Monday, February 14, 2011

Sighs and Dreams in Mid-February

She tossed herself into bed and pulled the covers up. She twisted and tugged and furrowed, so the coolness of the sheet combined with the eternal warmth of the comforter to evoke that beautiful discontent in the chest that is only quelled by deep, deep sleep.

She shivered and sighed and decided against crying. And almost immediately, she slept...

A car ride, unbuckled in the back seat, as a little girl - maybe nine years old.
Buying a red-white-and-blue popsicle from the ice-cream truck, but never getting to eat it - just watching it melt over her fingers.
A car alarm going off and interrupting some important, yet somber, outside event (maybe a funeral) - knowing she can stop the embarrassing squawking, but not being able to find that set of keys in what seems like a purse full of sets of keys.
A dark corridor with doorways outlined in blue light. Each doorknob turns when tried. The doors each open but the lights go off. She is to scared to enter an unfamiliar room with no lights...

...This is the dream from which she awakened - the only one she could pick from the litter of her subconscious. She threw off her blankets, as she was sweating. The alarm was blinking 12:00. A power outage, perhaps? She thought she heard her baby cry. She lay still, quieting her movements, and listened intently for a moment. That moment convinced her that her baby wasn’t crying, but she swung out of bed and traversed the hallway to check anyways.

Her baby had unbundled herself. Her arms were spread in exaggerated relaxation. She wore mittens so she wouldn’t scratch her face, and now she sprawled like a down-for-the-count prize fighter. When her mommy’s approaching footsteps had caused a slight creak, her bottom lip quivered. But she didn’t wake up - just sighed a heavy, peaceful sigh. And resumed that beautiful dream...

Looking up into daddy’s face as he holds me close to his beating heart. He sings and he resonates his love for me in his song. He kisses my cheek and his whiskers tickle my nose, and I smile, and smile, and smile.

In frozen streets, his footsteps crunched, crunched, and crunched. The cold February wind stung his hand through his mittens. He rubbed those gloved hands together like a prize fighter who had thrown more punches than he’d received, but wished he could just end the fight, curl up in a fetal position, and sleep in the middle of the ring. Throngs of fight-goers urging him to stand up before he was counted out would be soon disappointed. Their protestations would fade seamlessly into his dream...

Walking bare-foot through the hallway of his home. Carrying his smiling baby girl to her crib. Choirs of angels line the halls, singing a sweet lullaby both to him and his little girl...

...He caught his balance after hitting a patch of ice. How was it possible that he’d fallen asleep while walking? Coffee’s service was wearing off. He felt something cold and wet land on his forehead. Snow. A single snow flake crushed his hopes of early spring. He looked up at thick sky.

It sifts from leaden sieves.

It was so beautiful in December. Well, it was beautiful now, too. He just didn’t want to see it again until December. It fell thicker and faster.

It falls and falls and falls, piling on top of him until he cannot move or breathe. He tries to cry out and the white blanket muffles his cries...

...He blinked. Then he pressed his eyes tightly shut and rubbed them with his mittens, which were now flecked with snowflakes. His coat was also covered with snow. He’d been standing, gazing up, for several minutes. A skiff of fresh snow covered the cars that lined the street.

He sighed, dull and low, and his breath clouded around him. One more hour until his shift ended. Then sleep.

*******************

3 am.

The apartment was quiet and he did his utmost not to let the door latching shut disturb that quiet. He deposited his bag by the door and left his snowy boots on the mat. He peeled off layers of clothing and put on warm pajama pants and a t-shirt.

If his daughter’s bedroom door was open, he’d check in on her...it was. He rubbed his arms and blew in his hands before entering the nursery (He didn’t want to bring that cold, outside presence into her warm peaceful room).  There she slept, still and dreaming. Absolutely lovely. He resisted the urge to pick her up, hold her close as she happily awoke in his arms. Instead he graced her forehead with a single, gentle kiss. She smiled in her sleep.

He then went into his own bedroom.  He saw the alarm clock blinking 12:00. He thought about resetting the time. He thought about setting the alarm on his mobile phone, since he had to be awake for school in three and a half hours.

