Five Plays. Samuel D. Hunter

isn’t the first time she— . . . Hell, we’ve been together for nineteen years, we’re not going anywhere. (Pause) We’re—fine. I love her, she loves me. We just fight.

       (Tammy enters with Becky in tow.)

       Woah, / what’s—?

      TAMMY: I need you to take Becky. Hi, Eddie.

      TROY: Wait what?!

      TAMMY: Just don’t—. It’s just for a few hours. She got suspended for the rest of the week. I can get off work but not until three.

      TROY (To Becky): What happened?

      BECKY: I was just / telling—

      TAMMY: That matters?!

      TROY: Can’t you just leave her at home?

      TAMMY (Soft): I told you Doctor Kendall said we shouldn’t leave her alone / when—

      BECKY: I can hear you.

      TROY: Well what am I supposed to do with her?!

      TAMMY: I don’t know, Troy! Figure it out! I had to get off of work early, you can deal with this.

      TROY: Fine, whatever. I was going to go home to take a shower and change clothes, but I guess that’s not happening.

      TAMMY: You didn’t shower?

      TROY: Did you want me to pay for a hotel? Do you have an extra / fifty bucks?

      EDDIE: Listen, Troy—go home, take a shower, change clothes. I can stay with Becky.

       (Pause.)

      TROY: You sure?

      EDDIE: I can open by myself. It’s fine, I’ll handle it.

       (Pause.)

      TROY: Jesus, Eddie, I’m sorry. Thank you.

      TAMMY: Thank you Eddie. (To Becky) Don’t—just—don’t—

       (Tammy and Troy exit. Becky and Eddie stand for a moment, unsure of what to do. Finally Becky sits down at a table and pulls a book out of her bag, starts reading.)

      EDDIE: Would you—do you want something to eat? Some / soup, or—

      BECKY: No.

       (Pause.)

      EDDIE: Breadsticks?

      BECKY: No.

      EDDIE: Okay, sorry, I—. I’ll be, uh.

       (Pause. Eddie starts to head back to the kitchen.)

      BECKY: Look I’m not trying to be rude but I just think that you’re part of the problem.

       (Eddie turns to her.)

      EDDIE: Oh. What problem?

      BECKY: Like “the problem.”

      EDDIE: Oh, okay. (Pause) I still don’t think I / understand—

      BECKY: I don’t want to eat your food because places like this are killing everyone. You’re spraying pesticides on our crops and injecting our animals with antibiotics and making people fat and contributing to genocide.

      EDDIE: Oh. (Pause) I brought some fruit with my lunch?

       (Pause.)

      BECKY: No. (Pause) Thank you.

       (Silence. Eddie moves in a little closer.)

      EDDIE: You know, Becky, / my—

      BECKY: Don’t call me that.

      EDDIE: Oh. Why shouldn’t / I—?

      BECKY: I don’t want to have a name.

       (Pause.)

      EDDIE: Really?

      BECKY: No one in America deserves a name. And “Becky” is fucking stupid anyway.

      EDDIE: So what should I call you?

      BECKY: You don’t need to call me anything.

       (Pause.)

      EDDIE: When I was a kid, for a while I started telling people my name was “Randolph.”

      BECKY: “Randolph”?

      EDDIE: Yeah. It’s my great-grandpa’s name.

      BECKY: Sounds like Adolph. Like Hitler.

       (Pause.)

      EDDIE: Yeah, I—I guess it— . . . (Pause) You know, I’ve known your mom and dad a long time, and they—. They’re gonna work this out. (Pause) I remember going to your grandpa’s hardware store downtown when you were just a toddler, and you were there running up and down the / aisles—

      BECKY: I don’t care if they get a divorce.

      EDDIE: C’mon, don’t say that.

      BECKY: Maybe they’ll get a divorce after this restaurant closes.

       (Pause.)

      EDDIE: What?

      BECKY: I heard you talking to your family yesterday. People think I don’t listen but I listen.

       (Pause.)

      EDDIE: Have you told your / dad?

      BECKY: No. Why should I?

       (Pause.)

      EDDIE: It’s not for sure yet that it’s shutting down. We’ve been doing better these past couple nights and I might / be able to—

      BECKY: I don’t care.

      EDDIE: But, I mean—if it does end up shutting down, you guys are gonna be fine, your dad can find work somewhere else—

      BECKY: Seriously, I don’t care. If he loses his job maybe they’ll finally get a divorce, it’d probably be best for both of them.

      EDDIE: You don’t mean that.

       (Pause. Becky closes her book.)

      BECKY: Excuse me?

      EDDIE: I’m just saying, you can’t actually mean what you’re saying right now.

      BECKY: Do you know how many times a day people tell me I don’t mean the thing I am very clearly saying?

      EDDIE: Look, I was seventeen once / too—

      BECKY: And do you know how many times a day people try to tell me they know me better than I know myself because they were once my age? (Pause) Do you know why I got suspended this morning? I was in history class. We were talking about World War II, and I tried to tell everyone about Nanking. Do you know what that is?

      EDDIE: No.

      BECKY: Of course you don’t. It’s a city in China, it was invaded by Japan in 1937 and three hundred thousand people were killed in six weeks. And I pulled out my phone and I typed “Nanking” into Google, and I started showing people pictures. Real pictures, stuff that actually happened. And the principal said it was “graphic,” and I got suspended. For that.

       (Pause.)

       I go to a school where I get suspended for showing people true things from history in a history class.

       (Becky goes back to her book. Silence.)

      EDDIE: I shouldn’t have said that you don’t mean what you’re saying. And—it’s not fair that people fault you for thinking about things they would rather ignore.

       (Becky peers up at him. Pause.)

       My dad used to own this little diner here in town. When I was little he had to close it down. He put his whole life into the place, and when it was gone, he just— . . . He used to spend entire days