(A small, lived-in apartment somewhere in Brooklyn, clearly carved out of an older building that has retained little of its original grandeur. Suggestions of the skyline and a fire escape are visible out the windows. The apartment is decorated in a sparse but tasteful manner, indicating that the decorator is attempting to present a certain eclectic maturity despite youth and lack of finances. A door in the wall leads to JUDY and PEGGY's bedroom and a bathroom. A bicycle, outfitted for commuting, leans up against a wall. The furniture is limited: a low coffee table in the living room and a two-person table in the kitchenette, both of which are covered in a week's worth of dirty dishes, cereal boxes, unopened mail, and maybe a dying houseplant (dishes are piled in and around the sink), and a mismatched easy chair and sofa set, both worn and partially buried under dirty laundry and winter clothes. An entertainment center adjacent to the door is buried in the detritus that collects next to front doors, with a broad space more lightly cluttered, suggesting that a television lived there until fairly recently. There is also a small, but clearly venerated, framed portrait of JUDY and PEGGY smiling in a candid moment.
JOHN is lying on the couch, staring into space. Had we seen him on this couch six months ago, he would have had an air of raw grief about him, but he now seems to have settled into a resigned sort of melancholy. The couch is now simply his preferred space, his natural habitat. A pillow and quilt in the vicinity indicate that this is where he sleeps on those occasions that he isn't lying there awake.
There is a jangle of keys in the door and the sound of voices. JUDY and PEGGY enter. Both are wheeling small suitcases and wearing backpacks, everything still sporting the baggage tags. JUDY is carrying a week's worth of mail. JOHN does not react.)
JUDY
(Speaking excitedly; she is glad to be home. As she enters:)
...And she looks at me sort of nervously and says,
(Affecting a Russian accent)
"Well, this is not my real job."
(PEGGY laughs. It's so nice to have JUDY in a good mood. At the same time, JUDY notices the mess and says, blankly:)
Oh.
(She notices JOHN. More darkly:)
OH.
PEGGY
I can go start unpacking.
JUDY
(Curt)
No. This will just take a minute.
(She walks over to behind the couch and speaks to JOHN. With exaggerated sweetness:)
A blessed good morrow to thee, o dearest and most darling baby brother mine! Prithee forgive this intrusion, angel flower, but dost thou...
(She notices the empty space on the entertainment center and drops the act.)
WHERE is the TV?
JOHN
(Faintly)
What?
JUDY
(Walking over to entertainment center)
Now, I know I was gone for almost an entire week, but I'm pretty sure that a TV used to live with us. It wasn't super useful, or anything, didn't help pay the rent, but it kept me company, John. It made me feel like I wasn't alone in the city with what remained of my little brother.
YOU ARE READING
Good to Be Alive
ParanormalA woman reads too much noir fiction and comes to believe she is actually a hardboiled detective. A young man attempts to put his life back together after tragedy. An abandoned nightclub in the woods. A modern, jukebox-musical retelling of Don Qui...