Instead he tossed his phone onto a pile of folded towels on the dresser, and climbed into bed.  He stared down into his pillow for a minute before sleep besieged him. And with it dreams...

Green grass.
Blooming trees.
High, white clouds and streaming beams of sunlight.
Springtime.
Baby in my arms. Baby at my side.
Smiling, smiling, smiling.
Music playing close by.
Hands held.
Kiss on the cheek.
Springtime.
Heartfelt sighs.

Sunday, October 10, 2010

A One-Act Play that Features Chicken Salad, an Assassination, and a Gorilla with a Flair for Fashion

I figured I'd go ahead and publish this one-act play that I wrote several months ago (presumably during a period heavily characterized by fever dreams). I publish now because I assume few people are faithfully reading my blog now. If perchance you stumble upon this - my sincere apologies....and I hope you enjoyed it.


Cast
Richard: a middle-aged tax accountant
Sandra: Richard’s wife of 20 years
Lewis: Richard’s best friend/golf buddy
Ellen: Lewis’s trophy wife
Alanna: the 22-year old daughter of Richard and Sandra
Toby: Alanna’s boyfriend

Scene 1 (The green on 18)
Richard and Lewis stand nearby as Toby lines up a putt.

TOBY: I think that’s a gimme, right?

LEWIS: You’re ten feet away! Take the putt!

TOBY: Okay, okay. I’ll take the putt. But it’s a gimme. (Sinks the putt) See? Gimme.

LEWIS: (aside to RICHARD) Who is this kid again?

RICHARD: (aside to LEWIS) Toby. Allana’s boyfriend. He went to Brown. For half a semester.

LEWIS: Nice putt, Toby. (prepares to putt) Dick here says you went to Brown. My daughter -  my first wife’s kid -  went to Brown. What did you study?

TOBY: Law.

LEWIS: Wow! Why didn’t you stick with it?

TOBY: It wasn’t my passion.

LEWIS: And what’s your “passion.”

TOBY: Guns. Shooting. Shooting things. You know...stuff like that.

LEWIS: “Stuff like that”? What do you mean by “stuff like that”? Are you a serial killer? Are you a hunter?

TOBY: I’m a rifle enthusiast.

RICHARD: (aside to LEWIS) Brown doesn’t have a rifle enthusiast program.

LEWIS: So, Toby, what is it that you do?

TOBY: Like I said, I shoot guns.

LEWIS: For a living? Is there good money in that?

TOBY: I make a killing. (Toby pulls a rifle out of his golf bag and kills LEWIS.)

RICHARD: (faints)

TOBY uses the golf cart to haul LEWIS’s corpse to the water hazard. He wipes the cart down with towels and submerges them in the water. He then drives the cart back to the 18th hole and loads RICHARD’s fainted body onto the cart.

Scene 2 (Chatting in the car)
Toby drives Richard’s SUV. Richard awakens in the passenger seat.

RICHARD: Wh-what....? What’s happening? Lewis?

TOBY: No, Dick. It’s me Toby. I shot Lewis while he was lining up a putt on 18.

RICHARD: (starts to hyperventilate and tries to open the passenger door)

TOBY: Don’t do that, Dick. We’re on the interstate!

RICHARD: Where are you taking me? What’s happening? Why?

TOBY: We have reservations. Remember? You called ahead this morning. 4:30? Meeting with Sandra and Alanna? Ringing any bells yet, Dick?

RICHARD: Why did you shoot him?

TOBY: I was paid to shoot him. It’s what I do, remember?

RICHARD: Why did you shoot him?

TOBY: I’m a hired killer. Hired to kill Lewis.

RICHARD: You’re a psychopath.

TOBY: I’m a hired killer - not a psychopath. A psychopath needs to kill or enjoys killing for the sake of killing.

RICHARD: What are you going to do to us? What about us?

TOBY: Us? Who? You mean you and your family?

RICHARD: Yes, us, you psychopath! What about us? What are you going to do?

