Finally, The Finale

by Gayle M. Petty
©1999

an excerpt

CHARACTERS:

SWEET SWENOWSKI BAKER, WOMANIZER (AGE: THIRTY)

RALPH RILEY, WIDOWER (AGE: MID-FIFTIES)

HEIDI HARRIGAN, DIVORCED HELPFUL HINTS COLUMNIST (MIDDLE AGED)

****** IN MULTIPLE ROLES******

JANE RILEY*** GRADUATE STUDENT (AGE 23)
  ALSO AS: RALPH'S DAUGHTER,
           WAITRESS
          NOSY NEIGHBOR (NON SPEAKING)

LIZZIE RILEY*** RALPH'S DAUGHTER (AGE 19)
  ALSO AS: BUS PERSON AT JANE'S RESTAURANT
           MADGE, FRIEND OF HEIDI (MIDDLE AGED)

The Action: Present time. Spring. A small city.
Setting: A Clearing by a woods.
Time: Arbor Day morning.

All characters enhanced with a paper machie body puppet attached at the waist, waltz in and out to plant trees for Arbor Day. They simulate a crowd of volunteers and flurry of activity. By hats, wigs, thrown on disguises, they enter and exit several times. The planting trees may be either literal or symbolic suggestions of fact. ( Music might be "Trees In Love" by Free Hot Lunch.)

There is one very tall center stage tree whose lowest branches just clear the heads of the actors. Down right is the front end of an automobile. This stage fixture remains through out the play. It need be only the barest outline of an actual vehicle. It changes color by reflected light on the fenders and hood.The overhanging tree branches, change type indicating a changed location. All essential working automobile parts mentioned should be available in the scenes in which they occur.

MICROPHONE VOICE:

Welcome and thanks to all Arbor Day volunteers. T.S. Eliot expressed this time of year best when he said, "April is the cruelest month... mixing memory and desire, stirring dull roots with spring rain..."

(SWEET is a young man of thirty. RALPH is in his mid-fifties.)

SWEET:

When I said let's get down and dirty, I didn't really mean this dirt .

RALPH:

You're the Don Juan who called volunteering a synonym for match making. I just don't see it.

SWEET:

I pine for you and balsam. If the tree bends, spruce up your spruce. Get wood in the woods.

RALPH:

For a get-lucky-fellow, I don't see you having any splendor in the grass. The sap is running from this sapling...

SWEET:

You're a real time for reaping, time for planting sort of guy, aren't you?

RALPH:

It's just that I haven't thought about meeting a woman for twenty-five years. You haven't thought about it for maybe twenty-five minutes. I don't know why you're dragging me to this.

SWEET:

(pleasurable sigh) Nah, twenty-five seconds. (Beat) I just see you as a lonely sort of guy that needs to meet a woman. Think of it like fishing. This is the river and we're trolling.

RALPH:

When we met fishing, your shirt read: "All fish fear me. All women love me." This is the kind of advice I would get from you: a baker who thinks his middle name is Stud Muffin.

(Sweet flirts with every passing woman including those far away.)

SWEET:

Trolling. We cast out. Reel in. Cast out. Re(el)...

RALPH:

Seems to me, you didn't win that fishing contest.

SWEET:

You don't catch one on every cast.

RALPH:

Take it like tree planting, not every one of these saplings is going to take root.

SWEET:

You get it. With any luck, I'll meet a woman before sundown. You might if you take notes from the master.

RALPH:

Master?

SWEET:

Women don't call me sweet for nothing.

RALPH:

Well, you go for quantity. I'll work on quality.

(Ralph and Sweet continue to dig and plant upstage out of earshot. Down stage, Heidi and Madge work together planting. They are attractive middle aged women slightly over dressed and awkward tree planters.)

HEIDI:

Imagine my horror when Norman Perkins, senior editor, called me to his office for a little chat.

MADGE:

They say he's trying to make the Gazette more competitive with the Daily Herald.

HEIDI:

My column pulled. Temporarily replaced with Frank's Fishing Fantasia.

MADGE:

You're not the only one Heidi that's been sent back to the general pool. Even marketing was realigned.

HEIDI:

Perkins wants me to diversify my outlook.

MADGE:

Well, think of these feature articles as creative writing exercises.

HEIDI:

It's a redemption motif with Perkins. I'm sent on this Odyssey of feature after feature which I am to infect with a fresh and new angle ---- new perspective ---- fresh insight.

MADGE:

But you are a very capable and captivating writer. They won't get rid of "Helpful Hints by Heidi" any more than they'd get rid of grocery store coupons. Your loyal readers may go north for the summer but I'm certain by fall, they'll be back and vocal.

