Directed by Adam Sussman
Featuring Alexaendrai Bond & Andre Abrahamians
The Big One
Leona
A powerful African-American woman.
Human rights lawyer who works for a non-profit. Ex-army. Interrogated prisoners for army intelligence. Military paid her way through law school. Dressed professionally in suit and low heels. She is used to giving orders. Leona wheels a huge briefcase stuffed with documents.
Steve
A corporate lawyer who wears expensive Italian suits, a Rolex watch and drives a Tesla. Steve is used to dominating conversations by talking over and faster and swearing more than his adversaries. He works for an ambulance-chasing law firm – the kind that does enormous class action product liability lawsuits that pay millions of dollars in legal fees. Steve wears leather dress shoes, perhaps loafers. He carries a bottle of wine in his briefcase. Leona will use one of Steve’s shoes to open the bottle of wine. Steve carries an iPhone and a bouquet of Roses.
Setting
The elegant marble elevator lobby on the 9th floor of the Flood Building, San Francisco and inside the elevator. Time Next week. The end of a long, hard workday.
Lighting
There are significant portions of the play where the action takes place in gloomy near darkness – just enough light shining through small holes in the elevator roof to barely illuminate the actor’s bodies and the walls of the set, but crucially, not enough light to illuminate their faces. Other parts of the play are illuminated bythe light of a cell phone. The conceit is that the audience can see them clearly, but they can not see each other clearly.
Sound
The rumble of the earthquake and aftershocks, the tearing of metal, and the collapse of brick, should be overwhelming, shaking the audience so hard they fear being thrown from their seats.
Text
“/” indicates where the next line of dialogue overlaps.
Leona waits for the elevator. She is on her phone.
LEONA
(To phone)
Okay. Thanks baby. On my way home. I have to hang-up, I’m getting in the elevator. I have to hang up because it’s rude. (she laughs). Love you too. Bye.
The elevator arrives and she enters, presses a brass button for the ground floor, steps back, stares out, waits. Just as the elevator doors are about to close, Steve runs on, jams a bouquet of roses into the gap. Steve is talking on his iPhone.
STEVE
(To Phone)
Hang on, hang on, just, will you, Deborah, hang on a minute, will you just listen to, look, hon, honey-monkey, I know, I know, I know. FYI, Happy anniversary. FYI? For your information? It is romantic.
Steve stares at Leona through the bouquet of flowers.
STEVE
(on phone)
Deborah, Deborah, Deborah! Listen to, listen to me, listen; I’m in the meeting, Gordon is waiting, right here, (elevator warning buzzer sounds) I have to go. Why would I lie to you about that?
Steve steps inside and turns around, facing the doors. Leona adjusts her position to equally divide the personal space between them, but Steve is absorbed in his phone conversation and crushes her against the back wall of the elevator.
STEVE
Gordon says hello. We…we…we…We can reheat that. Who loves you, Bunny Monkey? Okay. Okay. Okay.
Steve hangs up the call, taps phone, transfers to another call on hold, steps forward, releasing Leona.
STEVE
(on phone)
Sonia? You still there? I’m on my way. (He laughs). No really, it was a client. Why would I lie to you about that? Hang on a minute, will you just, Sonia, Sonia, Sonia! Listen to, listen to me, listen; I am married. We have to live with that. Calling my wife is a terrible idea. It’s not the right time to talk about that. Please, please, do not call her, what? Sonia, what? You’re breaking up. Sonia? Bunny?
His phone cuts out amid the rising rumble of a huge earthquake. Not just any earthquake; the Big One, the one Northern California has anticipated for more than a century. The shaking rattling rumbling noise of epic destruction. Leona and Steve are knocked to the floor. The elevator lurches and screeches to a stop. Dust fills the air. The lights flicker and go out. They roll about. The noise and swaying of the building is unbearable. Steve drops his phone and beats the flowers against the floor and screams his head off. Leona is calm.
STEVE
(Overlap with next)
Oh shit! Oh shit! Oh shit! / Oh shit! Oh shit!
Steve curls up on the floor. Leona presses her body into a corner, behind her rolling briefcase, and protects her head with her arms.
