The Worlds A Stage

Yesterday - Act 1 Scene 1 "Creamy White Envelope"

Act 1
Scene 1
Creamy White Envelope

Future Bianca - There is a time in every person’s life when they realize that a transition  has to be made. A time when one must declare adulthood and let go of all of the things that holds them back. Yesterday, my number was up. You must excuse me; I was never too good with introductions. Lets see, how ‘bout the general info, huh? That should do for now. I mean, if you’re gonna hear my story, you mind as well hear it all. I was born Bianca Forrester but my friends call me Bee. I am the Executive Editor for “The New York Times.” Not so long ago, I was just another naïve writer; sending in my stuff to every magazine and newspaper in the city. I finally got my foot in the door thanks to Nora Hilton. Bless her heart, after giving it a lot of thought, she gave me my first big break. I started out as the errand girl and worked my way up to columnist. Even still, I worked my way up past countless herds of sexist pricks into the high paying position I currently hold. Talk about blow up. But it didn’t come easy, ya know. I had to work many late nights, long hours, kissing a great deal of ass. And let me be the first to say, corporate ass is no Brad Pitt!
I live all my lonesome in a fancy shmancy apartment on the Upper East Side. I know, I know…..you’re wondering why a girl like me is single. Well, if you are, then shame on you. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with a woman choosing the single life. Let me emphasize the word choosing. But if you must know, my lack of a marital status or anything closely resembling one it the result of much need analysis, thank you very much! To be honest, it does get a little lonely at the top, cocky aint I? But its just one of the many benefits of being  successful and having a decent amount of standards. Half of the losers I’ve actually considered couldn’t keep up anyway. Several were upset with the fact that I made more money then they did. I know James Brown said this is a mans world but look at him. Exactly my point! One guy even went as far as asking me to quit my career so we could get hitched. What the hell do I look like, Mrs. Brady?          Lets see, Married with Children or Sex and the City? Now the ladies know where I’m going with this. Seriously though, if you can’t commit, why waste anyone’s time and “give it a try.”
There I go again, ranting and raving. Anyway, this little connection we have has nothing to do with          my inability to settle down. Its about something greater than that. Something bigger. Way bigger as a matter of fact. Its about the past and the present coming together, drinking a few Cosmo’s and trying to fuck up your future. Okay, so yesterday I get this……damn it. I just did it again. Lets          rewind the tape back a couple of years. Okay maybe more than a couple but that is none of your damn business anyway.

Past Bianca - I was seventeen with an attitude. I was the official tomboy, baggy jeans and all. Having a masculine attitude helped out a lot through my senior year of high school. With a population of over five thousand, Clinton was a tough place to fit in. But if you picked the right people to socialize with, like me, all would go your way. And it did. My mother worked the graveyard shift at some nursing home on Tremont Ave. She was never home long enough to eat dinner with me or ask how my grades were going  but she always had time to bitch about how I looked or what I was doing.

Debra - Since when did I raise a boy? Jesus Bee, why couldn’t you ever be like Caroline? She always had such a good head on her shoulders. And she always presented herself so well, with those cute skirts and her hair was always done up nice. You know, no real man is going to marry you if you look like their younger brother.

Past Bianca - Yeah Ma, she was a pretty girl. I’ll give you that. But she’s dead now and I doubt any guy is gonna marry a rotting corpse. So I guess its my way or no way, huh?

Present Bianca - My mother and I fought over my innocent older sister all the time. To my mother, Caroline was just a tour guide. But to everyone else, she was just another high quality prostitute that let the game catch up with her. She had gone out that night, said she’d be back by midnight. The cops said she was dead by 10:47. Apparently, she was giving some guy a tour and he wanted more. When she said no, he strangled her and screwed her anyway.  Nice, huh? Even still, my sister remained the perfect angel and I was the demon spawn from hell.

Past Bianca - There aint nothing wrong with the way that I dress. My friends happen to like my style. And at least I’m not out there shaking my ass for money like your little cherub.

Present Bianca - Oh boy, I think I overdid it on the last part. It sounded so much better in my head.

Debra - You little shit! Your sister has nothing to do with you being such a loser. Don’t talk trash on my baby just because you let yourself go to the dogs. Oh, and those little queer friends of yours. Of course they like the way you dress, dirty Italian bastards. They want you as their errand boy by day and their blow up doll by night. You don’t think I know what you do? I hear all about it. I may be out of style but being a whore aint nothing new.

