In the business, theaters always like to have an evening of connected one-acts with a certain theme. For American Road, I went a bit further and had the central characters "in crisis on the road" intersect in the final scene which leaves us with hope for their futures. Here it is! Next week, some comic relief as I will begin with WHAT IS ART?, a farce.
American Road
A snack bar in the Memphis Airport. Joe, wearing a suit and looking
uncomfortable and awkward in it, sits at a table. He is perspiring heavily. A
piece of his art, wrapped in a canvas tarp, leans against it.
Tim sits at the next table, studying a two page script, mouthing lines. Joe
stares at something which would be located just above the audience’s head. Tim
will glance up at now and then.
Dick enters, head phones on, carrying a Sony Walkman, some papers (the
letters) and a large carry on. He is apparently having trouble getting the
Walkman to work.
DICK
(mutters)
Jesus....
Dick sees Joe look over at him.
DICK
(sharing
his trouble with Joe)
Goddamn
thing...
Dick is having difficulty handling everything while standing up, nods
toward the vacant seat at Joe’s table.
DICK
Do
you mind?
Joe is broken from his thoughts, a bit disoriented.
JOE
Oh,
uh... no.
Dick sits, sets down his bag, the letters, puts headphones around his neck,
sets down Walkman and pulls out a
pack of smokes and prepares to light up.
P.A.
ANNOUNCER
Memphis
International Airport is
a
smoke free facility. Please refrain
from
smoking, except in designated areas.
DICK
Is
this a designated area?
Joe shrugs. Dick turns to ask Tim.
DICK
Excu--
Jesus!
A pain shoots through Dick’s back, he grunts and grimaces.
TIM
You
okay?
Dick reaches behind to rub his upper back.
DICK
I’ve
pulled a muscle or something.
TIM
I
think you have to go to the bar.
(Dick
looks confused)
To
smoke.
DICK
The
bar? Oh... Better not.
Dick puts away cigarettes and takes some papers from the side pocket of his
carry on. He separates the papers-- four pages in one hand, and a single page
in the other, and looks at each, weighing them in his mind. Shaking his head to
himself, he puts the papers down and allows his attention to be caught by
whatever Joe is staring at.
DICK
So
who’s winning?
JOE
Winning?
Oh, uhm...
(shrugs)
TIM
The
Ravens.
DICK
The
Ravens is a team?
TIM
Used
to be the Cleveland Browns.
DICK
Jesus, first is was the Colts, then
the
Cardinals.
TIM
The
Rams.
DICK
Where
do you hang your hat anymore?
(turns
to Joe)
You
know?
JOE
(smiles
politely)
Yes,
sir.
DICK
(to
Joe)
Did
you pull an O.J.?
(Joe
looks unsure)
I
mean the commercials,
where
he’s running through the airport,
jumping
things....
(aside)
Jesus--
(back
to Joe)
Jumping
over things. You’re sweating is what I’m saying.
JOE
Oh,
yeah. No, I just perspire.
Joe pulls a handkerchief out and mops his face and brow.
DICK
Where
are you headed?
Joe grows anxious again.
JOE
New
York.
DICK
Me,
too. Buffalo. You live in New York?
JOE
No,
here.
DICK
Business?
JOE
T.V.
show. I’m--....
They
gonna interview me.
This gets Tim’s attention.
DICK
Oh,
hey, that’s nice!
JOE
(embarrassed)
I
do art.
DICK
Oh.
Is this yours?
JOE
Uh-huh.
Dick tries to look as if curious. Joe uncovers it for him-- it is the
“He-She” painting.
JOE
They
call it “outsider” art.
DICK
(trying)
Ohh,
hey!.... That’s something....
Good.
Wow.
Tim is also looking, and really does have a strong reaction. Joe recovers
the art work.
DICK
Are
you excited?
JOE
Oh,
yeah.
But Joe sure doesn’t look excited. Dick turns to to Tim.
DICK
What
about you--?
(more
pain)
TIM
Los
Angeles.
DICK
Oh,
Christ! You can have it.
TIM
You’re
about the tenth person--
DICK
Believe
‘em. My daughter lives there.
I
was there last night. Worst concert the Dead
ever
did. I hated it.
TIM
Yeah.
No one likes L.A.,
but
eight million people live there.
DICK
Well,
I won’t be back.
TIM
You
like Buffalo better?
