Scene 6
I think I’m ready to start writing again. It’s been awhile, and quite the whirlwind adventure for me thus far, but I’m ready to start creating again. So if you see updates on here pertaining to my plays, feel free to read and critique or just ignore. :)
Margot:
Dear Norton,
I never thought I’d have the courage to write to you again. To be more frank, I never thought I wanted to find that courage, but alas, I did and it’s happening. I don’t expect you to write back. Hell, I don’t even expect you to read it, but these words need to be documented in some form, and since neither of us are on any type of speaking terms, I figured I’d open up the line of communication through the written word.
Anyhow, I wanted you to know that I will never regret the time we spent together. Much like the courage I found to write you this letter, you also gave me courage. The courage to own my own feelings again. You gave me the courage to feel again, something I was avoiding for a long time. And while not all of those feelings were pleasant, they were all still necessary to my growth as a human being - in the most general sense. So thank you.
Since I am being very frank with this letter, and subsequently feeling braver than I usually am, I wanted to admit this to you: I was ready to give you my heart. I think you know that, but I don’t think I was ready to admit it then. I’m not saying I was ready to rush in the mad throes of love or anything, but I felt prepared to start the slippery spiral of a relationship with you. I understand that you didn’t feel the same, that was obvious considering how things so abruptly ended. But I felt you needed to know, that I was ready, I may not have been able to show you that entirely at every moment, but I did want it more than anything.
I also wanted you to know that you our time together will always be a fond memory, and I do wish you the best.
I just wish you could’ve been as honest with me about your feelings as I’ve always been about mine. I wasn’t always upfront, but I was always honest. Conversely you’ve always been upfront, but not always forthcoming. I wish we could’ve met in the middle. However, it was not exactly meant to be, and I respectfully resign from trying to make it something more than it was.
Thank you for the memories Norton, and thank you for the courage. I might not always want feelings, but you reminded me that they are there. More importantly, you reminded me how important they are.
I hope you enjoy the fact that you’ve received a letter, since they are so uncommon these days, and I hope you look back on our time together fondly as well.
With the greatest admiration,
Margot St. Peter
Margot: I just miss you, okay? It doesn’t mean I’m in love with you, or that I’m clingy, it just means I haven’t seen you in awhile and I’d really like that to change. I’m tired of sitting around pretending that I don’t or that it’s wrong that I do. I developed an attachment. I tried to deny it. I tried to pretend it wasn’t real. I tried to pretend that I could be casual, but I don’t know how to pretend any of those things. I just wanted you to be comfortable and I didn’t want to scare you away, so I build a sort of cage around my feelings. I didn’t want to inundate you too soon with how I felt, so I was aloof about everything. But I care about you. I don’t know how or when that happened, but it happened, and I don’t expect you to deal with it if you can’t, but it’s real and I need you to know that. It really truly hurts too much to pretend anything but is true for me. So, I miss you, and as much as I want you to miss me too, I know you probably never do. Which really sucks you know because I don’t know how I got so invested in something so completely one sided, but I guess it’s not something you can exactly plan or plan around.
(Silence)
If you could say something…Anything really.
Norton: I don’t understand how you just decide people’s emotions for them.
Margot: Trial and error in dealing with people I guess.
Norton: People don’t fit in boxes like that Margot. People aren’t just cut, print, and dry. You can’t go around assuming people’s feelings just because they don’t act like how they’re “supposed” to act. How am I “supposed” to act anyway? Is there a manual for this type of relationship because I must of have missed that at the orientation for this relationship.
Margot: I know it’s just…You left me alone too long.
Norton: And you need to know how to handle that.
(Silence)
That’s not what you expected to hear. You expected me to just cave.
Margot: Not exactly…
Norton: Yes you did. You had this entire conversation of liberation mapped out in your mind, you always do. And I’m here to tell you, that I am never going to be that person in your mind.
Margot: I know that…
Norton (interrupts): You understand that, but you don’t know, because you keep on trying to fit me into your image in your head, and I’m here to remind you that you can’t. We’re not an idea of a relationship, and we’re never going to live up to that idea you have in your head. Can we be better than that idea? Maybe, maybe not. But we can also just forget that idea and be real. Do you really need the flourish and praise to know how I feel about you every second?
