"Afterglow" by Eric C. Peterson all rights reserved for performance or publishing rights to this play, please contact: Eric C. Peterson 3210 University Blvd., West Kensington, MD 20895 A man and a woman (hereafter named HE and SHE) are sitting up in a large double bed. HE is covered by the bedsheets, but by all appearances is naked underneath. SHE is wearing a "teddy" or a slip. They will remain this way for the remainder of the play. Each scene in the play is a conversation that HE and SHE share after sexual intercourse. Scenes can be separated by simple blackouts or various music cues or sound effects at the discretion of the director. Scene 1 The lights slowly rise on the couple in bed. HE is lying down, facing the wall on his side of the bed, nervous. SHE is sitting up, facing forward, possibly tying her hair back, very relaxed in comparison. HE slowly turns to look at her, then away. Suddenly, she turns around to face him, but his gaze has already been averted elsewhere. A few seconds later, HE turns to face her again, and this time she catches him, and they remain in eye contact for an uncomfortable period of time, until HE finally breaks it off, allowing her to do the same. HE. Did you like it? SHE. What? HE. Did you...like it? SHE. Did I like what? HE. You know...It. [HE gestures to her as if to suggest that the identity of "It" should be very obvious.] SHE. Oh, that. I don't know. HE. What do you mean, you don't know?! SHE. I mean I don't know! [pause] Why? HE. Why what? SHE. Why do you ask? HE. Oh, nothing. I was just curious, that's all. SHE. Oh. [short pause] Did you like it? HE. Y--Yeah. SHE. Good. I read somewhere that men always like it. HE. That's not necessarily true. SHE. Have you ever not liked it? HE. No, I guess not. SHE. See? HE. [pause] How can you not know whether you liked it or not?! SHE. I don't know. HE. Don't you remember it? SHE. Not particularly. HE. But it just happened! SHE. So? HE. So why don't you remember it? SHE. I don't know, I--I s'pose I just don't think about it very much, as it's happening. HE. Oh. SHE. And why should you care if I liked it or not, anyway? You had a good time. HE. It's just important to a guy, that's all. SHE. Why? HE. It just is. SHE. Well...don't worry about me. I'll let you know if I'm not enjoying myself. HE. I...can't... SHE. Can't what? HE. I can't just let it go like that. SHE. Why not? As long as you're having fun-- HE. It's just that...when a man is making love to a w-- SHE. What?! HE. I said...when a man is making l-- SHE. Hold it, hold it, hold it...Did anyone in this room just make love to anybody? 'Cause you didn't make love to me, and I certainly didn't make love to you. HE. You didn't? SHE. I don't love you. Christ, I don't even know you. HE. Well...whatever you feel like calling it. A man just wants to know that the woman is having fun, that's all. SHE. [laughing] Is this another one of those testosterone ego-trip things? HE. [also laughing, until her implication registers in his mind] What? SHE. I suppose it's not the same when you're telling all of your locker room-buddies at the gym that you slept with some girl the other day and she just sat there like a...log...or something. HE. I didn't say that you sat there like a log. SHE. Do you want to know-- HE. And I don't have any-- SHE. --why men want women to like it so much? HE. --locker-room buddies! SHE. I'll tell you why. Men want women to like it because when women like it, it makes them helpless, and when men make women like it, it makes them powerful. Well, I've got news for you, pal. This is the nineties, and a woman doesn't have to like it if she doesn't want to! HE. [long pause] So you didn't like it. SHE. I didn't say that. HE. You don't remember. SHE. Right. [pause] Well, maybe next time, I'll take some notes and let you know, okay? HE. Next time? Is there going to be a next time? SHE. Sure. Why not? If--If you want to, I mean. HE. Sure. Why not? I had a good time-- SHE. [falling back on the bed, frustrated] Oh, would you leave me alone?! I told you, I don't-- HE. I know, I know. You don't remember. Scene 2 HE is staring at her, anxious. SHE is sitting up, stretching, slightly panting, possibly playing with her hair. SHE. I liked it. HE. You did? SHE. Yeah. I did. HE. Good. SHE. [short pause] Well? HE. Well what? SHE. Did you