HEIDI:

Plus, Frank can't write. You knew he was Norman's nephew didn't you?

MADGE:

No, but nothing down at that paper surprises me. Think of it like a rating sweeps. Fishing season. Fishing column. It won't last.

HEIDI:

Whatever he assigns me to write, I'm going to work a helpful hint into the article as a subliminal message to my loyal readers.

MADGE:

And with this event?

HEIDI:

There are particular and specific stain removal techniques, that I'll mention that are also useful for gardeners.

MADGE:

Well, I wish there was a mood removal spray. This ugly weather has me in a funk.

(Ralph and Sweet plant near the car. Heidi and Madge work in muffled chat on and off stage in the natural swing of planting.)

SWEET:

See that? Who left their lights on?

RALPH:

Some damn fool.

(There is a clap of thunder and sound of rain.)

SWEET:

Is it my imagination or are we going to be blessed with a wet T-shirt contest? That's lucky!

(They huddle under the cover of the tall tree and are joined by the women.)

RALPH:

Ladies, squeeze in tight, it's starting to pour.

(Ralph takes off his windbreaker offering it as an umbrella to Heidi. Sweet duplicates this gesture with his flannel shirt.)

HEIDI:

There goes my story for the Gazette. Arbor Day -- A Wash!

RALPH:

There goes the lights on that car.

HEIDI:

My car!

MADGE:

Looks like you'll need a jump.

SWEET:

I'll jump you in more ways than ... (one)

(Ralph elbows Sweet in mid sentence. He is smitten by Heidi.)

RALPH:

I'm not a Sir Walter Raleigh to lie over the puddles but I can ..

HEIDI:

The battery must be dead.

SWEET:

(aside)Just like Ralph's libido.

HEIDI:

There was fog this morning...

SWEET:

I could give you gals a lift if you are stranded.

RALPH:

Not necessary. I've got cables.

MADGE:

Heidi, I'll let you know if they reschedule. I almost doubt it. Call me later.

RALPH:

Add me to your call list. This was great fun.

SWEET:

Later pal, I'm making a break for it.

(Sweet exits left. As Ralph and Heidi approach the dead vehicle, Madge speaks to them out of earshot as she exits.)

MADGE:

Heidi, your life could use a jump start.

(Lights dim and up. Heidi sits in drivers seat. Battery cables attached to front of vehicle. Ralph is offstage.)

RALPH:

When I say, "When" turn the key.

HEIDI:

When?

RALPH:

Now.

HEIDI:

When you say now is that when? When is when? Now? Now is then when?

RALPH:

What?

HEIDI:

When you say what do you mean now? When is when?

RALPH:

Shove over. I mean, please, move to the passenger side. There. It's humming. Let's just idle to make sure.

HEIDI:

I-I - I really am obliged and wish I could repay you somehow but ...

RALPH:

It's no trouble. Fixing cars is more than a hobby-- it's an obsession.

HEIDI:

I probably haven't kept this car up. It's just not something I do.

RALPH:

Just a minute here while I put away the cables. I'll give it all a quick look.

HEIDI:

I really have to leave.

RALPH:

To go write your article?

HEIDI:

It wasn't much of an event was it?

RALPH:

Rained out like the first few innings of a ball game. You're a quart low.

HEIDI:

Is that bad? I mean. Oh well. Sorry. I really have to go.

RALPH:

I've got some in my trunk. (He exits)

HEIDI:

Why are you doing all this? I really should get going.

RALPH:

(Stalling) Rear tire's low too. Let me see if you picked up a nail.

(Takes out a tire gauge from his pocket. Deflates the tire on the sly.)

HEIDI:

I hate this car. It is the last relic of my ex-husband Marvin. Reminds me of every day I worked as a columnist and not a fast feature reporter. Now my trunk is my office. Do you want to examine the contents of my car trunk? I do not talk to my car. I do not even love my car. Yet you embrace this vehicle like it were the body and soul of a living centerfold. Is there something I am missing here? Do you get it ? I Ôm having a very bad day and its not even 10:30. A very bad day, a bad hair day .. this drizzle ... the lights, the battery, the oil, the tires...no article.no, no.

RALPH:

You can't drive it lady. Now then, do you have a name?

HEIDI:

Heidi- Heidi Harrigan.

RALPH:

I'm Ralph. Ralph Riley. I'll give you a ride home. Frankly, what are your choices?

HEIDI:

Slog home in the mud. Phone for a tow. Isn't it starting to rain again?

RALPH:

Stay here. I'll swing by to get you. Then, I'll come back later and fix up your vehicle and bring it by

HEIDI:

O.K. O.K. O.K. I insist on paying you something though.

