Falling For You

He was suave and up standing. Almost seeming to never have a care but still caring all the time. His cast was set deep into his wild hair and cut in its design. This isn't to say he was a skinny man. In the sense of the word when you think of skinny. He was however an attractive man in the odd sense of the term. His name was Nephi and I’ll never forget I found him whistling Dixie at the top of a car port in New Mexico. He was sitting on the edge of the concrete railing swaying back and forth.

Woman:
"Hey, do you need help?"
(Walked over to him)
“Hey.”

Man:
(Swayed so far forward)

Woman:
(Grabs Mans shirt and pulls him back to safety.)

Man:
(Hits the safe ground hard)

Woman:
"Are you crazy?!"

Man:
"It’s about time!"
(Gets up and brushes him self off.)

Woman:
“Are you insane?"

Man:
"I would have never had to do what I did if you would have had half a mind to come sooner. Well not you, maybe someone like you. Some one always has to stop me; tell me I can’t do it. But not this time."
(Back on ledge)

Woman:
"What is that supposed to mean. I am not-"

Man:
"I’ll be asking the questions thank you. First of all, are you real?"

Woman:
“What?”

Man:
“I mean are you a real person? I have to know.”
(Stretches out a hand and tries to touch woman.)

Woman:
“You are being irrational. Stop. Please.”
(Kicks the man between the legs)

Man:
(Falls over)
“Yeah you’re real alright.”

Woman:
(Runs but stops thinks’ about it and feels sorry for the man)

Man:
“Just run away from your humanity. Just leave already.”

Woman:
“No, what are you talking about? I am interested now, you are the one running away.”

Man:
“You know it’s really more of a jump and not a, never mind”
(Stands back up on the edge of the parking garage. And opens his arms like a bird)

Woman:
“You do not have to jump you know.”
(Starts to cry)

Man:
“Are you still there?”
(Arms down looks back)
“What are you doing? Why are you crying for me?”
“Hey you don’t even know me.”
(Goes over to Woman)
“Come on, stop this. There is no need to cry.”

Woman:
(Cries even harder)

Man:
“Hey, hey, why are you crying?”

Woman:
“Because you were going to jump and kill yourself.”

Man:
“Oh no, I wasn’t going to die. I would have… just… it would have been happier.”

Woman:
“You are lying.”

Man:
“Listen; why do you care?”

Woman:
“I do not care about you; I just did not want some one to die in front of me.”
(Cries)

Man:
“Then walk away, I’m going to a better place.”

Woman:
“No.”

Man:
“Why?”

Woman:
“I don’t know-oh-oh-oh.”
(Cries)

Man:
“Hey I’m sorry, ok.”
“Stop”
“Please.”
“I hate it when people cry.”

Woman:
“Can I ask a question?”

Man:
“Really, hey if you want to ask a question just ask it.”

Woman:
“But you said that you where going to be the one asking the-”

Man:
“I did didn’t I. Well think for your self alright. Ask all the questions you want.”

Woman:
“Ok, why do you want to kill yourself?”

Man:
“Hey that’s a little much we would be here all night.”

Woman:
“But you said I could ask a question.”
(Cries)

Man:
“Ok, ok, all I’m saying is we should start out slow. Like you should ask me my name or-”

Woman:
“What is your name?”

Man:
“I really normally don’t tell people my name….”

Woman:
“No, I want to know your name.”

Man:
“If I tell you will you stop crying?”

Woman:
(Nods)

Man:
“My name is Nephi (Ne-fee) please to meet you.”
(Puts hand out to shake. But no response from the Woman other then…)

Woman:
“How do you spell that?”

Man:
“N-E-P-H-I, why does that matter?”

Woman:
“That sounds like Nephi (Neefiye) and not Nepihe (Nepihe) Nepihe would be spelled. N-E-P-I-H-E, not N-E-P-H-I”

Man:
“What does that matter?”

Woman:
“I do not know; I just like spelling things I guess. I am Sara.”
(Giggles, hand out to shake)
“Umm, why where you going to kill yourself?”

Man:
“Oh no, not this again.”

Woman:
“No tell me that is what I would like to know.”

Man:
“No, you are making this really hard. Oh please don’t cry.”

Woman:
(Cries)

Man:
“Hey, hey, if I tell you will you stop crying.”

Woman:
(Looks, nods and wipes eyes, stops crying.)

Man:
“Ok, well I’ve never made it. I’m a failure. Not even good at the things I like to do. Like writing and acting. I could go get a steady job. But that’s not what I want. I’d rather just die.

Woman:
(Gives man a look. Blink’s)

Man:
“You see every one has always told me I couldn’t do it. Even my parents, and I can’t; my spelling and grammar are horrible. I can’t do anything about it. The world doesn’t except me. If I can’t write if I can’t do art to make a living, life isn’t worth living. Don’t you understand?

Woman:
(Blinks and looks)

Man:
“I’ve spent all my money I’m in det. I’ve been partying for 3 weeks strait, if I didn’t want to kill myself then, I would surely want to kill myself now.