Present Bianca - That bitch. She swore like I fucked the world. I knew I wouldn’t win. No matter how hard I tried, I would never make her see me. The person underneath it all. Granted, I hung out with the guys on the corner but it was better then hanging with the neighborhood chicks. All they talked about was abortions and blowjobs. Nothing that I was interested in, those prissy bitches were nothing but trouble. Ya damn right whoring wasn’t invented in my day, that was her copyright. We fought like that non-stop. There was never an end to our fistfights and cursing storms. And then, just when shit got deep, she left to work. Always, no matter what we were talking about, if it was something she didn’t want to deal with, she’d grab her things and head to the job. But of course, run from the truth. That night after she had closed the door behind her, I felt awful. I was alone and confused. I considered the thought of calling her at work, hoping to make amends. I finally followed my instincts and made the call.

Future Bianca - I thought I should apologize for what I said about Caroline. I knew, deep down inside, that she blamed herself for my sisters death. I was never one to admit I was wrong but concerning Caroline, I was willing to make an exception.

(Picks up phone and calls mothers job.)

Past Bianca - Hey Marcus, I was just looking for my mother….off, what do you mean off? Off as in how?

Marcus - Off as in she aint scheduled to work. Why, who’s this?

Past Bianca - This is Bee. Marcus, do you know where she’d be, by any chance? Cuz she said she was going to work…..

Present Bianca - Why hadn’t she said something? Maybe she went to one of the other branches and Marcus just didn’t know.

Marcus - Hey sweetie, how’s everything? I heard about your dad, how’s that going?

Past Bianca - Yeah, yeah, he’s fine.

Present Bianca - Did it really matter? What the hell was going on? I couldn’t think straight.

Marcus - Okay listen, I’m not suppose to disclose such information but for you, I can make an exception. She took her vacation two days ago. She isn’t due back until next Thursday. Why, is there something the matter?

Present Bianca - What the hell did Marcus know anyway? He was just a rent-a-cop. All I could think of was, wait ‘til the that bitch gets home. So I wake up the next day to find the house empty. It was a bit after one and my mother wasn’t home. I checked her room to see if she had passed through but her sheets were still made from the night before. Despite it all, that wasn’t the kind of person my mother was. Or was it? At first, I was concerned. But she was a grown woman, she could fend for herself. I went about my business as usual. I took a shower, dressed myself and headed for the door. I arrived at the hospital for my daily visit. I was there so often that the nurses knew what food and magazines I wanted for my stay. I usually made an hour visit before heading off to work.
Past Bianca - That night, I returned from work to find the house the way it was when I left. As a matter of fact, that house stayed empty for the two weeks that followed. I was stunned. I hadn’t received a letter or a phone call. Not even a fucking post card. I figured her vacation would’ve been over. Even still, I was left with absolutely nothing. The rent was due in another week and my job wouldn’t cut it. I packed my things and went to my best friends house. What other choice did I have. I fed her mom some bullshit story about my mom kicking me out and that was that.

Present Bianca - I wondered about calling the cops. Don’t get me wrong. I considered whether I should declare her as a missing person. Well, your not lost if you choose not to be found and obviously, her leaving was her way of saying “leave me alone.” And that’s exactly what I did. I graduated and went on with my life. My visits to the hospital were no longer necessary although the doctors recommended I seek some sort of professional help for the depression that followed. With what money? Over the next few years, I traveled quite a bit with some hippie group on an old school bus. I asked them to drop me off in some town on the west coast but ended leaving before the month was over. Whenever I tried to settle down in one spot, I found myself on the next bus out. It was all pointless really. I just ended up returning to The Big Apple when I was twenty one. I attended college and found my passion.  Okay, so here we are, present day. Earlier I said yesterday my number was up, and boy, I wasn’t shittin’ you.

Future Bianca - It started out like any other Tuesday. Cloudy and a bit muggy. The weatherman said it was suppose to rain hard. I woke up feeling energetic and went about my usual routine. I bumped into Mrs. Bentley, my neighbor from two doors down. Now, don’t get me wrong, she’s a nice lady but the woman is nothing but a busybody. Always talking about someone. I tried to keep our conversations to a minimum. I have found that its always safer in the end if you just keep yourself occupied when passing through the third floor, that’s the floor I share with Mrs. Bentley if you haven’t caught on yet. She stood in the same spot everyday, right by the elevator. There was no way of getting around her. Didn’t she have something better to do? Like her husband? Where was Mr. Bentley anyway? For Gods sakes, didn’t he have a leash for the wife? We’d followed the same routine for the past two years.

