Leaving Rhode Island: Nebraska

                (ALVA is sitting in front of a mirror brushing her hair.  VERA enters holding a letter.)

VERA:  You’re not going to believe this.

ALVA:  If it’s another marriage proposal, put it in the pile and I’ll get to it when I get to it.

VERA:  It’s a letter from the government.

                (ALVA stops brushing her hair and turns to face VERA.)

ALVA:  I told you paying taxes wasn’t optional.

VERA:  First of all, it’s completely optional.  Second of all, it’s not from the IRS.  It’s from Rhode Island.

ALVA:  Why is the Rhode Island government sending us mail?

VERA:  Because the exile has been lifted.

ALVA:  What?

VERA:  We’re free to go home.

               

                (She brings the letter over to ALVA so she can survey it.)

ALVA:  That can’t be.

VERA:  I told you that you wouldn’t believe it.

ALVA:  This is—

VERA:  I didn’t believe it myself.  I still don’t.

ALVA:  Do you know what this means?

VERA:  Alva—

ALVA:  We have to let Ethan out of the cage.

VERA:  Alva, hang on—

ALVA:  We promised, Vera.  We said if they ever lifted the exile, we’d let Ethan out of the cage and let him go back to Rhode Island where he won’t be able to do any harm.

VERA:  That’s if he goes back to Rhode Island.

ALVA:  Of course he’ll go back.  He doesn’t want to be a bad person, Vera.  He just can’t help himself.  Once he’s back home, he’ll be fine.  We’ll all be fine.  We can all go back home together.  All three of us.  Just like a family.  Things don’t have to change that much.

VERA:  Alva, I…I did something foolish.

ALVA:  What?

VERA:  I…I already let him out.

ALVA:  You…you did what?

VERA:  As soon as I got the letter, I let Ethan out of the cage.

ALVA:  But why would you do that without me?  You must have known I’d want to be there.

VERA:  I was just…excited, I suppose.  I…

ALVA:  Well where is he?

VERA:  He…left.

ALVA:  He’s already on his way back home?  I should have known he’d be eager to get back to Rhode Island.  Well, start packing.  Maybe we can catch a late flight and meet up with him tomorrow morning.

VERA:  He’s…uh…oh dear.

ALVA:  What?

VERA:  He’s not going home.

                (A beat.)

ALVA:  What are you talking about?

VERA:  As soon as I let him out of the cage, he said he was going to Mumbai to kill the unborn child that is destined to destroy him one day.

                (A beat.)

ALVA:  Did he seem angry?

VERA:  Well…no more than usual.

ALVA:  Was he happy to be out of the cage?

VERA:  Oh, very happy.  He only strangled me for a minute or so until his joy overpowered his rage and then he just hugged me in those beautiful arms.

ALVA:  He hugged you?  You got a hug?

VERA:  And the strangling.  Don’t forget the strangling.

ALVA:  So after he kills the unborn child who one day is going to murder him, then what?

VERA:  He didn’t say.  He seemed very disorienting.  I suppose being in a cage for five years will do that to somebody.

ALVA:  Did you remind him why we put him in the cage?

VERA:  I tried, but with his hands around my neck, it was difficult to—

ALVA:  We have to find him.

VERA:  Well, we don’t have to find him, Alva.  We know where he’s going.  We can try to stop him, but I don’t see what good that would do.  He must be halfway to the airport by now.

ALVA:  Then we’ll go to Mumbai.  We’ll meet him there.  We’ll help him destroy his future destroyer and then we’ll all go back to Rhode Island together.

VERA:  Or…we could just…let him go.

                (A beat.)

ALVA:  Let him go?

VERA:  Alva, at some point—

ALVA:  Vera, five years.

VERA:  I know, but—

ALVA:  Five years, Vera!

VERA:  My five years too, Alva.  Don’t forget that.  My five years too.  Not just yours.

ALVA:  I—

VERA:  And you’re not the only one losing something here.  You think I didn’t like sitting with him?  You think I didn’t like hearing him tell me things.  Things about what I could be, what I could do—and all the while me thinking he was lying, that it was too late, that he was just saying these things to make me—to make me—to trick me so I’d let him out.

ALVA:  And he was.  That’s all he was doing.

VERA:  But what if he wasn’t?  What then?  How much have I given up for this?

ALVA:  For something worthy.

VERA:  Don’t talk to me about worth.  You have your pile of proposals.  Men coming to the door at all hours.  What’s one less, huh?  If the cage is empty, who’s really going to cry over it?  You or me?

ALVA:  You think it’s the same?  You think what I felt for Ethan and what I felt for those men is—That’s disgusting.  Ethan was—he’s—I’m like his mother.

VERA:  Don’t be ridiculous.

ALVA:  I am.  We’re inseparable.  He can’t be without me for a day.  He’d—

VERA:  I am his mother.

                (A beat.)

I am his mother and you are just some crazy woman they put me in a cell with twenty years ago.

                (A beat.)

ALVA:  We don’t talk about that.

VERA:  Alva—

ALVA:  We don’t.  Talk.  About that.

VERA:  I should never have taken you with me when I got out.  I knew it was a mistake.

ALVA:  You took me?  Ha.  You took me?!?  That’s rich.  That’s rich, Vera.

VERA:  You were always so confused.  And you made me confused.  You made me do things—

ALVA:  Stop right there.

VERA:  And now Ethan is—

ALVA:  Ethan is in trouble because of what you’ve done.  Because of a choice you made—not me.

VERA:  I never should have had him.  It was selfish.

ALVA:  Don’t talk like that.  He is special.  Do you understand me?  He is special.  He sees things.

VERA:  He’s sick, Alva.

ALVA:  He is not!

VERA:  How could he not be?  Look who raised him.

ALVA:  You did nothing of the sort.  All you did was stand by, clinging to the wall, terrified to get your hands dirty, while I put him in the cage, while I fed him, while I listened to his screams—

VERA:  We should have stayed in Rhode Island.

ALVA:  We couldn’t.

VERA:  No.

                (A beat.)

You couldn’t.

                (A moment.)

ALVA:  Playing this old game again, are we?  I don’t like it, Vera, you know I don’t like it.

VERA:  You got the letter.  Not me.  Not Ethan.  You.  It was for you.

ALVA:  I get so many letters—

VERA:  You’re the reason we had to go.  Because we couldn’t leave you alone.

ALVA:  Please go.  You’re upsetting me.

VERA:  So we had to come here.

ALVA:  I said leave.

VERA:  And you blamed it all on Ethan.

ALVA:  GET OUT!

                (A moment.)

VERA:  Fine.  I…fine.

                (She goes to the door.)

You knew this day would come, didn’t you?

ALVA:  I don’t know what you mean.

VERA:  I think you do.

(She exits.  ALVA goes back to brushing her hair.  The lights go down on her as she brushes slowly, very slowly.)