Category Archives: Full-length Plays: Drama Serial

DRAMA SERIAL: ‘END ZONE’ BY BOB SHUMAN (SCENE 5) · Jul 21st

What follows is the last scene of END ZONE, a play by Bob Shuman; the first four scenes were serialized on Stage Voices on June 23, June 30, July 7, and July 14; they can also be read in the blog’s archives under: Full-length Plays: Drama Serial).

The play was first developed at Hunter College and then given readings at The Lark Play Development Center and Second Stage Theatre. It is excerpted in two anthologies from Applause Theatre and Cinema Books.

In the following scene, LUCIAN is alone with ARTHUR.

END ZONE

A Play by Bob Shuman

SCENE:

A motel. It’s about a mile down the road from a prep school in the Northeast.

TIME

A while back, in November. Before dinner.

CHARACTERS:

LUCIAN “LUCE” TRAINER: A legendary prep-school football coach and former dean of the Masters School. Late 70s.

ARTHUR TRAINER: LUCIAN’s youngest son. A freelance composer and percussionist who emphasizes environmental sounds in his work. Late 30s.

NORM TRAINER: LUCIAN’s oldest son. A sporting goods salesman in his late 40s. He has a slight Southern accent.

SCENE 5

6:50 A.M. LUCIAN’s motel room. Both ARTHUR and LUCIAN have slept in this room during the night (what little sleep they’ve gotten). The door between the two rooms is closed. The trophy box has been placed near the door. It’s raining and we can hear it. During the course of the scene—which takes place over several hours in stage time–both LUCIAN and ARTHUR will get dressed and pack.

ARTHUR: I’m trying to get out of here.

LUCIAN: Throw him in the shower, get him moving.

ARTHUR: I’m not the one who’s late.

LUCIAN: You better do what I say.

ARTHUR: (Acquiescing.) . . . But then you two are on your own!

(Silence. ARTHUR pulls on his pants.)

LUCIAN: (Finding a note.) What’s he got here?

ARTHUR: (Looking at the heavy rain.) You two go–probably going to cancel the game anyway—look at it . . .

(ARTHUR exits and we hear him banging on the outside door.)

LUCIAN: What does he have here?

(Pause.)

LUCIAN: (Reading) “. . . No way of knowing.”

(We hear ARTHUR banging on the door outside.)

ARTHUR: TIME TO GET UP!

LUCIAN: “No way of saying.”

ARTHUR: (Outside calling to NORM: ) GET UP, WILL YA?

LUCIAN: “Let me go now."

ARTHUR: Gotta take him over the breakfast.

LUCIAN: “Love, Norman.”

(LUCIAN crumbles up the note.)

(As ARTHUR re-enters, LUCIAN runs at the door between the two rooms; he hurls himself at it, a seventy-something slam dancer.)

(The next 2 lines overlap.)

ARTHUR: DAAADDD!

LUCIAN: (To NORM) THINK YOU CAN GET AWAY . . .

ARTHUR: WHAT ARE YOU DOING, WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING?!

(LUCIAN falls to the floor. ARTHUR runs over to him.)

(LUCIAN has a bloody nose; he remains on the floor; ARTHUR runs to get a wet cloth.)

ARTHUR: (Running to get a cloth and end up using a shirt.) MUST BE FALLING APART!

(ARTHUR wipes LUCIAN's face.)

ARTHUR: I have to wipe . . . You have to let me, Coach . . .

LUCIAN: Don’t . . .

ARTHUR: (Trying to look at LUCIAN's bloody nose.) Stop moving . . .

LUCIAN: Leave it!

(Silence as ARTHUR stays with LUCIAN.)

ARTHUR: He must be out getting the paper.

(Pause.)

ARTHUR: Checking out . . .

LUCIAN: You think so, do you?

ARTHUR: . . . at the front desk.

LUCIAN: He left.

(Pause.)

ARTHUR: Don’t be silly, he’s coming right back.

(ARTHUR goes to the window.)

ARTHUR: See if I see the car.

(LUCIAN looks at the trophy, reading the inscription, running his fingers over it as if Braille.)

LUCIAN: (Reading what's on trophy.) "Selfless dedication."

ARTHUR: (Rationalizing) ( Look, he’s coming right back.

LUCIAN: (Reading what’s on trophy) “Teamwork.”

ARTHUR: Oh, now, don’t be scared.

LUCIAN: “Outstanding esprit de corps.”

ARTHUR: Couldn’t have gone far, he wouldn’t have just left.

(Silence.)

LUCIAN: Packed the car last night.

ARTHUR: Just went over to see about the limo.

LUCIAN: You know how mad he gets, probably went to breakfast.

ARTHUR: He’s got a limo coming to pick you up.

LUCIAN: We’ll just wait here.

ARTHUR: Probably meet you at the game.

(Silence.)

ARTHUR: Really makes this . . .

LUCIAN: Better this way.

ARTHUR: . . . Rough . . .

LUCIAN: Did this last night . . .

ARTHUR: I want to catch a bus.

LUCIAN: You don’t worry, Arthur. He’ll be along.

(Silence.)

LUCIAN: You’ve got to get going.

ARTHUR: Don’t know why he didn’t say anything.

LUCIAN: . . . Get back to the city.

ARTHUR: Don’t want to wait another hour . . .

LUCIAN: It’s fine, Arthur.

ARTHUR: Norm will have gotten back by then.

(ARTHUR finds wallet, makes LUCIAN accept money.)

LUCIAN: What's this?

ARTHUR: Here.

LUCIAN: I don't want . . .

ARTHUR: . . . Take it, I was going to give it to you.

LUCIAN: I don’t need anything . . .

ARTHUR: This is silly.

LUCIAN: Keep your–!

ARTHUR: No–

LUCIAN : Put that away I said.

ARTHUR: Just take it.

(Silence.)

(ARTHUR packs.)

LUCIAN: Nice to see you Art.

ARTHUR: Socks, shirts . . . Just get it done . . . . . .

LUCIAN: Sorry, we didn’t have more time . . .

ARTHUR: Here, put this on.

(ARTHUR wraps a sweater around LUCIAN. LUCIAN is motionless.)

ARTHUR: So you don’t get cold.

(Pause.)

ARTHUR: I’ll get your ties.

(ARTHUR brings over ties.)

(Silence.)

ARTHUR: Get you ready . . . You’re going to have to pick which one you like. I don’t know which ones you like . . .

(Silence.)

ARTHUR: . . . All the people out there to see you . . . .

LUCIAN: "Be not afeared . . .

ARTHUR: Maybe you'll see Norm.

LUCIAN: “ the isle is full of noises . . .

ARTHUR: We’re on our own.

(Pause.)

ARTHUR: It’s been good to see you again. I'm sorry.

LUCIAN: Go on now . . .

ARTHUR: I should probably wait . . . I’ve really got to go.

(Silence.)

LUCIAN: When we’re back in Georgia I’ll call.

(Silence.)

ARTHUR: You have a good trip.

LUCIAN: Thank you for coming.

ARTHUR: Get home safe.

(THEY shake hands.)

(ARTHUR exits with his bag.)

(Silence. LUCIAN waits. HE finds several full bottles of pills hidden in his luggage.

Finally he begins taking them. HE looks around the room, awaiting his death.)

LUCIAN: (Praying to himself at first.) Pray for us sinners . . .

(END OF SCENE)

(END OF PLAY)

(END ZONE is excerpted in One on One: The Best Men’s Monologues for the 21^st Century and in the upcoming Duo!: The Best Scenes for Two for the 21^st Century—both from Applause Theatre and Cinema Books.)

(END ZONE, © 2008, before being revised, was entitled GLORY DAYS © 1994 and then DEDICATION. All rights, including but not limited to professional, amateur, motion pictures, recitation, lecturing, public reading, all forms of mechanical or electronic reproduction, including information storage and retrieval systems and photocopying, and the rights of translation into foreign languages, are strictly reserved. Permission for the use of END ZONE or any portion thereof must be secured in writing prior to such use from the Author’s agent, Marit Literary Agency, 3801 Hudson Manor Terrace, Suite 6I, Bronx, New York 10463; Maritagency@gmail.com; 646-667-8512; ATTN, Bob Shuman.)

DRAMA SERIAL: ‘END ZONE’ BY BOB SHUMAN (SCENE 4) · Jul 14th

What follows is the fourth scene of END ZONE, a play by Bob Shuman; its serialization on Stage Voices will end next Tuesday (Scene 1, 2, and 3 were posted on June 23, June 30, and July 7; they can also be read in the blog’s archives under: Full-length Plays: Drama Serial).

In the following scene, LUCIAN and his sons are together after a rally.

END ZONE

A Play by Bob Shuman

SCENE:

A motel. It’s about a mile down the road from a prep school in the Northeast.

TIME

A while back, in November. Before dinner.

CHARACTERS:

LUCIAN “LUCE” TRAINER: A legendary prep-school football coach and former dean of the Masters School. Late 70s.

ARTHUR TRAINER: LUCIAN’s youngest son. A freelance composer and percussionist who emphasizes environmental sounds in his work. Late 30s.

NORM TRAINER: LUCIAN’s oldest son. A sporting goods salesman in his late 40s. He has a slight Southern accent.

SCENE 4

1:00 AM. LUCIAN, NORM, and ARTHUR are in NORM’S motel room. NORM has just gotten back from the pep rally.

(The Brothers are drinking. Throughout the scene, as they slug back shots, they pound the bottle or glass down hard—and quickly refill their glasses.)

NORM: (Ignoring Lucian, saying the pep-rally speech.) "We’re not saying . . .

ARTHUR: (Catching on that NORM is saying Lucian’s speech) Right, right . . . (trying to remember what LUCIAN said at the rally)

NORM: Put your hand over your heart.

(NORM and ARTHUR put their hands over their hearts and try to give part of LUCIAN’s pep-rally speech.)

(The next two lines are spoken at the same time.)

NORM: “That the challenge be . . .”

ARTHUR: ”That the challenge be . . .”

NORM: “Insignificent!”

(The next two lines are spoken at the same time.)

