SOMETHING LIKE PENGUINS
By Levi Wilson
Levi Wilson is a BA Graduate of the University of Kentucky’s Theatre Arts Department and has studied at the Beverly Hills Playhouse in Los Angeles and The Stella Adler Studio of Acting. He has written and appeared in several film festival Official Selection shorts and the CMJ Film Festival Best Feature The Invisible Life of Thomas. He is an avid martial artist. This is his first play.
Something Like Penguins made its New York City debut on August 15, 2010 at the Theater at St. Clements for the Riant Theatre’s Summer 2010 Strawberry One-Act Festival where it won Best Play with the following cast, in order of appearance:
ELI Ryan Lee Nazionale
DANIEL Levi Wilson
HEATHER Janaya Combs
The play was directed by Mario Corry.
CAST OF CHARACTERS
ELI, a volunteer, is in his twenties. He is tired from a long journey.
DANIEL, Daniel’s best friend, is in his twenties.
HEATHER, Daniel’s fiancée, is in her twenties. She is spritely, earnest and open.
NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR
This play is meant to be performed casually and off the cuff. The actors are encouraged to improvise around the scripted lines and overlap each other. The actors should be free to make exasperated and vaulted exclamations suitable to the heightened emotions of the situation. Though not specified, the ringtone sound cue ought to be as obnoxious a song as possible and hint at the relationship between Heather and Daniel. This is a special ringtone Daniel has for Heather.
SCENE I
(A stoop in New York City. It is early morning. The sun is shining. The birds are chirping. After a moment a young man walks onto the stage. This is ELI. He is slightly disheveled, perhaps a lot of facial hair, as if he has been traveling for some time and from some distance. He could use some sleep. His dress is very casual, worn jeans, worn combat boots, perhaps a weathered North Face jacket, and a full hiker’s backpack. He stops at the stoop and breaths a heavy sigh. He reaches in his pocket for the keys but they are not there. He unshoulders his backpack and digs in its pockets for a moment. As he digs another young man enters from the opposite side of the stage. He is lightly disheveled but in a different way. He isn’t tired but has a light step, almost dancing, as he walks toward the stoop. This is DANIEL. He is wearing a wrinkled buttoned dress shirt, tucked, and slacks and dress shoes with no socks. In one arm is a small brown bag of sundry groceries and in the other hand is a carefully balanced cardboard travel tray with two coffees on them. DANIEL takes a few steps towards the stoop and spots Eli. He stops.)
ELI: Dammit!
(By this time the backpack is half empty with pieces of clothing and travel items placed on the stoop. He pulls out a small item carefully wrapped with ribbon and bow and places that carefully on the stoop. DANIEL is frozen like a gazelle listening for a lion. ELI looks up after placing the present and stops DANIEL.)
ELI: Daniel!
DAN: Eli! Whatever?
ELI: Yeah, man! It’s me!
DAN: I can see that!
ELI: I’m back, man!
DAN: You made it back alive.
ELI: Who’s gonna stop me?
DAN: Nobody, apparently!
ELI: Put that shit down and give me a hug, man!
DAN: Okay!
(DANIEL walks to the stoop and puts everything down. They embrace like brothers, veterans of an ancient war.)
ELI: Good to see you. Can’t find my keys.
DAN: That sucks.
ELI: You know you leave home for a while and you don’t use your keys. Sometimes they just kind of disappear, like if you don’t believe in it enough it just fades away.
DAN: Maybe if you clap your hands they’ll come back.
ELI: Right!
(DAN and ELI close their eyes and bring their hands together with one definitive clap!)
DAN and ELI: Hear me, God of Keys!
(ELI starts to rifle and dig in his backpack again. Dan takes a seat on the stoop. He takes a sip of one of the coffees. He looks up at the apartment. Then back at ELI.)
DAN: Wow. I can’t believe you’re already back.
ELI: Tell me about it! I thought I’d be gone for–
DAN: Ten months–
ELI: Ten months. What’s new with you?
