31: Orange you glad I didn't say Paranoid.

Michael enters Janet’s apartment. He rushes into the kitchen. He opens the refrigerator door. He scans viciously.

Michael: Come on. Where are you? Where the fuck are you?

The telephone rings. Michael dashes to answer it and leaves the fridge door open. He looks for a caller ID, but there is none. He puts his hand out to answer and then recoils –thinking better of it. The phone continues to ring and ring. Michael runs around the apartment, tearing it apart. He looks under cushions on the couch and all around the room. He knocks things over and sweat appears on his brow. The place becomes a shambles. After awhile, Michael collapses on the couch. Almost a minute later, Janet enters.

Michael: (jumping up) Hi, hon. Janet.

Janet: Michael. What happened?

Michael: I’ve been going crazy. I need to find something.

Janet: What?

Michael: Wait. Why are you home?

Janet: Nobody bought this afternoon and Carol sent me home. Well first she asked me to come over and I said: No. I kind of shouted it in her face –like this: No! I didn’t mean to yell at her, but it just slipped out. She said that that was okay and then I left. We have to go eat some dessert at Paula’s anyway.

Michael: Not till tonight. Anyway. . .umm Janet. I’m looking for something very important.

Janet: What?

Michael: That orange I brought home.

Janet: What about it?

Michael: I want to eat it. I’m very hungry.

Janet: What orange?

Michael: You know that-

Janet: I remember now. I-

Michael: Yeah? Yeah?

Janet: This place is really a mess. Did you need it that badly?

Michael: Yes, I just- want- an orange. . . I really.

Janet: I-

Michael: What? What did you do with it?

The telephone begins ringing again.

Michael: Just a second. Tell me first.

Janet: I gave it to Paula for breakfast.

Michael: Did she eat it? Did she?

Janet: I don’t know. Why is an orange so important to you?

Michael: Nevermind.

The telephone continues to ring.

Janet: Michael. I have to get the phone.

Michael: Go ahead. (He slumps down onto the couch.)

Janet: Hello? Oh. Yes. Hold on.

Michael: What?

Janet: It’s for you.

Michael: For me?

Janet: Yeah.

Michael: Who is it?

Janet: I don’t know.

Michael: But it’s not your father.

Janet: No. It’s not.

Michael: (taking the phone) Hello?

Toby: Man. We’re in deep.

Michael: Why are you calling me here?

Toby: Bud, it’s an emergency.

Michael: What?

Toby: The orange is gone and my shower curtain has been dismantled.

Michael: So?

Toby: So?! Somebody was here when we were here.

Michael: You know who it is.

Toby: Who?

Michael: Need I even say it?

Toby: Is Janet there?

Michael: Yes.

Toby: Well you know what we have to do then.

Michael: Ummm. Not sure, but I’ll be down to work in just a bit. Thanks for letting me know. Good-bye.

He hangs up the phone. Janet looks frightened.

Janet: What’s going on?

Michael: Nothing.

Janet: I’m scared.

Michael: Why?

Janet: Your face looks mad.

Michael: I’m not mad.

Janet: I thought you were because I gave the orange to-

Michael: Well, I did want to eat it, but I’m not that mad.

Janet: Why did you wreck the apartment?

Michael: I was really hungry.

Janet: Michael. Who was that?

Michael: Work. I’m getting called in. They need some extra guys.

Janet: You look so tired.

Michael: I am tired. I’ll be home later.

Janet: Don’t forget we have to go to Paula’s tonight!

Michael: I won’t. I can’t wait to see her.

Janet: Good.

Michael: You don’t have to clean all this up. I’ll do it when I get back.

Janet: Okay. Bye.

Michael: Bye. (He exits.)

Janet: Love you.

30: With a Twist of Orange.

Toby’s apartment building –some of the windows are boarded up. The rain is still pouring now. Michael is soaked and goes up to the building. A block behind, Paula parks the car. She stares at Michael. She watches Michael push a button for the buzzer. Michael waits impatiently and she ducks down below her steering wheel when Michael looks around to see if anybody is watching.

Paula: He’s guilty of something.

She looks above the steering wheel only to see Michael go inside the building. She jumps out of her car with her purse on her shoulder and goes up to the buzzer. Meanwhile in Toby’s apartment, Toby lays on the couch, hung over and half asleep. There is a knock.

Toby: Who is it?

Michael: Me.

Toby: What the fuck?

Michael: Let me in.

Toby: Don’t you have a key?

Michael: I thought you’d let me in.

Toby: Didn’t I just see you a few hours ago?

Michael: Yeah, but this is serious. Why didn’t you answer my buzz?

Toby: Look at me. Do I look in any shape to be doing anything?

Michael: Well. We have to do something now. Thanks to last night.

Toby: What do you mean?

Michael: That bitch- Janet’s caseworker- she’s getting all nosy. I’m not joking.

Toby: Chill out.

Michael: I’m having to keep up with so much. . .who I am, what I am doing, etc. etc. I’m living a lie with Janet.

Toby: Yeah, so what?

Michael: This caseworker. She doesn’t trust me. She’s always around, asking questions, fucking everything up. . .

The buzzer.

Toby: What the fuck?

Michael: Who buzzes you at nine in the morning?

Toby: I don’t know. Ask who it is?

Michael: (pressing a button on the buzzer) Who is it?

No answer.

Toby: What the fuck. (He gets up and goes to the buzzer) Look Asshole. Who the fuck is this?

No answer.

Michael: Calm down. Just ignore it.

Toby: I wish we could see down to the street side of this damn apartment. I could just look and see who it is.

Michael: Yeah. What do you think we should do? She already stole a piece of mail of mine. I was looking for it this morning and Janet said that Paula had taken it.

Toby: So?

Michael: So? It has my fake last name. . .everything that’s not right about me.

Toby: So? What does it prove?

Michael: I don’t know. She’s nosy. What?

Toby: I buzzed them up. We should stop talking about it.

Michael: Why did you do that? You don’t even know who it was that buzzed.

Toby: (opening the door and looking into the dimly lit hallway.) I don’t see anybody.

Paula is hidden around the corner from their open door. She listens to their voices.

Michael: Maybe somebody just needed to get in the building.

Toby: Maybe. Hey I need to drink some water. Do you want to go to the vending machines with me?

Michael: Fine. But what are we gonna do?

Toby: We’ve got to think of a way to throw them from your trail.

Michael: Yeah, but how? You don’t drink tap water?

Toby: Not from this neighborhood.

Michael: I always did when I lived here.

Toby: Yeah, and look at your paranoia.

Michael: I’m not paranoid. I’m concerned.

Toby: About what, bro?

Michael: You know.

Toby: I know nothing. Remember? You gotta learn some manners, boy.

They come into the hallway after Toby has slipped some sneakers on. They pass Paula, but don’t see her. She waits for them to be out of sight and then she goes back to their apartment door and enters it. She is frantic. She observes the filth and sees a mirror with razor blade on the counter. She gasps and backs into a bookcase with incense burners on it. She is startled and drops her purse. The orange rolls out to the base of the bookcase. She snatches her purse and goes into the bathroom –not seeing the orange. In the bathroom, the sink basin is littered with needles and blood. Paula gasps and hears the door close back in the living room. She jumps in the shower and closes the curtain.

Toby: What do you want me to do, Michael? Kill her to?

Michael: Fuck no. No. We just have to make sure she’s quiet. Get her to trust me.

Toby: We have to think. Let me think. I’m good at these sorts of things. God damn this headache.

Michael: I think no more of this though. We’ll have to participate in this from our minds.

Toby: Not even a letter?

Michael: Fuck no. Wait.

Toby: What?

Michael: You can’t write something down. Do you know how incriminating that is?

Michael puts a finger to his lips. Paula strains to hear what they are saying. Michael points to the orange that Paula dropped.

Toby: So?

Michael: How did that get there?

Toby: I don’t know.

Michael: Did you buy them?

Toby: No. I told you who they’re for.

Michael: I took that to Janet’s this morning. Now it’s back. Strange. Don’t you think?

Toby: Whatever.

Michael: I don’t like this.

Toby: Like what?

Michael: The fruit.

Toby: Who cares. Get over it.

Michael: Shut up. Anyway. . .what’re we gonna do?

Toby: I don’t know. I told you.

Michael: Well, until you figure out a plan when we can appear together in public, this is good-bye.

Toby: Shut the fuck up.

Michael: I’m serious.

Toby: You asshole.

Michael: You want this to work?

Toby: It will work. It will.

Michael: What do you have to fear from me being gone? We’ll be together again. You know that.

Silence. Paula strains.

Michael: Let me go.

Toby: I’ll think about this Paula thing.

Paula gasps at her name.

Toby: What was that?

Michael: I didn’t hear anything.

Toby: Look now you’ve got me all fucking paranoid.

Michael: I gotta go. I think this day is weird though. I feel like everything is crashing down.

Toby: Oh you’re so fucking melodramatic. Get over yourself.

Michael: Whatever. I’m gonna get back.

Toby: I’ll walk you out, ass.

Michael: Only call me if you have a viable reason that we should see each other. . .

Toby: I’ll call you if I want to call you.

Michael: You call me and I’ll drop the plan, buddy.

Toby: You wouldn’t.

Michael: There’s no reason to get involved. It’ll happen. We just have to make it like clockwork. Smooth, baby, smooth.

Toby: Don’t say smooth, baby to me. I don’t wanna fucking hear it. I wanna sleep. Get the hell out of here.

Michael: Can I ask you for one thing?

Toby: What’s that?

Paula peeks between the crack in the shower curtain. She sees both of them.

Michael: A good-bye kiss?

Toby: How about an orange?

Paula looks in her purse and sees the orange is gone.

Michael: I have one at home. Remember?

Toby: I don’t like fruits remember.

Michael: That’s not what you proved last night.

Toby: Fuck-

Michael: Come here.

Paula looks up. She sees Michael and Toby kissing passionately.

Toby: Enough. Before I chew your lip off. I’m kind of hungry. Go home and get into dry clothes, asshole.

Michael: Yeah. Yeah.

Toby: Come on.

Toby and Michael exit. Paula panics and slips in the tub. She pulls the shower curtain down as she falls. She gets up and doesn’t try to fix it. She rushes into the living room, sees the orange, and grabs it off the floor and jams it into her purse. She runs towards the door perspiring and shaking. She closes the door and looks down the hallway to see any sign of Toby. She sees him coming back and walks the opposite way –out the back of the building.

Toby: (sings) God, fucking make my headache go away. Please, don’t make it stay. Yeah yeah yeah.

He enters the apartment.

Toby: (flashing back) Michael: Have a fruit, you fruit.

Toby: (sings) Juicy Fruit. Yeah. Juicy Fruit. Yeah. Gonna make some juicy with my fruity. Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. Since my baby left me. I’ve found a new place to dwell- what the fuck?

He looks for the orange. It’s gone. He looks into the open bathroom door and sees the shower curtain.

Toby: Uh oh.

29: The Hunger to Know the Truth

Still morning. Paula sits in her car alone on the street. She has a notebook in her lap. She writes.

Paula: (thinking/writing) I remember when I was a little girl and I read Hugo’s Les Miserables. It was a beautiful book about a man who is destroyed by society and takes his duty to raise an orphaned young girl in revolutionary France. The book highlights the man’s life and sagas his run from the law for breaking parole for stealing a loaf of bread for his starving sister. Jean Valjean is the sympathetic protagonist and Javert is the corrupt, obsessed, yet pitiful cop who has made it his life’s work to capture Valjean. I feel so torn. I feel that once I met Janet, it has been my duty to protect her, but now I feel like I am also playing the Javert role. I want so badly to catch Michael in the act of something. But maybe he is good. No. No. My heart says no. Why don’t I trust him? Is it a mother’s intuition? Stop it, Paula. No. Janet is not your real daughter. We know what happened to her. You couldn’t have done anything to prevent it. You couldn’t. Stop wasting your time. Stop it.

Paula looks out the car window. She looks at her phone.

Paula: Two missed calls. Hmmm. I wonder if they were from the office. (she checks her cell phone) Camden wouldn’t have called me back already. Ha. Carol. Carol called? What does that money grubbing bitch want? Hmmm. Voicemail. (She presses some buttons and listens.)

Voicemail: Two new voicemails. First message.

Carol: Hi, Paula. It’s Carol. From the fruit stand. It’s about 7:25 and Janet still isn’t here yet. She’s never past quarter after seven and I was just wondering. . .well today is the busiest day. I didn’t know how else to get a hold of her and since you have called me so many times recently, I thought you would know where she is. Thanks.

Paula: Oh no. Janet’s missing. Shit.

Voicemail: Second unheard message.

Carol: Nevermind. She’s here. She just pulled up on her bike.

Voicemail: End of messages.

Paula: (hanging up the phone) Oh Thank God. Listen to how you reacted. You are such a baby, Paula. Of course she was late to work. After this morning’s ordeal. . .And that was not normal. No. No. It wasn’t. His behavior is strange. Shifty. You need to figure it out. What is wrong with Michael? Hmmm. There has to be a way to get to the bottom of it. But what about Frederick? He’s your son. Not them. He’s your flesh and blood and, and, well. . .I don’t care as much as I should. I feel horrible. Oh my poor baby. Today. Today and that’s it. I will get to the bottom of it. I have to.

It starts to rain.

Paula: (thinking) Oh shit. How am I going to see now? I can’t even see out of my car. But better to be concealed here then. Not as easy to be detected. Yes. Yes. I’ll wait here. I’m kind of hungry. I should have packed a sandwich, but how would I have known. . .oh, wait. I have that orange-

Telephone rings.

Paula: Hello? Oh hi. Yeah. I’m out doing some house work today. No, not my house work. I meant house calls. I stopped by Janet Windhover’s. . .I’ll be in- Oh. I didn’t realize. Sorry about that. Schedule them in at 4:30. That’ll be my last appointment of the day. Oh no, Sue. You can go home early. Just schedule them, leave the keys in your desk drawer and I will lock up the offices. Then you just have to go around and make sure the house is locked up and that everyone is inside. Oh no. They can go out into the yard if they like through the back. They aren’t prisoners there. Okay. Talk to you later, Sue. Bye. Bye. (She hangs up. Thinking) Oh, Paula. Get over yourself. Calm down. You shouldn’t have had all this coffee. You are so jittery. Just breathe. Just breathe. Breathe. There. There. Wait. The letter. The letter from Yale.

She takes the letter out of her purse.

Paula: Hmmm. . . congratulations on your acceptance. . .nothing odd here. Let’s see. Let’s see. There must be something. Sandera. Sandera. Never heard of it –not in this town. . . but this town isn’t that small. . .but it’s not that big either. Who is his father? Hmmmm. I could call information. They might have something. (She dials and listens.) Hi, yes. . .could you possibly help me? I’m looking for anybody in this town with the last name Sandera. Yes, that’s right. No matches? It’s spelled S-A-N-D-E—yes that’s correct.
Nothing. . .huh? Okay. . .thank you very much. (she hangs up) But his last name could be different from his parents. There are a lot of factors. . .and he did say that he changed his phone number to Janet’s house. But wouldn’t that come up? Maybe it’s unlisted. Huh. A dead end again. Nothing. Paula. Michael went to bed. He’s not going to leave the house again this early in the morning. He will be asleep until the afternoon. You should just drive off. But wait. What if he comes out again in the next five minutes and you will have missed him? You’re crazy, Paula. You’re insane. Janet isn’t your daughter. Your daughter is dead. Dead. DEAD!

She starts crying at the thoughts. She puts her head in her hands and weeps. Then stops. She sits up abruptly. She takes the letter and holds it up!

Paula: The postmark! The postmark! It’s postmarked yesterday! How did he know that he was going to be accepted a few days ago when he got the letter yesterday? This is a discrepancy that needs explanation. But everything needs an explanation with you Paula, you are an uptight explanation whore! . . .stop it. Stop. You are doing this in the name of Janet. And if it protects her. It protects your sanity. Wait. There he is.

Michael has exited Janet’s apartment building and walks in the rain down the street.

Paula: I’ll have to follow him. I have to. But I’ll wait until he gets down the street so he doesn’t know I’m there. I can’t lose him. Not this time. I just can’t. Eating and other healthy things will have to wait.

She jams the letter, phone, and notebook into her overfull purse and then starts her car.

28: The Beginning of the Last Day

Janet’s Living Room. Paula sits on the couch, Janet’s head is in her lap. The sun creeps in through a side window. Paula rubs her eyes and watches Pinocchio. Occasionally she looks from the door, to the window, to the TV, to her watch, and then to Janet. Otherwise she stares at the TV. After awhile, she picks up the phone and dials.

Paula: Hi Camden. It’s Paula. I’m just calling to leave you a message about your daughter’s fiancée. Apparently, he didn’t come home last night and Janet has been worried sick and didn’t get any sleep. I am worried myself. I am with Janet now, she finally is asleep after all night of being awake.

Unbeknownst to Paula, Michael enters with the paper bag.

Paula: So after ten I’m going to go over to the office so you can reach me there. Otherwise, you can reach me here at Janet’s. I’m just gonna go looking like this even though I’ve gotten very little sleep. Call me at your earliest convenience please. (annoyed) I have no doubt that you will. Talk to you soon. Bye.

Michael: Why didn’t you get any sleep?

Paula: Michael! Where in the hell were you?

Michael: I was-

Paula: Shhhh! She’s sleeping. You better have a good explanation.

Michael: I don’t owe you anything.

Paula: Do I smell liquor?

Michael: I don’t know, do you?

Paula: Have you been drinking?

Michael: I don’t know. . .have I?

Paula: You’re not the same Michael that I met.

Michael: Really? You never seemed to trust me before, what’s different now?

Paula: Nothing. You have a point.

Michael: I’m tired. I have to get some sleep.

Paula: (wedges out from under Janet) Just a second.

Michael: I don’t have a second for you.

Janet: Paula? Paula?

Paula: Look what you’ve done. You’ve gone and woke her up.

Michael: Good morning, sleepy head.

Janet: Good morning.

Paula: Michael. Stop. Don’t move another inch.

Michael: What is it, Paula?

Paula: Where were you last night? Janet didn’t even know. We have been worried sick. Please explain to us something.

Michael: Janet. What did I tell you yesterday?

Janet: You told me a lot of things.

Michael: Exactly. But what did I tell you about where I would be when I left?

Janet: I don’t remember.

Michael: That I had to work.

Janet: Oh yeah.

Michael: Paula, if you would remember correctly, I work at the fire station. Do you remember that?

Paula: Yes.

Michael: I seem to remember a certain phone call. Hounding them for information on me.

Paula: I did no such thing. I called them to find you. You said you were coming down to my office to sign some papers. You never showed.

Michael: So I didn’t. I guess I forgot.

Paula: You also never came home last night.

Michael: Paula, Janet. I’m a firefighter. We work strange hours. I was at work at the station house. What part of that don’t you understand?

Janet: I understand.

Paula: Why do I smell liquor on your breath?

Michael: One of the boys brought a night cap in his thermos after we finished, we all had a shot of whiskey.

Paula: I see.

Michael: Janet, you and I will have to set some ground rules about this. I don’t want to tell you things and have you forget.

Janet: I didn’t forget. You didn’t tell me you would be gone over night.

Michael: I did. You were watching that. That movie that is always on the TV. I bet you weren’t listening. You were in a trance.

Janet: I always listen to you.

Michael: Look. I’m very tired. I have to go to bed.

Paula: What’s in the bag?

Michael: How about I just drop my pants right here, Paula?

Paula: Excuse me?

Michael: You are so into our business all the time. How long before you just strip me of everything I have?

Paula: Michael. Janet called me worried sick last night. I have been like a mother to her all of these years. You can’t blame me for being worried. Can you?

Michael: I guess not. Look I don’t feel well. I’m very tired.

Janet: You can’t sleep in there.

Michael: Why not?

Janet: Fred is in there.

Paula: My son is sleeping on your bed in there.

Michael: Your son is sleeping on my bed in that closet. Why would he want to?

Paula: Why do you want to? I had to come over here and make sure everything was okay. Janet called me at five in the morning.

Michael: I see that.

Paula: Michael-

Michael: What?

Paula: I want to trust you. I do.

Michael: Uh huh.

Paula: Give me a reason.

Michael: How about you leave and let me take care of everything from now on? I have to use the restroom. Excuse me. (He exits towards the kitchen.)

Paula: Janet. Do you think I’m doing anything wrong? I don’t want to be doing anything wrong.

Janet: No. I think that Michael is being strange.

Paula: I do too. (looks at Janet) Puzzling.

Janet: Are you hungry?

Paula: A little.

Janet: Let me go see if I can get you something to eat.

Paula: No, you don’t need to.

Janet: You stayed with me all night.

Paula: I’d eat a little fruit if you had some. An apple or anything if you’ve got it.

Janet: Let me look. (She exits towards the kitchen.)

Paula sits down again and rubs her eyes and looks at the ceiling.

Paula: (calling) Frederick! Get up. We have to be going.

Fred: (slight pause, from closet) Awww. Mom. I’m tired.

Paula: Get over it. We’re all tired. You are going to go to school today.

Fred: I don’t want to!

Paula: Come out here. Come out here. Now.

Frederick comes out of the closet in his pajamas.

Fred: What?

Paula: Come sit by me.

Fred: I don’t want to.

Paula: Why, I’m your mother.

Fred: You smell.

Paula: I do not. Come over here.

Fred: Yes, you do. In the morning. You always smell. Too much perfume.

Paula: Frederick, now. I’m not even wearing perfume.

Fred: What?

Paula: When you come home from school today. . .I want you to walk over with your friend, Jimmy.

Fred: Why?

Paula: Because a not a very nice man moved into our neighborhood and I don’t want him to see you alone, because he could kidnap you.

Fred: Really?

Paula: Yes, really.

Fred: Cool.

Paula: No! No! Not cool. He’ll hurt you.

Fred: Oh.

Janet re-enters with an orange and the paper bag Michael had.

Paula: We’re just about to go, Janet. Come give me a hug.

Fred: Right. You think my mom smells sometimes.

Paula: Fred.

Janet: What do you mean? She never smells bad.

Paula: Thank you, Janet.

Fred: No. No. Not bad. Well except for this morning.

Paula: We are going now.

