SAM

Uh…sorry…

(pause)

Sir?

(pause)

Excuse me.

(HENRY slowly turns his head at SAM.)

HENRY

What.

SAM

Your…you know. Your…cane.

 (pause)

HENRY

What of it.

SAM

It’s…well…

HENRY

Well, what?

SAM

Look.

(SAM points at the part of the cane on his lap. HENRY looks at the cane, then at SAM.)

SAM

I’m sure you didn’t realize it. We’re squeezed in here like sardines.

(pause)

Not exactly first class. Ha!

(HENRY stares at SAM.)

SAM

So…so if you wouldn’t mind. If you could just…you know…move it. Off my lap.

(pause)

HENRY

You can move.

SAM

What?

HENRY

Move. You can move.

(SAM looks around.)

SAM

There’s no…the bus… is, well, full.

(HENRY looks straight ahead.)

HENRY

I know that.

(pause)

You can stand.

SAM

Stand?

HENRY

Stand.

(pause)

SAM

But this seat was empty.

HENRY

You own it?

SAM

What?

HENRY

Do you own this seat?

SAM

What kind of question is that?

HENRY

A simple one. You either own it or you don’t.

SAM

Of course, I don’t own—

(HENRY looks down at his cane.)

HENRY

What do you think of it?

SAM

Think of what?

 (HENRY looks at SAM, then down at his cane and taps it.)

HENRY

This.

   (pause)

SAM

Your cane?

HENRY

Yes.

SAM

It’s…it’s useful? I suppose?

HENRY

Picked it up at a flee market. Two bucks. Man said it’s walnut. Made in Moldova. Said he got it at an estate sale. Tried to sell me a watch. Told him I don’t wear a watch. Never owned a watch.

(HENRY looks at SAM’s watch.)

I see you got a watch.

(SAM looks at the watch.)

HENRY

Where did you get it?

SAM

The watch?

HENRY

Yes.

SAM

That’s none of your business.

HENRY

It is my business.

SAM

How’s that? How is it your business?

HENRY

You’re sitting next to me.

SAM

(becoming exasperated)

Because there’re no other seats!

HENRY

Do you own this seat?

SAM

I’m not playing this game.

HENRY

It’s not a game.

(CYNTHIA enters and takes her seat. She takes a book out of her satchel and tries to read as SAM and HENRY continue their exchanges. She looks up occasionally, becoming increasingly concerned.)

SAM

Okay. Fine. Your cane is really cool. It’s awesome that it’s from Morocco.

HENRY

Moldova.

SAM

Wherever the hell it’s from. It’s great. Now, all I want to do is look at this!

(SAM holds his cellphone up and taps on it.)

SAM

Now, can you kindly remove your cane from my lap.

(SAM touches the cane to move it.)

HENRY

Don’t do that!

SAM

What?

HENRY

My cane! Don’t touch it.

SAM

Then—

HENRY

You touch the cane, you touch me.

SAM

That’s ridiculous!

HENRY

Why?

SAM

Because…because it’s an inanimate object.

HENRY

What does that mean?

SAM

It means…it’s a thing. A piece of wood. It’s not alive. Not human.

(HENRY bends down and touches SAM’s shoes.)

SAM

Hey, don’t do that.

HENRY

Why not?

SAM

They’re my shoes for Christ’s sake!

HENRY

But your shoes. They’re…inanimate. That’s the word you used, right? Inanimate.

SAM

So?

HENRY

You walk with your shoes?

SAM

Obviously.

HENRY

I walk with my cane.

SAM

Fine. You made your point. I won’t touch your cane.

(SAM awkwardly tries to hold his cellphone to start looking at it. HENRY uses the tip of his cane to dislodge the cellphone. SAM fumbles with it.)

SAM

Hey! Are you nuts? That’s assault and battery, man! Back off! Get your…precious cane out of my space!

HENRY

Where you headed?

SAM

Where am I headed?

HENRY

That’s right. Where are you headed?

SAM

Why are you asking me all these questions? Where I’m headed is none of your business.

HENRY

Actually, it is.

SAM

How? How could it be your business?

HENRY

Because you’re sitting on my seat.

SAM

How could this be your seat?

HENRY

Do you own that seat?

SAM

No. No, I don’t own this seat. But neither do you.

HENRY

How do you know?

SAM

How? What? How do I know?

HENRY

Yes, how do you know?

SAM

Because it’s a freaking public bus!

(pause)

HENRY

Where you headed?

SAM

It’s. None. Of. Your. Business. Just like it’s none of your business where everybody else on this bus is going. Just like it’s none of my business where you’re going. 

HENRY

Do you want to know where I’m going?

SAM

No. I don’t want to know.

HENRY

You’re free to ask.

SAM

I’m free alright. I have the freedom, the right, under the law, under divine right, to be free from you!

(pause)

HENRY

Where you headed?

SAM

Ahhh! To work. Okay? You see this bag?

(SAM points to the bag.)

