TERRITORY by Lawrence Levine
A Play in One Act
CHARACTERS
BEN, late-twenties
MAYA, late-twenties
JAMES, early-thirties
INT. APARTMENT – NIGHT
A commodious New York one-bedroom, furnished in shabby-chic style indicative of the young, seemingly upward-mobile couple who live there.
Maya and Ben enter.
They take off their coats and hang them in the closet.
Maya (throwing her shoes across the room): These fucking shoes!
Ben goes into the kitchen.
He takes the keys and wallet from his pockets and throws them down on the counter.
He goes to the fridge and pulls out a beer.
He places it on the counter, then rummages around in the drawers for a bottle opener.
Maya (cont’d): I think I’m going to take a bath.
Maya peeks into the kitchen.
Maya (cont’d): Did you clean it? (pause) Ben? Ben looks at her.
Maya (cont’d): I’m not drunk. Is it clean? Ben resumes rummaging.
Maya (cont’d): It’s in the middle drawer.
Ben looks through the middle drawer, but still can’t find the opener.
Maya goes over to Ben, pushes him out of the way and grabs the bottle opener.
Maya (cont’d): (handing it to him) Is it clean? I asked you to clean it, you little shit.
Ben opens his beer, takes a sip, and starts looking through his pockets for something.
Maya (cont’d): (exasperated) Never mind. I’ll do it.
Ben: It’s clean!
Ben fishes a cigarette out of his pocket.
He tries to throw it into his mouth a few times, unsuccessfully.
The cigarette falls to the floor.
He picks it up and puts it in his mouth.
Maya: What are you doing?
Ben: What?
Maya: What? (pause) I thought we quit.
Maya waits a beat, then rushes toward him and tries to take the cigarette from his mouth.
Ben backs away.
Ben: It’s just one cigarette.
Maya gives up.
Maya: Dumb-ass.
Maya walks toward the bathroom, then turns around.
Maya (cont’d): Can I have a drag?
Ben: No.
Maya: Come on, Benji.
Ben: No. I’m a dumb-ass.
Maya: That’s right. You are. I don’t even want a drag.
Ben: Good.
Ben lights the cigarette and starts to smoke it.
Maya looks at him for a beat, then rushes toward him in another attempt to snatch the cigarette away.
Maya: Give me a drag, you asshole.
Ben: Seriously, no.
Ben mocks her, inhaling deeply.
Maya: Fine. You’re not a dumb-ass.
Ben goes to hand her the cigarette, but as Maya reaches for it, he pulls it away.
Maya (cont’d): You’re a genius. Okay? You’re the smartest guy I’ve ever met.
Ben gives her the cigarette.
Maya snatches it away and runs across the room, taking several quick puffs.
Ben: You said one drag!
Maya: Big deal. I lied. (pause) Don’t make that face. (pause) Oh fine.
Maya walks over to him and hands him the cigarette.
He takes it and has a few puffs.
She takes his beer, takes a long sip, then gives it back to him.
Maya: Is little Benji grumpy?
Ben: No.
Maya: No, well you look like a big fat grumpo to me.
Ben: I’m not grumpy.
Maya: (flirtatious) How can someone so cute be so grumpadocious? (pause) You didn’t like the party?
Ben: It was okay.
He hands her the cigarette and walks toward the bathroom.
Maya: Where are you going?
Ben: The bathroom.
Maya: No! Not before I take a bath.
Ben: I’m just taking a leak.
Maya: Okay, Grumpadocio.
Ben: (entering the bathroom) I’m not grumpy.
Maya takes a last drag as she walks into the kitchen.
She throws the cigarette into the kitchen sink.
She exits the kitchen and walks toward the bedroom.
She passes the bathroom.
The door is open a crack and Ben is zipping up his pants.
He senses Maya’s presence and turns around.
Maya sticks her tongue out at him playfully.
Ben just stares her down.
Maya enters the bedroom and flops onto the bed.
Maya: Parties, schmarties.
Ben washes his hands and face.
Ben: What?
Maya: Nothing.
Ben dries his hands and face.
Ben: What?
Maya: Nothing. Parties, schmarties.
Ben exits the bathroom and stands in the bedroom doorway.
Ben: What are you saying?
Maya: (screaming) Parties, schmarties!
Ben: Calm down. I just couldn’t hear you.
Maya: Parties schmarties. I said, “parties, schmarties.”
Ben: I thought you had fun.
Maya: Not really. I kind of feel like it’s enough already. Like, how many parties can you go to? They’re all the same. Right?
Ben: You think so?
Maya: I mean, basically. Same boring conversation topics. Same boring people, trying to prove they’re doing something interesting and impressive with their lives, but all they’re doing is sitting in these cubicles all week and going to these insufferable parties all weekend.
Ben: Really? Insufferable? You looked pretty wrapped up in your conversation with “what’s his name.”
Maya: Me? Look who’s talking. (pause) Wrapped up, my ass! In Dan Faber’s Foucault lecture? I was just waiting for you to come over and rescue me. (pause) God, you look like the grim reaper over there. Why don’t you have a seat, grumpo?
Ben: I’m not grumpy.
Maya gets up off the bed.
She walks over to Ben and, taking him by the arm, pulls him back toward the bed.
Maya: I think “not grumpy” needs a massage. (Ben resists) Come on, poop.
Ben: Look, I’m fine. All right? I don’t need a massage.
Maya keeps pulling on him.
Maya: God, so resistant.
Maya continues to pull, and Ben continues to resist.
Ben: I don’t want a massage.
Maya: (giving up and letting go) Fine.
Maya slumps down on the bed.
Ben: You do it too hard.
Maya: I’ll be gentle.
Ben: Fine. But be gentle.
Ben lies down on the bed.
Maya climbs on top of him.
Ben: Ouch! It’s too hard! Jesus, can you just ease up a little?
Maya: How’s this?
Ben: Good.
Maya tries something different.
Ben: No! See, that hurts.
Maya: Sorry.
Maya massages him gently for a bit.
Ben moans in pleasure.
Ben turns his body around so that his back is on the bed.
Maya straddles him.
Ben kisses her.
Maya kisses him back, but, suddenly, pulls away.
Maya: Are you hungry?
Ben: It’s two in the morning.
Maya: I know, but I have food.
Maya jumps up and runs toward the kitchen.
Ben, frustrated, follows a few steps behind.
Maya: I was going to make you a special surprise dinner, but you sprung that party on me, so . . . Guess what I got? Come on Grumpadumpolous, guess.
Ben: I don’t know.
Maya: Come on. What’s your favorite?
Ben: Spaghetti with meat sauce.
Maya: That’s not your favorite.
Ben: It’s not?
Maya: No.
Ben: Okay. What’s my favorite?
Maya: Pork chops! Loser. Pork chops and hot toddies.
Ben: You know how to make them?
Maya: Yes. I mean, it’s not exactly a brain transplant.
Ben watches as Maya starts to make preparations.
Ben: You need some help?
Maya: No. Little grumpo can just –
Ben: Why do you keep –
Maya: My God, you really are in a bad mood!
Ben: I am not in a –
The doorbell rings.
Maya and Ben look at each other, confused as to who might be ringing at such a late hour.
Maya: Are you going to get that?
