Cast: |
CASSIE, a human woman |
FRANCIS, a human man, her husband |
|
TWEEL, an alien in human form |
Time: the present
Setting: A suburban living room
At rise: CASSIE and FRANCIS are absorbed in the Sunday newspaper. They are not paying particularly close attention to one another.
CASSIE: CRISPR.
FRANCIS: Say again?
CASSIE: CRISPR, CRISPR! Clustered regularly interspaced short palindromic repeats.
FRANCIS: Umm … translation, please?
She doesn’t answer, and he gives her an annoyed stare.
Cass? Mind trying again in English?
CASSIE: (absently) It can cut DNA. Edit your genome.
FRANCIS: Have you got the Arts section? I’ll trade you for Travel.
They exchange sections. Both read for a few beats.
FRANCIS: Hey, do you want to see Captain Marvel? Missed it in the theaters but that new Disney Channel I signed up for has it.
CASSIE: Do we really have to watch another of your superhero movies?
FRANCIS: This one is a girl. (catches himself) A woman. She’s Brie Larson.
CASSIE: The one from Room?
FRANCIS: Huh, forgot she was in that. All that arty claustrophobia creeped me out. No, I was thinking of her in the Kong movie. Skull Island. So? Supposed to be good. Captain Marvel.
CASSIE: (absently) Okay.
FRANCIS: Okay yes? Or okay you’re acknowledging my existence? (beat) Cassie!
CASSIE: We could be superheroes, you know.
FRANCIS is confused.
CASSIE: With CRISPR. (impatiently) I’m reading about CRISPR.
FRANCIS: Superheroes. Sounds like a lot of work. Not for the likes of us.
CASSIE: Says here some guy in China made a couple of super-smart twins. Used CRISPR to mess with their genes.
FRANCIS: Takeaway for dinner and movie night. Thai? Indian?
CASSIE: We could be super-smart. Or maybe super-strong.
FRANCIS: Super-invisible?
CASSIE: I don’t think there’s a gene for that. What’s to stop them from creating a whole new species of super-people? You know, like to replace us?
FRANCIS: Nothing we can do about that. (opens his cell phone) There’s that new place, Shalimar Something.
CASSIE: Tweel is late. (looks out the window) She’s an alien. They’re never late.
FRANCIS: She was late two times ago.
CASSIE: Where did you put the Travel section? (finds it, reads) Oh, no. Vail is closing.
FRANCIS: I read that. Okay, Captain Marvel got 78 percent on Rotten Tomatoes. Hello? 78 percent?
CASSIE: I mean, where are we going to ski in the Rockies now?
FRANCIS: They say Canada still gets snow. Whistler? Banff?
CASSIE: But I love Colorado.
FRANCIS: That’s global warming for you. Good thing we didn’t buy that condo you wanted.
CASSIE: I feel sorry for the Fullers.
FRANCIS: The Fullers?
CASSIE: They owned that B&B where we stayed that time.
FRANCIS: Oh, you mean Alice and what’s-his-name. Wait, their last name was Fuller?
CASSIE: His name was Harlan. Of course you remember her and not him.
FRANCIS: Well, he didn’t make those great blueberry scones.
CASSIE: Scones. ( sarcastically) Oh, is that what you were always staring at?
FRANCIS: (changing the subject) You’re right, they probably are screwed. It’s too bad. Whatever is that town going to do without skiing?
CASSIE: Or all the spruces. The poor blue spruces.
FRANCIS: What’s wrong with the spruces again?
CASSIE: Pine beetles. Some invader bug that drinks all the sap. Moved north with the warm winters. Remember how Harlan was showing us the white scale on the needles?
FRANCIS: I thought those were pine trees.
CASSIE: Blue spruce. I’m pretty sure.
FRANCIS: They’ll figure it out. Not our problem.
CASSIE: (looks out window) There she is. (beat) Oh my god, she must have been next door with the Navarros. No way they’re her kind of people.
FRANCIS: You think they were giving her a hard time? Jose can be pretty stubborn.
CASSIE: But Gail Navarro is the one with the big mouth. Like when she tried to get us to sign that petition about the bees and pesticides.
FRANCIS: Troublemakers, both of them.
CASSIE: And the way their kids are always shrieking. Tweel wouldn’t stand still for that.
FRANCIS: No alien would!
CASSIE: (still looking out the window) She’s coming up the driveway. Get the door before she knocks, would you, Francis? Show her that at least we know what’s what.
FRANCIS: On it!