At last, after interminable chaos, the rumbling stops. A few final cascades of broken glass and the creaking of twisted steel under stress. A roof panel falls to the floor, revealing Steve and Leona in a dusty shaft of gloomy light, enough to just barely make out shapes in the dark, but (and this is important) not enough to clearly illuminate faces.
They dust themselves off, checking for injuries and bruises.
LEONA
(Overlapping)
Are you okay? Sir, are you / injured?
STEVE
Jesus!
LEONA
I am okay. Are you / injured?
STEVE
That was, / wow!–
LEONA
That was the Big One. We survived the / Big One.
STEVE
Are you fucking kidding me? That was a 7, an 8, a 9, I don’t know, Jesus fucking Christ on a stick! A 10 / maybe!
LEONA
I can’t see you. It’s too dark. Are you okay?–
STEVE
Fuck me, I’m gonnah die, / Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!
LEONA
Sir, you need to calm down. We need to assess / the situation.
STEVE
I need to what? Who are you lady, telling me what to, did you not notice the fucking earthquake? Did you not notice I am stuck in the fucking dark, in a fucking ancient elevator in this fucking ancient building, / about to fall down?
LEONA
We.
STEVE
What?
LEONA
We were in an earthquake. We may plunge to our death. We need to assess and work together / and make a plan.
STEVE
Jesus.
An aftershock. The elevator slips down a few feet in a grinding of metal against metal. The aftershock stops. Steve breathes heavily.
STEVE
Oh shit / Oh shit–Oh shit–Oh shit–Oh shit!
LEONA
Be calm. / We will work this out.
STEVE
What do we, what do we do if we fall? Do we jump? Up? / Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do?
LEONA
That’s a myth.
STEVE
No, that’s what you’re supposed / to do
LEONA
Mythbusters did a show on that. Jumping up won’t / work.
STEVE
So, what do we do if we fall?
LEONA
Lie down flat, on your back. Brace for impact. / Pray.
Steve hyperventilates.
STEVE
(panting)
Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!
LEONA
Take it easy. This building survived 1906 / and the fire.
STEVE
(Panting)
I can’t, I, can’t, I, cant, I, cant, / I can’t breathe.
Steve breathes hysterically. Leona opens her briefcase, removes a legal-size manila envelope, tears it open, dumps the documents on the floor.
LEONA
You’re hyperventilating. I’m going to press an envelope against your mouth and I need you to breathe into it. Do you understand me? / Sir?
STEVE
(Panting)
I can’t see you.
LEONA
I am trained in first aid. Sir, will you breathe into this envelope / for me?
Leona waves the envelope in the gloom. Steve waves his arms and grabs it. He breathes into the envelope and his breath slows.
LEONA
Good. Good. Good. Follow my breath. Take slow, deep breaths. Keep your head down.
Steve calms down. He kneels on the floor,mhead in hands, forehead on floor. Sirens sound in the distance. Leona taps her phone. Steve’s head is on the floor and he does not see the phone illuminate her face.
LEONA
No cell service. No 4G LTE. No 3G. Not on AT&T, anyway. Typical. And no WiFi. Sir, we need to try your phone.
STEVE
(Into envelope)
What?
LEONA
Your phone.
STEVE
Where’s my phone? Where’s my phone? / Fuck me I hate, I hate without my phone.
Steve crawls wildly around in the dark, bumping into Leona.
LEONA
We need to search, systematically, in a grid pattern–
STEVE
Move!
LEONA
You’re pushing me. Hold on.
STEVE
Get out of my way!
LEONA
I have it. Your phone is under me.
STEVE
Give it to me!
Steve gropes for the phone.
LEONA
Sir, remove your hand.
STEVE
Okay! Okay! Don’t have a cow!
LEONA
Here!
Leona hands Steve his phone. He taps the
screen. It’s dead.
STEVE
Oh, fuck Apple. Just fuck Apple, my phone is dead. Fuck! The fuck do we do now?
Leona starts searching for the emergency phone, feeling her way along the wall.
LEONA
There’s an emergency elevator phone. A handset built into the control panel.
