Tales of the Lost Formicans and Other Plays Read online

  EVELYN: Yes, we have insurance.

  JIM: No. It’s a—a—great, big place where you shop—

  CATHY: A mall?

  JIM: A mall. And we’re putting in the—the—Goddammit!!

  EVELYN: When does he get back from his cruise, then? (Writes something down)

  CATHY: Drainage?

  JIM: Right.

  EVELYN: Thanks. (Dials another number)

  CATHY: But you’re the foreman. What are you running errands for?

  EVELYN: Yes. Our doctor gave me your—I’ll hold.

  JIM: Jack—Jack wants me to.

  EVELYN: Yes. Yes, we have insurance.

  JIM: You hear something? (Stops the truck)

  EVELYN: I’ll hold.

  CATHY: No. Where are we?

  JIM (Still humming): I hear something—a humming.

  EVELYN: Yes, we have insurance.

  CATHY: A humming?

  JIM: Yeah.

  EVELYN: Yes, we have insurance!

  CATHY: We’ve got to get Jack this pipe, Dad. Dad?

  (Jim has phased out, hums again)

  EVELYN: Blue Cross. Yes.

  (Trucker enters. Suddenly, he notices Jim and Cathy in the pickup. He stops immediately and crosses to them)

  TRUCKER: Can I help you?

  EVELYN: ALL RIGHT.

  JIM: I’d like a large root beer. (To Cathy) What do you want?

  CATHY: Dad—(To Trucker) We’re delivering some pipe. He’s the foreman of the pipe-laying crew.

  TRUCKER: Oh shit! Not him again!

  CATHY: Listen—this is my father.

  TRUCKER: You letting him drive?

  EVELYN: I was just talking to somebody—oh, sorry.

  TRUCKER: You’ll have to back out. The street is closed off.

  CATHY: Yessir. (To Jim) Back out, Dad.

  EVELYN: Something’s wrong with him. He’s . . .

  JIM: What? Oh.

  EVELYN: Confused or . . .

  CATHY: We have to back out. Back out.

  EVELYN: Something. He’s not . . .

  CATHY: We have to back out. Please, Dad.

  EVELYN: Himself.

  JIM: Oh. Oh. (Jim seems to be having trouble with the gear shift)

  EVELYN: Thank—you. (They’ve hung up on her—she hangs up the phone and writes something down)

  TRUCKER: Back this truck outta here!

  CATHY: Reverse, Dad. (Reaches over, gets the gear shift in)

  JIM: I got it—I got it. (Gets it into reverse)

  CATHY: Press the gas.

  JIM: Right. Right.

  (Trucker exits.

  Evelyn gets up and exits.

  A beat or two later)

  JIM: Who the hell was he?

  CATHY: Shouldn’t we turn here, Dad?

  JIM: What? Oh. Gotta get this watch fixed.

  CATHY: What’s wrong, Dad?

  (Jim is humming, doesn’t answer.

  Eric enters, throws down his books. Cathy crosses to Eric. Jim exits)

  VOICEOVER: They study the words and lives of the Dead. These hold Great Meaning for them.

  ERIC: Fucking stupid American History. Not even in English! Now, Mom, I ask you, I fucking ask you, what the hell good is this for me?

  CATHY (Looking at the book): This is in English. These are just parts of original documents, that’s all.

  ERIC: Look! All the fucking esses are effs! (Reads) “Feftember 19. He failed on his courfe, and made twenty-fix leaguef, fince it waf calm. Thif day, to the fip came a booby, and in the evening they faw another, and the Fanta Maria failed Weft toward the fetting fun.” No way. No way. Not this boy.

  CATHY: Eric, you are not quitting.

  ERIC: I hate the bus.

  CATHY: But you took the bus in New York all the time. It’s not different.

  ERIC: It’s a different bus.

  CATHY: Eric, you are not quitting school and I will not hear another word about it!! Do you hear me???

  ERIC: I’m not deaf. (Exits)

  (Cathy sits and reads Eric’s history book—Evelyn enters, distraught)

  EVELYN: Where is God??! (She lurches through the space) Where is God where is God where is God?? Where is He where is He where is He?? Where is God??! Where is God??!!! Where is He where is He where is. . . .

  (She exits, still distraught.

  Jim enters)

  JIM: Did your mother come through here?

  CATHY: Yeah.

  JIM: How did she seem?

  CATHY: Better.

  JIM: That’s a. . . . That’s a. . . .

  CATHY: Good?

