{"id":548,"date":"2013-04-16T16:07:57","date_gmt":"2013-04-16T20:07:57","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.bu.edu\/236magazine\/?page_id=548"},"modified":"2013-04-24T10:11:30","modified_gmt":"2013-04-24T14:11:30","slug":"drama-zayd-dohrn","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/www.bu.edu\/236magazine\/past-issues\/current-issue-2\/drama-zayd-dohrn\/","title":{"rendered":"Drama: Zayd Dohrn"},"content":{"rendered":"
ZAYD DOHRN<\/strong> was born underground and raised in New York City. His plays are published by Samuel French and have been produced off-Broadway and across the country, including at Naked Angels, Steppenwolf, the Public, and the Vineyard Theatre. He is currently writing screenplays for The American Film Company and Vox3 Films, and developing a drama series at HBO. He earned his MA from BU, his MFA from NYU, and was a two-year American Playwriting Fellow at Juilliard. He teaches playwriting and screenwriting at Northwestern University.<\/h6>\n

 <\/p>\n

<\/h6>\n

SCENE FROM \u201cSICK\u201d<\/h1>\n

 <\/p>\n

ACT I<\/p>\n

(A house \u2013 immaculate, hermetically sealed.)
\n(Downstage is a sitting area: a couch, a chair, an ottoman, and a glass coffee table.)
\n(Two large air filter units stand in the corners of the room. They are towering, over six feet tall.)
\n(The windows are covered with shades, and the room is dark despite the daylight visible around their edges.)
\n(Downstage left is a foyer leading to the front door. Up left is a hallway leading to a bathroom and den. Up center, a door to the kitchen.)
\n(There is also a staircase up to the second floor.)
\n(In the half-light seeping around the shades, MAXINE, 46, comes down the stairs. She is dressed in simple cotton pajamas and a paper surgical mask covering her nose and mouth.)
\n(She approaches the large air filter units and switches them on, releasing twin jets of vapor into the room.)
\n(The sound of boisterous laughter comes suddenly from offstage and MAXINE jumps. She hesitates for a moment, listening, and then runs lightly into the kitchen.)
\n(Just as she exits, the front door opens, and SIDNEY, 49, and JIM, 26, enter, laughing.)
\n(They are both dressed in sneakers and gym clothes, their shirts dark with sweat.)
\n(SIDNEY wears a clunky knee brace, a headband, and glasses with a strap to hold them on his head.)
\n(He carries two squash racquets and a small black duffel bag.)
\nSIDNEY. \u2013Incredibly dirty. Filthy, I mean\u2013
\nJIM. Can\u2019t wait.
\nSIDNEY. Oh, you\u2019ll love it, yeah. Disgusting. Right up your alley.
\nJIM. I\u2019ll take that as a compliment.
\nSIDNEY. You should. You should. The man was tragically out of place in the seventeenth century. Everybody else is out composing religious epigraph. Occasional poetry celebrating the birth of another inbred mutant, next in line to be Duke of Yorkshire or what have you, and this guy\u2019s out at court, seducing their wives with these smutty\u2013 take your shoes off, Jim, all right? (tossing his own shoes on the floor) -these smutty sonnets, satires. Absolute pornography. Of course, he did quite well for himself. You know, corseted aristocratic women love being talked dirty to…
\n(JIM laughs, kneels to remove his sneakers.)
\nJIM. You sound a bit jealous.
\nSIDNEY. Ah, well who wouldn\u2019t be? A libertine. A courtier, you know. Totally engaged in the world. Living his life. The precise opposite of the academic poet with his head in the clouds and his libido in a lock-box so as not to offend the fucking Pulitzer Committee. Of course, he caught syphilis. The just punishment for all godless perverts. His nose rotted right off his face, like a melting popsicle.
\nJIM. Lovely.
\nSIDNEY. He had to have a shnozz cast in bronze strapped to his head with a leather belt just to show his face in public. But he kept writing until his brain was liquefied. And screwing too, apparently. Dead at 33. It\u2019ll inspire you, I guarantee. Or at least turn you on.
\nJIM. At this point, either one would be fantastic.
\nSIDNEY. (calling up the stairs) Maxine? I\u2019m home!(no response) Jim\u2013 Have a seat. I\u2019ll go get it.
\nJIM. Nice place.
\nSIDNEY. (looks around) Oh? Yeah, it\u2019s\u2013 I hardly notice, now, to tell you the truth… We bought it years ago, when things were cheap, so now we can\u2019t ever leave…
\n(JIM laughs, and SIDNEY starts to exit.)
