The Beach

(A beach.  ELISE is looking out at the ocean.  BRADY appears in boxer shorts looking damp.)

BRADY:  Hi.

            (She turns.)

ELISE:  Hi.

BRADY:  It’s hot.

ELISE:  Really…hot.

BRADY:  I was just in the water and I’m already dry.

ELISE:  There’s, like, nobody on the beach.

BRADY:  That’s because there’s a tsunami watch.

ELISE:  Really?

BRADY:  Well, if the comet hits the ocean—

ELISE:  Shoot.  I should probably—

BRADY:  The thing is, no matter where it hits, we’re still screwed.  I mean, a comet that size hits the planet—it won’t really matter where you are.

ELISE:  Yeah, I guess you have a point.

BRADY:  I’m Brady.

ELISE:  I’m Elise.  Nice to meet you.

            (They shake hands.)

BRADY:  Do you, uh, I don’t know—come here often?

            (She laughs.)

ELISE:  My family has a house down that way.

            (She motions offstage.)

BRADY:  My family has a house too…in Pawtucket.  So…

            (He motions north.)

…That way.

ELISE:  So you heard there was a tsunami coming and you decided to drive down here and jump in the ocean?

BRADY:  I tend to, uh—embrace my fears.

ELISE:  Good for you.

BRADY:  You should have a party down at your house.

ELISE:  A party?

BRADY:  Yeah, like a hurricane party, except a ‘Hey, the World’s Ending’ party.

ELISE:  My neighbor had a hurricane party a few years ago.

BRADY:  Oh yeah, did you go?

ELISE:  No, my mom wouldn’t let me.

BRADY:  That’s too bad.

ELISE:  Not really.  Everybody died.

BRADY:  Seriously?

ELISE:  No—sorry.  I have a morbid sense of humor.

BRADY:  It’s okay I—anyway, consider the party then.  I wouldn’t mind dancing a little before the world ends.

ELISE:  I don’t know if anyone would, uh…I don’t usually live here—during the year.  I go to prep school, or I did.  I graduated in May.  And during the summer, I just kind of keep to myself.  I’m not, uh, the best—with people.

BRADY:  That must be hard.  Going back and forth from one place to another.  Where’s your prep school?

ELISE:  New York.  I took the train out of there this morning.  I think I caught the last one.  Everyone’s in such a panic.  I was going to stay there instead of coming back here for the summer since my whole family’s in Europe, but New York is losing its mind, so I figured—why stay?  At least it’s quieter here.

BRADY:  Well especially by the beach.

ELISE:  Yeah.  If you didn’t know better, you’d think everything was fine.  The water’s calm, the sand is cool, the air feels really—light.

BRADY:  I guess the world doesn’t know it’s about to explode.

ELISE:  I guess not.

BRADY:  You know, I did want to com here, but, uh, I didn’t really have a choice in terms of—Um…I got thrown out.  Of my house.

ELISE:  Somebody threw you out of your house?

BRADY:  My mom’s boyfriend.

ELISE:  Is it his house?

BRADY:  No, it’s my Mom’s, but…she sort of...agreed with him.

ELISE:  Agreed with him about what?

BRADY:  Agreed that he should be able to slap her around without me stepping in between them and busting his lip wide open.

ELISE:  So he—they kicked you out?

BRADY:  Told me to get lost.

ELISE:  But the comet—

BRADY:  My mom grabbed me out on the front porch—told me to drive until I couldn’t drive anymore.  She doesn’t get the whole ‘it doesn’t matter where you are’ thing either.  I guess when you’re somewhere as bad as she is, anyplace seems better.  So she told me to drive.  Might be the last thing she’ll ever say to me.

ELISE:  The last thing my mother said to me was ‘We’ll see you when we get back from Italy.’  She’s not answering her phone.  I’m not sure if I should be worried or offended.

BRADY:  Do you not get along?

ELISE:  It’s not so much that we don’t get along as it is that we, uh, barely know each other.  I know, I know—poor little rich girl.  Guilty as charged.

BRADY:  You want to go for a swim?

ELISE:  In the ocean?

BRADY:  No, in a water fountain.  Yeah, in the ocean.

