Mr. Burns and Other Plays. Anne Washburn

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       What iniquity have you found in me

       that you have turned from me

       that you are gone so far from me

       yet return again to me, saith the Lord

       How can you say: I am not polluted?

       Thou hast forsaken me

       and walked after the imagination of thy own heart.

       You are a wild ass, used to the wilderness

       that traverses the high places

       that snuffeth up the wind at her pleasure

       all they that seek her will not weary themselves

       thou hast played the harlot with many lovers

       For this shall the black earth mourn

       and the heavens above be black; because I have spoken it,

       I have purposed it and will not repent

       neither will I turn back from it

       Be astonished, Oh ye heavens at this, and be horribly afraid

       be ye very desolate

       Saith the Lord.

      CHAPTER 6

       Hananiah and Ruthie at home. Hananiah sits in a chair, a book in his lap. Ruthie has just entered the room.

      RUTHIE: I think we should think about packing.

      HANANIAH (Amused): Where are we going?

      RUTHIE: I think it would make sense to have a suitcase in readiness.

       Beat.

      HANANIAH: You’re worried. You’re panicking.

      RUTHIE: With changes of clothes and our papers and, I don’t know: powdered milk, a pack of matches wrapped up in tinfoil; I think we should have a plan, I mean it, I think we should have a fallback position, a house up country. Diagrams.

       Another beat.

      HANANIAH: Of what? We can’t afford / a house up country.

      RUTHIE: A flow chart. If not A, then B. If not B, then C. If not C, then D. So that if things start to happen very quickly, we aren’t confused. We can be programmatic. And efficient, in our response.

       He moves toward her, she stops him.

       You’re going to tell me that everything is going to be all right.

      HANANIAH: Yes. It will be.

       She has shut her eyes and stopped her ears.

      RUTHIE: And I’ll believe you. And it might be more sensible, if I didn’t. Because I’m a little stupid about these things. I don’t notice things right away. I’ll look around one day and I’ll realize that everyone is wearing belts. Like, a kind of belt. And it’s obvious that they’ve been wearing them for months. And I haven’t been wearing a belt at all, for months, the whole time thinking that everything was fine, that I was looking good, when I was beltless and essentially naked before the world. Do you understand? I’m oblivious I can’t trust the evidence of my senses, or, my powers of observation.

       I can’t trust my beliefs.

       And I believe in you. But I think we should leave. I think it’s time to go.

       She opens her eyes.

      HANANIAH (Unruffled): You think that I have you in a kind of hypnotic thrall.

      RUTHIE: Yeah. This has to be your least favorite fight.

      HANANIAH: Well. “A prophet hath no honor in his own living room” right.

       She shrugs.

       A bit of a pause; he starts:

       Look,

      RUTHIE: No. You’re about to be convincing. I am begging you. Please don’t convince me.

       Long pause.

      HANANIAH: What if we—

       He holds up a warning hand.

       I’m not. What if we stock up on emergency supplies. For the closet. Would that work as a compromise?

      RUTHIE: That’s, no. And we have everything. We have water and chlorine pills and cans and cans and cans and a can opener—

      HANANIAH: Where?

      RUTHIE: On the upper shelf, you never go in there. We have batteries and antibiotic and vitamins

      HANANIAH (Teasing): Do we have duct tape?

      RUTHIE: We have a whole—

       She holds her hands up to gesture it while she tries to think of the word.

       A whole mini flat of it.

      HANANIAH: NO.

      RUTHIE (It’s silly): Yeah, we do. We do.

       He takes her hand, then her other hand. He pulls her to him, her resisting just a bit then yielding. He puts his arms around her. He rocks her a bit. He puts his hand on her cheek.

      HANANIAH: Do you know what?

       Slightly charged pause.

      RUTHIE: What.

      HANANIAH: It’s going to be all right.

      RUTHIE: Oh shit. Fuck.

      HANANIAH (Still rocking her gently): I mean it. I know it. I’m not saying things won’t be difficult, of course they’ll be difficult. They’re always difficult. And of course you should be strong, it always makes sense to be strong, and it always makes sense to be prepared and lists . . . (Laughing) lists are wonderful but don’t be afraid. You don’t need to be afraid.

      RUTHIE (Rocking with him): Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

      CHAPTER 7

       Emily and PT are in a rural graveyard.

       A little bit of scattered light cricketing.

       They’re looking through the tombstones, they are looking for something; PT is reading aloud.

      PT: Lizzie Hale McKee

       Cornelius Foster

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