Notes:

Someone reading this may not be able to readily figure out if this is a script for stage or screen.  The ambiguity is intentional. I’m not sure for which either, but I do know that as a stage play it has some potential for video-backgrounds and some keen interpretation to make several stage designers busy and happy.  From a screenplay perspective it’s probably a little light on direction (and devoid of camera angle notations) but serviceable. The bottom line is, the act is ready to translate should any interested parties require one way or the other.  It’s a one-act play no matter how you slice it.  It’s just heavy on the “play” part.  Enjoy.

The Funeral Scene

A play in one act

By D. Browell

CAST:

J

TOM

TONY
ERIC’S VOICE

Beach Visitors: B, LAURA, KASSI, MIKE, GAYLE & RICK

JOY

Scene 1

(Exterior& interior 2:00 PM, partly cloudy. Images of TOM’s 1985 Buick Park Ave- Electra Model, dark green inside and out are visible. The car is wedged in between a wooden sand dune wall and the side of a two story beach house. The shot and/or set roams away, inside presumably through windows, to reveal a recently partied in and dirty kitchen, a few hungover houseguests, and finally revealing a very serious looking gent, TOM, jogging down the stairs in the background- heading toward the camera and speaking on a cell phone. He's dressed sloppily in Umbro shorts and a concert shirt that he struggles to get on as he talks. TOM moves into the foreground and out the glass door the audience watches inside the house from and with a sharp turn we follow as he makes the corner, hops on the hood of the car, and keeps talking, head low. As he has this conversation, he at some point hops off and searches inside the car for a pair of shoes to put on his sock-less feet. He is quick, stern, and curt with the voice on the other end, which tries to relay more information as he asks.)

TOM: So, tell me again. Exactly what happened and when. Right. Go.

(Pause as TOM listens)

This happened Sunday. It's Monday- Who else knows?  Should I call anyone should-

(Pause as TOM listens)

Okay. Damn. So who's going? Who's going to go? I mean I know it's in the boonies, but c'mon.

(Pause as TOM listens)

What? You have got to be kidding me. Someone should go. One of us should go. Huh? One of us, from the wedding. You have got to be kidding me- Eric, listen to me, if no one shows up- This is his fucking wife Eric.

(Pause as TOM listens)

Eric, look I'm in the middle of a vacation here and I'm thinking of going- I'm supposed to be at work in two days and I'm obviously going to have to break- what? Screw that, and screw your days off. This is his wife Eric! I'm going from here. Yeah. J probably won't, this is his house anyway and he's host I don't blame him right now, and he didn't know them well anyway. What? Yes you did.

(Pause as TOM listens, brushes back his hair)

I'm going. Do you have anyone else to call? No. No? You mean waited to- never mind. Never mind. Has Tony called anyone? His Mom called you right? Yeah, well I've been here. Yeah I know I just got this phone no-one has the number but you and like-

(Pause as TOM listens)

Fuck. T's wife. Fucking Sandy. I can't believe it.

(Pause. TOM sets the phone down on the car's hood. ERIC'S VOICE can be heard.)

ERIC'S VOICE: Tom.  Tom. Tell him. Tell him we're all really sorry. Tell him I send- I dunno. Tell him-

(TOM picks the phone back up and listens)

TOM: Yeah. I will. I gotta look for a map. Get my head straight. I'll leave in like an hour. Do me a favor and tell T's Mom I'm coming okay? I'll drive all day. Tell T to look for me. I'll call him on his phone when I get close for directions and...and all that. Yeah, give him this number.

(Pause as TOM listens)

Thanks. See ya.

(Pause as TOM lingers, then punches the number to shut the phone off. TOM tosses the phone in the car. The camera pulls back and reveals a crying LAURA and an eavesdropping KASSI, listening in from around the corner. They round the corner and KASSI embraces TOM who somewhat embraces back. B and J join them outside. Fade.)

Scene 2

(Exterior House/Drive: Same place, same pan from inside to out, cutting to the side of the car and revealing B, J, LAURA, KASSI, MIKE, GAYLE, and RICK wishing TOM goodbye in various hungover but serious states. The scene is quiet but with some banter. TOM emerges with one last garbage bag of clothes which he tosses into the backseat of the Buick. J hands TOM a map tabbed with post-it notes which TOM puts in the front seat. TOM retrieves a dirty shot glass and 1/4 full Tequila bottle from the back seat, but stops before totally getting out and retrieves a pair of purple panties which he stuffs quickly under his shirt.)

TOM: J, here's that bottle I uh- borrowed. And one of your shot glasses... Sorry.

(TOM tries to distract J with the bottle and glass and retrieves the panties to shove them in LAURA's hand clasped round. LAURA is surprised but understands and stashes them, embarrassingly but quickly.)