NORM:

Insignificant! Sorry.

ARTHUR:

Insignificant!

NORM: (To ARTHUR, forcing Arthur’s hand over his heart for him.) Put your hand over your heart!

ARTHUR: Oh, right.

NORM and ARTHUR: . . . WE’RE JUST DOING . . .

(NORM and ARTHUR put their hands over their hearts. Pause.)

LUCIAN: Something, aren’t you?

NORM and ARTHUR: WHAT WE SAID WE WERE GOING TO DO!

ARTHUR: Like holy shit, man, I coulda had a V-8 . . .

LUCIAN: That’s enough now, off to bed with you.

NORM: He doesn’t need someone writing him a speech, he’s best on his feet.

LUCIAN: I hear you.

ARTHUR: Clayt was bawling, crying . . .

NORM: Just put him out there . . .

ARTHUR: Tears streaming down his face . . .

NORM: . . . and tell him to start talking!

NORM and ARTHUR: We’re just doing what we said we were going to—

(NORM is using ARTHUR’s hand to punch ARTHUR.)

NORM: Stop hitting yourself, stop hitting yourself.

ARTHUR: HEY!

NORM: When are you going to stop hitting yourself?

ARTHUR: Watch it.

(The next four lines overlap.)

NORM:

Coach in

front of the bon fire with the

flames . . .

ARTHUR:

Let’s go Defense!

Defense, let’s go!

(LUCIAN turns out the lights on NORM and ARTHUR. Pitch black.)

NORM:

Heyyy, what’re you doing?

ARTHUR:

Hold it, hold it!

LUCIAN: Time for sleep.

NORM: What’s goin on here?

LUCIAN: Got to get up in the morning.

ARTHUR: Hey, turn the lights on!

LUCIAN: Quiet you two down

NORM: What do you think you’re doing?!

LUCIAN: NORMAN, I WANT TO SPEAK TO YOU TOMORROW!

(The next four lines overlap.)

NORM:

Jesus Christ?!

ARTHUR:

Can’t see a fucking thing . . .

NORM:

Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey hey, hey.

LUCIAN:

You don’t have to talk like

that, do you?!

ARTHUR: Practically kill myself.

LUCIAN: I never taught my sons to speak like . . .

(ARTHUR knocks into the wall.)

ARTHUR: Oww!

(LUCIAN turns the lights on. Silence.)

ARTHUR: (Going to the window) I just want to see if I see Clayt coming.

NORM: What’s that?

ARTHUR: Clayt’s coming to shake Coach’s hand.

(Pause.)

NORM: (Unbelieving) Clayt’s coming over?

LUCIAN: What’s that you’re saying.

NORM: You invited Clayt over here?

ARTHUR: Hired me at the school.

(Silence.)

NORM: Come on, Coach. A light one. A light one.

LUCIAN: I don’t want anything.

NORM: Course you do.

LUCIAN: None for me.

ARTHUR: TWO OF US WORKIN AT THE SCHOOL!

(Silence.)

LUCIAN: Andy Dugan picked us up.

ARTHUR: Dugan’s funeral home.

NORM: DOWN. SET.

ARTHUR: Andy was driving a dead body.

(Pause.)

(The next three speeches should be said at the same time.)

NORM:

Say that again?

LUCIAN:

Hadn’t seen him since

the eighth grade.

ARTHUR:

He recognized Coach.

LUCIAN: He pulls up to us and says, “Mr. Trainer, could I offer you a lift?”

ARTHUR: He was going to a viewing.

LUCIAN: Had me sitting on top of the coffin!

(Silence.)

(ARTHUR pours another drink.)

ARTHUR: We hitchhikedout to the rally.

NORM: With a corpse . . . ?

ARTHUR: We didn’t see you comin.

NORM: You got him out on the highway hitchhiking?

ARTHUR: You didn’t come to pick us up.

LUCIAN: I don’t want you getting all upset.

ARTHUR: Who else was going to take us out there?

LUCIAN: I know what you do . . .

NORM: What’s wrong with you?

ARTHUR: I had to get him out there, didn’t I?

NORM: No, no, you didn’t have to get him out there.

ARTHUR: Best pep rally they ever had!

NORM: You didn’t have to get him out there. He was supposed to stay here and get some rest, so he can make his speech tomorrow.

ARTHUR: I didn’t hear anyone complaining.

NORM: I told you to wait for me.

LUCIAN: I don’t want you getting excited.

ARTHUR: I had to get out there myself.

NORM: I told you I was coming.

ARTHUR: I had people I needed to see, too!

NORM: You could watch him for one night.

ARTHUR: I had people I needed to see, too.

NORM: You put him in a hearse.

ARTH UR: GOT TO SEE CLAYT DIDN’T YOU!

NORM: (Pulling ARTHUR by the scruff of the neck) He could have gotten killed.

ARTHUR: He wasn’t going to get killed.

(Silence.)

NORM: (To ARTHUR) I mean fuck off! How much longer you think he's got?

LUCIAN: That’s enough now . . .

NORM: . . . How much longer you think he’s going to have anyway?

LUCIAN: You heard what I just said!

NORM: You just stay back.

LUCIAN: Let him go.

NORM: Coach knows it.

LUCIAN: Stop it!

NORM: (About how much longer LUCIAN has to live:) Answer me.

(Pause.)

LUCIAN: That’s enough.

NORM: Six months?

ARTHUR: I don’t know.

NORM: Fifteen years?

ARTHUR: I DON’T KNOW, I JUST SAID!

NORM: How much longer you think he’s going to live?

LUCIAN: You’re not supposed to be . . .

(LUCIAN heads to the other room, turning off one of the lights.)

(Pause.)

ARTHUR: I’m going outside . . .

(ARTHUR goes to put on his jacket.)

NORM:

(Drunk, to LUCIAN.) Come on back here, Coach, I didn’t mean it.

ARTHUR: Get some fresh air .

NORM: (Drunk, but meaning it, to LUCIAN.) We didn't mean it.

ARTHUR: Clayt should have been here by now.

LUCIAN: No use talking to you.

NORM: Supposed to have a good time . . .

ARTHUR: Clayt will just stop in for a quick drink . . .

NORM: (To LUCIAN, still apologizing.) Best pep rally ever.

ARTHUR: Clayt said we ought to get together . . .

NORM: (Talking about LUCIAN) Just have to put him on his feet.

ARTHUR: Don’t even know if Clayt knows what he’s talking about, it’s past 2:00.

NORM: Come onnn, sit down. Still be living after all the rest of us are long gone, right Farts?

(ARTHUR exits.)

(NORM downs his shot.)

(Silence.)

NORM: I said to Clayt . . .

LUCIAN: Go ahead and get a good night’s sleep.

NORM: I said to him, I don’t want to see your secretary.

LUCIAN: Look at you.

NORM: I don’t want to see the Director of Athletic Development.

LUCIAN: A mess.

NORM: I’m not seein’ Zant.

LUCIAN: Smell . . . When I think . . .

NORM: (As if to Clayt) I just want to see you!

LUCIAN: How others looked up to you.

NORM: Say to him, I say to him, if you and me are gonna work together . . . you gotta explain to me . . .

LUCIAN: (Knowing that NORM is lying to him) . . . No reason to lie . . .

NORM: This is really what I said to him. This is what I said . . . . If you and me are going to work together you gotta explain to me why this goddamn prep-school is the best keep secret in the whole goddamned country!

(Pause.)

LUCIAN: You never saw him.

(Pause.)

NORM: Whaddaya mean? Sure I did.

LUCIAN: I talked with Clayt myself.

(Silence.)

(Phone rings.)

NORM: (Thinking Clayt is calling.) There he is. See this, Coach? Here’s Clayt right here. I knew it. Don’t tell me. He’s right here! Hello? (Static on the other end.) Hello?

(Silence.)

LUCIAN: (To NORM) You’re lying to me.

(The next two lines overlap.)

NORM:

What do you mean,

I’m lying to you.

LUCIAN:

You’re lying.

I know what you're doing.

NORM: What do you mean?

LUCIAN: I’ll never let you do it.

NORM: What are you talking . . . about?

LUCIAN: Look me in the eye, so I can see. Look at me so I can see whether you’re lying or not. Look at me! To my face. To your own father! You can’t even look at me . . . I know you would do that to me with everything I have . . . Put me there!

(Silence.)

NORM: I CAN’T TAKE IT ON ANYMORE, COACH! I CAN’T MAKE IT WORK. I DON’T KNOW HOW TO SAY IT, BUT I’M NOT THAT STRONG. CAN’T YOU SEE THAT? CAN’T YOU SEE THAT? STOP LOOKG AT ME AS IF I’M SOMETHING I’M NOT. NORM WILL TAKE CARE OF THAT, NORM WILL FIX THAT—I CAN’T, COACH—AND I HAVEN’T EVER BEEN ABLE TO!

(ARTHUR enters with a note.)

ARTHUR: Clayt left this downstairs.

LUCIAN: (To NORM) Tomorrow you need to talk to me.

ARTHUR: (Reading note) “Sorry we didn’t connect.”

NORM: (About Clayt) Let me see it.

(NORM takes the note.)

ARTHUR: He was here.

NORM: (Reading) “Good to chat with Luce . . . Glad to have Arthur on board.”

(Silence.)

NORM: Where’s your cigar?

ARTHUR: Sounds like we should have another drink, shouldn’t we?

NORM: You don’t have a job unless Clayt gives you a cigar.

ARTHUR: What do you mean?

NORM: It’s true. That’s the way he signs off on things. He kept promising me for the longest time.

LUCIAN: Don’t listen to him.

NORM: No matter how many promises he was giving me. No matter how many times he spoke to me, all that time I was following him around!

(Suddenly, NORM rushes at ARTHUR, giving him a Mohawk.)

NORM: (Tickling ARTHUR in a children's game) Are you the monk that told the monk that I'm the monk who told the monk that he's the monk . . .?

ARTHUR: Hey–

NORM: . . . that told the monk that you're the monk—

ARTHUR: What are you doing?

NORM: . . .that I'm the monk he’s the monk that hit the monk around the corner?

