Matthew Mendoza was awarded First Place in Drama in the 2015 Prison Writing Contest.
SCENE I
A slender, slightly hunched man circles a 1984 Buick Grand National in front of a battered house. The car glistens with wax, the shiny black paint almost blinding.
The man is CHRIS TUCK, in his mid-thirties, a recent parolee, and looks it. There is something about him of the beat dog. As he looks at the car he keeps a finger on it, anchoring himself to a solid object that he can turn his back to if something jumps off.
The door of the house is kicked open.
The noise sends CHRIS spinning his back to the car, his front facing the noise and his fists up to protect his head.
JOHN CROW stands in the doorway. He is big and powerful. Also in his mid-thirties and resembles a former athlete instead of another recent parolee. His body, along with his shaved head and sharp features, make him intimidating. JOHN CROW is sweating and he holds a shirt in his hand.
CHRIS
I saw the car from the road. I drive past it every day. Every day, I say, Chris, if that car’s there tomorrow, I’ma stop and ask him about i t. It’s been two weeks of tomorrows and how many do we really have?
(Chris circles the car, putting it between him and John Crow, and pushes down on a fender.)
(John Crow pulls on his t-shirt in one lightning-fast jerk and jumps down off the porch.)
JOHN CROW
I’m not the original owner, but I’ve had it for almost twenty years. I keep it up. Wash and wax a couple times a week. Oil change every three months.
CHRIS
Odometer says eighty-four thousand.
JOHN CROW
It’s right.
CHRIS
The car’s classic, I know you know. What you want for it?
JOHN CROW
Much as I can get.
Chris scoots his ball cap back off his head and scratches his forehead with his thumb knuckle.
CHRIS
Well, how ‘bout this then: What’ll you take for it?
JOHN CROW
I’ll settle for seven grand.
Chris whistles. He jerks open the driver’s side door, reaches in, and pops the hood. He circles opposite John Crow to the front of the car and lifts the hood. He holds it up with both hands.
CHRIS
Nice.
Chris slams the hood. John Crow tenses.
JOHN CROW
You ain’t bought it yet.
CHRIS
Look, I like it. Maybe not seven grand worth, but I like it. I don’t know if my old lady will go for it, but we need another car. We expect our tax return this week.
JOHN CROW
There’s a Honda in the garage I’ll sell for twenty-five hundred.
(Chris smiles and shakes his head. He finally looks at JOHN CROW.)
CHRIS
I don’t want a Honda.
(CHRIS freezes. He looks at JOHN CROW from the corner of his eye. He makes a quarter turn and looks at JOHN CROW more directly. He makes another quarter turn.)
CHRIS
Goddam! John Crow!
(JOHN CROW stares at him without recognizing him.)
(CHRIS jerks his ball cap off his head.)
CHRIS
You don’t recognize me with hair. God damn you don’t recognize your old cellie? It ain’t been that long.
(JOHN CROW nods slowly as recognition sets in. He smiles.)
JOHN CROW
Crisco.
(CHRIS pauses for a fraction of a second.)
CHRIS
I don’t go by that anymore. Just Chris.
(The two men do a three-position handshake.)
CHRIS
Don’t know how I didn’t recognize you. You don’t look no different.
JOHN CROW
You got fat.
(CHRIS pats his little paunch.)
CHRIS
That good life.
JOHN CROW
Guess so. Wouldn’t let you in the pen.
CHRIS
This ain’t the pen. John Crow! Your baby too. Selling your Grand National. You kept a picture of it over your bunk.
JOHN CROW
You remember?
CHRIS
There’s lots of shit I can’t forget.
JOHN CROW
Yeah. That car may be the only thing I never fucked up.
CHRIS
And still selling it. (Pause.) You know what? Let’s celebrate.
JOHN CROW
I don’t know.
CHRIS
Me and Jamie’ll come by with some beers. Be like old times. Just instead of hooch we’ll have beers and have some real girls.
JOHN CROW
I don’t know, Crisco.
CHRIS
Come on, call me Chris. (Pause.) What’s to know? You still on parole?
JOHN CROW
Just off. I’m not that guy anymore.
CHRIS
You look exactly the same. Jamie’ll say you need a woman to fatten you up. That’s what she’ll say. Look, we’ll stop by for a bit, drink some beers. Man, I can’t believe it. John Crow, the legend hisself, huh? Just yesterday I told a story about you. Remember those dudes tried to hog us for our seats? How many’d you whip? Five?
