STOP! HOLD!
Andie Bottrell
He's tall, dark blond, thin and handsome. His fingers, long and bony. Turned sideways he hardly exists. His hair comes down just below his eyelids. His stance is often just slightly left heavy.
She's tall, but not so tall as he is. Her hair is indeterminate. Her skin is fair like his is, but slightly more flawed where his is flawless. She's got a gut around the middle. She's planted on both feet.
He walks in the front door of the apartment. She sits on the floor watching TV, leaning against the bed, eating chips out of a family sized bag. He does not acknowledge her. He sits, back to her, at the kitchen table and opens his computer to "surf" or to type or to finish work or for pleasure.
She is more aware of him than he is of her. He wants to forget his day. She wants to begin hers. Hers begins with him. After a while she shuts off the TV and puts the chips away, ashamed of them. Of herself for eating them. She stands behind him. Her hands rise and want to touch his neck, rub his shoulders, but they hesitate, unsure. Finally she touches his shoulder and he jumps.
TIM
What is it?
GLORIA
I was- I could rub your shoulders, your neck. If it's still... sore?
TIM
Oh.
GLORIA
Okay?
TIM
Yeah. Fine.
She begins.
TIM
Thanks.
GLORIA
Sure. Tough day?
TIM
I guess.
GLORIA
Yeah?
TIM
No. Not really.
GLORIA
Oh.
TIM
What did you do?
GLORIA
You know...
TIM
You should get out more.
GLORIA
You're right.
Tim closes the computer and begins to enjoy the back rub.
She stops.
Tim looks at her. She walks to the bed and lays down. Tim gets up and goes in the bathroom.
Gloria gets out of bed and takes her baggy, sloppy clothes off so that she is only in her panties.
She gets back into bed and tries to hide her gut with her pillow and the covers, unconsciously.
She waits.
And waits.
And waits.
The toilet flushes.
Tim comes back out and turns the light off and gets in bed. Never looking at her.
Pitch dark.
Gloria cries.
And cries.
And cries.
Tim snores.
Gloria gets out of bed, wraps herself in a robe and steps outside. Under a lamplight. A busy city street, now quiet with the dead night.
Gloria speaks honestly. To no one.
GLORIA
Didn't I tell ya? It's at night that I need to be held. I crave food to fill my belly up, shut my mind up, a story, a thousand stories to do the same, but still, even all together, all the food and all the stories, just ain't the same, ain't enough to equate the feeling, the full, satisfactory feeling of bein' held in the arms of the one you love. And it's been far too long since that feelin's been felt, my skin's grown cold and lonesome blue. See, I don't think I know how to even begin a day now, seeing as I never have ever truly woken up. I'm still waiting to be held, so that I can sleep soundly. Still waiting to be loved, so that I can wake up.
She walks down the street until she disappears from view.
Tim snores himself awake with a jolt and sits up. He turns the light on and feels the empty bedside. He gets out of bed and looks around. He sits back down in bed and stares straight ahead.
TIM
I don't find her attractive any more. I don't mean just physically. I don't mean the gut. I mean she's gone somewhere inside her mind and she's gone. It's not fun. It's not sexy. It's stale and don't judge me. Life's short. I'm entitled to my desires, to lightness and fun and to shallow beauty. I'll only be this young once. What am I doing here? I have to get out. I'll grow old here. I'll die here if I stay. She'll take me down with her. (pause) Anastasia. Now there was a woman worth living for. Anastasia. I wonder if she's still at the bar. Maybe it's not too late to change my mind about tonight.
He gets out of bed and gets dressed. He combs his hair, grabs his wallet and keys and heads to the door just as it opens and Gloria comes in hauling a huge, red, street STOP sign, still attached to the pole.
TIM
What on...
She pulls it into the middle of the room, sets it upright with great effort as Tim looks on in amazement, then gets back in bed. Tim looks back at her, then the sign, then her again and leaves.
Gloria looks at the door, surprised, then gets up and looks out the window. She goes over to the Stop sign and drags it in front of the front door, blocking it from opening.
She gets back in bed and turns on the TV.
The TV plays all night, even after she's fallen asleep. The TV plays.
Morning comes. The sun rises.
Gloria denies the sun it's presence, hiding under her covers. The TV continues to play.
Tim is at the door, but it wont open with the STOP sign blocking it.
TIM
Gloria?
She will not answer him.
TIM
Gloria?