DICK
How
can you like Buffalo?
TIM
(smiles)
I
figure when it’s my time, I’ll
retire
to Florida.
DICK
Oh,
yeah? God, Jerry played the O-rena.
Orlando,
it goes on forever for
no
reason..
(Tim
laughs)
I
kid you not, two hours fifteen
minutes
I drove in a straight line
without
losing sight of a strip mall.
Dick laughs and then coughs, which aggravates his back. He reaches back to
rub it.
DICK
Jesus,
that flight from LAX.
(smacks
Walkman lightly)
This
thing went ker-flooey. I’ve
had
nothing.
TIM
Probably
the batteries.
DICK
The
batteries aren’t that old, it just
stopped
working. I drug six Dead CD’s
across
the country for nothing.
Dick turns his upper body from side to side, trying to alleviate the pain.
TIM
You
hurt your back?
DICK
Yeah.
TIM
My
Dad had a bad back.
I
know how much--
DICK
It’s
just a knot, but it’s right where I
can’t
reach it.
TIM
You
need someone to--?
Dick isn’t clear. Tim illustrates “massage”.
DICK
You’re
a massusse?
TIM
I’m
an actor. But in the theater dorm,
you
didn’t get laid if you couldn’t
give
a good...
DICK
I
think I’m okay for now. Thanks.
TIM
Sure....
I’m auditioning for a pilot.
DICK
(tries
to hide concern)
They
do that, with these
big
planes?
TIM
A
pilot for a series. In L.A.
It’s
a cop role.
DICK
Oh,
right. A movie.
TIM
The
principle at Deana’s school-- this
teacher
in Maine-- had a brother who’s a T.V. producer.
I
mean, “the strangest places”.
DICK
Yeah,
Maine is strange. It’s like they’re
still
waiting for Paul Revere to ride through
and
tell ‘em what’s going on.
TIM
No,
I mean, that this first grade teacher
would
be my connection to Hollywood.
DICK
That’s
strange, too. Alright, I’m gonna
have
to ask ya. This is just killing me,
I
can’t take a two hour plane flight
in
coach.
TIM
Oh,
yeah, sure.
Tim pulls a chair up behind Dick’s and begins massaging Dick’s neck.
DICK
Now,
if a girl shows up, stop.
TIM
(smiles)
Gotcha...
Here?
DICK
Lower.
Tim moves to the area between Dick’s shoulder blades. Dick looks over his
letters, one page in one hand, four in the other.
DICK
(referring
to letter)
Jesus.
(to
Tim)
Hey,
do you get along with your parents?
TIM
Yeah.
DICK
Really?
TIM
I’ve
seen them once in two years.
DICK
Oh.
I hear ya... I wrote this letter
on
the plane-- two, really-- to
my
daughter. We’ve been, uhm--...
(makes
“waivering” gesture)
So
anyway, this one is pretty much
an
apology for--... Well, it’s four pages long. Okay?
TIM
Okay.
DICK
This
one is not so apologetic...
It’s
shorter. More critical.
TIM
It’s
a “fuck you” letter.
DICK
Yes.
JOE
What
you looking for?
DICK
What?
JOE
From
your daughter.
DICK
(beat)
Just
so she understands things.
JOE
Well,
you write both... Maybe you
should
send both.
DICK
Hm.
Ah, Christ, I’ll figure it out
when
I get back to Buffalo.
JOE
Oh,
yeah.... You been to New York City before?
DICK/TIM
Some/Yeah,
six years.
TIM
Have
you?
JOE
Oh,
no. I’m just wondering what it
might
be like. I been all my life
in
Memphis.
DICK
My
mother’s family’s from here.
Near
here. Dyersburg.
JOE
Oh,
yeah. I been there.
DICK
Not
me.
TIM
That
the spot?
DICK
Yes.
Deeper, though.
TIM
Are
you gonna see some shows on Broadway?
JOE
(an
anxiety raising thought)
Oh,
no. No, I think I’m just gonna go up and
come
back.
TIM
You’re
going all that way just for this
interview?
JOE
Hm,
I have a check to pick up, too.
TIM
They
can’t mail it to you?
JOE
Mr.
Hyram, my attorney, say it’s too big to mail.
DICK
Too
big? How big could it be?
JOE
It’s
big.
DICK
How
big?
JOE
Big.
DICK
(shrugs,
a bit put off)
Okay.
