Diversions of the Heart

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 Ryan: Okay. Let’s attempt….. To….. Ummm…. Explore all of this a little bit

Lydia: No, Ryan… Let’s not… Please another time, maybe or let’s forget about this, and just move on as though nothing really happened. Because I know we’re both hurt and we’re both residing in the deepest depths of despair at the moment. Slimy. The walking dead. But… we cannot really discuss this… neither one of us have those faculties at the moment. Just let me make dinner. We’ll eat it. Then we’ll watch some TV, read the newspaper, and have some pointless blather go on between the two of us. Then bed.

Ryan: Tempting, of course. I’m not feeling romantic at all. I don’t want to be in the same bed with you, neither do you with me. I can’t blame you. Lies. Scandals. Tabloids. Rumors. Affairs. Mistresses. Lovers. Underage. Too old. Ugly. Gorgeous. You and I have had them all. I want a cookie. I’ll be back.

Beatrice: Lydia, my dear. Have you thrown Ryan out?

Lydia: Heavens, no, my dear. I never will. How have you been, young lady?

Beatrice: I am 35 years old I resent being referred to as a “young lady”.

Lydia: I apologize I guess. I never know how to address bitchy women.

Beatrice: Just call me a b***h. I don’t care. Not much bothers me anymore. Ryan does have a fantastic a*s. Do you know that?

Lydia: I’ve only noticed his pinkie toes.

Beatrice: Those are nice as well. You know, Kafka was known for having wonderful pupils.

Lydia: I don’t believe you. This conversation is a grave disappointment. I want to kill myself the more you talk. Where is the noose? Where is it? I hate you. I really do. But I don’t. Not really. I’m just annoyed and aggravated at the moment. I don’t feel love exists anymore. If it ever did. Did it? What would be your brother’s opinion on this?

Beatrice: Oh- I’m not sure. He went out for doughnuts this morning. He never came back with dougnuts. Instead he came back and told me he had become a follower of Christ. I hung my head in exasperation. All I wanted was a sugar doughnut. Instead all I heard all morning was the ravings of a fanatic. He’s never read the Bible. He never will either. He’ll forget he became a follower tomorrow. And yet I never got that sugar doughnut I wanted so much. It’s a shame. But what can be done? I’ll have to go pick one out myself. But I’m not so sure I want to go to the bakery in this kind of weather. I wish I were more witty than I am right now. I am beginning to feel sad and useless. But I feel that way very often. I recall when Robert was still alive. I never cared much for him, but once in a while he and I would wrestle. Of course he always pinned me but he would allow me to wrestle him down and attempt to pin him for a few moments, and it felt good for whatever the reason was. I’ll admit I always wanted to have a child with this man I didn’t much care for because although I say I never cared for him, I believe at some level I’ll never know anything about I really did care about him quite a lot. Anyway I was much more beautiful then, much more so than I am now. And I tend to believe I’m still quite attractive. I know Ryan thinks so, and to some extent you believe so as well. I’m quite pretty, aren’t I?

Lydia: Ryan and I…. we cannot have children. Well we can. One of us perhaps both of us will be having children…. But it won’t be together. We don’t enjoy engaging each other in such activities. We’re…. say, perhaps….. I don’t know what it is we feel for each other. He’s always running out to eat cookies or to drive in the car, or sometimes he goes to the mall and walks around aimlessly for a few hours attempting to find some light or life or maybe it’s just a diversion for him. I’m not entirely sure. We don’t talk about it in much detail. Not really. We don’t care to. We don’t like to talk. There is no communication in our relationship… Frankly it’s not a relationship…. Not a convenience…. A diversion, maybe. I know many women much prettier than I am. You’re one of them, young lady, you always will be. I would love to kiss you right now, that would be enjoyable. You’re a gorgeous girl and I know you always will be. If I were a man I would love to hold you all through the night. I remember your Robert- he wasn’t much of a man. Wasn’t handsome or rich or a wonderful conversationslist. He was much like my Ryan. But he’s not really “My Ryan.” He’s been many people’s Ryan. He always will be. We considered talking about our infidelities, our lies, our cheating, scheming, amoral, perverse ways, but it wou;don’t do anything. We have chosen to be as adrift from reality and this universe as we can be. Oh, Beatrice, sit down, won’t you?

Beatrice: I believe Donald will be arriving shortly. He wants to marry me. He’s alright, I suppose. But he’s not for me. He’s not really the marrying type. He’s fine as I said but he’s not all that fine. He is the type that should remain unmarried until the good Lord takes him home. But maybe I will say yes to him. I’ll enjoy feeling secure again. I don’t know what I’m saying. I’m lonely, of course, but do I dare settle for a man I can’t really respect? I think I have done that before with Robert, but I suppose I was able to trick myself into believing I loved Robert. That worked off and on for six years. Donald appears the type who will break it off after two years of marriage. I believe I can deal with that fairly well. I must get some coffee. I’ll be back shortly, Love.