ARTHUR: What are you doing? Knock it off!

NORM: I don’t care.

ARTHUR: Cut it out will you? Stop that.

NORM: Go back to the East Village if you want!.

LUCIAN: (To his dead wife.) Can you hear me, Rose Mary?

NORM: Doesn’t matter to me! It’s better if you don’t take any RESPONSIBILITY!

LUCIAN: You’re here with me now, aren’t you?

NORM: (To ARTHUR) I WANT TO KNOW WHAT HAPPENS TO THE PEOPLE WHO DON’T MAKE IT. I WANT TO KNOW WHAT HAPPENS TO THE PEOPLE WHO AREN’T LUCKY ENOUGH—WHO BELIEVED THE HORSE SHIT THAT THEY SHOULD BE HELPING SOMEONE!

LUCIAN: I feel your hands, running over my face . . .

NORM YOU’VE JUST LET SOMEONE ELSE TELL YOU WHAT TO DO . . . ALL YOU’VE DONE IS LET SOMEONE ELSE GET AWAY WITH IT!.

LUCIAN: . . . Like cobwebs.

NORM: I could go up to some rough city.

LUCIAN: Could I meet you Rose Mary? Could I meet you?

NORM: Some tough city. I could show up there.

LUCIAN: (As if to Rose Mary) When will I be able to meet you?

NORM: Tomorrow. (About LUCIAN.) He never had any money, he was a teacher!

LUCIAN: How much longer must I wait.

NORM: Coach doesn’t have any pension.

ARTHUR: You all right, Coach?

NORM: Maybe I’d never come back.

LUCIAN: Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee; blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death. Amen.

(Silence.)

NORM: He takes you out for lunch if he hires you. I know he does that.

(NORM is drinking.)

(Silence.)

NORM: (To ARTHUR) Tell me what you’re hiding.

ARTHUR: Nothing. I’m not hiding anything..

NORM: You’re hiding something . . .

ARTHUR: I’m not hiding anything . . .

NORM: You’re hiding something!

LUCIAN: (To ARTHUR) You talk to me.

NORM: . . . you’re hiding something from me!

LUCIAN: (To ARTHUR) . . . I want you to talk to me!

NORM: Like that job for Farts, you’re hiding something!

ARTHUR: I thought you . . . ?

(Suddenly, NORM starts arm wrestling with ARTHUR.)

NORM: (As they wrestle) You’re dead!

ARTHUR: WATCH IT!

NORM: What are you hiding?!

ARTHUR: NORM!

NORM: I’ll kill you!

ARTHUR: Watch it—

NORM: What are you hiding from me?

ARTHUR: (As they arm-wrestle) Thomasia!

NORM: SAY IT!

LUCIAN: You’ll stay with me now, won’t you, Art?

ARTHUR: I can’t–

NORM: YOU’LL NEVER BEAT ME!

LUCIAN: Do you hear me, Art?

NORM: You’ll never beat me. You’ll never beat me. You hear me?!

LUCIAN: Maybe you could stay with me?

NORM: You understand me?! Think you’re so good. What have you ever given him? . . . I could have shown up and disappeared into some tough city . . .

LUCIAN: Give Norm and Thomasia a little break?

(ARTHUR wins the arm wrestling.)

(LUCIAN goes to his coat, take out a cigar and puts it on the table.)

(For the rest of the scene LUCIAN will be coughing due to the cigar smoke; it becomes more and more severe as the scene progresses.)

(Silence.)

NORM: . . . I’ll take Coach up to the speakers stand tomorrow and be done . . .

(Silence.)

LUCIAN: (To ARTHUR, coughing.) Pour us a drink.

NORM: I’ll be on my way.

LUCIAN: Bourbon and lemonade.

NORM: We’ve given enough to the Master’s school, haven’t we, Coach?

LUCIAN: (Coughing.) . . . Come on, this is supposed to be a celebration, isn’t it?

NORM: All the time we’ve spent being grown up.

LUCIAN: Think of a toast.

NORM: (About the note) No such thing. We never grow old, other people just think we did. Inside we’re exactly the same, we just have more experience.

LUCIAN: . . .Yale man’s been hired new Alumni Director . . .

(Silence.)

NORM: PROPOSE THE TOAST!

ARTHUR: . . . Alumni Director.

LUCIAN: To us being together!

NORM: Coach’s facility arrangements at the home have been made, it’s . . . been done.

(Silence.)

LUCIAN: (As a toast) TO US ALL BEING TOGETHER AGAIN!

NORM: FARTER!

LUCIAN: TO ALL OF US BEING HERE WITH EACH OTHER!

NORM: Watch the smoke.

LUCIAN: DRINK!

ARTHUR: Whad you call me?!

LUCIAN: (About a drink) I can have another one.

NORM: CAN’T YOU SEE HE CAN”T BREATHE THAT?!!

LUCIAN: Farty.

(Suddenly, NORM turns on ARTHUR and tackles him to the ground. The following should be brutal.)

(The next 3 lines overlap.)

NORM:

Can’t fuckin breathe!

ARTHUR:

Whad you call me?!

LUCIAN:

You’d take care of me.

NORM: What the fuck are you doing, can’t fuckin . . .

(The next 2 lines overlap.)

NORM:

DON’T KNOW WHAT THE FUCK

YOU’RE DOING.

ARTHUR:

GET OFF ME, WILL YOU

FUCKIN GET OFF ME?

LUCIAN: HOLD IT!

(NORM overturns the table in the room, the lamp on it shatters and the lights go out. The audience now hears the scene better than they can see it—there is only the faint flickering of outside light.)

NORM: YOU DON’T KNOW HOW TO FUCKING CARE FOR HIM,

LUCIAN: STOP THAT!

ARTHUR: QUIT!

LUCIAN: THAT'S ENOUGH!

NORM: DON'T KNOW WHAT THE FUCK YOU’RE DOING!!

ARTHUR: GET OFF ME!

LUCIAN: YOU HEAR ME!

NORM: FUCKING MAKE IT WORSE —

ARTHUR: Turn on the lights . . .

LUCIAN: GET OFF!

NORM: YOU DON’T KNOW —

ARTHUR: My head!

NORM: (About the lights) Turn them on!

LUCIAN: (To NORM) GET UP OFF THE FLOOR!

(ARTHUR’s head is bleeding.)

(ARTHUR tackles NORM.)

ARTHUR: (ARTHUR is bleeding.) Fucking . . .

LUCIAN: Stop it.

NORM: YOU DON'T KNOW HOW . . .

LUCIAN: Get up before I turn them on.

ARTHUR: Bleeding.

LUCIAN: GET HIM UP!

ARTHUR: Turn on the lights.

NORM: CAN'T TAKE CARE OF HIM!

ARTHUR: I’ll get them myself!

LUCIAN: Pull him up!

NORM: You get back here.

(ARTHUR covers his hand in blood and forces into NORM’S face.)

ARTHUR: See that?

NORM: You want me to stop it?!

LUCIAN: STOP IT!

ARTHUR: Fucking blood?!

LUCIAN: THAT'S ENOUGH!

(The next 3 lines overlap).

ARTHUR:

Eat it! Eat that fucking blood!

NORM:

Stop fucker, stop it.

LUCIAN:

Get up both of you.

ARTHUR: Think you’re fuckin gonna kill me?

(Pause.)

(ARTHUR turns on the lights. Both NORM and ARTHUR is bleeding.)

ARTHUR: (To NORM) Thomasia.

NORM: What are you . . .?

ARTHUR: She’s started again!

LUCIAN: No . . .

NORM:
What are you?!

ARTHUR: THE PRICE OF FUCKING LEAVING

NORM: Stupid!

ARTHUR: I’LL TELL YOU SOMETHING!

NORM: SHUT THE FUCK UP! SHUT THE FUCK UP YOU HEAR ME?!

ARTHUR: While she was down there . . .

NORM: You never meant anything to Coach!

ARTHUR: Without him watching her. Thomasia.

NORM: YOU WANT ME TO DO IT AGAIN?!

(NORM tackles ARTHUR again.)

(LUCIAN begins hyperventilating.)

(The next 2 lines overlap.)

NORM:

Don’t you ever say that –

ARTHUR:

How you like it if I do that?

Huh? How about if I do

that?

LUCIAN: (Gasping.) I. CAN’T. LET.

NORM: STARTED AGAIN!?

LUCIAN: YOU. LEAVE. ME!

NORM: Don't you say that . . .

LUCIAN: ALONE.

NORM: Don't say that!

LUCIAN: CAN'T. LEAVE. ME.

(LUCIAN and ARTHUR are on the floor, sprawled out.)

(END OF SCENE)

DRAMA SERIAL: ‘END ZONE’ BY BOB SHUMAN (SCENE 3) · Jul 7th

What follows is the third scene of END ZONE, a play by Bob Shuman; its serialization on Stage Voices will continue to run on Tuesdays for the next two weeks (Scene 1 and Scene 2 were posted on June 23 and June 30; they can also be read in the blog’s archives under: Full-length Plays: Drama Serial).

In the following scene, Lucian is alone with his youngest son.

END ZONE

A Play by Bob Shuman

SCENE:

A motel. It’s about a mile down the road from a prep school in the Northeast.

TIME

A while back, in November. Before dinner.

CHARACTERS:

LUCIAN “LUCE” TRAINER: A legendary prep-school football coach and former dean of the Masters School. Late 70s.

ARTHUR TRAINER: LUCIAN’s youngest son. A freelance composer and percussionist who emphasizes environmental sounds in his work. Late 30s.

NORM TRAINER: LUCIAN’s oldest son. A sporting goods salesman in his late 40s. He has a slight Southern accent.

SCENE 3

9:15 PM. In LUCIAN’s motel room: Papers are strewn all over as LUCIAN has been working on his speech. At rise, he is reciting Shakespeare; ARTHUR is making a call on the motel room phone (the audience will be hearing the electronic sounds the phone makes). The remnants of take-out food lie on the table.

LUCIAN: “Frrrriends . . . Rrrromans . . . . Countrrrymen! Lend me your earrrs!”

