Dec 1, 2005
another piece from new cowboy play
(Enter ROSIE and GUILDA. They are conjoined twins, attached at the hip.) HERBIE Rosie! Guilda! Guilda! Rosie! GUILDA and ROSIE Herbie. GUILDA What have you-- ROSIE been doin? GUILDA You must-- ROSIE tell us everything. HERBIE But what are you doing here? ROSIE Oh, we were just . . . um . . . GUILDA In the area . . . HERBIE My uncle sent you to spy on me. GUILDA No. ROSIE No. ROSIE and GUILDA No. HERBIE You’ve heard I’m crazy of course. That I talk to the cacti and take advice from hallucinations. GUILDA We don’t care what nations you advise. ROSIE We’re just here to see you. GUILDA So . . . ROSIE How are you? HERBIE You mean besides having to deal with the speed of my father’s death and my mother’s remarriage? ROSIE and GUILDA Yes, besides that. HERBIE I have an itch I cannot scratch. Underneath my skin. My eyeballs tingle. My throat collapses. I hear a constant kettledrum in my head, like night falling. Is it night for me? I cannot say. Perhaps it is for you. Or for someone else. Today I held a gun in my hand for the first time in seven years. I have to say I enjoyed it. And that makes me hate myself. Or perhaps I’ve always hated myself and have just now become aware of it. How like a cactus is man. All prickly on the outside and in the inside, wet and slimy. ROSIE That’s true about a cactus. (Pause) GUILDA I had a bad itch last night. And she wouldn’t scratch it. ROSIE I was sleeping. GUILDA You were pretending. HERBIE Excuse me, ladies. GUILDA and ROSIE Wait! Wait for us.