A New York Minute – Michele Palermo
HE finishes tying
MELISSA BURNS: 32 years old and single, Melissa is
Harry’s best friend, and has been for ten years, since
they met in college. She is a successful attorney who
spends more time working than playing and to whom
Harry was practically her only social contact. Melissa
is warm, sensitive, and intelligent, but at curtain’s rise,
she is “angrier than Hell” at Harry.
HARRY CONNER: Harry was 32 years old when he
committed suicide by throwing himself in front of an
oncoming subway train. At the time of his death, Harry
was a successful Wall Street broker with a carefully-
conceived plan for success. Harry is very handsome, a
look of corporate success and promise. He has a
tremendous sense of humor and loves to tease Melissa,
whom he loves with all his heart as his very dearest
friend. In his funy moments he is irreverent and “over-
the-top”; in his serious ones, he drops all ceremony and
“lays it on the line.”
Time and Place
Scene 1 – Harry’s apartment, Monday morning, 8:00
AM
Scene 2 – Harry’s apartment, Friday afternoon, 1:30
PM
Scene 1
SETTING: Harry’s studio apartment.
AT RISE: The room is dim, hazy, quasi-dreamlike, and
remains this way during the entire first scene. The
room is sparsely furnished. There is a closet along one
of the walls. A full-length, freestanding mirror (frame
only) is downstage.
HARRY enters the room, dressing.
his tie, puts on his jacket and sits down at his desk to
begin his day. HE picks up the Wall Street Journal,
which is on the desk, he looks at it and opens his day
planner.
HE pages through it for a moment, and stops dead on a
certain page. HE stares at the page for a moment, then
becoming visibly emotional, HE looks up as if HE has
realized something for the first time.
BLACKOUT
Scene 2
SETTING: Harry’s bedroom, two days later.
AT RISE: Everything is the same as it was at the end of
the previous scene, minus Harry. The lighting is still
dim, but the haziness is no longer there; it merely looks
like a darkened room. The sound of a KEY turning in a
look is heard offstage, followed by the sound of a DOOR
opening and shutting.
MELISSA enters the room, carrying a box. SHE looks
around for a moment, then turns on the LIGHT.
Setting the box down on the floor near the door, SHE
walks around the room, looking at everything. SHE
picks up several objects, putting them back down.
Finally, SHE comes to a picture of herself and Harry.
SHE sits down, looking at it for a long moment, then
places it, face down, and stands up, walks over, picks
up the box, and walks to the closet. SHE opens it and
looks inside for a moment. Then, as if in a trance, SHE
beings to take clothes off of their hangers and place
them in the box. This action continues until SHE
comes to a royal blue silk shirt, which can’t help but
catch her eye. This is Harry’s favorite shirt. SHE puts
the shirt on the bed and takes off her own shirt,
replacing it with the blue one. SHE walks down to the
mirror and gazes at her reflection has SHE buttons the
shirt, very slowly. At this moment, from the other side
of the mirror, out of the darkness, emerges HARRY,
still dressed in the clothes from the previous scene. HE
stands, as if her reflection, watching HER.
HARRY. Hello, Melissa.
(Beat. MELISSA looks up, into the mirror.)
HARRY. I knew I’d find you here. (Beat.) I never
realized how beautiful you are until this moment.
(HARRY gets an idea. Slowly, cautiously, HE steps
through the mirror.) I did it. (HARRY walks around
the room, looking at everything.) Mel? (Beat.) You
don’t know I’m here, do you?
(MELISSA walks over to the bookshelves and takes his
sailing cup down. SHE looks at it for a moment.)
HARRY. Remember when I won that, Mel? Saturday
afternoon, June 20, 1990. Montauk Yacht Club sailing
race. First place. You took me to dinner at that little
restaurant in…
(MELISSA throws the cup into the box.)
HARRY. Hey, easy with that!
(MELISSA sits down, crying now. HARRY goes to her
and crouches down.)
HARRY. God, I wish you could hear me, Mel. Just long
enough for me to tell you I’m sorry.
MELISSA. (Looks up, as if she has heard him. Harry?
