Randall Jong
CW. 602
Roy Conboy
(Angie packing another box. Boy comes back from the kitchen with a rag)
BOY
Stove is finished.
(Angie is distracted by a picture)
BOY
Angie the stove is finished.
ANGIE
Hmm. Let me see.
(Angie drops the photo and observes the stove. She turns to the stove to the side, and reveals dirt)
ANGIE
Did you not think of wiping the side?
BOY
I don’t think your landlord is going to rip apart the stove to examine mildew that’s been growing there before you moved in. And then charge you for it.
ANGIE
How many years have you lived here?
BOY
…None.
ANGIE
How many man-dates did you have with Mr. Landlord, that you know what he or he isn’t capable of charging? Tell me. Tell me your secrets with the relationship with this city. Your little treasure chest of a city. Not my city. Not the city that I’ve been brooding in for five years, not the city where I poured more bile and blood into my work than you ever did back in San Francisco, not the city that everyday when I wake up I hear the foot steps of millions of people with purposeful goals in life, which tends to remind me that I am the foot steps of lost causes. You are right…this is not my city…this is your city…this is your apartment…this is your landlord…and that…that is your stove. So you can do whatever you want with it.
BOY
Okay…I’ll clean the side.
ANGIE
You come three thousand miles away to do what? To make this move three thousand times more difficult. You have to scrub harder than that.
(pause)
Have you seen my photo?
BOY
What photo?
ANGIE
I had a photo in my hand. It’s not in my hand anymore.
BOY
I wasn’t aware of a pho…
ANGIE
Where is it?
BOY
I…
ANGIE
Where is it?
BOY
I don’t know where it is!
ANGIE
You don’t understand. It was in my hand. I was…I was pinching it. I was squeezing it. Where is it? You know where it is!
BOY
I don’t.
ANGIE
You do…you’re lying! You’re not helping me…help me! Help me find my photo.
BOY
Check the floor.
ANGIE
I’ve lost it...I’ve lost it…you have to understand…I can not lose the details. Details make me who I am…without them I’m a goddamn vague.
BOY
Angie you’re not making any sense.
ANGIE
Like you know my sensibility. I need that photo…like I need that stove completely clean. Just focus on cleaning…I’ll look for the photo.
(Boy returns to scrubbing. Angie is frantically looking around. Boy finds the photo in the corner of the kitchen. He pockets the photo and watches Angie become desperate)
ANGIE
If I lost the photo, who knows what I’ve lost before. It was in my hand, God, it was in my hand.
Notes from Roy:
ReplyDeleteThis scene continues many of the dramatic ambiguities of the first scene. In a dramatically effective way we learn that they haven't been living together, and that he's just come across the country to help her move, but still, the nature of what's going on remains elusive, and that gives a good sense of drama to the piece - along with the obvious strains and emotions that Angie is enduring.
Why does she have to move? What is happening to her? Why did he come so far to help? What are his concerns for her? All these questions are running through the scene, and help to propel it forward.