BETTER PLACES TO GO

A Stage Play by David-Matthew Barnes

Cast of Characters

RICARDO: A Mexican-American busboy who struggles with his identity; the object of his best friend’s desire.

ROSIE: An embittered young waitress who secretly fuels dreams of starting a new life.

CANDACE: A neurotic and somewhat self-centered bride-to-be.

DEREK: Harboring feelings of love for his best friend, he is suicidal and manic.

JUDY: Lovelorn and hopelessly romantic; she awaits the return of her Prince Charming.

LUCILLE: Bored with her mundane life, she dreams of being abducted by aliens.

NATHAN: Aggressive and controlling, he takes advantage of everyone and everything.

BRITNEY: A woman trapped in a tumultuous relationship; she lacks the courage to leave.

MAXINE: A maid of honor whose keeping a secret from her best friend — the bride.

LINDA: A pregnant teenaged girl who’s just left a man more than twice her age.

Place

A rundown truck stop diner just west of Grand Island, Nebraska off of Interstate 80.

Time

A Friday night. Early autumn. Present year.

The Story

A horrendous storm looms overs a rundown truck stop diner in Grand Island, Nebraska, bringing together ten people who start to reveal damaging secrets as the night goes on.

Acknowledgements

Many, many people helped Better Places to Go become the stage play and script it is. To them, I offer my deepest gratitude.

First and foremost, thank you to the award-winning original cast and production team of the world premiere.

To Tony White, for producing not one but two New York productions of the script.

And to the people of Grand Island, Nebraska, who inspired every word.

Better Places to Go received a world premiere{The world premiere was recognized by the Sacramento Area Regional Theatre Alliance. The production received two Elly Awards for Best Original Script and Best Original Production.} at The California Stage Company in Sacramento. The play opened on March 21, 2003. The show was produced by Nick A. Moreno for DNPAC Productions. The Costume Designer was Jeanne Menendez. The Lighting Designer was Ron Madonia. The original cast was as follows:

RICARDO

E. Ambriz DeColosio

ROSIE

Tara Henry

CANDACE

Vanessa Menendez

DEREK

Logan Hesse

JUDY

Therese Llanes

LUCILLE

Susan Madden

NATHAN

Richard Falcon

BRITNEY

Ioana Teora

MAXINE

Elizabeth David

LINDA

Jamie Lynn Kale

Better Places to Go received a New York premiere at The Creative Place Theatre. The play opened on January 21, 2004. The show was directed by Tony White and produced by Love Creek Productions. Costumes were designed by Tony White. Lights were designed by Mark Kinch. The Stage Manager was Alison Burke. The first New York cast was as follows:

Robin Albury, Kelly Barrett, Margaret Champagne, Ryan De Mesa, Barbara Miluski, Deva Nicole, Rebecca Nyahay, Ryan Victor Pierce*, Russell Russo and Amy Beth Sherman* (*Member of AEA)

Excerpts from this script have been featured in Young Women's Monologues from Contemporary Plays, 60 Seconds to Shine, and the Audition Arsenal monologue series.

ACT ONE: SCENE ONE

(As the lights come up, we are inside of Della’s Diner, a rundown truck stop diner located just west of Grand Island, Nebraska off of Interstate 80.

The place seems strangely vacated, almost ghostly.

The décor is both dated and faded. There are a few tables, chairs, a main counter, a door to the kitchen, a door to a restroom, and a main entrance from a parking lot.

Two of the tables are covered with plates, silverware and coffee cups, as customers have just left.

A horrible storm looms over the area, casting a murky glow over everything. It is only six o’clock, but it feels much later.

A transistor radio sits on the main counter, playing something by a dead singer softly in the background. The music fades out.)

RADIO ANNOUNCER: It’s going to be a wicked night, Grand Island. Weather reports say we’re expecting high winds, electrical storms, and more rain than we’ll know what to do with. My advice: get somewhere safe, cuddle up with the one you love, and hold on tight.

(An older song comes on, a duet.

ROSIE, a waitress in her early twenties, enters from the kitchen. Her presence is commanding. She grabs a bottle of nail polish and a fashion magazine from the main counter. She sits in a booth, paints her fingernails, reads her magazine. She starts to sing along with the song on the radio.

RICARDO, a young and striking Mexican-American man in his early twenties, enters from the kitchen. He is carrying a bus tray. He stops to turn off the radio. He starts to clear the tables.)

RICARDO. You got any plans tonight, Rosie?

ROSIE. I heard things about you. Last night, down at Clyde’s.

RICARDO. I asked you a question.

ROSIE. I asked you first.

RICARDO. No, you didn’t. You didn’t ask me anything.

ROSIE. Are the rumors true?

RICARDO. When are you leaving?

ROSIE. When the time is right.

RICARDO. (After a moment:) The rumors aren’t true.

ROSIE. (She stands.) Bullshit. That’s what I say. Bull — shit. You’re lying, Ricardo. Like I even care. If you and Derek are—

RICARDO. You’ll never leave this place. You’re gonna die here.

ROSIE. (She moves to the table that he is clearing. Purposely, she knocks over the salt and pepper shakers.) I hate you. If everybody knew what a jerk you were—

RICARDO. If everybody knew what a compulsive liar you were—

ROSIE. Faggot.

RICARDO. Aw, come on, Rosie. You can do better than that.

ROSIE. My boyfriend didn’t want me to take this job because you’re a dumb Mexican and all Mexican’s steal money and rape women.

RICARDO. You’re not my type.

ROSIE. (With a gesture to her breasts:) Obviously.

RICARDO. You don’t even have a boyfriend.

ROSIE. No?

RICARDO. No, you don’t.

ROSIE. But you do.

RICARDO. Nothing’s worse than watching you lie to people.

ROSIE. I don’t lie.

RICARDO. You lie to every person who walks in the door. Just to sucker ‘em outta their money.

ROSIE. People like me, asshole. They give me tips.

(Rosie collects her tips from a table; a handful of loose change.)

RICARDO. People feel sorry for you because you tell ‘em that your mother is dying of cancer or that your father had a heart attack or that you have three starving babies at home and they all got scurvy.

ROSIE. It’s part of the job. I tell people what they wanna hear. I pretend to be someone I’m not just to make them happy.

RICARDO. Yeah, so do I.

ROSIE. It makes people feel better about themselves if they think they’re helping someone who is less than them. Like they’re doing some good deed for the white trash of the world. Dumb fuckers don’t realize I’m smarter than them. I get ‘em their drinks. I bring ‘em plates of food. I tell the wives they look young. I flirt with the husbands. I touch their ugly babies: pat their bald heads, kiss their sticky faces. It’s their money that I really want. They always leave me a little extra, because I’m so sweet. (She pretends that she is waiting on a customer; very convincing:) What a beautiful family you have. It’s always nice to see people so happy together. Really, it warms my heart. (The façade is gone.) I know how to get what I want.

RICARDO. You never answered my question.

ROSIE. Yeah, I got big plans tonight.

RICARDO. You’re gonna go home alone like you always do.

ROSIE. You just don’t know, Ricardo. I’m so sick and tired of this place. I’d love to set it on fire and watch it burn to the ground. (Beat.) You got any matches on you, hot boy? It gets to a person after a while. It crawls all over me like a rash. Like poison fucking ivy. (Beat.) How in the hell did I get stuck in Nebraska?

RICARDO. You were born here.

ROSIE. But you weren’t. I’ll never figure out why the hell you stay.

RICARDO. Same reason you do. There’s no place like home.

ROSIE. Hey, there’s better places to go than this God forsaken shit hole. (She rips open a package of crackers.)

RICARDO. How would you know? You’ve never even been outside of Nebraska.

ROSIE. (Shoving crackers into her mouth:) So! I’ve been to Lincoln. And me and my grandmother went to Omaha last summer. She had to go see a specialist for her rheumatism.

RICARDO. You hate that old woman.

ROSIE. She’s lazy.

RICARDO. Be nice. She lets you live with her for free.

ROSIE. Someone has to take care of her.

RICARDO. Is she still obsessed with aliens?

ROSIE. She swears the mother ship is coming for her any day now. (Beat.) I just wish the fuckers would hurry up and get here and take her away.

RICARDO. There’s a storm coming tonight.

ROSIE. You bet your ass there is. Maybe you and your psycho lover boy will get blown away in a tornado. Or better yet, maybe the two of you can hitch a ride with my grandmother and fly off to Saturn where you all belong.

RICARDO. (Aside:) God willing.

(JUDY, a petite and timid woman in her early thirties, enters.)

ROSIE. (To Judy:) Don’t you have anything else better to do?

JUDY. (Nervous; tearful:) It’s been a week. I can’t take it anymore.

ROSIE. He isn’t coming back.

JUDY. Yes, he is. He promised.

ROSIE. Tell her Ricardo.

RICARDO. What do you want me to tell her?

ROSIE. That all he wanted was a piece of lonely ass and as soon as she gave it up, he hit the road and he ain’t coming back.

RICARDO. Judy, are you hungry?

JUDY. (Only to Ricardo:) I haven’t been able to eat much. I’m nervous all the time. My hands are shaking. My heart is rattled. I can’t even concentrate. Ricardo, do you think I’ve gone mad?

ROSIE. He’s a truck driver that you spent a night with in a sleazy motel. Get over it.

JUDY. It wasn’t like that, Rosie. You wouldn’t know because you hate the world and you’ve never been in love.

ROSIE. (Angered:) I have so been in love, for your information. (She glances quickly at Ricardo, then:) There are things about me that you don’t know. I got secrets and I’m taking ‘em with me to the grave. (She returns to the task of painting her nails.)

JUDY. Well, you just keep quiet about him. He’ll be back here and he’ll prove you wrong.

ROSIE. Suit yourself, loser. Sit here all night and wait for him. I have big plans.

RICARDO. (Intervening:) Let me get you something to drink, Judy.

JUDY. Just water. With a slice of lemon. My throat is dry. Must be from the wind.

RICARDO. It’s supposed to be a bad storm.

ROSIE. (She messes up on a fingernail:) Shit!

JUDY. (To Ricardo:) You believe me, don’t you, Ricardo? He’ll be back, won’t he?

RICARDO. I hope so.

JUDY. Rosie’s always talking nonsense.

(Rosie flips Judy off, without a second thought.)

RICARDO. She can’t stand to see anyone happy because she’s so miserable.

ROSIE. (She snaps her fingers.) Um, hi! I’m still here. I can hear all your bullshit. I’m not deaf. It’s like a funeral around here. Everyone’s all sad and cry babying like the end of the fucking world is coming. Jesus, people, lighten up and quit your bitching. It wears on a person after a while.

JUDY. (Gathers her courage, stands, and then:) You’re a hateful, mean person, Rosie, and I’ve never liked you.

ROSIE. (She stands and slinks over to Judy.) Is that supposed to hurt? Judy, you’re an idiot and you’ve always been an idiot. Just because some lowlife dirty trucker paid you some attention, you sit here every night like a ghost waiting for some fantasy to come true. Well, guess what? He got what he wanted and he’s probably a thousand miles away from here by now. Which is exactly where I should be.

RICARDO. (To Rosie:) You’re not going anywhere.

JUDY. Except to hell. You will, Rosie, because you don’t have any compassion and you never go to church.

ROSIE. I have to take care of my grandmother and she doesn’t like to go out much.

RICARDO. She’s a prisoner.

(Ricardo exits to the kitchen. Judy sits at a table, the closest one to the entrance.)

JUDY. What time is it?

ROSIE. Time for you to shut the fuck up and go home. (Beat.) I don’t know. It’s after six. What difference does it make?