STEVE
Why didn’t you say that before?–
LEONA
It’s under the button panel, below the floor numbers–
Steve lurches around in the dark, seeking the emergency phone. They find the phone at the same time. As Leona picks up the old style handset, Steve grabs it from her hand.
STEVE
Got it! Got it. I got the phone. (a beat) What do I do? I mean, how does it work?
LEONA
It should connect automatically just by picking it up.
STEVE
Hello! Hello! Hello, fuck me, is anybody there? No one picking up. No dial tone. Nothing. (Steve slams the phone cradle a few times). Ouch! Ouch, ouch, ouch! Fuck! No phone, we’re dying! I need to make a phone call. Give me your phone.
LEONA
We have no cell service. No Wi-Fi.
STEVE
Maybe it’s back on.
LEONA
I just checked.
STEVE
Check again. If I don’t’ make a phone call in the next few minutes, my marriage is over.
LEONA
I’ll check in a few minutes. If my battery dies and we can’t communicate, we’ll die and your marriage won’t matter.
STEVE
We’re gonnah die?
LEONA
What we need to do now is not bounce off the walls. What we need to do is save our energy and calm the fuck down and wait.
STEVE
For what?
LEONA
For rescue. The building is certainly damaged. They’ll search it for survivors.
STEVE
When?
LEONA
When they get around to it.
STEVE
How can you be so–
LEONA
What?
STEVE
Calm!
LEONA
I’m a vet. This is nothing.
STEVE
Iraq?
LEONA
Yes.
STEVE
You had what, an office job and a computer?
LEONA
I had a Humvee and an M4 carbine. I did interrogation.
STEVE
You mean like where they took the photos? / Abu Ghraib–
LEONA
Abu Ghraib. I was there to shut that down. Army intelligence.
STEVE
And that prepared you for this? Stuck in an elevator about to collapse?
LEONA
I just hide my panic better than you do.
STEVE
How?
LEONA
We have a plan. We checked for injuries. We tried to contact outside assistance. We’ll check on that again, soon. We have calmed the fuck down. Do this with me. Cross your legs. Breathe with me.
STEVE
I don’t meditate.
LEONA
You don’t have to. Just breathe.
Leona sits cross-legged on the floor and breathes. Steve watches for a beat then joins in. They breathe together.
LEONA
Calmer?
STEVE
No.
LEONA
That’s okay. Acknowledge it. Own it. You can’t make it go away. But it doesn’t have to rule you either.
STEVE
Okay.
A beat as they sit mindfully and breathe.
LEONA
Better?
STEVE
No.
LEONA
Stressed?
STEVE
Shouldn’t I be?
LEONA
You were stressed before you got in the elevator.
STEVE
That’s work stress. Everyone has work stress. Anyone who’s a good lawyer.
A beat.
LEONA
You don’t think maybe you’re stressed because you’re cheating on your wife? Fucking two women at the same time?
STEVE
What? What are you talking about?
LEONA
I’m not judging you. I’ve done it myself. Had a husband. Cheated. It is stressful.
STEVE
I don’t know what you’re talking about.
LEONA
I was standing right here in the elevator, listening to your phone calls. I couldn’t help but listen. Two calls. One to your lonely wife, waiting at home on your anniversary and one to Sonia, lonely Sonia, waiting for your divorce, threatening to call your wife and tell her about the affair–
STEVE
That’s not what you heard–
LEONA
Isn’t it? (Mimics Steve on the phone) “I am married. Live with it. Calling my wife is a terrible idea.” You were on your way to meet her and lied to your wife about it.
STEVE
I did not lie.
LEONA
“Gordon is waiting right here, I have to go”
STEVE
It was only technically a lie. Gordon has been in my face all week.
LEONA
I didn’t want to listen.
STEVE
You want me to apologize for using my cell phone in an elevator? Okay. Fine. Whatever.
I’m sorry.
LEONA
You know why cheating is so stressful? You create all these lies you tell your wife and your lover and yourself. “I deserve it.” “No one is getting hurt.” You have to maintain this illusion that there are no consequences, but every successful lie boxes you in. Every new lie causes more pain.
STEVE
What do you want from me?
LEONA
I’m just talking. We’re just talking. This may be the last conversation you ever have.
A beat.
