And So It Goes, a play in one act (Part 1)

[MalReynolds]

(The lights come up on stage. It’s bare, except one man, who is looking at the audience. He has his hands stuffed in his jeans, and he looks kind of uncomfortable)

JORDAN: Hey.

(Fidgets)

JORDAN: I – Welcome, I guess. (Fidgets) You’re the first people – Well, I mean, just look around. There’s nothing in here. There’s you, I guess, I mean, in the seats, and there’s me, I think, up here. But that’s it. For now, at least. (Fidgets) There’s a little bit to this… So, get comfortable, I guess. I mean, if you’re going to – Well, just get comfortable.

(JORDAN crosses to SL)

JORDAN: I died earlier this week. That blew.

(JORDAN sits cross legged on stage)

JORDAN: I was in a car accident, but that’s not important. I’m a ghost. A specter. I’m scary. (Frowns) I always thought I’d rattle chains or make noise when I got all… ghostified. Outside of the noise I’m making now. I mean, pontificating is hardly scary. It could be, though, if I started yelling. (Yells) AM I SCARING YOU YET?

(Runs offstage and comes back on with chains, rattling them)

JORDAN: AM – I – SCARING – YOU- YET?!

(Notices that no one is frightened and drops the chains)

JORDAN: Yeah, I guess ghosts would be less scary if they prefaced everything with, “I’m dead and trying to be scary.”

(Takes a seat DSL)

JORDAN: Well, I don’t really know what I’m supposed to be doing except talking right now. It seems that I’ve been given a stage to work with and some people to listen. So… Listen up, I guess. My name is Jordan Lister, and if people continue to age after they die, I’m twenty two and three weeks.

(A birthday cake is rolled onto the stage. He looks at it, before rolling it back off)

JORDAN: I was raised on a farm with my uncle (A man walks on stage, SR) and my aunt (a woman walks on stage, SR, and puts her arm around the uncle) because my parents were in rehab.

(A man dressed in all black crosses the stage carrying a skull and crossbones poster board)

JORDAN: They were alright people from what I heard. Lots of parties.

(Confetti blasts onstage, followed by a man crossing from SR to SL pushing a broom)

JORDAN: They weren’t an active part of my upbringing, but so it goes, right? I mean, I turned out fine. Just a little dead. I could have been worse off, I think. I could have been partying in rehab.

(The man in all black crosses again, carrying the skull and crossbones with a floppy sombrero on it)

JORDAN: I remember one time, my uncle and aunt were fighting –

(Three men run onstage with a sofa and coffee table. They set it up behind JORDAN, who turns and watches. The Aunt and Uncle take to the stage, and stand frozen, as if in the middle of a fight)

JORDAN: And they didn’t think I could see. I was hiding behind the sofa.

(He crosses behind the sofa and peeks his head over)

JORDAN: Like this, I think. They’re going to fight now.

(The aunt and uncle become very animated)

AUNT: You’re a fraud, you’re a fraud and you know it, and I can’t stand to look at your face anymore!

UNCLE: I’m a fraud? You’re the one two-timing with Farmer Teddy over there on Sedwick Farm, so you call me a fraud?

AUNT: Oh please, you’re not saint, you’re just a two-bit mother –

(JORDAN stands up and they freeze)

JORDAN: My uncle had been cutting the seed he had been selling in order to make more money, and my Aunt had been two timing with Farmer Ted on Sedwick Farm. John Hughes would be proud. They would fight like this all the time, but it would always fix itself. Another bad one was prom night.

(A man runs onstage with a tuxedo in hand, handing it over to JORDAN. He puts the coat and cummerbund on. The man runs offstage and returns with a rose)

JORDAN: My date just arrived at the house. She was terrific. This was five years ago, I think.

(A woman steps onstage and takes a pose like she’s about to knock on a door)

JORDAN: There she is. She’s beautiful, isn’t she? I think she’s the bee’s knees. She was. She’s married now. I think she has a kid.

(She turns to JORDAN and holds up two fingers)

JORDAN: What, two kids? Congrats! That’s – (She’s frozen again) …fantastic. She could have launched a thousand ships with her smile. Could have.

(JORDAN walks around her, admiring her in the dress. On the ‘inside’ of the house, aunt and uncle scurry into position on the sofa, sitting, glaring at each other, frozen)

JORDAN: I really don’t want to do this part again.

