Kill Me Now Read online

  ROWDY:

  I got the meds. And rye.

  TWYLA:

  Nearly everything in this fridge is mouldy.

  ROWDY:

  There’s a lot of hair in it too. Creeps me out.

  TWYLA:

  You can’t let it get like this.

  ROWDY:

  It’s self-cleaning. So’s the stove.

  TWYLA:

  That doesn’t mean—

  ROWDY:

  Says it right on the cover of both manuals. I looked. Self-cleaning.

  TWYLA:

  When you moved in you said you’d help out.

  ROWDY:

  Why can’t that be your job?

  TWYLA:

  Because I’m already doing the laundry. Jesus this is disgusting.

  ROWDY:

  Need another bag?

  TWYLA:

  I might.

  ROWDY gets her another garbage bag.

  ROWDY:

  I’ll tell Joe. Where’s Mr. Sturdy?

  TWYLA:

  Having a lie down.

  ROWDY:

  Joey?

  TWYLA:

  Playing with his pad somewhere.

  ROWDY:

  I’m just gonna leave the pills here so you can divide them into their pill things.

  TWYLA:

  Sure.

  She takes the bucket to the sink and empties it.

  ROWDY:

  Want me to crack the CC?

  TWYLA:

  I wouldn’t say no.

  ROWDY:

  Really?

  TWYLA:

  We’re all adults.

  ROWDY brings her a glass of water, opens the bottle, and pours some rye into a tumbler.

  Is this better for you? Living here?

  ROWDY:

  The group home was a nightmare. There was this guy there that screamed all night long. Every night. They gave him pills but they only worked for a few hours eh. I swear some nights I wanted to stab that fucking kid in the throat just to stop him from making those sounds.

  JOEY enters.

  JOEY:

  Wowdee whuh huh yuh buhn? (Rowdy where have you been?)

  ROWDY:

  Getting the stuff you told me to get.

  JOEY:

  Whuh duhn ooh cuh suh muh? (Why didn’t you come see me?)

  ROWDY:

  What’s the emerg?

  JOEY:

  Dah nuh hih mesh. (Dad needs his meds.)

  ROWDY:

  In twenty minutes. I know how to tell time bitch.

  JOEY:

  Duh cuh muh buch. (Don’t call me a bitch.)

  ROWDY:

  Then don’t act like one Loretta.

  TWYLA:

  Joey someone has to check the fridge for old food.

  JOEY has his tablet ready.

  JOEY:

  Huh Uhfuh? (How often?)

  TWYLA:

  Every three days for sure.

  JOEY:

  Ahl ud ih tuh Wowdeesh shorsh. (I’ll add it to Rowdy’s chores.)

  JOEY types into the tablet with amazing dexterity given his malformed hands.

  ROWDY:

  I’m not a slave you know.

  JOEY:

  Ho shuh hub. (Oh shut up.)

  TWYLA:

  I need another drink.

  JOEY:

  Duh guh pushed uv yuh druvuh. (Don’t get pissed if you’re driving.)

  TWYLA:

  I’m hardly pissed.

  ROWDY:

  She’s earned a couple drinks.

  JAKE enters. He looks very tired.

  JAKE:

  I could really use a glass of water.

  ROWDY:

  Got it.

  JAKE:

  What time is it?

  JOEY:

  Fuh. (Four.)

  TWYLA:

  Why don’t we go sit on the deck? You could really use some sun.

  JAKE:

  Naw.

  JAKE sits at the table.

  TWYLA:

  Let me comb your hair.

  JAKE:

  I’m fine.

  TWYLA:

  Happy to do it.

  JAKE:

  Lay off the fucking hair.

  TWYLA:

  Okay.

  JOEY:

  Ah yuh hunguh Duh? (Are you hungry Dad?)

  JAKE:

  No. Just thirsty.

  ROWDY gives JAKE water.

  ROWDY:

  Here you go Mr. S.

  JAKE:

  It smells different in here.

  TWYLA:

  I cleaned the fridge.

  JAKE:

  How are you?

  TWYLA:

  Okay.

  JOEY:

  Uh yuh ruduh fuh yuh punkuhush? (Are you ready for your painkillers?)

  JAKE:

  I’m okay for a few more minutes. How’s it going Rowdy?

  ROWDY:

  If you don’t mind me saying so Mr. Sturdy your family has been treating me like I’m some kind of slave or something and I’m gonna say I’m getting really sick of it.

  JAKE:

  The Services does give you an extra allowance for helping out.

  ROWDY:

  I know and I’m grateful. But there’s a limit. I’ve got other things to do.

  JOEY:

  Wuh uvuh thuns? (What other things?)

  ROWDY:

  I need a social life. Romance.

  TWYLA:

  You have almost every evening to yourself.

  ROWDY:

  Yeah but I don’t have no place I can bring a girl to or whatever.

  JAKE:

  Rowdy if you had a steady girlfriend we could discuss it but I won’t have you bringing random women into my home just for sex.

  ROWDY:

  Why not?

  TWYLA:

  They might steal something.

