Back Roads
A Comedy in One Short Act
by
Michael Thomas Tower
(Performance time: Approximately 15 minutes)
© 1987–2004 Michael Thomas Tower
All Rights Reserved
Queries regarding rights to perform or present this play
in any manner whatsoever should be directed to the author
BR0408a
Synopsis
Anita is fed up with her boring small-town life. So when Harry comes along with the promise to whisk her away to a new and better life, she takes off with him. However, they don't go far before they end up in a seedy motel in the middle of nowhere with seemingly insurmountable problems. Because Harry is long on promises and Anita is long on hope, they keep on looking for an escape -- till they find a way, dubious though it may be, to resume their precarious journey.
Characters
Anita -- Early 20s, give or take a year or two either way.
Harry -- In his 50s, or older.
Time & Place
It's the present -- a hot summer afternoon.
Setting
The action takes place in a seedy motel room in a wide spot in the road somewhere in the Southwest. The room is sparsely and cheaply furnished -- a table, two straight-back chairs, a bed (which may be assumed, for stage purposes), not much more. There is a door that leads to the hot and miserable outside, and a window (which could be on "the fourth wall"). The room is cluttered with clothes, and two suitcases are open -- one old and beat-up, the other not so old, but cheap, and of a very "feminine" color. There's also a clutter of groceries -- perhaps some Cap'n Crunch, peanut butter, bologna, white bread, Miracle Whip, barbecue-flavored potato chips, Oreo Cremes, a milk carton, drink cans -- that kind of stuff. Nail polish, files, clippers and other nail paraphernalia litter a table. There is a Reader's Digest on the table. A radio is playing country music. Maybe an old electric fan strains through its feeble oscillations.
Back Roads
(anita is sitting in a chair at the table, one foot propped up on the other chair, toes separated by wads of tissue, lethargically but meticulously polishing her toenails. she is careful with her fingernails, freshly done with the same bright color. she wears shorts and halter top. Her hair is tied back with a ribbon. An open drink can is close at hand.
(After a few seconds, harry enters. he wears old pants and shirt. he's smeared with dirty grease. he carries a grimy, oily car part of some kind which he drops on the Reader's Digest. As their conversation gets underway, anita will turn the radio off.)
harry
That's th' problem. Right thair!
(Reaches for Anita's drink can)
anita
Gosh darn, Harry, watch out! That's my bran' new Reader's Digest! An' don't touch my soda pop with your filthy hands 'r your dirty lips. Jist take that slimy object thair an' fix it, if that's what's wrong. I'd like very much t'git out-a this ...
(Looking at Reader's Digest to assure correct, though labored, pronunciation)
... on-er-ous ... for-mid-a-ble place.
(harry moves the car part. As he talks, he checks other drink cans until he finds one with something in it, then drinks from that.)
harry
Yeah, so would I. Trouble is, I don't know how t'fix it. I only know that that's what's broke.
anita
I'm awful friggin' s'prised-joo know that much ... if y'do ... which I doubt.
harry
That thang's busted. I c'n tell.
anita
What is it?
harry
I don' know what-cha call it but I know it's sump'n y' gotta have and it's busted. You can take my word for it.
anita
I am stuck in this gosh-awful fudge-forsaken town in th' middle-a nowhir b'cuz I took your word for it. I b'lieved-joo, Harry! Look whir it got me. An' th' really stinkin' part of it is that now I cain't even remember what it was you tol' me that I b'lieved.
harry
One thang I said I'd git-cha out-a Brownfiel'. I did.
anita
You don't hear me utterin' no prayer of thanksgivin', do ya?
harry
Not-chet.
anita
Not ever.
harry
You will.
anita
Unlikely. Fact is, I'm totally ...
