Lost and Found: A Play in One Act

Years ago, when I wrote Voices, I spent a fair bit of time sitting back, watching the conversations in my mind, playing the scenes out as though they were movies.  Some of them weren't terribly clear, but others, like Lost and Found lent themselves very well to the exercise.  Since one of my goals this year was to write a one act, I decided to try translating it into a script.  This is my first attempt at this sort of thing, so be gentle, and feel free to contact me about auditions.  ::Grins::

Lost and Found

by

Zach Hebert

CHARACTERS

PAUL                         A tall, broad man in his early 30s.  He wears a jacket and his clothes identify him as blue-collar.

ANDY                        Paul’s younger brother, smaller and thinner, he has an air of serenity.  He wears light, non-descript clothing.

SETTING

A recessed storefront, along a quiet urban street. 

TIME

Early in the morning, around 3 A.M.

ACT I

(PAUL is tucked inside a recessed storefront, leaning heavily against the wall for support.  The door is non-descript and worn.  It’s the middle of the night and  no one passes on the sidewalk, nor are any cars in the nearby street.  The only illumination is a single streetlight, just outside the doorway.)

PAUL

Fuck. 

(PAUL leans his head back against the wall, wincing a little.)

PAUL (cont.)

(Despondently) Fuck!

ANDY

(Offstage, calmly) You shouldn’t be so loud out here.  People are trying to sleep.

(ANDY approaches slowly from stage right, but stops just outside the glow of the light, the shadows covering his identity.  PAUL squints into the darkness, covering his eyes to block out the streetlight’s glare.)

PAUL

(Sighing) Listen, man, just keep walking, alright?  I ain’t got money and I ain’t in the mood for any shit.

(ANDY hesitates a moment, then steps into the light, grinning, and slides down the wall opposite PAUL.)

ANDY

(Still grinning) I’m just saying, mom raised you better than that.

PAUL

(Obviously relieved) Shit, Andy.  You almost gave me a heart attack.

(PAUL begins to laugh out loud, but is cut short by a pained wince.  ANDY leans forward, his grin replaced by concern.)

ANDY

You alright?

(PAUL waves him off, still chuckling a little.)

PAUL

Yeah, nah, I’m fine.

(PAUL looks up at the ceiling, laying his hands in his lap.)

PAUL (cont.)

Been awhile.

ANDY

(Grinning again) It’s not like you were calling either, you know.  You wouldn’t happen to have a smoke, would you?

PAUL

(Scoffing) Not for you.  I raised you better than that.

(PAUL reaches into his pants pocket, wincing again, and pulls out a small pouch of tobacco and rolling papers.  He begins to roll a cigarette.  ANDY rolls his eyes and laughs.)

ANDY

Fucking hypocrite.

PAUL

(In a very somber tone, without looking up) That’s me.  (BEAT)  And watch your mouth.

(They sit in silence until PAUL has sprinkled the tobacco and begins to roll up the cigarette.)

PAUL

(Resignation and a little hesitation) So this is it?

ANDY

Didn’t figure on this, huh?

(PAUL snorts and licks the cigarette, then begins to twist on the ends, still focusing on it.)

PAUL

(Shaking his head) No kidding. 

(PAUL puts the cigarette in his mouth, talking around it as he fishes a zippo out of his pocket.)

PAUL (cont.)

What the hell is this city coming to when a guy can’t even mail a fucking letter?

(PAUL chuckles and shrugs a little as he lights he cigarette.  He lingers a beat, studying ANDY’s face in the light of the zippo.  ANDY wears a serious, almost sad expression on his face.)

PAUL

(Shrugging defensively, then, with false bravado) Oh, come on, it ain’t that bad, is it?

                        (PAUL closes the zippo and shakes his head.)

ANDY

So who were you sending a letter to at two in the morning, anyhow?

(PAUL takes a deep drag before answering, exhaling and watching the smoke in the air.)

PAUL

Do we really have to talk about this right now?

(PAUL looks at ANDY, whose expression remains the same, his eyes never wavering, until PAUL continues, annoyed.)

PAUL (cont.)

Fine.  Fuck.  You can be annoying as hell, you know that?

(PAUL takes another long drag, scratching at his head, stalling and not making eye contact.)

PAUL (cont.)

(Quietly) It was Strickner’s old lady.  I didn’t…I mean, I needed to say some things.

                        (ANDY remains silent as PAUL grows more agitated.)

PAUL (cont.)

Would you say something?  We couldn’t shut you up growing up and now…

                        (PAUL takes another drag, pausing melodramatically, then grins, wide-eyed.)

PAUL (cont.)

You’re silent as the grave.

                        (PAUL laughs abruptly and ANDY’s eyes narrow.)

ANDY

You’re real cute, Paul.

PAUL

You kiddin’ me?  I’m fucking adorable.

(PAUL laughs a little more, then takes one last drag before tossing the roach into the darkness, where it can be seen glowing.  PAUL watches it and ANDY watches PAUL.)

ANDY

What’d you tell her?

                        (PAUL lifts his legs up to his chest, resting his arms on his knees.)