JOHN CROW
Sounds right, I guess.
CHRIS
Damn right.
JOHN CROW
They were just some dumb kids.
CHRIS
You beat that one half-retard.
JOHN CROW
Yeah.
CHRIS
Tonight, huh? I gotta go. Tonight.
(CHRIS jogs off stage to his car.)
(JOHN CROW looks up at the doorway to the young Filipino woman there, SOMSRI.)
SCENE I ENDS.
Curtain Ends Scene I
SCENE II
JOHN CROW’s house. A realtor might call the house charming—real old and small, though it’s nicer inside than it is outside. And clean. The furniture is simple and strong. Though it’s old, the furniture is in good condition. Bursting from corners and creeping across the furniture are vaguely tropical plants. The effect is that of a men’s club in downtown Bangkok, rather than a house in Garland, Texas.
A toolbox sits on the arm of the couch. It wiggles, shimmies, then slides down onto the cushions. The couch slides inches at a time. Soft, delicate moans are accented by hard growls. The toolbox spills to the floor, scattering tools everywhere.
The doorbell BUZZES. A SHUSH. MURMURING. The couch starts rocking again.
The doorbell BUZZES, longer this time.
JOHN CROW and SOMSRI rise up from behind the couch. They are dressed but just barely. SOMSRI, in her mid-twenties, is slender and dark-haired. She clings to the powerful body of her husband, JOHN CROW SAVAGE, and glances from JOHN CROW to the door.
A loud, hard KNOCK.
JOHN CROW slaps SOMSRI‘s ass.
JOHN CROW
Go get dressed.
(SOMSRI scoops up her skirt and her shirt. JOHN CROW suddenly grabs her and pulls her to him. He takes a big kiss from her. She melts into the kiss. JOHN CROW lets her go and SOMSRI smiles up at him. She pulls away. JOHN CROW tries to swat SOMSRI on the ass but she jumps and darts off on her tippy-toes across the room.)
(As JOHN CROW crosses to the door, he pulls on his jeans and buttons them. He takes a quick look out the window, then jerks open the door. He walks away from the door, leaving it open.)
JOHN CROW
Let me get the keys. The Honda’s an oh-six…
(LIZ CHOUTEAU, barely in her mid-twenties and chubby, bobs in through the doorway, then follows JOHN CROW into the house. Her skirt and shirt are drab and cheap. She holds her briefcase in front of her.)
(JOHN CROW grabs some keys off the coffee table. He rights the toolbox on the couch and scoops some tools up and tosses them into it.)
JOHN CROW
It has fifty-two thousand miles on it, which is nothing on a Honda—
MS. CHOUTEAU
—Mr. Savage, I’m Ms. Chouteau. I’m from the parole office.
(JOHN CROW stops cold.)
JOHN CROW
I’m not on parole. I’m off. Last Thursday.
MS. CHOUTEAU
John Crow Savage. 1414 Pittsburg.
JOHN CROW
No. In the mail. Last Thursday.
MS. CHOUTEAU
Well, technically—
JOHN CROW
No. No technically. I have a certificate. You sent me one. I never missed a meeting—
MS. CHOUTEAU
—I understand—
JOHN CROW
—I never failed a piss test. I followed all your goddamn rules. Paid all your nickel-and-dime fees. Is it the computer? Let me tell you about the computer. That idiot that sits at the desk next to you? He’s the same idiot that types everything into that computer that you all think is infallible.
(JOHN CROW slams the toolbox shut.)
(MS. CHOUTEAU raises the briefcase defensively.)
JOHN CROW
Put your briefcase down, Ms…
MS. CHOUTEAU
…Chouteau.
JOHN CROW
Chouteau. I’m not gonna hurt you.
(MS. CHOUTEAU giggles, relieved. She lowers her briefcase.)
MS. CHOUTEAU
Infallible?
JOHN CROW
Yeah. It means unable to make a mistake.
MS. CHOUTEAU
I know what it means, Mr. Savage. I thought it was a good word.
JOHN CROW
Ten years of playing scrabble.
MS. CHOUTEAU
I thought everyone played poker in the pen.
JOHN CROW
Cards are contraband in Texas prisons. No reason for the department of parole to know that though. Or teach anything about prisons in your Criminal Justice college classes.