Margot: I thought I didn’t, but I honestly don’t know how you feel about me. And I keep feeling like you’ll find someone better.
Norton: There’s half the problem. I told you I like you, will I like you forever? I don’t know. But for now I like you and I don’t have the time to find that “someone better”, and I don’t want to because I like this. I’m not looking. And you need to stop telling yourself that you’re not the best.
Margot: What just happened?
Norton: Huh?
Margot: You. How do you always strike that balance?
Norton: Practice?
Margot: You don’t even know what I’m talking about.
Norton: Not even remotely.
Margot: How do you always manage to put me in my place and compliment in one breath? How is that even a thing?
Norton: Definitely practice.
Margot (chuckles): You’re ridiculous.
Norton: You’re pretty ridiculous too.
Retrouvailles?
“The happiness of meeting again after a long time.”
Boy: Hey
Girl: Hey
Boy: Well that was…unexpected.
Girl: How so?
Boy: Just as I said: it wasn’t what I was expecting.
(Silence)
Boy: Bye then.
Girl: That’s it?
Boy: Is there anything more?
Girl: I don’t know.
Boy: Neither do I.
Girl: You don’t want to wait and find out?
Boy: Not really, anticipation has a way of really killing the mood.
Girl: But isn’t that what makes life livable?
Boy: Try unbearable.
Girl: You’ve never been much for the unexpected.
Boy: Then there was you.
Girl: Then there was me…and even I was more predictable than you imagined.
Boy: Misimagined.
Girl: So you misimagined me, now what? Where do we go from here?You just give up when something doesn’t go the way you planned it in your head?
Boy: Not always, but in this case…
Girl: You don’t see the point.
Boy: You haven’t really given me one, as of late.
Girl: Does there have to be one? Does there always have to be a method or distinct rhythm in conversation? Does there have to be a resolution?
Boy: There should be.
Girl: Life doesn’t work that way. There is no definitive end to anything.
Boy: Death.
Girl: Well…yes…I suppose there’s always death…but that doesn’t ever really end anything does it? Our shells die,but some still remain even after death, especially to the living.
Boy: The living don’t determine death. Death determines the living. We are still on a very limited time frame, just waiting to die. Counting down the tedious hours and minutes until they burst and until we die.
Girl: That’s morbid.
Boy: It’s true.
Girl: It’s cynical, which is not the same as truth at all.
Boy: It’s close.
Girl: Not in this case. You’ve evaded long enough.
Boy: Evaded?
Girl: My question…is this it?
Boy: That wasn’t the question.
Girl: It’s close.
Boy: And yet different, farther away from the original intention.
Girl: Answer.
Boy: It doesn’t have to be.
Girl: I know, but is it?
Boy: Will you ever be how I imagined you?
Girl: How did you imagine this going today?
Boy: Who’s evasive now?
Girl: Not entirely, it might answer more than you think it will.
Boy: I imagined…you’ve always had this stupid smile on your face, from the moment I met you, and it’s something I’ll never quite get over, but I only see it when you’re being challenged or in the middle something you know you shouldn’t enjoy but end up enjoying very much. But it was the first thing I noticed about you from the first time we talked. It was like you knew something that I hadn’t quite caught onto yet. But then you’re around other people, and you have a different smile, a smile reserved just for them, but a smile that’s equally unforgettable. It’s so luminous and unique, and you just know the moment it starts spreading across your face that you’re happy to see them - like you’ve been waiting to do nothing else but be with them or around them….I want that smile. I’ve been looking forward to seeing that smile the entire time I’ve known you. That’s how I thought today would go, or at least I hoped. I need that smile.
Girl: But that’s not your smile. That’s not who I am with you.
Boy: I know, and it kills me.
Girl: I’m sorry to hear that.
Boy: I am too.
