free play
by Laurence Klavan
Cast of Characters
RAINA Thirties, gentle, stranded, searching
MAYNARD Thirties, unemployed, philosophical, leeching
TREY Thirties, rich, confident, exploiting
WAITRESS Ageless, salt of the earth
SINGER/VIOLINIST Just passing through
SETTING: A restaurant in a city, the near-future.
AT RISE: Thunder, then the sound of heavy rain. A WAITRESS and a SINGER are serenading RAINA, thirties, with “Happy Birthday.” Slowly, we notice the music is different from what we’re used to. They finish with…
WAITRESS & SINGER
And many more!
(RAINA makes a wish, blows out the candles. The serenaders applaud, exit. She turns to her companion, MAYNARD, scruffy, also thirties.)
RAINA
Wasn’t that…the wrong music?
MAYNARD
Merle Pateuil owns the rights to the original. Now you have to pay him for it. It’s nice to be a million times a billionaire.
RAINA
I thought it was in the public domain.
MAYNARD
It was. He bought it back. He’s trying to buy the public domain now.
RAINA
Wow. I didn’t know about that. I shouldn’t have canceled so many subscriptions. I wasn’t loving real life.
MAYNARD
Well, you got to hear the words, anyway. What’d you wish for?
RAINA
I already got my wish. To be safe inside. I’m so glad this place was open.
MAYNARD
I’ll drink to that.
RAINA
I mean, a climate event, a terrorist attack, and an epidemic, all in the same afternoon. Pick a lane, you know? (Laughs)
MAYNARD
(Laughs) Can you say overkill?
RAINA
On my birthday, too!
(They settle down.)
MAYNARD
Well, I’m glad I ran into you. Literally! Thanks for letting me share your cab.
RAINA
Sure. At least I saved one shoe. (Shows her foot)
MAYNARD
And thanks for picking up the fare.
RAINA
I always keep a little cash on hand to help the homeless. So, why not help you, Raymond? I didn’t mean that, I meant…
MAYNARD
It’s fine. And it’s Maynard.
RAINA
Maynard, right! Jesus. Raymond was my ex, and only since last month.
MAYNARD
Sorry. That’s hard. How long had you …
RAINA
Three years. It was a good idea to let it go, but there’s always an adjustment. It’s like walking with one shoe. I’m still limping a little.
MAYNARD
Well—here’s to freedom.
(They toast, clink, drink. A VIOLINIST at another table plays the same music, looking for tips.)
RAINA
It doesn’t feel like freedom.
MAYNARD
What does it feel like?
RAINA
Solitary confinement.
MAYNARD
But that’s not accurate. Your prison door is open. Isn’t it exciting?
Every option is available.
RAINA
If you say so.
MAYNARD
I’m available.
RAINA
Oh. Is that what your inspiring pep talk was about, just…?
MAYNARD
I’m one of your many multiple choices, that’s all.
RAINA
Right.
MAYNARD
Maybe I’m not number one on your list. I may not be ten or two hundred. But it’s like you’re free, see, and scampering in a forest. So maybe I’m a gurgling stream or a strawberry bush or a strawberry tree or whatever strawberries grow on. Do you stick your toe into my stream? Or pluck and bite my dangling fruit? What do you decide to see me as?
RAINA
A deadly deer tick?
MAYNARD
Maybe. I’m not that, but…anyway. I’m only an analogy.
RAINA
Shh.
MAYNARD
What?
RAINA
Karaoke is occurring.
MAYNARD
Oh.
RAINA
And it’s polite to pretend we enjoy it.
(The SINGER has come back on. He or she sings different lyrics to the same music. Applause. A bow and an exit.)
RAINA
Wasn’t that the same music as before?
MAYNARD
Right. (Checks phone) Merle Pateuil just bought the public domain. Now those are the only notes available. You have to pay to use any others. And, believe me, it’s a pretty price.
RAINA
Really? What a strange way to…I mean, I’d have many other uses for money, if I had so much. I’d help the insane who are harmless, adopt all adorable animals and donate to cure every ill. Why would I just horde what other people love to listen to? It’s weird.
MAYNARD
I wouldn’t want any of it.
RAINA
Exactly. Just as I…
MAYNARD
No, I mean, no money at all. Talk about a prison. Please.
RAINA
I don’t mind money. I wish I had more money. But once you’ve got millions, it’s manic, it’s …
MAYNARD
In for a penny, in for a pound. Like, literally.
RAINA
I wouldn’t protest a plumper paycheck. At work, I watch people doing automatic check-outs. Would you, at your job, say no?
MAYNARD
It’s immaterial. I can’t answer. Because I don’t have one.
RAINA
You’re unemployed?
MAYNARD
I’m free. Okay? There’s a difference.
RAINA
Ah.
(Beat.)
MAYNARD
So, what should we get for dessert?
RAINA
Uh, no, I’m so stuffed.
MAYNARD
But you’ve barely touched your taco.
RAINA
I’m completely avocado-ed out.
MAYNARD
Well, I’m still pretty peckish. Do you mind if I…
RAINA
Not for nothing, but they do say dinner should be your smallest meal. A big breakfast, an outlandish lunch, then a dainty or dinky dinner. Word to the wise.
MAYNARD
I’ll make a note for next time.
RAINA
Really? I mean, right, you do that.
MAYNARD
I see no line at the…Could you signal our server? There’s a woman with a perfect pair of profiteroles over there.
RAINA
Sure. Absolutely. Come back soon!
(MAYNARD leaves. RAINA immediately hails the WAITRESS, makes a desperate “check” sign. She goes into her bag. She rifles through it, first confused, then panicked. The hard-boiled waitress has returned.)
WAITRESS
You rang?
RAINA
I can’t seem to find…It was here a while ago…Would you know what happened to my wallet?
