© Scott Tobin 2014
Cast of Characters
SYLVIA 40’s, a suburban mom
JESSICA 20’s, a graphic designer
The middle of the road in Lower East Side, NY, early morning
Oh my God, I’m sorry, I am so sorry. Please wake up, please. Please! HELP! HELP HERE! SOMEONE PLEASE! Oh Miss. Please Miss, don’t do this to me. I can’t believe this. Listen, this wasn’t entirely my fault. You were going way too fast. And where’s your helmet? That’s not my fault at all. I tried stopping short but my heel got caught on the gas pedal. But you’re just as responsible for getting hit by my car as I am. Miss, come on, don’t do this to me. I don’t want this on my conscience. I didn’t start the day off planning on manslaughter. Mike’s going to kill me. The cops are going to take my license away. Ha. I’m worried about my license? What about jail? And what about the guilt? Huh? What about that? Living with all the guilt. It took me four years to get over crushing that squirrel. And how is little Bradford going to handle this. His mommy is now a murderer. The other kids are going to make his life a living hell. They’ll taunt him. I can hear it now. “Bradford’s Mom’s a Murderer, Bradford’s Mom’s a Murderer!” He hates me enough as it is for that Barney backpack. Jesus, I’ll have to move. The suburbs is no place for a female murderer. I’ll have to move to the city. Don’t do this to me. Wake up, dammit. Wake–yourself—up!
Anything. I’ll give you anything. Cash. Jewelry. Hey, I will even give you the very car that just slammed into you. Sound good? Huh? A doorprize. No? Okay, I guess I’ll have to call an ambulance. Is that what you want? Do you want the embarrassment of an ambulance? Wait! I forgot! I know CPR. I can practice my CPR on you. Maybe that will work. Would you like that? Some CPR?
Don’t worry. The teacher said I was the best in the class.
Whoa. What the heck? What the heck was that? Huh? Hey. Miss? Hey! Hello? HELLOOOOO! What is going on? Hey, don’t play games with me. Hey! Listen Miss, if you are alive and well, you’d better let me in on it. What you just did was
inappropriate. Very inappropriate. And if you’re not dead, I wish to be informed. Hello in there! Alive?
Do you want more CPR? Is that it? Huh? You like the CPR?
What is your story? Speak to me. Speak. Listen, I know I have hit you with my car, but if this is some bizarre way of punishing me, it is not fair. Either you’re awake or you’re not. Don’t put me through the ringer. I’m very fragile. Is that it then? Fine, I’m leaving. Did you hear me? I am leaving. Goodbye. I said goodbye. Achh, dealing with you is worse than dealing with a baby.
Do you know what I have in my hand? A cellular phone. What do you think of that? Because I tell you, I am no longer going to call an ambulance. No, I am now going to call the police. And I am going to tell them what a naughty, naughty girl you have been. It’s true. I am going to call them right now. Unless, of course, you had something else in mind.
Ho. This was not what I was expecting when I woke up this morning. We really need to talk. I just wish I knew your name. I need to know.
There, that wasn’t too hard. Let’s see. Ah, Jessica. Your name is Jessica. What a pretty name. Hello Jessica, my name is Sylvia. I see you live in the city. I wonder what you’re doing around this way. You probably come out here once in a while to skate and clear your mind. Perhaps you’re a poet. Regardless, you are a city girl. I must confess, I feel a bit envious. I’ve always dreamed of city life. Bouncing from nightclub to nightclub. Smoking cigarettes and meeting friends at midnight. Eating exotic fish. You must have fun every night. Life in the suburbs, it’s limited.
I just bet you’re a poet and a graphic artist. I like that. I like the artsy type. I’ve never known any artsy types. Just the housewife parade. Who am I to put it down? I’m right in front waving the baton. But I wish I had your type of livelihood. Right now, I wish
you had an ounce of cognizance. Because it’s very odd getting to know you this way. I mean, you’ve obviously very pretty. I bet you’re very popular. You have such a lovely face. But I’m not sure I would have looked twice at you unless I’d struck you. What I’m trying to say is that, somewhere buried deep, deep down, I’m sure I’ve had these feelings too. I mean, I know…in college there was this girl named Felicity, and though nothing ever happened, I always wondered. Always wondered if…
What do you say I lift you up and put you in the back of my car and…
What am I saying? What am I doing? Am I out of my mind? I can’t do this. I’m a married woman. I have a husband, and a child, and a life. I can’t be messing around with you in the middle of the street. Who do you think you are anyway? What makes you assume that I’m attracted to you? You’ve won over my sympathy. Isn’t that enough? You have to have it all? Damn you, I should leave you here for dead!
I’m sorry, darling. Shhh. I didn’t mean to holler at you. Shhh, shhh.You don’t need anymore stress right now. I’m just a little confused at this moment. Please forgive me. Anyway, I wonder what Mike would think. Mike, that’s my husband. He’d find it devastating, of course. Let’s face it. I’d be shunned. Banished from suburbia. Tossed out of the lawn-kingdom for my wanton desires. And what about Bradford? He’d wonder what happened to his mother. I mean, of course I’d still be his mother. He accept it after a while. Isn’t that what kids do? Learn to accept things? We all learn to accept changes after a while. You and I could find a little place. A cozy studio in the village. Throw rugs and tiny lamps. A mattress on the hardwood floor. Ecru walls and African figurines on the shelves. Cooking fresh pasta with Sauce crème. Glasses of Zin while we languish on the fire escape. Fall nights and the makeshift gardens below us, with Christmas lights hung way too early. Wait. What the hell am I talking about? You haven’t even opened your eyes and I’m setting our wedding date. I can’t do this alone. I need you to tell me. Give me something. Anything. I need you.
Is this heaven?