for playwriting.
the first ten pages of the one-act i'm writing for my playwriting independent study.
(Scene One. The stage is littered with chairs. There is a long table covered with papers USR. A RECEPTIONIST sits at the table. USC is a metal cabinet. The light is harsh. From SL enter IZZY and TARA. There is the sound of two drops of water falling into a bucket. Both girls are in their early 20s. IZZY is supporting TARA with one arm and holding an umbrella over both of their heads with another. TARA is coughing madly into a piece of bloodstained cloth. The RECEPTIONIST pays no attention. IZZY awkwardly closes the umbrella and helps TARA over to the desk. IZZY pulls up two chairs (she has many to choose from) and she and TARA sit. The RECEPTIONIST still does not look up.)
IZZY
(to audience) New York. Ten PM. There is rain and an unusual chill in the air. My friend Tara is coughing up blood. (to RECEPTIONIST) My friend Tara is coughing up blood.
TARA
(helpfully holding out her bloody cloth) And tissue!
IZZY
(tapping on the desk) She’s coughing up blood and tissue.
TARA
Wanna see?
IZZY
Jeez, Tara.
RECEPTIONIST
Proof of insurance.
(TARA goes into a coughing fit.)
IZZY
She needs a doctor right away.
RECEPTIONIST
Proof of insurance.
TARA
Pocket, pocket.
(IZZY pulls a wallet out of TARA’s pocket. She slaps the insurance card on the desk.)
RECEPTIONIST
Proof of insurance. The doctor will see you shortly.
(The RECEPTIONIST stands, leads the girls to some chairs DS, and exits.)
IZZY
(commentary) The light in here is harsh. Unwelcoming. Fluorescent light has a weight to it that settles right below your ribs. It finds all your hollow places and sinks into them. It doesn’t fill them, but instead makes you aware of their emptiness.
TARA
I hate hospitals.
IZZY
I’ve yet to meet the person who likes them.
TARA
Ooh, look, this particular bloody chunk of my lung looks just like Jerry Springer!
IZZY
Jesus! Will you quit showing me your displaced body pieces?
TARA
Did you know he used to be the mayor of Cincinnati? And here he is coming out of my lungs! He sure does get around. (softer) I’m sorry I ruined your trip, Iz.
IZZY
It’s not ruined. Merely…enhanced. How many people get free tours of New York City emergency rooms on their very first visit?
TARA
It wasn’t free. You paid for the cab. (coughs into the cloth) Ooh ah. Gross. I think I need another handkerchief or something. Maybe a bucket.
IZZY
Where’d that receptionist go?
(IZZY begins peering off into the wings, looking. TARA lies down on the chairs. Suddenly two NURSES come in, carrying a Latina woman in her early 50s. She is crying. The NURSES put her on the table. The sound of a drop of water falling into a bucket.)
LATINA WOMAN
¡Mi pierna! ¡mi pierna está quebrada! Necesito un teléfono llamar a mi hija. ¡Mi hija necesita saber donde estoy!
NURSES
(in unison) The doctor will be with you shortly.
IZZY
Hey wait! My friend here needs-
NURSES
(in unison) The doctor will be with you shortly.
(Exit NURSES. IZZY doesn’t know what to do. She returns to her seat.)
LATINA WOMAN
Mi pierna…
IZZY
(commentary) New York. Ten-fifteen PM. There is fluorescent light and an unusual chill in the air. The nurses have brought in another person. A woman. She is clutching her leg. My friend Tara is coughing up blood. I can’t do anything to help her. I can’t do anything to help either of them.
LATINA WOMAN
Ohhh….
IZZY
(commentary) She is speaking of her pain. She may be speaking of other things as well. My seven years of French training has proven to be worthless once again. I am here but cannot answer. I am here but cannot help.
LATINA WOMAN
Mi hija se preocupará. ¿Qué haré? ¿Qué haré? Oh…
IZZY
(to TARA) You took seven years of Spanish, didn’t you?
TARA
Took, bullshitted my way through, same thing.
IZZY
What is that woman saying?
TARA
Didn’t you just hear me say that I skipped just about every day? I dunno, something about her arm or leg. I forget which.
IZZY
Hooray for education. (to LATINA WOMAN) Um, mi habla…es….Izzy?
(TARA laughs softly.)
What? Did I say it wrong?
