Simpatico Page 6

CECILIA: I don’t drink.

  CARTER: No, of course not! You’re a teatotaller.

  CECILIA: I met him at the Safeway. That’s where I work. I was bagging groceries for him and—

  CARTER: Fine! It doesn’t matter where you met him. My point is that he’s nuts! Anyone with half a brain could figure that one out. He’s a lunatic!

  CECILIA: So now you’ve suddenly shifted to insults. Is this a tactic of yours or are you just a grumpy drunk?

  CARTER: I’m not drunk! I’ll let you know when I’m drunk.

  CECILIA: That’s considerate of you.

  CARTER: I just don’t see how it’s possible for a full-grown woman to fall for that kind of lame, adolescent bullshit. I mean I used to pretend I was the Lone Ranger but I grew out of it.

  CECILIA: Did you wear a mask?

  CARTER: What?

  CECILIA: When you were the Lone Ranger—did you wear a mask?

  CARTER: I didn’t say I was the Lone Ranger, I said I was pretending to be the Lone Ranger.

  CECILIA: Did you wear a mask?

  CARTER: No! I didn’t wear a mask! I didn’t need a mask!

  CECILIA: You were that good?

  CARTER: Yes! I was.

  CECILIA: Did you pull the wool over everyone’s eyes?

  CARTER: What?

  CECILIA: You and Vinnie—the “Detective” and the “Lone Ranger”. Did you fool everyone or just each other?

  CARTER: Look—“Miss Priss”—Did he ever talk to you about these photographs? Did he ever mention where he might have hid them?

  CECILIA: I don’t think they were as vital to him as they are to you. The only reason he showed them to me was to share something about his past.

  CARTER: Sure.

  CECILIA: What?

  CARTER: You don’t actually believe that, do you? A man shows you a bunch of obscene pictures in order to “share something about his past”? Are you kidding?

  CECILIA: He showed them to me as examples of his work. That’s all.

  CARTER: Why are you so thick, Cecilia? Missouri’s raised some very shrewd citizens over the decades. Why aren’t you one of them?

  CECILIA: You must be quite ruthless in business too, I suppose.

  CARTER: Oh yeah, I’m a regular cut-throat.

  CARTER’s cellular phone starts buzzing, inside his briefcase. Pause. They both stare at the briefcase.

  CECILIA: Your briefcase is buzzing.

  CARTER stands up and staggers slightly from the booze, then pulls himself together and moves to the briefcase. He stands over it and stares at it. Pause.

  CECILIA: Maybe it’s your buddy.

  CARTER squats down, opens briefcase and answers phone. As he does this, lights come up in a dim pool on SIMMS, seated at his desk, on the phone, stage left. No card.

  CARTER (on phone): Yeah.

  SIMMS (on phone, stage left): We’ve got a little problem here, Carter.

  CARTER: Who is this?

  CARTER stands slowly. CECILIA continues with dishes.

  SIMMS: “Ames”. Your man in the Blue Grass.

  CARTER: What’re you doing calling me here!

  SIMMS: Seems your boy has jumped clean across the line. State lines, to be exact.

  CARTER: What boy? I’ve told you never to try to get ahold of me! How’d you get this number?

  SIMMS: Your boy, “Vincent T. Webb”. He’s peddling some very classified material here. Thought you might be interested.

  CARTER: What material? What’re you talking about? He’s out here! I just saw him!

  SIMMS: Well, he’s got a very convincing double then.

  CARTER: He came to you?

  SIMMS: In the flesh.

  CARTER: What’s he want?

  SIMMS: Three guesses.

  CARTER: Don’t try to pull anything on me, Simms!

  SIMMS: I just thought maybe you’d like to know what’s on the open market. I might be able to sell you a share.

  SIMMS hangs up softly. Lights dim on him. CARTER stays on phone.

  CARTER: SIMMS! HEY! HELLO! SIMMS! (He slams phone back into briefcase.) Lousy, goddamn scummy bastard!

  CARTER moves back to bottle and drinks.

  CECILIA (at sink): Who was it?

  CARTER: Just—a client. Business.

  CECILIA: Simms?

  CARTER: What?

  CECILIA: Who’s Simms?