\n(JIM takes out an envelope, removes a type-written letter.)
\nJIM. Sid, do you mind signing this now, or\u2013
\nSIDNEY. Sure. Put it over there. I\u2019ll get my pen.
\n(He exits, towards the study.)
\n(JIM puts down the letter, wanders over to one of the air filters and sticks his face in the jet of vapor, cooling off.)
\n(MAXINE enters, from the kitchen, still wearing her mask. She sees JIM and stops. He looks up, sees her through the clouds.)
\nJIM. Hi\u2013 (beat) Jim… Sorry, one of Sidney\u2019s\u2013
\n(SIDNEY reenters, reading from a well-thumbed
\npaperback.)
\nSIDNEY. \u201cWorst part of me, and henceforth hated most, Through all the town a common fucking-post, On whom each whore relieves her tingling cunt, as hogs\u2013\u201d
\n(He sees MAXINE and stops. She hovers by the swinging door, motionless.)
\nSIDNEY. Hey\u2013 Hon, I didn\u2019t hear\u2013 This is Maxine\u2013 come on in\u2013 my wife. Max, Jim.
\nJIM. Hello.
\nMAXINE. (recovering herself) Sorry, I was a bit. I didn\u2019t expect\u2013 Sidney, you didn\u2019t tell me you were bringing someone.
\nSIDNEY. Yeah, sorry. Spur of the moment thing. Kid was taking advantage of my advanced age over at the fitness center, and\u2013
\nJIM. It was really close, actually.
\nSIDNEY. It was not. He mopped the court with me. And he\u2019s never even played squash before. Is that embarrassing?
\nJIM. I thought you were letting me win.
\nSIDNEY. I was, the first game.
\n(SIDNEY kisses MAXINE\u2019s cheek. She pushes him off.)
\nMAXINE. God, you\u2019re dripping with sweat, Sidney… You didn\u2019t even shower?
\nSIDNEY. No, there was a line. And we got to talking, and I realized Jim\u2019s never read the Earl of Rochester, which is a travesty, really, when you come to think about it. And we have two copies lying around here, just\u2013
\nMAXINE. So does the bookstore.
\nSIDNEY. Yeah, well, Jim\u2019s a grad student, Honey. We can\u2019t expect him to pay for his own books. He needs that money for cigarettes, booze, and hookers.
\nJIM. True.
\nSIDNEY. Anyway, I wanted him to meet the family. It\u2019s a good subject for him, don\u2019t you think?
\nMAXINE. If you say so, Sidney… I just didn\u2019t realize I should have put down newspaper before you came home. (She laughs. To JIM, confidingly:) He\u2019s like a child sometimes, you know. Spends all day wallowing in the mud, and then comes home with his pockets stuffed with all sorts of… Would you like something to drink? I\u2019m sure Sidney hasn\u2019t offered.
\nJIM. No, thank you. I should probably get home, actually.
\nMAXINE. Are you sure?
\nJIM. Yes, I\u2019ve got a lot to\u2013
\nMAXINE. Oh… Well then, it was really nice\u2013
\nSIDNEY. No, wait. Stay. Have a drink, Jim. Keep us company. We insist, right?
\n(beat)
\nMAXINE. Sure. Bottled water? Juice? Wine?
\nJIM. Water would be great.
\nMAXINE. Ice?
\nJIM. No thanks.
\n(MAXINE exits to the kitchen.)
\n(SIDNEY picks up the book.)
\nSIDNEY. (reading) \u201c\u2013On whom each whore relieves her tingling cunt, As hogs do rub themselves on gates and grunt.\u201d
\n(JIM laughs.)
\nJIM. I can see why we didn\u2019t cover him in eleventh grade English. Mrs. Crenshaw would have had a stroke.
\nSIDNEY. It\u2019s a shame though, don\u2019t you think? High school boys are the ideal audience for this stuff… (tossing JIM the book) Here, bone up.
\nJIM. Thanks.
\nSIDNEY. I got to play the Earl once, you know, at an MLA colloquium. A bunch of us dressed up as writers from history: Milton, Blake, Shelley, Langston Hughes. We\u2019re supposed to be having this serious conversation about\u2013 \u201cgenre\u201d something or other. And I\u2019m sitting at the table, with my bronze nose, powdered wig, and massive leather codpiece. Shouting about my \u201cclammy joys\u201d and \u201cliquid raptures.\u201d Surprised it didn\u2019t end in a lawsuit, actually. Some terrified librarian…
\n(MAXINE reenters, with a glass of water only a tiny bit full.)