J: Don't worry man. I marked your map for you- just call him when you get past 460, he might have a quicker way.

TOM: Thanks. I appreciate it.

J: I wish I could go. Tell him-

TOM: I will man.

(TOM and J hug. The males exchange a handshake/half-hug with TOM, the females a full hug. Some goodbyes are said. TOM gets in the car, but not without scraping the door on one side. Car starts quickly, and TOM starts to back out. In some fashion to be determined by the set and surroundings, TOM has a difficult time backing out and/or getting past a parked car in the way, resulting in a many-point turn which never succeeds despite how close TOM almost gets. If such a maneuver cannot be displayed, say on stage, then replace with a sound effect of the car hitting a garbage receptacle of some kind.  In any event, the tension of goodbye is destroyed by the goofy predicament and TOM is stuck. B, J, LAURA, KASSI, MIKE, GAYLE, and RICK run down the driveway and have to help him get out. Possible fade, or show TOM escape with their help. TOM drives away. Fade.)

Scene 3

(Interior of the car: see car description.  Driving from VA Beach to Rocky Mount, VA- use background where applicable, preferably around Appomattox mark. Scene features TOM VOICE OVER and actual voice.  One take if possible.  Find pause and stage direction.)

TOM VOICE OVER:  Shit.  So far to go.  At least it's a nice day.

T's wife.  None of us knew her that well.  Just her friends and family will be there.  I bet I'm the only one there for T.  Shit, what does he do now?  What does anyone do now?  When you- when you have just settled down in the idea of settling down.  When the cement just dried.  When the runway just got clear for the rest of your life and all of a sudden your plane- shit.   That's a horrible analogy.  Horrible.  Just despicable, TOM.

TOM:  Bum-badumdum (Along with music of some sort.)

TOM V.O.:  What do you do with pictures of these people?  If you lose something- someone like that it null and voids every single picture taken in like the last year.  Like a reversing.  Like you can somehow rewind and pretend it all never happened I know that's not an option.  But what do you do?  And we left him so hard.  Things are different even when he was the same when you're married- how do you just re-enter circles again?  You make so many new friends based on the fact that there were two of you and now everything will be pity and jarred fruits or “welcome to the neighborhood” style baked goods.  Just trying to slow down the world so much, so hard...just hoping if you stick that foot into the ground hard enough that you can make the merry-go round go the other direction.  But you're more likely to get your foot cut off.  Fuck.  What does T do now?   So many of us had an image of him.  Drying dishes.  Going to work.  A car for a commute.  Coming home.  Kissing Sandra hello.  Going to sleep after a movie, sitting up in bed with a book- sure it was more domestic than any of us wanted to be but our whole framework of what T had become was built around the fact that we conceded the war of attention to his wife.  It was a willful and happy concession because we were there, the ceremony and all and even if it was a war before it was a reckoning we would let quietly and happily go and now the dust settles and we were ready to move on, and we look back and T is going to be there, trying to catch up, trying to still be alive after half of him died and how do we let him back in?  Not "if" but "how" and how does he even get the strength to run back to anyone?  Like parents we'd let him go with a birthday card and a few visits but were sad and happy that he'd found his way.  How can he move back into his friends’ hearts?

(Pause)

He's still here.  Still here for me.  I mean, I just know that me going is fucking self righteous in a way, but I know I'm the only one on the road right now.  I'm not doing it for any points.  There's lots of people that feel guilty right now but won't set their hands on the wheel to go to him.  It'd be halfway disingenuous anyway, they don't know him any more.  They certainly didn't know Sandy.  But T.  Shit.  He's going to be a wreck.  Man.

(Silence as TOM drives.  Eventually he scribbles an idea on a corner of the map.  3 words.  Frustrated by his writing and the awkwardness of the action, TOM pulls into a gas station.  Fade.)

Scene 4

(Fade in.  Clip of a package of post-it notes in the passenger seat.  one graces the dashboard with some words scribbled on it.)

TOM V.O.:  One of these days.  One.  One of these days I'm going to write the great American comic book.  The great American story.  The great, great- oh who knows.  But I want this out of my head.  One idea at a time if I have to.

(Sigh)

Okay-- Sandy, Sandy.  Gotta try and remember things about her.  Gonna look bad if I can't remember anything.  Ok.  First thing:  maiden name.  Damn.  Ascot?  No.  Hamil- no.  Damn.  Where'd she go to school?  Pennsylvania somewhere.  Close enough.  From....From... From Virginia, South West.  Okay, know that much.  Gonna be a shitload of her family there at the funeral.

(Pause)

TOM:  Am I ready for a funeral?

TOM V.O.:  Shit I hardly even have any nice clothes.  Emergency khakis in the trunk.  Shirts in there too.  Might need to borrow some socks.  Well, and shoes.  (Pause)  I can't get that picture out of my head.  With her behind him, head kinda poking out from his shoulders, arms around him.  God that's gotta hurt.  I have a copy of that picture.  Just the thought that he's not going to feel her skin again like that- never going to have those arms around.  I mean, I'm focusing on a picture but there must have been thousands of those moments and now he's down to zero.  No one takes pictures of any fights they had, so only the happy moments will be what he sees on people's walls, in scrapbooks and albums.  I'd avoid all photographic matter if I were him.  God I just don't want to believe it.  This trip seems like such fiction.  I don't feel like I'm skipping work, and I'm not yet.  I won't have to call in 'til Wednesday.

(Pause)

God, what am I doing?  I'm the last fucking guy that needs to be on the road right now.  I’m that guy.  That guy with no serious girlfriend that can go anywhere people invite him.  That guy who's always getting the short end of the relationship stick.  But I put myself there.  I can't keep a plant living much less a relationship.  But they keep ruining on my watch, not because of me.  Like plants that scoot themselves to the edge of windowsills so they'll fall over.  I'm the owner that comes home to find the pot broken, the whole thing ruined without my input, and I can't put anything back together.  Suddenly, it's all un-repairable.  Girls just dump me like I don't mind it.  So I shrug, smile, say I'd like to just be friends too, or "take a break" and it's all gone with one fake smile.  One last kick to my own ass and it's all over.  I didn't even know it was ending usually.  Every one else basks in girlfriends and relationships no one understands and I get to sit there still cracking jokes, trying to be more relevant than ever during meals where I'm a third or fifth leg. (Sigh. Expletive.)  Then I'm the guy running off to go relate to T when his wife dies.  While everyone else lets themselves seem wrapped up in mourning on their end.

(Pause.  Looking around.)

But I like driving.  Gives me time to think.

(Fade.)

Scene 6

(Exterior of the house at night, with driveway where the TOM’s car would be sitting.  TONY and TOM emerge from around the back, whispering.  TONY and TOM sit holding beers either on the front steps of the house if it is near the car or on the actual back of the car.  TONY and TOM talk relatively normal volume there.)

TONY: Still have that old car, eh?

TOM: Yep, yep.

(Pause.)

TONY: Huh.

TOM:  Hey, finish that story you were telling before we woke the house up...

(TOM laughs, gestures to the house.)

TONY: Yeah, yeah.  Will do.  So, we're at this little cafe place, and I mean this is like, Florence, Italy, so we don't know anyone, or the language or anything...

TOM: Yeah- there you're just "those damn foreigners"

TONY:  Exactly, and so we walk out after eating and we must get like two feet away from the door and like a flock, and I mean like a damn bucket- just a huge heap of bird shit just comes dumping down-

(TONY and TOM laugh.)

TOM: Oh Jesus...

TONY: -and we are just soaked in this white crap and just miserable and covered and it's not like we're anywhere near our hotel or had a spare shirt on us...so we ended up buying some absolutely cheesy and waaay overpriced shirts at this place down the block, and then "humbly" walk right back in that cafe and ask to use the bathroom, covered in bird shit, so we could change clothes...Oh God, we were so embarrassed, I thought Sandy was ready to escape from the whole country, she was just devastated...

(TONY and TOM laugh, but it subsides into a pause.  TONY stares off into the distance, and after a swig of beer, starts to tear up.)

TOM: I...I bet...

(Pause.)

TONY: God Tom.  I just can't imagine telling that story without her laughing right along or trying to interrupt.  I just can't even.  I mean its hard to even remember her face for a second and not think she's just inside sleeping and we're just bullshitting outside like old times...

TOM: I know man.  Or, I don't but I...I'm just glad I can be here.

(TOM makes some move to let TONY know he's trying to console HIM)

TONY: I know.  I know man.  But what am I supposed to do?  What the fuck am I supposed to do man?  She is my whole life.  I felt okay not talking to anyone, not calling any friends, not e-mailing everyone I knew every free moment, not hanging out with buddies because every single day I thought of and saw her.  And so I didn't.

(Pause.  TONY is as teared up as appropriate here.)

TONY: I didn't.  I didn't keep all that much in touch and look around, who’s here?  Where the hell is everyone?

TOM: T, they send they're best-

TONY: Don't bullshit me Tom.  Now I'm- I'm not blaming them.  I'm just.  I'm just trying to figure it out. Talk it out.  I know it's my doing.  Our doing.  It's my fucking fault.  But it means...  I don't know.

TOM: Dude...  Seriously...  Everyone understands.  Everyone is thinking of you right now, and I know you don't want that either but everyone knew- knows how important she is...was to you...  shit...