  JIM: Good. Good. Good. Good. (Exits)

  CATHY (Reading from Eric’s American history book): And on this corf—course they sailed until after midday of the next day, until it was found that what they had said was land was not land, but only cloud. . . . (Introducing the next scene, to the audience, as Cathy) “Possible Explanation Number One.”

  (Jim enters with blueprints and a field book—he’s working on a construction site and knows exactly what he’s doing. The Actor enters, carrying an incomprehensible metal object—he is costumed as a B-Movie Alien. Cathy watches)

  B-MOVIE ALIEN (Approaching Jim): Greetings. Your overlord said you could repair any object.

  JIM: What?

  B-MOVIE ALIEN: It is very fucked up. We are . . . kinda stuck. Old pal.

  (Jim takes the object and looks at it carefully)

  JIM (About a part of it): This needs to be machined better, I can tell you that.

  B-MOVIE ALIEN: No problem. Way to go. Far out. My buddy. Give me some skin.

  JIM: Do you have a—a—never mind. (Takes a small all-purpose knife-pipe tamper tool from his pocket and opens the “knife”)

  B-MOVIE ALIEN: I don’t understand. Put away your weapon. We come in peace.

  JIM: You’re not from here, are you?

  B-MOVIE ALIEN: What do you mean? I am Earth through and through. I hail from Ohio.

  JIM (Too involved in fixing the object to care): No problem. Never—force—anything.

  B-MOVIE ALIEN (Repeats it into a small recording device): Never force anything.

  (The thing lights up)

  JIM: There. (Hands thing back to Alien)

  B-MOVIE ALIEN (Into recorder): There. (To Jim) What is your task here?

  JIM: Oh, I’m laying some pipe over there.

  B-MOVIE ALIEN: Well, this is top secret. Know what I mean, butter bean?

  JIM: Oh, sure—I’m used to that. Corps of Engineers, you know.

  B-MOVIE ALIEN: What’s your name?

  JIM: Jim McKissick.

  B-MOVIE ALIEN: Thanks so many.

  JIM: Hell, I never even seen one before. I couldn’t describe it if I had to.

  (Alien places his fingers on Jim’s head—Jim is instantly paralyzed)

  B-MOVIE ALIEN: Forget. Forget. Forget. Forget. How many? (Looks in notebook—can’t find the answer—does a few extra to be sure) Forget-forget-forget. (He’s overloaded a bit—burns his fingers) Whew! No problem.

  (Alien exits with gadget. Jim looks blankly at his hand, then exits, nearly catatonic)

  CATHY (To the audience): And that night I had a dream.

  (Cathy sits next to Jim—they are in the pickup again)

  Dad, where are we now? We’re going around in circles.

  JIM: It’s the circle drives.

  CATHY: Is this the way to the job?

  JIM (Reading street names): Kiowa, Iriquois, Quapaw, Huron—

  CATHY: Where are we?

  JIM (Reading street names): Saturn, Jupiter, Uranus, Mercury—

  CATHY: Dad—what’s that ahead? Like a big wall of—

  JIM: Dark.

  CATHY: But it’s daytime. It’s noon!

  JIM: We ran out of streets.

  (Cathy gets out of the pickup)

  Watch your step.

  CATHY: Where are we?

  JIM: This is where the mall goes. See?

  CATHY: No, I can’t see anything—it’s dark.


  JIM: They haven’t put in the electrics.

  CATHY: But what happened to the sky?

  JIM: There’ll be skylights. They’re in the plans.

  CATHY: Can we get out of here?

  (Trucker enters, but is wearing Alien sunglasses)

  ALIEN TRUCKER: Perhaps the little lady would like to see a map?

  (He snaps his fingers and two Aliens enter with a large, clear drawing of a rock, a wall and a large arrow pointing in-between. They hold up the drawing—Alien Trucker points)

  This is a rock. This is a hard place. You are here.

  JIM: Alright. Thank you.

  (Alien Trucker snaps his fingers, and he and Aliens exit with drawing)

  VOICEOVER: Jim? Thanks for bringing the pipe. It’s about time, Jim. You’re fired. Please leave the company truck.

  JIM: Alright. Thank you.

  CATHY (To invisible voice): What???!! (To Jim) Dad. Dad? Let’s get out of here!!

  JIM (Cheerful): Alright. Thank you. (Exits.)

  CATHY (To her exiting father): Alright? Thank you? Alright? Thank you? How do we get home? Dad? (To the audience) And I woke up and it was true.

