Gruesome Playground Injuries; Animals Out of Paper; Bengal Tiger at the Baghdad Zoo

by Rajiv Joseph

  ANDY: Really? Where?

  ILANA: Nagasaki.

  ANDY: Nagasaki?! Nagasaki, Japan?

  ILANA: Some people I met back in the nineties. During the Bug Wars. Some of the best folders in Japan.

  ANDY: Yeah!

  ILANA: But it’s really soon. Next month.

  ANDY: Are you going to go?

  ILANA: Oh, absolutely. And the interesting thing is, I can bring a guest.

  ANDY: Really?!

  ILANA: Yes, they’ll provide room and board for a guest . . .

  ANDY: Ilana! Wow! I mean . . . That’s . . . so . . . I’ve never even been out of the country before!

  ILANA: I was thinking about taking Suresh.

  ANDY: Oh. Oh yeah, you should definitely take Suresh.

  ILANA: I mean, he’s my apprentice now. He’s doing his senior project with me. I should take him.

  ANDY: Of course.

  ILANA: Andy, I’m sorry. I just thought—

  ANDY: No! Jeez! Silly Andy!

  Sometimes I just get ahead of myself.

  Andy picks up another piece of bread. Lifts it to his mouth, but then puts it down. He’s trying not to show his disappointment.

  ILANA: It’s not that I wouldn’t want you to come . . .

  ANDY: No! I mean, of course.

  ILANA: It would be a really great experience for Suresh. He’ll see some things he’s never seen before.

  ANDY: Yeah. It would be great for him to see that, too. Those things.

  ILANA: I think it’s best. Don’t you think?

  ANDY: Of course. Absolutely of course.

  Nagasaki!

  (raises his glass) Here’s to Nagasaki.

  Ilana raises her glass.

  ILANA: Here’s to you, Fro Dog.

  Andy laughs. They drink. Andy finishes his glass in a huge gulp. He pours another glass.

  ANDY: Suresh’s been calling me that since his freshman year. Everyone at school calls me Fro Dog now.

  All my life, I’ve never been cool.

  But I’m a little cool now.

  Suresh made me a little cool.

  I mean, I’m not really cool. But I’m Fro Dog. “Fro Dog” is a thousand times cooler than “Mr. Froling.”

  ILANA: I think you’re cool.

  ANDY: No, you don’t.

  But it’s okay, I don’t mind.

  (quotes) “So much of what I am is what I’ve lost.”

  ILANA: (not registering)

  Mm-hm.

  ANDY: I love that.

  ILANA: Yeah.

  What?

  ANDY: That’s you. That’s from your book! “So much of what I am is what I’ve lost.” I love that!

  ILANA: Oh . . . oh yeah!

  ANDY: You’re amazing, you know that?

  ILANA: (quietly) Yeah.

  I mean.

  Yeah, right.

  Why do you like that book so much?

  ANDY: What are you talking about? It’s my favorite book!

  ILANA: But it’s not like . . . literature. It’s not something you read for wisdom.

  ANDY: I do.

  ILANA: Andy, I’m not a writer, okay? I’m not a writer, I’m an origamist.

  ANDY: But your essays . . .

  ILANA: You’re probably the only person who’s ever bought it, much less read it, much less memorized it.

  ANDY: Well, it is the number-two best-selling origami book in the country.

  ILANA: Number two, huh?

  ANDY: But it’s one of a kind.

  ILANA: My ex-husband . . . he copyedited my book. He really, really copyedited it.

  ANDY: He did? Okay. So?

  ILANA: The ideas were all mine. But I wrote some notes on each one, and then Mike, he, well . . . he wrote it out. I mean . . . those words you’ve memorized . . . those aren’t my words. Those are Mike’s words.

  ANDY: Well, that’s surprising.

  ILANA: I wasn’t trying to deceive anyone.

  ANDY: It’s still your book. It’s still the things you lost. Why they’re

  important to you. They’re still your memories. And so it’s still you.

  ILANA: You read my book, I read yours. Yours is totally true, mine is ghostwritten. I know everything about you and you still don’t know anything about me.

  ANDY: So tell me something.

