Beautiful Province 9780300198928

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Contents
Foreword
Beautiful Province

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T H E YA L E D R A M A S E R I E S

David Charles Horn Foundation The Yale Drama Series is funded by the generous support of the David Charles Horn Foundation, established in 2003 by Francine Horn to honor the memory of her husband, David. In keeping with David Horn’s lifetime commitment to the written word, the David Charles Horn Foundation commemorates his aspirations and achievements by supporting new initiatives in the literary and dramatic arts.

Beautiful Province (Belle Province) C LA R E N C E C O O Foreword by John Guare

NEW HAVEN & LONDON

Copyright © 2013 by Clarence Coo. Foreword © 2013 by John Guare. All rights reserved. This book may not be reproduced, in whole or in part, including illustrations, in any form (beyond that copying permitted by Sections 107 and 108 of the U.S. Copyright Law and except by reviewers for the public press), without written permission from the publishers. Yale University Press books may be purchased in quantity for educational, business, or promotional use. For information, please e-mail sales.press@yale .edu (U.S. office) or [email protected] (U.K. office). Set in ITC Galliard type by Integrated Publishing Solutions. Printed in the United States of America. Library of Congress Control Number: 2013939283 ISBN 978-0-300-19546-0 A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library. This paper meets the requirements of ANSI/NISO Z39.48–1992 (Permanence of Paper). 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

All inquiries concerning stock and amateur rights should be addressed to Clarence Coo at [email protected]. No stock or amateur performances of the play may be given without obtaining in advance the written permission of Clarence Coo and paying the requisite fee.

Contents

Foreword, by John Guare vii

Beautiful Province (Belle Province) 1

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Foreword

T

he voice. Without making it sound too much like American Idol (which I confess to never having seen), the Horn Foundation/Yale Drama Series Prize for a new play by an unrecognized playwright in the English-speaking world is all about finding the voice. Last year’s contest received close to nine hundred entries. I as sole judge could not do this alone. But as Edward Albee and David Hare each did in their two-year stints before mine as judge, I assembled a team of readers whose tastes differed from mine and whom I trusted implicitly. We split the Everest of submissions among the readers, who winnowed down their pile to plays that demanded further attention, and passed those around. We read and read. The pile got smaller until there was one. I awarded the 2011 prize (which would be ten thousand dollars and publication of New Light Shining by Yale University Press) to Shannon Murdoch (whom I hoped was not a relative of the notorious Rupert). She came from Footscray, Australia. I pictured her writing her play in a postapocalyptic dingo-ridden pit of outback desolation, courtesy of Mad Max.

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I have since learned that she is no relative of the media mogul and that Footscray is a very pleasant suburb of Melbourne. Shannon Murdoch’s play was not pleasant but felt as if it had been written in an emotional outback, tough, mysterious, cruel, confident. It had a voice. In 2012, my second and final year of judging, Yale University Press again received roughly nine hundred plays from around the world. Would we uncover an English-speaking playwright lost in Tibet? In Yemen? In Kazakhstan? My readers reassembled. We began reading. Lots of slick plays this year. Snazzy comedies that echoed TV sitcoms. A lot of plays about incest. Plays about post-teens, young adults in a hostile world—but hadn’t we seen lots of these? Three plays kept bobbing to the surface. We kept coming back to a tough play about kidnapping eastern Europeans for organ donations that softened at the end. A wonderful Irish play that lost focus in its second half. (I fervently hope these plays get further work and attention.) But one play contained some sort of magnet that kept drawing us back, its intriguing story, its tone, sustained to the very end. I, with the agreement of my readers, declared Beautiful Province to be the winner of the 2012 DC Horn Foundation/Yale Drama Series Prize. Clarence Coo’s play shows what a nightmare over-thetransom submissions can be. The elusive and haunting Beautiful Province reveals its virtues slowly. So many plays today are kitchen-sink what-you-see-is-what-you-get. I loved this play for its dark corners, the way it didn’t wait for you to catch up. Who was this playwright, and where would we find him? Clarence Coo was hardly from an English-speaking yurt in Siberia. We found him in Washington Heights in the upper reaches of Manhattan. At the prize-giving ceremony at Lincoln Center Theater in September 2012, the director Cosmin Chivu, who was

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also one of the readers, presented a semistaged, very stylish reading of this haunting, funny, desperate, insane play that made it clear to the assembled audience that the prize had gone to the right winner. It most definitely has a voice. I sat down with Clarence Coo in February 2013 to learn the genesis of his play and, I hoped, find out in the process who he was. I asked him: What was the first scene he wrote? “One of the car scenes,” he said. He’s a very jovial, openfaced guy in his mid-30s. “I had just watched Terrence Malick’s movie Badlands, which is about a 25-year-old man who runs off on a crime spree with a 15-year-old girl, and they fall in love and commit all these horrible acts in the heartland of America. That put the idea of a road-trip play in my head. I started writing about two Americans of different ages who decide to take a trip from the Northeast to Quebec.” JG: Why Canada? Are you Canadian? CC: No, I’m from outside Alexandria, Virginia. I studied French for a large part of my life and one year decided to take two weeks off from work and go to Quebec City and study French. I was so fascinated by the people there! Especially by how language was so key to their identity and how they felt so strongly about protecting their language. So I wanted to write about Quebec—but, not being Canadian, I knew I had to write about it from the perspective of an outsider. So then I saw Badlands. And I began writing my version of a road-trip play about two characters for whom the French language represented an escape—an escape from their mundane lives and the darker forces of their soul. My travelers would be a middle-aged French teacher and his 15-year-old student. JG: It’s not a kidnapping? CC: No. The boy decides on the spur of the moment to take a trip with his teacher to Canada. JG: The Last of the Mohicans figures mightily in your play. CC: I loved how James Fenimore Cooper’s novel romanticized a time in the mid-eighteenth century when the French

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and the English battled over North America. History was still in the balance, and no one knew if the land would go to the French or to the English. Since I had these two characters who were obsessed with the French language, I thought it would be interesting if this book haunted one of them, this book in which an alternate world exists where the French could have taken over America. JG: An innocent world. CC: An innocent world, yes. JG: That great word “Edenic.” And how did you find the structure of the play? CC: I knew the play would end when the characters had to make a decision about whether they wanted to live in a world of reality or a world of fantasy. JG: Did you study playwriting? CC: I went to grad school at Columbia and studied with Charles Mee. JG: You and Chuck seem to be an odd match. He writes fluid texts in which he gives the director permission to do with the play what the director wishes, but your play would seem to demand that the director and actors listen very carefully to what your text is telling them. CC: That’s so funny you’d say that because Chuck was a big influence in how I write. He is very much into collage and putting together bits of pieces of different things that obsess him and then seeing what happens. This play is structured as a collage. There’s a part of the play that’s Ionesco, the language tapes, and then there’s the Lolita/Badlands road-trip part, and there’s the thread of the play that lives in the world of Last of the Mohicans. That’s something I’ve been trying to do with my writing. Take different worlds, put them into one play, and see what happens. JG: And see what happens. That should be the title of all our lives. CC: See what happens. JG: Your play talks about language as an escape. What about your relation to language? CC: I was born in Manila and spoke Filipino until I was five, when we moved to the United States. My family is a mix of Filipino and Chinese. They spoke multiple languages in my

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house—two dialects of Filipino, one dialect of Chinese, and English. JG: And you had to keep up with all of them? CC: In the end, I didn’t. Once we got to America, I was stubborn and would only speak English, which is very common to children of immigrants. My interest in speaking other languages came later as an adult. JG: What was the first play you saw? CC: Big River. JG: The musical based on Huckleberry Finn, the great American road-trip story. CC: It had a big impact on me. JG: What road trips have you taken? CC: After graduating from the College of William and Mary, I taught English and studied Mandarin in China for three years and went through the strange process of trying to assimilate there. I tried to pass myself off as Chinese by speaking the language, although my Chinese wasn’t so good and eventually people would find out. But I learned how fluid identities could be. JG: Did you go to the Philippines as well? CC: I did. I visited my relatives a few times while I was in China because I was so close. JG: What’s the difference between a Chinese identity and a Filipino identity? CC: I’m going to be very simplistic, but for me, the Chinese have always been obsessed with history and the written language, whereas the Filipinos don’t have that obsession with the past. They’re a mix of Spanish and American and their own native influences. Filipinos live more in the present because they don’t have that preoccupation with an undiluted history. Obviously, there has been history in the Philippines; it’s just not essential to their identity, as it is with the Chinese. And I’m a combination of these two points of view. JG: Why did you apply to Columbia? CC: Because I wanted to live in New York. JG: And now you’re a New Dramatist. CC: I just got in this year. JG: Congratulations. And that’s a seven-year residency, right?

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CC: Yes. JG: And how are you going to use it? CC: For me it’s an experimental sandbox where you can play with actors and directors on work you’re developing. New Dramatists has rehearsal space and performance space. All the freedom that I had when I was a student I can have again for the next seven years. JG: How do you support yourself? CC: I work as an administrator at Columbia for their MFA writing program. It’s in the same school where I had studied, but in a different department. I work with fiction, nonfiction, and poetry people, different genres than mine, but I’m still working with writers. And I’ve been learning a lot from them.

I looked at Clarence Coo and thought of myself as a New Dramatist forty-seven years before in 1966. I silently wished him the stamina for a long, fruitful career in the American theater. As we were about to say good-bye, he reached into his backpack and took out a copy of Six Degrees of Separation. He said, “When I was 18 I had a play of mine produced at the Young Playwrights Festival at the Public Theater. You were giving a talk somewhere, and my dramaturg came to you and asked you to sign this copy of your play for my openingnight present. And you did.” My God, I looked at my signature wishing Clarence Coo all the luck in the world. “Would you sign it again 18 years later?” I happily did and still wish him all the luck in all the worlds he’ll find. He’s early on in his road trip. John Guare

Beautiful Province (Belle Province)

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Cast of Characters

jimmy mr. green nate officer

a 15-year-old boy his 54-year-old high school French teacher a 15-year-old boy; also the trader, farmer, separatist, and andrew’s voice a man in his 30s or 40s; also the waiter, stranger, de gaulle, hudson, and the helicopter voice

Place and Time: Western New York State, Ontario, and Quebec—in the recent past. Note: The four actors can be of any race.

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Act One

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Scene 1 Mr. Green’s Farewell to His Class

mr. green, a 54-year-old high school French teacher in rumpled clothes, addresses his class. He stands next to a wastebasket, holding a stack of papers. He reads a name off each paper, then drops the sheet into the wastebasket. MR. GREEN For Edouard—or should I say Ed?—Disappointing. For Christophe—or should I say Topher?—Deficient. For Madeleine—or should I say Mei Ling?—Dreadful. “D.” “D.” “D.” The results of your exam? Definitely deplorable. Four weeks we spend on two verbs. The result? Disaster! Two verbs! Granted, they are irregular. But that’s no excuse, for these forms— Do. Not. Change. They are immutable! More reliable than the people in your lives. More stable than governments. More dependable than churches or philosophies. These verbs are your deliverance! Commit the patterns to memory. Determine the person, the number, the tense. Then remember the form. That’s all there is. To conjugation. Conjugation. Such a beautiful word. Such a beautiful act.