(SHE looks around, realizing that she is along in the
room. SHE doesn’t see Harry. Then, to herself.) Oh
yeah, Mel, you’re really losing it now.
HARRY. You’re not losing anything, Mel. I’m right
here.
(MELISSA turns to the spot where Harry is standing,
obviously hearing his voice. SHE does not see him.
Beat. MELISSA hurriedly starts to clear things off of
the desk downstage.)
HARRY. Mel, I know you can hear me.
MELISSA. (To herself hearing Harry’s voice.) Just put
your coat on and get out of here.
HARRY. I need to talk to you.
MELISSA. Melissa, you know what this is.
HARRY. Just give me one minute, Mel.
MELISSA. You have having a nervous breakdown.
HARRY. Please, Mel.
(MELISSA runs to the door. HARRY picks up the box.)
HARRY. Wait! You forgot this!
(MELISSA stops at the door. SHE turns, sees Harry,
and walks over to get the box.)
MELISSA. Thank you.
HARRY. You can see me?
MELISSA. Of course I can see you, Harry.
HARRY. That’s amazing.
MELISSA. No it’s not. I’m hallucinating. (MELISSA
sits on the end of the bed.) You’re not really here,
Harry. I’m having a nervous breakdown.
HARRY. (Sits down next to her.) You’re not having a
nervous breakdown, Mel.
MELISSA. Wanna bet?
HARRY. Sure.
(HE stretches his hand out to her. MELISSA cautiously
reaches for his hand. This is a moment filled with
magic. Then, realizing that she is touching him, SHE
looks at him again, this time slowly, as if it were the
first time she were really seeing him.)
MELISSA. (Almost a whisper.) Harry…
HARRY. Hello, Melissa.
MELISSA. (Stares at him. Still in shock.) … but you’re
… dead.
HARRY. I know. But I’m here.
MELISSA. I can’t believe it.
HARRY. Believe it.
MELISSA. No, I mean … Harry, there’s something …
I’ve been wanting to tell you.
HARRY. I know.
MELISSA. I’ve been thinking about it all week … just
wishing I had a chance …
HARRY. Go ahead, Mel, say it.
MELISSA. (Walks up very close to Harry.) FUCK YOU!
(SHE turns and goes back to the box, picks it up, and in
one sweep, cleans everything off of the dresser and into
the box.)
HARRY. (After a moment.) I sense anger here, Mel.
MELISSA. (Not looking at Harry.) Very good. (SHE
picks up the box.) Now if you don’t mind, I have a
three o’clock meeting and it’s already one-thirty.
Goodbye, Harry. Have a nice death. (SHE walks to the
door.)
HARRY. You can’t just bail out on me like this.
MELISSA. (SHE turns on him.) Why not? I’m simply
returning the favor. (SHE starts out again.)
HARRY. Wait, Mel. Please. Let me explain.
MELISSA. No need, Harry. I got the message. Nice
touch, reading your suicide note on my answering
machine. Very nineties.
HARRY. I wanted to make sure you got it. You never
read your mail.
MELISSA. I got it, Harry. I definitely got it. Trouble
is, by the time I got it, you were all over the Columbus
Circle subway station. Your timing sucks.
HARRY. No, it doesn’t. You never check your
messages until after your ten o’clock partners’
meeting.
MELISSA. What are you saying?
HARRY. I’m saying I didn’t want to give you a chance
to try and stop me.
MELISSA. Stop you? If I had known you’d been lying
to me all these years, I would’ve pushed you.
HARRY. I never lied to you.
MELISSA. You didn’t? Then what about all of the time
we spent together, all of the things we shared?
HARRY. What about it? That was friendship, Mel.
MELISSA. Was it? (SHE looks at him for a moment,
then turns and goes to the door once again.)
HARRY. (HE speaks loudly, firmly, convincingly.) You
know it was. You were my best friend, Mel. I never
trusted anyone as much as I did you.
MELISSA. (Turns, breaking down.) Then why didn’t
you tell me? You sat in my living room for four hours
on Sunday night, just like it was any other night, eating
pasta and drinking Chianti. You even toasted ten years
of our friendship, Harry. The next morning you walk
down the steps at Columbus Circle and throw yourself
in front of a subway train? Why, Harry? Why didn’t
you tell me?