\nMAXINE. Here you go.
\nJIM. Thanks. Great.
\n(He puts the book down on the coffee table and takes a careful sip of water.)
\nMAXINE. So, you\u2019re one of Sidney\u2019s students? A poet?
\nJIM. Trying to be.
\nMAXINE. You must be good. He only likes the good ones.
\n(JIM smiles, embarrassed.)
\nJIM. I haven\u2019t written anything good in years, to be honest.
\nSIDNEY. He\u2019s being modest. He\u2019s very talented. Although, he did drop a full letter grade at the gym today.
\nJIM. Sore loser.
\n(SIDNEY laughs, drops his duffel bag on the couch. MAXINE goes around to the chair and notices something on the carpet.)
\nMAXINE. Oh, Sidney, look! You tracked mud all over the floor!
\nSIDNEY. What mud?
\nMAXINE. Look, it\u2019s\u2013
\nSIDNEY. We took our shoes off as \/ we came in.
\nMAXINE. Well, is this mud, or \/ isn\u2019t it?
\nSIDNEY. Honey, there\u2019s no way\u2013
\n(She kneels, sniffs the carpet.)
\nMAXINE. Uh! It\u2019s not mud.
\nSIDNEY. No?
\nMAXINE. No! It stinks, Sidney! It\u2019s dog shit. God, look at that.
\nSIDNEY. Look at our shoes, Maxine. They\u2019re in the foyer. Safe and \/ contained.
\nMAXINE. It\u2019s on your socks then. How does anyone get shit on his socks? Do you just walk around barefoot all day looking for filth to stomp through with your disgusting meaty hooves?
\n(JIM nervously checks his socks.)
\nSIDNEY. Our socks are clean, Max. Look. Maybe somebody tracked it into the locker room at the gym then, and it\u2019s on… I don\u2019t know. I\u2019m sorry, all right?
\n(beat)
\n(MAXINE laughs. She pulls her surgical mask down so it hangs loosely around her neck.)
\nMAXINE. (to JIM, lightly) It should be illegal, don\u2019t you think, Jim? In Singapore they just shoot all the dogs. To keep the city clean. Here we put them on leashes, wander around, and let them spray the sidewalks. And then we clomp through the manure like we\u2019re living on a farm, and nobody seems to notice. Nobody cares. In a few more years, people won\u2019t even be able to walk. We\u2019ll all need skis and snowshoes to get around… You\u2019re not a dog lover, are you?
\nJIM. Not especially.
\nMAXINE. Good. Suddenly I thought I might have put my foot in my mouth. I do that sometimes. Luckily, I don\u2019t track through feces first, like Sidney does.
\nJIM. Ha. I prefer cats.
\nMAXINE. Uch! Cats, blechh. You don\u2019t have cats at home, do you?
\nJIM. Uh… Well, my parents have two, but\u2013
\nMAXINE. No, but you don\u2019t live with them now?
\nJIM. My parents? No. I\u2019m a little bit \/ old for\u2013
\nMAXINE. I meant the cats.
\nSIDNEY. Leave it alone, Maxine. You\u2019re embarrassing him.
\nMAXINE. Am I?
\nJIM. No, that\u2019s all right.
\nMAXINE. He seems quite confident.
\nSIDNEY. Don\u2019t let the good looks fool you. He\u2019s shy.
\n(beat)
\nMAXINE. Sidney had a rat once, you know, when we met\u2013
\nJIM. Really?
\nSIDNEY. A hamster, actually.
\nMAXINE. A rodent, anyhow. He kept it in the kitchen, can you believe that? Next to the sink. Every time we had breakfast, I just wanted to barf. Finally, I dumped the squeaky thing down the garbage disposal and hit the switch. (She imitates the sound.) I\u2019m joking, of course.
\nJIM. Ha…
\nSIDNEY. Hilarious.
\nMAXINE. We gave it away. The pound or something, wasn\u2019t it, Sidney? Do they have a pound for hamsters?
\nSIDNEY. All right, Maxine. Enough.
\nMAXINE. Enough what? This is called \u201csmall talk.\u201d I\u2019m entertaining our guest. Somebody has to. You can just walk in and throw crap on the floor, but when I try to\u2013
\nSIDNEY. You\u2019ve made your point… I\u2019ll clean it up.