(JORDAN steps ‘inside’ and opens the door. GIRL runs into his arms)

JORDAN: Hey, you.

GIRL: Jordan.

(The AUNT and UNCLE are still glaring. The UNCLE looks at the AUNT, stands up, and walks into the kitchen. The AUNT follows)

GIRL: Where are they going?

JORDAN: They’re not bad people. At least they have the decency not to fight in front of my guests.

(AUNT comes tumbling onstage as if thrown. She stays on the ground, motionless. JORDAN rushes over and GIRL is scared)

JORDAN: Grab a pillow –

AUNT: No, no, I’m fine. There was ice on the floor in there, would you believe it?

JORDAN: No, I don’t believe it –

AUNT: And I was walking out to bring you all some lemon – some lemon… Lemonade, and I slipped.

JORDAN: No you didn’t.

AUNT: Yes, I did.

JORDAN: N –

AUNT: (Sharply) Yes, I did!

JORDAN: Where’s Uncle?

AUNT: He went for a drive. He’s out driving right now.

JORDAN: Whose supposed to drive us to prom?!

AUNT: Well, I could –

JORDAN: Uncle has the car.

AUNT: Well, Prom can wait, can’t it? Can’t Prom wait until next year?

JORDAN: I’m calling the police.

AUNT: What?

GIRL: I think I should go.

JORDAN: No – stay. I – mean, the police, because I think Uncle hit you and he’s out driving right now and –

AUNT: Don’t call the police, please.

JORDAN: I have –

AUNT: …please.

(Everyone freezes but JORDAN. He turns to the audience)

JORDAN: This was my first mistake, not calling the police. I wonder…

(Crosses over to ‘the kitchen’ and looks inside)

JORDAN: No ice. Funny, that.

(JORDAN looks at the girl. She’s been crying, but he’s been too busy to notice)

JORDAN: God, she’s crying. I didn’t even – I mean, I was on the floor for so long, I didn’t even bother to – I’m an idiot. But she’s still so pretty even when she’s crying. I should have – Well… This – she’s – her crying, that’s news to me.

(Walks over and reaches out)

JORDAN: I miss you, you know that? Out of everyone, I miss you the most and we never even made it to Prom that year. You were so nice to me. (Is getting worked up, emotionally) If I could change one… one thing, it wouldn’t be dying. It would be this – (Motions, but remembers he has an audience) I mean, she’s a fox, right? Yeah, fellas? I didn’t really talk to her much – at all – after that night. Things got weird between us.

(Everyone clears the stage)

JORDAN: It’s weird, being able to remember everything with such clarity. I’m seeing things unfiltered for the first time, being able to take a neutral stance with my own life. Or death. That, though, was just my living arrangement, you know? It never got much worse.

(The Uncle comes on stage, as does the Aunt. She tries to shy away from him, but he holds out some flowers. It looks like he’s been crying. They hug)

JORDAN: He never hit her again, not while I was living there. I guess my Aunt was right, not wanting me to call the cops. I mean – Well, he would have been in prison.

(They clear the stage)

JORDAN: When I turned eighteen, I moved out with a friend from school.

(A young man comes onstage carrying a chair and a pack of cigarettes. He sits. Jordan moves across from him, and sits on the floor)

FRIEND: It’s going to be totally sweet, Jordan!

JORDAN: I dunno.

FRIEND: (Pulls out a cigarette) You have a job, I have a job, we have enough money… It could be party central! (The skull and crossbones crosses behind them)

JORDAN: …Yeah. (Turns to the audience) Hold on. Look at him. (He’s frozen, of course, leaned over with a cigarette in his mouth) He’s got wrinkles on his face from smoking and he’s only eighteen. We did both work. I never had a problem with getting or keeping jobs – I mean, I guess I’m personable –

(A torrent of people in suits come onstage and shake his hand over and over, handing him pieces of paper)

JORDAN: Through all the bosses and co-workers, I was pretty well liked. I worked hard, kept my head down. Didn’t disagree. But a wise man once said, ‘Complacency under tyranny runs in another guise – idiocy.’

(The stack in his arms gets higher and higher, before falling. The sweeping mover-man comes on stage, pushing the papers off)

JORDAN: I guess I was kind of a ‘Yes-Man.’ Maybe that should be my name. Not Jordan, but ‘Yes-Man.’