Janet: Oh, this is for you.

Paula: Oh, I’m too worked up now. I’ll save it for later. Thanks, Janet.

Paula puts the orange in her purse.

Janet: Look what Michael brought home.

She unveils the golden Goode’s chocolate bar from the bag just as Michael re-enters.

Paula: It says Goode’s-

Michael: Janet! That’s mine. Excuse me. Don’t look at that.

Paula: Michael, where did you get it?

Michael: Nevermind.

He re-conceals the bar.

Paula: I’m sorry.

Silence

Paula: Janet, do you want me to phone Carol and tell her that you won’t be in today?

Janet: Why? I am already to go.

Paula: I just thought that if you were too tired-

Janet: No. I have to go. Today is the busiest day.

Fred: Why don’t you phone in for me? Today isn’t the busiest day for me!

Paula: Quiet, Frederick.

Michael: Sorry. I snapped, but this thing is an heirloom and it’s worth a lot.

Paula: That’s okay. Do you mind if ask where you got it?

Michael: It has been in my family for awhile. My dad used to work for the Goode company.

Paula: I see.

Fred: Come on, Mom. Stop talking.

Paula: But now you work for your dad too?

Michael: What?

Paula: That’s what you told me.

Fred: Shut up. God.

Paula: Don’t you ever tell me to shut up. Ever. Okay?

Fred: Fine. If we just go-

Paula: We’re going. We’re going. Christ.

Janet: Bye, Paula.

Michael: See you later, Paula.

Paula: Bye. (pause) Oh. Hey. Would you two like to come over for dessert tonight?

Michael: I-

Paula: Don’t make up an excuse, Michael. Whatever it is. Let’s make this happen. For the good of all of us.

Michael: I was going to say -I’d love to.

Paula: Good. Dessert it is.

Janet: I love dessert.

Michael: That means no more going over to Carol’s today.

Paula: What?

Michael: Carol has been having Janet come over-

Janet: Only once!

Michael: And do some extra work. . .for no pay.

Paula: Really? Hmmmm.

Janet: Paula. I did want to go over there the first time.

Paula: We can talk about this tonight, Janet. I hope you guys’ll come by around seven.

Michael: See you in twelve hours then, Paula. I need to get some sleep. Excuse me.

He goes into his room. Paula observes the mail.

Paula: This is from Yale?

Janet: Yes. Michael got it here.

Paula: Hmmm. Mind if I take a look?

Janet: No, that’s okay. Go ahead.

Paula: Let’s see what Yale has to say about Michael Sandera.

Fred: MOM! I’m sick of standing here.

Paula: I can give this back tonight, can’t I?

Janet: Gee, I don’t know.

Paula: It’ll be fine. (She slips the letter into her purse.)

Janet: Okay.

Paula: See you tonight at my house –for a dessert that you won’t forget.

Janet: Yummy! Bye.

Paula: Bye, Janet.

27: Weaving a Web.

Janet in the living room. The newly framed Cornucopia puzzle has been hung. Janet stares at it. She picks up the phone and slowly dials. Meanwhile, Paula is at home. The telephone rings and she is slow to waken. Then on the third or fourth ring, she looks at the caller ID and grabs the phone immediately.

Paula: What is it?

Janet: Hi, Paula.

Paula: Why are you calling so late. What is it? It’s nearly five am.

Janet: I’m just looking at my puzzle.

Paula: Okay, but you do know that it’s inappropriate to call me at this hour. Isn’t it?

Janet: Sort of.

Paula: What’s the matter?

Janet: Not much.

Paula: Janet, I’m very tired. I have a busy day ahead of me now. Did your father stop by there? Your mother told me he was going to when I called to make sure if he checked up on you.

Janet: I know you are a busy body.

Paula: What? What are you saying.

Janet: I know you are a busy body, but you don’t need to busy yourself with me. I’m fine.

Paula: So your father was there? And I am most certainly not a busy body. Do you know what that means?

Janet: Yes, he came here and left.

Paula: Are you fine? Why are you calling me this late? To yell at me?

Janet: No.

Paula: Where’s Michael? Is he home?

Janet: No.

Paula: He’s not. Huh.

Janet: Yes, I’m very worried.

Paula: Is that why you’re calling me?

Janet: Yes.

Paula: I’ll be right over.
Janet: Okay. Good.

Paula: Keep watching the puzzle.

26: Fruitful Plans

Toby’s bedroom in their old apartment. The lights are low. Toby and Michael are in bed. Toby has a joint and lies on his back. Michael is sitting against the headboard staring. An empty 1.75 liter of Phillips Vodka rests on top of the sheets.

Michael: You know what’d be really great?

Toby: What?

Michael: I left some Vodka at Janet’s house. Her father just about had a cow when he saw it. I wish we had it now.

Toby: Bro. This is all we need. Trust me.

Michael: Yeah. I don’t know Toby. I am not sure.

Toby: Of what?

Michael: This Janet thing. How did we ever-

Toby: Listen.

Michael: No, you listen to me.

Toby: Stop. Stop right now. If you fucking say another word, I’ll bite your fucking face off.

Michael: I am not allowed to speak?

Toby: No. Not now. I want to tell you a story. Okay? Remember. Once upon a time there was an alley. In this alley was grime, dirt, garbages, and the remnants of a man. The rain was coming down.

The sound of rain.

Toby: And the man was soaked. He was trying to start a fire, under a tent he had made out of newspapers. The wind was cold. Autumn I think.

Rustling newspapers and Wind sound.

Toby: There was a stick in the middle of it. He was eating a porkchop that was three days expired, raw and half maggot eaten from the dumpsters around the corner from the co-op near there. He had blood in the corners of his mouth and a tin can to collect water to drink. He had bags under his eyes and his ribs poked through. And nobody knew he was a prince. Well, they knew but they didn’t care.

Thunder. Lightning.

Toby: Because any big city with its thugs, children, and crazy, corrupt professionals knows that if you stop to help somebody you’ll get pulled in the undertow of the sewer. But I’ve got news for you, buddy, get this, newsflash, this just in: We’re the undertow. You know this. I know this. From the day I saw you in your shithole tent. From the day we squatted here. Til we secured a place in this fucking building. We’ve had blood in the corners of our mouths now and for way, way too long. This is our goal, Asshole. This is our dream.

Toby grabs Michael and fucking kisses him hard on the mouth. They roll over a few times. Michael rolls onto the bottle of vodka and works hard to get it out from under him.
They balance the joint in each other’s hands so as not to lose it or waste it. Michael grabs the bottle, throws it, and it smashes it onto the wall. The smashing is a knell.

Michael: Fuck.

Toby: What?

Michael: What the hell are we doing?

Toby: I don’t get you.

Michael: I don’t understand you. Maybe that’s why I love you.

Toby: Don’t say that to me.

Michael: I can’t help it.

Toby: Fucking stop. What are you going on about. Say it. Say it.

Michael: I can’t do this anymore. No more.

Toby: But Michael. I want to see you.

Michael: Oh, so whatever the Prince of the Sewers wants goes? What the hell. I have my father’s mind Toby. I can erect an empire if I want to, but you are from the gutter. Face it.

Toby rolls on top of Michael and holds down his arms. Tears well up in his eyes.

Toby: You fucking asshole.

He spits in Michael’s face.

Toby: Don’t you ever say anything like that to me again, you got me?

Michael: If you want this to happen. We have to be careful. It’s delicate. Like this. (He references the joint.) We can’t be seen together. Ever. You have to disappear from my life completely until its done. I’m gonna start work soon. I have to be working. I can’t be doing the drugs. I can’t be doing the late nights. How am I going to explain this to Janet?

Toby: Don’t.

Michael: She’s special, not deaf, dumb, and blind. She already knows something’s up.

Toby: Don’t worry about her. She’s a retard.

Michael: You have to stop using that word.

Toby: If you stop seeing me, you’ll forget me. I know it.

Michael: That’s not true.

Toby: Yes it is. The magic won’t be there. No more this. (He references the dwindling joint.)

Michael: I think about you every second of every day.

Toby: Fuck you, you faggot. Well this can’t last forever. Cause I’m smoking it all.

Michael: You wanna be good at this. You have to be rough. But you have to have some finesse too.

Toby: Yeah, yeah. I got some extra cash from that Wanda bitch.

Michael: Yeah, what for?

Toby: I got her some stuff. I’m gonna get another shipment in.

Michael: So?

Toby: You should come over and party tomorrow. We’ll be living fat.

Michael: You don’t know how much I want to, but it’s more than just Janet, Toby.

Toby: What is it?

Michael: It’s her father and it’s Paula, her fucking case worker.

Toby: So we-

Michael: We can’t do that to everyone. Are you crazy? You are gonna get yourself arrested.

Toby: So what? I’ve done time before.

Michael: Stick with me and we’ll make it through.

Toby: How did we ever come up with this idea?

Michael: On a night like this. When you were looking fucking sexy.

Toby: Shut the fuck up. Give me a blow job.

Michael: (offering) How about an orange?

Toby: (throwing it) Too sweet. It’s for fruits anyway.

Michael: Don’t. I’ll eat it later.

Michael gets out of bed and picks up the orange.

Michael: I’m putting this in the fridge.

Toby: There you go. You fruit.

25: A Confirmation and a Consolation

Late evening at the Executive Offices of the Goode Candy Company. Alfred sits and talks with Bill Meriwether, an attractive man with thick hair and olive skin. Cindy is in the adjacent office filing her nails.

Cindy: (using the office buzzer) How you doing, Freddie, honey?

Alfred: Fine.

Cindy: Okay. When you gonna be done?

Alfred: I don’t know.

Bill: She’s right. You don’t look well.

Alfred: Forget about me. Anyhow were you able to obtain anything or?

Bill: No. I wasn’t.

Alfred: You have to try harder. Do we have to send more drones or what?

Bill: Drones? You make this sound like a science fiction movie.

Alfred: I don’t know what it is you do, but you need to do it faster. This company is going under. Don’t you get that?

Bill: Yes, yes, I do. Would you like to know about your son?

Alfred: No. I told you. I don’t care about that.

Bill: Well, I’ve got a full file on him. I completed all that you asked me too.

Alfred: Fine. (pause) Is he doing okay?

Bill: He’s-

Alfred: Is he? I asked you is he?

Bill: Yes. I would say so. But-

Alfred: But what?

Bill: Nothing. It is getting late, Alfred. Maybe you’d like to go home now?

Alfred: I hate my home, Bill. I hate it. I can’t go back there anymore.

Bill: What are you talking about?

Alfred: I don’t even know.

Bill: Are you not going back?

Alfred: I don’t want to.

Bill: Who is she this time?

Alfred: What are you saying?

Bill: This isn’t anything new. I’ve known you for a long time.

Alfred: Yeah, so what?

Bill: Alfred. . .and his women.

Alfred: Listen. Shut the hell up. I don’t want to hear you utter another word about it.

Bill: Fine. God I’m starving.

Alfred: You want an orange?

Bill: Can’t stand em.

Alfred: Go ahead eat it. My wife packed it. My wife. Ha.

Bill: Have you fallen out of love with her?

Alfred: I don’t know if I ever loved her.

Bill: No, no orange thank you. Maybe get a divorce?

Alfred: I can’t. I somehow can’t.