(Pause.)

TONY: (Sigh.)  I just.  I just.

(Pause.)

TOM: I know.

TONY: I mean look at me.  Tomorrow we bury my wife.  My wife!  I don't even feel old enough to be married!  Not really!  And now I've lost some...I've lost.  Game fucking over.  And you are the only groomsman here.  Every person who stood up with me at that altar isn't here.  I appreciate that you came out.  And you have no idea how much that really means to me-

TOM: I know

TONY: No, no you don't Tom.  I mean, you are really good at this- and I love you for it, but you really don't have any idea how it feels that just a couple of years after the biggest event of my life, not one of the men I chose to stand up there with me, not one is here...not one!  I mean they were picked especially to represent my life up until that point and they aren't even in the picture now.  I mean, even if they did show up tomorrow I don't know how I'd feel.  It'd be like seeing some Uncle that doesn't mean crap anymore.  And its not their fault, we just grew apart.  But man.  If I had to pick the same number of people I don't know who I'd pick.  Seriously, and with all due respect man.  If I had to pick 20 people in the last three years that meant something to me; really, really tangible- and I don't just mean basic buddies man, and like I said, I mean no disrespect man but just to pick someone that knew everything about me, just who I was- am, now, at this moment...I could only name one:  Sandy.  I just.  I just don't know.  I mean.  I mean they say that getting married is this big life-altering experience, and it was I guess.  I'd never been married before so that was certainly a change (TONY tries to be funny but TOM doesn't laugh.).  But I mean this.  This moment that happened when I get a fucking phone call...when I have to even think about what it's like to roll over and she's not there, and it's not because one of us is out of town.  Or maybe it is, and it's just that one of us is out of town permanently.  God.   I mean that was life-altering.  That phone call.  That truly changed my life in one second more than any ceremony.  Because we'd made each-other our lives.  We were totally comfortable, fights and any friction aside, with knowing that if, if the phone rings that, that one of us will pick it up.  That- that someone gets the mail.  That if one of us is sick- in the middle of the night- that the other one hears it and wakes up.  If one of us is sad, the other one is too and we might not even know why yet.  If...if one of you looks a little long in the mirror, thinking...maybe worried about something...the other one thinks or cares enough to ask "what's wrong" or something... (TONY builds up to this moment.)  Who's here to ask me what's wrong, man?  Who- Who's here to find out if I'm okay?  Who...Who do I ask?  Who do I watch over now? Who am I supposed to be now? She isn't here... I just. I really don't know what to do.  I just don't know if they, those guys that stood up with me, know... that when they hear that Sandy's gone…that they know what that means.  That they realize that if she's gone then that means I'm gone.  Not that I wish I was dead- not like that- just that...That... Where's my life?  My wife...My life...

(Pause.)

TOM: I.  I uh.  Um.  T, I am truly...truly sorry.

(TONY looks directly at TOM.  TONY is trying to compose himself.)

TONY: I know you are.  But I still don't know what to do.

(Pause.)

TOM: T.  C'mere.

(TOM hugs TONY from their sitting position.  TONY and TOM finish, and TONY jokes.)

TONY:  Fag.

(TONY and TOM laugh.)

TOM:  Fag.

TONY: Man, you wouldn't believe... I haven't gotten any sleep these last couple of days... I'm just not used to sleeping alone yet.

TOM:  I bet.

TONY: Would you...would you sleep with me tonight man?

(TOM is stunned by the question, but considering the scenario he hardly can turn TONY down.)

TOM: I...I, sure...sure man whatever you need-

TONY: I'm kidding Tom.

(TONY laughs and TOM does after a pause of making sure TONY is indeed, kidding.)

TOM: Asshole.

TONY:  Jerk. Man, things haven't changed. You'll sleep with anything...

(TOM is laughing, happy that the mood is lighter.)

TOM:  God, can I go home now?  You done?  My car's right there.

(TONY finally does get serious.)

TONY:  No man... And I really can't tell you how good it is to talk to you.  I mean Sandy's family and my family are great and all but...

TOM:  I bet they are man, but... I understand.  I'm just glad I could be here.

TONY:  Me too man.  Me too.

(Pause.)

TOM:  Let's go get some sleep.  Big day  tomorrow.

TONY:  Yeah.  Yeah it is.

(TONY and TOM rise and exit the way they came silently.  Fade.)

Scene 7

(Ext. Funeral scene.   Circled shots of a funeral scene from the perspective of the cars parked alongside the curved, awkward roads that snake through the cemetery.  Family and a priest is seen gathering, but we can only really make out TOM, JOY and a weeping TONY.  Any music fades with the screen black.)

continued in part two