Ashtray

 

[The scene is set on a rather large porch attached to a brick apartment building in a large city.  The porch is made of concrete with a rather simple wrought iron railing surrounding the perimeter.  Scale may be exaggerated to accommodate for onstage action.  The porch obviously belongs to a youth; it has a grill, assorted lawn chairs, most likely a mountain bike.  CHRISTIAN stands slightly left of center wearing appropriate, if somewhat disheveled, contemporary, fashionable party wear.  He is smoking a cigarette and looking out over the city.  He is obviously a good distance off the ground and has a spectacular view.  His age, specifically unimportant, is somewhere in his 20s.  He has a drink on the porch with him.  Behind him is a sliding door, the only entrance to the stage.  The curtains are drawn to avoid pulling focus.  It is apparent that there is a party going on inside.]

 

CHRISTIAN: Un-fucking-believable.

                        [enter FAITH]

FAITH: What’s so unbelievable?

CHRISTIAN: [turning surprised; putting the cigarette out behind his back, out of her view] You are, Faith.  I was just standing out here comparing your beauty and mystery to the night.

FAITH: I somehow doubt that you were out here thinking about me.

CHRISTIAN: You’d be surprised to know what I think about.

FAITH: I’d bet I’d be more than surprised.

CHRISTIAN: [picking up a drink and taking a sip] That you would be.

FAITH: So why were you out here smoking rather than inside?

CHRISTIAN: I wasn’t smoking.

FAITH: Like hell you weren’t.

            [there is a moment of high emotional tension; the two of them eye each other as if they are having a conversation without words.  CHRISTIAN backs down by shrugging and pulling fourth another cigarette]

CHRISTIAN: [lighting cigarette] Can’t get anything past you. [turns back towards the city]

FAITH: You know I hate it when you smoke.

CHRISTIAN: I know. [pause; he turns toward her] Look, you didn’t seem to mind everyone inside smoking.

FAITH: I didn’t mind about anything concerning those people inside.

CHRISTIAN: Don’t you think that’s a little callous?

FAITH: The truth hurts.

            [there is a pause; CHRISTIAN briefly considers following this, but decides against it]

CHRISTIAN: It’s in the lease.

FAITH: What is?

CHRISTIAN: No smoking in the apartment.

FAITH: You’re kidding me.

CHRISTIAN: I’m not.

FAITH: Then why’d you sign it?

CHRISTIAN: I wanted the place.

FAITH: That’s it?

CHRISTIAN: Well, look at it.

FAITH: [conceding] It’s a nice place.

CHRISTIAN: Thank you.  So I decided not to violate my lease on the first night.  [FAITH barks out a laugh] What?

FAITH: Does it say anything about parties?

CHRISTIAN: I’m sure it does.

FAITH: [gesturing inside] Then what do you call that?

CHRISTIAN: A house warming.

FAITH: A house warming what?

CHRISTIAN: A house warming … party.

FAITH: That’s a volition.

CHRISTIAN: Griffon’s throwing the party.

FAITH: That doesn’t change anything.

CHRISTIAN: Sure it does.  I’m not responsible for the actions of others.

FAITH: I believe the law somewhat differs with you on that.

CHRISTIAN: Conscience is clear.  Soul is clean.

FAITH: Lungs black as midnight.

CHRISTIAN: Nobody’s perfect. [takes a long drag] Besides, I wasn’t planning on kissing anyone tonight.

FAITH: I’m crushed.

CHRISTIAN: I wasn’t talking about you specifically.

FAITH: Oh, I believe you, I do.

CHRISTIAN: [overly aggressive] I wasn’t!

FAITH: I know.  I know. [pause] But that means there are going to be lots of women in there that are horribly upset.

CHRISTIAN: Then they can go home and cry.

FAITH: That’s a little harsh, isn’t it?

CHRISTIAN: [vicious] The truth hurts.

            [pause]

FAITH: [softly] That’s not the only thing.

CHRISTIAN: I’ve broken my share of hearts.

FAITH: [pointedly] I know.

            [pause; they stare at each other as a sexual moment builds; again CHRISTIAN breaks away]

CHRISTIAN: [looking out] I was looking at the city at night.

FAITH: What?