Ben: Hell no. It’s the middle of the night. It’s probably just some drunk –
Maya: What if it’s an emergency?
Maya goes to the door and looks through the peephole.
Ben: Who is it?
Maya: There’s no one.
Ben goes over to the door, pushes her out of the way, and looks for himself.
Maya (cont’d): I told you there was no one there.
Maya turns and walks back toward the kitchen.
Ben looks through the peephole again and doesn’t see anyone.
He walks toward the kitchen.
The doorbell rings again.
Maya pops out of the kitchen.
Ben goes back to the door and looks through the peephole.
He sees nothing.
He and Maya exchange a confused glance.
Ben opens the door and steps out into the hall, but almost immediately backs into the apartment screaming and struggling with a tall, thin man in a tattered grey suit and a gas-mask.
This man is James.
Maya screams and backs away across the living room.
After a few moments of struggle, James pulls off the mask.
He is a baby-faced thirty.
James: Oh my God. Did I scare you? (pause) I found this on the street . . . just randomly . . .
Ben: James?!
James: Do you guys normally do that?
Ben: (shocked) Oh my God! James . . . ? What are you –
James: Do you normally just answer the door without asking who’s there?
Ben: (excitement) James! What the hell are you doing here?!
James: No. I’m just surprised, that’s all. This neighborhood is still a little rough around the edges. Isn’t it? I mean, I could have been a total wacko or something –
Ben: (moving toward him with open arms) Jesus Christ! James?!
James: The one and only. (pause) What the fuck was that? “The one and only.” What the fuck am I –
The two men embrace.
Maya: How did you get in, James?
James: Well, Maya, if that’s your way of saying hi, then hello to you too.
Maya: No. I just . . . wondered –
James: Mike . . . He remembered me. (off Maya’s uncomprehending look) Mike is your doorman.
Maya: Jesus James, it’s two o’clock in the morning.
James: (edging his way toward the kitchen) Actually, it’s two-thirty –
Maya: No! No! No! Get your shoes off! They’re soaking wet!
James: (entering the kitchen) Are those pork chops? It is so bizarre that you are eating those because a few nights ago I had this dream about pork chops. Well, actually, it was about my father but . . . he used to eat pork chops all the time that fucking bastard. Anyway, in the dream I pummeled him with an enormous pork chop.
James circles through the kitchen and then back into the living room.
He looks around the room nervously.
James (cont’d): I think it was a pork chop. It could have been a lamb shank or something. Anyway, doesn’t make a difference because the point is I jumped right on top of him, in the dream, straddled him and just . . . You ever have one of those dreams where you just . . . go at someone?
Maya: James, could you –
James: What?
Maya: Your shoes.
James: Oh. I’m sorry. Jesus. Rude. Right?
James walks back toward the door, kneels and takes off his shoes.
James: It used to be I couldn’t eat meat. The memories and everything. (standing) You remember that Ben?
Ben: It’s been a long time. You look . . . You look good.
James: A long time? You think so?
James re-enters the living room, crosses to the bookshelf and looks over the books.
James (cont’d): Anyway, now I eat it. Meat. Steak, chicken, pork chops –
Maya: If we’d known you were coming I could’ve –
James: That’s okay. I’ll just eat your leftovers.
Maya: (crossing to the kitchen) Yeah, well, I bought just enough so . . .
There is a brief pause, as James looks from Maya to Ben.
James positions himself so that he can look at both of them.
James: You look beautiful Maya. Thin. How do you stay so thin? Staying off the carbohydrates? Very considerate. You must be content, Ben. More than content. I see these women get hitched . . . Oh, wait . . . Are you guys . . . ? Shit. There I go again.
Ben: No. It’s okay. I mean . . . It’s we don’t see the need to –
James: Well, you’re settled anyway. It seems like when women get hitched, settled down, whatever, in a year or two they’ve hit the wall. But domesticity seems to agree with you, Maya.
Maya looks at James.
James (cont’d): No. Really. I mean it. It does. You look as good as ever. Of course, you haven’t popped one out yet, which is when things tend to go drastically down hill –
Ben: How about a drink, James? Maya’s making hot toddies.
James: Sounds perfect. Nippy out there. (pauses before addressing Ben) You know what it reminds me of. Our trip to Lake George. Remember how cold the water was? You could barely run your hand through it. God, it seems like yesterday, that trip?
James moves toward the hallway leading to the bedroom.
Ben: Why don’t you sit down James?
James: (stopping abruptly) Done some redecorating, huh?
Ben: Not really.
James: Those paintings. New. That lamp is new.
Ben: Is it? Oh, that’s right. We got that at this yard sale. You remember that day, Maya?
Maya: What?
Ben: James is asking where we got the lamp.
Maya: The what? Oh, right.
Ben: Do you remember?
Maya: Remember what?
Ben: The yard sale.
Maya: What yard sale?
Ben: Where we got the lamp.
Maya: I got that lamp in Connecticut. I don’t think . . . Were you with me?
Ben: Really? I’m pretty sure we got it at a yard sale in Rhinebeck.
Maya: No way. I mean, that thing goes way back –
James: (veiled sarcasm) It’s nice.
Ben: Yeah, well Maya picked it out.
James: (dubious) Did she?
Ben: Yeah, we were at this yard sale.
James: Were you? (pause) Well, she has good taste. I always said that.
James walks into the bathroom.
He looks at himself in the mirror.
Ben walks into the kitchen.
Ben: I can’t believe you don’t remember.
Maya: Remember what?
Ben: That day. (pause) The day we got the lamp. We were at a yard sale. We bought all this stuff. I bought you that hat. The alpaca . . . It was fall. The beginning. You were wearing those boots . . . the suede boots with the frills. (pause) You don’t remember?
Maya: (exasperated) Ben.
Ben: What?
Maya: No. I . . . We’ve been to a lot of yard sales.
James is looking through the medicine chest, where he finds an old toothbrush.
He grabs it and exits the bathroom.
James: You still have my toothbrush.
Ben: Is that yours?
James: Yes, it’s my exact . . . I mean, it’s my toothbrush! Pink Oral B medium! (pause) Why are you smiling?
Ben: No . . . it’s . . . we’ve been using it to clean . . . the humidifier and things. The toilet.
James affects a hurt expression.
Ben (cont’d): I didn’t . . . I mean –
James: I’m kidding. Jesus, you think I give a shit. What happened to your sense of humor? What happened to his sense of humor, Maya?
James walks back toward the bathroom.
Ben starts to straighten up the apartment.
James throws the toothbrush in the garbage and peeks into the bedroom.
He walks into the living room, sneaks up behind Ben and jumps on him, then scurries into the kitchen.
James: (to Maya) Did you hear me? I was just telling Ben how much I admire your decorative skills. (pause) The apartment. I mean, it looks totally different, but good. Homey. (pause) You look different too. (to Ben) Doesn’t she?
Ben: What? Who, Maya?
James: She looks different. Still beautiful, but altered somehow. Am I right?
Ben: (sitting on the nearest couch) I don’t know.
James: Definitely.
Ben: Funny. I think she looks the same as she always did.