MS. CHOUTEAU
Mr. Savage, I’m not trying to be confrontational. The mistake was ours. We updated some software that counted leap years. We don’t count leap years. This is system-wide and the software had a bug. Somehow, they counted twenty-nine days in February. Outside of a dead body…ha, ha… There is nothing that I can find that will make me revoke your parole. So, at least until midnight tonight, continue to do what you’ve been doing. (Pause.) So, let me ask you a few questions, get this out of the way, then you can get on with the rest of your life.
(JOHN CROW snaps his hand at the couch.)
(As MS. CHOUTEAU sits, she glances around the small house.)
MS. CHOUTEAU
By the way, I happen to know that guy. The idiot that does our data entry. I wouldn’t let him order me a sandwich.
(JOHN CROW notices his shirt on the floor. He snatches it and begins to dab at his body with it.)
(MS. CHOUTEAU follows the shirt across John Crow’s body. He catches her. She looks down.)
MS. CHOUTEAU
Ten years is a long time.
(JOHN CROW jerks his shirt on. He stops, his tee half on and his head poking through the neck.)
JOHN CROW
Try it.
(JOHN CROW punches his arms through his tee and jerks it down to his waist. He drops into the leather chair.)
(When JOHN CROW sits, Ms. Chouteau bends for her briefcase and notices a screwdriver. She picks it up and wiggles it at JOHN CROW before she sets it on the coffee table.)
(MS. CHOUTEAU takes a deep breath and exhales. She examines the house. Her eyes register, catalog, and move on, each with a little nod.)
(Finally she pulls her briefcase onto her lap, snaps it open, and pulls a thick file from it. She closes the briefcase and sets it on the floor. She opens the file and reads it.)
(JOHN CROW taps his foot.)
MS. CHOUTEAU
John Crow Savage.
(She looks up.)
I’ve never seen that name.
JOHN CROW
It’s a family name.
MS. CHOUTEAU
Crow is a family name.
JOHN CROW
I’m named after my dad.
MS. CHOUTEAU
Oh really.
JOHN CROW
He was full of caw-caw.
(MS. CHOUTEAU, confused, studies JOHN CROW’s expressionless face. She eventually smiles.)
MS. CHOUTEAU
Oh, a joke. You’re teasing me. I never get a joke with a smile.
JOHN CROW
The things that I think are funny are hard to smile about.
(They study each other for a moment. She clicks her pen.)
MS. CHOUTEAU
So, no dead bodies, right?
JOHN CROW
Not yet. Drink?
MS. CHOUTEAU
Oh, I can’t have a drink—
JOHN CROW
—Somsri!
(SOMSRI, now dressed, walks slowly into the room.)
(JOHN CROW holds up two fingers.)
JOHN CROW
Two glasses of water, Somsri.
(SOMSRI nods and walks away. She lingers in the doorway and watches MS. CHOUTEAU before exiting.)
(MS. CHOUTEAU, confused, flips through the file.)
(Faint kitchen NOISES. FAUCET.)
(SOMSRI brings in the glasses of water. She hands one to MS. CHOUTEAU. SOMSRI then takes the stone coasters from the table and places one in front of MS. CHOUTEAU, the other in front of JOHN CROW. She places JOHN CROW’s water on the coaster.)
(JOHN CROW takes SOMSRI’s hand and kisses it. SOMSRI relaxes.)
MS. CHOUTEAU
Hello.
SOMSRI
Hi.
(SOMSRI looks quickly at JOHN CROW. He nods.)
JOHN CROW
She’s still learning.
MS. CHOUTEAU
She’s your… girlfriend.
JOHN CROW
No. My wife.
MS. CHOUTEAU
Where did you meet?
JOHN CROW
Church.
MS. CHOUTEAU
Another joke… This has you single—
(MS. CHOUTEAU flips back through the file.)
—Even though you marked married.
(MS. CHOUTEAU stiffens.)
MS. CHOUTEAU
Any contact with police?
JOHN CROW
No.
MS. CHOUTEAU
No change of address. Marital status, same, I guess. Self-employed. They frown on that. But you stayed current on restitution.
JOHN CROW
I’m the only one who would hire me.
MS. CHOUTEAU
You sell cars?
JOHN CROW
I fix ’em first. Then sell ’em.
(MS. CHOUTEAU clicks her pen.)
MS. CHOUTEAU
See? Harmless.