JUDY. He was going to Tulsa. He asked me if I wanted to go and I have no idea why I didn’t say yes. I’ve never been to Tulsa before. I should have packed up a few clothes and some cheese sandwiches and went with him. I’m sure Tulsa is a nice place. Anywhere would be beautiful with him. I could have looked at the road map and guided us there while he drove the big rig and we could have stopped off in places — places like this and had chili burgers and banana milkshakes and taken souvenir pictures with one of those disposable cameras. And at night, we would have made love. It would have felt right. To leave and just go and be with him and watch him drive and sleep beside him and see someplace new, even if it was only Tulsa. (Beat.) I bet the sunsets are gorgeous there. Real rich and beautiful. Like one of those desert paintings with the cactus in them. You know the kind that looks like someplace you swear you’ve been before, but you can’t quite remember? Not like Grand Island. Not like this town. I will remember this place for the rest of my life. Every inch of it is burned into my mind like a flaming postcard. Oh, I would have loved it. Just to be out on the road with him. Going somewhere. Getting away from it all. Feeling the sun on my arms and the wicked wind on my face as I crossed the Nebraska state line. Every inch of road getting me further and further and further away. (Pauses.) My God, I would have held his hand all the way to Tulsa.

ROSIE. You’re a ridiculous woman going on and on about a man you met once and spent less than twenty-four hours with. He’s gone, Judy. He was just passing through. You were just a road side attraction to him. A free carnival ride.

RICARDO. (He returns with a glass of water for Judy.) Maybe we should close up, Rosie. The storm is supposed to be one of the worst of its kind in twelve years.

ROSIE. You go on then, Mr. Weather Man. I’ll stay here and run the place.

JUDY. I’ll stay with her.

(Rosie shoots Judy a look.)

RICARDO. I’m serious. I think we should go home.

ROSIE. There ain’t nothing to go home to, except a complaining old woman and her tired bones that creak whenever she opens her big mouth and talks a bunch of nonsense about aliens. I’d rather stay here and wait.

RICARDO. What are you waiting for?

ROSIE. For the second coming of Christ, asshole. I told you, I have plans tonight. God, don’t you ever listen to me? (She starts to paint her nails again.)

RICARDO. But if the weather gets bad, they could close the roads. We could get stuck here—

ROSIE. What difference does it make? We’re already stuck.

JUDY. I can’t leave. What if he comes back to get me and I’m not here?

RICARDO. You could leave him a note.

ROSIE: The fucker probably can’t even read. (Beat.) Was he a Mexican, Judy?

JUDY. (Thinks about it, then:) No. It’s too risky. I’ll stay.

RICARDO. Rosie, come help me tape up the windows out back.

ROSIE. What do I look like, a janitor? You tape ‘em. I’m doing my nails.

RICARDO. I’m not doing all this work by myself. (He exits.)

ROSIE. Fine. (She follows him.)

JUDY. (She stands up, goes to the radio and turns up the volume. She begins to sing along with the song and begins to dance slowly and softly, swaying with her imagined lover.) You’re a wonderful dancer. Very smooth and graceful. (She closes her eyes, lost in her fantasy.)

DEREK. (He enters somewhat quietly, carrying a backpack. He is young, slightly effeminate. His presence is enigmatic and he is unintentionally charming. Judy is unaware of his presence. He stands and watches her dance, almost transfixed by her movements. Suddenly, he goes to her, grabbing both of her arms and startling her. He tries to dance with her but for Judy, the moment is ruined. She shoves Derek away and goes and stands near a corner of the diner, her back turned to him.) What’s the matter, Judy? You looked like you needed a partner.

JUDY. I don’t need anything from you. Just leave me be.

DEREK. Still waiting for your truck driver man?

JUDY. My relations are of no concern to you.

DEREK. (He goes to each table, stealing packets of sugar. He shoves most of them into his pockets. Some, he rips open and swallows the sugar from. Derek is manic and suffers from a constant state of restlessness. His movements are quick and nervous and his body seems agitated from its constant use.) Suit yourself. I thought we were friends.

JUDY. No offense, but I don’t want to be friends with you anymore. People will say things about me if I associate with you. I hope you can understand that, Derek.

DEREK. I’ve never done you wrong. (He empties and swallows another sugar packet. Rosie enters, eating a doughnut. Immediately, she is angry. To Rosie:) Don’t start with me.

ROSIE. Give those back to me.

DEREK. They’re only sugar packets, Rosie. Geez.

ROSIE. I want ‘em back.

DEREK. I haven’t eaten all day.

JUDY. Have some sympathy, Rosie. His sister threw him out.

ROSIE. Because Britney’s embarrassed to be related to a freak. (She smacks Derek in the head. A chase begins.)

DEREK. Where’s Ricardo?

ROSIE. Give me the sugar packets and I’ll tell you.

DEREK. I don’t have to do what you say.

ROSIE. Oh, the hell you don’t.

DEREK. I won’t give ‘em to you. The only reason why I took ‘em was because I was hungry.

ROSIE. You lie. You do it every time you come in here and then I have to put more sugar packets out because you eat them all.

DEREK. I’m not the only liar here. Ricardo says you lie all the time. He says every time you open your big, fat, lazy mouth — you lie.

RICARDO. (He enters.) Derek?

DEREK. Make her stop! I didn’t do anything!

ROSIE. He’s eating up all the sugar packets in this place and I am not restocking them.

RICARDO. I’ll handle it.

ROSIE. You’re always sticking up for him. Protecting him like he’s some kind of retard.

RICARDO. I said I’ll handle it. Go in the kitchen and wash up the dishes. We need to get out of here soon.

ROSIE. I am sick and tired of going in to the kitchen. (She exits.)

JUDY. (She turns the radio back on and a beautiful song can be heard, faintly. She turns and looks out the front door.) Sweet Jesus, I think he’s here. Ricardo, there’s a truck. Is it his? Is it his? I told you he’d come back for me.

RICARDO. Judy, wait. The storm is—

(Judy rushes out the front door. Derek takes a sugar packet out of his pocket, opens it and eats the sugar.)

DEREK. Rosie hates me.

RICARDO. Rosie hates everyone.

DEREK. I only took the sugar packets because I was hungry.

RICARDO. Derek, did you take your sister’s gun?

DEREK. I don’t wanna talk about that.

RICARDO. She called me. Britney said it was missing. Did you take it?

DEREK. No. It doesn’t matter.

RICARDO. Did you get rid of it?

DEREK. I put her gun away, someplace safe. That way it can’t hurt anyone.

RICARDO. You shouldn’t be here.

DEREK. I didn’t have anywhere else to go. Besides, I promised you—

RICARDO. I know what you promised me. I just didn’t think you were serious.

DEREK. Of course I was serious. Look, look. (He goes to his backpack and opens it carefully. He pulls out two bus tickets.) I bought them just like I told you I would. Two bus tickets to San Diego. The bus leaves at ten-thirty. We can finally go. Just like we talked about. And see — (He pulls out a road map and unfolds it.) I even got a map so we can see all of the places that were gonna go. Isn’t it nice? All these cities and places and rivers and lakes and just imagine what the people will be like. God, it’s hard to breathe just thinking about it. I’ve waited so long for this—

RICARDO. You bought tickets?

DEREK. Two of them. One for you and one for—

RICARDO. Where did you get the money for bus tickets?

DEREK. It doesn’t matter. We needed it and I got it. You’re my best friend and we want to leave together and you said all that we needed was money and I got it and I bought the tickets and I’m ready to go now. Tonight at ten-thirty.

RICARDO. Did you sell your mother’s ring?

DEREK. (Beat.) I had to.

RICARDO. Damn it, why? Why did you do that?

DEREK. Because I want to go—

RICARDO. No. Derek, we can’t.

DEREK. I sold it and I bought the tickets and I packed a few things. Britney said it was a good thing I had enough sense to leave because she wanted me out. She said the sight of me made her sick. She said I was a filthy, disgusting person and that you and I deserve what we get because we’re in love with each other.

RICARDO. (Panics.) You told your sister?!

DEREK. (Afraid:) No, no. You told me to never tell anyone and I haven’t. I swear to God, I haven’t told a soul.

RICARDO. There’s nothing to tell. Remember that, Derek.

DEREK. They all think we’re best friends, just like you wanted.

RICARDO. We are friends.

DEREK. But what about the other stuff?

RICARDO. (Beat.) I didn’t mean for it to go that far.

DEREK. But we liked it.

RICARDO. I know. That’s my problem.

DEREK. It wasn’t your fault. I kissed you first.

RICARDO. (Beat.) Everything was easier when stuff was simpler between us. (Beat.) I’ve never done this sort of thing, Derek.

DEREK. Yeah, neither have I.

RICARDO. (Awkward:) I don’t know if I’m the way you want me to be.

DEREK. Maybe you aren’t that way with other people, only with me.

RICARDO. Yeah, maybe.

DEREK. Is it true what my sister said?

RICARDO. What do you mean?

DEREK. Are we in love with each other?

RICARDO. Yeah…sure… I just don’t want anything bad to happen to you, Derek. Do you understand that?

DEREK. But I thought—

RICARDO. Rosie thinks you and I are… together.

DEREK. Then maybe she’s the one who told my sister.

RICARDO. Do you think someone saw us, Derek? At the lake that night?

DEREK. I don’t care if they did.

RICARDO. Well, I do. If my family thinks me and you are -

DEREK. Ricardo, I’m hungry. Can you make me something? I spent all my money and I haven’t eaten since yesterday.

RICARDO. I wish you wouldn’t have bought bus tickets. Maybe it’s not too late—

DEREK. For what?

RICARDO. To get your mother’s ring back.

DEREK. But she wanted me to go. She told me so. She said I was special and that I was gonna meet someone else who was just as special and someday I would leave this place. And then, after she died, I met you. And I finally had someone else to talk to. That’s probably why I like you, because you’re nice and you listen to me and I know that’s a tough thing to do because sometimes I don’t make much sense—

RICARDO. (Softens:) You make perfect sense to me.

DEREK. When you started working here, everyone was being mean to me and you made them stop. You stuck up for me, Ricardo.

RICARDO. I didn’t do anything special.

DEREK. You did, you did. No one has ever looked out for me like you.

RICARDO. It wasn’t fair…what they were saying and doing to you.

DEREK. Sometimes, it hurts me — all the stuff in my head. I can’t turn it off. I want it to stop. All the thoughts and the words and the little bits and pieces that keep going over and over — it makes me crazy. I really thought I was crazy until I met you. I was very, very lonely and I don’t feel embarrassed about telling you that, because I know you understand me. (Beat.) This song on the radio is very beautiful. Don’t you think?

RICARDO. It’s one of my favorites.

DEREK. It makes me want to kiss you.

RICARDO. Don’t do that.

DEREK. Why not?

RICARDO. Not here. Not now.

DEREK. Are you mad? About the ring and the gun?

RICARDO. I didn’t know you were going to buy bus tickets.

DEREK. Yesterday, some boys threw rocks at me and I hid underneath a car so that they couldn’t get me.

RICARDO. Derek, I’m scared. I’ve screwed things up for you.

DEREK. No, you didn’t.

RICARDO. Listen, when you and I first met, I felt sorry for you. I knew you needed a friend.

DEREK. I have to go. I’ll go to the bus depot and I’ll sit there and I’ll wait. You can bring me some food in a little while and then at ten-thirty we can — (He grabs his backpack, as if to leave. Ricardo suddenly reaches for him, to calm him down.) You’re mad at me because of the tickets.

RICARDO. I’m not mad.

DEREK. You didn’t want to kiss me.

RICARDO. (Frustrated:) Derek, I don’t know what I want. Can’t you understand that?

DEREK. I only did what you said. It was a beautiful ring. (Beat.) Maybe it will lead us to heaven.

RICARDO. What if it doesn’t? None of this is easy.