He will not beg her to answer him.
He breaks through the window and comes in and begins packing his bags.
His bags are packed now and he looks over at her. He sets his bags by the window and sits on the bed. Sits on top of her- her who is under the covers.
She screams. He moves over and lifts the covers up. She looks at him. He looks at her.
TIM
Anastasia Billings. 4023 Iodine Lane. Please forward my mail there.
He touches her face.
TIM
I've grown to become revolted by you and I'm not sure how exactly you've done it. It's sort of amazing, considering how much I loved you in the beginning. I would have killed for you. Now... look at you.
GLORIA
You're being needlessly cruel. I know it all already.
TIM
Yes. Of course.
GLORIA
She will revolt you eventually, too. Anastasia. Whoever.
TIM
Yes. Probably.
GLORIA
It's too cruel. This love you give. I'm beginning to think the problem isn't me-
TIM
Don't be ridiculous.
GLORIA
What was it your Mother called you when you were five?
TIM
Nothing. She never called me anything ugly.
GLORIA
Selfish? You selfish little spoiled brat- wasn't it?
TIM
She was drunk off her ass. She didn't know what she was saying.
GLORIA
So it wasn't true?
TIM
Of course it was. And why shouldn't I be selfish? Who else is there?
GLORIA
Well... not any longer, but for a while, there was me.
TIM
No. There wasn't. That was your mistake. Thinking you were. See, there's never anyone. There's never anyone but you.
Gloria gets up and emphatically points at the STOP sign.
TIM
Yes. Of course. Goodbye then.
Tim starts to leave through the window and Gloria runs, drops to her knees and grabs strong hold of his legs.
TIM
Gloria. Gloria. Do grow up, dear. You'll never make it to the end if you take each departure this hard.
She holds harder. Determined. He wont go.
TIM
Gloria. I don't love you. I'm not real. I don't exist. You're alone and you've always been alone and you'll always be alone and you'll one day die alone and that piece of factuality is for you to come to peace with. Not me. I can't help you. There is nothing left for me to do- to feed your delusions.
GLORIA
Didn't I tell you? It's at night that I need to be HELD!
TIM
But, baby, dear, it's not night any more. It's day. It's daylight now. See?
He tenderly lifts her chin to see out the window. She can't believe it. She squints her eyes, still holding him.
GLORIA
It's... day now?
TIM
Yes. So see? You'll be fine for at least another 12 hours.
GLORIA
Yes. Yes...
She lets go of him and crawls back to lean against the STOP sign.
He starts to go again.
GLORIA
And then?
TIM
And then what?
GLORIA
Exactly. And then what? In 12 hours?
TIM
You'll have your stories and your food. Your food and your stories to pass the time, to comfort you.
GLORIA
How did you know?
TIM
I lived it. Parallel you. Beside you. I saw how you live. It repulsed me, but I saw it all. Every nose wipe, every weak sexual appetite, every clumsy attempt to figure it all out.
GLORIA
You saw it all? And you didn't love me. You saw it all and now you're leaving me.
TIM
That's exactly it.
Tim leaves through the window.
GLORIA
But you were my prince charming and I was...
She looks up at the sign and points.
She stands up and screams.
GLORIA
STOP!!!!
Pitch dark.
Lights up.
Tim and Gloria sit at the table, in love as ever, picking over a full Turkey on a platter on the table.
TIM
Eat!
GLORIA
I'm not hungry!
TIM
Eat! Eat!
GLORIA
I want only you.
They kiss.
And kiss.
And kiss.
He picks her up and her legs surround him. He takes her to the bed where they make love.
The lights fade half.
The love making is already over.
He turns the TV on. She gets out of bed and dances, seductively around the pole which turns Tim's head back to her.
He gets out of bed and goes to her once more.
They make love on the kitchen table, next to the Turkey. Tim grabs a bite at one point, during.
She slaps him playfully for it and send him to pleasure her down under.
The lights go black once more and when they come up Gloria is gone and Tim sits on the floor, hanging on to the Stop sign.
TIM
It's no use thinking about it. The greater meaning of things. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. The sex. That's something to hold on to. Right? Afterlife? War? Bombs? God? Meaning? Politics? Don't think on it. You can't change it. You can't even find it on the map of reasoning. You just gotta accept it- or don't- but you can't question it. It exists- same as you- and then... who knows. For now, there's sex.
Gloria comes in the window.