It’s my work bag. Do you want to know what’s in my bag? I’ll tell you. A yellow pad, three pens, a travel pack of tissues, hand sanitizer, and a lunch tote with a sandwich, a bologna

SAM (Cont.)

sandwich with mustard and onions. And, yeah, on the healthy side, apple slices. Is that enough information for you?

HENRY

Mouthwash?

SAM

What?

HENRY

Mouthwash. Do you have mouthwash? In your bag?

SAM

No, I don’t have mouthwash!

HENRY

Your breath will stink.

(SAM stares at HENRY with a mix of puzzlement and disbelief.)

SAM

(His voice slowly rising.)

You know. That’s why I want to look at my phone. It’s my refuge, my shelter. It brings me peace. It protects me. From you. From everybody on this bus. From all the chaos that waits for me when I step off this thing. From all my weaknesses, my mistakes, my failures, my faults. From all the shit that has led me to this seat. Today. On this bus. Sitting next to you, a fucking schizo with a walnut cane from fucking Moldova!

HENRY

(He speaks matter-of-factly.)

But you don’t have mouthwash. Your breath will stink. Your teeth will rot. They’ll fill with puss. They’ll pull your teeth. All of them. To save you from madness. But that won’t work. So they’ll inject you with malaria. Induce a coma. But that won’t work, either. Then they’ll run electricity through you. You’ll convulse so violently that you’ll break your spine. Then they’ll lobotomize you. Then you’ll die. But you won’t go to heaven. Because your breath will still stink. Hell won’t take you, either. You’ll spend eternity in purgatory, joining all the other lost souls with stinking breaths.

SAM

YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE!!!

(While both are sitting, they struggle with the cane. HENRY frees it from SAM’s grasp. SAM’s bag and cellphone drop to the floor. SAM falls hard to the floor, moaning. HENRY stands and furiously smashes SAM’s cellphone with the cane. He drops the cane and walks off stage. CYNTHIA rushes to SAM.)

CYNTHIA

Sir, I’m going to help you up. We’ll take it nice and slow.

(She helps him get up and sit.)

CYNTHIA

You took a pretty nasty fall. How do you feel?

SAM

Awful.

CYNTHIA

Where does it hurt?

SAM

My head.

CYNTHIA

I’m a doctor. Let me look at your eyes. Can you follow my finger?

(CYNTHIA tracks its movement.)

Good. What happened?

SAM

He didn’t like my sandwich.

CYNTHIA

Your sandwich?

SAM

Bologna, mustard, and onions.

CYNTHIA

That’s…that’s…

SAM

Gross. I know.

CYNTHIA

I didn’t say that.

SAM

That’s who I am. I stink. My life’s been a trail of miscellaneous debris, no better than a slice of rotting bologna.

CYNTHIA

I’m sure it hasn’t been.

SAM

It has. I’m a big mustard stain.

CYNTHIA

Maybe we should get you to an emergency room. There’s a hospital just a few more stops away. I work there. You can talk to someone. Check your head again.

SAM

Why couldn’t I be like you?

CYNTHIA

What do you mean?

SAM

A doctor. Somebody that people look up to, not down on. Somebody with a future.

CYNTHIA

You shouldn’t say that about yourself.

SAM

I thought I was in control of my life but I’m not. I’ve been numb. For a long time.

CYNTHIA (kindly)

Sir, you really should come with me.

(SAM gets up.)

SAM

I need to get off this bus. I’ve been on it too long.

CYNTHIA

Promise me you’ll see someone.

SAM

I’ll be okay.

CYNTHIA

Are you sure?

SAM

Thank you for helping me.

CYNTHIA

Stay safe.

SAM

Goodbye.

(SAM starts to exit.)

CYNTHIA

Do you want this?

(She holds up the cane.)

SAM

Save it. For another lost soul.

(SAM exits)

Lights down.

SCENE FOUR

Place

Chicago

Time

Same year as Scene Three

Setting: On stage right is a dining room table. Stage left is dark. There’s a “day chair” (not a hospital wheelchair but a wheelchair used daily by paraplegics or others with significant mobility challenges) located at the edge of stage left.

Lights up on stage right.

(MICHAEL, facing downstage, is seated at the dining room table typing something on his laptop. It should be positioned so that his face can be seen. He starts and stops repeatedly, seeming distracted by his thoughts. He closes the laptop. The cell phone is to his right. He picks it up, stares at it, and tosses it on the table. He rests his chin on the palm of his hand, lost in thought. He yawns and rubs his face with his hands to suggest he’s sleepy. He puts his arms and head on the table to take a quick nap. Lights go down on stage right; lights up on stage left.)

REBECCA

Michael?

(pause)

Michael.

(pause)

Michael.

MICHAEL

Rebecca?

REBECCA

Yes, it’s me. Come see me.

MICHAEL

Now?

REBECCA

Yes.

MICHAEL

Where are you?

REBECCA

Follow my voice. Over here.

(MICHAEL walks into REBECCA’s space.)

MICHAEL

Rebecca. Hello.

REBECCA

Hello, dear brother. It’s good to see you.

MICHAEL

Likewise.

(long pause)

Rebecca, I…I

REBECCA

Shhhh…there’s no need.