  JOEY:

  Oh smoag cugaruh. (Or smoke cigarettes.)

  ROWDY:

  I tolju I wouldn’t pick up any smokers!

  TWYLA:

  Go to their place.

  ROWDY:

  They don’t always have places. Some of them barely have things.

  JAKE:

  Then get a motel room. Jesus fucking Christ this is our home not a halfway house for horny young men! Why can’t you seem to get that?

  ROWDY:

  Because I never had a home.

  Pause.

  JAKE:

  We appreciate everything you do here. I’m sorry if that isn’t always clear.

  ROWDY:

  No it’s I didn’t mean shit okay I’m sorry.

  TWYLA:

  I ran into Sandro last week.

  JAKE:

  How is he?

  TWYLA:

  Fat and kind of sad. He asked how you were doing.

  JAKE:

  What did you tell him?

  TWYLA:

  The truth.

  JAKE:

  Twyla—

  TWYLA:

  When people ask I tell them you’re having a health issue—that we have no idea how long it will last and that you’re dealing with it as best you can. Isn’t that right?

  JAKE:

  Yes.

  TWYLA:

  He gave me his card. I thought—

  JAKE:

  Socializing isn’t high on my agenda right now.

  JOEY:

 
; Ih tum Dah. (It’s time Dad.)

  JAKE:

  Is it?

  JOEY:

  Yuh.

  ROWDY gets JAKE his pill and some water as he speaks.

  ROWDY:

  Here you go.

  JAKE:

  Great.

  JAKE takes his pill and chases it with some water.

  JOEY:

  Ooh hunguh Dah? (You hungry Dad?)

  JAKE:

  No.

  TWYLA:

  I can warm you up some chow.

  JAKE:

  I’m said I’m fine.

  TWYLA:

  Just checking.

  JOEY:

  Yul fee buduh wuh yuh pih kish ih. (You’ll feel better when your pill kicks in.)

  JAKE:

  Right.

  JAKE exits.

  ROWDY:

  You ready for something to eat?

  JOEY:

  Nuh. Lesh guh tuh thuh puhc. (No. Let’s go to the park.)

  ROWDY:

  Naw.

  JOEY:

  Yuh nufuh wunuh duh nufuh unuhmuh. (You never want to do nothing anymore.)

  ROWDY:

  We’ll go to the park tomorrow bud.

  JOEY:

  Nuh shud. Ah huf ovuh frundsh. (No sweat. I have other friends.)

  ROWDY:

  What other friends?

  JOEY:

  (brandishes the tablet) Aw duh nud. (On the net.)

  ROWDY:

  You think those are real friends?

  JOEY:

  Uz weew uz ooh. Uhm nuhmuh un duh nuh. (As real as you. I’m normal on the net.)

  JOEY exits angrily. TWYLA unloads JAKE and JOEY’s weekly pill containers, removes a number of pill bottles from the bag, and separates them into appropriate compartments.

  ROWDY:

  Still working for that computer cult?

  TWYLA:

  It’s not a cult it’s a corporation.

  ROWDY:

  Everyone bows down to the mighty machine.

  TWYLA:

  Gotta make a living.

  ROWDY:

  You wanna drink?

  TWYLA:

  I shouldn’t.

  ROWDY mixes her another drink.

  ROWDY:

  Got it.

  TWYLA:

  Last one.

  ROWDY:

  Sure. Hey Twyla can I talk to you about something just you know between us?

  TWYLA:

  Is this something weird?

  ROWDY:

  Pretty much yeah.

  TWYLA:

  What?

  ROWDY:

  So you know how Mr. Sturdy jacks Joey off in the shower?

  Long pause.

  You didn’t know that.

  TWYLA:

  I—didn’t.

  ROWDY:

  It’s not child molestering or anything weird like that. He’s just helping him out you know the way any decent person would.

  TWYLA:

  Right.

  ROWDY:

  I guess that does sound kinda fucked-up eh?

  TWYLA:

  Yes but I—if I think about it—and I really don’t want to—it’s—you know—I—well I don’t understand. No I do. No I don’t.

  ROWDY:

  No one else will do it and Joe can’t do it himself because of his fucked-up hands.

  TWYLA:

  I’m—sad.

  ROWDY:

  Sorry.

  TWYLA:

  It’s okay. I’m—what did you want to discuss?

  ROWDY:

  Well Mr. Sturdy’s getting more and more frozen in his body and Joey’s getting real moody because there’s no more understanding hand jobs in the shower and I don’t—I don’t really see hand jobs as being part of my job description.

  Pause.

  TWYLA:

  Are you suggesting I should do it?

  ROWDY:

  I mop up their piss.

  TWYLA:

  (handing him her glass to refill) Rowdy I can’t even really even—think about this.

  ROWDY:

  Yeah yeah. Got it. But I was thinking like maybe you know I might have recently met an open-minded hooker who’s not too expensive—

  TWYLA:

  And this open-minded hooker would—?

  ROWDY:

  Give him something much wetter than a hand job from his dad.