James: That’s because you see her every day. Don’t you think? I mean, most change happens gradually. Of course, you have your revolutions, your brisk, sort of violent shifts, but for the most part, change kind of sneaks up on you. Am I right? (pause) Like you, Ben. You’ve transformed since the last time I saw you. But you probably don’t even know it because it didn’t happen overnight.
Ben: You think I changed?
James: You. Absolutely. I can see that because I haven’t seen you in all this time. To me, it’s obvious.
Ben: How so?
James: I don’t know exactly. Nothing I can put my finger on, but . . . I mean, you have. Haven’t you? (pause) What do you think, Maya? Has he?
Maya: Has he what?
James: Changed?
Maya: Ben?
James: Right.
Maya: Maybe.
Ben: Really?
Maya: Sure.
James: (to Ben) See?
Ben: (to Maya) You think I’m different?
Maya: A little.
Ben: That’s . . . I don’t think you are . . . different.
Maya: Really?
James: Oh, she is.
Ben: Not at all.
James: How could she not be? It’s been a long time since –
Ben: It’s only been four years.
Maya: Three and a half.
Ben: That’s not long. (pause) What? It isn’t.
Maya: So you don’t think I’ve changed?
Ben: Not really.
Maya: That’s depressing.
Ben: Why is that depressing?
Maya: I don’t know. It just is.
James: Well, that depends. Doesn’t it?
James looks at Ben.
James (cont’d): What?
Ben: Seems like you’re the one who’s changed.
James: Indeed, I have.
Ben: (mocking) Oh, “indeed.”
James: (sharply) Indeed. (pause) Still perceptive, Ben. Sharp as a tack. (pause) So . . . I’ve changed.
Ben: It’s obvious.
James: Is it? How?
Ben: I don’t know. Nothing I could put my finger on. (to Maya) You sure you don’t need any help in there?
Maya: No. I’ve got it, honey.
James: (mocking) “Honey”? (contrite) No. It’s . . .
James sits next to Ben on the couch.
James (cont’d): (to Ben) Can I tell you a secret? It’s funny that I feel like I have to ask. Remember when you and I were like this?
James crosses his fingers and holds up his hand.
James (cont’d): You remember?
Ben looks down, uncomfortably.
James (cont’d): I’m jealous of you two. I mean, not ferociously, but . . . I just mean you’ve got something to hang on to. One another. Something solid. I used to think marriage was bullshit –
Maya: We’re not married. (defensive) I mean, Ben and I don’t see the point of –
James: Yeah, but you know what I mean. I used to think monogamy was bullshit. The possessiveness. The tedium. But looking at you two, it seems . . . I don’t know. Peaceful. You seem to have made a cozy little life for yourselves. Two peas in a peaceful pod. (leaning toward Ben) Do you find your pod peaceful?
Ben looks down awkwardly.
James (cont’d): Oh, shit. I’m embarrassing you. I’m sorry. Jesus. Let’s change the topic.
Silence.
James jumps up, returning to the bookshelf.
He flips through the books and CD’s.
Ben: (to James) So?
James: Yeah.
Ben: Well?
Ben stands up and lumbers into the kitchen.
He picks at some of the vegetables Maya is chopping.
Maya: (to Ben) Stop it.
Ben: What brings you to the Big Apple?
James: “The Big Apple.” Nothing, really. A business opportunity.
Ben smirks.
James (cont’d): What?
Ben: Business?
James: Is that so funny?
Ben: What sort of business?
James: The usual.
Ben: What’s that?
James: Buying and selling.
Ben: Buying and selling what?
James: Songs. (defensive) Don’t look so surprised!
Silence.
James (cont’d): (quickly changing the topic) I met a girl. In Paris, actually.
Maya: (sarcastic) You met a girl. How shocking.
James: I’m serious about this one.
Maya: Serious?
James: Nothing like you two lovebirds. Not yet anyway.
Maya: I didn’t know you had it in you to be serious.
James: I didn’t either, frankly. But this one, she drew it out of me.
Maya: Really? She must be some girl.
Ben picks at the vegetables again.
Maya (cont’d): (to Ben) Cut it out!
James: Andalucia. (pause) That’s her name. She’s French.
Maya: I thought Andalucia was a Spanish name.
James: Is it? Well that makes sense. I mean, she has some Spanish in her. (pause) It’s through her.
Ben: What?
James: She knows some people in the music business. Her father, actually, is this big executive at a record company.
Maya: Really?
James: Yeah, I know it sounds . . . but that’s got nothing to do with . . . I mean, she happens to be rich and her father is interested in my music, but it wouldn’t matter if she was or wasn’t. I’d be happy just to walk the earth with her. I’d be happy in a cardboard box with her. (pause) I met her at a party . . . in Amsterdam.
Maya: I thought you said you met her in Paris.
James: Did I say Paris? No. We went there later. I met her in Amsterdam . . . at a party. I didn’t really know anyone so I was huddled in the corner playing some songs I was working on at the time, and Andalucia, she liked them and we got to talking. Eventually –
Ben: (to Maya) Did you get in touch with Cindy about that armoire?
Maya: Two days ago?
Ben: When’s it coming?
Maya: Relax. It’ll be here Tuesday.
Ben looks back at James.
Ben: Sorry, what were you saying?
James: Me? Nothing. I don’t know.
Maya: Andalucia.
James: Oh yeah. Right. We left the party and wandered the streets, and . . . Did you ever just meet someone . . . ? What am I saying you must know all about this. I mean, yeah . . . So, anyway, we met and something happened. You guys know. Intense eye contact. Blood flowing. Juices. I could just feel her . . . like . . . juices. (pause) Yeah, so she’s pretty wild, Andy. So she asked me if I’d ever seen a live sex show and I hadn’t, so she took me to one. And after that we were just like . . . crazed with lust or something. We stopped in the park and just did it right there on this rickety old park bench.
Maya: In the park?
James: So?
Maya: (sarcastic) No. Sounds romantic.
James: It was. It was great.
Maya: Weren’t you worried about hyperdermic needles or –
James: Hyper-dermic? No. Nor was I worried about hypodermic needles. It didn’t cross my mind –
Maya: (touchy) No. I just heard the parks there were . . .
Silence.
Maya (cont’d): Well that’s great James. She sounds great.
Maya slides the cutting board towards Ben.
Maya (cont’d): Do you mind?
Ben: My pleasure.
Maya: (weary) Ben.
Ben: What? I’m serious.
Ben starts to chop.
Maya goes to the stove.
She removes a steaming teapot from it, pulls a mug from the counter and fills it.
She walks over to Ben and hands him the mug.
He stops chopping and takes a sip.
Maya looks back at Ben as she is walking back to the counter to pour herself a shot.
Maya: How is it?
Ben: Delicious?
Maya looks at him skeptically.
Ben (cont’d): What? I’m serious. This is the best hot toddy I’ve ever had.
Maya: The only one probably.
Ben: What are you talking about? We’ve had them together.
Maya: What? When?
Ben: Aspen. (pause) You don’t remember? In that lodge with the –
Maya: Oh yeah. You like it?
Ben: I love it.
Maya: (doubtful) Ben.
Ben: I’m serious.
Maya pours herself one. She takes a sip.
Ben (cont’d): See.
Maya: You’re exaggerating.
Ben: What? I like it.