MICHAEL

But—

REBECCA

I’m glad you’re here. I’ve missed you.

MICHAEL

And I’ve missed you, too. So much.

(pause)

How, how are you?

REBECCA

I’m good, Michael. Really good.

MICHAEL

(clumsily trying to appear casual in the next few lines)

Good to hear!

(pause)

Uh…school? How’s premed going?

REBECCA

Physics is a real challenge.

MICHAEL

You’ve never met a challenge you didn’t love, right!

(awkward pause)

REBECCA

How are you, Michael.

MICHAEL

Me? Never better! Yeah, working my tail off but I’m on my way to partnership! I’ve become the antitrust expert at the firm! Do you know what’s funny about that?

(pause)

I said, do you know what’s—

REBECCA

What’s funny about that big brother?

MICHAEL

My lowest grade in law school was in antitrust! Got a B. Can you believe that? But I didn’t care for the professor. He sweat a lot. Sneezed a lot, too. A real turn off. Yeah, just uh…just uh..bad…man—but not a bad bad man. I’m sure, in his heart—

REBECCA

Are you happy, Michael?

(long pause)

MICHAEL

Am I happy?

REBECCA

Yes, are you happy?

MICHAEL

Why would you ask me that?

REBECCA

In my dreams I’ve seen you crying. Even in your office. You shut the door and break down. Why?

(MICHAEL walks down stage. He hangs his head for a few beats.)

MICHAEL

Regret, Rebecca. It’s real. It’s painful. Overwhelming. And it comes when I least expect it. And it won’t stop. It never stops.

REBECCA

Michael, look at me.

(MICHAEL turns to look at her.)

REBECCA

When I woke up in the hospital, I couldn’t move my legs. I couldn’t feel them. As hard as I tried to wake them up, they just laid there, limp, dead. When they told me I wouldn’t walk again, that I would spend the rest of my life in a wheelchair, I felt a rage. A rage so intense that I could bring down the hospital, kill me in an instant. Why did I have to go out and down shots of tequila to celebrate graduation? Why did I get into that car? Okay, I committed a crime, the crime of idiocy. But why was the punishment so severe?

(pause)

The rage eventually turned into sadness, which turned into what I thought would be a life of regret. Until one day when I was finishing my rehab, my therapist said she had heard I played tennis. She had a friend who volunteered at a wheelchair tennis clinic. Would I be interested in trying it out? But I said I played real tennis. She gave me a look.

MICHAEL

Awkward!

REBECCA

Yeah, that was pretty much stupid.

MICHAEL

Did you go?

REBECCA

I did. They strapped me into a sports wheelchair, like this one. Gave me a racquet. Put me on the court. They fed me a ball. I pushed awkwardly but I got to it. And when I sliced the ball over the net I felt so happy. I cried with joy. It was then, at that moment, that I forgave myself. And I let go of regret. I let it go. And I’m happy.

(pause)

Michael, my dear brother, you need to do the same. Can you do that?

MICHAEL

Will you help me?

REBECCA

Come over here, you silly boy.

(They hug; she taps the wheels.)

REBECCA

What do you think?

MICHAEL

I’ve never seen one up close. It’s..it’s crazy weird, sis.

REBECCA

Always the smartass, dear brother.

MICHAEL

Where are the brakes?

REBECCA

Brakes? After my first push I’m constantly moving. Moving through time and space, through possibilities, not knowing for sure what comes next but always hoping, hoping I’ll win the point. But even if I don’t, I feel alive. I can’t run. I can’t feel my legs, but I’m whole in who I am. Not half of what I used to be. I don’t need brakes, Michael. Hey, would you like to try?

MICHAEL

Me? No, I—

REBECCA

C’mon!

MICHAEL

I’ll be fine just watching you play.

REBECCA

Yeah, right. You’ll be glued to your phone, like most people in the stands.

MICHAEL

I didn’t bring it with me.

REBECCA (in mock shock)

What?

MICHAEL

You heard me.

REBECCA

Are you okay? Are you having night sweats? Convulsions? Projectile vomiting?

MICHAEL

Haha. I’m fine. Never felt better, actually.

REBECCA

Well, if that’s the case, I want you to try this.

MICHAEL

Sis, I really don’t think—

REBECCA

I’m making an executive decision.

MICHAEL

A what?

REBECCA

An executive decision, meaning you will try this weird chair. You can’t defy your sister!

(REBECCA transfers to her day chair. MICHAEL sits in the sports chair and awkwardly tries to strap himself in.)

MICHAEL

Now what?

REBECCA

Here’s the racquet. Now I’m going to toss you the ball and you’ll have to push the chair to meet it and use your wicked top spin—that was the best part of your game, but I was better.

MICHAEL (lovingly)

Stop!

REBECCA

Use that top spin to crush your opponent. Ready?

(She tosses the ball, but he doesn’t move, not even his racquet.)

REBECCA

You’re supposed to move and swing, Michael!

MICHAEL

I have no clue how to do this.

REBECCA

No worries. We have the rest of our lives to play together.