TOBY: Dick, listen to yourself. Be reasonable, okay? Why would I hurt you and your family? That is not at all my intention. I’m in love with your daughter!

RICHARD: What? What? What?

TOBY: Love. Your daughter and I are in love. We were going to announce today that we’re engaged to be married. So act surprised when we bring it up at dinner, okay. Don’t you dare tell Alanna that I told you. I think she’d be upset.

RICHARD: ...

TOBY: Can I count on you, Dick?

RICHARD: You can’t marry my daughter! You just killed my best friend!

TOBY: Look, Dick. I’m sorry about Lewis. I’m sorry he was your best friend, I mean. I know he must have been a bad guy. Or he must have done something bad to have made someone want him dead. Think of it that way.

RICHARD: (still hysterical) Lewis is dead! Ellen is meeting us for dinner. She’ll be there. Lewis is dead! He’s dead! You shot him with a rifle! What do you mean you’re a rifle enthusiast? You work at the Verizon store!  What am I going to say to Ellen?

TOBY:  She can do better, believe me.

RICHARD: Stop the car right now! You’re not going anywhere near my family!

TOBY: Dick, please. I’m practically family. I’m engaged to your daughter. We’ve been engaged for three days now. We’re committed to each other. Till death do us part.

RICHARD: Where’s my phone? Stop the car! Stop the car, Toby!

TOBY: (pulls the car onto the brim and stops)

RICHARD: (opens the car door and starts to get out)  Help! Somebody help me!

TOBY: (grabs RICHARD’s belt and pulls him back into the SUV) Dick! Get back in the car! Get back in the car!

RICHARD: Let me go!

TOBY: Get in the car!

RICHARD: (hits head on the door frame as he is yanked by the belt back into the passenger seat) Ow! Psychopath! You hit my head!

TOBY: Yikes! I really did, didn’t I? Are you okay, Dad?

RICHARD: I think I’m bleeding.

TOBY: Only a little. Here you go. (Grabs a golf towel from the back seat)

RICHARD: Thanks.

TOBY: You’re welcome. Close the door. I have something to say to you.

RICHARD: Wait.....Did you call me...”Dad”?

TOBY: Oh....is that okay? I’m sorry. It’s actually more natural for me to call you Dick. But Alanna and I talked about this forever last night. She really, really wants me to call you “Dad.” Is that okay?

RICHARD: No!

TOBY: I just wanted to make her happy, Dick. Do you not want your own daughter to be happy?

RICHARD: Of course I want her to be happy! That’s why she’s not going to marry a psychopath!

TOBY: On that we agree. She won’t marry a psychopath. She’ll marry me. And I’ll take good care of her. This killing job has been a tremendous blessing. I’ll be honest: it was stressful - even scary - at first. But now that I’ve hit double figures, I’m really feeling comfortable. And the pay is phenomenal. Guess what I make per hit. Just guess.

RICHARD: You’re insane!

TOBY: Just guess. Guess high if you want.

RICHARD: I’m not going to guess how much you make per hit.

TOBY: Please guess.

RICHARD: No.

TOBY: Guess what I make per hit, Dad.

RICHARD: Don’t call me that.

TOBY: I won’t if you guess what I make.

RICHARD: A million.

TOBY: Do you mean per hit?

RICHARD: I don’t know. A thousand.

TOBY: Way more than that.

RICHARD: Three million per hit.

TOBY: No, not more than a million. More than a thousand. Way more.

RICHARD: Five thousand.

TOBY: Close. Twenty-five hundred per hit.

RICHARD: Seriously? Per hit? That’s not way more than a thousand.

TOBY: Um. Yes it is. It’s over twice as much.

RICHARD: It’s more, yes. It’s not way, way more though.

TOBY: I didn’t say “way, way more.”  Besides, it accumulates if you do more than one a week. And I’ve been pretty busy.  Lewis today and on Wednesday I hit this lawyer at his office.

RICHARD: You killed a lawyer?

TOBY: No one you know. Last name sounded kind of Polish, or Russian.