DEREK. It’s killing me. Not being able to be with you. I’d rather let them shoot me dead and murder me than to go another day of my life without being with you. (Beat.) I know you wanted us to wait a little bit before we finally left. But I can’t wait anymore. I swear to God, I’ll die. I’ll go crazy. (Beat.) Maybe I already have. You’re the only person in this entire world who cares about me. We can do this. We can get on that bus tonight at ten-thirty and we can leave Grand Island and we don’t ever have to come back. And in a couple of days, we’ll be in San Diego. We can walk on the beach and we can put our feet in the water and we can laugh in the sun and we can be together. I want that more than anything. (Beat.) I hate this place. I hate everyone here because they all hate me. And I don’t ever want them to hate you. So if we leave tonight, we can get away from here before they turn on you like they’ve turned against me. And I’ll be good there. I promise. I’ll take the medication and I’ll try to stop the noise in my head, once and for all. And I’ll work really hard and I’ll do whatever I have to. But if we stay here…My heart can’t take it no more, Ricardo. I lay awake at night and I listen to Britney and Nathan beat the hell out of each other and I close my eyes and I pretend you’re there with me and you’re holding me and I feel safe. I feel loved. That’s all I’ve ever wanted. (Beat.) Please. Let’s go. Tonight. If we do, I know I’ll still be alive when dawn breaks.

RICARDO. Derek, there’s a lot to talk about.

DEREK. I don’t understand. You said—

RICARDO. I know what I said! What do you want me to do? My sister is sick. My Mom and Dad—

DEREK. They can take care of her! They made her sick and it’s their fault and they can fix it!

RICARDO. Maybe I’m not ready to leave Grand Island.

DEREK. Well, I am.

(Derek grabs his backpack and the bus tickets and he bolts out the front door, leaving the road map behind. Ricardo starts to run after him, but he stops. He looks out the front door for a moment, watching Derek disappear. He sits down at a table, lowering his head into his folded arms. Softly, he begins to cry.

A few moments pass before Judy enters. She stands in the doorway and watches Ricardo. Slowly, she goes to him and runs a comforting hand through his hair.)

JUDY. I hate to see men cry.

RICARDO. (Looks up, wipes his eyes:) I have a lot on my mind.

JUDY. My daddy used to cry. My mother would take off for days at a time and she wouldn’t call. My daddy would sit in the kitchen until all hours of the night and he would just cry. It used to break my heart. (Beat.) What have you gotten yourself into, Ricardo?

RICARDO. I’m scared.

JUDY. If what folks are saying about the two of you is true, then you should leave. You won’t survive here. It’ll destroy you. Look what it’s done to him. That boy is ruined.

RICARDO. It’s my fault.

JUDY. That’s what my daddy used to say. He’d look at me and say, ‘Judy, this is all my fault. I wasn’t good to your mother and now she’s gone and run away’. I’ll tell you the same thing I used to tell him. It’s not your fault. No matter how hard you try, you can’t tame a wild heart. (Beat.) You’ve been real good to me, Ricardo, and I’ve never spoken an unkind word about you. I know what the Bible says and I know what I’ve heard around town, but I know the type of person you are. Despite what I’ve been taught to believe, your relations with that boy are of no concern to me. You’re still my friend. (Beat.) Every time she ran, my mother always came back home. The last time she ran, she didn’t return. (Beat.) A whole year went by before they found her body in the trunk of a car.

RICARDO. Does your father still cry?

JUDY. No, but I never hear him laugh.

RICARDO. My mother and father need me. We moved to Grand Island to try to give my sister a better life. She’s so messed up and the medical bills are more than my parents can handle. If I don’t help them—

JUDY. What will happen if you leave?

RICARDO. My sister might die.

JUDY. That’s not your decision, Ricardo. That’s the will of God. From what I gather, your sister has been in pain for a long time.

RICARDO. It wasn’t her fault. (Beat.) My father was driving and he was fighting with my mother and it happened so fast, they didn’t have time — my sister was thrown from the car and she’s never been the same. We came here because life was quiet and my grandparents got us a house but nothing seems to help. I work as much as I can and it doesn’t seem to matter. Nothing matters anymore.

JUDY. Derek needs you and you’re good for him. Nobody’s ever wanted him. Not even his own mother, God rest her soul. Britney is too busy with her six hundred boyfriends and each one of them is worse than the last. Nathan is a monster.

RICARDO. You think I should go?

JUDY. I’m going home, Ricardo.

RICARDO. What about your truck driver?

JUDY. Maybe Rosie is right. Maybe I’m just a ridiculous woman. We both know there’s a storm coming tonight. I don’t want to get stuck in the middle of it. I’d rather be at home, with my father. He needs me.

RICARDO. You’re giving up? You said he was coming back.

JUDY. I’ve been promised that before and each time I wanted to believe it, but I can’t and I don’t anymore.

RICARDO. I think he’ll be back, Judy.

JUDY. No, he won’t. But that’s all right. I won’t stop laughing. (Beat.) No matter what. (She exits.)

(Ricardo, alone, picks up the road map. He unfolds it and starts to trace a route to San Diego with his finger.

Lights fade to black.)

ACT ONE: SCENE TWO

(As the lights come up, the diner is empty. A half an hour has passed. The radio is on.)

RADIO ANNOUNCER. Well, folks, the storm hasn’t hit quite yet, but I’m told that when it does, we might get blown right off the map. They say we have a chance of flash floods tonight. By tomorrow morning, though, everything should be cleared up. They say blue skies are in the forecast.

(Music begins to play.

A few moments pass before BRITNEY, a simple woman in her late twenties, enters in a hurry. She is frightened. She is wearing a blouse that is ripped. It is evident she has been crying. There is a visible bruise on her left arm. She goes behind the counter, hides.

Immediately, NATHAN enters. He is in his thirties and is exceptionally handsome, physically intimidating. He’s the ultimate bad boy. He turns the radio off.

Silence.

Nathan stands in the middle of the restaurant, waiting and listening.)

NATHAN. I know you’re in here. You can’t hide from me. (He listens closely and hears faint crying. He goes behind the counter and pulls Britney out of her hiding place by her hair.) What did I tell you, huh? Think you can fucking outsmart me?

BRITNEY. You’re crazy.

NATHAN. Give me the keys.

BRITNEY. I don’t have them.

NATHAN. (He strikes her. She collides with a table and knocks over a chair. She ends up on the floor, on all fours.) Give me the fucking keys!

BRITNEY. You were supposed to be the perfect man.

NATHAN. Did you hear me?!

BRITNEY. I wanted to be your wife.

NATHAN. I’m not fucking around anymore. Give me the keys.

BRITNEY. I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you. (She stands.) But I would rather die! (She lunges at him, shoving him, striking him. They struggle violently.)

ROSIE. (She enters from the kitchen carrying a bus tray of silverware. At the sight of the struggle, she yells and throws the tray on the floor, trying to create a distraction.) Nathan, get out!

NATHAN. (Still struggling:) Stay out of this, Rosie!

ROSIE. I said get the fuck out. Ain’t putting up with your bullshit tonight. Let go of her!

NATHAN. (He throws Britney down. She hits the ground and crawls away from Nathan quickly. She ends up near the kitchen door, terrified.) Tell her to give me my keys.

ROSIE. (To Britney:) Do you have his keys?

BRITNEY. (She holds them up with a trembling hand. The keys rattle lightly.) Don’t give ‘em to him. Please, Rosie. I don’t have anywhere to go.

ROSIE. The hell you don’t. (She takes the keys and goes to the main entrance of the diner. She opens the door and hurls the keys out into the parking lot.) Here’s your keys, Nathan! You show back up here again tonight, I’m calling the sheriff and you know he’s been waiting three years to kick your ass. Now, get the fuck out before I kill you myself.

NATHAN. (Slow; creepy:) Rosie, Rosie, Rosie. Got a pocketful of… (He touches her, suggestively. She slaps his hand away.) Ashes fall. They hit the ground.

ROSIE. I told you to leave, pig face.

NATHAN. Think you’re pretty tough now, don’t you?

ROSIE. I can take care of myself. I always have.

NATHAN. Since when? Since Della hired that idiot to protect you when you’re alone here at nights? Believe me. If I wanted you again, he couldn’t stop me. He isn’t even here right now. I saw him down at the bus depot, taking food to Britney’s faggot brother.

ROSIE. I should have put your ass back in jail.

NATHAN. But you didn’t. And you wanna know why you didn’t? Because you liked it.

ROSIE. You make me sick, you dumb bastard.

NATHAN. Sweet, sweet, Rosie. So young. So tough. You weren’t too tough that night, were you? (Beat.) You didn’t even fight me off.

ROSIE. (She goes to the telephone on the counter and dials a number.) I should have done this a long time ago.

NATHAN. (Approaching her:) What are you doing?

ROSIE. Calling the sheriff. Telling him to throw your crazy ass back in jail where you fucking belong.

NATHAN. You gonna tell him what we did? Hell, Rosie, I’m a good man. Everybody in town thinks the world of Britney. She’s the best cashier at Grady’s. You know that. You tell the sheriff what we did and by tomorrow morning everyone in Grand Island will know what a filthy little whore you are. My God, you practically begged me for it.

ROSIE. You fucking liar! (She slams the phone against the side of Nathan’s head. He recoils and yells in pain.) I told you to get out!

NATHAN. I should fucking kill you!

ROSIE. You already tried that once, remember?

NATHAN. Mark my word—

ROSIE. Your word means nothing to me. I want you out and if you know what’s good for you—

NATHAN. Just remember, sweet Rosie, you’re the one who declared the war.

ROSIE. Go fight yourself, Nathan. I’m through. You’re insane and I hope someone kills you for what you’ve done to the women in Grand Island.

NATHAN. (Sinister:) I’ll kill your Grandmother.

ROSIE. (Beat.) I’ll kill her first.

NATHAN. (To Britney:) You stay here with this bitch and you ain’t coming home.

ROSIE. She’s staying here with me.

NATHAN. (In Rosie’s face:) You can have her.

ROSIE. Fine, then. She’s mine. (Beat.) Now get out! (He exits. Immediately, Rosie turns to Britney.) What in the hell is wrong with you?

BRITNEY. He was hitting me. I ran from him.

ROSIE. Did you get the money?

BRITNEY. I took all of it from the store. It’s in the truck.

ROSIE. You left it in the God damn truck?

BRITNEY. Under the seat. In a paper bag.

ROSIE. How are we supposed to leave tonight if you don’t have the money?

BRITNEY. You’re going to be upset with me, but I’ve thought things through. (Beat.) I’m taking the money back. I’m not going with you.

ROSIE. The man is a barbarian. He beats the shit out of you every chance he gets.

BRITNEY. It’s not about him. (Beat.) I’m pregnant, Rosie. I’m gonna have a baby.

ROSIE. You’re even dumber than I thought.

BRITNEY. Can I tell you a secret? (Beat.) It’s not his baby.

ROSIE. Does he know?

BRITNEY. Not yet.

ROSIE. Good. I hope he blows his head off when you tell him.

BRITNEY. I’ll get you some money, but I’m staying in Grand Island. I just have to find my mother’s ring and I’ll sell it. I think Derek hid it from me somewhere.

ROSIE. We had a promise, Britney. We made plans. I want out of this place and I’ll do anything to get on that bus tonight.

BRITNEY. What about your grandmother?

ROSIE. What about her? She’s old. She’s waiting for the aliens to come and take her away because she’s a fucking nut like everyone else in Nebraska.

BRITNEY. Do you want me to look after her, since I’ll be here?

ROSIE. Become her fucking nurse for all I care.

BRITNEY. It’s funny that you say that. I’m actually thinking of going to nursing school. After the baby is born, I mean. I think I’d be really good at helping people.

ROSIE. I can’t believe you want to stay. I should’ve known you’d change your mind. All because of a piece of ass.

BRITNEY. I know what Nathan is like. I’m not staying because of him. I told you that.

ROSIE. You know what he did to me. You’re his girlfriend, for God’s sake. It doesn’t bother you that your man has forced himself on half the women in this town?

BRITNEY. Some of them wanted it. Like Sheila and Madison.

ROSIE. That’s sick.

BRITNEY. I see how they look at him. Sheila practically seduces him every time we go down to Clyde’s for a beer. And Madison told me to my face that she wants to marry him. He’s bad. Some girls like that.