( Lights dim and up. Lighting changes the color of this vehicle. Sponge dice hang from Ralph's mirror. He drives. She is passenger.)

RALPH:

Where to?

HEIDI:

North on 64th street.

RALPH:

Yeah, I know that street.

HEIDI:

Volunteer for Arbor Day planting before?

RALPH:

Never. Just today. You're writing an article?

HEIDI:

I was a columnist. Now, I do features at the Gazette.

RALPH:

A column?

HEIDI:

It was helpful hints. That slot went to a fishing column.

RALPH:

A lot of fishermen out there.

HEIDI:

Lots of homemakers valued my advice.

RALPH:

My philosophy, if no one sees it, it doesn't have to be cleaned.

HEIDI:

Men think that way: It is easier to close a door than to clean a room.

RALPH:

Exactly. We're not stupid either. I wouldn't wash the boat cover with hand washable silk.

HEIDI:

Your wife will thank you for that.

RALPH:

I'm a widower.

HEIDI:

I'm divorced. (beat) We're practically even.

RALPH:

How'd it happen?

HEIDI:

Everything was O.K. until the aliens landed in my back yard.

RALPH:

That recent?

HEIDI:

He left suddenly, yes.

RALPH:

You're all alone now?

HEIDI:

All alone. (beat) As are you.

RALPH:

Yes. No. Somewhat.

HEIDI:

Some of the above?

RALPH:

Two grown daughters at home.

HEIDI:

I see. Built in housekeeping?

RALPH:

No, I'm the domestic help. You might not know this but automotive chrome cleaner works well on all metal surfaces.

HEIDI:

I hate cars. I would never make that transition.

RALPH:

I hate housekeeping. I guess that balances the world.

HEIDI:

Stop. Stop. Slow down. Turn here, it's that fifth row of town houses.

RALPH:

I'll bring your car by later this afternoon and maybe...

HEIDI:

Could you leave the keys under the mat?

RALPH:

You won't be home?

HEIDI:

No. I'm going to grab an umbrella and walk to the library. I was going to write my Arbor Day article from the volunteer angle. The rain cost me interviews. If I'm lucky, I can write a historical feature on it.

RALPH:

I'm a volunteer, you could interview me.

HEIDI:

You're not an expert on trees are you?

RALPH:

No, but I am an expert on many, many, things.

HEIDI:

I really have to go. And thanks.. Really.

(She slams the door and exits. Ralph swats his sponge dice and takes his tire gauge from his shirt pocket.)

RALPH:

(mimics her) I really have to go. Pssst (He mimics the noise of air leaving a tire.) Thanks. Psst.

(Later same day)

(The setting is the back yard of Ralph's house. Down right is the front end of the automobile shaded by a few branches of a weeping willow. Lining the up stage right wall is the curtained window, door, rose bushes, and stoop of the crabby neighbor. Center stage is the kitchen door that enters Ralph's house. His back yard is filled with assorted flowers in eclectic patches.Sweet fiddles with an adjustable wrench from the tool box by the automobile. Jane closes and locks the kitchen door. She is about 23 years old. )

JANE:

He's not home and I don't think he's done with that one yet.

SWEET:

Oh, it's not mine. I was thinking Ralph'd be home by now.

JANE:

Dad's not here. He's planting trees.

SWEET:

You're his daughter? Knew he was widowed but I missed that he had children.

JANE:

Grown children living at home. Gen -Xers-- that never leave. We give the house humidity in winter like house plants.

SWEET:

I'm a new fishing buddy. Just call me Sweet.

JANE:

Well, he was tree planting 'with some damn fool' he said talked him into it.

SWEET:

That would be me. A sponsored activity by the Junior Chamber of Commerce. I was asked to round up volunteers.

JANE:

You're in business?

SWEET:

"Sweets for the Sweet. Home delivery." If you were a cake I'd hurry up and bake you just so I could lather you with sweet creamy frosting.

JANE:

I major in women studies so cut the crap.. I am practically Professor Xenia Warrior Princess.

SWEET:

Oh, I get the vibes. You're the type who doesn't want me opening doors for you or paying for everything when I take you out.

JANE:

Who said we were going anywhere?

(Sweet entwines himself in a few branches of the willow tree.)

SWEET:

Make me a willow at your gate. And a thorn upon your rose that I might...forever contemplate the beauty that is but thine own.

(He bows dramatically and plucks a flower from the grass in presentation.)

JANE:

You're going to die. Those flowers spell out ...

SWEET:

I love you.

JANE:

Yes. How did ?