JOE
Three
hundred twenty-four thousand,
four
hundred seven dollars.
DICK
Oh.
JOE
(checks
a note)
And
seventeen cents.
TIM
Man.
DICK
Hey,
a New York artist and Hollywood movie star.
I
feel priveleged.
JOE
Oh,
no.
TIM
I’m
just auditioning.... And seeing my wife.
She’s
been stage managing a long running
show
out there.
DICK
(twists
to look at Tim)
Oh!
A happy reunion.
TIM
Something’s
going to happen.
One
way or the other.
DICK
I
hear ya... Well, not that it’s my business,
but...
Don’t let it slide. You know what I mean?
TIM
(earnest)
Oh,
yeah. I’ve become an expert slider.
Dick turns back, looks at his letters again.
DICK
One
thing I’ve learned-- the important things--
you
don’t let ‘em slide.
TIM
Yep.
DICK
Eh,
the Hell with it, I probably shouldn’t
send
either
of these.
(to
Joe)
You
know? I got it off my chest,
is
what matters. This would just upset her.
JOE
Father
and daughter, I think you both know what
the
other has to say by now.
DICK
Exactly.
JOE
But
that ain’t no use. She gotta hear
you
say it.
DICK
(not
what he was hoping for)
Oh.
Uh-huh....
(takes
a breath)
Huh...
TIM
I’m
not really feeling a knot.
You
sure it’s muscular?
DICK
Maybe
it’s a pinched nerve.
JOE
(reaches
for his bag)
I
got linament I put on my
shoulder.
DICK
(embarassed)
Oh,
no, no, no.
JOE
I
tell ya, it’s good. I get tight when I work.
DICK
No,
no, this has been going on--
I
don’t think it’ll help.
JOE
Pull
the soreness right out for me.
(illustrates)
When
I paint...
DICK
Once
I’m home, I’m okay.
There’s
certain ways I can
lie
down.
JOE
Oh,
uh-huh. So you wanna try it?
DICK
(pause)
Please.
Joe starts applying the linament to Dick’s back under his shirt.
DICK
(awkward,
embarrassed)
Jesus,
I feel like Cleopatra.
JOE
Oh,
yeah?
DICK
Cleopatra
or a big dumb idiot.
Tim gets up, moves to Joe’s paintings.
TIM
Have
you been painting all your life?
JOE
No,
I start five-six years ago.
TIM
What
made you start?
JOE
I
wanted to thank God. I got this feeling
I
could paint something.
DICK
Jeez,
I don’t know if
God goes for that sort of thing.
JOE
No,
it’s not what I expected.
But
that’s what come out...
Joe finishes rubbing in the linament, wipes his hand off on his
handkerchief.
JOE
(cont’d)
They
like it in New York now, that’s
got
me worried.
TIM
Hey,
have to go where your career takes you.
JOE
But
my art, see, it come from
some
place. Memphis. I don’t know
if
it come in New York and Mr. Hiram
say
he want me to “take an apartment”.
TIM
Hey,
I have no interest in L.A., either.
But
you can’t pass these things up.
JOE
Ain’t
you afraid they’ll take your art?
TIM
Metaphorically?
JOE
I
don’t-- No, no, not--
I
mean take your art. Just take it
so
it don’t come no more.
TIM
Acting
isn’t so much inspiration,
it’s
technique.
JOE
Oh,
yeah?
TIM
(hearing
himself say it)
Yeah...
usually.
Dick has a coughing fit.
JOE
That
doing any good for ya?
DICK
No...
Thanks, it was nice, though...
JOE
(finds
this difficult to suggest)
You
know, my uncle was a Lucky Strike man...
Maybe
you want to go to a doctor.
DICK
(trying
to laugh it all off)
Oh,
Jesus, let’s not start a war
over
a sore back.
Christ,
you and my daughter. “I’m not going
to
come home to watch you die of cancer.”
Christ,
what a thing-- Who asked her?
JOE
She’ll
come.
DICK
(not
hearing)
Can
we wait--? I mean, Geez, I could
get
run over my a bus. I could live
to
a hundred. I mean, Jesus.
JOE
She
come.
DICK
(anger
shooting out)
I
can’t stop now! She just has to--
JOE
She
come.
DICK
No!
She gets this letter--...
JOE
She
come, don’t matter what letter you send.
DICK
Yeah?
TIM
Sure.