Mrs. Bentley - Good morning, sweetheart. How was your evening?

Future Bianca - She looked so sincere but I knew better. She was just waiting for me to give her the cue to spill someone’s private business. I needed to get to work but ignoring her just didn’t feel right. What if I didn’t feed into her game? Then she’d just be another useless old woman with no purpose in life. It was my civic duty to make her feel useful. She was my personal CNN with twenty four hour coverage. And I wont deny it, it can be somewhat interesting….

Present Bianca - Oh, my evening, same old. How’s the weather this morning?

Mrs. Bentley - oh, fine. Just grand. A nice day for  a walk in the park.

Future Bianca - Obviously, she hadn’t been outside in a week. Or maybe it was her optimism. It could be hailing nuclear atomic weapons but in this sweet woman’s eyes, there could only be sunshine.

Mrs. Bentley - Did you hear about Mr. David’s That poor man found his wife humping around with some delivery boy. Does that woman have no shame? A delivery boy, really. Can you believe that? In his own bed. I heard from a reliable source that he just packed his stuff up from around them and left, even closed the door behind him so they could finish in peace. What a world, huh?

Future Bianca - Amazing! Is that what old age is all about? Feeding off of others mishaps as a source of adrenaline? If it is, I want to be shot by the time I hit thirty-nine.
Walk into elevator, waves goodbye to Mrs. Bentley as the door closes.

Future Bianca - He’s acting like he’s on Apollo 13. Dude, its an elevator. And then I started thinking, who is this guy? Where does he go when the days over. I had never spoken to him in the two years that I lived in the building. To be honest, I cant say that I ever saw him as a person before. I always saw him as some part of the elevator. Maybe it was the coffee but something told me that I should try to talk with him, learn about who he is. I mean, what if he died and I never had the chance to say another word to him besides “lobby please” and “third floor please.”…..So what’s the weather like out there?…..yeah, that was an Emmy winner. Is that all people talk about around here? The weather and the Yankees damn it!

Guy - Excuse me?

Present Bianca - Oh, I just wanted to say hi. We’ve never actually spoken before. I just thought…well….never mind.

Guy - So why start now?

Present Bianca - What?

Guy - You said we’ve never spoken before. You’re a tenant and I’m just another servant that attends to your every need, so why start now? She pulls a quarter out of her pocket and flicked it at the elevator attendant as she walked out of the doors.

Present Bianca - Take that to your wife.

Future Bianca - Dirt bag, that’s why you work in an elevator and I have my name on my office door. We can tell who the winners from the losers. That boy is an obvious loser! Fuck him, I’ll talk to the manager of the building and have him fired before the week is over. Hey, I never said I was nice….Anyway, so the entire ride to my office consisted of me analyzing the contents of what went on in the elevator. The cab driver kept trying to make conversation, totally messing up my train of thought.

Cab driver - Yeah, so my wife says she doesn’t think it’s a good idea if I send the kids to Maryland. I tried to tell her that my sister will mind them well but all she can see is the negative.

Future Bianca - He was pissing me the hell off. Do I look like I care about his wife, or where the kids were sent for vacation, no, not really…..

Present Bianca - Why don’t you just shut the fuck up and drive the damn car. If I wanted to hear someone babble on I would’ve rode the damn subway and sat next to Mr. Hobo…..

Future Bianca - It amazes me how people in the city just spewed out their personal information to just about anyone that would listen.

(Bianca walks into the hall of her office. Lydia is sitting at her desk, talking on the phone. She is scribbling notes on a paper but the conversation is apparently not work-related.)

Present Bianca - That girl could talk. She made more personal phone calls then everyone in the building, combined. But I let it slide, she was fresh out of college and eager to please. She’d never forgot a message and was always on time. Hell, I didn’t pay the phone bill anyway. Run that shit! She never even tried pretending that she was working.
         
(Lydia waves a notepad in the air.)

Future Bianca - I’ve got messages……Sitting behind my desk, I sorted through the days top stories. Where the hell did half of this garbage come from? Junk, junk, and more junk. You would think I worked for the sanitation department the way I was always surrounded by garbage. But no, just another days work for the executive editor of one of the most read newspapers in the north-east.

(Lydia walks in and sits across from Bianca.)

