Here are the first four scenes of Chromium Gardens, a new one-act I've written for a festival of plays set in the future. It is inspired by Ray Bradbury's short story, Marionette's, Inc., from his book The Illustrated Man.

Scene 1. JASON and LANE, a married couple, seated for dinner. They eat in silence, then:

LANE
How is it?

Long moment.

JASON
Hmmm? Oh. (Beat) It's good. It's delicious.

They continue eating.

LANE
Is everything all right?

Beat

JASON
Oh. (Beat) Yes. Everything's fine.

He continues eating. LANE watches him.

LANE
I love you. You know that, don't you? You're everything I ever wanted or will ever want.

Pause

JASON
I love you. I love you too.

Lights Out

Scene 2.
JASON sits on a commuter train, crowded with strap hangers.

Shadows pass over JASON and his fellow travelers, who all wear white paper hospital masks that reveal dull, empty eyes.

The train stops, and quickly empties, leaving JASON alone. We hear the doors close.

CONDUCTOR (VOICE)
Next stop, Chromium Gardens.

JASON is distracted. He notices a tin toy robot that someone has left behind.

The TOY sits on its side, moving, but unable to walk.

JASON removes his mask to consider it.

Lights Out

Scene 3.
JASON and his COWORKER sit at tiny cubicles. They wear ear bud headphones and use each hand to busily tap away at flat white tablets full of buttons. A blue light flickers across their faces as they work.

JASON removes his earphones and walks over to COWORKER.

JASON
Hey...you want to sneak out and get some fresh air?

Long pause

COWORKER
(Does not look up)
No.

JASON
(Beat)
Are you okay?

COWORKER
(Working)
Busy.

JASON
Listen, I have something I need to talk to you about.

COWORKER
(Working)
Can't.

JASON
I'm having some problems at home. With Lane. (Beat) Or maybe it's me, I don't know...

Coworker stops working. He looks up at JASON.

COWORKER
(Ever so slightly more polite)
I'm sorry. In the middle of something.

JASON
Okay. (Beat) All right.

COWORKER
Jason?

JASON
Yes?

COWORKER
I find my work very satisfying.

JASON
Okay.

COWORKER
I love my job. I can't and won't do anything to jeopardize my standing here.

Lights out

Scene 3.
JASON at a park bench, wearing his paper mask.

He stares off into space. Can we hear the sound of the toy robot?

COWORKER, in a new set of clothes, approaches JASON.

COWORKER
Jason!

JASON
Change your mind?

COWORKER
(Giddy)
What? I've been trying to track you down for days.

JASON
Days?

COWORKER
(Conspiratorially excited, about to burst)
I've been having the time of my life. I've got so much to tell you!

JASON
What are you talking about?

COWORKER
That guy you're working with up in that morgue? That's not me!

JASON
What?

COWORKER
That's not me up there!

JASON
Sorry? Did you--

COWORKER
That guy you've been sitting next to? (Excited whisper) It's not me!

JASON
No? Who is it?

COWORKER
(Careful to say it out loud)
It's a replacement.

JASON
A replacement?

COWORKER
Yes, it's an exact duplicate of myself, a genetically engineered doppelganger. I ordered it.

He hands JASON a card.

JASON
Second Chance Enterprises?

COWORKER
Cutting-edge stuff. It's made with my own DNA, but has a circuitry-based brain. It had you fooled, right?

JASON
Yes. I, guess. How did you manage?

COWORKER
It was the simplest thing. I told my wife I was going on a business trip. I left, and my replacement took over.

JASON
And your wife, your kids? They didn't notice?

COWORKER
Not a thing.

JASON
Why?

COWORKER
Why? Why? With that job? You've met my wife. I couldn't take it anymore. Second Chance gave me a solution. A solution where no one is hurt. My wife is none the wiser, my kids still have their Dad. They couldn't be happier. I couldn't be happier.

JASON
What have you been up to?

COWORKER
What haven't I been up to? Traveling, I've been off-planet twice.

JASON
You've been to the colonies?

COWORKER
I've been up to ears in women, Jason. It's taken twenty years off me. (Beat) I'm a new man.

JASON
Don't you miss your family?

COWORKER
I miss them as much as they miss me. I'm sorry, I should be going. It would be awkward to bump into my replacement, you know? Bad form.

JASON
I don't think you have to worry about that. Did you know you got a raise?

COWORKER
Go figure, that thing is better at being me than I ever was.

He stands. Shakes JASON's hand.

Hey, have fun back at the office. I'll send you a postcard.