Bill: Why?

Alfred: Seems beneath me.

Bill: Divorce is beneath no one these days. Everyone’s doing it.

Alfred: No. Nothing has ever worked in my life. My first marriage. My company. My son. My daughter. And now my wife. . .

Bill: I see. Alfred, you do realize that I’m not a licensed therapist.

Alfred: Is that what you think I need?

Bill: I don’t know.

Alfred: Oh.

Cindy: (coming to the door) Hey I thought we were locked.

Alfred: We are.

Cindy: Someone’s coming up in the elevator. The numbers are lighting up. I’m sort of scared. Can I come sit with you gentlemen?

Alfred: Be my guest.

Bill: What are you doing here? The work day is done.

Cindy: I was finishing up some extra work from the day.

Bill: Such dedication. I’d love to have a secretary like you-

Alfred: I bet you would.

Bill: But then I’d have to kill her.

Alfred and Bill laugh. Cindy looks uneasy.

Cindy: Are you two friends or?

Alfred: Bill works for the company, but it’s sort of under the table.

Cindy: What do you do?

The elevator dings. The three watch the closed office door intently. There is a knock.

Alfred: Who is it?

Michael: (off) Me old man.

Alfred: It’s Michael. Come in.

Michael enters with Toby in tow. Their eyes are bloodshot and they are both stumbling.

Bill: So this is the boy whose going to-

Alfred: Not now, Bill. Not now.

Michael grabs Bill’s collar.

Michael: Who the fuck are you?

Cindy shrieks.

Alfred: Michael. Michael. Calm down.

Michael: So you did it after all?

Alfred: I try to please my family.

Michael: Bull-shit, you do. You killed our fucking mother.

Alfred: Silence, boy.

Toby: (jumping over the desk) Look mother fucker. (forces Alfred to sit) Sit your ass down.

Alfred: Who are you?

Cindy: Just leave. Please. We don’t want any trouble.

Michael: How did you do it? How?

Alfred: I don’t know what you’re talking about.

Michael: Michael fucking Sandera? What the fuck.

Bill: Let go of Mr. Andreas, Toby. Now.

Toby: Who the hell are you, Bitch. How do you know my name?

Bill: Nevermind.

Toby: What the fuck, Michael. What the fuck.

Michael: Yeah, what the fuck are you going on about?

Cindy: Please just leave.

Toby: Sit down, before I make you sit down.

Cindy sits.

Michael: I want to know who this is. I’ve never seen him before.

Bill: I’ve worked for this company your whole life, Michael. I’m Bill Meriwether.

Michael: (becoming a small boy) Mr. Meriwether? You look so different.

Bill: People grow up, Michael. (pause) Some don’t.

Toby: Fuck you.

Michael: Toby, stop it. Now I know how this happened. You did it didn’t you?

Bill: Did what?

Michael: What I think you did. Got me accepted.

Bill: Maybe.

Michael: You said you weren’t going to.

Alfred: Well, your father still has a soft spot, I guess. Now get out of my office. I told you I don’t want to see you again.

Michael: I’m gonna have to get my name changed to Sandera, you know.

Bill: Why are you doing this Michael? Why this grand charade?

Michael: What are you talking about?

Alfred: I don’t want to know, Bill. Don’t talk about it with him.

Michael: None of your fucking business.

Bill: That’s your problem, Alfred. You never ever address anything. You always are in the shadows. Don’t you see?

Alfred: How did you get in here? The buildings locked.

Toby: We busted up the front door.

Alfred: Bill, could you go take care of the security tape?

Bill gets up and exits.

Alfred: Listen to me, Michael. I’m not covering for you anymore. You have failed me so many times. I don’t want to see another time or the likes of you ever again.

Michael: I don’t fucking care. You asshole.

Alfred: Then why did you come here?

Michael: Then why did you do it for me?

Silence

Alfred: It’s a father’s responsibility to look after his children. Even if he hates them.

Toby: You don’t have to listen to this. Let me-

Michael: Toby. . .shhh. I know why you did it. I’ll take that as an understanding.

Alfred: Just keep in mind. I know what goes on in this town. This town is mine. I have a hold on whatever you can or will do. Don’t forget it.

Michael: Forget that idea, Dad. I’m all grown up now.

Alfred: Then no more favors from me.

Michael: Good.

Alfred: What are you on?

Michael: Nothing.

Alfred: How is Ms. Windhover?

Toby: He knows?

Alfred: I know everything, Mr. Toby. If I make it my business to know it.

Michael: How do you know about Janet? Nevermind. Clara. You heard from Clara, didn’t you?

Alfred: Maybe.

Michael: Look. I just came here for some confirmation. I’ve got it. Now stay out of my life.

Bill: (re-entering) It’s all taken care of. Nobody’ll know that you smashed in the plate glass window. I also reset the alarms.

Cindy: He has blood coming through his pants!

Bill: Are you hurt?

Toby: I’m fine. Get off my back.

Michael: Let’s go, Toby.

Toby: I don’t like this. This fucking sucks.

Alfred: Michael.

Michael: What?

Alfred: I want to give you something.

Michael: Why?

Alfred: You are my son.

Silence.

Toby: Yeah, who cares.

A golden chocolate bar comes out of the desk. Alfred holds it. Engraved in the chocolate is the Goode’s Candy company logo.

Michael: Your golden bar?

Alfred: Yes. I’m old. I don’t want to see you again, but I want you to take this and do what you want with it.

Toby: Looks like its worth a lot of money.

Michael: It is.

Alfred: I just want you to remember the family. The good times.

Michael: I was very little then.

Alfred: I know. Here I’ll put it in this bag.

Michael: Dad, are you okay?

Cindy: (near hysterics) He’s fine. He’ll be okay. You should go.

Toby: Quiet you. We’ll go when we’re ready.

Alfred: Don’t you talk like that to her.

Toby: Don’t tell me, what to do.

Michael: Toby- please.

Alfred hands the brown paper sack with the miniature gold bar in it to Michael.

Alfred: I could never give you anything, Michael. I can’t give you the company, but I can at least give you this.

Michael: Thank you. (looking in the bag) An orange?

Alfred: A snack to have later.

Bill: You two better go.

Michael: Yeah, we better go, Tobes.

Alfred: Good bye, Michael.

Michael: Come on Toby.

Michael and Toby exit. The door closes. The elevator dings. They are gone.

Cindy: Oh, Alfred. . .what’s going on?

Alfred: A story that would take years to explain.

Cindy: Oh, I can’t stop shaking.

Bill: So what do you want me to do about Michael?

Alfred: Stop. Stop whatever. It’s done. I don’t want nor do I need to know anything more about my son.

Bill: I know, but I’m so curious.

Alfred: Curiosity killed the cat, Bill. You’re done.

Bill: He looks messed up.

Alfred: Drugs no doubt.

Bill: That’s what I thought. You still love him. I see it in your eyes.

Alfred: Cindy, I’ll walk you to your car. We’ve all had a scare tonight. Bill, enough.

Bill: Fine.

On the street below. Michael and Toby walk.

Michael: I can’t go home like this.

Toby: Then don’t go home.

Michael: Where am I going to go?

Toby: (extending arms) Where you always go, bro? Come to papa!

Michael: I don’t think I should.

Toby: I do.

Michael: You always do. Why should I?

Toby: I have more booze. And a big bed.

Michael: Sold to the highest bidder. Me.

Toby: What the fuck. A golden chocolate bar? What is your dad, Willy Wonka?

Michael: Yeah. I guess he is.

Toby: Looks worth a lot.

Michael: It is. Get that out of your head though. It’s mine. Here have this orange.

Toby: A fucking orange?

Michael: Eat it for a snack. Shut up.

Toby: Later. Let’s go get fucked up.

24: Pinocchio(s) Know(s)

Janet’s empty apartment. Janet enters. She comes in and sits on the couch exhausted. She turns on Pinocchio again. The movie plays for awhile and Michael comes in behind her with some bags. Janet screams.

Michael: It’s just me!

Janet: You scared me.

Michael: Why?

Janet: How did you get in here?

Michael: Oh. Since I’m living here, I made myself some keys. Is that okay?

Janet: I guess so. Want to watch the movie with me?

Michael: No. I’ve seen that movie so many times.

Janet: Me too. I love this movie.

Michael: I know.

Janet: Did you get my frame?

Michael: Yes. Yes. I did. I even measured your puzzle so it’ll be the right size.

Janet: Did you get my ring?

Michael: What?

Janet: Did you get me a ring?

Michael: What are you talking about?

Janet holds up her hand.

Michael: No. No. I didn’t.

Janet: Oh. I see.

Michael: (sitting beside her, looking down) Janet. I’m sorry.

Janet: Why are you sorry?

Michael: I am very poor. I- I-

Janet: I know. Don’t worry about it. Love is all that matters –that’s what one of the magazines says. You can sit closer if you want.

Michael: I have things to do, Janet. I can’t waste the day away.

Janet: I understand.

Michael: How was the library?

Janet: Good. Paula was on the phone with my father most of the time.

Michael: Really? What were they talking about?

Janet: You.

Michael: Really? What were they saying?

Janet: Oh, you know. Things and stuff.

Michael: Janet, listen to me. Do you know what they were saying?

Janet: Ouch. That hurts.

Michael: I’m sorry. I just really want to know. I want to make a good impression on them.

Janet: Paula wanted to know your last name.

Michael: I see. Oh the mail is here already?

Janet: Yeah. It comes very early. I brought it up before I went to the library.

Michael: Michael Sandera? Who’s Michael Sandera?

Janet: Isn’t that you silly?

Michael: I know. I’m just teasing.

He opens the small package.

Michael: Dear Michael, this is to inform you of your acceptance to- My God.

Janet: What is it?

Michael: Oh. Just some Yale papers -I have to fill out. Must have forgotten to fill out.

Janet: Oh, speaking of papers, I have these for you to sign.

Michael: What is it?

Janet: They are about my apartment lease and since you will be living here.

Michael: Do we need to put me on the lease? Is that necessary?

Janet: I don’t know. Paula said so. She got these papers from the landlord.

Michael: She’s such a busy body, Janet, I don’t know if she’s good for you.

Janet: Yes, Paula is very busy. She does a lot of stuff for a lot of people. She’s very nice.

Michael: Yeah, very nice. Wow. Ummm. I’m gonna have to go to work today. So. . .uh. . .I will be leaving in a little bit.

Janet: When?

Michael: In not so long of time. I just have to get ready.

Janet: You always leave.

Michael: Yeah. I know. I have to though. Just like you have to go work for Carol on the weekdays.

Janet: Yeah, now she wants me to come to her house after work.

Michael: She does?

Janet: Yeah. One of her farm boys grabbed me.

Michael: He did?

Janet: Yeah. He held my eyes and made me guess his name.

Michael: Oh. Does she pay you? What work are you doing at her house?

Janet: Well on the way there she told me I’d be washing fruit. But then she made me peel potatoes. I didn’t like it at all.

Michael: Does she pay you?

Janet: No. She didn’t give me any money for that.

Michael: Did you like going over there?

Janet: Not really.

Michael: Then don’t go again.

Janet: My eye really hurts today.

Michael: It doesn’t look that bad. It looks like its healing. It probably means it’s healing.

