The play begins when a spotlight is shone on a narrator man center stage. The man is well dressed in a black suit, white shirt and a black tie. He dons a pair of dark black sunglasses, through which you cannot see his eyes. His hair is the only part of his appearance that is “untamed.” It’s dyed whatever color he decided for this week. He seems about mid thirties. He is tired, but he keeps a good posture. He stares off for a little bit. He takes a lighter and pack of cigarettes out of his inner jacket pocket. He starts smoking one. He chuckles. Another man, nicely dressed, comes from offstage to the very front, stage L. This man is the announcer.
ANNOUNCER. Welcome, Ladies and Gentlemen to another proud exhibit of nearly musical human suffering, unforgettable platonic love and the ultimate simple hilariousness of death! Tonight we present “Blue.” (Narrator is rolling his eyes at this announcer’s ongoing announcement.) Let me introduce our star for the evening! He weighs in at nearly nothing and he hides from the world behind those thick lenses! (These comments frustrate the Narrator and it is very visually apparent, as he scowls at him. The announcer spreads his left arm, gestured towards him.) Let me introduce--
NARRATOR MAN. That’s enough! (The announcer stops and walks off. While he is screaming at him, he violently throws his cigarette on the ground and stomps it out. He stares at the ground and kneels down to recover the cigarette. He lights it again and resumes his polite posture.) You heard the man. (Pause.) You heard his little introduction. So, there’s no point in talking about me. Might as well get right down to the bottom of this. They say talking is the best way for the soul to move along. Gets rid of all the extra baggage the mind holds. So, I’ll just… get on with it. (Pause. Chuckles yet again.) I remember the day I heard that the legendary John Sirkowski was dead.
Stage L is lit to show a boy sitting on a chair in front of a big table with a small nightstand table at his left. His posture is poor. His hair is as untamed as this narrator man (who is still standing center stage, staring at this new boy.) He is wearing some band shirt and tattered jeans. He is nearly sinking into the depths of the chair while staring off at nothing. There is a second chair that is pulled up at the table in front of him. A phone rests on the nightstand beside him. On the table in front of him is a rolled up bill slowly unrolling itself as it rests on the table. Only a few inches away from it lays a small, empty Ziploc bag. Narrator faces back towards the audience with a shadow of a grin. He takes one last drag on his cigarette and stomps it out for good.
NARRATOR MAN. Make no mistake, Ladies and Gentlemen, I wasn’t always this boring. I was often an entertainer, but this was just not one of my (Pause) shining hours. (Pause. Narrator turns his head back to the boy. He turns back to the audience as he begins to light another cigarette, but as he brings the lighter to it he pauses and puts it away.) I’ll be like this for a few hours. Allow me to fast forward. (The stage L light is shut off for a moment and is turned back on at the sound of a phone ringing.) That is the dreaded first ring, my friends. (The phone rings again.) Pick it up, pick it up, pick it up already!!
The boy reaches for the phone and slowly draws it to his ear.
BOY. (Mumbling) Hello? (Pause.) Who is this? (Another pause.) Alice, wait, calm down. What’s happening? (Pause.) Why’re you crying?
Finally, the rest of the stage is lit and on stage R, Alice is sitting on a stool, talking on a cell phone with the boy, still sobbing and attempting to talk. Narrator still stands there.
ALICE. Dan…
DAN. What?
Pause. Alice sits there crying and the boy, who we now know as Dan, is waiting with his ear glued to the phone, eager for an answer. Everybody, except for Narrator, freezes. Narrator quickly approaches Alice and starts to circle around her as he talks.
NARRATOR MAN. C’mon, toots. You’ve got something to say? Say it. Did your beloved loverman crawl out? Don’t keep me in suspense. Hit me where it hurts!! Can’t you tell that I am dying over there? (Getting Louder.) Jesus, girl, you’ve got some nerve. Just say what you called me to say!!
Everything unfreezes.
ALICE. John is dead.
Dan’s begins chuckling. Narrator backs away with a look of surprise or even disgust on his face, as if he is surprised to hear it. He regains his proper posture and begins to chuckle again. He lights a cigarette.
NARRATOR MAN. I should really quit this. Soon, people’ll be saying that about me. (He chuckles at his own joke.)
Alice, now shocked at Dan’s reaction, is still quivering and Dan’s laugh begins to trail off as he waits for Alice to talk again.