STEVE
I am exhausted.
LEONA
Making up lies is hard work.
STEVE
I am so tired of trying to please them both.
LEONA
It can’t be done. I mean, the girlfriend, she knew what she got into when she hooked up with you, right?
STEVE
Exactly! But now, she expects me to get a divorce and marry her.
LEONA
Will you?
STEVE
No. I love my wife. I love my home.
LEONA
No kids?
STEVE
No kids.
LEONA
So, you told her, Sonia, you told her “no”?
STEVE
Of course not. I said “yes”, in the indefinite future, I’d like to be with her. A lot. That’s not un-true.
LEONA
That’s not un-true. Who can predict the future?
STEVE
I didn’t “lie.”
LEONA
You told her what you knew, at the time you knew it. Fuck her if she expects you to palm read some supposed truth about the future. Who the hell can do that?
STEVE
Nobody can do that!
LEONA
Shit happens. All the time. Strangers meet.
STEVE
All the time!
LEONA
You and me. We met.
STEVE
Right.
LEONA
Just because you hook up with someone doesn’t mean you’re responsible for them.
STEVE
No!
LEONA
Even if you’re married–
STEVE
Am I responsible for my wife? She’s an adult. Being responsible for her would be, it would be–
LEONA
Sexist. / Patriarchal. Throttling her independence.
STEVE
Ex, ex, exactly!
LEONA
Some people have to cheat. It’s in their nature. You can’t expect every person to be satisfied with just a single relationship.
STEVE
Men are like sharks. They have to keep moving or they die–
LEONA
You can’t expect a man to hunt women all his life and then suddenly–
STEVE
The moment he puts on a wedding band–
LEONA
Stop hunting.
STEVE
Sharks drown if they stop hunting.
LEONA
Women can be like that too.
STEVE
You?
LEONA
Oh, you bet!
A beat
STEVE
Wow. You’re–
LEONA
What?
STEVE
You’re like the only women I have ever met who understands that! Understands men, as they are, not as they should be, in some female fantasy with unicorns and fairy dust!
LEONA
I’d just as soon shoot and skin a unicorn and roast it over a fire.
STEVE
You know what my crime is? My flaw?
LEONA
Tell me.
STEVE
I mean, we’re stuck here together, right? We might die, we might as well be honest with each other? Right?
LEONA
I’m always honest.
STEVE
Why? Doesn’t matter. Here’s the thing. What I’m guilty of. Women come to me, I wear my wedding ring right where they can see it, but they come to me. All I do is listen. That’s all it takes, listen just enough to ask questions and the bar is so low, that I look like some kind of sensitive new age guy hero.
LEONA
And then they blame you for being unfaithful?
STEVE
Exactly. They come to me, and that’s my fault.
LEONA
That is stressful.
A beat
STEVE
Hey, you want a drink?
LEONA
You have, what?
STEVE
I have a bottle of Williams Selyem, Pinot Noir. Two-Thousand Twelve. It was for dinner.
LEONA
For the girlfriend?
STEVE
She likes wine. A lot.
LEONA
You were going to have dinner with Sonia then go home late and celebrate your anniversary at dinner with you wife? The same night?
STEVE
The trick is to let them do most of the drinking. And skip lunch.
LEONA
I shouldn’t drink. I need to stay alert.
Steve removes the bottle of wine from his briefcase.
STEVE
Well, I’m gonna have a drink. Before I die. Shit fuck me! I don’t have a corkscrew.
LEONA
Let me have your shoe.
STEVE
Why?
LEONA
I can open the wine bottle, I need your shoe.
STEVE
Why my shoe?
LEONA
Mine have heels. That won’t work.
Steve removes a shoe, slides it across the floor to Leona. She removes the metal capsule sealing the cork, places the wine bottle in Steve’s shoe, taps the shoe and bottle against the wall of the elevator.
STEVE
You’re gonna break the bottle!
The cork slides out of the bottle.
LEONA
Got it. Here.
Steve gropes for the bottle, finds it, takes a long pull on the wine.
STEVE
It’s really good.
LEONA
Okay. A taste. (Steve passes her the bottle.) Mmmmmm.
