3. Black Clouds

You know, I'd like to write a book
That everyone would read
My lives and dreams and sufferings
They'd all remember me

But the twisted way things seem sometimes
The only words they'd memorize
Of the hundred thousand that I wrote
Are the crippling, crumbling scribblings
Of a suicide note

I'm the black cloud to your silver lining, baby
Just lay all your blame on me
Love may be expensive
But I'll take your pain for free

Soda Lake


Prologue

The house is empty. The lights are dim.

Robert walks onstage, like before. He addresses the audience with, again, less than full enthusiasm.

ROBERT: Hello. Again.

He pulls a piece of paper from his pocket.

ROBERT: Okay, let's see...last week, Vanessa showed up unannounced, chewed out Angela for, ya know, leaving and stuff. But before that, Jason and Angela went to the video store. Now, this is important bec--

Offstage, from (apparently) inside the kitchen, there is a crash: not hideously loud, but noticeable; a chair falling over, maybe.

ROBERT: The hell? ...Um. Anyway. Where was I...right, yeah, so they went to the video store together, which made Jason--

The kitchen door opens. A young woman we've never seen before exits, checking to make sure there's no one to see her. She creeps out toward the living room in full-out stealth mode, bent over and tip-toeing. There's an envelope in her right hand.

Robert watches her, deeply confused. The woman silently reaches the coffee table, and -- with one last Solid Snake glance around -- slips the envelope under one of the video game controllers.

As silently as she arrived, the girl returns the kitchen. We hear that same crashing noise again. Then, silence.

ROBERT: What the hell was that?

No answers come from anywhere.

ROBERT: Uh...whatever. Um...oh, screw it, you guys remember what happened. It wasn't that long ago.

He folds the paper into his pocket and starts to walk away, but stops after a few steps and walks back.

ROBERT: Oh, right: we begin at around ten o'clock in the morning, on the next day. So, Sunday. I guess.

He walks away again, but once more stops.

ROBERT: Oh. I was...well, ordered to remind you that Angela held Jason's hand. You know, grabbed it and held onto it. I have no idea why that was so damn important, but I do what I'm told. Sort of.

Exit.


Scene 1 -- the house, 10:00 a.m.

After a moment of silence, Rebecca steps into the living room from the hallway. She begins scanning the room, trying to find something.

A few moments pass, then Jason enters from the hall.

JASON: Hey.

REBECCA: Oh. Hey.

JASON: We were just talking.

REBECCA: Hmm?

JASON: In your room, you were at your computer, I was standing in the doorway, we were talking.

REBECCA: Uh. Yeah, sounds right.

JASON: You told me you had to go to the bathroom.

REBECCA: I did. Have to go.

JASON: Okay, but that was ten minutes ago, and you're out here now. You left. We were talking, we were having a conversation, and you left.

REBECCA: I...I thought you were done.

JASON: I was in the middle of a sentence.

REBECCA: ...Oh.

JASON: What the fuck, Rebecca?

REBECCA: I...uh...

JASON: You didn't want to talk to me?

REBECCA: No. I mean, yeah. I--

JASON: What the hell--

REBECCA: I didn't want to have that conversation with you.

JASON: What conversation?

REBECCA: The Angela conversation.

JASON: Oh.

REBECCA: I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm here for you, I'm in your corner, I just...

JASON: Don't want to listen to me babble.

REBECCA: Yes. No! No no.

JASON: Look, I'm sorry if me talking about this bugs you, you never said anything before--

REBECCA: It doesn't bug me.

JASON: But you don't want to listen to it.

REBECCA: [sigh] Not this morning, Jason.

JASON: ...Sorry. I was happy. I was, ya know, feeling good. I mean, last night, she...

REBECCA: [overlapping] Grabbed your hand. Yeah, I know. You know how I know ? 'Cause you just told about 77 times in twenty minutes. And even if you hadn't been chanting it like a mantra, I still would have known, 'cause I was there. Okay? There are days when this forlorn unrequited love thing is cute, and there are days when you seep into Creepy Stalker territory, and that's where you are today, and that's why I left in the middle of your sentence.

JASON: Because I was creeping you out.

REBECCA: 'Cause you were creeping me out.

A brief pause.

JASON: Not to change the subject--

REBECCA: God forbid.

JASON: But I get the feeling that you guys are laughing behind my back about this.

REBECCA: The Angela thing?

JASON: Yeah.

REBECCA: How is this changing the subject?

JASON: Okay.

REBECCA: We're not laughing at you! Really, we're all here for you. We all kinda wish you'd just ask her out already and get it over with, but...

JASON: Mike said everyone knows.