SWEET:

I knew you would. I'm irresistible.

JANE:

No, how did you know that those flowers spelled out "I love you." It's a memorial my Dad planted for my mom.

(He puts the flower back in the hole.)

SWEET:

I'm just a sensitive, sensual guy.

JANE:

You will pay.

SWEET:

It's just one flower. You don't think he'll notice?

JANE:

For dinner I mean. Pay for dinner. Drop me off at Delany's restaurant and leave me a big tip.

SWEET:

So, it's a date.

JANE:

No, I'll be your waitress. You don't seem too hard to please.

SWEET:

You can whisper sweet nothings to me as you pour coffee, unless you plan to be desert?

JANE:

Rain check desert. You driving so I don't have to walk?

SWEET:

Let's hope that you become no stranger to the cake mobile. This way. Sweets come to me like bees to honey.

(Lights out)

(Evening Same Day)

(The setting is the back yard of Ralph Ôs house. Ralph is tenderly examining the tulips that grow along side his yard's edge and talking to his flowers. Lizzie, his nineteen year old daughter, bursts out the kitchen door . She is the goddess of discord and her costuming should reflect this. Lizzie puts on roller blades and stuffs her back pack. )

LIZZIE:

Dad, you should try naked yoga. It's very Zen. You wouldn't need Viagra. Men your age do, you know.

RALPH:

Can you keep your voice down? Bad enough the neighbors watch everything. You attract attention as it is.

LIZZIE:

Exit. It's my exit. The house is all yours. Try the yoga. Host an orgy. Tonight, I'm splitting.

RALPH:

I was going to break out the grill. We never eat together anymore.

LIZZIE:

Grill an onion and cry. Why can't you remember I'm vegetarian?

RALPH:

You've had kraut, mustard, onion, relish buns with me before.

LIZZIE:

Janie's at work. You're home alone. All alone. You need to find someone. Your talking to plants is getting creepy.

RALPH:

Maybe I have found...

LIZZIE:

Admitting your problem is the first step. Form a self-help group. Make some friends.

RALPH:

Advise from a herbal tea box? I mean look at you: Are you on drugs?

LIZZIE:

No! I'm working on my "Got Milk Mustache!" You're the one with THREE PINE TREE AIR FRESHENERS in your car. You fry at my every expression -- free expression--- I can't even...

RALPH:

You've just degenerated into a walking billboard for ANARCHY. Christ, I lived through the 60's, Vietnam, a lot, I just get... (softer ) I know you miss your mother. Your teen years were not exactly a tender send off to adulthood.... You looked so much like her before this ...

LIZZIE:

I AM NOT ON DRUGS. It's you that are pitiful -- you talk to plants, Dad. You used to be the coolest guy I knew. Now, you're living your teenage fantasy: "the road not taken" : Duh-- "how pastoral would my life have been if I had become a mechanic and not worked with people's heads." You are pathetic Dad-- You NEED DRUGS!

(The neighbor's door opens and the arm of the nosy neighbor snakes out the door placing a stiff poodle on a leash. The poodle like a Chia pet never moves and has large buggy glassed over eyes.)

RALPH:

I have never seen that dog move. A case of neurotic shy bladder. I mean, looking at you scares me.

LIZZIE:

Counsel him. You're both zombies in the same morgue. You, You, live in the twilight zone!

(Lizzie rolls off on roller blades with her motley backpack and dangling paraphernalia. )

RALPH:

(Shouting after her.) I won't wait up.

(He prepares to grill and toys with a cordless phone. The dog continues in its frozen state. Opens a beer and toasts the dog)

Cheers. You mangy mutt.

(Turns his chair so he doesn't have to look at the dog.)

Why don't I call you Marvin? That's the name of Heidi's ex-husband. Some invisible anonymous, somebody, you could piss next to in a public urinal and never know it. I don't know about you pal but I have a hollow leg up to the fourth or fifth beer.

(The screen door slams loudly and Ralph sits up with a start and sees that Chia poodle is gone. He alternately spins his empty bottle and spins the cordless phone as if it were a spin the bottle game.)

I call her. I call her not. I call her. I call her not.

(Rehearsing, he plucks a tulip to speak to as a stand-in person.)

Hello Heidi, This is Ralph. Ralph Riley. We met. We know each other. I mean , now, I know your car well. However, therefore, sort of... I'd like to get to know you better. Don't think you owe me for your car or any of that. Just a favor and maybe you'd do me a favor ....

(Brings brats to the grill. Opens another beer. Paces. Mumbles his speech again. Tries fast, slow, various emphases and various paces and omissions. Dials the phone.)

© Gayle M. Petty