WAITRESS
(Shrugs) Your guess is as good as…etc.
RAINA
But I need…That guy, I think he…
WAITRESS
So! For dessert, my chocolate churros are comme ci, comme ça. My sorbet is only so-so. But my profiteroles are famous.
RAINA
No, I really can’t…
(Then she hears something. A nearby phone is playing a song. It has new music: RAINA realizes it. She rises, goes to another table. There is TREY, thirties, well put together. Played by the same actor as MAYNARD? Maybe.)
RAINA
Excuse me? Is that…wasn’t that…isn’t that the actual music to that actual song?
TREY
Well, yes, I guess so. Why?
RAINA
How are you…I don’t mean to meddle, but…how do you have it?
TREY
I paid?
RAINA
You could afford it?
TREY
It seems so.
RAINA
Wow. And those notes are so expensive now.
TREY
You don’t have to loom. This chair is free. And so are you, to sit down. (She does.)
RAINA
I’m Raina.
TREY
Trey. And I didn’t pay much. Merle Pateuil’s an old pal.
RAINA
Ah.
TREY
It wasn’t free. Just not full price. I mean, that’s my Merle. No hand-outs. You always have to earn it. See, two years ago, he staked me to survival. We’d grown up together. He’d gone one way in the world, I the other. Merle was on top, I was insane, in the street, trying to stab strangers. Finally, a fentanyl and ketamine cocktail nearly did me in. Crouching by my hospital cot, Merle paid me to pull through. Now the sky’s the limit. I can have seconds of everything and sing every song. Total freedom. Admit it, One Shoe, you’re envious.
RAINA
(Hides her foot) No, I’m…Don’t you like a limit? Don’t you seek some structure?
TREY
Why? What’s better, breaking down on the road’s shoulder or driving the entire Autobahn, the wind in my hair weave? If you can have it all, why cut corners? Why cut coupons?
RAINA
Because it’s like music. The scales, the notes, the treble clef. It’s a system someone went to a lot of trouble to create. With none of that, it’s just noise, a kind of chaos. Peter and the Wolf? Till Eulenspiegel? The high school assembly would be silent. You learn your limits, then you’re free. That’s the beauty of life.
TREY
You lost me at “limits.” I stopped listening, though I still looked at you, and I’m still looking.
RAINA
I’m sure you look at a lot of women, and a lot of women look back. You don’t need me.
TREY
Nothing wrong with over-abundance. What’s one dollar? Dirt. Lots of dollars? Phenomenal, a fortune. You said high school. “E Pluribus unum.” Out of many, one. That’s what you would be to me.
RAINA
No, thanks. Monogamy, marriage—love has limits, too. And I like it that way.
TREY
Look, my limo is idling outside. I have a new perk, a forever parking space, like a forever stamp, when we still got mail. The backseat is aniline leather, I wouldn’t stoop to semi.
RAINA
I have no idea what you’re saying.
TREY
I’m asking you to come outside with me.
RAINA
I understood that part. I meant the leather thing. And it won’t make it more likely.
TREY
Okay. Your loss? Mine? It’s a mystery.
RAINA
How about we just…sing?
TREY
(Shrugs) Any song you like.
(She picks one from an endless supply on his phone. They sing this new song, tenderly. It’s the one he was listening to before, a standard. It brings them closer.)
RAINA
That felt so…freeing.
TREY
May I get your email address?
RAINA
…Okay. Maybe we can see each other again. If you show up by subway.
TREY
No, I just want to scrape your voice for my A.I. program. I’ll need your initial.
RAINA
Oh. I see.
(He rises.)
TREY
And could I get two profiteroles to go? You can deliver them to my driver’s side.
RAINA
I’m not working here, I’m…
(But he is gone. WAITRESS returns.)
WAITRESS
Why so blue, Barefoot?
RAINA
Never mind. Look, I can’t pay.
WAITRESS
Any friend of Trey’s is a friend of Merle Pateuil’s. It’s on the house.
RAINA
That’s a relief. But speaking of houses, I can’t go home, either. My fob was in my wallet. When it rains, it pours.
WAITRESSIt could be good luck. Stay as long as you like. Here, it’s dry, warm, and funky.
RAINA
Thank you!
(WAITRESS checks her phone.)
WAITRESS
And there’s good news. Merle Pateuil has given away all his music. Now it’s for everyone, no charge.
RAINA
Really? Wow. I guess being a quadrillionaire doesn’t make you a bad guy.
WAITRESS
Go figure. (Calls offstage) Hey! Bring it back, baby! It’s free!
(The SINGER returns with the birthday cake.)
WAITRESS
Hit it!
(The real music to “Happy Birthday” starts. They’re about to sing. WAITRESSS checks her phone again.)
WAITRESS
Hold up.
RAINA
How come?
WAITRESS
Now Merle’s bought all the words.
RAINA
Oh, no!
WAITRESS
Well. Whatever. Here goes nothing.
(To the correct tune, the WAITRESS and SINGER simply start humming.)
RAINA
No. Wait. Let me.
(RAINA collects herself. Slowly, she starts singing. They are nonsense lyrics. Soon she is expressing the gibberish with real feeling. The rain lets up. The sun begins to shine.)
END OF PLAY
Laurence Klavan received two Drama Desk nominations for the book and lyrics to "Bed and Sofa," the musical produced by the Vineyard Theater in New York and the Finborough Theatre in London. His one-act, "The Summer Sublet," produced in the Ensemble Studio Theater Marathon in New York, is included in Best American Short Plays 2000-2001, and his one-act, "The Show Must Go On," was the most produced one-act in American high schools in 2015-2016. An Edgar Award-winner, he has also written novels, short story collections, and graphic novels. His website is www.laurenceklavan.com.