REBECCA: Yeah. I didn't tell 'em, but yeah. They figured it out on their own, I think.

JASON: And you're not making fun of me?

REBECCA: No. Well, yeah, but not for this.

Jason sits on the couch, dejected.

JASON: Maybe I do need to turn it down some.

REBECCA: Eh. You can't turn it down. It's love, Jaybird. It doesn't come with a volume knob. [off Jason's look] Wow. That was cheesy.

JASON: Little bit.

REBECCA: Sorry.

JASON: And don't call me "Jaybird."

REBECCA: Gotcha.

JASON: And next time I slip into Creepy Stalker mode, tell me. Don't just...

REBECCA: ...run away?

JASON: Yeah.

REBECCA: 'kay.

JASON: Because--

His eyes fall on the envelope.

JASON: Oh, hell.

He picks it up.

REBECCA: What? [sees] Oh.

The front door opens. Patrick opens. He appears agitated.

PATRICK: Will one of you please remind why I go to church?

REBECCA: Because your uncle bet you you couldn't go for six months in a row and you're too stubborn to lose.

PATRICK: That's right. So: what's goin' on?

JASON: [holds up envelope] We had a visitor sometime last night.

PATRICK: ...Is that from Stephanie?

JASON: Yep.

PATRICK: Did she come in through the window again?

JASON: Most likely.

PATRICK: Fuck.

REBECCA: Should we call the cops? I mean, she did break and enter.

PATRICK: No. Louis wouldn't want us to.

JASON: Then someone should probably call Louis.

REBECCA: Yeah.

A beat. Then:

JASON: 1-2-3-not it.

REBECCA: [Overlapping] Not it.

PATRICK: [Overlap, but late] Not i-- fuck!

JASON: Good luck, man.

Patrick takes the envelope and heads for the kitchen.

PATRICK: He's at work?

JASON: Should be.

PATRICK: You do remember he punched me in the face when he left, yeah?

JASON: Yeah.

REBECCA: I wouldn't bring that up.

PATRICK: Thanks.

Exits to kitchen.


Scene 2 -- Pizza Dome, later that day

Pizza Dome is a rundown, embarassing little shack of a restaurant. There's a somewhat large dining area, but we only see a few tables -- it doesn't matter, really, because they're all empty. The place is totally deserted. Except, that is, for a lone WAITRESS sitting on a stool near the door, and Louis, standing by the telephone on the far wall.

Nothing happens at all. The two people we're looking at may as well be wax sculptures. Until:

WAITRESS: Jeez, we're slow.

LOUIS: Yeah.

WAITRESS: I mean, even for a Sunday.

LOUIS: Yeah.

WAITRESS: It hasn't been this slow since...well, last Sunday.

LOUIS: Yeah.

WAITRESS: But even last Sunday wasn't this slow. I mean, this is slow. Ya know?

LOUIS: Yeah.

WAITRESS: Might as well close up. Go home.

LOUIS: Yeah.

WAITRESS: No sense paying us to be here.

LOUIS: Yeah.

WAITRESS: 'Cause we're just doin' nothing. At all.

LOUIS: Yeah.

WAITRESS: I mean, at least with you, you're a cook. You get paid the same no matter how many customers we got.

LOUIS: Yeah.

WAITRESS: But me, I gotta rely on tips. And when we ain't got customers, I get no tips. You know?

LOUIS: Yeah.

The Waitress puts a piece of gum in her mouth.

WAITRESS: Man...it is so slow.

LOUIS: Yeah.

WAITRESS: It's never this slow.

LOUIS: Yeah.

Silence. The Waitress cracks her gum.

LOUIS: Yeah.

WAITRESS: What?

LOUIS: Hmm? Oh, uh...nothing.

The Waitress sees someone outside.

WAITRESS: Oh! A customer!

She runs over toward Louis, spits her gum into a trashcan near the wall, and runs back just as the door opens. Patrick enters, envelope in hand.

WAITRESS: Welcome to the Pizza Dome, you'll be dining in today?

PATRICK: Uh, no. I'm just here to see Louis.

She is devastated.

WAITRESS: Oh. Okay. [walks away] Spit my gum out for nothin'.

She exits to the kitchen area of Pizza Dome, behind Louis. Louis, meanwhile, hasn't moved the whole time -- he's still standing in the same place, staring at Patrick.

PATRICK: Hey.

LOUIS: Hey.

PATRICK: [looking around] Kinda dead today, huh?

LOUIS: Yeah.

PATRICK: Is it always this slow on--

LOUIS: Don't. Please. I've been listening to that for hours now.

PATRICK: Okay.

LOUIS: Thank you.