ROSIE. Well, I didn’t. He practically raped me. Did you know that? Huh? Do you care? Yeah, all you care about is the cheap, sick thrill you get every time he smacks you around. You’re a fucking puppet, Britney. A dumb, lazy, nasty little puppet who stays with a pig because you get off when he nearly bashes your skull in. You wanna stay here. You’re an idiot. You stay and rot away with your bastard baby. I’m leaving. I’m going to Miami and no one will stop me. Not you. Not my stupid grandmother and certainly not your ugly boyfriend. I got a suitcase behind the counter and I got some food in my purse. I’m not going home tonight, because if I do, I will kill that old woman in her sleep. (Beat.) Now, you go get the money you promised me and get your fucking ass back here so I can go to Miami and start my wonderful new life. Do you hear me?

BRITNEY. I said I’ll get you some cash. I need the ring.

ROSIE. Then go find it.

BRITNEY. I feel horrible for stealing from the store. I have to put the money back before they realize it’s missing in the morning.

ROSIE. We’re supposed to go to Miami and share an apartment and get jobs and be happy. You messed everything up.

BRITNEY. You can go by yourself.

ROSIE. Believe me, I am. But once I’m gone, you’ll regret it. You’ll be stuck here working the cash register at Grady’s.

BRITNEY. You make it sound like a bad thing. Did you hear? I’m the Employee of the Month.

ROSIE. Well, congratufuckinglations. Who knows, Britney? Maybe nursing school will be more glamorous than ringing up groceries all day long.

BRITNEY. I don’t need all the excitement like you do, Rosie.

ROSIE. You’re boring me.

BRITNEY. I can’t go to Miami if I’m pregnant. Who’s gonna help me with the baby?

ROSIE. It’s not my fault you got knocked up.

BRITNEY. I’m scared.

ROSIE. Because you don’t have any backbone. You never have.

BRITNEY. I know you don’t mean that. Me and you have been friends for a long time. You were there for me when my Mom died.

ROSIE. I’m not as nice as I used to be, Britney.

BRITNEY. Yeah, I noticed that.

ROSIE. We both know I was never a Girl Scout.

BRITNEY. Still, you’re always so angry now.

ROSIE. Don’t ever fall in love. (Beat.) It’ll make you crazy. Just look at what it’s done to me.

BRITNEY. Is that why you’re going to Miami?

ROSIE. You’re wasting my time, Britney. Memory lane is a dead end street. Go get the money.

BRITNEY. What if Nathan catches me? I have to go back to the house to get the money out of the truck and then sneak back into the store. If he sees me—

ROSIE. That’s your fault, not mine. You shouldn’t have left the money to begin with. I’m not sticking up for you anymore. You’re a grown woman. You made a promise.

BRITNEY. I could get fired. I mean, I’ve worked at that store for three years. Those people trust me.

ROSIE. Well, if you were going to Miami with me, they’d never catch you. If you stay here, I’m sure they’ll find out.

BRITNEY. What if they send me to jail?

ROSIE. Then you and Nathan can share a cell. You two deserve each other.

BRITNEY. I’m not staying with him — when you leave, I mean.

ROSIE. Bullshit.

BRITNEY. I’m serious. Not after what he’s done.

ROSIE. Who are you kidding? You’re gonna die with that man. You like what he does to you.

BRITNEY. His mother made him mean. Have you met her before? She lives in Kearney. She’s horrible.

ROSIE. I don’t give a shit. Go get me some money. The bus leaves at midnight.

BRITNEY. It’s a long walk. The storm is coming -

ROSIE. (She goes behind the counter and gets an umbrella. She tosses it to Britney, who drops it and then picks it up.) Here. Take this. And don’t be long. I don’t like to wait.

BRITNEY. (Starts to exit and then stops:) Rosie? For whatever it’s worth, I’m sorry I changed my mind. I didn’t mean to break a promise. (She exits.)

ROSIE. (Yelling off stage, after Britney:) Yeah, well, have fun flunking outta nursing school! I’ll be sitting on the beach drinking a Piña Colada and having the time of my life! Thanks for nothing! (After a moment, she goes to the phone and dials:) Grandma? (Her mood softens.) It’s Rosie. I’m working late tonight, so don’t wait up for me. If you need anything, go next door and ask Mrs. Huxley. Don’t forget to take your medication. (Beat.) Yeah, me too. Bye. (She hangs up.)

RICARDO (He enters from the front door, cold and shivering. He has a duffel bag with him.) It’s getting pretty bad out there. No rain yet, but the wind is terrible.

ROSIE. Is your sister still alive?

RICARDO. (Wary:) She’s fine.

ROSIE. Did you get everything you needed?

RICARDO. What are you talking about?

ROSIE. Gimme a break, Ricardo. Everybody knows you and your psycho boy are planning to run off together. (Beat.) I bet you didn’t even tell your crippled sister good bye. Is that your get away bag?

RICARDO. Stay out of my business, Rosie.

ROSIE. Isn’t he waiting for you at the bus depot? Didn’t you go down there and feed him and declare your undying sick and twisted love? Did you kiss him good bye, lover boy? (Beat.) Where is it that the two of you are sneaking off to? (She goes to the road map, sees the outlined trip. Ricardo tries to take the map from her, but she wins the struggle.) California? That figures. (She tosses the map to the floor.) They like your type out there. Maybe you two freaks will even get married.

RICARDO. Well, if we do, you’re not invited.

ROSIE. This is cute, Ricardo, how you’re running away with your retard all in the name of love and shit like that. You got your little bag and a wild look in your eyes. Or maybe you’ve been crying. But your family — your poor, poor sister — who’s going to look after her when you’re gone? Your father? He blames himself every day for what he’s done. (Beat.) Wasn’t he the one who was driving?

RICARDO. It won’t work, Rosie. Not this time. I’m not buying.

ROSIE. I’m not selling.

RICARDO. What do you want from me?

ROSIE. I thought you were Catholic.

RICARDO. I am.

ROSIE. They didn’t teach you in church that what you’re doing is wrong? They didn’t tell you that having a fag for a son is the biggest disappointment to a mother and a father? No one mentioned that you were going to burn in hell for being a homo? (Beat.) Help me out here, Ricardo. I’m confused. I seem to remember a night or two you and I spent together.

RICARDO. You’re delusional. You and I never slept together.

ROSIE. You can’t blame a girl for trying.

RICARDO. I fell for your act. But I know you now. You’re a spider.

ROSIE. You were new in town. A novelty. A Mexican who could speak English without spitting on me. Really, Ricardo, did you think you and I were gonna date? Run away and get married? God, you’re so stupid. You were a new flavor I wanted to try. That’s all. (Beat.) Little did I know you’d punk out once your pants were off.

RICARDO. That was two years ago. That was before—

ROSIE. Before you decided to turn into a big homo?

RICARDO. I’m not. You wouldn’t understand. And keep your mouth shut or else I’ll tell Della you’ve been snaking money out of the donation box.

ROSIE. Like they even give that money to the crippled children. That church puts every dime in their fat pockets. A bunch of hypocrites. (Beat.) Just like you, sad boy.

RICARDO. There’s nothing going on between me and Derek.

ROSIE. Look me in the eye and say it again.

RICARDO. Why? You’re not my mother.

ROSIE. Does she know? Have you told her yet? That she won’t be having any grandchildren because you’re doing a retard up the ass?

RICARDO. Jealous?

ROSIE. I don’t understand what you see in Derek. He’s a freak. (Beat.) Or maybe that’s why you do it to him. Because you feel sorry for him. Because you want to be his little Latin hero. (Beat.) Wow. And you say I’m the twisted one.

RICARDO. You’re just pissed because I wouldn’t have sex with you. (Beat.) Let it go, Rosie. Get over it.

ROSIE. You’re wrong. I don’t hold grudges. (Beat.) I get even.

RICARDO. (He grabs her; shakes her violently. She loves it, screams with pleasure.) You want me to make love to you, is that it?

ROSIE. (Animalistic:) Do it!

RICARDO. What do you want me to do? (He shoves her against a wall, pinning her.)

ROSIE. (She clings to him, wild with passion.) Prove it to me, fast boy.

RICARDO. You think if I have sex with you, I’m a man?

ROSIE. I know you want it. You’re just scared. Let me help you. (She starts to unbuckle his belt.) Come on, Ricardo. Show me what you’ve got.

RICARDO. (He holds her face in his hands, kisses her with fierceness. He pulls away from her. She is breathless.) Satisfied?

ROSIE. (Trembling:) Not even close.

RICARDO. Maybe you’d like a taste of your own medicine.

ROSIE. (Quiet.) You bastard.

RICARDO. If I’m gonna make love to a woman, it certainly won’t be you.

ROSIE. You won’t find anyone better in Grand Island.

RICARDO. I already have.

ROSIE. So, you finally admit it? You’re in love with him.

RICARDO. No matter what I am, you’re still a piece of trash.

ROSIE. Sticks and stones, Ricardo.

RICARDO. (Suddenly:) Your mother left because she hated you.

ROSIE. (Caught off guard:) What?

RICARDO. You heard me. She couldn’t stand the sight of you. Left you here to rot away with your grandmother. And she doesn’t even want you.

ROSIE. Fuck you!

RICARDO. You don’t know who your father is because your mother was a bigger whore than you are.

ROSIE. I’ll kill you, you son of a bitch!

RICARDO. Yeah, you can dish it out, but you can’t take it.

ROSIE. I’m warning you!

RICARDO. What are you planning to do, Rosie? Sleep your way out of Grand Island? Let the first truck driver you see have his way with you, hoping he lets you come along for the ride? You’re no different than Judy. You’re no different than Britney or Lucille. You’re no different than me.

ROSIE. Don’t you think I know that?!

(A moment passes between them, a point of no return. They lock eyes, speaking silently, understanding one another. Outside, it has started to rain. A strange sense of calm creeps in.)

RICARDO. It’s raining.

ROSIE. I guess the storm finally hit.

RICARDO. You need a ride home later?

ROSIE. Aren’t you the gentleman?

RICARDO. I don’t want you walking home in the rain.

ROSIE. I can take care of myself.

RICARDO. I know. (Beat.) That’s what scares me.

ROSIE. Everything scares you.

RICARDO. (He notices the mess:) What in the hell happened in here?

ROSIE. (She starts cleaning up, including the silverware.) I dropped the silverware.

RICARDO. You want me to help you clean it up?

ROSIE. Don’t worry about it.

RICARDO. I think we should close up.

ROSIE. Anxious to get on the road?

RICARDO. I want to get out town before the storm gets bad.

ROSIE. Did you ever consider that maybe I wanted to be the one to run away with you? (Beat.) I’ll miss you, you fucker.

RICARDO. (Beat.) The feeling is mutual.

ROSIE. You’re not the only one who dreams about leaving this place.

RICARDO. You would really do it? You’d leave your Grandmother?

ROSIE. Just like you’re leaving your sister.

RICARDO. But I have a reason to go.

ROSIE. So do I.

RICARDO. I’m taking some food. Don’t tell anyone.

ROSIE. Take whatever you want. I plan to, when I leave.

RICARDO. I’m leaving a note for Della. Make sure she gets it.

ROSIE. Your resignation?

RICARDO. And my apologies.

ROSIE. How formal. She’s a sad woman. She hates this restaurant as much as I do. The only reason why she keeps it is out of respect for her dead husband who left her the stupid thing. I would’ve sold it. Nobody wants to eat here anymore. The food sucks. Always has. (Beat.) This place will die without us, Ricardo. We both know Kimberly will quit soon. (With a small laugh:) Have you ever noticed she’s dumber than dirt? That bitch deserves what she gets. She’s a horrible waitress. (Beat.) Has a real bad attitude.

RICARDO. This place has served its purpose, Rosie. (He exits to the kitchen.)

ROSIE. (To herself:) For who?