(MS. CHOUTEAU takes up her briefcase and slides the file into it.)
JOHN CROW
So if I had a parole violation today, or this week…
MS. CHOUTEAU
You would go back to prison and finish your sentence.
JOHN CROW
And the whole five years I stayed out of trouble meant nothing.
MS. CHOUTEAU
I wouldn’t say nothing. The thing is, is that you did the right thing. We owed you a home visit. They sent me. You passed and at midnight tonight you become a citizen again.
JOHN CROW
A citizen that can’t vote, own a gun, get a traffic ticket without being handcuffed and bullied, or use a dating site.
(MS. CHOUTEAU nods. She takes a look around as she stands and walks to the door. JOHN CROW stays seated.)
(SOMSRI follows MS. CHOUTEAU to the door at a distance.)
(MS. CHOUTEAU opens the door and pauses in the doorway.)
MS. CHOUTEAU
Good luck.
(MS. CHOUTEAU leaves.)
(SOMSRI pushes shut the door. She crosses to JOHN CROW and places her hand on his head. He pulls her to him. After a short pause, she kneels in front of him.)
SOMSRI
Is OK?
JOHN CROW
Tonight, someone is coming over.
SOMSRI
That white lady?
JOHN CROW
Who?… No, not her. Someone I used to know. A man I was in prison with.
SOMSRI
A bad man?
JOHN CROW
No. I was the bad man.
(SOMSRI struggles to understand the words, but she understands her husband. She rubs a small circle over his chest. JOHN CROW closes his eyes.)
JOHN CROW
It makes me happy that you don’t know about my past. Maybe you don’t care about it… or me. Probably you just… It doesn’t matter. It just makes me feel easy that you are so good.
(SOMSRI sinks back on her heels.)
SOMSRI
I was afraid what the white lady maybe tell you.
JOHN CROW
Tell me what?
SOMSRI
I was no good wife for you. You are good man. Maybe with dark spots, but I have black spots. The marry agent told me, he said lie so you think I special. I not special. I no was good girl to my family. They need me to be good girl to help my family. To be wife for an uncle from my village. He had a good house, but I marry with a boy from my village.
(SOMSRI looks away, ashamed.)
SOMSRI
He was very pretty eyes and kind. My brother caught me marrying him. He told. They beat me until I was sick.
(JOHN CROW touches her face.)
SOMSRI (CONT.)
The uncle he want to keep me to use because I marry too much and not make a girlfriend first. Then my son was born. (Somsri waits for a reaction.) He born very sick and too little and too fast. His name Colin and my family never said him by his name. His eyes so beautiful and he died because we had no good house. My family ashamed and make me leave. The boy he made a girlfriend in another village. I never was a girlfriend and marry too many times. I never marry for money evVen when I too hungry. Then my friend, she give me your letter. I make a special prayer that you not be like an old village uncle. It was given to me. A gift. So maybe I not so bad. A handsome American to be a girlfriend for. A good girlfriend. I sorry that I lie. That I told you that I am special. I no want to trick you.
Somsri, somehow manages to sink even lower. John Crow lifts her chin until she looks at him. He leans toward her. As he gets close, he tilts her head and kisses her cheek softly.
JOHN CROW
I am very satisfied.
SOMSRI
You too make me very satisfy.
(SOMSRI pokes him in the belly with her finger.)
(JOHN CROW laughs and pulls SOMSRI onto his lap.)
SOMSRI
The white lady, she not tell on me?
JOHN CROW
No. Don’t worry about the white lady. She’s gone forever.
(JOHN CROW tickles SOMSRI. They laugh.)
THE CURTAIN ENDS SCENE II.
SCENE III
Curtain rises on SCENE III
As the curtain rises, the doorbell buzzes, echoing through the empty living room.
JOHN CROW stumbles into the living room, fumbling with his t-shirt. The tee is inside out. JOHN CROW pulls at it, stretching it right-side out. As JOHN CROW wrestles with his t-shirt, he sidles along the wall. Pulling out a curtain slightly, he glances out the window.
The doorbell buzzes angrily.
JOHN CROW inhales and exhales angrily. He whips his shirt on and jerks open the door.
Immediately, JAMIE LUSK, a fading neighborhood beauty queen in her early thirties, struts past JOHN CROW and into the house. She spins to face the door and JOHN CROW. She tugs at her mini-skirt, but instead of down, JAMIE may have pulled it up another inch. While she does this, JAMIE’s eyes devour everything that they see.