Future Bianca - She’s a pretty girl really, but for some odd reason, she seems…..a bit ugly. Something about her just makes me want to turn away. Maybe it was her attire, the way she presented herself. I had hinted many times by buying her an unexpected presents. Sometimes, it was a shirt or maybe a professional makeup set. But she never used anything I bought her. For awhile, I felt bad but you cant change the world., I suppose. After the third try, Amy from unit twelve asked if that could be regarded as sexual harassment. Shit, I never thought of that. Soon after that, the gives stopped.

Lydia - Vincent called again. He wants to know if you’d be interested in accompanying him to dinner tomorrow evening.

Future Bianca - You can tell a lot about a guy by where he offers to take you out to dinner. The ones that go all out usually have something to hide so they try to use the money to make themselves look better. Then there are the ones that are just broke. Vincent Lancaster was not a poor man. As the son of Richard Lancaster, founder of the third top law firm in the U.S, Vincent gained a fine outlook on the competitive world. With so much interest in financial investing, be became a successful financial agent for such people as Ted Turner, Bill Ford, and Jerry west. The man was extremely far from broke…….Where? Lets see what the boys got up his sleeve.

Lydia - he said its all up to you. He left his cell number so you could let him know personally what you wanted to do. He asked if you got his last message. I told him that you’ve just been so busy lately so I doubted it.

Future Bianca - I’ve trained her well. Sometimes, you’ve got to keep a little to get a little more. Sometimes a little white lie was best for all parties involved. So, he walks me to make the decision. Well, that’s odd. What does he take me for, some kind of power hungry, dominant yuppie? Like I give off some sort of “my way or the highway” attitude. Typical, he wants to capture my heart by letting me take control….Get him on the phone. What other messages you got for me?….Okay, I would talk to him but that didn’t mean I’d go out with him!

Lydia - Rachel Winston called. She wants to know if you received her article. Other then that, there were just a few little things. But its all stuff I can take care of over the phone; lunches, banquets, arrangements for next weeks layouts, you know…just the usual.

Future Bianca - Lydia always takes care of me. She has so much she can be doing but here she is, in here earlier than I am, ready to start the day. Defiantly got to get this girl a raise, dealing with me, she deserves it.

Lydia - Oh, I almost forgot. This was in your mailbox this morning. There’s no return address. I wasn’t sure if you wanted me to screen it first. I mean with all of….you know.

Future Bianca - Lately, we’ve been having people sending in the same shit over and over. Don’t people realize that when I say no, that’s exactly what the hell I mean?  Also, with the whole anthrax thing, people here have been really freaked out. If you’ve got die, its got to be of something interesting…..no thanks, I’ll take it from here. Packages came all the time from desperate writers trying to get their big breaks. Most of them think they could con me into reading their shit. there are even those that assumed if they sent the same shit over and over, that I would publish them out of pity. I think not! What sorry excuse is it this time?…No thanks, I can take it from here. Its probably another copy of that shitty article I got yesterday. 

(As Lydia leaves the room, the phone begins to ring. Bianca presses the speaker button.)

Present Bianca - Bianca Forrester, speak to me.

Vincent - Hello Bianca darling, this is Vincent. Did you get my message? Lydia said you’ve been busy so I didn’t know if she actually got to you yet.

Present Bianca - Yes, I have. I just walked in the door and that’s the first thing I heard. You’re an eager little pisser, aint ya?

Vincent - Well, I don’t take no very well, as you can tell. Just thought if I left you enough messages, you would take pity on me and spare me the pain of another night alone.

Present Bianca - Another night?

Vincent - Bianca love, If I wanted to lay you down on a bed of rose petals, I would have tried something different. I just want to have a meal with you. And maybe one day, you will know what rose petals will feel like.

Present Bianca - Well…

Vincent - Did I step over the line?

Present Bianca - No, no, you’re…..fine….really.

Vincent - So should I leave the schedule open or do I need to enter some meeting into this little gadget?

Future Bianca - Those words, so many of them, kept running through my brain. “Dominant, power hungry, yuppie.” And then the sound of his voice on the line. God, give me the strength to resist his beauty!…..Make reservations for Kameda at seven. Will that do good for you?…..I liked him. I liked him a lot. He was charming. Dark hair, smoke colored eyes, 6’4, and a businessman. He was a good guy. A workaholic who happened to be a perfect gentleman. He made more money in a month then I made in six. He lived the good life kept humble character. So why was I so hard on him? Because I was unsure how I would affect him. More so, I was fearful of how he would change me. I was a stone at heart but his sweet antics made me weak at the knees.

