THESPIS THINKS ______

a play in two acts

by Tom Eubanks

Tom Eubanks 8823 N. Ventura Avenue Ventura, CA 93001 805-701-7576 [email protected] Cast of Characters

Davis Cotton: Coastline Theater Company (CTC) Artistic Director; an even- tempered southerner and widower of 40-50; and a man on the verge of dropping the safe life.

Hillary Hampshire: CTC Associate Artistic Director; a complacently single and attractive woman of 40-45; unable to fit her work into decent companionship with the opposite sex.

Miranda Warner: CTC Board member and Marketing Director; New York transplant; rowdy, rough-around-the edges woman of 40-50.

Nona Waugh: CTC production assistant; a modest, good-natured and slightly over- weight woman of 35-45; her need to be loved is subordinate to her willingness to love.

Ron: CTC Master Carpenter; an old-guard theater craftsman in his 50s, with an old-fashioned view of the world.

Thespis of Icaria: The historical first Greek actor of the ancient Athens stage; an authoritative and opinionative risk-taker, he fully acknowledges his anachronistic presence. The play’s narrator and pathfinder.

Jerry Slaate: CTC Board member; an unscrupulous businessman and opportunistic lover in his 40s; he is often the smartest, if not the least liked, man in the room.

Karen Smith: Nemesis Theater Company (NTC) Board member; a well-liked, plain-spoken woman in her 40s; her feelings of inadequacy in her work have affected her ethical judgment.

Brock Navarro: President of Theater Matters, an arts marketing firm, a wheeler- dealer lobbyist of 35-40; manipulative and conspiratorial, he wears his ego on his sleeve like solid-gold cufflinks and hides his purpose under a garment of deceit like dirty underwear.

Beverly Hillstrom: NTC Artistic Director; a bohemian feminist in her mid- to late-50s; the woman warrior activist of the worst and rare kind–dishonest, self-serving and unable to nurture those who count on her the most.

The slash ( / ) is the point where an overlap begins. That is, the actor with the next line begins speaking. 1

ACT I

SETTING: Night. Coastline Theater Company’s stage. Five chairs and a long table cluttered with water bottles, pizza boxes and cookies. Perhaps in the midst of set construction. Or not.

AT RISE: DAVIS, MIRANDA, HILLARY, RON, and NONA sit or stand around the table. They are all talking at once as the LIGHTS come up.

DAVIS / It doesn’t matter! It doesn’t matter! We’ll still–hey, listen! We’ll stand up to them and parlay this year’s internal changes into new beginnin’s. It doesn’t matter at this point what Stage Quest writes about us. Folks, listen–hey! Hey! Settle down, settle down!

MIRANDA / There’s no question they got someone makin’ this up–it’s all lies!–trying to make us look like we’re in chaos! We’re not in chaos! Let’s fight back, kick their butt! Let’s be warriors! Throw ‘em to the lions! Yeah! LET’S GET READY TO RUM-BLLLLE!

HILLARY (angrily to Ron) / Are you trying to piss me off, Ron? I’m Associate A.D., and when I say something, when I throw in my two-cents’ worth and you go, “Let’s keep the meeting in order,” that pisses me off–do you see how that could piss me off?

RON (calmly to HILLARY) / Did you hear what Davis said? Yeah, right, I’m just trying to piss you off. Well, I don’t give a damn how many shows you’ve done. We’re not discussing–Hillary–Hillary. Jeez. No one can talk to you when you’re like this.

NONA (going through pizza box) / What happened to our strategy meeting? Anyone want this last piece? Anybody? Hello? Why is everyone talking at the same time? Hey, everybody! (lofting pizza) Going once, going twice . . . !

NONA takes bite.

RON One at a time! 2

NONA Cold but good!

RON Stop!

HILLARY Don’t tell me to stop, / you stop!

DAVIS Hey, hey, hey, / please, please!

MIRANDA Knock it off, / will ya?

RON (triggering drill to make it whirr) Screw it!

RON throws drill on table and pops cookie in mouth.

NONA The alfredo chicken’s wonderful.

ALL look at NONA.

What. Someone wanted the last piece of pizza?

MIRANDA All yours, Nona. That ain’t pizza. I know pizza. You want pizza, you go down to Carmine Street–New York City–Joe’s Pizza. That’s pizza.

RON I need a cookie.

HILLARY throws a cookie at him–he ducks.

DAVIS Hillary, / please sit down.

HILLARY He better be respectful, Davis, or I’m leaving.

RON She assaulted me with an Oreo! 3

HILLARY You said you needed one!

DAVIS Y’all’s gonna be respectful–okay, Ron?

RON Yep. R-e-s-p-e-c-t.

DAVIS gives HILLARY “satisfied?” look. HILLARY sits. NONA hands RON a cookie and starts cleaning table.

HILLARY Nona. Later.

NONA I’m just / cleaning up.

HILLARY Nona.

NONA Okay–sheesh.

DAVIS (holding up papers) All right. Stage Quest. Question is . . . if this goes any further, will it affect the Foundation’s decision? And how do we stop it?

RON It’s a dumb online e-zine, Web-zine–whatever-you-call-it. If no one reads it, who cares?

MIRANDA I read it.

RON You’re our Marketing Director, you have to read it.

MIRANDA Whole damn theater community reads it.

RON It’s fake news! 4

MIRANDA And this makes us look like we’re a bunch of bozos piling out of a Vee-dubya.

RON It’s a smear! It’s gossip!

MIRANDA Davis just gave ya the Reader’s Digest version, but you gotta read all of it!

RON They repeat it until it’s believed to be the truth. / It’s theater politics!

MIRANDA We gotta stand up to them. It’s / enough to–

RON And we gotta fight fire with fire!

DAVIS Gotcha point! (Beat.) But I worry. If members of the Foundation read it. Look, I’m new to the area, and I don’t know if we gotta fight back or not. I know, I’m waverin’ here and it’s not very leader-like, / but–

HILLARY I think I speak for everyone when I say we like working with you Davis. Taking over as Artistic Director for Courtney is, well–Coastline Theater Company is–we’re blessed to have you here. We have nothing but respect for you.

RON R-e-s-p-e-c-t.

DAVIS Thank you, I ‘preciate it.

MIRANDA Can we get back on the choo-choo? You know what we gotta do with this article? We gotta bag this shit and burn it on Stage Quest’s front porch, that’s what we gotta do. Damn! Google screwed up everything!

DAVIS I’ve read it, but lemme read it to y’all so we’re on the same page.

HILLARY Can I go back–before you read it–can I go back to my two cents’ worth? 5

NONA Whaddaya mean about Google?

RON Google’s like a bird dog pointing–“over there, shoot it!” But instead of a bird, you cornered a bear!

HILLARY She means you can find things you aren’t actually looking for.

RON Bad things.

NONA Oh.

NONA checks her iPhone.

HILLARY Here’s my two cents’ worth: Kenny Kobalt deserved to be ousted for being a petulant little poop.

DAVIS chuckles at her characterization. HILLARY tries to keep a straight face, then waves him away from staring at her, to keep from laughing. NONA frowns.

RON Read it, Davis.

HILLARY (regaining her composure) Read it, please.

DAVIS (reading) “Despite their award-winnin’ season last year, sources close to the Board of Directors of Coastline / Theater Company–”

HILLARY See what I mean? How is Nemesis behind this when it clearly reads “sources close to the Board of Directors of Coastline Theater Company?” It’s us–it’s internal. We have a traitor on the board.

MIRANDA I’m on the Board and no one on the / Board would do this! 6

HILLARY Yes, Miranda, we know you’re on the Board, / you tell us every chance you get.

DAVIS Ladies, please, y’all let me finish, all right? (reading) “. . . Sources close to the Board of Directors of Coastline Theater Company report that Artistic Director Courtney Manchester was fired and replaced after comments she made on Facebook in June about Kobalt’s bein’ /fired–”

HILLARY You know, Jerry’s been mouthin’ off about Courtney / all year–

MIRANDA Hey, look. This board is committed to this theater company. Every member of the board, including Jerry. Jerry’s gung-ho for Coastline–gung-ho!

HILLARY Gung-ho, my butt, Miranda!

DAVIS is openly amused at HILLARY, but she waves him off and goes on:

It was Jerry who wanted to dismantle our Hispanic theater program–which I fought for–and it was Jerry who openly complained about doing theater in Spanish because he thought it encouraged not learning English. Jerry Slaate’s a fake, a pseudo-intellectual. Give him a topic and he’s got an opinion, a ruling, / a principle–

MIRANDA All right, Jerry’s cheeky. But Jerry’s one of the smartest guys on the board / and he wouldn’t–

HILLARY He’s one of the smartest people on the planet–just ask him and he’ll tell you so!

DAVIS puts hand over his mouth to keep from laughing.

What’s so funny?

DAVIS I’m sorry. This is serious. (Beat.) Go on.

MIRANDA Jerry wouldn’t talk to Stage Quest about internal stuff like this. Why would he want to 7

MIRANDA (cont.) make us look bad? That doesn’t even make any sense! And it’s not cool, Hillary, to make loose accusations about a board member. He’s opinionated / but–

HILLARY Don’t be naive, Miranda. He’s a bigoted misogynist and probably a closet Republican.

MIRANDA He drives a Prius!

HILLARY Okay, / just–look–

MIRANDA How can he be a Republican if he drives a Prius?

DAVIS Let’s not get political.

HILLARY All I’m saying is, I’ve been around the block and I follow my instincts.

RON (sort of to himself) You’ve been around a lot blocks.

DAVIS / Ron.

HILLARY Ron, shut up. You just don’t like women with power!

RON You’re right! I’m Construction Manager. I like women with power tools!

HILLARY You’re Construction Manager because this is community theater and you own the tools.

RON drills through the pizza box.

You build sets. You come around by yourself with your tools, do your bang-bang, screw- screw and then leave. And you think you know everything that goes on around here?–I don’t think so. And, yeah, I’ve been around a few blocks. I’ve been doing theater a long time. 8

NONA (reading phone) Oh, and thanks for the pizza, Ron!

HILLARY Davis, read?

DAVIS “Kobalt is one of the region’s award-winnin’ actors, and, with hundreds of shows under his belt, he’s a popular face on nearly every stage in the region.”

MIRANDA (without thinking) With a great butt.

NONA Miranda.

MIRANDA Slipped.

NONA If a man said something like / that–

MIRANDA Stop glaring, Nona, I’m sorry, shouldn’t’ve said it, all right? Can we get back to what we were talkin’ about? Okay. (Beat.) So. If it’s no one on our Board, maybe it’s someone at Nemesis Theater Company and they’re just, / I don’t know–

HILLARY Who? Beverly?

MIRANDA Or the other one.

HILLARY Karen?

MIRANDA Maybe both, who the hell knows? Karen got fired, what, two years ago from Paradise Players / and then–

DAVIS This is gettin’ confusin’, all these names. I’m new, guys. Y’all help me catch up. 9

MIRANDA Kenny Kobalt’s an actor–everybody knows him, almost everybody likes him–very talented. And then there’s Jerry Slaate. Jerry’s on our Board, local businessman, smart as hell.

DAVIS Met him the night of my appointment here. We talked a little about my vision for the theater.

HILLARY A jerk.

MIRANDA Whatever. Over at Nemesis, the current Artistic Director is Beverly Hillstrom, and– /

DAVIS I know her. Directed over there last year.

MIRANDA And Karen Smith is on Nemesis’s board and serves as their Marketing Director.

HILLARY Karen used to be Executive Director for Paradise Players. She wasn’t thrilled with the budgets they were giving her and made some noise about it to the wrong people–/

MIRANDA Got fired. Ended up at Nemesis.

HILLARY (to MIRANDA) Wasn’t Karen considered for Associate Artistic Director here before I got the job?

MIRANDA Hey, I’m not allowed to talk about it. (Beat.) And if she was, I didn’t vote for her.

MIRANDA makes a “there’s your answer” face.

HILLARY Thank you, Miranda.

RON So maybe Karen’s got a bitch in her craw over not getting the job.

DAVIS Folks over there like her and say she’s nice. She’s experienced. She’s workin’ to win that 10

DAVIS (cont.) big grant from the foundation–/

HILLARY Scanlon Foundation. We applied, too. The Foundation’s executive committee will announce the winner in a few days. Seventy-five grand.

MIRANDA Betcha Nemesis needs money more ‘n we do. And we probably don’t finish our season without it.

HILLARY You think this Stage Quest article could keep us from getting the grant?

MIRANDA Cha-ching. That’s what I’m saying.

That sinks in around the table.

DAVIS Uh, let’s see . . . “Coastline posted on Facebook about Kobalt and his emotional meltdown openin’ night of One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest. Kobalt was ridiculed for refusin’ to go on because a woman was breast-feedin’ a baby in the front row before the openin’ act curtain. Coastline claimed that Kobalt was quote screamin’ end quote at the stage manager that havin’ a baby in the audience was unacceptable and he wouldn’t go on ‘til the breast-feedin’ mother was removed from the theater. When the woman refused to leave the theater, Coastline claimed that Kobalt was so emotionally quote distraught end quote, that he quote pretended end quote to suffer a quote panic attack end quote and left the theater.” He really do that?

HILLARY and MIRANDA nod.

NONA I think he’s kinda sensitive.

EVERYONE looks at her.

Just guessing.

DAVIS “Kobalt’s subsequent firin’ resulted in delayin’ the openin’ for two weeks to re-cast the role of Randle McMurphy. Sources reported the Facebook post was to punish Kobalt.”

MIRANDA Posting details of his meltdown was a big mistake, guys. Our board blew that one. 11

DAVIS Doesn’t exactly foster goodwill. Theater’s supposed to be fun! This ain’t fun!

DAVIS looks to HILLARY for support. She looks away.

(reading) “Speakin’ on behalf of Nemesis Theatre Company in Oak Hills, Artistic Director Beverly Hillstrom stated quote I know a lot of good people over there at Coastline and it’s hard to believe that an actor with the chops /– ”

MIRANDA And great butt.

Rebuking look from NONA.

DAVIS “–of Kenny Kobalt would be publicly targeted in this manner. I’m sorry to say the good folks at Coastline have a rogue member tryin’ to impugn Kenny’s work ethic, and it’s heartbreakin’ to think that anyone in our theater community would be libeled in this way” end quote.

RON I once built a set for Beverly when she first started directing for Nemesis. Told me I gotta pray to the lumber before I cut it. Said it would bring strength to the art. She’s a whack- job. I say we fight fire with fire. Let’s get the word out on her.

DAVIS This is art, not politics. We can’t–we will not–resort to smearin’ folks.

RON I’m not saying we smear anyone. It’s just . . . a little tittle-tattle. Getting the truth out.

DAVIS Our truth versus their truth?

RON How much of this does the Foundation know? She got busted for possession a few years back. Arrested for domestic violence on her daughter. Her daughter wants nothing to do with her. Got closed down for trying to cast women in the three male roles of the play ‘Art’. Some said out loud one time she oughta just change their name to Emasculated Theater Company. (Beat.) This isn’t gossip, it’s fact.

Exchange of glances around the table. 12

DAVIS (going back to reading) It finishes with this: “Brock Navarro, President of Theatre Matters, a state-wide marketin’ firm / for theater organizations–

HILLARY Brock Navarro? Theatre Matters? Ohmagod, that’s–Davis, do you know who this guy is? He came to one of our board meetings–remember, Miranda? He tried getting us to hire his firm to handle our marketing. He’s a, he’s a / –

MIRANDA He’s a smear merchant.

HILLARY He’s not really a marketing firm.

MIRANDA Jerry checked him out. Guy was a Sacramento lobbyist. Posing as an advocate for the arts. My ass. He peddles frickin’ influence. Puts down the opposition.

HILLARY Pits one theater against another. Said he could find an issue, get the media to report it in our favor, whatever we wanted to put out there to get butts in the seats.

MIRANDA Help us win grants.

HILLARY But there’s a catch. He aligns his firm with theater companies that most represent the vision his firm has for theater in the state.

DAVIS What vision?

MIRANDA Traditional, mainstream approach to production. They pressure companies to do musicals and tried-and-trues. Neil Simon, Tennessee Williams, Broadway musicals. They lobby–very stealthily on social media–they lobby theaters, non-profits in particular, and woo Artistic Directors to put up mainstream productions. Rumors are they’re workin’ for right-wing groups trying to de-crudify American theater.

DAVIS De-crudify? 13

HILLARY Brock Navarro is like a political operative.

RON An artistic fascist.

MIRANDA Board didn’t like the smell of his plans. Or the cost. He ain’t cheap.

NONA Why, though? Theater companies all work together, don’t they? We loan props and costumes to each other. Everybody kind of knows everybody, works on shows at different theaters. I mean, someone’s coming from Nemesis tonight to borrow a costume. Aren’t we all friends?

MIRANDA Sure. But boards are under pressure, hustlin’ for grant writers and fund-raising gurus. (Beat.)

NONA You think Nemesis sicced this guy on us?

Pause, as EVERYONE takes that in.

DAVIS (continuing to read) This Navarro is quoted. “What’s Coastline thinkin’? Don’t they know libelin’ actors is a good way to end up with no-shows at auditions? They’re shootin’ themselves in the foot when they go after an actor with nothin’ behind him, but– /”

RON A great ass!