ELISE:  The---

BRADY:  It’s fine now.  Like you said—it’s calm.  Calm before the storm.  We just have to get out before the storm.  We have a few hours at least—that’s if it hits at all.

ELISE:  You know I don’t even know you—

BRADY:  It’s just a swim, not a prom.

ELISE:  I, uh, I—

BRADY:  What?

ELISE:  I don’t know how to swim.

            (He laughs.)

BRADY:  Sooooooo we’ll go in up to your knees, or waist, or whatever makes you feel comfortable.

ELISE:  Can I, uh, um…hang onto you?

            (A moment.)

BRADY:  Sure.

ELISE:  You know, in case there’s a riptide or whatever.

BRADY:  Yeah, that’s—of course.

ELISE:  You don’t mind?

BRADY:  Not at all.  I’m used to people hanging onto me for dear life.

ELISE:  Okay, um, well, I don’t have a bathing suit.

BRADY:  You know these are boxers, right?

ELISE:  Yeah.  They’re really ugly by the way.

BRADY:  Thanks.  I wasn’t really anticipating anybody seeing them.

ELISE:  Mine are even—I mean, I’m not wearing boxers, but—What I have on under here is—they’re bad.

BRADY:  Bad like scandalous bad or—

ELISE:  Bad like Sister Wife Number Three Bad.  Like, clearance rack at Target bad.

BRADY:  Ohhhhh that bad.

ELISE:  Yeah.

BRADY:  Well…I won’t tell if you won’t.  About my ugly boxers and your Target underwear, I mean.

            (A moment.)

ELISE:  Okay.

BRADY:  Okay?

ELISE:  Okay.

            (A moment.)

BRADY:  Get undressed.  I’ll meet you out there.

ELISE:  Okay.

            (He starts to run off, then runs back and kisses her.)

BRADY:  You know—just in case one of those riptides comes along.

            (He smiles.  She smiles.  He runs off.  A moment.)

ELISE:  Oh my God, if the world ends now it’ll be so unfair.

            (She runs off towards the ocean.)(A beach.  ELISE is looking out at the ocean.  BRADY appears in boxer shorts looking damp.)

BRADY:  Hi.

            (She turns.)

ELISE:  Hi.

BRADY:  It’s hot.

ELISE:  Really…hot.

BRADY:  I was just in the water and I’m already dry.

ELISE:  There’s, like, nobody on the beach.

BRADY:  That’s because there’s a tsunami watch.

ELISE:  Really?

BRADY:  Well, if the comet hits the ocean—

ELISE:  Shoot.  I should probably—

BRADY:  The thing is, no matter where it hits, we’re still screwed.  I mean, a comet that size hits the planet—it won’t really matter where you are.

ELISE:  Yeah, I guess you have a point.

BRADY:  I’m Brady.

ELISE:  I’m Elise.  Nice to meet you.

            (They shake hands.)

BRADY:  Do you, uh, I don’t know—come here often?

            (She laughs.)

ELISE:  My family has a house down that way.

            (She motions offstage.)

BRADY:  My family has a house too…in Pawtucket.  So…

            (He motions north.)

…That way.

ELISE:  So you heard there was a tsunami coming and you decided to drive down here and jump in the ocean?

BRADY:  I tend to, uh—embrace my fears.

ELISE:  Good for you.

BRADY:  You should have a party down at your house.

ELISE:  A party?

BRADY:  Yeah, like a hurricane party, except a ‘Hey, the World’s Ending’ party.

ELISE:  My neighbor had a hurricane party a few years ago.

BRADY:  Oh yeah, did you go?

ELISE:  No, my mom wouldn’t let me.

BRADY:  That’s too bad.

ELISE:  Not really.  Everybody died.

BRADY:  Seriously?

ELISE:  No—sorry.  I have a morbid sense of humor.

BRADY:  It’s okay I—anyway, consider the party then.  I wouldn’t mind dancing a little before the world ends.

ELISE:  I don’t know if anyone would, uh…I don’t usually live here—during the year.  I go to prep school, or I did.  I graduated in May.  And during the summer, I just kind of keep to myself.  I’m not, uh, the best—with people.