DAN. You’re not joking, are you?
They both sit in silence and Alice is breathing heavily. As she talks, Narrator acts out everything she describes in a dramatic and humorous fashion.
ALICE. (Still struggling to talk and breathing heavily, almost to the point of hyperventilation.) I just walked in…and he was there on the floor. (Pause.) He’s still lying there… (She begins to cry and Dan sits there as Narrator talks.)
NARRATOR MAN. (Kneeling down, talking to the invisible ”John” on the floor. He’s yelling.) You all right there, buddy? (Pause.) You have one too many, my friend? (He chuckles.) The down bringin’ ya down? Did the Chinese dragon devour you whole? A gun in a bundle shoot you in the face? (Pause. He stands up, still looking at this invisible person.) You’re right; I couldn’t be enjoying this any more than I already am. (He puts out his cigarette on John’s face.)
ALICE. (Sobbing still.) He’s just motionless and (Struggles for words.) blue. I can’t see his eyes. (Pause.) I called an ambulance…they should be here soon. (Pause.) Daniel, are you there? Say something, please.
NARRATOR MAN. (While beginning to walk to the front center stage again, he gets in her face. She obviously doesn’t notice him.) Don’t you ever call me Daniel.
DAN. I have to go.
They sit in silence again.
ALICE. What do you mean you have to go? Where could you possibly be going right now? I need you, Dan. This isn’t some joke. John’s dead, he really is.
NARRATOR MAN. C’mon, man. Give her a good excuse. You’re creative enough.
DAN. (He is beginning to raise his voice.) Alice, I can’t do that. The police will be right on the tail of that ambulance. I can only deal with those pigs as much as you can. I just can’t…I really have to be alone, I cannot deal with this.
NARRATOR MAN. (Yelling, with an evil, yet charming grin spread across his face.) That’s not an excuse, that’s an explanation!
ALICE. (Screaming. Nearly cuts off Narrator.) That’s selfish, Dan. Please, I need you. (There is a knocking sound from offstage, coupled with the sound of sirens. She speaks with a strong whisper.) You better get your ass over here right now. (More knocks are heard offstage. She is yelling now.) I’m coming! (Brings phone back to her ear.) God help you, Daniel.
NARRATOR MAN. Damnit!
Light on stage R is shut off. The phone slowly squirms out of his hands and falls. Narrator pulls out the chair from the table in front of Dan and sits in front of him, staring into his blank face. Narrator takes off his sunglasses and puts them in his jacket pocket. He leans back into the chair. He grabs the bill from the table and begins to re-roll it. Not for the purpose of using the drugs, but more using his fingers to toy with the bill.
NARRATOR MAN. It’s going to be a fun night for you isn’t it?
DAN. I didn’t do anything wrong. (Pause.) This is exactly the very first thing John would have done if I’d died.
Narrator holds bill tightly between his right hand’s thumb and middle finger. He stares at the bill while Dan is staring up at the ceiling. Narrator gently places the bill on the table. He leans back into the chair and lights another cigarette. He turns to face the audience again.
NARRATOR MAN. I might have to fast forward again, my friends. It doesn’t look like I am going anywhere anytime soon. (He leans over, holding his head in his non-smoking hand. His face slips down, further into his hand. Once his fingers reach his eyes, he frantically sits up and begins shuffling around in his jacket pockets for his sunglasses.) I apologize. I have forgotten my shield. (He pulls out his sunglasses and puts them on.) I don’t know why I ever take it off.
Dan launches out of his seat and grabs the bill on the table, shoving it in his pocket. He begins to storm out of the house, muttering to himself.
DAN. I just have to get out of here. This is unacceptable. You’re just too much for me. I have to get something. Get something legal. Can’t cause any trouble. Trouble will just get me in to trouble. What to do? What to do? Cigarettes, nicotine, that’s it. That’s the solution.
By now, Dan has caught the Narrator’s attention and he stands up.
NARRATOR MAN. Hey! Wait up!
Dan leaves off stage L and whole stage darkens except for a light centered on our Narrator. He takes the pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and pauses to look at the pack. He puts it back. He takes off his sunglasses and puts them into his jacket.
