MESSAGES copyright 2012 m.s.

Gil heard the annoying bells toll. The ring tone on his phone was telling him he had a message. He was in the middle of a conversation with Meg, a very important conversation about whether she would stay with him or not, when Claudia messaged him.

“For God's sake....” Gil's face became flushed.

CLAUDIA: GIL, DARLING. I NEED TO SEE YOU. WE HAVE TO RESOLVE THIS. PLEASE LET ME SEE YOU.

“Is that from her?” Meg said coolly.

He had just told Meg he wouldn't lie to her again. Now was the time to prove it. “Yes,” Gil rolled his eyes. “She will not leave me alone.”

“What does it to say? Your message?”

“Please, Meg....”

“No,” Meg said. She stood from the couch and pranced over to to the bar where Gil was standing, her flowing skirts behind her. She reached for the phone, he withdrew, put it in his trouser pocket. “Let me see.”

“What about what you said,” Gil raised an eyebrow.

'What—no, Give me--”

“You said if I told you the truth, you would start trusting me.” Gil finished fixing his vodka and soda, swirled it with a finger, drank it fast as if someone was going to take it from him.

Meg crossed her arms and stewed for a minute. “Alright,” She said. “Don't tell me what she said.”

“No,” Gil was enjoying having one up on Meg. To see her give up the fight so quickly. “I'll tell you. I just didn't want to let you see the message. She wants to meet and break it off.”

Wrinkles crossed Meg's face in a question mark. Her lips pursed. “Why would you need to meet to break it off? It's over between you two.” Then she shot him a dirty look. “It is over, isn't it?”

“Of course it is. Both of you are too much trouble. A man could die of nagging and sexual frustration from two women.”

“Ha ha. That is not true with me—then what was so great about her if the sex wasn't good?” Meg put her hands on hips.

“She's a great conversationalist.” Gil said.

“That's stupid.”

Gil shrugged. “Oh well. That's me. A bit weird.”

“Tell me about it.” Meg said exasperated.

“So. Can I go and get rid of her?”

“If you promise.....you better get rid of her.” Meg waved a finger in Gil's face.

“Don't worry. I will.”

GIL: COME TO THE OLD MINE SHAFT OFF 17. WE CAN TALK THERE.

CLAUDIA:WHY THERE? WHY NOT COFFEE AT THE NUTMEG?

GIL: CLAUDIA. DO AS I SAY. PLEASE.

CLAUDIA: YOUR WIFE ALREADY KNOWS ABOUT US, SO WHY WORRY WHERE WE MEET.

GIL: I WAS HOPING TO CONTINUE OUR DANCES. I'M NOT FOND OF VOYEURISM.

CLAUDIA: YOU WERE HOPING I WOULD USE MY MOUTH, WEREN'T YOU?

GIL: NOT ONLY WAS I HOPING, I WAS PRAYING YOU WOULD.

CLAUDIA: I'LL SEE YOU THERE IN THIRTY MINUTES.

Gil smiled. Why not? He thought. One last tango. A bit of a turn on to do it in the old mine shaft. Just like they did it in the classrooms at the college.

“Ah, Coeds. I surely do love them.” Gil was of course referring to the many female students he'd helped study late at night. More than Meg thought. The only one she really knew of was Claudia.

Claudia was the typical Lit student. Ideology over content, theory over work. Gil didn't care if she thought Dick and Jane books were the work Vladimir Nabokov. She was twenty, tall, legs to her neck with chestnut brown hair. She was sexy as hell with those green eyes. Of course, Meg with her short blond hair and slightly overweight thirty year old body was still very attractive. She too, was a student of Gil's. And at forty three she'd trapped him in marriage ten years before.

Claudia though was somewhat annoying and clingy. Annoying because she was the only Coed bimbo Gil ever met that was smart enough to teach his lit class.

It was the second time they'd made love in the mine shaft before Gil felt weak. He'd finished on her stomach and Claudia rubbed it into her smooth white stomach. She smiled, licked her lips as Gil watched.

“You dirty girl,” Gil said, stumbled weakly past her to sit on a bench missing a board in the middle.

“Just not dirty enough,” Claudia rose from the dusty mine shaft floor and rolled her bra back over her small breasts.

“Please, Claudia.” Gil wiped beads of sweat from his forehead with his handkerchief. Monogrammed handkerchief that Claudia bought him for Christmas. And Claudia was playing on the new Dimension smart phone Gil bought her for Christmas. The same one Meg had wanted, but he could only afford one.

“Oh...that Vera. She always posts the funniest pictures on facebook,” Claudia said. “You have come here for one last sexual encounter with me?”

“Must you speak so academic?” Gil said sadly.

“The only way I know to speak...” She turned her back to him. Still playing on her phone. “It's funny I couldn't cry as I have figured out you don't want me anymore.”

“Is that so? I cry every time I think of it.”

“I don't think I can because you aren't going to leave me,” Claudia giggled. “Not after what I have to say.”

“There's no other way, Claudia. I still feel for you, but--”

“Listen to me,” She turned swiftly to him, a fixed, devious smile on her face. “We are never going to be apart. We will be together forever.”

“You are getting too emotionally---”

“Gil...if you leave me...I'll tell the college...”

Gil burst into a harsh laughter. “My dear Lord!” He clapped his hands. “These days, dear, the college could care less about my love life. Times have changed---”

“I'm only seventeen,” Claudia said.

Gil stopped laughing. His eyebrows arched down. “No,” He shook his head. “This is the second year for you.”

“I graduated when I was fourteen. I skipped ahead several grades because of my astounding I.Q.”

“You're making this up.” He felt defeated. Confused. Very low on himself....trapped.

Claudia retrieved her purse from staircase that led out of the mine shaft. She showed her drivers license to him. He read the date of birth, put his head in his hands. Then he handed it back to her.