STEVE
Just Mmmmm? It’s a $130 bottle.
LEONA
I’ll have more than a taste.
They pass the bottle back and forth between them and drink.
STEVE
Where did you learn to open a bottle that way, with a shoe?
LEONA
Fallujah. Or Baghdad. I forget.
STEVE
They let you drink?
LEONA
Basically, no. Soldiers were not allowed to drink alcohol in Iraq. But there was a ton. Iraqi moonshine. Haji Juice.
STEVE
And wine?
LEONA
Sometimes. I did two tours. By the second tour nobody gave a shit and we smuggled in booze. But we didn’t have corkscrews. We could break down and reassemble our weapons in total darkness, but the base commander thought we wouldn’t drink if we didn’t have corkscrews.
STEVE
That’s ridiculous.
LEONA
That’s military intelligence.
A beat as they pass the wine back and forth.
Steve munches on a rose.
STEVE
Want a flower? They’re delicious.
LEONA
You’re eating the roses?
STEVE
Try one.
LEONA
Okay. Keep our energy up while we wait. (Leona takes a rose.) Thanks.
They munch on flowers.
STEVE
Ever had sex in an elevator?
LEONA
No.
STEVE
I have. Twice. Once in the dark, like this, without ever seeing her face. That and the danger of getting caught makes the sex great.
LEONA
Sounds quick and painful.
STEVE
What’s your name?
LEONA
Are you hitting on me? You’re hitting on me.
Steve raises one hand like a shark fin and makes the throbbing, alternating bass shark music from Jaws.
STEVE
Dun-dunt, dun-dunt, dun-dunt! Like a shark. I’m Stephen. Look, we might die together. You could at least tell me your name.
LEONA
Leona.
STEVE
Call me Steve. Please. Don’t call me “Sir.”
LEONA
I’ll call you Sharkey.
STEVE
Better. Leona. Leona the lion. I like that. The untamed, the wild woman Leona. (sings) “Wild thing, you make my heart sing.”
LEONA
I am so not your type.
STEVE
The fuck do you know my type?
LEONA
The fuck do you know my type?
STEVE
You sound like my type.
LEONA
What type is that?
STEVE
Feisty. Like a lion. Like a lioness. I’m not gay.
LEONA
Tell me what I look like.
STEVE
I can’t see you. It’s too dark.
LEONA
You saw me when you got in the elevator.
STEVE
No I didn’t.
LEONA
You looked right at me.
STEVE
I was on my phone.
LEONA
You jammed the elevator doors just before they closed. You locked eyes with me, pleading I would stop the closing doors, before you jammed them with the roses.
STEVE
The roses were in the way.
LEONA
I saw your pupils. You have dark brown eyes. Describe me, accurately, and I’ll fuck you like a lion, right here, right on the floor of the elevator. Before we plunge to our death.
STEVE
You think we’re gonnah fall?
LEONA
It happens.
STEVE
Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck me! (Steve pounds the floor with his fist.) Ouch!
A beat. Steve rubs his fist an calms down.
STEVE
How accurate a description are we talking here?
LEONA
To fuck me?
STEVE
How much detail?
LEONA
My body. My rules.
STEVE
How can I trust you if you make up the rules?
LEONA
I’m an attorney.
STEVE
You work upstairs?
LEONA
9th floor. CJA.
STEVE
The Center for Justice and what’s-it.
LEONA
Justice and accountability.
STEVE
I work on the 9th floor.
LEONA
I know.
STEVE
You do? My law firm gives your organization office space, pro bono.
LEONA
We live off the generosity of the largest ambulance-chasing law firm on the West coast.
STEVE
So, I’ve seen you before?
LEONA
You’ve passed by my door a dozen times.
STEVE
You all look the same, you human rights ladies in navy blue power suits.
LEONA
That’s your best answer?
STEVE
You’re one of those skinny blondes who won’t give the guys in my office even a smile.
Am I right?
Leona illuminates herself with the bright glow from her phone. She taps on the phone.
STEVE
Woah!–
LEONA
What?–
STEVE
Woah, woah, woah, you are not one of those–
LEONA
Still want to fuck me before we die?
Steve slumps against the wall.
