Plaaaaaaay
This is my play. I'm very proud of it. But I know it's not great yet. So, yeahhhh.
Also, there's a ton of italics and stuff like that mixxing, but there's no way i'm going to go through and fix all that. So, use your imaginations. GO!
Mailbox
By Monica M. Brown
Characters
SAUL PETERSON - Man. Nervous, finicky, worried. Sensitive, but a bit frantic at the moment.
ROSEMARY BAXTER - Woman. Quirky, smart, talkative, curious. Kind of an oddball.
Scene opens with SAUL pacing back and forth impatiently next to a mailbox. He is dressed in a robe and socks, with messy hair and a sleepless look about him. He is muttering to himself and gesturing wildly at the mailbox, constantly checking the street to see if the mail truck is coming or not.
[Enter ROSEMARY, dressed in everyday clothes, and as if she’s refreshed from a morning walk. She sees that SAUL is worried and pacing, and stops to see what is wrong.]
ROSEMARY: Hey, uh, what’s wrong? Can I help you with something?
SAUL [Annoyed]: What? [Notices her] Oh, nothing.
ROSEMARY: You’re pacing like crazy; something’s gotta be the matter. What is it? Can I help you with something?
SAUL: I’m fine, really. You can keep on moving. Go on with your day, lady.
ROSEMARY: If you say so… [Starts to walk away]
[SAUL checks the mailbox. Pauses, then tries to wrench it open. Fails. Slams the top of it with his hand, then clutches it in pain.]
SAUL: DAMN!
ROSEMARY [Reacts and returns]: You’re not by any chance a felon, are you?
SAUL: What?
ROSEMARY: You’re tampering with the mail service. Are you a felon?
SAUL: No, of course not.
ROSEMARY: Well, were you planning on becoming one? Because that’s a sure-fire way to do so, if you ask me.
SAUL [Somewhat nastily]: Nobody asked you.
ROSEMARY: Well aren’t we just a bundle of joy this morning. I’m so glad that I decided to stay home from work today so that on my little walk around the neighborhood I could find myself fortunate enough to run into such a blissful creature. Lucky me I say, lucky me.
SAUL [Sarcastically]: Yes, lucky you.
[Pause.]
ROSEMARY: So, then why are you messing with that mailbox?
SAUL [snaps]: I just am, that’s all.
ROSEMARY [Sits on the backrest of the bench.]: That’s okay if you don’t answer honestly, I understand. You don’t know me that well. We’re practically strangers.
SAUL: We’re completely strangers.
ROSEMARY: And well, whose fault is that? I’ve been trying to talk to you, and all you can do is worry about that silly mailbox.
SAUL: We’re not…friends, I-I don’t know you.
ROSEMARY [Stands.]: Well, I’m Rosemary Baxter. [Extends arm to shake] Nice to meet you!
SAUL [Hesitantly shakes her hand]: Yeah, great…
[Long pause.]
ROSEMARY: Well, what’s your name then?
SAUL: Um, uh, Saul? Peterson. Saul Peterson.
ROSEMARY [Pause.]: Saul? Isn’t that kind of an old person’s name?
SAUL: I guess.
ROSEMARY [Mostly talking to herself]: But, I suppose all old people were young once. Except my Great Aunt Trudy-she was never young. Closer to kickin’ the bucket than anyone I’ve ever known.
[Moment of pause and hesitation.]
SAUL: Who says “kicking the bucket” anymore?
ROSEMARY: What?
SAUL: Who says that? Who says “kicking the bucket”?
ROSEMARY: I do. Don’t you?
SAUL: Well, no.
ROSEMARY: Well you should. It’s a perfectly acceptable way to say that someone has died.
SAUL: Why not just say they died then?
ROSEMARY: Well you see, I have, just not in that same boring, old way. I spiced it up a bit. Spicy’s always better. [Moment while ROSEMEARY thinks.] Say, do you like Indian food?
SAUL: It’s alright I guess.