TARA
I don’t know what you said, but it wasn’t what you wanted to say, I’m sure.
LATINA WOMAN
I speak English.
IZZY
Oh.
LATINA WOMAN
Your speech is Izzy? (laughs)
IZZY
No, my name. I’m sorry.
LATINA WOMAN
The ones who should be sorry are the damn doctors. I fall coming out of work, they pick me up and take me here. Ai, my leg! Where will my daughter go to look for me? They will not even give me a phone. What kind of place is this, where I cannot even use a phone?
IZZY
(brightens) Well, that’s easy enough. I can help with that. Tara, give me your cell phone.
TARA
(barely lifting her head) Do you really think I thought to grab my cell phone when my lungs were gushing blood?
IZZY
It’s not here?
TARA
Sorry baby. It’s still on the charger.
IZZY
There’s got to be a phone around here somewhere. And I still need to get you a cloth. Hold on, let me see.
(IZZY darts R, offstage.)
LATINA WOMAN
(to TARA) You have to cough, cough that way. Why don’t you watch where your germs are going?
TARA
It’s asthma-related, you can’t catch it. Why don’t you watch where you step?
(IZZY returns.)
IZZY
What kind of hospital is this?
(She runs offstage, to the left this time.)
LATINA WOMAN
Keep that bloody rag away from me. Many diseases are caught from blood.
TARA
I’m not anywhere near you! Besides, what are you gonna do? Run away?
(IZZY returns.)
IZZY
Nobody.
LATINA WOMAN
Thank you anyway. (pointedly) You are the kindest person I’ve spoken to in this hospital.
TARA
Don’t talk to her, Izzy, you’ll pollute her pristine lungs.
IZZY
I love how you spread sunshine everywhere you go, Tara.
TARA
She started it.
IZZY
(commentary) Now the air is thick with tension and heavy with white light. It’s starting to envelop my skin. Like a straightjacket. Are we the prisoners that we feel we are? If so, where are our sentinels? Are the words “Emergency Room” not urgent enough for them? Or are the words too strong, and have frightened our saviors away?
TARA
Look, look, here comes somebody. Stop her!
(A crisp white NURSE walks in briskly. IZZY immediately jumps in front of her, blocking the way.)
IZZY
Finally! Signs of life! Excuse me, but my friend Tara here really needs a clean cloth, and this woman here…uh….
LATINA WOMAN
Maria. Maria Deleon.
IZZY
…Maria Deleon needs to use the phone so her daughter knows where she is. Can you help us?
NURSE
Proof of insurance?
IZZY
Oh, er, I thought we did that part already.
NURSE
The doctor will be with you shortly.
(The NURSE sidesteps IZZY and continues on.)
IZZY
Wait. When?
NURSE
(not looking back) The doctor will be with you shortly.
(Exit NURSE.)
IZZY
(commentary) There are ghosts here, dressed in white, appearing at random and disappearing when looked for. These ghosts glide through the walls. I don’t think they have feeling. I don’t think they have any concern with the living at all.
TARA
Did that nurse just blow you off?
IZZY
I can’t believe it. How hard is it to bring a towel and tell us where a phone is?
TARA
What a bitch. I hope she’s the one who’s going to have to clean up all my blood when this rag gets too soaked.
IZZY
Jeez, please, will you stop talking about your blood?
TARA
What better place than a hospital?
MARIA
Some hospital.
TARA
When she comes back, kick her ass, Iz.
IZZY
I don’t think she’s coming back.
TARA
I swear to god, if I wasn’t near death, I’d hop up and give somebody a piece of my mind. I’ll have to settle with giving you all a piece of my lung.
IZZY
Har har.
MARIA
You keep your lung germs to yourself!
IZZY
(commentary) I have known Tara for many years now. Even in junior high she was the one who you knew would get out and go flying someplace high. She was the first of my friends to leave home, the first to apply to colleges, the first to leave the state, to go rushing off to New York City. I am only here visiting on her tailfeathers. It is strange to see her trapped now, beneath bright white lights, unable to move. I like that she wants to laugh. I don’t think Maria likes it so much, though. I like that her need to laugh rounds off the sharp edges of the hospital lights, if only for a second.
(Enter a NURSE, leading a MAN to one of the chairs. The MAN is in his 40s. His arm is shaking badly, and he clutches at it to keep it still. He seems to be in great pain. The sound of a drop of water falling into a bucket.)
