Week 40, Day 277 - "Dayhawks"

“Dayhawks”

Written by Joe Janes

10/22/09

277 of 365

Cast

Bernie, 40s

Len, 30s

(Lights up on a diner. Len is behind the counter cleaning shelves we cannot see. Bernie, in a dark suit and hat, enters. He walks with a slight limp. Len keeps his eye on him. Bernie keeps his eye on a spot outside the diner. He takes a seat at the counter, again, without looking at Len. He knocks on the counter. Len produces a cup of coffee. Bernie grabs it and takes a sip while his attention is still outside on something across the street. Bernie puts the mug back on the counter and taps again. Len produces a small decanter of cream and a sugar dispenser. Bernie points out the window until Len gets the hint and looks out. Bernie quickly adds cream and sugar to his coffee and takes another sip.)

BERNIE

Okay.

(Bernie goes back to looking out as Len goes back to looking at Bernie.)

LEN

I don’t even know what I’m watching.

BERNIE

Did you see anything at all?

LEN

No.

BERNIE

You did good.

(Len grabs a menu from under the counter and sets it in front of Bernie.)

BERNIE (continuing)

I ain’t hungry.

LEN

Burger and fries, then?

BERNIE

I ain’t hungry. I ate before I came.

LEN

What kind of jackass eats before coming to a diner?

(Len takes the menu back and walks off stage for a moment. Bernie keeps looking out. Bernie sees something. He takes out a small notepad and jots something down.)

LEN (re-enters)

What did I miss? The pope ride by on a unicycle?

BERNIE

Just doing my job.

LEN

Yeah. That’s what you’ve said every day this week. I wonder what the police think about your job.

BERNIE

I’m a dick.

LEN

No kidding.

BERNIE

My job is to keep an eye on that office across the street. There’s a secretary who works there who may or may not have loose bloomers. Her husband wants me to find out.

LEN

You think her bloomers are loose?

BERNIE

The way she’s built, ain’t nothing loose on that ship. But I think her boss may be swabbing her decks.

LEN

The brunette with the caboose.

BERNIE

That’s the one.

LEN

She walks by the window and I have to stop whatever I’m doing. Be a shame if that train only had one rider.

BERNIE

I like her better as a ship.

LEN

You’re the pro.

BERNIE

She ever come in here?

LEN

A dame like that? Never. If she came in here, I’d remove the stool she sat on, take it home, get it drunk and make love to it. (Bernie) What?

BERNIE

Stick to trains.

LEN

You gonna sit there all day and only drink one cup of coffee?

BERNIE

I’m here until she’s not there. Have to earn my fifty bucks a day.

LEN

How can you drink coffee all day and never get and go to the bathroom?

BERNIE

Thank Hitler.

LEN

I’d rather not.

BERNIE

Caught some shrapnel from a kraut grenade in a very bad place. I fight the Nazis and get thanked with the ability to pee through a rubber tube into a small bottle strapped to my leg.

LEN

You sit there and pee right there at my counter?

BERNIE

Any time I like.

LEN

You peeing right now?

BERNIE

Maybe I am, maybe I’m not. (He smiles at Len and quite possibly is relieving himself while doing it. Len looks away and can see the woman.)

LEN

Hey, Niagra. It’s dreamboat.

(Bernie sees her, too, and takes out his notebook, again. Len exits.) There she is, again. Filing. Filing very slowly. Very, very slowly.

(Bernie continues to watch and scribble. He stops. She has apparently moved away. He puts the notebook back in his jacket and sips more coffee. Len returns with a plate, a hamburger and fries. He sets it down in front of Bernie.)

BERNIE (continuing)

What’s this?

LEN

Just doing my job.

(Len sets down the bill. Steps back and crosses his arms. Bernie goes back to watching the office as he taps on the counter. Len produces a bottle of ketchup and salt and pepper. Bernie points. Len takes over being lookout as Bernie dresses his food. Lights fade.)

Week 17, Day 115 - "Nighthawks"

“Nighthawks”
Written by Joe Janes
5/13/09
115 of 365

CAST:
Deckard, 40s
Rachael, 30s
Sebastian, 40s
Tyrell, 40s

(Lights up on a diner on a diner in Greenwich Village, New York, 2042. Deckard and Rachael sit together at the counter. To their far right, with his back to the audience, is Tyrell reading a handheld digitized newspaper. Sebastian is behind the counter, washing some cups in a sink unseen to us. Although it is 2042, their style of dress echoes fashion from a hundred years earlier.)

SEBASTIAN

Hunh?

DECKARD

Say what?

SEBASTIAN

I thought you said something.

DECKARD

I didn’t say anything. I don’t have anything to say.

TYRELL

Surprised you’re open, Sebastian.

SEBASTIAN

Where else am I going to be? It’s just another night.

TYRELL

Look at it out there. It’s a ghost town.

DECKARD

What did you expect?

TYRELL

Thought it would be different. Swarms of people. Looting. Freaking out, you know.

DECKARD

About twenty years too late for freaking out. Everybody knows it’s too late. Nothing to do but stay in the shadows.

SEBASTIAN

You want more coffee?

TYRELL

Yeah.

(Sebastian takes Tyrell’s cup and fills it at an urn.)

SEBASTIAN

How about you?

DECKARD

I’m fine.

SEBASTIAN

The lady?

RACHAEL

No, thank you.

SEBASTIAN

You haven’t touched it. Want me to warm it up for you?

RACHAEL

No. Really. I’m fine.

(Sebastian gives Tyrell his cup while indicating to Rachael over his shoulder. Tyrell gets his drift.)

RACHAEL (continuing)

How much time do we have?

(She looks at Deckard who looks over at Tyrell.)

TYRELL

Ah, this piece of crap ain’t saying exactly. Critical mass, darkness, cold, blah-blah-blah. Could all still be a load of horseshit.

SEBASTIAN

I’d settle of an actual load. Never got to see a horse.

TYRELL

Beautiful animal. Dumb as a bag of bags. But, just…beautiful. Saw one at the zoo. When I was a kid.

RACHAEL

I rode one once.

DECKARD

Rachael…

SEBASTIAN

You did not.

RACHAEL

I did. A black stallion. His name was Nighthawk. On my uncle’s farm. Just outside St. Louis. It was thrilling.

(They all look at her in disbelief, except Deckard.)

RACHAEL (continuing)

He was real, I tell ya’. You believe me, don’t you?

DECKARD

Of course, I do. Of course, I do. Hey, Sebastian, guess I’ll have a reload of this burnt rocket fuel you’re peddling.

SEBASTIAN

Sure thing.

(Sebastian refills the coffee and returns it to Deckard.)

DECKARD

Going to give you a big tip tonight. (Tyrell and Sebastian laugh) What do you want? My car? My apartment? I’ll just leave you my whole damn wallet.

SEBASTIAN

You’re funny, Mister. You can leave Rachael.

DECKARD

Now, you’re funny.

SEBASTIAN

She’s the reason this thing’s going down. I’d like to take her out back and take a crow bar to her.

RACHAEL

Rick…

DECKARD

It’s not her fault.

SEBASTIAN

Ain’t it? AIn’t it? The only reason one of them’s not working here is because I own the joint. All those big corporations and politicians chasing the almighty Yuan. Never cared about people. Never cared about the planet. The only jobs left were in the military as grunts because we’re cheaper than one of those. We’re expendable. I was lucky to come back from Africa with most of my limbs. What’s the matter, Rachael? Scared of me. You shouldn’t be. One fourth of me is just like you.

(Deckard grabs Sebastian by the lapels.)

DECKARD

Listen up. You’re going to apologize to the lady and you’re going to go back to cleaning your little cups or whatever it is you do back there. We got nowhere to go, same as you. We may as well make the best of it.

SEBASTIAN

You listen, tough guy. I ain’t wasting my last breath sucking up to a toaster with tits. You don’t like it, you can leave.

(Deckard lets go of him. He grabs Rachael and they try to walk off stage left and realize there is no exit. They move to stage right, same thing. They look at each other and hold one another. Thunder is heard rumbling in the distance. Tyrell looks out the window, a look of fear on his face. Sebastian goes back to cleaning cups. Rachael and Deckard sit back down at the counter. Tyrell sits back down and turns his back to the audience. More thunder. Lights fade.)