GLORIA
And what if you don't have sex? Then what?
Tim gets up and grabs the Turkey.
TIM
There's food...
And turns the TV on.
TIM
And stories...
GLORIA
So you get it? You really get me, huh? You know what I need.
Tim turns off the TV, puts down the Turkey and looks at her.
TIM
To be held.
GLORIA
At night.
TIM
Come.
GLORIA
Finally. That's right.
She walks to him. He holds her in his arms. He tries to kiss her and she stops him.
GLORIA
What do I need, Tim?
TIM
To be held.
GLORIA
At night.
They get into bed and spoon.
GLORIA
Tell me again. It's so sweat to hear it while it's being done. What do I need, Tim?
TIM
Just to be held at night.
GLORIA
And is that so much to ask, Tim? Of you? Or anyone?
TIM
No. It's not so much. It's the least we can expect.
GLORIA
And you? Do you ever need that, Tim?
TIM
Every single night. Or every other, maybe.
GLORIA
Yes, some nights can be faced alone I guess. Maybe. A few.
TIM
I like the scent of you.
GLORIA
Still? It doesn't revolt you yet? (pause) It's not mine. I bought it. It was my Mother's brand.
TIM
I'll bet I would have liked her.
GLORIA
I'll bet you would have. (pause) What are we doing here?
TIM
Ask not.
GLORIA
Yes. Just stop.
TIM
Yes. Stop.
They hold onto each other forever.
GLORIA
Does it ever feel to you that we are just waiting for the crashing of the end of times?
TIM
It occurs to me all the time. There's nothing we can do.
GLORIA
But stop.
TIM
And hold each other.
GLORIA
I thought I revolted you.
TIM
Turns out, others revolt me more.
GLORIA
Yourself included?
TIM
Of course. Myself included. You too?
GLORIA
Oh, God, yes! Me too. (pause) What time is it?
TIM
It's best, I think, for our sanity that we not continue to ask.
GLORIA
Let's turn on the TV again. I want to hear some stories.
TIM
I'll tell you one instead.
GLORIA
But can you do all the parts?
TIM
Of course.
GLORIA
Okay. (she pulls his arms tighter around her) Make it good.
Lights fade to black.
The end.
Andie Bottrell
He's tall, dark blond, thin and handsome. His fingers, long and bony. Turned sideways he hardly exists. His hair comes down just below his eyelids. His stance is often just slightly left heavy.
She's tall, but not so tall as he is. Her hair is indeterminate. Her skin is fair like his is, but slightly more flawed where his is flawless. She's got a gut around the middle. She's planted on both feet.
He walks in the front door of the apartment. She sits on the floor watching TV, leaning against the bed, eating chips out of a family sized bag. He does not acknowledge her. He sits, back to her, at the kitchen table and opens his computer to "surf" or to type or to finish work or for pleasure.
She is more aware of him than he is of her. He wants to forget his day. She wants to begin hers. Hers begins with him. After a while she shuts off the TV and puts the chips away, ashamed of them. Of herself for eating them. She stands behind him. Her hands rise and want to touch his neck, rub his shoulders, but they hesitate, unsure. Finally she touches his shoulder and he jumps.
TIM
What is it?
GLORIA
I was- I could rub your shoulders, your neck. If it's still... sore?
TIM
Oh.
GLORIA
Okay?
TIM
Yeah. Fine.
She begins.
TIM
Thanks.
GLORIA
Sure. Tough day?
TIM
I guess.
GLORIA
Yeah?
TIM
No. Not really.
GLORIA
Oh.
TIM
What did you do?
GLORIA
You know...
TIM
You should get out more.
GLORIA
You're right.
Tim closes the computer and begins to enjoy the back rub.
She stops.
Tim looks at her. She walks to the bed and lays down. Tim gets up and goes in the bathroom.
Gloria gets out of bed and takes her baggy, sloppy clothes off so that she is only in her panties.
She gets back into bed and tries to hide her gut with her pillow and the covers, unconsciously.
She waits.
And waits.
And waits.
The toilet flushes.
Tim comes back out and turns the light off and gets in bed. Never looking at her.
Pitch dark.
Gloria cries.
And cries.
And cries.
Tim snores.
Gloria gets out of bed, wraps herself in a robe and steps outside. Under a lamplight. A busy city street, now quiet with the dead night.
Gloria speaks honestly. To no one.
