Real and Phantom Pains: An Anthology of New Russian Drama. John Freedman
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Have you gone apeshit, monkeyboy?
(BLACK GUY shoots POLICEMAN twice.
BLACK GUY takes the gun from the dying POLICEMAN’s holster and finishes him off.
BLACK GUY carefully aims and shoots the attic story three more times.
BOY and GIRL pray.
The bullets don’t hit them.)
6
BLACK GUY: Hey, are you alive up there?
GIRL (Signs): “Will he kill us?”
(BOY puts his right hand on the elbow of his left arm and flips her off without lifting his finger)
BOY (Whispers): I don’t know what to do.
GIRL (Whispers): Me either.
(BLACK GUY pulls the clip out of his gun and examines it.)
BLACK GUY: You are small. Right? You must be small... If you were big I would have killed you... or wounded you – (Aims the gun.) And you are whispering, which means there’s two of you.
(BLACK GUY aims and shoots at the area untouched by the earlier shots.
BOY and GIRL crawl to the sides of the area.
BLACK GUY misses.)
BLACK GUY: Just!
(He shoots.)
Throw down!
(He shoots.)
The powder!
(He shoots.)
And I leave. If you’re smart, you won’t mention the cop. You didn’t see shit.
(BLACK GUY tries to open the storage area doors, but they are now locked. He stands under the storage area, examining the bullet holes. He pokes his finger in the holes.
BOY pushes a straw through a hole and spits in BLACK GUY’s eye.
BLACK GUY screams and shoots into the hiding place twice, missing twice.
The gun clicks.
BLACK GUY takes the butt of his gun and bangs on the storage area. He chips away at the bullet holes and they grow, breaking.
BLACK GUY stops and goes to the kitchen. Fumbling, a clanking of drawers.)
BOY: Quick, let’s jump!
(BOY and GIRL jump down and hide.
BLACK GUY returns with a knife and a cleaver. Holding the knife in his teeth, he chops at the bottom of the storage area with the cleaver, shattering boards. When the hole is wide enough, he hoists himself up into it, knife clenched in his teeth. He grabs the bag of heroin. He takes the knife from his mouth.)
BLACK GUY: I see you got your asses out of here. Fuckin’ kids are smart –
(BLACK GUY moves to crawl out. He is stuck. He turns, trying to twist his body out of the hole. The sharp wood pierces his body.
BLACK GUY hisses, his face twisting. He moves in the other direction, but it gets worse. BLACK GUY grits his teeth and strains to pull himself through the jagged hole. Nothing. The wood digs in deeper. He screams and stops moving, hanging silently.
BOY and GIRL emerge and stand by the dangling legs.)
7
A thin, but steady stream of blood runs from BLACK GUY’s leg.
BOY (Trying to be funny): You afraid?
GIRL: Yes. Of this and that. (She gestures to the dead POLICEMAN.)
BOY: Don’t be. I sat with my Mom and Dad for three hours waiting for the cops. They don’t move. They don’t speak. They just lie there, that’s it. I opened the door, in case he gets out, but he’s stuck worse than Winnie-the-Pooh in the honey tree.
(BOY pulls on BLACK GUY’s leg.
BLACK GUY moans and comes to his senses.)
GIRL: Don’t hurt him –
BOY: He wasn’t hurt when he tried to kill us.
GIRL: Doesn’t matter. It makes you the same as him. And if you... I won’t be your friend.
BOY: Ok. No, you’re right... so what should I do?
GIRL: I dunno. Call the police?
(BLACK GUY’s legs twitch. He screams from pain.)
BOY: Hush, hush! No one’s gonna rat you out to the cops. Relax.
GIRL: You aren’t gonna call?
BOY: Why should I? He came here with the cops. You want more like him here? What would we do then? Yeah, sure, they may do nothing now, but they’ll come find me... at night. Calling the cops is the last thing we want to do.
GIRL: So, what? You’re going to keep him here?
(BOY picks up Policeman’s gun and pulls out the clip. BOY snaps the clip back into place. He goes to the Policeman’s body, picks up Black Guy’s revolver, flips open the cylinder, empty casings fall to the floor.
BOY puts both guns on the table, side by side.)
BOY: No bullets.
(BOY covers the Policeman with a blanket from the sofa.)
Now he won’t frighten you.
GIRL: Thank you. I didn’t used to be afraid of anything, but at camp, Sushka and me conjured up a troll –
BOY: Wow! You conjure trolls too?
GIRL: Absolutely! Girls invented fortune-telling and conjuring –
BOY: I wasn’t arguing... Is the troll the only thing you’ve summoned?
GIRL: I don’t know how to conjure, Sushka did it, but she’s the only one who knew how to call the troll.
BOY: We’ve conjured a hundred trolls, and once we summoned it using... holy cow!
GIRL: What?
BOY: Very cool.
GIRL: Why?
BOY: Cause I figured it out.
GIRL: What?
BOY: What kind of inheritance I got.
GIRL: What kind is that?
BOY: Well, Mom – She could leave me whatever... Right?
GIRL: Yes.
BOY: But she left me this.
GIRL: So?
BOY: She wanted to destroy it herself, but couldn’t. Now it’s up to me.
BLACK GUY (Hoarse): Oh, Jesus –
GIRL: What’d he say?
BLACK GUY: Don’t be stupid –
BOY: And you’re real smart hanging there –
(BOY pushes Black Guy’s leg.
BLACK GUY screams.)
BOY: See?
GIRL: What’s he saying?
BOY: You’re ready to listen to the enemy and I haven’t even finished him off yet?
GIRL: But he’s alive and trying to talk.
BOY: All right, yeah, fine. No problem. But I know what I’m doing. Some awesome, super-hot-shit I came up with.
GIRL: Then you go first.
BOY: Right here and now, we’re going to summon the Queen of Spades and give this guy to her.