NURSE
The doctor will be with you shortly.
IZZY
(commentary) Another one has gotten trapped.
MAN
I need to see the doctor right away, Nurse. Right away!
NURSE
The doctor will be with you shortly.
(Exit NURSE. The MAN looks forlorn.)
MAN
(to everyone in the room) I know what it is. It’s an allergic reaction to my medicine. It’s medicine for my colon. My colon’s a mess. The medicine, it’s new. The old stuff made me puke. They told me to come into the emergency room if I had a reaction to this new medicine. That’s what this is. All I need is to see the doctor and tell him. I know what this is!
IZZY
That sounds pretty serious.
TARA
Christ, man, we should get you to a hospital!
MARIA
You be quiet. You know where you are.
TARA
This isn’t a hospital, this is the seventh tier of hell!
IZZY
(explanatory) Tara’s a theater major.
(MARIA and the MAN nod knowingly. Suddenly the MAN’s arm spasms.)
MAN
Ohh lord. Oh. Oh.
IZZY
A doctor, a doctor!
(She does the same running back and forth bit that she did earlier, only to return dejected.)
I just don’t understand. Just how long is “shortly,” anyway?
MAN
The pain, it’s like knives…
MARIA
Vamos a morir, lo sé.
TARA
Izzy, make them stop, they’re freaking me out.
IZZY
What am I supposed to do?
TARA
I don’t know, you’re the former camp counselor.
IZZY
You want me to build a campfire and make them S’mores?
TARA
Sure, why not? A fire might finally bring somebody in here.
IZZY
No, I got it! (to everyone) I think we should pray.
TARA
Pray? You mean, like, to God?
MARIA
Prayers are for the foolish. We need doctors, not angels.
MAN
Now, I think the little lady has something there. Go on there, darlin’, I’ll pray with you. I need all the help I can get.
MARIA
Ask for a phone while you are at it.
TARA
Ask for a private room!
MAN
You’re supposed to ask for the strength to get through trying times, not for material things.
TARA
Psh. Let Izzy pray. She’ll ask for the real stuff.
remember, that's not the whole play! just the beginning. questions, comments, the usual drill?
thanks for reading.
(Scene One. The stage is littered with chairs. There is a long table covered with papers USR. A RECEPTIONIST sits at the table. USC is a metal cabinet. The light is harsh. From SL enter IZZY and TARA. There is the sound of two drops of water falling into a bucket. Both girls are in their early 20s. IZZY is supporting TARA with one arm and holding an umbrella over both of their heads with another. TARA is coughing madly into a piece of bloodstained cloth. The RECEPTIONIST pays no attention. IZZY awkwardly closes the umbrella and helps TARA over to the desk. IZZY pulls up two chairs (she has many to choose from) and she and TARA sit. The RECEPTIONIST still does not look up.)
IZZY
(to audience) New York. Ten PM. There is rain and an unusual chill in the air. My friend Tara is coughing up blood. (to RECEPTIONIST) My friend Tara is coughing up blood.
TARA
(helpfully holding out her bloody cloth) And tissue!
IZZY
(tapping on the desk) She’s coughing up blood and tissue.
TARA
Wanna see?
IZZY
Jeez, Tara.
RECEPTIONIST
Proof of insurance.
(TARA goes into a coughing fit.)
IZZY
She needs a doctor right away.
RECEPTIONIST
Proof of insurance.
TARA
Pocket, pocket.
(IZZY pulls a wallet out of TARA’s pocket. She slaps the insurance card on the desk.)
RECEPTIONIST
Proof of insurance. The doctor will see you shortly.
(The RECEPTIONIST stands, leads the girls to some chairs DS, and exits.)
IZZY
(commentary) The light in here is harsh. Unwelcoming. Fluorescent light has a weight to it that settles right below your ribs. It finds all your hollow places and sinks into them. It doesn’t fill them, but instead makes you aware of their emptiness.
TARA
I hate hospitals.
IZZY
I’ve yet to meet the person who likes them.
TARA
Ooh, look, this particular bloody chunk of my lung looks just like Jerry Springer!
IZZY
Jesus! Will you quit showing me your displaced body pieces?
TARA
Did you know he used to be the mayor of Cincinnati? And here he is coming out of my lungs! He sure does get around. (softer) I’m sorry I ruined your trip, Iz.
