Setting:

1987 America, during the Iran-Iraq war.

Characters:
Harriet
Johnathan
Max
Eric

SCENE ONE:

(As the lights dim on, two conversing voices are heard over the distant sound of waves crashing quietly upon a shore.)

HARRIET'S VOICE: My principal claimed that I was acting petulant today. Do you think I'm petulant?

JOHNATHAN'S VOICE: (calmly) Harriet, please. You're one of the most mature girls I've ever met.

(The scene opens on HARRIET and JOHNATHAN, at the shore of a beach whose location is currently unknown. They are both seated on the sand, their legs stretched out in front of them. JOHNATHAN is clad in only swimming trunks and a Red Sox baseball cap, whereas HARRIET is fully clothed in a baggy t-shirt and jeans. The foam rises to their bare feet as they converse, their eyes mostly on the waves that emit from the horizon.)

HARRIET: Having an extensive vocabulary by no means makes a girl mature.

JOHNATHAN: You have much more than an extensive vocabulary.

HARRIET: (leaning back on her elbows) ... Do you ever wonder if this place has a name? Has anyone claimed it?

JOHNATHAN: It seems uninhabited. The sand would be much less soft if others used it.

HARRIET: You're right. (takes a handful of sand, allowing it to seep through the creases between her fingers and back onto the ground) So, we can name it whatever we want?

JOHNATHAN: I believe so.

HARRET: What would you name it, Johnathan?

JOHNATHAN: (shrugging) I don't know. It seems enough like paradise without a name.

HARRIET: What if we named it Paradise, then? That's what it is, after all.

JOHNATHAN: Whatever you'd like.

(There is a moment of silence aside from the rippling waves, as Harriet inspects Johnathan's expression carefully.)

JOHNATHAN: (befuddled) What?

HARRIET: What do you mean, what?

JOHNATHAN: Why are you giving me that weird look?

HARRIET: ... You know, lemons are especially bitter when you first bite into them.

JOHNATHAN: Yeah, so?

HARRIET: So.

JOHNATHAN: So, what?

HARRIET: So, you're acting oddly similar to a lemon when you bite into it.

JOHNATHAN: I don't know why you'd assume that I have any resemblance to a fruit.

HARRIET: Johnathan, is there something bothering you?

JOHNATHAN: Of course not.

HARRIET: Don't lie to me.

JOHNATHAN: ...

HARRIET: (in a sterner tone) Don't lie to me, Johnathan.

JOHNATHAN: I've had a rough day, that's all.

HARRIET: And what made it so rough?

JOHNATHAN: Things.

HARRIET: What sort of things? Were they bitter, like a lemon?

JOHNATHAN: Quite bitter.

HARRIET: How bitter?

JOHNATHAN: If biting into a lemon at first is especially bitter, imagine stuffing a whole one in your mouth.

HARRIET: That's awfully bitter.

JOHNATHAN: ... I got beat up by a senior.

HARRIET: A senior?

JOHNATHAN: A senior.

HARRIET: And what did you do to deserve that?

JOHNATHAN: What did I do? I did nothing!

HARRIET: Most of the time, people don't just go beating other people up without a motive.

JOHNATHAN: His brother calls me names. I threatened to beat him senseless if he called me a retard once more. Instead, his 18 year old brother performed it vice-versa.

HARRIET: That's horrible.

JOHNATHAN: It doesn't hurt now, though.

HARRIET: Of course it doesn't. Nothing hurts in paradise.

JOHNATHAN: ...

HARRIET: ...

JOHNATHAN: Do you believe that?

HARRIET: I do.

(JOHNATHAN stares blankly at HARRIET for a brief second, before he reattaches his gaze to the ocean.)

JOHNATHAN: Do you think we're in heaven?

HARRIET: If I was in heaven, how could I possibly return to earth every morning?

JOHNATHAN: That's true.

HARRIET: Yeah.

JOHNATHAN: ...

HARRIET: ...

JOHNATHAN: ...

HARRIET: Are you just a figment of my imagination? Are you just a piece of paradise that I am capable of conversing with?

JOHNATHAN: I could be.

HARRIET: That's an ambiguous answer.

JOHNATHAN: Well, I don't think I am. I mean, I'm pretty real. But you as well could easily be just a mere part of my dreaming.