  Ilana thinks.

  ILANA: Okay.

  Okay, so . . .

  I haven’t folded a piece of paper since Demba ran away.

  ANDY: You haven’t? Why not?

  ILANA: I don’t know. I just can’t do it anymore.

  ANDY: But you’re the best folder ever.

  ILANA: No I’m not.

  ANDY: So can’t you fold now? Can you fold this napkin?

  ILANA: No, I can’t.

  ANDY: Try. Just one fold. One fold to start.

  ILANA: No, please, I can’t.

  Awkward beat. They both drink their wine.

  ANDY: Look, I know you read my book, so there’s not a whole lot of mystery that I’m bringing to the table here? But I just want you to know something, and I’m speaking right now as a guy who’s not himself, and as a guy who does not normally drink wine and is now on glass three: I think there’s a good chance that I could be somebody very good for you. I think I could be the guy who comes into your life and helps you put it back together.

  I am sitting right here, and I am a guy who will do anything for you, anything.

  ILANA: That’s very sweet.

  ANDY: “Very sweet”?

  That’s the best I got, Ilana. I can’t do better than that.

  ILANA: I’m sorry.

  I’m just . . .

  (re: the chandeliered hearts) Look at these stupid hearts.

  I hate Valentine’s Day.

  I’m a horrible person for this day.

  I’m probably the wrong person you should be with.

  ANDY: Ilana . . .

  You’re not, um . . . You not breaking up with me, are you?

  ILANA: I don’t know.

  ANDY: Because it’s Valentine’s Day, and that would really suck.

  She smiles at him.

  ANDY: I’m trying to be more brave and impulsive. You make me want to be that way.

  ILANA: It’s good to be brave and impulsive.

  ANDY: Okay, then . . .

  . . . Marry me.

  ILANA: What?

  ANDY: I swear to God, marry me. I know this is like our third date, but I would marry you right now. Seriously. Brave and impulsive. Brave and impulsive. Ilana, marry me.

  ILANA: Andy, you need to stop drinking wine.

  ANDY: This isn’t the wine. Look, I know it’s crazy, but what the heck. Life is short, opportunities are scarce, love is rare. Marry me.

  ILANA: You’re serious.

  ANDY: I’m serious.

  ILANA: I’m not even divorced yet.

  ANDY: Okay.

  ILANA: So I can’t marry you right now.

  ANDY: But that’s not a no.

  ILANA: It’s not a no. It’s just reality.

  ANDY: That’s good. I’ll take not a no. I’ll take it.

  She smiles at him and kisses him.

  ILANA: Nicest guy ever.

  (beat) I have to pee.

  She exits. Andy looks after her, takes out his book, writes in it.

  Scene 2.

  A hotel room in Nagasaki. Night. Suresh stands by a window, listening to his iPod/iPhone. We can hear his hip-hop. His cell rings, and he switches the music off and answers.

  SURESH: Yeah.

  Hey.

  Yeah, I’m here.

  How’s dad?

  He did?

  Well what did you do?

  Why not?

  Rahel, what’s your problem? I ask you to take care of one thing for one week and you . . .

  No, you shut up. How difficult is this? Huh?

  Hang up then! Fine, hang up then! What?

  A knock at the door. Suresh goes to it, opens it, and walks away. Ilana enters.
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  SURESH: (still on phone) No. I put everything in stupid Tupperware in the freezer and all you have to do is . . .

  Well then do it then!

  Forget it, I’m going. I hope you both starve.

  Hello?

  Hello?

  Suresh hangs up and sits on the bed.

  ILANA: (concerned) Are you okay?

  SURESH: Me? Yeah, I’m cool. My stupid sister can’t take control of the house for one week, is all.

  ILANA: Where have you been?

  SURESH: I been laying low.

  ILANA: What happened to you today?

  SURESH: Nothing happened.

  ILANA: Where’d you go?

  SURESH: Nowhere. I was in the garden.

  ILANA: You missed the award ceremony. They gave you an award, but you weren’t there.

  SURESH: I didn’t feel like going. What’s your problem?

  ILANA: I’ve been looking for you all day! You scared me.