“There's more,” She continued, turned her back to him to put the license back in her purse.”I'm carrying your child.”

He'd seen the missing plank for the bench he was sitting on. Something came over Gil.....he wasn't sure what it was.....a devil...a demon....but, no, he rejected all those reasons. He didn't believe in any of those superstitions.

Gil picked up the wooden plank. He swung hard and caught the back of Claudia's head. She fell with a whimper. She was lying face down, not moving at all. Was she did? Gil thought. He didn't want to take a chance for her to get up and get out of this mine shaft. So Gil hit her again. He heard the board crush her skull. It was a crunch, then a wet sound.

Blood seemed to run from her head like a newly made spring in a garden.

Gil looked down. That phone. That so called Smart phone. Oh how she annoyed him with that machine. Text messaging him at least fifty times a day. Gil picked the square piece of hard shelled plastic and threw it down. It slammed against the hard ground. It nearly broke in half. Gil stomped on it to make sure the job was done.

His mother always said he was thorough.

Gil started to panic. He ran up the staircase and nearly missed a step. He caught himself and managed to climb out of the shaft. He rushed to his car, stopped there. He saw her Volkswagen. Looked around and remembered the swamp.

Gil smiled to himself. “Oh yes.” He said. “Be thorough.”

“Well?” Meg met him at the door.

Gil ran past her and settled for the bar, where he promptly poured himself a whiskey.

Meg sighed. “Damn. You only drink whiskey when things don't go well. She'll still be clinging to you.”

Gil drank it down fast. He caught his breath, shook his head. “No.” He said. “I don't think she will.”

“So you got rid of her?” Meg thought a minute. She watched Gil nod his head slowly. A huge smile came across her face. “Good. The bitch.”

Gil's ring tone sounded. The bells tolled loud and clear.

CLAUDIA: I STILL LOVE YOU MORE THAN ANYTHING GIL, BABY.

Gil felt his knees become weak. His face went white.

“Gil, darling. I think we should take a holiday....what. What's wrong?”

Gil had to get his head right. That text was sent earlier, I know it. He thought. Before....

“Nothing honey!” He screamed and smiled. “Where do you want to go?”

“You look a little crazed, Gil,” Meg backed away from him.

“I'm just excited by the trip, is all,” Gil said, wringing his hands.

His ring tone went off again.

CLAUDIA: WE'LL BE TOGETHER ALWAYS.

Another bell sounded.

CLAUDIA: JUST YOU AND ME.

Another one.

CLAUDIA: AND OUR CHILD.

“Oh God!” Gil wheezed and ran for the front door.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Meg yelled to him.

Gil opened the front door, gave her a disturbing smile. “I just have to go and check on something is all.”

***************************************

Gil was at the mine shaft. He climbed down cautiously. Driving erratically there, all thoughts turned to many things. Someone had it in for him. He was being set up. But how would anyone else have her number. How would anyone know about the baby---a friend, maybe? She wasn't dead and was toying with him?

That was it. She was still alive and toying with him. That bitch.

But she was dead.

Gil saw it with his own two eyes. She was lying there face up----wait. He had left her face down. And....and....her phone was in pieces.....

Now it was in her dead cold hand. The whole thing.....like it had never been smashed.

“No!” Gil cried out. He stumbled backwards, his face frozen in shock. He turned and ran up the staircase. He lost his footing and fell backwards. Gil landed hard on the ground of the mine shaft. There was a crunch, followed by a wet sound. Blood ran from the back of his sunken head.

His eyes were fixed on the dimming sunlight.

His phone had fallen out of his pocket. The ring tone sounded. Bells were clanging away loudly.

CLAUDIA: SEE. I TOLD YOU WE WOULD BE TOGETHER FOEVER!

BLOOD RED DREAMS copyright 2012 m.s.

I finally found a way to rid myself of my horrible dream.

It all started when I was sixteen. Somebody at a party gave me some pills to swallow. Trance music was blasting the hotel room, the floors were shaking from the droning bass, the walls were caving in from the echo of the electric drums.

The dream began.

I was standing in a river of blood. People, naked, writhing in the damp dark murky red, howling with extreme pain. Body parts were hanging from the ceiling attached to wires.

And the children.

The children were facing me. Their black soulless eyes glaring into my very being, licking their thick red lips, baring sharp tiny teeth moving motorized cycles. Buzz saws.

And the things in the walls.

Yellow arms reaching out. Black elongated nails clawing out at anyone getting closer, tearing them apart. Whatever limbs, body parts they can grab, is tossed to the floors ahead.

Floors with mouths.

Mouths with sharp teeth, grinding, chewing flesh.

The children just laugh, giggle. Clap when a meal is done.

Entertained.

I awoke.

I was in a hospital bed. My arms were bound for my own protection. They said I overdosed. That wasn't the only thing I came away from that party with. My dream. For four years I have lived with it.

But now....

I have found a way to rid myself of it. It happened one day at work. I was cleaning the offices and Mrs. Gayle was working late. I forgot to put my gloves on and I accidentally touched her arm. Just brushed it.

She didn't say a word. She just looked at me. Traumatized. She got up from her chair, mumbled something about murderous children. She walked by me, caught in a daze. I heard the cars honking their horns. I ran to the window and saw Mrs. Gayle laying in the road, surrounded by onlookers and stopped traffic. One car in particular was parked on top of her.

But now....

I found a homeless man.

Just lying in an alley. Drunk. Dead drunk. Speaking incoherent words.

I smiled.

Finally.

I was riding myself of that bad dream.

I touched him. He sprung alive, arms waving, eyes rolling in the back of his head. Blood formed in the corners of his eyes and trickled down his face. He was dead.

I removed my hands.