RICHARD: Papac? Thomas Papac?

TOBY: That sounds kinda familiar...

RICHARD: You killed Papac?

TOBY: Anyways, I’m not going to kill you.

RICHARD: What? Kill me? Why would you kill me?

TOBY: I said I’m not going to kill you. I promise.........unless....

RICHARD: ...

TOBY: ....

RICHARD: ...”Unless” what???

TOBY: I think you know.

RICHARD: I promise I don’t. Tell me what “unless” means!

TOBY: This has potential to be a difficult situation, Dick. And you have the potential to keep it easy. Do you understand, Dick?

RICHARD: Don’t call me “Dick.”

TOBY: What can I call you?

RICHARD: Call me Richard. No one calls me Dick. No one calls anyone Dick anymore.

TOBY: Okay, Richard. Do you understand... you know, I don’t like saying “Richard.” It sounds too much like Robin Hood - like, good King Richard. How ‘bout “Richie”?

RICHARD: Call me Richard, please. You’ll get use to it. Everyone does.

TOBY: Rich?

RICHARD: Richard, please.

TOBY: Rick?

RICHARD: I don’t like Rick.

TOBY: Making me call you Richard is like me making you call me Tobias. It’s a little pretentious.

RICHARD: Your full name is Tobias?

TOBY: Well, no, it’s not. But you understand what I mean.

RICHARD: No! Nothing you say makes sense! You’re a psychopath!

TOBY: Listen! If I was a psychopath, I’d take you into the woods and kill you. You’ve seen me kill a man. You know I’m responsible for two deaths. Would a psychopath be so reasonable? Would a psychopath make a reasonable proposal like a gentleman?

RICHARD: What proposal?

TOBY: We need to come to terms here. I’m going to marry your daughter. But I need your cooperation. You can never speak of this to Alanna or to anyone else. You can never talk to the police about what I do. You can never suggest that I do anything other than sell phones and phone accessories from a mall kiosk. That would be very dangerous if you did.

RICHARD: Dangerous?

TOBY: I could go to jail. What I do is illegal. I get hired to kill people. No questions asked. That’s why I get the big bucks. No questions asked. Not a trace.

RICHARD: Not really big bucks.

TOBY: Well, what do you make?  

RICHARD: Well...

TOBY: ...Never mind that. Do we have an agreement? Can I count on you?

RICHARD: I can promise nothing. I have to think of the ultimate safety of my family. You’re a danger to society.

TOBY: Believe me, I could be.

RICHARD: What do you mean?

TOBY: If you don’t play by my rules, it will be a terrible mistake. You think you’re keeping them safe from me by turning me in? You’re doing the opposite. I’ll kill them. I’ll kill Alanna. I’ll kill Sandra. I’ll kill you. And then I’ll disappear.

RICHARD: We’re all going to die!

TOBY: It’s not what I want. But I’ll do what I have to do.  It’s not what I want; it’s not what you want. Let’s not have it that way, Dick. Let’s do it the easy way.

RICHARD: The easy way?

TOBY: My way. Silence is golden. We’re on the same team. I can even throw a little business your way, if you catch my drift.

RICHARD: Why would I need anyone killed?

TOBY: Not killed! I meant as a tax accountant. That is what you do, right? I’ll have a lot of money on hand, and I’ll need your services, Dick. Sheesh!

RICHARD: This is a lot to take in in one afternoon. What time is it? Are we late for dinner?

TOBY: Just running a bit behind. Let’s hit the road. I’ll give you until we get to restaurant to make up your mind. Spend some time thinking quietly.


Scene 3 (An early dinner)
Alanna, Ellen, and Sandra sit spaced evenly at a corner booth of a downtown bistro. Ellen and Sandra pick at salads. Alanna ignores her salad and manipulates her smart-phone.

ELLEN: I don’t get golf. I really don’t get it at all. I mean, I think I get most sports. I get most things that men like; but not golf. No one really enjoys it: it’s just an exasperation that becomes an obsession that they call a pastime.