(A bed is brought onstage)

JORDAN: I had sex one time.

(Looks at the bed)

JORDAN: Not getting into that now, though.

(The movers who just put the bed down groan and move it back offstage)

JORDAN: A more amusing story is the time I was drunk... Which, of course, leads to the… (coughs)

(The movers bring on objects – a table, a couch, empty beer cans, and they scatter them. More people come on and assume a party position. JORDAN crosses and stands on the table. He has a beer in his hand)

JORDAN: My friend was right. Our apartment was a party zone. Let’s get drunk! (Takes a swig from the can and the party rages around him)

FRIEND 1: Where’s the music?

FRIEND 2: Keep your panties on, I’m working on it!

JORDAN: I’ll sing!

FRIEND: God…

FRIEND 1: Let him!

JORDAN: (Clears his throat) Any requests?

FRIEND 3: I think –

JORDAN: Once in the west Texas town of El Paso, I fell in love with a Mexican Girl –

FRIEND 3: I think he’s going to hurl…

JORDAN: I don’t know that one. Oh, God – (Lurches over. The scene freezes and JORDAN looks up) I don’t think you all need to see that, really. Let’s just move forward.

(The party proceeds and JORDAN is sitting on the couch. A female walks over and sits next to him. Everything freezes)

JORDAN: I had sex one time (Motions to the girl with his thumb). I don’t think she’d call it that, really. I mean, not really a satisfied customer. But we don’t need to get into that, either.

(The scene picks up)

FRIEND 4: Come on to the bedroom.

JORDAN: I don’t – No, I mean, I just kind of broke up with another girl –

FRIEND 4: All the more reason to –

JORDAN: I really liked her –

FRIEND 4: I bet you’ll like me too –

JORDAN: I’m drunk.

FRIEND 4: I’ll be your best kept secret and your biggest mistake.

JORDAN: (JORDAN looks at the audience.) Yeah, she’s right about that.

(FRIEND 4 takes him by the arm and leads him to the side of the stage. She walks off, leaving JORDAN standing, looking at the rest of the party. They seem to be caught in the middle of cheers for him)

JORDAN: And why they’re cheering is anyone’s guess. I think it’s the booze.

(The stage is struck, leaving JORDAN watching as the set is removed. He stands again, alone on stage)

JORDAN: I – wow. Well, I think that might qualify as – I mean, date rape. I guess, I think she convinced me to sleep with her while I was drunk. That’s – I mean, practically unheard of, but… I was drunk. That’s all.

(The lights come down and focus on JORDAN, who is DSC)

JORDAN: I didn’t drink after that night – I mean, there are only so many places to go and most of them were downhill. Not every guy likes to be date raped the first time he – well, takes it to the mattresses. Every night after that, I saw her face and thought about my parents -

(The skull and crossbones move across stage behind him)

JORDAN: - and all the fun they must be having without their son. The state decided -

(A judge comes forward on the tall thing judges sit on. Two people move in front of it, male and female)

JORDAN: - that my parents weren’t fit to raise me. That’s how I ended up with my Aunt and Uncle. I was a kid. I didn’t know what I would be missing out on.

(The judge slams his gavel, and the man and woman sulk away. The judge is taken from the stage)

JORDAN: I still don’t.

(The lights come up a little more and JORDAN paces)

JORDAN: That’s… Pretty much all the me. Jordan Lister, orphan by state, raised by Aunt and Uncle, worked through school, let the girl I love go, lived on my own by eighteen, was – was date raped, and was in a car accident. The timeline of my life reads like someone who was forty. I’ve lived enough for anyone, I guess. When God tells me it’s time to go, I’ll have to agree with him.

(A voice comes on from offstage)

FRIEND: You would.

JORDAN: Who is that? What?

FRIEND: You would agree with God.

JORDAN: What’s that supposed to mean?

FRIEND: That you never disagreed with anything.

JORDAN: … What? Who are you?

(The FRIEND comes onstage and stares at JORDAN)

FRIEND: Do I still have the smoke lines?

JORDAN: Are you dead, too?

FRIEND: Do I have the – The lines. I wasn’t very self conscious about them. It’s not from the smoke, either, it’s scaly skin because I have an allergic reaction to everything. But good guess.