NARRATOR MAN. I am going to divert from our little tragic story that’s beginning to unfold to tell you my own little…vignette, if you will. (Long pause while he stares at the floor. He takes a deep breath before speaking.) When I was a young lad, my family was very…absent and my mother knew the little hoodlum that was developing inside of me. So, she hired a babysitter. His name was Radu. (The “r” is pronounced with a roll of the tongue.) Every time Radu came over, I remember what my dad said while standing on the front porch, lighting his first whiskey laced cigarette of the evening.
A voice comes from offstage. It’s his dad. Narrator looks back briefly.
DAD. Dan, don’t be a fuckin’ runt. Okay?
NARRATOR MAN. (Yells backstage.) I won’t! (He resumes.) Radu was French. He taught me his language over the months and months that he was around. It added beauty to anything. I would mutter insults to my parents and there wasn’t even a chance that they would understand. (Pause. He begins to chuckle.) Radu knew. He encouraged it. (Another pause.) He would allow me to stay up just long enough to avoid my parent’s drunken stumble through the doorway. When he would put me to bed, I would ask him never to leave. After much pleading, he would simply respond by saying that someone needed to deal with my parents. (Pause.) By the time he was in the darkened hallway, I would whisper “Tu es la?” Meaning “Are you there?” (Pause.) He would wait a while to respond and say “Non, je ne suis pas la.” (Pause.) You can guess what that means. (Pauses for a minute as a small grin begins to slowly creep across his face.) You got it, man. I can’t honestly say that I knew what you meant by it. There wasn’t ever really any to reason to know. Maybe you were being cryptic and trying to explain to me that you were there. All that time, my mother, in moments of vulnerability, would tell me that she was “there for me.” Fuck her. All these people were Da Vincis in the art of bullshit and you knew it too. We were in the same boat, weren’t we? (Pause.) This small bit of cryptic comfort assured me you were there and no one else was. (Pause.) Maybe you were just telling me the truth. (Long pause as Narrator gives in, pulls the pack of cigarettes violently out of his pocket and lights one. He looks to the audience, remembering who he should be talking to.) I suppose we should return to our “protagonist.” (Narrator backs into the dark and leans up against the wall on Stage L.)
Dan runs in from Stage R, is lit. There a man stands behind a counter. He is the manager of the convenience store. The manager is an older man than Dan, about mid-40’s. He looks calm, reading some tabloid magazine, and he has no idea what is in store for him. Dan rushes up to him and lays his elbows on the counter. Dan stares into the eyes of the shocked manager for a while and begins to speak in a strong whisper.
DAN. I want cigarettes.
Manager calms.
MANAGER. May I see some ID?
Dan starts frantically shuffling around in his pocket. He’s breathing heavily. The manager sighs and rolls his eyes. Narrator laughter gradually builds.
NARRATOR MAN. Great Scott, what a dumbass!
Dan slowly and nervously looks back up to the manager.
DAN. I look older than eighteen to you, don’t I?
MANAGER. Look, you little pest! I’ve got more important customers than some little punk trying to use his early puberty to get cigarettes. Now get out of here, I have other customers to attend to.
Dan looks around.
DAN. There’s no one here. (Manager briefly looks up from his magazine and looks back down. Dan stares at him for a while, waiting for an answer. When he has had enough, he lunges toward the manager, grabbing his collar.) Listen, there is a cold, blue body somewhere that has no luck of getting warm anytime soon and as for me, I need nicotine. So, give me what I need or you won’t be able to see your lovely customers for another few months.
There is a tense silence while the two stare into each other’s eyes. This whole time, the Narrator has been softly chuckling and downing the occasional cigarette. He walks up to the two of them, who are frozen. He takes the cigarette pack from his jacket pocket and begins to wave it in Dan’s unresponsive face.
NARRATOR MAN. I got your nicotine right here, buddy! It’s free of charge! You can unhand that nice gentleman’s jugular now. (Narrator chuckles and waits, as if he thinks that Dan is going to respond.) Fine, I’ll take my business elsewhere. (Narrator begins to light a cigarette and shivers.) Why’s it so goddamn cold here?
Narrator removes himself from the situation as it resumes.
MANAGER. (In a strong whisper.) Buddy, I could have the cops here in five minutes and I really don’t think you want them here with your eyes looking as dilated as they do. (Pause. Dan unhands him and begins walking out the door.) That’s what I thought.
The whole stage darkens. This is shortly followed by the Narrator yelling.
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