HARRY. I didn’t want you to feel responsible.
MELISSA. (Angry.) I am responsible, Harry! I was the
last person to see you alive.
HARRY. No, you weren’t. The last person to see me
alive was some guy with no teeth, trying to sell me a
copy of Street News.
MELISSA. That’s so funny, Harry.
HARRY. It wasn’t a joke. All I’m saying is that guy was
no more responsible for what I did than you are, so
stop trying to figure out which clues you ignored, which
signals you didn’t pick up on, because there weren’t
any. Stop blaming yourself.
MELISSA. If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em.
HARRY. What?
MELISSA. They all blamed me, Harry.
HARRY. Who?
MELISSA. At the funeral. They were all looking at me,
like I had some answer I wasn’t telling them, like I was
keeping some sort of sordid secret for you. And your
mother. That was the worst, standing next to your
mother as they carried the casket out. She looked me
straight in the eye and said, “I can’t believe he never
mentioned anything about this to you, Melissa. He
always…”
HARRY. (Finishing her sentence.) “…told you
everything.”
MELISSA. How did you know?
HARRY. You don’t think I’d miss my own funeral, do
you?
MELISSA. (Beat.) So, what did you think?
HARRY. I was… surprised.
MELISSA. So was I. I couldn’t believe all the people
that showed up on such short notice. Even the gang
from college was there.
HARRY. Yeah. Boy, was that weird, seeing them
again.
MELISSA. You’re telling me. Could you believe Bob
Zolner? Wearing a toupee?
HARRY. And Jeanine? She got so fat.
MELISSA. Oh, come on, Harry. She was always fat.
HARRY. She wasn’t fat when I dated her.
MELISSA. She was fat then, too.
HARRY. Do I detect a note of jealousy in your voice,
Melissa?
MELISSA. You wish.
HARRY. (After a beat.) You know what really
surprised me, though?
MELISSA. What?
HARRY. You.
MELISSA. Me?
HARRY. Yeah.
MELISSA. Why?
HARRY. I never knew how you felt about me until you
were up there giving my eulogy.
MELISSA. Oh, come off it, Harry. I said all of those
things to you when you were alive.
HARRY. It’s what you weren’t saying that surprised
me.
MELISSA. What?
HARRY. Why do people talk, Mel?
MELISSA. What do you mean, “Why do people talk?”
HARRY. I mean, why are human beings given the gift
of speech?
MELISSA. What kind of question is that?
HARRY. Just answer it.
MELISSA. People talk … to communicate their
thoughts, their feelings.
HARRY. Really?
MELISSA. Of course.
HARRY. But when you were up there on Wednesday,
talking to all of those people, you weren’t
communicating what you were thinking, Mel.
MELISSA. I was, too.
(Beat. HARRY shakes his head.)
MELISSA. OK, then. What was I thinking?
HARRY. That I was a selfish son of a bitch who had
cheated you out of your only chance for happiness.
MELISSA. You mean … you can hear my thoughts?
HARRY. Loud and clear. (Pause.) Mel?
MELISSA. What?
HARRY. Why didn’t you tell those people how angry
you were with me?
MELISSA. That’s not the purpose of a eulogy, Harry.
HARRY. OK, I accept that. (Beat.) But then why didn’t
you ever tell me that you were in love with me?
MELISSA. (Looks at Harry.) You’re not playing fair,
Harry.
HARRY. Neither were you.
MELISSA. Did you always tell me every single thing
that you were thinking or feeling?
HARRY. No, I didn’t.
MELISSA. All right. So stop making me crazy and
worry about yourself!
HARRY. I’m dead, Mel.
MELISSA. God, you were annoying me so much I
forgot! (Beat.) Tell me something, Harry. If I had told
you what I really felt, would things have been different
between us? Honestly?
HARRY. (Thinks a moment.) Probably not. I’d like to
say “yes,” but knowing me, I wouldn’t have been able
to deal with that kind of honesty. It would never have
fit into my plan.
MELISSA. Harrison Conner. The man with a plan.
HARRY. Yeah.