CHRISTIAN: That’s what I was doing out here.  I wanted to look at the city at night.  Soon enough this’ll just be a common place thing for me, I’ll get used to it.  But on this night it’s still new.  I wanted to be filled with innocent wonder.

FAITH: Sure.

CHRISTIAN: Look at it.

FAITH: [looking] It’s a city. [CHRISTIAN makes an expectant gesture] … at night? [CHRISTIAN sighs] In the dark?  What?

CHRISTIAN: There’s just a magic to it.

FAITH: It’s made of steel and stone.

CHRISTIAN: Dreams are realized.

FAITH: Maybe a little bit of glass … and brick.

CHRISTIAN: Lives are lived.

FAITH: Rivers of asphalt and concrete.

CHRISTIAN: Legends are made.

FAITH: Inhabited by a constant, nameless stream of human souls.

CHRISTIAN: And now I’m a part of it.

FAITH: What’s so special about it?

CHRISTIAN: There is so much potential.

FAITH: So much pollution.

CHRISTIAN: [deflated] You always were such a pessimist.

FAITH: You always were such a dreamer.

CHRISTIAN: That’s why I love you, you have no tact.

FAITH: [slight pause] I just call it like I see it.

CHRISTIAN: Even if you’re always wrong.

FAITH: I’m not wrong about you.

CHRISTIAN: Connotatively wrong.  You got the word right, yes, but you got the meaning wrong.

FAITH: You’re criticizing my pronunciation?

CHRISTIAN: Yes.

FAITH: Oh great master of the spoken word, please tell me what I should be saying.

CHRISTIAN: [with a gesture] Dreamer.

FAITH: You saw it with such awe.

CHRISTIAN: There is no other way.

FAITH: I have a word for you: Reality.

CHRISTIAN: What are we if we don’t have dreams?

FAITH: Employed?

CHRISTIAN: I resent that.

FAITH: You would.

CHRISTIAN: And why shouldn’t I? [FAITH shrugs noncommittally] Look, take the city here, it’s going to be a good thing.  My inspiration was running out, there was nothing left for me there.

FAITH: I’m still there.

CHRISTIAN: That’s not what I meant.

            [pause]

FAITH: The money will run out, it always does.

CHRISTIAN: I know, I’ve planned.  I can get a job.

FAITH: A job?

CHRISTIAN: Yeah, a job.

FAITH: What kind of job?

CHRISTIAN: You know, a nine to five job.  Flipping burgers. [FAITH laughs] What?  Look at these hands, they aren’t pure as marble.  They’re hands, human hands, made of flesh and bone.  They can create and they can toil.

FAITH: I’m not doubting—

CHRISTIAN: Christ was a carpenter.

FAITH: What does that have to do with anything?

CHRISTIAN: Jesus.  You know; the savior of mankind?

FAITH: [dryly] Yeah, I think I’ve heard of him.

CHRISTIAN: Well he was a carpenter.

FAITH: [sarcastic] You know, I think I’ve read that somewhere.

CHRISTIAN: I know, I know, but look at him.  Just look.  He had hands, just like my hands.  His father was a carpenter and therefore he was a carpenter.  He built homes.  Shelter.  He said, “Come with me, I will make you fishers of men.”  And these fishermen came.  They left their boats.  They weren’t artists, they were just men.  They went out and toiled with their hearts, but also with their hands.  Healed the sick and raised the dead with their hands.  Jesus had hands just like mine, and with his hands, with holes that were pierced into them, he built a shelter over the whole world.  Now I don’t think I can do that, I’m not even remotely divine, but I think I can build some shelter with these hands.

FAITH: [taking his hands; overcome] You hands are beautiful, Christian.

CHRISTIAN: Art knows no time. [taking his hands away]  I can work and create.

FAITH: I know you can, Christian, I know you can.  I believe.

CHRISTIAN: No you don’t, you don’t have any … [long pause] Faith?

FAITH: Yes?

CHRISTIAN: I …

FAITH: Yes?

CHRISTIAN: I don’t know what to say.

FAITH: A first.

CHRISTIAN: Far from it. [they move towards each other, as if to kiss, then move away at the same time] Far from it.

            [pause]

FAITH: So this party.

CHRISTIAN: This isn’t a party, parties aren’t allowed in the lease.  This is a gathering.

FAITH: It’s a party.

CHRISTIAN: [smiling] A first.