I was free.

Free of that dream.....no more murderous children, or starving floors.

I could feel that I was free.

Suddenly, walking down a busy sidewalk, almost home, I passed out.

The others woke me minutes later. They said I must have had a conniption fit. That wasn’t all that was happening.

I was dreaming again.

I had inherited that man in the alleys dreams.

Blood red dreams.

OLD WOODENHEAD A PLAY IN TWO ACTS copyright 2012 m.s.

                                                                CHARACTERS

JOE : Latin -American, former thief, turned bartender

NAT: Childhood friend of Joe, just out of jail

VERA: Joe 's naive girlfriend

LOUIE: Father figure to Joe and Nat

PLACE: FRANKIE'S BAR, IN THE DEEP SOUTH

TIME: PRESENT

OLD WOODENHEAD

ACT ONE

It's closing time.

A run down bar room is the setting. The place is a mess. Chairs are turned over, glasses are scattered across four small tables, food, packages and crumbs litter the floor. Vera has a broom trying sweep, getting more and more frustrated.

VERA

REALLY?

(Stops sweeping, looking down at the floor)

A HOT DOG? PIGS. NOTHING BUT PIGS.

(Shakes her head, continues sweeping.

JOE

(Offstage)

WHAT ARE YOU GOING ON ABOUT?

MARK SLADE

VERA

THE PEOPLE THAT COME INTO THIS PLACE.

HORRIBLE MESS!

JOE

(Offstage)

WELL, IT IS A BAR.

VERA

(Stops sweeping. She looks behind her

to the left.)

THAT DOESN'T MEAN YOU HAVE TO

FORGET YOUR HUMAN.

JOE

(Makes his entrance from the right.

He throws his arms around Vera's waist,

she let's out a small surprised whimper.)

PEOPLE JUST WANT TO HAVE A GOOD

TIME IS ALL. FORGET THEIR TROUBLES.

(Joe kisses Vera's neck.)

OLD WOODENHEAD

VERA

(Enjoying the moment.)

OH, PLEASE. EVEN

SOME ANIMALS KEEP THEIR CAGES

CLEAN.

JOE

(Resting his head on her shoulder.)

YOU'RE JUST NOT USED TO THIS

ENVIROMENT.

VERA

(Laughing.)

I'M NOT A LITTLE

GIRL LOCKED AWAY IN HER ROOM.

I'VE BEEN AROUND SOME.

JOE

OOOO...

HAVE YOU REALLY?

MARK SLADE

VERA

(Taking his arms from her waist.)

GET OFF. GOT TO

FINISH HERE.

JOE

UH. BABY?

VERA

YES?

JOE

YOU DON'T HAVE

TO FINISH. I'LL

DO IT.

VERA

BUT FRANKIE

TOLD ME THIS WAS

APART OF MY JOB.

OLD WOODENHEAD

JOE

( Gingerly taking the broom

from Vera.)

I KNOW WHAT FRANKIE

SAID.

(Pause.)

NOW I'M SAYIN'...

GO ON HOME. REST

THOSE PREATTY EYES.

VERA

(Cocks her head to one side)

YOU HAVE BUSINESS...?

JOE

(Shrugs.)

YEAH.

MARK SLADE

VERA

(Folding her arms,

pursing her lips.)

WITH NAT, I SUPPOSE?

JOE

SURE.

VERA

I DON'T THINK YOU

SHOULD MESS WITH HIM,JOE.

JOE

C'MON.

(Pause.)

NAT'S AN OLD FRIEND.

WE GREW UP TOGETHER.

DON'T BE JELOUS.

OLD WOODENHEAD

VERA

I'M NOT JELOUS. YOU SHOULDN'T

BE AROUND A JAILBIRD.

JOE

DON'T JUDGE,VERA

NAT JUST HAD

SOME BAD LUCK.

VERA

HE WENT TO JAIL FOR BEING A

THEIF.

JOE

WHO TOLD YOU THAT?

(Pause.)

VERA

FRANKIE DID.

MARK SLADE

JOE

THAT OLD BUZZARD NEEDS

TO KEEP HIS MOUTH SHUT.

VERA

FRANKIE SAID HE SPENT THE

LAST FOUR YEARS IN JAIL

FOR ASSULTING A WOMAN AND STEALING

HER STUFF FROM HER APARTMENT.

JOE

HE DIDN'T ASSULT HER,ALRIGHT?

VERA

HE HIT HER OVER THE HEAD!

JOE

NO! IT WASN'T HIM....

(Stops talking. Clears his throat.)

OLD WOODENHEAD

VERA

HOW DO YOU KNOW?

(Pause.)

JOE

I BELIEVE WHAT HE SAYS.

VERA

YOU NEED TO STAY

AWAY FROM HIM.

JOE

YOU NEVER MET THE

GUY AND ALREADY JUDGIN' HIM?

VERA

(Bewildered.)

OKAY. YOUR'E RIGHT.

I'LL WAIT AND MEET HIM.

MARK SLADE

JOE

NOT TONIGHT, BABE. I GOT--

VERA

I KNOW. I KNOW. BUSINESS.

(Begins to walk away. Stops, turns to Joe.)

YOU ARE COMING TO THE COOKOUT SATURDAY, AREN'T YOU?

JOE

VERA. YOUR OLD MAN DON'T LIKE ME.

NO. I'M NOT COMING.

VERA

(Shocked.)

DADDY DOES LIKE YOU.

JOE

(Laughing.)

NO, BABE. DADDY HATES

GREASERS.

OLD WOODENHEAD

VERA

YOU'RE NOT A GREASER. AND

DADDY DOES NOT HATE PEOPLE.

(Pause.)

JOE

YOU DON'T GET IT.

(Pause.)