  CARTER: Why don’t you just leave now. There’s no point in you being here anymore. Vinnie’s not here and—

  CECILIA: He might come back.

  CARTER: He’s not coming back!

  CECILIA: He skipped town?

  CARTER: Yes! That’s exactly what he did. He skipped town.

  CECILIA: Something to do with these photographs?

  CARTER: None of this is any of your business! The only reason you’re here is because I thought you could bring Vinnie out of this slump he was in.

  CECILIA: But now he’s run off.

  CARTER: That’s right.

  CECILIA: With all your dirty pictures.

  CARTER: They’re not my dirty pictures!

  CECILIA: But you want them. You want them very badly.

  CARTER: Will you please leave! Will you go now? Get lost! Vamoose.

  CECILIA: You were so eager to get me here. Now you want me gone. It’s very confusing.

  CARTER moves back to briefcase, takes phone out and dials.

  CARTER (as he deals with phone): I’ve got things to arrange here. I’ve already missed my plane. I’m supposed to be back with my family, getting the kids ready for school. Buying notebooks and lunchpails. Halloween’s coming up. Little League. There’s—

  CARTER listens on phone. As it begins to ring in SIMMS’ office, lights come up softly on SIMMS again, seated at his desk, hovering over his work. SIMMS looks at the phone ringing on his desk but doesn’t answer. He goes back to his work and lets it ring.

  CECILIA: Little League?

  CECILIA finishes dishes, then moves to VINNIE’s dirty laundry and starts gathering it up.

  CECILIA: I thought it was football.

  CARTER (still waiting on phone): Answer the phone, you slimy shithead! ANSWER THE GODDAMN PHONE!!

  CARTER slams the phone back into the briefcase.

  CECILIA (gathering laundry): Nobody home?

  Pause. CARTER watches her.

  CARTER: What’re you doing?

  CECILIA: Laundry.

  CARTER: Leave it? He doesn’t deserve clean laundry. You’re not his maid. Just leave it and get out of here.

  CECILIA: Little League?

  CARTER: What?

  CECILIA: Little League in the Fall?

  CARTER: I was thinking about the future!

  CECILIA: I thought it was football in the Fall.

  CARTER: I am not in the mood for domestic chit-chat about sports right now! Thank you very much. I’m in the midst of a crisis, in case you didn’t notice. Suddenly I’m in the midst of a crisis!

  CECILIA: That’s the thing about crisis.

  CARTER: What?

  CECILIA: It happens suddenly.

  CARTER: Will you please get the hell out of here!

  CECILIA (continuing to gather laundry): I’m waiting for Vinnie.

  CARTER: Vinnie is gone! Understand? He’s double-crossed me. Sold me out! Down the river!

  CECILIA: That’s no way to talk about your best and oldest friend.

  CARTER: Vinnie is a weasel! He’s a low-down, treacherous, diabolical little man. The scum of the earth. He’s systematically trying to crucify me!

  CECILIA: For what?

  CARTER: Exactly! For what? For something deeply buried in his sick imagination. That’s “for what”.

  CECILIA: What could that be?

  CARTER: Excuse me?

  CECILIA: Deeply buried?

  CARTER: I AM TRYING TO THINK HERE! I AM TRYING TO THINK!!

  Pause. CARTER drinks and wanders. CECILIA collects laundry.

  CECILIA: Maybe it’s a woman.

  CARTER: Will yo
u get out! What in the world is the matter with you? You’re like a termite or something, boring away. Why do you persist in staying when you know you’re not welcome?

  CECILIA: You invited me.

  CARTER: I know that!

  CECILIA: Sometimes, if you just lay all your cards on the table, miraculous things begin to occur. Things you could never foresee.

  CARTER: I don’t need any half-baked philosophical notions from you. Things are falling apart! THE SKY IS FALLING! THE SKY IS FALLING!

  Pause. CECILIA stares at him.

  CECILIA: “Chicken Little”, isn’t it?

  CARTER: Look, smart ass!

  CECILIA: You shouldn’t be so hard on Vinnie, just because he’s a detective and you’re not.

  CARTER: He’s not a detective!

  CECILIA: Where is he now?