DAVIS (Beat.) “–Accolades. Coastline Theater Company ought to re-think their public relations strategies” end quote.

NONA (reading phone) Hey, guys.

MIRANDA And he’s got a thing about doin’ new plays. He made sure we knew all the risks in doing original works. “Don’t do guerilla theater,” he said. Guerilla like–/ 14

HILLARY The Sandinistas–/

MIRANDA The Weather Underground–that kind of guerilla.

RON (feigning naiveness) Oh, not the ape?

MIRANDA “Don’t do guerilla. Don’t intimidate your audience,” he said.

HILLARY “Shock theater”–didn’t he say that, too? “Shock theater will never take the place”–how’d he put it? “. . . Never take the place of a song, a laugh, a tear in the eye.” He makes some good arguments for playing it safe. He’s very convincing.

NONA People?

MIRANDA We’re about as mainstream as they come. He’s not a junk-yard dog, defending against intruders. He’s a hit man.

MIRANDA shoots DAVIS with her “hand” gun.

DAVIS I’m readin’ scripts. For next season. (Beat.) New works. World Premieres.

EVERYONE looks at him like he just said, “I’m going to kill myself.”

Turnin’ our theater in a new direction.

MIRANDA Is that . . . is that what you meant in your interview with the Board? When you said you wanted to do new plays? No one translated that to mean shit that’s never been done before.

DAVIS I told Jerry what I intended to do. I thought y’all understood.

MIRANDA When did you tell Jerry? 15

DAVIS Met him the mornin’ of the Board meetin’. Only time we ever met. Talked for a good half hour right there on the edge of the stage.

MIRANDA You didn’t mean new plays, like, recently published and produced somewhere else?

DAVIS shakes his head.

NONA Hey, guys. Trolling Web pages, I found this: “Canyon Springs’s favorite Thespian, Kenny Kobalt, is under attack from Coastline Theater Company in Oak Hills. Let’s show Mr. Kobalt how much we appreciate his work and tell Coastline to go (Beat.) ‘f’ themselves”–they use the real word–“by boycotting the rest of their season. There’s plenty of theaters out there doing great theater, so why audition for Coastline? Don’t support Coastline Theater Company’s libelous attacks on actors. Draw the line against Coastline.” That’s horrible.

RON Wouldn’t it make more sense to say, “Draw the curtain on Coastline?”

HILLARY Where’d you find that?

NONA hands over her iPhone. (reading) It’s a blog.

MIRANDA So we got an article and a blog makin’ us out to be targeting actors. This stinks. Who else’s spreadin’ this garbage?

DAVIS Nona, how’d you find that?

NONA Googled Kenny’s name.

HILLARY (Beat.) Why?

NONA I don’t know. We were talking about him and I . . . I don’t know, I just did. Maybe we should write back or put up something on Twitter about how–I mean, how talented he is. Maybe say / something– 16

DAVIS Nona, what else?

NONA scrolls and reads.

NONA Uh. . . Rising Star Theater Awards’ Web site has something about the best-actor award for his Hamlet. He was really good in that, I mean–oh, and here’s something. Wait, no, it’s just–just his Facebook page.

DAVIS Pull it up.

NONA (hesitating) We have time for this? You have rehearsal, Hillary.

DAVIS We gotta know what we’re up against. Let’s see what’s on his Facebook page. Does he have Twitter?

NONA There’s just normal stuff like . . . .

She stops. EVERYONE waits. NONA looks uncomfortable.

I kinda follow him on Twitter.

DAVIS So what’s he sayin’ about us?

NONA Nothing really.

DAVIS What do you mean “nothin’”?

NONA (after a pause) After Courtney posted about his–you know?

HILLARY Melt down. 17

NONA He wrote some things.

DAVIS Will you read them, Nona, please?

Reluctantly, NONA taps phone screen, scrolls and reads.

NONA He tweeted this right after Courtney got fired. “Posting lies about me got the Coastline board to see the light. Courtney Manchester got the boot. And my message is loud and clear: Mothers, love your babies, but leave them at home!”

DAVIS That’s it?

NONA Well, um . . . before that he tweeted that he didn’t have a melt down, that Courtney lied. That he just asked the stage manager to ask the breast-feeding mom to come back another night without the baby. When the mother refused, he talked to the rest of the cast and everyone agreed they didn’t want to deal with a baby screaming during the show. He only left after Courtney showed up and called him a . . . it’s a hard word to pronounce. Mis-o- gyn-ist-ic . . . prick.

MIRANDA (smirking) “Prick” ain’t hard to pronounce.

HILLARY Nona, that can’t be true.

NONA Just telling you what he wrote.

RON What if he is telling the truth?

DAVIS Well, here’s the truth: This theater is a target. What matters is . . . what do we do about it? What do we have to do to keep this from bein’ our last season?

Pause. EVERYONE FREEZES. THESPIS, wearing a drab peplos over a long chiton and sandals, stands from a place in the audience, works his way to 18

front of stage and addresses AUDIENCE.

THESPIS Good evening [afternoon] ladies and gentlemen! I’m Thespis of Icaria! Den skata [den skat-AH]! That’s Greek. For “no shit!” (Laughs.) House lights, please?

House lights UP.

Efcharisto [ef-kehr-ee-stoh]. Thank you.

Nodding, THESPIS makes eye-contact with three or four members of the AUDIENCE.

“Who the hell is this guy!” That’s what you’re thinking. Right? “This guy looks like he drove to the wrong theater!” Right? Or maybe I’m a crazy member of the audience who dresses up in ancient Greek garb and gets his jollies stopping plays. Just when we might be comprehending all this exposition! Right?

Well, I got news for you: I’m not an accident. Well, mom and dad never actually said, so it’s possible! Ha! What I mean is: I’m not a plot device. I’m not here to resolve unsolvable problems. I’m not getting paid enough for that! Ha! I’m not some inspired intervention created by a deus ex machina. In fact, I hate the damn things–this machine, a crane from above, a riser from below–delivering actors playing gods to the stage? I mean, really? Actors playing gods? To settle the play’s conflict? To bring the play to a close? (raising hand to ask for hands) How many here know Aristophanes? Not personally! I’ll refresh your memory. Aristophanes believed deus ex machina was the mark of a playwright who couldn’t grapple with the complications of his plot. He wrote:

when they don’t know what to say and have completely given up on the play just like a finger they lift the machine and the spectators are satisfied.

Now, I’ve been out there thinking. Apparently, that’s my job around here, to think about stuff. And I think I can help. Maybe I’m a modern version of a deus ex machina. Uninspired version!

So far, this might be a little confusing. Let me steer you to the right path. We got six names with no faces. We got Jerry, Karen, Beverly, Brock, Courtney and Kenny. Check your program. You’re going to meet four of them, I promise. Courtney’s out of the picture, though, fired and replaced by Davis as Artistic Director. And Kenny? He’s like Godot. We wait. But he never shows up. So. Jerry’s on the Coastline board. Karen’s on the Nemesis board. Beverly’s Artistic Director for Nemesis–she runs the theater company. Brock runs Theater Matters, a marketing firm. Now, let’s see if you got it. 19

THESPIS tests them, pointing to a member of AUDIENCE and asking, “Who’s Jerry? Who’s Karen?” Etc. Until the AUDIENCE’s answers are correct.

THESPIS (cont.) You didn’t know you were going to be tested when you bought your ticket, did you? Ha! Excellent work! I think we got it.

THESPIS mounts stage. HOUSE LIGHTS dim out. CAST changes scene to Costume Room. THESPIS speaks to CAST, but they can’t hear him.

Yes! There you go! Make yourselves useful!

As you can see, I have no influence over anyone here. Proof I am not a god. Or a machine. So what did I do to end up here? Hm. Let’s see.

In 534 B.C., in Athens, on the Ancient Greek stage at the City of Dionysia [Di-oh-nih-zee- ah] festival, I stepped away from the chorus. Woooo! I acted an individual role. Let me milk my own cow here and explain: I alone created the power of the protagonist! With the chorus huddled safely behind me, singing the poetry of Greek myth, single-handedly–I’m not even going to try to be humble about this–I transformed the telling of stories. The chorus played their role, and, switching masks, I played individual roles. I! Was! An actor! (shading eyes to see AUDIENCE) You’re not impressed. I can tell. Well. Good thing this play is not about actors. No. But I’ll hang around. Watching, guiding, interpreting. I won’t interfere. And I swear, I’ll always arrive on two legs, never by crane or riser or out of thin air! I will not be hoisted from the confusion of some playwright’s lazy mind and dropped in the midst of a play going nowhere! Ha!

Slight pause.

Now . . . let us play on!

DIM LIGHT UP on Coastline costume room. A bench sits in front of racks of costumes, to either side a hat rack and shelves for shoes.

We move from the Coastline stage to it’s costume room.

We see only the legs of a man and a woman behind the costumes. MOANING and LIP-SMACKS from what we suspect is a make-out session. THESPIS stands to the side of them. He can see them; we can’t. 20

THESPIS (cont.) (sounding somewhat like Rod Serling) A man and a woman. Wielding passionate whispers. Nestled under a naked bulb. Romance bloating like the carcass of an amorous fool.

THESPIS looks over at the actors behind the costumes, then, to AUDIENCE:

Sort of.

More MOANING and KISSING. THESPIS moves aside, staying in view.

MAN (JERRY) Oh, Karen. Earlobes, I love your earlobes. Gimme your left one–(sigh). (Beat.) Now the right one–(sigh).

WOMAN (KAREN) Oh! / Oh!

JERRY Yeah, baby.

KAREN Oh! (Beat.) Oh! (trying to end it) Okay, okay!

JERRY Beautiful little lobes, baby.

KAREN Okay, Jerry, please, stop-stop-stop, please stop licking me!

JERRY What’s the matter, baby?

KAREN I said, “stop!”

JERRY What? Don’tcha / like it?

KAREN For heaven’s sake, Jerry! 21

JERRY Baby, what’s going /on?

KAREN Look at that!

JERRY Look at what?

KAREN Coming out of my ear! Look!

JERRY What is it?

KAREN It’s your spit, Jerry.

JERRY What the–? It’s black.

KAREN Black? What is it? Why is it black?

JERRY (talking with his tongue out) Is there something on my tongue? What’s on / my tongue?

KAREN It’s black, Jerry. Your whole tongue is–you have black stuff all over your–what the heck is that?

JERRY Oh, yeah.

KAREN Black gunk all over your tongue and you’re sticking it in my ear?

JERRY I know what it is.

KAREN It’s wet and crumbly. What’s this wet crumbly gunk coming out of my / ear!? 22

JERRY I’m sorry, all right? It’s nothing bad, I know what it is, baby.

KAREN Yuck! Gimme something–that’s so gross–gimme something to scoop it out! And stop calling me “baby.”

JERRY It’s cookie.

KAREN It’s gross!

JERRY It’s just the Oreo cookie I ate before you got here.

KAREN Are you kidding me? You ate a cookie and stuck your–. Don’t you rinse?

JERRY I’m sorry, okay, ran out of time. (Beat.) Use this.

KAREN That’s a–Jerry, that’s a costume, for Pete’s sake!

JERRY Clean out your ear, then brush it off the sleeve. Who’s gonna know?

KAREN I’m not cleaning up Oreo-spit with a sleeve!

JERRY Here.

KAREN Jerry! Get your finger out of my ear! I’m going for some tissue.

KAREN begins to leave.

JERRY Gimme a kiss before you go.

KAREN Not ‘til you rinse! 23

VOICES heard OFF STAGE.

JERRY Sssshh!

KAREN Don’t shush me.

JERRY Quiet! Someone’s coming.

DAVIS and HILLARY enter.

HILLARY Light got left on again. If these people only knew what it costs to run a theater company, ya know?

DAVIS Why here?

HILLARY Everyone’s still in the theater. And the green room smells like rotten meat. This is the quietest room in the building. Can we just sit? Just you and me? Talk for a couple minutes?

They sit on bench. They FREEZE. THESPIS pulls open costumes to expose KAREN and JERRY.

THESPIS I think formal introductions are in order!

This is Jerry Slaate. He serves on the–remember? Coastline Theater board. Jerry’s two- time divorced, no children he’ll acknowledge. Owns a chain of frozen yogurt shops. His success gives him the means to, you know, assault country clubs up and down the coast with a bad golf swing and a good eye for crooked businessmen. Three years ago, for fun, he auditioned and was cast in the role of Juror Number Three in the play Twelve Angry Men. Like some wormy larva, he attached himself to this theater company by hosting frozen yogurt fund raisers. Out of the theater company’s desperation for vermiculate thinkers, he metamorphosed into a full-fledged board member.

And this is Karen Smith. Karen’s nice. Sweet. Everyone thinks so. She’s worked for six theater companies in twelve years. First as a costume designer, a producer, then Executive Director of a theater company. After she was terminated, she was tossed into the shallow end of the theatrical pool. Became a member of Nemesis Theater Company’s Board of Directors. Presently she’s tramping through the legal jungle of a divorce. Her two sons 24

THESPIS (cont.) are off at colleges on both coasts. Lately, the loneliness of an empty nest is crushing her.

Hillary Hampshire taught high school theater arts. For more years than she is willing to admit. Since to do so might over-employ Shaw’s maxim, “He who can, does; he who cannot, teaches.” Six years ago, her friend Courtney rescued Hillary from the delusions of education and appointed her Associate Artistic Director. Hillary’s single. Inadvertently. She just can’t quite fit the opposite sex into her life.

And this is Davis Cotton, Coastline’s new Artistic Director. He answers to the Board, but he runs the theater company’s productions. It’s his job to pick the plays for their season. He makes sure each show meets the company’s artistic standards.

Recently he transplanted from Georgia to the west coast. His wife died tragically when a peach tree in transit from a nursery fell off the truck. Impaled her in the seat of her car.

Pause, as he sadly gazes over at DAVIS.

He struggled in North Carolina to find work as an actor, before he found his niche: directing musical theater in community and professional theaters from Georgia to California. It lasted until, well. . . until directing musical theater became like eating baklava cheesecake for breakfast, lunch and dinner. (Gag.) After eating musical theater half a decade, he was just plain starving. For something real. Something different. For meat, for marrow, for substance. Time transformed his theatrical palette. Last night, he told the board that producing musicals at Coastline was not economically feasible. Too few seats and ticket prices incapable of balancing the weighty and compulsory expenses associated with them. He told the board he wouldn’t include a musical in next year’s season. The board was unanimously shocked.

Play on!

THESPIS pushes costume rack back in place and moves to the side.

HILLARY I got rehearsal in ten minutes, so let me give you my two-cents’ worth. E-mails are flying, Davis. You can’t seriously be considering this.

DAVIS Are we talkin’ about what we decided to do just now in the meetin’?

HILLARY No, I’m talking about last night’s board meeting where you / told everyone– 25

DAVIS About no musicals in the season–yeah.

HILLARY How can you do that? Courtney always included at least two or three musicals in every season.

DAVIS And they barely covered expenses.

HILLARY Our audience depends on seeing musicals.

DAVIS I accepted this position based not on what has been but on what will be.

HILLARY Davis, please don’t give me any que sera, sera shit. Musical theater was a big part of Courtney’s vision.

DAVIS They cost too much.

HILLARY There are musicals we can afford!

DAVIS (Beat.) I hate ‘em.

HILLARY’s jaw drops; she stares back, speechless.

HILLARY What?

DAVIS I hate musicals.

HILLARY Oh. My. God. Where’s this coming from?

DAVIS From deep in my soul. Sorry. I hate ‘em.

HILLARY In theater? That is a hate crime. 26

DAVIS Oh. My. God.

HILLARY Don’t ridicule me. I can’t believe what I’m hearing. I’m . . . stunned. Davis, your reputation was for directing musicals!

DAVIS Hillary, darlin’, please. I left my reputation in Tucson. After I directed Into the Light. Where the writers set music to the process of scientifically provin’ the Shroud of Turin. “Science with the data is like Christ without the stigmata.” That’s an actual lyric. The quest for historical relevance in musical theater often–not always–but often leads us to a new place by way of the absence of standards.

THESPIS Bravo. Well said.

DAVIS hesitates, as if he heard that.

DAVIS What?

HILLARY I didn’t say anything. (Beat.) Davis, this is your new place. It’s simple. Don’t do bad musicals. Do good ones. There’s a ton of them.

DAVIS (improvised singing–making it up as he goes) HILLARY, HILLARY, I KNOW IT SOUNDS SILLARY, GOOD AND BAD MUSICALS PUT ME IN A PILLORY!

HILLARY Do the Tony Award-winners.

DAVIS (improvised singing with different tune) PHANTOM OF THE OPERA, CHICAGO AND CATS! SURE-BET HITS WITH BOX OFFICE STATS! FEED ALL THE PATRONS THE SAME OLD PERKS! NEVER, EVER, EVER GIVE THEM ANY NEW WORKS!

HILLARY Very clever, Davis, but this isn’t funny. Do My Fair Lady! We haven’t done My Fair 27

HILLARY (cont.) Lady in like . . . three, four years?

DAVIS (facetiously) That long?

HILLARY I’m serious.

