Tuesday, March 30, 2010
Thursday, February 4, 2010
2/4/2010 Update
Monday, January 25, 2010
1/25/2010 Update
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
1/20/2010 Update
MILLER
Stella, this piano sounds just like when I left it.
STELLA
Oh, are you sure? I thought this key here sounded a little flat.
(STELL A presses a key. MILLER listens.)
MILLER
No, ma’am. Perfect.
STELLA
Ah, well, I’m still learning. Probably just my inexperienced ears, you know. It’s been awhile since I played.
MILLER
No worries, ma’am.
STELLA
Busy today?
MILLER
Oh, not too bad. I got a couple of jobs back in town I need to take care of.
STELLA
Back in town. How I envy thee.
MILLER
Still not likin’ the old place?
STELLA
Oh, it’s alright, I suppose. I’m getting used to the murals. They’re not so – they’re not as --
MILLER
Repulsive?
STELLA
Well, I didn’t want to offend you.
MILLER
No offense taken. I didn’t paint ‘em. I just know ‘em.
STELLA
That you do. That and the piano.
MILLER
How’re the boys likin’ all this circus stuff?
STELLA
I can hardly get them out of the barn anymore. They wake up and they’re in the barn. Dinner’s ready and they’re in the barn. They love all that stuff out there.
MILLER
Like their daddy, huh?
STELLA
Like their daddy. Would you like something to drink?
MILLER
I’m alright. I got a bottle in the car.
STELLA
A bottle?
MILLER
Everyone in Lima’s got a bottle in the winter time.
STELLA
Yes, well, with the children, I just. I don’t know if drinking around them –
(STELLA pauses, remembering, it seems, days when she didn’t have children. Days when didn’t censor her wants or needs or actions for the betterment of others.)
MILLER
You wanna walk me to my truck? (MILLER winks at STELLA.) Try out my bottle?
STELLA
(STELLA considers the offer and smiles a little. She has a suggestive glint in her eye, like she’s about to do something rebellioius.)
I don’t see why –
(Just then RICKY and RAY burst through the front door. RICKY is dressed as a cowboy and RAY is dressed as an Indian.)
STELLA
Boys!
(They continue running. RAY is banging a gun at RICKY.)
Boys! Stop that! Say hello to Mr. Miller.
BOTH
Hello, Mr. Miller.
MILLER
What’re you boys up to?
RAY
Playing cowboys and Indians.
MILLER
Who’s who?
RAY
(This seems like such an obvious question, RAY can hardly believe he’s serious.)
I’m the cowboy. I got the gun. And the hat.
RICKY
And I’m the Indian. I got – I got this feather thing.
RAY
But I just killed the Indian.
MILLER
But how’d you do that?
RAY
(Holding up the gun.)
With this gun.
MILLER
Oh, you know – those Indians were pretty smart. They didn’t just run around in the open for cowboy’s to shoot at ‘em.
RAY
But cowboys were smart, too. They had guns.
MILLER
You need more than a gun to be a cowboy.
RAY
I got the hat, too.
MILLER
Yeah, you got that hat.
STELLA
Ricky, cowboys didn’t always win.
RICKY
What’re you talkin’ about, mom?
STELLA
They didn’t always win. Sometimes the Indian got ‘em.
RICKY
Really?
STELLA
Yes, really.
MILLER
Yeah, back in the circus, we had a couple of acts about cowboys and Indians. And ya know, sometimes that Indian. His hatchet was sharper than the gun.
RAY
That’s crazy.
MILLER
The crazy truth.
RAY
Alright, well, you’re dead Ricky. So new game! And you always say you wanna be the cowboy, so now I’ll be the Indian.
RICKY
Okay.
STELLA
Alright, boys. Go play outside.
(RICKY and RAY exit. As RAY exits, ahead of RICKY, he makes an Indian call until he’s offstage.)
RICKY
(Exiting) Nice to meet you Mr. Miller.
MILLER
Same to you, son.
STELLA
They’re always playing that game. And it’s always the same. Ray, the winner. Ricky, the loser.
MILLER
Ah, they’ll grow out of it eventually.
STELLA
Did the Indian ever win in the circus?
MILLER
Sure, sure. When the cowboy was too drunk to go onstage.
STELLA
Ah, well, thank you for coming out today. Sorry to waste your time.
MILLER
My time’s never a waste with you, Ms. Garrison.
STELLA
Well, I appreciate it.
MILLER
You still wanna walk out to my truck?
STELLA
Oh, you know, I’ve got something in the oven I better get to.
MILLER
(Understanding) Oh yeah, of course.
STELLA
Thank you again.
MILLER
My pleasure.