  CARTER: Kentucky! He’s in Kentucky!

  CECILIA: That was fast.

  CARTER: He couldn’t wait to double-cross me.

  CECILIA: That’s where you’re from.

  CARTER: Brilliant.

  CECILIA: Are you going back out there? Track him down?

  CARTER: I just came from there!

  CECILIA: “What goes around, comes around.” You ever heard that one? A musician I knew used to say that all the time.

  CARTER: I am going to hit you in a minute. I am going to strike you!

  CECILIA: You’re not on the verge of a nervous breakdown, are you, Mr Carter?

  CARTER: I’m being squeezed! Do you know what that’s like? Have you got any idea what that’s like? It’s almost as though he’s planned it or something. Set me up. (Pause.) You’re not in on this with him, are you? The two of you in cahoots?

  CECILIA: Vinnie’s mind doesn’t work like that.

  CARTER: His mind? Now we’re going to talk about his mind? He has no mind! He’s brainless!

  CECILIA: You’re just jealous is all.

  CARTER: Jealous?

  CECILIA: I think so. There’s that tone about it.

  CARTER: A jealous tone.

  CECILIA: Yes.

  CARTER: What is it, exactly, that you find so fascinating about him? It’s unbelievable. I mean, I don’t get it. You’re not a half bad-looking woman, Cecilia.

  CECILIA: Gee, thanks.

  CARTER: No, I mean really—You’re a very attractive young lady, in your own way. It would seem to me that you’d have a lot bigger fish to fry than some down-and-out loser with a detective complex.

  CECILIA: Maybe you should lie down.

  CARTER: I’m not lying down!

  CECILIA: You might be able to think better.

  CARTER: I am not lying down! I’m not playing into your hand. That’s it, isn’t it? You get me into the sack and keep me here, while he goes off to knife me in the back.

  CECILIA: I’m not a slut Mr Carter.

  CARTER: I didn’t say that.

  CECILIA: Those might be the kind of women you’ve dealt with in the past but I’m not one of them.

  CARTER: What women?

  CECILIA: Any woman.

  CARTER: Did Vinnie talk to you about women in the past?

  CECILIA: Don’t get paranoid on me, Mr Carter. Panic is a terrible thing. It’s in the air. But there’s no reason to succumb to it.

  CARTER: I’m not panicked!

  CECILIA: I’ve known panic, myself. You can pick it up from the TV, radio. The telephone. It’s like a disease.

  CARTER: I AM NOT PANICKED!!

  CECILIA: It can take over your whole body. Your mind. This sense of impending doom.

  Pause. He stares at her.

  CARTER: You’ve felt that kind of thing before? Why would you feel something like that? Someone like you. Working in the Safeway. What do you know about “impending doom”? You’ve never—done anything have you? I mean—

  CECILIA: Done anything? Like what?

  CARTER: Nothing.

  CECILIA: No—like what, for instance? I’ve done lots of things you might never suspect me of.

  CARTER: Betrayed—something. Someone.

  CECILIA: Oh—Betrayed. I don’t know about that. Have you?

  CARTER: What?

  CECILIA: Betrayed someone?

  CARTER: No.

  CECILIA: Well, there you are then—both of us must be completely innocent on that score and yet we’ve both felt impending doom. Isn’t that something.

  CARTER: Well, maybe not completely innocent—

  CECILIA: No. Maybe not.

  CARTER: I mean little things, here and there. Things that couldn’t be helped.

  CECILIA: Right.

  CARTER: Things—beyond your control.

  CECILIA: Well, those things you can’t blame yourself for.

  CARTER: No.

  CECILIA: Those things are just—

  CARTER: Accidental, almost.

  CECILIA: That’s right.

  CARTER: Circumstance.

  Pause. CARTER stares at her.

  CARTER: How did he find you exactly? He just strolled into the Safeway one day and there you were—bagging his groceries?

  CECILIA: Coincidence, I guess.

  CARTER: And he never even kissed you? Never tried? I—I don’t understand that.

  CECILIA: He kissed me once.

  Pause.

  CARTER: He did?

  CECILIA: Yes. Just once.

  CARTER: Where?

  CECILIA: In my kitchen.