DAVIS (singing) SUDDENLY DANCIN’ AND SQUAWKIN’ INSTEAD OF JUST TALKIN’ IS UNREALISTIC–DON’T YOU AGREE?

HILLARY (sing-talking) JUST MAKE YOUR POINT, I HAVE TO GO PEE.

DAVIS laughs.

Actually, I do get your point. But musicals aren’t supposed to be realistic. Our audience wants to experience the great musicals of our time–old and new. They flock to them.

DAVIS Like seagulls to trash.

HILLARY You’re being ridiculous! Musicals are not trash!

DAVIS I know, I’m just–. Don’t worry ‘bout the poor li’l musical. A bunch of theater companies are puttin’ ‘em up. Locally, three–count ‘em, three–theaters put up the same musical simultaneously this year.

HILLARY Grease, I know. Theaters need to communicate better–and we try. They’re popular for a reason. They’re good. Audiences love to see good musicals again and again, Davis.

DAVIS When I was a little kid livin’ in Decatur, Georgia–about ten or eleven–I loved salt water taffy. Every Christmas I’d get a little gauzy bag of ‘em, filled with all different flavors, and wolf ‘em down. And then one Christmas I got a big bag–a real big bag. I decided to 28

DAVIS (cont.) make ‘em last a long time. I ate a couple pieces every day or two. For weeks and weeks and weeks I ate a couple of pieces. Until just the smell, when I opened the bag, made me wanna gag. (Beat.) Enough is enough. Let’s move on. There’s plenty of musical theater out there, Hillary. Let’s give ‘em somethin’ different, somethin’ new.

HILLARY What? Shitty homemade cookies? That’s what a lot of new plays are. They’re just shitty homemade cookies.

DAVIS You and I don’t have kids, but I remember my momma makin’ me eat new things. She’d say, “Davie-boy, eat it. Try it. If you don’t like it, you don’t have to eat it ever again. Just try it this once.” She’d say, “You might find out you love it to death.” How does our audience know what they like if we don’t even put it on the plate? They might love it to death.

HILLARY I’m not against doing new works. But not a seven course meal of, of, of, offensive, sexually-explicit . . . f-bomb-loaded . . . pointless, abstract, social commentary.

DAVIS I don’t either. I want to do new comedies.

HILLARY We already do comedies.

DAVIS Yeah. Neil Simon, Neil Simon, Neil Simon and occasionally Neil Simon.

HILLARY Courtney’s done comedies by a lot of different playwrights–you’re not being fair.

DAVIS We’re gonna do everything–dramas, thrillers, mysteries, solo performances–nothin’s excluded.

HILLARY Courtney included all genres in our season, Davis.

DAVIS She did old. I want to do new.

HILLARY We did Doubt, we did Proof. 29

DAVIS So did everybody else.

HILLARY Please, don’t turn us into a frickin’ New York-style La MaMa. Experimental theater won’t fly here! What do you southerners think? All Californians are all about kooky artichoke hearts, ahi tuna, and, and, and doin’ it doggy-style? Well, we’re actually about pot roast and potatoes and the missionary position!

Quite taken with her, DAVIS laughs.

DAVIS (smiling) Darlin’, you’re cute as a bug’s ear.

HILLARY I know you’re from the south, Davis, but I’m not your “darlin’.”

DAVIS Let’s transform this place into a playwright’s showcase.

HILLARY We don’t need some artistic laboratory and you’ll never be a mad scientist.

DAVIS (playing the mad scientist) Yes, yes! He’s /alive, alive!

HILLARY You want to experiment on the audience we’ve cultivated for over twenty years?

DAVIS Yes, Igor, yes! I will wake the dead! (Beat.) All I’m gonna do is mix the new with the old.

Pause.

HILLARY Just one. One World Premiere, four mainstream.

DAVIS Three World Premieres and two plays done-to-death-by-everybody-else.

HILLARY Davis! No! You’ll break us! No one’s going to come to see a bunch of unknown plays! I 30

HILLARY (cont.) know our audience! Besides, we have to raise money. And the Foundation sure isn’t going to award us seventy-five thousand if you turn us into/ this, this–

DAVIS Into a theater company that stands out!

Pause.

HILLARY You want to stand out? Do theater for the deaf. Or kids’ theater. (Beat.) The board has final say you know. They’ll never go for this.

DAVIS They might if ya support me.

HILLARY Throwing away musicals? Tossing in a bunch of plays that probably a hundred other theaters have declined producing? That’s not a recipe for success.

DAVIS How do ya know?

HILLARY I . . . don’t. Actually.

DAVIS I don’t either.

They FREEZE.

THESPIS Despite the fact that the antecedents of musical theater are in ancient Greek drama, where music and dance were included in stage comedies and tragedies, I think what Davis proposes is a little like stepping away from the chorus. Hm? Maybe worth a little risk? That’s what I’m thinking.

THESPIS chuckles, starts to move away and turns back.

I’m trying to be relevant here.

THESPIS moves away to watch. 31

HILLARY You’re willing to risk the life of this theater company to satisfy your own–I don’t know–/ your own–

DAVIS My own vision, yeah.

HILLARY Some of us are invested–deeply invested here. I’ve been here a lot longer than you. I’ve sacrificed a lot for this place. I should’ve been–.

HILLARY sighs heavily, not willing to finish her sentence.

DAVIS I gotta try it. One season. If it doesn’t work, I’ll resign. That’s a promise. And I’ll recommend to the board that you take over as Artistic Director.

HILLARY Courtney made the same recommendation when she was leaving. What did the board do? They hired you–someone who’s never even directed a play here. Why?

DAVIS Glass ceilin’?

HILLARY Most of the board is made up of women.

DAVIS Jealousy then.

HILLARY Of what?

DAVIS You. You’re talented. And beautiful. And passionate.

HILLARY Go back, go back.

DAVIS And beautiful?

HILLARY smiles. 32

HILLARY I . . . I don’t know . . . really . . . what to say. You’re pretty private, I’ve noticed. I’ve known you for a few weeks, but . . . I don’t actually know you. Or what you think of, of, of, anyone, really. Me included. You seem . . . cocooned? In something? I keep hoping a–. (Beat.) Not going there.

DAVIS Go there.

HILLARY I keep hoping . . . don’t laugh. I keep hoping . . . a butterfly emerges.

DAVIS slowly does a silly butterfly imitation. HILLARY can’t help but smile.

Before you even came to us, I heard you were a nice guy. Who had his ego under control. That’s all I knew when the board told me I’d be under you–with you–working with you.

DAVIS I’m a riddle, wrapped in a mystery, inside an enigma. Unravel me any way you want, Miss Hampshire. Probably won’t find a butterfly, though.

HILLARY What does that mean?

DAVIS Means you’re probably gonna get a Georgia peach with whiskers.

HILLARY (trying not to laugh) I’m trying to have a–. Don’t deflect talking about things because you, I don’t know–you don’t want people to know the real you. Some of us . . . want to get to know the real Davis.

DAVIS nods, then smiles.

THESPIS Uh-oh.

DAVIS reacts like he heard something.

HILLARY What? 33

DAVIS Uh . . . thought I heard someone. (Beat.) Hey. You’re gonna be late.

HILLARY Rehearsal! Damn! Gotta go, gotta go!

DAVIS Pick this up later? Over coffee maybe?

HILLARY Uh . . . tomorrow morning?

DAVIS Come to my studio. I’ll text you the address.

HILLARY Okay.

DAVIS Good. It’s about time you and I, ya know . . . find a page and jump in the book together.

HILLARY Is that some southern way of saying / we’re–

DAVIS It just means we’re gonna get on the same page.

Pause.

HILLARY (awkwardly) Oh. Okay. Off I go.

DAVIS Have a good rehearsal.

HILLARY Okay. Coffee. Tomorrow.

They stand looking at each other for a moment, as if something between them has been revealed.

‘Bye.

HILLARY exits. DAVIS waits, then sits, gets out his cell phone, 34

and dials. He waits, listening to a voice message.

DAVIS Hey. This is Davis. Wonderin’ if you had Brock Navarro’s office number. Call me.

He hangs up and exits. KAREN and JERRY emerge from the racks into full view.

KAREN What the heck?

JERRY Yeah, he made that song up right off the top of his head–how’d he do that?

KAREN What’re you talking about? I’m not talking about–Jerry, I’m not talking about that.

JERRY Sounds like a good thing for us.

KAREN A good thing? Are we talking about the same thing?

JERRY I’m talking about his not wanting to do musicals. It could mean Coastline loses any chance for getting the grant.

KAREN I’m not talking about musicals. I’m talking about the call. For Brock’s number. Was that your phone that just vibrated?

JERRY My phone? Nope. C’mere, baby.

KAREN Stop it! Didn’t you hear it?

JERRY You know I never answer my cell. I listen to messages. I don’t know any Brock. And who cares?

KAREN Brock Navarro, Jerry. The guy? The guy who was hired. 35

JERRY What about him?

JERRY tries to kiss her.

KAREN Jerry! Stop it! Grow up! Brock Navarro is the guy Nemesis hired. The marketing guy.

JERRY Oh. Oh! Yeah. That Brock, yeah. So whaddaya think Davis is up to?

KAREN I don’t know. I feel lost. This is critical. I don’t think I can do this. My–well–inside contact–at the Foundation?–told me they’re going to announce the winner of the grant in a couple of days.

JERRY We’re not giving up now. Coastline or Nemesis will get the seventy-five grand, unless we do something. Stick with our plan. You deserve this chance.

KAREN I don’t know. I’m not comfortable sneaking around. I’m not sneaky. I don’t feel good getting inside information for us. We’re probably not playing fair.

JERRY What’re you talkin’ about? All is fair in love and war and this is war. You don’t have to do anything, sweetie. Jerry’s here! I got an MBA from Pepperdine, Karen! I’ll figure something out. Now kiss me!

JERRY opens his mouth, sticks out his tongue.

Thee? Nah hookie.

As JERRY leans in, she pushes him back.

KAREN What’re you going to do?

JERRY Karen, Karen, Karen. I don’t know. Something. I’ll figure it out. That’s my job in this, this, this partnership. I figger stuff out!

KAREN Okay. Good. I hope so. 36

JERRY kisses her too passionately.

KAREN (underwhelmed) Wow. You tiger.

JERRY Grrrrrrr.

KAREN (backing away; holding costume) I got the costume I came for. Can we get out of here before someone sees us together?

They exit.

THESPIS emerges as CAST moves into next scene, replacing bench and costume racks with a card table and two chairs for The Gin Game rehearsal.

THESPIS New plays, new plays. Original stuff. You know, all over America there are theaters producing new plays. Some theaters are all about the emerging playwrights, showcasing their work. But Coastline Theater Company isn’t in some big city. Here, in community theater, audiences come for safe, reliable entertainment. Like brand-name tires and fast food. Responsible and prophylactic.

This good man, this Davis Cotton. Is his vision for the theater’s future 20/20? Or are the risks too great? Is he being short-sighted? Is he ignoring responsible stewardship? Are these questions irritating you? Ha! (Beat.) Hillary just finished her rehearsal. The stage manager and actors have gone home. Play on!

HILLARY stands with her back to the audience down stage of the table and chairs, staring at them. She crosses upstage of one of the chairs, stares at it for what seems like an eternity–a ridiculous amount of time–before slowly reaching out and moving the chair a tiny, tiny fraction of an inch. She nods, satisfied.

From the back of the house, we hear:

NONA (O.S.) Rehearsal over?

HILLARY (startled) You scared the crap out of me! 37

NONA (crossing down aisle to below stage) Sorry. I was upstairs pulling props.

HILLARY Announce when you enter a room, please. (Beat.) Did you find the old wheelchair?

NONA Nope. I think Ron loaned it out.

HILLARY He can’t keep doing that! Who has it?

NONA Don’t know, sorry.

HILLARY (sitting to review script) Well, ask him. I need it for the show.

NONA I’ll find it. (Beat.) May I ask you something? What were you doing just now with the chair?

HILLARY (slightly embarrassed) Uh . . . visualizing. Directors visualize.

NONA Moving it a fraction of an inch made it. . . what?

HILLARY It’s complicated. Anything else?

NONA Um . . . oh, yeah. I saw Jerry. Leaving the theater.

HILLARY So?

NONA After the meeting. With a woman I never saw before.

HILLARY What did she look like? 38

NONA Average.

HILLARY I don’t know what that means.

NONA (looking around stage) Average, like, nothing special about her. Hair average length. Couldn’t tell what color. Average height, weight. Did Ron eat all the cookies?

HILLARY Forget the cookies, focus. Did they leave together?

NONA No. Separate cars.

HILLARY Karen was coming by to borrow a costume.

NONA Do you think . . . do you think Davis’ll ever let Kenny work here again?

HILLARY What?

NONA Do you think Kenny Kobalt–do you think, now that Courtney’s gone, Davis might–I don’t know–let Kenny get cast in a play here?

HILLARY Why would he do that?

NONA Just . . . wondering. (Beat.) I better go.

NONA turns towards back of house.

HILLARY He’s trying to weasel his way back in here, isn’t he?

NONA I, um. (Beat.) How would I know? 39

HILLARY Nona Waugh, what’s going on?

NONA What. I just . . . I think he’s very talented, that’s all.

HILLARY Wait, no. Are you–? No. No, no, that’s not . . . I can’t . . . . (Beat.) Are you seeing him?

NONA Seeing him?

HILLARY Nah, don’t do that.

NONA (after a pause) I had dinner with him–once.

HILLARY Dinner.

NONA Yeah.

HILLARY You and Kenny.

NONA Carl’s Jr., yeah.

HILLARY When?

NONA A while ago.

HILLARY Before or after Courtney left here?

NONA (Beat.) After. It was my birthday.

HILLARY After we fired him, you went with him to Carl’s Jr.. 40

NONA Yeah, what’s wrong with that? I love their Super Star with cheese. And they have really good shakes.

HILLARY You’re missing the point. How–? Okay. Let me think. You . . . ?

NONA (helpfully finishing her sentence) Worked on One Flew Over the / Cuckoo’s Next.

HILLARY Cuckoo’s Nest. Right, right.

NONA I was assistant stage manager. That’s when we met.

HILLARY Did you guys . . . you know.

NONA (Beat.) No! No! God, no. We’re just friends. We had things . . . you know, in common.

HILLARY Have a seat.

NONA I better lock up.

HILLARY I insist.

NONA sits opposite HILLARY at the table. THESPIS stands between them, listening.

NONA I was watching earlier from the back. You’re a really good director.

HILLARY Nah, don’t do that. (Beat.) So, you met Kenny here. He gets booted off Cuckoo’s Nest. Courtney leaves after the Facebook uproar. That was . . . ?

NONA Correct. 41

HILLARY No. I mean, that was the start of what kind of relationship? (Beat.) Damn it, Nona, just tell me everything instead of making me pull it out of you. Please.

NONA Oh, there’s the magic word–finally.

HILLARY Are you being sarcastic with me?

NONA (trying to show a backbone) Maybe.

HILLARY Talk.

NONA (after a long pause) It’s . . . personal.

HILLARY What is?

NONA We met here during Cuckoo’s Nest, we had things in common–like theater, we both played the flute in high school and we both love doing puzzles and playing chess and–what else?–I don’t remember, there was a bunch of things we both liked. We talked on the phone, he took me to dinner for my birthday, and I’m not talking about him behind his back.

HILLARY Are you just talking with him? Or are you advocating for him?

NONA This is, this is my business, Hillary. You can’t make me talk about this. Who do you see? Who do you sleep with? See? That’s, like, none of my business.

HILLARY I’m not seeing or sleeping with anyone.

NONA For now. But who were you seeing? Who would you like to sleep with? Huh? Maybe that’s the question. Who’s in your cross hairs, / Hillary? 42

HILLARY Cross hairs? Ohmagod, we’ve just failed the Bechdel test.

NONA I don’t know what that is.

HILLARY The Bechdel test is about female empowerment. It’s a–like a measure for artistic equity–you know? It’s from an Allison Bechdel cartoon. The test is two women talking to each other about a man. If this was a play, we just failed the test. Should be the same in real life. We have to talk about something besides a man. Two women. Talking. About something else.

NONA What about dogs? We could talk about dogs. Kenny and I both / like dogs!

HILLARY (standing) I’m just–

NONA (standing) I’m not saying you’re like some, you know, some man sniper.

HILLARY I don’t even know what that means.

NONA /It means–

HILLARY I can’t believe this. We’re still breaking the Bechdel rule! (Beat.) But, hey. What the hell does Bechdel know? She draws frickin’ cartoons, right? (Beat.) Listen. Nona, I’m trying to save you from a lot of heartache.

NONA What about female empowerment, Hillary?

HILLARY Kenny’s a cad.

NONA Kenny’s a gentleman. 43

HILLARY He’s a troublemaker.

NONA He’s misunderstood.

HILLARY He’s all about himself.

NONA He’s one of the most generous men I know.

HILLARY Generous? Carl’s Jr.?

NONA My pick. He wanted to take me somewhere classier.

HILLARY What, Denny’s?

NONA How’d you know?

HILLARY That’s where he took me! Shit.

NONA’s surprise is clear. She sits back down.