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Shall we attempt the Imperfect before the final frost of winter? Consider the Conditional before swallows sail back in spring? Sally forth with the Subjunctive before our fecund females ooze out another assemblage of infants? Or are we stuck in Present Tense forever? Can you imagine? Stuck in Present Tense? Time would grind to a halt. Time would stand still! No access to the past. No road to the future. He reads more names and drops more test papers into the wastebasket. Yes, there are— For Matthieu—or Matt—Difficulties. For Rémy—or Rohit—Dangers. For Brigitte—or Britney—Disorientation. Sometimes— Like when I was your age: Delirium! But French. Is. Worth. It. French is contemplation. French is inspiration. French is liberation. French makes existence bearable. Perhaps you ponder how your parents persist existing here? Side by side with steel mills dead and derelict for decades? Perhaps they’ve numbed themselves cashing unemployment checks to purchase methamphetamines. But I like to believe it’s because, before closing their eyes every night, they whisper into their pillows the honeyed verses of Verlaine and Baudelaire. And all that is weighty and dark in their souls is expelled into vapor. For that’s what I do. Without French, life would be unfair! But with French, there is expectation. Anticipation. Exhilaration. Capitulation. For in the past, it was English that capitulated to French.

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In the year 1066, the Norman French conquered the uncouth Anglo-Saxon. And conveyed to them—culture. In the year 1066. Because of the French, we sit at the table with refinement. Do we “eat pigs”? No, we “dine on pork.” Do we “eat cows”? No, we “dine on beef.” Do we “eat cow babies”? No! We “dine on veal.” But alas, the luminosity of French burned too brief over the British Isles. And England’s linguistic treasury went bankrupt. In Chaucer’s Prologue to The Canterbury Tales, the Prioress is ridiculed for speaking bastardized French: He slips into Chaucerian English. “And French she spake full faire and fetisly, After the school of Stratford-at-Bow, For French of Paris was to her unknow.” He shakes the test papers. What was this French from “the school of Stratford-atBow”? Not a distant cry from what you have here, my impish urchins, your French of Western New York. Your French of this Heart-of-Darkness on the Great Lakes. Those English barbarians! Brutes! Payback for the Norman Invasion? They dog-paddled panting across the Channel. And burned down—France. For one hundred years. A Hundred Years’ War! That’s a grand grudge! But a maid of Orleans appeared on the battlefield. Joan of Arc had a vision. She had a dream. A dream of a world in which children would be judged not by the color of their flags but by the content of their vocabulary. She had a dream. A dream that one day little French boys and little French girls would join hands with little English boys and little English girls and recite the irregular verbs of both their languages. But like so many beautiful dreams, she went up in smoke. The English and French were not yet worn down from war. So westward, they watched. They wondered. They

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wandered. The West. This New World. This America. This spacious sky. This fruited plain. Two empires of linguistic thought competing for amber waves of grain. The English. Their goals: Spread slavery. Promote religious intolerance. Encourage the use of tobacco. The French. Their goal. Simply one. The manufacture of stylish hats! Befriend the natives. Who know the way of the beaver. With their shimmery, shiny pelts! For the manufacture of stylish hats! Two versions of the future. A date was set for the final showdown. The Thirteenth of September, 1759. The Battle of the Plains of Abraham. The locale? In the very heart of New France, in the colony called Canada, outside the walls of Quebec City. The players? General James Wolfe in red. The Marquis de Montcalm in blue. The result? Collision. Collapse. Catastrophe. So you speak, not the French of Paris, but the English of a frozen, rusty town forgotten by people who live on the other end of the highway. And so you watch, not the insightful drollery of Molière, but men in too-tight pants tossing an elliptical mass of cowhide. And so you eat blue cheese, not paired with a glass of fine Bordeaux, but as a dipping sauce for chicken wings and celery sticks. How then to communicate with you? As that is my duty. My vocation. My contribution to society. To engender a flow of thought from my font of maturity forward to your adolescent gray matter. He drops more tests into the wastebasket. Gabrielle? Gabby. French to you is a dead idea. Pierre? Pete. French to you is a dead end. Joséphine? Jojo. Speaking French to you is a dead weight. Nathaniel? Nate. He scans the room.

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Nate? Why are you sitting back there? Oh. A pause. Then he crumples Nate’s paper into a ball and drops it into the wastebasket. Let’s not speak French anymore. No. Why should we? Allow me instead to use a word of Anglo-Saxon origin. One with which I am sure you are all familiar. Its phonology is thus—it begins with a labiodental fricative, progresses to the omnipresent “schwa,” and terminates with a voiceless velar plosive: Fuck! He throws the rest of the test papers into the air. And to that, let me add a direct object pronoun. Fuck. You. Shall I append another modifier? Fuck. You. All. Fuck this class. Fuck this school. Fuck this town and fuck your idiot parents and fuck your pathetic petty pointless lives. He lifts the wastebasket and pours the contents out, littering the floor with paper. Fuck you. Fuck me. Present participle: “fucking.” Passive form: “fucked.” I’m fucked! You’re fucked. We’re all fucked. But mostly it’s me. I’m soooooooo fucked! He takes a breath. Undeniably, unconditionally fucked. That’s me. This word? Vulgar. I apologize. Somebody please call the principal. English is ugly. Barbaric. Not beautiful at all. End of scene.

Scene 2 Jimmy and Nate Clean the Classroom

Later that day. jimmy, a 15-year-old boy, and nate, another 15-year-old, collect the scattered test papers off the floor and deposit them into the wastebasket. nate is self-assured. jimmy is not. NATE (Offering a test paper to jimmy.) Here’s yours. jimmy tries to reach for his test, but nate pulls it away. An “A.” Of course. You really liked him. JIMMY Give it to me. nate does. jimmy folds the test paper neatly and places it in his pocket. I wonder if he’ll be okay. NATE Mr. Green? Don’t worry. He’ll be in a better place.

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JIMMY I hope that means he’ll get help. So he can come back soon. NATE No, Jimmy. Mr. Green won’t be coming back. “A better place” means he got fired. It’s a “euphemism.” Which, Mr. Green liked to remind us, is Greek for “a beautiful phrase.” JIMMY I like euphemisms. NATE So did Mr. Green. Until he reached his breaking point. JIMMY He had a different teaching method, that’s all. NATE Maybe it was a little too different, since he failed like every single one of us. Well, except you. JIMMY You were one of the best. ( Pause.) You just need to study a little more. I was thinking when we got better, you and me, we could speak French to each other and no one would ever know what we were saying. NATE Except other people who speak French. JIMMY Or we could have our own secret language. NATE Like Mr. Green? I always felt he had his own secret language. JIMMY Nate, on Friday night, there’s a special on the Discovery Channel about Alexander Hamilton’s house. About this archaeological dig they’re doing there. You want to come over Friday?

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NATE Friday? Usually, I love a good archaeological dig. But I’m going to the lacrosse game. JIMMY Is Connor playing? NATE Yes. JIMMY How about this afternoon? We can go to the creek. Maybe you’ll find another arrowhead in the water. NATE That arrowhead was just a piece of rock. I said it was an arrowhead because I’d been reading that book— JIMMY The Last of the Mohicans. NATE Yeah. JIMMY No, I looked under a microscope. There were like scrapings on the side and everything. NATE For real? JIMMY You want it? NATE What? JIMMY The arrowhead? NATE No, you can keep it. JIMMY It’s real. Like a real artifact. What if I made it into a necklace? You could wear it around your neck. NATE You’re the one who’s really into Indians. JIMMY I thought it was your favorite book. About the land before it was America? When there were no cars and

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it was all trees? When there were no factories and it was all hills? Just Indians and settlers. ( Pause.) I guess you don’t want to go back to the creek. NATE I can’t. Last time, I got a tick bite and had this rash. My mom was so mad. She thought I had Lyme disease. JIMMY We can just hang out in my room. And, you know, play with my microscope. NATE No, I’m—. Not this week. Okay? JIMMY You had a lot of time before. NATE We’re sophomores now. ( Pause.) Connor’s training for the game. And—he wants me to come watch him practice. JIMMY Lacrosse? NATE Yeah. JIMMY Does he know who invented lacrosse? The Indians. Does he know that? NATE

Probably not.

JIMMY You guys hang out a lot. You and Connor, I mean. NATE Yeah. We’re seeing each other.

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JIMMY Seeing each other? NATE It’s a euphemism. For dating? That’s why we “hang out a lot.” JIMMY You and I can date, too. Like the arrowhead. We can take it to a radiocarbon dating lab and, you know, “date” it. ( Pause.) It’s a joke. NATE

Good, you understand.

JIMMY I’m not surprised. In class today, you switched seats. So you could hold hands with Connor. ( Pause.) I wasn’t staring. I dropped one of my flashcards, and when I turned to pick it up, I just noticed. That’s all. NATE He was freaking out about the game on Friday. I was trying to make him feel better. He’s an athlete. He needs a lot of physical contact. JIMMY That’s nice. ( Pause.) So you’re just “hanging out”? NATE Yeah. JIMMY You watch movies together? Get ice cream? Picnic? nate nods his head.

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You make out? nate nods his head. Gross. ( Pause.) What’s it like? NATE

Making out?

JIMMY Yes. NATE With Connor? Or in general? JIMMY Either. Whatever. NATE You ever eat yogurt without a spoon? And just use your tongue? And you’re trying to get to the fruit at the bottom? JIMMY Gross. NATE I didn’t think you’d want to hear about it. JIMMY No. ( Pause.) That’s supposed to be fun? NATE With the right person. JIMMY Eating yogurt. Without a spoon. NATE Yeah.

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JIMMY I would just get a spoon. ( Pause.) Anything else? ( Pause.) Besides making out? NATE You said you didn’t want to hear about it. JIMMY I don’t. ( Pause.) When was the first time you ate his yogurt? NATE He asked me for help studying. French. ( Pause.) You said I’m second best in class. After you. JIMMY Then Connor should have asked me. NATE

But he didn’t.

Pause. JIMMY His house or yours? NATE

His.

JIMMY Was it a nice house? NATE He made me mac and cheese.

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JIMMY That’s not hard. And you studied French? NATE

For the first fifteen minutes.

JIMMY And then? NATE You can guess. JIMMY Did you touch his wiener? ( Pause.) I mean—his penis? NATE Yes. I touched his wiener and his penis. JIMMY Eewww. And then? NATE I gave him a blow job. JIMMY Oral sex! NATE How much detail do you want? JIMMY Whatever you’re comfortable sharing. So you put his—his penis, in your mouth? NATE Yes. JIMMY And then? NATE What do you mean “and then”? JIMMY You put his penis in your mouth and that’s oral sex? NATE There’s work involved, too. That’s why it’s called a “blow job.” Don’t you watch porn?

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JIMMY I prefer historical fiction. ( Pause.) Did you have—anal sex? NATE Jimmy, let me tell you—First, he was inside me. Then I was inside him. And it was like we were the same person but someone better than either of us and it was the most beautiful thing we had ever felt in our lives. Pause. JIMMY That sounds so— ( Pause.) Was it dirty? NATE It’s like an archaeological dig. You just wash up afterwards. ( Pause.) Hey, lacrosse practice is starting. Connor gets annoyed if I’m late. So— ( Referring to the mess on the floor.) You can finish that up? JIMMY Sure. NATE Thanks, buddy. We can hang out again after the game. Okay? JIMMY Yeah.

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nate exits. jimmy collects the rest of the papers from the floor and places them in the wastebasket. He pulls from his pocket a short loop of cord. Dangling at the end is an Indian arrowhead. He looks at the arrowhead, then drops it into the wastebasket. End of scene.

Scene 3 Mr. Green Dreams of the Paris Airport

mr. green is going through passport control at the airport in Paris. He is excited to be here. A passport officer greets him. mr. green and the officer speak in the clear, stilted style of a foreign-language learning tape. OFFICER Good day, sir. Do you speak French? MR. GREEN Yes, I speak French. OFFICER Good. I speak French, too. MR. GREEN Good! Good day, sir. OFFICER Good day. MR. GREEN How are you? OFFICER I am fine. How are you? MR. GREEN

I am fine.

OFFICER Good.

Scene 3

MR. GREEN

23

Good!