JOE
Family
take care of ya. That’s right.
DICK
(pause)
I’m
just very tired... Thank you...
Christ,
I just met ya, and you’re
nicer
to me than...
JOE
Well...
I feel like we all in Oz down here.
DICK
Oz?
ANN, wearing a bright white “I Love L.A.” T-shirt over the same shorts and
shoes, runs in holding a new paperback novel in one hand and a service revolver
in the other. Her sandal flies off.
ANN
Shit!
She back tracks and grabs it, then rushes to Tim offers the gun first to
Tim.
ANN
Take
this, please!
Tim steps back, ANN turns to Dick.
ANN
I’m
being chased, please!
Hide
it!
DICK
I
work for the railroad.
Tim tries to slink away, ANN turns, unwittingly pointing the gun at him.
ANN
Don’t
go out there!
TIM
Okay!
Tim steps back to his table.
JOE
There’s
a garbage can.
Joe points, ANN whips the gun into the grabage can and ducks down behind
Joe and Dick’s table. The three men look out at the terminal concourse (the
audience) anxiously.
ANN
(hidden
from view, sticks her head up)
Could
you all act like I’m not here?
They all act casual.
ANN
Listen,
I swear I didn’t do nothing.
I
was at the ticket counter, and
it
got out of hand... Is anyone coming?
JOE
Who
we looking for?
ANN
A
security guy... with no gun.
TIM
I
see him. He’s talking to two other guys.
One’s
on a cell phone.
DICK
That’s
a government IFC walkie-talkie.
ANN
I
just wanted to change my ticket.
Motherfuckers.
DICK
They’re
looking!
(immediately
acting chummy)
Jesus
Christ!
JOE
(tries
to play along)
Oh,
yeah.
Dick smiles, slaps Tim on the back.
DICK
I
thought you were an actor?
Tim now acts chummy as well, laughs.
TIM
They’re
heading down termnal B.
Ann rises, but will stay aware, keeping an eye out, and concealing herself
from view at times.
ANN
Thank
you. That was nice of y’all to do.
TIM
You’d
better go while you can.
ANN
Go
where? This was my connecting flight.
Could
as well be Memphis in Egypt.
DICK
Where
you trying to get to?
ANN
Not
Texas.
DICK
Knot?
ANN
N-O-T,
as in any place but.... My brother
lives
outside ‘a Lubbock.
DICK
(confused)
And
that’s where you want to go?
ANN
No,
that’s where my plane ticket goes.
I
couldn’t afford Hawaii and
I
got scared, so I booked myself back
to
my brother. I got 37,000
feet
in the air and got some perspective.
My
goddamn brother, if we talk to
Freud,
is the one most responsible
for
putting me in that parking
lot
with Chuck, blowing truck drivers.
The three men are at a loss.
ANN
Yeah,
they didn’t understand it at
the
ticket counter either. I said--
(turns
on Dick)
“Listen you tight assed bitch--!”
Dick flinches in surprise, which hurts his back.
ANN
You
all right?
DICK
Yeah.
ANN
I
said, “Listen, you tight assed bitch, tell me
how
it costs you seventy-five more dollars
to
pull my butt out of one empty seat and put it in another.
That’s
when Mr. Security Man decided
to
“act” and escort me from the airport
and
I shouldn’t a’ took his
gun, but
I
just saw myself stuck on my knees in the
parking
lot of Graceland, and I went
ballistic....
My heart is just jumping.
I’m
sorry to go on.... I am not this person.
Ya
understand?
JOE
Yes,
ma’am.
ANN
(fights
back tears)
I
really need you to be nice to me.
TIM/JOE/DICK
Sure/Oh,
yeah/Okay.
DICK
Can
I get ya something to drink? Are you hungry?
ANN
They
served a snack on the plane.
Tim removes Dick’s vest, to put on Ann.
DICK
Oh,
Jesus. The freaking infamous snack.
Dick now realizes Tim has removed his vest.
ANN
Thank
you. Whatever’s fine, and
some
water.
Dick exits. Joe rises and gestures for Ann to take his seat. Tim gives her
his sun glasses and Dick’s vest. Ann takes Joe’s hait and puts it on, keeping a
watchful eye on the concourse. Tim checks the cash in his wallet.
TIM
For
seventy-five dollars
you
could change your flight?