That’s private! I mean it, Nona. No one knows that. (Beat.) We dated. Shortly. I . . . broke it off. I think. (Beat.) Okay, look. Kenny’s charming and a talented actor. Everyone loves Kenny. His public persona is magnetic–if not impressive. But he’s a fraud. He says he likes you and then he just . . . never mind. And he smiles too much.

NONA He’s got a great smile. What’s wrong with his smile?

HILLARY He says all the right things. (Beat.) We should talk about something else. (Beat.) Never mind. One more thing, listen. He’s like a tiger. He’s patient. Very patient. Then he pounces on his prey.

NONA Okay, so we’re not talking about a man now, we’re talking about tigers! (Beat.) Tigers aren’t really that successful, you know. Like, they only make a kill about twenty-percent 44

NONA (cont.) of the time. Tigers are hungry all the time.

HILLARY Leopards then. My point / is–

NONA Most hunts end in disappointment for leopards, too. But lionesses? Ffffff! They get it done. Because they work in groups.

HILLARY Wow, you know a lot about wild cats.

NONA Animal Planet.

HILLARY This is good. We’re not talking about a man. We’re talking about cats.

NONA I love animals.

HILLARY Okay, then. You and I . . . are lionesses. Let’s work as a team.

NONA And kill Kenny?

HILLARY No!

NONA That was a joke. Work to do what?

HILLARY Um . . . .All this talk about the Bechdel rule and not talking about men made me lose my train of thought.

NONA Maybe you’re saying we should work together to keep someone like Kenny from ever acting for this theater company.

HILLARY That’s part of what I’m saying. 45

NONA If a man said a bunch of nasty things about you, because you and he had conflicts and a romance that went south, would you want me not to work with you? Just because Kenny might not like you, doesn’t mean I can’t.

HILLARY Tell me what he said about me. And then we’ll go back to talking about cats.

NONA He’s never mentioned you.

HILLARY Oh.

NONA Except once.

HILLARY Yeah?

NONA When Courtney got fired, he said he hoped you took her place.

HILLARY Really.

NONA Yeah.

HILLARY He said that. Huh. Well. Hm. (Beat.) Oh. I remember.

NONA What?

HILLARY The lioness thing, working together. Okay, I’m not talking about a man, I’m talking about a situation now. Think about this: there’s a chance–we don’t know–but there’s a chance Kenny might be working with outside forces to bring down this theater company.

NONA Are you serious?

HILLARY Dead. 46

NONA Is that social media stuff going to bring us down?

HILLARY That social media stuff by itself isn’t going to bring us down. But used by the wrong people to create a phony narrative about this theater company could mean losing grants, actors boycotting auditions–who knows what else?

NONA And you think Kenny is behind this?

HILLARY No. But I think he’s being used. I think Kenny might be a pawn.

NONA Well . . . he’s not a pawn. He’s a knight. Or maybe a bishop. Definitely better moves than a stupid pawn.

HILLARY Okay, now we’re kind of not talking about a man, we’re talking chess. One of the fundamental skills of playing chess is what?

NONA Visualization?

HILLARY Okay.

NONA Evaluation?

HILLARY Okay, but I’m making / a point.

NONA Calculation!

HILLARY That’s my point, you hit it. (Beat.) Talk to him. Work him. Don’t push anything.

NONA Work him?

HILLARY Find out if he knows who’s trying to ruin our reputation in the theater community. 47

NONA I’m not going to “work him.” Until he does something bad to me, Kenny’s my friend.

HILLARY I’m not asking you to be anyone but yourself. I care about you. Lionesses stick together. Right?

NONA nods. Pause.

Talking about men is exhausting. Will you lock up?

NONA Sure.

HILLARY Thanks.

HILLARY starts to exit, but turns back.

So what do you think of Davis?

NONA He’s nice. Really smart, passionate. A natural leader. (Beat.) And handsome?

HILLARY Yeah. He’s definitely nice.

HILLARY exits. NONA sits, thinking. Then she makes a call on her cell.

NONA (kittenish) Hi . . . . The theater . . . . Yeah, I asked. . . . She called you a cad. . . . No, not the car. It’s a guy who treats women badly. (laughing) No! Not that kind of bad. That’s not bad, that’s good. No, the kind of bad, like lying and cheating on her and stuff like that. . . . Yeah, that kind of bad. . . . I know you haven’t. You’ve been wonderful . . . .Okay. When? . . . Now? . . . I guess. . . . Okay, yeah. I have some money . . . . I don’t mind paying . . . . Marie Callendar’s? Yeah, okay. . . . Sure, no, I have enough. . . . See you in a few. Okay. Me, too, bye.

NONA gets lost in the romantic moment. LIGHTS DIM to a spot on her. She speaks to an imaginary Kenny like the woman she wants to be: assertive, confident and comfortably sexy. 48

NONA (cont.) Hi, honey. Come here. Now, now, don’t be shy, I won’t bite. (Purrs.)

NONA mimes a long, deep kiss with Imaginary Kenny. THESPIS moves right in front of her; she doesn’t see him, of course.

What, hon? . . . Lemme think . . . . No, I had something planned tonight, but I cancelled it. I’ve been goin’ and goin’ all week with meetings and drinks with friends and–. . . . What, hon? . . . Sure, yeah, let’s go out. . . . Mashed Grapes? You wanna go to Mashed Grapes? Yeah, fer sure. One of my favorite spots, let’s do it. But under one condition, hon. In the morning, you gotta let me cook you some big crispy waffles with big, juicy strawberries, and a bunch of bacon and steaming scrambled eggs, dripping with melted cheese and peppy green peppers, and some homemade beignets. . . .Yeah, they’re French, baby, you betcha. . . . You think I’m sexy now? Well, just wait ‘til you see me nekked, honey. . . .

NONA bites her lip, coquettishly, purring.

RON (O.S.) Dang, girl!

NONA is startled. LIGHTS UP QUICKLY. As NONA searches for the source of the voice, RON emerges from the wings, thoroughly amused and grinning ear to ear.

Where’d that come from?

NONA (mortified) What’re you doing here?

RON Came back to measure for The Gin Game set. What’re you doing?

NONA I’m. . . writing a play–a romantic comedy. I was trying some things out.

RON Hm.

NONA Sometimes its good to just . . . ya know . . . ?

RON Act it out, hear it said? 49

NONA Yeah.

RON So how far along are you?

NONA (getting uncomfortable with lying) Not . . . far. A few pages.

RON Hm.

NONA I might have to, I don’t know, I might write another scene first, it’s, like . . . .

NONA can’t lie to RON anymore and plops into a chair.

You knew.

RON nods. NONA covers her face. RON takes her hands away from her face and sits across from her.

How long have you been here?

RON Since “Damn-it-Nona-you-scared-the-shit-out-of-me.”

NONA You heard everything?! Ron, that’s not very nice! You should’ve said something.

RON I’m sitting back there waiting for you both to leave. (Beat.) This is theater, Nona. Eavesdropping’s an art form.

NONA You still should’ve said something. This isn’t a play, Ron, it’s real life.

RON Hm. Sorry.

NONA starts to exit.

Hillary and I? We don’t see eye-to-eye on much. But maybe she’s right about him. Don’t let him use you. And if he hurts you–and I mean this–I’ll kick his beautiful little butt into 50

RON (cont.) the next century.

NONA smiles. RON laughs.

NONA You won’t ever have to do that. He’s always a gentleman.

NONA exits through the house. RON looks around stage, pulls tape measure off his belt and begins measuring.

A SPOT of LIGHT comes up on one side of the stage. THESPIS moves into LIGHT, as LIGHT FADES on RON.

THESPIS Pity, joy, fear . . . surprise, terror, horror. Makes me think about Plato. “How did you make that leap?” Right? Think about it. We experience emotions at the hands of a talented writer or actor. Even though there’s no basis in fact to do so. And what did Plato write? That such a real reaction to something inherently unreal is a sign that someone isn’t in their right mind. He thinks it’s crazy. That’s what he wrote. You can Gaggle that. No. Goggle. Um . . . Google. Google it. So. If you come back after our break, does that mean you’re crazy? Think about it. See you in fifteen minutes.

(BLACK OUT.)

(END ACT I.) 51

ACT TWO

SETTING: Next morning. DAVIS’s studio. There is a small table cluttered with photographs, computer monitor and keyboard, a camera and lenses. To the side is a backdrop stand, light kit, and umbrellas for portrait photography. A chair and a stool sit outside the portrait shooting area, along with other props and toys he uses. Opposite the photography area is a futon set up for sitting.

AT RISE: DAVIS stands to the side of table sipping coffee and inspecting photographs. THESPIS looks over his shoulder. After a moment, THESPIS speaks to AUDIENCE.

THESPIS Well! All you crazy people came back! Ha! (Beat.) Stay calm. Who cares what Plato thinks? You’re not out of your minds. You philosophers out there have to agree that– (exaggerated pedantically) –his attempts at rational argument inevitably fell under his propensity for whipping up misleading analogies. (Beat.) If you asked him to write a recipe for Greek yogurt, he’d take ninety pages to explain it. (Beat.) Feeling emotions created by actors pretending to feel emotions isn’t crazy. It’s enriching. It’s enlightening. And it’s fun. I’m happy you all came back.

THESPIS sits on futon, watches DAVIS.

It’s the next morning in Davis Cotton’s photography studio. (Beat.) Chekov said, “If you are afraid of loneliness, do not marry.” When he said it, I don’t think he meant a man who lost his wife to tragic death. But perhaps it still holds true.

HILLARY (O.S.) Knock, knock!

HILLARY enters.

DAVIS Hey! I didn’t hear ya–were ya / knockin’?

HILLARY No, no, I just walked in–knock, knock–/ that was me knocking.

DAVIS Come on in. Coffee? 52

HILLARY (holding out paper) No, thanks. Read this.

DAVIS What is it?

HILLARY Came this morning. Miranda sent it to me.

DAVIS reads it.

Sexual harassment! Yeah! You believe it?! I’m being accused of sexual harassment–supposedly when I was directing Twelve Angry Men! Three years ago! They won’t even name who’s accusing me. How’m I supposed to defend myself, how’m I supposed to, to , to, clear myself–oh! and guess who played Juror Number Six–the house painter? Kenny Kobalt! Surprise!

DAVIS Calm down, it’s okay, we’ll figure this out, sit down.

HILLARY That little weenie. I can’t believe this is happening. They’re out to get me–to get us!

DAVIS (sitting on stool; reading e-mail) Okay, it’s from–who’s this from, who sent the e-mail?

HILLARY Arts editor at Thurman Arts & Entertainment Journal. Our local freebie arts rag. Run by a bunch of millennial morons whose idea of enjoying art is watching anime!

DAVIS So the Journal’s just askin’ for your comment on the accusation.

HILLARY We dated–a couple times–we dated during the run, during the run of Twelve Angry . . . Morons. DAVIS You and /–?

HILLARY Yes, yes! Kenny Kobalt! We dated during the run–and then right before closing, it wasn’t working for me–I mean, he was so, so immature, a manipulative whiner–/ I mean . . . . 53

DAVIS Did he ever say he felt like you were usin’ your power as the director to–this is kinda personal, I don’t know if I should even ask you this.

HILLARY (Beat.) Yes, I–we–did. Once. I admit . . . I was . . . smitten by him. He’s . . . very . . . charming–not really my type, but charming as hell–and I know that’s objectifying him, and I shouldn’t to do that, but that’s the way it is, and right now being a hypocrite is the last thing I’m worried about.

DAVIS Nothin’ wrong with bein’ attracted to someone. My question is . . . did he ever tell / you–

HILLARY No. The show was up and running. He came on to me. I swear. I kept my, you know, my, my attraction for him to myself. We were halfway through the run, and it was after a show, everyone was leaving, and we’re in the green room. He likes drinking the cold coffee left over from the concessions. He’s sitting there by himself. I sat down. Told him, you know, what a great performance he gave, we chitchatted about stuff, and then he just leaned over and kissed me. And then . . . it happened. (Beat.) How is that sexual harassment? No, I’m sorry. No, what’s going on here is–I’ve been thinking about this all the way over here–what’s going on here is I sorta dumped him. And he didn’t like it. He’s pretty much ignored me ever since. Never auditions for shows I’m directing. Said a few nasty things behind my back, but I can’t believe he’d stoop this low. Someone got to him.

DAVIS We don’t actually know if it’s him makin’ the accusation. But if it’s not true and they don’t even tell y’all who’s / makin’ the accusation–

HILLARY The severity of the accusation is all that matters. No one cares about the simplicity of the truth.

THESPIS That was / good.

DAVIS That was good. (Beat.) I’m havin’ some deja vu.

HILLARY How does the Journal expect me to respond? There were twelve men in the damn show! I dated one! I never used my, my so-called power as the director to make any man do anything! 54

DAVIS (reading e-mail) The accusation is that ya made repeated sexual comments to a male actor during rehearsals, makin’ him feel uncomfortable. Nothin’ like that ever happened, right?

HILLARY Of course not! That’s ridiculous! Someone got to Kenny and–wait a minute. Last night Nona asked me if you’d let him get cast in a show here. She’s seeing him. She thinks.

DAVIS What’s that got to do with this?

HILLARY I don’t know! I’m looking for commies behind every bush now. He’s not smart enough to try and take us down. But he might know who is. I tried to get Nona to find out, but she . . . wouldn’t play chess.

DAVIS Chess?

HILLARY It’s too calculated for her–never mind.

DAVIS Should you send the board your response?

HILLARY I already did. But will they actually believe me?

DAVIS This isn’t fair.

HILLARY I demanded they identify my accuser.

DAVIS They should, yes, absolutely, it’s only fair. I’m not gonna let anyone take advantage of you–or this theater. That’s a promise.

Pause.

HILLARY Thank you.

HILLARY calms down, looks around the studio. 55

DAVIS Nothin’ fancy. Kind of a hole-in-the-wall. Painted it, though. (pointing to futon) A place to flop, a work table.

HILLARY (looking at photographs) Heads & Tales Photography? Why do you spell Tales like the story–t-a-l-e-s?

DAVIS Head shots and kids.

HILLARY (surprised; crossing to photo area) You do kids?

DAVIS Portraits. Dress ‘em up in costumes. Photos tell the tales.

HILLARY I get it. Heads & Tales. Why kids?

DAVIS I love kids. Always have. Bobette and I planned to have some, but . . . we kept waitin’ for the right time–ownin’ our own home, better paychecks, you know how it goes, chasin’ milestones. And then she died.

HILLARY (picking up a toy) I’d heard you were a photographer, but I had no idea you were professional.

DAVIS Professional is a relative term. I get paid. I’m still learnin’ the ropes. Took it up after Bobette passed away. I love it.

HILLARY pauses, looking at him; something about DAVIS has aroused her interest in him. But she catches herself; finds her defensive weapon: humor.

HILLARY You love kids, you loved your wife, you treat people well– (pointing at DAVIS’ head) –oh, there it is! I thought I saw one! 56

DAVIS (touching top of head) What?

HILLARY A lovely, glowing little halo. It’s beautiful. You’re a saint, aren’t you? Saint Davis of–where you from again?

DAVIS Athens, Georgia.

HILLARY Saint Davis of Athens!

DAVIS I’m no saint. Plenty of creepy-crawlies in my past.

HILLARY Yeah?

DAVIS Yeah.

HILLARY Prove it.

DAVIS How? / I’m not–

HILLARY Nah, don’t do that.

DAVIS (Beat.) Okay. Ya want proof? Here’s proof. (Beat.) Before I met Bobette, I was engaged to be married. To a great gal from Atlanta. A cheerleader for the Atlanta Falcons–gorgeous. Two weeks before the weddin’, I called it off. Her dad was out–I don’t know–ten grand or somethin’. I pissed off a whole lot of good people.

HILLARY Why’d you call it off?

DAVIS Why? Well . . . took me a while to figger that one out. But I did. She was way too purdy for me. And she wasn’t the brightest star in the constellation either. But the main reason was she’d do whatever I asked. No argument. Pleasant as pie in sunshine. She never 57

DAVIS (cont.) contradicted me either. Miss Congenial. It was . . . kinda unreal. (Beat.) Here’s more proof: Once, I auditioned for a part in a movie, being filmed up in North Carolina. Got to the producer’s office early, stood outside with a clipboard. Told guys comin’ in that the audition was cancelled. Got their phone numbers and promised to call ‘em back to re- schedule. I was the only guy who read that day. And I got the part. Played a priest.

HILLARY laughs.

Oh, you like that, huh? Well, that ain’t saintly. That’s bad. That’s what you call actin’ naughty. Saints don’t pull stuff like / that.

HILLARY Okay, okay! (Beat.) Oh! You’re right! (pointing to his head) One on either side. Cute little devil horns.

Pause.

DAVIS So what about you? What do ya do when you aren’t directin’ / or–?

HILLARY High school drama teacher. Five years. After five years of wrangling teenagers in bad productions of Our Town and Oklahoma!, I was ready to blow my brains out. So I went back to school and now I’m a part-time paralegal. Family law.

DAVIS That’s terrific. Probably help a lot of people goin’ through tough times, I s’pose.

HILLARY It’s pretty raw, actually. Peels the skin right off your emotions. Parents behaving like children, children suffering. I’ve read too many redacted CPS reports. I’ve become . . . well, I find myself resistant to . . . feelings sometimes. I mean, I feel, I mean, we all feel things, but . . . .

DAVIS I get it. Sounds like an important job, though.

HILLARY gives him an impatient grin.

HILLARY Okay. . . if we–you and I–are going to work together–closely work together . . . I feel like clearing the air. 58

DAVIS I got Febreze.

She doesn’t laugh, then stands, walks away and turns back.

DAVIS Uh-oh. Not a good sign.

HILLARY What?

DAVIS Hillary stands, crosses away from Davis and suddenly turns back.

HILLARY Was it really that dramatic?

DAVIS Painfully.

DAVIS smiles, trying to lower the tension.

HILLARY I’ll bring it down. (Beat.) Okay. There. I’m trying to tell you something–something from the–from the, you know. (after a pause, blurting) I hated you! I hated you for getting the A.D. job! They walked right over me! I was next in line and those, those, those hapless dweebs on the board trampled right over my loyalty, my years of clawing up from, from, from painting sets and, and, and stage managing and directing–to the one place I wanted to be. And then I found out that Davis Cotton, a man no one knew, a man who I learned was taking over as Coastline’s Artistic Director in an e- mail–/an e-mail!

DAVIS That’s horrible!

HILLARY I felt betrayed.

DAVIS Yeah, that’s not right. I didn’t know anything ‘bout that.

HILLARY I didn’t mean you betrayed me. But you’re like–I don’t know–betrayal’s . . . waste? 59

DAVIS I’m the shit.

HILLARY No, you’re not the–I’m just . . . having a hard time. Working with you. When Courtney let us know she was leaving, it was–everyone kind of–I don’t know–figured. That I’d take over the company. And then I didn’t. I wanted to quit, I wanted to tell them to flush their number-two job right down the damn toilet!

Pause. DAVIS feels badly. HILLARY stands at the table.

(putting her hand on his) I don’t hate you. Okay? I don’t.

HILLARY notices and suddenly takes her hand away.

DAVIS Thank you. I’m relieved. Because I like you. As in–ya know–workin’. Together.

Uncomfortable pause. DAVIS nervously clears throat. He takes a sip of coffee.

Mornin’ phlegm.

Another pause as they look at each other, neither one able to evaluate their feelings. HILLARY looks away first.

We’ve never had the chance to sit down and talk like this.

HILLARY We’ve both been kinda busy. You’re acquainting yourself with the members of the board, the staff, donors / and–

DAVIS And didn’t you just co-produce the last show, before jumpin’ right in to directin’ The Gin Game? Heck, I don’t know how ya work a job and do everything ya do around here and still have a life.

HILLARY Simple: I don’t have one.

DAVIS (Beat.) I’m thrilled we’re gettin’ to know each other like this. 60

HILLARY (Beat.) I always worked on the season with Courtney. My input was important to her.

DAVIS And I want your help, too. I mean that.

HILLARY Let’s talk about that, okay? Telling me you’re going to turn us into a theater for new plays–a premiere house–how is my lack of input still wanting my help?

DAVIS Hillary, I’m just workin’ on it. I’m still forgin’ my own vision for this theater company.

HILLARY Forging . . . alone?

DAVIS For now, yeah, / it’s temporary.

HILLARY Until when?

DAVIS Hillary.

HILLARY I like to forge. Forging’s one of my favorite things to do. I forge–I don’t know–constantly. I can forge a vision as good as the next guy. Why can’t I forge with you?

DAVIS I . . . I don’t need help doin’ that. It’s my vision. Not ours. Not theirs. Mine.

HILLARY So you want my help doing–what? Carrying out your orders?

DAVIS No.

HILLARY Lockstep, mein herr?

DAVIS Hillary, it’s not gonna / be like that. 61

HILLARY (fake German accent) Ve vill do nottink / but the new!

DAVIS Hillary, please.

HILLARY sits on futon beside THESPIS.

HILLARY Last night you asked me to go along with one season of new plays and if it didn’t work you’d resign. I went home last night, laid in bed and thought, Hey, let him do it, let him fail and maybe I’ll get what I want. Maybe. I asked Courtney one time–right after I was bumped to Assistant A.D.–how she picked her seasons. Know what she said? She said, “They pick me.” And know what I thought? I thought that was so profound. Until three of her plays tanked. Horrible reviews, nearly empty houses, and our bottom line in the red. After a while, though, I got the guts to ask her why those three plays picked her. She smiled–a little embarrassed–and said, “They knew I had an ego. They knew I wasn’t paying attention. They knew I’d forgotten about my audience.”

Pause. THESPIS crosses and sits in chair in photo area. HILLARY looks at the empty space beside her. DAVIS crosses and sits next to her.

Lying in bed last night–not angry or jealous–I looked forward. Didn’t like what I saw.

DAVIS What’re you sayin’? My ego leads my vision?

HILLARY I’m saying, consider everyone’s future–including our patrons. Please don’t conduct experiments on everyone. Please don’t foist this vision on an entire community–a community you don’t know a damn thing about!

DAVIS They’re just people. Like everywhere else.

HILLARY People are different in different places. We have to consider how we build a season of plays that our community will clamor to see.

DAVIS (crossing to table) I’m not “clamorin’” for anythin’. That’s not my priority. My priority is innovation. Artistry. 62

HILLARY Innovation and artistry? At what expense? Survival? When the theater closes its doors, there is no innovation. The art’s over.

DAVIS (defensive) Just because this is my first time workin’ as Artistic Director doesn’t mean I’m inadequate!

HILLARY is stopped in her tracks by his honesty, to the point that she involuntarily LAUGHS. She catches herself and gains her composure again. As DAVIS watches her, he begins to see the humor in what he said, and starts to LAUGH.

Or maybe that’s what it does mean.

HILLARY (standing) If no one comes to see your new plays, your original works–whatever you want to call them–there won’t be another season for me to build after you leave us. I mean, if we don’t win the grant . . . we might not finish this season. You got that? The Foundation doesn’t give money to the most needy theater. It gives money to the one that offers the best season to the most people.

DAVIS finds a photograph of a baby in the pile on the table, holds it up.

DAVIS What do you see?

HILLARY Nah, don’t do that.

DAVIS shakes photograph for an answer.

A baby.

DAVIS Precious, right?

HILLARY Babies are precious. 63

DAVIS To me, new plays are kinda like babies. I mean that. Wouldn’t ya like to bring ‘em into the world, show ‘em off, watch ‘em mature and / grow?

HILLARY Oh, please, don’t. (Beat.) Antiques are rare and valuable. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to suggest we do a season of classics. Find a balance!

DAVIS We’re an arts organization. Every time the curtain rises, we risk failure. One night, the audience loves us; the next, they sit silently disappointed. Same actors, same play. Theater is risk.

HILLARY You’re willing to . . . / risk our–?

DAVIS Five years ago . . . five years ago, Hillary . . . I was sittin’ with Bobette on a swing on our porch in Athens. Workin’ at a little theater downtown, directin’ their annual musical, teachin’ actin’ at the community center, and workin’ days at the Georgia Museum of Art. (Beat.) One word described my life. Safe. My life was safe. And then . . . the one person securin’ my happiness was gone. It was an illusion.

HILLARY looks away.

Davis speaks from the heart, Hillary looks away. After a very brief pause–

HILLARY turns to him.

–Hillary turns back.

HILLARY (after long pause) I’m not very good at sharing pain.

DAVIS I’m not offerin’ any. (Beat.) Just trust me.

HILLARY (after long pause) Okay. I will. For now. We’ll try it your way.

DAVIS What made ya change your mind? 64

HILLARY Don’t ask me. Doesn’t matter. I support you.

DAVIS (Beat.) ‘Preciate it. I really do. I won’t let ya down.

HILLARY (standing) And Hillary exits.

DAVIS I think you and I’ll work well together.

HILLARY Let’s make that the goal.

DAVIS And this morning’s e-mail? I believe you. I support you.

HILLARY Thanks. ‘Bye.

DAVIS ‘Bye.

HILLARY exits. DAVIS contemplates his feelings. Briefly, he puts head in hands, and then looks off in the direction HILLARY exited.

THESPIS Take a picture. (Beat.) Yoo-hoo, over here!

DAVIS feels drawn to his portrait area, crosses with a camera. He looks directly at the chair where THESPIS sits. THESPIS rises and stands behind him as DAVIS continues to stare at the empty chair.

DAVIS (to imaginary Bobette) Hey, Bobbi. Don’t move. Sit just like that, sweetheart.

DAVIS slowly raises his camera and snaps a picture.

(struggling with emotion) What do you think of her? Been a while. If you got one, Bobbi, I could use a sign. 65

THESPIS crosses down to the AUDIENCE.

THESPIS I think what the heart may lose . . . the heart will find again.

CAST changes set to The Sandpiper beach café. Two small tables with three chairs each; one table down left and one down right. Center is a large plant or divider, so the occupants at the two tables cannot see each other. The tables are situated at a large window, which is established through dialogue, overlooking an esplanade at the beach.

Want one of those soap opera recaps? While they set the next scene? (Beat.) I’m going to do it anyway. (in a quiet but eager announcer voice) Coastline and Nemesis Theater Companies have both applied for a seventy-five-thousand dollar grant from a local foundation. Coastline has recently fired their Artistic Director, Courtney Manchester, for publicly humiliating a popular actor, Kenny Kobalt, in retribution for the chaos he created when playing McMurphy in their production of One Flew over the Cuckoo’s Nest. The response was–

THESPIS turns to the CAST.

–could you keep it down? I’m workin’ here!

CAST ignores him. He turns to AUDIENCE. In old-time melodrama narrator voice:

The response was unexpected. Coastline Theater Company is under attack; so is Hillary Hampshire. Shady men are working in a web of deception and fakery. Smearing and assassinating the character of human beings as if they were unworthy of receiving common decency. All to win. At any cost. Da-da-da-dum. (back to his own voice) Jerry Slaate and Karen Smith serve on opposing theater company boards and are in league–for what, we don’t know yet. Nemesis’s Artistic Director Beverly Hillstrom and board member Karen Smith are meeting with Theater Matters’ president Brock Navarro–booooooooo–at a little beach café called The Sandpiper. Cue the seagulls!

SOUND of SEAGULLS. LIGHTS up on The Sandpiper (both tables). BEVERLY HILLSTROM, a bohemian woman in her mid- to late-50s, BROCK NAVARRO, a self-serving, overly-cool and cavalier man of 35-40, dressed in a casual suit, clean-shaven, and KAREN SMITH sit at one table. KAREN drinks 66

water; BROCK wine; and BEVERLY a Bloody Mary, dipping the celery stick in and out and licking off the “blood.”

THESPIS (cont.) In another part of the café, Coastline’s board member and marketing director, Miranda Warner, sits waiting for someone.

MIRANDA sits alone, having finished lunch.

MIRANDA (looking out “window” into the sky) What’s with all the frickin’ sea gulls?!

THESPIS Cut the seagulls!

SOUND of SEAGULLS suddenly cuts out.

Play on!

BROCK (talking like the salesman he is) . . . And we’re just getting started. Our jockey has already put on his silks. We’ve saddled and left the paddock. It’s almost race time.

BEVERLY Damn right it’s a race.

BROCK Ladies, a marketing campaign like the one I’ve structured for Nemesis only works by controlling the continuity. A horse race is won off the track. I have to control what they see, I have to control what they think. And we’re not even at the gate yet.

BEVERLY Um. . . then where are we? . . . the paddock?

BROCK Let’s just say we’re starting our second circuit, we’re starting a second go-‘round in the walking ring, showing up, we’re just showing up, getting attention in the / walking ring.

BEVERLY (getting attention waving celery) Wait, wait, wait, are we in the paddock or in the walking ring? 67

BROCK Jockey’s dressed, horse is saddled / and we’re–

KAREN Bev, is walking in circles an efficient use of the theater’s money?

BEVERLY He’s not being literal, Karen.

KAREN I understand that, but I’m / taking his–

BROCK How much you know about a horse race, Karen?

KAREN Not much.

BEVERLY Saw one at Del Mar once. Bored out of my mind. (Chuckling.) Probably liked it a lot more if I’d first smoked a doobie.

BROCK Ladies, let me explain what’s going to happen.

BEVERLY Get past your entrenched female stereotype–it’s Beverly.

BROCK Beverly. All right. So this is what’s gonna happen: we’re gonna spin some stories out there–we’ve already got a couple out there, right? I’m gonna call that stage of this campaign the “walking ring,” got it? The walking ring. We’ve established that with the Stage Quest piece and the lady with the blog–oh, and that actor’s Facebook posts and Tweets.

KAREN “That actor” is Kenny Kobalt–one of the county’s best.

BEVERLY If you ask me, Kenny’s a little goody-two-shoes.

BROCK It doesn’t matter. He can be anything he wants. But to us, he’s a victim. Don’t forget that. And the race is gonna start. There’s an exact time that we gotta be in the gate–got it, ladies?–I mean, Beverly–are you following me? The Foundation makes its decision in a 68

BROCK (cont.) few days, and they’re watching all the horses in the race, watching each horse, inspecting how they walk / as it moves along by.

BEVERLY (imagining it all; bouncing in her seat) Walking in the walking ring.

BROCK We’re gonna parade to the post, and I’m your pony, I’m your escort pony, and this parade is where the players get clues about the horses–are they eager, are they alert, are they lethargic or–yikes!–are they getting nervous?

BEVERLY This little mare’s high-strung and fidgety and ready for some bud!

KAREN I’m not following this. Who are the players?

BROCK The players are the people betting on the horses–/

BEVERLY Betting on the / horses.

BROCK They’re the members of the Foundation’s executive committee. We want these players betting big. And we want them to bet on us.

BEVERLY It’s about the bet.

BROCK It’s about the bet.

KAREN Not the race.

BROCK Not the race.

BEVERLY And that’s because . . . ? 69

BROCK Betting on us means they award Nemesis the grant. Your season is the race–got it?–that’s the race they’re betting on. They don’t want to bet on the wrong horse. Know what happens if they bet on the wrong horse? They never bet on you again. Are you listening to me?

KAREN Sounds like that means we have to win the race, not just the bet.

BROCK Aren’t you confident you can win the race?

BEVERLY Who the hell knows? No one knows entirely what the public wants! What I did is find a niche. And I’ll find a confidence in my season, a season that will find a goddamn audience.

BROCK What kind of season would give you that confidence?

BEVERLY I mean, look, man, no one’s doing what we’re doing at Nemesis. No one. You go to theaters around here and you’re gonna see–oh! (waving vigorously out window; enunciated) Hey, Carla! You were fab-u-lous in Steel Mag-nol-ias! Stellar, Carla!

BEVERLY turns back to BROCK.

She was god-awful. (Beat.) So. At theaters around here. You’ll see more men than women on stage, you’re gonna see mainly male-dominated plays, no exaggeration.

BROCK Happens all over the state, / you’re right.

BEVERLY Plays written by men with mostly male characters. That’s what you get. Men, men, men. A torrent of testosterone! Nemesis is the only theater in the county giving a voice to women. Not that we don’t like men! We love men! They’re great for fixing shit! (Cackles.) Where they lack in the sack, they’re good under the hood. (Cackles.) But seriously, Nemesis belongs to women–women of every race, creed, color, / age, and sexual orientation.

BROCK All right. All right. I think that’s a winning horse! You know why? It’s a . . . / it’s a– 70

BEVERLY Stand out!

BROCK It’s a giddy-up!

BEVERLY (toasting with her drink) Hi-ho, Silver!

BROCK Away!

BEVERLY To the dames!

BEVERLY finishes off her drink.

BROCK Theater Matters will get you to the gate, Beverly. We’ll get you to the gate, we’ll show you off, make all the other horses look lame and all I need is one thing from you. (Beat.) A check.

KAREN You’ve already spent what the Board gave you?

BROCK Got a little left, but it’s not going to get us to the gate. Let’s talk about your season, let me hear what you got planned for next year.

BEVERLY Okay, we open with The Women of Lockerbie, / then The Vagina Monologues, Nunsense, Top Girls and we end it with the musical Quilters.

BROCK Killer. . . . Killer. . . . Killer . . . . Wow . . . . Killer season. Those are the kinds of plays Theater Matters loves to see produced. Nemesis wins, Beverly. By a furlong.

BEVERLY (seeing someone outside) Oh, shit. That’s Jerry Slaate. This place is a frickin’ magnet for theater people. He’s not coming in here, is he? You know who he is, right?

BROCK What–um–what do you mean? 71

BEVERLY He’s on the Coastline board. He got Courtney Manchester fired.

BROCK Manchester’s the one who fired that actor.

BEVERLY Kenny Kobalt.

BROCK Yeah, Kobalt wasn’t exactly a gold mine of help, but we dredged up a few nasty nuggets from his Tweets and Facebook page that makes Coastline look like what they are–in chaos. Tossed them into the theater sluice. You can bet the Foundation will read them.

JERRY enters, spots MIRANDA, they exchange a quick kiss on the lips, and he sits opposite her. BROCK and BEVERLY mime as the other scene is heard.

MIRANDA Already ate, couldn’t wait, I was starvin’.

JERRY I have a good excuse.