CHRIS TUCK lingers in the doorway.
CHRIS
John Crow.
JOHN CROW
Crisco. I mean, Chris. Habit.
(John Crow sticks his hand out to him and they shake, locking hands, then fingers.)
JOHN CROW
Say, come in.
CHRIS
‘Preciate it.
(CHRIS slides around JOHN CROW into the house.)
(JAMIE stomps her foot.)
JAMIE
Chris!
CHRIS
I ain’t forgot. John Crow, this is my blushing bride, Jamie.
(JAMIE throws her arms out with a flourish.)
JOHN CROW
Nice to meet you.
JAMIE
I know John Crow isn’t pretending that he doesn’t know me. (Pause. Then sing-song.) Jamie. . . Jamie Lusk? From Nathan Hale High School. I’d sneak out and meet up with all you older boys. You called me Daisy. Fresh as a Daisy and was until I let you old boys get ahold of me.
CHRIS
I didn’t know that.
JAMIE
If you knew everything about me, you wouldn’t love me anymore.
CHRIS
Maybe. (Laughs.) You at least remember her picture from the cell.
JOHN CROW
Yeah. I remember. Jamie called Daisy.
JAMIE
Yeah!
(JAMIE, excited and relieved, pulls JOHN CROW into a tight hug and holds a moment too long. When she pulls away, her hand lingers on his chest.)
JAMIE
How could you forget me? Right, John Crow?
JOHN CROW
Been a long time.
JAMIE
For some things, but not for others.
(Gestures to the house.)
So look at all this.
JOHN CROW
Come on, sit down.
(JOHN CROW sits in the armchair. CHRIS and JAMIE sit on the couch with JAMIE closer to JOHN CROW.)
CHRIS
Looks like you’ve done real good.
JAMIE
Chris does OK, too. We don’t live like this or anything. His OK is a little less OK.
CHRIS
Come on, Jamie. We do fine.
JOHN CROW
Yeah, what’ve you been up to, Crisco?
CHRIS
I don’t go by that anymore, John Crow. Everyone calls me Chris now.
JAMIE
That was what they called you? Crisco?
CHRIS
Better than some nicknames. I guess it was just easier to say. Maybe Chris wasn’t gangster enough. Anyway I go by Chris now.
(JOHN CROW and CHRIS lock eyes. Finally, CHRIS looks away. JAMIE watches them.)
JAMIE
That story sucked.
CHRIS
Not every prison story is good.
JOHN CROW
Fuck prison.
JAMIE
I’ll drink to that.
(JAMIE looks around.)
Chris, where’s the beer!
JOHN CROW
I don’t keep any in the house.
JAMIE
That’s alright. We brought some.
CHRIS
It’s on the porch. I left it out there.
(CHRIS jumps up, circles back around the couch away from JOHN CROW and goes to the door. He pushes open the screen and bends over to pick up the beer.)
JOHN CROW
I don’t drink anymore.
CHRIS jumps a little when JOHN CROW speaks.
(JAMIE leans over and squeezes JOHN CROW’s bicep.)
JAMIE
…or any less, right? Chris, go put that in the fridge before it gets warm.
CHRIS
It’ll be alright for a minute.
JAMIE
It’s been a minute.
(CHRIS tears open one of the boxes of beer. He rips out a beer and tosses it to JOHN CROW. JOHN CROW catches it and hands it to JAMIE.)
(CHRIS tosses him a second beer. JOHN CROW looks at it for a moment. He turns the beer in his hand as if reading it, then sets it neatly on the coaster.)
(CHRIS keeps a beer for himself and circles back around the couch and drops back into his seat.)
CHRIS
Beats the hell out of prison, huh? We’d still be in the hot, stinking chow hall, hoping for something nobody spat in. Or crowded in the dayroom waiting for the lazy ass guards to let us in the cell.
(CHRIS cracks open his beer and takes three big gulps, then throws his arm over the back of the couch.)
(JAMIE opens her beer. She whoops and slurps the beer from the rim of the can.)
JAMIE
Didn’t spill a drop. Never do.
(CHRIS smiles proudly and winks at JOHN CROW. JAMIE eases back into the couch and crosses her legs.)
CHRIS
Drink up, cellie.