JORDAN: Are you dead?

FRIEND: Come with me…

JORDAN: … Alright.

FRIEND: No, stay there.

JORDAN: Okay.

FRIEND: On second thought, let’s go streaking.

JORDAN: What the hell are you going on about?

FRIEND: Have you ever been streaking?

JORDAN: I’m not taking my clothes off in front of all these people.

FRIEND: You’ll be running anyway.

JORDAN: No. For the last time, no.

FRIEND: Oh, come on. Live a little.

(JORDAN is beginning to relent)

JORDAN: …No.

FRIEND: Alright, well, I’m doing it. You should to.

JORDAN: Come on, man.

FRIEND: Just do it!

JORDAN: Well – there’s… Do I – I mean, what’s – Okay. (JORDAN reaches for his pants)

FRIEND: Leave your pants on.

JORDAN: I thought we were going streaking.

FRIEND: No, you thought you were going streaking. I was never going streaking.

JORDAN: What the hell are you talking about!

FRIEND: I never wanted to go streaking. I just wanted you to, Jordan.

JORDAN: What, are you – you want to see me nude or something? Didn’t you walk in on me in the bathroom, one time?

FRIEND: First, there’s a different asthetic between walking in on someone in the bathroom and seeing them nude. The latter is something that’s soul-baring, earth-shattering, and has the capability of making and destroying lives. And second, no I didn’t want to see you naked.

JORDAN: Then what’s –

(FRIEND pulls out a pencil)

FRIEND: What’s this? (Points to the tip)

JORDAN: A pencil.

FRIEND: What am I motioning at?

JORDAN: The point.

FRIEND: The point is tangible, therefore, the point is real. What did I just do.

JORDAN: … Proved a point.

FRIEND: And what point would that be?

JORDAN: (Fidgets) That I’m a naturalist?

FRIEND: Not quite. Do you think I could do that thing?

JORDAN: What thing?

FRIEND: You know. You conjured up memories. You think I could do that? I have a few to show you. Should help you understand a little more.

JORDAN: Go for it.

(The set returns of the farmhouse, with Aunt on the ground. JORDAN walks over and resumes position from earlier scene)

JORDAN: No – stay. I – mean, the police, because I think Uncle hit you and he’s out driving right now and –

AUNT: Don’t call the police, please.

JORDAN: I have –

AUNT: …please.

FRIEND: Annnnddddd – STOP! See that?

(JORDAN steps forward)

JORDAN: That I care for my –

FRIEND: BZZZZZZZ. Let’s run another past you. Let’s both of us delve here.

(The scene with FRIEND leaning over, lighting a cigarette comes back)

JORDAN: I don’t know about living on my own, man.

FRIEND: Sure you do. Every teenager wants freedom, even if it’s just a taste.

JORDAN: I don’t think I’m ready to leave.

FRIEND: I think you are.

(JORDAN sits there for a moment)

JORDAN: I think I am. Let’s do this!

(The scene disappears. The chair is removed, and FRIEND and JORDAN are once again left on an empty stage)

JORDAN: You were right, I did want freedom. I really did.

FRIEND: You’re thick, you know that? I bet they’ve (motions to audience) figured it out already, and yet I cannot get it through your skull. The point has not been made. It’s all been lost on you, and I guess that’s why you’re here. To figure it out.

JORDAN: Dead? It takes me being dead to prove a point?

FRIEND: You assume you’re dead.

JORDAN: Where am I?

FRIEND: You’ll figure it out.

JORDAN: Will I?

FRIEND: Yes. I have to go now, but if you don’t get it… I’ll be back.

(Turns to leave)

FRIEND: So, I guess I’ll see you in a minute then.

[esupin]

Ever read Our Town? The narrator gimmicks are kinda similar. I thought the different people running around the stage in the beginning was funny. Anyway, I thought it was good. I'm guessing Jordan's 'friend' is really just some manifestation is his mind... and not really his 'friend' at all.

FRIEND: You’re thick, you know that? I bet they’ve (motions to audience) figured it out already, and yet I cannot get it through your skull. The point has not been made. It’s all been lost on you, and I guess that’s why you’re here. To figure it out.

Do you mean just the fact that Jordan agrees with everyone else, or is there something I'm missing?