MIRANDA Ever look at that watch on your wrist?

JERRY Big, big melt-down at one of my shops. Power went out, frozen yogurt turned into sludge. Girl I got working in there had her own melt-down. She called 9-1-1, do you believe that? Kids these days haven’t an ounce of sense.

MIRANDA Jerry. You always got an excuse, so forget-about-it. Whatever. I believe you. Can we talk about last night?

JERRY Sure. What happened?

MIRANDA Davis is going to confront the guy from Theater Matters.

JERRY Brock Navarro, yeah, I know, Davis called me and asked for his number. 72

MIRANDA Why do you have his number?

JERRY Um . . . well, from when he came with his proposal to the board. Davis told me he was going to ask Navarro to stop the smear tactics. Politely, he said. You believe that?

MIRANDA Davis is polite. What can I say? That’s what he told us at the strategy meeting last night. We think Theater Matters is working for Nemesis.

JERRY (Beat.) How do you know?

MIRANDA Stage Quest quoted Brock directly. Guy slammed us for Courtney’s Facebook post about Kenny Kobalt. And don’t forget we told Navarro to take a hike when he tried selling us his marketing campaign. You were there.

JERRY I was there.

MIRANDA He scares me. Did you get the president’s e-mail this morning? About the Journal wanting Hillary’s side of the alleged sexual harassment?

JERRY Yeah. Guess the Journal got some information, a source saying she sexually harassed a man in one of our plays? Hard to believe, but . . .anything’s possible.

MIRANDA No, it’s not possible. There’s an emergency meeting.

JERRY Hm. Okay. Well, let me tell you what Davis told the board last week when you were absent.

MIRANDA Aren’t you even interested in who’s behind this?

JERRY Maybe on the verge of being interested. Closing in on curious.

MIRANDA And why didn’t you tell anybody about Davis doin’ new works? You were at the meeting 73

MIRANDA (cont.) after our interview with him. We all thought he meant something totally different, and you knew what he meant. You never made a peep about it.

JERRY Peep. Is it my place to explain everything to everybody? It’ll be fine. He comes up with a season we don’t like, we don’t approve it. Period. But let me tell you what happened when you missed last Wednesday’s board meeting. And where were you?

MIRANDA I had . . . another meeting. Blah-blah-blah. I couldn’t miss it.

JERRY What meeting?

Pause, as MIRANDA struggles to decide to tell him.

Miranda. You’re the one who said, “no secrets.” First date, remember? We both promised. What meeting?

Pause.

MIRANDA All right. (Beat.) I got my one-year chip!

JERRY What?

MIRANDA At the meeting, I got my one year chip.

JERRY (Beat.) You’re a drunk.

MIRANDA Don’t be an ass, Jerry! I’m an alcoholic.

JERRY Over the last three months, you’ve turned down every opportunity for a drink. Remember when I asked if you were Mormon? That would’ve been a good time to come clean with me, but you didn’t.

MIRANDA I’m not gonna admit I’m Mormon when I’m not. Anyway, I was going to tell you. 74

JERRY When? We’ve been sleeping together for three months!

MIRANDA Keep it down.

JERRY You haven’t been volunteering at a woman’s shelter. You lied to me.

MIRANDA I know. I’m workin’ on it, okay? Lyin’s part of it. It’s a disease, Jerry.

JERRY Okay, Miranda, it’s a disease. Let’s move on. I’ve talked to some board members / and–

MIRANDA You’re bein’ a dick.

JERRY I’m trying to tell you what happened in the board meeting.

MIRANDA You’re a smart guy, Jerry. How can you be so dumb?

JERRY Can we talk about what Davis said / in the board meeting?

MIRANDA What’re you trying to do?

JERRY I’m trying not to embarrass you with facts.

MIRANDA Facts? What the hell do you know about it? It’s an official goddamn disease!

JERRY A disease? Yeah, well, that concept is about as phony as a three-dollar bill. It’s a hoax. A hoax repeated over and over until it became the truth. Like theater gossip, like political op research. What do I know about it? I’ll tell you what I know about it. (Beat.) This disease concept started in the 1800s–yeah, over two hundred years ago. A quack named Dr. Benjamin Rush said people who drank too much alcohol were diseased. But he used this idea to promote his prohibitionist political platform. He also believed that political dissension, dishonesty and being of African-American descent were diseases. Got it, so far? Okay, more facts: In the mid-60s, an early member of AA–a woman named Marty 75

JERRY (cont.) Mann–who names a woman “Marty?”–got the so-called recovery community to adopt Rush’s disease theory. She hooked up with–well, just say–a slightly dubious man of science named E.M. Jellinek. His friends called him “Bunky.” Now, Jellinek’s study was funded by–oh, guess who?–Marty Mann. And someone else–I don’t remember the name. Stay with me now: Jellinek and Mann were up to their eyeballs in this junk research. Publications made them out to be scientists. Like hell. Scientists, my ass. They were researchers with a theory–and an agenda. They were frauds. Their study was bogus. The surveys they used were based on Jellinek’s conclusions. Which came from a handpicked group of drunks. Like out of 158 questionnaires, 60 of them were conveniently not included. His conclusion was based on less than 100 handpicked drunks chosen by that little sweetheart Marty Mann. And here’s where the plot thickens: Mann was after financial support from the rich. To get her little fingers on their charitable dollars, she had to wash out the stain of homelessness and what used to be called the “bowery drunk”–that dirty little alcoholic. Get rid of the stigma and–oh my achin’ liver!–the problem magically belongs to the general population. Including the wealthy. “Bunky” published this bunk in a book he wrote, The Disease Concept of Alcoholism, which was based on a chosen few who fit Mann’s preconceptions. Ah, but years later? Whaddaya think happens, huh? Well, Yale University asked him to disprove his own findings. He obliged. Guess what? His findings didn’t stand up to scientific scrutiny. (Beat.) Congratulations, Miranda, on choosing not to drink. Now if you can stop lying to me, we’ll get back to normal.

MIRANDA is pissed and hurt.

Be pissed. My pop was a drunk. (Beat.) Okay, back to business. (Beat.) Some board members are already wishing we hadn’t hired Davis. I think he should stay. Let him do his new plays. We’ve been doing Courtney’s crap for years. Okay, why you looking at me like that?

MIRANDA I don’t know what I ever saw in you.

JERRY Net worth one point one million, I.Q. of 125, and I’m pretty good in bed. Choose one. Take some breaths. Maybe it’ll all come back to you. I gotta drain the lizard.

JERRY exits. MIRANDA hurt and angry, notices his iPhone and gets on it. Tapping, scrolling, and then peers at the screen. She looks up.

MIRANDA Brock Navarro?

AT OTHER TABLE: 76

KAREN Bev, you want to spend more money on this?

BEVERLY We’re invested. We can’t afford not to. Call some board members, see if you can get them to pow-wow and authorize what he’s asking for.

KAREN Now?

BEVERLY Yes, now. We’re here, we’re in the paddock, so / let’s get this race on!

BROCK Walking ring, walking ring.

KAREN I’ll take it outside.

KAREN rises and begins to exit, stopping momentarily behind BEVERLY to give BROCK the eye. BROCK recognizes the suspicion on her face, smiles and waves. KAREN hesitates; BEVERLY feels KAREN behind her and turns to her.

BEVERLY What’re you still doing here?

KAREN (nervous; waving at BROCK) Waving goodbye to Mr. Navarro.

KAREN exits.

BROCK (rubbing his hands together) We’re headed for the gate. Saddled, silks on, with a pony escort. And I’m your pony!

BROCK whinnies and BEVERLY laughs. DAVIS enters and comes to their table.

DAVIS I deeply apologize for the interruption, Beverly. Could I join y’all? 77

BROCK (standing) And who are you?

DAVIS (offering hand) Davis Cotton.

BEVERLY (to BROCK) New Artistic Director for Coastline Theater Company.

BROCK (shaking DAVIS’s hand) Oh, of course. Brock Navarro, Theater Matters.

BEVERLY Plop yourself down. Congratulations on your new position. Bowsy-wowsy, you’re looking great. Been a while. Davis directed a show for us last year.

DAVIS Agnes of God.

BEVERLY Great show. Great job you did, too. Enjoying our fabulous California sun? Davis hails from Alabama.

DAVIS Georgia.

BROCK (laughing) Welcome to America!

DAVIS Where ya from?

BROCK Chicago, originally. But I’ve lived all over this great country. Name a big city, I left a root.

BEVERLY Are you here with people? 78

DAVIS Nope. Here alone. Oh, and um, Mr. Navarro, don’t get mad at Jillian. I bent the truth with her.

BROCK You called / Jillian?

BEVERLY His secretary?

DAVIS Ya weren’t returnin’ my calls, so I told her I had a meetin’ with y’all today, and she thought I was supposed to be here, and so . . . here I am. (to BEVERLY) Y’all know what this guy said to Stage Quest?

BEVERLY I don’t read that shit. That’s for actors and the public.

BROCK I said, “Coastline Theater Company is shooting themselves in the foot.” And I was right. And I think I said when you go after an actor with nothing behind him but / accolades–

DAVIS (to BEVERLY) Beverly, please stop the smear campaign against our theater company.

BEVERLY Smear campaign? What smears?

BROCK We’re a non-profit marketing group, Davis. Theater Matters carefully watches the trends and activities of theater companies all across the fruited plain, my friend, / and–

DAVIS We from Georgia first share some time playin’ football or at least some fly fishin’ before we call each other friends. If ya want to go fishin’, I’ll plan us a trip to the Kern as soon as ya stop your so-called “marketin’.” Beverly, ya know I’m a fair person and I know y’all want /what’s best–

BROCK We’re about the truth.

DAVIS And the truth is, y’all’s about winnin’ at all costs. 79

BROCK We’re about invigorating California / theater.

DAVIS And I’m sorry but I’m about done with your interference in my theater company.

BROCK And I’m about done with your interference here. Take a hike, Bubba.

DAVIS (to BEVERLY) Someone’s falsely accusin’ an associate of mine of sexual harassment.

BEVERLY Maybe he did it.

DAVIS It’s a she. And the Journal’s writin’ a story. They sent an e-mail to our board requestin’ an interview. I visited their offices before comin’ here. After they hear her side, they won’t print it. I showed this photo of Mr. Navarro to the Entertainment Editor–nice lady named Nancy. She wouldn’t admit nothin’, of course–you know, because entertainment fluff pieces are investigative journalism too. But on my way out, I showed it to the nice receptionist–girl from Louisiana, in fact, named Heather-Lynn–and she said she remembered him comin’ by a few days ago, spendin’ a good thirty minutes with Nancy. Remember Nancy, Mr. Navarro?

BEVERLY I don’t know what to tell you, Davis. All we’re doing here is planning for the future. Brock, you’re not doing anything . . . smeary, are you?

BROCK No, ma’am.

DAVIS False accusations are very serious, Mr. Navarro. Please arrange to have the liar workin’ for you to withdraw his accusation.

BEVERLY Davis, you’re very polite. But you’re making some pretty wild accusations yourself.

DAVIS I know. And I apologize if I’ve got it all wrong. But I think Mr. Navarro here is usin’ you, Beverly. 80

BROCK (standing) Who the hell do you think / you are?!

BEVERLY Sit down!

BROCK sits. KAREN enters, staying back to listen.

You’re out of line, Davis.

DAVIS No, I’m not, Beverly. And I promise y’all if you have anything to do with repeatin’ this false accusation, I won’t be so polite.

BEVERLY (sudden, involuntary fury) Is that a threat?! ‘Cause you got a lot of gall manipulating your way to this table today to make accusations and threats! Back it up! (Beat.) Do you have a woman in your life, Davis? Because this display of toxic masculinity should be reported!

DAVIS I don’t even know what that means.

KAREN Davis?

DAVIS (standing) Hey, Karen.

KAREN What’s going on?

DAVIS Just leavin’. Beverly, thanks for your time. Brock? Break a femur.

BROCK slowly rises.

‘Bye, Karen.

KAREN Thanks for the costume I borrowed last night, Davis. I have a question about the costume. Should I call Hillary about it? 81

DAVIS nods, getting KAREN’s inference and exits.

BEVERLY He’s on to you, man.

BROCK Purdy-boy’s trolling, he’s fishing. But he’s throwin’ a line with no bait.

JERRY returns to his table; he and MIRANDA mime conversation.

We’re gonna rise to the next level–up, up and away! But: It’s about to get rougher.

BEVERLY How rough?

BROCK Enough to get the Foundation’s attention. Enough to make them think twice about giving them a dime. The e-mail about sexual harassment their board got this morning’s got their attention. But they aren’t gonna be able to defend it. I got someone on the inside of Coastline.

BEVERLY Who?

BROCK Best I keep that to myself for now. The Journal will have to run with the story. And then the Weinstein tsunami will take over.

BEVERLY Is it true?

BROCK Does it matter? I’m just passing it on. If someone made it up, they made it up. That’s not our problem. Of course, the Journal wants our advertising dollars, so . . . .

BEVERLY It better not backfire on us.

BROCK This isn’t my first horse race.

Pause.

Karen, what does your contact at the Foundation tell you? 82

KAREN Beverly!

BEVERLY He needed to know.

BROCK That’s really killer, Karen, having an inside contact at the Foundation. Wow.

BEVERLY Tell him what your sister-in-law told you.

KAREN (Beat.) They’ve narrowed it down to three. Nemesis, Coastline and an unnamed third company.

BEVERLY Third Company? Who?

KAREN I don’t know.

BEVERLY We have to know the third theater, Karen. Right, Brock?

BROCK Absolutely. We can eliminate Coastline, but this third theater could win the grant.

BEVERLY It’s for the dames, Karen. Our crusade’s beginning!

KAREN Aren’t we sort of–keeping with Brock’s race horse analogy–doping the horse?

BROCK Karen, Karen, Karen, are you kidding me? We gotta do what we gotta do. We gotta get out the truth. It’s not like we’re killing anybody!

KAREN looks at BEVERLY.

BEVERLY (lowering voice) Speaking of doping. Who wants to join me in the parking lot for a little toke of cannibis sativa 2020 [or insert year]? 83

BROCK looks at KAREN.

KAREN Yeah, no. You guys go ahead.

BEVERLY Did you call the board?

KAREN Waiting to hear back.

BEVERLY Get Brock some money! That’s your mission!

BROCK finishes off his drink.

BROCK I accept your invitation, Beverly. (standing, pointing at check) Good seeing you, Karen. You’ll get that?

BEVERLY (standing) The theater’ll get it. Pay it, Karen, and submit a request for reimbursement. Good luck with the Board. (raising her fist in salute) For the dames!

KAREN half-heartedly raises a fist. BROCK and BEVERLY exit, leaving KAREN alone. KAREN gets on her phone.

KAREN Hillary? Karen Smith. Can we talk?

OTHER TABLE:

MIRANDA You may be smart, but you don’t know everything. Workin’ steps is good for me. So shut the hell up.

JERRY It wasn’t personal. 84

MIRANDA Sure it was. I’m not talkin’ to you about it anymore.

JERRY I’m sorry. Can we talk about the trip?

KAREN rises and exits.

MIRANDA I can’t go.

JERRY Why not? You said you’d work / it out.

MIRANDA My kids, Jerry.

JERRY Your ex can’t take them?

MIRANDA He works, Jerry, so drop it.

JERRY (pointing out window) There’s a real world out there, Miranda. I’d like to share it with you. But every time I plan something, you got the kids, or Jake is working, or this or that, and–.

JERRY stops mid-sentence, seeing someone on the street.

MIRANDA That’s Karen Smith.

JERRY Yeah.

MIRANDA She sees us. We should invite her in! (waving to “Karen” to come in) Come in, come in! Join us!

JERRY (talking between his teeth) No, no, don’t do that. 85

MIRANDA Stop tellin’ me what to do!

JERRY Shit.

MIRANDA I like her. And maybe she knows who’s behind this media attack on us.

KAREN enters, giving JERRY a long, hard look.

Karen, hi! Join us.

KAREN I was just leaving. Lunch with people.

JERRY Anyone we know?

KAREN Beverly and a couple of her friends.

MIRANDA How’s it going over there? Anything new at Nemesis?

KAREN Good, good. Nothing new. What’re you two up to?

JERRY Talking shop, as usual.

MIRANDA Actually, Jerry’s lecturin’ me about not goin’ to Pismo with him.

JERRY Miranda, she’s not / interested–

MIRANDA Jake–my ex–has to work and I have two kids, you know?–two girls–and he’s not gettin’ with the program, havin’ a hard time with it. Explain it to him, Karen–you’re divorced, right?

KAREN has fixated on JERRY. MIRANDA looks at JERRY; JERRY looks out the window. 86

MIRANDA (cont.) Karen?

KAREN I’m separated. But I know exactly what you mean.

KAREN looks squarely at MIRANDA, then at JERRY.

Really, Jerry? Pismo? (to MIRANDA) First out-of-town trip, right?

MIRANDA Yeah.

KAREN Yeah.

MIRANDA (Beat.) Wait. Are you two . . . ?

KAREN Yes. Couple weeks. You?

MIRANDA (standing) Three months.

KAREN Three months? Jerry!

