Catalina Florina Florescu
Hoboken, New Jersey, United States

CHARACTERS:

Eve
Ana

TIME AND SETTING:

Now, here. Two women are seated on a bench. That’s all you need to know. Plus that their name is a palindrome. Mirrored names. Make what you want out of this.

EVE: What is the taste of water, dear?

ANA: Excuse me?

EVE: Hard of hearing?

ANA: What?

EVE: Hard of hearing?

ANA: No! Stop that. (She takes off one of her hearing aids and shows it to the other woman) I hear fine. I mean. You see . .  Aging is no fun.

EVE: How old are you?

ANA: Don’t you know that a woman should never reveal her age?

EVE: Well, if a man asks, that’s when a woman shouldn’t reveal her age.

ANA: What’s the difference?

EVE: Don’t know. That’s what I heard.

ANA: I’m 60. Today is my birthday. I am waiting for the bus to take me places.

EVE: You’re funny.

ANA: Hysterical.

They look at each other. Maybe like observing each other for the first time.

EVE: Am I real?

ANA: Do you mean like if I can see you? That would be the second stupid question you asked.

EVE: Thanks, what was the first one?

ANA: I believe you sat down, looked at me, sighed, and then asked something about the taste of water.

EVE: Oh, I see, you studied me.

ANA: Not really. I’ve been on this bench for 3 hours. I have this ritual on my birthday.

EVE: What ritual?

ANA: To meet strangers.

EVE: How many?

ANA: How many what?

EVE: Today, how many did you meet?

ANA: A few. It must be the weather.

EVE: What’s wrong with the weather?

ANA: They said there would be a storm later today between the hours of 2:15:32 and 3:45:07. (Adds as if that could disambiguate:) PM.

EVE: My, my, precision, precision, precision.

They giggle.

ANA: Look at the sky, though. It’s baby blue. Which reminds me . . .

ANA looks for something in her purse. Takes a phone out. Starts typing one letter at a time. Very slowly. The other woman is curious but keeps her cool. Not for long, though.

EVE stretches her legs and arms. Yawns voraciously. The other gives her a look but goes back to her typing.

EVE: Are you done?

ANA: With?

EVE: I don’t know. That memoir.

ANA: Ah. It’s just a reminder to myself to buy something.

EVE: What, a dream house? Judging by the many letters you typed it’s something quite exact.

ANA: If you must know, my husband died on my birthday. He loved baby blue and he made me promise that I should try something that color every year. Buy a dress, drink something with blue Curaçao. You know, simple things. Do them, keep a diary, and think of him.

EVE: Nice.

ANA: This is why I sit on this bench. At some point someone has a crazy idea. You just helped me.

EVE: Thanks. (Perplexed) Like, how?

ANA: You asked if I knew how the water tasted. Towards the end, my husband was . . . Well, I’ll spare you the details. Imagine a body dying in the same bed where the man made love. He could not taste water. I tried to be supportive. I used to go into the kitchen and drink water from my palms. I couldn’t say I knew what was the taste of it. It did not feel special. Why did you ask that?

EVE: Oh, it’s nothing.

ANA: Please.

EVE: Well, I have had this cough and nothing that I do helps. I have had so many lozenges, teas, honey, cough syrup, mint drops, chewable vitamin C, soups that, if I have a sip of water, I can’t taste it anymore. And I LOVE water.

ANA: Sorry, I just don’t get what’s so special about it.

EVE: Aqua vitae. (Beat) I know this cough cannot last forever.

ANA: Have you seen a doctor?

EVE: Yes, a doctor, a pharmacist, and now you.

ANA: Excuse me?

EVE: I don’t know why I said that.

ANA: It happens. Words get out of us and we can’t delete them.

EVE: I guess.

ANA: Like the other day, I said to this man who was sitting exactly where you sit right now, “Excuse me, do you have the time?” And instead of answering me, guess what he did.

EVE: What?

ANA: He gave me his wristwatch. And I said, “What am I supposed to do with it?” And he said, “I thought you wanted to have the time.”

EVE: I don’t get it.

ANA: Me either. So, I asked him. And he said, “Relax, it’s just a joke. I thought you wanted to have the time.” Like, really, who can HAVE the time? Silly, right?

EVE: Ah, he meant in the literal sense of the word.

ANA (Gestures): To have the time. Whatever!

EVE: Look, it’s coming.

ANA: What?

EVE: The bus.

ANA: Ah, that’s not the one I am waiting for.

EVE: That’s the only one that stops here.