MICHAEL

Hey, let’s take a trip together. Just the two of us. This summer.

REBECCA

Where to?

MICHAEL

Have you heard of Charlevoix?

REBECCA

No. Where is it?

MICHAEL

Northern Michigan. It’s a beautiful little town. They plant petunias and geraniums all over. There’s a beautiful lake there. We can go sailing!

REBECCA

I would love that! How did you find out about it.

MICHAEL

Someone I met. Her name is Ruth.

REBECCA

Ruth. That’s a nice name.

Lights down.

SCENE FIVE

Place

Chicago

Time

Same year as Scene Four

Setting: There’s a kitchen counter center stage. On it are a bottle of wine and filled glasses, a long baguette, and other items suggested by the dialogue as they make dinner.They drink now and then throughout the scene.

Lights up.

CYNTHIA

How much cumin?

MICHAEL

Just a touch.

CYNTHIA

A pinch?

MICHAEL

Sure, my love. A pinch, no more, no less.

CYNTHIA

Take me to court if I mess up?

MICHAEL

You know it. Can you hand me the garlic press?

CYNTHIA

Take it easy on the garlic.

MICHAEL

If I mess up?

CYNTHIA

You’ll sleep in the guest room tonight.

MICHAEL

Rude.

CYNTHIA

Will you pour me a little more? I need it.

MICHAEL

Why is that?

CYNTHIA

I witnessed the most bizarre thing this morning on the bus.

MICHAEL

There’s always something weird happening on mass transit.

CYNTHIA

True but this was truly bizarre. These two guys got into a fight.

MICHAEL

A fight?

CYNTHIA

One was harassing the other with a cane, sticking the butt of it on the guy’s lap, like this.

(CYNTHIA takes the baguette and stabs MICHAEL’s hip with it.)

MICHAEL

Hey! I can sue you for that!

CYNTHIA

The guy with the cane asked the other if he owned the seat he was sitting on.

MICHAEL

What?

CYNTHIA

But do you know what really started the fight?

MICHAEL

What?

CYNTHIA

A bologna, mustard, and onion sandwich.

MICHAEL

Bologna, mustard and onions? Who eats that kind of sandwich? Sounds disgusting.

CYNTHIA

I know, right? The guy with the cane threw the gross sandwich guy on the floor. Hard.

MICHAEL

Was he okay?

CYNTHIA

Physically he checked out okay, but he was an emotional wreck. I tried to convince him he needed to come with me to the ER. Didn’t work.

MICHAEL

And nobody but you noticed?

CYNTHIA

No!

MICHAEL

How was that possible?

CYNTHIA

They were all staring at their phones.

MICHAEL

Wow. Hand me that cane and the knife.

(CYNTHIA hands him the baguette menacingly.)

MICHAEL

Please, no! I’m just the cook!

(CYNTHIA growls)

MICHAEL

Now the knife. Handle first!

(She hands him the knife; they prep for a few beats.)

CYNTHIA

Do you ever wonder why we’re here?

MICHAEL

What do you mean?

CYNTHIA

Why you’re a successful lawyer. Why I’m a respected doctor.

MICHAEL

Well, I suppose it’s because we’re smart and we’ve worked our asses off. We deserve it.

CYNTHIA

I’m not sure of that. Not after this morning.

MICHAEL

How can you doubt that?

CYNTHIA

Maybe it’s all luck.

MICHAEL

How so?

CYNTHIA

We were lucky to have been born into relatively wealthy families, with parents who themselves came from wealthy families.

MICHAEL

Yeah, okay.

CYNTHIA

Well, because of that, we went to the best schools, surrounded by students who themselves came from wealthy families. And because of all that, our brains, even our hormones, were conditioned to perform at high levels. And because of that, we went to Princeton, then to top law and med schools.

MICHAEL

Where are you going with this?

CYNTHIA

Maybe we really don’t deserve where we are. By mere chance, by luck, we’re the product of a chain reaction that made it highly probable we would be where we are.

MICHAEL

I don’t buy that. What about Jason? Just made partner at Goldman Sachs. He grew up dirt poor.

CYNTHIA

But it’s about probabilities, Michael. Jason might be the exception and we’re the rule. That gross sandwich guy. He asked me why he couldn’t be like me, a doctor, someone people look up to rather than look down upon, like him.

MICHAEL

Maybe he’s a slacker. Who eats a gross sandwich.

CYNTHIA

Or maybe he had the bad luck of being born into circumstances that made it probable he wouldn’t end up like us. What if it were the reverse? What if we were born under his circumstance and he in ours?

MICHAEL

So the guy is trapped. He can’t make a choice to make things better for himself. That’s depressing. I don’t buy it.

CYNTHIA

I didn’t say that. It’s just that he has had to face headwinds that we haven’t.

MICHAEL

Okay, you’re right about that. Now, can you cut the tomatoes?

CYNTHIA (playfully)

Are you brushing me off?

MICHAEL (playfully patronizing)

Me? Never. I have validated your feelings—

CYNTHIA

When you’re in a hole…

MICHAEL

Yeah, yeah, stop digging.