\nMAXINE. No, don\u2019t bother. Don\u2019t bother. You\u2019ll just smear it around and make it worse. (to JIM) Have you ever noticed that men are incapable of cleaning up the slightest mess? I think it\u2019s because you pee standing up, you never really practice a proper wiping motion. Every day I mop an absolute carpet of pubic hair off the bathroom floor. The boys don\u2019t even seem to notice.
\n(JIM laughs, politely. MAXINE puts her mask back on and exits, to the kitchen.)
\nSIDNEY. Sorry about that… We have kind of a cleanliness fetish going on here. In case you hadn\u2019t noticed.
\nJIM. It\u2019s all right. My mom\u2019s a neat freak, too.
\nSIDNEY. A \u201cneat freak.\u201d Well, that\u2019s a good way of \/ putting it.
\nJIM. I didn\u2019t think we\u2013 tracked anything in here though, honestly.
\nSIDNEY. No. She\u2013 imagines things, that\u2019s\u2013 I\u2019m afraid Max has kind of um…lost track of what\u2019s real and what\u2019s… (He trails off.)
\nJIM. Whatever the opposite of real is?
\nSIDNEY. Hm. Exactly. (He smiles.) In any case, you\u2019re here now. An outside observer. A witness to our surprise.
\nJIM. What surprise?
\nSIDNEY. Oh, well. We could all use a bit of objectivity, Jim.
\nWhat do they call it? In a science experiment? The \u201ccontrol?\u201d I\u2019m an inmate here myself. Can\u2019t very well study the asylum, now can I?
\nJIM. Well, you both seem like you\u2019re on the spectrum of normal to me.
\n(SIDNEY laughs.)
\nSIDNEY. Wait a while.
\n(MAXINE enters, carrying a bucket and a rag.)
\nJIM. You\u2019ve got a great place here, Maxine.
\nMAXINE. Thank you. We bought it when things were cheap, so now we can\u2019t ever leave.
\nSIDNEY. I already told that one, Honey.
\n(She laughs, pulls the mask down again.)
\nMAXINE. Oh, well… Married couples are so tedious, aren\u2019t they, Jim? It\u2019s like sharing one brain. One small, feeble, bisected brain.
\n(She starts to clean the carpet.)
\nJIM. Can I\u2013
\nMAXINE. That\u2019s all right. I got it… Are you from the city?
\nJIM. No, from Michigan, actually.
\nMAXINE. Oh, whereabouts?
\nSIDNEY. A hick from the sticks, Darling. We\u2019ll have to instruct him on the mysteries of sidewalks and \/ traffic lights.
\nJIM. Just outside of Detroit, actually. Thank you very much.
\nMAXINE. (pleasantly) I love the Midwest. I\u2019m from Milwaukee, originally. It\u2019s so much more wholesome, don\u2019t you think? Compared to the coasts…
\nSIDNEY. \u201cWholesome.\u201d Ugh.
\nMAXINE. Really. You know that since 9\/11, New York City has been the most polluted place on the planet, Jim?
\nJIM. I didn\u2019t, no.
\nMAXINE. Yeah. The EPA did an environmental assessment, they won\u2019t even release some of their findings. There\u2019d be mass exodus. If people knew\u2013 We\u2019re blanketed in clouds of asbestos, vaporized plastics, VOCs, lead paint, jet fuel. It\u2019s all carcinogenic. Not to mention the consequences for sufferers of asthma and allergies. It\u2019s like we all just inhaled two office buildings. In our lungs. Three hundred fifty stories of steel and concrete and glass, along with three thousand bodies. Charred flesh, human hair, bone. Cut ten years off the life expectancy of every person in the city, probably. And we\u2019re worried about global warming? (She laughs.) Of course, Sidney won\u2019t even think about leaving Manhattan. He\u2019s like Woody Allen. Except not funny.
\n(SIDNEY laughs.)
\nJIM. My friends all thought I was nuts to move here now. They all think it\u2019s a matter of time, you know, before the next biological attack, or dirty bomb…
\nMAXINE. Well they\u2019re right, but actually that\u2019s the least of our worries now. Look at the air. I mean, we\u2019re living on top of this giant cesspool. And then we\u2019re surprised by these massive upticks in premature births, infant asthma, lung cancer, autism?
\nSIDNEY. (interrupting) How are the kids, Maxine?
\nMAXINE. Oh, they\u2019re\u2013 (She glances at the stairs.) Sarah\u2019s running a slight fever, I think, but she\u2019s pre-menstrual, so maybe that\u2019s normal, I\u2019m not sure. Davey hasn\u2019t had a bowel movement since Tuesday… I\u2019ve given him a laxative, but\u2013
\nSIDNEY. So, they\u2019re fine.