(Doorbell.)

Lydia: You may enter, Donald.

Donald: Hello, Lydia. It’s very cold in here. I feel out of place. Out of time. I don’t belong here, but where else can I go? Very staid. Very…. Mechanical and…. Hmmm… I don’t feel anything as I stand here. I’ll sit down. Will you be kind enough to join me?

Lydia: I suppose, Donald.

Donald: You’re a vision, young woman.

Lydia: Do you think I have a cute a*s?

Donald: Yes. Let me see your underpants.

Lydia: Not yet. No, not today. Tomorrow when you and I have our little rendezvous together.

Donald: Very well. Are they red?

Lydia: The only pair I ever wear on Tuesdays, Love.

Donald: My ex-wife, Ellen, contacted me this afternoon. She wants to murder me apparently. She caught me having sex with her daughter from her first marriage… Her name is Mary, I believe. Nice kid but I wouldn’t have had sex with her had I known she was so young.

Lydia: She won’t kill you. Ellen is just a b***h. She’ll get over it. I remember when I was in college. I hated every moment of it. I was a art history major if I remember correctly. I don’t remember much about any of it though. I often wish I didn’t have the power of speech or hearing. It has done no good for me. I have never loved nor have I been loved. What the Hell is Love? No matter. I want a cigarette. Give me one, my dear. Thank you. I don’t like the taste of this much. Dreadful. I’ll continue to smoke it though it gives me some sense of life, I suppose. But I am a chronic liar.

Donald: Beatrice’s a*s is spectacular. Does she wear underpants?

Lydia: I’ll check for you when she returns. I assume she and Ryan are engaging themelves in some lovemaking right now. It’s sad, isn’t it? None us love nor have we been loved. Empty. That’s all.

Donald: I still love Ellen to some extent. Her a*s isn’t great, it’s far too flat and fat now, but those legs of hers. Those eyes. Those lips. Ahhh what beauty, what suppleness. I’d love to take her right now, and even have a sixth child with her. I’m a chauvinist pig I suppose, but I never get over anyone even if I never truly loved them.

Lydia: Beatrice and I could make a fine couple, I believe. I assume she is wearing blue underpants. I can’t wait to see. Wine?

Donald: Beatrice and I will be married soon. Perhaps next month. I don’t want to be married but I have become much more than accustomed to it. Sing me a song, if you please.

Lydia: I would rather knit, but I’ll sing you a song anyway. What would you like to hear?
Donald: I have changed my mind. Let’s kiss.

Lydia: I am going to leave momentarily. Will you be here when I come back? Say- 5 hours?

Donald: I will have fucked both Ryan and Beatrice by then.

Lydia: I’ll see you then.

Donald: Beatrice, where are you?

Beatrice: Donald.

Donald: What color are your underpants?

Beatrice: I need some new clothes. I do not care for this dress I’m wearing. I like red but I want a blue instead. Maybe a gray. A gray represents indecision and…. An overall sense of feeling numb and forsaken… I have felt that way my entire life. I’ll never be loved. I’ll never be loved. No I will not. Have you ever loved or been loved?

Donald: Oh, I doubt it. Who has? I don’t care for this home. It’s…. very……. It’s nothing. Love would be nice though. I don’t want to be married. But perhaps we should. I need a new job so a new woman would be wonderful as well. I was born a long time ago… 45 years, perhaps more or less, it doesn’t matter now. My parents loved me as was their wont, but I don’t believe I loved them which is why I will never be loved or love another. But, Beatrice, my dear, darling young lady, let’s you and I get married.

Beatrice: Where is the piano? I must play something. I must play…… I don’t know how to play the piano. I could learn. You or Ryan or Lydia, or anyone who knows how to play could teach me. I’d like to learn but I wonder if I would have the patience for such an endeavor. I need to be anywhere but where I am.

Ryan: Hello.

Donald: Ryan, do you love anyone?

Ryan: Probably myself.

Donald: Beatrice, good-bye.

Beatrice: Ryan, I must leave.

Ryan: Fine.

Beatrice: I need to buy a clock.
Ryan: Yes, we all must. Time is….. Time.

Donald: Send my love to Lydia, Ryan.

Ryan: Fine.

Donald: Good-bye.

(Donald exits.)

Beatrice: Has Donald left?

Ryan: I haven’t a clue.

Beatrice: Hmmm.. I think I could have come to love him.

Ryan: Where’s Lydia?

Beatrice: I must be off. Good-bye.

(Exits.)

Ryan: Lydia!

Lydia: I am returned.

Ryan: Should we now talk about what we’ve been avoiding?

Lydia: We haven’t avoided anything, Ryan. Well….. Let’s stop with all this. Let’s do something else.

Ryan: Fine.

(Curtain.)