like it? HE. Yeah, of course. SHE. Of course. [long pause] Hey, who are you, anyway? HE. What do you mean? SHE. Well, all I know about you is your name, that you work in the hospital with Daddy, and that he thinks very highly of you. HE. He does? SHE. That's what he says. I probably shouldn't have told you. HE. Well...I don't suppose he'd think too highly of me if he could see me right now. SHE. Why not? HE. What do you mean, why not? [short pause] I don't know...Men just don't seem to think too highly of guys who sleep with their daughters...They get angry. SHE. You mean guys who have sex with their daughters. I get it. It's a guy thing. HE. Well...yeah. SHE. What would your father think of me if he could see me right now? HE. [pathetic] My father's dead. SHE. [harsh and immediate] Well, what if he weren't dead? What would he think of me? HE. I don't know. SHE. Would he hate me? Would he be angry with me? HE. No. I don't think so. SHE. Then it really doesn't make much sense that my father should be angry with you, now does it? HE. No, I don't suppose it does. SHE. What was your father like? HE. I didn't really know him all that well. SHE. [suddenly sympathetic] Did he die when you were very young? HE. No. Just last year. We just didn't...like each other. That's all. SHE. That's too bad. HE. What is? SHE. Everybody should love their father. HE. I lov--...l--...loved my father. I mean...he was my father. I just didn't like him. There's a difference. SHE. Uh-huh. What about your mother? HE. She's okay, I guess. SHE. That's good. HE. What about you? Your parents. SHE. You know Daddy. HE. What about your mom? SHE. You know her too. HE. No, I don't. SHE. You met her at the Halloween party the night you met me. She was, uh...Scarlett O'Hara. HE. [laughing] That was your mother? SHE. [not laughing] Yeah. Tell me more about you. HE. [not laughing anymore] Why? SHE. I want to know. [pause] Don't you want to talk about yourself? I thought men loved to talk about themselves. HE. We usually do. SHE. Then why don't you want to, now? HE. I don't know, there's just...something about discussing your parents when you're naked. SHE. So go put your clothes on. HE. Do you...want me to...put my clothes on? SHE. If it would make you more comfortable. [HE doesn't move.] Well, if you don't want to talk about yourself now, then why don't we meet tomorrow for lunch? HE. I'm busy tomorrow. SHE. The next day, then. We'll meet at Bernie's, on the corner of Columbia and Third, and we'll wear lots of clothes, and talk... about ourselves. HE. And then what? SHE. And then...we'll go home. You'll go to your home, and I'll go to my home. HE. Why? SHE. Because I want it to be like we've never met each other before, like it was normal. HE. If...I've never met you, then why do I want to have lunch with you? SHE. So you could meet me. HE. Okay. SHE. Okay. The day after tomorrow. HE. Okay. SHE. We'll eat lunch, split the bill, and say goodbye. HE. Okay. SHE. And we'll keep our clothes on-- HE. Okay!! Okay... Scene 3 HE and SHE are both panting for breath. They are lying in bed haphazardly, perhaps his body lying diagonally across the bed, while she uses his chest for a pillow. HE. I thought we were supposed to keep our clothes on. SHE. So did I. HE. I thought we were supposed to meet for the first time, split the bill, and say goodbye. SHE. So did I. HE. I thought nothing was supposed to happen. SHE. So did I. HE. Well...did you like it? SHE. Yeah. HE. So did I. Scene 4 All the covers are back in place now, and both HE and SHE are sitting up, rigid and tense. HE has placed his hands behind his head, and is resting against the headboard. HE watches her as SHE bites her nails. SHE. I saw you yesterday. HE. Oh yeah? SHE. Uh-huh. HE. Where? SHE. Downtown. At Bernie's. HE. And? SHE. Who were you eating with? HE. A friend. Well, she's my sister, actually, but we just call each other good friends. SHE. You don't have to say that. HE. You asked. SHE. I meant you didn't have to lie. HE. Are you saying that I lied? SHE. [suddenly cheerful] Forget it. Let's talk about something else. HE. No. Let's not. First of all, that woman was my sister, and even if she wasn't, why the hell should you care? I never made you any promises, okay? You're trying to make me feel guilty, but it's not gonna happen. I have nothing