by William M. Razavi

JIMMY: Amy.

AMY: Jimmy.

JIMMY: Orange?

AMY: I need coffee first.

JIMMY: Maybe later.

AMY: Maybe.

JIMMY: I don’t know how you can start your day without an orange. The orange is like the sun, it gives life, it gives light.

AMY: My day hasn’t started yet.

JIMMY: Flores, flores para los muertos.

ASHLEY: Jimmy. How’s the orange business?

JIMMY: Lousy. Do you want to know why?

ASHLEY: Sure.

JIMMY: People don’t know what it is to live anymore. Used to be people would get up in the morning, have an orange, face the day, face life. Now, I don’t know what people do. I think they live in fear. Fear of life, fear of death, fear of oranges.

ASHLEY: I think you may be right. You may also be wrong. But I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt, Jimmy–because I like you.

JIMMY: You’re as sweet as an orange, Ashley.

JOE: Jimmy.

JIMMY: Joe.

JOE: Jimmy.

JIMMY: Joe.

JOE: Jimmy.

JIMMY: Jimmy.

JOE: Joe. Oh, you’re good.

JIMMY: I know.

JOE: Give me an orange.

JIMMY: Navel?

JOE: Anything you got. I’ve got a big case today.

JIMMY: An orange is like a miracle with a rind.

JOE: Give me another miracle. I’ll need it.

ASHLEY: Hey, Joe. Whaddya know?

JOE: I know you. That’s enough for me.

ASHLEY: Joe, you’re impossible.

JOE: Try me. I’m very possible.

ASHLEY: You’re sweet, Joe.

JOE: I thought I was impossible.

ASHLEY: You were. Now you’re sweet.

JOE: I need tulips.

ASHLEY: You’ve got two lips. That not enough for you?

JOE: A pair of white tulips.

ASHLEY: What does that mean?

JOE: I don’t believe in symbolism.

ASHLEY: Then why just a pair.

JOE: I don’t believe in overdoing it.

ASHLEY: Here you go–two white tulips. If you need anymore tulips, you know where to go.

JOE: Thanks. Here, have an orange.

ASHLEY: An orange?

JOE: Yeah. I think you might like it.

JOE: Amy.

AMY: Hello, Joe. The usual?

JOE: Better give me two.

AMY: Expecting company?

JOE: I’m always expecting company.

AMY: Anyone important?

JOE: They’re always important.

AMY: I’ll have those right up.

JOE: Here’s a little something for you.

AMY: Joe. You shouldn’t have.

JOE: You looked like you needed it.

AMY: That’s a hell of a compliment.

JOE: You’re a hell of a woman, Amy.

JIMMY: Orange?

ANNE: Why would I want an orange?

JIMMY: A day without an orange is like a life without moonlight.

ANNE: I don’t have time for moonlight or oranges. Sorry.

JIMMY: Yeah. Sorry.

ASHLEY: Flower? We’ve got some nice tulips.

ANNE: I don’t buy flowers. I get flowers. And then when things go bad I have to stare at dying flowers.

ASHLEY: You could try pressing them.

ANNE: Great idea. Hang onto that one. It’s a real winner.

ANNE: Hi! I need–

JOE: Here you go.

ANNE: I was about to order.

JOE: I got an extra. You can have it.

ANNE: It’s not what I want. I can order what I want.

JOE: How do you know it’s not what you want? You haven’t even looked at it.

ANNE: I always get–

ANNE: This. How did you know?

JOE: I didn’t. But you never know. See you around.

ANNE: Wait. How much do I owe you?

ANNE: I don’t even know your name!

AMY: It’s Joe.

ANNE: Oh.

AMY: Joe’s a good guy.

ANNE: Yeah. I guess.

AMY: He’s a real good guy. Haven’t had much luck lately?

ANNE: How about never. I was thinking just the other day–do you see that woman over there?

AMY: The one talking to Jimmy?

ANNE: Is Jimmy the guy with the oranges?

AMY: Yeah.

ANNE: Yeah, that’s her. Don’t look. Okay, now look. She’s been following me.

AMY: Really?

ANNE: I–Okay, I know this is a little crazy but–I’ve just had this feeling. I keep seeing that woman everywhere I go.

AMY: Maybe it’s just coincidence.