\nMAXINE. Well, if you don\u2019t want details, Sidney.
\nSIDNEY. You kidding? I love details. Tell us more, please… Let\u2019s break out the spreadsheets.
\nMAXINE. (to JIM) I\u2019m sorry. Our children are ill, so\u2013
\nSIDNEY. That\u2019s a matter of opinion.
\nMAXINE. Is it?
\nSIDNEY. Why don\u2019t we call them down? Introduce Jim to the next generation.
\nMAXINE. They\u2019re studying.
\nSIDNEY. They can take a break. Anyway, how\u2019s he supposed to form an accurate opinion if he doesn\u2019t get the full freakshow?
\n(beat)
\nMAXINE. All right, fine… Call them down. If you want to take that risk.
\nSIDNEY. That risk? That\u2019s a bit dramatic, don\u2019t you think? I mean our guest will start to feel unwelcome here. He\u2019s not some disease\u2013 Some spore we might accidentally inhale.
\nJIM. I\u2019m sorry, maybe I should\u2013
\nSIDNEY. (without turning) Sit.
\nMAXINE. (laughs) Don\u2019t worry, Jim. Stay. Relax. It\u2019s fine. A familiar squabble. It comes out of affection. Mostly. (to SIDNEY) Well then… At least clear your things off the couch, Sidney. This isn\u2019t a toxic waste dump, after all.
\n(She picks up his duffel bag.)
\nMAXINE. What\u2019s this, your dirty jock strap?
\nSIDNEY. Yes, Max. It\u2019s so big I need a separate bag to carry it around in.
\n(For some reason, both SIDNEY and MAXINE find this very funny. They laugh.)
\n(MAXINE drops the bag on the coffee table as SIDNEY goes to the foot of the stairs.)
\nSIDNEY. (calling) Sarah? Davey? Come down a minute?
\n(He crosses back to the sitting area. MAXINE puts her mask back on.)
\nMAXINE. (re: the dog shit) Don\u2019t mention this to the children, Jim, all right? They\u2019ll worry themselves sick. Who knows what this mutt had in his system. The fleas. Worms\u2013
\n(SARAH, 19, and DAVEY, 17, appear at the top of the stairs. They are pale, fragile, kind of weirdly beautiful.)
\n(DAVEY has on a paper mask like MAXINE\u2019s, covering his mouth and nose. SARAH\u2019s face is uncovered.)
\n(JIM stands as they come in.)
\nJIM. Hello\u2013
\nSIDNEY. Guys, this is Jim. One of my students. Sarah. Davey. Our kids.
\nJIM. Good to meet you.
\nSIDNEY. Come. Chat.
\n(They come down the stairs together and sit on the couch, across from JIM.)
\n(JIM sits too, uncomfortably aware of his own body, his damp clothes.)
\nJIM. Sorry… We just came from playing\u2013 I\u2019m a little bit\u2013
\nSIDNEY. Jim\u2019s in my class this year, guys. I thought he and Sarah might be able to talk shop.
\nSARAH. James\u2013 Corrigan? Is that your\u2013
\nJIM. Uh, yeah, how did you..?
\nSIDNEY. Sarah reads all the literary journals. Kenyon Review. Threepenny. Cover to cover, right? Keeps track of the new talent.
\nJIM. Oh.
\nSIDNEY. She knows an up-and-comer \/ when she sees one.
\nJIM. I don\u2019t know if I can still \/ be considered\u2013
\nSARAH. I don\u2019t keep track. You make me sound like such a stalker. (to JIM) I hate most of it. Just love to torture myself with mediocrity, that\u2019s all.
\nJIM. Thanks.
\nSARAH. Oh, I don\u2019t mean you. I didn\u2019t mean\u2013 I like some of yours… The early ones. \u201cInside-Out Man.\u201d That was good.
\n(beat)
\nSIDNEY. Davey? Are you gonna say hi?
\nDAVEY. Hello.
\nSIDNEY. Jim\u2019s the best writer in the program this year. A future star. Although his grade did drop a full letter on the court this after\u2013
\nMAXINE. You already used that one, Sidney.
\nSIDNEY. So I did. I did… (He chuckles.) Jim, you want to stay for dinner? You must be starving.
\n(SARAH and DAVEY both glance at MAXINE. She watches SIDNEY.)