Janet: Your face looks better.

Michael: Thanks. I’m surprised I got any mail here at all. I didn’t fill out a change of address form.

Janet: What’s that?

Michael: When you move, you give the post office a change of address form so your mail from your old house can come to your new house. . .

Janet: You didn’t do that, but you changed your phone number to mine?

Michael: Yes.

Janet: Why?

Silence

Janet: Seems like you would do it all together.

Michael: Seems that way.

Janet: Michael, tell me about yourself.

Michael: What do you want to know?

Janet: Everything.

Michael: Ha ha. That’s a lot of stuff, Janet.

Janet: But we have time. Marriage is till death do us part.

Michael: Where did you hear that?

Janet: Paula told me.

Michael: Sometimes, I’m afraid, Janet, Paula is wrong.

Janet: Really?

Michael: Yeah.

Janet: But that’s what the magazine said. In fancy letters. Till death do us part. It was a wedding magazine.

Michael: Yeah. It is till Death, Janet. But then I assure you, it’s over.

Janet: Oh. What happens then?

Michael: Nobody knows.

Janet: Nobody?

Michael: Nope.

Janet: Strange.

Michael: Life is a mystery. I have to get ready for work.

Janet: Okay. I suppose that’s why Pinocchio can’t figure out how to become real.

Michael: That’s part of it.

Janet: But he does. He does become real. So people are able to figure out the mysteries of life?

Michael: Only in fiction.

Janet: What’s fiction?

Michael: Something not real.

Janet: So television is not real? It’s that word you just said.

Michael: Yes. You never knew that?

Janet: I am not sure.

Michael: Oh.

The telephone rings. Janet gets up to answer it.

Janet: Hello? Sure. Sure. Okay. (She hits a number on the phone.)

Michael: Who is it?

Janet: My father.

Michael: I’m not here. I’m at work okay?

Janet: What?

Michael: Just please. Don’t say anything. Don’t let him find me.

Janet: Okay. Why?

Michael: Just shhh! Please. Don’t say anything to your father. Can you do that?

Janet: Till death do us part.

Michael: Good. (He exits to his bedroom door, Camden enters, Janet stares after Michael.)

Camden: Hello, my dear.

Janet: Hi.

Camden: What are you looking at?

Janet: Nothing. I’m just thinking.

Camden: Oh. Is Michael here? I want to talk to him.

Janet: No. No he’s not.

Camden: Well, where is the boy?

Janet: He’s out. He had to work.

Camden: I see. Janet, is he living here?

Janet: No.

Camden: That’s not what Paula said.

Janet: Maybe Paula lies.

Camden: Maybe you lie. Are you telling me the truth? What are all these bags? (He looks into them.)

Janet: That’s a frame that Michael bought me.

Camden: I see.

Janet: Yeah. You see.

Camden: Janet, why is there a 1.75 oz bottle of Vodka in here?

Janet: I don’t know.

Camden: You don’t know? You can’t have liquor in your apartment! You know that. Do you want to lose the subsidy?

Janet: Paula says I’m going to lose it. Ummm.

Camden: Ummm, what?

Janet: Nothing.

Camden: I want an explanation, Missy.

Janet: Paula said that they were changing it up anyway.

Camden: Well I will have to speak to her about it. I just came by to make sure everything is taken care of.

Janet: Okay.

Camden: So have you and Michael discussed any wedding plans?

Janet: No.

Camden: I see.

Janet: You see.

Camden: Don’t repeat everything I say!

Janet: Sorry.

Camden: When do you think that is going to happen?

Janet: What? What happened?

Camden: When do you and Michael think that you’re going to discuss these plans for marriage?

Janet: I don’t know.

Camden: I see. This is getting out of hand, Janet. I don’t think I trust this boy.

Janet: Why not?

Camden: He doesn’t operate like a real boyfriend.

Janet: He is a real boyfriend, Dad.

Camden: Okay. Well tell him that I called Yale this afternoon and- Did you hear that?

Janet: Did you hear what?

Camden: That. From in there?

Janet: From where?

Camden: I don’t know. That door. It sounds like someone is in that closet.

Janet: Oh that’s just Michael’s cat.

Camden: Michael has a cat?

Janet: Yeah.

The telephone rings.

Camden: I can answer it.

Janet: Dad, it’s my phone. I’m supposed to be living on my own.

Camden: Suit yourself.

Janet: (staring at her father) Yeah. Uh huh. Sure. (She hangs up.) The cat’s litter box is in there. You wouldn’t want to go in.

Camden: I’m not even sure if you are supposed to have pets in here. Of all the cock-a-maimy- Oh I love this movie.

Janet: Me too. I love Pinocchio. I want to be just like him.

Camden: What. A liar?

Janet: That’s mean, Dad. I am not a liar.

Camden: I didn’t mean it harshly, dear. Anyway I must be going, everything looks fine here. Tonight your mother and I have the surgeon’s ball. So I will be out all evening. But Michael and you should pick a time when all of us can have dinner again. Wouldn’t that be – be- just right?

Janet: Yes.

Camden: Fine. But get that liquor out of here. And don’t let Paula see it. . .my phone will be ringing off the hook otherwise. Come give your father a kiss.

Janet: Bye, Dad.

Camden: Good evening.

Janet: See you.

Camden: (to the cat in the closet) Bye. Bye Kitty. Whatever you are doing here. (to Janet) You should get the cat out too. Soon.

Janet: I will. Michael’s gonna pick him up later. Dad?

Camden: What is it?

Janet: What were you going to say I should tell Michael?

Camden: I called Yale today and gave him a good recommendation.

Janet: Oh that was nice of you. Don’t you think?

Camden: Yes. Very nice of me. Now I must be going.

Janet: Okay.

Camden: Have a good evening. Take a bath. Watch your movie. Bye.

Janet: Bye. (She closes the door after him after he exits. Michael opens the closet door.)

Michael: You are amazing.

Janet: I am?

Michael: You are smarter than you look!

Janet: I am?

Michael: You are my perfect Pinocchio! (He lifts her up and swirls her around. Janet laughs.)

Janet: Except my nose doesn’t grow like him!

Michael: Not yet. Because you are real. So real.

Janet comes down in Michael’s arms. Their gazes are locked together. She kisses him hard. It is awkward.

Janet: Michael, what’s wrong?

Michael: (turning away) Nothing.

Janet: Why did you try to hide from my dad?

Micheal: (turning back) To tell you the truth-

Janet: What?

Michael: Promise not to laugh at me?

Janet: I promise. What is it?

Michael: I afraid of your father.

Janet: He can be kind of scary. But he won’t hurt you.

Michael: I know. Why did you tell your father that I didn’t live here? I didn’t say you couldn’t say that.

Janet: I think he would be angry. I guess I’m scared of him too.

Michael: Good thing I had my cell phone.

Janet: Yeah, good thing.

Michael: That was a close one.

Janet: I know.

Michael: I could feel that you needed some sort of answer.

Janet: I did. I didn’t know what to tell him.

Michael: We think alike Janet.

Janet: We do.

Michael: We sure do.

Janet: We are one. WE will be one. Isn’t that what marriage is?

Michael: Yeah. Yeah.

Janet: That’s what those magazines say.

Michael: Those magazines scare me. I have to go to work now, Janet. I’ll be home later. You don’t have to wait up.

Janet: Okay. I’ll miss you.

Silence.

23: One Blood Orange

Clara cooks brunch in the Andreas family home. Judy comes in with trench coat and sunglasses. Both are pale as ghosts. Judy has a small paper sack with her.

Clara: So many things to plug in and unplug around here.

Judy: Yeah. Get used to it.

Clara: Where were you this morning?

Judy: I’m going to be making Alfie’s lunches. You can do breakfasts, but I am going to start packing him lunches.

Clara: Is that wise? After last night?

Judy: Just because I had one accident with a roast, doesn’t mean-

Clara: We both got food poisoning, Ms. Judy. That’s the only thing I can think-

Judy: We did not.

Clara: Why did you insist that we eat the burnt half?

Judy: It wasn’t burnt.

Clara: Well maybe you shouldn’t wear those sunglasses in the house, you’ll see better that way.

Judy: Look Clara. Look at me. (removes glasses) I am Mr. Andreas’ wife. I will remain so for quite sometime. You have to respect me.

Clara: I don’t respect no one who gives me food poisoning. I still am sick this morning.

Judy: I only threw up once.

Clara: Yeah, but you are probably used to it.

Judy: What was that?

Clara: Nothing. What have you got there?

Judy: Oh just some things to pack in Alfie’s lunch.

Clara: Fine.

Kitty enters.

Clara: Oh, Senorita Kitty. I have something for you.

Judy begins to get things ready for Alfred’s lunch.

Kitty: You do? What is it? What?

Clara: It’s an orange. Very juicy. For your snack.

Judy: (turning) Where did you get that?

Clara: From you. You know that.

Judy: That was for you.

Clara: I know. I know. But Mr. Alfie asked me to give Kitty a snack around 10.

Judy: I don’t think so.

Clara: That’s what he said.

Judy: But he hasn’t seen her the way I have. Too much sugar is a bad thing for Kitty isn’t it?

Kitty: I don’t know.

Judy: I do.

Clara: It’s just fruit, Ms. Judy.

Judy: It’s just fruit. It’s just fruit. No, it’s a peel away from being a temper tantrum once all that sugar gets in her blood. I have seen it.

Clara: Whatever you say, Ms. Judy.

Kitty: So I don’t get the orange?

Judy: No. I’m afraid not. I’m going to use it in your daddy’s lunch.

Alfred enters.

Alfred: I really don’t like oranges though.

Judy: But they’re good for you.

Alfred: Morning, Clara. Morning, Kitty.

Clara: Exactly. That’s why Kitty should have it.

Alfred: Just what are you doing, anyway Judy?

Judy: I’m packing you a lunch.

Alfred: Oh. Clara it is nice to have you back.

Clara: I’m afraid I was too late though.

Alfred: What do you mean?

Judy: I cooked a roast for dinner last night. You wouldn’t know. I don’t know what time you came home around, but I gave us food poisoning.

Clara: So sorry if I feel a little under the weather today.

Alfred: We’re just glad to have you back, aren’t we, Judy?

Judy: Yes. So very glad.

Kitty: What is sugar?

Clara: Excuse me, I don’t feel well.

Judy: You’re excused.

Alfred sits at the kitchen table as Clara exits. Kitty sits and talks with him. Meanwhile, Judy has emptied the contents of her paper sack –another small, yet full jar- near the spice rack with her back to Alfred and Kitty.

Alfred: Do you know what we’re having today?

Kitty: No. I don’t.

Alfred: Smells like oatmeal.

Kitty: Yum. I love oatmeal.

Alfred: Kitty, would you go bring me the mail? It’s down by the front door.

Kitty: Sure, daddy. (She exits)

Judy: (bringing bowls to the table) Here we are. Oatmeal for all.

Clara: (entering) I don’t think I have anything left to keep down.

Judy: Clara, go take a rest.

Clara: I- I don’t think that Malt-o-meal was done cooking yet.

Judy: I’ve got it under control. Clara, I think you should take a load off.

Alfred: You do look under the weather you should go lay down.

Kitty: Here you go, Daddy. (She hands him the mail.)