PATRICK: Is that a new waitress?

LOUIS: No. [pause] Yes. [pause] Maybe. I'm not really sure. We go through waitresses quick around here, they kinda blur together.

PATRICK: I don't think I've seen her before. I mean, when I was--

LOUIS: Can we just get this over with?

PATRICK: ...Yeah. I, uh, guess you want this.

LOUIS: Yeah.

Patrick hands him the envelope. Louis continues glaring. Patrick is uneasy for a moment.

PATRICK: Did you...did you tell her you...you moved?

LOUIS: You mean, did I tell her that my best friends decided to throw me out because they couldn't put up with her psycho bullshit? Yeah, I left her a message.

PATRICK: Louis...

LOUIS: I'm sorry she broke in again. I don't know what you want me to do about it, but I'm sorry. The girl is fucking crazy, Patrick.

PATRICK: Yeah.

LOUIS: Her mother is supposed to make sure she takes her medicine, but that old woman is more fucked-up than Stephie. We're lucky all she's done is break in and leave letters.

PATRICK: Louis, if she does it again...we're gonna have to call the cops.

LOUIS: Yeah. I know. Look, I'll go by her house when I get off. I'll...try to talk some sense into her. If I can't do that, at least I can get her to start breaking into where I live now.

PATRICK: You're with your mom?

LOUIS: Yeah. Just for a little while, 'til I get on my feet again.

PATRICK: Cool.

Awkward silence.

PATRICK: Well then. I should go.

LOUIS: Okay.

PATRICK: I...um...well.

LOUIS: Sorry for punching you before.

PATRICK: Oh. That. That's, uh...it...um. It's okay. My uncle says I should forgive you.

LOUIS: The uncle who makes you go to church?

PATRICK: Yeah. He says I can't keep anger in my soul, 'cause I have Jesus living in my heart.

LOUIS: And you thought it was just acid reflux.

PATRICK: [chuckles] Yeah. Well. I'll see you.

LOUIS: Yeah.

He heads for the door. As he does, Louis opens the envelope and reads the letter inside. Just as Patrick opens the door...

LOUIS: Wait.

PATRICK: What?

LOUIS: This isn't for me.

PATRICK: What?

LOUIS: It's for you.


Scene 3 -- the house, later that night

Rebecca sits in the center of couch, letter in hand; Angela sits to her left side, Jason on her right. Michael is pacing behind the couch, while Patrick is in the chair closest to the front door, idly strumming an acoustic guitar. The remains of a feast of Chinese food lay scattered on the table.

MICHAEL: Read that last part again.

REBECCA: Which?

MICHAEL: The one where we're evil.

REBECCA: That's, like, all of it.

MICHAEL: Okay...the part where we're soulless and evil.

REBECCA: Oh, right: "And the day will come when you see yourselves as the soulless, evil parasites you are and will regret the pain you have rendered across humanity." And "soulless," "parasites," and "rendered" are all spelled incorrectly.

MICHAEL: Wow.

ANGELA: Didn't Louis say she was a writer?

JASON: Well, he said she was trying to be a writer. Which isn't the same thing.

REBECCA: I'm pretty sure this fourth paragraph is just paraphrasing a couple Nine Inch Nails songs.

ANGELA: Should we do something about this? I mean, call the police, something? Because this really makes me uncomfortable.

JASON: She's broken into our house on multiple occasions. She's demonstrably less-than-sane.

REBECCA: And she's a bad, bad writer.

JASON: Seriously...I'm not too wild about this letter. It is kinda disturbing.

PATRICK: Louis told me she was harmless.

MICHAEL: Really?

PATRICK: Yeah. But a few minutes before, he was telling me we were "lucky" that these letters are all she's done.

ANGELA: I agree. I mean, you guys have put up with this more than I have. I'm new here. But I think we should call the police.

REBECCA: Hey -- as much as I want to slap Stephanie for this letter, she's not threatening us or anything. It's just a couple of pages of wounded bile.

MICHAEL: And hell, my mom has called us worse things than "soulless."

JASON: Yeah, but your mom didn't break into our house in the middle of the night to leave that message.

MICHAEL: True.

PATRICK: Guys...Louis doesn't want us to do anything. He says he'll take care of it.

JASON: And he's proven so trustworthy on this subject in the past, so I'm sure there's no need to worry.

PATRICK: Please...let's just do what he wants on this one. Just this time. If she does it again, I'll call the cops myself.

The group thinks for a minute.

REBECCA: Okay.

MICHAEL: Sure.

JASON: I guess.

ANGELA: ...Yeah.

PATRICK: Thank you.