OFFICER Welcome to Charles de Gaulle Airport! Welcome to Paris. Welcome to France! MR. GREEN Thank you. You have a lovely country. OFFICER Thank you. What is your name? MR. GREEN My name is Everett Green. OFFICER What a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Green. MR. GREEN Thank you. The same to you. OFFICER This is the passport control. MR. GREEN What a lovely passport control. OFFICER Thank you. The same to you. May I see your passport? MR. GREEN Of course. I always carry my passport. OFFICER What a lovely idea. MR. GREEN Thank you. This is the first time I have traveled outside my country. OFFICER But you always carry your passport? MR. GREEN Yes. It is a lovely idea. OFFICER What is your country? MR. GREEN

My country is the United States of America.

OFFICER What a lovely country.

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MR. GREEN Thank you. The same to you. Now I give you my passport. OFFICER Thank you. What a lovely passport. MR. GREEN Thank you. The same to you. OFFICER What is your age? MR. GREEN I am fifty-four years old. OFFICER What is your occupation? Pause. MR. GREEN My current occupation or former occupation? OFFICER Current occupation. MR. GREEN (Dejected.) Currently, I am unemployed. OFFICER Former occupation? MR. GREEN (Brightly.) I was a teacher of French! OFFICER That is why you speak French! MR. GREEN I have listened to many language tapes.

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OFFICER Because you are a teacher of French, you teach French. MR. GREEN Because you are a passport officer, you look at my passport. OFFICER Welcome to France! MR. GREEN What a lovely country. OFFICER Welcome to Paris! What is the purpose of your visit? Pause. MR. GREEN

I do not know.

OFFICER Is the purpose of your visit for business, or for pleasure? MR. GREEN

I do not know.

OFFICER May I inspect your bag? MR. GREEN

Of course.

OFFICER What a lovely bag! MR. GREEN Thank you. OFFICER There is a gun inside your bag! ( Pause.) Why is there a gun inside your bag? mr. green’s joy evaporates.

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MR. GREEN

Beautiful Province

I do not know.

OFFICER Is the gun for business, or for pleasure? Pause. MR. GREEN It is not for pleasure. I do not feel pleasure. Suddenly the officer sounds like a therapist, one with a calm, soothing voice. OFFICER Why aren’t you feeling pleasure? MR. GREEN

I don’t know.

OFFICER Are you taking your medication? MR. GREEN

No.

OFFICER How come you’re not taking your medication? Mr. GREEN Because I don’t feel pleasure. OFFICER It’s important you take your medication. MR. GREEN But I don’t feel pleasure. OFFICER Three hundred milligrams of the Seroquel. Twenty milligrams of the Lexapro. Thirty milligrams of the Cymbalta. And one milligram of the Klonopin. As needed. MR. GREEN I want to feel pleasure. OFFICER Why is there a gun inside your bag? MR. GREEN Because I had put it there before leaving my house.

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OFFICER And then what happens? mr. green does not move. MR. GREEN

I see myself lifting the gun.

OFFICER And then what happens? MR. GREEN I see myself looking around the room. OFFICER And then what happens? MR. GREEN I see myself loading the gun. I see myself taking a breath. I see myself closing my eyes. And then I pull the trigger. The sound of a door opening. The sound of a gunshot. End of scene.

Scene 4 Jimmy Discovers He’s Not the Last of the Mohicans

Again, we hear the sound of a door opening. Again, we hear the sound of a gunshot. jimmy is in the classroom. He sees mr. green in pain, covering a hand. jimmy gasps and freezes. But then the classroom transforms into a forest. Tribal drum music plays. And jimmy and mr. green begin to speak in the style of Hollywood Indians. MR. GREEN Who comes here? JIMMY It is I, a lone hunter. MR. GREEN Hail, stranger! You have entered my hunting ground. JIMMY I ask your pardon. I follow the trail of the elk.

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MR. GREEN The elk goes not through here. JIMMY Then I will be on my way. ( Pause.) You have injured your hand! MR. GREEN My own prowess at the hunt is not what it was. I misfired my rifle and have suffered its bite. But it is merely a flesh wound. Of little consequence. JIMMY Still, it bleeds. Allow me to wrap it in a bandage. jimmy tends to mr. green’s injured hand. MR. GREEN

I thank you.

JIMMY Of what people are you? Your tongue is— MR. GREEN

Familiar?

JIMMY Yes. MR. GREEN My people once stretched from the banks of the Big River to the shores of the Salty Lake. Back when the Salty Lake gave us its fish, the forest gave us its deer, and the air gave us its birds. We worshipped the Great Spirit and sang songs of triumph. ( Pause.) But one day, from the direction of the Rising Morning, the men called the English landed on our shores. Their hatchets felled our woods and they drove us from our council fires. We were scattered, like deer, among the hills of the Iroquois!

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JIMMY Your tale is as full of woe as mine. For I am the only one left of my nation and that is why I hunt alone. My name is Uncas. And I am a Mohican. MR. GREEN Do I dream? Has the winter turned to spring? We are of the same race. You are not the last! I am Chingachgook, the Chief of the Mohicans. JIMMY Chingachgook? The sage of my people? MR. GREEN

It is I.

jimmy bows to the ground. Rise, my son. For our journey is long and we must not tarry. JIMMY Our journey? MR. GREEN This land is not safe. The English battle with the French and we are caught in the cross fire. We must follow the trail north, to where geese fly. JIMMY Must my people move again? After being reunited? MR. GREEN We shall be safe upon reaching the Canadas. JIMMY The Canadas? Why so? MR. GREEN The settlers there come from the land of France. A gentle people. They will not harm us for they want only the fur of the beaver. ( Pause.) Why do you hesitate? Does some force bind you here?

Scene 4

31

JIMMY A companion. MR. GREEN Who is this companion? JIMMY His name is Hawkeye. His forefathers are of the English. MR. GREEN Trust him not. He will betray you. JIMMY He has already found a squaw. MR. GREEN When a warrior finds a squaw— JIMMY He hunts no longer, for he must tend to his wigwam. MR. GREEN Then come with me. JIMMY The land of the Canadas is far. MR. GREEN I have a steed. JIMMY A steed? MR. GREEN Tied to a chestnut tree around the bend. Uncas, are you willing to undertake such a journey? JIMMY You are the Wise Sage of the Mohicans. I will journey. MR. GREEN Then let us find the steed. JIMMY And ride away from here. End of scene.

Scene 5 Jimmy and Mr. Green Go for a Drive

jimmy and mr. green are in a car. mr. green is driving. jimmy is in the passenger seat, asleep. Then jimmy wakes up. It’s awkward for both of them. MR. GREEN

Hi.

JIMMY Hey. ( Referring to mr. green’s injured hand.) Are you okay to be— MR. GREEN To be what? JIMMY You know. MR. GREEN

I’m fine.

JIMMY Your hand? MR. GREEN

It’s fine.

JIMMY I hope you’re feeling better. MR. GREEN I am. Go back to sleep.

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33

JIMMY I’m not tired anymore. ( Pause. He starts to sing.) Frère Jacques, Frère Jacques, Dormez-vous? Dormez-vous?— MR. GREEN No French. JIMMY You taught us that. MR. GREEN I know. But no French. Please. Pause. JIMMY (Singing.) “Are you sleeping, are you sleeping, Brother John—” MR. GREEN

No singing.

JIMMY I can sing something else. MR. GREEN Thanks for offering, Jimmy. But not now. JIMMY It’s so funny to hear you call me that. MR. GREEN Your name? JIMMY In class you always called me Jacques. MR. GREEN We’re not in class. JIMMY So every time you sang “Frère Jacques,” I imagined you were singing it just for me.

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MR. GREEN The song is called “Frère Jacques.” It’s a coincidence. JIMMY Yes, but you gave me the name Jacques. That’s not a coincidence. MR. GREEN

No.

Pause. JIMMY How was the hospital? MR. GREEN The hospital? ( Pause.) Yes, yes. That hospital. It was fine. JIMMY I should have gone inside. MR. GREEN No! You were right to wait in the car. JIMMY Sorry about falling asleep. MR. GREEN Don’t apologize! You’re the one who saved my life. It should be me thanking you. So thank you. JIMMY Anytime. MR. GREEN There won’t be a next time. JIMMY Of course. ( Pause.) It’s a good thing we didn’t get stopped by the police. MR. GREEN Why’s that?

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35

JIMMY I don’t have my license yet. I’m only fifteen. MR. GREEN Flaunt the rules. You’ll be a happier person. ( Pause.) The bandaging you did was top-notch. It much impressed the hospital staff. JIMMY It’s a requirement for Eagle Scouts. MR. GREEN I didn’t know you were credentialed. JIMMY I bought an old Scout manual from a garage sale. I thought it would be cool to try and earn all the merit badges. You know, for fun. But I never joined the Scouts. I don’t do well in group situations. MR. GREEN But you are excellent one-on-one. JIMMY I don’t know about that. Pause. MR. GREEN I should get you home. Which turn do I take? JIMMY I don’t have to be home right away. ( Pause.) Can we get something to eat? I’m hungry. MR. GREEN

Of course.

( Pause.) It’s late. Won’t your parents be worried?

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JIMMY I don’t live with my parents. I live with my aunt and uncle. And they don’t get worried. I’m not that important. MR. GREEN I’m sure they care about you. JIMMY They don’t bother me. I’m lucky that way. Let’s eat. MR.GREEN So where do you want to go? JIMMY Dairy Queen? MR. GREEN Oh, the Dairy Queen! Little did Edmund Spenser know his Elizabethan epic would lend its name to a chain selling frozen confectionery! JIMMY They also sell hot dogs. MR. GREEN I stand corrected. JIMMY Who’s Edmund Spenser? MR. GREEN An English poet from the sixteenth century. His magnum opus was called The Faerie Queene. Which we Americans have cleverly transmuted into “The Dairy Queen.” JIMMY That’s funny. The Fairie Queene. MR. GREEN A tribute to Queen Elizabeth and the virtues of England! Justice! Temperance! Chastity! Hypocrisy is all it was. I could tell when I read it, when I was your age. That’s when I learned I’d be bored with English literature. ( Pause.) You know what “temperance” means?

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37

JIMMY Not drinking alcohol, right? MR. GREEN And “chastity”? JIMMY Not having sex? MR. GREEN As if human beings were above physical pleasure! As if we were not made of flesh! Life is to be lived! That’s the nonsense of The Faerie Queene. ( Pause.) I’m boring you with this. JIMMY No. I like when you talk about history. MR. GREEN The past! JIMMY Everything seemed simpler then. MR. GREEN The simple past. JIMMY Yes. MR. GREEN French once used to have a Simple Past. My favorite of all the past tenses. JIMMY I didn’t know there was more than one. MR. GREEN Of course. We have more than one relationship to the past! In French, there’s a Simple Past and a Composed Past. The Simple Past was just one word, compact. One word to capture all that’s come before. “I saw.” “I thought.” “I felt.” And you know about the Composed Past. JIMMY Of course! MR. GREEN A form that requires an auxiliary verb, one

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of two, either “to have” or “to be,” depending on the verb. And added to that is the past participle— JIMMY —Which must agree with the subject if the auxiliary is “to be” or is preceded by a direct object. MR. GREEN Simple Past.

Complicated. Hence my longing for the

JIMMY I long for it, too. ( Pause.) Will you be okay? MR. GREEN

I told you. I’m fine.

JIMMY I mean later. When you get home. MR. GREEN That’s funny you mention that. Because I don’t have a home to get to. ( Pause.) You see, earlier this evening I decided to douse my domestic flammables with a sprinkling of gasoline. Afterwards I employed a cigarette lighter, which I had earlier purloined from the teacher’s lounge, to kindle a couch I had never been too fond of. And I stepped out and got into this car and drove back to my classroom. JIMMY You burned down your house? MR. GREEN To be honest, I didn’t think I was going to go back home. JIMMY You burned down your house?

