Five Plays. Samuel D. Hunter

. . . And I’d go to my mom and tell her we needed to do something, that we needed to get him help, or—. And she would tell me that I didn’t know what I was saying. And now I’m here telling you the same thing.

       (Pause. Becky lowers her book, looking at Eddie.)

      BECKY: What happened?

       (Pause.)

      EDDIE: He killed himself. When I was thirteen, with a shotgun. My brother found him.

       (Pause.)

       It’s sort of hard to know how to live nowadays, isn’t it?

       (Pause.)

      BECKY: Yeah. (Pause) Do you have like a banana?

       (Pause.)

      EDDIE: Yeah, uh—hold on.

       (Eddie exits momentarily. Becky puts her book back into her bag. Eddie reenters with his bagged lunch, pulls out a banana and hands it to Becky.)

      BECKY: Do you know if it’s fair trade?

      EDDIE: I—uh, I’m actually not sure.

       (Becky looks at Eddie for a moment, rolling her eyes. She considers, then takes the banana.

       Becky peels the banana carefully, eating small chunks of it.)

      BECKY: My mom sends me to this psychiatrist, Doctor Kendall. The first time I saw him, he just sat there clicking a pen over and over and after like five minutes he tells me I have bulimia. And I’m like, no, I do not have bulimia, I don’t give a shit if I’m skinny or not. It’s just when I eat stuff, all I can think about is where it came from. Like, how the animal was slaughtered, or what third-world country produced the lettuce, how many antibiotics and chemicals have been pumped into it and I just—can’t keep it down. So this idiot doctor tells me I’m bulimic, so I need to take antidepressants.

      EDDIE: Do they help?

      BECKY: I don’t take them. Sometimes Mom makes me take one while she watches but I just throw it up.

      EDDIE: That’s really bad for you.

      BECKY: So is taking a pill to forget about what you’re actually eating.

       (Eddie takes a sandwich out of the bag.)

       What kind of meat is in that?

      EDDIE: Are you gonna tell me how the animal got slaughtered?

      BECKY: Yes.

      EDDIE: It’s cheese.

      BECKY: Not much better.

       (They eat for a moment or two.)

       Why haven’t you told anyone this place is shutting down?

      EDDIE: Well, I haven’t given up, and I don’t want anyone else giving up either. I might be able to save it, the last few nights we’ve done a lot better—

      BECKY: Why would you want to save this restaurant? This restaurant’s for idiots.

      EDDIE: Yeah, well, it’s what we have to work with nowadays.

      BECKY: The fucking wine bottles and fake grapes and shit. Only idiots would think this is like real Italy and forget they’re in the Best Western parking lot.

      EDDIE: I know, I know, but—just about everything else in town has shut down. It sounds dumb, but maybe I can make this place more—permanent.

      BECKY: The Applebee’s was a Denny’s like two years ago. And before that a video store. Places like this barely even exist.

       (Pause.)

      EDDIE: Yeah.

       (Becky puts the half-eaten banana down.)

      BECKY: If I left right now would you be cool and tell my parents that I left when you weren’t looking or something?

      EDDIE: Oh. Uh—where do you wanna go?

      BECKY: I don’t know, just someplace that’s not—here.

       (Pause.)

      EDDIE: I, uh—. I sort of told your parents I’d watch you—

      BECKY: Whatever, I don’t care what you tell them.

       (Becky starts to leave.)

      EDDIE: WAIT—how about—you wanna work here?

       (Becky stops, turns to him.)

      BECKY: What do you mean?

      EDDIE: You’re suspended for a few days, right? Why don’t you work here? You can do dishes and bus tables.

      BECKY: Why would I want to do that?

      EDDIE: I’ll pay you eight bucks an hour.

       (Pause.)

      BECKY: Fifteen.

      EDDIE: Ten. And no lecturing customers about genocide or where the food came from.

       (Pause. Becky moves back in.)

      BECKY: The last ten minutes count as work.

      EDDIE: Okay, sure. And just—don’t tell anyone about the restaurant closing down, all right?

       (Becky heads toward the back.)

       There are aprons on the door to your right.

      BECKY: I’m not wearing an apron.

       (Becky exits. Eddie is silent for a moment, then takes out his keys and goes to a switch on the back wall. He inserts a key and turns it. A few more lights come on, and the Italian music begins to play in the background.

       He is about to make his way into the back room when one of the speakers begins to crackle a bit. He looks up at it. It continues to make a crackling noise.

       He moves a chair below the speaker, stands on it, and hits the speaker a few times. The noise stops.

       He gets down and begins to exit. The speaker crackles again. Eddie looks up at it.)

       Scene Four

       Two days later.

       Tammy and Cole sit at a table with food in front of them. Another table is covered with dirty dishes and a half-full bottle of wine. Cole eats a breadstick, Tammy watches. Italian music plays in the background.

      COLE: Cardboard and salt.

      TAMMY: Oh you’re ridiculous. The breadsticks are the best reason to come here, they’re delicious.

       (Max enters, approaches Tammy and Cole.)

      MAX: You guys doing okay?

      TAMMY: We’re great. How’s Becky been the last few days? She’s been okay, she’s a good worker?

      MAX: Uh, sure, she’s just been bussing tables.

      TAMMY: Is she good at it?

       (Pause.)

      MAX: . . . Yes.

      TAMMY: Good!

      MAX: You want anything else, or—?

      TAMMY: I’ll have another diet.

      COLE: Coffee, please.

      TAMMY (To Max): Decaf.

      COLE: Regular.

      TAMMY (To Max, soft): Decaf.

       (Eddie enters, setting up a table. Max exits.)

       Eddie! I know I already said it but thank you. I have no idea how you got that girl to wear an apron.

       (Becky enters, wearing an apron, holding a bin for dirty dishes. She clears some plates off the empty table.)

      EDDIE: