A note on the music: May be helpful to play said Frank Sinatra songs while reading / indicates an interruption

Characters: EZRA – 17. JEANNE– 21. MURPHY – 35.

Setting: Pharmacy storefront. Upstage door to a mall.

[Over the mall speakers play a series of Frank Sinatra songs quietly overhead. “It was a very good year” It repeats with or without lyrics until next specified change. All is calm. Bright lights. Regular business. Explosion. Panic. Running. Gun shots. Shelves pushed over. Ransacking. Small fires ignite. All lights out but one LED bulb. EZRA hobbles in, holding his bloodied leg. Kicking things with it. Painful. Looking for something, he looks at the aisle signs. Sees what he needs. He digs. Reveals a bottle of hand sanitizer. Loud sounds from outside and footsteps. Bulky men run by. EZRA is still. He looks back at the aisle signs. Sees what he needs. He digs. Reveals a sewing kit. He sits and props himself against one of the few standing shelves, rips the packaging for the sewing needles, opens the sanitizer, proceeds to tend to his wound.]

EZRA: Yesterday began in a hue of grey, as all grey days do. Bits of rain and snow, but mostly just grey. Went about the daily routine. I got up. Ate my Chocolate Special K. Had coffee. Spat it out cuz I hate everything about coffee. I am trying to build up my tolerance. Brushed. Said bye to the dog. Went to school. Normal day. Slept in Ms. Grover’s. Flirted in Madame Rubin’s. Paid attention in Mr. Jatrun’s, cuz I actually learn things there. Went to the corner store on my way home for my daily Haribo Cherries. Said hi to the dog. Had dinner with mom. Pretended to do homework. Yanked it for a bit. Read the first two pages of the Alchemist again. Then knocked. A grey day.

Dum Dam Damn.

[squeezes hand sanitizer into the wound]

DIP MY DICK IN DRY ICE.

Sorry.

Today started again in a hue of grey; mostly just grey. Went about the daily routine. But something stuck out in Mr. Jatrun’s as different today. He talked about political art bastardizing truth. He asked “what we do when the world goes to shit? We keep making the things we decided was ‘it’” It was something like that. I remember it rhymed.

[Needle goes into the flesh]

He went on to talk about Sisyphus and pushing your boulder. That was when I checked out, but I remember that. It made me feel a little funky.

Came here for some Panda Express, thinking it might make me feel better.

A lot happened very fast. Now, it’s all red.

At least it’s colorful.

[Finishes last stitch]

I’ll have this for a few years, huh?

[“Come Fly With Me” plays over the speaker. More shots. A girl sprints in, and lies motionless. EZRA slides his legs around to hide but peek at her. Complete stillness.]

If my “boulder” is a dead body, I am not pushing it.

[He slips. She hears. Scrambles. Grabs a roll of wrapping paper. Hits him with it. They fight. It is brutal.]

EZRA: Stop, stop…

[He vomits]

JEANNE: Shhhhh.

[He continues to vomit]

JEANNE: Shhhhhhhhhhh…it’s ok…be quiet now.

[Voices outside. He vomits quietly]

EZRA: Panda…Sorry. JEANNE: Shhhhh.

[They duck. Bulky men look in. Keep going. Silence.]

EZRA: I am gonna grab one of those water bottles from the case. JEANNE: Sit. EZRA: Ok.

[She gets him one. They sit. He sips]

EZRA: Im Ezra. JEANNE: Good to meet you. I think if we wait/ EZRA: What’s yours? JEANNE: What? EZRA: Your name? JEANNE: Jeanne. This wont last too long, they’ll see that people have left, but in the mean time/ EZRA: That is a pretty name. JEANNE: How old are you? EZRA: How old do you want me to be? JEANNE: We should block the door with some of this stuff to wait it out. EZRA: Yeah, that’s cool. JEANNE: Then do it.

[They push. Build a barricade. Outside lights disappear. “Put Your Dreams Away” begins.]

EZRA: Your hair smells nice. JEANNE: Honestly, this is not the time right now. No one knows what is happening, but it’s not normal. Right now it is about pushing through to a time when we can wrap our heads around what is going on. All I want is to get back to my family, the last thing I need is some twit hitting on me. EZRA: Ok.

[They sit in silence. EZRA sees something across the store. He struggles to get up. Hobbles over. Digs. Reveals a box of Chocolate Special K. Scans store. Sees what he is looking for. Hobbles. Reveals milk. Picks a spot. Sits. Opens cereal. Pours milk in bag.]

JEANNE: You’re worse than most college students. At least they use bowls. EZRA: It is ok. It is normal. This is how I push for when I can ‘wrap my head around what’s going on.’ JEANNE: Cute.

[They sit in silence. JEANNE cries quietly. EZRA lost.]

EZRA: Want some? JEANNE: No. EZRA: Ok.