Vincent - You can only hide from me for son long, love.

Present Bianca - How about Kameda at seven? Will that work for you or is earlier better?

Vincent - That’s perfect. Will you need me to send  a car over to pick you up? I wouldn’t want you to ride in one of those awful taxi’s.

Future Bianca - He was such a simple man for himself but when it came to others, nothing was ever good enough. His concern was, in some weird way, an aphrodisiac for me. When we speak, each word made me want him ten times more then the last. But I wouldn’t let him know all of this. Not yet, at least. It was too soon. Its always too soon concerning me.

Vincent - Not to say that you couldn’t get one on your own, I thought it would…..

Present Bianca - No, its okay. I thank you but I’ll be fine. I’ll see you tomorrow.

Future Bianca - Every word was like a rare painting, something to hold in the mind for awhile.

Vincent - That’s fine then. I’ll be the love sick puppy in the corner. Ciao bellisima.

Future Bianca - Priceless! He swore he was in love with me. I still don’t see how that’s possible but you never know. Sometimes, the most unexpected things should be expected. that’s how this crazy world works.

(Bianca reaches for the envelope and opens it.)

Future Bianca - This was a letter that would change my life more than anything I had ever laid my eyes on before. The letter was signed Debra F. Sawyer. It was a simple invitation to meet for brunch at Yolanda’s. At first, it didn’t click. I loved Yolanda’s but I hadn’t been there in years. The last time I was there was……SHIT!

(Bianca puts the envelope down on the desk. She puts her head into her hands.)

Future Bianca - Why now? After so many years, I was stunned. The curves in the penmanship. It all amazed me. Maybe it was close to the end and  it was time to resolve the issues that remained so deep in the corridors of my mind. Maybe it was guilt that caused this letter to land on my desk.

(Bianca calls Lydia into her office. Lydia is holding a pen and notepad. She appears nervous.)

Lydia - What can I get you?

Present Bianca - Don’t worry, you still have a job. Do me a favor, call Prestige and get me a ride to Yolanda’s.

Lydia - Sure. Anything else I can do for you?

Present Bianca - No, that will be all. Thanks.

Lydia - Okay, I’ll get right on that!

Future Bianca - How was I suppose to react to this? Was I suppose to jump for joy? I was an important person in the world, damn it! The morning went by slowly. Every paper I touched turned to dust. Lydia brought me a cup of coffee, trying to figure out what the hell was going on. I’m sure she thought her job was somehow in jeopardy. That was the farthest thing from my mind, to be honest with you. I just wasn’t myself. I went from being Bee to being Bianca Forrester. I would just go in there and be me and show how far I had come. I prayed that could bring pain., hold on to the hatred that fueled me so often. I smoked like a damn chimney, waiting for my ride. I started smoking about a long time ago, after my best friend died. Thank God my father never saw me lighting up, he would be so ashamed. Thank God he didn’t live to see a lot of things. People leave you and you wish for so long that they hadn’t. But you cant hold on to everyone. I wasn’t strong enough to hold on to them, to save them.
(Bianca grabs her purse. She pulls a medium white box from a safe behind her desk. She walks into the elevator. In doing so, she bumps into a cocky looking man.)

Future Bianca - If that day hadn’t been shitty, I bump into Rick Warner. He was the useless bastard that wanted my job. He would stop at nothing to get into my office before getting into my pants. He wanted nothing more than anything to take my job and my dignity in one fine swoop.

Rick - Hey honey. I was just talking to Omar about you plans for the new layout. It seemed a little weak around the edges but I guess it’s a start.

Present Bianca - Right.

Rick - Anyway, how about you join me for the banquet on Saturday. I think it could be fun. So, what do you think?

Future Bianca - Like I was a fucking ornament. A piece of jewelry. The sight of his face disgusted me. He loved to shit on me in front of our peers but smother me with honey when no one was around.

Rick - I know it’s a lot for you to handle right now, how ‘bout you get back to me on that one.

Present Bianca - I don’t think that’s a good idea, you see, I’m allergic to morons. But I bet you can run down to the playground and find someone willing to hear you drone on for the next 20 years. We all know how you like them young and stupid.

Rick - Oh, I see. Playing hard to get, are we? I understand. I would recommend making up your mind sometime soon. I’ve had a lot of offers!

Future Bianca - Yeah, a lot of offers to jump off a fucking bridge!