\nJIM. Oh, I don\u2019t think I can, I\u2019m uh\u2013
\nSIDNEY. Come on. We don\u2019t get visitors often. Keep us company. We\u2019ll call it extra credit.
\nMAXINE. Sidney, I don\u2019t have enough for\u2013
\nSIDNEY. We\u2019ll supplement. Must have something lying around. Leftovers? Ten minutes. Jim, what do you say?
\nJIM. I\u2019m not really dressed.
\nSIDNEY. It\u2019s not black tie.
\nJIM. Well, but I don\u2019t want to intrude…
\nSIDNEY. Oh, come on, mealy-mouthed Dear Abby social etiquette bullshit! You\u2019re a starving poetry student. Your professor just invited you to a free dinner. Complimentary calories. Eat!
\nJIM. (laughs) Okay.
\nSIDNEY. All right then. I should warn you though, we have vegans here, so if you want a T-bone or foie gras, look elsewhere.
\nJIM. No, I\u2019m pretty much a vegetarian myself, actually.
\nMAXINE. Are you?
\nSIDNEY. Well then, you\u2019ll fit right in. The only animals we like to slaughter in this house are dogs and\u2013 what? Hamsters, Max?
\n(SIDNEY laughs.)
\n(DAVEY suddenly takes a deep, rattling breath.)
\n(They all look at him.)
\nSARAH. Davey?
\nSIDNEY. Hey, what \/ is it?
\nMAXINE. You having a reaction?
\n(DAVEY nods)
\nSIDNEY. (to JIM) No problem. Don\u2019t worry\u2013
\nMAXINE. What is it, Honey? Can you tell? Something on the\u2013
\nSIDNEY. Why don\u2019t you go upstairs, Dave. Rest a bit.
\nMAXINE. We\u2019ll turn on the filters. Clear it out. Okay?
\n(DAVEY nods and makes his way carefully up the stairs, holding the railing.)
\nJIM. Sid, I should really go\u2013 You guys have a lot going on here, and I\u2019m\u2013
\nSIDNEY. Don\u2019t be ridiculous. This happens sometimes. Asthma. He just needs to lie down, take some deep breaths. He\u2019ll be okay. Trust me, he soldiers through. You\u2019ll get used to it. I still have to sign that letter, right? After dinner.
\n(DAVEY has disappeared upstairs. The others sit in an awkward silence.)
\nSIDNEY. Maxine? Shall we?
\nMAXINE. Are you trying to make a point, Sidney?
\nSIDNEY. What point would that be? It\u2019s not as if this is unusual, is it? You don\u2019t think it\u2019s anything serious?
\n(beat)
\nMAXINE. Sarah? Are you\u2013
\nSARAH. I\u2019m fine, Mom.
\nMAXINE. You sure?
\nSARAH. Yes.
\nSIDNEY. We\u2019ll let them talk then, okay? (to JIM) You washed your hands, right? You\u2019re sterile?
\nJIM. As a mule.
\n(SIDNEY laughs.)
\nSIDNEY. Smart ass. Believe this kid? (ushering MAXINE into the kitchen) Ask her about her work, Jim. Don\u2019t take no for an answer. Trust me, she wants to talk about it.
\n(SIDNEY and MAXINE exit. JIM and SARAH sit there, awkwardly.)
\nJIM. So. Your work..?
\nSARAH. Guess you\u2019re Dad\u2019s new favorite, huh?
\nJIM. Uh. I wouldn\u2019t say that. Just a \/ student.
\nSARAH. \u201cFriend?\u201d
\nJIM. I don\u2019t know. I guess we hit it off. A bit.
\n(She nods at the piece of paper on the coffee table.)
\nSARAH. Recommendation letter?
\nJIM. Yeah.
\nSARAH. Made you write it yourself, didn\u2019t he?
\nJIM. (laughs) I did a draft, yeah. He\u2019s a busy guy, so\u2013 I don\u2019t mind.
\nSARAH. I hope you were lavish in your praise. You mind?
\n(She picks up the letter.)
\nJIM. Uh\u2013 It\u2019s a little embarrassing, actually. I\u2019d prefer if you didn\u2019t\u2013
\nSARAH. (reads) \u201cJames Corrigan is the most talented and promising young poet I have met in over two decades of teaching\u2013\u201d Wow. Congratulations.
\nJIM. He told me to be \u201cobscenely generous,\u201d so…
\nSARAH. What\u2019s it for?