[They sit in silence]

JEANNE: Is your family here? EZRA: It’s just the two of us. JEANNE: Not here. The mall. EZRA: No. JEANNE: Ok. EZRA: Yours. JEANNE: No. EZRA: Do you live/ JEANNE: No. EZRA: Me neither. JEANNE: Really? EZRA: No. JEANNE: I’m from Chicago. EZRA: Long way from home. JEANNE: Yeah EZRA: School? JEANNE: Yeah. EZRA: How you getting home? JEANNE: I dunno. EZRA: Lots of unknowns right now. JEANNE: The world will be different when we leave this shop. EZRA: There’s this book called The Alchemist, where the main character, Santiago, arrives at this abandoned church with all his sheep. The roof’s fallen in and a tree’s grown up in the middle. He gets his sheep in and decides to sleep there. He falls asleep on his book and when he wakes up, the sheep wake up at the same time. He goes on about how him and his sheep are on the same schedule, then he goes to see this girl that he met. The merchant’s daughter. JEANNE: I have read it. That’s right at the beginning right? EZRA: Yeah. JEANNE: So …? EZRA: My point is maybe we’ll fall asleep on some of these books, talk to our sheep, and wake up from a dream. Go see the gal. JEANNE: Not this time. This is real.

[They sit in silence. “Fly Me to the Moon” plays overhead]

EZRA: Good song.

[EZRA struggles to get up. Does. Sings a verse with Sinatra. JEANNE gets up. Sings a verse with Sinatra. They dance. Explosion rattles the building. Music cuts out. They sing a verse without Sinatra.]

JEANNE and EZRA: Let me see what spring is like On Jupiter and Mars In other words, hold my hand In other words, darling, kiss me Fill my life with song Let me sing for ever more All I worship and adore You are all I long for In other words, please be true In other words, in other words In other words, in other words In other words I love you

[They are close. Smile. Normal]

JEANNE: Is your leg ok? EZRA: Yeah. JEANNE: How’d it happen? EZRA: Mauled by a Bengal Tiger. JEANNE: Shut up. EZRA: Really.

[The LED bulb goes out. Quickly, red safety light replaces the previously white-yellow glow. MURPHY, with a stack of People magazines and Chex Mix, rises from behind the counter.]

MURPHY: You should tell her about the Sisyphus thing. She might think it’s charming. Might make up for the puke on your shirt. Speaking of which, we do have shirts in aisle 8; only XXL left. I hope that’s alright. EZRA: Where did you come from?! MURPHY: I was under the counter. JEANNE: How long have you been here? MURPHY: Been here the whole time. EZRA: Doing what? MURPHY: Just sittin’. Don’t mind me. I think it is safe to go outside.

[EZRA and JEANNE look at each other and move towards the barricade. MURPHY points a remote control at the speaker, which turns back on playing “One For My Baby (And One More For the Road)”. She disappears behind the counter. EZRA and JEANNE move a piece of shelving, which reveals a shining beam of light through the space. The only light source. Very bright. They wait. Pull back all barricade pieces. Doors open open to a purely white world. EZRA and JEANNE look at each other once more. Walk out.]

End of Play

The songs:

1. When I was seventeen It was a very good year It was a very good year for small town girls And soft summer nights We'd hide from the lights On the village green When I was seventeen

When I was twenty-one It was a very good year It was a very good year for city girls Who lived up the stair With all that perfumed hair And it came undone When I was twenty-one

When I was thirty-five It was a very good year It was a very good year for blue-blooded girls Of independent means We'd ride in limousines Their chauffeurs would drive When I was thirty-five

2. Come fly with me, let's fly, let's fly away If you can use some exotic booze There's a bar in far Bombay Come fly with me, let's fly, let's fly away Come fly with me, let's float down to Peru In llama-land there's a one-man band And he'll toot his flute for you Come fly with me, let's take off in the blue Once I get you up there Where the air is rarefied We'll just glide Starry-eyed Once I get you up there I'll be holding you so near You may hear Angels cheer, 'cause we're together Weather-wise, it's such a lovely day Just say the words and we'll beat the birds Down to Acapulco Bay It is perfect for a flying honeymoon, they say Come fly with me, let's fly, let's fly away Once I get you up there Where the air is rarefied We'll just glide Starry-eyed Once I get you up there I'll be holding you so near You may hear Angels cheer, 'cause we're together Weather-wise, it's such a lovely day You just say the words and we'll beat the birds Down to Acapulco Bay It's perfect for a flying honeymoon, they say Come fly with me, let's fly let's fly Pack up let's fly away 3. Put your dreams away for another day ​ And I will take their place in your heart Wishing on a star never got you far And so it's time to make a new start

When your dreams at night Fade before you Then I'll have the right To adore you

Let your kiss confess this is happiness, darling And put all your dreams away

4. Fly me to the moon Let me play among the stars Let me see what spring is like On Jupiter and Mars In other words, hold my hand In other words, darling, kiss me Fill my life with song And let me sing for ever more You are all I long for All I worship and adore In other words, please be true In other words, I love you Fly me to the moon Let me play among the stars Let me see what spring is like On Jupiter and Mars In other words, hold my hand In other words, darling, kiss me Fill my life with song Let me sing for ever more All I worship and adore You are all I long for In other words, please be true In other words, in other words In other words, in other words In other words I love you

5: It's quarter to three ​ There's no one in the place 'cept you and me So set 'em' up joe I got a little story I think you oughtta know We're drinking my friend To the end of a brief episode So make it one for my baby And one more for the road I know the routine Put another nickel in that there machine I'm feeling so bad Won't you make the music easy and sad I could tell you a lot But you gotta to be true to your code So make it one for my baby And one more for the road You'd never know it But buddy I'm a kind of poet And I've got a lot of things I want to say And if I'm gloomy, please listen to me 'Til it's all, all talked away Well, that's how it goes And Joe I know you're gettin' anxious to close So thanks for the cheer I hope you didn't mind My bending your ear But this torch that I found It's gotta be drowned Or it soon might explode So make it one for my baby And one more for the road