NATHAN. (He enters cautiously. Rosie is down on her hands and knees picking up silverware. She looks up, sees Nathan and then slowly stands with a steak knife in her hand.) Rosie, Rosie, Rosie. Got a pocketful of… Ashes fall. They hit the ground. And I hear talk all over town.

ROSIE. (She takes a step towards him.) Do you want me to kill you?

NATHAN. I just want you to love me.

(Rosie rushes to him, tosses the knife down and they collide into a passionate kiss. The attraction between them is wild, barbaric, animal-like. He clears off the top of a table, with a quick swipe of his hand, and he lifts Rosie up and places her on the table top. She leans back, claws at him with lust.)

ROSIE. I want you so bad.

NATHAN. She bought the whole thing. Just like you said she would.

ROSIE. Where is she now?

NATHAN. Crying at home. She tried to get the money out of the truck.

ROSIE. Did you hit her?

NATHAN. I beat the shit out of her. Called her a thief and a liar.

ROSIE. (She moans in ecstasy:) Oh God, I love you.

NATHAN. You gonna run away with me?

ROSIE. Hell yes, I am. We’re going to Miami, baby.

NATHAN. You gonna be my girl?

ROSIE. As long as you wanna be my man.

NATHAN. Don’t worry. I’ve got everything under control.

ROSIE. Not everything.

(Britney enters from the front door, unnoticed and wet from the rain. Her bottom lip is busted open. She sees Rosie and Nathan together, on the table. She is mortified. Slowly, she picks up the steak knife from the floor. She approaches Nathan.)

NATHAN. What do you mean?

ROSIE. Your little Britney is having a baby.

NATHAN. What?

ROSIE. Relax, bad boy, it ain’t yours.

NATHAN. You’re wrong. Britney can’t have kids. The doctor told me so himself.

ROSIE. Why would she lie?

NATHAN. I could eat you alive.

ROSIE. Where’s the money?

NATHAN. You’re so fucking hot.

ROSIE. Baby, where’s the money?

NATHAN. I love you.

ROSIE. I love you, too, Ricardo.

NATHAN. What the fuck? You just called me Ricardo.

BRITNEY. I’m taking the money back to the store! (Britney raises the knife, prepared to stab Nathan in the back. Nathan jumps, rolls off of Rosie and hits the floor. The knife comes down, landing in the middle of Rosie’s chest. She screams in pain and within seconds she loses consciousness. Britney turns to Nathan.) Look at what you made me do!

LINDA. (Barefoot, wet and cold, she enters the restaurant. She is dazed and weak. She is very pregnant and very young.) Help me.

RICARDO. (He enters from the kitchen.) Rosie? (A moment of realization:) Oh my God—

NATHAN. Is she dead?

BRITNEY. I didn’t mean to do it! (She throws the knife down and runs out of the restaurant, repeating the same phrase over and over, like a hysterical mantra.)

LINDA. (She staggers to Ricardo.) Can you please help me?

(Linda faints, falling into Ricardo’s arms. He gently guides her down to the floor.

Nathan scrambles up, goes behind the counter and picks up Rosie’s suitcase. He rips the suitcase open and throws its contents on the floor. He opens the cash register, and empties it into the suitcase. Ricardo does not try to stop him or intervene. Instead, he grabs a tablecloth and covers Rosie’s body with it. Nathan dashes out of the restaurant.

Ricardo picks up the road map, discarded on the floor. Slowly, he folds it up and puts it into his back pocket.

Lights fade to black.)

ACT TWO: SCENE ONE

(When the lights come up, two hours have passed. Linda is sitting at one of the tables, hunched over a bowl of soup. It is evident she is hungry.

Ricardo is on his hands and knees, scrubbing the floor. A bucket of water is nearby.

The radio is on.)

RADIO ANNOUNCER. Winds have reached 50 miles per hour in parts of the state. We’ve got enough rain to fill an ocean. The temperature has continued to drop. Folks, it’s getting cold out there. Stay warm and hopefully the storm will pass over us soon. Here’s a little something to heat things up.

(Music begins to play. Judy rushes inside from the main entrance, wet from the rain. She is carrying a grocery bag with her. She turns off the radio.)

JUDY. (To Linda:) Oh good. You’re eating. How are you feeling?

LINDA. Much better, thank you.

JUDY. You are a precious thing. Do you know that? I could curse your folks for throwing you out. Have they no shame?

LINDA. I’m the one who shamed them. My father said he’d rather see me dead than pregnant. He almost got his wish. Do you think the storm will hit soon?

RICARDO. It already has.

JUDY. Ricardo, this soup is cold. And she needs some crackers. Get her some crackers.

RICARDO. They’re behind the counter. My shift ended five minutes ago. Kimberly’s running late.

JUDY. What time is it?

RICARDO. It’s after ten, Judy. I’ll be leaving soon.

JUDY. Made up your mind, did you?

RICARDO. It was made up for me.

JUDY. Do you think Derek knows about his sister?

RICARDO. He’s waiting for me down at the bus station. I’ll be on my way soon.

JUDY. I pray to God that Britney went fast. The sheriff said he only used one bullet. I don’t think she felt anything.

RICARDO. I’m sure she felt everything. Britney was a sensitive woman.

JUDY. (She goes behind the counter and gets crackers. She takes them to Linda.) Look, Linda. I brought you some stuff. I wasn’t sure what size shoe you wore, so I brought you a pair of house slippers. I only wore them once. They made my feet swell. And here’s a sweatshirt. The zipper sticks a little. It’s temperamental. Here, try this on. (She literally dresses Linda as if she were dressing a doll. Linda obliges.)

LINDA. Thank you, ma’am. Thank you both. I don’t know what I would’ve done. I saw the light from the highway and I just followed it.

JUDY. I’m just glad you got out of that car when you did. That maniac could’ve killed you. And the baby.

LINDA. My father wanted me to have an abortion.

JUDY. It’s the will of God you didn’t.

LINDA. Do you have any children?

RICARDO. She doesn’t need any. She’s got you now.

JUDY. I’ve never been married, Linda. I don’t have any children of my own. I take care of my father because he — well, my mother left us years ago to fend for ourselves. He’s been broken hearted ever since.

RICARDO. He isn’t broken hearted, Judy. He’s a drunk.

JUDY. Don’t speak that way in front of Linda.

RICARDO. She isn’t made of glass.

JUDY. Why are you scrubbing the floor, Ricardo?

RICARDO. I can still smell her blood.

JUDY. Use some bleach. That works on everything.

LINDA. I think it’s very nice that you take care of your father. It means you’re a woman of good character. That’s what my Aunt Ruth always says. People who take care of other people are of good character.

JUDY. Your Aunt Ruth sounds like a good Christian woman to me.

LINDA. Well, no. Actually, she ran off with a married man and they robbed a Dairy Queen up north. (Beat.) Last I heard she was wanted in three states. She’s the one who introduced me to Alfred. He was my boyfriend. But he slept with my cousin and he told me he hated me when I got pregnant because I ruined any chance he ever had of getting out of Harmonville. That’s where I’m from. It’s about a hundred miles from here.

JUDY. I know where it is. It’s in Hell’s backyard.

RICARDO. What are you going to do now, Linda?

LINDA. I have no idea. (Making light of her situation:) I don’t really have many options.

JUDY. She’s coming home with me. I’ve already fixed up the guest room for her. Linda, you need to be drinking milk. Let me get you some.

LINDA. I’m allergic to milk. It makes me sick. I throw up all the time. Can’t keep nothing down.

JUDY. How old are you?

LINDA. I’m fifteen, ma’am.

JUDY. You’re just a child. A baby. And your folks just tossed you out in the cold?

LINDA. I don’t have folks anymore. My father said I was disowned. He said Alfred was a bad influence on me, since he was so much older.

JUDY. How much older?

LINDA. He’s thirty-seven. (Judy nearly faints.) He’ll be thirty-eight next week. We were supposed to go to Cheyenne for his birthday. His sister owns a nightclub there. Alfred said after my baby was born, his sister was gonna give me a job as a dancer. I love to dance. I took ballet class when I was nine but the classes got real expensive and then my father lost his job at the refinery and we had to sell the car. It was an old car and it broke down all the time, but we sure missed it when it was gone. My mother worked in town and she walked back and forth everyday — seven miles, total. She had blisters all over her feet. They were huge. She would come home at night and sit in the kitchen and peel off her stockings and her feet would drip blood. But she’d never cry. My father didn’t like it if we cried. He said it made us weak. Alfred cried once. When he found out I was pregnant. At first, I thought he was crying because he was so happy. But I was wrong. He was angry. I’ve never seen someone so angry before. He said I was stupid. He used to always say he had big plans — real big plans. But he never did anything. Never did anything but tell me I was stupid. Except when he was nice to me. I used to wonder if he was

going to include me in his big plans but I was too scared to ask. I figured when the time came, he’d take me with him. And he did. (Beat.) But a hundred miles down the road, he decided he didn’t like me anymore. He said I would be the death of him. I don’t wanna be that to anybody. So, when we stopped at a gas station — I got out of the car. And I ran.

RICARDO. I’m tired of cleaning this place up.

JUDY. You go on then. Get down to the bus station. I’m sure that boy is waiting for you. You need to tell him about his sister. And Rosie.

RICARDO. What difference does it make, Judy?

JUDY. It makes a difference. I know it does.

RICARDO. People die here all the time. Drunken fights. Jealous lovers. Revenge. (Beat.) Car accidents.

JUDY. What happened to Rosie and Britney was no accident, Ricardo.

RICARDO. Wasn’t it?

JUDY. Has anyone found Lucille yet? Does she know about Rosie? Someone should tell her.

RICARDO. It’s late. It won’t be news until tomorrow morning. Right now, it’s too unreal to even comprehend. Maybe that’s my problem. I don’t understand anything. (He exits to the kitchen.)

JUDY. Don’t you mind him, Linda.

LINDA. I’m sure he’s upset his friend got killed. I’d be sad, too.

JUDY. People handle death in different ways. Ricardo’s got a lot on his mind. He’s a very nice man and he’s been very good to me.

LINDA. Is that why you’re being so nice to me? Because people have been nice to you?

JUDY. If only that were half true. If it were, I wouldn’t be here.

LINDA. Where would you be?

JUDY. I’d be on the outskirts of Tulsa by now.

LINDA. You want to move to Tulsa?

JUDY. No. Grand Island has always been my home. But once in a while I get a desire to go someplace new.

LINDA. So do I. Albert said I had gypsy blood in me. I get restless.

JUDY. I know what you mean. It’s not that Grand Island is a bad place to be—

LINDA. It seems like a nice enough place.

JUDY. Oh, it is. But — well, I met a man a week ago.

LINDA. A man from Tulsa?

JUDY. No, but he was heading in that direction. He was passing through.

LINDA. Why didn’t you go with him?

JUDY. He asked me to. I should’ve said yes. I don’t want my decision to become a regret. But I think it already has.

LINDA. Maybe he’ll come back.

JUDY. Maybe… I guess I’ve grown so accustomed to taking care of my father. He needs me. That’s why I decided to stay behind.

LINDA. Is he crippled?

JUDY. No. But he can’t get by on his own.

LINDA. I used to think the same thing about myself. But I’d rather be caught in a storm than to live underneath my father’s thumb. I don’t care what I have to do, I’m not going back there. I won’t raise my baby in that house, that town.

JUDY. Hell’s backyard is no place for a baby.

LINDA. And maybe Grand Island isn’t the right place for you.

