18: Foot Bath

Later in the evening. Inside Carol’s farmhouse on County T. The house is cluttered with boxes and stuff everywhere. Magazines. Boxes of old knitting. Cross-stitch patterns. Baby clothes. A case in the corner is filled with porcelain angels of all shapes and sizes but even it is obscured completely from view by clutter. Carol enters the swinging front screen door after she has driven Janet home. She calls hoarsely and raggedly –unlike we have seen her before.

Carol: Beau! Beau!

A long pause. Beau comes in wearing only jeans.

Beau: Carol, what is it?

Carol: I was hoping you hadn’t gone to bed. I was hoping you could get my foot bath ready.

Beau: Carol. I’m really tired.

Carol: That’s fine. Don’t worry about it. I can just sit here so my feet swell up.

Beau: Did you take Janet home?

Carol: Yes. Why?

Beau: No reason.

Carol: No reason? I saw those beady little eyes, Beauregard. Well I got news for you.

Beau: What’s that?

Carol: Janet’s. . .well. . .special.

Beau: She seems special.

Carol: Get my footbath and I’ll tell you all about her.

Beau: Okay.

Carol: I put it under the sink from last night. Bring a washcloth too.

Beau: Fine. (He moves through the garbage to the kitchen.) Seems like she’s a fast potato peeler.

Carol: She’s not fast at all, Beau, honey. Not fast at all.

Beau: Oh, yeah? She got my tattoo just fine.

Carol: That’s different. Janet is dumb. Oh just set it there. That’s great honey. Will you fill it with hot water?

Beau: Sure.

Carol: I know there was a reason I paid you.

Beau: Yeah.

Carol: But Beau. I’ll let you know right now that Janet is dumb.

Beau: What do you mean?

Carol: She’s retarded. She can’t think straight. She’s stupid. Oooo! This feels nice.

Beau: Who told you?

Carol: Her case worker at the Beverly Judith Berry House.

Beau: Oh.

Carol: So that’s the end of that. Would you mind rubbing my feet tonight?

Beau: But that’s it.

Carol: That’s it?

Beau: Nothing else I should know about Janet?

Carol: No. Case closed. Stay away from her.

He rubs her feet.

Carol: That feels really good. I wish there was something better on TV tonight.

Beau: Yeah.

Carol: Would you rub my calves?

Beau: I said no more. That’s it. Now good night, Carol. (He gets up and stalks out.)

Carol: (yelling loudly) I don’t know what I pay you boys for. I don’t. I really don’t. You make me at my wits end, you do! (pause) Oooo! Infomercials. (She changes the channel.)