(Looks at the Reader's Digest for help)
... dis-com-bob-u-lated.
harry
Give it a chance, Anita. We only been on th' road day'n a half.
anita
You do speak literal, Harry. We drove f'r about two hours, an' then f'r a day and a half we was on th' road -- I mean on th' brother-suckin' road -- pushin' that car, standin' over it, lyin' under it 'r leanin' on it. Not exac'ly my idea-a seein' th' world in style.
harry
We barely gittin' started. Thangs'll git better.
anita
Could they git eny worse, Harry? I'm askin' you and I'm askin' God: Could they git eny worse?
harry
Heck, I've had it worse.
anita
Don't tell me about it.
harry
One time when I was up in th' Gran' Tetons, this here bear bit a hole in my radiator, and I --
anita
(Interrupting)
I said don't tell me about it.
harry
It's kind of a funny story, now that it's all over. See, the bear got drunk on the annie-freeze, an' ... well, I thought-choo could use a little laugh.
anita
I don' wanna laugh, Harry -- 'cuz nothin' funny is hap'nin'! If you got hit by a Peterbilt right now, I'd laugh. That would be funny. ... I'd settle f'r a Dodge Dart. ... F'r Pete's sake, I'd settle f'r a Schwinn if it hit-cha in th' right place!
harry
You're takin' all-a this awful pers'nal, Anita.
anita
Becuz it's hap'nin' t' me, Harry. I take mis'ry real pers'nal when it's me that's miser'ble. If you had good sense, you'd take it pers'nal, too. You cain't even see that all-a this is jist proof that God don't like you -- an' sweet Jessie Lou f'rgive me but he may not like me jis' cuz I'm hangin' out with ya.
harry
But-choo could be happy like me, Anita -- happy cuz I'm with you.
anita
You got less brains than a constipated doo-doo bird. Do you thank I came with you 'cuz you're virile 'r good-looking? Lordy, th' human 'magination cain't even begin t' stretch that far.
harry
"Virile"?
anita
Manly in a forceful way.
harry
Hmm.
anita
I told-'ja I'm studyin' t' improve m' vocal capillary with this here Reader's Digest thang.
harry
(With awe and admiration)
Y're blowin' my mind with all-a that high-falootin' speechifyin'.
anita
I'm gonna move up in this world, Harry. That's what I'm-a gonna do. Enough-a this bein' a dumb-ass.
harry
Oh, you got what it takes t'be a smart-ass, Anita.
(Truly intended as a compliment)
No doubt about it, got it in spades.
anita
An' whilst you'd like me to b'lieve you're next in line to inherit the Hooter's fortune, ain't it actual fact that-choor wallet's about as well endowed as a dead yak's udder?
harry
Well now I never claimed t'be exac'ly wealthy, but I figger you must-a saw m' good side an' my raw expotential to've accepted my invite ...
anita
I accepted your invite 'cuz ya had a car ...
harry
A Mercedes.
anita
... which I thought would git me out-a Brownfield ...
harry
And it did.
anita
... but it don't even run now ...
harry
Not my fault.
anita
... and-ja never even tol' me you stole it!
harry
It's kind-a like ... on loan.
anita
Kind-a like from who?
harry
Kind-a like a friend I ain't met-chet?
anita
Oh, great! -- th' Will Rogers of th' hot wires. You should-a tol' me, Harry.
harry
I cain't read-jur mind. How wuz I t' know you'd be in'e-rested in th' hist'ry of some automobile.
anita
And why'd-joo have-ta take a Mercedes, of all thangs?
harry
You don't understand a man's need f'r a good car, Anita.
anita
Prob'ly 'bout the same as my need f'r a good man. With all due ...
(Checks the Reader's Digest quickly)
def-er-ence, it does appear we both been dumped on by th' universal force-a cow patties.
harry
You shouldn' joke like that. It don't b'come a lady.
anita
If I'd-a wanted to b'come a lady, I'd-a took typin' in high school. An'-joo know I ain't th' jokin' kind, Harry. How meny times you ever seen me laugh?
harry
Jist that once't. I wuz hopin' you wouldn' brang that up ag'in.
anita
I doubt-cha could brang that up ag'in. Looks t'me like you jist might be penile senile.
harry
Jis' 'cuz I struck out first time at bat's no reason t'close th' park.
anita
I called the game, is all.
harry
On account-a weather, you said.
anita
On account I didn' know "weather" you could do it or not.
harry
You'd a give me a little more time, prob'ly could-a been a double header.
anita
Ha! 'S awful hard to score when all you got's one ol' bat-choo wore out hittin' flies with.
