Belleville Page 2

  (Brief pause.)

  ALIOUNE: No.

  ABBY: I am increasingly convinced that is the worst thing you can say to a child. May I never say that to my children.

  Zack!

  ZACK (Offstage): What?

  ABBY: How old do you think Alioune is?

  (Brief pause.)

  ZACK (Offstage): Twenty-four?

  (Alioune laughs.)

  ABBY: He told you!

  ALIOUNE: I don’t think so.

  ABBY: He has two kids!

  ZACK (Offstage): Yeah, scientifically, I’m not having a problem with that timeline.

  ABBY (Quietly): Where oh where have my twenties gone?

  (The bedroom door opens and Zack enters, dressed, wet hair, with his laptop.)

  ZACK: Sorry to keep you waiting, man.

  ALIOUNE: Now I understand, why are the hot water bills so high since you move in.

  ABBY: Oh! Oh no, that’s / me.

  ZACK: That’s Abby.

  ABBY: I’m the worst, I take so many baths. It’s a compulsion. I wake up in the morning and I’m like I will not take a bath today, and / then—

  ZACK: She gets cold.

  ABBY: I am perpetually chilled, and it’s the / only thing—

  ZACK: Blue fingernails, it’s spooky. Once / she—

  ABBY: Please don’t tell this story.

  ZACK: Why? Alioune / won’t—

  ABBY: Fine, but do the short version.

  ZACK: We had a seminar together, in college, and it met in the basement of this / old—

  ABBY: It was freezing!

  ZACK: It was, it was unacceptable.

  ABBY: Zack is never cold, and his teeth would chatter by the end.

  ZACK: Oh because it was a three-hour seminar. The professor was this old phlegmatic—

  ABBY: Short version.

  ZACK: So this one class meeting it was below freezing outside and Abby had herself contorted into / this—

  ABBY: I have to sort of wrap my limbs around each other sometimes to keep warm.

  (She demonstrates.)

  ALIOUNE: . . . Oh.

  ZACK: And when class ended and we walked out she said her leg felt weird so she pulled up her jeans, and her left calf—

  ABBY: It was my right calf.

  ZACK: Her left calf, you’re wrong, was swollen to like twice its normal size. Because the way she was sitting, she had blocked off a vein or, artery or / whatever and—

  ABBY: Can you tell this man attended medical school?

  ZACK: And, shhh, and all this blood had pooled there. It was really grotesque.

  ABBY: Thanks.

  ALIOUNE: That’s . . .

  ABBY: Yeah, it’s disgusting. I went to the health center and the doctor had never seen anything like it so she sent me to the ER. But by the time they could see me it had returned to normal so I just felt like an asshole. I was like, “yeah, I don’t really know what I’m doing here, my leg was swollen . . . before,” and they were like, “. . . awesome, so glad we had this talk.”

  See, it’s not a good story.

  ZACK: It is, however, the story of how we got together.

  ABBY: Zack stayed with me the whole time.

  ZACK: Even though you were desperately in love with somebody else, and / would be for quite some time.

  ABBY: Blah blah blah, can we not . . .?

  ALIOUNE: You should take as many baths as you need.

  (Pause.)

  ABBY: All right, I’ll leave you two to your devious purpose.

  (She begins to exit.)

  ZACK: Hey, I was thinking in the shower, maybe we should go on a D-A-T-E tonight.

  ABBY: Ooohhh! A D-A-T-E.

  ALIOUNE: Why do you spell it?

  ABBY: He thinks I’m like a dog, if I get too excited I’ll pee myself.

  ZACK: It’s been a while since we went on a D-A-T-E.

  ABBY: You feeling bad about something?

  ZACK: You trying to start something in front of Alioune?

  ABBY: I guess you’re just assuming I’m available.

  ZACK: I should have asked. Are you available?

  ABBY: I think I can switch a few things around.

  ZACK: I’d like that.

  (Her phone rings.)

  ABBY: That’ll be my father. He’s already been awake for a few hours without being reassured of his centrality in my existence. (She picks up) Hi Daddy. It was canceled. (On her way out) Because nobody showed up. What do you call a yoga teacher with no students? This has been your daily Zen koan, by Abby. (To Zack) Window.

  (She exits. Zack performs falling over in exhaustion.)

  ALIOUNE: No no, she—it was fine.

  ZACK: Sorry. Whatever you just had to deal with, sorry.

