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.