harry
You're jist upset over a little car trouble. Look, soon's I git somebidy t'fix this thang then I c'n --
anita
(Interrupting)
Harry, you look. I mean really look ... at me! Now aren't I winsome an' fetchin'? Always have been. Back in high school I was voted homecomin' queen six years runnin'. Except f'r that summer when Della Lee Stahlworthy was courtin' the preacher's boy an b'fore she started showin', I been th' purtiest thang in Brownfiel' m'whole life. Bein' nex' to you persents th' world with a contrast here that boggles th' civilized mind. Enybidy with at least one eyeball a-workin' can f'r sure tell that I'm purty enough t'be in movin' pitchers!
harry
Y'r purty 'nough t'take top honors at a dog show -- but I ain't tryin' t' teach ya new tricks 'r check y' over f'r fleas.
anita
You don't thank I came with ya 'cuz I like ya, do ya?
harry
Then why did-ja?
anita
Out, choo crazy ol' loon. I wanted out-a Brownfiel'.
harry
Me, too. See, we got lots in common.
anita
Oh, sure, you'd been thair for a whole weekend.
harry
A long one 'cause-a th' holiday.
anita
They wadn' no holiday!
harry
They wadn'?
anita
'Course not!
harry
Then what was them fireworks?
anita
That-uz th' Seven-'leven man usin' your ass-rut for a bull's-eye, ya moron!
harry
I thought that was jerky he had in his han'.
anita
Right. Smith an' Wesson's makin' spicy automatic beef sticks now.
(A beat)
So ... here we are. Cain't say God-only-knows-whir, 'cuz this is a dark spot off-a his beaten path whir th' devil comes t' fart.
One TV station comin' in on a lop-sided donkey cart, and all it's got is jist a bunch-a stuff about el camino a Jesús and I awready been saved so many times First Babdis' named their vacation Bible school after me so I don' need none-a that crap, an' one radio station with half a dozen ol' warped vinyls an' not a Wy-nona in the whole wretched lot.
Lordy! Stuck out here in a six-hole motel with a stolen Mercedes out front that's got Nova Scotia license plates and a spleen-green paint job that'd make a hooker puke. Gotta hand it to ya, Harry -- you really know how t'be ... ineffectual an' ... furtive.
harry
Huh?
anita
Them are symanins f'r "Harry"! Jist whir th' hell are we, by th' way? Did-ja find that out?
harry
I was inquirin' about automotive repair, not gee-ogerphy.
anita
Still in Texas, y'reckin? New Mexico maybe? Did-ja see eny Mormons 'r Injins? People speak English? . . . live in igloos? Grass huts? You must-a picked up a clue-a some kind.
harry
What I found out is that the only mechanic 'round here died last month of a foot problem.
anita
What kind-a foot problem?
harry
Couldn' outrun his girlfrien's husban'.
anita
Whir's th' nearest Greyhoun'?
harry
Y'wanna bus 'r a drank?
anita
A dog, dang-it -- that thanks y're a fire hydrant.
harry
Sticks'n stones may break my bones ...
anita
I sure hope so, 'cuz I consider that t'be one-a m' viable options!
harry
Oh, Anita, jes' gimme a chance t'git th' car goin'. I swear, baby, once't we git out-a this place, we'll be right whir --
anita
(Interrupting)
How meny promises you made me, Harry?
harry
A whole lot, I'm proud t'say.
anita
An' jist how meny you thank y're gonna keep?
harry
A good number of'em, I reckin.
anita
An' jist when might that be?
harry
Most eny time, I figger.
anita
No you won't, Harry. I bet-choo never kept a promise in y'r whole dang life.
harry
But I'm really truly planning on it this time! -- 'cuz I really truly care about-choo.
anita
You really truly don't even know me.
harry
I know you want t'do somethin' differ'nt with y'r life -- an' I bet th' two of us t'gether could really do somethin' differ'nt.
anita
Oh, Harry, I'm purty sure I'm not lookin' f'r that kind-a differ'nce.
harry
You might be s'prised, Anita. Jus' maybe I'd be real good f'r you.
anita
Like eatin' bran an' prunes?
harry
Ya gotta take chances, Anita. You of all people ought-a know that. Ya lived in Brownfield-jur whole life an' you been miser'ble y'whole life. Fin'lly you put-choor clothes in a suitcase an' jis' walked out right in the middle-a Wheel-a Fortune. That takes guts, leavin' even 'fore Vanna's got the R's and N's lit up. You're on y'r way, Anita. You know ya cain't go back -- thair's nothing' thair for you. You said-jurself ya cain't even be Cotton Pickin' Queen no more since they made that rule about felonies.