MELISSA. I gotta hand it to you, though, you really
made it work for you.
HARRY. Did I?
MELISSA. Come on, Harry. When I met you in college,
you already have everything worked out for graduate
school. And by the time you got your MBA, you were
on staff at Merrill Lynch, complete with a five-year
strategy of vertical corporate mobility. Three years
into it, you had already mapped out your ten-year plan
for financial expansion. (SHE goes to the box, takes
out the day planner, and opens it.) I mean, look at this
thing. You’re the only person I know who actually has
detailed stuff written in the “future goals” section. You
know something? You really missed your calling. You
should have written a book on “how to use your day
planner to improve your life.” Come to think of it,
maybe I’ll write it, using this as my prototype. Or
maybe I’ll just auction this off to the highest bidder. A
person could learn a lot from studying this thing,
Harry.
HARRY. I won’t argue with you there.
MELISSA. (After a moment, SHE puts the day planner
down on the bed and turns to him.) What’s it like,
Harry?
HARRY. Being dead?
MELISSA. Yeah.
HARRY. You’ll have to wait and see.
MELISSA. Come on, I’m your best friend. I promise, I
won’t tell a soul.
HARRY. I can’t. Privileged information, available only
to those who have no other option.
MELISSA. Can you at least tell me if it’s good or bad?
HARRY. It’s good.
MELISSA. Better than being alive?
HARRY. Better is a word which can only be used to
weight things which are comparable in nature. It’s
irrelevant in this case.
MELISSA. You sure seem to know a lot more now than
when you were alive.
HARRY. I don’t know if I know more. I realize more, I
understand more, I care more.
MELISSA. Are you happy?
HARRY. Yes.
MELISSA. Then why did you come back?
HARRY. To save your life.
MELISSA. Why? Am I in danger?
HARRY. Yes.
MELISSA. Is someone trying to kill me?
HARRY. Mel, you saw Ghost one too many times. Who
would want to kill you?
MELISSA. My senior partner, for one. He thinks that
dealing with the death of a loved one means taking the
day off for the funeral. I haven’t been myself at work
this week.
HARRY. You’re wrong. This is the first week you have
been yourself. It’s the one hundred and fifty-six weeks
before that you should be worried about.
MELISSA. Harry, if there’s one thing I’d think you
would understand, it’s not bringing your personal life
into work.
HARRY. How do you do that, Mel? Do you take your
body and mind into the office and tell your emotions to
stay home? Separate your life into little compartments
and deal with them on a schedule? Eight to six, work –
six to eight, deal with my feelings, eight to ten, enjoy
life…
MELISSA. You did it.
HARRY. You’re right. I did. (Beat.) So, what did you
think of Paul?
MELISSA. Who?
HARRY. Paul. The guy on my sailing team. I heard
you talking to him at the funeral.
MELISSA. I don’t know, he seemed like a nice guy.
HARRY. He is a nice guy. I think you should go out
with me.
MELISSA. What?
HARRY. I’m just giving my approval.
MELISSA. For what?
HARRY. For the way you were feeling when you were
talking to him. You liked him.
MELISSA. So?
HARRY. So, I think you should make every effort to
start up a relationship with him.
MELISSA. Look, Harry, I like lots of people. That
doesn’t mean I have to start up relationships with all of
them.
HARRY. I’m not talking about lots of people. I’m
talking about Paul.
MELISSA. OK, so I liked him, so I thought about the
fact that he might be a nice person to spend some time
with, so what?
HARRY. So do something about it.
MELISSA. Like what? Call him up?
HARRY. That’s a good start. His card is in my day
planner.
MELISSA. OK, so say I call him up. Then what? What
if he doesn’t want to go out with me? OR what if we go
out and we don’t like each other? Worse than that,
what if we fall madly in love and he breaks my heart?
HARRY. Then you’ll get over it, in all of the above
cases, counselor.
MELISSA. No guarantees?
HARRY. No guarantees.
MELISSA. Then forgot it. I’m not calling.
HARRY. Why not?
MELISSA. Because I’m thirty-two years old, Harry. I
don’t have time to take a chance on a relationship that
might not work out. Besides, I’m in love with you. You
said so yourself.