ROSEMARY: I’ve never actually had it before. I pass by Indian restaurants all the time though, and they smell about as good as anything. I don’t really know why I’ve never just gone in and sat down. Some sort of secret phobia maybe? Who knows.
SAUL: Yeah, sure.
ROSEMARY: Hey we should go sometime! You and me! Have lunch, like old friends!
SAUL: What?
ROSEMARY: Come on, it’ll be fun!
SAUL: I don’t know you…
ROSEMARY: Well then we can get to know each other! It’ll be great, you’ll see.
SAUL: Oh god…
ROSEMARY: If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were in a bad mood right now, because no one ever turns down a lunch date with Rosemary Baxter.
SAUL: Oh don’t they?
ROSEMARY: What’s wrong?
SAUL: I really don’t want to talk about it.
ROSEMARY: Well, okay then, when you’re ready.
SAUL: Thank you.
[Long Pause.]
ROSEMARY: That’s a funny outfit you’ve got on, friend.
SAUL: Would you stop saying that I’m your friend?
ROSEMARY: It’s just an expression. And why shouldn’t we be friends?
SAUL: It’s not a matter of whether we should or should not. We just aren’t okay?
ROSEMARY: Okay, okay. [Pause.] That’s a funny outfit you’ve got on, stranger.
SAUL: Oh for god’s sake.
ROSEMARY: What, do you want to be my friend now?
SAUL: No! Wha-? NO! Are you crazy?
ROSEMARY: Some say yes. Some say no. I say no.
SAUL: Well then how do you explain yourself to people?
ROSEMARY: I don’t feel as though I have to explain myself to anybody.
SAUL: Oh of course you don’t, of course.
ROSEMARY: Why should I? I mean, it’s a free country. I’m not limited by what those around me think of me. I think that’s something to be proud of.
SAUL: I’m sure…
ROSEMARY: So what are you doing out here, in pajamas and socks? Oh gosh, you’re not homeless are you?
SAUL: No.
ROSEMARY: Well then where are your clothes?
SAUL: I just haven’t gotten dressed yet, okay?
ROSEMARY: It’s not okay. Aren’t you cold? You look like you’ve been up all night!
SAUL: I kind of have been.
ROSEMARY: Oh really? Why?
SAUL: It’s none of your business.
ROSEMARY [returning to sit on the backrest of the bench.]: Aww come on, just tell me.
SAUL: If I tell you will you leave me alone?
ROSEMARY: Depends. Maybe.
SAUL: Fine then. [To himself.] It’s worth a shot. [Takes a deep breath, then speaks to ROSEMARY.] At three a.m. I came out here and put a letter in that mailbox. I don’t know what I was thinking at the time besides that it was maybe some kind of genius idea. I was completely delusional. I went back to my apartment and tried to sleep for a few hours until I realized what I’d done. That was when I ran down here and started waiting. I’ve been here at least an hour waiting for the mailman to show up so he can unlock the box and I can get my letter back.
ROSEMARY: Why do you want to take it back?
SAUL: Because it was a mistake to send it.
ROSEMARY: Seemed like you wanted to at the time. That’s gotta mean something-
SAUL: NO! It was a mistake, A MISTAKE! I was an imbecile and I can’t have that letter get to her. It can’t.
ROSEMARY: Get to whom?
SAUL: Get to Audrey.
POSEMARY: Why, Saul?
SAUL [frantic]: I don’t know, I don’t know!
ROSEMARY: Hey, hey calm down okay. I didn’t mean to get you all riled up. I’m just trying to talk, maybe help a little bit. Just talk to me.
SAUL [sits on the bench.]: I thought you said you would leave me alone…
ROSEMARY: Just talk to me.
[He doesn’t speak. Long Pause.]
ROSEMARY: Okay, so just one question. Couldn’t you have emailed? I mean, snail mail’s a little outdated, don’t you think?
SAUL [a bit more collected]: I guess.