Alfred: Thank you, Kitty.

Kitty: When’s Michael coming back?

Silence.

Judy: Never.

Alfred: Why do you ask that?

Kitty: I miss him. Never? For real, he’s never coming back?

Alfred: Mommy, doesn’t know that it’s not good to never say never.

Judy: Clara, go lay down, I’ll bring you some water soon.

Clara: I would like a glass of juice.

Judy: Even better. Have a nice rest.

Clara: Mr. Alfred, may I have the paper to read while I’m in bed?

Alfred: Go right ahead. (He gives her the daily paper.)

Clara exits as Alfred eats his Malt-o-meal and Judy watches.

Kitty: I hope he comes back soon. I want to show him my painting.

Alfred: He will. Hmmm. This tastes better than ever today.

Judy: Good.

Alfred: Do you need to stare at me while I eat? (He begins opening the mail.)

Judy: Sorry. (She gets up and goes into the food prep area.)

Kitty: Where is my painting?

Judy: In the garage, where it should be.

Alfred: Not where it should, but- what the hell?

Judy: What?

Alfred: You wrote out a check for 1,000 dollars and made it out to cash?

Judy: Yes. I made a contribution.

Alfred: To what?

Judy: I don’t want to tell you.

Alfred: You better tell me.

Judy: I don’t want to. It’s silly.

Alfred: Things are going to get a whole lot sillier if you don’t tell me what you spent a thousand dollars on.

Judy: I made it out to a homeless man.

Alfred: Excuse me, what?

Judy: I felt sorry for him.

Alfred: You felt sorry for him?

Judy: Yes.

Alfred: Judy Andreas. When have you ever felt sorry for anybody but yourself?

Silence

Kitty: What does that mean?

Alfred: Nothing.

Judy: I don’t know what to say. I have to go throw up, but here is your lunch on the counter. I don’t want to speak to you for the rest of the day, you have really really hurt my feelings.

Judy exits.

Alfred: Your mother is not very smart, Kitty.

Kitty: Is she like me?

Alfred: No. She’s worse.

Kitty: Can she get better?

Alfred: I don’t think so. It’s not like that.

The doorbell rings.

Alfred: Will you go get that, Kitty?

Kitty: Sure, Dad!

Kitty runs to the front door. She opens it. A blonde man about thirty years of age stands there. He is very attractive and well-dressed.

Kitty: Can I help you?

Charles: Sure. I’m new to the neighborhood. Can I come in?

Alfred: Who is it, Kitty?

Kitty: He says his name is new to the neighbors.

Charles: Oh that’s not my name.

Alfred: What is your name, young man?

Charles: My name is Charles. I’m new to the neighborhood. I just wanted to say Hello.

Alfred: Well, hello. Is there anything I can do for you?

Charles: Not really. I just came by –wanted to introduce myself.

Judy enters.

Judy: Oh, who’s this?

Alfred: This is Charles. He’s new. I have to go to work, could you speak with the man?

Judy: Sure.

Kitty: I thought you weren’t going to talk to him.

Judy: Shhh.

Alfred: What were you saying?

Charles: Oh, my name is Charles and I just moved in.

Alfred: Well, nice to meet you, Charles-

Charles: Ozgood.

Alfred: Ozgood. I have to run and get my things for work. Have a pleasant day. (He exits up the entryway stairs.)

Charles: You as well. Again nice to meet you.

Judy: (extending her hand and her gaze) Very nice to meet you, Mr. Ozgood. Is there anything I can do for you?

Charles: Oh, no. I just live around the corner. Getting used to the surroundings, I want to introduce myself and let everyone know that I am a friendly guy.

Judy: You seem very friendly. I’m sure you’ll get along nicely in this neighborhood.

Kitty: Yeah, as long as you don’t create trouble.

Judy: Kitty means as long as you play in your own yard. Kitty sometimes has trouble understanding that.

Kitty: Yeah. Whatever.

Charles: Is this your daughter?

Judy: Oh, no no no. Of course not. She’s the daughter of my husband, Alfred who you just met.

Charles: I see.

Judy: Well is there anything I can help you with?

Charles: Maybe, but for now, I just wanted to say that I was in the neighborhood.

Judy: What do you do, Mr. Ozgood?

Charles: I’m actually looking for work, right now.

Judy: What were you doing before that? Before you moved here?

Charles: Oh a few jobs. Nothing serious.

Alfred re-enters with briefcase and lunch.

Alfred: Well if you’ll excuse me.

Judy: Oh Alfred. . .I don’t mean to meddle.

Alfred: Then don’t.

Judy: But Alfie, dear, weren’t you looking for someone in your office. . .a new secretary?

Alfred: No. No I wasn’t.

Judy: Oh, I thought you were. I thought that’s why you were staying late at the office, because you had all that work to do that she didn’t do it for you during the day.

Alfred: No.

Judy: Then she does do it for you during the day.

Alfred: Judy.

Charles: Well thank you, Mrs.-

Judy: Mrs. Andreas. And this is Alfred and this is his daughter, Kitty.

Charles: Well, very nice to meet all of you.

Judy: Well Charles, I tried. I tried to get you a job, but it just looks as if Mr. Andreas’ secretary does it for him everyday.

Alfred: You did, dear. How admirable.

Judy: You should get going, Alfie. You’re bound to be late. But you don’t seem concerned about being late to places.

Alfred: Not when you own the company. (He laughs.)

Judy: Alfie owns Goode’s Candy Company.

Alfred: I do. Now I must be off- Oh.

Judy: What is it?

Charles: Are you alright, Mr. Andreas? You don’t look well.

Alfred: I just feel faint that’s all.

Charles: Maybe you need some water.

Judy: (immediately) No.

Charles: No?

Alfred: I’ll be fine. I just need to get out of this house. I just need to drive.

Judy: He’s such a kidder.

Alfred: I’m not joking.

Charles: Do you think it’s best to get behind a wheel when you feel faint?

Judy: Yeah, do you? Let me get you a glass of water.

Alfred: I’ll be fine. Let me go, Mr. Ozgood. Thank you for your concern. But I’m leaving now. Good bye.

Charles: Good-bye.

Judy: See you at dinner?

Alfred exits.

Charles: I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-

Judy: What didn’t you mean?

Charles: I’m not sure. I just felt awkward. I hope I was not offensive.

Judy: Oh, don’t worry about it. My husband is just very hard-headed.

Charles: Oh.

Clara appears at the top of the landing with paper in hand.

Judy: And this is our cook. Clara. She lives in with us.

Charles: Nice to meet you.

Clara: Uh huh.

Charles: I should be going.

Clara: Yes, you should.

Judy: Clara! Don’t be rude to our guest.

Clara: (walking away) Okay.

Judy: (extending her hand) Nice to meet you again, Mr. Ozgood. And don’t worry about my husband. He can be quite rude sometimes.

Kitty: You’re rude. My daddy is not rude.

Judy: Okay. Okay.

Charles: Well see you later. Bye.

Judy: (whispers to Charles) My husband is actually not quite with it. He’s sort of stupid. Don’t pay any attention to him. He’s getting older.

Kitty: You’re stupid. You ARE! You’re worse than RETARDED. My daddy said so.

Judy: Okay. Okay. Clara! Could you help me discipline the child? Oh foolish children.

Charles: Have a good day, Ms. Andreas. I hope to see you again.

Judy: You too.

Clara: (coming back) This was not in the job description, Ms. Judy.

Judy: Such a kidder.

Clara: Come with me into the kitchen, Kitty. I’ll find you a snack. Since you can’t eat oranges.

Judy: Nothing with sugar. Nothing. Bye, Charles. Until we meet again.

Charles: Until then. Good bye.

Charles exits. Judy goes up the entryway and down the corridor into the kitchen.

Judy: Kitty, don’t you ever yell when strangers are in our house, do you hear me?

Kitty: I don’t want to hear you.

Judy: I can’t argue with you, Kitty. I’m too tired. I have to lie down.

Judy exits.

Kitty: She called Daddy stupid, but he called her stupid. I think she’s stupid.

Clara: She is stupid. And I’m not going to tell her.

Clara throws away the newspaper which reads the headline: Sex Offender moves into local neighborhood.

22: A Sex Offender Moves Into the Neighborhood

The home of Mildred Pierce. Mid-afternoon. Wendy Pierce, her daughter, sits reading a romance novel: Hearts A Burning. The doorbell rings. Wendy is startled, puts the book down, and runs up the staircase. The doorbell rings again. Mildred enters. Her hair is in a tight bun, yet her face is worn with age. Her clothes are well-maintained, but her skirt has a tiny tear in it. She stops before she gets to the door and looks at the book that Wendy put down. She shakes her head in response and goes to the door. She breathes a sigh, tightens up and opens the door. Her friend Katherine is there.

Mildred: What do you want?

Katherine: Did you get your paper yet?

Mildred: No, why?

Katherine: Take a look.

Mildred: (reading) Charles Ozgood, has just moved into 2323 Pine Lane. Who is this? This Charles Ozgood.

Katherine: Keep reading.

Mildred: A convicted level 2 sex offender, (gasps) Charles Ozgood was released from prison. . .(stops) A sex offender is moving into the neighborhood!

Katherine: Yeah and they sent US the letter about it the same day.

Mildred: This is an outrage.

Wendy: (from upstairs) Mother, who is it?

Mildred: Wendy, it’s not okay to come down. There is a sex offender in the neighborhood.

Wendy: Oh God! (A door slams above.)

Mildred: My dear Katherine, what are we going to do about this?

Wendy: I don’t know what to do. Lock our doors. Get three locks.

Mildred: The real question is how can a sex offender afford to live . . . well, here. In this neighborhood?

Katherine: I have no idea, but you can trust me that me and the pinnacle girls are gonna go march on city hall for this.

Mildred: Count me in.

Katherine: Good. I wanted to get you on our side, Mildred.

Mildred: Always a pleasure to be a do-gooder.

Katherine: Don’t fret. We’ll get him out of here.

Mildred: I hope so.

Katherine: I gotta run though, I have a pie in the oven back home. I just wanted to pop over with a bit of this news.

Mildred: Thanks for popping in. I’ll call you later.

Katherine: Sure, the girls and I were thinking of instead of playing cards, that we get the guy out of here at this week’s pinnacle party. What do you think?

Mildred: Well we should at least come up with a plan for getting him out of here.

Katherine: We will.

Mildred: Can I ask you one more question?

Katherine: I don’t know can you?

Mildred: What makes him level 2?

Katherine: Convicted of sexual assault and rape. . .

Mildred: Oh dear.

Katherine: And here’s the bad part. . .with younger woman.

Mildred: Wendy! You are never coming down from there.

Wendy: (from up) I don’t want to!

Katherine: But I wouldn’t let your guard down, Mildred. I wouldn’t. I’m not going to. Just because I’m older doesn’t mean I’m immune to his –well- his perverted advances.

Mildred: Oh, I know.

Katherine: Those perverts will do it with anyone, wherever, whenever, nobody is safe until he’s gone or DEAD.

Mildred: Here. Here. Sister.

Katherine: But I’m sure burning my pie now. I gotta run, but remember, we’ll meet about this soon.

Mildred: Oh, I won’t forget. Lock your doors, dear.