HARRY. I’m dead.
MELISSA. Well you’ve only been dead for five days.
Give me a little time.
HARRY. It’s not up to me to give you time, Mel.
(Pause.) And if you’re honest with yourself, you’ll
realize that the reason you thought we belonged
together is that all the time had already been invested;
all the work was already done.
MELISSA. How can you say that? I loved you, Harry.
HARRY. And I loved you. But neither of us was in love
with the other, and that’s the best part. Don’t cheat
yourself out of that chance, Mel.
MELISSA. I don’t have time.
HARRY. Sure you do. You have twenty-four hours
every day for the rest of your life.
MELISSA. Most of that time doesn’t belong to me.
HARRY. It all belongs to you. Every minute of it.
MELISSA. How do you figure that? Monday through
Friday as well as most Saturdays, I’m at work at 8:30 in
the morning, and I can’t remember the last time I left
the office while it was still daylight.
HARRY. I can. It was last Monday.
MELISSA. That doesn’t count.
HARRY. Thanks.
MELISSA. You know what I mean. That was
important.
HARRY. And you’re not.
MELISSA. That’s not what I’m saying.
HARRY. What are you saying?
MELISSA. I don’t know. I mean, last week everything
was in place and then boom, all of a sudden it’s
Monday morning and the whole world is upside down.
Everything I thought was one way isn’t that way at all,
it’s something completely different. All week I’ve been
trying to put my life back in some kind of order, but it
keeps falling apart again.
HARRY. Maybe your life doesn’t like the order you’re
trying to put it in.
MELISSA. What?
HARRY. Maybe it knows what you need better than
you do.
MELISSA. That’s ridiculous. My life doesn’t live me.
I’m the one that determines what happens. I’m in
control.
HARRY. Seems that way, doesn’t it? You plan every
step, schedule every minute, so that you can say to
yourself “I’m in control. I know where my life is going
and I’m going to take it there.” And days go by, even
years, where everything goes by the book, nothing is
out of place. A good day is one where you keep to the
schedule, when every item on the “to do” list is
checked off and a new list is set for tomorrow.
Knowing whether or not you are able to do something
with your life is as easy as turning to a page in your day
planner. If there’s an empty space, you fill it in; if
there’s not, you pass. And just about the time you think
you’ve mastered this incredible control over your own
existence, something happens. Something unplanned,
unscheduled, unavoidable, something that you can’t
“pencil in” or “put off until next week.” Something so
important it turns your world upside down, as you said.
Do you know what that something is, Mel? It’s life,
slapping you in the face, saying “stop trying to avoid
me, I’m out here and I’m sick of happening around
you.” No, Mel. The only thing you have control over
when it comes to life is the extent of your commitment
to living it.
MELISSA. (Angry.) How can you sit here talking to me
about my commitment to life when yours is gone?
HARRY. Because I don’t want the same thing to
happen to you.
MELISSA. You don’t have to worry about that. I’m not
weak, Harry, I’m not stupid. I know that no matter how
bad things seem, there’s always tomorrow.
HARRY. What is there wasn’t always tomorrow? Or
even if there was tomorrow, what if the next day wasn’t
such a sure thing? What if there was no next week as
you know it, what if they rest of your life was going to
live you instead of you living it? Then what? Would
you be strong and smart? Or would you be weak and
stupid like I was?
MELISSA. What are you trying to say, Harry?
HARRY. Listen, Mel, and you’ll know.
MELISSA. Would you stop doing that?
HARRY. What am I doing?
MELISSA. You’re talking in circles. Nothing you’re
saying makes any sense.
HARRY. What do you want? Straight answers?
MELISSA. That would be refreshing.
HARRY. Why? So you can attach a definition to
everything you’ve been feeling? So you can qualify
each emotion as valid or invalid and then stuff them all
back inside where they’ll sit for the rest of your life or
until someone else you love dies?
MELISSA. No. So that I can have some peace, Harry.
So that I can finally either absolve myself of this guilt
that’s been hanging around me since Monday or throw
myself into it full force. I’m ready to go either way.
HARRY. I don’t think you are, Mel, I already told you,
it wasn’t something you could stop.