ANN
No,
I’m pretty sure they’ll throw me in jail
now,
even if I’m polite.... Maybe that ain’t
a
bad idea. Prison.
JOE
Oh,
no, ma’am.
ANN
I’m
serious. It may be the thing to do.
TIM
No,
come on.
ANN
(looks
at Tim, gets a long shot idea)
Where
are you headed?
TIM
Me?
Los Angeles.
ANN
(huffs)
You
can have it.
JOE
You
ain’t told us where you trying to get.
ANN
Somewhere
dry and cool.
JOE
There’s
a bed in my garage where
I
work.
ANN
Your
garage?
JOE
(refers
to painting)
Where
I do my art.
Ann looks at painting, then gives Joe a dubious look.
ANN
Uh-huh.
JOE
There’s
a toilet and a shower, too.
ANN
(gives
him the once over)
No
thanks.
TIM
He
doesn’t mean that.
ANN
You
two friends?
TIM
No,
I just met him.
ANN
How
do you know what he means?
JOE
(embarrassed)
Oh,
no, I don’t--
(a
small, nervous laugh)
I’m
happily married with five kids. I got
every
relative I know
living
in my house, and more coming.
I’m
buying a new house to put ‘em all in....
But
I reckon you want some privacy.
ANN
(trying
to figure him out)
Uh-huh.
Why are you being nice to me?
JOE
You
say you need it.
Dick returns with a bagel with
cream cheese and a bottle of water.
DICK
Jesus
Christ, four-twenty-five for bread
and
water.
Dick sets the stuff on the table in front of her.
ANN
I’ll
pay it back when I can.
DICK
No,
honey, it’s just-- Freaking airports,
they
hold the goddamn food for ransom!
JOE
(to
ANN)
So
that’ll be all right?
ANN
I
don’t know.
JOE
Well,
do what you think is good.
ANN
What’s
good? You think you know?
JOE
Oh,
no. I couldn’t tell ya.
ANN
Tell
me.
JOE
Oh,
no, no, no.
ANN
Please.
JOE
Just
keep trying things til
you
know you doing the best you
can
with your life. With your life. And that’s it.
A long pause, all of them pondering.
ANN
So
the best I can do is live in your
garage?
JOE
No.
Good place to stow away til
you
figure it out, maybe.
ANN
Stow
away?... You’re really offering
me
a place to stay?
JOE
Yes,
ma’am.
ANN
(beat/smiles)
Damn,
they need to bronze you.
JOE
Oh,
yeah?
ANN
Thank
you.
DICK
You
might want to take that to go...
The
police.
JOE
Oh,
uh-huh. Let’s go.
ANN
Aren’t
you flying somewhere?
JOE
(beat/smiles)
No,
ma’am. I trust the mail.
TIM
Here’s
the seventy-five bucks in
case,
you know, later....
DICK
Why
don’t you keep that for your trip.
I’ve
got some money I can give her.
ANN
Look,
thank you, but I’m not like
some
homeless transient.
(beat,
off their looks)
Well,
I guess I am, but you don’t
have
to do all that.
DICK
It’d
do my heart good if you took it.
Really.
JOE
You
gonna need to sorta hide behind
me
as we walk.
ANN
Won’t
that look suspicious?
DICK
(rises)
I’ll
walk in front.
TIM
(rises)
Your
flight’s boarding.
DICK
I’m
not going back to Buffalo. It’s
freezing
rain today. I figure I’ll
head
up to Dyersburg.
ANN
Look,
I don’t want to screw up your plans.
DICK
No,
this is something I need to do.
(reaches
back to rub his own back)
I’ve
got ancestors buried there.
Can’t
put it off forever.
TIM
We’ll
walk you out, then I can come back.
ANN
Lord,
I don’t understand this.
I
just don’t understand why
you’re
doing this.
(pause/the
men don’t know how to respond)
But
I ain’t gonna give ya time to think
about
it. Let’s go.
JOE
(to
Dick)
Mister,
you want your letters?
DICK
Oh,
Christ, yeah, I do.
(retrieves
and pockets letters)
Thank
you.
ANN
Now,
if they catch us, y’all just walk away.
JOE
No,
we’ll make it.
TIM
We’re
in Oz.
ANN
What?
JOE
Oz.
We get there. We get there just fine.
The three men huddle, concealing and protecting Ann. As they nod that they
are ready, the lights fade on their frozen tableau. Then blackout. End of Play.