Maya: (grabbing Ben’s mug) It needs more nutmeg.
Ben: (grabbing the mug back) I like it.
Maya: I thought you loved it.
Ben: That’s what I said.
Maya: That’s what you said before. Just now you said you liked it.
Ben: (irritated) I’m sorry. What I meant was, I love it.
Maya places her mug on the counter.
She rummages through the cabinets looking for nutmeg.
Ben continues to chop.
James: (to Ben) So what have you been doing with yourself these days?
Ben: Me? Nothing.
James: Working?
Ben: If you want to call it that.
James: Still for the old man?
Maya: (shaking some nutmeg into her mug) It’s more like the old man works for him now.
Maya walks over to Ben.
James continues to look through the bookshelves.
James: Is that so?
Ben: I don’t know about that.
Maya: So modest! The business has like tripled since Ben joined.
James: Tripled? Well, I always said real-estate was a good racket. You know, if you can get over the rough aspects of it.
Maya: Rough aspects?
James: No. Forget it. I’m just –
Maya: What rough aspects?
James: I don’t know. Evicting people.
Maya: Ben doesn’t evict people.
James: Oh.
Ben: Well, not really. (pause) I mean, there was this one tenant in one of our buildings that was three, four months late with the rent. Now in a situation like that, what can you do? You can’t just let people walk all over you.
Maya: Four months? You let him get away with four months?
Ben: Well, you don’t want to throw them out on the street if you can help it.
Maya: Jesus. Four months. Did you ever get the money?
Ben: Yeah, eventually . . . I mean, we had to take her to court, but –
Maya: Is she still in the building?
Ben: Yeah.
Maya: She’s been paying, right?
Ben: So far, so good.
Maya sips her toddy.
James: (re: the toddies) So . . . I guess they’re ready.
Maya: What? (pause) Oh, you want one?
James: If it isn’t too much trouble.
Maya: No, I just don’t know if . . .
Maya goes over to the teapot, which is resting on the stove.
She picks it up, then quickly sets it down.
Maya (cont’d): There’s none left. I’m sorry James.
Maya glares at James, taking pleasure in her denial, then takes a big sip before sliding the cup back over to Ben.
Maya (cont’d): (rubbing Ben’s back) Oh. Yes. I just remembered. We did get that lamp at a yard sale. The one upstate, right?
Ben: Did we?
Maya: Totally. I was thinking of another lamp.
Ben: Oh. The one that we gave to your parents.
Maya: Right. That we bought in Connecticut. This is the one we bought in Rhinebeck last fall.
Ben: Did we? Because when you said it, I thought maybe –
Maya: No. I’m sure.
Ben: Right. I thought so.
Maya: You’re always right, Benji. You have such a good little memory. (noticing his improper chopping) I think you’re done, sweetie.
Ben: I could probably get them finer if –
Maya grabs the knife and pulls the cutting board towards her.
Maya: They’re perfect.
She chops the vegetables a little finer.
Ben: (annoyed) I thought they were perfect.
Maya: Someone’s hungry. (pause) Is little Benji feeling grumpy again?
Ben: I’m not grumpy.
Maya: Okay.
Ben: I’m not.
Maya: I know. (off Ben’s glare) That face! Jeez.
James: How about you, Maya? Still working for what was that magazine?
Maya: Vogue? No. Politically, I just couldn’t stand it anymore. I’m doing more freelance now.
James: Freelance. Right. Everyone’s freelance nowadays.
Maya: Yeah, well, I like it better actually. Make my own hours, write about what I want –
James: Sounds liberating.
Maya: Yeah, it is actually.
James: You probably have one of those hip health plans.
Maya: No. Actually, I’m covered through Ben’s business.
James: I was kidding.
Long silence.
Ben: (breaking the tension) Sorry about the toddies, James. You want something else? Some whiskey might be nice on a night like this.
James: That’s okay.
Ben: No. I’ve got some really good stuff that I’ve been wanting to break out.
Ben grabs some whiskey from a cabinet and pours two glasses.
Maya: You’re going to give him that?
Ben: (filling a glass) Why not?
Maya: No. I don’t know. I just thought that was for . . . Never mind.
Ben: For what? Special occasions.
Maya: No. I don’t know.
Ben: Well, if this doesn’t count as a special occasion, I don’t know what does.
Ben walks over to James and hands a glass to him.
The two men salute and sip their drinks.
Ben: It’s funny what you said before. Well, not funny, but –
James: What’s that?
Ben: You know, about being jealous of me.
James: Well, maybe not jealous –
Ben: That’s what you said. I mean, you said jealous, or am I –
James: Did I? I guess I did. Well, maybe I am. Maybe jealous was a little strong, but I’m just saying, I see the attraction to a more . . . sedentary existence.
Ben: No. It’s just . . . I don’t know . . . I always wondered what you were doing. What kind of adventures you were having out there.
Ben looks over at Maya, who is smirking at him.
Ben: What?
Maya: I didn’t know you were so into adventure. (pause) No. I mean, you just like your little schedule, your little haunts. (pause) What? It’s cute. You just like your little routine.
James: Is that what you’re into now, routine?
Ben: She’s blowing it out of proportion.
Maya: No. He won’t even travel. He refuses. Says he can’t stand it when he doesn’t know where he is. (pause) What? It’s true. We started this cross-country trip through the South and we made it as far as Virginia. The big roads got him all flustered.
Ben: I wasn’t flustered –
James: I don’t know. We used to travel. Didn’t we, Ben? We had some . . . well, I don’t know about adventures but . . . We made this one trip – I don’t know if Ben remembers – to Lake George. You bought an eye-patch at one of those chatchka shops and put it on when we went out sailing. And he was going, “Ahoy mate-y,” you know and like, “Arggh.” I always thought you would have made a good pirate.
Maya: Benji Mishkin. The first Jewish pirate.
Ben: I’m not Jewish.
Maya: Oh, sorry.
James: What are you saying?
Ben: I’m only a quarter Jewish.
James: That would have been good enough for Hitler.
Ben: Besides, there were Jewish pirates . . . probably.
Maya: Oh, wait. I’m sorry. You’re right. A lot of people think Captain Hook got his name because he had a hook where his hand used to be, but it was actually because he had a big crooked nose.
Ben: (sarcastic) That’s funny! Maya’s recently discovered the charms of racism. It’s really livened things up around here.
Maya: Oh, I’m kidding. You know I love your race.
James: What’s not to love?
Ben: It’s not my race.
James: This is good stuff. Smooth. You’ve got to admire a Jew who knows his whiskey.
Ben: I’m not Jewish.
James notices Ben’s record crates.
He walks toward them.
James: You still have your records.
James kneels down in front of the crates and starts to flip through them.
James (cont’d): I can’t believe you’ve still got them in these crates. A big real-estate mogul like you. I’d have thought you’d have gotten some big shelf for them or something.
Maya: I keep telling him to do something with those records.
James: I think I missed these records more than anything in this apartment.
Ben: Besides me, you mean.
James: Right.
Maya: What about me?
James: What about you? (pause) I’m kidding. Oh, that’s right I forgot. You guys don’t joke around anymore.
Ben: Are you kidding? Maya’s a barrel of monkeys these days. You heard those Jew jokes. You should hear her when she gets started with the black jokes. They’re a riot.