ARTHUR: Hmmm.

LUCIAN: “The evil that men do lives after them, the good is often interred with their bones . . .”

ARTHUR: (Hearing something on the phone, listening to receiver.) Oh.

LUCIAN: “So . . . let it be with Caesar.”

ARTHUR: That’s pretty good.

LUCIAN: “The noble Brutus hath told you that Caesar was ambitious;”

ARTHUR: Huh.

LUCIAN: . . . if it were so, it were a grievous fault, and grievously hath Caesar answered it.

(ARTHUR dials his number again–the push-buttons make an annoying high-tech sound.)

(ARTHUR hangs up the phone.)

LUCIAN: “Here, under leave of Brutus and the rest–for Brutus is an honorable man, so are they all, all honorable men–

ARTHUR: (The phone signal is busy.) Heyy.

LUCIAN: Come I to speak in Caesar’s funeral.”

(ARTHUR slams down the phone but picks it up and starts dialing again.)

LUCIAN: “He was my friend, faithful and just . . . to me.”

ARTHUR: (To LUCIAN.) You know the whole thing?

LUCIAN: Course I do. What do you think I am? A football coach?

ARTHUR: Maybe you should put it in the speech. (Rethinking.) No. Let me try Thomasia again. Keep going. . . .

(ARTHUR picks up the phone and starts dialing.)

LUCIAN: “But Brutus says he was ambitious, and Brutus is an honorable man. He hath brought many captives home to Rome, whose ransoms did the general coffers fill;”

ARTHUR: Where is she, Christ?!(Suddenly, leaving a message on the answering machine.) Oh, hiii there, Thomasia. . . . This is Farty, I mean Fart. Norm’s brother, Art, you know, Arthur again

LUCIAN: (Running to his pads.) I gotta mention Thorpe.

ARTHUR: I just was . . . calling to see if you . . . got back yet. We were . . . trying to find the paper with Coach’s speech . . . and thought you might know . . . where it is. . . . So we’d really appreciate your calling. . . . If you get this message . . . thanks so much. Bye.

(HE hangs up the phone.)

LUCIAN: Assisted me all those years.

ARTHUR: Don’t go so fast.

LUCIAN: How could I be forgetting him?

ARTHUR: You gotta take your medication.

LUCIAN: (Scribbling) Jimmy Bligh and Von.

ARTHUR: No more messing around, you’ve been putting it off all night.

LUCIAN: Bobby Talbot.

ARTHUR: . . . We’ve had our dinner now.

LUCIAN: (Writing.) Bobby Talbot, Bobby Talbot. . . . How could I forget. . . ?

ARTHUR: Let me see what we have here.

(ARTHUR is going through LUCIAN's pill case.)

LUCIAN: (Seeing ARTHUR.) Hey, what are you doing in there?

ARTHUR: (About the pills, going through LUCIAN’s dop kit in his luggage.) Get it over with.

LUCIAN: Those are my things.

ARTHUR: (Opening up empty bottles.) What are all these bottles . . .?

LUCIAN: You hear me?

ARTHUR: There aren’t any pills.

LUCIAN: Get out of there.

(ARTHUR finds several vials either empty or almost empty; he shakes them.)

ARTHUR: Where are they?

(LUCIAN begins collecting the bottles.)

LUCIAN: Don’t belong to you.

ARTHUR: I didn't . . .

LUCIAN: You just don’t worry . . .

ARTHUR: Where are your pills?

LUCIAN: Just like Thomasia . . . going through my things . . . don’t know what you’re doing!

ARTHUR: What are you . . . ?

(LUCIAN grabs one of the bottles which has a few remaining pills, swallows them down, goes to get a drink of water. Silence.)

ARTHUR: (Getting LUCIAN a sweater.) Not used to the weather up here.

LUCIAN: I’ll get a sweater if I want it.

ARTHUR: Don’t want you to catch a cold.

LUCIAN: What was I going to write down?

(Silence.)

LUCIAN: (Remembering and going to write it down.) Bobby Talbot, Bobby Talbot.

ARTHUR: Tift said that he might stop by.

LUCIAN: Fullback?

ARTHUR: Piano player.

LUCIAN: Never heard of him.

ARTHUR: Pianist on the CD . . .

LUCIAN: Oh, oh. I don’t know him.

ARTHUR: It was probably . . . well. Maybe . . . four or five years ago now when we did that.

LUCIAN: Norm had it on.

ARTHUR: Clayt liked it.

LUCIAN: (Back to his speech.) Norm was playing that.

ARTHUR: Some drums, huh? Like those drums?

LUCIAN: Thought you were pretty good, is that it?

ARTHUR: (Demonstrating.) I played all the drums, all those off-tempo escalations.

LUCIAN: Norm put it on while I was taking a bath.

ARTHUR: Clayt thinks it sounds like something from Black Mountain in North Carolina.

LUCIAN: Sounded like a . . . . . . cowboy and Indian movie!

(Pause.)

ARTHUR: My CD sounded like a. . . ?

LUCIAN: Some noise.

ARTHUR: Cowboy and Indian movie?

LUCIAN: Sounded like people screaming.

(Pause.)

ARTHUR: Those are periodic and aperiodic shamanistic groupings of beats . . .

LUCIAN: I hear you, Arthur.

ARTHUR: . . . individual tempi that influence changes in heart rate . . .

LUCIAN: That's what you're saying is it?

ARTHUR: . . . and brainwave patterns!

LUCIAN: Don't believe a word of it.

ARTHUR: Do you know how long it took me to. . . ? (ARTHUR's recording would have had the sound of rain in it.) Do you have any idea how long it took me to get the rain right?

(Pause.)

LUCIAN: (Eating several French fries.) I think I’ll try some of those French fries.

ARTHUR: . . . I’ve recently spent months in maternity wards and midwife centers listening to the sounds of birth . . .

(ARTHUR is drumming with his hands now.)

LUCIAN: (About French fries.) Pretty good, aren't they?

ARTHUR: . . . I go to emergency rooms to record death Rattles.

LUCIAN: (Back to the speech.) Now let's see where we were.

ARTHUR: . . . to find acoustic events that can’t be taken back!

LUCIAN: (Finding another piece of paper, to himself.) Here, here it is . . . Jack Duffy, right here in front of you.

ARTHUR: . . . It’s a new series called The Sounds of Irrevocable Actions.

LUCIAN: (To himself, about the speech.) That’s a little better. Put in Duff. (LUCIAN writes a note on his speech.)

ARTHUR: . . . sounds that disturb and assault or can’t even be heard!

LUCIAN: Here we go.

(ARTHUR pounds his fists on the table and screams. The following 4 lines overlap.)

ARTHUR:

ARRRGHHHHHHHH

LUCIAN:

What do you think you're doing?

ARTHUR:

RAAAAAGGGHHHHHHHH

LUCIAN:

We gave you the chance to make something of yourself

crashing around with those things . . .

LUCIAN:

You really don’t think you can get anywhere. . . ?

(Overlapping, ARTHUR does a huge Indian yell.)

LUCIAN: Wake up the whole building.

ARTHUR: (Laughing.) It really is good to see you. . . . I mean, you and me . . .

LUCIAN: Disturb people.

ARTHUR: Always dropping me off . . . one thing I’ve never forgotten . . .

LUCIAN: Why do you have to do that?

ARTHUR: You said we didn’t see eye to eye.

LUCIAN: I know what I’m talking about.

ARTHUR: I always remembered you saying that.

LUCIAN: Don’t understand it.

ARTHUR: I always wondered . . .

LUCIAN: Could never understand . . .

ARTHUR: . . . did you want it that way?

(Silence.)

LUCIAN: Give me your car keys.

ARTHUR: I don’t have any car keys.

LUCIAN: I'll drive.

ARTHUR: I don't have a car.

LUCIAN: We'll go to the rally and get Norm.

ARTHUR: Who said I would let you drive . . . ?

LUCIAN: Norm was supposed to be back here by now.

ARTHUR: . . .even if I had one?

LUCIAN: Of course you have a car.

ARTHUR: Are you out of your mind?

LUCIAN: Everyone has a car . . .

ARTHUR: You can’t drive a car.

LUCIAN: (About NORM.) I don’t see him.

ARTHUR: Coach, listen to me!

LUCIAN: How'd ya get here then?

(Pause.)

ARTHUR: I hitchhiked!

LUCIAN: How'd you get dinner?

ARTHUR: I ran!

LUCIAN: I want Norm to help me with my speech.

ARTHUR: We don't need him!

LUCIAN: You take me down there!

ARTHUR: I'll do it.

LUCIAN: Making it up.

ARTHUR: Whaddaya mean?

LUCIAN: You don't know how to do this.

ARTHUR: Why not?

LUCIAN: Let me do it.

ARTHUR: Why don’t I know how to do it?

LUCIAN: Get out of my way.

(LUCIAN takes his papers and goes to work on them.)

(Silence.)

ARTHUR: I brought clothes, you know.

LUCIAN: You finish eating those French fries.

ARTHUR: Let me show you.

LUCIAN: (Having finished his French fries.) I've had enough.

ARTHUR: I have a coat and tie to wear tomorrow, don’t you worry about me.

(ARTHUR goes to his bags and pulls out a horrendous red-orange suit.)

LUCIAN: (Taking a few more French fries for himself.) You have some more of these French fries.

ARTHUR: (Showing his new tie.) Wait till you see this.

LUCIAN: What's that you've got there?

ARTHUR: Let me show you.

LUCIAN: You're not going to wear that, are you?

ARTHUR: (Showing a skinny, skinny tie.) Silk.

LUCIAN: You can’t wear that . . .

ARTHUR: Beautiful tie, right there.

LUCIAN: Terrible.

ARTHUR: What do you mean? Look at it.

LUCIAN: Looks like hell.

ARTHUR: Latest thing.

LUCIAN: (Talking about Arthur.) Take them off.

ARTHUR: This is a good suit!

LUCIAN: Put them away.

ARTHUR: There’s nothing wrong with this.

(LUCIAN grabs tie.)

LUCIAN: All the money we spent on you.

