An Almost Perfect Thing © 2014 by Nicole Moeller
Playwrights Canada Press
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Cover design and illustration by Sébastien Thibadeau
Book design by Blake Sproule
Author Photo © Fred Katz Photographic
The Alegreya serif typeface used was designed by Juan Pablo del Peral. The Source Sans Pro sans serif typeface was designed by Paul D. Hunt. The typefaces are used under the SIL Open font license version 1.1.
Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication
Moeller, Nicole, author
An Almost Perfect Thing [electronic resource] / Nicole Moeller.
A play.
Electronic monograph in multiple formats.
Issued also in print format.
ISBN 978-1-77091-208-3 (PDF).--ISBN 978-1-77091-209-0 (epub)
I. Title
PS8626.O4325A64 2014 C812'.6 C2013-907999-8
C2013-908000-7
We acknowledge the financial support of the Canada Council for the Arts, the Ontario Arts Council (OAC)—an agency of the Government of Ontario, which last year funded 1,681 individual artists and 1,125 organizations in 216 communities across Ontario for a total of $52.8 million—the Ontario Media Development Corporation, and the Government of Canada through the Canada Book Fund for our publishing activities.
For Jared and Tracy
A Note About the Style of the Play
The scenes in which the characters address the audience directly are indicated throughout the play. In these scenes, each character is telling his/her individual story. They are not interacting with each other, but it is important to note that often one character's line informs or affects the next character's line. The scenes should bleed into each other quickly without solid blackouts. This is especially true of act one, scenes two through nine, which should almost be treated as though they were one.
An Almost Perfect Thing was first produced by Workshop West Theatre at La Cité Francophone, Edmonton, Alberta, in March 2011. It featured the following cast and creative team:
Chloe: Tess Degenstein
Mathew: David Ley
Greg: Frank Zotter
Directed by Michael Clark
Dramaturgy by Tracy Carroll
Set and costume design by Daniela Masellis
Lighting design by Itai Erdal
Composition/sound design by Darrin Hagen
Movement coach: Marie Nychka
Stage managed by Lester Lee
Special acknowledgement: Michael Peng
Characters
Greg: forty
Mathew: in his forties
Chloe: twelve to eighteen
Locations
Multiple settings are used throughout, with Mathew's house and Greg's condo often used on stage at the same time.
ACT ONE
SCENE ONE
To the audience.
GREG
Once upon a time…
MATHEW
There was a girl.
GREG
A woman I guess you could call her by now.
CHLOE bursts onto the stage gasping for air.
A lady.
CHLOE
Bouchard Crescent.
MATHEW
She falls from the sky it seems.
GREG
Out of nowhere, really.
MATHEW
She appears like an angel.
GREG
Clinging to some sort of hope. Like she did for thousands of days before this one.
MATHEW
Waiting—
CHLOE tries to catch her breath.
CHLOE
Smithson Avenue.
MATHEW
—to be saved.
CHLOE
Oak. Pine. Crab apple.
GREG
She races past the houses that once meant something.
MATHEW
Searching, hoping, praying.
GREG
Past that same brown Ford truck that's been rusting in front of that—
CHLOE
—grey house—
GREG
—since she was a little girl. And then she sees it. Like a piece of heaven and hell all mixed in one. She sees it.
CHLOE
Home.
Beat. They all breathe together.
SCENE TWO
Shift. Martini Bar. To the audience.
GREG
I'm at this party. Opening of a new martini bar downtown called Martini Bar. I know four things about most people here:
Career choice.
Accomplishments or lack thereof.
Where they sit on the political spectrum.
Other than that I know as little about them as they do about me.
Beat. He looks around the bar.
Feel the beat of the music in my chest.
Drink burning my throat.
Head light.
Search the bar…
For someone…
Anyone…
Breathe…
SCENE THREE
Police station. To the audience.
CHLOE
(said at the same time as GREG) Breathe…
My dad takes me to the police station. They put me in a small room and—
The sound of a heavy door slamming.
Dad!
Why am I here? Am I in trouble?
—Dad
Don't cry. Bite my cheeks. Dig my fingernails into my hands.