James: This is crazy. Each one of these records is attached to a memory. (pulling out a record from one of the crates) Oh my God. Vermonster. I totally forgot about this band.
Ben: I don’t think I’ve listened to that since you left.
James: This is a great record. Obscure artcore. I remember the day you bought it.
Ben: At Kim’s, right?
James: Exactly! It was behind the counter and you asked what it was and the guy behind the counter – total record store prick, snobby beyond belief – he says, “That’s just some unlistenable shit.” And you said –
Ben: I’ll take it.
James: Exactly. You do remember. What was it, like, fifty bucks?
Ben: Fifty-seven.
James: Fifty-seven? Fifty-seven dollars for some banging and screaming. Demented ranting, really.
Ben: Well, it is a three-record set.
James: No. It’s a great record. We were listening to a lot of this stuff in those days. Remember. That’s where we got the idea for our band.
Maya: You two were in a band?
Ben: Is that so hard to believe?
Maya: You don’t even play an instrument.
James: That was part of the point.
Maya: Oh.
James: We were great. Short-lived, but great. How many gigs did we play, one or two?
Ben: Maybe two. At Mercury.
James: And who was responsible for that genius booking?
Ben: Oh wait. What was his name? I think we called him double-d.
James: Right. Because he had tits.
Ben: I think it was his girlfriend actually who convinced him to book us.
James: Double-a.
Ben: Right because she was –
James: Tit-less.
Ben: Right. She was like the first Facial Humiliation fan.
James: Oh no. Facial Humiliation? Is that the name we played under?
Ben: I think so.
James: I thought it was Rawg Dawgs.
Ben: Nope. That was the song.
James: Song. Yeah, but you have to put that in quotes because it was like forty-five minutes of feedback over which we’d take turns reciting dialogue from this bestiality porn Ben was really into at the time.
Ben: Is that what we did? Jesus. Those gigs were –
James: I know. The audience was just standing there nodding their heads like zombies while the two of us just sort of pummeled them with this barrage of . . . They weren’t really concerts were they? They were more like drunken brawls disguised as art or something. We did get some groupies out of it believe it or not.
Maya: Sounds amazing.
Ben: Yeah, it was pretty stupid.
James: Good stupid though.
Ben: If you say so.
James: What’s that supposed to mean?
Ben: Nothing. I don’t know. I mean, what was the point really?
James: The point? Fun was the point. I suppose now that you’re a big-shot at Daddy’s business you’re above fun.
James pulls another record from the crate.
James (cont’d): Oh my God. Celebrity Murders! Jesus Christ. I totally forgot about this band. We have to put this on.
James hustles over to the stereo.
Ben: It’s a little late. The neighbors –
James: Come on. It’ll be just like old times.
Ben: “Just Like Old Times.” You sound like a commercial.
James: At least I don’t look like I’m in a commercial.
Ben: That’s funny.
James: It’s funny because it’s true. Come on, let’s listen to some fucking hard-core, Ben. It’ll be good for your moribund spirit. Come on.
Ben: No. James really –
Maya: God, let him put it on already.
James goes to the record player and puts the record on.
The sound of loud dissonant guitars, clanging drums, and garbled indecipherable vocals fills the room.
James grabs his mask and puts it on.
He starts to dance wildly around the room.
He goes over to Ben and tries to get Ben to dance with him.
James fails to do so, then goes to the kitchen and dances with Maya.
Eventually, James dances his way back to Ben.
James: Come on, man.
James grabs Ben’s arms and tries to pull him into the center of the room.
Ben resists, finally breaking away.
He goes over to the record player and turns it off.
Ben: Okay. That’s enough.
James: (hurt) Come on. What’s the matter with you? You used to like to dance.
Ben stomps toward the kitchen.
James (cont’d): Nina used to say that you were the best dancer she ever saw. Of course, she was being heavily ironic, but . . . (pause) You remember Nina?
Maya: Nina?
James: You never told her about Nina?
Maya: Who’s Nina?
James: Two lovebirds like you, I would’ve thought that you told each other everything. Isn’t that what little lovebirds do? Confide or disclose or whatever –
Maya: Who’s Nina?
Brief silence.
Ben: No one. Some insignificant –
James: Insignificant! Don’t you think that’s selling her a little short?
Ben: Not really.
James: I’d say she was fairly significant! To me, at least. It strikes me as a touch callous to call a fun girl like Nina insignificant! We had some good old times with good old Nina!
Maya: Who’s Nina?
Ben: I already told you. A random –
James: Random?! Come on Ben! Don’t tell me you don’t remember the sailboat?!
Ben: I don’t know, maybe . . . vaguely –
James: Really?! Vaguely?! I have some pretty vivid memories of Nina! From our trip to Lake George and, actually, a few of them from right there on that very couch!
Ben: (to Maya) Hey, honey, how are those pork chops coming?
Maya: (to James) So you slept with her?
James: Nope! Can’t say there was much sleeping going on!
Ben: Maya, sweetheart, I’m hungry.
James: Me, too. Famished!
Maya checks the oven.
She pulls out the tray with the pork chops on it and places it on the counter.
She makes up the plates.
James storms over to the table, sits, slams the gas-mask on the table.
He is clearly becoming unhinged.
Ben: (to James) What are you doing?
James: Who, me?
Ben: Get that thing off the table.
James: What thing?
Ben: What thing? You pull that thing off a trash heap and then you put it on my table.
James: A trash heap? What makes you think I pulled it off a trash heap?
Ben: I don’t care where you pulled it from. Get it off my table. It’s filthy.
James: It is not.
Ben: Well, I think it is and it’s my table.
James: Is it?
Maya: Ben –
James: This table is ours, Ben. We bought it together. Exactly one half of this table is mine. Let’s just say I’m leaving the mask on my half.
Ben: I bought this table with Maya after you were long gone. (pause) Maya . . . ? (pause) Tell him.
Maya: I don’t think –
Ben: Tell him.
Silence.
Ben (cont’d): (to James, re: Maya) We bought this table together. (pause) Jesus. The same day we bought the lamp. The beginning of fall. You were wearing the hat. Didn’t we just go over this? The alpaca . . . the one I bought you in Rhinebeck.
Maya: Listen James, Ben’s been a little nervous lately.
Ben: I’m not nervous. I’m perfectly –
Maya: Not nervous, but . . .
Maya looks back and forth at the two men.
Maya (cont’d): (to James) You want a refill?
Maya runs to the kitchen in search of a glass.
James: Well, we all know what that’s like. Right? Nerves. I used to get upset too, Ben. All the time. Then I took up meditation.
James sits cross-legged on his chair and puts his hands in prayer position.
James (cont’d): (closing his eyes) Oooooooooooooooommmmmmmmmmmmmmmm . . .
James stops, slowly raises his head and opens his eyes.
James (cont’d): You shouldn’t feel too bad, Benji. There is hope. I know. I know. I used to think that new age shit was corny too, but yoga, meditation . . . There’s something to it.
Maya, having found a glass, pours some whiskey in it.
Maya: James . . . Really, could you just –
James: So what if he’s been upset?
Ben: I’m not upset!