JOHN CROW
I lost my taste for it, believe that?
CHRIS
‘Member that hooch we used to drink? Christ, what all was in that?
JOHN CROW
Bread, fruit, Kool-Aid, anything with sugar in it. Surprised we didn’t go blind.
CHRIS
Shoot, that stuff. It’d put hair on your head.
(JOHN CROW rubs his shaved head.)
JOHN CROW
Or burn it off.
JAMIE
Come on. It’s a special occasion. You never know what might happen.
(SOMSRI eases in. She is wearing a simple but colorful dress and a ribbon in her hair. JAMIE and CHRIS hush as they watch her.)
(SOMSRI picks up two coasters from the stack and places one in front of CHRIS, then cautiously puts the other in front of Jamie. She stoops to pick up the closed box of beer, wobbling it as she carries it to the kitchen.)
JAMIE
There’s a Mexican that lives up from us. She cleans houses, but she wants fifteen dollars. She really just vacuums and folds clothes. We don’t use her. I don’t want things to go missing. Course, Chris thinks she’s cute. I just don’t want things to go missing.
(CHRIS still watches over the back of the couch.)
CHRIS
You oughts make her wear an apron and carry a, uh, whatchamacallit.
(CHRIS shakes his imaginary feather duster.)
(JAMIE shakes out a cigarette from her pack and lights it. She leans back and blows the smoke toward the ceiling.)
CHRIS
Is she legal? Those illegals you can do anything you want to ’em and they can’t do nothing about it. The minute they open their mouth, boom, they get deported. You can make ’em do anything you want.
(SOMSRI quietly walks back into the room.)
JAMIE
Sweetie, go get me an ashtray and two more beers.
(SOMSRI looks back at John Crow. He nods.)
(JAMIE looks back and forth between them.)
JAMIE
She speaks English, right?
JOHN CROW
She understands a little.
(JAMIE wiggles her beer can at SOMSRI and holds up two fingers.)
(SOMSRI nods and returns to the kitchen.)
(JAMIE flicks her cigarette ash into her empty beer can.)
CHRIS
I bet she understands the important stuff, huh?
(SOMSRI returns with the beers and an ashtray and sets them down. She gathers the empties and takes them to the kitchen.)
JAMIE
I could get used to this. Chris does OK. He just… every time we get ahead, something happens. He gets a ticket, or has to pay a bill. We just never get to treat ourselves. A person deserves that.
CHRIS
It’s not always me. That family violence ticket and the broken window? That was you. Seven hundred dollars.
(JAMIE turns to CHRIS and touches his knee. SOMSRI sits on the arm of JOHN CROW’s chair.)
JAMIE
Sure, not every single time, but a lot. Most times really. We want to treat ourselves sometimes. We deserve something a little better. I know I do. I was Ms. Terrell, for god’s sake.
(JAMIE turns back to JOHN CROW and immediately sees SOMSRI sitting beside him. JAMIE, confused, looks back at CHRIS.)
CHRIS
You dirty dog. I thought so.
JAMIE
John Crow isn’t like you, he won’t just take anything that comes his way.
CHRIS
It’s all pink on the inside, right?
JAMIE
God, Chris.
JOHN CROW
If there’s one thing prison taught me, it’s that everybody’s pink on the inside, Crisco. Especially you white boys.
(CHRIS leans forward and points at JOHN CROW.)
CHRIS
I told you. I don’t go by that anymore. I ain’t no helpless-type dude anymore.
(The two men stare at each other. CHRIS takes a big swig of his beer.)
(SOMSRI touches JOHN CROW’s leg.)
JAMIE
Oh, don’t take it personal. He’s not trying to insult your help. Besides, anyone can see that she’s married.)
(JAMIE leans forward and takes SOMSRI’s hand from JOHN CROW’s knee. She scrunches her neck and smiles at SOMSRI. SOMSRI smiles back.)
JAMIE
Pretty ring! Chris is right though. They try to make you all in love, in love with them, but it looks like she’s already in love with our John Crow.
JOHN CROW
This isn’t a good night.
(JAMIE squeezes SOMSRI’s hand and lets it go.)
JAMIE
Sweetie, go get us a couple beers.
(JOHN CROW scoops his up and pushes it toward JAMIE. JAMIE doesn’t take it.)
JOHN CROW
Take this one.
JAMIE
I don’t want a warm one. Not when we have perfectly good cold ones. You drink it. Serve you right for letting it get warm.