ANA: Nope.

EVE: Yes, look over there. It says “Timeline for 123.” That’s the only bus that stops here.

ANA: I’m waiting for bus 321.

EVE: I don’t know what are you waiting for. It does not stop here.

ANA: Yes.

EVE: No.

ANA: Yes.

EVE: No! No!

A moment.

EVE: Calm down. Where do you want to go?

ANA: I don’t know.

EVE: Take a deep breath, it’s your birthday, be a good girl.

The 123 bus stops. No one gets off. It leaves.

ANA: Wasn’t that your bus?

EVE: It’s fine. I’ll take the next one.

ANA: There is no next one.

EVE: Of course there is. It’s not midnight. Then they stop.

ANA: But the storm . . . the storm is . . . is coming.

EVE: No, it’s not. It’s 4 pm. The sky is baby blue. Are you okay?

ANA: The storm is coming. I forgot to feed the cat. I left the window open. The cat may escape. (No change in her tone) The cat! The cat! Oh my God, the cat is dead.

EVE: I don’t think you are okay. Give me your phone.

ANA: Why?

EVE: To call . . . Could someone come to pick you up?

ANA: My cat.

EVE: Be serious.

ANA: My cat. But my cat is dead.

EVE: Fine, don’t give me the phone. I have to wait for the bus anyway.

ANA: Where are you going?

EVE: I’m going to see a play.

ANA: Lovely. Which play?

EVE: Romeo and Juliet.

ANA: Will it ever end?

EVE: Excuse me?

ANA: This play. There’s nothing new. They die. Like idiots. Not like my cat. Someone should write a play about my cat. How my precious cat died.

EVE: Do you even have a cat?

ANA: Had.

EVE: Did you have a cat?

ANA: Maybe. (A bit childish) I don’t want to tell you. I don’t know you.

EVE: True. You did tell me it was your birthday and that your husband . . .

ANA: Did you meet my husband?

EVE: Oh my God! You are batshit (gestures crazy).

ANA: I am perfectly fine. Everybody knew my husband.

EVE: Is that so?

ANA: Of course.

EVE: What was his name?

ANA: Pete.

EVE: Pete Jr, the great, the mighty. . . , Pete what?

ANA: Just Pete.

EVE: Never mind.

ANA: He was a star.

EVE: I’m sure.

ANA: He serenaded all beautiful women of the city.

EVE: Lucky me, I am not.

ANA: Yes, of course you are. All women are beautiful!

EVE (Trying to play her game): Well, let’s just say I met Pete.

ANA (Excited): Yes!

EVE: What do you want to know?

ANA: How was he?

EVE: How was . . . ?

ANA: In bed, silly.

EVE: Oh, he was the best. Sorry for my indiscretion.

ANA: Did he bring you flowers?

EVE: Always.

ANA: Which kind?

EVE: Roses.

ANA: That son of a bitch! He never brought me flowers. He said they would die too soon.

EVE: Why did he die?

ANA: How should I know?

EVE: Didn’t you say. . . ?

ANA: I don’t know what you heard. (Turns her head in the opposite direction. After a few seconds,) Do I know you from somewhere?

EVE: No. I am not famous.

ANA: My name is Ana. So nice to talk to someone.

EVE: I’m sorry, but my bus is coming.

ANA: I see no bus.

EVE: Well, that’s fine. I’ll walk.

ANA: Too bad. We could have kept each other company.

EVE: Another time.

ANA: What are the chances to meet again?

EVE: Slim. Like today’s storm.

ANA: Exactly. Stay. Please.

EVE: I gotta go. I am late.

ANA: Late for what?

EVE: Theater.

ANA: Ah, forget about theater. It’s going to be there tomorrow.

EVE: I have nonrefundable tickets.

ANA: Tickets? Are you going with someone?

EVE: Yes. I’m late.

ANA: How lucky. To have someone. Go, hurry up.

EVE: Bye. Eat cake.

ANA: Why?

EVE: It’s your birthday, isn’t it?

EVE leaves. It becomes foggy. Like in a dream. Like on stage. Like in who wants to get old and lonely?!

ANA: The taste of water. (Takes her phone. Dictates to it:) What is the taste of water? (Puts the phone back in her purse) That’s a good icebreaker. I should use it next time. How do I look? (Takes a mirror out of her pocket. A lipstick. Sings something. Stops because she forgot parts of the lyrics. Resumes from where she interrupted herself. She still can’t remember the lyrics but, instead of stopping, she ad-libs)

End of play.