He exits. CASSIE straightens up the newspaper, then stands beside her chair, waiting. FRANCIS and TWEEL enter together. FRANCIS is walking backward, TWEEL walking forward. Her hand rests on his forehead. She backs him to his chair and gives a push. He sits. TWEEL turns to CASSIE, places her hand on her forehead, pushes. CASSIE sits. They smile and nod at each other for reassurance.
CASSIE: You’re looking well, Tweel. Isn’t she, Francis?
FRANCIS: Very human. I’d be fooled. Anyone would.
TWEEL ignores them, sorts through the paper, scanning headlines, then dropping sections on the floor. She continues while they try to make conversation.
CASSIE: You’re doing something different with your hair. I like it. Makes you look …
FRANCIS: (interrupts) … distinguished.
CASSIE: … younger.
FRANCIS: Young but distinguished. And perceptive. Can we get you something? What have we got, Cass?
CASSIE: Coke, Coke Zero, Cherry Coke Zero, for sure. Tea and coffee. Stoned Wheat Thins. (to FRANCIS) Is there any of that dill Havarti left?
FRANCIS: I’ll check.
He starts to get up but TWEEL stares him back down. TWEEL discards the last of the newspaper, takes the translator out of her pocket, holds it in front of CASSIE and turns it on. TWEEL utters one short inarticulate questioning bark in her language. CASSIE understands this.
CASSIE: Why? Is there something wrong with reading the paper?
FRANCIS: We like to stay informed.
TWEEL aims the translator at FRANCIS and gives two questioning barks, which FRANCIS understands.
FRANCIS: Because … umm … I don’t know. So we can see what’s coming. Maybe take action. (looks to CASSIE for support) But appropriate action.
TWEEL gives an unhappy bark.
CASSIE: Or not!
TWEEL brings the translator very close to CASSIE, who tries to back away. TWEEL barks twice.
CASSIE: Sorry, I didn’t understand that one. You want me to be more what? More peaceful?
TWEEL gives one negative bark.
CASSIE: Satisfied?
FRANCIS: Oh, Cassie’s satisfied. We both live very satisfied lives.
TWEEL gives another negative bark.
CASSIE: Complacent! (understanding) She wants me … us … to be more complacent.
FRANCIS: Oh sure. We can do that. Easy enough—we’re halfway there already.
TWEEL crumples some newspaper, drops it on CASSIE’s lap and barks twice.
CASSIE: (as if repeating what TWEEL said) There’s nothing we can do about it. Right.
TWEEL aims the translator at FRANCIS and barks.
FRANCIS: (as if repeating what TWEEL said) Because they’ll figure it out. (confused) Who’ll figure what out?
TWEEL gives a bark.
CASSIE: Someone. Someone who isn’t us will figure whatever needs figuring out … out.
FRANCIS: Got it. (nods uncertainly) Makes sense.
TWEEL turns the translator off, pockets it and exits, paying no attention to them as they say goodbye.
CASSIE: Thank you!
FRANCIS: See you next time!
They sit for a moment looking at each other.
FRANCIS: Did we do okay?
CASSIE: I don’t know. I hope so.
FRANCIS: Do you think it’s okay to stand up?
CASSIE: Maybe give it a minute.
FRANCIS: Okay. (pats himself as if checking to see if he’s all there) That was the most intense one yet.
CASSIE: I want one of those sparkly things. It looks like something from your Doctor Who.
FRANCIS: It isn’t my Doctor Who. It’s everybody’s. Did she have to make such a mess?
(He leans over and start picking up newspaper)
I mean really, where are the manners?
CASSIE: She’s from space.
FRANCIS: (now kneels on the floor, cleaning up) Complacency, who would’ve thought?
CASSIE: I’m not even sure what that means.
FRANCIS: Not giving a shit.
CASSIE: I guess. (leans to peer out the window) I think Tweel is gone to wherever they go … Oh my God!
FRANCIS: What? Cassie? What is it?
CASSIE: Francis, you’ve got to see this. (points) The Navarros’ house. It’s gone.
FRANCIS: Gone? Gone where?
He scrambles next to her, stares out the window, gasps.
CASSIE: Nothing but a hole. And dirt.
FRANCIS: How is that even possible? I mean, look, their lawn is still perfect. Not a leaf off the rhododendrons.
CASSIE: And the swing set …
They look at each other in horror.
FRANCIS: It’s Sunday. They were probably at church. Look, here come the cops. It’s their problem.
They slide back into their chairs.
FRANCIS: We didn’t see anything. We were reading the paper.
CASSIE: But Francis …
He puts his arms around her.
FRANCIS: Not our problem, Cass. They’ll have to figure it out. Someone. Not us.
CASSIE: There’s nothing we can do?
FRANCIS: No. (beat) Not anymore.
blackout