ARTHUR: Take a look.

LUCIAN: . . . tens of thousands of dollars.

ARTHUR: There's nothing wrong with this.

LUCIAN: Colleges.

ARTHUR: Bought in Chelsea.

LUCIAN: Money, long after I should have stopped giving it to you.

ARTHUR: Beautiful!

LUCIAN: Apartments not worth the good money paid for them . . .

ARTHUR: See this? Designer!

LUCIAN: Classes and more academics. He starts in engineering and decides to be a . . . MUSICIAN.

ARTHUR: (Taking the clothes back.) Give it back to me if you don’t like it then!

(LUCIAN uses his forefinger, pretending to shoot his temple twice with appropriate sound effects.)

ARTHUR: Better than this thrift shop suit Norm wants me to wear.

LUCIAN: (Turning on the TV.) Must be a game on.

ARTHUR: (Showing his clothes.) Better than having a broken fly . . .

(LUCIAN turns on the TV.)

LUCIAN: (Switching channels with the remote. To himself. ) Should be a game on, isn't there?

ARTHUR: (Talking about the clothes NORM gave him.) That isn’t a Mauritizio suit.

LUCIAN: (Still looking for a game) . . . Must be one on here somewhere.

ARTHUR: It’s from Robert Hall. (About the TV.) Too much racket.

LUCIAN: I thought the Dolphins were playing . . .

ARTHUR: Let’s not watch TV.

LUCIAN: Go on and watch it.

ARTHUR: There's nothing wrong with my clothes! I WANT TO TALK TO YOU!

(Not finding the game, LUCIAN turns off the TV. THEY face one another. Silence.)

ARTHUR: . . . I had an appointment with Clayt a few months ago.

LUCIAN: The only reason I keep giving you things was because of your mother . . .

ARTHUR: There’s a job for me

here in the spring. . . .

LUCIAN: She made me promise her.

ARTHUR: As part of the faculty

LUCIAN: You didn't even attend her funeral . . .

(the mother’s name🙂 Rose Mary . . .

(Silence.)

ARTHUR: (About his store purchases.) I thought you’d like the Old Fizgerald and lemon, I brought you.

LUCIAN: Couldn’t go anywhere without her when you were little.

ARTHUR: They think I know something about music even!

LUCIAN: Don’t show up on my doorstep.

ARTHUR: I never thought Clayt would be the one to support it.

LUCIAN: I know all about it.

ARTHUR: WHY WEREN'T THERE ANY PILLS IN THOSE BOTTLES?!

LUCIAN: . . . Drifting from one place to another and after a while you won’t even be able to stop doing that!

ARTHUR: This is what I get for telling you about the job . . .

LUCIAN: You couldn’t be part of this school . . . wouldn’t know what you’re doing . . . all hours, weekends, driving them in busses to games, carting them to church, offering them words of . . . when they’ve fallen seven flights of stairs . . . when they die . . .

(A bell, the campus bell, chimes ten times. Silence. ARTHUR takes his new tie and puts it around LUCIAN'S neck, lightly pulling it back.)

ARTHUR: I know what I was to you.

LUCIAN: You don’t know anything about me.

ARTHUR: A dog, a pet, or something.

LUCIAN: What it was like for me.

ARTHUR: Something that got forgotten.

LUCIAN: Don’t know where I came from.

ARTHUR: That’s what I was.

LUCIAN: Don’t know anything!

ARTHUR: Wipe his nose. Pull up his pants. Leave him in a parking lot.

LUCIAN: Making it up!

ARTHUR: . . . I started running away, you remember that? Seven, eight years old maybe.

LUCIAN: Needed to be toughened up.

ARTHUR: It was better than waiting for someone to come home.

(Silence.)

ARTHUR: The guy who painted in the boiler room . . .

LUCIAN: I don’t know what you’re talking about.

ARTHUR: . . . Dwight– master of oil and canvas. Always in the dark, waiting for his pictures to dry . . .

LUCIAN: Don’t even know what you’re talking about!

ARTHUR: Painting without models; used dirty magazines instead.

(Pause.)

LUCIAN: Always getting lost.

ARTHUR: Building a yard, carting sand and bricks in the wheelbarrow.

LUCIAN: You’re too old to be talking like this.

ARTHUR: Ivy, mountain laurel, replica Greek Stauary, the Brussels “Statue of Piss!”

LUCIAN: You’re thirty-seven years old.

ARTHUR: You could never wait to get rid of me!

(ARTHUR flings the tie away. )

LUCIAN: Grown man like you.

ARTHUR: I don’t care what anybody thinks—mi ’aswell teach like you wanted, Coach. Been fired four times, I keep telling people the truth!

LUCIAN: You’re not a little boy anymore.

ARTHUR: (About the drink.) Old Fitzgerald and lemonade, you can have one drink. The truth is you liked that I kept running away.

LUCIAN: Looking up at me, into my eyes.

ARTHUR: I’m supposed to watch you two from the magnolia tree. Rhododendron being planted. Pretend I’m sweeping leaves. “Don’t come over here, stay over there, get out of the way!” No more power-house trips, no more rafting, no more hikes across the bridge. Drifting farther off on the hot grass, and . . .

LUCIAN: What did you think I would be able to give you?

ARTHUR: . . . walk right into town, just like that, past bullies and vagrants, Mr. Jackson delivering groceries, end up petting the Dalmatian in the firehouse. (About the drink.) This is too sweet! they don’t make that kind of lemonade, looked all over for it. Shoulda gotten mint.

(Pause.)

I was so afraid you were going to die, Coach. I don’t know why. There wasn’t anything wrong with you, I just found out people . . . die. Mom in India studying the Taj Mahal. Norm says when that number comes up you’re on your own . . . you were all we had.

LUCIAN: Everyone makes their own life.

ARTHUR: Out to the overpass to break bottles. Balancing on planks at the lumber yard.

LUCIAN: You were old enough to take care of yourself.

ARTHUR: You and me were playing hide and seek except you didn’t know about it..

LUCIAN: Can’t worry about it now.

ARTHUR: Flatten coins on the tracks, pumping my arm up and down for the conductors to blow the whistle. Over to the woods where that boy and girl from the high school committed suicide . . . Rumors among the faculty, Dwight molested a kid.

(Pause.)

LUCIAN: I don’t know what you’re talking about.

ARTHUR:(In his father’s voice.) “Don’t know what’s the matter with you, become a nuisance!”

LUCIAN: I know what you’re trying to do.

ARTHUR: You grab my hand tight.

LUCIAN: Don’t know what you’re saying.

ARTHUR: Sometimes picking me up, walking so fast, “get you home.”

LUCIAN: I never did anything to you.

ARTHUR: Past cookouts and 4-H clubs, ghosts in the graveyard. Back to the construction of maximum security pen–destined to become the place where I’d be dumped after school while teams made championships and Mother’s Anthropology clubs won prizes.

LUCIAN: Don’t you talk about her!

ARTHUR: To think that your continually growing creation of intricately designed

Brickwork with window boxes, slate landings, mini-turrets, a sundial, and birdbath–even an ice-skating area, as well as white picket fencing—should have been built to rein in one lousy pain-in-the ass kid!

LUCIAN: WHAT’S WRONG WITH YOU?!

ARTHUR: (Pause.) It really wasn’t though, was it?

LUCIAN: WHAT HAPPENED TO YOU!

ARTHUR: It wasn’t for Mom—

LUCIAN: STOP TALKING ABOUT HER!

ARTHUR: . . and it wasn’t even for sitting outside—

LUCIAN: Stop talking about her.

ARTHUR: . . . and having bourbon and lemonade. It was something during a summer;

demonstrating the deep bonding between a father and son:

you and Norm. (Pause.)

Come on, let’s get you set up! One drink isn’t going to hurt you.

This is a celebration. To Clayt offering me a job, back here

for the spring. (Silence.)

LUCIAN: After all you were given . . .

ARTHUR: I want to visit Dwight.

LUCIAN: You never used to act like this . . .

ARTHUR: Purples, dark canvases, umbers.

LUCIAN: Not when you were little . . .

ARTHUR: My days are numbered . . .

LUCIAN: That’s enough now . . . .

ARTHUR: . . . the new yard almost complete . . . (Pause.)

LUCIAN: We’ve heard enough . . .

ARTHUR: I know the route where I won’t get caught–find a feather, blow a

dandelion’s top off.

LUCIAN: Stop now, that’s enough, I said.

ARTHUR: Past the Quonset huts, across the campus gravel walks.

LUCIAN: None of that is true!

ARTHUR: (Suddenly, loud.) “HEY! YOU GET OUT

OF THERE!”

LUCIAN: YOU HAVE TO LEARN TO TAKE

CARE OF YOURSELF.

ARTHUR: (As if seeing him:) Norm.

LUCIAN: STOP THAT NOW, LEAVE US ALONE!!

ARTHUR: Both of us stop. (Pause.)

He knows where I’m headed.

LUCIAN: DEMON!

ARTHUR: Chasing me, blood pulsing through my neck.

LUCIAN: Stop looking at me.

ARTHUR: “DOWN BY THE LAKE!” Running me down, shoving me, on top.

LUCIAN: STOP LOOKING AT ME, I SAID.

ARTHUR: Pulling, won’t let me go, I’m falling, pushing me.

LUCIAN: GET AWAY FROM ME, GO IN THE OTHER ROOM!

ARTHUR: It’s you! Heard him. Hold my hand, dragging me,

find rope, I’m biting.

Against the magnolia, “Put him up there.”

Norm telling me to “eat that bark.”

No wonder somebody called the cops!

Tying, pulling it tighter!

No wonder they called!

“Won’t run away again!”

Vomit across the sidewalk.

I can’t breathe . . . like now!

I’m glad somebody called . . .

I’m glad they saw it. (Pause.)

I wanted you to die.

(ARTHUR throws the glass, shattering it.)

(LUCIAN’s cell-phone rings. LUCIAN starts into the other motel room–the

one where NORM will be sleeping that night.)

LUCIAN: Thomasia? Thank you for calling. . . . I was . . .