  (Evelyn enters, speaks to Cathy)

  EVELYN: I can’t believe it. I can’t believe it. You believe in something and they just take it away from you—they jerk it out of your hand like a toy—like a toy from a baby. Years and years and years and years. Thinking you’re part of something and you’re not. Calling him by his first name—Jaaack. Christmas presents. Being nice to Louise—Loooweeeze, Loooweeze. It’s not her fault. But I just always liked him better than her. I mean, are we just, just a pair of boobs? I mean—are we just horses?

  CATHY: What happened? Mom?

  EVELYN: Don’t upset your dad.

  (Jim enters)

  JIM: Jack doesn’t want me any more.

  CATHY: Oh no.

  JIM: I need to get the rest of my tools out of the car.

  (He exits. Eric enters)

  ERIC (Surprised to see them): Whoooops! (Exits)

  CATHY: Eric!! Come here!!!

  ERIC (Offstage): Why?

  CATHY: It’s noon.

  ERIC (Offstage): I came home for lunch . . . money!! I forgot my lunch money. Yeah! I’m—going—back—to—school! Bye!!

  EVELYN (To Cathy): Well, what are you going to do!! Just sit there?? He’s cut school! He’s cut school! He’s cut school!

  CATHY: I know, Mom. What do you want me to do? Kill him??

  EVELYN: Yes!!!! That’s what I would’ve done to you!!! I’m going to help your father get his tools . . . or something. Look at me. I’m doing something!!! (Exits)

  CATHY (To her absent ex-husband): Michael, you sonovabitch, where are you! You jerk! You asshole! (Notices audience) Excuse me. I don’t know—I’m much nicer than that, really. Excuse me. Excuse me. ’Cuse me. (Exits quickly)

  VOICEOVER: What they call community is, in fact, random habitational clustering, but those in adjacent dwellings are labeled “neighbors” and are treated with tolerance.

  (A phone rings at Jerry’s and keeps on ringing until it stops. Jerry just stares at it. Cathy enters, looks at Jerry)

  CATHY: Excuse me. I was ringing the doorbell. I kept ringing the doorbell. Six, seven times. No one came, but I saw you standing in here, so I walked in. Excuse me. . . . Sorry.

  JERRY: I was watching the phone.

  CATHY: I wasn’t on the phone. I was ringing the doorbell.

  JERRY: But the phone was ringing.

  CATHY: Who called?

  JERRY: I don’t know.

  CATHY: It was me. At the door.

  JERRY: They hung up.

  CATHY: I’m looking for my father.

  JERRY: Wow. Are you working it out in therapy?

  CATHY: No. I’m asking around.

  JERRY: Wow. Sort of street-corner psychiatry? You just blurt things out and take whatever answers people give you?

  CATHY: I don’t have much choice. I am dependent on what other people have seen, you know.

  JERRY: Oh—wow. Like using the wisdom of the world. No bullshit. Other people’s experience. Would you like something—?

  CATHY: He’s been taking walks. He’s wearing khaki pants.

  JERRY: I love khaki pants.

  CATHY: And a shirt. He’s been taking walks for exercise and sometimes, he gets . . . confused.

  JERRY: I know about that. Would you like something to—

  CATHY: There’s something wrong with this floor.

  JERRY: —drink? I don’t get company much, but I have a well-stocked refrigerator.

  CATHY: I don’t drink a lot of fluids.

  JERRY: You should. I know. I’m a nurse. Have you ever had the feeling that something that’s just happened has happened before?

  CATHY: There’s a name for that.

  JERRY: Really?

  CATHY: Déjà vu.

  JERRY: I’ve heard that before! (Gasps) Wow.

  CATHY: It’s French.

  JERRY: France. They know about it, too! See? It’s all over the world! Things happen! Things happen!

  CATHY: Yes, they do.

  JERRY: Another world—but it’s this world. I don’t know, maybe it’s the government, but why do we know these things, if they aren’t true? Why do we feel, like, this force, unless it’s out there or, maybe, right here in this living room?

  CATHY: Why would this force be in your living room?

  JERRY: Exactly! You know. You know. I knew you would. We feel things that disturb us—right? Right? But why would we want to do that? Why wouldn’t we just feel the things that make sense? But nooooo, no, no—God forbid we should have a little peace of mind. If we had a little peace of mind, we might think clearly. Noooo—it’s give you something, take it away. Give you something—Oooops! Dropped it. Bend over and pick it up now. Are we good and bent over? Goooood. (Mimes gleefully kicking someone in the butt) Surprise!

  CATHY: Do most people understand you?

  JERRY: No, but you do.

  CATHY: Not that much—

  JERRY: I want to show you some pictures.

  CATHY: I don’t think so. I really have to—

  JERRY (Takes photos from his pocket): Here.