(imitating police officer) "Sorry for the wait there uh, Miss Evans. My name is Constable Peterson, but I want you to call me Ann, okay? We're going to get ya to the hospital in a bit here. But first, how 'bout we retrace your steps. How did you get to your dad's?"
(to audience) Her voice… her body, her smile, the way she holds her hands together like that… She's nervous. I'm not in trouble. I can tell.
(to police officer) I have to go. I have to go to the dentist. My teeth hurt. My teeth hurt so bad. Please. I have to go. I have to go NOW! I HAVE TO GO NOW!
SCENE FOUR
MATHEW's house, upstairs. To the audience.
MATHEW
Chloe!
My head is…
Chloe?
He reaches for her.
The couch…
So groggy…
Chloe?
Fell asleep… I fell asleep…
He looks around for her.
Chloe?
The light…
downstairs…
keys…
The door is… open.
What?
Chloe?
SCENE FIVE
Martini Bar.
GREG
(to woman) Hey—I was hoping I'd see you. How've you been? I've missed you.
(to audience) Alicia. Alyssa? Alyssia…
(to woman) So. You feel
like getting outta here? For old time's sake…
(imitating woman) "Didn't you just turn forty? Aren't you getting a little tired of the one-night stand? Greg."
Beat.
(acknowledging someone across the bar) Hey.
(to the audience) We work together. He's young—younger than me—and he's already moved his way to the top. Traffic report to front page to "number one news blogger." Apparently his Twitter account has about five billion followers.
(to co-worker) This, my friend, is for you. I figure it's time that I—
He takes it and hands me the empty he's holding.
(imitating co-worker) "Thanks."
Asshole. Why do they all love him? Why did he get promoted? Why do I have to—
SCENE SIX
The hospital. To the audience.
CHLOE
(cutting GREG off, as if continuing his line) Why do I have to stay at the hospital?
Why are the police holding my dad? Why won't he stop crying?
(imitating dad) "Chloe! My baby! My baby! Chloe—"
Why don't I feel anything?
They make me share a room.
I lock myself in the bathroom.
I think about him.
I breathe deep 'cause we have a connection and it'll make him breathe deep.
He'll get crazy if he doesn't. Five… four… three…
SCENE SEVEN
MATHEW's house. To the audience.
MATHEW
Two… one…
Search every room.
Outside.
Inside.
She—
Must—
Be—
Chloe—
Somewhere.
Through the house—
Under the beds.
Chairs.
Cupboards.
Chloe—
She said—
She'd never—
Chloe—
Grab my gun.
Grab my gun.
Finger on the trigger.
She said she'd never leave me.
SCENE EIGHT
Martini Bar. GREG wipes sweat from his forehead. To the audience.
GREG
I hate when I sweat. Drips from my forehead. Burns my eyes.
Beat. He looks around the bar.
I'm sick of this shit.
He hails a cab.
I grab a cab and head home.
(to neighbours) Nice night.
My neighbours don't talk. Not even when spoken to.
We ride the seventeen floors in silence.
Go inside.
Turn on the TV.
Make myself a drink.
Rye and ginger.
Go out on the balcony.
Look down on the people below.
Breathe.
Beat.
There are three million people in this city.
If I jumped… if I fell…
Would any of their lives be disrupted… altered… changed?
I imagine, like everyone does sometimes, standing on the railing, looking down on the people below, and then just falling.
Free. Finally…
Beat. Lights up on MATHEW.
And then—
MATHEW
I see it.
GREG
Hear it.
MATHEW
Chloe—
GREG
Evans. Chloe Evans.
MATHEW
A note. Her writing.
GREG
Run inside.
MATHEW
(reading) Dearest Mathew—
Chloe—
GREG
Evans. Eighteen. Missing since she was twelve.
MATHEW
Chloe, no—
GREG
We— I— We— Thought she was dead.
MATHEW
Chloe!
GREG
This was my story. Six years ago this was—
SCENE NINE
To the audience.
CHLOE
(to nurse) I need air. I need to feel fresh air in my lungs.