BRADY:  That must be hard.  Going back and forth from one place to another.  Where’s your prep school?

ELISE:  New York.  I took the train out of there this morning.  I think I caught the last one.  Everyone’s in such a panic.  I was going to stay there instead of coming back here for the summer since my whole family’s in Europe, but New York is losing its mind, so I figured—why stay?  At least it’s quieter here.

BRADY:  Well especially by the beach.

ELISE:  Yeah.  If you didn’t know better, you’d think everything was fine.  The water’s calm, the sand is cool, the air feels really—light.

BRADY:  I guess the world doesn’t know it’s about to explode.

ELISE:  I guess not.

BRADY:  You know, I did want to com here, but, uh, I didn’t really have a choice in terms of—Um…I got thrown out.  Of my house.

ELISE:  Somebody threw you out of your house?

BRADY:  My mom’s boyfriend.

ELISE:  Is it his house?

BRADY:  No, it’s my Mom’s, but…she sort of...agreed with him.

ELISE:  Agreed with him about what?

BRADY:  Agreed that he should be able to slap her around without me stepping in between them and busting his lip wide open.

ELISE:  So he—they kicked you out?

BRADY:  Told me to get lost.

ELISE:  But the comet—

BRADY:  My mom grabbed me out on the front porch—told me to drive until I couldn’t drive anymore.  She doesn’t get the whole ‘it doesn’t matter where you are’ thing either.  I guess when you’re somewhere as bad as she is, anyplace seems better.  So she told me to drive.  Might be the last thing she’ll ever say to me.

ELISE:  The last thing my mother said to me was ‘We’ll see you when we get back from Italy.’  She’s not answering her phone.  I’m not sure if I should be worried or offended.

BRADY:  Do you not get along?

ELISE:  It’s not so much that we don’t get along as it is that we, uh, barely know each other.  I know, I know—poor little rich girl.  Guilty as charged.

BRADY:  You want to go for a swim?

ELISE:  In the ocean?

BRADY:  No, in a water fountain.  Yeah, in the ocean.

ELISE:  The---

BRADY:  It’s fine now.  Like you said—it’s calm.  Calm before the storm.  We just have to get out before the storm.  We have a few hours at least—that’s if it hits at all.

ELISE:  You know I don’t even know you—

BRADY:  It’s just a swim, not a prom.

ELISE:  I, uh, I—

BRADY:  What?

ELISE:  I don’t know how to swim.

            (He laughs.)

BRADY:  Sooooooo we’ll go in up to your knees, or waist, or whatever makes you feel comfortable.

ELISE:  Can I, uh, um…hang onto you?

            (A moment.)

BRADY:  Sure.

ELISE:  You know, in case there’s a riptide or whatever.

BRADY:  Yeah, that’s—of course.

ELISE:  You don’t mind?

BRADY:  Not at all.  I’m used to people hanging onto me for dear life.

ELISE:  Okay, um, well, I don’t have a bathing suit.

BRADY:  You know these are boxers, right?

ELISE:  Yeah.  They’re really ugly by the way.

BRADY:  Thanks.  I wasn’t really anticipating anybody seeing them.

ELISE:  Mine are even—I mean, I’m not wearing boxers, but—What I have on under here is—they’re bad.

BRADY:  Bad like scandalous bad or—

ELISE:  Bad like Sister Wife Number Three Bad.  Like, clearance rack at Target bad.

BRADY:  Ohhhhh that bad.

ELISE:  Yeah.

BRADY:  Well…I won’t tell if you won’t.  About my ugly boxers and your Target underwear, I mean.

            (A moment.)

ELISE:  Okay.

BRADY:  Okay?

ELISE:  Okay.

            (A moment.)

BRADY:  Get undressed.  I’ll meet you out there.

ELISE:  Okay.

            (He starts to run off, then runs back and kisses her.)

BRADY:  You know—just in case one of those riptides comes along.

            (He smiles.  She smiles.  He runs off.  A moment.)

ELISE:  Oh my God, if the world ends now it’ll be so unfair.

            (She runs off towards the ocean.)