HARRIET: Hmph. True. But don't you think dreaming is strange? Like, the concept of sleeping itself?

JOHNATHAN: What do you mean?

HARRIET: We change into special sleeping clothes and lay down in special sleeping beds, to do what? Hallucinate throughout unconsciousness for eight hours?

JOHNATHAN: Yeah, but then you arrive here. And I think this is a pretty nice place to be when you're unconscious for eight hours.

HARRIET: It never truly feels like eight hours have gone by.

JOHNATHAN: No, it doesn't. It's more like a half an hour.

HARRIET: Exactly.

JOHNATHAN: That's why it sucks so much when I have to wake up.

HARRIET: (sighing) Most people I know are afraid of the dark when they are trying to fall asleep. Honestly, I think I'm more afraid of the sunlight that wakes me up.

JOHNATHAN: I know a lot of people that dislike waking up in the morning. Usually, it's because they dread facing the day ahead of them. I have no issue with the day ahead of me. I just miss my time here.

HARRIET: As do I. But I never remember being here when I'm awake.

JOHNATHAN: Me neither.

HARRIET: I never remember any of my dreams.

JOHNATHAN: That's why I fear the daytime so much. Because, what if the next time I fall asleep, I don't return to Paradise? What if I never come back? I'll never remember this place. I'll never remember meeting you.

HARRIET: I think that's a bit heroic, in a way.

JOHNATHAN: Huh?

(As the light fades out, HARRIET and JOHNATHAN's voices continue.)

HARRIET: You face your fear of waking up every single day. Don't you think that takes extreme bravery?

JOHNATHAN: Yeah, I guess it's sort of courageous. In a way.

HARRIET: (quietly, as the sound of the ocean fades away) Yeah. In a way.

(Their conversation is interrupted by a loud alarm clock, continuing to beep for a few seconds as a single spotlight comes back on. The light shines on HARRIET, who now carries a stack of thick textbooks in her hand, sauntering down an empty sidewalk silently. Another spotlight appears above JOHNATHAN, who is now fully clothed. He still wears his Red Sox hat, which matches the color of the bicycle he rides. Seemingly lost in a daydream, he absentmindedly crashes into HARRIET, sending them both flailing to the ground clumsily.)

JOHNATHAN: I'm sorry, I-I wasn't looking where I was going. I really am sorry. Are you alright?

HARRIET: (scrambles to her feet, brushing off her outfit and offering an outstretched hand to help Johnathan up) Fine, fine. Don't worry.

JOHNATHAN: (gathers her books that are scattered over the sidewalk, politely declining her gesture and rising to his feet) I apologize again, but have I met you before? You seem familiar in an uncanny way, but I just can't put my finger on how I'd have known you.

HARRIET: (taking her books from his hands) No, it's alright. I was pondering the same thing. Do you, by chance, have any siblings?

JOHNATHAN: No, I'm sorry.

HARRIET: ...

JOHNATHAN: ...

HARRIET: ...

JOHNATHAN: Were you at the Independence Day Festival this year?

HARRIET: No, I wasn't.

JOHNATHAN: Oh. Uh, sorry then. I'm probably thinking of someone else.

HARRIET: Most likely. I'm Harriet.

JOHNATHAN: Johnathan. Pleasure to meet you.

HARRIET: You too... I, um, I'm going to be late for school.

JOHNATHAN: (grabbing his bike and positioning himself back on it) Me too. I'll see you around, hopefully.

HARRIET: You too!

(The spotlight/spotlights black out, as the sound of the ocean waves begin again, much calmer this time. The lights dim on only slightly, as JOHNATHAN's baseball cap rests solitarily on the beach sand.)

JOHNATHAN'S VOICE: Do you think we'll ever see each other again?

HARRIET'S VOICE: Of course I do. Tomorrow night.

SCENE TWO:

(A spotlight rises on MAX, sauntering onto the beach. She stumbles over the hat, then leans down to pick it up, confused by it's presence.)

MAX: What in God's name...

(ERIC enters, stopping himself abruptly at the sight of MAX.)

ERIC: (sarcastically) Hmph. Odd meeting you here.