JUDY. I lay awake at night thinking about him. I know that sounds crazy, but I can’t get that man off my mind. I hear his voice while I’m folding the laundry or while I’m making dinner. I stand at the sink, washing dishes and all I can think about is the touch of his hand on the back of my neck. (Amused:) I’ve cracked three glasses and chipped two plates in only seven days. I’m so turned around, I can barely remember my own name. I keep my eyes on the road, waiting for him to appear. Waiting for him to come back for me and take me away from all of this. I sit in that house, day after day and night after night and I am surrounded by memories of my mother. She was a wild woman. She ran off and ended up in the trunk of a car, covered in gasoline and her mouth stuffed with dirty rags, choking the life out of her. She was never a good mother. I don’t think she really liked us much. I think we were always in her way. Like we were a burden. People have never paid me much attention before. They see right through me. But he didn’t. He liked me and it made me feel something inside. I’m lonely and I think I’ve been lonely for a long time. But it wasn’t until I met him that I realized how much the loneliness was killing me. (Beat.) God, I want to be married, Linda. I want to have a house of my own with nice wallpaper and clean carpet. (Beat.) I want children.

LINDA. I wish you were my mother.

JUDY. (After a moment:) Maybe I could be.

LUCILLE. (She enters from the main entrance, wet from the rain. LUCILLE is a woman in her sixties, flamboyant and odd. Her fascination with aliens has invaded her wardrobe, as she resembles a walking science project, complete with a rocket-like backpack. She is a conversation piece and she thrives on this, relishes in the attention.) This is different than I thought it would be. This is where she was killed?

JUDY. Lucille—

LUCILLE. Was this where it happened, Judy? Answer me.

JUDY. Right here. In front of God and everyone. I’m so sorry—

LUCILLE. I was expecting something else. I thought there would be blood and yellow police tape and chalk lines where her body was. (Beat.) Where’s the FBI? Didn’t anyone collect the evidence? I thought it would be like Law and Order. (To Linda because she’s there:) I like that program.

JUDY. The sheriff was here for an hour. And the coroner.

LUCILLE. I’ve already been there. I took one look at her and said, “Well, she looks a little swollen, but that’s her. That’s my ungrateful granddaughter.”

JUDY. (Unsure how to react:) You must be torn apart right now.

LUCILLE. It’s a very sad situation, but let’s be honest. (A secret:) No one exactly liked her. I knew she’d fall into an early grave.

JUDY. Lucille, you’re upset right now. You don’t understand what you’re saying.

LUCILLE. You’re expecting me to cry? I’ve already been through this before. I’ve lost two husbands — one to cancer and one to Vietnam. My son has been arrested twice. My daughter left town with her head hung low and her bra tucked in her purse. I’ve known grief in my lifetime, Judy, but this ain’t it. Rosie chose her own path. The minute she got mixed up with that man, she was sealing her fate. Her mother at least did the right thing and left town before this place killed her. Rosie might’ve been my only grandchild, but she was never my pride and joy. She lived with me for free, ate my food, slept in my house, wore me out with her constant complaining. There was no love lost between us. She was a very angry girl. She hated the world.

JUDY. Well, if there’s anything I can do—

LUCILLE. Thank you, Judy. I appreciate that. I’ll be boxing up her things this weekend. Come by and pick them up. Give ‘em to the church if you want. I got no use for ‘em.

JUDY. The church will gladly accept your donation.

LUCILLE. Well, they should. They’ve been cashing my checks for thirty-two years.

JUDY. You give money to the church?

LUCILLE. I don’t have to spend time in that place to talk to God. I can do that at home without all of those eyes staring at me and those mouths whispering about me when I walk by. (Again, to Linda:) This whole town thinks I’m crazy.

JUDY. We didn’t know where you were. When the sheriff was here, he said they couldn’t find you.

LUCILLE. (Excited:) I was out in the fields. There was a sighting in Kearney two nights ago. It shouldn’t be long, Judy. They know I’m ready to go.

LINDA. Go where?

LUCILLE. You’re not from Grand Island, are you?

LINDA. No, ma’am. I’m from Harmonville.

LUCILLE. A place the pioneers should’ve destroyed.

JUDY. This is Linda. She’s—

LUCILLE. About eight months pregnant.

LINDA. Seven and a half.

LUCILLE. And either homeless or single or both. Your folks turn their backs on you?

JUDY. I don’t think Linda’s relations are of our concern.

LINDA. My boyfriend Alfred was mean to me. I left him at a gas station and I came here.

LUCILLE. You should have waited for another hundred miles. This place is better seen through a passing window.

JUDY. Then why have you stayed so many years?

LUCILLE. My house is paid for. Besides, this is alien country.

LINDA. (Terrified:) Alien?

LUCILLE. You ever see Close Encounters of the Third Kind?

LINDA. No, ma’am.

LUCILLE. What about ET?

LINDA. I don’t think so.

LUCILLE. I made Rosie watch ET about thirty times. She hated that movie. She said he looked like a pork roast. I didn’t really care for it much — it wasn’t very genuine. But the more she hated it, the more I wanted to watch it. You see, little Linda, I believe that life exists on other planets. I don’t mean places like Mars or Jupiter or Saturn. I’m talking about undiscovered territory. The wild west of the Milky Way. There’s another world out there — probably tens of thousands of them. A form of life with higher intelligence — intelligence we idiot humans couldn’t even begin to understand. A few years ago, I was planting marigolds around midnight — about two dozen seeds. I had insomnia and my rheumatism was in remission. I was wide awake and feeling spry. My hands were in the dirt and I heard a noise. It was like a soft whistle, a teakettle. So I looked up to the sky and I saw the most beautiful lights. They were shiny silver and purple and they glowed and the sky above my house lit up and I was blinded for a second, from the brightness and the beauty. And this sudden sense of calmness just crept over me like a warm bath. I can’t even describe it to you in words but I know what I saw. It took my breath away. I know it was not of this world. They were trying to communicate with me, making these gentle whistling sounds like a thousand lullabies. It was a symphony of sorts. Like the voices of angels. At first, I thought maybe I was dying and I was about to meet my maker. But I felt safe. I felt alive. So, I whistled back, just gently at first and then with more force. And the lights got brighter and the sounds got sweeter and it overwhelmed me. I blacked out and the next thing I remember is waking up with marigolds all around me, in full bloom.

JUDY. Do you think they’re really coming back for you, Lucille?

LUCILLE. People do come back, Judy. And before I tell you something, I want you to realize that this is our good bye. You and I have been friends for many years. I’ve watched you break your back for that father of yours while he filled his liver with bourbon and whiskey down at Clyde’s.

JUDY. (Defeated:) Southern Comfort.

LUCILLE. When you leave this place, make sure you tell others my story. It won’t be long before I’m gone, too.

JUDY. What are you talking about? I’m not going anywhere.

LUCILLE. (Beat.) There’s a man outside. He’s waiting for you in the parking lot and he’s got five hundred miles of bad road in his eyes but forever in his smile. He asked me to come in and tell you that Tulsa is waitin’ for you.

JUDY. (She rushes to the main entrance and looks out to the parking lot.) He came back.

LUCILLE. In your heart, you knew he would.

JUDY. No. No, I doubted it.

LUCILLE. Go, Judy. Before you give it a second thought. Don’t stop by the house and get your things. Don’t tuck your father into bed. You walk out this door, get in that big rig and don’t ever look back.

JUDY. I want to go, Lucille. God forgive me, but I do.

LUCILLE. So did Rosie.

JUDY. (She goes to Linda.) I won’t leave you here.

LINDA. You don’t even know me.

JUDY. Yes, I do. And I would never forgive myself if I left you in Grand Island.

LINDA. I don’t want to be the death of anyone. I don’t want to hold you back.

JUDY. That will never happen to me again. (Beat.) Come on. Let’s get your things. It’ll be warmer in Oklahoma. I promise. I’ll buy you a new pair of shoes.

LINDA. (Beat.) I don’t know how to thank you.

JUDY. (Linda hugs Judy.) Remember what your Aunt Ruth said? We have to take care of each other, Linda. We really do. (They start towards the door. Judy stops, as she contemplates embracing Lucille.)

LUCILLE. Don’t say good bye to me, Judy. Just keep walking. (After a moment, Judy and Linda exit. Lucille sits down and takes out a hand held video game from her back pack.)

RICARDO. (He enters from the kitchen, with his duffle bag.) Lucille?

LUCILLE. You’re too late, Ricardo. The bus pulled out five minutes ago.

RICARDO. How did you know?

LUCILLE. I saw him at the bus station on my way over here. He was sitting on the bench, shivering. I bought him a cup of hot chocolate and he bared his soul to me. (Beat.) The ten-thirty bus to California is long gone.

RICARDO. (To himself:) What have I done?

LUCILLE. You’ve brought that boy the only sense of love he’s ever known.

RICARDO. Does he know about Britney?

LUCILLE. He knows. I told him so.

RICARDO. Did he cry?

LUCILLE. That’s something he does often. It might be the only thing he knows how to do.

RICARDO. I don’t like it when he cries. What did you tell him?

LUCILLE. That my granddaughter had been killed because she let her own greed impair her judgment. I told him Britney was the one who killed her. I told him his sister tried to do the right thing by going back to the store and putting the money back she stole. There was only one shot and it took her life and within seconds, she was gone. (Beat.) And I told him that if I knew you the way I thought I did, you’d be there with him by the time the bus left. (Beat.) I guess I was wrong.

RICARDO. You weren’t wrong.

LUCILLE. Then why are you still here?

RICARDO. My sister.

LUCILLE. What about her? She’s a vegetable.

RICARDO. (Beat.) It was me, Lucille. I was the one driving the car. I wasn’t paying attention and I yelled at her and we hit the other car head on and her body…it just flew. She went through the windshield and there wasn’t enough time. (Beat.) It was my fault. If I leave now -

LUCILLE. Spend the rest of your life here paying for one mistake. Makes no difference to me.

RICARDO. My sister will never be the same.

LUCILLE. (Firm:) She won’t even know you’re gone, Ricardo.

RICARDO. Rosie’s gone.

LUCILLE. You see anyone crying over it?

RICARDO. She said she had big plans.

LUCILLE. Looks like they backfired.

RICARDO. I don’t know what to do with it all, with what I’m feeling right now. Rosie and I used to be friends. We knew each other better than anyone. We spent so much time here, talking and dreaming and wanting everything to make sense. I don’t want her to be dead, Lucille. And I know everyone will be talking about it for weeks. But then, they’ll forget about it and they’ll find new things to talk about and Rosie will be nothing but a news clipping. (Beat.) I hate that.

LUCILLE. Rosie was filled with so much rage. She never knew her father. Her mother took off when she was twelve. She had a lot to be angry about. But that anger is what took her away.

RICARDO. It happened right here. Two hours ago. But it feels like so much time has passed. I don’t even want to be here. I hope Kimberly shows up soon.

LUCILLE. You might not ever figure out where you want to be, but you need to decide who you want to be with.

RICARDO. Sometimes, I just want to be alone.

LUCILLE. What about the other times? Is it him?

RICARDO. I think about him. I know he needs me. There’s no one else to protect him.

LUCILLE. But who’s going to protect you?

RICARDO. No one ever has. (He starts towards the kitchen.)

LUCILLE. Where are you going?

RICARDO. I need to get some sugar packets. He likes ‘em.

LUCILLE. I went to the coroner’s office, Ricardo. They showed me her body and they gave me her purse. This is what I found inside of it. (She pulls out two bus tickets from her own purse.) Two one-way tickets to Miami. (Beat.) The ten-thirty to California is already gone but there’s still time to catch the midnight bus to Miami. I’ll leave these here for you. When you decide. Since Rosie didn’t make it out, I hope you do. (Beat.) I hope both of us do.

RICARDO. I don’t understand it, the need to go somewhere else to start a new life.

LUCILLE. For some people, it’s the answer to all their problems.

RICARDO. Geography won’t change anything.

LUCILLE. No, but fate will.

RICARDO. (Contemplating:) The midnight bus to Miami.

LUCILLE. When you get there, plant some marigolds for me.

RICARDO. And roses for Rosie?

LUCILLE. Daffodils. They were her favorite.

RICARDO. Mine, too. (He exits.)