He's gone.

JASON is left holding the card.

He coughs. Puts on his paper mask and stares at the card.

Lights out

Image, Toy tin robot in the show by Jonathan McIntosh, 2003.
This file is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution 2.

My one-act Portland has been selected for the 2009 Coastal Empire Festival, where it will be performed at Armstrong Atlantic State University on April 23-25th. I'm excited that my play will be up in Savannah, where my wife's family may have a shot of seeing it.

Portland was written a while back when I was a writer-in-residence at the Edna St. Vincent Millay Colony. I had fallen asleep in my wonderful studio (a converted barn with a curved wall) when I had an incredibly vivid dream about the first love of my life, and the room we shared in Portland, Oregon-- after we had broken up. I hadn't thought of her in years, and the dream was an expressionist flash of frozen moments, like a slide show drenched in rain. I began writing a play. First, I jotted down an outline, but when I started writing a scene, I found I couldn't stop. For fourteen straight hours I wrote, finishing as the sun began to peak through my window. The script came to me fully-formed, as if it had been gestating for years. When I finally got to bed, I realized that it was Valentine's Day-- my ex's birthday.

Portland
April 23-25th 2009
Coastal Empire One-Act Festival
Performed by The Masqeurs Theatre Troupe
Armstrong Atlantic State University
7:30 p.m. Jenkins Hall Black Box Theater.
General admission: Only $10.
Box Office: 344.2801

Photo, "Rain, Rain go away. Raindrops" by victoriapeckam, courtesy of the artist via Creative Commons.

A friend called and asked if I was ready for the next Great Depression. "I'm a playwright," I answered, "I've been living in one my whole life." I once read an article on the average salaries of different career paths. Mine was listed right underneath VCR Repairmen. Playwrights exist so that poets have someone to feel financially superior to.

 

Since many of you will soon be entering unfamiliar territory, here are a few survival tips to help you from letting a Depression get you down.

Shoes

Rental policies at bowling alleys are a gray area that can work to your advantage.

Gym Membership

Combine fitness and employment. Jogging while wearing a sandwich board burns twice as many calories.



Simplify

Ask yourself if you really need something before buying. Are 1500 calories a day rule or a guideline? Why am I really wearing shoes? Am I trying to impress the neighbors again?



Insurance

Wear a dog tag that informs your health care provider to euthanize you for anything worse than a broken leg.



Food

Play pac man online (at the library, of course) and use your imagination. No, Inky, if I have another power pellet, I'll simply burst.



Christmas

Let kids know they can have any toy they can make. Santa covers materials and overhead.



Ecology

A refrigerator box studio apartment is recycling at its best.



Wedding Bands

I have two words for the newly impoverished man about to pop the question. No, not cubic zirconia: grave robbing.



Retirement Fund

Have you considered living hard and dying young?

Stealing a page from Madeleine George's blog.

A rather large guy and his skinny friend, both in their early thirties. Popcorn and sodas in hand, a few minutes before the previews.

LARGE GUY
So, I don't know, apparently I was defriended.

SKINNY GUY
Really?

LARGE GUY
Yeah. One day I had like, 157 friends, the next I had 155.

SKINNY GUY
Weird.

LARGE GUY

How many friends you got?

SKINNY GUY

I don't know. Not many.

LARGE GUY
Yeah?

SKINNY GUY
Yeah. Like thirty.

LARGE GUY
You know who probably has a lot of friends?

SKINNY GUY
Who?

LARGE GUY
Your brother.

SKINNY GUY
(Slightly sad)
Yeah. (Pause) He does.

LARGE GUY
You know why?

SKINNY GUY
Why?

LARGE GUY
Frankly, he's a lot more gregarious than you are. He's nicer. You're not an outgoing guy. You're not as friendly.

SKINNY GUY
Yeah...

LARGE GUY
I get these people friending me, people from high school. They come out of the woodwork. This one chick, Laura? She writes on my wall all the time.

SKINNY GUY
Uh-huh.

LARGE GUY
I have half a mind to write on her wall and say, You know Laura, you would never think of saying a word to me in high school, why the fuck do you feel the need to now? I guess that would make me the bad guy.

SKINNY GUY
Yeah.

LARGE GUY
She was one of those girls who drank beer, partied, you know, got around.

SKINNY GUY
Cheerleader?

LARGE GUY
Exactly. Apparently, she's found Christ.

SKINNY GUY
Oh boy.

LARGE GUY
Go figure. The other day her status was: I love waking up in the morning and smelling God.