Distilled

This play written in response to Haunty's challenge.

Scene: Safe deposit vault in a commercial bank. All scenes occur here.

Characters:

• Rachel Buchanon - a woman about 40 years old dressed in a casual skirt and top
• Timmy Robbins - a man about 60 years old in a blue suit
• Assistant Bank Manager - a woman in her 20's in proper business attire

At beginning of the play, Vault Door is open.

Assistant Bank Manager enters through Vault Door followed by Rachel and Timmy.

Assistant Bank Manager: Right in here... may I see your key?

Tmmy hands her his key.

Assistant Bank Manager: Three thirty-four. (hands Timmy back his key) Okay. (looks around) Over here. (leads the others to the upstage left corner of the vault, looks up and down and finds the right safe deposit box) Here it is. (inserts her key and turns it) Okay, sir. Go ahead and put your key in there and turn it.

Timmy: Okay. (inserts key and turns it. opens door) Here we go.

Assistant Bank Manager: Great. (checks her watch) I have to actually run right now. I am late for a date with my fiance. (points) Outside there are alcoves to the left and right where you can look at your contents. (heads for Vault Door) There is a button on the all above the counter in each alcove. Just push the button and someone will come and let you out.

Rachel: Okay. Thank you.

Exit Assistant Bank Manager through Vault Door.

Timmy: (gazing wistfully after Assistant Bank Manager) Oh, to be young and stupid again.

Rachel: Well, at least you're not young.

Timmy: Ooh, ouch. So mean already. And we just met.

Rachel: Let's get on with it shall we? This place is about to close. I'm sure they would all like to go home more or less on time.

Timmy: Yes, you're probably right. Sorry I was late.

Rachel: Why were you late, anyway? When I spoke to you an hour ago you were just leaving.

Timmy: Yes, but I got lost and, you know, I'm a man -

Rachel: So you couldn't ask for directions.

Timmy: Right. (starts toward Vault Door)

Rachel: So what do you think is in this thing?

Timmy: Damned if I know. I don't even remember anyone named Christopher Arnez.

Rachel: Me neither.

Timmy and Rachel move as if the ground is shaking beneath them. There is a muffled rattling sound as the contents of the safe deposit boxes are shaken.

Rachel: What's happening?

Timmy: Must be a tremor!

Rachel: An earthquake?

Timmy: Right.

Rachel: What's going to happen?

Timmy: You're asking me?

They stagger towards the Vault Door. Vault Door slams shut with a bang. Two more bangs occur as the bolts slam home.

Timmy: Oh, boy.

There are three or four more loud bangs.

Rachel: What was that?

Timmy: Sounded like stuff falling on top of the vault.

Rachel: What stuff? The only thing above the vault is...

Timmy: The building.

Rachel gasps.

Timmy: (sets the box down against the wall) We might be here for a while. Still, maybe just a bit of the ceiling came down. Maybe it's not as bad as all that. (goes to Vault Door, pounds on the door with his fists) Hey!! Hey, out there!!

Rachel pulls out her cell phone. 

Rachel:  No reception. 

Timmy:  Not surprising.  We are inside a thick steel box.  Everyone most likely ran out of the building when it started to shake. Plus, it was closing time. Plus, these locks are time locks and they are probably programmed not to open until morning. I think you and I are roommates for the night, dear.

Rachel: Oh, no. It's my friend's birthday party tonight. My best friend.

Timmy: Did he or she know you were coming here?

Rachel: Not in such specific terms, such as exactly where. I just said I was going to a bank with some guy because some stranger left both of us in his will.

Timmy: It is bizarre.

Rachel: Trés bizarre.

Timmy: What did you say?

Rachel: Trés bizarre. Why do you ask?

Timmy: Somebody always used to leave that as a comment on my blog.

Rachel: Really? I always used to leave that comment on someone's blog because I thought he was Trés bizarre.

Timmy: What a coincidence!

Rachel: I have to say I have chills. Did you used to go by the name of -

Timmy: Tiny Longwood! And you were -

Rachel: Minnie Muff!

They laugh.

Timmy: Those were some wild times, sitting in front of our computers back then. You're from here, aren't you?

Rachel: Yes. And you?

Timmy: I'm from Iowa.

Rachel: Iowa! I always pictured you in New York or Los Angeles!

Timmy: Well, I am nothing like my avatar. You are kind of like yours, though.

Rachel: I'm kind of like Jane Mansfield? In what way?