ROSEMARY: And, just imagine if you had emailed her! You wouldn’t be in this predicament, would you?
SAUL: I guess not…
ROSEMARY [Stands and sort of paces in front of the bench, like she’s coming up with a plan.]: Everything would be over and done with already. Sent and received. [Pause.] Do you think that one of the reasons why you decided to write a letter in the first place was because there was the slim possibility that you could get it back? Even if it meant waiting out here in the cold for the mailman like a crazy person? Do you think that’s what you were subconsciously thinking the whole time?
SAUL: GOD WOULD YOU SHUT UP ALREADY!!
ROSEMARY [Sits on the bench.]: Jeeze, sorry. I was just thinking.
[SILENCE.]
SAUL [calmed down some]: I’m sorry. That was harsh. I just got carried away. I’m just really stressed, you know?
ROSEMARY: Yeah, I know. [Pause.] You know what stresses me out? Reading aloud. I always have this fear when I’m reading aloud that I’ll come across a word that I don’t know and I’ll stumble on it and end up saying it wrong and the whole room will laugh at me and correct my mistake, making me feel all low or something. Do you know what I mean? Does that ever happen to you?
SAUL: Yeah, yeah, I know what you’re saying. You think, “Oh shit, now I’ll never be able to read aloud again!”
ROSEMARY: And so you don’t ever read aloud, you avoid it, in fact, because you’re afraid that the day will come where you screw it all up.
SAUL: Yeah, I know exactly how that is, actually. [SAUL starts to snap back into his original mindset, remembering that he really doesn’t want to be talking to this crazy lady at all.]
[Pause.]
ROSEMARY: So what do you do for a living Saul?
SAUL [Hesitantly.]: I write.
ROSEMARY: Ohhh, my great-grandfather twice removed was a writer once.
SAUL: Why am I not surprised…
ROSEMARY: He wrote for the Funky Skunk Society. He was famous in his hometown of Beebeeville, Iowa. [Pause.] So what do you write?
SAUL: Umm, all sorts of stuff.
ROSEMARY [teasing.]: Like letters?
SAUL: Yeah, letters. But other things too.
ROSEMARY: Gosh, that must have been some letter you wrote…
SAUL: I also write articles and poems and essays…
ROSEMARY: You must’ve said a lot of beautiful things…
SAUL: Stories, books, a song once…
ROSEMARY: Things any woman would dream of having said to them.
SAUL: Oh, it wasn’t all that, really.
ROSEMARY: Sure it was.
SAUL: No, it really wasn’t-
ROSEMARY [cutting him off.]: So what did you say?
SAUL: What?
ROSEMARY: What did you write to her? Tell me. I know you’ve got it memorized, or else you’ve got drafts of the thing lying around your apartment everywhere. A true writer. [Reassuringly.] Don’t think I don’t know about these things. That great-grandfather of mine was a writer too, remember?
SAUL: Yeah. That’s right, he was...
ROSEMARY: So tell me what you said. Go on.
SAUL: Well, actually, I do happen to have a piece of it here…[pulls it out of his robe pocket]…God this is embarrassing.
ROSEMARY: Oh come on. What’s embarrassing? [Smiles.] You don’t even know me, right?
[SAUL Looks at her, unsure of himself. Pause.]
SAUL: [Reading. Halfway through, he stops reading, and looks up the rest of the time, reciting the letter from memory.] I could say a whole host of sweet things to you. I could quote Shakespeare and Keats. But you deserve a new kind of poetry, things that I can’t even think up in my head for you. You always have understood me. You take your time listening, and try your best to respond truthfully. You are the most beautiful part of my day. My favorite is the way your lips curl up at the edges of your smile. I want you to know that I will always love you and always think of you as mine. Saul.
ROSMARY [Pause.]: That’s…wonderful.
SAUL: It’s not really. It’s some of my worst work, I-I-
ROSEMARY: What happens when you write like that?
SAUL: Well, hopefully, I make something worthwhile?