DAN: New? Oh, god. Nothing really. Nothing really going on. Not right now, anyways.
ELI: No?
DAN: Nope. I mean, I’ve got some things lined up, you know. For the future–for in the–later on.
ELI: Oh. That’s cool. Seeing anyone?
DAN: Not yet. Not right now really.
ELI: Really? That’s it, man. I’m making it my mission to find you a girl. You have been single too long. You have got to be tired of being a third wheel with me and Heather? Right, man?
DAN: The thought had crossed my mind.
ELI: Now that I’m back Heather and I can speed up her move-in and then the game is afoot!
DAN: You know, it’s not something I’m worried about. I’m more interested in my work.
ELI: Work? You just said you had nothing going on? Come on!
DAN: I’ve got things. Lined up–
ELI: Yeah, yeah. Lined up for later on. In the ‘future.’
DAN: That’s the one.
(Pause)
ELI: Did you move?
DAN: No. Why?
ELI: Well, it’s kind of a trek from East 90th for a coffee.
DAN: Oh, yeah. Yeah, I mean, you’re telling me!
(ELI feels something in his backpack.)
ELI: Oh, I think I’ve got it!
(He reaches and pulls out a ring of Allen wrenches.)
ELI: Shit!
(ELI take is backpack and flips it upside down and dumps the contents onto the sidewalk. The rest of his stuff is now lying on the ground. He flings the contents about, digs, feels around for anything resembling keys. It is a futile effort. The keys are gone.)
ELI: I guess I should have clapped more. I guess I was gone too long this time.
DAN: Yeah.
(Pause)
DAN: So, then. What now?
ELI: What now what?
DAN: What’s the next step?
ELI: I have to get a job, man, I guess.
DAN: I mean now…
ELI: Now? This second. You wanna get some breakfast with me?
DAN: You know, I’ve got to get back up.
ELI: Get back up? I just got back and you’ve got to go?
DAN: I do. I’ve got to make a phone call. Take a shower.
ELI: Daniel. Hey, your coffees and stuff!
DAN: Right!
ELI: Let’s go get some breakfast somewhere. I need to brainstorm.
(DANIEL picks up his bag and the coffee tray.)
DAN: Look, I got this–I’m not really hungry, let’s just meet up a little later. I need to shower—
ELI: You don’t have to eat anything. I just have to sit somewhere and–I got it! Duh!
DAN: You got it?
ELI: Break into my apartment.
DAN: What?
ELI: Help me break in!
(A ringing noise. It is DANIEL’s cell phone.)
ELI: That is an obnoxious ringtone.
DAN: Yeah. Yeah.
(DANIEL does nothing. The phone rings.)
ELI: You gonna get it?
DAN: Right! Right.
(DANIEL puts his stuff down again and fumbles for his phone. He finds it. It stops ringing.)
DAN: Missed it.
ELI: Was that the call you gotta make?
DAN: Huh? Oh. Uh, yeah, no. Call blocked. You know.
ELI: Creditors.
DAN: Creditors.
(Pause. DANIEL slowly gathers his things.)
ELI: Okay. So help me break into my apartment.
DAN: Oh, god. You know. I really gotta get going.
ELI: Come on, man! We’ve done this before!
DAN: Jeez, I mean. I’m, I need—
ELI: Man, second floor! I just need to quick boost.
DAN: I know—
ELI: I got a spare set in my desk. Just a quick boost, I’m in, you can take your shower and we can meet up.
DAN: Look. Hey, okay? The coffee is getting cold, the croissants are getting stale. I can’t be here.
ELI: Okay.
DAN: Okay?
ELI: Okay.
DAN: Okay, then.
(DANIEL turns slowly on his heels.)
ELI: What the fuck is going on? I haven’t seen you in months! You have some important engagement to get to? You’re in such a rush you have to go 70 blocks for two coffees and a bag of croissants?! You have somebody tied up in your apartment? You know, man! Go home. I’ll break into the apartment myself.