Woman:
(Tilts Head)

Man:
“People have killed them selves over stupider things. Wars, bad food, plastic surgery, religion, parking tickets, love, loneliness, bad play writing…”

Woman:
“I get what you are saying. But those are all bad reasons to kill your self. (Beat) Who have you known that has killed them selves over bad playwriting? I mean really, really why do you want to kill yourself?”

Man:
(Man looks up with sadness in his eyes.)
“My lover she was wonderful. I, I miss…She had been in and out of the hospital for 3 years with advance kidney failure. I would bring her my work to look over every time I had something new. She loved it. She was my life line my crutch and I was hers, I thought. When she was sad I would help her. She saw how I was living threw my writing the good and the bad.”

Woman:
“What happened?”

Man:
(Walks back onto the concert railing sits.)
“I should have sheltered her. She wanted me to move on, become something grater then my self, better then I was, almost super human. One day she got sad really deprest and there was nothing I could do. We got in a argument and I left her in the hospital bed crying. I had done it before; some times you just have to… I got that call, she didn’t just die, she could have told me. She did it, signed the papers, she pulled the plug and refused treatment, all with out telling me. I don’t understand it. I have no friends, no family, no one that cares about me, no one-”

Woman:
“I care about you.”

Man:
“You do, but you hardly even know me, why do you care about me?”

Woman:
“I do not know.”

Man:
“You don’t know? Oh, you don’t know. You don’t really care about me do you?

Woman:
“No I care about you.”

Man:
“Right, I’m sure you do. Well then, I’m not going to jump. Never was.”

Woman:
“Really…”

Man:
“Yeah… Yes.”

Woman:
(Hugs Man.)

Man:
(Not embracing hands down in fists holding breath.)

Woman:
“Why, why are you holding you breath?”

Man:
“Force of habit.”

Woman:
“Please Breathe. Before I let you go.”

Man:
“No.”

Woman:
“Yes.”

Man:
(Shakes Head)
(Breathes in)

Woman:
(Lets go)
“Now was that so bad?”

Man:
“No, no it wasn’t.”

Woman:
(Plays with the Man’s collar fixing it.)
“Come sit.”

Man:
(Sits, is very sad, crying.)

Woman:
“First, you did nothing wrong.”

Man:
“I knew it…”
(Stands on the concrete ledge)

Woman:
“My father killed him self.”

(Silence)

Woman:
“My father killed him self when I was 9. He was on the couch and I was in the room with him. He had something to drink in a plastic cup. I remember it was plastic; I crawled up onto his lap and hugged him. I remember his heart was beating like a drum. He started to cry and so we held each other. I asked him why he was crying but I do not remember what he said. I held him until he stopped spasming; until I could not hear his heart any longer. I asked him what was wrong. I made believe that if we held each other just a little longer that he then would start breathing again. We held each other until my mother came in and took me away. I faked sleep so she would not take me away. But she found me there in my father’s arms; and I do not remember anything after that. (Beat) Do you think killing your self will really be what she wants you to do?”

Man:
“Well I-”

Woman:
“If you kill yourself she dies in vain you don’t want that do you?”

Man:
“Well that’s not-”

Woman:
“Let me hear some of your work. I will tell you if it is any good or not, I am an editor after all.”

Man:
“You’re and editor?”

Woman:
“Yes.”

Man:
“Well I have some of my writing right here. I was going to jump with it and…”

Woman:
(Grabs the parchment from the man)

(They share a look.)

Woman:
It was as if in that moment of passion she didn’t exist in my arms any longer. Yes she was there but not fully. And I was alone. Alone once again. But only for a short time longer. Should I still speak? Speak of time, and deeds long since forgotten. Leave the forgotten to the dead. Let them deal pain where pain is due. But the truth, the real fact is, the dead can’t sing. They need us in every single way, in order for them to become forgotten.

And now that I hath done it I can say it. She just stood there alone and I alone with her.
“Is this it?” she asked bare and exposed like a child without a fairytale. Unexpected fear in her eyes. I didn’t answer her. But I did put my hand on her and looked upon her beauty. We left and it was over. In my mind I remember her real. In my mind she is standing before me. In my mind she will never leave me. Standing in my arms embraced, always and forever.

Woman:
“This is...”

Man:
“I wrote it.”

Woman:
“Yes I know you wrote it. But this is horrible. You spelled passion wrong, and embraced is an E not I and...”

Man:
(Looks sad)

Woman:
“It is nothing that can not be worked out.”

Man:
“So you think its ok?”

Woman:
“I think it is better then ok, I think it is great.”

Man:
“Well you sure have an odd way of saying it.”

Woman:
“Sorry. I would love to work with you. If you have more things like this.”

Man:
“I do, lots.”

Woman:
(Giggles)
“I know of this really good coffee shop, over there.” (Points) “Would you like to get a cup of coffee?”

Man:
“I think that would be good right now. What was your name again?”

Woman:
“Sara.”

Man:
“Ok, well Sara should we go?”

Woman:
“We shall.”

(Walks off stage, Woman giggles.)