IZZY
It’s not ruined. Merely…enhanced. How many people get free tours of New York City emergency rooms on their very first visit?
TARA
It wasn’t free. You paid for the cab. (coughs into the cloth) Ooh ah. Gross. I think I need another handkerchief or something. Maybe a bucket.
IZZY
Where’d that receptionist go?
(IZZY begins peering off into the wings, looking. TARA lies down on the chairs. Suddenly two NURSES come in, carrying a Latina woman in her early 50s. She is crying. The NURSES put her on the table. The sound of a drop of water falling into a bucket.)
LATINA WOMAN
¡Mi pierna! ¡mi pierna está quebrada! Necesito un teléfono llamar a mi hija. ¡Mi hija necesita saber donde estoy!
NURSES
(in unison) The doctor will be with you shortly.
IZZY
Hey wait! My friend here needs-
NURSES
(in unison) The doctor will be with you shortly.
(Exit NURSES. IZZY doesn’t know what to do. She returns to her seat.)
LATINA WOMAN
Mi pierna…
IZZY
(commentary) New York. Ten-fifteen PM. There is fluorescent light and an unusual chill in the air. The nurses have brought in another person. A woman. She is clutching her leg. My friend Tara is coughing up blood. I can’t do anything to help her. I can’t do anything to help either of them.
LATINA WOMAN
Ohhh….
IZZY
(commentary) She is speaking of her pain. She may be speaking of other things as well. My seven years of French training has proven to be worthless once again. I am here but cannot answer. I am here but cannot help.
LATINA WOMAN
Mi hija se preocupará. ¿Qué haré? ¿Qué haré? Oh…
IZZY
(to TARA) You took seven years of Spanish, didn’t you?
TARA
Took, bullshitted my way through, same thing.
IZZY
What is that woman saying?
TARA
Didn’t you just hear me say that I skipped just about every day? I dunno, something about her arm or leg. I forget which.
IZZY
Hooray for education. (to LATINA WOMAN) Um, mi habla…es….Izzy?
(TARA laughs softly.)
What? Did I say it wrong?
TARA
I don’t know what you said, but it wasn’t what you wanted to say, I’m sure.
LATINA WOMAN
I speak English.
IZZY
Oh.
LATINA WOMAN
Your speech is Izzy? (laughs)
IZZY
No, my name. I’m sorry.
LATINA WOMAN
The ones who should be sorry are the damn doctors. I fall coming out of work, they pick me up and take me here. Ai, my leg! Where will my daughter go to look for me? They will not even give me a phone. What kind of place is this, where I cannot even use a phone?
IZZY
(brightens) Well, that’s easy enough. I can help with that. Tara, give me your cell phone.
TARA
(barely lifting her head) Do you really think I thought to grab my cell phone when my lungs were gushing blood?
IZZY
It’s not here?
TARA
Sorry baby. It’s still on the charger.
IZZY
There’s got to be a phone around here somewhere. And I still need to get you a cloth. Hold on, let me see.
(IZZY darts R, offstage.)
LATINA WOMAN
(to TARA) You have to cough, cough that way. Why don’t you watch where your germs are going?
TARA
It’s asthma-related, you can’t catch it. Why don’t you watch where you step?
(IZZY returns.)
IZZY
What kind of hospital is this?
(She runs offstage, to the left this time.)
LATINA WOMAN
Keep that bloody rag away from me. Many diseases are caught from blood.
TARA
I’m not anywhere near you! Besides, what are you gonna do? Run away?
(IZZY returns.)
IZZY
Nobody.
LATINA WOMAN
Thank you anyway. (pointedly) You are the kindest person I’ve spoken to in this hospital.
TARA
Don’t talk to her, Izzy, you’ll pollute her pristine lungs.
IZZY
I love how you spread sunshine everywhere you go, Tara.
TARA
She started it.
IZZY
(commentary) Now the air is thick with tension and heavy with white light. It’s starting to envelop my skin. Like a straightjacket. Are we the prisoners that we feel we are? If so, where are our sentinels? Are the words “Emergency Room” not urgent enough for them? Or are the words too strong, and have frightened our saviors away?
TARA
Look, look, here comes somebody. Stop her!
(A crisp white NURSE walks in briskly. IZZY immediately jumps in front of her, blocking the way.)