  CARTER: I mean on your body! Where on your body!

  Pause.

  CECILIA: That’s private, Mr Carter.

  Pause.

  CARTER: I’m going to lay down.

  CECILIA: Yes. I think you should.

  CARTER goes to bed, takes a long drink of whiskey and lies down.

  CARTER: I have no idea what to do now. I can’t go back there, I can’t stay here. I can’t—face it. I can’t—It’s like everything’s going backwards! I came out here to fix things up! Why is he doing this to me?

  CECILIA: Would you like a neck rub?

  CARTER: No! Don’t touch me!

  CECILIA: You should try to rest now.

  CARTER: I am resting! I’m supposed to be home but I’m resting. I’m supposed to be taking care of business! I’m the backbone of the whole operation and I’m laying here in Vinnie’s bed.

  CECILIA: Just breathe softly through your nose. Try to relax.

  CARTER: Don’t tell me how to breathe! I know how to breathe.

  CECILIA: You’ll be all right.

  CARTER: Why did you let him kiss you! Why’d you let him do that?

  CECILIA: Mr Carter—

  She reaches out and touches his back softly. CARTER jerks up and sits on bed.

  CARTER: DON’T TOUCH ME!

  CECILIA backs off.

  CECILIA: All right. Take it easy. I was just going to—

  CARTER: He wants me to crawl, see. That’s what it is. He wants me to suffer. It’s not enough that I pay through the nose—that I cater to each and every little need of his—that I send him T-shirts and socks and see that all his bills are paid—HE WANTS ME TO SUFFER!! It’s a vendetta!

  CARTER takes another belt from the bottle, gets up and starts to move through the room.

  CECILIA: You should really try to calm yourself down. It’s not good for your blood.

  CARTER (on the move): He was the one, see—That’s what everybody forgets. He was the one with the big ideas. Right from the get-go. “All we’ll do is switch a couple a’ racehorses. That’s all.” That’s what he said. “Happens all the time. Nobody’ll know. They’re both bay. Both geldings. Two white socks. Doctor the lip tattoos. They’re identical. Who’s gonna know? Public always loses anyway!” That’s what he said. “The track’s robbing them ten times worse than we are. It’s not like it’s murder or rape or something monumental. It’s nothing monumental! It’s just deception! Just plain old-fashioned deception, that’s all. Happens all the time. It’s going on right now.”

  CECILIA: Mr Carter?

  CARTER (drinks and
rants): We almost pulled it off too. If it hadn’t been for Simms, we woulda pulled it off. Simms could’ve closed one eye and no one would’ve been the wiser. We even offered him a piece of the action but he wouldn’t take it.

  CECILIA: Simms?

  CARTER: Vinnie took the pictures, see. I had nothing to do with it. Vinnie set the whole thing up. Him and—this chippie he hired. It was him who rented the motel room. I told him it was going to backfire on him. Sooner or later. I told him that. Way back when he first got the idea.

  CECILIA: Do you want me to call your wife for you?

  CARTER: My wife?

  CECILIA: Maybe you could talk to her.

  CARTER: My wife?

  Pause.

  CECILIA: Yes. Don’t you want to go back home, Mr Carter?

  Pause. CARTER is good and drunk by now, disoriented. He looks around the room, then stares at the window. He crosses to one of the windows and stares out.

  CECILIA: Is something wrong?

  CARTER opens the window, staring out.

  CECILIA: Mr Carter, you’re starting to scare me. I’d be more than willing to call somebody for you. Is there anybody you would like to talk to?

  CARTER (staring out open window): There’s still a smell about the place. You know? Alfalfa. Dirt. A distant, vague smell of cut alfalfa. I noticed that when we were walking from the car. Did you notice that?

  CECILIA: No. I’m not sure what alfalfa smells like.

  CARTER (stays at window): Amazing. Alfalfa. Smells just like the earth. Me and Vinnie used to buck three wire bales right down the road there where the thrifty is. Right past there. Used to watch a horse named “Swaps” trot down the fence line with his neck bowed and his tail cocked high. You remember Swaps?

  CECILIA: No.

  CARTER: Never heard of Swaps? One tough racehorse. In his day.