One True Singular Undying Astounding Love

THE FRONT YARD OF A LARGE SUBURBAN HOME. 5 AM. DARK.

Lights up on ETHAN, 18, throwing a handful of pebbles at the upstairs window of the house. He can’t seem to hit the right one. An iHome alarm clock sits at his feet next to an old overturned green bicycle.

ETHAN: Stella! Stella!

He throws another rock. It sails over the house.

ETHAN: Damn it.

He picks up another handful and tries to make a pitcher’s stance.

ETHAN: Renee, babe, you’re the only one for me! I’m sorry!

He winds up to pitch.

ETHAN: We said we’d be together forever, Renee! I’d go to war and you would wait for me and keep my beautiful, inspiring letters.

The pitch sends pebbles flying everywhere except the window. Ethan falls to the ground and crawls to his bike. He begins beating on the bicycle.

ETHAN: Elaine! Elaine!

A light comes on in the house. MRS. MOFFIT, 49, appears at the front door, wearing an oversized Disney World t-shirt and cradling a mug of hot coffee. She stands watching Ethan for a moment.

MRS. MOFFIT: Could you get off the grass? I just had the gardener come yesterday.

Ethan is caught off-guard and stands up defensively. Mrs. Moffit searches near the front door.

MRS. MOFFIT: Are you okay? Did you take a spill, dear?

ETHAN: I’m not leaving!

MRS. MOFFIT: Don’t go yet.

ETHAN: Why not?

MRS. MOFFIT: Where did you throw it?

ETHAN: What?

MRS. MOFFIT: I’m useless this early in the morning. I don’t see where you threw the paper. If you tossed it into my azaleas then you’ll need to grab it—

ETHAN: I’m not the paperboy.

MRS. MOFFIT: You aren’t?

ETHAN: I’m eighteen years old.

MRS. MOFFIT: What’s that suppose to mean?

ETHAN: It means I’m too old to be your paperboy. Paperboys are always little kids raising enough money to buy baseball cards or something.

MRS. MOFFIT: For the Sunday issue, two guys usually drive around tossing them out of a pick-up truck.

ETHAN: Well, that’s because everything sucks now!

MRS. MOFFIT: It does? I had no idea.

ETHAN: Nobody cares about anything anymore. They sucked all the excitement and adventure out of everything.

Mrs. Moffit notices a crack in the window by the door.

MRS. MOFFIT: When did this happen?

ETHAN: Years ago when the fat cats pumped Wall Street so high that it spilled over into everyday life and Bob Dylan stopped playing the guitar.

MRS. MOFFIT: I meant the window.

ETHAN: Oh. Sorry. I missed.

MRS. MOFFIT: You missed?

ETHAN: I was trying to hit the window.

MRS. MOFFIT: Well, you hit it.

ETHAN: No—I was trying to hit Renee’s window.

MRS. MOFFIT: You’re not the paperboy.

ETHAN: I have to speak with her, Mrs. Moffit.

MRS. MOFFIT: You can’t.

ETHAN: But I have to. We’re the love of each other’s lives

MRS. MOFFIT: Who are you? I mean besides the love of my daughter’s life.

ETHAN: She hasn’t said anything about me?

MRS. MOFFIT: No…

ETHAN: Ethan.

MRS. MOFFIT: No, Ethan, she hasn’t. Now please leave. I have to get ready for work.

ETHAN: But it’s only five in the morning.

MRS. MOFFIT: Oh, I know that.

ETHAN: It’s not even light out yet and you have to go to work?

MRS. MOFFIT: No, but it’s pretty difficult to sleep through your house being bombarded with —where did you get all of these pebbles? If you took them from the walkway next door, that loony man’ll send his Pomeranian after you.

ETHAN: They’re from the park down the street.

MRS. MOFFIT: Good. Now bring them back to the park down the street.

Mrs. Moffit exits into the house. Ethan stands, confused, for a moment, then runs over to the iHome stereo and tries to turn it on. He holds it up over his head. No sound comes out. He shakes it over his head. He stumbles back to the front door and knocks. No answer. He goes to ring the doorbell, but Mrs. Moffit swings open the door and grabs his arm.

MRS. MOFFIT: Don’t do that. You’ll wake Terry.

ETHAN: I have to speak with your daughter, Mrs. Moffit.

MRS. MOFFIT: I told you, already. You can’t.

ETHAN: But—

MRS. MOFFIT: She’s not here. She’s staying the night with a friend.

ETHAN: Oh.

Ethan slumps down and sits on the front step.

MRS. MOFFIT: She should be home in a couple of hours. Why don’t you come back in a little while?

ETHAN: Because I was supposed to win her back as the sun came up.

MRS. MOFFIT: I see. Well, I’ll give her that message.

ETHAN: Why didn’t Renee say anything about me?

MRS. MOFFIT: Renee doesn’t tell me anything, Ethan.

ETHAN: I told her I wasn’t afraid of our love.

MRS. MOFFIT: How long have you two been seeing each other?