  TWYLA:

  We’re really having this conversation right? I’m not—like having a stroke or something?

  ROWDY:

  You need another drink.

  TWYLA:

  I do.

  ROWDY makes her another drink.

  ROWDY:

  There’s no one for me to talk about this shit with.

  TWYLA:

  You think it would help? To bring this woman here?

  ROWDY:

  Totally.

  TWYLA:

  Then yes. Jesus. I can’t—shit.

  ROWDY:

  You want to smoke a joint.

  He lights a joint.

  TWYLA:

  You’re very intuitive.

  ROWDY:

  Yes.

  They share the joint.

  Why don’t you like people to touch you?

  TWYLA:

  Who says—?

  ROWDY:

  I notice shit.

  TWYLA:

  When people touch you or—you know—say they love you or make some kind of contact like that they always—they—

  ROWDY:

  Want something?

  TWYLA:

  The few times anyone’s ever told me they love me it’s right before or after they do something really horrible—or die. So yeah I’m not a big lover of love.

  ROWDY:

  High?

  TWYLA:

  Yeah you?

  ROWDY:

  Totes.

  TWYLA laughs very hard.

  What?

  TWYLA:

  That’s so perfect. Totes. (laughs) Totes boats stoats—

  ROWDY:

  It means totally.

  TWYLA:

  I thought you meant like tote bags.

  ROWDY:

  What the fuck are tote bags?

  TWYLA:

  You know. Bags you—tote.

  They both laugh uproariously. It peters out. They breathe heavily. Pause.

  I thought by now I’d have met a man who’d take me away from all this.

  ROWDY:

  Where and when were you expecting that to happen?

  TWYLA:

  At work like everyone else.

  ROWDY kisses her suddenly. She gives into it then pulls away.

  You really shouldn’t—

  ROWDY:

  When was the last time anyone made you feel good?

  TWYLA:

  It’s not really—

  ROWDY:

  You deserve to feel good.

  TWYLA:

  Rowdy.

  They kiss again. JOEY enters.

  JOEY:

  Wuh duh fuh uh wunh wif ooh pupuh? (What the fuck is wrong with you people?)

  ROWDY:

  Hey.

  JOEY:

  Uh sith huh yuh tunk ooh shuh buh uktuh uh muh kuhchuh? (Is this how you think you should be acting in my kitchen?)

  ROWDY:

  Thought you were busy.

  JOEY:

  Yuh buh tutuh fuhuh ashulsh! (You’re both
total fucking assholes!)

  TWYLA:

  Joey—

  JOEY:

  Yuh uh owd laduh. (You’re an old lady.)

  TWYLA:

  I’m twenty-nine—

  JOEY:

  Fuh yuh! (Fuck you!)

  ROWDY:

  Don’t talk to her like that.

  TWYLA:

  Rowdy don’t make it worse—

  JAKE enters groggy.

  JAKE:

  Why are you shouting?

  JOEY:

  Nuffuh. Fuhgud ud. (Nothing. Forget it.)

  TWYLA:

  Just a—

  ROWDY:

  Disagreement.

  TWYLA:

  We didn’t mean to wake you.

  JAKE:

  I’m not sure if I was sleeping. I thought I was dreaming—I just—I heard this—uh—

  JAKE’s eyes grow wide. He begins to make a quiet humming sound, staring straight ahead. He twitches slightly.

  JOEY:

  Dah?

  ROWDY:

  You okay?

  JAKE jerks spasmodically.

  JOEY:

  Dah?!

  ROWDY moves to help JAKE.

  ROWDY:

  Maybe you better—

  JAKE falls to the ground, twitching stiffly. The noise he’s making has gotten louder. TWYLA finds her communications device and calls 911.

  TWYLA:

  I need an ambulance immediately. Thank you.

  ROWDY moves and puts his hands under JAKE’s head so he doesn’t bang it on the floor.

  ROWDY:

  I gotcha.

  JOEY:

  Dah!

  Quick fade to black. Lights rise on ROBYN walking down the street with a shopping bag. Her communications device sounds. She answers it.

  ROBYN:

  Hello? Who? Oh yes. Of course. Is there something wrong? His brain? Is he back in the—I see. Is it a coma? Conscious but immobile. Don’t like the sound of that. Do you think there’s any point in me—right. Good. I appreciate you keeping me updated. That’s very considerate Twyla. Call me if anything changes.

  A light rises on a men’s bathroom. In the hospital JOEY is standing at a urinal, his back to the audience. ROWDY assists him by undoing JOEY’s zipper.

  JOEY:

  Dah dun lug suh guh. (Dad don’t look so good.)

  ROWDY:

  I fucking hate fucking hospitals.

  JOEY:

  Tay ih ud. (Take it out.)

  ROWDY:

  I’m taking it out but you’re gonna hold it the way I showed you.

  JOEY:

  Ah truch. (I twitch.)

  ROWDY:

  Try to keep your hands still.

  JOEY:

  Ah cand. (I can’t.)

  ROWDY:

  Breathe steady.

  JOEY clumsily holds his own dick.