MAX: (startled, spinning around to face him) Is this yours? (holds the hat out to Eric's view)

ERIC: Ew. Burn that.

MAX: Alright, I guess not. Yankees fan?

(ERIC nods, then crosses to the shore. He takes off his sneakers, tossing them carelessly behind him and allowing the sea foam to rush up to his bare feet. MAX tosses the hat into the ocean carelessly. They both stand still, engulfed in their own minds.)

ERIC: (staring into the ocean) Do you ever wonder where your Mom is? I mean, I'm sorry, that was rude. But, don't you-

MAX: No, it wasn't. Of course I do.

ERIC: ...Were you upset when she died?

MAX: I was only three.

ERIC: But... still.

MAX: Now? Yeah, I'm upset. In school, when people complain about their mothers and stuff. It annoys me. Like, it's not even the fact that they don't appreciate the mom they have that gets to me. It's the fact that I don't have a mother to complain about. I just figured out how to put eyeliner on last week. Most girls my age have been wearing eyeliner for years. Their moms taught them. And my dad's just so out of it. He doesn't even know where I am or worry about my whereabouts. It's like he's not even there half of the time -- oh, sorry. I didn't mean to...

ERIC: No, no. Don't worry.

MAX: I guess you can relate, huh?

ERIC: (softly) Kind of. Except my dad isn't just not there half of the time; he's not there all of the time.

MAX: I'm sorry. The war will end soon. I know it.

ERIC: I don't care when it ends. I only care about when he gets home.

MAX: I think you wonder about where your dad is more than I wonder where my mom is.

ERIC: I think so, too.

(A spotlight appears on MARCO as he enters, glancing between ERIC and MAX.)

MAX: You're late.

MARCO: You're early.

ERIC: Nah, you're late.

(MARCO shrugs, then crosses to MAX. He embraces her, then high-fives ERIC as a sign of greeting. MAX and MARCO sit down, cross-legged on the sand.)

MARCO: Sorry, I was up pretty late. I had a party.

MAX: Well, look at you. Marco, the party freak. The social butterfly. The popular kid. The be-

MARCO: (speaking quickly) I get it.

(ERIC, too, takes a seat next to MAX. MAX glides her fingertips over the clear water, aimlessly toying with the ripples she creates.)

MAX: (to MARCO) You never finished telling me what happened to that Johnathan kid. I had to wake up early yesterday. I was going to a volleyball practice at seven AM.

ERIC: You play volleyball?

MAX: Yeah. But I like tennis better.

MARCO: You play tennis?

MAX: Yes! Why is this such a surprise?

ERIC: You never mentioned it.

MAX: I never mentioned a lot of things.

MARCO: Point taken. I never mentioned a lot of things, either.

MAX: (flustered) Alright, continue with the Johnathan story.

ERIC: What's the Johnathan story?

MAX: Oh, you weren't here. I forgot.

ERIC: I didn't fall asleep. I pulled an all-nighter.

(ERIC stuffs his hands in his pocket and, to his surprise, pulls out a lighter, followed by a pack of cigarettes. He takes one out and lights one, placing it in his mouth.)

MAX: For no reason?

ERIC: I didn't do it purposely. I couldn't fall asleep.

(ERIC pulls out the cigarette, exhaling slowly as he leans against MAX's shoulder.)

MAX: Well, why not?

MARCO: Sometimes I don't fall asleep. A lot of times, actually. That's why I'm missing a lot. There's just so many things going on in my mind, so many regrets and ponders and worries and hopes. They keep me awake.

MAX: (spontaneously) I don't have many regrets.

MARCO: You're lucky.

MAX: Maybe I just think before I act.

MARCO: Maybe you do. Unfortunately, I don't.

ERIC: Can we get on with the Joseph story?

MARCO: Johnathan?

ERIC: Yeah, same thing.

MAX: Actually, no. If I called you Ethan instead of Eric, it wouldn't be the same thing.

MARCO: Whatever! Anyway, there's this kid in my grade and his name is Johnathan. And he's this big dweeb. He's an honor student and has these super high grades.

ERIC: So?

MARCO: So, kids make fun of him.

ERIC: That's not right.

MAX: There's lots in life that isn't deemed "right".