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39

MR. GREEN I have quite a collection— ( Pause.) —A collection of literature spanning centuries of Gallic civilization. But amid the fables of La Fontaine and the essays of Montaigne, among seven volumes of Proust and ninety-five volumes of Balzac, there’s another collection I’ve accumulated over the years. Literature of a less literary, more graphic, and, shall we say, altogether contraband nature. One that would have caused a scandal, if brought to the attention of a local school board, for instance. JIMMY (Suddenly realizing.) Oh. MR. GREEN No, it wasn’t literature. Literature is what the French call “beautiful letters.” Language at its most sublime. My collection fed the darkest part of human desire. A reminder that sometimes what we truly want isn’t necessarily sublime or noble. Or sanctioned by law. Not a bundle one can donate to the local library or share with the book club. Not something to be left behind for curious investigators piecing together my shattered life. The most personal of personal libraries. Now a pile of ash. ( Pause.) So, no, I don’t have a home to get to. Does this change your opinion of me? JIMMY No. MR. GREEN

No?

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JIMMY We’re human beings. Not like the English. I mean, not like the English in The Faerie Queene. MR. GREEN We’re not like the English at all. JIMMY What are you going to do now? MR. GREEN

I don’t know exactly.

JIMMY You have a second chance at life. Was there something you’ve always wanted to do? MR. GREEN Something I’ve always wanted to do? JIMMY Because you can start over. MR. GREEN

I didn’t think of it that way.

( Pause.) I’ve always wanted to travel back in time. To relive the past. When everything was unspoiled and new and still beautiful. JIMMY That’s impossible. MR. GREEN Yes, I know. JIMMY You can travel abroad. MR. GREEN I can travel abroad. For the first time. JIMMY Where? MR. GREEN

France. I’ve never been to France.

JIMMY You can even go to Canada! MR. GREEN

Canada?

Scene 5

41

JIMMY Didn’t you tell us they speak French there? MR. GREEN

Some parts.

JIMMY You can go to Canada. It’s closer. MR. GREEN True. JIMMY You could even drive there. MR. GREEN I have to get you home first. JIMMY I don’t have to be home any time soon. Let’s go. It’ll be fun. MR. GREEN So you’re up for a short trip? JIMMY Sure. MR. GREEN What about Dairy Queen? JIMMY We can skip Dairy Queen. I’m not very hungry. MR. GREEN You sounded hungry. JIMMY I can go on my own. Next time. MR. GREEN Then let’s go to Canada. JIMMY Okay. MR. GREEN The border isn’t very far. JIMMY No, the border isn’t far at all. mr. green continues driving. End of scene.

Scene 6 Jimmy Attends the Steed

jimmy waits in front of the car, alone. An eighteenth-century fur trader approaches. He speaks with stoic fortitude. TRADER Greetings. JIMMY Greetings. Pause. jimmy doesn’t want to talk. TRADER Are you from here? JIMMY No. Pause. TRADER I had presumed you were. JIMMY I am not. TRADER From where do you hail? JIMMY I come from the land of the Iroquois and have

Scene 6

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followed a trail through many shades of forest. I have stopped here this evening to rest. TRADER Oh! Then welcome to this country where the salmon are plenty and the canoes flow gently. I am a trader on a long voyage. I, too, am stopping here for I am weary. ( Pause.) You are journeying alone? You seem a bit youthful for such an enterprise. JIMMY I may have a youthful appearance, but my true age runs many moons. TRADER I see. And you are just standing here out in the starlight, attending to your gentle steed? JIMMY Indeed, she is gentle. But this steed belongs to my voyaging companion. He is inside inquiring about lodging. TRADER A fair place for repose. I have stopped here many a time. JIMMY I thank you for your counsel. TRADER I will be frank with you. I had thought you were out here to sell beaver pelts. (The trader transforms into a drug addict, with a speech that’s jittery and threatening.) You don’t have any on you, do you? JIMMY No, my apologies.

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TRADER Not even a small bag? (Becoming a fur trader again.) I could trade you some good blankets. JIMMY I possess none. TRADER (As the addict.) You happen to know where I could score a bag? I got a lady friend inside. And getting busy is always better with some nice chemical shit, you know what I’m saying? JIMMY That must be a ritual native to the Canadas, for I am not familiar with such a custom. The trader looks around, afraid of being caught. TRADER Anyway, gotta go back to my room. Can’t keep a woman waiting, you know? Her crotch is so wet right now. (Becoming a fur trader again.) May your journeys be fruitful. The trader holds up his hand in farewell. So does jimmy. JIMMY I wish you well. The trader exits. End of scene.

Scene 7 Mr. Green Dreams of Finding a Sidewalk Café

mr. green is dreaming again. He’s strolling. A waiter approaches him. They speak in the register of a higher-level language tape. WAITER A table for one, sir? MR. GREEN A table? WAITER Are you dining with us? MR. GREEN May I? WAITER Of course! MR. GREEN

Now that you mention it, I’m quite hungry.

WAITER Paris is famous for its wide boulevards. Along the boulevards are many sidewalk cafés. mr. green realizes he’s at a café. MR. GREEN And such a charming sidewalk café this is! WAITER At a sidewalk café, you can drink coffee, order a light meal, or read the newspaper.

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MR. GREEN I just might do all three! WAITER Welcome to Charles de Gaulle Airport! Welcome to Paris! Welcome to France! MR. GREEN café.

I’m sorry. I thought this was a sidewalk

WAITER This is a sidewalk café. In Charles de Gaulle Airport! MR. GREEN

I’m still in the airport?

WAITER Why would you want to leave the airport? MR. GREEN To see Paris. I’ve always wanted to see Paris. WAITER But all of Paris is right here! MR. GREEN That’s convenient. WAITER A table for one, sir? MR. GREEN Thank you. mr. green sits down. WAITER This is one of the most famous cafés in Charles de Gaulle Airport. Many artists and writers have come to this café to discuss art and writing. MR. GREEN

How interesting!

WAITER In fact, you are sitting at the table that was the favorite of Marcel Proust. MR. GREEN

I am?

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47

WAITER Why, of course! Would you like an aperitif? MR. GREEN By aperitif, do you mean an alcoholic beverage consumed before a meal? WAITER Yes, an aperitif. MR. GREEN What would you recommend? WAITER A Kir Royal! MR. GREEN A Kir Royal? WAITER A Kir Royal, made with crème de cassis and champagne, is named after Félix Kir, the mayor of Dijon who created the drink. MR. GREEN

Sounds delicious!

WAITER One Kir Royal, coming up! The waiter brings mr. green a glass. mr. green drinks it. MR. GREEN

Mmmm, full-bodied!

WAITER Are you ready to order your light meal? MR. GREEN I sure am! The waiter gives mr. green a menu. MR. GREEN ( Reading the menu.) “Salt.” “Bread.” “Salad.” ( Pause.)

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This is it? Salt? Bread? Salad? This is the Level One menu. Level One vocabulary! WAITER As you turn the pages, the vocabulary will become more advanced. mr. green turns the pages. MR. GREEN

I see.

WAITER The special for today is Braised Rabbit with Mustard. MR. GREEN What’s that like? WAITER A very young, nubile rabbit smothered in a saucy mélange of spicy and creamy. It’s a triumph of earthy sensations. MR. GREEN Sounds interesting. But not rabbit for me. The waiter’s tone becomes increasingly sexual. WAITER Perhaps the lamb cutlet? The leg of a very young, juicy lamb. With a texture that’s firm and velvety. Served on the bone. The bone is quite large and satisfying to the eye. MR. GREEN

No lamb either.

WAITER Stewed veal then? A very young, tender steer on the brink of manhood is kept tightly in a cage, ensuring the flesh remains rich and succulent. The way it melts in your mouth will leave you begging for mercy. MR. GREEN I’m not really sure what I want. WAITER Turn the page.

Scene 7

MR. GREEN

49

Oh.

WAITER You know these dishes? MR. GREEN My students. How interesting they’re appearing in a menu in France. Considering how badly they spoke the language! And their photos are organized by class year. Convenient. Oh, here’s Topher. He pronounces all the consonants though how many times I’ve told him they’re often silent at the end of a word! But his smile is so dazzling, made even more so by the braces he’s had to wear, that I try to be especially patient. And Rohit! Speaks awful French, but beautiful Hindi. In the main office, he speaks it when he calls home to his mother. His eyes sparkle when he does. Hindi and French are related, you know. They’re both Indo-European. And here’s Nate. Nate’s the class comedian. Always ready with a joke. Always ready to put everyone at ease. And Connor, the lacrosse player, with the requisite musculature of the legs. He wore his jersey once to class. Number 35. Nate and Connor. I do believe they’re having sexual intercourse. Not in class, of course. But I imagine they do. I can picture it right now. The waiter begins to sound like a therapist. WAITER How often do you have these fantasies? MR. GREEN

Often.

WAITER While you’re in class? MR. GREEN While I’m in class. While I’m buying groceries. While I’m filling up at the gas station. It’s not a fantasy of course.

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WAITER What do you mean? MR. GREEN Connor and Nate are having sex. It’s not just a fantasy I’ve created. It’s a fact. I know the difference between fantasy and reality. WAITER But you fantasize. MR. GREEN Yes, that’s the word. Let’s be precise with our words. ( Pause.) Look, here’s a picture of me. I look so distinguished, don’t I? And they have no idea. None of the other teachers. Definitely none of the parents. It’s just Mr. Green. French teacher. (He looks down at what he’s holding. It’s no longer a menu but a yearbook.) Is it strange? That I have this yearbook. WAITER Many high school teachers have a copy of their yearbook. MR. GREEN How often do they look through them? Not as often as I do! I have every one since I started teaching. Thirty-one volumes on a shelf. With each one, the picture of Mr. Green grows older and sadder and saggier. ( Pause.) I can’t look at myself anymore. Sorry. (He turns to another page.) Jimmy. He’s the best student. The way he picks up French

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51

is remarkable. At the same time, I believe he’s the most innocent one in the room. WAITER Why do you use the word “innocent”? MR. GREEN

I don’t know.

WAITER Do you think you’re not innocent? MR. GREEN I hate how you judge me. Stop judging me! This is fucking bullshit! I’m going to die eventually, right? We’re all going to die and I’m going to die never having what I want. No one deserves to feel like this. No one deserves to feel this. Well I say, fuck it! Fuck it! WAITER Calm down, Mr. Green. MR. GREEN I will not calm down! I will not! I will do as I please. For once in my life, I will do as I please. I am a fucking human being and I want to feel something real. I fucking deserve to feel something real. Something beautiful. And something real! End of scene.

Scene 8 A Hotel Room at Niagara Falls

A hotel room. jimmy is lying on a bed. mr. green is standing over him, carrying a paper bag. MR. GREEN I’m back. jimmy wakes up. JIMMY Sorry, I didn’t know you’d left. MR. GREEN evening.

I nabbed us some nourishment for the

JIMMY Thanks. But I thought we were going out for dinner. MR. GREEN No, no! Let’s stay in. We’ve had such a long day. You must be exhausted. JIMMY I just took a nap. I got my energy back. If you want to go out. MR. GREEN It’s freezing. JIMMY It’s not that cold.

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53

MR. GREEN After being soaked from the falls? What if you get hypothermia? JIMMY We didn’t get soaked. Since we bought ponchos on the boat. MR. GREEN Your memory is so keen. JIMMY How can I forget? I’ve never done so many things in one day. Hiking a cliff, seeing the falls—both from the American and Canadian side, going to a casino. I’ve never been to a casino! MR. GREEN You quite relished those card games. JIMMY I’ll pay you back. I swear. MR. GREEN Don’t worry about the losses. That comes with games of chance. ( Pause.) So you don’t mind staying in tonight? JIMMY I guess not. What’s for dinner? mr. green pulls out various bottles from the bag along with two paper cups. That looks like alcohol. MR. GREEN We’ll start with an aperitif. That’s a beverage consumed before a meal. JIMMY I don’t drink. MR. GREEN Why not?