The sound and lights of flashing cameras.
It hasn't even been a whole day… Their lights—
She shields her eyes.
They push past each other, trip over each other to get to me.
Microphones in my face.
Tape recorders at my mouth.
More cameras, flashing and clicking.
I need to… I want to… I don't know how to—
Beat.
And then I see it.
Lights on MATHEW and GREG.
MATHEW
Turn on the TV.
GREG
Turn up the volume.
CHLOE
My reflection in the camera.
GREG
She looks—
CHLOE
Terrified.
GREG
Weak.
MATHEW
Remember your strength.
CHLOE
Remember my strength. Dig my fingernails into my hands. Bite my cheeks. Breathe. They look like animals.
MATHEW
Hair messy. Sweater crooked.
CHLOE
Desperate.
GREG
Face changed. Eyes the same.
CHLOE
Someone tries to pull me inside. (to nurse) Stop it!
MATHEW
And now—
CHLOE
I lock eyes with all of them. Smile. And say nothing.
MATHEW
I'll go back to the beginning.
CHLOE
Smile and say nothing.
GREG
This is my story.
CHLOE
Because this is my story.
MATHEW
This is my story.
SCENE TEN
Shift. To the audience.
MATHEW
I admit—
CHLOE
—the beginning—
GREG
—is a bit of a blur.
CHLOE
They push me from hospital to police to my dad to psychologists to my dad to police.
GREG
The picture of her smiling is in every newspaper, every news website across the country.
MATHEW
Ever since my mum died, I like to go to the library. On Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. It's a Wednesday when I first see her. The little girl.
GREG
Immediately my editor tells me someone else is assigned to the story.
MATHEW
She sits alone in the corner. Eight feet from where I am.
GREG
Her dad—
CHLOE
My dad—
GREG
It's him I need to talk to.
MATHEW
That leaves her here.
CHLOE
He doesn't have a clue what to say to me.
GREG
Of course he's not talking.
MATHEW
I watch him leave her here alone. For weeks he does this.
GREG
For weeks we hear nothing. The police keep saying the investigation is ongoing.
MATHEW
She's so well behaved. Barely moves a muscle.
GREG
We find out she's refusing to work with the police. They can't force her. She's done nothing wrong. They leave it up to the team of psychologists but—
&
nbsp; CHLOE
No one can make you talk.
GREG
The story goes from national to international.
CHLOE
People follow me everywhere.
GREG
They say she was a runaway in Vancouver, Seattle, Winnipeg, Toronto, New York, London, Beijing. Men take credit for taking her. Women take credit for taking her.
MATHEW
The way she bites her fingernails and sticks her tongue out just a bit when she's writing… the way she smiles whenever she catches me looking at her.
GREG
Media from around the world park outside of her house. Still she says nothing.
CHLOE
I open the curtains. I stand at the window and I stare at them.
MATHEW
I'm drawn to her.
GREG
Lots of people wrote about her six years ago, but not like me. I was in the right place at the right time. For some reason I got exclusive interviews with her father. I sat with him as he cried. He showed me her bedroom, toys, video games. I interviewed her teachers, her friends. It wasn't just a story. I cared about her. About finding her. About catching the person who took her.
CHLOE
No one found me. For six years no one—
GREG
So I feel like I deserve this.
MATHEW
I feel like we're connected.
GREG
But just because you deserve something doesn't mean you'll get it. Because who am I, right? Nobody. Nothing. The words echo through my mind as I drive past her house two, three, four times a day. Follow her as she's driven around the city. Waiting for… something. Anything. A picture. Chance to talk to her. Some new information. You are so pathetic, Greg. I'm about to give up and—
Beat.
It's a random night. A not so random 7-Eleven.
SCENE ELEVEN
Shift. A 7-Eleven. GREG is inside. CHLOE enters. He checks her out, and she notices.
GREG
Go with cinnamon. Always a good choice.
CHLOE
Thank you for the recommendation. But I like spearmint.
She looks at him. He recognizes her. She walks away. He follows.
GREG
Uh…
CHLOE
It's just gum, Mr. Kalowitz.