IZZY
Finally! Signs of life! Excuse me, but my friend Tara here really needs a clean cloth, and this woman here…uh….
LATINA WOMAN
Maria. Maria Deleon.
IZZY
…Maria Deleon needs to use the phone so her daughter knows where she is. Can you help us?
NURSE
Proof of insurance?
IZZY
Oh, er, I thought we did that part already.
NURSE
The doctor will be with you shortly.
(The NURSE sidesteps IZZY and continues on.)
IZZY
Wait. When?
NURSE
(not looking back) The doctor will be with you shortly.
(Exit NURSE.)
IZZY
(commentary) There are ghosts here, dressed in white, appearing at random and disappearing when looked for. These ghosts glide through the walls. I don’t think they have feeling. I don’t think they have any concern with the living at all.
TARA
Did that nurse just blow you off?
IZZY
I can’t believe it. How hard is it to bring a towel and tell us where a phone is?
TARA
What a bitch. I hope she’s the one who’s going to have to clean up all my blood when this rag gets too soaked.
IZZY
Jeez, please, will you stop talking about your blood?
TARA
What better place than a hospital?
MARIA
Some hospital.
TARA
When she comes back, kick her ass, Iz.
IZZY
I don’t think she’s coming back.
TARA
I swear to god, if I wasn’t near death, I’d hop up and give somebody a piece of my mind. I’ll have to settle with giving you all a piece of my lung.
IZZY
Har har.
MARIA
You keep your lung germs to yourself!
IZZY
(commentary) I have known Tara for many years now. Even in junior high she was the one who you knew would get out and go flying someplace high. She was the first of my friends to leave home, the first to apply to colleges, the first to leave the state, to go rushing off to New York City. I am only here visiting on her tailfeathers. It is strange to see her trapped now, beneath bright white lights, unable to move. I like that she wants to laugh. I don’t think Maria likes it so much, though. I like that her need to laugh rounds off the sharp edges of the hospital lights, if only for a second.
(Enter a NURSE, leading a MAN to one of the chairs. The MAN is in his 40s. His arm is shaking badly, and he clutches at it to keep it still. He seems to be in great pain. The sound of a drop of water falling into a bucket.)
NURSE
The doctor will be with you shortly.
IZZY
(commentary) Another one has gotten trapped.
MAN
I need to see the doctor right away, Nurse. Right away!
NURSE
The doctor will be with you shortly.
(Exit NURSE. The MAN looks forlorn.)
MAN
(to everyone in the room) I know what it is. It’s an allergic reaction to my medicine. It’s medicine for my colon. My colon’s a mess. The medicine, it’s new. The old stuff made me puke. They told me to come into the emergency room if I had a reaction to this new medicine. That’s what this is. All I need is to see the doctor and tell him. I know what this is!
IZZY
That sounds pretty serious.
TARA
Christ, man, we should get you to a hospital!
MARIA
You be quiet. You know where you are.
TARA
This isn’t a hospital, this is the seventh tier of hell!
IZZY
(explanatory) Tara’s a theater major.
(MARIA and the MAN nod knowingly. Suddenly the MAN’s arm spasms.)
MAN
Ohh lord. Oh. Oh.
IZZY
A doctor, a doctor!
(She does the same running back and forth bit that she did earlier, only to return dejected.)
I just don’t understand. Just how long is “shortly,” anyway?
MAN
The pain, it’s like knives…
MARIA
Vamos a morir, lo sé.
TARA
Izzy, make them stop, they’re freaking me out.
IZZY
What am I supposed to do?
TARA
I don’t know, you’re the former camp counselor.
IZZY
You want me to build a campfire and make them S’mores?
TARA
Sure, why not? A fire might finally bring somebody in here.
IZZY
No, I got it! (to everyone) I think we should pray.
TARA
Pray? You mean, like, to God?
MARIA
Prayers are for the foolish. We need doctors, not angels.
MAN
Now, I think the little lady has something there. Go on there, darlin’, I’ll pray with you. I need all the help I can get.
MARIA
Ask for a phone while you are at it.
TARA
Ask for a private room!
MAN
You’re supposed to ask for the strength to get through trying times, not for material things.
TARA
Psh. Let Izzy pray. She’ll ask for the real stuff.
remember, that's not the whole play! just the beginning. questions, comments, the usual drill?
thanks for reading.