I was wondering if you could look . . .

seemed to have left my speech for the dedication. . . .

(ARTHUR goes to LUCIAN’s drafts of the speech.

He ends up on the floor reading them.)

LUCIAN: (On phone.) Yes, in the envelope . . .

(Pause.)

LUCIAN: Please open it if you’d be so kind.

ARTHUR: (Picking one of the papers.) What is this?

LUCIAN: It’s not a good time for me to talk.

ARTHUR: (As he reads.) What is it?

LUCIAN: There's someone here.

ARTHUR: “Yellow hand, wax mouth.”

LUCIAN: Arthur’s with me.

ARTHUR: “dried sweat . . .”

LUCIAN: I didn’t know Norm had contacted him about coming back.

ARTHUR: (Not understanding what he’s reading.) Hey, what is this?

LUCIAN: (To THOMASIA.) I can’t talk about the other now.

ARTHUR: It’s all gibberish.

LUCIAN: (On phone.) Excuse me, I have to close the door.

ARTHUR: (Seeing LUCIAN close the door.)

Doesn’t make any sense.

LUCIAN: . . . he's outside the door.

ARTHUR: “My corpse lies on the truck like yellow . . . wax.”

LUCIAN: Norm isn’t back yet . . .

ARTHUR: IT DOESN’T MEAN ANYTHING!

LUCIAN: They’re my medications.

(ARTHUR is crawling on the floor with LUCIAN’S papers.)

ARTHUR: . . . “his mind is infected with the fever . . . ”

LUCIAN: They’re my painkillers!

ARTHUR: “of a fallen man . . .”

LUCIAN: I was watching you!

(Silence.)

(ARTHUR goes to the door between the bedrooms,

knocking on it, opening it a bit.)

ARTHUR: Everything all right in there, Coach?

LUCIAN: (To ARTHUR) . . . Go on, go in the other room!

ARTHUR: You sure?

LUCIAN: YES, FINE!

(Silence.)

LUCIAN: (Back on phone.) Please read me the speech.

(ARTHUR partially closes the door.

HE listens to LUCIAN's phone call.)

LUCIAN: (On phone, like an explosion) NO,

YOU'RE THE ONE,

YOU’RE THE ONE WHO STARTED . . .

TAKING MY PILLS, STOP TRYING TO MAKE

UP LIKE YOU DON’T KNOW. . .

YOU'RE THE ONE TELLING HIM,

YOU’RE THE ONE DOING IT . . .

WANT HIM TO PUT ME AWAY, YOU’D

LIKE THAT, WOULDN’T YOU!

(Pause.)

LUCIAN: Norm doesn't have to tell me you're taking them,

FIND YOUR OWN MONEY,

GET YOUR OWN—I CAN HEAR IT

IN YOUR VOICE,

I KNOW BY THE WAY THAT YOU’RE TALKING WHAT YOU’RE DOING.

HE CAN HEAR IT,

HE KNOWS WHAT YOU’RE DOING,

OF COURSE HE CAN HEAR IT—

IN YOUR VOICE– !

(Dial tone of the cell-phone. Thomasia has hangs up. LUCIAN turns and sees ARTHUR.)

LUCIAN: (Seeing Arthur.) . . . How long have you been standing there?

ARTHUR: Coach.

LUCIAN: I ASKED YOU

HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN THERE?!

(ARTHUR does not answer.)

LUCIAN: How long you been listening?

How long you been watching?

How long you been watching me?

What did you hear?

(The high-pitched sound of a busy signal.)

(END OF SCENE)

DRAMA SERIAL: ‘END ZONE’ BY BOB SHUMAN (SCENE 2) · Jun 30th

What follows is the second scene of END ZONE, a play by Bob Shuman; its serialization on Stage Voices will continue to run on Tuesdays for the next three weeks (Scene 1 was posted June 23 and can also be read in the blog’s archives under: Full-length Plays: Drama Serial).

In the following scene, Lucian’s oldest son is getting ready to go to the headmaster’s dinner. )

END ZONE

A Play by Bob Shuman

SCENE:

A motel. It’s about a mile down the road from a prep school in the Northeast.

TIME

A while back, in November. Before dinner.

CHARACTERS:

LUCIAN “LUCE” TRAINER: A legendary prep-school football coach and former dean of the Masters School. Late 70s.

ARTHUR TRAINER: LUCIAN’s youngest son. A freelance composer and percussionist who emphasizes environmental sounds in his work. Late 30s.

NORM TRAINER: LUCIAN’s oldest son. A sporting goods salesman in his late 40s. He has a slight Southern accent.

Scene 2

6: 30 PM. LUCIAN'S motel room. NORM, who has just taken a shower and is in his underwear, is on the floor tickling LUCIAN. In the next room, ARTHUR is reading from the school bulletin wearing NORM's clothes.

(LUCIAN and NORM are laughing.)

NORM: . . . I think that’s what it is . . .

LUCIAN: No. . . . No.

NORM: . . . I think you’re really ticklish!

LUCIAN: Stop it!

NORM: I don’t want you faking.

LUCIAN: I’m not ticklish!

(LUCIAN is laughing.)

ARTHUR: (From the other room.) . . . Pep rally tonight.

LUCIAN: (Laughing.) You hear me?!

ARTHUR: Boys, boys.

LUCIAN: That tickles!

ARTHUR: I don’t think that’s what we had in mind.

(LUCIAN is roaring with laughter.)

LUCIAN: LET ME GO . . . WILL YA!?

(ARTHUR gets up and enters into LUCIAN's motel room snapping a towel.)

ARTHUR: All right, all right . . .

LUCIAN: . . . STOP IT!

NORM: Tickle, tickle.

ARTHUR: Break it up, break it up.

NORM: Let me get your belly

LUCIAN: THAT'S ENOUGH NOW!!

NORM: You want me to stop?!!

(The next two lines overlap.)

LUCIAN:

Yeeessss!

ARTHUR:

You heard what I said.

(Pause.)

NORM: No.

ARTHUR: If I’m going to take care of him tonight . . .

LUCIAN: I CAN’T BREATHE!

NORM: Say the goddamn, fucking . . . !

(The next three lines overlap.)

NORM: :

You want me to let you up?

You have to say the speech.

LUCIAN:

I’m not going to!

ARTHUR: YOU BETTER DO

WHAT I SAY!

LUCIAN: Never!

(The next two lines overlap.)

NORM:

I'm allowed to tickle you . . .

ARTHUR:

WHY WON’T YOU JUST SAY IT?

(They’re ALL laughing like crazy.)

LUCIAN: Look out . . . !

(The next three lines overlap.)

NORM:

I didn't do anything.

LUCIAN:

All right, all right.

ARTHUR:

There isn't anything the

matter with that.

LUCIAN: I’LL SAY THE SPEECH!

NORM: WHAT?!

LUCIAN: I SAID I’D SAY IT.

NORM: What did you say?

LUCIAN: JUST LET ME GO, WILL YA?!

(The next three lines overlap.)

NORM:

Promise. You have to promise.

LUCIAN:

I’m serious.

ARTHUR:

You’re really going to say the speech?

LUCIAN: You have to let me get up.

(LUCIAN gets up, NORM and ARTHUR are snapping their towels at each other. LUCIAN escapes and bolts.)

ARTHUR: GET HIM!

LUCIAN: I’m not doing anything.

(The next two lines overlap.)

ARTHUR:

WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU’RE

DOING, GET BACK HERE!

NORM:

FREEZE!

LUCIAN:

You have to give me an introduction, don’t you?!

(The next two lines overlap.)

NORM: HEYYYY . . .

ARTHUR: What are you talking about?

NORM: I HAVE TO TELL CLAYT IN 45 MINUTES!

LUCIAN: I need an introduction . . .

ARTHUR: Don’t you try anything.

NORM: Clayt wants to know how it’s coming along.

LUCIAN: Course I need an introduction.

NORM: "8:00 pm Lucian Trainer Pep rally!"

LUCIAN: (Getting away.) How else am I going to do the speech?

NORM: Tomorrow morning. "7:00 am. Prayer breakfast," Reverend Jenks and Coach!

LUCIAN: I need a big build up . . .

NORM: Farts, will you give him the introduction?!

ARTHUR: TONIGHT!

NORM: IT’S TOMORROW AT THE DEDICATION OF THE FIELD, NOT TONIGHT.

ARTHUR: Right, right.

LUCIAN: I'm not going to do a speech without an introduction.

NORM: Tomorrow afternoon, 2:00.

ARTHUR: HERE HE IS!

NORM: "Home game against Blair with half time dedication . . . DOESN’T ANYBODY KNOW ANYTHING?!

ARTHUR: Man of the hour, man of the moment.

NORM: . . . to Lucian Trainer and recipient speech!"

ARTHUR: Man for all seasons!

LUCIAN: (About ARTHUR's introduction.) Bigger.

NORM: (To LUCIAN.) You better watch your step.

LUCIAN: I thought I was the best coach this school ever had.

ARTHUR: (Trying out the introduction.) . . . and now!!

NORM: (Changing direction, analyzing.) . . . He's right. Needs a little more.

ARTHUR: (Trying to give the introduction.) HERE HE IS!!

NORM: Needs a bigger introduction.

ALL:

Masters School football great.

LUCIAN: That’s better.

(The next three speeches overlap.)

NORM:

Legendary football coach, Lucian Trainer.

ARTHUR:

LUCIAN! THE ARM! TRAINER!

DRUM ROLL, MAESTRO!!

(ARTHUR makes a drum roll

sound on the table with his hands.)

LUCIAN: LET ME HEAR YA!

NORM: I need a drink!

(The next three speeches overlap.)

NORM:

The man.

The event.

The man with the message.

ARTHUR:

Ladies and Gentlemen!

What you see before youmay

disturb you . . .

LUCIAN: I’m waving, I’m waving at the crowd.

(NORM goes to make a drink.)

(The next three speeches overlap.)

NORM:

(Sincere as

he begins to

mix drinks.)

Two State Championships.

Undefeated 1950 season.

ARTHUR:

Standing up.

Can’t conain . . .

Going wild!