Katherine: I will. Lock all your locks. . .(counting, then giving up) All of these here.

Mildred: I will. Good luck with your pie.

Katherine: Thanks, dear. Have a good afternoon.

Mildred: As good as I can with this news. See you. (She closes the door.) Wendy! Wendy!

Wendy: What?

Mildred: Come down here. We have to talk.

Wendy: I don’t want to.

Mildred: She left. Come down.

Wendy: Is it safe?

Mildred: For the time being.

Wendy: (appearing on the stairs like a lamb being stalked by wolves) Okay. (she starts to come down)

Mildred: Wendy, I don’t want you sitting on the porch reading that filth anymore. I don’t want you to go outside without my permission or unless you are being escorted by Paul.

Wendy: I don’t want to anyway.

Mildred: Good. Look at this.

Wendy: It says he moved in today!

Mildred: Yeah, apparently.

Wendy: Mother, I just want to read my book. Can we talk about this later? I don’t want to feel scared this afternoon.

Mildred: I don’t like you reading that filth. I won’t even call it a novel.

Wendy: Oh blah-

The doorbell.

Mildred: Get upstairs.

Wendy: What if it’s him?

Mildred: Exactly, so scoot your butt! Leave the book down here.

Wendy bolts up the stairs. Mildred fixes her hair in a mirror and then goes to the door. She opens it and Paul stands there.

Paul: Good Afternoon, Mrs. Pierce.

Mildred: Oh, hello, Paul. How are you this day?

Paul: I’m good. And yourself?

Mildred: Oh please come in so I can shut the door. Apparently there’s a sex offender moving into the neighborhood.

Paul: Really? Is that why Wendy’s upstairs?

Mildred: Partially. We didn’t know if you’d be him.

Paul: Well I haven’t been convicted yet. (He laughs alone.)

Mildred: That is nothing to joke about, Mr. Townsend.

Paul: Yeah. I’m sorry. Can I speak to Wendy?

Mildred: Yes. But you could you do it upstairs? It’s safer for Wendy to be in her room when there is a sex offender on the loose.

Paul: You’ll allow me to go into her room?

Mildred: No. No. I guess that wouldn’t be good either. Wendy! Wendy!

Wendy: Is it him? Is it?

Mildred: No, it’s your fiancée!

Wendy: (rushing) Oh Thank God.

Mildred: Wendy! I don’t want you to ever run down the stairs like that again.

Paul and Wendy hug.

Wendy: Sorry, mother.

Paul: Sorry, Mrs. Pierce.

Mildred: No need to be sorry.

Paul: Mrs. Pierce.

Mildred: Yes?

Paul: May I have your permission to be alone with Wendy to discuss something with her?

Mildred: Only if you stay down here in the living room and I’ll pull the curtains up . . .

Paul: Do you think that’s wise? Maybe that offender will see that Wendy lives here.

Mildred: True. I’ll give you five minutes. I’ll be in the kitchen. Call if you need me.

Paul: We will.

Mildred exits.

Wendy: Paul, what brings you over this afternoon?

Paul: I want to talk to you about seeing a marriage counselor.

Wendy: What?

Paul: I think it’s important for us.

Wendy: Why?

Paul: I don’t know if you were mentally present for what just happened, but I think you and your mother are over-reacting about this sex offender thing.

Wendy: Over-reacting?! Here’s the newspaper article! He moved in today!

Paul: So? He went to jail and was released on good behavior!

Wendy: So?

Paul: Anyway, Charles Ozgood is not why I came over here. I came over to discuss you. (seeing book) Hearts A Flame? Come on, Wendy.

Wendy: What?

Paul: Don’t you think that you are a bit . . . sheltered?

Wendy: No. Not at all.

Paul: You can’t even go outside by yourself.

Wendy: Yes, I can. I go on the porch all the time.

Paul: How old are you Wendy?

Wendy: Twenty-five.

Paul: And you have never lived on your own. Never gone anywhere substantial.

Wendy: I have to! We just went out to dinner.

Paul: We didn’t finish. We had to come back here.

Wendy: Are you trying to change me?

Paul: No. I’m just trying to tell you that there is more world out there to enjoy.

Wendy: I don’t want to enjoy it.

Paul: That is so anti-healthy, I can’t even begin to describe how anti-healthy that is.

Wendy: Paul. This is who I am.

Paul: Can you just try counseling with me?

Wendy: But the counselor will be there.

Paul: Yeah, so what?

Wendy: I don’t know what to say to her or him or whatever.

Paul: You just talk. Like you are talking to me. Like you talk to Janet. Like you talk to Mil- your mother.

Wendy: But those are easy. I trust you guys.

Paul: You have to start trusting other people if you want to lead a successful life.

Wendy: I think I do.

Paul: Lead a successful life?

Wendy: Yes.

Paul: I can’t lead this kind of life, Wendy. I can’t.

Wendy: Fine. Fine. . . I’ll try it.

Paul: Oh thank god.

The doorbell rings.

Wendy: I gotta go. (She bolts up the stairs. Mildred enters frantically)

Mildred: It’s him. I know it its him.

Paul: Yeah. Yeah. (He sits and picks up the book.)

Mildred: I’m trying to see out the window, but I can’t quite see. . .but it’s a boy. Oh God it’s a boy! (She rushes to the door and opens it.) Hello?

Boy: Hi. Have you accepted Jesus Christ into your life?

Mildred: Don’t you see. Don’t you see? There is a sex offender in this neighborhood. Go home. Lock your doors. Don’t stay out.

Boy: Are you serious?

Mildred: Yes. Go. Go. God be with you.

Boy: Oh no. (The boy goes running down the street.)

Mildred: Go the other way. The OTHER way. He lives down there! 2323 Pine Lane. Steer Clear of 2323 PINE LANE!

Paul: Oh Jesus.

Mildred: (shutting the door) What?

Paul: Oh, I don’t know. This hysteria. It’s too much.

Mildred: I know. Isn’t it? We’ve got to stay safe. We’ve got to protect ourselves from the crazies of this world!

Paul: Yes. Yes, we do.

21: Strong Recommendations

The next morning in the Windhover’s Master Bedroom. Camden lays in bed asleep; he wears a sleeping mask. Denise is folding laundry. She looks out the large picture window with the billowy translucent curtains. Sunshine.

Camden: Breakfast. Breakfast. Is it here yet?

Denise: Camden, Clara didn’t come in this morning.

Camden: She didn’t?

Denise: No.

Camden: Do you think that she quit?

Denise: What would you do if you were referred to as servant and talked down to 100 percent of the time?

Camden: I don’t know I’d like to think that I’d get on.

Denise: Of course you would. Hey, do you need this piece of paper?

Camden: What are they for?

Denise: Call Paula. Call back Mr. Andreas.

Camden: What did they want?

Denise: How am I supposed to know?

Camden: You have the paper.

Denise: I didn’t write this. I just found it in your pants.

Camden: Oh that must be the thing that cock-a-maimy nurse handed me.

Denise: She has bad handwriting. I could barely tell it said Paula.

Camden: She’s fine.

Denise: Well, you better call her right away, it could be an emergency.

Camden: With Paula, is anything not an emergency?

Denise: No.

Camden: Well, she didn’t call back yesterday, so she must have found Janet.

Denise: Well, sometimes Paula over-exaggerates, but let’s face it, she cares a lot more about Janet than we do.

Camden: That’s not true.

Denise: When she was able to get that place that the state pays for we were having a hell of a good time, Camden. Let’s face it. We’ve been bad parents.

Camden: We have not.

Denise: Yes, we have. Paula is the only real parent Janet ever had. Who took Janet on family vacations? Who took Janet to the national parks with their family? Paula. We never did anything like that. Who took Janet to her first amusement park ride, her first trip to the museum, who? Paula. We have never done a lot for Janet, because once we found out. . .let’s face it, we didn’t care.

Camden: That’s so harsh, Denise.

Denise: Well, I think in Janet it has produced something sinister.

Camden: Stop being a soap opera star, Denise. Janet is just fine. Paula didn’t call back because-

Denise: Because something happened to Paula. They both could be in trouble.

Camden: Calm down. Something didn’t happen to Paula.

Denise: Call her. Now.

Camden: Why didn’t she say what she wanted when she called about Janet’s disappearance?

Denise: I don’t know.

Camden: Maybe that is all she wanted to talk to me about.

Denise: And that message was taken in the afternoon which was even way, way before we first heard about Janet’s disappearance, if Janet has been missing for that long!!!

Camden: Fine. I’ll call to make sure everything is okay. Are you happy now, darling?

Denise: I’ll be happy when Clara returns.

Camden: I wonder if she will.

Paula and Janet enter the library. Paula is all ecstatic and Janet has a sea of wonder in her eyes. Paula takes Janet by the hand and they walk over into the magazine section. Paula leads Janet over into the wedding magazines. They start collecting the magazines and then they take them over to a table and sit down and begin to page through them.

Janet: I wish Michael was here.

Paula: Yeah.

Janet: I really do. You wouldn’t let him come if I asked if he could, would you?

Paula: What are you saying?

Janet: You wouldn’t want Michael to come here.

Paula: I didn’t say that.

Janet: Well after I asked if he could come along, you said: oh didn’t you say he had to go exchange that frame which was too small. . . how could he come along?

Paula: I said that.

Janet: So? It sounded mean.

Paula: I didn’t mean it meanly.

Janet: How did you mean it?

Paula: I meant it in a kind way. In a responsibilities first kind of way.

Janet: Oh.

Paula: You remember learning about your responsibilities in that unit that we did when you were in school.


Janet: Yes.

Paula: You know they are important.

Janet: Yes. I do.

Paula: Now let’s keep looking. These are what a wedding should be like.

Janet: How do you mean?

Paula: These magazines show the way weddings should be in their utmost fashionable. Like look at this Wedding Bride to Be book. It shows all of the latest fashions . . .

Janet: Do men look at these books?

Paula: No, I don’t think so.

Janet: If the men never see these types of engagement rings, how do they know what to get?

Paula: They know what to get. The women who read these give them ideas. Oh look at that. I see you don’t have a ring.

Janet: No. I guess I don’t.

Paula: Didn’t Michael get you an engagement ring?

Janet: No. He gave me a band-aid once.

Paula: Oh. Well does that count? Is that love? Wouldn’t you want one of these fashionable lovies. . .

Janet: No, I wouldn’t want Michael to have to spend (reading) 2,000 dollars on a wedding ring. I don’t think he has a lot of money.

Paula: No? He works for his father doing something.

Janet: He comes over dirty a lot.

Paula: Strange.

Janet: Yeah, I guess.

Paula: But what does that mean?

Janet: I’m not sure.

Paula: I’m sure you’ll figure it out. Just like those puzzles.

Janet: I do want an engagement ring.

Paula: You have to do things right. You have to get to the bottom of his behavior.

Janet: Yes, I do.

Paula: Exactly. Now you are special, so you should get the most expensive dress. Let’s turn to that. . .

Paula’s Cell phone rings. Several annoyed patrons “Shhhh!” Janet and Paula. Janet looks around scared.

Paula: It’s your dad. I should answer it. Excuse me.

Janet: I’ll just look at all these fashionable lovelys. All the rage while you are on the phone.

Paula: Camden, Paula here.

Camden: How do you do?

