ACT 3

(Lights come up as a clock chimes five o’clock. We see HOWARD sitting cross-legged on his bed facing the door. He is dressed in a crisply ironed sport shirt, neatly creased dress slacks and highly polished dress shoes. He sits motionless and stares at the door. After a few moments, we hear footsteps offstage and there is a knock at the door. HOWARD does nothing. There is another knock. HOWARD still sits motionless. There is a third knock, and we hear JIM’s voice.)

JIM. (offstage) Howard? Are you in there?

HOWARD. Yes.

JIM (opening door slowly and popping his head into the room) Okay if I come in?

HOWARD. Yes.

JIM. (walks into the room. He is wearing similar clothes to HOWARD’s, but a little more casual. JIM sees HOWARD all dressed up.) Hey! Aren’t we all dolled up! You look great!

HOWARD. (deadpan) Thanks.

JIM. Is something the matter?

HOWARD. You’re late.

JIM. I’m what?

HOWARD. (looks at his watch) It’s five-oh-two. You were supposed to be here at five-oh-nothing.

JIM. So?

HOWARD. You’re late.

JIM. So, this is the mood that you’re in today!

HOWARD. What mood? When someone is late, they should just admit it. And you’re two minutes late!

JIM. Just two stupid minutes!

HOWARD. That’s one hundred and twenty seconds. Do you know how many nano-seconds that is? It’s…

JIM. (exasperated) Okay! Okay! I’m two minutes late! I apologize! So what?

HOWARD. So what? Being late can mean one of two things: 1. It wasn’t important enough for you to be on time, or 2. It’s a power thing, and you feel more powerful because you made me wait.

JIM. How about the third option? I stopped off downstairs to spend a few moments talking to your mother, who, by the way, is very excited that you are going out tonight.

HOWARD. Humph. Apology accepted.

JIM. Good. So let’s go.

HOWARD. Just a minute. I really must water my cacti before I forget about it.

JIM. Now?

HOWARD. I’m afraid I’ll forget later, and they really need it. Besides, it will only take a minute.

JIM. How many nano-seconds?

HOWARD. (stops in his tracks to consider JIM’s joke, and laughs at it softly as he reaches for the watering can. He then moves to care for his cacti.) You know. Cacti are really very fragile plants. They can survive only in the most narrow of climatic conditions. They need plenty of sunshine, a sandy soil, a moderate to hot temperature, and, believe it or not, water.

JIM. (Looking around the room) Really?

HOWARD. They are part of the plant family known as succulents. That means that they are a very fleshy plant with a high water content.

JIM. (His eyes fall on a particular book in the bookshelf. He stands up and pulls out their high school year book.) Is that right.

HOWARD. They’ve been used for medicinal purposes for thousands of years. The aloe plant is still used today to treat burns and dry skin conditions. And (He finally notices JIM thumbing through the yearbook) What are you doing?

JIM. Oh, just reading what Janice Fullerton wrote to you again. Man. She sure was pretty. I wonder what ever happened to her?

HOWARD. She was raped.

JIM. (Closing the book on his finger and thinking.) You know, I remember that, now that you mention it. Some big football jock or somebody, wasn’t it?

HOWARD. Baseball Jock. Randall Cranston.

JIM. Yeah. That’s right. Randall Cranston. Nailed her under the bleachers, right?

HOWARD. (Putting the watering can down and walking back to the bed.) He didn’t nail her. He raped her.

JIM. It was in the spring sometime. Just before we graduated, wasn’t it?

HOWARD. (Sitting on bed an arm’s length from JIM) It was Wednesday, April 27, 1972.

JIM. Yeah. Poor kid. I had forgotten about that. I wonder whatever became of her.

HOWARD. After the rape, she spent the rest of her life going in and out of mental institutions. She committed suicide in the state hospital on January 23, 1993.

JIM. Really? I didn’t know that! That’s terrible! The poor kid!

HOWARD. Yeah. The poor kid.

JIM: Did you keep in touch with her?

HOWARD: (Shaking his head slowly) No. I, uh, I…admired her from afar.