  (Cathy looks at them)

  CATHY: Is this Vietnam?

  JERRY: No, it’s my backyard. Look at the sky, see?

  CATHY: It’s all marked up.

  JERRY: You see them!! I knew you would. Tiny, little metal kites in the sky?

  CATHY: You drew them in.

  JERRY: No, I didn’t.

  CATHY: I can tell.

  JERRY: We’re controlled by aliens. And they’re idiots.

  CATHY: I’m going now.

  JERRY: Oh.

  CATHY: You need to find some friends.

  JERRY (Afraid to move his mouth for fear aliens will see him talk): They’re making you do this.

  CATHY: No, they’re not.

  JERRY (Little mouth movement): Yes, they are.

  CATHY: I have to go. (Exits)

  JERRY (Looking up at the sky): I see you. I see you. (Flipping the bird to the sky) How’s that?

  VOICEOVER: Hmmmm. There’s that gesture again.

  (Jerry exits)

  Next segment: An object may have many uses.

  (Judy enters with a large screwdriver in her mouth. She is watching the street)

  CATHY (From offstage): Judy! Hey, Judy! Judy!!

  VOICEOVER: Vocal intensity is frequently necessary for effective communication.

  (Cathy enters, sees Judy)

  CATHY: What are you waiting for?

  JUDY: The skateboard hoard.

  VOICEOVER: Offspring are born without wheels and must acquire their own.

  JUDY: I’m taking Jason’s wheels. He won’t use Jennifer’s skateboard. It’s pink.

  CATHY: Sounds serious. What did he do?

  JUDY: It’s all about power, Hon. And they’ve figured it out. We never figured it out. We were stupid.

  CATHY: It’s so windy.
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  JUDY: Nothing stops them. Even rain. My Ex came by. He’s got a new Corvette. And a new girlfriend. She’s young. Of course. Her biggest problem is if her blow dryer shorts out. Nature uses us. When I think that if I were watching TV some night and this movie came on where a small head appears from between some woman’s legs and then this thing that is all wet and bloody comes out, and begins to bleat, and there’s this long slimy tube attached to its body that comes from inside this sobbing and amazed woman, I would run out of the room and lose my dinner. And then I would call up the TV station and say, “What the hell is this horror movie doing on TV where my kids can see it!” So how’s the journal?

  CATHY: I gave up. I can’t write about my daily life.

  JUDY: Why? I liked that story about the ant.

  (Sound of a far-off beat box approaching—with about three kinds of music coming out of it at once)

  Oh, Jesus.

  CATHY: What’s that?

  JUDY: Jagger

  CATHY (Sees him): Who’s he?

  JUDY: Brain surgeon’s kid. He’s the leader. He’s thirteen.

  CATHY: I hear the wheels. There they are!! My God, they’ve got a sail! They look like a big ship!!! (Music is closer) Who are they?

  JUDY: They are our children!!

  CATHY: Who are they?!!!

  JUDY: I don’t know!!!

  CATHY: Is Eric with them?

  JUDY: No, but there’s Jason and Jennifer!

  CATHY: That sail looks familiar.

  JUDY: It’s my mother’s Elvis Presley bedspread!! Jasonnnnnn!!!!!

  (Judy exits, running. Eric enters, crosses to Cathy)

  ERIC (About the kids on the skateboards): Look at those little worms.

  CATHY: Eric—I was looking for you.

  ERIC: Yeah.

  CATHY: Grandma gave me this phone bill. Look at these charges—(Reads)—$35.12—New York—2:45 p.m. $42.10—New York—3:10 p.m. And this one just last week: $65.37—three hours and forty-five minutes.

  ERIC: Yeah.

  CATHY: Have you been calling New York City in the afternoon?

  ERIC: Yeah.

  CATHY: Are you out of your mind? The rates are sky-high then!

  ERIC: I needed to talk to Todd.

  CATHY: There’s not a conversation in here that’s less than two hours!

  ERIC: We always used to talk after school.

  CATHY: But not long distance!

  ERIC: Hey. I’m a long-distance guy.

  CATHY: This bill comes to almost two hundred dollars!

  ERIC: Hey. I didn’t get the divorce. I didn’t ask to move here. I didn’t make Grandpa sick or whatever the fuck is wrong with him. Matter of fact, I didn’t ask to be born. You and “Mike” had all the fun when I was conceived. I was exploding. You think exploding is fun? Doubling and quadrupling and sixteenth-toopling or whatever the hell it is. You’re a blob, you’re a fish, you’re some hairless tadpole weird-looking piece of flesh? Huh?