FAITH: Oh far from it.  You used to throw them all the time.

CHRISTIAN: The past is gone, it’s time to let go, move on.  Be here now.

FAITH: So what’s changed?

CHRISTIAN: I have.

FAITH: That’s an evasion.

CHRISTIAN: The truth is never an evasion.  I have changed.

FAITH: Everything changes.  Day into night, summer into fall, ecstasy into sin and regret.  What makes you so special?

CHRISTIAN: I have transformed.  I’m like a human butterfly.  Before I was this worm-like thing drowning in a bottle of tequila, just waiting for some adventurous soul to swallow me down.  But I’ve crawled out of that bottle, retreated into my cocoon and emerged a brightly colored butterfly.  Before I had taken in the joys and sorrows of life, but now, now I’m free to flutter above the fields of daises and pain.

FAITH: I think you’ve had too much to drink.

CHRISTIAN: [angrily] I have not.  Every time I confuse you, you blame it on liquor.

FAITH: How much have you had?

CHRISTIAN: I’ve found clarity.

FAITH: What; like eight beers?

CHRISTIAN: The inspiration of great artists.

FAITH: Didn’t I see you taking some shots?

CHRISTIAN: The energy I feel.

FAITH: A keg stand?

CHRISTIAN: [forcefully] Enlightenment!

FAITH: Please tell me you haven’t been drinking from the bottle again, please Christian.

CHRISTIAN: There isn’t even a keg here.

FAITH: Then what have you been—

CHRISTIAN: I call an egg an egg.

FAITH: You always—an egg?

CHRISTIAN: Yeah, an egg.

FAITH: What about it?

CHRISTIAN: It’s an egg.

FAITH: That’s it?

CHRISTIAN: Yeah.

            [pause]

FAITH: I know that.

CHRISTIAN: I hope so.

FAITH: [pause] That’s enlightenment?

CHRISTIAN: It’s close.

FAITH: What’s closer?

CHRISTIAN: An egg is an egg.

FAITH: That’s what you just said.

CHRISTIAN: The sky is blue.

FAITH: And?

CHRISTIAN: That’s it.

FAITH: Nothing more?

CHRISTIAN: Our culture is so obsessed with always asking ‘what’s next?’  We’re all bread to question everything.  And, and, and.

FAITH: Our culture is seeking enlightenment.

CHRISTIAN: They’re seeking answers.

FAITH: You say it like it’s a bad thing.

CHRISTIAN: It is.

FAITH: Why?

CHRISTIAN: Why do you have to ask why?  What’s next?  And, and, and.  You have the answer.

FAITH: I want to judge for myself.

CHRISTIAN: You cannot judge a fact.  An egg is an egg.

FAITH: [doubtful] The sky is blue?

CHRISTIAN: Exactly.

FAITH: It’s not that simple.

CHRISTIAN: It isn’t?

FAITH: No.

CHRISTIAN: So what you’re telling me, simply, is that it’s not that simple?

FAITH: No … yes … wait, what?

CHRISTIAN: Do you feel like you can judge now?

FAITH: I’m confused.

CHRISTIAN: Exactly, you’re learning.

FAITH: I feel as though I’ve forgotten something.

CHRISTIAN: It’s like this: An egg is an egg.

FAITH: Yes!

CHRISTIAN: And?

FAITH: And what?

CHRISTIAN: And?

FAITH: And what?

CHRISTIAN: And, and, and!

FAITH: [frustrated] What are you talking about?

CHRISTIAN: Words, words, words.  Nothing, nothing at all.  This is the problem.  I’m not talking about anything.  This always happens, this biennial bullshit.  People asking ‘why’s that?’ and ‘what’s next?’ when they already know what the answer is.  They know, dammit.  What color is the pot?  Black.  What color is the kettle?  Black.  What other colors are they?  Black.  But that’s the same color.  That’s the point, that’s the fucking point!  Why can’t people understand this?  The pot calling the kettle black is like saying, ‘Look in a mirror, asshole!’  And people never understand.  They never get it.  What else is an egg?  It’s a fucking egg!  And when you say you love someone and they don’t love you back, that’s it, that’s fucking it! [a moment builds, CHRISTIAN backs away; turns and lights a cigarette]

FAITH: [to his back] I hate it when you smoke.

CHRISTIAN: I know.