JERRY I’m sorry, all right? I can’t make up my mind. You’re both . . . wonderful. (Beat.) Hey. What do you think? The three of us! We could make it work!

MIRANDA Make what work? Shut up. (to KAREN) Was one of your lunch guests a guy named Brock Navarro?

KAREN Yes. 87

MIRANDA (holds up JERRY’s phone on table) I read your texts, Jerry. You and Navarro are up to your eyeballs in shit together.

KAREN (reading texts) Well, look at this.

JERRY Miranda. Karen. Sit down. Please.

KAREN What’re you getting out of it?

MIRANDA What a, what a, traitor. Helpin’ Nemesis? Bringin’ down Coastline? What’re you doin’?

JERRY Come on. Sit down. Let’s talk. Let’s have a drink.

KAREN (to MIRANDA) He wants to have a drink.

MIRANDA I’m an alcoholic; what could one drink hurt?

KAREN He wants a drink.

KAREN hands a glass of water to MIRANDA and picks up one for herself. A silent exchange, then:

KAREN Cheers!

The WOMEN dump water over his head. MIRANDA hands back his phone and the women exit. THESPIS enters, stands behind JERRY, who wipes his face.

THESPIS I warned you about this guy, didn’t I?

JERRY makes a call on his cell. CAST begins to strike café. 88

JERRY Brock. It’s Jerry. We gotta talk. (Beat.) Are you holding your breath? . . . I can hear you holding your breath, I hear the little squeak in your throat–who’s that? Is that Beverly? . . . What’s she laughing at? . . . What’s so funny? Why’re you laughing? . . . You’re stoned!

JERRY’s chair is practically ripped out from under him before he stands up and exits. CAST sets up next scene on the CTC stage with a card table and two chairs, some materials from set building, and a fake plant or two. RON is working on set. DAVIS sits at card table.

THESPIS In Oscar Wilde’s essay, “The Decay of Lying,” he opined, “Life imitates art far more than art imitates life.” That’s because our aim in life is to find expression. Not wealth. Express what we feel. Express what we think.

So what do we think about Davis and Hillary? I think they do well imitating life with art. But I think they are about to cross a threshold of revelation–exhortation–edification–and a host of other multi-syllabic nouns. Will they replace the old with the new? Will their art ultimately imitate their lives?

We’re back on the CTC stage, where RON is beginning work on The Gin Game set. (Beat.) Play on!

RON Can’t get enough of this place you have to come down on a Saturday?

DAVIS Hillary wanted to meet here to talk about the show.

RON (half to himself) I can’t remember if the picket fence runs all the way downstage.

DAVIS Got the floor plan?

RON It’s around somewhere, I better get it. She’ll give me grief if I don’t get it exactly right.

RON begins to exit.

DAVIS Can I ask you somethin’ personal? 89

RON Long as I don’t have to take off my clothes.

DAVIS You and Hillary. Why don’t y’all get along?

RON Um . . . good question. We used to hang out a lot. She used to show up with a six-pack while I worked on sets. Sometimes a whole box of cookies. We got to know each other pretty good. She knows I’m an old male chauvinist pig. She also knows I’m all snort. After she directed Twelve Angry Men, though, something changed. She and Kenny had a thing going. It was kind of hush-hush. I made the horrible mistake of mentioning it in a production meeting. I don’t know why, but it really embarrassed her. I apologized. But then he dumped her, which made things worse. She’s never forgiven me.

DAVIS Kenny broke it off?

RON Yeah. Kenny’s an idiot. (Beat.) If you haven’t figured it out yet, she’s the full package. If she could just figure out how to fit you in, you’d be getting a great lady there. That’s what you’re really asking me, right?

DAVIS “I’m reviewin’, the sit-u-a-tion . . . .” It’s risky.

RON I’ll deny I ever said this, but . . . she’s worth it.

HILLARY enters. DAVIS Hillary!

DAVIS stands, pulls out her chair and she sits.

HILLARY A southern gentleman, thank you.

RON looks on. HILLARY turns to him.

What?

RON Floor plan. 90

RON exits.

HILLARY (smiling) What’s with him?

DAVIS (smiling back) Ya do have a great smile.

HILLARY You say that like–I don’t know–like you’re agreeing with somebody.

DAVIS When ya smile, it’s . . . boom.

HILLARY Boom? Oh, man.

DAVIS Maybe even . . . bah-room! Ya have a wonderful smile. Hey, twenty years from now, you’re not goin’ to accuse me of somethin’, / are you?

HILLARY Oh, yeah. Soon as this meeting’s over, I’m taking notes: date, time, quotes, how horrible you made me feel.

DAVIS smiles.

You’ve got a pretty fetching smile yourself.

DAVIS smiles bigger–too big.

Oh, that’s sexy.

DAVIS Okay, where’s my notebook? I’m takin’ down my own notes!

They both laugh.

HILLARY Speaking of sexual harassment . . . the Journal and the board are talking, thanks to you. Board’s trying to get the name of the man who accused me. It’s not a big mystery, though. It’s Kenny. Can’t be anyone but. 91

DAVIS They should tell ya. And the sooner the better.

HILLARY I’m confident the truth’ll come out. Very, very soon.

DAVIS That’s my hope.

Pause.

So. Our very first artistic meetin’. Rehearsals goin’ well?

HILLARY Yeah. Listen, um . . . I called you here today, / because–

DAVIS Tell me a little ‘bout how you see The Gin Game.

HILLARY Could I first tell you something?

DAVIS Okay.

HILLARY Um . . . I invited Miranda and Karen here today.

DAVIS Okay. Why Karen? What’s goin’ on?

HILLARY It’s better if Karen tells you.

DAVIS Okay. Why didn’t they come to me directly?

HILLARY So, let’s talk about The Gin Game.

DAVIS Hillary.

HILLARY They were more comfortable talking with me. I told them they needed to talk to you. 92

HILLARY (cont.) (Beat.) The Gin Game. Well, with just two actors, we can really explore, look for the author’s intent. Cast is putting meat on the bones of these two great characters. And the themes! The baggage we carry. Weller’s struggle with God. The undiscovered force, the universal defiance and Weller’s belief that he’s been dealt a crappy hand in life. I see the card game–the playing of gin–as elevating Weller’s and Fonsia’s failure to rise above their personal nature.

DAVIS Sounds familiar.

HILLARY It does, doesn’t it? Art imitates life, right?

THESPIS Life imitates art.

DAVIS hears something, looks around.

HILLARY Davis?

DAVIS Life imitates . . . art. (Beat.) Ever been married?

HILLARY Um . . .almost. Once.

THESPIS Life imitates . . . .

DAVIS Are you . . . seein’ anyone now?

HILLARY Whoa. Where’s this coming from?

THESPIS Gin!

DAVIS closes his eyes, shakes his head, hearing a voice perhaps.

DAVIS Maybe you and I could . . . play gin sometime. 93

HILLARY Euphemistically?

DAVIS Well, yeah, I’m just–to help us rise above our, um . . . our natures? I’m tryin’ to get to know you better. You don’t have to–. That was–that was artless of me. And rude. Never mind. I don’t know what I’m tryin’ to say.

HILLARY (after a pause) I think you’re asking me if I’m seeing anyone. No, I’m not seeing anyone. I don’t have the time to see anyone. Not seriously, anyway. If I wasn’t meeting with you, I’d be upstairs helping Nona with props.

DAVIS Yeah. (Beat.) Nona’s somethin’, isn’t she? She’s a real asset to the theater.

HILLARY She’s very nice. If she didn’t have theater, well . . .I think it’s good for her, you know?

DAVIS That’s a peculiar way of describin’ somebody who’ll do about anythin’ for you.

HILLARY I’m not trying to be mean.

DAVIS Nona defines her life by what she does for other people.

HILLARY Okay. And how do you know that?

DAVIS She told me.

HILLARY You had a conversation with her about how she defines her life?

DAVIS I’m pretty social. I want to know what y’all think, how y’all get along–or don’t.

HILLARY Okay. So did she say something about me? 94

DAVIS Really want to know?

HILLARY hesitates, nods.

She looks up to you. She likes you. Said you’re the best director we have. Said actors love workin’ with you. HILLARY (shrugging with false modesty) She’s exaggerating. Nona’s sweet. After six years working together . . . ?

DAVIS She, uh . . . also said you sometimes . . . maybe . . . bully people? Sometimes?

HILLARY She said that? “Bully”?

DAVIS She respects you very much. She told me the biggest–what was the word she used? The biggest payoff workin’ on a show with you was gettin’ one of those big smiles you’re so stingy with.

HILLARY Stingy.

DAVIS She said a smile means she did somethin’ special, somethin’ right and important. I think that’s amazin’. To get that kind of respect.

HILLARY is slightly embarrassed, struggles to deal with his having talked to Nona about her.

We weren’t talkin’ behind your back. It was just a conversation about what she did for the theater and how she felt about it.

HILLARY Oh! It was Nona! She’s why you noticed my smile.

DAVIS No.

HILLARY Yeah. 95

DAVIS Actually, no. (Beat.) I noticed it the first time I saw you. In the foyer. You were talkin’ to an older couple, season subscribers, I think. Openin’ night of our last show. Wore black jeans and a forest-green top. Had on these jangly silver earrings.

Pause.

HILLARY You know your problem? You’re too damn nice. Might be harsh to say, but . . . I have a hard time with that. Kinda like the problem you had with that cheerleader you almost married. (Beat.) And to be honest, I don’t have a clue what you were wearing when we met.

DAVIS nods.

It was . . . it was because–okay, um . . . I was busy . . . noticing your eyes.

DAVIS Bloodshot?

HILLARY You know what I mean.

DAVIS Thank you. (Beat.) And I don’t think you’re a bully. Nona respects you. You’re well- liked around here, Hillary. I hope you and I can find a way to . . . .

HILLARY Kumbaya?

DAVIS smiles.

Hey, we’re noticing smiles and eyes. Who knows what’s next.

BROCK enters down aisle, leaps onto stage and shoves his cell phone in DAVIS’s face.

BROCK What the hell is this!?

DAVIS (Beat.) That’s a cell phone. 96

BROCK I’m in no mood for jokes!

DAVIS And you’re interrupting a meeting.

BROCK Read this! No! I’ll read it! (reading) “Brock Navarro, president of Theater Matters, is rewriting the smear game by creating scandals and fake news to help his clients win grants in California. By impure”–really? Impure? “By impure creation, disregarding accuracy, Navarro repeats themes until it is repeated by social and mainstream media and becomes the narrative. Navarro’s so-called narrative, though, by some is called a smear.” Read it! (to HILLARY) Who’re you?

DAVIS reads off cell phone, scrolling.

HILLARY (offering her hand) Hillary Hampshire. We met back when you came to sell us on your stupid / marketing campaign.

BROCK (ignoring HILLARY; to DAVIS) I’m not gonna get my panties twisted over this nonsense.

HILLARY Oh, that sounds snug.

BROCK These “anonymous” sources claim–. . . it doesn’t matter–it’s all bullshit. And I know you’re behind it. Cotton, you’re new around here, and it’s not going to go well for you or this shit-hole theater company by slandering me, because you don’t know who you’re dealing with!

HILLARY Slander is oral–you mean libel.

RON, carrying a drill, enters down aisle to watch.

DAVIS (reading cell; concerned) Is your mom really serving eight years at Chowchilla for fraud, theft and terrorists threats? 97

BROCK Get this straight: You don’t print shit about my mother! Got it? Mom’s out-of-bounds!

DAVIS Looks like they talked to your ex-wife.

BROCK She’s mental! Crazy as bat-shit, man! Get your facts straight!

DAVIS They’re not my facts. I don’t know this writer. I had nothin’ to do with this.

NONA enters from backstage with a prop.

BROCK Yeah, yeah, right, you don’t know nothin’. Bullshit! You know I’ve set up a powerful marketing campaign for Nemesis–I tried to do the same for this flea-bitten theater, but you turned me down. Oh, my, do you hear that?! “And they’re off!” Your crowbait nag missed the starting gate! That’s right! You’re watching the race, wishing you’d been better organized, pissed that your competition is flying around the track at breakneck speed, heading for the finish line, while you’re watching the race from the barn on a little TV with bad reception!

RON I’m pretty sure we all have cable now.

HILLARY There’s more than one horse race, Mr. Navarro.

BROCK Yeah, well . . . yeah. There’s more than one horse race. But the Scanlon Foundation grant is just the first of the races you’re gonna lose. Theater Matters doesn’t have a horse in the race. We’re rooting for good theater. There’s plenty of competition out there. Crappy TV and movies and Netflix and Roku and rampant agoraphobia, got it? Or maybe you haven’t noticed how hard it is to get folks to come see a play. We gotta give them theater’s best or they’ll just flop into a La-Z-Boy recliner, flip to YouTube on their Otter- protected iPhone and watch PewDiePie. We can’t experiment! Leave that to the off-off- Broadway bunch! (grabbing back his cell phone) And this bullshit about Beverly Hillstrom is–well, I’m recommending she sue the shit out of this writer for writing all this bullshit.

MIRANDA and KAREN enter down aisle and mount stage behind BROCK. 98

BROCK (cont.) Who cares if Beverly had a drug charge a billion years ago? Who cares? Who cares if her thankless daughter won’t talk to her? No one cares! And if no one cares, there’s nothing to believe! It’s all fiction, fantasy, fairytales, and fables! (Beat.) Who cares?

KAREN I care.

DAVIS Hey, Karen.

KAREN Hi, Davis. Hi, everyone. (Beat.) Brock.

BROCK realizes he’s surrounded. JERRY enters down aisle and comes to the stage. HILLARY smiles.

BROCK (to JERRY) What’s goin’ on?

JERRY Got a text from Hillary about an emergency meeting. What’s the emergency?

HILLARY Karen was just about to tell us. Karen?

KAREN Jerry and I applied for the foundation grant. On behalf of our own theater company.

BROCK gives JERRY a stern look.

BROCK Backstabbing / traitors.

DAVIS While you’re here, you’ll be civil.

MIRANDA Or Ron’ll screw your head to the stage.

BROCK (to KAREN) That’s why you’re inside source didn’t know about the third theater company in the running for the grant. It was you! 99

DAVIS What’re you talking about?

HILLARY Get it all out there, Karen.

NONA This is like the final scene in an Agatha Christie play!

EVERYONE looks at NONA.

You know, the resolution? Where the audience finds out who the bad guys are and who did what and–. (Beat.) Sorry.

HILLARY Karen?

KAREN This is very, very embarrassing. I have a sister-in-law who’s the development coordinator . . . for the Scanlon Foundation. She’s been . . . leaking information to me. The grant committee’s biggest interest this year is in jump-starting children’s theater. Dorothy Scanlon–the Foundation’s benefactor–has a daughter. Her daughter had a little boy. Dorothy’s very first grandchild. So, in mid-stream, she changed their mission this year, focused their grants. She wants to see more children’s theater. Now you all know. Level playing field again. I’m going after it. The right way. I’ve never done anything like this before. Cheating. Taking advantage of . . . people I like. I’m ashamed of myself.

HILLARY and MIRANDA hug her.

DAVIS So, Jerry. You’re on our board. Sounds like you pulled a Judas. You should’ve resigned and then done your own thing. Would’ve been fine.

JERRY It’s just business, Davis.

RON (imitating a gangster) Aaayyyyy! It’s just business, Davis!

DAVIS Don’t act like this is okay, because it’s not.

JERRY Don’t make a big deal out of it. I was just feeling things out, I was / just– 100

DAVIS Shut up and listen. You’re gonna hear this. (Beat.) You’re a liar. You’re disloyal. You’re an opportunist. You’re corrupt.

JERRY’s stung, looks around the room at everyone.

Look at me.

JERRY looks at him, crosses his arms. DAVIS steps close.

As a member of our board, you showed a complete disregard for your fiduciary duty to this theater company.

JERRY (pissed, humiliated; exaggerated southern accent) Fi-du-ci-ary! That’s quite the word, comin’ from a grits-eatin’, deep-fried Georgia hick. You’re over your head, Davis. You’re / the captain of a–

BROCK Jerry, shut up!

DAVIS Most people who don’t know you think you’re smart. Well, the cover’s been blown on that now, hasn’t it? (to KAREN) How’d you get mixed up in this?

KAREN Frozen yogurt. I let him do a fund raiser for me when I ran Paradise Players. After they fired me, I decided to start my own theater company. But I didn’t have the money. When Janey–my sister-in-law–told me about the Foundation’s interest in children’s theater, I got excited. (Beat.) I called Jerry. As an investor. That’s all. At first.

JERRY Karen, baby.

KAREN I was never your baby.

DAVIS With Jerry’s money and a hefty grant . . . .

KAREN I was desperate. 101

DAVIS What about Nemesis?

KAREN I resigned last night.

MIRANDA Nemesis’s board hired Brock to do op research and smear the remaining theater companies, including us. Right, Karen?

DAVIS To eliminate us from consideration.

KAREN Jerry and I figured Nemesis couldn’t win up against our children’s theater proposal and Nemesis’s hiring this dope could put Coastline under a shadow of chaos.

BROCK I’m a consultant!