(Lucille sits down at the counter and places the bus tickets next to the telephone. Once again, she returns to her hand held video game. A few moments pass and then a small flickering is seen in the main entrance, as if car lights were shining inside from the parking lot. The flickering suddenly becomes a constant strobe of light, green and intense. It is not clear if this moment is reality or we are deep inside of Lucille’s imagination. She stands slowly, invited by the light. She opens the door and steps outside, disappearing into the night.

Lights fade to black.)

ACT TWO: SCENE TWO

(When the lights come up, the stage is empty. Twenty minutes have passed. The radio is on.)

RADIO ANNOUNCER. Well, folks, the rain has stopped but they’ve closed the interstate. Should be open again by midnight. I’d say the worst of it is over. Then again, my mother always told me you can never be too careful. If you’re in doubt, take an umbrella with you. You never know when you might need it, what you might get caught in.

(Within seconds, a bride-to-be named CANDACE tears into the diner. She is in her late twenties and is wearing an extravagant wedding dress, complete with veil. She is attractive, sophisticated.

Behind her follows MAXINE, Candace’s seemingly devoted best friend. She is also in her late twenties and is wearing a hideous dress. She is slightly overweight.)

CANDACE. Whose stupid idea was this?

MAXINE. Actually, it was yours. (Candace shoots her a look. Reassuring:) But it was a good one.

CANDACE. Someone should have intervened. Where were you when I needed you, Maxine? A midnight wedding in Omaha? Of all the people in the world, I have to marry a man from Nebraska. I’m skipping the honeymoon. Peter can go by himself. (Aside:) He always does it by himself, anyway. (To Maxine:) You and I are on the first plane back to Chicago tomorrow morning.

MAXINE. Candace, you need to calm down.

CANDACE. (Feigning sweetness:) Can I please have a cigarette? Pretty please?

MAXINE. You’ve been doing so good. Why do you want to ruin it?

CANDACE. (Close to whining:) Because I’m stuck in the middle of nowhere. This town smells like horse shit. Does this look like a resort to you? They probably still hang people here, Maxine. I’m supposed to be getting married in an hour and the roads are closed and the limo driver called me a bitch. There isn’t a drop of rain in sight. I paid a fortune for this dress. I’m not letting my money go to waste.

MAXINE. Maybe we should call the hotel in Omaha. We should let Peter know what’s happening.

CANDACE. I can’t. I don’t have his new cell phone number.

MAXINE. That’s okay. I have it.

RICARDO. (Enters from the kitchen. Bitter:) Can I help you?

CANDACE. Are you normally this happy to see people?

RICARDO. I’m sorry. I thought you were Kimberly. She’s late.

CANDACE. I’m Candace.

MAXINE. Can I use your phone? It’s sort of an emergency.

CANDACE. I’m supposed to be getting married in an hour. In Omaha. I’m a desperate woman in an expensive dress. Don’t look at me like that. No sane woman would be in her dress before her wedding. I’ve been wearing this thing for six hours. I didn’t have a choice, all right?

RICARDO. It’s kind of late for a wedding, don’t you think?

CANDACE. It was my lame ass idea. A poolside midnight ceremony with candles and cucumber sandwiches and white carnations. It was supposed to be innovative and chic. None of those little cocktail weenies. Now it sounds like the most ridiculous idea I’ve ever heard of.

RICARDO. (To Maxine:) You said you needed to make a call?

MAXINE. Thanks. (She picks up the phone and dials:) Peter? It’s Maxine. (Beat.) No. We’re stuck because of the storm. We’re in some little town. Hold on a sec’ — (To Ricardo:) Where exactly are we?

RICARDO. Grand Island.

MAXINE. (Into the phone.) Grand Island. (Maxine’s conversation continues through the dialogue that follows; they happen simultaneously.) I didn’t realize that. (Beat.) Peter, don’t say that. We had to land in Topeka because they wouldn’t let us land in Omaha. Then the limo driver took a wrong turn and got lost. (Beat.) I have no idea. I haven’t seen any rain since we got to this God awful place. (Beat.) Peter, please don’t do that. Don’t be stupid. (Beat.) Look, I can’t talk about that right now. I will see what I can do, all right? (She hangs up.)

CANDACE. Who’s Kimberly?

RICARDO. A girl who works here. I need to go.

CANDACE. Don’t we all. (Low whisper:) Do you have a cigarette, by any chance?

RICARDO. I don’t smoke.

CANDACE. Yeah, neither do I. I was just curious if you did. (Beat.) Got any chocolate?

RICARDO. Maybe some ice cream in the back. Not sure.

CANDACE. (Desperate:) Find an excuse and I’ll go to the kitchen with you. Keep it on the down low.

RICARDO. You’re not allowed to have chocolate?

CANDACE. My husband-to-be put me on a strict diet.

MAXINE. (Joining their conversation as she has just finished her phone call:) Don’t give her any cigarettes, booze, or food with a lot of carbs in it. She’ll go on a binge.

RICARDO. What’s the point of living?

CANDACE. Exactly! You see, Maxine. Even this stranger thinks it’s absurd. (Waits for an explanation from Maxine; exasperated:) What did the groom say?

MAXINE. The groom said that even if they open up the roads, you’ll never make it to Omaha on time.

CANDACE. (Anxious:) What are you telling me?

MAXINE. You might be serving brunch at your wedding. Tomorrow morning.

CANDACE. I’m having a nervous breakdown.

MAXINE. Peter said not to worry about anything. He said to get a hotel room and wait until the storm passes.

CANDACE. What do I do about the limo driver? He’s charging me by the second. (Low whisper; more whining, lip-quivering self-pity:) And he hates me, Maxine.

MAXINE. I don’t know. Tell him he’s fired. He’s the one who got us lost.

CANDACE. What am I supposed to do in the morning, pull up to my wedding in a covered wagon? How did I get stuck in this place? Have you any idea how much this wedding costs? Jesus and Mary, mother of God, will someone find me a cigarette?! I am having violent impulses!

RICARDO. Then you’ll be right at home here.

CANDACE. Maxine, think of something.

MAXINE. There’s nothing we can do, Candace.

CANDACE. (Directed mostly at Ricardo:) Do you know what kind of a day I’ve had? I woke up late. My cat puked all over my shoes. My roommate decided to bring a criminal home with her last night and the guy stole her virginity (Beat.) and my laptop. The landlord forgot to inform me that they were shutting off the water in my building to do some repair work. So, I had to boil bottles of Aquafina and wash my hair in the sink. A necklace my grandmother gave me fell down the drain and is probably lying at the bottom of Lake Michigan right now. I decided to try my wedding dress on to make sure all of the alterations had been done properly. I went downstairs to ask my dope-dealing neighbor for her opinion and I got locked out of my apartment. Not one single stingy person would loan me a change of clothes or a cell phone, so I took the “L” train to Maxine’s house — in my wedding dress and my cat-puke-covered-satin-pumps. Of course Maxine had nothing in my size and for once in my life, there was no time to go shopping. So I had to spend half the day looking like Glenda the Good Witch. I didn’t get a manicure so my hands look like I’ve been clawing my way out of Attica. My hair feels like Crisco because my hairdresser decided to try a new product on me and I swear to you, it smells like furniture polish. We missed the plane from Chicago and once we finally got on a plane, they rerouted us to Topeka because of some storm but I don’t see any rain, do you?! My own mother is refusing to talk to me because I wouldn’t allow my slutty sister to be in my wedding. My father has been missing for three days and we suspect he’s joined a religious cult in Arkansas. My fiancé thinks I’m a fat cow, an alcoholic, a drug addict and a chain smoker. And right now, all I want to do is be un-conscious!

RICARDO. (After a beat:) I can top that.

CANDACE. (Accepting the challenge:) Go for it.

RICARDO. My co-worker was murdered here tonight. (Beat.) She was stabbed to death right there. Although I never told her so, she was the only woman I would’ve married. No one seems to care she’s gone, except for me. To most people she was a cold-hearted bitch (Beat.) and she was. She was just as screwed up as I am and that’s why I liked her. The woman who killed her — she was shot to death in front of the grocery store she worked in, trying to break in to return money she’d stolen. The whole thing happened over a man who is long gone and will probably never be heard from again. My sister is a vegetable, living on machines in a hospital my family can’t afford to keep her in. It’s my fault because I was driving the car and I took my eyes off of the road to tell her she was stupid and she flew, head first through the windshield. My best friend is waiting for me down at the bus station and he’s probably on the brink of suicide right now, because I was supposed to be there over a half an hour ago. I chickened out and I hate myself for it. He’s in love with me and I’m scared if I love him back, that will make me less of a man. (Beat.) I hope you’ll forgive me, princess…because frankly, my dear, I don’t give a fuck. (He exits to the kitchen.)

CANDACE. (After a beat:) My God, Maxine, what have you gotten us into?

MAXINE. Me? What did I do?

CANDACE. You were supposed to help me with my wedding. Everything is ruined.

MAXINE. And it’s my fault?

CANDACE. Why else would I be standing at the scene of a crime? You’re always getting us into these situations. Ever since we were little. Did you hear that guy? Someone was killed here.

MAXINE. (Angry:) Yeah, I heard him.

CANDACE. And that doesn’t freak you out in the least bit?

MAXINE. Normally, I would be. But after the day I’ve had.

CANDACE. You’re not the one getting married.

MAXINE. (Hostile:) That’s right, Candace. I’m not.

CANDACE. You know what Peter is like. He’ll blame all of this on me.

MAXINE. What are you going to do?

CANDACE. I’ll tell him the truth. I’ll tell him it was your fault. You’re the one who forgot to call me this morning and wake me up.

MAXINE. I forgot to set my alarm.

CANDACE. Why were you up so late? I mean, the night before such an important day like this.

MAXINE. I was studying. I have finals next week.

CANDACE. When is this school thing of yours going to be over?

MAXINE. I graduate in June. Remember? I’m thinking about grad school.

CANDACE. Why bother? I’m so glad I’m getting married. I hate school.

MAXINE. Is that why you’re getting married?

CANDACE. What’s that supposed to mean?

MAXINE. You had straight A’s since the first grade. And you never even studied.

CANDACE. Teachers have always liked me, Maxine.

MAXINE. Yeah, but I’ve had to study my ass off.

CANDACE. Well, for a girl like you, education is probably the best choice.

MAXINE. (After a beat:) What do you mean, a girl like me?

CANDACE. You’ve never really been into guys very much.

MAXINE. Don’t you mean guys have never really been into me? Go on, Candace, say it.

CANDACE. Say what? Jesus, Maxine, I’m tired.

MAXINE. So am I. I’m tired of being your scapegoat.

CANDACE. Can we talk about this later? You need to find us a place to stay tonight.

MAXINE. Find your own place. I’m out of here.

CANDACE. Have you lost your mind?! You’re going to leave me here?

MAXINE. I don’t care if I have to hitchhike. I don’t care if I have to go down on the limo driver to bum a ride to a motel. As long as I can get away from you. Girls like me. You really are something, Candace. I bust my ass for you, day after day, year after year and you are so inconsiderate. You know something? The limo driver was right. You are a bitch. And for your information, I hate this dress.

CANDACE. I have no idea where all of this hostility is coming from, but I won’t stand for it. This is still my wedding night. You’re supposed to be my best friend and all I’m getting from you is a headache.

MAXINE. It’s always about you. Well, I’m sick of it. I’ve put up with this crap from you since I was six. I won’t take it anymore.

CANDACE. Then leave! If you can’t stand by me when I need you the most, then you aren’t the person I thought you were.

MAXINE. You don’t even love him.

CANDACE. Of course I do!

MAXINE. Well, he doesn’t love you.

CANDACE. (Beat.) No, probably not. But we’re both young and successful and we want the same thing out of life.

MAXINE. And what’s that, a marriage of convenience?

CANDACE. Like you even know anything about relationships. You haven’t had a decent boyfriend since high school and even then you managed to screw things up, Little Miss Virgin.

