Fred (in moments)

I.

(FRED is reading the paper, his back against the side of a dumpste, DSL. He is surrounded by garbage bags and tote bags full of cans, plastic, belongings, etc. He stretches his right leg out and we can see a toe emerging from the shoe. He wiggles it for a moment, inspects it, then,)

FRED

Damnit. (He ruffles through his bags and, after a moment,) A-ha! (finds a roll of duct tape. He peels it and tapes his shoe, all while humming a familiar song. Suddenly he is startled to attention,) Spare some change, ma’am? (Beat.) Have a nice day! (Beat.) Bitch. (Beat. He looks upward and begins to talk.) Hey, Petey. Bang if you hear me. (Two bangs.) Good man, good man. These bitches… they walk past in their fancy heels and they can’t even spare some change. A nickel, y’know? (Another two bangs.) It’s gonna be chilly tonight. I saw it on the tee-vee in the deli. It’s not the cold that bothers me. Or at least it didn’t used to. It was the loneliness for a while. All that wandering around and all those endless subway rides with nobody to talk to but yourself. And if you get caught doin’ that, they all start to think you’re crazy. And nobody – Petey, listen to this, -- nobody gives their money to a crazy person. So don’t start talkin’ to yourself in a subway car. Once you start, there’s no goin’ back, my friend. (Beat. With doom,) No goin’ back. (Beat. A chuckle.) But, nah, I’m not ready for the Fall. It’s a shitty time of year, Petey, y’know? All that death. (Beat.) I’ve been trying to remember the day I left. Jeanie was asleep on the couch. She’d fallen asleep with the tee-vee on and eventually Oprah turned into a vacuum sale and the vacuum sale turned into a test screen and – Petey – the damn thing was so high and so loud and I just had to get out of that house. It was STIFLING, Petey. IT WAS ALL SO GODDAMN LOUD. (Beat.) Sarah was asleep upstairs. And Teddy, too, in his race car bed. (aside) He loved that thing. He wanted bright red but I was an ass and got him a blue one. Blue was for boys, I said. But… the thing is… I don’t remember touching the doorknob or grabbing my coat – did I grab my coat? I don’t remember. (Beat.) It’s gonna be chilly tonight. I saw it on the tee-vee in the deli, Petey. Y’hear? (Two bangs.) Chilly already…

II.

(It is dusk. An idea!)

FRED

Hey, Petey! Pete! (Two bangs.) I was remembering something about the shelter on Barrow. And I was thinking, maybe we could stop by there later, they’ve got the best potatoes and some potatoes would be nice tonight. I saw the tee-vee in the deli and it said it’s gonna be pretty chilly tonight so some potatoes would be nice. (Beat.) My wife made pretty good mashed potatoes. They weren’t lumpy. (Beat.) She was a good wife. Oh, yeah. You’d have liked her, Petey. I’m sure. (Beat. One bang. Beat.) I don’t remember why I left her. (Beat.) In all honesty, I really don’t remember much between leaving and waking up in a shelter one morning seven months later. Or eight months. I don’t remember. (Beat.) I could never remember the important stuff, like birthdays or anniversaries. (Beat.) Maybe that’s why I left. I dunno. There’s this: after I put my hand on the knob, I turned it. Some of the pieces start to come together. I had my coat because I gave it to this new kid in the park and then I got this one ‘round Christmas in 2005. So I had my coat. But did I kiss her goodbye? The kids? I don’t remember! Just that test screen, Petey, it was so loud, so so so loud and it hurt, y’know? It hurt to listen to so I had to get out of there. (Beat.) I think I was a bad father. Or husband. I don’t know. (Beat.) The tee-vee in the deli was right, Petey. It’s startin’ to get a little chilly. “When it gets dark,” that’s what he said, “when it gets dark”. Huh. (Beat.) Looks like it’s startin’ to already. (Fve rapid bangs.) It’s not that bad, man. I used to be afraid of the dark, too, Petey. But then one day my mother said that I should think of it like a blanket. It could be warm and safe instead of scary and… That works real good. But the cold and the loneliness... when I was your age, I was wrong. I learned it all wrong. It’s not the cold and it’s not the loneliness. It’s the forgetfulness. (Beat.) You got nobody to tell and you forget. It’s all just… But they never do, y’know… no, they never do…

III.

(The moon is shining through a cloudy sky. It’s around 8:30pm.)

FRED

There was a moment where I thought this was death. Waiting to be forgotten. My sitting here waiting for Sarah to get old and forget or Teddy to drop dead from liver cancer because you know that kid ain’t going to survive a son of a bitch like me walking out on him. He was fragile. He was SENSITIVE, Petey. You know? You kinda remind me of him, kid. That’s why I like you. You’re sensitive. I can tell you’re going places. (Beat.) Sorry, kid. You know what I meant.

(Blackout.)