I'M FROM THE WRONG

SIDE OF TOWN! HE'S ALWAYS BEEN

AT THE END OF THE RAINBOW

SITTIN' ON A POT OF GOLD, OKAY?

I DON'T FIT IN HIS

LIFE AGENDA.

(Shrugs, smiles.)

I JUST DON'T.

I'M OKAY WITH

THAT.

MARK SLADE

VERA

YOUR'E BEING SILLY. YOUR'E COMING

SATURDAY.

JOE

(Sighs)

CAN'T WE TALK ABOUT THIS LATER?

(Awkward pause.)

VERA

WHY ARE YOU SHOOING ME OUT?

JOE

I'M NOT.

VERA

YOU DON'T WANT ME TO MEET

HIM. WHY?

OLD WOODENHEAD

JOE

THAT'S NOT TRUE. I WANT YOU TO GO HOME.

YOU'VE HAD A HARD NIGHT. I'M THE BOSS TONIGHT.

AND WHEN FRANKIE'S NOT HERE, I'M THE BOSS.

GO HOME.

VERA

YOU ARE KEEPING ME FROM MEETING

NAT. I WANT TO KNOW WHY.

JOE

I'M NOT KEEPING YOU---

WILL YOU QUIT ARGUING AND GO

THE HELL HOME!

VERA

YOU ARE....WHAT'S THE

REASON---

MARK SLADE

JOE

YOU'LL MEET HIM IN GOOD TIME.

NOW GET!

VERA

I'M NOT LEAVING!

(Joe grabs Vera by the elbow and pulls her to the

exit.)

YOUR'E HURTING ME!

JOE

I'LL DO MORE THAN THAT IF YOU DON'T

GET OUT OF HERE!

(Joe pushes her, Vera falls to the floor hard, sobbing.)

VERA

(Whispering.)

YOU BASTARD...

OLD WOODENHEAD

JOE

(Puts his head in his hands. Then he

looks up, watching her cry.)

I'M SORRY, VERA.

VERA

(Continuing to sob lowly.)

FUCK YOU...YOUR'E

NOT SORRY.

YOUR'E A BASTARD......

(Joe helps Vera up. She shakes him off.)

YOUR'E A SORRY BASTARD.

MARK SLADE

JOE

I KNOW I AM. VERA...

I DON'T KNOW WHAT CAME

OVER ME. I'M SORRY.

YOU GOTTA UNDERSTAND.

YOU TOUCHED ON TWO

SUBJECTS.....YOU KNOW?

I'M TOUCHY ABOUT

FRIENDSHIP.......AND CLASS.

VERA

(Bites her lower lip.)

YOU HAVE CLASS.

JOE

(Slight laugh.)

NO, HONEY. I MEAN...

FORGET IT.

WE'RE BOTH TIRED, IN A MOOD.

I'M SORRY I PUSHED YOU.

OLD WOODENHEAD

(Joe offers his hand. Vera hesitates, takes it.)

VERA

(Smiles.)

I'M SORRY, TOO.

I KEPT PUSHING YOUR BUTTONS.

(Joe leans in, gives Vera a prolonged kiss. He rests his forehead on hers.)

JOE

YOU BETTER GO.

(Pause.

Vera pulls away, looks at Joe

a moment.)

VERA

OKAY. CALL

ME LATER?

MARK SLADE

JOE

YOU BET.

(He watches Vera slowly walk away.)

Lights dim, total darkness.

OLD WOODENHEAD

ACT TWO

Lights grow brighter on stage. Joe is sitting at a table. The bar room has been cleaned up, chairs now sit on all the tables except where Joe is sitting. He has three glasses in front of him and a bottle of Absinthe. He is lost in thought, holding a small wooden carving of a man's face in his hands, turning it over and over. He hears the door open. He is alert now. Joe stands, places the wooden carving in the pocket of his jeans.

Nat appears, leaning against the wall. He is short very thin, wearing wire rimmed glasses, a turtle neck and a blazer. Slowly, a smile crosses Nat's face.

NAT

SO THIS IS WHAT YOU'VE BEEN UP TO, BOY?

JOE

BETTER THAN WATCHIN' THE FLIES ON THE WALLS.

(Pause.)

SO, NAT, YOU MEET ANY INTERESTING PEOPLE IN LOCK UP?

MARK SLADE

NAT

OH. YEAH.

(Pause.)

LOTS OF INNOCENTS. ONE GUY WHO KEPT

TRYIN' TO CONVINCE EVERYONE HE WAS THE QUEEN

OF ENGLAND, SHOWING HIS PANTALOOMS TO EVERYBODY.

WANTING TO INDAIN WRESTLE .

JOE

YOU TAKE HIM UP ON THAT?

NAT

(Shakes his head slowly.)

DIDN'T HAVE TIME FOR HIM.

(Pause.)

TOO BUSY MAKING PLANS FOR THE REAL WORLD.

OLD WOODENHEAD

JOE

YOU GONNA STAND THERE ALL NIGHT?

OR ARE YOU GOIN' TO SIT DOWN

AND HAVE A DRINK?

NAT

(Slowly ambles over to the table. Joe sits, pours a glass.)

I'M GONNA HAVE SEVERAL DRINKS...

AS MANY AS IT TAKES TO CLEAR MY MIND IN THE RIGHT

DIRECTION.

JOE

YOU AIN'T NEVER BEEN IN THE RIGHT

DIRECTION,NAT. REMEMBER FATHER THOMAS'

SPEECH TO YOU?

(Slides glass to him.)

NAT

THE OLD PERV WAS JUST MAD I DIDN'T PUT OUT FOR

HIM LIKE LITTLE JACKIE.

MARK SLADE

NAT

(Takes a large gulp, makes a face.)