  I just didn’t know where you were.

  What were you doing in the garden?

  SURESH: I was looking at the fish.

  ILANA: You were looking at fish.

  SURESH: Yeah.

  ILANA: The whole day, looking at fish.

  SURESH: I just felt like it, okay?

  ILANA: Is this because of what happened this morning? At the memorial?

  SURESH: Nothing happened at the memorial.

  ILANA: You made that man cry.

  SURESH: No I didn’t.

  ILANA: Yes you did.

  SURESH: No I did not.

  Suresh goes to the window.

  Ilana goes up to him. She touches his back. He recoils, as if she burned him.

  SURESH: Whoa! What! Don’t touch me, okay?!

  ILANA: Okay! I’m sorry! I only . . . I’m sorry, I’m sorry, okay?

  SURESH: What do you want? I just want to . . . just don’t do that.

  ILANA: Suresh, I’m sorry.

  SURESH: Yeah. Just . . .

  ILANA: I’m sorry I touched you.

  Suresh sits on the bed. And then he looks at Ilana.

  SURESH: I didn’t mean to do that.

  You can touch my back. I’m not a freak.

  ILANA: No. You’re not. I’m sorry.

  Can I sit down here?

  SURESH: Yeah.

  She does. They’re quiet for a moment.

  ILANA: You spent all day at the fish pond?

  SURESH: Pretty much.

  ILANA: What were the fish like?

  SURESH: They would get into these feeding frenzies. I had pellets.

  ILANA: You were feeding them?

  SURESH: Big orange and white fish. Koi fish.

  I never seen so many fishlike that.

  I’m all about the fish pond.

  (beat) You think when it happened, all the fish died too? I was wondering that when I was looking at the fish pond. You think they all died?

  ILANA: I guess they must have.

  SURESH: I mean, it was radioactive fire, right? Everywhere. But if they were deep down enough . . . they would have been okay, right?

  ILANA: I don’t know how deep you have to go to avoid something like that.

  SURESH: Me neither. But I bet you could go deep enough. The smart fish probably did. There were some big old dudes swimming in there today. They would just chill, let the pellets come to them.

  I loved those fish, you know?

  They’re like rolling around in the water, jumping on each other, feeding, feeding . . . It was like a rumble of activity, and the water’s all green.

  ILANA: It sounds nice.

  SURESH: The fish went away after I ran out of pellets and it got dark. But I could see the moon in the water and everything.

  I can see why people have fish ponds.

  I can see why people look at fish.

  ILANA: It seemed like you were . . . I don’t know . . . disturbed this morning. I mean, the memorial. You didn’t even speak after we left it.

  SURESH: It’s supposed to be disturbing.

  ILANA: But what you did there . . . You understand why people were staring at you, and why, you know, that old man . . . how what you did made that man cry today, and how . . .

  SURESH: (suddenly angry) I didn’t make him cry.

  (calms immediately) It’s an emotional place. The place makes people cry.

  ILANA: What you did there, what you folded.

  SURESH: I was just folding.

  ILANA: No you weren’t.

  You weren’t just folding. Tell me why you folded those ravens.

  SURESH: They weren’t ravens, they were crows. Or blackbirds.

  It didn’t mean anything. It was just something different than all those stupid little paper doves.

  ILANA: It meant something.

  SURESH: No it didn’t.

  ILANA: Yes it does. Yes it does, see, you have this intense vision but you don’t understand why you’re folding what you are.

  How you made their heads. The way their heads turned away.

  SURESH: It’s better to give a bird something to do.

  ILANA: It meant something. You wouldn’t have done it if it didn’t mean anything.

  SURESH: For you.

  ILANA: Yes, for me. For that man. For everyone who was there watching you fold those birds and not speaking, not saying anything. When you fold paper, Suresh, people watch. They can’t take their eyes off of you. And then when you fold something like those birds . . . it touches people.

  SURESH: You’re so stupid.

  ILANA: Why? Why am I so stupid?

  SURESH: Kids fold doves. They go there at the epicenter and fold doves. For peace. Or whatever.

