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Tales of the Lost Formicans and Other Plays Page 2

JUDY (From offstage): Home!! I’m home!! Jason!! Jennifer!! Somebody help me get these groceries outta the car!! (Enters and crosses, lugging bags of groceries, stops near her exit and speaks to audience) Last week one of the neighbors ran her rid’em mower the entire length of the street, on the grass—one mowed swatch through eight or nine lawns—flowers, toys, garden hoses all mowed into teeny, tiny little pieces—looked like a party. Then she hit somebody’s rotary sprinkler and it threw her off course, but she kept on going, her foot flat on the gas, screaming at the top of her lungs until she came to rest, violently, against a garbage truck. Her husband died last year—he used to do all their mowing. I—I—I gotta move outta here. (Exits)

  VOICEOVER: They reproduce with difficulty.

  ERIC (To Cathy offstage): You hear me, Mom? Everything is completely fucked up! I didn’t get the fucking divorce. It’s not my fucking fault. And now my entire life is fucked! Mooooommmmm!

  (Cathy enters and looks at Eric)

  VOICEOVER: They are grouped in loosely structured units called families. Ring.

  ERIC (Picks up phone): Yo. (To Cathy) It’s someone named Grandma. Wait—is this the Grandma we’re supposed to live with? (To person on phone) Where is this place? (Listens to answer—turns back to Cathy) No. No fucking way. Fuck no.

  (Cathy takes phone)

  CATHY (On phone): Mom? Yes, they all use that word. A lot.

  VOICEOVER: The economic system is antiquated, but communication is excellent, in spite of primitive equipment.

  CATHY (On phone): Yes, everything is fine. He’s excited about coming. Excuse me—(To Eric, sotto voce, handing Eric the phone) Now, for Chrissake be niccccccccce.

  ERIC (Into phone): Whatsup, Grandma. (Can’t do it, hands Cathy the phone)

  CATHY: I’ll call you back, Mom?

  EVELYN (On stage, on the phone): No.

  CATHY (On phone): No?

  EVELYN: It’s your father.

  (Jim wanders on)

  CATHY: What?

  EVELYN: He’s . . . different. I don’t know . . .

  CATHY: Should we still come home?

  ERIC: This is my home.

  EVELYN: Please.

  ERIC: This is my home!

  EVELYN: Please.

  ERIC: This is my home.

  EVELYN: Please.

  (They both hang up. Evelyn follows the wandering Jim off as he exits)

  CATHY: Eric, we have to go home. We are going home. And that’s final!!!

  ERIC: You’re outta control, Mom. You need to get some fucking help.

  CATHY: Listen!!! I am the mother!! You are the child!! I am in control here!!! I am the adult!!!

  ERIC: Mom. There are no adults in this world. I just figured that out this year. And this boy’s not going to live in any fucking suburb. No way. (Exits)

  VOICEOVER: No way.

  (Judy is standing, looking out over the audience’s head, pointing out houses to Cathy)

  JUDY: Split level, split level, raised ranch—

  CATHY: Those are new. Nice.

  JUDY: Ten years at least. (Beat) Now that’s a new one—a twisted cape. High dollar house—didn’t catch on.?

  CATHY: That was our little hill.

  JUDY: It was just leftover dirt from something else. It wasn’t, like, a real hill or anything.

  CATHY: SO what did our side of the street do?

  JUDY: Some new siding. Above-ground swimming pools. Trying to be, you know. . . . (Points at a house) New garage. It’s a kit.

  CATHY: Really? Huh. (About another house) Boy, that lawn looks like hell. He used to keep it perfect.

  JUDY: You don’t know?

  CATHY: What?

  JUDY: Spread newspapers on the living room rug, lay down, and shot himself.

  CATHY: Oh my God!

  JUDY: Of course, it still soaked through.

  CATHY (Still about the suicide): Why?!

  JUDY: He lay there all afternoon. Say goodbye to that wall-to-wall carpeting. (About another house) And over there? She never leaves the house.

  CATHY: That was a showplace inside.

  JUDY: Still may be. We’ll never know.

  CATHY (Another house): The . . . boys. Those wild boys . . .

  JUDY: Killed in Vietnam. Killed in a car wreck. And the other one’s a lawyer.

  CATHY: Mom never wrote.

  JUDY: I thought you knew, or I would’ve—

  CATHY: Yeah.

  JUDY: Nobody writes . . .

  CATHY: No. (A pleasant memory of someone) Oh, whatever happened to Darryl?

  JUDY: San Francisco.

  CATHY: Is he still alive?

  JUDY: I dunno.