SEE WHAT HAPPENED TO HIM? SELLING HIS ASS TO

OLD MEN ON TWENTY-THIRD STREET.

JOE

(Sipping his drink.)

JACKIE HAS A HABBIT TO BOOT.

NAT

BOY'S WEAK. THAT'S ALL.

ALWAYS BEEN WEAK.

(Pause.)

HOW'S LIFE TREATIN' YOU, JO-JO?

JOE

BEAUTIFUL.

OLD WOODENHEAD

NAT

THAT'S ALL YOU CAN SAY?

BEAUTIFUL?

JOE

WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO SAY?

GIVE YOU A RUN DOWN OF DAY BY DAY

ACTION REPORT FOR THE LAST FOUR YEARS?

NAT

DO YOU REMEMBER GINA WHO LIVED

OUT ON KING'S ROAD?

JOE

(Uninterested.)

YEAH.

MARK SLADE

NAT

THOUGHT I SAW HER WALKING

AROUND FIFTH AND DEEDS. HER

HAIR ALWAYS SMELLED

LIKE PEACHES. NICE GIRL. WE

USED TO RIDE HER ROAD ALL HOURS...

GET A TWELVE PACK.

WHO'S GIRL WAS SHE? MINE OR YOURS?

JOE

DIDN'T MATTER.

NAT

(Smiling.)

YEAH. TRUE. WE SHARED HER.

(Pause.)

THAT'S WHAT I WANT, JO-JO.

OLD WOODENHEAD

JOE

WHAT?

GINA? I DON'T KNOW

WHERE THAT CHICK IS?

NAT

NO, DUMMY!

I WANT DEPTH!

STORIES. STORIES LIKE THAT.

MEMORIES FROM THE LAST FOUR

YEARS. THAT'S WHAT I WANT FROM

YOU. I WAS SORTA ROBBED....

JOE

YOU WAS NOT ROBBED.

(Pause.)

MARK SLADE

NAT

OH. NO. BOY.

(Pause.)

I WAS ROBBED. AND...

TONIGHT...

(Nat takes a snub-nose .32 hand

gun from his blazer pocket, lays it on the table.)

YOU'RE GONNA HELP ME.

(Joe is disturbed by the gun. He pushes the barrel

the opposite direction.)

YEAH.

YOU ARE GONNA GET THOSE FOUR

YEARS BACK FOR ME.

JOE

(Sighs.)

I DON'T KNOW, NAT.

OLD WOODENHEAD

NAT

OH. YOU KNOW, JO-JO.

JOE

DO WE HAVE TO DO THIS?

NAT

(Picks up the gun.)

WE COME THIS FAR.

YOU OWE ME.

(Pause.)

IT'S GOT TO BE DONE.

JOE

HOW DO YOU KNOW IT WAS HIM?

NAT

THAT RUMMIE WAS SUPPOSE TO

BE THERE WITH US. IT WAS HIM WHO TOLD THE COPS.

MARK SLADE

JOE

HE DIDN'T SHOW. I KNOW. BUT HE DID IT TO US BEFORE.

NAT

I WAS CAUGHT RED HANDED WITH

THAT WOMAN'S JEWLERY, JO-JO.

WHEN THE COPS CAUGHT ME OUTSIDE THE HOUSE,

YOU RAN THE OTHER WAY.

(Pause.)

THEY NEVER SAW YOU.

I NEVER TOLD YOU WERE WITH ME.

JOE

I'VE BEEN GRATEFUL.

NAT

YOU GONNA BE EVEN MORE GRATEFUL

TONIGHT BY TAKING CARE OF THIS.

OLD WOODENHEAD

JOE

YOU SURE IT WAS LOUIE THAT WAS THE RAT?

NAT

YOU WERE ONE OF THE

ONES THAT CONVENCED ME.

DID HE OR DIDN'T HE?

(PAUSE.)

JOE

YEAH. SURE.

IT WAS HIM.

NAT

I BET HE DRANK UP THE MONEY THE

COPS GAVE HIM FOR THE INFO.

MARK SLADE

JOE

WHEN'S HE GETTIN' HERE?

NAT

SOON.

JOE

WE GOTTA DO THIS?

NAT

WE GOTTA DO IT.

(Pause,)

NO CHOICE.

JOE

AND YOU GET WHAT OUTTA THIS?

OLD WOODENHEAD

NAT

PEACE OF MIND.

JOE

WHAT ELSE?

NAT

RESPECT.

JOE

FROM THE CORROLLA FAMILY?

NAT

YOU BET.

HE RATTED OUT THEIR

GUYS TOO.

MARK SLADE

JOE

YEAH.

(Pause.)

NAT

YOU DON'T SOUND CONVINCED.

JOE

DOES IT MATTER?

LIKE YOU SAY.

I OWE YOU.

NAT

GLAD YOU SEE IT MY WAY.

JOE

YOUR WAY....

OR NO WAY.

LIKE IT'S ALWAYS BEEN.

OLD WOODENHEAD

NAT

WAS THAT YOUR GIRL THAT LEFT HERE?

JOE

YOU SAW HER?

(Pause.)

YOU TALK TO HER?

NAT

SAW HER GET IN THE CAR.

KINDA YOUNG.

JOE

SHE'S TWENTY-TWO

NAT

OH.

YEAH.

SHE KNOW ABOUT WHAT YOU DO?

MARK SLADE

JOE

USED TO DO.

NAT

(Laughs heartily.)

SURE, JO-JO.

JOE

SHE ONLY KNOWS

WHAT I TELL HER.

NAT

THIS IS FRANKIE'S PLACE. HUH?

JOE

IT'S THE OLD BUZZARD'S.

OLD WOODENHEAD

NAT

FRANKIE WAS A GOOD SCOUT AT ONE TIME.