  ILANA: Yeah. And you unfolded them and folded these ravens.

  SURESH: So, they’ve already been folded as something else, they have weird creases in wrong places. It gives them a wrinkled texture. They look old or something.

  ILANA: They looked more than old. They looked . . . distraught. They looked heartbroken.

  SURESH: (angry) They looked hungry, okay? Not distraught, not sad, just fucking hungry.

  ILANA: Okay okay . . .

  SURESH: I tried to fold the stupid things to make them look hungry.

  ILANA: Why?

  SURESH: I don’t know why! Because the birds have nothing to eat. There’s nothing there to eat, nothing there to feed them or, what, I don’t know. I don’t know, it’s stupid, it’s fucking retarded. I’m so sick of this origami shit.

  ILANA: Why? Why are you so angry?

  SURESH: This is the stupidest shit in the world. Doves. And paper cranes. And a whole conference and everything, all just for origami. What a waste of time.

  ILANA: It’s not a waste of time.

  SURESH: Whatever. Like you even fold anyhow. I’ve never seen you fold a single thing. Supposed to be your apprentice or something, and what have you even taught me or shown me? Nothing. Don’t talk to me about how awesome origami is if you can’t even fold one piece of stupid paper.

  They are silent for a moment. Suresh stares out the window. Long beat. Ilana watches him as he stares out the window.

  SURESH: My mom got hit by a car.

  That’s how she died.

  ILANA: I know.

  SURESH: Those kids fold doves as if it means anything. It doesn’t mean anything.

  And I’m at the epicenter today and I fold some stupid birds and everyone acts like I did something profound or meaningful, but it’s not, it’s not profound, it doesn’t mean anything. It doesn’t mean anything except that I know how to fold paper.

  Fuck all this. I’m serious. Fuck all this.

  Ilana picks up a square piece of folding paper from the bed, looks at it, pushes it toward Suresh.

  ILANA: Look at this.

  Look at this paper. It has no memory, it’s just flat.

  But fold it, even once, and suddenly it remembers something.

  And then with each fold, another memory, another experience, and they build up to make some
thing complicated.

  The paper must forget that it was ever flat, ever a simple square.

  It probably can’t remember it’s still in one piece.

  Probably feels like too many things have happened to it. It’s all twisted into something so far from what it used to be.

  I guess it could unfold and become flat again. But it would never be what it was.

  When it was untouched.

  Folds leave scars.

  SURESH: Show me your fist.

  Ilana puts her fist out. Suresh puts his hand around it.

  SURESH: Tomorrow, we should check out the fish.

  ILANA: We should.

  He holds her fist.

  SURESH: Your heart’s not beating.

  Ilana starts squeezing her fist like a heartbeat, like Suresh did.

  Suresh takes her fist in both hands. He holds her fist and then kisses it.

  He looks at her and leans in and kisses her.

  SURESH: I’m sorry.

  ILANA: No . . .

  SURESH: I just . . . I don’t know.

  ILANA: It’s okay.

  Beat. They look at each other.

  SURESH: Can I kiss you again?

  ILANA: I don’t know.

  No.

  SURESH: Why not?

  ILANA: You don’t want to kiss me.

  SURESH: Yeah I do.

  He kisses her again.

  SURESH: This city is crazy.

  He tries to kiss her again. But she backs away. She takes his face in her hands and she kisses his forehead.

  SURESH: I’m sorry . . . I . . .

  ILANA: Shh. It’s okay. It’s okay.

  Suresh falls into her. Ilana holds him, folding him into her, close to her. She holds him, stroking his face. She looks at him, and then out toward the city.

  Scene 3.

  Ilana’s studio.

  Andy has prepared a little meal. Basket of bread, some cheese, fruit, wine. A tablecloth on the table, flowers in a vase. He’s putting the finishing touches on it when Suresh enters.

  ANDY: Oh.

  SURESH: Oh. What up Fro Dog?

  ANDY: Suresh? What are you doing here?

  SURESH: I don’t know. I just got back from Japan.

  ANDY: Where’s Ilana?

  SURESH: I thought she’d be here by now.

  ANDY: Didn’t you come from the airport together?