MARCO: (ignoring MAX) I used to get picked on because I was stupid. In, like, kindergarten the kids called me retarded. I don't think it ever left, because I didn't have many friends by middle school. My grades still sucked. But high school is a totally different ball game. I started making fun of this Johnathan guy, and /BAM/. I shot right up the social ladder.

ERIC: Why would you eve-

MAX: Stop interrupting!

MARCO: The other day, Johnathan told me that if I kept calling him names, he'd beat me up. I told my brother, and he beat Johnathan up instead.

MAX: ...The end?

MARCO: The end.

ERIC: I don't like that story.

MAX: Me neither.

MARCO: You guys don't get it, though. Nobody does. I had no friends. Nada. Zero. Zip. Zilch. Why should I /not/ be a little nasty to one kid out of billions, if it gives me the friends I long for?

ERIC: Because they aren't your real friends.

MARCO: You can't tell me that. You've never met them.

MAX: Eric's right. If they're only friends with you because you bully someone, then they're not your true friends.

MARCO: But what about my brother?

MAX AND ERIC: (in unison) Your brother?

MARCO: He thinks I'm a wimp. I feel like if I'm not hurting someone or showing how tough I am, he'll disapprove. He's very judgmental.

MAX: Marco, he's your brother. He loves you unconditionally, no matter how you act.

MARCO: You haven't met him.

ERIC: You don't need to meet people to understand them.

MAX: (suddenly) You know what I find amazing?

ERIC: What?

(The lights slowly dim out, as the calming sound of the crashing waves arises once more.)

MAX'S VOICE: The fact that we're all so different, but at the same time, we understand each other so easily.

MARCO'S VOICE: I think everyone in the world is capable of understanding one another. We just don't have the patience to try.

(The peaceful noise is interrupted by a sharp cry, as the lights flash on abruptly. JOHNATHAN cradles his arm to his chest, his face contorted in pain. He wears his baseball cap that  A cluster of teenagers stand to his side, towering over him as he is sprawled out on the floor. One chuckles, another kicks dirt in his face, etc. MARCO enters, shoving past the tiny crowd to take a look at what's going on. MAX'S VOICE fades in, over the abundance of teasing.)

MAX'S VOICE: If they're only friends with you because you bully someone, then they're not your true friends.

(MARCO stands still for a moment, glancing between JOHNATHAN and the kids. The children behind him stare skeptically at MARCO.)

MARCO: (to JOHNATHAN Hey, man. I was looking for you. I know you really wanted to see that new sci-fi movie, and I have nothing to do today. So, uh, it's playing at the Maine Street Theatre at six. You know, if you wanna' get that arm fixed and join me.

(The group of teens collectively take a step away from MARCO as crosses to JOHNATHAN and helps him up. He purposely ignores JOHNATHAN'S injured arm and avoids asking about it publicly.)

JOHNATHAN: Um, yeah. Sure... Thanks!

MARCO: No problem, man. Maybe - (notices his hat) Hey, you're a Red Sox fan? Me too.

JOHNATHAN: Huh?

MARCO: (gestures to JOHNATHAN's baseball cap) Nice hat.

JOHNATHAN: Oh! Thanks. I don't even like it, I guess I just have a lot of bad hair days, so I wear it often. (takes off hat and hands it to MARCO) Take it. You play baseball, anyway. I don't.

MARCO: Are you serious?

JOHNATHAN: I mean... If you don't want it, it's cool. I was just offering...

MARCO: No way! No, I love it. Thanks.

(JOHNATHAN takes the hat and gives it to MARCO. MARCO puts it on.)

(One child in the crowd mumbles an insulting nickname as the two begin to walk off, in the opposite direction of the crowd. MARCO stops, then crosses back to the child. MARCO grabs him by the collar of his shirt, angrily.)

MARCO: (infuriated) Say that again and I'll punch your lights out, I swear to God!

(JOHNATHAN pulls MARCO away, though MARCO continues to gaze sternly at the now extremely intimidated boy. Lights fade out, as the nautical sounds of the crashing waves fade in.)

JOHNATHAN'S VOICE: That kid that kept calling me names asked me to the movies today, in front of all of his friends. Do you find that odd?

HARRIET'S VOICE: I only find it odd that nobody asked to tag along.