ANNE: I thought it might be a coincidence. I mean, I’d see her all the time at the grocery store and I thought ‘hey, everyone gets groceries’ and at the mall and when I went out to eat. People go out to eat. And then I’d see her near where I live and I figured she lived nearby. But then I went to Chicago and I thought I saw her at O’Hare and I thought I was going crazy. I thought I was seeing things. But then I saw her nearly every day in Chicago. At least once a day, sometimes more. Always somewhere just nearby. Just too far to be sure, but just close enough to catch a glimpse of. She haunts me every moment of the day. And now I keep seeing her in my dreams.

AMY: Maybe she looks like someone you know. Maybe like someone from when you were a kid. And so the face looks familiar.

ANNE: But why would she have been in Chicago?

AMY: People go to Chicago all the time.

Pause.

AMY: All the time.

ANNE: But her. When I was there. It was too convenient.

AMY: Well, here’s your chance to find out who she is. Why don’t you walk up to her right now?

ANNE: I think I will.

ANNE: Hi.

JIMMY: Hi.

ANNE: Do you know who that woman was?

JIMMY: Not a clue.

ANNE: Did you catch a name? Anything?

JIMMY: No.

ANNE: What did you talk about?

JIMMY: Oranges.

ANNE: Oranges?

JIMMY: And lemons. Oranges and lemons.

JOE: Jimmy.

JIMMY: Joe.

JOE: What’s the good word, Jimmy?

JIMMY: Elegiac.

JOE: That’s a good word.

JIMMY: Orange.

JOE: Give me two.

JIMMY: Two oranges. There you go.

JOE: Have you ever had a clementine?

JIMMY: I’ve had them all. Tangerines, clementines, blood oranges. I’ve even had grapefruit. But they’re not oranges. A clementine just doesn’t cut it. It’s like a memory of an orange, and that’s good and well for what it is, but it’s not an orange.

JOE: What about lemons?

JIMMY: Don’t even talk to me about lemons. They can’t go where oranges can go.

JOE: But you like lemons.

JIMMY: I respect lemons. They’re a good honest citrus and they do what all citrus does. But the orange represents culture, civilization, the wonder of humanity. I can peel an orange and see in it the whole world, the whole universe. The way a painter can look at a blank canvas and see possibility. Inside every orange there are a thousand stories, a thousand epics, a thousand verses. And then some. A lemon, though, it’s just a lemon. And that’s fine. But it’s not transcendent.

JOE: How about limes?

JIMMY: Don’t even get me started.

ASHLEY: Can I get you anything?

JOE: Tulips. Red.

ASHLEY: That’s not symbolic, is it?

JOE: I have no idea what that would mean.

ASHLEY: Sure, sure. Why don’t you get roses?

JOE: Everybody gets roses. But tulips, they’re…transcendent.

ASHLEY: Suit yourself.

JOE: Have an orange. I think it’ll make your day.

ASHLEY: How would you know what would make my day?

JOE: I can see into your soul.

ASHLEY: Oh, yeah?

JOE: Yeah. And your soul wants an orange.

ASHLEY: That’s enough lip from you.

JOE: Alright.

ASHLEY: And give me that orange.

JOE: Okay.

AMY: The usual?

JOE: How about something different.

AMY: And what do these mean?

JOE: They mean…well…they mean…that I…think…you…can give it your own meaning.

AMY: That’s a brave choice.

JOE: I trust your judgment.

AMY: You’d better.

JOE: Oh, I do.

AMY: Here’s something new.

AMY: Well?

JOE: It’s new.

AMY: But do you like it?

JOE: Did you like the tulips?

AMY: Yes.

JOE: This is the finest coffee I’ve ever had.

AMY: It’s tea.

JOE: I stand by my statement.

AMY: You’re impossible.

JOE: People tell me that all the time.

AMY: People are perceptive.

JOE: How’s the coffee?

ANNE: Best coffee in town.

JOE: Seen any shadows lately?

ANNE: Every day.

JOE: I see.

ANNE: She’s everywhere. I see her reflection in windows. I see her in the distance. And she’s always looking at me.

JOE: And she doesn’t say anything?

ANNE: No. Every time I go near her she disappears.

JOE: That’s strange.

ANNE: Sometimes I think I see her face in front of me, then I wake up and realize that it was just a dream. Why would anyone haunt me like this?

JOE: I don’t know.