ALANNA: Toby’s good at golf, I think. He just text me and said something about shooting something under 70. I don’t really know what that means. Is that good?

SANDRA: That’s pretty good. Did he say if they’re on their way?

ALANNA: No, he didn’t.

SANDRA: Well, text him back and ask him!

ALANNA: He’s driving. You’re not supposed to text and drive at the same time.

SANDRA: You just said he text you about golf.

ALANNA: That must have been from earlier. He’s very good not texting and driving. He always tells me not to. He cares for my safety.

ELLEN: Sounds like a sweetheart. Do you like him, Alanna?

ALANNA: He is a sweetheart.

SANDRA: Wait, honey. Did you say Toby was driving?

ALANNA: Yeah.

SANDRA: Your dad let Toby drive his car?

ALANNA: I guess so. Toby is very trustworthy. Maybe after the golf outing, dad and he bonded. I’m so glad dad and Lewis let Toby go with them.  

ELLEN: I guess golf is good for Lewis. It keeps him healthy.

WAITER: Are you ladies ready to order, or are you still waiting?

ELLEN: Still waiting. But I think I can go ahead and order, and maybe order for Lewis. I pretty much know what he’d get anyways. One of the joys of being with someone so long.

SANDRA: (rolling her eyes at Alanna) Three years and you know what he wants! I’ve been married for twenty years, and I have no idea what Richard would want! Oh, well. I’ll try anyways. I’m that hungry.I’ll risk the tantrum.

ALANNA: What kind of food do they serve here?

SANDRA: Seriously? You’ve been here for 20 minutes and you don’t know what you want? You don’t know what they serve?

ALANNA: Mom, can you order for me?

SANDRA: Order for you? And for Toby? Me?

ALANNA: Oh, look! There’s daddy!

Richard enters alone, without his shirt on, sweating terribly.

ELLEN: Hi, Richard. How was golf? (not looking up from her menu)

SANDRA: Richard! This place has a dress code! You’re required to wear a shirt with a collar!

ALANNA: Why are you so sweaty?

ELLEN: (finally looking up) Oh dear!

RICHARD: May I sit?

ELLEN: (moves quickly toward the other side of the table) Pardon me. Where is Lewis?

RICHARD: He won’t be joining us. Toby killed him.

ELLEN: Tsk! He’s such a sore loser! He’s pouting because of losing at golf!

ALANNA: Where’s Toby?

RICHARD: He won’t be joining us either. I killed him.

SANDRA: So you played well today?

RICHARD: Reasonably well.

ALANNA: It’s not really like Toby to pout. But he’s not even answering my texts.

SANDRA: What did you shoot?

RICHARD: (scanning the menu) Whatever Toby shot.

ALANNA: But you said you beat Toby.

RICHARD: I said “killed.” I killed Toby. Where is that waiter? I need something to drink.

ELLEN: I don’t understand golf scoring. Lewis said he’d explain it to me someday.

RICHARD: Don’t hold your breath.

ELLEN: (chuckles) I think he’ll grow impatient of my ignorance.

RICHARD: Don’t hold your breath for that either.

Waiter arrives with ice water which Richard consumes abruptly.

WAITER: Are we ready to order?

RICHARD: Keep the water coming. And I’d like something buttery to eat. Can you do the chicken salad on a croissant?

WAITER: Sure. Anything besides water to drink?

RICHARD: Yes, I’ll also have some -

WAITER: - Sir, you’re required to wear a shirt with a collar. Would you be so kind as to put your shirt back on.

RICHARD: Well, I can’t really do that, can I? I don’t have my shirt with me.

ALANNA: Wear is your shirt, daddy?

RICHARD: I lost it while I was killing Toby.

ELLEN: Oh! There was betting involved! No wonder Lewis is in one of his moods.

SANDRA: You lost your shirt playing golf?

ALANNA: Now I’m getting a little hazy on golf rules...

ELLEN: Have you ever heard of someone play “strip golf”? It’s like strip poker. But with golf.

WAITER: I’ve heard of that.