CYNTHIA

Thank you.

(CYNTHIA cuts the tomatoes as MICHEAL cuts the bread.)

MICHAEL

I saw Rebecca.

CYNTHIA

Maybe you’ve been working too hard, my love.

MICHAEL

No, I’m okay. I saw her. In a dream.

CYNTHIA

Oh.

MICHAEL

But it was that kind of dream that feels so real. Like I really saw her, you know. It was beautiful. It really was. And embarrassing.

CYNTHIA

How so?

MICHAEL

She put me in her sports wheelchair, gave me her racquet, and fed me a ball.

CYNTHIA

What’s embarrassing about that? You’re still a killer tennis player in your old age.

MICHAEL

I couldn’t move. I was frozen. I had no idea what to do.

CYNTHIA

Haha! Maybe you were the athlete with a disability.

MICHAEL

I suppose I was.

(Silence as they chop.)

MICHAEL

Do you know that a good number of partners at my firm are at least twice divorced?

CYNTHIA

Where did that come from?

(Long pause; MICHAEL is lost in thought.)

MICHAEL

Who was your favorite prof in pre-med, if you can remember?

CYNTHIA

Hmmm…let me think…maybe Professor Jenkins, physics.

MICHAEL

Ha!

CYNTHIA

That’s funny?

MICHAEL

No. It’s just that Rebecca said it was tough for her, too.

CYNTHIA

In your dream.

MICHAEL

Yes. In my dream. Only in my dream.

CYNTHIA

What about you?

MICHAEL

Contracts. Professor Taylor.

CYNTHIA

Why contracts?

MICHAEL

Because she scared the heck out of me.

CYNTHIA

Haha! Now it’s my turn to laugh!

(They drink.)

MICHAEL

You know, she’s still teaching at Chicago.

CYNTHIA

And?

MICHAEL

I think I’m going to pay her a visit. Talk to her about teaching.

CYNTHIA

What brought this on?

MICHAEL

A conversation I had on the train with a homeless woman a while back. I don’t think I told you about it.

CYNTHIA

What on earth did you talk to a homeless person about?

MICHAEL

How to let go.

CYNTHIA

I’m not following you, Michael.

MICHAEL

Did you know that adaptive sports chairs don’t have breaks?

CYNTHIA

Maybe you’ve told me, but I don’t remember. Why not?

MICHAEL

After the first push, you’re always moving, moving through time and space, with nothing holding you back, with nothing weighing you down. You’re in the moment, hoping for the best. And that, my love, is when you feel alive. Truly alive.

CYNTHIA

Give me a kiss, you dreamer.

(They kiss.)

Fade to black.

SCENE SIX

Place

Chicago

Time

Sometime after Scene One

Setting: Pete’s studio apartment furnished modestly in some way. A dining room table with chairs is center stage and a counter of sorts. There are props as indicated in the dialogue.

Lights up.

(PETE is sweeping the floor. There’s a knock on the door offstage. Pete puts down the broom and walks to the imaginary door.)

PETE

Yes?

(another knock)

SAM

Open the door, brother.

PETE

Sam!

(PETE opens the door.)

SAM

Hey, kiddo.

(They embrace.)

SAM

How are you?

PETE

I’m…I’m good! Why? Are—

SAM

I’m in town for a couple of days.

PETE

A couple of days?

SAM

I’m on a business trip.

(They look at each other for a beat.)

SAM

Well, are you going to invite me in?

PETE

Yeah…yeah, of course.

(SAM takes his coat off.)

SAM

You got somewhere I can—

PETE

Give it to me.

(PETE hangs it on the coat rack.)

SAM

Wicked out there.

PETE

It’s February in Chicago. Have you forgotten?

SAM

I wish I could. Hey, what’s that on your shoe?

(PETE looks down and SAM flicks PETE’s nose.)

PETE

Sam!

(SAM wrestles playfully with PETE.)

SAM

You still fall for that!

PETE

I’ll get you back!

SAM

Good luck! Hey, nice pad, Pete. You’re moving up in the world.

PETE

Suits me just fine.

SAM

 You’re not too far from mom.

PETE

You’ve seen her?

SAM

I called. Are you free tomorrow?

PETE

Yeah. I don’t work weekends. Not usually.

SAM

Good. We’ll spend the day together.

PETE

Super!

(awkward pause)

How…how was you flight. Here. From…

SAM

Seattle. Pretty smooth. A bump here and there.

(awkward pause)

PETE

Hey, what can I get ya. I got some beer.

SAM

Water’s fine.

(SAM sits at the table as PETE fills the glass from a pitcher.)

PETE

Ice?

SAM

Pete, if I want ice, I can get a chunk outside.

PETE

Still a wise ass.

SAM

Still.

(PETE fills another glass for himself, brings them over to the table and sits; awkward pause.)

SAM

Hey, I got something for you!

(SAM goes to his coat and pulls out a Snickers bar and tosses it to PETE.)

PETE

Hey, thanks, Sam!

(PETE unwraps the bar and takes a bite as SAM sits.)