\nJIM. A fellowship. At Stanford. I don\u2019t know…
\nSARAH. Just what we need, right? More Stegner poets. Gag. (JIM laughs.) He took you to play squash though. That\u2019s a good sign. He must think you\u2019re good. He chooses someone each year, you know. We hear all about that. He believes in um… Apprenticeship. One-on-one guidance. The ancient Greeks. Of course, he\u2019s never brought one of you home before…
\nJIM. I\u2019m honored.
\nSARAH. Are you?
\nJIM. Shouldn\u2019t I be?
\nSARAH. I think it\u2019s annoying, actually, picking favorites based on this macho male bonding bullshit. Squash? (She picks up the book.) The Earl of Rochester? How\u2019s a woman supposed to get noticed if the professors all prefer men?
\nJIM. Many of the professors notice women, trust me.
\nSARAH. Gross.
\nJIM. (laughs) Well… Better that he hangs out with me then? At least we know his intentions are pure.
\nSARAH. He took me to play once, you know, when I was a kid. I was scared. Whacking a ball around a room the size of a refrigerator, it seems insane. And the locker rooms there are filthy. Like trekking through a sewer.
\nJIM. Imagine what the guys\u2019 room is like. Ten times worse. At least. (beat) Hey\u2013 Your dad said you wanted to talk about your work, right? Can we\u2013
\nSARAH. No, I don\u2019t\u2013
\nJIM. \u201cDon\u2019t take no for an answer.\u201d
\nSARAH. Too bad.
\nJIM. Uh… (laughs) Okay… I can\u2019t force you.
\nSARAH. He\u2019s just trying to be provocative. Ignore him.
\nJIM. Tell me something at least, so I can say I\u2013
\nSARAH. \u201cTried?\u201d What do you want to know?
\nJIM. Something about\u2013 something you wrote? Anything? I\u2019m interested, really…
\nSARAH. Yeah, right…
\nJIM. No, I am. I am. Come on.
\n(SARAH looks at him.)
\n(She reaches in her pocket and takes out a folded piece of paper. She unfolds it and glances at the page.)
\n(She rubs the piece of paper between her fingers, considers, and then holds it out to him.)
\n(JIM takes the paper. He reads, looks up at her, reads more. She watches him carefully.)
\n(He puts the paper down.)
\nJIM. Guess it runs in the family, huh?
\nSARAH. Oh please.
\nJIM. I\u2019m serious. I\u2019m not even surprised. I mean, your dad\u2019s a genius, after all. Maybe it\u2019s hereditary.
\nSARAH. Genius genes, you think?
\nJIM. I\u2019m jealous. How\u2019d you come up with this? If you don\u2019t
\nmind my\u2013
\nSARAH. Oh, I saw a documentary once. Discovery Channel. About a group of spiders, in Africa? They had gotten so big they could hunt live chickens\u2013 (JIM laughs.) And there was a picture of this one spider, standing over a dead bird. This big. (She demonstrates.) He had dragged it out of a coop in the village, like a coyote. And when they took the cameras down into the spider hole, where all these huge things lived, feeding on KFC, they found a live frog down there, with all the spiders… They were keeping it, as a pet, bringing it food, and cleaning up its waste, grooming it\u2013
\nJIM. (laughs) That\u2019s the sickest thing I ever heard.
\nSARAH. I know, isn\u2019t it? I felt so bad for the frog though. Don\u2019t you think? Down there, all alone, with those things? This foreign species? But I don\u2019t know, maybe he was happy. Maybe they were friends. Maybe he felt taken care of… (beat) So, I wrote a poem about it.
\nJIM. Sent it out yet?
\n(SARAH shakes her head.)
\nWhy not?
\nSARAH. I don\u2019t know. Uncomfortable.
\nJIM. Your dad knows people. He could probably\u2013
\nSARAH. Oh, yeah, No, I know. I just don\u2019t want to have people shitting all over my poems right now. They\u2019re private.
\nJIM. You showed me.
\nSARAH. I was curious.
\nJIM. About what?
\nSARAH. Whether they\u2019re any good.
\nJIM. You must know they are.
\nSARAH. I wanted\u2013 an outside opinion.
\nJIM. Why me?
\nSARAH. Because you\u2019re here. Because you\u2019re a guy. Because I\u2019m pathetic and insecure. I don\u2019t know. I was trying it out.
\nJIM. And?
\n(SARAH shrugs.)
\n(He looks at her.)
\nHey\u2013 Can I ask you something?
\nSARAH. What?
\nJIM. How old are you?
\nSARAH. Why..? Nineteen.
\nJIM. I knew it.