MELISSA. Then what was it?
HARRY. I can’t tell you.
MELISSA. Why not?
HARRY. It’s against the rules.
MELISSA. That’s bullshit. They don’t have rules in
heaven.
HARRY. Who said anything about heaven?
MELISSA. Isn’t that where you came from?
HARRY. No.
MELISSA. (Horrified.) You mean…?
HARRY. No, I didn’t come from their either. Let’s just
say I’m on my way.
MELISSA. To where?
HARRY. That depends.
MELISSA. On what?
HARRY. You.
MELISSA. Oh, now this is getting a little too weird,
Harry. Not that it wasn’t already very weird to begin
with. So what you’re telling me is that I am not in any
way responsible for your suicide, but I am the person
who will determine … what happens next?
HARRY. Exactly.
MELISSA. But you can’t tell me what I need to know in
order to do what I have to do.
HARRY. Right.
MELISSA. Then why are you here?
HARRY. Because you need me.
MELISSA. But you just said you can’t help me.
HARRY. No, I said I can’t give you the answer you’re
looking for. That doesn’t mean I can’t help you find it.
MELISSA. I feel like I’m on some kind of metaphysical
game show or something.
HARRY. That’s good, Mel. Go with that.
MELISSA. What?
HARRY. The game show image. You like game shows,
right?
MELISSA. Well, yeah…
HARRY. Wait. (HE assumes the voice and persona of a
game show host.) Good evening ladies and gentlemen.
Welcome to “The World Beyond Your Own Reality,” the
game nobody wants to play. Let’s welcome our first
contestant, Melissa Burns! Melissa? How do you feel?
MELISSA. Really stupid.
HARRY. Good! Now, on with the game! You’ll see up
here on this board …
(HARRY gestures to an area in front of Melissa, but try
as she may, MELISSA can see no board.)
MELISSA. What board?
HARRY. (Laughs teasingly.) Hah! Hah! What board.
Isn’t she something Ladies and Gentlemen? Now, as I
was saying, you’ll see up here on this board five
categories: Obstacles, Hurdles, Absolutes, Abstract
Concepts, and Pleasures. Each of these categories
have hidden within them particular pieces which
played a part in the suicide of your best friend, Harry
Conner. Great guy, Harry. We’ll all miss him. NOW!
Your task is to put it all in the right order and come up
with the right answer. If you do this, Harry will be
sitting pretty with the big guy. If not … well, let’s not
think about that right now.
MELISSA. What’s the question?
HARRY. That’s not important. Are you ready?
MELISSA. No.
HARRY. No one ever is. Let’s start anyway, we always
do. Pick a category.
(SHE stares at him in silence.)
HARRY. Pick a category, Melissa.
MELISSA. “Abstract concepts”?
HARRY. (HE looks at the “board.”) We’ve got time.
Time. Time. Time and time. Looks like your friend
Harry had a little trouble with the concept of time,
Melissa.
MELISSA. What are you talking about? You always
managed your time extremely well. (A BUZZER sounds
very loudly. MELISSA is startled.)
HARRY. I’m sorry, Melissa. Our judges seem to think
there’s been a misconception on your part. Harry
didn’t own time, therefore it wasn’t his. He was just
borrowing it, shall we say?
MELISSA. What does that noise mean?
HARRY. It means wake up and smell the coffee little
lady. Next category.
MELISSA. I don’t like this game.
HARRY. That’s because you’re trying to figure out how
to play it.
MELISSA. But how am I supposed to find the answer if
I don’t know how to play the game?
HARRY. You’d be surprised. Just pick another
category.
MELISSA. OK. I’ll take “Absolutes.”
HARRY. What have we got? “Work, Taxes, Melissa,
Mom and Dad, and Death.” Looks like Harry was
pretty secure in your friendship, Melissa. How does
that make you feel?
MELISSA. Confused.
HARRY. Good! Let’s move on to the next category.
MELISSA. “Pleasures.”
HARRY. “Melissa, Sailing, Melissa, Sailing, and
Melissa.” Harry must have really liked you. You beat
out sailing by a three to two margin. How does that
make you feel? (SHE stars to answer, but HE cuts her
off.) That’s not important. All right, we only have two
categories left. “Obstacles” and “Hurdles.”