  (Over the following, Zack packs a bowl. He also opens his laptop to select music, briefly typing something.)

  ALIOUNE: It was my fault. I offended her, because I thought she was thirty-two.

  ZACK: Oh no!

  ALIOUNE: Actually I thought she was older, I thought thirty-two was a / safe—

  ZACK: Sorry I left you stranded out here, man. She walked in on me earlier. Um. On the computer.

  ALIOUNE (Brief pause): Oh—oh, shit!

  ZACK: Yup. Yes.

  ALIOUNE: Was it—very nasty?

  ZACK: The screen was turned away from her.

  ALIOUNE: Good.

  ZACK: But. Yes.

  (They both laugh.)

  She’s trying to go off her medication. Not trying, she’s going off. It’s torture. It’s torture. But I’m not allowed to say anything because that would be unsupportive. And this is a period of transition. Meanwhile I’m thinking of resorting to mashing them up in her food, it’s just . . . so not a good idea.

  ALIOUNE: She was on . . .?

  ZACK: Oh, like an antidepressant, antianxiety. She started taking it when her mom was dying, and never imagined that five years later, yadda yadda, but as far as I was concerned that shit was worth its weight in gold, it was . . . (Proffering) Green for you, friend.

  (They smoke over the following.)

  I’m just, I’m losing my mind, because for the last five years all she’s talked about is Paris, her parents had some amazing trip to Paris in like 1970-something, she thinks Paris will be the cure for all her, whatever, so I give up a really good residency to take this job, no complaints, it’s a great job, but now we’re here, and she quits her French classes, and she’s uncomfortable in the neighborhood—

  ALIOUNE: She’s uncomfortable in Belleville?

  ZACK: She would never admit it, but . . . anyway. You see what I’m dealing with.

  ALIOUNE: Sorry.

  ZACK: Yeah, it’s a nightmare. It’s very dark in there.

  (Zack does something briefly on the computer.)

  How’s Amina?

  ALIOUNE: Fine. The kids, they’re fine. Uh . . .

  (Abby enters from the bedroom, still on the phone, holding Zack’s ringing phone out toward him.)

  ABBY (Quietly): Work.

  (Zack takes the phone and Abby returns to the bedroom, talking again to her dad.)

  Not yet, but / we finally got to Père Lachaise. It was rainy though so we didn’t . . .

  ZACK: Sorry dude—one second.

  Allo? Bonjour Brigitte, ça va?

  Ouais, je me souviens. A dix heures, n’est-ce pas? Ouais.

  Non, pas du tout, merci. A demain.

  (He hangs up.)

  My assistant. What were we . . .? Your kids! I saw your older one, in the / hall.

  ALIOUNE: Ousmane.

  ZACK: Yeah he’s such a little person, he’s such a little guy.

  ALIOUNE: He is climbing stairs now, no hands, this is the new, uh . . .

  ZACK: Incredible.

  ALIOUNE: Yes. I want to have another, I want a girl, but Amina . . .

  ZACK: She’s done.

  ALIOUNE: She’s done. For now. We’ll see.

  (The jovial mood somehow drains away. Neither of them wants to have this conversati
on.)

  So . . .

  ZACK: I know. I know what you’re gonna say.

  ALIOUNE: Yeah. I really did not expect, after our last / talk.

  ZACK: So what happened, I had it all in the account, this is as of forty-eight hours ago, what I didn’t realize was that she had done all this Christmas shopping on the credit card, and unbeknownst to me made this like monumental transfer—

  ALIOUNE: I’m sure there’s a very good / reason—

  ZACK: Which I did not discover / until this morning—

  ALIOUNE: But it doesn’t matter. I mean. Sorry, but I don’t care. I don’t care why anymore.

  (Pause.)

  ZACK: Oh-kay.

  ALIOUNE: Listen, my uncle, he looked at the accounts. I . . . hadn’t told him, because I knew he wouldn’t allow it, and I thought you would—before he found out. But he saw, and now he is saying he can’t trust me. You know, my uncle, he raised me, since I was six. A month ago he was asking me would I like to be his partner, now he is saying he can’t trust me.

  ZACK: Oh man, I’m so sorry—

  ALIOUNE: No, it’s—I’m not telling you to feel sorry for me, because it’s my mistake. I don’t know why I even tell you this, about my uncle.

  ZACK: Because we’re friends, and I feel like shit about putting you in that position, I really do.