Girl: But there’s your answer too. I can never be who you imagined because I’m different with you. You’re not them, and they’re not you. I can’t give you a smile that doesn’t belong to you. And they will never get your smile because it only belongs to you. If you continue imagining me as I am with them, you’ll never be able to see how I am with you. You’ll always want something different, expect something different, and be disappointed every time.
Boy: Which do you like better?
Girl: Both. I don’t see the point in choosing. They are both me.
Boy: Which is better?
Girl: And you just answered my question.
Boy: What do you mean?
Girl: To think one side of a person is better or worse is an utterly absurd question, because they are of the same person. So the fact that you would ever want to choose answers every question I’ve ever had about this relationship. It was nice seeing you again.
Boy: Wait…I didn’t mean.
Girl: It doesn’t matter. I really hope you find your imagined romance. I really do.
(kisses his cheek).
Boy: I just wanted you to be happy to see me.
Girl: And I was, but it wasn’t enough for you. You wanted the fanfare and the that “smile”. You wanted things that aren’t special enough for you, and you can’t appreciate when they are especially for you. So I hope I can find someone who will make you see their little special somethings that are only for you. It really was nice seeing you, it’s never quite how anyone could expect it to be.
A crowded school hallway (kids are bustling in and out, weaving around one another, gossiping, talking, constant chatter, etc) , TARRYN and GEORGE sit on two blocks in front of the commotion as the following action occurs.
Tarryn
You told me last night that you thought I was beautiful.
George
Oh.
Tarryn
I need to know now if those were just drunk words.
GEORGE takes a moment before grabbing her face with both of his hands and pulling her close to his own face. For a moment, the tension rises - as if all the air has been sucked from the room - both characters are holding their breath. On the exhale, right before a kiss could occur, he tenderly releases her face, but they still remain remarkably close.
George
Just drunken words. I’m sorry if I made you feel special, it was a joke.
Breaking out of his trance - eye contact -, TARRYN hurriedly gathers her books and book bag.
Tarryn:
Don’t worry about it. You didn’t.
As she stands up a spotlight appears on her as the scene surrounding her seems to fade into the background. She talks in subtext to the audience.
Tarryn
I couldn’t tell him my truth after he told his. I didn’t want to risk coming off desperate or childish, so I said what he needed to hear.
A spot comes up where GEORGE is still sitting. He talks in subtext to the audience.
George
I so desperately wanted to kiss her in that moment. I could feel she wanted it too.
Tarryn/George
The moment was wrong, for both of us, I needed a clean break from the situation. From feeling. It never would’ve worked anyway.
Tarryn
He’s aloof and unappreciative of the world around him. All he cares about is the shallowness of society’s normalcies and stereotypes.
George
She cares about everything, so deeply, on a level I can’t even begin to get. I’ve never cared about much of anything…except what everyone else has thought of me.
Tarryn/George
His/Her reputation precedes him/her.
As the characters begin to recount the events of the night before they act out scene as they narrate it, the stage fills with people (classmates) partying, music is playing softly in the background, and everyone is holding Red Solo cups.
George
But for a moment, at that party, I could care less about what anyone thought of me. They could’ve thought I was the biggest loser on the face of this world and I would’ve just laughed at them, because it all seemed so stupid. Everything seemed clearer. The sky seemed clearer. The air felt clearer. My eyes felt like they were being opened for the very first time - which is weird because I was completely trashed - but it all seemed to make sense for a split second. And I saw her, for the very first time since we were kids, I saw her and I needed to tell her what I actually thought.
Tarryn
When he stumbled over to me at that party I thought he was coming over to puke on me or something, I didn’t know what to expect - he was pretty gone. I didn’t even know why I was at that party to begin with. I mean I was invited, but I didn’t know why I even went - I just did. So there I was standing at this huge party with people I didn’t even know, and didn’t really even like, and there comes George Mathers - stumbling over to me with surprising urgency and poise for a completely drunk human being - and he looked me straight in the eyes and said -
Tarryn/George:
“Tarryn Hanks, I think you’re the most beautiful girl at this party, possibly in this entire world. And I think more people should tell you that because we really should learn to acknowledge beauty when it’s right in front of us.”
Tarryn
And then he fell right on his face, which was odd because after he said it he seemed ten times more sober than when he began to say it.