ETHAN: It’ll be a month on Thursday.

MRS. MOFFIT: Wow.

ETHAN: You don’t get it. We’re in love. It’s been a very thrilling month.

MRS. MOFFIT: What is that suppose to mean?

ETHAN: I—It means—

MRS. MOFFIT: You’re eighteen!

ETHAN: I’m sorry.

MRS. MOFFIT: She’s sixteen!

ETHAN: Age doesn’t matter when it comes to love. I read that we’ve felt every emotion by the time we turn three years old.

MRS. MOFFIT: Terry! Terry!

Ethan runs to his bike. Mrs. Moffit begins to laugh.

MRS. MOFFIT: Ethan wait.

Ethan continues to try balancing the stereo on his handlebars and ride off. Mrs. Moffit walks over and blocks his path.

MRS. MOFFIT: You don’t have to fly off. I was only kidding. Renee’s old enough now to make these decisions for herself. I was the same way when I was her age.

ETHAN: I don’t want to have to fight your husband Mrs. Moffit…

MRS. MOFFIT: Penelope.

ETHAN: What?

Mrs. Moffit retreats back towards the house.

MRS. MOFFIT: Nothing. I have to get back inside. I would absolutely die if anyone saw me looking like this, even at the crack of dawn.

ETHAN: I like Disney World. It’s the happiest place on Earth.

MRS. MOFFIT: Good night…or good morning…or goodbye Ethan.

ETHAN: Have you ever been on Space Mountain?

Mrs. Moffit stops at the front door.

MRS. MOFFIT: I love Space Mountain.

ETHAN: I went there with my cousins last summer and they stopped running it in the dark.

MRS. MOFFIT: No!

ETHAN: I know!

MRS. MOFFIT: How dare they!

ETHAN: And I didn’t even Fast Pass it!

Ethan gets off his bike and goes back over to Mrs. Moffit.

MRS. MOFFIT: Well, Ethan, things have really changed. You’re right.

ETHAN: Things suck.

MRS. MOFFIT: Yes, they do suck.

ETHAN: Is that all you’re wearing? Just the shirt? I shouldn’t ask that. I’m sorry.

MRS. MOFFIT: Did you graduate already or are you a senior?

ETHAN: I just graduated.

MRS. MOFFIT: That’s too bad.

ETHAN: Really? Mrs. Moffit, I don’t think…I like your daughter.

MRS. MOFFIT: It would have been nice for Renee to go to the prom.

ETHAN: Oh, that. The prom isn’t that great anyways.

MRS. MOFFIT: Did you go?

ETHAN: No.

MRS. MOFFIT: I went.

ETHAN: To my prom?

MRS. MOFFIT: No. I went to my prom.

ETHAN: With Terry? I mean, Mr. Moffit?

MRS. MOFFIT: No, no, no. I went with…I went with a boy, who’s name I can’t even remember, honestly.

ETHAN: Really?

MRS. MOFFIT: Well, Ethan, I didn’t exactly stay with him the entire night.

ETHAN: Oh, man! You’re a player, Mrs. Moffit?

MRS. MOFFIT: I wore a god awful purple dress and dropped my corsage in the punch bowl. But I was a player, Ethan. Yes.

ETHAN: How was it? The prom?

MRS. MOFFIT: Fantastic. Incredible. My date, the one I don’t remember that well, he looked a lot like you.

ETHAN: Oh, great. I’m the one you leave behind for some other man.

MRS. MOFFIT: I’m sorry. I’m sorry I left you behind.

ETHAN: That’s alright. I’ll recover. Burned by the daughter and the mother.

MRS. MOFFIT: What do you see in my daughter, Ethan?

ETHAN: Everything. The future. I see those stars and hearts and birds, like when cartoons get zonked on the head.

MRS. MOFFIT: You see that with Renee?

ETHAN: I think so. I want to, so badly.

MRS. MOFFIT: What is it about Renee that gets you so hot and bothered?

ETHAN: It’s not Renee—I mean it is, but—it’s really just the idea that we’re in love, you know?

MRS. MOFFIT: No, I don’t.

ETHAN: I like the idea of this—of coming to my one, true, singular, astounding love’s house and winning her back, just when we all thought it was too late. But I get there right in the nick of time and say something perfect.

MRS. MOFFIT: What were you going to say?

ETHAN: I was gonna make it up. Let the moment take me.

MRS. MOFFIT: I guess this isn’t the moment you were expecting.

ETHAN: Not exactly. But, this is nice. It is.

MRS. MOFFIT: Good bye, Ethan.

Ethan leans in and kisses Mrs. Moffit as passionately as he possibly can. Mrs. Moffit stand still. Ethan breaks away into a romantic stance.

MRS. MOFFIT: Good bye, Ethan.

Mrs. Moffit exits into the house. Ethan disappointedly grabs his stereo and wheels his bike away. Mrs. Moffit opens the door and walks back out onto the lawn. She watches Ethan wheel his bike down the street, then, she returns inside with a twirl. Black out.