SIZING UP BANKS. YOU CAN NEVER REALLY SHAKE SOME

TYPES OF PEOPLE.

JOE

AND WHAT TYPES DO YOU MEAN?

NAT

PEOPLE YOU USED TO RUN AROUND WITH

IN THE OLDEN DAYS.

(Pause.)

YOUR GIRL MAY HAVE HEARD SOME STORIES---

JOE

WHAT ARE YOU SAYIN'?

YOU'LL TELL HER ABOUT THE NIGHT WE ROBBED

THAT OLD RICH WOMAN AND YOU GOT CAUGHT, I DIDN'T?

MARK SLADE

NAT

DON'T GET SNIPPY, JO-JO.

I'M NOT THE ONE WHO CLUBBED THAT

OLD LADY WITH A TIRE IRON. I DID GET THE BLAME THOUGH.

JOE

I SAID I WAS GRATEFUL, OKAY.

NAT

YOUR GONNA BE EVEN

MORE GRATEFUL TONIGHT.

(Pause.)

(Joe takes the wood carving from his pocket, looks at it.)

OH SHIT.

(Nat laughs.)

OLD WOODENHEAD

NAT

YOU STILL SCREW AROUND WITH

THAT DAMN THING? THOUGHT

YOU'D OUTGROWN THAT BAD LUCK

CRAP BY NOW.

JOE

THIS THING YOU REFER TO AS CRAP,

SAVED MY FATHER'S LFE WHEN HE FELL

OFF A BUILDING TWENTY YEARS AGO

WHEN HE WAS A FORMAN.

(Pause.)

BROKE EVERY BONE IN HIS BODY,

BUT HE HAD OLD WOODENHEAD

HERE WITH HIM.

MARK SLADE

NAT

THAT DAMN THING DIDN'T DO ANYTHING.

THERE'S NO SUCH THING AS BAD LUCK...

OR GOOD LUCK.

JOE

(Sighs. Places the carving in his shirt pocket.)

YOU SAY THAT BECAUSE YOUR BITTER.

NAT

BITTER ABOUT WHAT? A STUPID

PIECE OF WOOD?

JOE

(Shakes his head.)

NEVER HAVING ANYTHING.

GOOD LUCK, FATHER, MOTHER,

MONEY, CLOTHES....

OLD WOODENHEAD

NAT

I'VE HAD MONEY!

AND CLOTHES!

JOE

ONLY IF ONE OF THE CORROLLA'S

GAVE IT TO YOU.

NAT

I EARNED EVERY PENNY!

JOE

STEALING TOASTERS IS NOT

WORK.

MARK SLADE

NAT

I GUESS YOU'VE CHANGED?

(Pause.)

DON'T DO ANYTHING CRIMINAL, AS THEY SAY?

JOE

YEAH.

NAT

OLD WOODENHEAD HAS YOUR BACK, EH?

JOE

(Smiling.)

ALWAYS.

NAT

GIVE ME ANOTHER DRINK.

MARK SLADE

JOE

(Pouring another glass.)

YOU REALLY GOING THROUGH WITH THIS?

NAT

(Snatches the glass from Joe.)

WHAT'S THE MATTER WITH YOU?

SOUND LIKE A VIRGIN ON HER WEDDING NIGHT.

YEAH. GOTTA DO IT.

(Gulping down the drink.)

NO CHOICE.

YOU OWE ME.

JOE

YOU KEEP SAYING THAT.

CHANGE THE FUCKING RECORD.

OLD WOODENHEAD

NAT

YOU SAID HE WAS THE ONE

THAT HELPED SEND ME

UP THE RIVER.

JOE

DID I?

(Pause. Avoiding Nat's

eyes.)

THAT WAS FOUR YEARS AGO.

I DON'T REMEMBER.

NAT

YOU KNOW YOU SAID IT.

JOE

REMEMBER WHEN WE WERE

KIDS? GO DOWN TO THE

QUARRY AND CATCH FROGS?

MARK SLADE

NAT

YEAH.

(Laughing.)

YOUR OLD MAN WOULD COOK 'EM UP

FOR US. BURN 'EM EVERYTIME.

JOE

YEAH.

(Both sit there in a long silence, thinking of those days.

The door opens and closes. Louie, an old short stout man wearing a rain coat

enters. He looks sickly, run down. His gray beard is uneven.

His hair is still combed over a widening bald spot. He stands there,

nervous and a bit lost.

Joe and Nat say nothing at first. Just stare at him.)

JOE

LOUIE.

(Louie smiles uneasy.)

OLD WOODENHEAD

JOE

C'MON OVER HERE. HAVE

A DRINK.

LOUIE

(Walks to the table, takes the third chair between them.)

NAW. CAN'T DRINK LIKE I USED TO. BAD KIDNEYS,

ULCERS...LEGS...YOU NAME IT.

NAT

YOUR FALLING APART, LOUIE.

BETTER GET SOME DUCT TAPE, FIX

YOU UP!

(Joe and Nat burst into laughter.)

LOUIE

(Dismissive.)

AIN'T CHANGED A BIT,

NAT. STILL A CUT UP.

MARK SLADE

NAT

NO OTHER WAY TO BE.

LOUIE

KNOWN THE TWO OF SINCE YOU

WERE KIDS.

NAT

AND YOU WERE OLD THEN!

(Again a rupture of laughter from Joe

and Nat.)

LOUIE

STILL CRACKIN' JOKES.

(Pause.)

SO.

HOW'S THE TWO OF YOU BEEN?

OLD WOODENHEAD

NAT

OKAY, LOUIE.

LOOKS LIKE JO-JO

HERE IS DOING GOOD.

LOUIE

THIS YOUR PLACE, JOE?

JOE

(Shakes his head.)

FRANKIE GARNER'S.