LUCIAN:

Need a big Introduction.

Of course, I’m right.

ARTHUR: Won’t you please join me in welcoming Lucian Trainer back to the Masters School . . . !

(ARTHUR and NORM point at LUCIAN to begin the speech.)

LUCIAN: . . . Aaaa. (Having forgotten the speech.)

ARTHUR: . . . IN ALMOST 20 YEARS!

NORM: Say it!

(Stop. Pause.)

ARTHUR: . . . You want more!?

NORM: Razza-dazz. Razza, dazza, dazza dazz.

LUCIAN: . . . Can't . . .

ARTHUR: TAKE IT AWAY!

NORM: OK, OK.

ARTHUR: YOU’RE ON!

LUCIAN: . . . remember . . .

NORM: (Helping.) “I’m . . . so . . . happy . . . to . . . be . . .”

LUCIAN: . . . Must a . . .

ARTHUR: HERE HE IS, PLEASE JOIN ME IN WELCOMING LUCIAN TRAINER BACK TO THE . . . !

LUCIAN: Don't know how it . . . .

ARTHUR: MASTERS SCHOOL . . .

NORM: “Invited back today . . . “

LUCIAN: Lost it . . .

(Silence.)

NORM: What do you mean?

LUCIAN: I don't . . .

NORM: You were practicing in the breezeway

LUCIAN: Can’t . . .

NORM: I heard you in the middle of the night.

LUCIAN: Just had it.

NORM: You couldn't have lost it.

(Silence.)

ARTHUR: You can't remember it?

NORM: Gotta get tough here.

(NORM tears through the luggage.)

ARTHUR: You have to remember your speech.

NORM: Gotta get serious.

ARTHUR: It couldn't have just disappeared into thin air.

NORM: That speech must be around here somewhere.

ARTHUR: (Suddenly, getting an idea:) The car.

NORM: Just say the fuckin speech!

ARTHUR: I’ll try to find it in the car.

NORM: I thought you had it memorized!

ARTHUR: I’m coming back . . .

NORM: (Pulling apart the suitcases.) Find it and read it!

ARTHUR: Clayt wants to know what you’re gonna say!

NORM: He’s gonna be asking me, WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO TELL HIM?!

LUCIAN: (Pondering, about the speech.) Where did I put it?

NORM: I gotta get to dinner, look what time it is?

ARTHUR: I’ll be right back.

NORM: (Nice.) Oh, I’m sorry, Farts.

ARTHUR: See ya in a few minutes.

NORM: (Polite.) Would you do me a favor before you go?

ARTHUR: (Snapping out of it.) Oh, a sure, Norm. What's that?

NORM: (Very polite.) I wanted you to take the keys to the car, so you can unlock the door!

ARTHUR: Oh, a, right.

NORM: Take the wheelchair, too, while you’re at it. . . .

ARTHUR: Right, right . . .

NORM: So we’ll know where it is tomorrow when we can’t fucking find where the fuck it is!

(ARTHUR gets the wheelchair, exits. Pause. NORM gets dressed.)

NORM: I gotta get dressed, I gotta get moving here.

LUCIAN: (About the missing speech.) I'm sorry about this, I . . ..

NORM: I’m supposed to be there.

ARTHUR: Let me get the wheelchair.

NORM: Clayt wants me there at quarter to seven . . .

LUCIAN: It'll come to me.

NORM: He doesn't have the fucking speech.

LUCIAN: (Trying to stop NORM'S bad language.) Hey, hey, hey.

NORM: I thought you had it!

LUCIAN: That’s enough now.

NORM: I needed to shave.

LUCIAN: . . . Don't have to use that kind of language!

NORM: Name your first team captain! 1942!

(Pause.)

LUCIAN: First team captain. . .

(Pause.)

NORM: Tiny Thompson.

LUCIAN: Tiny Thompson.

NORM: You must really be falling apart, Trainer . . .

LUCIAN: . . . weighed 287 pounds.

NORM: . . . can't remember your first team captain.

(NORM mixes another drink. Pause.)

LUCIAN: I told you I didn't want to come back here!!

NORM: GET FARTS DOWN TO GEORGIA, YOU'LL STILL HAVE THE GOOD WEATHER FOR YOU HEALTH– HE CAN TAKE CARE OF YOU, FOR CHRIST SAKES!

(Silence.)

LUCIAN: You don't start drinking.

NORM: Don't tell me what I have to do.

LUCIAN: I don't want you drinking, now, you heard me.

NORM: What you have to do is . . .

LUCIAN: Makes me mad.

NORM: Get him down there!

LUCIAN: You don't have to–

NORM: Yes, I do! Yes, I do! I’ll drink if I want! I don’t care if you don’t! What are you doing tellin me . . . ?!

LUCIAN: (About HIS speech.) I know I had it with me . . .

(NORM takes a huge swig of bourbon from the bottle.)

NORM: . . . My wife’s in AA . . .

LUCIAN: (Trying to remember his speech.) "I want to thank everyone . . . "

NORM: . . . Incontinent father who thinks his wife talks to him from the dead. . .

LUCIAN: ". . . So happy you could all come out here today."

NORM: . . . a brother who comes out from underneath a rock!

LUCIAN: (Still trying to remember speech.) No, no. That's not it.

NORM: (Unimpressed.) I get the chance to introduce you at half-time?!

LUCIAN: (Trying to make up speech.) "I want to thank everyone . . .

NORM: (For his coat pocket.) I need a handkerchief.

(LUCIAN continues looking for his speech as he picks up the scattered clothes.)

LUCIAN: . . . for coming out here today. . ."

NORM: Starts Thomasia all over . . .

LUCIAN: . . . No, no, no. I have to mention your mother first.

NORM: START HER ALL OVER AGAIN!

(Pause.)

LUCIAN: Go along with you now.

NORM: SHE TAKES ALL YOUR MEDICATION!

LUCIAN: You just keep going!

NORM: ON DRUGS!

LUCIAN: I WATCH HER.

NORM: Not well enough, apparently—

LUCIAN: I LOCK MY PRESCRIPTIONS UP, I PUT THEM AWAY!

(Silence.)

NORM: Come on, you're coming with me to the dinner.

(Pause.)

NORM: Didn't you hear what I just said?

LUCIAN: No, sir . . .

NORM: Finish getting dressed.

LUCIAN: . . . not me.

NORM: I'm tired of talking about it.

LUCIAN: Go on if you want.

NORM: Put your clothes on. Of course they fucked you over, what do you want them to do?

LUCIAN: (About Clayton.) I told you I wasn't going to see Clayton!

NORM: I’m tired of talking about it.

LUCIAN: You knew I didn't want to come here.

NORM: Hurry up, do what I say!

LUCIAN: (Remembering his past at the Dean's office.) You're the one who wants to come back.

NORM: You say to him, "Clayt, give my boy the job!"

LUCIAN: I shouldn't be here!

NORM: They owe it to you.

LUCIAN: I don't belong here anymore.

NORM: Of course, you belong here, it's your—it’s OUR– home!

(Silence.)

LUCIAN: (Remembering the day he was fired.) I saw Clayton that morning . . .

NORM: "Give it to my boy."

LUCIAN: Walking up to me after not even seeing for weeks. . .

NORM: . . . All you have to say.

(Silence.)

NORM: I know what you’re thinking . . .

LUCIAN: (Remembering the day he was fired.) . . . I know what’s happening.

NORM: (NORM helps LUCIAN get dressed.) You’d do that for me, wouldn’t you?

LUCIAN: (Still in memory, reliving his firing.) . . . Clayton doesn't shake my hand.

NORM: . . . . Doesn't matter after so many years.

LUCIAN: (As if talking to Clayt.) "What's wrong, ?"

NORM: It’s twenty years ago!

LUCIAN: (As if talking to Clayt.) "It's me, Lucian.”

NORM: Do you know how many people. . . GET FIRED. . . !? FOR THINGS . . . THEY’VE NO CONTROL OVER, THROW THEM IN THE STREET WITH ABSOLUTELY NOTHING?!

(Pause.)

NORM: You were too old.

LUCIAN: At least you could shake my hand.

NORM: They didn’t like you.

LUCIAN: (Coming out of the past.) I WAS NOT TOO OLD!

(Silence.)

NORM: Jenks is the problem.

LUCIAN: I coached Clayton.

NORM: I know what it is.

LUCIAN: Zant bragging he'd get my job.

NORM: Doesn’t surprise me.

LUCIAN: Shake my hand!

NORM: They're going to give me the director's . . .

LUCIAN: (Still at his firing.) I’ve watched all of you.

NO RM: Listen to me. They’re going to give me the alumni director’s position.

LUCIAN: I see what you do!

NORM: This is important, Coach.

LUCIAN: . . . I’ve been very loyal . . .

NORM: Not just as a representative.

LUCIAN: I’ve been at The Masters School forty years.

NORM: They want me to be the Director of Alumni.

(Pause.)

NORM: Clayt wants me to have it!

LUCIAN: . . . Alumni?

NORM: Alumni Director.

LUCIAN: Don't know what you're . . .

NORM: They’re givin’ it to me Coach.

LUCIAN: . . . talking about . . .

NORM: The Big Cigar!

(Silence.)

LUCIAN: They lie to you.

NORM: THEY’RE NOT LYING TO ME!

LUCIAN: I won’t listen to this . . ..

NORM: . . . They lied to you!

(Silence.)

NORM: . . . A Christmas card from Jenks. The one he sends you: "In hopes of finding strength for the year to come."

(Pause.)

LUCIAN: (To Norm, about working the job.) How are you going to do a job?

NORM: . . . That’s a lie . . .

LUCIAN: How will you do that?!

NORM: I don’t see why you’re so friendly with Jenks!

(Pause.)

NORM: It was Jenks who led the vote to have you taken out!

LUCIAN: No!

NORM: He did!

LUCIAN: You don’t know what you’re talking about!

NORM: Clayt told me he blackballed you!

LUCIAN: Don’t know . . .

NORM: Jenks is not your friend!

LUCIAN: (Faltering.) Jenks would not.

NORM: He was never your friend!