GLORIA
Didn't I tell ya? It's at night that I need to be held. I crave food to fill my belly up, shut my mind up, a story, a thousand stories to do the same, but still, even all together, all the food and all the stories, just ain't the same, ain't enough to equate the feeling, the full, satisfactory feeling of bein' held in the arms of the one you love. And it's been far too long since that feelin's been felt, my skin's grown cold and lonesome blue. See, I don't think I know how to even begin a day now, seeing as I never have ever truly woken up. I'm still waiting to be held, so that I can sleep soundly. Still waiting to be loved, so that I can wake up.
She walks down the street until she disappears from view.
Tim snores himself awake with a jolt and sits up. He turns the light on and feels the empty bedside. He gets out of bed and looks around. He sits back down in bed and stares straight ahead.
TIM
I don't find her attractive any more. I don't mean just physically. I don't mean the gut. I mean she's gone somewhere inside her mind and she's gone. It's not fun. It's not sexy. It's stale and don't judge me. Life's short. I'm entitled to my desires, to lightness and fun and to shallow beauty. I'll only be this young once. What am I doing here? I have to get out. I'll grow old here. I'll die here if I stay. She'll take me down with her. (pause) Anastasia. Now there was a woman worth living for. Anastasia. I wonder if she's still at the bar. Maybe it's not too late to change my mind about tonight.
He gets out of bed and gets dressed. He combs his hair, grabs his wallet and keys and heads to the door just as it opens and Gloria comes in hauling a huge, red, street STOP sign, still attached to the pole.
TIM
What on...
She pulls it into the middle of the room, sets it upright with great effort as Tim looks on in amazement, then gets back in bed. Tim looks back at her, then the sign, then her again and leaves.
Gloria looks at the door, surprised, then gets up and looks out the window. She goes over to the Stop sign and drags it in front of the front door, blocking it from opening.
She gets back in bed and turns on the TV.
The TV plays all night, even after she's fallen asleep. The TV plays.
Morning comes. The sun rises.
Gloria denies the sun it's presence, hiding under her covers. The TV continues to play.
Tim is at the door, but it wont open with the STOP sign blocking it.
TIM
Gloria?
She will not answer him.
TIM
Gloria?
He will not beg her to answer him.
He breaks through the window and comes in and begins packing his bags.
His bags are packed now and he looks over at her. He sets his bags by the window and sits on the bed. Sits on top of her- her who is under the covers.
She screams. He moves over and lifts the covers up. She looks at him. He looks at her.
TIM
Anastasia Billings. 4023 Iodine Lane. Please forward my mail there.
He touches her face.
TIM
I've grown to become revolted by you and I'm not sure how exactly you've done it. It's sort of amazing, considering how much I loved you in the beginning. I would have killed for you. Now... look at you.
GLORIA
You're being needlessly cruel. I know it all already.
TIM
Yes. Of course.
GLORIA
She will revolt you eventually, too. Anastasia. Whoever.
TIM
Yes. Probably.
GLORIA
It's too cruel. This love you give. I'm beginning to think the problem isn't me-
TIM
Don't be ridiculous.
GLORIA
What was it your Mother called you when you were five?
TIM
Nothing. She never called me anything ugly.
GLORIA
Selfish? You selfish little spoiled brat- wasn't it?
TIM
She was drunk off her ass. She didn't know what she was saying.
GLORIA
So it wasn't true?
TIM
Of course it was. And why shouldn't I be selfish? Who else is there?
GLORIA
Well... not any longer, but for a while, there was me.
TIM
No. There wasn't. That was your mistake. Thinking you were. See, there's never anyone. There's never anyone but you.
Gloria gets up and emphatically points at the STOP sign.
TIM
Yes. Of course. Goodbye then.
Tim starts to leave through the window and Gloria runs, drops to her knees and grabs strong hold of his legs.
TIM
Gloria. Gloria. Do grow up, dear. You'll never make it to the end if you take each departure this hard.
She holds harder. Determined. He wont go.
TIM
Gloria. I don't love you. I'm not real. I don't exist. You're alone and you've always been alone and you'll always be alone and you'll one day die alone and that piece of factuality is for you to come to peace with. Not me. I can't help you. There is nothing left for me to do- to feed your delusions.
GLORIA
Didn't I tell you? It's at night that I need to be HELD!
TIM
But, baby, dear, it's not night any more. It's day. It's daylight now. See?