  ALIOUNE: Well that doesn’t matter.

  ZACK: It matters to me.

  ALIOUNE: Zack, I need the money. All four months you owe me. Soon. Tomorrow, or—

  ZACK: Tomorrow?

  ALIOUNE: Okay, Friday. Or you have to go. I’m sorry, but . . .

  (Pause. Zack goes to pack another bowl.)

  Not for me, thanks.

  ZACK: For me, buddy, for me.

  ALIOUNE: You know how much respect I have for your work.

  ZACK: Uh-huh.

  ALIOUNE: I mean that. I told my uncle, I even asked if we could make a deal with you, because—in a way, that’s like giving to a charity—

  ZACK: Thanks.

  ALIOUNE: I tried to help, all right?

  ZACK: It shouldn’t be a problem, I can get it by Friday.

  ALIOUNE: Yes?

  ZACK: Yeah dude.

  ALIOUNE: Well . . . good.

  (Zack tokes. He offers to Alioune, who hesitates, then accepts one more hit.)

  I feel much better, that we spoke.

  But I should just say, that I’m serious, when I say . . . when I say that if you don’t get the money—

  ZACK: That you’ll start throwing our furniture out the window, I got it.

  ALIOUNE: Come on, no, / but—

  ZACK: Hey, own it, you’re a ruthless businessman, you gotta be makin’ that paper, that’s what you’re about.

  ALIOUNE: You have no reason to be angry at me.

  ZACK: I’m kidding, dude, lighten up.

  ALIOUNE: I don’t think so. But okay.

  (Abby enters, holding up two shirts.)

  ABBY: Hey Alioune—Jesus!

  (She opens the window.)

  What were you guys, cutting a reggae album in here?

  ZACK: I didn’t want to open it because you get cold.

  ABBY: Did you smoke more than one bowl?

  ZACK: No!

  ABBY: Because the last thing I need is you turning into a pot-head. Alioune, this one—

  (She holds up a shirt.)

  Or—

  (She holds up the other. Alioune looks.)

  ALIOUNE: Show me the first again—yes, that one. The other, I like it, but . . .

  ABBY: It washes me out, right? It’s so sad, I bought it in the summer when I was all brown and healthy and now it makes me look like a vampire.

  ALIOUNE: A little.

  ABBY: Thank you, that was immensely helpful. When I ask Zack questions like that he just tries to figure out which one I like better and says that one.

  ZACK: I have found it to be a fail-safe system.

  ABBY: Hey, you’re shivering. I’m not shivering, but you’re shivering.

  (She closes the window.)

  ALIOUNE: I should get back to the office.

  ABBY: Oh—okay. Can I give you some cookies to take with you?

  ALIOUNE: No, I— (Off a look from Zack) Yes! Yes, that would be wonderful.

  ABBY: I’m just gonna get you a—

  (She exits into the kitchen.)

  ALIOUNE: Alors, vendredi?

  ZACK: Oui, j’ai bien compris.

  ALIOUNE: No matter what, I hope that we can still be friends—

  (Abby reenters with a nice piece of Tupperware.)

  ABBY: What happened, did you guys just break up?

  ZACK: You’re giving him our good Tupperware?

  ABBY: It’s the only clean one. He’ll give it back.

  ALIOUNE: I will, I will give it back.

  ZACK (Under his breath): I love that Tupperware.

  ABBY: Here you go, please say hi to Amina. Oh God.

  ALIOUNE: What?

  ABBY: Do you ever just step outside yourself and see yourself? I just saw myself handing over a Tupperware full of cookies I baked saying, “please say hi to Amina.”

  ZACK: That is what just happened.

  ABBY: It’s okay. I can have all the trappings of a person I hate and still be a person I like, right?

  ALIOUNE: Thank you for the cookies. (To Zack) And the . . .

  (Zack salutes him, somewhat ironically. Alioune exits. Zack is still shivering.)

  ABBY: What’s wrong with you?

  ZACK: I think I might have smoked a tad too much weed.

  (She goes to him and holds him. He burrows into her with surprising urgency.)

  ABBY: Whoa. Hey, there. Hey.

  ZACK: I’m sorry.

  ABBY: That’s okay, baby, I just took a valium.

  ZACK: No, I mean, about . . . before.

  ABBY: Oh.

  No, that, that makes total sense, I just, I feel bad, that I haven’t / been satisfying you.