MELISSA. Aren’t those the same things?
HARRY. Not to Harry.
MELISSA. What’s the difference?
HARRY. Seems like the obstacles got in the way of
Harry getting over the hurdles.
MELISSA. OK, I’ll take “Hurdles.” (The BUZZER
sounds again.) What did I do now?
HARRY. Wrong order.
MELISSA. Who says?
HARRY. The judges.
MELISSA. But I want to know what you were trying to
get past, that’s why I’m playing this game. (The
BUZZER sounds again, this time louder and longer.)
WHAT?
HARRY. The judges disagree with your perceived
purpose in playing. They want you to stop trying to
control the game and just play it. You have to take
things in the order they come. If you jump ahead …
(The BUZZER sounds again.) Let’s just say it’s not
good.
MELISSA. OK! I’ll take “Obstacles.”
HARRY. Let’s see. “Incognizance, Obstinance, Fear,
The Unknown, and The Day Planner.”
MELISSA. The Day Planner?
HARRY. That’s what the board says.
MELISSA. But you lived by your day planner. It wasn’t
an obstacle, it was a finely tuned instrument. (The
BUZZER sounds again.) Let me guess. I’m wrong.
HARRY. You’re getting better at this. And it’s a good
thing, too, because there’s only one category left. Are
you ready to take it on?
MELISSA. Sure. Why not? I’ll take “Hurdles.”
HARRY. And we have … “Death.”
MELISSA. Death?
HARRY. Death.
MELISSA. I don’t get it. (The BUZZER sounds again.)
WOULD YOU STOP DOING THAT? I’m telling you, it
doesn’t make sense. Why would you have killed
yourself if death was an obstacle?
HARRY. It wasn’t an obstacle, it was a hurdle.
MELISSA. Why was it a hurdle and not an obstacle?
HARRY. Why do you think you’re playing this game?
(A little SONG starts to play.)
MELISSA. What is that?
HARRY. It’s Harry’s time running out.
MELISSA. But I’m not ready! I don’t know the
answer! (The MUSIC continues. SHE turns to Harry.)
Harry, help me!
HARRY. (As himself.) I’m trying.
MELISSA. Well you’re not doing a very good job.
HARRY. Neither are you. (Beat.) But take my advice,
you have to look at the whole picture, otherwise it’ll
never make sense.
(SHE stares at the “board” for a long moment,
frustrated that it’s not there. The MUSIC stops. The
BUZZER sounds again.)
HARRY. (As the game show host.) All right, Melissa,
your time is up. What is your answer?
MELISSA. I don’t know.
(The BUZZER sounds again.)
HARRY. I’m sorry, Melissa, that’s not a valid answer.
MELISSA. But I really don’t know.
HARRY. (As the game show host.) Oh, Harry is going
to be so sorry to hear that.
MELISSA. Oh, oh I don’t know, I don’t know!
HARRY. (As himself.) Take a stab at it, Mel.
MELISSA. Well, the only thing I can think of is that
you already knew you were going to die before you
killed yourself, but that can’t be it …
(Triumphant, happy MUSIC plays.)
HARRY. (HE celebrates, as the game show host.)
That’s it! You win! Let’s hear it for our contestant,
ladies and gentlemen!
MELISSA. (Not celebrating.) WAIT A MINUTE! (The
MUSIC stops abruptly.) What do you mean, “that’s it”?
HARRY. (As himself.) I mean, you figured it out. You
got your answer. Congratulations.
MELISSA. That’s the answer? You were going to die
whether you killed yourself or not?
HARRY. Eventually. (Beat.) I had cancer, Mel.
MELISSA. Cancer?
HARRY. Yeah, cancer.
MELISSA. I still don’t get it.
HARRY. Why not, Mel?
MELISSA. Cancer is … well it’s not … I mean, it’s
something people deal with Harry. It can even be
cured.
HARRY. If you have the time for it.
MELISSA. Jesus, Harry, you make the time! We’re
talking about your life here!
HARRY. No we’re not. My life’s over. There’s nothing
to talk about.