Timmy:  I don't know.  I just remember how I used to picture you as I read your blog and your comments.  You had mentioned your.. (waves in the general direction of her chest)

Rachel:  (slightly embarrassed) Yes, I remember.  And you always bragged about your - (gestures toward his crotch)

Timmy:  Oh, yes!  But I greatly exaggerated while you, it seems, exaggerated very little. 

Rachel:  Oh, I never took you seriously, although, you know, I kind of thought about it.  (unconsciously licks her lips)

Timmy:  Well, let's see who's responsible for this unlikely reunion! 

Rachel:  Yes, let's. 

Timmy fetches the box and sets it down in the middle of the floor. Timmy and Rachel sit on either side of the box facing audience.

Timmy: (opening lid) Let's see here...

Rachel reaches in and retrieves a large manila envelope. She puts the envelope on her lap, opens it and removes a stack of letter sized papers. She holds up the stack, examining the top sheet with a creased brow.

Timmy: Well?

Rachel: These are blog entries.

Timmy: Whose?

Rachel: Vermin's.

Timmy: Vermin! That crazy bastard! What is the date on them?

Rachel: (examing the papers) This is the last one ... looks like about five years ago. It's on Psyche Site.

Timmy: Psyche Site! I quit that blog almost ten years ago!

Rachel: And I, too, not long after.

Timmy: Is there any explanation?

Rachel: (continuing to read) Wow. We're in this one.

Timmy:  Oh yes?  Let's see...

End scene. Lights out.

Lights.

Timmy and Rachel are lounging against opposite sides of the vault. Each has a share of the stack of papers.

Timmy: (reading aloud from his papers) 'Oh, oh, oh!' said Minnie Muff. 'Tiny Longwood, you're a man who talks softly and carries a huge stick!' Ha ha. That's the end of this one.

Rachel: They all kind of end the same, with Minnie enjoying the long wood, apparently.

Timmy: In one input or another.

Rachel: Timmy!

Timmy: It is amazing how many different ways he finds to state it, though.

Rachel: It really is. Okay, my turn. 'Minnie stood at the open hatchway, the wind ruffling her mons pubis as she awaited her turn at naked skydiving.'

Timmy: Ha ha.

Rachel:  Geez. "The signal came and so did she, as anticipation of free fall always aroused her maddeningly. 'Oh! Oh! Oh! the wind tore away her screams of ecstacy as she plunged down from the blue." It's pornography.

Timmy: It really kind of is - comedic pornography.

Rachel: Next she thinks she sees a utility pole dropping down out of the sky above her, but it turns out to be Tiny Longwood. I've had enough of this. You?

Timmy: Yeah, I'm good. After the third or fourth one they get kind of old. When we get out of here let's make me a copy, though, okay? I would get a chuckle out of it once in a while.

Rachel: You're kind of a dirty old man, aren't you?

Timmy: (shakes his head) No, it's really more nostalgia for me. It's good to hear Vermin's crazy-ass voice again. (put his hand in the pocket of his suit jacket) Say, I just remembered I have half an energy bar. Do you want some?

Rachel: (sliding on her butt over to him) Sure! I'm starving.

Timmy: (breaking off a piece of the energy bar) Here. (he puts the piece in her mouth)

Rachel takes it on her tongue and slowly brings it into her mouth.

Timmy: (chewing) That's a neat trick.

Rachel: (also chewing) Thank you. I thought you might like that. Remember that piece we wrote together, where the man fed the woman a Fig Newton?

Timmy: Yeah?

Rachel: I ruined two pair of panties on that story.

Timmy: (laughs, almost gags on his food) Really?

Rachel: Not one word of a lie. I got so worked up.

Timmy: Weren't you married then?

Rachel: No, I don't think I was still married then. I think I had already divorced Clyde or Earl or whatever the hell his name was.

Timmy: Here, you have a crumb on your lip.

Rachel: (licking her lips) Is it gone?

Timmy: Nope. Here let me get it (leaning close, gently brushes her lower lip with his fingers). There. That's got it.

They linger in close proximity for a moment, then Rachel kisses him lightly on the lips. Timmy hesitates, then kisses her wholeheartedly.

Lights off.

End of scene.

As the lights come up, Timmy and Rachel are on opposite sides of the vault, facing away from each other. Rachel's top is partially unbuttoned.

Rachel: Why didn't you tell me?

Timmy: I'm sorry. I don't know.

Rachel: What do you mean, you don't know? Of course you knew. Tell me!

There is a pause.

Timmy: When I was going to have the surgery, I thought I would commit suicide instead. I couldn't bear the idea. Now, at moments like these, I hate myself for having been so weak, for not having killed myself. So I have gone on...