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JIMMY I’m still in high school. mr. green laughs. What’s so funny? MR. GREEN You’re not in high school. You’re in Canada. JIMMY That’s right. MR. GREEN

So drink.

JIMMY I don’t like the taste. MR. GREEN

No worries. That’s why—

mr. green pulls out a bottle of soda. —we have this bottle of Dr. Pepper! As a flavor enhancer. What’s your poison? I can add a little rum to your Dr. Pepper. Or the other way around. JIMMY Is that good? MR. GREEN Dr. Pepper with rum? Delicious. You know what that’s called? JIMMY What? MR. GREEN A Pepper Pirate. JIMMY Why is it called that? MR. GREEN Because pirates drink rum. ( Pause.) You’ve never heard of a Pepper Pirate?

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55

JIMMY No. MR. GREEN

So many things you don’t know.

JIMMY What do you call Dr. Pepper with vodka? MR. GREEN A Russian Doctor. JIMMY With tequila? MR. GREEN A Hot Chili Pepper. JIMMY With whiskey? MR. GREEN A Dr. O’Pepper. ( Pause.) Whiskey is Irish. ( With an Irish accent.) O’Pepper? JIMMY I’ll have the Pepper Pirate. mr. green makes two drinks and hands one to jimmy. MR. GREEN Here you go. mr. green drinks, but jimmy just stares at his cup. I wish you’d drink that. ( Pause.) “I wish you would drink” is expressed in the Subjunctive. In French, that’s a complex grammatical form not usually

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introduced until the higher levels. But you’re mature for your age so I’m using the Subjunctive. JIMMY The Subjunctive? MR. GREEN Applied in an expression of desire or doubt. As in, “I desire it if you would drink that.” Much more civilized than a direct command such as “Drink that.” JIMMY It smells gross. MR. GREEN Another sentence in the Subjunctive: “I doubt I would be happy if you don’t drink that.” jimmy drinks. How does it taste? JIMMY Not bad. MR. GREEN Shall I add more Dr. Pepper? JIMMY No, it’s fine. MR. GREEN Then try again. jimmy takes another sip. JIMMY It tastes better the second time. MR. GREEN

Now close your eyes and drink.

JIMMY Okay. jimmy does so. MR. GREEN Listen. Can you hear Niagara Falls roaring outside?

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57

JIMMY I do. MR. GREEN All your senses become sharper with alcohol. JIMMY I thought it was the other way around. MR. GREEN The Dr. Pepper counteracts that. JIMMY Okay. MR. GREEN Heaven must be filled with boys like you. Boys who never have to grow old. Who never get a gray hair, or a creased face, or rough hands. Boys in the flower of their youth. Pause. JIMMY Can you give me another example of the Subjunctive? MR. GREEN The Subjunctive? An expression of desire— or an expression of doubt? JIMMY Desire. MR. GREEN An expression of desire? It won’t be in the Subjunctive. JIMMY That’s okay. MR. GREEN

I love your eyelashes.

JIMMY Sorry? MR. GREEN Your eyelashes. Are unusually long and curl upwards to the sun and frame your eyes in a way that’s so alluring. I love them.

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JIMMY Please don’t. MR. GREEN What? JIMMY Talk about my body. MR. GREEN Why not? JIMMY I don’t like it when people talk about my body. I get self-conscious. MR. GREEN Your body? But it’s beautiful. JIMMY I don’t think so. MR. GREEN

I want to hold you very close.

JIMMY Beautiful isn’t me. MR. GREEN who I am.

I want to kiss you on the lips. And forget

JIMMY Mr. Green? MR. GREEN I want to feel my body against your body and I want it to feel right and I know that will be beautiful. JIMMY Mr. Green? MR. GREEN Yes? JIMMY I can’t. MR. GREEN Why not? JIMMY I don’t think I feel that way. About you. Sorry. End of scene.

Scene 9 Jimmy and Nate at the Creek

jimmy is no longer sitting on the edge of a bed but on the bank of a creek. He is having a memory. nate approaches him. NATE

Hey Jimmy.

JIMMY Hey Nate. You’re late. NATE I know. I guess I took my time. You really like this place don’t you? JIMMY What’s wrong with it? NATE Nothing. Just a weird place to study. JIMMY What’s weird about it? NATE The creek behind the school? JIMMY I like the sound of the water. And the trees. NATE That’s what makes you interesting I guess. JIMMY What does?

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Nothing. Thanks for inviting me.

( Pause.) I found this on my way here. nate gives jimmy a small object. JIMMY What is it? NATE An Indian arrowhead. JIMMY For real? Where’d you find it? NATE Farther down the creek. This place used to be full of Indians. JIMMY Wow. jimmy stares at the arrowhead for a bit. NATE I thought you might like it since you’re in the woods all the time. JIMMY It’s because I don’t like the house I’m in. NATE You just moved here. JIMMY Is it that obvious? NATE It’s kind of a small school. JIMMY I’m from Brooklyn. We had big schools. NATE

So why’d you move?

JIMMY My mom died. She was sick. Cancer.

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61

NATE Sorry. That must have been tough. JIMMY She was in pain for a long time. NATE

I get it.

( Pause.) Then you and your dad moved here? JIMMY No. I’m living with my aunt and uncle now. I never knew my dad. NATE

Oh.

JIMMY All my mom told me about him was that he was a handsome man. NATE I’m sure he was. ( Pause.) Thanks for helping me with French. You’re really good at it. JIMMY No problem. NATE It’s funny you talk a lot in class. Because outside of class, you’re kind of quiet. JIMMY Really? NATE Yes. JIMMY You know why? NATE Why? JIMMY I hate the sound of my voice.

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How’s that possible?

JIMMY I don’t know. I just hate the sound of my voice. But when I speak French in class, it doesn’t sound like me. NATE I like the sound of your voice. JIMMY We should start. Before it gets too dark. NATE Sure. JIMMY Where’s your textbook? Pause. NATE

I forgot it.

JIMMY Nate, I can’t help you study if we don’t have the textbook— nate hands jimmy a book. jimmy flips through it. —The Last of the Mohicans. What’s this? NATE I thought you might like it. It’s one of my favorite books. JIMMY What is it about? NATE It’s about these two guys in Upstate New York. Before the steel mills were here. Back when it was all trees. During the French and Indian War. When England and France were fighting over this land. And these two guys live in the forest. And hunt and hang out and fight bad guys. One’s Mohican, Uncas. And the other guy, Hawkeye, isn’t. Hawkeye’s an explorer but lives in the woods with the Indians. And Uncas is the Last of the Mohicans, the last of

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63

his tribe. So he and Hawkeye speak Mohican to each other. Like it’s their secret language. jimmy reads from the first page of the book. JIMMY “It was a feature peculiar to the colonial wars of North America, that the toils and dangers of the wilderness were to be encountered before the adverse hosts could meet. A wide and apparently an impervious boundary of forests severed the possessions of the hostile provinces of France and England.” (The words become increasingly beautiful to jimmy.) “The hardy colonist, and the trained European who fought at his side, frequently expended months in struggling against the rapids of the streams, or in effecting the rugged passes of the mountains, in quest of an opportunity to exhibit their courage in a more martial conflict. But, emulating the patience and self-denial of the practiced native warriors, they learned to overcome every difficulty; and it would seem that, in time, there was no recess of the woods so dark, nor any secret place so lovely—” nate begins to kiss jimmy on the lips. jimmy accepts it at first, then pushes him away. JIMMY What was that for? NATE

I don’t know.

JIMMY I’m not into that. NATE ( Pause.) Sorry. I better go.

64

JIMMY You forgot your book. NATE You keep it. JIMMY Thanks. I like a good book. nate leaves. End of scene.

Beautiful Province

Scene 10 Driving through Canada, Part I

mr. green and jimmy are in the car. jimmy is driving. mr. green is in the passenger seat, holding a fork to jimmy’s mouth. JIMMY I’m sick of pineapple. mr. green puts the fork away. MR. GREEN You told me you love pineapple. JIMMY I do. But I can’t eat it all the time. MR. GREEN You love pineapple. That’s what you said. You adore it. You revere it. You venerate it. JIMMY I didn’t say that. MR. GREEN

I paraphrase.

JIMMY I said I’d love some pineapple. When you asked me what I wanted.

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MR. GREEN You said it at least twice. I remember. You said— JIMMY Okay. Maybe twice. MR. GREEN You said, “I’d love some pineapple.” Then I asked, “Is pineapple your favorite fruit?” And you said, “Sure is.” So I drove to the largest supermarket in Toronto and bought you pineapple. JIMMY I didn’t know you’d buy out the whole store. How much do you think I could eat? MR. GREEN They’re in cans. They last forever. JIMMY You didn’t have to spend so much. MR. GREEN

Don’t worry about money.

JIMMY Or fill the whole car with pineapple. I was just saying— MR. GREEN That’s Imperfect. JIMMY Sorry? MR. GREEN “I was just saying” is Imperfect. JIMMY How is it imperfect? MR. GREEN In French, “was saying” would be considered the Imperfect Tense. “I was just saying.” JIMMY What’s wrong with it? MR. GREEN An Imperfect Action is one that’s not completed. The open-endedness of “I was saying” as opposed to the finality of “I said.”

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JIMMY What’s a Perfect Action? MR. GREEN One that was finished. Accomplished. Consummated. JIMMY Are you saying we’re living in the Imperfect? MR. GREEN The tense of the incomplete. But you’re still young. You have time. JIMMY You’re not that old. ( Pause.) Being with you is enough. MR. GREEN

I don’t believe it.

JIMMY You don’t have to keep buying me things. ( Pause.) Mr. Green? MR. GREEN Yes? JIMMY Don’t take this the wrong way. But I don’t think you’re well. MR. GREEN

No?

JIMMY Most of the time you’re fine. Then other times, like when you bought all this pineapple, you get very— excited. You keep talking without stopping. As if something’s taken over your mind. MR. GREEN Taken over my mind?

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JIMMY Yes. MR. GREEN It’s because I’ve never felt better. I’ve never felt better in my life! Only one thing could make me feel even better. And you know what that is. JIMMY I like you, I do. It’s just that— MR. GREEN You don’t find me attractive? JIMMY You’re smart. MR. GREEN

I don’t need you to tell me I’m smart.

JIMMY Sorry. Pause. MR. GREEN

In Toronto, I bought something else for you.

mr. green pulls out a book. JIMMY What is it? MR. GREEN

It’s a guidebook!

JIMMY Of what? MR. GREEN

Quebec!

jimmy glances at the cover. JIMMY It’s in French. MR. GREEN It’s a French-speaking province. Why wouldn’t I get the French edition? JIMMY So I could read it?

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MR. GREEN Practice is the key. And once we’re in Quebec, you’ll be fluent in no time. JIMMY Is that where we’re going? MR. GREEN That’s why we’re driving in this direction. JIMMY Of course. MR. GREEN

I think we’ll both be happier in Quebec.

JIMMY You think so? MR. GREEN I’m sure of it. jimmy keeps driving. mr. green smiles. End of Act One.

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Act Two

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Scene 10 Driving through Canada, Part II

jimmy is driving the car. mr. green is reading the Quebec guidebook. A continuation of the last scene. MR. GREEN What do you want to do once we’re there? JIMMY I don’t know. I don’t know much about it. MR. GREEN Let me take a look. (Flipping through the book.) “After Ontario, Quebec is the second-most populous province in Canada.” “In land area, Quebec covers three times the size of France.” Interesting. “Quebec offers a compelling blend of Old World charm and North American modernity.” “Quebec’s Hudson Bay was explored by Henry Hudson, the same man who explored New York’s Hudson River.” JIMMY Can we go to an IHOP? MR. GREEN They don’t have IHOPs there. JIMMY Nate says there’s always an IHOP if you drive far enough.