  ZACK: No no no—

  ABBY: Well, the proof is in the pudding, so.

  ZACK: I don’t want you to think that, it has nothing to / do with—

  ABBY: We’ll work on it, right? We’ll work on it.

  (Brief pause. They kiss, chastely, tenderly.)

  What did Brigitte want?

  ZACK: To remind me there’s a staff meeting tomorrow morning.

  ABBY: Did you need to be reminded?

  ZACK: No.

  ABBY: But I bet it was still nice to hear from her.

  ZACK: Hey.

  ABBY: She’s really tall, isn’t she? She’s one of those really tall women who wears high heels anyway?

  ZACK: She is not tall, and not a threat.

  ABBY: Promise?

  (Another sweet kiss.)

  ZACK: Listen, do you want to get out of here?

  ABBY: It’s too early for dinner.

  ZACK: No, I mean—get out of Paris.

  ABBY: I thought if we leave we can’t get back in.

  ZACK: That’s true.

  ABBY: So . . . what are you asking me?

  ZACK: What you want. What you want.

  ABBY: You have a job here, Zack.

  ZACK: I know.

  ABBY: Like a really fucking important job that you care about a lot. That I care about a lot. That’s why we uprooted ourselves and came here.

  ZACK: Uh-huh.

  ABBY: So . . .

  ZACK: So, maybe that’s not as important to me as you being happy.

  ABBY: Aarrrrghghhhh!

  ZACK: What?

  ABBY: I am so tired of this fucking pressure to be happy. I am not happy, okay, that’s just not my, like, mode of being, so if that’s what you’re trying to accomplish, stop. I’m pissed that you fucked up the visas and / we can’t—

  ZACK: It wasn’t / me that—

  ABBY: Or whoever, that whoever at Doctors Without Borders fucked up the visas and we can’t see my family, and I’m upset that you came home from work early to jack off because you thought I’d be out,
I’m not feeling great about those things, but just . . . live with it. Because I am so fucking proud of you, of what you’re doing here, and I’m sorry I’m a pain in the ass sometimes, but I do not. Want. To leave. All right?

  (Pause. Softening) Homey?

  ZACK: Okay.

  (She takes his face in her hands. They kiss. It deepens.)

  ABBY: Is this okay?

  ZACK (While kissing): Mm-hm.

  ABBY: What?

  ZACK: Mmmmm.

  (He pushes her down on the couch. She reaches to take off her shirt.)

  Scene Two

  Several hours later. It’s dark outside. Abby and Zack sleep deeply, mostly naked and entangled.

  Silence, except for their breathing.

  A phone vibrates. They continue to sleep. Around the fifth time it vibrates, Abby lifts her head.

  ABBY: Homey, I think that’s—

  ZACK: Shhhh. No it’s not.

  (It has stopped. They drift off again. After several seconds it begins again.)

  ABBY (Drowsily): Baby, you gotta let me up.

  (He grunts.)

  It could be my dad.

  ZACK: He’ll call back.

  ABBY: It could be about Meg.

  (Reluctantly, he lets go of her and she clambers off him, brutally stubbing her toe on the way to the phone.)

  Ouch! Fuck!

  Arrrgh!

  ZACK (Waking up from having drifted off again): Whatsa matter.

  (She answers the phone.)

  ABBY: Hello? Shit. Hello? Daddy? Yeah, hi. Sorry. I just stubbed my toe and it hurts like a motherfucker. No I’m fine, I’m okay. Ffffffff. I’m okay. What’s up?

  (She hops over to sit as she listens.)

  When?

  Oh my God.

  (Zack sits up.)

  Well of course I’m gonna—don’t be ridiculous.

  Fine, but you can’t ask me not to worry, that’s just . . .

  What time?

  Will you call me when you know?

  Are you okay?

  That was unconvincing. Once more, with feeling.

  Yeah. Yeah.

  (Almost a whisper) Yeah.

  I’m here, anytime, okay? Whenever.

  Love you too.

  (She hangs up.)

  ZACK: What’s up?

  ABBY: They’re gonna have to induce. I guess her blood pressure / just . . .

  ZACK: Oh, no.

  ABBY: Dad says it’s a totally standard procedure but he sounds like he’s been crying. He gets this throaty thing in his voice.

  ZACK: I’ve heard it.

  ABBY: Oh, right. Of course you have.

  ZACK: It is standard.