LOUIE

(Makes a face like he smelled

something bad.)

THAT OLD BUZZARD STILL AROUND?

HE WAS A BASTARD WHEN WE WORKED COTTON STREET

FOR DOMINIC CORROLLA. ALWAYS SKIMMIN'.

MARK SLADE

LOUIE

(Sighs, looks around the bar.)

I GUESS DOMINIC'S SONS GAVE

HIM THIS PLACE. THINGS AIN'T

THE SAME ON THE STREET SINCE DOMINIC

DIED. HE KNEW HOW TO REWARD SOMEBODY.

HE ALSO KNEW HOW TO RID THE GAME OF RATS.

NAT

(Cutting his eyes at Joe.)

HE DID, DID HE?

LOUIE

YOU BET!

NO SON OF BITCH CAME IN

AT THE TOP, YOU HAD EARN IT.

START AT THE BOTTOM. BE HONEST.

EARN TRUST. TRUSY IS VERY IMPORTANT.

OLD WOODENHEAD

NAT

HEAR THAT, JO-JO.

(Pause.)

TRUST IS VERY IMPORTANT.

LOUIE

THE CORROLLA'S TRUSTED ME.

LOOKED AFTER ME, I LOOKED AFTER

THEM. UNTIL THAT NITWIT

CASEY TOOK OVER.

WHAT KIND OF NAME IS CASEY FOR A

MAN ANYWAY?

JOE

WORKED FOR CASEY AT THE BAT.

MARK SLADE

LOUIE

BAH!

DON'T TALK ABOUT BASEBALL

TO ME. IT AIN'T THE SAME. THEY DON'T EVEN

TO HIT THE BALL ANYMORE.

NAT

YOU AND THE CORROLLA'S NOT ON

THE OUTS ARE YOU, LOUIE.

LOUIE

(Shrugs.)

JUST A LITTLE

MISUNDERSTANDING.

THAT'S ALL.

NAT

I CAN'T IMAGINE WHAT IT

COULD BE ABOUT.

OLD WOODENHEAD

LOUIE

(To Joe.)

WHAT'S HE ON ABOUT?

JOE

(Getting bored.)

I DON'T KNOW.

(Along pause.)

LOUIE

OH.

YOU BOYS WERE

GREAT LITTLE THEIVES.

MAN.

I FOUND YOU TWO TRYIN'

TO BREAK INTO VENDING

MACHINES IN FRONT OF THE

MOTEL SIX.

MARK SLADE

LOUIE

WHAT THE HELL WERE TWO

BUYIN' WITH CHANGE? GUM?

JOE

POT.

(Pause.)

LOUIE

(Making a face.)

YOUR DEALER TOOK QUARTERS?

NAT

OUR DEALER TOOK MOONPIES

AND RC COLA.

IT WAS MY COUSIN DARRYL.

LOUIE

GLAD I TOOK YOU AWAY

FROM THAT LIFE.

OLD WOODENHEAD

NAT

MMM.

AND WHAT A LIFE THAT IS

NOW.

LOUIE

YOU BOYS DID

ALRIGHT BY ME.

NAT

BEING A THEIF SURE IS GRAND.

LOUIE

SURE.

BE SARCASTIC. BUT IT KEPT

YOU FROM MIXING WITH

THE WRONG SORT.

MARK SLADE

NAT

LOUIE...

YOU WERE THE WRONG

SORT.

LOUIE

(To Joe.)

WHY ALL THE VENOM?

JOE

(Lights a cigarette.)

HE'S GOT A BEEF WITH YOU.

LOUIE

GO FORBID.

NAT HAS A BEEF.

(Pause.)

NOT MY FAULT

YOU WENT TO JAIL,

NAT.

OLD WOODENHEAD

(Joe looks at Nat cautiously. Then at Louie. He stands slowly, swallows hard.)

LOUIE

I ONLY LOOKED AFTER YOU AS IF

YOU WERE MY OWN SON.

NAT

YOU ALSO MADE US TAKE ALL

THE RISK WHILE YOU REAPED THE REWARDS.

LOUIE

BIG WORD FOR YOU.

REAPED.

BEEN READIN' WHILE YOU

WERE IN THE SLAMMER.

YOU'D A DIED OUT ON THE STREET.

YOU KNOW IT.

MARK SLADE

(Nat takes out the .32 from his blazer pocket, lays it

on the table.)

LOUIE

I SEE.

(Pause.)

STILL HOLDIN' IT AGAINST THE WORLD,NAT?

NAT

(Shakes his head.)

NAW.

JUST AGAINST YOU.

REMEMBER THOSE TIMES WHEN ME AND

JOE WOULD COME BACK EMPTY HANDED?

YOU'D BEAT US WITH THAT EAGLE-HEADED CANE.

OLD WOODENHEAD

LOUIE

IT WAS FOR YOUR OWN GOOD.

YOU LEARNED FROM ME.

MADE YOU TOUGH.

NAT

GLAD WE DIDN'T STICK WITH YOU.

WE WOULD'VE LEARNED TO RAT ON

PEOPLE.

LOUIE

YOU KNOW I DON'T

RAT--

NAT

WHAT ABOUT ME?

LOUIE

WHAT ABOUT YOU?

MARK SLADE

NAT

AUGUST FIFTH, ALMOST FIVE YEARS AGO?

LOUIE

I DON'T KNOW---

(Pause. Fear crosses his face.)

NO.

NAT....YOU GOTTA

BELIEVE ME.

I DIDN'T DO IT.

(Joe walks up behind Louie, holding

something behind his back.)

NAT

LOUIE...

YOU SOLD ME OUT FOR CHEAP BOOZE AND

GOD HAS NOT FORGIVEN YOU FOR IT.

