LOSING IT

A play in two acts

Author’s note: This is scene 5, the last scene of the first act.  The two characters, long-ago lovers, catch up on their shared loss.

Scene 5

A house in Western Massachusetts

Time: Next day, Sunday.

At Rise: Return to the “blue room” at the top of the house. Late day sun streams through window’s homemade white curtains.

Iris is seated on the bed, leaning against the wall.

Al sits in rocking chair, facing Iris.

 AL

Iris Anne.

IRIS

Alan Ramsdell.

AL

Eye.

IRIS

Al.

AL

Back in the blue.

IRIS

Whiled away alotta hours in here. Ignoring our work, falling asleep on top of each other, wasted hours bullshitting about who knows what, listening to the radio…

AL

My home away from home. Couldn’t believe you had a double bed.

IRIS

They actually let us come up here alone – you, the only boy who met with Mom and Dad’s approval.

AL

A lot of us were sniffing around.

IRIS

You were the one.

AL

We were one.

IRIS

(pause) Does Raquel know?

AL

She does.

IRIS

Everything?

AL

Everything. (pause) Does Nick?

IRIS

(laughing) Awww, act like you don’t know his name. You know you know it.

AL

Nat?

IRIS

Add an e.

AL

Neat?

IRIS

Ha. (pause) We’re gonna let this place go.

AL

Let go?

IRIS

Sell.

AL

Never.

IRIS

Ever.

AL

Why?

 IRIS

It’s haunted.

AL

Could be. What do your sisters think?

IRIS

Frances can’t imagine parting with this place. Lucy’s happy as long as she has a crash pad, and Delia, well…

 AL

Let me guess. She’ll go with the cosmic flow.

IRIS

That would be correct. The past is past. (pause) Just can’t manage it these days.

AL

You love this house.

IRIS

Used to. When it was ours. Not anymore.

AL

I do.

IRIS

You do?

AL

Yeah. The birds. The bees.

IRIS

The bear.

(they both laugh)

AL

Friday night cards, your dad’s blazing fires, summer cookouts. I practically lived here. In this room. (pause) Think your parents ever knew?

IRIS

When I lost it?

AL

We lost it, Eye.  (pause) What about your Mom, think she figured it out?

IRIS

She wasn’t home but, she had an inkling, maybe. She was sorta in denial.

AL

You, being her favorite. (pause) I loved your mom.

IRIS

Miss her. Every day.

AL

She might as well have been my mom.

IRIS

She did let you in. (pause) As did I.

AL

And I, you. (pause) You have her eyes. She gave her irises to her Iris.

IRIS

Funny what we get from our parents.

AL

And don’t get.

IRIS

What color are Camilla’s eyes?

AL

Brown, so far.

IRIS

She didn’t get your blues.

AL

Browns won out.

IRIS

You and me both.

AL

What about you and Nate? Kids?

IRIS

Too late.

Al gets out of the rocking chair and kneels near the bed. He inspects the cracked floor boards and looks up at Iris.

Silence.

AL

Want me to replace these altogether or fill in the cracks?

IRIS

Don’t ask me.  Let’s forget about them.

AL

Anyone ever notice the stains?

IRIS

When? (pause) Then?

AL

Scrubbed the hell out of ‘em.

IRIS

You did. Sort of a blur for me.

AL

Yeah. So much blood.

IRIS

Took a lot out of me.

AL

I was scared for you, Eye.

IRIS

Hard to forget.

AL

Haven’t.

IRIS

Is that why you went to California?

AL

You were finished with me. You toughened up and I fell apart.

IRIS

Yeah, right.

AL

Lotsa years in between. Now, I’m settled — here in our hometown, the one you couldn’t get away from fast enough.

IRIS

But look at you. With smart and beautiful Raquel. And a baby. Frances is still pondering your package.

AL

Excuse me?

IRIS

Not that one. She’s scratching her head over your life, can’t figure out how you’ve come by your happiness. Why you’re not a banker, or something.

AL

Me. A banker?

IRIS

You coulda done anything.

AL

(laughing) I coulda been a contender. (pause) Life intruded.

IRIS

Wish we could have held on, saved the part of us (pause) that died in me.

AL

You and me.

IRIS

It’s still in my head, that time – our fright, how we didn’t really know what was happening until it was upon us.

AL

I used to wake up sorry, thinking, what if things had turned out differently. If only we had known what to do or who to turn to.

IRIS

If anyone. I’ve convinced myself it was a reprieve, a gift — but we lost each other in the aftermath, and in the end.

Long pause.

AL

Ever imagine our kid?

IRIS

Blue eyes.

AL

Right. Recessive. (pause) Wonder what she would have been like.

IRIS

She?

AL

I think so.

IRIS

Funny. Maybe a little goofy?

AL

Definitely. (long pause) Coming up with you, Iris, you saved me.  And now, here, I’m right back in it. With you. Spinning and falling. Falling for you. Falling into you. In our room, the blue room, our corner, our refuge. (pause) It’s a part of me, of us, always.

IRIS

And so is the loss.

 

 

Jane E. Bolster is a writer and a teacher.  Her play, Losing It, was awarded the David Dortort Prize from City College.