PAUL

I told her…I just said some shit that I needed to say.

ANDY

(Hesitantly) You weren’t mean, were you?

PAUL

Of course not! (Regains control, but still obviously agitated) What the fuck, Andy?  Why should you fucking care, after what they did to you, anyway?

ANDY

(Calmly) She didn’t do anything to me.

PAUL

Jesus, Andy!  Don’t you ever get mad?  I don’t even remember you crying when you were a baby!

ANDY

(Patiently) She didn’t do anything to me, Paulie.

PAUL

(Very softly) I know.

(PAUL looks back down at the ember still glowing, and watches as it flares, then finally dies out.)

ANDY

You wanna talk about it?

                        (PAUL throws his arms up.)

PAUL

(Exasperated and vaguely bitter)  I damn well do not want to talk about it, Andy!  I’ve spent the better part of the last couple years actively not talking about it!

(PAUL stews a minute, going back to staring at the spot where the ember had been, then grudgingly goes on.)

PAUL (cont.)

I didn’t mean it to happen.

ANDY

(Shaking his head) I don’t think that matters.

PAUL

(Through clenched teeth) I know that, Andy.  That’s why I don’t want to talk about it.

            (PAUL continues to stare at the ember as ANDY says nothing.  Eventually, PAUL takes

a deep, shaky breath and looks down at his hands, his shoulders slumped.)

PAUL (cont.)

(Shaking head) I was just so…fucking…angry.  I mean, what the fuck right did they have?

ANDY

(No accusation) What right did you have?

PAUL

No shit.  The irony, as you used to say, is not lost on me here.  Hence the letter.

ANDY

What happened, Paulie?

PAUL

I honestly don’t know.  They told me you’d been turned down for the surgery and…I thought I was gonna die, right there.  I just kept thinking…I just kept thinking how pissed mom and pop would be that I was letting you…”

                        (PAUL stopped, unable to continue.)

ANDY

You didn’t let me, Paulie.  It was just time.  I was okay with it.

PAUL

Yeah, somehow that didn’t make it better.  I wasn’t okay with it.  I just looked down at that form, saw his name, and wanted him to hurt the way I did.

ANDY

Two wrongs…

PAUL

Yeah, yeah, I know.  I was the one taught you that shit.

ANDY

It’s not shit, though.  You know that.

PAUL

I had pop’s old gun.  I wanted Strickner to explain it to me, to make my understand why he did it.

ANDY

You know what he did it.  We didn’t have insurance to cover that kind of thing.  They did what they could and…

                        (PAUL interrupts in a rage and ANDY visibly flinches.)

PAUL

No!  No, they didn’t!  They let you fucking die!

            (Pause)

I let you die…

ANDY

It wasn’t your call, Paulie.

PAUL

(Stares down at his hands intently) Yeah, but when I went out there with pop’s .38, that…that was, wasn’t it?  That was my call.

                        (PAUL looks up at ANDY, pain on his face.)

PAUL (cont.)

You disappointed in me?

ANDY

Yeah, a little.  You should’ve talked to me about it.

PAUL

You were sick.  I wasn’t going to stick that on you, Andy.  It was hard enough as it was.

                        (Both sit in silence for a beat.)

ANDY

So, the letter.  You were, what, apologizing for shooting her husband?

PAUL

It sounds stupid when you say it like that.  But sort of.  I didn’t mean for it to go down like it did.  I just found ‘em out there, walking in the park like nothing was going on, like he hadn’t just that day killed somebody’s brother, and it just…I just lost it.

                        (PAUL leans his head back on the wall, beginning to cry.)

PAUL (cont.)

I still wake up at night and hear those shots.  I just remember yelling and waving the gun, then I’m clicking the hammer on nothing and the old man is down, the lady’s screaming and…I just take off.  When I got back to the hospital, they said you were gone and I just walked out, never looked back and…

(PAUL lifts his hands in a sort of “here we are” gesture.  ANDY stands up and stares down the street, hands in his pockets.)

ANDY

Jesus, Paulie.

            (Pause)

Jesus…

                        (PAUL looks down again at the ground near his feet.)

PAUL

(Mumbling) I know.  And you want to know the really fucked up part?

(PAUL reaches into his jacket and pulls out a thick, sealed envelope, stained with blood.)

PAUL (cont.)

I didn’t even get to mail the fucking thing.

                        (PAUL stares at the envelope, then looks up at ANDY, fear plain on his face.)

PAUL (cont.)

I’m scared as hell, Andy.

(ANDY looks down at PAUL, sad but smiling a little, then holds out a hand to PAUL.)

ANDY

I know that, too, Paulie.  But what kind of world would it be if everything hinged on one thing, huh?

(PAUL hesitates, then reaches out and takes ANDY’s hand.  ANDY helps PAUL up, revealing that the wall behind him and the back of his jacket are covered in blood.  They stare at each other as a soft light appears off stage right.  As they start to walk toward it, PAUL puts his arm around ANDY and ANDY gives him an elbow in the ribs and pushes him off, both of them laughing, the routine obviously familiar, as they exit stage right.)