Maybe you can be in movin' pitchers. Sure -- y're purty enough f'r that. Enythang that can be got with looks, you c'n git. But-choo cain't look under jist eny ol' rock an' find somebidy that cares about-choo th' way I do. Sure I like th' way ya look, but I like you, too. Like what-cha are inside. I like y'r spunk an'-jur drive.
anita
Oh, shoot, Harry. That's th' same kind-a oily-tongued jabber-wockin' sweet-talkin' that got me whir I am.
harry
An' jist whir is that?
anita
In th' middle-a nowhir!
harry
But not in th' middle-a Brownfiel'. Right? Tomorro', or th' next day f'r sure, we'll be in th' middle-a somewhir -- somewhir that counts.
anita
Darn you, Harry!
(A beat)
Problem is ... ya may be right. I'm jus' skeered ... awful skeered. And I really don't like ya very much.
harry
But I'm nice to ya, ain't I.
anita
(Genuinely sincerely)
Oh, yeah. Not countin' some-a those old guys I cleaned up at the fun'ral home, you're prob'ly the nicest man I ever actually touched.
harry
So?
anita
(A beat)
So ... okay, we'll git out-a here ... together ... somehow. That takes care-a t'day. But b'fore th' sun sets tomorro', Harry, I want-a see th' city-limit sign of this "somewhir" you keep talkin' about. I'm lookin' f'r neon lights that kaleidoscope into rainbows on streets all a-glitter with a summer night's rain, whir th' laughter of people in love with life shimmers like crystal an' champagne makin' confetti reflections of the flames of the hearth. I wanna wake up ever' mornin' 'cause the sun gently lifts me from the bosomy press of Morpheus' warm breast -- not 'cuz some stupid rooster's crowin' in m' windah while he's-a shittin' on th' sill.
(anita has wandered to the window and is looking out.)
harry
That's the way t'go, sweetheart. You jis' keep on over-talkin' whilst I drive you smack-dab inta th' middle-a Bever-lee Hills. They'll roll out a red rug on Roe-dio Drive an' we'll get-cha spikey heels made out-a string, a silky dress there ain't much of cut up t'here and down t'thair. Y'r hair'll be sparkly, y'r lips'll be sheeny, and y'll smell even bettern than Jergen's lotion. I'll make it all happen. You'll see, baby -- I'll grow on ya.
anita
I'm tryin' t'be hopeful, Harry. Don't start actin' like a yeast infection.
harry
I'll git this thang fixed somehow, an' then we'll --
anita
(Interrupting)
Harry, somethin' funny's goin' on out thair.
harry
Hunh?
anita
That car drove up an' two guys got out. I thank it was guns they took out-a their pockets an' went in th' motel office.
harry
(Goes to window to look for himself)
Enybidy in th' car?
anita
Don't see nobidy, but they left th' motor runnin'.
harry
(A beat; then ... a sudden inspiration)
Le's grab our bags! We're gittin' out-a here!
anita
Harry! Surely you ain't gonna take their car!
(they start throwing clothes and some of the other things into their bags.)
harry
If we're gonna git somewhir, we gotta git goin'. Take our chances. May be Nowhir t'day, baby, but we'll be Somewhir by dawn tomorro'. Noon th' latest. That's a promise. Jis' two 'r three days ... week tops. I am gonna be feral an' votive like nothin' you ever seen.
( they grab their suitcases and head for the door.)
anita
Oh, Harry. You sure about this?
harry
Trust me, sugar. We are on our way!
(he grabs a bag of potato chips and they exit.)
-- End of Play --