  CATHY (About the neighborhood): Strange.

  JUDY: Yeah, it’s pure Mars. I had to move back. I couldn’t afford my rent plus the Reeboks. Mom’s alright with the kids. I mean, that’s the way families used to do it all the time. This is a nice place to live. We grew up here. It’s not the subdivision that’s the problem, it’s the society. My mother and I . . . get along. (Long pause, waiting for Cathy to say something about this—agree with her) I mean, you’re doing all right, aren’t you?

  CATHY (Realizing that Judy wants to hear this): Yeah.

  JUDY: It’s only temporary. Until I get a better-paying job. I think I’m gonna start at one of those learning centers they advertise on TV—you can put it on your Mastercard.

  CATHY: What are you gonna learn?

  JUDY: Radiology. I don’t know about wearing all that lead. Can’t be good for you. What are you going to do?

  CATHY: Something’ll come up.

  JUDY: Remember that little dog that was in love with you?

  CATHY: Oh, the humper.

  JUDY: Why don’t we call him up for Saturday night? Boy, uh. (Beat) Actually, he’s dead. They get kidney problems, those dogs.

  CATHY (Thinking about the suicide): Why did he do it?

  JUDY (Thinking about the dog): He was a slave of love, humping your leg—his little pink thing reaching out . . . with no place to go. So sad.

  CATHY: NO, I meant Mr. Whatshisname.

  (Cathy puts a finger to her forehead like a gun. Judy moves the “gun” so that the “barrel” is in Cathy’s mouth)

  JUDY: Bang.

  CATHY: Oh.

  JUDY: Yeah, he meant it.

  CATHY: But why?

  JUDY: Seems so incredible to you? He wasn’t happy!

  CATHY: Well, who is?

  JUDY: But in a house that nice! You know?

  (Judy exits. Cathy stays on the “lawn.”

  Jim enters as before, wearing lipstick, and puts his head down on the table, just as before)

  VOICEOVER: This is the correct placement. Thank you.

  JIM (About the coolness of the table against his head): “Ahhh.” (To someone offstage) I’m gonna finally fix the goddam toaster. Evelyn?

  (He exits, returns with the toaster, sits.

  Cathy enters the scene and addresses the audience)

  CATHY: I’d forgotten how small this house is.

  (Evelyn enters, holding a dish towel. To Evelyn:)

  What?

  EVELYN: He’s in the kitchen. He’s just sitting there.

  CATHY (To Evelyn): What time is it?

  EVELYN: Ten a.m.

  (Cathy enters Jim’s space, Evelyn following)

  CATHY (To Jim): What are you doing home, Dad?

  JIM (Pleasant, oblivious): Hi. I fixed this damn thing again.

  EVELYN: What are you doing home, Jim?

  JIM: What’s for supper?

  CATHY: What you got on your mouth?

  JIM: Chapstick.

  EVELYN: It’s an honest mistake.

  (Evelyn wipes lipstick off Jim’s mouth.

  Phone rings)

  CATHY (On phone): Hello. (Hands receiver to Jim) Dad?

  JIM (Takes receiver, then puts it to his ear): Uh-huh? . . . Hello, old buddy. . . . Home. . . . What?! (Looks at watch) What??!! (Stands, drops phone) No. (Starts to exit, looks at Cathy)

&n
bsp; CATHY: What is it, Dad?

  EVELYN: He’s supposed to be at work! Don’t you see?! He’s supposed to be at work!!

  JIM: I—I don’t understand.

  CATHY: Want me to go with you?

  JIM: To work with me? Why? It’s all right. Doesn’t anybody think it’s all right?! (Bolts out the door)

  (Cathy exits after Jim.

  Evelyn notices the phone receiver which hasn’t been hung up—she picks it up)

  EVELYN: Hello? Jack? . . . He’s left. He’ll be right there. . . . No, he’s fine. Came home to get Cathy. She’s . . . visiting. . . . I’m fine, Jack. . . . Bye-bye.

  (She hangs up the phone. She looks at the paper towel with the lipstick on it. The toaster pops—it’s fixed. Eric enters in his jockey shorts—he’s just gotten up)

  ERIC: Toaster fixed finally? Get some frozen waffles today—okay, Grandma?

  EVELYN: NO.

  ERIC: Jesus, I can’t even eat what I want? (Exiting) I don’t get to live where I want, I can’t say what I fucking want to say—

  EVELYN: What did you say? (Exiting after him) What did you say?

  ERIC (Offstage): What kind of fucking life is this, huh???