He tenderly lifts her chin to see out the window. She can't believe it. She squints her eyes, still holding him.
GLORIA
It's... day now?
TIM
Yes. So see? You'll be fine for at least another 12 hours.
GLORIA
Yes. Yes...
She lets go of him and crawls back to lean against the STOP sign.
He starts to go again.
GLORIA
And then?
TIM
And then what?
GLORIA
Exactly. And then what? In 12 hours?
TIM
You'll have your stories and your food. Your food and your stories to pass the time, to comfort you.
GLORIA
How did you know?
TIM
I lived it. Parallel you. Beside you. I saw how you live. It repulsed me, but I saw it all. Every nose wipe, every weak sexual appetite, every clumsy attempt to figure it all out.
GLORIA
You saw it all? And you didn't love me. You saw it all and now you're leaving me.
TIM
That's exactly it.
Tim leaves through the window.
GLORIA
But you were my prince charming and I was...
She looks up at the sign and points.
She stands up and screams.
GLORIA
STOP!!!!
Pitch dark.
Lights up.
Tim and Gloria sit at the table, in love as ever, picking over a full Turkey on a platter on the table.
TIM
Eat!
GLORIA
I'm not hungry!
TIM
Eat! Eat!
GLORIA
I want only you.
They kiss.
And kiss.
And kiss.
He picks her up and her legs surround him. He takes her to the bed where they make love.
The lights fade half.
The love making is already over.
He turns the TV on. She gets out of bed and dances, seductively around the pole which turns Tim's head back to her.
He gets out of bed and goes to her once more.
They make love on the kitchen table, next to the Turkey. Tim grabs a bite at one point, during.
She slaps him playfully for it and send him to pleasure her down under.
The lights go black once more and when they come up Gloria is gone and Tim sits on the floor, hanging on to the Stop sign.
TIM
It's no use thinking about it. The greater meaning of things. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. The sex. That's something to hold on to. Right? Afterlife? War? Bombs? God? Meaning? Politics? Don't think on it. You can't change it. You can't even find it on the map of reasoning. You just gotta accept it- or don't- but you can't question it. It exists- same as you- and then... who knows. For now, there's sex.
Gloria comes in the window.
GLORIA
And what if you don't have sex? Then what?
Tim gets up and grabs the Turkey.
TIM
There's food...
And turns the TV on.
TIM
And stories...
GLORIA
So you get it? You really get me, huh? You know what I need.
Tim turns off the TV, puts down the Turkey and looks at her.
TIM
To be held.
GLORIA
At night.
TIM
Come.
GLORIA
Finally. That's right.
She walks to him. He holds her in his arms. He tries to kiss her and she stops him.
GLORIA
What do I need, Tim?
TIM
To be held.
GLORIA
At night.
They get into bed and spoon.
GLORIA
Tell me again. It's so sweat to hear it while it's being done. What do I need, Tim?
TIM
Just to be held at night.
GLORIA
And is that so much to ask, Tim? Of you? Or anyone?
TIM
No. It's not so much. It's the least we can expect.
GLORIA
And you? Do you ever need that, Tim?
TIM
Every single night. Or every other, maybe.
GLORIA
Yes, some nights can be faced alone I guess. Maybe. A few.
TIM
I like the scent of you.
GLORIA
Still? It doesn't revolt you yet? (pause) It's not mine. I bought it. It was my Mother's brand.
TIM
I'll bet I would have liked her.
GLORIA
I'll bet you would have. (pause) What are we doing here?
TIM
Ask not.
GLORIA
Yes. Just stop.
TIM
Yes. Stop.
They hold onto each other forever.
GLORIA
Does it ever feel to you that we are just waiting for the crashing of the end of times?
TIM
It occurs to me all the time. There's nothing we can do.
GLORIA
But stop.
TIM
And hold each other.
GLORIA
I thought I revolted you.
TIM
Turns out, others revolt me more.
GLORIA
Yourself included?
TIM
Of course. Myself included. You too?
GLORIA
Oh, God, yes! Me too. (pause) What time is it?
TIM
It's best, I think, for our sanity that we not continue to ask.
GLORIA
Let's turn on the TV again. I want to hear some stories.
TIM
I'll tell you one instead.
GLORIA
But can you do all the parts?
TIM
Of course.
GLORIA
Okay. (she pulls his arms tighter around her) Make it good.
Lights fade to black.
The end.
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