JIM. So. What happened to us Howard?
HOWARD. What do you mean, "What happened to us?"
JIM. When we graduated high school, we had plans. We had dreams. And look where we are now.\
HOWARD. I never had any grand scheme for my future.
JIM. Sure you did! I remember you telling me one time that you were going to go to study the horticulture of the Amazon rain forests.
HOWARD. Never happened.
JIM. Yes. Yes it did! I remember it clearly. You and I were sitting under the bleachers at the baseball field. You told me that you really wanted to become a carpenter, but you didn’t want to disappoint your dad. So you were going to study horticulture at Uconn, and then go to the Amazon to study the plants of the area.
HOWARD. You’re nuts.
JIM. No. No, I’m not. I remember the conversation distinctly.
HOWARD. We’ve already established the fact that your memory is faulty. Remember a sorrowful lack of electrical impulses across the synapses.
JIM. No, Howard. This really happened!
HOWARD. And I never followed through, okay? What the hell do you want from me? Just because you fulfilled your adolescent goals, you think that you’re a success or something?
JIM. What?
HOWARD. You said that you wanted to become an English teacher, and you did.
JIM. So you do remember that conversation!
HOWARD. You achieved everything in life that you set out to accomplish, and I didn’t. Happy?
JIM. (taken aback by this statement) I did?
HOWARD. Didn’t you?
JIM. Well, I never really thought about it like that. I guess, to some degree that I have…I mean, I became a teacher. But…somehow…I don’t really feel like I’ve lived up to my expectations.
HOWARD. Really?
JIM. I guess not.
HOWARD. Aren’t you happy?
JIM. Well. I guess I’m reasonably happy.
HOWARD. Reasonably?
JIM. Well…yeah…I guess so. Reasonably happy.
HOWARD. Not esctatic?
JIM. No.
HOWARD. Why not?
JIM. I don’t know. Are you?
HOWARD. We’re not talking about me here.
JIM. Why not?
HOWARD. Because, in my cleverness, I’ve managed to divert to topic of conversation from my goals to yours.
JIM. (shaking head in disbelief) You’re amazing.
HOWARD. Not really. With you, it’s easy to turn to tables. Not really that much of an accomplishment.
JIM. HOWARD!
HOWARD. So, why do you think your miserable?
JIM. I’m not miserable.
HOWARD. But you’re not happy.
JIM. I am happy. I’m just not esctatically happy, that’s all.
HOWARD. But you’ve achieved all of your goals! How are you not be delirious with your lilfe?
JIM. Howard. Life isn’t just accomplishing things!
HOWARD. Aha!
JIM. And besides, goals can change, can’t they? After you reach some of them, can’t you have new ones?
HOWARD. Okay. And what unattainable new goals have you set for yourself that have made you a failure in life?
JIM. I am not a failure!
HOWARD. Okay.
JIM. And what about you? Why didn’t you go out and do the things that you set out to do in high school.
HOWARD. (recoils a little at this.) My…my goals changed.
JIM. When?
HOWARD. When do you think?
JIM. How should I know? All I know is that you’ve spent the last thirty-some-odd years of your life hiding from the world, wrapped up in self pity.
HOWARD. How dare you! Who are you to judge me? You should die for saying that!
JIM. You’ve been dead for decades!
HOWARD. GO TO HELL!

JIM. Why did you squander all those years Howard?
HOWARD. Squandered! You have absolutely…
JIM. Yes Howard! Squandered! You squandered your life! You’ve got nothing to show for it! You had so much potential! You were and are brilliant! You had a gift with carpentry! You had an interest in horticulture. You were going to go out into the world and do good for mankind! Find a cure for cancer or something, remember? And, instead, you wrapped yourself up in this cocoon of a room! Why.
HOWARD. Who the hell do you think…
JIM. Why Howard?
HOWARD! BECAUSE I WAS RAPED, THAT"S WHY!

(Hetrick pause.)

JIM. You were what?
HOWARD. (turning away.) You heard me.
JIM. But Howard, you weren’t raped. Janice was raped.
HOWARD. Yes, she was. Randall raped her. And he raped me and you and everybody else that ever knew her! He raped us all! He raped the universe!
JIM. No, Howard. No. He raped Janice. And as horrible and as unspeakable as that was, the rest of us survived. Her parents survived. Her other friends survived. Sure, their lives were all changed, and they all had were deeply and tragically affected by it, but they all picked up the pieces after a while and continued living their lives. You…you didn’t.
HOWARD. Goals. You want to talk to me about goals? Randall Cranston stole my goals from me. He left me with absolutely nothing!
JIM. You’re goal in life was Janice?

(Howard nods slowly.)

HOWARD. She kissed me once. Twice, actually. She…she taught me how to kiss. She was patient with me. She…I think she believed in me. She was one of the few who did. And I loved her for it. And I’ve loved her for all these years. And I love her still.
JIM. (Stands up reading from the book. He ends up over by the desk.) "Howard. I will never forget you, especially after that special afternoon. Others may think you are strange, but I know the real you. It is because you are different that I am so attracted to you! Dare to be yourself! Love Always, Janice."
HOWARD. (suddenly standing up and walking to the door.) Shall we go now?
 
JIM. You’re in a hurry to leave all of a sudden?
HOWARD. I’m hungry.
JIM. (stands up and walks past HOWARD and out the door) All right. Let’s go!
HOWARD. Right!

(Howard tries to walk out of the room, but something inside of him won’t let him do it. We see him struggle with himself. He literally shakes in his torment. He tries again to walk out the door. He gets to the threshold and freezes. Finally, JIM comes back into the room, and sees HOWARD in a sweat.)