MAXINE. And you don’t have a bone of decency in your body. I used to think so. I used to convince myself that everything really was my fault. I was a bad friend. I was a big, fat disappointment and if I didn’t get my act together, you wouldn’t be my friend anymore. Like that was some great reward. Being your friend is like living in a cold, dark place and I hate it. I’ve lived in your shadow for as long as I can remember.

CANDACE. No one forced you to. If I make you so miserable, then why did you come? Why did you agree to be my Maid of Honor?

MAXINE. Because I wanted to stop you.

CANDACE. Stop me?

MAXINE. I made sure we missed that plane, Candace. I gave the limo driver a hundred bucks to take a wrong turn. I did it on purpose.

CANDACE. Why would you do something like that? Are you jealous, is that it?

MAXINE. You’d like to think so.

CANDACE. (A realization:) You don’t want me to get married. You’re scared that if I do, I’ll forget all about you.

MAXINE. Hardly. You couldn’t forget about me, even if you tried. Every time the smallest thing goes wrong in your life, you’re on my doorstep expecting compliments and concern. I’m all out of both. I’ve got nothing left to give to you. Except the truth.

CANDACE. Why are you doing this to me? Tonight of all nights. I’m stuck in the middle of Little House on the Scary Prairie.

MAXINE. Because girls like me can only take so much.

CANDACE. Just say what you have to say. I’d like to bring this night to an end. I’d like to figure out where I’m sleeping tonight.

MAXINE. (Beat.) I slept with him.

CANDACE. Who, the limo driver?

MAXINE. No. With Peter. Your fiancé. The groom.

CANDACE. (A nervous laugh, followed by a painful moment of truth:) You did what?

MAXINE. More than once. We’ve been having sex for two months. On his lunch breaks. In his office. At my apartment. Even in your apartment when you went on that business trip to Boston and I fed your cat for you.

CANDACE. Let me guess, the two of you are madly in love.

MAXINE. Hardly. I hate the guy. He makes me sick.

CANDACE. Then why did you do it?

MAXINE. Because I could. I finally beat you at your own game. I finally won.

CANDACE. It was never a competition, Maxine.

MAXINE. Wasn’t it?

CANDACE. It doesn’t matter, anymore. The wedding is off. You’ve made your point. You can have him. I’m not going to Omaha.

MAXINE. No, you’ll go home and you’ll cry and whine to your entourage of the subservient girls in your office. They’ll feel sorry for you and shower you with sweet words and pity.

CANDACE. Maybe I’ll surprise you. Maybe I won’t go home. Maybe I’ll run away and change my name. Join the fucking circus.

MAXINE. He had second thoughts. Cold feet. He said he didn’t have the courage to face you.

CANDACE. He always was a coward. Just like you.

MAXINE. He wanted me to be the one to tell you. To break the news to you gently.

CANDACE. Consider your job done, Maxine. Mission accomplished. You’re finished. (Beat.) You can go now.

MAXINE. And leave you here all alone with nothing?

CANDACE. I’ll survive. It’s true, Maxine. I am made of plastic. (She reaches into her bra and pulls out a credit card.)

MAXINE. By the way, Peter never wanted you to go on a diet. He drinks like a fish and he smokes pot like a fiend. The diet was my idea. To torture you. To make you suffer. In fact, Peter told me he thought you were way… too…skinny. (She exits.)

RICARDO. (After a moment, he enters from the kitchen.) You still here?

CANDACE. Afraid so.

RICARDO. Where’s your friend?

CANDACE. She wasn’t my friend. She left.

RICARDO. On the TV in the kitchen, they said the roads are open again. The storm finally passed.

CANDACE. I know you don’t know me. I mean, I don’t even know your name. But it sounds like both of us have had a real bad day.

RICARDO. Friends by circumstances?

CANDACE. Bad circumstances. (Beat.) I have nowhere to go.

RICARDO. I imagine it’s the greatest feeling in the world.

CANDACE. It is. (Beat.) I’m not a very nice person.

RICARDO. Probably not.

CANDACE. I’m rude. I’m self-centered. I manipulate people. I treat people like — I’m selfish.

RICARDO. I knew a girl like that once.

CANDACE. Oh yeah? What happened to her?

RICARDO. She said she had big plans.

CANDACE. I used to.

RICARDO. Did you and your friend have a fight?

CANDACE. You could say that. She slept with my fiancé.

RICARDO. Ouch.

CANDACE. I think I deserved it.

RICARDO. Did you love him?

CANDACE. Not as much as I love her. She and I were best friends. For as long as I can remember. She’s always been there for me.

RICARDO. And now?

CANDACE. There’s no one here but you and me and you’re a complete stranger to me.

RICARDO. Maybe it’s safer that way. I’m pretty messed up right now.

CANDACE. You seem all right. (Beat.) So, do you love him?

RICARDO. Who?

CANDACE. The guy you left waiting at the bus station. Your best friend.

RICARDO. (With a shrug:) I don’t know how.

CANDACE. That’s the worst kind of love. Feeling it but not knowing how to express it. It makes you crazy.

RICARDO. Are you crazy?

CANDACE. Definitely.

RICARDO. It’s a shame we didn’t meet under better circumstances.

CANDACE. We probably would’ve been best friends.

RICARDO. What are your plans now? I’m assuming the wedding’s been called off.

CANDACE. Everything’s been cancelled. Going someplace else and starting all over seems very appealing right now. What about you?

RICARDO. Miami sounds nice.

CANDACE. It does. I’ve never been there.

RICARDO. Hey, are you allowed to eat now?

CANDACE. I’m starving. (Beat.) And I’m single. Know any cute guys?

RICARDO. Just me. (Beat.) Chocolate ice cream?

CANDACE. Do you have any whipped cream?

RICARDO. Sorry, no. Rosie liked nitrous oxide. She drained all the bottles last weekend.

CANDACE. I’ll settle for the ice cream. (He starts to exit. She stops him.) Hey. I guess Kimberly isn’t showing up.

RICARDO. No, she probably had better places to go. (Beat.) For the record?

CANDACE. Yes?

RICARDO. I do love him.

CANDACE. I know. I can tell. When you talk about him, I can see it in your eyes.

RICARDO. You don’t think it’s wrong?

CANDACE. For two people to love each other? (Ricardo nods.) Who am I to judge? (Beat.) Can you hurry with the ice cream? I think I’m due for a panic attack. (Ricardo exits. Candace sits at a table, furthest from the main entrance.)

DEREK. (He enters from the main entrance, carrying his backpack. He stops at the sight of Candace.) Wow. You look like an angel.

CANDACE. (She sees him for the first time.) That’s the nicest thing anyone has said to me all day.

DEREK. You have a pretty smile.

CANDACE. So do you.

DEREK. Is Ricardo here?

CANDACE. Who?

DEREK. You’re not from here, are you?

CANDACE. No. I’m from — I used to live in Chicago.

DEREK. Ricardo works here.

CANDACE. Oh, are you his best friend?

DEREK. Did he tell you that?

CANDACE. As a matter of fact, he did. You’ve been waiting for him at the bus station.

DEREK. What else did he tell you?

CANDACE. I shouldn’t say this, but he told me that he loves—

RICARDO. (He enters from the kitchen.) Bad news. (He notices that Derek has arrived.) We’re all out of ice cream.

DEREK. I waited for you, Ricardo. Just like I said I would.

RICARDO. Derek, I’m sorry.

DEREK. You promised me.

RICARDO. I should’ve met you at ten-thirty.

DEREK. Do you have the map?

RICARDO. It’s in my bag.

DEREK. I never thought my sister would die. I thought she would live forever.

RICARDO. The sheriff said it was only one shot.

DEREK. At least it wasn’t from her own gun. She had it to protect herself but she won’t need anything to protect her now.

RICARDO. Neither will my sister, Derek. I said good bye to her tonight.

DEREK. The bus came and went, Ricardo. We’re still here. You changed your mind because you don’t love me.

RICARDO. That isn’t true.

DEREK. I waited for you for so long. (Beat.) I’m cold.

RICARDO. Let me get you my jacket. (He starts towards the kitchen.)

DEREK. (He opens his backpack and pulls out a handgun. He moves towards the door to the restroom.) Don’t worry about it, Ricardo. I won’t be needing nothing else from you. (Quick beat.) I love you.

(Derek moves to enter the bathroom, but Candace tries to intervene by blocking his path. Derek shoves her out of the way and she falls to the floor. She scrambles to catch him, reaching for his pant leg and screaming for Ricardo to help her. Derek slips into the bathroom and locks the door.)

RICARDO. (He rushes to the bathroom door. Candace crawls to get out of his way. Ricardo tries desperately to get the door open.) Derek. Derek, open the door.

CANDACE. Derek, please! (To Ricardo:) He has a gun.

RICARDO. Derek, listen to me. Are you listening? I love you. I love you so much. I’m sorry I didn’t meet you. I got scared. Sometimes it makes me crazy. It makes me feel bad because I don’t know what to do with it all. Please, Derek. Let’s go. We can go right now.

CANDACE. (She goes to the counter for the telephone. As she picks up the phone, she knocks over a container of sugar packets and they spill down the front of her dress and on the floor around her. She starts to dial the phone, frantically.) Keep talking to him. I’m getting help. (Into the phone:) Hello? Hello, is anybody there?!

RICARDO. (Terrified:) Derek, open this fucking door right now! Do you hear me?! We’re getting out of here tonight and we are never coming back. I swear to you, we are leaving. We’re going to Miami at midnight. (From inside of the bathroom, a single gunshot is heard and the noise echoes through the diner, piercing the air. Horrified, Candace drops the phone and begins to cry. Ricardo is overwhelmed with emotion.) We’re going to Miami!

(Ricardo stays at the door for a moment. Finally, he moves away from it slowly. He turns to Candace, who is motionless behind the counter. As Ricardo kneels to the floor, Candace discovers the bus tickets to Miami on the counter. She picks them up and holds them tightly. She rushes to Ricardo, kneeling beside him. Sobbing, Ricardo moves to her. She wraps her arms around him and holds him, cradling him while he weeps. She glances nervously at the door to the restroom, looks down at Ricardo, at the bus tickets and then towards the main entrance of the diner.

Lights slowly fade to black.)

ABOUT THE PLAYWRIGHT

David-Matthew Barnes is the bestselling author of ten novels, including the young adult novels Fifty Yards and Holding, The Marijuana Mermaids, Mesmerized, Swimming to Chicago, and Wonderland. He is also the author of Boys Like Me, a collection of short stories, and Roadside Attractions and Souvenir Boys, two collections of poetry. He has written over forty stage plays that have been performed in three languages in eight countries. He is the writer and director of the feature film Frozen Stars and the dramatic short film Threnody. His literary work has been featured in over one hundred publications including The Best Stage Scenes, The Best Men’s Stage Monologues, The Best Women’s Stage Monologues, The Comstock Review, and The Southeast Review. He earned a Master of Fine Arts degree in Creative Writing at Queens University of Charlotte in North Carolina. For more information, please visit www.davidmatthewbarnes.com.

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Copyright

Better Places to Go (1st ed. — 11.18.13)

Copyright © 2013 by David-Matthew Barnes

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

All rights reserved. This stage play is fully protected under the copyright laws of the United States of America. No part of this script may be reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

This stage play may include references to brand names and trademarks owned by third parties, and may include references to public figures. The author is not necessarily affiliated with these public figures, or with the owners of such trademarks and brand names. Such references are included solely for parody, political comment, or other permitted purposes.

Editor: Monica Augustine

Cover Design by James, GoOnWrite.com

Publisher: Pinwheel Plays

Content

BETTER PLACES TO GO
A Stage Play by David-Matthew Barnes

Cast of Characters

Acknowledgements

ACT ONE: SCENE ONE

ACT ONE: SCENE TWO

ACT TWO: SCENE ONE

ACT TWO: SCENE TWO

ABOUT THE PLAYWRIGHT

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Copyright