SAM

I figured you were still addicted to it. Have you ever lived a little and tried something else? Maybe KitKat? M&Ms?

PETE

I would never be unfaithful.

SAM (playfully)

But it’s a candy bar, stupid!

PETE

We’re engaged.

SAM

Funny guy.

(awkward pause)

So what kind of work are you doing these days?

PETE

I’m a paralegal.

SAM

Really!

PETE

What? You think I’m not smart enough?

SAM

Of course, you’re smart enough.

PETE

I got a certificate and do family law.

SAM

What’s that all about?

PETE

I handle mostly divorces.

SAM

Is that right?

PETE

Most of ‘em want to kill each other.

SAM

In love one day and the next trying to rip each other’s throats out.

PETE

That’s pretty much it.

(PETE takes another bite.)

SAM

Pete… I’m sorry—

PETE

You know mom cried for weeks.

SAM

I’m so sorry, Pete.

PETE

I’ve missed you. A lot.

SAM

And I’ve missed you and mom a lot.

(pause)

Pete, you know so many times we fall into patterns in life that after a while become dead and meaningless. Every day is a repeat of the day before. We think we’re happy. But we’re actually not. Do you get what I’m saying?

PETE

Yeah. I think so.

SAM

And so many times we don’t try to break those patterns.

PETE

But if they’re dead and meaningless, why not?

SAM

Because we’re afraid.

PETE

Of what?

SAM

Of what’s on the outside of those patterns. It’s safer to stay in them. Take no risks.

PETE

What happened? I mean you said something happened that made you realize you were unhappy.

SAM

I was on a bus one morning and I sat next to a man with a cane.

PETE

You said something about that in your letter.

SAM

He was crazy. Kept poking me with his cane. All I wanted was to disappear into my phone, disappear into that dead zone, that safe space. But he wouldn’t leave me alone. I finally exploded and we fought. He won, smashed my phone and left me the cane.

PETE

What the hell?

SAM

But, Pete, it was the best thing that happened in my life. He didn’t just smash my phone. He smashed the lifeless pattern I was stuck in. Does that make sense?

PETE

Do you have another Snickers?

SAM

What? No.

PETE

I think I need another one after that story.

(they laugh)

SAM

Hey, I’m hungry. Whatcha got here?

PETE

Not much I’m afraid. How about a sandwich? I don’t have bologna, mustard, and onions. I gave it up.

SAM

I gave it up, too. After the fight. What else might you have?

PETE

How about a PB&J?

SAM

Sounds great!

(PETE grabs the stuff to make the sandwiches and places them on the table. PETE divides the bread.)

PETE

Two for me and two for you. Or should we do five each and play five-card stud.

SAM (playfully)

Now that’s hitting below the belt, Pete!

(PETE puts a big glob of peanut butter on his slice.)

SAM

Bro, you’re going to choke to death on that!

PETE

Nah. The secret is the jelly.

(PETE puts a huge glob of jelly on the other slice. SAM stares in astonishment.)

SAM

I don’t know what to say.

PETE

Then shut up and make your sandwich, bro!

SAM

Haha.

(SAM starts making his sandwich.)

PETE

So what do you now?

SAM

I’m in sales. I work for a company that sells organizational software to college athletic programs.

PETE

Cool.

SAM

Landed a big one a few months back, University of Alabama’s wheelchair sports programs.

PETE

I’ve seen some of that stuff. Impressive athletes.

SAM

They are. Alabama’s wheelchair tennis team has won seven national titles in the past eight years.

PETE

Awesome.

SAM

For sure.  There’s a big booster of the team. Michael Cranston.

PETE

That’s funny.

SAM

What?

PETE

I met a guy named Michael in Annapolis.

SAM

Annapolis?!

PETE

We moved down there to be near Aunt Beth but didn’t like it.

SAM

Why?

PETE

Felt funny. We’re made for Chicago.

SAM

What did you do down there?

PETE

Worked for a schooner business. Took tourists out on the bay. That’s where I met this guy. We talked while he was waiting to board.

(SAM takes a bite of the sandwich.)

The guy didn’t have a cane but he sorta made me think I could do other things.

SAM

That’s good, Pete.

PETE

Nice guy. Never saw him again.

SAM

I guess that’s why they’re called tourists.

PETE

What’s a booster?

SAM

Usually a big donor with a lot of money to give to the program. But this guy brings more enthusiasm and passion for sport than lots of money, at least that’s what I’ve been told. Apparently, his sister played there.

PETE

A pro now I imagine?

SAM

No. She passed.

PETE

Oh.

(they eat)

PETE

Hey, Sam.

SAM

Yeah?

PETE

I think I’m gonna go to law school someday. Become a rich and famous lawyer and buy a big sailboat. I’ll take you and mom wherever you want to go! Anywhere in the world! We’ll be together again! What do you think?

SAM

Sounds beautiful, Pete. I can’t wait.

PETE

So where are you going from here?

SAM

To Annapolis.

PETE

Really?

SAM

Crazy, right?

PETE

Sure is.

SAM

Corporate wants me to meet him and his family.