RICHARD: We weren’t playing strip golf. Why would I play strip golf with Lewis and my daughter’s fiance?

SANDRA: Fiance?? Oh, Alanna! Sweetheart?? (She grabs her daughter by both shoulders and shakes her lovingly.) Why didn’t you say something?

ALANNA: Daddy! It was supposed to be a surprise!

RICHARD: Blast it, Alanna! I’m sorry about that. I’m not usually that bad at secrets. Guess it’s been a trying day.

WAITER: Congratulations, miss.

ALANNA: Thank you!

ELLEN:  Yes! Congratulations! You’ll be so happy!

ALANNA: I just wish Toby could have been here. We planned this whole outing around surprising you all with the big news.

RICHARD: Oh, did you? (rolling eyes)

ALANNA: It’s unfathomable to think Toby would skip such an important dinner because of a golf funk.

RICHARD: Golf funk?

SANDRA: Oh, Alanna! I’m just beside myself! Have you set a date? I need details!

ELLEN: I love weddings!

RICHARD: You are all taking this incredibly well.

WAITER: (aside to Richard) Can I just bring the chicken salad for everyone, sir?

RICHARD: Sure. I don’t think you’re going to get a proper order placed at this pace.

ALANNA: We’re thinking about an autumn wedding.

RICHARD: That won’t work at all!

SANDRA: Well, guess who has an opinion!

ALANNA: Why won’t that work, daddy? We’ve figured it all out, down to the last detail.

RICHARD: You seem to be overlooking one very important detail: I’ve killed Toby.

ALANNA: You what?

SANDRA: What did you fellows do this morning?

RICHARD: I shot Toby at the zoo.

ELLEN: You went to the zoo without us? Not fair! I love the zoo!

RICHARD: Lewis didn’t get to go to the zoo.

ELLEN: You and your weird golf bets...

RICHARD: Lewis was dead by this point. Toby had killed him and dumped him, presumably in some water hazard.  Then, I don’t remember what happened. Toby said I blacked out.

ALANNA: You’re not making sense, daddy. Do you think he has sun-stroke, mommy?

SANDRA: That, or he’s not taking the news of your engagement very well.

RICHARD: I’m not taking it well. I’m taking it very poorly, as you can see. (He gestured at his shirtless, sweaty torso).

ALANNA: Why do you keep talking about people being dead? It’s so morbid. This is supposed to be a memorable, happy moment. And you’re ruining it in all sorts of ways.

WAITER: Chicken salad on croissants. (Distributes food).

ELLEN: I didn’t order chicken salad. Did you, Sandra?

ALANNA: And you ordered us all croissants, daddy! I’m trying to lose weight for my big day, daddy, not gain it! I’d like to actually fit down the aisle.

RICHARD: (taking a giant bite of food) Why is everyone upset at me? I’m the one who actually made it here! You should lift me on your shoulders and carry me into the sunset hailing me as champion and hero of all that is good!

SANDRA: Seriously, Richard! It’s just a golf game!

RICHARD: But I killed him after he killed Lewis. I killed Toby and saved us all from imminent death!

ALANNA: Daddy, stop it!

RICHARD: Show some gratitude! I saved you from a life of certain pain. You didn’t even know that Toby was a hired killer. The man was lying to you and he was engaged to you.

WAITER: How is everything?

ELLEN: Just fine, thanks.

WAITER: I’ve brought you a shirt, sir. There have been a few complaints...

RICHARD: (putting on the shirt, which is much too small for him) Thank you. Let me tell you all exactly what happened and then you can thank me.

WAITER: The cost of the shirt will be added to your bill, sir. I hope that’s a reasonable solution. I had to run across the street to the Izod store to buy it.

RICHARD: How much was it?

WAITER: $19.99

RICHARD: Did you keep the receipt? It’s way too small. I’m not paying $20 for a shirt that won’t fit over a Ken-doll. (continues to struggle to get the shirt on)

WAITER: (aside) Hmm. Gratitude for you.