 
JIM. Not quite yet?
HOWARD. (breathlessly) Not quite yet.
JIM. (clasps his hands together and walks around the room.) Okay. So what shall we talk about? (he walks over to the window garden.) Succulents?
HOWARD. (shakes his head) There’s nothing more to say about them.
JIM. (sits in desk chair) Okay.
HOWARD. Just give me a few minutes.
JIM. Take your time. You know, we really don’t have to go out if you’re not up to it.
HOWARD. (suddenly glares at JIM) If I’m not up to it? You don’t think I’m up to it? You think that I’m scared or something to go out? Is that it?
JIM. (holds up hands in defense) Whoa, take it easy fella. I didn’t mean anything by it.
HOWARD. (shakes his head and laughs.) If I’m not up to it. God! You’ve got so many ways to feel superior to me, don’t you? If I’m not up to it. (Suddenly he dashes up to JIM and grabs the arms of the chair. As HOWARD is running toward him, JIM panics and almost falls over backwards in the chair.) Are you sure that you’re up to it? Are you?
JIM. What the hell is going on?
HOWARD. You think you’re better than me, don’t you?
JIM. No.
HOWARD. You pity me don’t you?
JIM. No.
HOWARD. You went home last night and were glad that you were not me, didn’t you?
JIM. Howie…
HOWARD. Didn’t you!
JIM (shouts) Yes!
HOWARD. (taken aback) What?
JIM. (throws hands up, stands up and walks away) Oh, for crying out loud!
HOWARD. You did, didn’t you?
JIM. No.
HOWARD. (getting right up in JIM’s face) Then why did you say yes?
JIM. To shut you up! You’re badgering me!
HOWARD. Oh. Now I’m badgering you?
JIM. (sidestepping HOWARD and heading towards the door.) Maybe this is a bad idea.

(Panic comes over HOWARD. He grabs JIM and throws him across the room. JIM loses his balance and sprawls out on the floor under the window.)

JIM. (shaking his head in shock) Holy mackerel!
HOWARD. (Hand to his mouth) You okay?
JIM. (climbing slowly to his feet.) I think so.
HOWARD. (moving towards JIM) Let me help you to a chair.
JIM (stiffening and backing away.) I fine.
HOWARD. (yielding) Okay.

(JIM shakes his head and staggers a bit.)

JIM. I feel just a bit woozy.

(JIM loses his balance and grabs the window sill to steady himself. In doing so, he knocks the tray of cacti out the window. HOWARD is horrified and lunges toward the window. JIM, frightened, hits the floor.)

HOWARD. NOOOOOOO!

(HOWARD leans out window and sees his cacti smashed on the ground two stories below.)

HOWARD. Oh no! Oh God! Oh no!
JIM. (slowly getting to his feet again.) What’s the matter?
HOWARD. (barely able to contain his anger. Rushes to JIM and grabs the collar of JIM’s shirt with both hands!) You killed my plants! You dumped them out the window! You clumsy idiot!
JIM. (forcing HOWARD’s hands off of him and backing away) Get your hands off of me!
HOWARD. (Hands clenched in front of him) You jackass! You stupid jackass! Look at what you did! I COULD KILL YOU!

(HOWARD moves menacingly close to JIM. JIM slaps HOWARD hard across the face. HOWARD steps back, hand going to his face where he was slapped. HIS face goes through a range of emotions from shock to anger to hurt. HOWARD’s lower lip comes out like a baby as he begins to cry openly. HOWARD turns and leans out the window.)

HOWARD. Look what you did to my plants!
JIM. It was an accident.
HOWARD. Smashed all over the driveway.
JIM. It wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t pushed me down.
HOWARD. (turning towards JIM.) Are you saying that it’s my fault?
JIM. I’m saying that it’s nobody’s fault. OR it’s both of our faults.
HOWARD (shaking his head and his waving his hand in the air as a form of dismissal.) I refuse to take responsibility for this! We are not responsible for what happens to us in life.
JIM. What?
HOWARD. It’s true.
JIM. It is not!
HOWARD. You don’t really think that you control your life, do you?
JIM. To some degree.
HOWARD. You’re kidding me!
JIM. No. I’m not. I think that our lives are shaped, to a large degree, by the decisions that we make.
HOWARD. So you think that we have control over what happens to us?
JIM. Most of the time.
HOWARD. Tell that to the people who went to work in the twin towers on Sept. 11!
JIM. You know what I think, Howie? I think that you just don’t want to accept the responsibility of what has become of your life!
HOWARD. (Horrorstruck) That’s not true.
JIM. It’s much easier to feel sorry for yourself and be a victim than it is to own up to your own responsibilities!
HOWARD. "Life is what happens to you while you’re busy making other plans". You know who said that?
JIM. John Lennon.
HOWARD. About a month before he was shot to death.
JIM. (Sarcastically) We’re a society of victims, aren’t we? That’s what puts money in the lawyers’ pockets.
HOWARD. Oh, shut the hell up!
JIM. Admit it, Howard! If you hadn’t yanked me back into the room, I wouldn’t have fallen down. And then I wouldn’t have gotten up dizzy and knocked your plants out the window.
HOWARD. If you weren’t so clum…
JIM. You can’t admit it, can you?
HOWARD. (Looking back out the window. Tears come to his eyes again.) You have no idea how important they were to me.
JIM. I think I do!
HOWARD. No. No you don’t. You see, you’ve got things in this world. Out there. And you’ve got people. People who care. People who love. People who notice if you’re not around. I don’t.
JIM. You could if you wanted to.
HOWARD. (Looking at him sadly.) No. I can’t. You don’t understand.
JIM. Understand what?
HOWARD. Things happen to some people that they have no control over. Things that change their lives forever. Things that they just can’t overcome.
JIM. You’re one of those people?
HOWARD. Yes.
JIM. What happened to you?
HOWARD. Janice Fullerton.
JIM. But that was a good thing! I mean, the most beautiful girl in high school writes in your yearbook!
HOWARD. Jim.