ANNE: Do you have dreams?

JOE: Dreams? Yeah, all the time. There’s a real crazy one where I own a pizza parlor and the dough keeps sticking to the ceiling.

ANNE: That’s a great dream. I’ll trade you.

JOE: You can borrow it anytime.

ANNE: Right. Well, I’m late for work. Gotta go.

SHADOW: Hello, Anne.

ANNE: Who are you? Why are you following me?

SHADOW: You know me.

ANNE: I don’t know who you are.

SHADOW: Of course you do.

ANNE: Were we in grade school together?

SHADOW: Yes.

ANNE: So that’s it?

SHADOW: And in all the years since.

ANNE: What?

SHADOW: I’m all of your dreams, your aspirations, your deepest desires. I’m every regret you’ve ever had, every thought you’ve ever thought, every sigh you ever sighed.

I’m all the love you’ve ever had, all the love you’ve ever craved. I’m your secrets and your ambitions, and everything that runs through your mind, everything that’s in your heart. I’m every idea you’ve ever been curious about and every image that’s ever passed before your eyes.

ANNE: You’re crazy.

SHADOW: I’ve been with you a long time.

ANNE: I think you should leave now.

SHADOW: Really?

ANNE: I’m leaving.

SHADOW: I thought you’d be braver than that.

ANNE: Well, I’m not. You’d know that if you were who you say you are.

SHADOW: I know all that, and I know everything else too.

ANNE: You don’t know anything.

SHADOW: You don’t have a favorite color.

ANNE: Lots of people don’t have favorite colors. Let’s not play psychic games.

SHADOW: Okay, ask me a hard question.

ANNE: What’s my favorite movie?

SHADOW: Whenever someone asks you that question you usually pick a recent popular movie because you’re afraid to give anything away about yourself. Your real favorite movie is Doctor Zhivago. But what you never tell anyone is that whenever you see the first snow of the year you get a little sad and sometimes you cry for no reason, but the real reason is that the snow reminds you of Doctor Zhivago even though you’re never quite sure why or why that should make you sad.

ANNE: I–you can’t have known that.

SHADOW: I have to know it. I am that.

ANNE: Why are you following me?

SHADOW: I’ve always been following you.

ANNE: Stop following me. Stop haunting me. Leave me alone.

SHADOW: I’m afraid I can’t do that. I am you.

ANNE: You’re not me. I’m me. You’re someone–something else. Leave me alone.

SHADOW: I am a part of you. Without you I don’t exist. Without me, you wouldn’t be you.

ANNE: And what if I don’t want to be that anymore? What if I’m through with everything that you represent? What if I just don’t care?

SHADOW: Then I die.

ANNE: Just like that?

SHADOW: Just like that. It’s really easy.

ANNE: Show me.

ANNE: Show me!

SHADOW: Okay.

ANNE: No! Wait. This isn’t real. You can stop this anytime. Just tell me who you really are and who’s put you up to this.

SHADOW: I’m all of your fears, all of your worries. I’m every whispered word to someone, I’m every moment that you’ve lived.

ANNE: You’re a monster.

SHADOW: I am you.

ANNE: Then I’m a monster.

SHADOW: No. You’re just a person.

ANNE: That’s the first sensible thing you’ve said. You can leave me alone now.

SHADOW: Do you really want me to do that?

ANNE: Yes. I don’t like being followed. I don’t like looking back and seeing your face. It’s–well, it’s not really reassuring.

SHADOW: I suppose it isn’t.

JIMMY: Do you want an orange?

ANNE: What?

JIMMY: When you peel an orange, you look into the eye of the universe.

ANNE: And what do you see?

JIMMY: You see every dream, every fear, every aspiration, every desire you’ve ever had.

ANNE: What?

JIMMY: You see yourself as you were, as you are, and as you might have been. You see the first snow falling on the ground.

ANNE: You see all of that–inside an orange?

JIMMY: Every orange is a miracle.

ANNE: I have to go.

JIMMY: Do you want an orange?

ANNE: I want them all.

JIMMY: Do you want those in bags or boxes?

ANNE: Hi.

SHADOW: Hi.

ANNE: Do all of my dreams, aspirations, fears and desires want to have a cup of coffee with me?

SHADOW: Really?

ANNE: Yes. I’d like to talk.

SHADOW: I’d like that.