Alice sits on the edge
of the kitchen counter back stage center trying to crack an egg
into the bowl resting in her lap. After three tries she finally
succeeds. Mr. Brady Enters stage left. Alice hops of the counter
and stands, arms at sides, behind the center island in the kitchen.
Alice: Good
morning Mr. Brady!
Mr. Brady: I
find in every day that going forward only takes me backwards.I design
seven buildings in an hour and tomorrow they are all gone. I do
all the work. Greg just sings and drives.
Alice: Eggs
and juice it is, Mr. Brady.
Mr. Brady: (worried)
Alice, I can't see you!
Alice: (angrily) Mr.
Brady (waving her spatula wildly) I am right here.
Mr. Brady: (pleading)
Embrace me!
Alice: Now,
now, Mr. Brady. You know I can't do that.
Mr. Brady: (hurt)
May one ask how Her Majesty ate her breakfast?
Alice: In
small bites.
Enter Marsha with Tiger.
She sits on top of the kitchen table and starts brushing her hair.
Tiger curls into the fetal position and waits by her feet.
Marsha: It's
too late. Nothing to do, nothing to do. (sighs).
Mr. Brady: You
haven't called him, have you?
Marsha:Who?
Mr. Brady: (looking towards
Alice, trying to recall the name) Er...
Alice: Sam.
Mr. Brady: Yes.
Marsha: I
have called only Harvey.
Alice: No.
Not once.
Mr. Brady: You
haven't called Sam?
Marsh: No. Who's Sam?
Mr. Brady: Sam?
Marsha: You
thought I had called Sam.
Alice: Oh
no, Miss, I never said such a thing.
Marsha: Who
is he?
Alice: Oh
(turning away and blushing) just an acquaintance.
Tiger: (From the ground)
I saw Joe Namath speaking with Davy Jones
just-
Marsha: Stop!
(Tiger stops) Stand!
(Tiger stands) Brush
my hair
(Tiger brushes her hair)
Stop!
(Tiger stops) Concentrate!
Tiger heads towards island
in the kitchen. Staggering a little almost. He falls. Alice, Mr.
Brady and Marsha pile on top of him as he eeks out his words.
Tiger: In
view of the work done by Perdue and Sanders on the behalf of the
world of poultry products, I find the need now is for a sharper
phaphapha knife where the hairs of a Labrador can be split such
as fine T-bone steak, but for reasons unknown every postman, milkman,
klipman, trupman and chef have seen their chance and let it slip
by waiting for a future of promise built on an empty past of only
unending hope without action, minus movement sitting in the collelelelege
of everyday task work as a result as stated by Charles Harnard the
labors of the chopping block the chopping block the chopping block
stay unused in closed down warehouses on small towns once inhabited
by which produced pork chops and applesauce...with...
Marsha: His
yo-yo!
(Alice seizes the yo-yo
and Tiger stops.)
Marsha: I
must leave.
Alice: Au
revoir.
Mr. Brady: Au
revoir.
Marsha: Au
revoir.
(No one moves. Silence)
Alice: Au
revoir.
Mr. Brady: Au
revoir.
Marsha: Au
revoir.
No one moves. Marsha grabs
her lunch bag from the table.
Marsha: Thank
you. Now I must go. Tiger.
Tiger rises from his crumpled
heap on the floor, brushes the dust off his pants.
We're off. We're off.
They begin to proceed
out.
Stop! Brush!
Tiger scuttles back to
the table and grabs the brush. The two march out , one behind the
other. A
long silence.
Mr. Brady: Now
we continue to wait. He will never come. Never come.
Alice: Who?
Mr. Brady: Sam.
Alice: Now
Mr. Brady you have got to go to work. There is no sense waiting
for that old coot.
Mr. Brady: Everyday
to work to work. I live in a split-level house with six kids. Everyday
a new tragedy that must be solved in half an hour. I can't I can't.
A broken lamp. A high phone bill. A missing Kitty Carryall doll.
Bang. Bang. I trudge. At the end of it all sits a man named Johnny
Bravo strum strumming his guitar.
Alice: Maybe
what you need is a vacation, Mr. Brady.
Mr. Brady: A
vacation? To Hawaii! Yes I think that's it!
Mr. Brady runs out of
the room and within10 seconds he returns out of breath.
Mr. Brady: I
have lost my beans and wieners and I can't find my way to the den.
Alice: Well
shall we call him?
Mr. Brady: Finish
the eggs.
Alice: They
are all done Mr. Brady.
Mr. Brady: Then
shall we call?
Alice: Yes.
Let's call.
They do not move.
|