PETE

You should try the schooner.

SAM

I will.

PETE

I love the water. When you’re sailing, you’re always moving. Nothing holding you back, nothing weighing you down. You feel like anything’s possible. You know what I mean?

SAM

I do little brother. I truly do.

THE END

THE ESCALATOR

THE ESCALATOR

by

Enrique Carrasco

CHARACTERS

MITCH, in his 40’s

SAM, in his late 30’s

SETTING

Present day. An escalator going up. Stage is bare except for two blocks suggesting an escalator. Mitch is one step below Sam, who is holding a cane.

MITCH

May I?

SAM

Sorry?

MITCH

May I?

SAM

May you what?

MITCH

Stand next to you?

SAM

What?

MITCH

Just take a step up.

SAM

Why would you do that?

MITCH

It’s a ways up.

SAM

And?

MITCH

Well, I don’t want to take this all the way up. Alone.

SAM

But you’re not alone. Look around.

   (pause)

MITCH

It’s very steep. All the way up. Isn’t it?

SAM

Yes, it’s steep.

   (pause)

MITCH

Well, here I come.

   (MITCH steps up to stand next to SAM)

SAM

I’m sorry but—

MITCH

Quite a feat, isn’t it?

SAM

Don’t stand next to me.

MITCH

Why not?

SAM

Well, for one thing, you’re blocking other people. You know. Who walk up.

MITCH

They won’t mind. I don’t think so. No, they won’t.

   (pause)

SAM

Why don’t you walk?

MITCH

I can walk. I can walk just fine.

SAM

That’s not what I mean.

MITCH

What do you mean?

SAM

You know what I mean.

MITCH

Actually, I don’t.

SAM

Yes. You do. Sir.

MITCH

Sir. My dad used to make me call him sir. Some people think that’s weird. Odd. But I don’t think so. It’s a sign of respect. Don’t see much of that these days. Do you?

SAM

I wouldn’t know.

MITCH

Why wouldn’t you?

SAM

I haven’t taken a survey.

   (pause)

MITCH

Yes, this is quite a feat.

SAM

What is?

MITCH

This. Quite a feat of engineering.

SAM

This escalator?

MITCH

Of course. What else would I be talking about?

SAM

I really don’t care. Please, move on.

MITCH

I wanted to be an engineer.

   (pause)

I loved playing with Legos. You know, those—

SAM

I know what they are.

MATCH

One day I was building a fort, like an engineer. I was a genius. I must have been seven or eight. Yes, I was building a fort as I recall. I asked my mom for a hot dog with mustard. But she gave me one with ketchup instead. I got very angry. Out of my mind, actually. I found a hammer and smashed the fort into pieces. They flew all over the place. I cut my forehead. I bled a lot. Couldn’t see. Not really. Has that ever happened to you?

SAM

Smashed a Lego set?

MITCH

No.

SAM

Then what are you asking me?

MITCH

Have you bled? A lot?

SAM

What kind of question is that?

MITCH

It’s a simple one. You don’t need a survey for that. Do you know why?

(pause)

Do you know why I’m asking?

SAM

I don’t.

MITCH

Are you Jesus Christ?

SAM

What are you on?

MITCH

Did you die on the cross? Did you bleed?

SAM

Fuck off.

   (pause)

MITCH

I suppose you couldn’t be.

SAM

Why? Maybe I am Jesus Christ.

MITCH

No. Actually, you couldn’t be.

SAM

Why not?

MITCH

Because you’re using a cane. Christ wasn’t a cripple.

   (pause)

SAM

You smell.

MITCH

I don’t!

SAM

You do.

MITCH

Can I have your cane?

SAM

No.

MITCH

I want it.

SAM

You smell!

MITCH

I DON’T! I DON’T! I DON’T!

SAM

You’re rancid. Putrid. Rotting. You’re a pile of stinking flesh with no soul.

MITCH

I want a hot dog! With mustard! That’s all I wanted! All I ever wanted!

(pause)

SAM

We’re almost at the top.

MITCH

Are we?

SAM

Yes. We are.

MITCH

I’m afraid.

SAM

Why?

MITCH

I don’t know.

SAM

Yes. We’re almost at the top. Almost.

THE END

NOTES ON “IT’S OKAY”

by

Enrique R. Carrasco

My play is based loosely on a true story. My sister Maria, who lived in Chicago, committed suicide a number of years ago. She had suffered from mental illness most of her life but refused to take medication. I, too, have had to cope with mental illness. I’m bipolar but I take medication.

Shortly after she jumped to her death, I sketched out a vignette of a brother, Juan, and sister, Alicia, enjoying an afternoon in Lincoln Park. It starts as loving exchanges about their roots in Chicago, where most of my eight siblings were born, Michigan, where my mother was born, and Ecuador, where my father was born. But soon the conversation evolves into an argument about decisions to take or not to take medication.