  (Jerry enters, sits in the kitchen chair and talks to the audience)

  JERRY: First off, they get a warehouse—doesn’t have to be all that big, say, about the size of a Safeway. And the first thing they do is spray the walls and the ceiling flat black. And then they bring in about thirty loads of number ten gravel and they cover the floor with it. And then a couple, three loads of retaining wall rock—you know the size I mean—about as big as my fist. And they sprinkle that over this base of gravel. Now you know they’ve made some mounds here and there, so the floor isn’t completely flat. They hang some lights from the girders and set up some big spots, and they got a control booth in a corner. Then they bring in the machines—the lunar lander and the L.E.M. And that’s when they set up the cameras, shout “Action!” and make a movie. Then they print it in black and white on crummy film in slow motion and pipe it onto all the television sets. And whammo—all the world sees a man land on the moon and plant the American flag. I mean, “Moon Rocks?” Really. And don’t talk to me about Voyager. They got a ride at Walt Disneyworld better than that. Think about it. (Exits)

  VOICEOVER: He loses three days—no—wait. This is the female bonding scene.

  (Judy and Cathy are talking)

  CATHY: The kids? Your mom?

  JUDY: At the mall.

  CATHY: A little risky.

  JUDY: I wouldn’t go near the house—are you kidding me? His apartment. Are you into this? You don’t seem into this.

  CATHY: Oh—I love it.

  JUDY: Yeah.

  CATHY: I love this.

  JUDY: Yeah.

  CATHY: It’s too much.

  JUDY: Yeah.

  CATHY: God.

  JUDY: Right.

  (Long pause as they both smile and nod)

  CATHY: We’re talking the same guy.

  JUDY: Right.

  CATHY: The one.

  JUDY: That’s right.

  CATHY: Amazing. Makes me crazy! Uh! You are my hero. You are definitely my hero.

  JUDY: There’s just one thing.

  CATHY: What? What?

  JUDY (Beat): I said the L-word. (Pause)

  CATHY: What?

  JUDY: I said the L-word.

  CATHY: No.

  JUDY: Yes.

  CATHY: Was he . . . there?

  JUDY: Was he there.

  CATHY: Are you sure he heard you?

  JUDY: Oh yeah.

  CATHY: What did he do?

  JUDY: It seemed to throw him off rhythm slightly.

  CATHY: Then? You said it then?

  JUDY: I know.

  CATHY: Boy.

  JUDY: I know.

  CATHY: Was there any discussion . . . later?

  JUDY: Nope.

  CATHY: An acknowledgment of any kind from him?

  JUDY: Are you kidding? (Beat) Are you kidding? (Beat) It would’ve been easier if I’d farted, frankly. Oh God. Oh God.

  CATHY: I know.

  JUDY: It’s just—been a long time for me.

  CATHY: I know.

  JUDY: I just sort of, like, lost it.

  CATHY: I know.

  JUDY: Oh God, what an amateur.

  CATHY: It’ll be all right.

  JUDY: He heard me say it.

  CATHY: He’ll forget. Men have short memories. Particularly for emotional information.

  JUDY: Oh boy.

  CATHY: Don’t worry about it.

  JUDY: I’m fucked. I’m totally fucked. Can you tell me I’m not fucked?

  CATHY: Maybe he’s different.

  JUDY: I wish I could take it back.

  CATHY (To herself): Oh my God. Starting from scratch.

  JUDY: What?

  CATHY: Nothing.

  (Cathy and Judy exit in opposite directions)

  VOICEOVER: This is where he loses three days.

  (Jim enters and sits at the kitchen table, and stirs his coffee very carefully, completely immersed in this action. Evelyn enters)

  EVELYN (Ready to go): Alright.

  JIM (Pleasantly): Okay.

  EVELYN: Are you go to the ready store?

  JIM: What?

  EVELYN (Annoyed, as to a child): Are—you—ready—to—go—to—the—erstoe?

  JIM: I—I—

  EVELYN: Yaagh!! Yaagh!! Are you ready to go to the yaagh?

  JIM: Alright!

  (Evelyn exits. After a long beat, Jim stands up and begins to look around for her)

  Evelyn? Baby?

  (Aliens enter and take his table and chair, so when he comes back to where he was sitting, everything is gone. Jim panics and begins to run around. Suddenly a pair of headlights appears right upstage from him—Jim freezes in their light. A loud diesel horn honk. A Trucker enters, having climbed down from the truck)

  TRUCKER: Whatthehelliswrongwithyou?

  JIM: Who are you?

  TRUCKER: Are you blind?!!