RICHARD: I heard that! I, unlike certain others present, am not oblivious to such acts of kindness. Thank you, waiter, for the shirt. It was very sacrificing of you to buy me a new shirt from Izod.  Your tip will most likely reflect my gratitude adequately. But do keep the water coming though - Is this thing on backwards?

WAITER: Yes, it is. The collar usually buttons in the front, sir.

Scene 4 (Richard Puts on a Shirt Slowly While Recapping His Day)
RICHARD: (adjusting the shirt with much struggle) I woke up when Toby was driving me down the interstate. I, having just witnessed him kill Lewis, tried to get out of the car, but he insisted on talking calmly. He gave me the facts about his true profession and his intentions. He basically threatened to kill me and my entire family if I said anything to anyone. After several minutes of this logic, he told me to “think it over quietly” (makes air quotes; head still enveloped in poly-cotton blend of an armhole) while we finished our trip to meet up with you. - This shirt is impossibly small! - So, anyways, I pretended to be musing on his proposition, but I was devising a clever plan.

I saw my chance. He leaned forward and glanced over his shoulder as he intended to change lanes. I - like a falcon swooping - reached across and wrenched the wheel further to the left. The car darted across three lanes into the median. Then - this part is particularly hair-raising - we continued across the oncoming interstate traffic! He was hitting me all the time and also trying to wrest the steering wheel from my grasp. But I didn’t relent! We smashed through a chain-link fence and found ourselves careening through some underbrush. I realized where we were when I saw a flurry of exotic birds rush past the window. We were in the zoo!

We continued smashing through shrubbery and fences - I fear we may have killed an okapi or two...hope they’re not endangered - and Toby finally managed to grab hold of the parking brake. We continued to wrestle and I managed to get hold of Toby’s rifle - but I had it by the barrel, so I couldn’t shoot him. He kept snatching at the trigger and twice actually managed to shoot. One shot took out the window. The other grazed my leg. See? (He pulls his pants down to show the flesh wound - patrons complain noisily)

So, the fighting continued, and I finally won full control of the rifle. I whacked him with the butt repeatedly and that dazed him. But as I swiveled to finish him off by shooting him, something reached in the car window and grabbed me by both arms - not as you grabbed Alanna when you found out she was engaged, Sandra - not with love and unbounded joy - but with intent to dislocate and maim. I didn’t know at the moment, but it was some sort of ape that had me.

He (or she) had me so full-Nelsoned that I couldn’t draw a bead on Toby. He came-to and saw my predicament. He took the opportunity to grab the barrel of the rifle and then punch me repeatedly in the stomach. But, the ape came unwittingly to my rescue. He began to wrench my shirt over my arms - not sure what his end game was - and Toby, mid-punch, had his fist tangled in the shirt. As the shirt came totally off, Toby was left hand-cuffed in my shirt, and I was unencumbered for the first moment since the gorilla attack.

I commenced to tear into him (Toby, not the ape, seeing as how he had now become my ally) with the fervor of a father-tiger protecting his cubs. Forgive the nature metaphors - comes naturally after having a show-down in the zoo.

And after beating him senseless, I took the rifle up and shot him. In the head. He’s dead. Probably still lying in that gorilla cage.

(To the waiter, who is still nearby and listening intently) I tried to get my shirt back from the ape, but by that time, he was wearing it. Not sure how he fit it on over his enormous head, but he’d succeeded. More than I can say. Can you help me get my head through this hole?

WAITER: Sure, sir. These buttons come undone. That makes it worlds easier.

RICHARD: Thanks.

ELLEN: (finishing up her croissant) I must have missed a bit. Where’s Lewis, again?

SANDRA: He’s dead, Ellen. But don’t worry. Richard has gallantly avenged him. Isn’t that right, Dickie?

RICHARD: Don’t call me that, Sandra.

ALANNA: (cries uncontrollably. Exits)

SANDRA: Oh. Poor dear. She’s not taking this well at all.

ELLEN: (thinking) I don’t really know how to react. What to say. What to do.

WAITER: How about some dessert?

THE END