JOHN CROW
Somsri, two more beers, OK.
SOMSRI
OK.
(SOMSRI crosses to the kitchen. CHRIS jumps up to follow her.)
CHRIS
I’ll help.
JAMIE
Like a puppy. Always was. Never thought it would be me and him. I always kinda thought that I would end up with someone like you.
(CHRIS charges back into the room.)
CHRIS
—Hey! She’s a, uh… mail-order bride! You wrote those girls letters from prison. You said you was gonna get one and you damn sure did! You ordered one! Damn, she’s cute and everything. I said if there’s somebody that will make it in the free, it’s John Crow Savage. He decides something and he comes at you and comes at you until he gets it.
(JAMIE looks from CHRIS to JOHN CROW to the kitchen.)
CHRIS (CONT.)
Couldn’t you order a white one? A Russian or an Eye-talian. Someone that speaks English?
(SOMSRI, confused by the excitement, creeps to JOHN CROW.)
(JAMIE really sees her now. She looks from SOMSRI and her eyes slowly drift around the house and everything in it, then back at JOHN CROW.)
(SOMSRI sets the beers in front of CHRIS and JAMIE.)
(JAMIE snatches up her pack of cigarettes and angrily snaps out a cigarette, oblivious to the fact that she has crushed the pack. She tosses the crumpled pack back on the table and grabs her lighter. She lights it and sucks down a huge drag. Before she exhales and blows a column of smoke to the ceiling, she neatly crosses her leg and jiggles her foot.)
(CHRIS snaps open the beer, all smiles.)
CHRIS
Damn! You said you’d do it. Said you’d change your whole life. I didn’t think you would. Hell, you know how everyone on the unit talks. “When I get out,” this. Empty dreams. Bullshit promises. But we did it. I said I’d marry Jamie and I did. You said you’d quit drinking, sell cars, and get you a mail-order bride, and you did.
(CHRIS flops down next to JAMIE and throws his arm around her. JAMIE continues to glare at JOHN CROW.)
JAMIE
Well, we all know how fast he gets tired of people.
CHRIS
Come on, that ain’t no way to talk… but I never did think you’d get married.
(Suddenly, clumsily, CHRIS jumps up and charges at SOMSRI, banging the table and bumping JAMIE.)
JAMIE
Chris!
(SOMSRI cowers as CHRIS lumbers toward her. CHRIS slows himself and very gently takes her hand. He leads her to JOHN CROW and situates her on his lap. Satisfied that he has posed them perfectly, CHRIS flops back on the couch and throws his arm around JAMIE. She smiles brightly but lets it fade.)
(SOMSRI smiles happily at JOHN CROW, then at CHRIS and JAMIE. For a moment, they all look the picture of happy couples.)
CHRIS
I didn’t know about this. I thought that this maybe wasn’t a good idea—meeting up again. We had some rough times there at the end. You gotta admit that, but Jamie said it might be nice to see someone from the old days. People don’t change, not really. After I thought about it I thought it might be better to just move on. Those days are gone. Forgive and forget, I say. Forget mostly. Try to forget. Forgive.
JAMIE
You’re drunk.
(CHRIS flashes a quick smile.)
CHRIS
Not yet, but I’m getting there.
JAMIE
(To JOHN CROW )
You don’t have any Vodka or something?
JOHN CROW
I don’t keep it.
JAMIE
Not even a teeny bit of vodka?
JOHN CROW
No.
JAMIE
Chris, why don’t you run and get us some vodka or something. So John Crow can celebrate with us. You let her drink, don’t you? You’re not one of these men.
JOHN CROW
No. We don’t keep any.
JAMIE
Yeah, that’s what you keep saying. Chris, go before you get too drunk to drive. Maybe you can take Somsri?
CHRIS
I’d rather take that old Grand Nat. It’s still for sale, right?
JAMIE
Just take our car.
CHRIS
We’ve been talking about buying a car.
JAMIE
Chris.
CHRIS
Me and Jamie have a love-hate relationship. I love her and she hates me.
JAMIE
We talked about this.
(JAMIE stubs out her cigarette.)
JOHN CROW
I’ll get the keys.
(JOHN CROW strides to the table and scoops a set of keys from the bowl.)
(CHRIS follows him.)
JAMIE
Ya’ll are not gonna leave me by myself.