Paula gets up and enters the maze of rows of books every once in awhile she passes an annoyed patron or someone shhh’s her.

Paula: Cut the crap. Your daughter is marrying a lunatic.

Camden: What do you mean?

Paula: That boy is not right.

Camden: Is she all right?

Paula: She’s fine. We’re at the library right now.

Camden: What’s wrong with Michael whatsisname?

Paula: That’s just it, Cam, nobody knows his last name.

Camden: Oh. I thought I had heard it from somewhere.

Paula: No, and he evades saying it.

Camden: Strange. What else has he done?

Paula: Strange things. Weird things.

Camden: Like?

Paula: He accused me of Indian Giving.

Camden: What? How?

Paula: My son broke one of Janet’s frames and I gave her money to replace it. But Michael brought her another as a gift so I wanted the money back. I was to replace the frame but not to buy Janet a gift. Get me?

Camden: No, actually. You gave the money to Janet to send a token of your sorrow at your horrid little boy breaking her things.

Paula: Camden, we can argue, argue, argue all night, but that’s not going to end this quabble, I mean quibble, I mean squabble. Look you’ve got me all worked up now.

Camden: I think you may be over reacting.

Paula: You can’t think of anything strange about Michael? You know nothing about him.

Camden: I know he is a volunteer firefighter.

Paula: Exactly, that’s just it. I called his work to speak to him.

Camden: Odd. Why would you need to speak to him?

Paula: At first just to be nosey and see if he worked there, but then I called because I found an excuse in Janet’s paper work.

Camden: What excuse? What paperwork are you still doing for Janet?

Paula: Her house. Since Michael has moved in there.

Camden: Michael has moved in with Janet?

Paula: Of course.

Denise: What? Tell me you are kidding.

Paula: Her house isn’t going to be subsidized anymore.

Camden: That is why you should call me, not to bitch about this young buck.

Paula: Well that was the original reason I am calling, but as Janet’s friend, I thought you should know this other personal stuff too.

Camden: Yes, yes. Thank you, thank you.

Paula: Don’t you think that’s odd?

Camden: That I’m probably going to have to pay her rent now. Yes. That is very odd.

Paula: NO. The fact that Michael has moved in there. Has he gotten her an engagement ring? When is the wedding? There are no plans for a wedding. Do you see how this is strange? I don’t want Michael to be one of those parasites who sucks Janet dry for everything she has.

Camden: He won’t do that. He just got accepted to Yale.

Paula: He’s giving up Yale for Janet?

Camden: I know I thought the same thing, but then I forgot about worrying about it. I am a busy man, Paula.

Paula: Yes. Yes. I know. But how do you know that he actually got accepted?

Camden: Well I was going to telephone these next couple of days and make some good recommendations for Michael for when he goes to school there.

Paula: Do it today. That’ll prove if he goes to Yale.

Camden: But what is his last name?

Paula: We don’t know. I don’t even think Janet knows.

Janet is on the other side of the bookshelf suddenly.

Camden: She must know.

Paula: No, I do not think she knows the last name of the man she is going to marry.

Camden: Well go and ask her.

Paula: What am I going to say? What’s your boyfriend’s last name?

Janet: Yes.

Paula: Camden. Hold on. Janet is that you?

Janet: Yes, I’m over here.

Paula: How much of that did you hear?

Janet: Do you want to know Michael’s last name?

Paula: Yes. Can you give it to me?

Janet: No. I don’t know what it is.

Janet walks off.

Camden: What did she say?

Paula: She said she doesn’t know what it is.

Camden: Did she hear everything we were talking about?

Paula: No. I don’t think so.

Camden: Good. I will call and make my recommendation today.

Paula: I don’t know what you are recommending him for, but okay. . .

Camden: I’m recommending him for special treatment, if he chooses to go. . .it gives Yale boys special treatment in certain social settings of the campus if he gets several recommendations from those of extinguished notoriety who claim the house as their alma mater.

Paula: Lovely. Well whatever you Yale boys do. Do it. And find out whatever you can.

Camden: I will. But I think you are overreacting, Paula.

Paula: Okay. Alright. I’m going to go sit with Janet, please do it and call me back.

Camden: I will, Pushy Paula.

Paula: Yeah. Yeah. Hurry. Bye.

Camden: Good-bye.

Camden sits in bed. Denise sits on the end of the bed.

Denise: What is it?

Camden: Janet’s subsidy is going away.

Denise: Why?

Camden: Oh. Because the boy moved in.

Denise: He moved in? Already?

Camden: I guess so.

Denise: Isn’t that kind of fast?

Camden: I would imagine. But think of how expensive a place like hers is going to be. Oh bother.

Denise: What was Paula so upset about?

Camden: Oh she thinks Michael is some sort of sociopath sucking the life out of our daughter.

Denise: What do you think?

Camden: I think I’m going to be sad if I have to pay more rent out for our daughter.

Denise: Yes, Camden, Yes. You should try Clara’s cell phone again, I’m starving.

Camden: First, I have to make a phone call to my old alma honey mat-ter.

Denise: Yes, dear.

Camden: (after dialing and waiting) Hello?

Girl: Yale Admissions.

Camden: Hello, this is Camden Windhover the third calling.

Girl: (typing and then reading) Oh Yes, Dr. Camden. How can I help you today?

Camden: I’m calling to recommend a friend of mine who recently got accepted to your prestigious institution.

Girl: Yeah? What does recommend mean?

Camden: You don’t know what recommend is?

Girl: No. It wasn’t in our training, sir. Are you recommending him to go here?

Camden: No. He has already been accepted. . .

Girl: Then why would you need to recommend him?

Camden: You know. Because. For the privileges.

Girl: What are those?

Camden: If you don’t know, I certainly can’t tell you about the recommending and the privileges. It’s practically a secret society. Only the special. . . only the recommended know about it.

Girl: Oh so like all the rich, white kids who go here?

Camden: No, umm I didn’t mean that. Just put it down on his file that I, Camden Windhover III, recommended him.

Girl: But I still don’t know what that is.

Camden: Just write recommended, my name, and the date and initial it. Can you handle that?

Girl: I guess so, but nobody is going to know what it means.

Camden: Your boss will.

Girl: Okay, but my boss doesn’t really know what’s going on around here. She’s a college drop out and doesn’t even go to Yale. And she’s black.

Camden: I don’t care about the race of your boss at all. Now just do this.

Girl: Fine and then afterwards can I just bombard you with calls about scholarships and giving money back to the school, Doctor Camden Three?

Camden: It’s Camden Windhover the THIRD, missy and I don’t like your smarmy tone. I want you to calm down and do what I say alright? Quite. I don’t know what liberal minded piece of fucking fruit allowed this type of professionalism to cloud the customer service of my alma mata(rolls the r)rrr, but I want you to recommend this person, I don’t care who understands it.

Girl: Fine. What’s his name?

Camden: That’s the problem. I only know his first name.

Girl: He better have one awesome first name.

Camden: Michael.

Girl: You need to be more specific sir. Many Michaels have been accepted.

Camden: He’s white.

Girl: That only cut two guys out of the mix.

Camden: Remember I said, he’s white and he just applied this year.

Girl: Okay, you’re down to thirty names.

Camden: Ummm. What else do I know?

Girl: You don’t know a lot about this guy and you’re recommending him?

Camden: Quiet, you!

Girl: Let’s see what is his major?

Camden: I don’t know.

Girl: What does he like?

Camden: My daughter, he’s going to marry her.

Girl: Congratulations. But that’s not going to cut it.

Denise: Can they search the database by occupation? He’s a volunteer firefighter for the county.

Girl: I heard her. Yes. There are two names now.

Camden: Oh yes. He’s a volunteer firefighter.

Girl: Okay. You got it. His name is Michael Sandera. He lives in your town.

Camden: Oh, I suppose I could have searched by town now couldn’t I?

Girl: Yeah. I s’pose you could.

Denise: Oh. Why didn’t we think of that?

Camden: Did you put it in there? Recommended. Camden Windhover the Third. Not three or whatever you were driveling about.

Girl: Got it.

Camden: Then the date. Then your initials. Hello? Have you written it?

Girl: Yes.

Camden: Read it back. Wait. No. How did you spell my name? Did you spell it right?

Girl: Sir, it’s here on my computer.

Camden: Oh, so you don’t know my name from my voice?

Girl: Mr. Windhover.

Camden: Doctor.

Girl: Doctor Windhover. I spelled your name from the computer spelling. . .I actually cut and pasted it. So I didn’t even type it.

Camden: How is it spelled?

Girl: How?

Camden: Yes.

Girl: W-Y-N

Camden: Stop. Not that spelling. That is the old English spelling. I knew something was wrong there. The school sells my name doesn’t it?

Girl: What do you mean?

Camden: The school sells my names to corporations that make prescription drugs, doesn’t it?

Girl: I don’t know.

Camden: I always get things in the mail using that spelling of my name. But I don’t have a Y so the only place they could have gotten my name like that is from you guys.

Girl: Maybe.

Camden: I caught you. Anyway now you’ve fixed it I’m sure.

Girl: Uh huh.

Camden: Read it back to me –what you wrote.

Girl: I typed just what you told me: (doing British) ‘Recommended. Camden Windhover the Third. Not three or whatever you were driveling about.’

Camden: Erase it.

Girl: All of it? You want me to erase the whole stupid thing?

Camden: No. Just the bad parts.

Girl: All of it is bad. It’s stupid.

Camden: What kind of respect is this?

Girl: Nevermind. It’s done. Anything else can I get you today?

Camden: No.

Girl: Good-day. Bye.

She slams the phone down chomping her gum.

Camden: Good Grief. I really wish Clara was here now.

Denise: Did you make the recommendation?

Camden: Yes. But I tell you that the school doesn’t really treat you that well once you graduate. They just want your money and your fame to claim.

Denise: And they got that from you.

Camden: I suppose. But she didn’t know who I was.

Denise: She sounded like an idiot.

Camden: His last name is Sandera. I wonder who that is.

Denise: I haven’t heard of that family in this town.

Camden: Neither have I.

Denise: Are you going to call Mr. Andreas back?

Camden: No. That’s one prick I wouldn’t mind if I never talked to again. He might not know me, but I know him and he’s the reason that all of those people come to me in the first place.

Denise: Your patients?

Camden: Yes. Because of his gummy candy factory that clogs everybody’s arteries.

Denise: Maybe it’s important.

Camden: Maybe it has nothing to do with anything good in this town.

Denise: Oh. I didn’t realize you had such a hatred for a man you hardly know.

Camden: I don’t know him at all, but I know the results of his work. . .he’s an unhealthy man in every fashion. If it’s an emergency, he’ll call me.

Denise: Do you think we should do anything about Michael?

Camden: No. If Mr. Michael Sandera is moving in with Janet, he can foot the bill for the rent, don’t you think?

Denise: That doesn’t sound like such a bad idea.

Camden: If Mr. Sandera is any kind of good fellow at all, he’ll foot the bill.

Denise: We hope. (pause) What if Paula’s right?

Camden: Paula’s a kook, dear. A pure unadulterated kook. Pay her no mind or you’re sure to lose yours.

Denise: I need to get Clara in here.

Camden: Yes, my brain has gone dry.

Denise: And I’m starving.