James: What does that have to do with where I got this mask, whether or not it’s dirty, or whose table this is? (pause) Look, I see what’s going on here. Don’t think I don’t see. You want me to take this off the table. But I can’t. Where else can I possibly put it?
Ben: You could just put it on the back of your chair –
James: It won’t fit there.
Ben: Give it a try.
James: No point. I can see already it won’t fit. Besides, if I put it on the back of the chair, I’ll keep knocking my back against it. It’ll be irritating.
Ben: So put it on the back of one of the other chairs.
James: But then one of you would bump the back of your head against it.
Ben: We don’t mind.
James: Yeah, but I would. I’d feel far too guilty watching one of you bumping your heads against my mask. It’s not soft. It’s hard. And besides, it’s irrelevant because it won’t fit.
Ben: Put it on the floor then.
James: The floor? Nope. Sorry. Can’t do that.
Ben: Why not?
James: No offense to either of you, but . . . well, when was the last time you cleaned this place?
James stares at Ben.
Ben stares right back.
James (cont’d): I can’t move the mask and that’s that. (pause) I’ll take that drink now. (pause) I said I’ll take that drink now.
Maya looks at Ben, then walks toward James.
James reaches out to take the drink.
Ben lunges toward the table and grabs the mask.
The glass spills.
James jumps up.
Ben backs away from the table, clutching the mask.
James: (furious) Why did you do that?!
Ben: Because it’s my table and I want this piece of shit off of it!
Maya: Benji –
James: (to Ben) You see? There you go again. Calling things yours that aren’t! (to Maya) I don’t know why you let him get away with it!
Maya: (to Ben) Honey, calm down.
Ben: I am calm!
Maya: Sweetheart –
Ben: Don’t “sweetheart” me –
Maya: Why don’t you sit down, James?
Maya goes to the kitchen to get some paper towels to clean up the spill.
Maya: I told you. Ben’s been a little on edge.
Ben: I’m not on edge!
Maya: He’ll settle down.
She looks at him.
Maya (cont’d): You look ridiculous clutching that thing like that.
Maya wipes the spilled whiskey off the table.
Ben: I look ridiculous! Look at his suit!
James: My suit?!
Maya: (to James) You want some pork chops?
James: I don’t want any pork chops. I’ve lost my appetite. I want my mask. (pause) He stole something from me and I want it back!
Maya: Fine. Okay. Look, if I give you the mask back, do you promise not to put it on the table?
Ben: You don’t have the mask.
Maya: Ben –
James: (to Maya) Well, I guess that depends.
Maya: Depends? On what?
James: On whose table it is and if we can find a suitable place to put it.
Maya: What difference does it make whose table it is?
James: All the difference. It makes all the difference. (pause) Now, if I remember correctly, you and I found this table together at a flea market.
Maya: Who cares where –
Ben: You don’t remember correctly. Maya and I bought that table the same day we bought the lamp at the yard sale.
James: (to Ben) You don’t remember? (pause) Well, let me jar your memory.
Ben: I don’t need my memory jarred. I remember perfectly well the day we bought the table.
James: I’m afraid you’re mistaken. We bought this table on our trip back from Lake George with Nina! (pause) You don’t remember this trip?! (pause) Ben. Come on. I admit the whole thing is a blur due to the insane amount of drugs we were shooting, but . . . You don’t remember Lake George?! (to Maya) He never told you any of this?!
Ben: What would I tell her? There’s nothing to tell. This didn’t happen.
Maya: (to Ben, re: James) What’s he talking about?
Ben: Who? Him. Nothing. I don’t know.
James: He doesn’t know! You said it was the best night of your life. The night before we bought this table!
Ben: Where are you coming from, James?
James: What?
Ben: Where are you coming from?
James: Me. Nowhere.
Ben: That’s impossible. You must be coming from somewhere. You didn’t just pop out of the void into this apartment.
James: Let’s not get sidetracked. We’re talking about Nina! Lake George!
Ben: Your skin looks a little pale, James. Are you having another one of your episodes?
James: Episodes?
Maya: All right boys, that’s enough. Let’s everybody just simmer down.
Ben: You look a little tired. Have you been sleeping in the gutter again? Squatting? Or have you been hustling? Or, wait, have you been back to Four Winds? Is that where you’ve been, Four Winds?
Maya re-enters the main area, standing between James and Ben.
Ben (cont’d): Where did you get that suit?
James: I don’t know. Picked it up somewhere along the way.
Ben: “Along the way,” huh? It’s got a stain on the lapel.
James: It does not.
Ben: Yes it does. Maya, you see that stain –
Maya: Ben . . .
Ben: What?
Maya: No. I don’t. Can we just –
Ben: It’s a simple question. Do you see the stain or don’t you?
Maya: I don’t know!
Ben: You don’t know what a stain is? You’ve never seen a stain before?
Maya: Why are you doing this?
Ben: Me? I’m just here to help. James doesn’t want to walk into a big meeting with a record executive with a stain on his lapel. It’s like walking around with your fly open or with food in your teeth. You wouldn’t want to walk around with food in your teeth, would you, James? (pause) Your jacket has got a stain, James. (to Maya) Take a look. Lean in. Take a look.
Ben pushes Maya toward James.
Maya: It’s not a stain really. Just a spot. It’s nothing. It’ll come out in the wash –
James: Never mind my suit! I was talking about Lake George! Nina! I think Maya might be interested in –
Ben: Where did you get that suit, James?
James: I already told you. I don’t remember.
Ben: Then maybe you don’t remember Lake George either! Maybe they shocked the memory right out of your head on one of your little trips! Maybe we bought a different table! Maybe we never bought any table at all! Maybe you’ve never been to Lake George! Maybe it was a different lake! Maybe there is no Nina –
James: Oh, I’ve been to Lake George and you were there with me and there definitely is a Nina! I remember her vividly! I have an absolutely pellucid recollection –
Ben: There he goes again. “Pellucid.” Your memory is about as pellucid as the shit heap you pulled this gas-mask from!
James lunges toward Ben, attempting to snatch the gas-mask from him.
Maya grabs a hold of James.
Maya: Stop it!
James breaks away.
Ben: Let’s not dwell on the past, real or imagined. Let’s talk about now, James. Where are you right now? I mean you show up here in the middle of the night – (pause) You’re ranting and raving about your father –
James: I wasn’t ranting! You call that ranting! You’re the one who’s –
Ben: You’re pale as a ghost. You’ve got bags under your eyes. You’re wearing a faded Salvation Army monstrosity of a suit with a giant stain on the lapel. The cuffs are all frayed –
James: The cuffs are not frayed!
Ben: The colors are faded.
James: They are not! It’s a grey suit! It’s brand new!
Ben: Maya?
Maya: James.
James: What?!
Maya: I don’t care how old your suit is!
James: Well, I don’t care either, but I do care about the truth and the truth is that this suit is brand fucking new!
Maya: Ben –
Ben: What?
Maya: I think that’s enough. (pause) Ben, please . . .
Ben stares at James, then holds up the mask and baits James with it.
Ben: Don’t you want your mask back?
Maya: Jesus, Ben –
Ben: Come and get your mask back, James.
Ben holds the mask out.
Silence.
James lunges for the mask.