OLD WOODENHEAD

(Joe grabs Louie by what little hair he has left

and pulls his head back. He produces a black boot knife

and slices Louie's neck from right to left. Louie screams out,

reaches up for Joe. Joe lets go and stumbles backwards. Louie

gurgles, falls out of his chair, knocking it over. He begins crawling across

the floor towards the exit. Blood drains to the floor. His hands and knees

leave bloody prints.

Joe and Nat watch Louie for a few seconds. Nat runs up in front

of Louie, fires one shot in his forehead.

Louie immediately falls on his face.

He's dead.)

NAT

WHAT'D YOU DO THAT FOR?

MARK SLADE

JOE

(Realizes what he's done. Does a double take.)

I HAD TO DO SOMETHIN'!

(Pause.)

YOU WERE JUST BAITIN' HIM.

NAT

(Goes back to the table. Wearily sits.

He lays the gun on the table, pours a drink.)

GOD THIS ABSINTHE SUCKS.

(He swallows it all down in one gulp. Makes a face.)

WHY'D YOU START DRINKING THIS SHIT?

JOE

(Confused.)

HE'S DEAD.

NAT

WHY'D YOU START DRINKIN' THIS,JO-JO?

OLD WOODENHEAD

JOE

I CAN'T BELIEVE WE DID THIS.

NAT

HEY!

I'M ASKING YOU A QUESTION!

(Pause.)

WHY DID YOU START DRINKING THIS CRAP?

JOE

(Looks at Nat, blinks twice.)

I LIKE IT.

NAT

(A revelation.)

OH.

JOE

(Exiting right)

I'LL GET THE TARP.

MARK SLADE

NAT

(Picks up the bottle, looking at it.)

YOU REALLY LIKE THIS?

(Joe enters again, carrying a blue tarp.)

JOE

(On his hands and knees next to Louie,

spreading the tarp.)

COME HELP ME.

NAT

I DON'T WANT TO.

JOE

YOU DON'T WANT TO.

(Pause.)

OLD WOODENHEAD

NAT

YEAH.

(Pause.)

I DON'T WANT TO.

JOE

(Standing.)

YOU WANTED MY HELP.

NAT

YOU WANTED MY HELP.

JOE

WHAT'RE YOU TALKIN' ABOUT?

YOU WANTED TO GET EVEN WITH--

NAT

YOU!

YOU!

YOU!

YOU!

MARK SLADE

NAT

(Pause.)

(Whispering.)

YOU.....

(Pause.)

YOU WANTED ME TO HELP YOU. TO.

TELL. THE. TRUTH.

(Pause.)

JOE

BY KILLING SOMEONE.

NAT

BY GETTING RID OF

A PURVEYOR OF LIES.

OPEN YOUR EYES ....

YOU CAN SEE THE LIGHT

NOW, I'M SURE OF IT.

JOE

WHAT LIES AM I GUILTY OF?

OLD WOODENHEAD

NAT

OUR FRIENDSHIP.

BUT...

MORE IMPORTANTLY, THAT

NIGHT I GOT CAUGHT.

JOE

I'M SORRY. I'M SORRY I LEFT YOU.

I'M SORRY FOR NOT COMING OUT AND SAYING

I WAS APART OF THE ROBBERIES.

I HAVE CHANGED BECAUSE OF THAT NIGHT---

NAT

(Ushering a hand towards Louie.)

HAVE YOU CHANGED?

MURDER IS A WHOLE LOT WORSE THAN

THEIVERY.

AT LEAST...

MARK SLADE

NAT

BY SOCIETY STANDARDS.

TO ME....

SELLING OUT YOUR FRIEND

IS A LOT WORSE. IT'S REPREHENSIBLE.

JOE

I DIDN'T SELL YOU OUT.

NAT

THEY CAUGHT ME TOO QUICK.

JOE

COINCENIDENCE.

NAT

PREMEDITATED.

(Pause.)

YOU MURDERED MY SOUL.

OLD WOODENHEAD

JOE

WHAT'S YOUR VENGENCE THEN?

NAT

(Spreading his arms, waving his hands.)

ALL OF THIS.

I KNEW IT WASN'T

LOUIE THAT TOLD THE COPS OF OUR

LITTLE GAME OF BURGULRIES AROUND TOWN.

I FIGURED IT OUT SITTING IN COUNTY.

I ALSO KNEW, SITTING IN STATE PRISON, I COULD

DRAG YOU INTO HELL.

I'VE DRAGGED YOU TO THE BOTTOM.

(Joe realizes something. He pats himself down.)

WHAT?

(Annoyed by this.)

WHAT IS IT?!

MARK SLADE

JOE

(Astonished.)

I LOST IT.

(Swallows hard.)

I LOST OLD WOODENHEAD.

(Panics.)

I LOST IT!

NAT

OH.

YEAH.

AIN'T THAT SOMETHIN'.

(Joe looks down. He sees it. He slowly eases

down to his knees. He puts a hand around Louie's

dead body. He retrieves the wood carving. Shows

it to Nat.

Nat laughs.)

OLD WOODENHEAD

NAT

THAT'S ROTTEN LUCK...

IT FELL INSIDE LOUIE'S COAT AND SHIRT...

THAT'S RICH.

(The door slams shut. It catches Joe and Nat's attention.

Vera appears, hand over mouth gasping, eyes bigger than two silver

dollars. Nat begins to laugh.)

JOE

VERA...

(Her eyes dart back and forth between the body, Joe, and Nat.)

I CAN EXPLAIN, VERA....

(Vera turns, bolts. The door slams shut. Laughter grows louder.)

VERA!

MARK SLADE

JOE

WAIT!

(Joe runs off, the door slams shut.)

(Offstage)

VERA! COME BACK!

(Lights dim. Laughter resonates as the lights fade to

black.)

END OF PLAY.