At some point Juan ponders the “what if” question. It’s a universal query. What if British Prime Minister Neville Chamberlain had not appeased Hitler by allowing him to occupy part of Czechoslovakia. Would that have prevented Hitler from invading Poland and triggering World War II? What if Mr. Abumayyaleh, the owner of a convenience store in Minneapolis, had not instructed a clerk to call the police after George Floyd used a fake $20 bill to buy cigarettes. Would Floyd still be alive? 

In Maria’s case, all of her sibs and her husband had asked the same question: What if any of us had done the one thing, whatever that thing might have been, would Maria still be alive? Juan says that’s a useless question because it calls for the construction of an alternate reality that is beyond our reach. Posing the question only invites anger and despair. The vignette ends with Juan and Alicia accepting who they are and expressing love for each other. The sister, however, no longer exists in reality. Juan is really alone in the park.

Years later, I decided to expand upon the vignette, which led to the creation of IT’S OKAY. The play explores the characters in greater depth while addressing broader issues surrounding Maria’s suicide, such as how we think about pills in our society. Should we respect, rather than look down upon, people with mental illness who for multiple reasons don’t want to be medicated? What about the broader negative externalities beyond an individual’s refusal to take medication, ranging from crippling anguish among surviving family members and friends after a suicide, to mass shootings that in matter of minutes wipe so many people off the face of the earth?

In addition to the issues themselves, I also wanted to create something that was missing in my vignette: a “meta construct” in which the characters exist and interact. It’s based (very) loosely on the philosophical works of Jacques Derrida, who explored the concept of word iterability, and Ludwig Wittgenstein, who wrote more broadly about the nature and meaning of language.

By iterability I mean that language isn’t possible without the ability to use the same word in different contexts. Take the word “pass” for example: Pass me the butter. You can pass me on the right. I might not pass the test.

As to Wittgenstein, he argued (in his later work) that the meaning of language is derived through publicly-shared agreements in society on the rules for the usage of a word. The rules create communities of understanding through which life exists. His concept can be applied to, say, rules in a country, a family, a neighborhood, as well as within communities of persons with intersectional identities based on gender, sexual preference, race, ethnicity, etc. Although we can’t see all of those rules working visibly in the play, they nevertheless exist and give meaning to words that inhabit the world of Juan and Alicia in the park.

My play begins by setting up the meta construct through Juan’s soliloquy on the use and meaning of the word “love” but only introducing the words “it’s okay.” He ends by asking “what about Alicia?” Does she have meaning only because of the meta construct? Can the same question be asked about Juan? Is their relationship as brother and sister more specifically defined by their agreement on rules of their shared language?

I explore these questions in various ways, such as when they talk about the meaning of the words “peaceful” and “acceptance.” Crucially, they grapple with the meaning of “what if,” the words Juan spoke disdainfully of in the vignette, not only in their broad significance but also as they relate to their lives, both as individuals as well as brother and sister. As their argument over medication heats up, Alicia asks, “why are we here?” Is she asking, why are we here in the park? Why are we here in terms of the evolution of our relationship as informed by our life-long use of words between us? Why are we here as individuals, each using words to get what we need from each other?

The play takes a profound turn in meaning when Alicia asks Juan why he didn’t call her while she was hospitalized due to a serious mental breakdown. She says that Juan is the “one person who could understand me. Understand my world. Our world.” Is she saying they were bound by the meaning of words she and Juan had shared when talking about mental illness? Juan protests that she is “breaking the rules.” What rules are those? The rules they’ve created as to the use of their shared language? The rules of the older brother dictating which meanings between them should be privileged over the other? The rules that governed their encounter(s?) in the park?

Alicia then asks the critical question, the question Juan has avoided since her suicide: What if you could change one thing that would prevent catastrophe? Only because of iterability and rules of meaning can we see that she’s using the words in a context that differs vastly from Juan’s use of them when he first posed the question. 

Alicia persists in her questioning despite Juan’s protestations. “Say it” she says lovingly. He finally relents, saying, “I should’ve called.” There is great meaning in his utterance but it isn’t, for instance, “I should’ve called to make a reservation.” Alicia finally brings Juan to his cathartic reckoning by saying “Alicia” is “a simple word. I just wanted to hear you say my name, speak it, into my world, dear brother.” The word “Alicia” would be meaningless if it didn’t belong to a language with publicly-shared rules on word use. But here we can see it is profoundly meaningful in so many ways. 

The play ends with Juan once again delivering a soliloquy on iterability and language. Words can be used brutally, he says. But what if there are no words? Would we lose everything that has meaning to us? Would we cease to exist? Juan thinks so: There would only be a “wordless abyss.”

The play ends with Juan returning to the words, “it’s okay” and their iterability, such as “it’s okay, I suppose” or “it’s okay, it’s good to go.” He then hears a whisper of his sister’s spirit. She say, ‘It’s okay to feel the trauma of grief, it’s okay to feel the pain of letting go, it’s okay to fear the future without me.” And she promises Juan that there will be better days to come.

In words of assurance that he will survive her suicide, she says, “Words, Juan, what you will speak tomorrow because you will be there.” Alicia is saying to Juan, and to all of us who struggle to survive the suicide of a loved one, that by speaking words we will be alive to the world, engaged in life through language and love.