KAREN I admit I was onboard with Beverly’s hiring him at first. But after hearing what he was doing to the theater community, I couldn’t be any part of it. After you left the restaurant, Davis, I realized, this isn’t me. At all. I couldn’t be a part of this. I love children. I hear you do, too. I want this to be for the kids around here. We have to get them off those damn phones!

BROCK No one gives a damn about children’s theater. It’s a summer program, not theater. You’re making a big mistake, Karen.

KAREN I’m going to have a lot of fun making it then.

MIRANDA And Jerry’s their inside man on our board. (to JERRY) Cazzo! Sono così felice di aver finito con!

THESPIS (with no emphasis) Rough translation: You prick. I’m so glad I’m done with you.

EVERYONE looks at JERRY. 102

MIRANDA You owe Hillary an apology, you little weasel.

BROCK You owe me and Beverly an apology, too.

JERRY sees where this is going and begins to back away.

MIRANDA You know what’s comin’, don’tcha? Hillary cast you in your very first play here. Juror number three in Twelve Angry Men. You’re the actor makin’ all this shit up about sexual harassment.

HILLARY What?! You?!

JERRY (pointing at BROCK) It was your idea!

HILLARY You sick liar!

HILLARY charges JERRY, but DAVIS intercepts her.

DAVIS No, no, no, no! / Hillary, Hillary!

HILLARY I’m gonna rip your head off and, and, and–

HILLARY looks to RON for help.

RON (Beat; trying to help.) Go bowling!

HILLARY (to JERRY) Go bowling! (realizing how stupid it sounds) Bowling? Jeez, Ron. Never mind. Just get out of here, Jerry, get out of my sight!

THESPIS shadowboxes around 103

JERRY, as RON pushes JERRY away towards the edge of the stage.

MIRANDA And Brock tried selling the story to the Journal.

JERRY (pointing at BROCK) That’s right! I told you it was his idea! He made me do it!

KAREN What’re you, six? Didn’t your mom every teach you–you know, about the friend, you know, if the friend jumped off a cliff?

HILLARY Jerry! Get the hell out of here!

DAVIS Please?

HILLARY gives DAVIS a look of incredulity.

Just bein’ polite. That’s how we are down south.

HILLARY (to BROCK) Would you kindly bug off, too?

BROCK (raises cell phone) This trash, these lies? I’ll find out who’s behind it. And when I do–

KAREN I’m behind it! Everything she wrote is true. My other sister-in-law Alexandra writes for the Journal. She wrote it. And I helped her.

Feeling convicted, she turns to HILLARY.

I was angry. Beverly’s no different than the rest of us really. We all have . . . stuff. I should not have sicced Alexandra on her with the most embarrassing mistakes of her life. (to BROCK) I’m as bad as you! (Beat.) But contrite. When I resigned, I told Beverly. And I apologized. That’s all I can do at this point. The damage is done. I feel horrible. 104

BROCK You have too many goddamn sisters-in-law.

RON has grabbed his drill, raises it, pulls trigger to make it whirr and approaches him.

And you think I’m finished with you? Well, I’m not. You watch, you learn; you’ll rue the day / that–

DAVIS (calm and polite) Ron, please screw his head to the stage.

THESPIS fist-pumps his approval. RON NONA, MIRANDA and HILLARY close in around BROCK.

BROCK (exiting down aisle) I’m gonna send this theater to the glue factory! It’s dead!

KAREN Oh my Lord, still with the race horse analogies?!

BROCK exits. EVERYONE looks at JERRY.

DAVIS You’re smart enough to know you gotta resignation letter to write.

JERRY hesitates, then exits.

KAREN I’m really . . . really sorry. My judgment was . . . very, very . . . very bad. I just wanted to stick it to the Paradise Players. I wasn’t incompetent. I wanted the chance to prove them wrong for firing me.

DAVIS Not the best reason to start a children’s theater program, is it?

KAREN No. (Beat.) I’m withdrawing my proposal for the grant money. I’ll find the money somewhere else. The right way. No more best-laid plans.

Pause. 105

DAVIS (to KAREN) Children’s theater?

NONA What do we do now?

HILLARY I’ve been thinking.

BLACK OUT. Then a SPOTLIGHT comes up on THESPIS downstage. CAST strikes everything from the stage as:

THESPIS Best-laid plans. Let me tell you a story. There was an old gentleman who loved to play golf. His eyesight was bad, though, so he counted on his golf partners to tell him where his ball went. One day, his partners didn’t show up. It was a grand day for golf and he waited in the clubhouse. He grew very upset that he was not able to play. But another elderly man saw him and asked, “What’s wrong?” He told him he looked forward each week to playing golf, but his buddies didn’t show and he needed someone to watch his ball and tell him where it went. The other man, who was even older, said, “I’ll ride around with you today. I have 20/20 vision. I can see like a hawk. You hit the ball and I’ll watch it fly down the fairway.” (Beat.) So they arrived at the first tee. The gentleman hit his ball right down the middle of the fairway, turned to his spotter and asked, “Did you see where it went?” The spotter replied, “I saw it all the way until it stopped!” “Well, where did it go?” asked the gentleman. The older man paused for a moment and said . . . “I forgot.”

Another SPOTLIGHT comes up on DAVIS, standing alone on the other side of the stage.

Just because life doesn’t cooperate, doesn’t mean we put our heads in the sand. Living life means taking risks.

DAVIS nods. A smile breaks across his face, as some revelation strikes him.

I swear he can hear me.

SPOTLIGHTS out on DAVIS and THESPIS. DAVIS exits.

LIGHTS UP on NONA sitting on a park bench, a large picnic basket beside her; it is daytime. THESPIS crosses and stands behind her. NONA makes a call on her cell. 106

THESPIS (cont.) She’s been sitting here in the park. Waiting for the truth to arrive.

THESPIS exits.

NONA (after listening to voice mail) Hi, Kenny, Nona. Just . . . wondering where you are. We have a picnic date. At the park today? Made sandwiches. Ham with honey mustard. Your favorite. . . . Okay, well . . . hope you’re okay. . . . Call back. ‘Bye.

Pause. HILLARY has entered and stands behind her. She watches NONA as NONA looks at basket and takes out sandwich. NONA stares at it, wanting to eat it, but puts it back into basket.

HILLARY Hey, Nona!

NONA (flustered) Hillary! Hi, / what’re you doing here?

HILLARY It’s gorgeous out!

NONA Yeah, / it’s–

HILLARY It’s great getting out of the theater and into the sunshine!

NONA Yeah, it’s nice and sunny. It’s nice. Yeah.

HILLARY Less than two blocks from the theater, and I never take advantage of it anymore. I used to come here a lot. Sit here and work on my script, read a book. Sometimes just for some quiet time. May I join you?

NONA It’s a public park.

HILLARY moves the picnic basket and sits. 107

HILLARY So. We open tonight! I’m excited. Are you excited?

NONA I always get excited. It’s going to be great.

HILLARY You did your usual fantastic job finding everything I needed.

NONA Thank you. I’m happy to help. I love being there. It’s–it’s / –

HILLARY It’s a lot of work. But it’s the kind of work that’s, / that’s–

NONA Rewarding, it’s rewarding work. Seeing a play start on an empty stage with, like, a couple of chairs and watching the space grow into, like, this giant . . . /

HILLARY Thing!

NONA (laughing) Yeah! Thing! And then the thing turns into–what? What do we call it?

HILLARY Life!

NONA Art!

HILLARY Both.

They breathe the air and sit quietly for a moment. Pause.

NONA You saw me, didn’t you?

HILLARY Here in the park, yeah–that’s why I / came over. 108

NONA No. At the theater. I borrowed the big picnic basket from the prop room.

HILLARY This one? Oh, yeah, we used it in–what was the show?

NONA Hillary. (Beat.) I packed the lunch at the theater in the picnic basket and walked here to the park.

HILLARY Yeah, that’s–what a great idea.

NONA looks at her, almost begging her for the truth.

Okay. I . . . was parking. When you left the theater.

NONA When you didn’t ask about the picnic basket, I knew you knew. (Beat.) He’s not gonna show.

HILLARY Maybe he’s just late. Maybe he had car trouble.

NONA Maybe. I don’t know.

HILLARY The trick–and I don’t have this figured out myself–but the trick is to avoid optimism bias. Or was it bias optimism? (Beat.) No. Had it right the first time: optimism bias.

NONA (amused) Optimism bias. I always like how you name your feelings.

HILLARY It means when we underestimate the possibility of experiencing, you know, adverse events. I always mix a little pessimism with my optimism, just for that reason.

NONA Gets rid of that horrible taste of bias in your mouth. Yeah. I can see there might be a need for that.

Pause. HILLARY realizes she miscalculated NONA. HILLARY smiles. NONA smiles back. 109

NONA (cont.) Sandwich?

HILLARY Sure.

NONA gets them each a sandwich.

NONA Turkey or ham?

HILLARY Um . . . ham.

NONA To go with our sunshine!

Pause, while they eat.

I like your idea of Karen joining our board.

HILLARY I think we can trust her now. She’ll make a real difference here. To his credit, Davis saw how a children’s theater program would diversify Coastline’s bill of fare.

NONA He listens to you. I think you guys work perfectly together. (Beat.) Are you really leaving?

HILLARY Before Davis got here, I’d applied for a position with a theater company in San Jose. They called. I’m going up to check it out. Take some time. To think about things.

NONA You’re coming back, though?

HILLARY We’ll see.

NONA’s cell phone rings.

NONA Hello. . . . Where are you? . . . Are you all right? . . . Sure . . . . Okay . . . . I’ll wait for you, sure . . . . ‘Bye. 110

NONA (cont.) (to HILLARY) That was Kenny!

HILLARY What happened?

NONA (thrilled) He fell off his bike at the beach! Broke his cell phone and bashed his head up! Isn’t that great?!

HILLARY Yeah, / I guess.

NONA He’ll be here in fifteen minutes!

HILLARY He’s coming here?

NONA For the picnic. He said he’s okay! (Beat.) Oh. Can I get the rest of that sandwich back?

HILLARY gives back the sandwich. NONA begins packing the sandwich into the basket. NONA turns to HILLARY.

HILLARY I’m happy for you, Nona.

They hug.

NONA I’m happy for me, too. (Beat; holding up cookies.) Parentheses–celebrate with a cookie!

BLACK OUT. Park bench is struck. LIGHTS UP on the Coastline’s bare stage. THESPIS emerges from the wings.

THESPIS When Shakespeare arrived at his first rodeo, he was said to have cried, “Hark! What manner of men are these who wear their legs in parentheses!” (laughing, pointing to someone in audience not laughing) Come on, that was funny! 111

THESPIS (cont.) There’s one more scene to play out. Six weeks have passed. The Gin Game opened to rave reviews. Last night, it closed. As you can see, the set was struck, the stage is bare. Ready for . . . well, the next thing. To imitate life. And for life to follow. In this breathing, hallowed space. Where the air is thick with passion, with the thoughts of all the lives who performed here, who lived this art, this thing called drama. The story of human life!

THESPIS exits. LIGHTS DIM. DAVIS enters from aisle, carrying camera, looks around the space, and then sits on edge of stage.

RON enters from backstage.

RON Hey.

DAVIS Hey.

RON You one of those guys gets bummed when a show closes?

DAVIS No. Just tired.

Pause.

RON Seem a little down, last few weeks.

DAVIS smiles, shrugs.

No word from her?

DAVIS (realizing he’s figured him out) I called her . . . probably too many times. I leave messages that . . . well, I might’ve confused her. I told her I hope she takes the job if they offer it to her. And then. . . how everyone’ll miss her. And then how I’m gonna miss her. All on one voice mail. She left a message that she got my message.

RON Karen, Miranda and I are going out for steak and Jack Daniels. Come with us. 112

DAVIS Thanks. I’ll pass. Got work at the studio to finish.

RON Okay. (Beat.) Hey, I’m sorry. If I’d known she was leaving, I wouldn’t have told you how great she is. (Beat.) Y’all hang in there.

RON exits up aisle. Long pause.

HILLARY (O.S.) Davis sits on the edge of the stage with his trusty camera, thinking. (they do what she describes) Davis smiles. Hillary enters from aisle, mounts the stage. Davis leans back, points camera up at her face. (posing with smile) Surprise!

DAVIS takes her picture.

Why the camera?

DAVIS Took some pictures.

HILLARY Of what?

DAVIS Of your set. Before the strike. It’s . . . one of my . . . . I was gonna lie and say “traditions.” (Beat.) But I’ve never taken pictures of a set before. Actually . . . this picture was supposed to help me . . . remember you better. In case ya didn’t come back. Kinda weird, huh?

HILLARY looks uncomfortable.

HILLARY Congratulations. I heard you got the check today from the Foundation.

DAVIS It was your idea. Bringin’ Karen to Coastline for a children’s theater program. I think that’s what did it. I’ll have to live with the inside trading. I told the Foundation we knew about their new mission for children’s theater and offered to withdraw from consideration. But Karen’s sister-in-law apparently told a whole bunch of people, so it wasn’t a big secret. We’re not the only ones offerin’ kids’ shows and educational programs. 113

HILLARY Thanks. But I think they approved of your intention to develop new works, too. Congratulations.

DAVIS New plays and children’s theater. Risky business.

HILLARY But you like taking risks.

Pause.

DAVIS So . . . should we ignore the big elephant in the room?

HILLARY Big elephant?

DAVIS San Jose?

HILLARY Oh. Yeah. (Beat.) Wasn’t planning on talking about that now. Sorry I was so incommunicado. But . . . it was good getting away after the show went up. Gave me time to think.

DAVIS Thinkin’s good.

Pause.

HILLARY They offered me the position of Artistic Director. Effective immediately.

DAVIS That’s . . . wow. Fantastic. I’m happy.

HILLARY What are you happy about?

DAVIS That you’re finally gettin’ the position you deserve.

HILLARY (Beat.) So what’s wrong? 114

DAVIS I’m also . . . unhappy. That you’re really leavin’ us. And we won’t have the chance to–and I won’t have the chance to . . . .

HILLARY Chance to what?

DAVIS hesitates.

Go ahead. “Chance to . . . ?”

DAVIS . . . Find someone to miss again?

HILLARY wasn’t expecting that response.

It never . . . never crossed my mind before I met you. I honestly doubted I’d find anyone ever again. Who could make me feel–who makes life, you know . . . ?

HILLARY Davis. Just say it.

DAVIS (Beat.) Who makes my life real again. (Beat.) But I don’t want you turnin’ your back on a real future doin’ what you love, either. (Beat.) You’re bonafide. Big part of what I like ‘bout you.

HILLARY I have to work at it. I don’t want to be a . . .? An inconsistency? In some arrangement. And I’ve found myself in too many relationships . . . with guys looking for me to take the place of something missing in a woman from their past–their mother, their girlfriends, their wives. I have no interest in becoming, becoming, becoming–a replacement part.

DAVIS I understand what you’re sayin’. Makes sense that ya want to move on/, to keep things–

HILLARY I turned them down.

DAVIS (after a pause) Turned them down? Why? Why would you turn down / –

HILLARY I’m going to make you feel a little uncomfortable for a second, okay? 115

Pause.

HILLARY (cont.) I never . . . I never thought I’d arrange my life–the priorities in my life–like this. But . . . I figured out . . . that I spend . . . too much time . . . fending off feelings.

DAVIS You mean . . . you don’t know how you feel about going to San Jose?

HILLARY No. That’s not what I mean.

DAVIS Then what?

HILLARY Your message. When you said, “Miss Hillary, I’m gonna miss you.” What got me was–. You added the word “terribly.” Miss me terribly. Sounded serious, like southern exaggeration, the kind that strong feelings create. And I dug in. Deep. Explored my future. My feelings. About you. (Beat.) You like people, Davis. Genuinely. When you first meet someone, you aren’t indifferent, waiting to see if you’ll like them. You just do. I’ve never known anyone who could do that. It’s affected me. In a way I can’t describe. I’ve never experienced it before. And . . . well . . . this is going to sound so out of character for me, but I assure you, I’m me, I’m being–this is from . . . me. Ready? All right. I decided that my feelings–having love in my life, giving love–are more important than loving a job. And I love my role here. And I want terribly to keep these feelings. And I can’t if I’m not here. With you. Where you need me.

HILLARY moves close to him, looking him square in the eyes.

Ready?

DAVIS For what?

HILLARY For this. Davis . . . I love you. There. I said it.

DAVIS You–/ ?

HILLARY Are you willing . . . to take a risk on me? On us? I mean, all in. No looking back. No silly songs. A real story with real words. 116

DAVIS takes a deep breath.

DAVIS To be with you? Yeah. Everything. I’ll risk it all.

HILLARY slowly puts her hands on his face. Slowly, tentatively, they move closer. They stare into each other’s eyes for a moment, and then they kiss, longingly. Then, they exit.

THESPIS enters, looking after them.

THESPIS Writers are like gods. I think . . . I think the author of this play put me here to be your pathfinder. Or maybe just to kill time while the cast changed the set, who knows. I prefer “pathfinder.” Or scout! I go out. I come back. I tell you what I saw. Doesn’t matter much what I think. We all have our guide. Listen to it.

Kalinychta [kah-leen-eek-tah]. Good night.

(THESPIS EXITS UP AISLE AS LIGHTS FADE OUT.)

(END PLAY.)