  (Evelyn enters with groceries in a couple of bags)

  EVELYN: Jim!! Good God!!

  TRUCKER: Is this guy yours???

  EVELYN: Jim—you were right there with me at the checkout—I turn around and you were gone!!

  TRUCKER: Keep him out of the street!!

  JIM (To Trucker): I’ll be with you in a minute.

  EVELYN (To Trucker): We’re sorry.

  JIM: Nice truck. Peterbilt!

  TRUCKER (Exiting): Dickhead!

  JIM (To Evelyn): Where’s my coffee?

  EVELYN: Come on, Jim.

  (Evelyn exits and Jim starts to follow. Aliens replace his table and chair, but not his coffee. He turns and notices his chair and table again, crosses to it and sits—the coffee is gone. Evelyn enters in different clothes)

  Alright. What do you want to do today? (About his clothes) Wait—didn’t I layout some clean clothes for you? These are the same ones you wore yesterday, Jim.

  JIM: I can’t keep track of my damn coffee. Isn’t that funny?

  (Evelyn gets a fresh cup and puts it down in front of him. Jim puts his hand in it and burns it)

  It’s hot. Owwwwwww!!

  EVELYN (In sympathy and fear): Oh Jim! That’s your hurt hand! (She tries to get him up) Come to the sink—I’ll pour cold water on it.

  JIM: No. Every time I leave this chair, something happens.

  EVELYN: I’ll get a washcloth.

  (She exits. Hank enters—he’s a male relative of Jim’s)

  JIM: Hank!!

  HANK: Jimmy!!

  (Jim puts out his hand—Hank shakes it vigorously and it doesn’t hurt. Jim looks at his hand in amazement)

  How are you doing?

  JIM: What are you doing here?

  HANK: I’m collecting for the Sunday paper.

  JIM: No kidding. Why?

  HANK: That’ll be three thirty-five.

  JIM (Looking in his billfold): I don’t have it. br />
  HANK (Whispers): Get out while there’s still time. (Horn honk. Hank speaks in a normal voice) Gotta run. I’ll be back.

  JIM: That’s what you always say. Hank? Hank!!

  (Evelyn enters, dressed differently again)

  EVELYN: I was honking for you, Jim. Didn’t you hear me?

  JIM: Hank was here, Evelyn!!

  EVELYN: Hank is dead, Jim. Jim?

  JIM: But he was here.

  EVELYN: Jim—the paperboy yesterday—you called him Hank.

  JIM: The paperboy is Scott.

  EVELYN: Yes, that’s right. Scott.

  JIM: Scott—I know. I know that.

  EVELYN: The doctor wants to check your hand today—(She looks at his burned hand—the same one that had the bandaged finger at the beginning of the play) Jim!! You took the bandage off again!! Dammit! Come on.

  JIM: Wait.

  EVELYN: What is it?

  JIM: I—I have to find my insurance card.

  EVELYN: I left the car running. Don’t be long.

  (She exits. Jim takes out his billfold and sits down at the table and goes through all the cards and the pictures. As he lays the cards out carefully in a row, an Alien enters and begins to pick them up. Jim doesn’t notice—he’s become too involved, distracted, looking at some of the pictures he’s found in his billfold. The Alien exits with the cards—Jim turns back to go through them, notices that they are gone—pats the table where they were, looking for them. Sound of a car horn honking. The honking becomes a long hum. Jim stares ahead.

  Cathy and Judy are doing the L-word scene as in the earlier part of the play—like the tape is running backwards. Jim exits)

  CATHY (To herself): Cha-erks murf geentrats. Dog eyem ho.

  JUDY (Backing in): Kab ti kate duk I shiwa I.?

  CATHY: Tner-ref-fid see eebyaim.

  JUDY: Tkuff tawn my eem illet ooya nak. Tkuff eelatote my. Tkuff my.

  VOICEOVER: We’ve seen this.

  CATHY: Ti touba eerow tnode.

  VOICEOVER: I said we’ve seen this. And X-load tape. It’s a zoomer. Thank you.

  (Cathy and Judy exit, still in the backwards mode.

  After a beat, Evelyn enters, sits down at the table and makes a phone call.

  In another space, Cathy and Jim are in the cab of his pickup. Jim is humming “That Old Black Magic”)

  CATHY: Where are we, Dad?

  JIM: In the pickup.

  CATHY: I know that.

  EVELYN: Hello? Yes.

  CATHY: Where are we going? Where’s the job?

  EVELYN: This is Mrs. McKissick. The doctor saw my husband last—I’ll hold.

  JIM: Out . . . out.

  CATHY: Another subdivision.