Myopia

WINNIE (50s 60s)

DARREN (50s or 60s)

(Winnie and Darren have just finished eating brunch at home and are now reading the paper, sipping mimosas out of champagne flutes. They are wearing robes. Their relationship is old and worn, as is this brunch, a casual weekend ritual. There is nothing special about the occasion, extravagant as it is. Darren notices Winnie’s glass is low and refills it with champagne. She finishes reading her article and closes her section. They swap sections without fanfare.)

WINNIE

(looking out the window, which is not far from the table)

Weird.

(Darren doesn’t react.)

WINNIE

Look. 

(Darren continues reading.)

WINNIE

Darren.

DARREN

Hmm?

WINNIE

Black smoke.

(Darren gazes out the window for a surprising length of time.)

DARREN

(resuming reading)

It’s a chimney.

WINNIE

It’s black.

DARREN

They’re probably cleaning it out.

(Winnie accepts the explanation and resumes reading.)

WINNIE

Enough with John McCain already, who cares about John McCain. What a wretched person.

DARREN

Mmm.

WINNIE

Did you know he called his wife the C-word? I mean years ago.

DARREN

Don’t recall.

WINNIE

Percy told me the other day. It’s not just gossip—she said his staff heard it. Are you listening?

DARREN

Mmm.

WINNIE

He called Cindy McCain the C-Word.

DARREN

That’s not nice.

WINNIE

It’s not just not nice.

DARREN

It’s horrifically not nice. 

WINNIE

It’s not just not nice!

DARREN

I'm glad he lost the election!

WINNIE

Thank you.

DARREN

That crippled old bastard should have died in 'Nam!

WINNIE

Alright, alright.

                                                (The smoke out the window catches Winnie’s eye
                                                again.)

WINNIE

Should we call someone?

DARREN

Want to call the fire department?

WINNIE

Should we?

DARREN

Here.

(removing his cell from his robe pocket and placing it on the table)

Call 9-1-1.

(Winnie stares at the phone for a moment then begins reading again.)

WINNIE

They’re probably just cleaning out the chimney like you said.

DARREN

If you say so.

WINNIE

You call.

(Darren reaches for the phone.)

WINNIE

You’re actually going to?

DARREN

Sure.

WINNIE

But—what are you going to say—there’s smoke coming out a chimney?

(Darren’s phone buzzes with a text before he can dial. He reads it and laughs.)

DARREN

The dog peed in the car.

WINNIE

Who sent that?

(Darren doesn’t answer.)

WINNIE

Who?

(Darren doesn’t answer, typing back.)

WINNIE

Who was that from? Valerie? Oh, Quinn?

DARREN

Quinn.

WINNIE

Won’t we have to pay something if we call and it’s nothing? When we were kids, Dana and I called 9-1-1 and yelled COME SAVE US and mom had to pay a thousand dollars. Or something.

(Darren has finished typing and placed the phone back on the table.)

DARREN

We wouldn’t be playing a prank as concerned citizens.

(Darren picks up the paper.)

WINNIE

So you’re not now?

DARREN

You told me not to.

(Both read.)

WINNIE

Nonsense.

DARREN

Hmm?

WINNIE

This is insane. Let’s put sensors on postal trucks to detect the weather so we can use them as some kind of national weather service. Please, that’s not the job of the postal service.

DARREN

Mmm.

WINNIE

(gazing out the window, sipping her mimosa)

It’s still going.

DARREN

Mmm.

WINNIE

Are we like those people who picnicked during the Civil War?

DARREN

(not looking up from the paper)

Are you watching any charred human beings being carried from the building?

WINNIE

No.

DARREN

Then I suppose not.

WINNIE

It’s been thirty minutes.

DARREN

If you feel that way, call 9-1-1.

WINNIE

I think you should.

DARREN

No.

                                                (Winnie resumes reading.)

WINNIE

If you’re not concerned, I’m not concerned.

DARREN

I’m concerned. I want to see if you’ll call.

WINNIE

What kind of perverted test is that?

(Beat.)

WINNIE

I’m sure it’s nothing.

                                                (Beat.)

Why did Quinn have the dog in the car, did she say?

DARREN

She did not.

WINNIE

I hope they were going to the park or something with the girls. They need space.

(The sound of a siren gradually gets louder, until it’s quite loud. Neither Winnie nor Darren moves. Winnie eventually turns her gaze.)

WINNIE

A fireman is going inside. Another on the roof.

DARREN

Mmm.

WINNIE

Look.

                                                (Beat.)

WINNIE

Darren.

WINNIE

I guess someone called.

DARREN

I suppose they did.

WINNIE

Good. I’m glad. That’s good.

                                                (Beat.)

WINNIE

Happy Valentine’s Day.

DARREN

You too, love. You too.

Photo from http://www.eyefetch.com/profile.aspx?user=osospicy