JIM. What did it say? Something like, "I’ll never forget that special evening!"

HOWARD. Jim.

JIM. It said something about "that special evening."

HOWARD. It said, "HOWARD. I will never forget you, especially after that special afternoon. Others may think you are strange, but I know the real you. It is because you are different that I am so attracted to you! Dare to be yourself! Love Always, Janice."

JIM. You memorized it.

HOWARD. (turning back to the window and looking down at the plants again.) I wrote it.

JIM. What?

HOWARD. (shaking head in shame and walking over the desk chair, where he sits facing the audience.) Janice never wrote in my yearbook. She never wrote in anybody’s yearbook, remember? She left school before they were handed out.

JIM. So you and Janice never were…

HOWARD. Oh, we "were" all right. For one afternoon under the bleachers. It was absolutely wonderful for about two minutes. And then she got raped. And that was the end of everything. (looking at JIM) I was there when it happened. I couldn’t stop it. I tried, but I couldn’t stop it.

JIM. I’m sorry, Howard.

HOWARD. Don’t be sorry. I don’t need your sorrow. Got enough of my own. I haven’t talked to anybody about it since we graduated.

JIM. Maybe you should get some counseling.

HOWARD. How about just letting me get up the nerve to go out to dinner first!

JIM: I was just saying…

HOWARD: I know what you were just saying, for Christ’s sake!

JIM: I didn’t mean…

(With these next eight lines, HOWARD is more soft-spoken than he usually is. His wit and biting words are still there, but his manner is more subdued.)

HOWARD: Yes, you did.

JIM: You didn’t let me finish what I …

HOWARD: You were going to say that I need help because I’m nuts.

JIM: That’s not what I said!

HOWARD: Maybe you didn’t say the words, but it is what you said.

JIM: It’s what you heard.

HOWARD: How could I hear it if you didn’t say it, or at least think it?

JIM: You are impossible sometimes.

HOWARD: Common knowledge. (After a pause, HOWARD sounds beaten and exhausted.) Look, are we going to do this going-out-to-eat thing or not?

JIM. We don’t have to do that tonight, Howard. It’s all right. (Walks over to the fridge.) Maybe we could whip something up here.

HOWARD (stands up) What do I look like, Martha Stewart? (heads for the door.) I had my heart set on going out tonight.

JIM. It’s not necessary.

HOWARD. (turns to him) Yes. It is.

JIM. We could order out.

HOWARD. I want to go out.

JIM. We could make a tuna casserole or something here.

HOWARD. (louder) I want to go out.

JIM. Maybe we could…

HOWARD. (Shouting and stamping the floor) You’re not listening! I want to go out!

(JIM and HOWARD stare at each other for a moment in silence.)

HOWARD. (Quietly) I…I really want go out.

JIM. Really?

HOWARD. Oh, for Christ’s sake!

(He walks purposefully over to the door and opens it wide. JIM walks up behind him. HOWARD hesitates.)

JIM. You sure?

(HOWARD stares uncertainly out into the hallway for a moment. Then, he nods vigorously.)

HOWARD. Of course I’m sure! Let’s go.

(HOWARD steps out the door.)

JIM. All right, then!

(Before JIM can exit, HOWARD rushes back into the room.)

HOWARD. (It takes him a few seconds to catch his breath.) Maybe we could stop off at MacNeil’s Plantland on the way to dinner to buy a new cactus or two. Would that be all right?

JIM. That’d be fine Howard.

HOWARD. (takes a deep breath and looks back out into the hall.) Let’s do this.

(Fade to black before HOWARD leaves room.)

CURTAIN