They struggle for a bit before Ben manages to wrest the mask away from James.
James backs away.
Ben: What’s the matter? I thought you wanted your mask back.
Maya: (to Ben) What are you doing?! I’m sorry, James. I told you he’s been –
Ben: What?! What have I been?!
Maya walks into the kitchen.
She prepares two plates for James.
She walks back into the main room and places the plates on the table.
Maya: Eat, James. Ben, relax.
Maya looks at James.
Maya (cont’d): (to James) Sit down. (to Ben) What are you so wound up about? (to James) It’s okay. Sit. Eat. Manja.
Maya sits and starts to eat.
Maya (cont’d): Go ahead James. Jeez.
James: No, it’s all right. I should probably . . . Look, I’m not going to say there wasn’t some bitterness after you guys got together and I was sort of . . . not banished, but –
Maya: It’s okay. It’s understandable. Let’s just eat. (pause) James? (pause) Oh, the mask.
James: I don’t care about the mask.
Maya: Sweetheart, give him the mask.
Maya walks over to Ben and tries to take the mask from him, but he won’t let go.
They struggle for a moment before Ben releases the mask.
She walks over to James and hands it to him.
James steps toward the table and puts the mask on it.
Maya and Ben look at him.
James takes the mask off the table, wipes the table with the sleeve of his blazer and puts the mask on the back of his chair.
He sits and begins to eat voraciously, as Ben glares at him.
Maya (cont’d): (to Ben) I thought you were hungry. (pause) Up! It’s the return of the grumpy face. I thought you were hungry grumpus. What are you waiting for? Pull up a chair. Make yourself a plate.
Ben silently stares at her for a while.
He walks to the closet and grabs an extra chair.
Maya (cont’d): How is it, James?
James: Great.
Maya: Really, you like it?
Ben walks back to the table and slides the chair in.
He goes to the kitchen and makes himself a plate.
James: No. I’m serious. This is really good.
Maya: Ben thinks I can’t cook.
Ben returns to the table.
Ben: I never said that.
He sits.
Maya: He’s always going on and on about his mother’s cooking.
Ben: I am not.
Maya: No. It’s cute. The boy’s devoted to his mother. Every time I make something he always has some comment like, “My mom uses more paprika” or whatever the fuck she uses.
Ben: Thyme.
Maya: Right. Thyme. She loves thyme. Everything with thyme. Scrambled eggs with thyme. Is that normal? Scrambled eggs with thyme. I mean, who eats scrambled eggs with thyme?
Maya looks at Ben.
Maya (cont’d): What? It’s just a little eccentric, that’s all. (pause) Oh, he’s pouting again. Why are you pouting? I’m just . . . (pause) He has a little mother fixation. Do you remember that about him? You can’t say anything about his mom.
She looks at Ben.
Maya (cont’d): No. It’s cute. (to James) Anything, good, bad, whatever about his mom and he gets this funny look on his face.
She looks back at Ben.
Maya (cont’d): Wait. (pause) There it is.
She turns back to James.
Maya (cont’d): Look.
She looks back at Ben and then to James.
Maya (cont’d): Isn’t that the funniest face? (off Ben’s scowl) Jeez Louise, I’m sorry. Okay? I love the scrambled eggs with thyme. (pause) So, James, did you mean what you said before? (off James’ confused look) Don’t be coy. (pause) About me being different.
James: Yeah, I mean, maybe . . . a little.
Maya: You can say it. I am different. I mean, I feel different. I was looking at some pictures from college the other day and I realized . . . Well, I realized I’m getting older. I mean, I look older. My skin isn’t as tight as it used to be. I’m getting these folds in the corners of my eyes –
James: That’s not what I was saying.
Maya: No, they’re coming. It’s subtle, but –
James: No. It wasn’t really a physical thing I was talking about.
Maya: No?
James: Not at all. You look the same, better actually. I mean, you always looked great, but now you have something else . . . I can’t explain it, but it’s good. It’s definitely . . . good.
Maya: That’s sweet. Isn’t he sweet, Ben? (pause) I always liked you, James. No really. You were always sort of dark and mysterious with those brooding, sensitive eyes. (to Ben) Don’t you think his eyes are sensitive?
Maya waits for Ben to respond, but he only glares back at her.
Maya (cont’d): So James, tell me more about this . . . What was her name?
James: What? (pause) Who? Andalucia? Yeah, I might have been . . . I mean, we’re not that serious. She’s helping me out and everything, but –
Maya: Getting cold feet? When are you going to settle down James?
James: No, it’s not that. I mean, I would . . . settle down. I just don’t want to settle.
Maya: I know what you mean.
James: Yeah. I mean, I was with a few for longer than a month or two, but –
Maya: Nina.
James: Who? (pause) Oh, no. I just thought . . . yeah, I was with her for a couple of months, but that was different.
Maya: Really? Different?
James: Yeah, I mean, that was just fun.
Maya: Fun?
James: Yeah. You know . . .
Maya: Sure. Fun. (pause) What about Ben? Did he think she was fun?
James looks at Ben and hesitates before responding.
James: Ben? I don’t know. He seemed to like her.
Maya: Is that right? (pause) Well, what about it Ben, did you like her?
Ben: Nina? She was okay.
Maya: Okay?
Ben: I didn’t really get to know her –
Maya: You went on trips together.
Ben: Trips? Trip. We went on one trip, maybe, the three of us.
Maya: And how was it? What is fun?
Ben: You know, I don’t remember. It was a long time ago. What are you –
Maya: Me. Nothing. I’m just wondering if the trip was fun.
Ben: Sure. It was a good time, I guess.
Maya: It’s an interesting topic, fun. Like what do people find fun? (pause) What? I’m just saying you never know what someone means when they say they had fun. Like, for instance, what made your trip to Lake George so fun?
Ben: I didn’t say it was so fun. I said I had a good time.
Maya: So, like, what’s your idea of a good time?
Ben: What do you want to know? Do you want to know if I fucked her, is that –
Maya: Whoa, hey, who said anything about fucking? I was talking about fun!
Ben: Okay then, let’s talk about fun. You want to know what I think is fun? Fucking! That’s what I think is fun! That’s what made the trip so fucking enjoyable, the fucking aspect of it! James and I fucked this girl black and blue! Okay? Is that what you wanted to know? We even fucked in a sailboat. I had a patch over my eye and I was screaming, “Ahoy.” (off Maya’s icy glare) What? I thought you were interested in this topic.
Maya: So where would Nina rank? You know, like in terms of fun? Where would she rank? Like, for instance, was she more fun or less fun than Kiki?
Ben: Oh, I see we’re going to go through this again.
James: Who’s Kiki?
Ben: No one. Old news.
Maya: Oh, that’s right! He doesn’t know about Kiki. You missed it, James. See Ben cheated on me. Betrayed me with this ugly little strumpet. The girl wasn’t even pretty, James. She was –
Ben: Look, do you really want to –
Maya: No. Let’s just forget about it. What’s the big deal, right?
Ben: Why do you keep harping on it?! It was almost a year ago! We’ve already been –
Maya: Fine! Whatever! I don’t care what you do with your dick!
Ben: Well, that’s obvious. (pause) What? That’s our big problem. Right? Fucking.