\nSARAH. What?
\nJIM. Child prodigies depress me. A reminder that I\u2019m old and fucking ordinary. I\u2019m twenty-six, right? When I was nineteen I was probably writing like\u2013 white-boy rap lyrics and dirty rhymes on the bathroom stalls.
\nSARAH. I\u2019m not a child.
\nJIM. You\u2019re still in high school?
\nSARAH. No, I\u2019ve graduated, basically.
\nJIM. \u201cBasically?\u201d
\nSARAH. Well, we\u2019re home-schooled, you know… Mom\u2019s a certified high school teacher. I have a diploma. But there\u2019s no ceremony or anything. We had a cake. They bought me a laptop.
\nJIM. You made out like a bandit, trust me. Ceremony\u2019s the worst part.
\nSARAH. Yeah…
\nJIM. So you\u2019re applying to colleges now, or…
\n(beat)
\nSARAH. Keep a secret?
\nJIM. I think so. Sure.
\nSARAH. I already applied. To St. John\u2019s? In Annapolis? I was accepted. Got the package yesterday.
\nJIM. Congratulations.
\nSARAH. Yeah. They have excellent health services there, you know. One of the best in the country. Ten full-time doctors, and an ICU right on campus\u2013
\nJIM. Wow.
\n(She blushes, realizing she\u2019s said something strange.)
\nSARAH. I have a family history, you know, so I have to think about\u2013
\nJIM. No, sure. I understand. I\u2019m just\u2013
\nSARAH. Going away to college would be\u2013
\nJIM. A big step.
\nSARAH. Right. (beat) My mom doesn\u2019t know yet. That I applied. That I got in. We didn\u2019t want to upset her, until. So. It\u2019s gonna be a big surprise tonight.
\nJIM. I\u2019m sure she\u2019ll be ecstatic.
\n(She nods uncertainly.)
\nSo what did you mean \u201cthe early ones\u201d?
\nSARAH. What?
\nJIM. You said before. You liked my \u201cearly ones…\u201d
\nSARAH. Oh, I don\u2019t know. I just\u2013
\nJIM. You think my recent stuff is\u2013
\nSARAH. No no no, I\u2013
\nJIM. Shit, right? (He laughs.) That\u2019s why I came to New York. Hoping for…inspiration. Or something. That your dad would rub off on me.
\nSARAH. And has he?
\nJIM. Not yet. Not yet, but I\u2019m hopeful. Another year before I have to throw in the towel, go to law school or something…
\n(beat)
\nSARAH. Hey, you want to hear some music?
\nJIM. Sure, what do you\u2013
\nSARAH. Bach? Shubert..?
\nJIM. Oh, fine. I\u2019m illiterate with that kind of\u2013 I know more like, The Ramones. The Cure, y\u2019know…
\nSARAH. Punk music.
\nJIM. Well… Nerd-punk by now, I guess.
\n(She nods awkwardly, gets up, turns on the stereo. Music starts to play.)
\n(JIM mock-cheers, making the sound of a crowd at a rock concert. It falls flat.)
\n(SARAH sits back down.)
\nJIM. So… You don\u2019t wear a mask. SARAH. No.
\nJIM. Your mom said you were sick.
\nSARAH. Mmm. My brother\u2019s mostly\u2013 Well, we\u2019re all allergic to certain things. Borderline MCS? So. We have to keep the place clean. Immaculate, really. It\u2019s kind of a full-time job, for all of us. But as long as I\u2019m here, I\u2019m pretty\u2013 safe.<\/p>\n

—<\/p>\n

\u201cSick\u201d has been produced across the country and is published by Samuel French.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

ZAYD DOHRN was born underground and raised in New York City. His plays are published by Samuel French and have been produced off-Broadway and across the country, including at Naked Angels, Steppenwolf, the Public, and the Vineyard Theatre. He is currently writing screenplays for The American Film Company and Vox3 Films, and developing a drama […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3755,"featured_media":0,"parent":522,"menu_order":5,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.bu.edu\/236magazine\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/548"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.bu.edu\/236magazine\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.bu.edu\/236magazine\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.bu.edu\/236magazine\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/3755"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.bu.edu\/236magazine\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=548"}],"version-history":[{"count":9,"href":"https:\/\/www.bu.edu\/236magazine\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/548\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":699,"href":"https:\/\/www.bu.edu\/236magazine\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/548\/revisions\/699"}],"up":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.bu.edu\/236magazine\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/522"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.bu.edu\/236magazine\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=548"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}