| Wake-Up Call |
| "Wake-Up Call" is a dialogue between Lydia, a recent admission to a drug-rehab clinic, and Joel, who will soon be released. Joel, who truly understands the real world where Lydia only thinks she does in that arrogant, I-know-everything way,tires quickly of her excuses and justifications for her life and her addiction. He is clean, knows why, and is glad of it. In the course of their conversation, Joel gives Lydia the wake-up call she needs, and it just might be enough to get her back on track. (Setting: Joel sits on one of two benches facing each other on stage center. He is quiet and clearly thinking. Lyda enters from right, sees him and the benches, and wanders over.) Lydia: Is, um, is this seat taken? (Indicates the other bench) Joel: (Shrugs) Go ahead. (Goes back to thinking and staring into space. Slightly awkward pause) Lydia: So... How--how long have you been here? Joel: About five minutes. (Not paying attention) Lydia: (Beat. Doesn't get it for a moment. Understanding finally; laughs shortly and nervously.) Oh, oh, no. I meant here (Looks around to indicate clinic and grounds with her eyes) How long have you been in here? Joel: (Shrugs again. Not really interested in this conversation) About two months, I'd guess. (Pause. She's waiting for him to say something else. He's waiting for her to leave. She doesn't. He sighs, as though resigning himself to the conversation.) You? Lydia: Four days. (The strain of those days is apparent in her voice.) four long, miserable days. How come they make all those patches and gums and junk for smokers and they all work on step-down-gradually programs, but for drug users it's nothing but cold turkey for breakfast, lunch, and dinner? Joel: (Shrugs again. Clearly tiring of the conversation.) Maybe because they're illegal. And you can't O.D. on cigarettes. At least not all in one night. (Pause. Lydia opens her mouth to speak, but Joel, not noticing this, interrupts her.) Why are you here? Lydia: Coke. You? Joel: Heroin. But I meant here as in sitting here talking to me. The grounds are big enough. You could be, you know, somewhere else. Lydia: (Pause. She looks slightly offended by this rather poorly disguised attemt to ask her to leave. Shrugs.) I don't know. I just kind of... walked over here. (Pause) Do--do you want me to leave? Joel: (Does.) Well... If you really wanna stay, you can. Lydia: Okay. Thanks. (Long pause) God, how can you stand this? I feel so damned caged. Like a prisoner or something. Who the hell do these people think they ware, stepping in and messing with my life? What do they think, that when I get out my life's suddenly gonna fill up with opportunities, just because they pulled me off the streets a few weeks? Rehab don't look so hot on a resume, you know. I mean, I was trying to get out of it, and I was doing okay. But it's not like the chance to rise up gets thrown at you out there or something, and I needed it to help me cope with the pain-- Joel: (Finallly fed up with her whining) What do you think this place is, lady? This is your chance to rise up. And yeah, it's hell, and yeah, it's hard, but that's the way it is when you get into a mess like your life probably was. There isn't an easy way out, and it's not the world's job to look out for you and make it easy, so stop complaining. If you wanna survive out here in the real world you're gonna have to kick it in gear. And if you don't, it ain't my problem, or anybody else's. The only person looking out for you is you. Lydia: Who do you think you are, stepping in and telling me how to live my life? Joel: The hell I don't! I've seen a hundred stories like yours, hell, I've lived my own. And let me tell you something: If you keep telling it, no one's gonna listen, they're not gonna feel sorry for you, they're just gonna look down on you. Lydia: How do you know? You haven't gotten out yet. How do you know what it's like outside after this any more than I do? Joel?: This is my third trip through this ride, lady, and let me tell you, the other two, I was just like you. Blaming my problems on the world, refusing to suck it up and help myself. And when I got out, my life was worse than it was before. Lydia: So how do you know this time's different? How can you be sure? Joel: My best friend got shot by a dealer. I decided life wasn't worth some high, and I checked myself in. Lydia: (Pause) Who are you? Joel: I'm just a guy trying to sort his problems out... And not looking to take on anyone else's. Lydia: No, I meant... What's your name? Joel: Oh. Joel. Joel Freeman. Lydia: Oh. I'm Lydia. Lydia O'Neille. Joel: That's, uh, that's nice. Lydia: Well, I guess I'd better go now. Joel: Yeah, why don't you do that? Lydia: (Rises to leave, takes a few steps and stops, turns to look at him) Joel? Joel: (Staring out into space again, jerked out of the trance by her voice) What? Lydia: ... Thanks. Scene. |