(Silence. NORM puts on his own coat and goes to LUCIAN.)

NORM: Get up.

LUCIAN: I worked here my whole life . . .

NORM: We're going to be late.

LUCIAN: Got up every day . . .

NORM: Come on.

LUCIAN: Till I looked like someone in my job, thought like someone in my job, till you couldn’t see me as anything else than my job . . .

NORM: You hear me!

LUCIAN: (As if talking to Clayt.) “You’re trying to get me out, Clayton?!” Sneaking behind my back. I wiped your nose . . . !

NORM: Do what I say.

(Pause.)

NORM: You don't think I would . . .

LUCIAN: I know you would do it!

NORM: I would put you in these places, I would put you in that center, so help me!

(LUCIAN grabs hold of NORM, spitting in his face. It is sudden and disgusting and LUCIAN will not let go of NORM, virtually climbing on him.)

LUCIAN: This is what you want them to see?

NORM: . . . Stop that!

LUCIAN: (As he's spitting.) This is what you want them to see of me at this dedication?!

NORM: . . . Get it off of me.

LUCIAN: Look at it!

NORM: (Repulsed.) Owwf.

LUCIAN: This is what you're talking about!

NORM: Get off!

LUCIAN: Look at me!

NORM: . . . What are you doing?!

LUCIAN: You won't get it, you won’t get this job.

NORM: It’s all over me!

LUCIAN: You think they would give it to you?!

NORM: Jesus!

LUCIAN: You’re not smart enough, what people do you know?.

NORM: You get it all over!

LUCIAN: Don’t tell me, I know it!

NORM: Stop it!

LUCIAN: What school did you go to?

NORM: . . . I said stop it!

LUCIAN: They want someone to tell what to do. Someone to kiss their ass, to make fun of and talk about behind their backs! Deciding what’s to be done with you until they can get you out for somebody else . . .

NORM: It’s no worse than what I have.

LUCIAN: Until someone’s younger than you or smarter than you or thinks they deserve more and wipes your face in what you’ve had to build—DESTROY YOUR SOUL. LISTEN TO WHAT I SAY!

(Pause.)

LUCIAN: I was made into the same!

(NORM turns away.)

(END OF SCENE)

DRAMA SERIAL: ‘END ZONE’ BY BOB SHUMAN · Jun 23rd

(On Tuesdays, for the next five weeks, END ZONE, a play by Bob Shuman, will be serialized on the Stage Voices blog. It was first developed at Hunter College and then given readings at The Lark Play Development Center and Second Stage Theatre. It is excerpted in two anthologies from Applause Theatre and Cinema Books. In the first scene, a father and his two sons are reunited after eight years. )

END ZONE

A Play by Bob Shuman

SCENE:

A motel. It’s about a mile down the road from a prep school in the Northeast.

TIME

A while back, in November. Before dinner.

CHARACTERS:

LUCIAN “LUCE” TRAINER: A legendary prep-school football coach and former dean of the Masters School. Late 70s.

ARTHUR TRAINER: LUCIAN’s youngest son. A freelance composer and percussionist who emphasizes environmental sounds in his work. Late 30s.

NORM TRAINER: LUCIAN’s oldest son. A sporting goods salesman in his late 40s. He has a slight Southern accent.

ACT 1

SCENE 1

(Norm helps Arthur fix his pants.)

ARTHUR: Jesus Christ.

NORM: Get out of the way so I can look.

ARTHUR: I can’t get it to catch.

NORM: Will you stop moving so I can see?

ARTHUR: I knew this would happen.

NORM: What the hell did you do to it?

ARTHUR: I told you I didn’t want to wear it.

NORM: This is a Mauritzio suit.

ARTHUR: Haven’t even seen the guy in—

NORM: Got the whole fly coming apart.

ARTHUR: You’re the one who wanted to arm wrestle.

NORM: Eight years! It’s been eight years since you’ve seen him.

(Arthur furiously tries to fix the fly again.)

ARTHUR: Where is this mother?!

NORM: So you gotta act right this weekend.

ARTHUR: Get this clasp . . . .

NORM: Your father spent forty years at this school.

ARTHUR: . . . so I can zip . . . up . . .

NORM: Somebody better recognize him.

ARTHUR: . . . my . . . pants . . .

NORM: MY pants.

ARTHUR: . . . get these runners . . .

NORM: Just get him over to the campus in the morning.

ARTHUR: . . . like THAT.

(Pause. The fly is fixed. Norm looks at Arthur, unbelieving.)

NORM: You’re kidding.

ARTHUR: (About the pants.) You can take them back to the thrift shop when you get home.

NORM: You actually got that to work?

ARTHUR: Got all this baggage.

NORM: You need to go through it.

ARTHUR: I could beat you if we arm wrestled.

NORM: Can’t even talk to him.

(Pause. Norm takes the CD Arthur has been wrapping.)

ARTHUR: What do you think you’re doing?

NORM: I need it for Clayt.

ARTHUR: That’s not for him.

NORM: He saw you playing the industrial piping in New Hope.

ARTHUR: I want it back.

NORM: Quite the musical aficionado, this headmaster.

ARTHUR: It’s for Coach.

NORM: I don’t want to hear about you being an artist, we’ve all seen how far you’ve come with that.

LUCIAN: (From his bed, in his sleep.) Who you talking to?

ARTHUR: Coach.

NORM: (Suddenly.) He’s up.

LUCIAN: Who’s that?

NORM: You woke him.

ARTHUR: (Calling.) You all right, Coach?

NORM: Be quiet, will ya!

ARTHUR: Should we get him?

NORM: Shut. Up!

ARTHUR: (Quietly.) Is that you, Coach?

(Silence. Norm checks on Lucian.)

NORM: He’ll sleep a little longer. . . .

(Norm drinks—a diet soda he’s put a shot of alcohol in.)

ARTHUR: I’d like to help but . . .

NORM: I really don’t think . . .

ARTHUR: I don’t have any money. . . .

NORM: . . . it’s worth talking about

ARTHUR: You keep bringing it up.

NORM: Pull up your pants!

ARTHUR: I’m out of work.

(Pause.)

I could beat you!

NORM: Yeah, right.

ARTHUR: I don’t want to beat an old man.

NORM: I’ll kill you!

ARTHUR: That’s my CD!

NORM: Send him another one.

ARTHUR: Last one’s for Coach!

NORM: That’s mine!

(Norm and Arthur begin arm wrestling, grunting and groaning through their dialogue.)

NORM: (NORM’S wife is named Tom-asia–like the continent.) My wife–Thomasia can’t take it—

ARTHUR: You said you’d take care of him—

NORM: We need you to help us—

ARTHUR: He can’t come to New York—

NORM: Then move back to Georgia.

ARTHUR: You know what it would be like?

NORM: I can’t pay taxes.

ARTHUR: You can’t expect me—

NORM: I haven’t paid my taxes in two years.

ARTHUR: Bullshit.

NORM: You’re dead!

(Norm slams down Arthur’s hand on the table and wins.)

ARTHUR: That’s not fair.

NORM: Beat ya!

(Pause.)

ARTHUR: You lied!

NORM: His bawling and moaning and his emphysema, flushing his medication down the toilet.

ARTHUR: You pay your taxes. . . .

NORM: Everything I’m telling you is true.

LUCIAN: You’re here, aren’t ya, Norm?

NORM: (To ARTHUR.) Don’t believe me.

(NORM goes to help LUCIAN; LUCIAN sits on the edge of the bed. He is sick and looks old.)

LUCIAN: Who’s talking like that?

NORM: (Going to help LUCIAN.) There we go. That’s a little better.

LUCIAN: (Groggy.) Thought I lost you . . .

NORM: You warm enough?

LUCIAN: You went away, boy.

NORM: I don’t want you to get cold. (Finding a sweater for LUCIAN.)

LUCIAN: Didn’t know where you went . . .

NORM: (With sweater.) Let’s get this around you.

LUCIAN: (About the sweater.) Nothing wrong with me.

(Pause.)

ARTHUR: . . . Coach.

LUCIAN: This weather’s good for you.

NORM: Somebody’s come to visit you.

(Pause.)

LUCIAN: I don’t want to see ‘em.

NORM: This guy here came all the way to see how you were doin’, Coach.

LUCIAN: Tell ‘em to go away.

NORM: It's all right. It’s nobody that matters.

LUCIAN: They don’t want to see me.

ARTHUR: Do you know who it is?

NORM: (To ARTHUR.) Don’t you get him all excited now . . .

ARTHUR: (Coming forward.) Recognize me, Coach?

NORM: I said I don’t want you getting him all upset!

(Silence.)

NORM: It’s Arthur, Coach. Arthur.

(ARTHUR steps forward, not knowing what to say. Pause.)

ARTHUR: You hear it might . . . .snow?

NORM: What?

ARTHUR: I heard it might snow.

NORM: Who said that?

ARTHUR: That’s what they said.

NORM: It’s not going to snow.

ARTHUR: On the radio.

NORM: Get out of here.

ARTHUR: On my way up here.

NORM: Are you crazy?

ARTHUR: Flurries.

NORM: Oh, well, flurries, that doesn’t matter. It’s not going to snow. They’re not going to cancel the game because of flurries–I was just going to tell him about the limo, Coach.

ARTHUR: Limo?

NORM: And the Tiffany trophy.

ARTHUR: That’s pretty neat, Tiffany . . .

NORM: (Imitating ARTHUR.) Yeah, that’s pretty neat.

ARTHUR: Anybody want a Lifesaver?

NORM: (Refusing Lifesaver.) I’m not paying for the Limo, too.

ARTHUR: One of the alumni?

NORM: Yeah, kinda.

ARTHUR: (Having a Lifesaver.) What pigeon are you going to get to pay for a limo so we can drive around campus?

NORM: That’s something I wanted to talk to you about.

ARTHUR: Clayt?

NORM: Driver gets here at 11:00 tomorrow morning.

LUCIAN: It’s as if . . . nothing has ever changed, isn’t it, Art?

NORM: Get out of here. Everything’s completely different.

(END OF SCENE)