ROSEMARY: Yes, but what actually happens inside of you when you write?
SAUL [frustrated, and gradually getting louder and more irate]: What hap-? When I? Ughh!! Why are you asking me all of these questions? Don’t you get it that I’m going insane right now? I was just standing here, minding my own business, and then you walk by and start asking me all these questions, and I don’t know you, and I don’t understand, and Audrey doesn’t love me, and everything is just completely upside down right now!!
ROSEMARY: You’re wrong.
SAUL: WHAT??
ROSEMARY: You’re wrong. You said you were just standing there minding your own business, and that’s wrong. You were making a scene!
SAUL: Making a-making a SCENE?! Oh, I’ll give you a scene!
[SAUL starts running in circles around the bench, yelling and making odd tribal-like noises while beating his chest with his fists and lifting his legs up much higher then necessary. ROSEMARY sits on the bench, not paying him any mind. This goes on for about thirty seconds or so before SAUL stops running, and exhausted, sits down next to ROSEMARY on the bench, his head bowed down between his knees while he pants and tries to catch his breath.]
ROSEMARY [not at all phased by SAUL’s stunt.]: So who’s this Audrey anyway? Some sort of secret admirer, huh?
SAUL: What?
ROSEMARY: Audrey. Audrey? The woman you sent the taboo letter to? Is she your lover?
SAUL [still panting.]: Not anymore, she’s not.
ROSEMARY [walks over to him, places her hands on his shoulders in a sort of comforting, way, but speaking in a mocking voice.]: Awww, what happened? Did she turn you down? Move on? Give you the whole “it’s not you it’s me” shpeal? Figures. Nice normal guy like you, girls can’t respect ya for who ya are, what’cha got to offer.
SAUL: She respects me.
ROSEMARY: Oh, does she?
SAUL: Yes.
ROSEMARY: Oh, that’s some kind’a respect. You’re too afraid to send her a letter. That’s respect, if you ask me.
SAUL [Mostly to himself.]: I’m not asking you anything, yet you keep talking.
ROSEMARY: What’s she all about then. What’s her story? Why are you sending her a letter?
SAUL: Because I had something I needed to tell her.
ROSEMARY: What’s that.
SAUL: That I-no, no, no. I’m not talking to you.
ROSEMARY: What!
SAUL: No, no, no.
ROSEMARY: What! What is it? “That you” what?!
SAUL: That I-
ROSEMARY: Spit it out!!
SAUL: THAT I LOVE HER, OKAY?
[Pause.]
ROSEMARY: Yeahhhh, sure. Love. That’s what it’s all about, right?
SAUL: Whatever.
ROSEMARY: And what’s she think?
SAUL [sits on the bench.]: She doesn’t love me.
ROSEMARY: And you? Do you love her?
SAUL: I don’t know anymore. That’s what I was trying to explain in the letter. Everything I couldn’t say to her face.
[A very long pause. ROSEMARY joins SAUL on the bench and scoots up close to him.]
ROSEMARY [Like a challenge]: Well, if you don’t love her, then how ‘bout you kiss me, huh?
SAUL [outraged and moving away from her.]: WHAT!!
ROSEMARY [moving back closer to him.]: I said why don’t you kiss me? Give me a kiss!
SAUL: No. No, I don’t even know you! And Audrey-
ROSEMARY: Oh Audrey, Audrey, Audrey. All this about the girl you say you love, but who you won’t even send a letter to without completely flipping out. That’s some instability, if you ask me…
SAUL: I WASN’T ASKING YOU ANYTHING!!
[Pause.]
ROSEMARY: Jeeze, I was just-
SAUL: No. No, I’ve had enough of this. [Exits S.R.]
[ROSEMARY sits down on the bench. She sits picking at her nails and looking up at the sky. She starts to whistle a tune that sounds faintly like “Super Freak”. About forty seconds pass before SAUL re-enters from S.R.]
SAUL: Why should I leave, I don’t have to leave. I was here first. You have to leave. [Stares at her and points fervently off stage.]