STEVE
You just let me go on and on–
LEONA
Yes–
STEVE
Your whole goal was to embarrass me–
LEONA
Yes.
There is another small aftershock and the lights flicker on and stay on. Leona taps on the iPhone (Steve doesn’t know it, but she has WiFi and is texting 911).
STEVE
Got a connection?
LEONA
No.
Steve punches the elevator buttons.
STEVE
Lights but no elevator. (Steve looks through the crack in the elevator doors.) We must be in between floors. I don’t see any light out there.
LEONA
You’ve seen me a dozen times but you don’t remember me. You looked right at me, standing there, the only person in the elevator. What is it that makes me invisible? The color of my skin? My size? The fact that I work for a fraction of your salary? You grin at me and pretend to listen.
STEVE
I do listen. I’ve been listening to you complain about me for twenty minutes.
LEONA
I was right in front of your face and you didn’t see me.
STEVE
And you think, because I didn’t want to.
LEONA
Because you only see women you want to fuck.
A beat.
STEVE
Well, what of it?
LEONA
I know you.
STEVE
No you don’t.
LEONA
We’re friends.
STEVE
I never met you before.
LEONA
We’re Facebook friends. You drive a Tesla.
STEVE
A lot of lawyers drive a–
LEONA
Yours has a vanity plate; “Vroom!” You post selfies with your electric car but never with your wife–
STEVE
The IT guy–
LEONA
or your family–
STEVE
The IT guy installed some kind of JavaScript app. Anyone asks to be my friend, they’reautomatically approved. You must have asked me.
LEONA
No. You asked me. You asked every woman who works in our office to be your Facebook friend.
STEVE
I have a lot of Facebook friends. I can’t know them all–
LEONA
You commented on a video I posted.
STEVE
What video?
LEONA
The guy they made up to look like a supermodel with no hips and perky breasts. You commented.
STEVE
What did I say?
LEONA
You wrote, “I’d fuck that”.
STEVE
I don’t sleep with men.
LEONA
You put two smiley faces to make sure people didn’t think you were gay.
STEVE
I’m not gay!
LEONA
We read your status updates at lunch. Actually, we perform them for each other. Monologues. You’re not a shark. Sharks hide and then blast up from below. You’re like, an ape. A bonobo that posts on Facebook, trolling for any female who will take you.
STEVE
That’s not how it was with Sonia. She came after me.
LEONA
I don’t doubt it. She always went for the wrong guy. We were roommates at Columbia. We moved to California together. She’s dating a guy she won’t tell me his name because he’s married. Some Tesla driving lawyer who promised to marry her as soon as he’s divorced.
STEVE
I did not promise!
LEONA
She says you did.
STEVE
I essentially told her that maybe, in the future, we–
LEONA
You just want to fuck her.
STEVE
Of course I want to fuck her! Sonia! And I want to fuck my wife too! And they both want to fuck me.
LEONA
And you want to stay married?
STEVE
Yes! (Jaws impression with hand up like fin) Dun-dunt, dun-dunt, dun-dunt! What’s wrong with that? I thought you understood men? Oh, screw it. I don’t have to defend myself to you. (A beat) Are you going to tell her? Sonia? About this conversation?
LEONA
If we don’t die.
STEVE
You don’t have to tell her.
LEONA
No. You have to tell her, and your wife. Tell them the truth.
STEVE
Why?
LEONA
Because your lies are causing pain.
STEVE
I’m not in pain. I’m exhausted. I need coffee.
LEONA
Not your pain! Your wife’s pain. Sonia’s pain. Jesus, my pain.
STEVE
So, this is about you. You get all buddy-buddy with me, sharing your wisdom on cheating, “I’d just as soon roast a unicorn.” But when it hits close to home, your girlfriend, then all of a sudden I’m a bad person? Fuck your winding me up and down with your eavesdropping and your interrogation. My wife and I are happy and it’s none of your fucking business. Your hypocrisy is breathtaking. Even for a lawyer.
Leona checks her phone.
STEVE
Anything?
LEONA
No.
STEVE
Really?
LEONA
Would I lie about our safety?