George
There’s something about saying the truth out loud that really sobers up the mind, and makes you really aware of where you are. So I faked a fall, which was a stupid idea, but it was all I could think of right then. So I fell and almost broke my face, and when she helped me up I could’ve sworn I had been caught. There was something in her eyes that saw right through the bullshit of the fall, but the problem was it also made her doubt the words beforehand.
Tarryn:
I knew right then and there that it had to have been a trick or a prank or some incredulous joke designed to make me look like the fool so the moment after I helped him up I did the only thing I could think of.
George
She dumped her drink all over me. Which was definitely more embarrassing than fake falling.
Tarryn:
And then I left, I couldn’t take the insincerity of the situation any more, I needed to leave.
George
I would’ve chased her out of that party right then and there, but the scene I created because of everything made it harder for me to be anything but “drunk”. So I played the drunken idiot, smashed a few cans on my head, acted like a monkey, and then decided to go look for her - but she was long gone by then.
Lights shift back to spotlights as the characters resume speaking/narrating their subtext.
Tarryn
I tried to shake off the night. I blew off as much steam as I could on the drive home - blasting Metallica and Guns and Roses as loud as I could to drown out the emotions of the night. But when I got home I still couldn’t shake the feelings. I couldn’t shake how sincere he sounded when spoke or how insincere the fall was afterwards. Naothing “fit”, which really put a wrench in sleeping off the night when I got home, instead I stayed up all night doAing everything I could to get my mind off what happened, but I couldn’t. I needed to know the truth, so I decided that I was going to ask him at school the next day.
George
I was really surprised when she came up to me the next day, I almost swallowed my tongue I was so scared, but I acted as cool as I could.
Lights come up to the scene before, ambiance indicates a school with people gossiping, talking, etc. A bell rings as TARRYN approaches GEORGE.
Tarryn
Hey.
George
Hey.
Tarryn
Can I talk to you a second?
George
Sure, what’s up?
Tarryn
You told me last night that you thought I was beautiful.
George
Oh.
Tarryn
I need to know now if those were just drunk words.
GEORGE takes a moment before grabbing her face with both of his hands and pulling her close to his own face. For a moment, the tension rises - as if all the air has been sucked from the room - both characters are holding their breath. On the exhale, right before a kiss could occur, he tenderly releases her face, but they still remain remarkably close.
George
Just drunken words. I’m sorry if I made you feel special, it was a joke.
Breaking out of his trance, TARRYN hurriedly gathers her books and book bag.
Tarryn:
Don’t worry about it. You didn’t.
TARRYN walks away as fast as she can as GEORGE steps forward in a spotlight, and the scene starts to fade behind him again.
George
I’m such a pussy! I should’ve told her right then and there. I should’ve kissed her! I’m such an idiot. But it’s better this way, right? I mean, we could never work. She cares about everything.
A spotlight comes up on TARRYN.
Tarryn
He cares about nothing, but his reputation.
Tarryn/George
So he/she could never care about me.
George
And that’s the way it’s supposed to be.
Tarryn
I really hate high school.
A bell sounds as both characters share a “stolen” look at one another as the lights of the school come up and the stage crowds with people, pushing the pair in opposite directions. A bell sounds once more and the lights fade to black.
I’m at the point in my writing process where I will literally throw my work at anyone who even seems remotely willing to read it. I believe this is called artistic desperation, or at least that’s what I’m going to call it - because it sounds prettier than artistic harassment.
Yay! “Imaginary Life” (the newest draft) is finally complete - all 35 pages of it! I am very relieved, and more pleased with this direction than the previous, hopefully the critique I get on it agrees. :)
Scene 3
Morning, the next day. A loud crash (silverware crashing to the ground) is heard offstage. JORDAN rushes into the dining room, turning on the lights as he enters. A few pieces of silverware splash onto the stage in front of him.
Jordan:
I’ll call 9 - 1 - 1.
Breaking and entering is a federal offense after all.
(Beat. Aside to himself)
Breaking and entering is a federal offense after all? Good one Calhoun, citing the obvious is sure to scare a burglar away.