MICHAEL: All right. Well, it's been fun, but I gotta go to bed.

REBECCA: You have class in the morning?

MICHAEL: Yeah, at eight-thirty.

REBECCA: Wake me up before you leave. I gotta be at work early.

MICHAEL: Sure. G'night, people.

Everyone offers a similar sentiment. Michael exits to the hallway.

REBECCA: Actually, I should go, too. If I don't stop now, I'll be proofreading this letter until dawn. 'Night, guys.

Again, everyone repeats it, and Rebecca exits to the hallway.

Things are quiet for a moment around the table. Jason picks up the letter and skims over it. Patrick plays a melody on the guitar.

ANGELA: Oh, the fortune cookies.

She grabs hers.

ANGELA: Come on, you guys, this is important. We must bask in the ancient wisdom of the Orient.

JASON: Do we have to?

ANGELA: Yes.

JASON: Okay.

He takes his.

ANGELA: You too, Patrick.

PATRICK: Okay.

He takes his. They open their cookies and read their fortunes.

ANGELA: Hmm. "A new romance is around the corner." About time.

The other two say nothing.

ANGELA: Well? Come on.

JASON: "You will die a terrible, terrible death." [off her look] Or, maybe it says, "There is no time like the present."

ANGELA: Ah. And Patrick?

PATRICK: "Every choice you make bears consequences."

ANGELA: Really?

PATRICK: See?

JASON: What a horrible fortune.

PATRICK: It's okay. I can deal with the consequences of my choices. 'Cause I have Jesus living in my heart.

ANGELA: Jesus lives in your heart?

PATRICK: Sure does, according to my uncle.

JASON: Phenomenal cosmic powers...

ANGELA: ...itty-bitty living space.

PATRICK: They'll be here all week, folks.

ANGELA: I think I'm gonna crash, too. [stands] Oh, Jason -- maybe you wanna make sure the windows are, you know, locked before you go to bed?

JASON: Will do.

ANGELA: Thank you. Good morrow, kind sirs.

JASON: Goodnight.

PATRICK: See ya.

Exit Angela. Patrick plays that same melody again.

Jason stands.

PATRICK: You going to bed, too?

JASON: No, I'm gonna stay up and do some reading. I'm way behind.

PATRICK: Okay.

JASON: "Every choice you make bears consequences"?

PATRICK: The ancient wisdom of the Orient.

JASON: Indeed.

He starts to walk off, but stops.

JASON: You know--

PATRICK: Yes, I know she grabbed your hand. And no, we aren't laughing at you behind your back.

JASON: ...Oh. Okay.

PATRICK: But I do have it from reputable sources that she's to begin a new romance soon. So you want to get in on that, there's no time like the present.

JASON: ...That's it. No more Chinese food.

PATRICK: Sure.

Jason starts to exit again. Patrick plays that melody one more time.

JASON: That's my favorite song of yours.

PATRICK: Me too.

JASON: All right. Later, man.

PATRICK: Yeah.

Exit Jason.

Patrick strums his guitar a few more times.

PATRICK: Every choice bears consequences.

The lights dim, just a little bit. Enough to indicate that we're about to see isn't happening in the current time frame.

Louis enters the room from the hallway. He sits on the couch.

LOUIS: She called me again.

PATRICK: Stephanie?

LOUIS: Yeah.

PATRICK: She likes you.

LOUIS: She's kinda weird, though.

PATRICK: She'd have to be. She likes you.

LOUIS: He's here all week, folks.

PATRICK: Twice on Sundays.

LOUIS: I think I'm gonna call her back. Ask her out.

PATRICK: Go ahead.

LOUIS: You don't mind?

PATRICK: Why would I mind?

LOUIS: Well. You saw her first. She goes to class with you. You asked her out last week.

PATRICK: Yeah. And she said no.

LOUIS: Well, yeah.

PATRICK: Largely, I think, because she likes you.

LOUIS: Yeah, definitely not 'cause of your awful appearance and hideous personality.

PATRICK: Of course not.

LOUIS: So you don't mind?

PATRICK: No. Ask her out. Good luck. May your life together be long and happy. Despite her, you know, weirdness.

LOUIS: Is she that weird?

PATRICK: Nah, not really. Not that I've seen.

LOUIS: Okay. If she turns out to be a psycho, I'm blaming you.

PATRICK: Naturally.

Louis stands and heads back to the hallway. Patrick plays the melody.

LOUIS: That new?

PATRICK: Yeah.

LOUIS: Got a title?

PATRICK: "Black Clouds."

LOUIS: Cool.

Louis exits.

Patrick plays the melody one last time...but ends with a bad chord.

Lights out.