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MR. GREEN Not there. JIMMY Can you check in the book? mr. green rolls his eyes and does a cursory glance. MR. GREEN

No, sorry. No IHOP.

JIMMY It’s “international.” That’s what the I in IHOP stands for. MR. GREEN Have you seen any IHOPs? JIMMY No. MR. GREEN There you go. JIMMY If it’s only American, how come it’s not called AHOP? I miss pancakes. MR. GREEN You know what tastes wonderful with pancakes? Maple syrup. ( Reading from the book.) “The province of Quebec supplies the world with seventyfive percent of its maple syrup.” Can you believe that? Seventy-five percent! JIMMY I’ve never had the real thing. When we went to IHOP, Nate told me the stuff in the bottles was just corn syrup with artificial flavoring. MR. GREEN You’ll be able to try real maple syrup. Now that we’re here in Quebec. jimmy looks out the window.

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JIMMY We’re in Quebec? Already? MR. GREEN Did you see the sign? It was in French! It said, “Welcome to the Beautiful Province!” That’s what they say. The others are ugly. Saskatchewan? Hideous. New Brunswick? Revolting. JIMMY This is the most beautiful province in Canada? MR. GREEN You can’t tell? JIMMY It looks just like Ontario. MR. GREEN That’s why we have to keep driving. To see the real Quebec. JIMMY Where’s that? MR. GREEN You’ll know it when you see it. mr. green turns on the radio. He turns the dial. All we hear is a low, indistinct mumbling. Listen. Here’s the news. In French. They listen. JIMMY Did I just hear my name? MR. GREEN

No.

JIMMY I just heard my name. On the news. MR. GREEN You must have misheard. Trust me. My French listening comprehension is at a very high level. Pause.

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JIMMY So what are they talking about? MR. GREEN There’s going to be a referendum. Everyone in Quebec is going to vote. JIMMY For what? MR. GREEN Whether or not they’ll be separate. A separate country. JIMMY They can do that? MR. GREEN

Of course.

JIMMY It would be nice to be a separate country. MR. GREEN They don’t have to be with the part of Canada that speaks English. Speaking French is better. If the vote passes, no one in Quebec has to ever speak English again. jimmy sees something in the rearview mirror. JIMMY There’s a police car behind us. He’s flashing his lights. MR. GREEN

I see.

JIMMY Should I stop? MR. GREEN

Do you think you should stop?

JIMMY If I stop, he’ll find out I don’t have a license. He’ll find out you took me across the border. He’ll send me home. And we’d never finish our trip. MR. GREEN

It would be Imperfect.

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Pause. JIMMY He’s passing. We’re not the car he wants. MR. GREEN

Nothing to worry about.

JIMMY Maybe I shouldn’t drive anymore. MR. GREEN When we get to Montreal, we’ll leave the car behind. ( Reading the book.) “Montreal has an excellent underground rail network. It is called the Metro, just like in Paris.” JIMMY Is Montreal a big city? MR. GREEN

It has all kinds of people.

JIMMY All kinds? MR. GREEN All kinds. JIMMY I’d like to see that. MR. GREEN You will. End of scene.

Scene 11 Jimmy Takes a Glance through the Guidebook

A hotel room. jimmy and mr. green are lying down in different parts of the room. mr. green is asleep, snoring, with the guidebook open face down on his chest. jimmy can’t sleep. He sits up. As carefully as possible, he lifts the guidebook up from mr. green’s chest. jimmy pages through the book. He glances at mr. green. He goes back to the guidebook. Something in the book catches his eye. Something he doesn’t think he should know but wants to see for himself. He looks at mr. green. He tries to memorize an address. He puts the guidebook back. He walks out the door. End of scene.

Scene 12 Jimmy Finds the Lost Village of the Mohicans

jimmy is standing on a dark street. Tribal drum music plays. A male stranger approaches him. STRANGER Greetings, stranger. JIMMY Greetings. STRANGER But you are no stranger. For you speak our tongue. JIMMY I do. I am of the Mohican race. My people once stretched from the banks of the Big River to the shores of the Salty Lake. STRANGER And the Salty Lake gave us its fish, the forest gave us its deer, and the air gave us its birds. JIMMY And we worshipped the Great Spirit and sang songs of triumph. STRANGER Welcome home, brother. JIMMY I’ve finally arrived.

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STRANGER Welcome to the Village. The Lost Village of the Mohicans. JIMMY Until I read about it in a book, I did not know such a place existed. STRANGER You have arrived at a favorable time! Tonight, we hold a powwow. The drumming becomes louder and more festive. JIMMY All the warriors here . . . STRANGER Mohicans. JIMMY ( Pointing to a person.) Even him? He doesn’t look Mohican. STRANGER But he is. Do you partake of the peace pipe? JIMMY It has never been offered to me. STRANGER You are not too young for it? JIMMY Me? No! The stranger pulls out a pack of cigarettes, lights one, and offers it to jimmy. jimmy takes it, coughs, and returns it to the stranger. STRANGER What brings you to the Village? JIMMY Just looking, really. STRANGER Just looking.

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JIMMY What’s wrong with that? STRANGER Nothing. JIMMY Good. STRANGER Have you had your manhood ceremony? JIMMY What’s that exactly? STRANGER The ceremony in which you are initiated as an adult member of the tribe. JIMMY I believe not. STRANGER Let us go to my steed and we can perform it there. My steed is tied just around the corner. JIMMY And the powwow? STRANGER The powwow will be here when we return. They find themselves in front of a car. STRANGER Get in. JIMMY Nice steed. They get into the backseat of the car. They stop speaking like Mohicans. STRANGER You just call my car a steed? JIMMY Yes. STRANGER Like a horse? That’s pretty funny. JIMMY When I get nervous, I pretend I’m Uncas.

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STRANGER Who? JIMMY He’s a character from The Last of the Mohicans. STRANGER Isn’t that a children’s book? JIMMY It’s an adventure book. STRANGER You’re having a real adventure now. JIMMY That’s true. STRANGER So why don’t we— The stranger begins to grope jimmy. JIMMY Can we slow down? STRANGER When I get started I don’t like to slow down. JIMMY I thought we would talk first. Get to know each other. STRANGER You don’t come to that club to talk. You come to get fucked. JIMMY You speak English. I didn’t know anyone spoke English here. STRANGER In Montreal? We’re bilingual. We go both ways. So tell me, what are you into? JIMMY What do you mean? STRANGER You’re funny. I mean, how do you like it? JIMMY You’re talking about sex?

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STRANGER You love playing innocent. That’s hot. JIMMY Thanks. STRANGER So you want me to take charge? JIMMY Okay. The stranger begins kissing jimmy’s chest. STRANGER You’re sweaty. JIMMY Sorry. STRANGER I like that. The sweat of youth. It tastes so clean and pure. They should bottle it. Like a drink. JIMMY You know what? I better go. jimmy tries to leave the car, but the stranger pulls him back in. STRANGER Go? We’ve barely begun. JIMMY I should go. STRANGER Don’t think I don’t know who you are. You’re Jimmy. That American kid. You weren’t really abducted, were you? JIMMY What do you mean? STRANGER You ran away with him, didn’t you? Jimmy? The stranger kisses jimmy forcefully. JIMMY How do you know my name?

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STRANGER You’re famous. People in two countries are looking for you. Your picture’s all over the news. The stranger pulls jimmy closer. JIMMY Lemme go! Lemme go! STRANGER I’m gonna put my cock in your mouth. Get it hard and wet. So I can ram it up your tight little hole. You want that? JIMMY Lemme go! mr. green enters. MR. GREEN Jimmy! mr. green pulls out the gun and points it at the stranger. Get out! The stranger exits the car. jimmy remains cowering in the back seat. (Still pointing the gun.) What were you doing? STRANGER We were just talking. MR. GREEN That was more than talking. STRANGER Take my car—money—Just let me go. MR. GREEN You were hurting him. STRANGER Calm down.

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MR. GREEN child.

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He’s just a boy! You monster! An innocent

STRANGER I know. MR. GREEN Because you have an attraction to something, doesn’t mean you have to act on it. Keep it under control. STRANGER Calm down. MR. GREEN Only thinking of yourself. Can’t you see it from his point of view? STRANGER Just calm down— MR. GREEN Don’t just think of yourself. See it from his point of view! The stranger begins to sound like mr. green’s therapist. STRANGER See it from his point of view. Just don’t think of yourself. MR. GREEN (Shaking his head.) No. STRANGER Remember, just because you have an attraction to something, doesn’t mean you have to act on it. You have the ability to control your impulses. MR. GREEN

No.

STRANGER He’s just a child.

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No.

STRANGER You know the difference between right and wrong, Mr. Green. MR. GREEN Shut the fuck up. STRANGER You know the difference between right and wrong. MR. GREEN Shut the fuck up! STRANGER (Snapping back into the stranger.) Don’t shoot! mr. green fires the gun. jimmy watches the stranger fall to the ground. A disembodied voice is heard. STRANGER’S VOICE (In a Mohican tone.) You have lived to see the last days of the Mohicans. From now on, our people will be no more. mr. green finds the stranger’s keys and gets into the front seat of the car. He starts the ignition and begins to drive. MR. GREEN You left the room without telling me where you’d went. That’s what happened. I woke up and you were gone—I woke up and— You didn’t think I’d try to find you? You left the book open to this place. You wanted me to find you, didn’t you? Don’t worry, it’s okay.

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I had to save you. The way you saved me. The way you saved me in the classroom. I had to do it. We share something special, Jimmy. We understand each other. In a way no other people do. We really understand each other. You saved me. You went into the classroom at the right time. The exact, right time. You startled me and that’s why I lived. That’s why I’m still alive! Then you spoke and I looked into your eyes, it was like someone understood me for the first time. Because that’s all anyone could ever want, right? To be understood. You came in and said, “Mr. Green?” And I said, “Look what you made me do!” And you said, “You’re still at school? What are you doing here?” And I thought, “I just tried to kill myself, but you gave me a reason to live.” A reason to live, Jimmy. That’s what you gave me. It’s the most vivid memory I have. This memory we share. You came in and said, “Mr. Green?” And I said, “Look what you made me do!” I’ll never forget. End of scene.

Scene 13 What Really Happened in the Classroom

jimmy has a memory. The sound of a door opening. The sound of a gunshot. Lights up on mr. green seated in the classroom. His left hand is bleeding. jimmy stands above him. JIMMY Mr. Green? MR. GREEN

Look what you made me do!

JIMMY You’re still at school? What are you doing here? MR. GREEN What are you doing here? JIMMY I left something behind. ( Pointing to the wastebasket.) When I was cleaning up. What happened?

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( Pause.) You’re bleeding. MR. GREEN Just a bit. JIMMY You’re bleeding a lot. MR. GREEN Thanks to you, I fucking missed! JIMMY You shot yourself? MR. GREEN Can’t fucking do anything right. I’m still fucking alive! I should be alone. I should be dead! mr. green shakes his left fist. jimmy pulls out a shirt from his backpack and bandages mr. green’s hand. JIMMY No, no, no. We have to get you to the hospital. Mr. Green? Mr. Green. Please? S’il vous plaît? [Please.] Nous parlons français. [Let’s speak French.] Comment allez-vous? [How are you?] Nous parlons français. [Let’s speak French.] Comment allez-vous? [How are you?] Comment vous appelez-vous? [What’s your name?] MR. GREEN You’re asking me my name? JIMMY Oui. MR. GREEN Je m’appelle Everett Green. Et vous? [My name is Everett Green. And you?] JIMMY Je m’appelle Jacques. [My name is Jacques.]