Maya: No. Our big problem is there is no you to fuck! Who am I supposed to fuck?! What is he?! You’re not really like an actual person, now are you, Ben? You’re sort of like this weird phantom just like . . . hovering or something, just sort of lurking in the corners. It’s like your mouth is always moving, but it’s all just . . . I mean the shit you talk about, do you even believe it? I mean, you’ve seen him at parties James. Drunk. Talking about the latest hip novel or . . . his favorite topic, his utopian ideals. Yeah, Ben’s a utopian. He is, but what does he do about it? Do you even vote? You read all these books. You know all these big words, but where does it get you? I mean, you read them and then you put them away. It’s like you’re checking off items from a list of books you think you’re supposed to read. You should see the kind of shit he reads. Marx. Genet. Derrida, Dearida or whatever the fuck. Ben’s a big radical. He’s a fucking landlord! He’s not even a landlord! He mooches off his father who’s a landlord! (breaking down) So why’d you come here, James? Were you interested in what our lives are like? You want to know about all the big times you been missing? You’ve missed a lot of movies. That’s what we do every night, rent videos. All the good ones – Truffaut, Renoir, Ozu. You name a great foreign director and me and good old Benji over here have seen everything. God forbid I should want to watch a normal movie, a light romantic comedy and he looks at me like I’m an idiot. Ben only wants to see the greats. Why? No idea. Do we talk about them? No. I don’t even know if he gets what’s going on. I look at him lying there next to me and I think to myself, “Is he getting this?” I never know. Or I look at him dreaming and I wonder what in the hell is he dreaming about – an infinite list of radical literature with check marks next to every book indicating he’s read them. Or maybe he’s dreaming he’s in a video store with every single obscure foreign movie.
Maya wipes the tears from her eyes, pours herself a shot of whiskey and downs it.
She looks at Ben for a long time.
Then she looks at James for a beat, rises clumsily, goes over to the record player and puts on some music.
She starts to dance sensually around the room.
She moves toward James.
She tries to pull him out of his chair.
James resists.
Maya continues to seduce him.
He polishes off his glass of whiskey and stands.
They dance, moving closer and closer, as the dance becomes more and more erotic.
They kiss.
Ben, who has continued eating, finishes.
He places his napkin on the table.
He stands.
He walks toward the closet.
James runs after him and stops him.
Ben: No. It’s okay. (pause) Go ahead. It’s fine with me.
James: Really? (pause) You mean . . . you’re saying it’s okay. Because I thought. I don’t know. I thought maybe –
Ben: (to Maya) You’re free to do whatever you want. (pause) What? I mean, it’s over. Right? So . . .
Ben takes his shoes from the closet and puts them on.
Ben (cont’d): Go ahead. What difference does it make? She doesn’t love me. I mean, it’s over. Right? (Maya looks down) Well, would you look at that? She’s so quiet. What’s the matter? You were on such a roll. You don’t want to talk about this?
Maya: Ben, can’t we just –
Ben: Can’t we just what?
Maya: No. I just don’t think we need to –
Ben: Really? I don’t know. I think this is sort of interesting.
Maya starts to clear the table.
Ben (cont’d): You missed more than just movies, James. We were gonna have a kid, me and Maya, oddly enough. I mean, we didn’t like plan it or anything. It just sort of . . . occurred. But the most surprising thing about it was that I wasn’t scared. I was actually into it. And she seemed into it too. I mean, we were even picking out names. (pause) I know . . . I know it sounds . . . I could hardly believe it myself, but I really . . . I was really happy about it. I felt like we were gonna be . . . I don’t know what I thought, but it didn’t matter because after a few weeks, Maya started to get nervous and distant and when I asked her what was wrong she told me she was having second thoughts. She said she wasn’t ready. I tried to reassure her. You know? I mean, I told her how I felt. I told her how much I wanted it and how much I . . . oh, fuck . . . Anyway, it didn’t matter because she went and got rid of it. I wanted her to have my child and she didn’t want that. She doesn’t think I’m good enough to be the father of her child. She thinks that I can’t take care of her or myself or anyone else. And maybe she’s right. So go ahead and do what you want with each other. It’s none of my business. I really don’t care anymore. (pause) Go ahead, James, do what you came here to do.
James: Wait a second. You think I –
Maya: Ben and I are tired, James.
James: Wait. What’s . . . so you want me to . . . (pause) Hold on, Benji . . . You don’t think I came here for her. She’s the one who . . . I mean, it’s all because of her that I . . . I mean, she’s the one who forced me out of my . . . of our . . . I was just doing that because . . . Look, I just thought maybe it was going to be like it was with Nina. (pause) There’s no one else, Benji. There’s no Andalucia. There was . . . there is . . . but that’s . . . There’s no record deal. There’s no songs. I mean, there are, but they suck. All of my plans are . . . I thought I was going to write it all down, everything, all of my feelings, experiences, and all of that . . . bullshit in my music, but . . . I mean, I tried, but I can’t really . . . I don’t really . . . I’ve got no talent . . . basically. (pause) God, it’s . . . I just thought I had this special fate. I know . . . I mean, I know everyone thinks that, but I really thought . . . see, my dad, he was right . . . I’m not special. But I’m okay with that. I don’t want to be anything special anymore. I mean, it doesn’t sound so bad being a normal human. (pause) Look, I didn’t come here to . . . I mean, it was you and me Benji. Remember? You used to think I was funny. I used to make you laugh. I thought maybe I could do that again. And I don’t even care if she’s here. I could live with that. It’s okay. I mean, I know you don’t love me . . . at least, not the way that I . . . not the way that I . . . (pause) I just thought . . . maybe I could just sleep on the couch for a while and make you guys laugh. Both of you. Like before. (pause) I’m tired too. I mean, just for tonight . . . maybe I could . . . It’s really coming down out there. I got no place to go. I’m really in a tight spot. (pause) Don’t just stand there looking at me like that. (pause) Someone say something because –
Maya: We’re tired, James.
Brief silence.
James: Is that . . . Are you tired, Ben?
Ben: A little. (pause) It’s been good seeing you, James.
Silence.
James stares desperately at Ben, hoping for one last chance.
James: Yeah . . . well . . . I guess I better . . .
James collects his things and heads for the door.
James (cont’d): Maybe I could just come over sometime. We could do this again. I mean, not exactly, but maybe just . . . for dinner . . .
James stands awkwardly looking back and forth between the two of them.
James (cont’d): Right. Well . . . I’ll just . . .
James stumbles toward the door.
He is about to exit, but he turns around.
James (cont’d): Thanks for dinner. I meant what I said. It was really good. (pause) Okay. I’ll just . . .
James starts to exit, but remembers the gas-mask.
He runs back to the table and grabs it.
He exits.
Ben and Maya look at each other for a long beat.
Maya slowly walks into the kitchen and starts to wash the dishes.
She turns around to look at Ben.
He lowers his eyes.
Maya opens the refrigerator as the light fades.
The light from the refrigerator softly illuminates the two figures, frozen silhouettes.
Lawrence Levine’s play Territory premiered off-off-Broadway at the Bottle Factory Theater and received appreciative reviews from The New Yorker, Backstage, The New York Times, and Timeout New York. This is his first publication in a national literary magazine.