MELISSA. Like hell there isn’t. You should have been
able to make time for that Harry, that’s all there is to it.
HARRY. You’re right, Mel. I should have been able to
make the time. And I tried, believe me. I tried to fit it
in, but somehow “The Unknown” just didn’t look right
in the “future goals” section. And how much time do
you allot for something like that? An hour a day? One
day a week? You can’t do it. Truth is, you’d have to
throw out the whole damn schedule. The whole fucking
plan would be shot.
MELISSA. So?
HARRY. So, I always believed I was living my life. If I
tossed the plan, I’d be giving in. Life would be living
me. And I was too scared to let that happen. I did
commit suicide, Mel. But throwing myself under that
train was just the end of a very long road, one I started
down a long time ago. I couldn’t deal with a destiny I
could not define for myself.
MELISSA. But why didn’t you tell me? I could have
helped you.
HARRY. You think so? You won’t even help yourself,
Mel.
MELISSA. But I’m not dying.
HARRY. Sure you are. Every day.
(Beat.)
MELISSA. What am I supposed to do? Quit my job and
wander around the world looking for adventure?
HARRY. Is that what you want?
MELISSA. No. I don’t know. I don’t know what I
want.
HARRY. Then find out.
MELISSA. How?
HARRY. I can’t tell you that.
MELISSA. Don’t tell me, it’s against the rules, right?
HARRY. Worse. It would take away all the fun you’d
have finding out.
MELISSA. Would you really have gone to hell if I
hadn’t figured out the cancer thing?
HARRY. No. But I know you. You always work better
under pressure.
MELISSA. I miss you, Harry.
HARRY. I miss you, too.
MELISSA. If you could have told me about it you might
still be here.
HARRY. If I could have told you about it, I wouldn’t
have been me. (HE raises his hand in front of her in a
mock toast.) To ten years of friendship.
MELISSA. (Raising her had to touch his.) To ten years
of friendship.
HARRY. (HE grabs hold of her hand.) And the rest of
your life.
MELISSA. (After a beat.) And the rest of my life.
HARRY. I’m sorry, Mel. I never wanted to hurt you.
MELISSA. I know.
HARRY. I love you.
MELISSA. I love you, too.
HARRY. I’ll be watching out for you.
MELISSA. Oh, wait. You can’t go yet. I’m not ready.
HARRY. Oh, yes you are.
MELISSA. I still need you.
HARRY. I hope so. (Beat.) Remember me, Mel.
(HARRY walks through the mirror and disappears.)
MELISSA. Wait! HARRY! What about saving my life?
You didn’t tell me about that part yet? Harry? (SHE
stands there for a long moment, looking around the
room. SHE slowly starts to put things away in the box.
The last item she comes across is the day planner.
SHE stops for a moment, the opens it, looking for
Paul’s card. It is there. SHE slowly goes to the
telephone and dials.) Paul Iehl please. (Beat.) Paul?
This is Melissa Burns, Harry Conners’ friend? I spoke
with you at Harry’s… Yes, that’s right. I’m doing much
better, thank you, how are you? Listen, the reason I’m
calling it… well, I hope you don’t think this is too weird,
but I was wondering if you might like to get together
for a drink sometime next week. You would? Great!
Tuesday night? I don’t know… I’m going to have to get
back to you one that, Paul, I’ve left my day planner at
the office… (SHE stops.) No, Tuesday night will be
fine. Seven sounds good. (SHE looks at her watch.) I
don’t know, what about J.G. Mellon’s? (SHE is still
looking at the watch.) Paul? Do you have the time? I
think my watch must have stopped… Oh, come one, it
can’t be one thirty-one! No, I mean… No, never mind, I
guess I just lost track of time… I’ll see you on Tuesday,
Paul. Goodbye. (SHE hangs up the phone. SHE looks
up at the mirror and smiles. SHE picks up the day
planner and is about to put Paul’s card back in when
SHE stops. SHE walks over to the garbage can and
throws the day planner away, and puts the card in her
pocket. SHE walks over to the box, picks it up, and
turns to look at the room one last time.) Goodbye,
Harry. (SHE turns off the light and shuts the door.)

END