A loud crash is heard once more, and more silverware is seen being thrown onto the stage. NATALIE can be heard muttering under her breath (off stage).
Natalie:
Where is it? Where is it? Where is it? Where is it?
Jordan:
Natalie?
He rushes offstage. A loud scream is heard, almost primordial. JORDAN and NATALIE enter the space, NATALIE is holding out a butter knife to JORDAN with both hands, while he backs away from her.
Natalie:
GET OUT.
Jordan:
Nat. Calm down.
Natalie:
Get. Out. Or I will call the cops.
Jordan
Natalie, do you know who I am?
Natalie
A stranger. An intruder. A thief.
Jordan:
Please put the knife down.
Natalie:
You took it. Didn’t you?
(She lunges at him)
Jordan:
Jesus! I didn’t take anything. Natalie-
Natalie:
(lunges at him once more, taking a few swipes at him)
Give.It.Back.
Jordan:
I haven’t got anything.
Natalie:
Who are you?
Jordan:
A friend.
Natalie:
Of Ben’s?
Jordan:
A-and of yours.
Natalie:
Ben has all the friends. I have no one, just Ben. When Ben’s here. But he’s always away. Gone, off, and away. Up, up, and away with the clouds. But he’ll be back. He always comes back. To me. To us. To this. Which is why I need it back. I need him to know. He needs to be reminded constantly. He thinks I don’t anymore, but I do. I always have. I always will. I need to find it. I need it back.
As NATALIE descends into her rant/ramble, it gives JORDAN enough time to maneuver the knife from her hands, although it proves a formidable task seeing as she starts to pace. On the last lines he finally manages to get the knife from her hands, and gently sit her down. All done with her taking very little notice of what he’s doing.
Jordan:
It’s alright. Mrs. Cohen. It’s alright.
Natalie:
I need to find it. I need it. We need it.
Jordan:
What do you need?
Natalie:
My wedding ring.
NATALIE crumples into more hysterics and some tears, throwing an almost childlike fit, which leaves JORDAN baffled. All of a sudden BEN appears behind JORDAN, and solemnly flips the ring to JORDAN - as if it were a coin being tossed. JORDAN looks down at the ring and back at BEN, who merely smiles and nods. JORDAN drops the ring, only to pick it up as if he’s just found it, before turning to NATALIE again.
Jordan:
What’s this?
Natalie:
What’s what?
JORDAN produces the ring.
Natalie:
Oh my word! You found it! Thank you. Thank you.
(She hugs him, returning back to “Mary Sunshine” Natalie)
Thank you so much Jordan.
Jordan:
No problem Natalie. Say, why don’t I make you some nice warm tea to calm down?
Natalie:
That would be lovely.
Jordan:
Right away.
Natalie:
What would I do without you Mr. Calhoun?
JORDAN exits, leaving NATALIE alone at the table, cherishing her ring as the lights shift to a section downstage presumably “the kitchen”. JORDAN starts making tea for a few beats, but then takes out his cell phone.
Jordan:
Detective. It didn’t take very long. Well she flipped out over her wedding ring, and when I got home it was as if he had just left. She’s definitely slipping in and out of episodes, and the delusions are getting stronger, but I’m not sure if it’s enough to build a case, or even get a confession from. I’ll keep trying, but I’m really not sure how long it’ll take before she starts piecing it together again, and I don’t really fancy being a part of the fallout when it happens, although you haven’t given me much choice. Anyway, I’m just calling to give an update. She’s calming down right now, and I’ve giving her a mild sedative to soothe her nerves; hopefully put her to sleep. Other than that I’ll see you next week, and call if anything else happens.
JORDAN hangs up the phone, reaches into his pocket and taking out a small vile, opening it and crushing the contents into the drink.
Jordan:
This goes against all my moral practices.
BEN appears.
Ben:
For her own good.
Jordan:
And mine.
BEN disappears again, and JORDAN re-enters the dining room and hands NATALIE the cup the two “cheers” each other and take a sip, JORDAN watching her actions moderately close, as the lights go down.