ROSEMARY: I’m not going anywhere.
SAUL: What do you mea-you-you have to leave! I can’t handle you anymore!
ROSEMARY: This is a public place. I have just as much right to be here as you do. I’m not leaving.
SAUL: Well, then stop talking to me, okay? I have to stand here and wait for the mailman, so stop asking me questions and messing with my head. You seem to know all about the law. Am I aloud some peace and quiet? Under these rules you live by? Can I press charges if you say another word?
[Long pause as they stare each other down.]
ROSEMARY: How about three. Freedom. Of. SPEECH.
SAUL: Oh for Christ’s sake… [Turns away and goes to sit on the curb. Buries his head in his hands, muttering to himself.]
ROSEMARY [looking down at him]: Saul, I don’t know if you understand what’s going on here, but you should because it’s your life that’s gonna be messed up if you don’t snap out of it quick.
SAUL [muffled from within his hands.]: Oh, really?
ROSEMARY: Yes, yes. You have to understand what you’ve done.
SAUL [looking at her in disbelief]: What I’ve done? What I’VE done?
ROSEMARY: Mmhmm.
SAUL: All I’ve done is mind my own business! I don’t bother people with idiotic questioning, or judge complete strangers for what they’ve done in their own private time…
ROSEMARY: Oh Saul, I didn’t judge you, I didn’t-
SAUL: I don’t mess with people’s minds or tell them to kiss me when I’ve only met them ten minutes beforehand!
ROSEMARY: Oh, I was just kidding, I was just-
SAUL: NO. No. [Pause.] What about what you have done?
ROSEMARY: I am of no consequence here Saul. You’re the one that needs the helping. You’re the one that is confused.
SAUL: No. No. You know what I think? I think you’re the one that’s confused. You’re very, very confused. You try to pin off your confusion on innocents like me, but I see through you. [Laughs.] You didn’t fool me, Rosemary. You didn’t trick me. You try to get people to listen to you in order for you to feel better about yourself. Ohh, you know it’s true, don’t you? Tell me, have you ever sent a letter to a man you loved? Tell me you didn’t feel the way I feel now? Utterly hopeless, weak, afraid. Tell me you didn’t. TELL ME!
[ROSEMARY slowly sits down on the bench, hands tucked between her knees. She begins to cry softly. She whispers something inaudible.]
SAUL: What?
[She whispers again slightly louder.]
SAUL: WHAT? You were so talkative a moment ago, why not now? WHAT DO YOU HAVE TO SAY?
ROSEMARY: I have not and I did.
SAUL [Turns away from her.]: Explain.
ROSEMARY [weakly]: His name was Adam. He was wonderful. And I was in love. B-but I never sent him a letter. I tried to, b-but I was too scared. [SAUL turns to look at her speaking.] So I sat at home, feeling hopeless and weak and afraid, just like you said. [Stands, and walks in the opposite direction of SAUL, wringing her hands and looking out into the distance. Pause.] I loved him, but I was too goddamn afraid. I wrote the letter-took me days to get just right. Then I lit the fire on the stove in my apartment, and burned that little piece of paper, the one that I’d put my whole heart into, burned it ‘til it was gone. [Cries more. Pause.] You’ve got to send that letter Saul. [Turns to him.] You’ve got to.
SAUL: Rosemary I-
ROSEMARY: No. Don’t say anything.
[They stand opposite, staring at each other for a good minute.]
ROSEMARY [wiping away her tears.]: Well, would you look at that? Here comes the mailman. [Pause as ROSEMARY watches as SAUL stares anxiously down the street.] It was good talking with you Saul Peterson. [Pause.] Best of Luck.
[ROSEMARY exits S.R. SAUL watches for the mailman, not answering or reacting to ROSEMARY speaking or leaving. He stares for a good long while. He then glances at the mailbox, taps the top of it twice with the palm of his hand, and exits, not looking back.]
- THE END -