to feel guilty for. SHE. [long pause before SHE finally explodes] You're full of shit, you know that? That...that woman was not your sister, and if you expect me to believe that she was, then you must think I'm really stupid! If you don't want to tell me something, then fine, but you don't have to lie to me. HE. Why shouldn't I? SHE. What?!! HE. Why shouldn't I lie to you? SHE. I can't believe I'm hearing this. HE. I lie to a lot of people. SHE. Oh, great. HE. Is there any reason-- SHE. Is that supposed to-- HE. --why you should be any-- SHE. --make me feel better? HE. --different? I mean, it's not like what we do here on the occasional afternoon has anything to do with the rest of our lives. SHE. That's enough. HE. We have separate homes, separate jobs, separate friends, and separate lives. We're not even casual acquaintances; we're total strangers. SHE. Shut your mouth. HE. So if I want to lie to you about something that goes on in my life, something that has nothing to do with you anyway, then what the hell difference should it make? SHE. [long pause] Was she really your sister? HE. [another pause] No. SHE. Who was she? [no response] Oh, come on, if our personal lives have nothing to do with each other, then what have you got to lose? Tell me. I'm just curious. HE. She works at the hospital. SHE. Oh, she's a nurse. How nice...Did you sleep with her? HE. [immediate, without hesitation] Yes. SHE. Oh...Well...Are you in love with her, or were you just drawn to her because of her big tits? HE. No...I'm not in love with her. SHE. It was the tits, then. [to herself, but loud enough for him to hear] I knew it... [to him] Do you like to squeeze them in the middle of sex? HE. That is none of your business. SHE. But you like to squeeze mine, don't you? HE. So?!! SHE. So, I bet you like to squeeze hers, too. Our personal lives do have something to do with each other. I know a lot more about you than you think. HE. Shut up. SHE. I'm part of your life. And all because we've had sex...what is it now, four times? I know a lot about you, and it scares the hell out of you. HE. Maybe. SHE. [short pause] So, how was it? HE. How was what? SHE. With whatshername, the nurse. HE. It was okay. SHE. Just okay? It wasn't spectacular? HE. No. SHE. Did the earth move? HE. No. SHE. Did you hear fireworks? Violins, maybe? HE. No. SHE. What about today? With me? Did the earth move today? Did you hear violins today? Did you? HE. Did you? SHE. I asked you first. HE. [short pause] No. Did you? SHE. No. HE. Tell me something...Have I ever made the earth move for you? SHE. And what if you had? What does that make you? Don't tell me; I don't want to know. [short pause] Well, you haven't, okay? You have never made the earth move. Tell that to Moby Dick. HE. I think I made the earth move once. SHE. Oh, yeah? And when was that? HE. The last time...after lunch. You arched your back, and you made this throaty sound, like you were purring-- SHE. Oh, please! Do we have to go through all the gory details? HE. I...I guess not. Look...why are we even doing this? SHE. Doing what? HE. Making ourselves feel guilty over nothing. SHE. I don't feel guilty. Do you feel guilty? HE. [pause] Yeah. Yeah, I do. SHE. [hurt] Well, then...Maybe we should just quit this altogether. Maybe we should...call off these little afternoon quickies, so I can get back to my life, and you can get back to your nurses. HE. Cut that out. SHE. Then we can both be absolutely free of each other, and you'll never have to feel guilty about being with me ever again. HE. Fine. SHE. And we'll probably never see each other again. HE. Not until the Christmas party. SHE. I won't go. And if I do go, I won't say hello or ask how you've been. I won't even shake your hand. I'll just pretend you're not there. Scene 5 SHE wears an expression somewhere between anger and confusion. HE simply looks depressed. Disco music to a Christmas tune plays in the background. HE. You were supposed to pretend I wasn't there. SHE. I know. HE. You weren't supposed to shake my hand, or say anything to me. SHE. I know. HE. You weren't even supposed to show up. SHE. I know. HE. So...Did you like it? SHE. Not really. They do not move. They do not look at each other. For an instant, HE looks as if he might reply, but quickly thinks better of it. Slow fade. End of Play