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For a moment, mr. green forgets his pain. MR. GREEN Jacques? Nous parlons français. [Jacques? Let’s speak French.] JIMMY Oui. Nous parlons français. [Yes. Let’s speak French.] MR. GREEN Nous parlons français. [Let’s speak French.] jimmy and mr. green stare at each other. End of scene.

Scene 14 Jimmy Imagines He’s Fluent in French

mr. green has pulled the car over. jimmy snaps out of a daze. JIMMY Nous parlons français. [Let’s speak French.] MR. GREEN (To himself.) Fuck. JIMMY Mr. Green? MR. GREEN (To himself.) I just fucking shot someone. I just fucking killed a man. In the middle of the street, I— And, I’m fucking driving his— Oh my god. And next to me, there’s— JIMMY Nous parlons français. [Let’s speak French.] MR. GREEN Nous parlons français? [Let’s speak French?]

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JIMMY Oui. [Yes.] MR. GREEN

Oui? [Yes?]

JIMMY J’aime parler français. [I like speaking French.] MR. GREEN Moi, j’aime parler français. [Me, I like speaking French.] JIMMY ( Resolutely.) Nous parlons français. [Let’s speak French.] MR. GREEN Nous parlons français! [Let’s speak French!] mr. green and jimmy look at each other. jimmy begins to sing. JIMMY (Singing.) Frère Jacques, Frère Jacques, Dormez-vous? Dormez-vous? Sonnez les matines! Sonnez les matines! Din, dan, don. Din, dan, don. mr. green joins in, singing as a round, and the song gradually transforms into English. JIMMY and MR. GREEN (Singing.) Are you sleeping, are you sleeping, Brother John, Brother John? Morning bells are ringing, morning bells are ringing, Ding, dang, dong! Ding, dang, dong!

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JIMMY We’re singing in French! MR. GREEN We’re singing in French! JIMMY We’re speaking in French. Right now! The words coming out of our mouths— MR. GREEN French! Beautiful, amazing French words. jimmy gets out of the car. JIMMY We’re speaking in French! jimmy looks around to find himself in a forest. Ethereal, angelic music plays. mr. green gets out of the car. jimmy and mr. green begin to point to different things they see. JIMMY Tree! MR. GREEN Leaf! JIMMY Stem! MR. GREEN Branch! JIMMY Trunk! MR. GREEN

Roots!

jimmy looks at the ground. JIMMY Soil! MR. GREEN Tree!

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jimmy picks up a leaf. JIMMY Leaf! jimmy crushes the leaf. MR. GREEN

Dust!

jimmy blows the particles of dust into the air. JIMMY Wind! MR. GREEN Air! JIMMY Wind—Dust—Soil—Roots—Trunk—Branches— Leaves. I understand it now. I can see the world the way you do. How everything is connected. It’s amazing. It’s all connected. The dust of the leaves becomes soil. The soil feeds the roots. The roots touch other roots underground. We are all connected. MR. GREEN And inside all the trees, the sap flows like blood. The same sap. Which becomes— Folksy, down-home music plays. A jolly farmer enters, carrying metal buckets. FARMER Maple syrup! Hello, hello! Welcome to my Maple Grove! You must be here because you love maple syrup! MR. GREEN

Hello!

JIMMY Hello! FARMER It is just you two? Come to watch me tap my trees? MR. GREEN Yes.

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FARMER It’s that time of the year! Sugaring season! Let’s extract some sap and produce some maple syrup! MR. GREEN Well, we’re lucky indeed. FARMER (Indicating jimmy.) He speaks French too? (To jimmy.) Do you speak French? JIMMY Yes! MR. GREEN He just learned! FARMER You understand it very well. JIMMY I do? FARMER Yes. You understand what I’m saying, right? JIMMY Yes! FARMER And I understand what you’re saying. JIMMY I just learned it! FARMER I thought you were a native speaker! One hundred percent pure wool Quebec! JIMMY I’m fluent! FARMER If you were any more Quebec, I’d be forced to cover you with cheese curds and gravy.

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JIMMY I’m fluent! It’s never been so easy to say anything. Test my French! I want to see how good I am. Test me! FARMER Well— MR. GREEN

Start with a tongue twister.

FARMER A tongue twister! “She sells seashells by the seashore.” JIMMY “She sells seashells by the seashore.” MR. GREEN “The sixth sheik’s sheep’s sick.” JIMMY “The sixth sheik’s sheep’s sick.” FARMER “A tutor who tooted the flute,—” MR. GREEN “—tried to tutor two tooters to toot.—” FARMER “—Said the two to the tutor,—” MR. GREEN “—‘Is it harder to toot—” FARMER and MR. GREEN “—Or to tutor two tooters to toot?’ ” JIMMY “A tutor who tooted the flute, Tried to tutor two tooters to toot. Said the two to the tutor, ‘Is it harder to toot, Or to tutor two tooters to toot?’ ” MR. GREEN Now try Palindromes! JIMMY Words or phrases spelled the same forwards and backwards? I can see everything spelled out in front of me. It’s so easy!

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( Pause.) “Level.” “Racecar.” “Sit on a potato pan, Otis!” FARMER Now try a Pun! JIMMY “A sandwich walks into a bar. The bartender tells him, ‘I’m sorry, sir, we don’t serve food here.’ ” MR. GREEN Now try a Limerick! With a Pun! JIMMY “There once was a lass from Madras Who had a magnificent ass, Not rounded and pink, As you’d probably think— But was gray, had long ears, and ate grass.” (Taking a breath.) I am a master of French. Every single thing finally makes sense. MR. GREEN

Remarkable.

FARMER Speaking of eating, you must be starving. JIMMY I am starving. FARMER Let’s bring out the maple syrup. The farmer snaps his fingers. The waiter enters carrying a tray with two wineglasses filled with maple syrup. The farmer gives the glasses to mr. green and jimmy.

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I will now go into my sugar shack. Would you like to join me and witness how I boil tree sap into maple syrup? MR. GREEN Maybe later. FARMER Good eating! The farmer exits. jimmy takes a sip of the maple syrup. JIMMY This is real maple syrup? I’ve never had anything like it. MR. GREEN What does it taste like? JIMMY Just like pineapple. MR. GREEN

Really?

JIMMY Pineapple. But also like ice cream. And hot dogs. Like all my favorite food. mr. green takes a sip. MR. GREEN Orange marmalade. Cinnamon rolls. jimmy takes a sip. JIMMY I detect the pungent aroma of grilled cheese sandwich combined with crisp, caramel apples and notes of peanut brittle, ketchup, and soft pretzels. mr. green takes a sip. MR. GREEN Imparting a toasty quality with earthy scents reminiscent of chocolate cupcakes, eggplant parmesan, and salt and vinegar potato chips. JIMMY Whatever I say, it becomes it. Like magic. And the more I drink, the clearer my head becomes.

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MR. GREEN Then keep drinking! They keep drinking. JIMMY Lemon bars! MR. GREEN Pepperoni pizza! JIMMY Marshmallows! MR. GREEN Oatmeal raisin cookies! JIMMY Mashed potatoes! MR. GREEN

Beef stew!

JIMMY (Alarmed.) Mr. Green? MR. GREEN Yes? JIMMY He’s calling the police. The maple farmer. He’s on the phone. We should go. MR. GREEN

No. We should celebrate.

JIMMY Celebrate? The police are coming. We need to leave. Jazzy music plays. MR. GREEN We can’t leave. There’s a festival! JIMMY A festival? jimmy looks around in awe.

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The seventeenth-century buildings of Quebec City appear around them. MR. GREEN According to the guidebook, there’s always a festival in Quebec City. JIMMY Is that where we are now? MR. GREEN

Look!

JIMMY A castle with towers that glow like candles. A silver cathedral that mirrors the clouds. A gate of stone so high that a giant could pass through. MR. GREEN We’re in Quebec City, the capital of the province. A young Quebec separatist approaches them. He is dressed classy, hip, and modern. SEPARATIST We must have sovereignty! Why sovereignty? It’s a question about the future. About history. About language. A question of having words to say. A question of making ourselves understood. It’s a question of determination. MR. GREEN (To jimmy.) Everything here is in French. No newspapers in English. No television in English. This is where we belong. SEPARATIST Our language is the heart of our society. The music we listen to. The books we read. The dreams we have. JIMMY ( To mr. green.)

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This is where we belong. SEPARATIST Sovereignty means having our own voice. So we can express and defend our ideas. MR. GREEN (To the separatist.) Sovereignty is a yearning we’ve had for so long. JIMMY (To the separatist.) And now we have all we need. Everything we need to be free and to take responsibility for our choices, our actions, and our future. It’s here. SEPARATIST A sovereign Quebec. A free Quebec. MR. GREEN It’s here. JIMMY It’s here. jimmy and mr. green clap their hands in delight. But then, the sound of a police siren. MR. GREEN They’re coming. The separatist looks out in horror. SEPARATIST They’re attacking! JIMMY Who? SEPARATIST The English!

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The police siren turns into the sound of cannon fire. MR. GREEN (Spotting the enemies.) They’ve come back! JIMMY The English? MR. GREEN To fight the Battle of the Plains of Abraham. JIMMY To determine the language that rules North America. MR. GREEN They’re approaching the city gates! SEPARATIST Look, over there! The great French war hero Charles de Gaulle! He’s come to aid us in battle! Charles de gaulle enters. He is dressed in his World War II uniform and sports a moustache. He addresses a crowd. He speaks with a French accent. DE GAULLE An intense emotion fills my heart in seeing in front of me the province of Quebec. A French Quebec! The crowd cheers. In the name of the old country, in the name of France, I salute you. I salute you with all my heart! The crowd cheers. Here tonight I have found myself in an atmosphere of Liberation! It’s in Quebec that I must say—if there is a model

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of modern success, it is yours! I say it is yours and, if I may add, it is ours! The crowd cheers. If you only knew what confidence France, awakened after immense ordeals, has toward you, if you only knew what affection she feels toward the French-speakers of Canada, and if you only knew to what extent she feels dedicated to joining your march forward! All of France knows, sees, hears what is happening here. Long live Quebec! Long live a free Quebec! The crowd cheers wildly. jimmy and mr. green join in. Now men, you must arm yourselves! Prepare for battle! Fight for liberation! de gaulle throws muskets to jimmy and mr. green. SEPARATIST Long live a free Quebec! jimmy, mr. green, the separatist, and de gaulle mount the ramparts. They brace themselves for combat. A great battle is fought. de gaulle is shot and killed. The separatist screams for vengeance. But he, too, is shot and killed. The city is besieged by the enemy. Commotion. Carnage. Casualties. End of scene.

Scene 15 The End of the Road

In the car with mr. green and jimmy. It’s dark out. A light snow falls. mr. green is in the driver’s seat, sitting motionless. jimmy realizes the car has stopped. JIMMY ( Rubbing his eyes.) What happened? It’s snowing. MR. GREEN That’s it. We are out of gas. JIMMY We’re going to a gas station? MR. GREEN We can’t. The car won’t move. JIMMY Why not? MR. GREEN We are out of gas. JIMMY Why didn’t you stop earlier?

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MR. GREEN I couldn’t. Because there hasn’t been a gas station. JIMMY So where are we? MR. GREEN

Look.

jimmy peers out into the darkness. JIMMY The middle of nowhere. ( Pause.) Where are we going? MR. GREEN From Quebec City, I headed north. And I kept driving and driving. This is where one ends up, apparently. Frozen desolation. The blank slate of geography. JIMMY Did you follow the guidebook? jimmy looks in the guidebook, flipping through the pages in the dim light. Do you know where we are? ( Pause.) There are maps in the back. ( Pause.) We have to get help. MR. GREEN

How?

JIMMY Maybe a car will pass by.

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MR. GREEN Look at the snow. Have you seen such beautiful snow? JIMMY Turn on the hazard lights. mr. green doesn’t move. jimmy turns on the hazard lights. They wait. I don’t think a car is coming. MR. GREEN

No.

