Written by Joe Janes
6/3/09
136 of 365
CAST:
Robinson Crusoe, 40s
Friday, 30s
Smedley, 40s
Cornwallace, 40s
(Lights up on Robinson Crusoe. He is in his makeshift hut writing on parchment at his makeshift table.)
ROBINSON
Dear Father. This is yet another letter from your long lost son, Robinson. By my calculations, I have been stranded on this deserted island for (He picks up a stick and feels the notches along the side) twenty years and three months. The only thing that gets me through the long, suffering days are thoughts of one day reuniting with my family. Island life is dreary and ever so lonely. Just the other day-(Friday enters and sets a drink on Robinson’s table.)
What is that?
FRIDAY
Mango iced tea. Made it myself. Picked and squeezed the mangoes by hand. Brewed the tea by the fire. Invented refrigeration to make ice cubes-ROBINSON (sips)
Oh. Here. Take it back. FRIDAY
What’s the matter?ROBINSON
It’s too tart. Needs sugar.FRIDAY
Ah, one lump or two.ROBINSON
Three. Give me three.(Friday opens a sugar container in the hut and puts three sugar cubes into the tea and swirls it around. He hands it back to Robinson.)
FRIDAY
How is it, now?ROBINSON (sipping)
Heavenly. Just heavenly.FRIDAY
You’re welcome.ROBINSON
Where was I? Oh, yes… Just the other day, I found myself holding a conversation with a tree of all things; so yearning was I for civilized company. Day in and day out, while awake and while in slumber, I am surrounded by dumb animals and ignorant savages. I have acquired a manservant of sorts. His name is Friday, named after the day I rescued him from the clutches of cannibals. Of course, it’s not his real name. His real name is something unpronounceable and comparable to the grinding of machinery. Nonetheless, he is grateful for me saving his soulless existence. To pass the time, I have taken on teaching Friday the English language and the teachings of Christianity. It helps take the sting out of not having anyone with whom to converse… I’m done with you.FRIDAY
Okay.(He exits)
ROBINSON
Where was I? Oh, yes… Just the other day, I found myself holding a conversation with a tree of all things; so yearning was I for civilized company.(Cornwallace and Smedley approach. They are English explorers.)
CORNWALLACE
Top of the morning, young man.SMEDLEY
I say, good day to you, sir. Good day, indeed.ROBINSON
Can I help you?CORNWALLACE
Oh, I do hate to impose.SMEDLEY
We wouldn’t want in any way to put you out.ROBINSON
Very well. (He returns to his writing.)CORNWALLACE
It’s just that we seem to be a wee bit lost.SMEDLEY
Just a wee.CORNWALLACE
We left our ship off the beach on the eastern side of the island. Now that it’s close to noon-SMEDLEY
We have no idea whatsoever which way is east.(They laugh. Robinson points in the direction opposite of which they came without looking up from his letter writing.)
CORNWALLACE
Ah, very good, then.SMEDLEY
Sorry to bother you.CORNWALLCE
Say, I must admit, I did not expect to run into another Englishman on this island. SMEDLEY
Have you been stranded here?ROBINSON
Obviously.CORNWALLACE
Good heavens. For how long?ROBINSON
Well, if you must know. I have been alone on this island for over twenty years. (Friday enters with a small cupcake on a plate and puts it on Crusoe’s table.)
FRIDAY
I invented cupcakes.SMEDLEY
Twenty years without speaking to another soul. CORNWALACE
Positively dreadful.FRIDAY
Can I get either of you gentlemen a mango iced tea?SMEDLEY
Mango? Ice? In tea?CORNWALLACE
Savage.ROBINSON
These men were just leaving.SMEDLEY
We could give you a lift.CORNWALLACE
It wouldn’t be any trouble at all. We have plenty of room and food.ROBINSON
Which way are you heading?SMEDLEY
On to Venezuela.ROBINSON
Sorry. Wrong direction. I need to get home to England.CORNWALLACE
Oh, well. Perhaps on the way back.ROBINSON
Perhaps. SMEDLEY
Well, best of luck to you.CORNWALLACE
Best of luck.FRIDAY
Please take me with you.SMEDLEY
Uh-CORNWALLACE
Let’s go, Smedley. (They rush off) Sorry, old man. The ship is… very crowded.(Robinson continues writing as Friday just stands there watching them leave.)
ROBINSON
I dream, father, feverishly, of some day sleeping in our old house in my old bed. Give my best to mother. Regards. Your son. Robinson.(Robinson folds up the parchment and quickly addresses it. He snaps his fingers. Friday quickly provides a stamp for it. Robinson hands it to Friday.)
ROBINSON (continuing)
Drop this off at the post office for me, Friday, and when you return we’ll continue your conversion to Christianity.FRIDAY
Be right back.(Robinson takes a sip of his mango iced tea and sighs.)
ROBINSON
Life is so cruel. (Pronounced ‘croo-ELL’)(Lights fade)