STEVE
That was a question, not an answer. You’re an attorney. You’re paid to lie. (a beat). Okay, look. I don’t want to be hard on you. You’re a vet. I mean, you enlisted for what? 9/11?
LEONA
I enlisted to pay for law school.
STEVE
And for that, you risked your life, they sent you to–
LEONA
Abu Ghraib.
STEVE
I saw those photos. The naked guy on a leash? The guy on a box–
LEONA
The guy on a box in a poncho with the electrodes–
STEVE
and his head in a hood. No one signs up for that.
LEONA
Not me.
STEVE
Bush.
LEONA
My platoon was getting blown up and he goes joyriding on a jet in a flight suit, “Mission Accomplished.”
STEVE
The aircraft carrier / speech.
LEONA
They ordered us into the break room to watch it, live. It was the middle of the night. We thought it meant we were going home. But his speech had nothing to do with reality on the ground. The war wasn’t over. He quoted the bible, “Those in darkness, be free” and everyone gave him the finger. Even the officers. The guards wrote that in marker on the prisoners. “Those in darkness, be free”. It’s in the photos.
STEVE
The torture photos?
LEONA
Yes.
STEVE
The photos came out after Bush made that speech. You were at Abu Ghraib when those photos were taken, you were there to “shut it down” but they were still torturing people, writing shit on their bodies, taking photos.
LEONA
I was assigned to the Army Criminal Investigation Command. We were there to investigate.
STEVE
Did you report it? Or condone it? ( Steve waits. Leona is silent.) “We’re just talking here. This may be the last conversation you ever have.”
LEONA
I had orders.
STEVE
Orders not to report anything–
LEONA
No! Orders to investigate.
STEVE
But not shut it down? First you watched.
LEONA
We collected evidence.
STEVE
You let it go on.
LEONA
I reported it.
STEVE
When?
LEONA
That was up to my superior officer.
STEVE
The guy who took the corkscrews?
LEONA
Yes. That guy.
STEVE
You couldn’t go over his head?
LEONA
He was my commanding officer.
STEVE
So what? These were war crimes. You could go above him. You were obligated to—
LEONA
We had a complicated relationship.
STEVE
Like a complicated personal relationship? You were married?
LEONA
Unless you’ve been in combat, you have no idea what it’s like, you might get blown up any day–
STEVE
So, you had a relationship.
LEONA
We were both married.
STEVE
Is that what you meant, “I’ve done it myself. I’ve cheated.”? Adultery is a crime–
LEONA
I couldn’t go over his head–
STEVE
He blackmailed you?-
LEONA
There’s lots of times in the military when you have no choice.
STEVE
Not if you wanted to go to law school. (a beat). So.
LEONA
What?
STEVE
So, now we both know something about each other.
LEONA
No we don’t. The cover-up was way bigger than the investigation. He’s dead. He’s a war hero. No one’s digging him up. They gave me a medal and paid for three years at Berkeley.
A beat.
LEONA
I texted 911.
STEVE
What? How?–
LEONA
We’ve had Internet since the lights came on. Still no cell.
STEVE
You fucking liar! You said you wouldn’t lie about our safety.
LEONA
You said I was paid to lie.
STEVE
You lied to me because I hurt your feelings?
LEONA
Doesn’t matter. They didn’t text back.
STEVE
Are you sure you can even text 911?
LEONA
Yes. New service. Better than phoning. Usually. Not today.
A beat.
STEVE
Will you tell my wife?
LEONA
I don’t know your wife.
STEVE
Will you tell Sonia?
LEONA
I don’t know Sonia. My college roommate was Leslie. You don’t even know where Sonia went to college.
STEVE
Jesus. Is there anything you don’t lie about?
LEONA
I don’t cheat. Not anymore.
STEVE
You’re a good lawyer. But you can’t change me.
LEONA
I already have. You can see me now.
a beat
STEVE
So, what do we do?
LEONA
We wait.
STEVE
Just wait? A man and a woman, alone, together, in a small space.
LEONA
Yes, Sharkey! We just wait.
STEVE
Well see. There’s still some wine.
Steve holds out the wine bottle. Distant sounds of sirens, coming closer.
Fade to black.
End of play.
Art and Music in Our Souls 