JIMMY Let me get out. I’ll walk down the road. ( Pause.) Is there a flashlight in here? jimmy looks for a flashlight in the car. I’ll check the trunk. jimmy gets out to check the trunk. It’s cold and frighteningly windy. jimmy feels the chill. He gets back in the car. Nothing. Just cold, cold air. They huddle close, shoulder to shoulder. I shouldn’t have tried to leave the car. I let out the heat. ( Pause.) There’s nothing we can do but wait.

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MR. GREEN

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Let’s wait.

JIMMY I think it stopped snowing. They huddle closer. Suddenly, colorful lights flicker across the sky. jimmy and mr. green look up. MR. GREEN What’s going on? JIMMY The Aurora Borealis. The Northern Lights. MR. GREEN Solar wind colliding with the Earth’s polar atmosphere. Sheets of color against black. JIMMY It’s dancing. jimmy shuffles through the guidebook. JIMMY ( Reading.) “The Inuit—the people who once lived here—believed in a holy dance, that the Northern Lights were the spirits of ancestors—loved ones dancing in the next life.” MR. GREEN When I go, that’s what I want to be. Brushstrokes across the canvas of space. I wouldn’t care that no one could see me. As long as I felt— JIMMY Beautiful? They watch the lights. Mr. Green?

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MR. GREEN Yes? JIMMY I’m ready. MR. GREEN

For what?

JIMMY You know—My first time. Pause. MR. GREEN Are you sure? JIMMY Yes. jimmy and mr. green look at each other. MR. GREEN

It shouldn’t be with me.

mr. green begins to cry. He cries for a bit. Then he regains his composure. I was 14 years old. I was 14. And his name was Andrew. Andrew was— Our birthdays were two weeks apart. I remember because—It was the summer and— One summer, his parents took us to their cabin in the woods. Near this bend, this beautiful bend of the Hudson River. And—and one night Andrew found his father’s whiskey. When his parents were asleep in the next room, we opened it. The bottle. I remember the smell. At first, it was—what’s the word? Repellent. That smell. But we drank. Because it was forbidden. We crawled under his sheets and removed our clothes. His body was so—What’s the word? I forget the word— luminous. It was dark, but I remember every part of his naked body. We touched each other. We explored each other. Like

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voyagers in a New World. I never felt so—so—there’s a word for it. I forget. So—No! The word is just that. I never felt so—happy! And when I woke up—he was gone. Andrew was gone. Run away. Without saying—anything. No final message. No last words. His parents called the police. They combed the woods. Whole teams of searchers. Searching. Two months later, a weekend hunter spotted his body. It was floating in the Hudson River. And after that, I felt like there was nothing left to say. JIMMY I’m so sorry. MR. GREEN Then I was a boy in a classroom opening his first textbook in French. A new language. And it was like opening a magic spell book. One that—one that—Strange words said out loud and I could re-create—a world. A world where everything was labeled. Where nothing was missing. All things had meaning. I would turn the page, and page after page were these words. Why go to France? I didn’t have to leave the country. It could never be as perfect or complete as I’d imagine it. I didn’t need to go anywhere if I had a language that was beautiful, that had everything defined. But one day, when I’m in the middle of class, I see two boys holding hands in the back of the room, happier than I could have ever been. They didn’t need to say a single thing. Their hands were holding each other. And at that moment I had to confront a most awful fact of existence. It’s this—What is it? That time—You see, time—It’s funny—No, it’s cruel—But time can only speed forward. In one direction. It doesn’t go in reverse. So if you miss all your chances to discover happiness—too late. You’re thousands of miles from your point of origin and you’ve forgotten your destination. It’s too late. The distant sound of rotor blades is heard.

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JIMMY Helicopters. They’ve found us. jimmy and mr. green wait. The sound grows louder. Then mr. green pulls out the gun. He gives it to jimmy. What’s this for? MR. GREEN One bullet to my head. That’s all it takes. JIMMY No. MR. GREEN I’ve failed before. I can’t do it myself. JIMMY No, I won’t. MR. GREEN They’ll charge me with kidnapping, with murder, with who knows what. I have nothing to look forward to. JIMMY I can’t. MR. GREEN You have the rest of your life. JIMMY Mr. Green, no. MR. GREEN Please. JIMMY No. mr. green looks at jimmy. MR. GREEN Better to end it now. I’m begging you, Jimmy. Please? jimmy looks at mr. green then lifts the gun. JIMMY No! I can’t.

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MR. GREEN You have to. JIMMY I can’t. My hand is shaking so much. MR. GREEN You have to. Please. JIMMY I can’t. MR. GREEN Please, Jimmy. JIMMY No. MR. GREEN Take me to a better place. jimmy doesn’t know how to respond. He just looks at mr. green. Then the sound of the helicopters becomes deafening. And there is a gunshot. Everything goes black. End of scene.

Scene 16 Dawn on Hudson Bay

All is silent. Early morning light reveals the car surrounded by snow and ice straight to infinity. Henry hudson appears, dressed in the garb of an early seventeenth-century European explorer. He is bearded, unkempt, and ancient. hudson knocks on the car window, waking jimmy. He speaks with an English accent. HUDSON Morning, fellow travelers! JIMMY Hello? HUDSON Cheerio! And your companion, is he awake, too? mr. green wakes up. MR. GREEN I sure am! JIMMY You’re awake! MR. GREEN Why wouldn’t I be? It’s morning!

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jimmy looks around. He is in awe at the beauty of it all. JIMMY Where are we? HUDSON The road ends here. MR. GREEN A literal end of the road. JIMMY Over there! Hudson Bay. Just like the book said! MR. GREEN The furthest edge of the province! HUDSON Look, to the horizon. See the sun reflecting in the water! That’s where we have to go. To the water! jimmy and mr. green get out of the car. MR. GREEN

But the cold!

hudson pulls out fur clothes, sun goggles, and snowshoes. jimmy and mr. green put on the gear. JIMMY Nice! HUDSON Onward. Toward the bay. MR. GREEN Of course. But may I ask: How do we address you? JIMMY Mr. Green, it’s Henry Hudson! HUDSON Lately of the Dutch East India Company. MR. GREEN A pleasure. I’m Everett Green. JIMMY Jacques. Handshakes. They start their trek.

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You were lost near here. I read about it. Your men were exploring the bay. HUDSON In search of the fabled Northwest Passage! A sea route to the Indies, via the Arctic Ocean. JIMMY But it didn’t exist. Surrounded by snow and ice, your homesick crew mutinied. And placed you on a small boat and left you for dead. And your body was never found. hudson nods his head. Good thing we found you. HUDSON I was frozen solid for four hundred years. But I’ve recently thawed out. Climate change. A loud splash, like an iceberg falling into water. Then the monumental heave of tectonic plates shifting and landmasses breaking apart. JIMMY What’s that? HUDSON

It’s happening!

JIMMY Quebec is separating from Canada! It’s separating from the North American landmass! It’s now an island continent! MR. GREEN They voted. It must have passed. The referendum on sovereignty. HUDSON They’re breaking away! A true nation of their own! The will of the people! Well mates, I’m off. An explorer’s job is never done. I’ve got a boat and places to go.

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JIMMY Thank you, Mr. Hudson, for the coats and snowshoes! hudson freezes. A distant voice of a young boy. ANDREW’S VOICE Everett? It’s me. MR. GREEN Andrew? ANDREW’S VOICE It’s me, Everett. It’s me! MR. GREEN

It’s been so long.

ANDREW’S VOICE I know. MR. GREEN I thought you were gone. Forever. ANDREW’S VOICE No, no. Just took a little swim, that’s all. MR. GREEN Why did you go swimming? ANDREW’S VOICE I was so happy. So I took a dip in the Hudson River. But it got cold. The summer turned to winter. And I froze. For forty years! Then the Arctic melted. MR. GREEN And you thawed out! Like Henry Hudson! ( Pause.) Andrew, where are you? I don’t see you. ANDREW’S VOICE Just keep going further, Everett. Just keep going further. I’m so close! The sound of rotors whirring.

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JIMMY What’s that? The sound of helicopters is now directly above them. A spotlight shines on jimmy and mr. green. A voice booms from above. HELICOPTER VOICE Put your hands up! You have nowhere to go. hudson unfreezes. HUDSON You have one option. JIMMY We do? HUDSON

Climb aboard my boat!

hudson climbs aboard a boat. JIMMY That’s right! We can sail away. Through Hudson Bay. MR. GREEN Through the ice? JIMMY Exactly! Past Quebec, across the Arctic Ocean, then out through the Northwest Passage! MR. GREEN Then we can be free. And I can be with Andrew. They’ll never bother us again. ( Pause.) But the Northwest Passage doesn’t exist. It’s a myth. HUDSON Don’t you see? The ice has melted. Now there is a Northwest Passage!

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MR. GREEN There is? JIMMY We came at the right time! HUDSON I’ve undone the mooring. You both have to get on board. Quickly! mr. green jumps into the boat. The boat begins to drift away. jimmy stands still. MR. GREEN Are you coming? JIMMY No, I’m not. MR. GREEN Are you sure? JIMMY Yes, I’ve changed my mind. MR. GREEN

But I’ll miss you.

JIMMY I’ve changed my mind. I don’t want to go. I want to stay. MR. GREEN Take care, Jacques. JIMMY Take care, Mr. Green. MR. GREEN

I won’t forget you.

The boat disappears. jimmy remains. HELICOPTER VOICE Give yourself up! We have you surrounded. jimmy faces the voice. He holds up his hands in surrender.

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Put down the gun. JIMMY I don’t have a gun. HELICOPTER VOICE Put down the gun! JIMMY I told you, I don’t have a gun! HELICOPTER VOICE Put down the gun or we’ll shoot! Suddenly, jimmy realizes he’s holding a gun. He’s horrified. He looks at the gun, then lays it on the ground. He puts his hands back up. Where’s Everett Green? JIMMY Mr. Green? HELICOPTER VOICE Where’s Everett Green? JIMMY He’s gone! HELICOPTER VOICE Where is Everett Green? And the car is right there. With mr. green slumped over in his seat. JIMMY He’s here! (Looking at mr. green.) He’s dead. jimmy looks up at the helicopter. End of scene.

Scene 17 Jimmy and Nate Discuss Jimmy’s Adventure

jimmy is at a Dairy Queen, looking up at a menu behind the counter. nate walks by, eating a Blizzard from a paper cup. nate and jimmy see each other. NATE Jimmy! JIMMY Hey, Nate. NATE Buddy, you’re back! That’s great! What are you doing at Dairy Queen? Can I buy you anything? JIMMY No thanks. I can take care of myself. NATE You know what you want? JIMMY Not yet. Pause. NATE I heard on the news. Like, what the fuck? Sorry I haven’t stopped by. Those news vans parked in front of your house. I thought I’d wait until they left. Your aunt and uncle were so freaked out. Did you see them on TV in Canada? Did he even let you watch TV?

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I still can’t believe it. You were gone so long. The blood in the classroom. They thought maybe it was yours. So what happened to Mr. Green? They never said. I mean, they found him dead in the car. You can tell me, right? If you’re ready. JIMMY You want to know what happened? NATE They said Mr. Green lost his battle with depression. JIMMY That’s the euphemism. NATE Yeah. I’m glad you’re okay. nate embraces jimmy. jimmy reacts as if he’s being hugged by a stranger. JIMMY Thanks. NATE We should hang out. Just not this weekend. I’m going camping with Connor. But maybe next week? We can dig for arrowheads. JIMMY That’s okay. I’m not really into that anymore. NATE Sure. Well, I gotta go. Enjoy Dairy Queen. You figured out what you want? JIMMY Yeah. I’ve made up my mind. NATE Good. I’ll see you around. JIMMY I’ll see you around. nate exits, leaving jimmy by himself. End of play.