Rachel: (turning a little toward him) You always did have a streak of self-loathing.

Timmy: Did I? I remember feeling so at peace with myself then. I wrote about a past in which I didn't accept myself and a present in which I felt some frustration..

Rachel: Oh, yeah. What was that about, anyway?

Timmy: (turning toward Rachel) Well, I had quite a thing for you in those days.

Rachel: (turning fully toward Timmy) I thought so!

Timmy: Of course I did. From your communications I could tell you were - are, I should say - a very sexually passionate woman, sexy and clever, and you liked my writing, too!

Rachel: I can't tell you how many times I experienced orgasm as I read your work.

Timmy: Really! What a wonderful compliment! I wish I could do that again.

Rachel: Why couldn't you?

Timmy: (with some heat) Well, for obvious reasons!

Rachel: What obvious reason? Because you can't have sex means you can't imagine sex? How stupid is that?

Timmy: Minnie, part of the reason I was so turned on by you was because I could imagine a reality in which we might actually have sex. Now that is an impossibility.

Rachel: There are many kinds of sex.

Timmy: That's true, but I can't be gratified.

Rachel: No? You mean the only point to sex for you was shooting your stuff?

Timmy: Of course not. There's foreplay, and intimacy...

Rachel: And there's vicarious pleasure.

Timmy: Vicarious?

Rachel: (shrugging) Sure!  It's when you give pleasure to someone you care about.  It's not direct, but woulndn't you agree it is a deep and profound pleaure to give someone else pleasure?

Timmy: Yes, absolutely. Just as when years ago you seemed to enjoy my writing so much, I still get great pleasure just remembering it.

Rachel: Of course. Our deepest pleasures are imaginary. Of course they are. What deeper pleasure could you experience in life than you could imagine?

Timmy: That's true, I think.

Rachel: Of course it's true! Here, I'll prove it to you. Do you remember any of the stuff you wrote back then?

Timmy: I don't know. I guess so.

Rachel: Okay. (lays down with her head in his lap) You recite something from those days recalling the feelings you had for Minnie Muff at the time. Touch me if you like. Go ahead. I'm all yours. I'll bet it's better than sex.

(Lights go out)

Rachel: What happened?

Timmy: Power outage, maybe?

Rachel: Well, that's lucky. This should work even better in the dark. Go ahead.

Emergency lights come on, very dim. Rachel and Timmy can only be seen in silhouette.

Rachel: That's still okay. Very romantic. Go ahead.

Timmy: (hesitantly) Okay. (clears throat)

Redolent

sweet sticky

ooze you bring

a deluge

to my mouth

and my words

are drowned I

want to smear

you over

my face like

jelly, roll

in you un

til I'm all

syrupy

glistening ... (touches Rachel)

Rachel: Mmmmmm. Don't be shy.

Sound of clothes rustling. Timmy and Rachel move slightly.

Timmy: (a little excited) You bring me on a love journey, to visit places of exquisite joy -

Rachel: (breathy) Yes!

Timmy: Smoothness of surrender, open to my question, answering in ecstacy -

Rachel: Mmmmm. Yes. Mmmmm.

Timmy: - and emboldened I venture -

Rachel: Oh!

Timmy: - to where I always wanted to be.

Rachel: Ooooohhh.

Lights out.

End of scene.

As the lights come up, Rachel is lying parallel to the audience so that she appears in silhouette. She lies between Timmy, who lies beside her, and the audience. Rachel sits up abruptly.

Rachel: What time is it?

Timmy: (groggily, checking his watch) A little after eight in the morning. (he yawns)

They stand. 

Rachel: Boy I have to pee.

Timmy: Well, I think I would expect them any minute.

Rachel: (dancing around a little) I mean I really really have to pee.

Timmy: Well, um ...

Rachel: (dancing from one foot to the other) Did you enjoy last night?

Timmy: What? Oh, yes! Very much. (moves to embrace Rachel) It was one of the loveliest times I ever had.

Rachel: That was a lovely poem.

Timmy: I wrote it for you, you know.

Rachel: (desperately) I am really going to have to go.

There is a banging sound from the Vault Door, then the door opens.

Enter Assistant Bank Manager.

Assistant Bank Manager: You poor things! stuck here all night. Come on out of there.

Rachel: Where's the bathroom?

Assistant Bank Manager: I'll take you there right now. Come on.

Exit Assistant Bank Manager and Rachel by Vault Door. Timmy stands alone in the vault, yawning and looking around. He smiles, picks up Vermin's blogs, and exits through Vault Door.

The End.