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Danny And The Deep Blue Sea
By John Patrick Shanley

Scene 1

Two tables, each illuminated by its own shaded light. Roberta sits at one in a vacant sulk, nursing a beer and picking at a bowl of pretzels. Enter Danny, with a pitcher of beer and a glass. He sits at the other. His hands are badly bruised, and one of his cheeks is cut. He pours himself a beer. A moment passes.

DANNY. How Ďbout a pretzel?
ROBERTA. No. Theyíre mine.
D. You ainít gonna eat all of Ďem. Lemme have one.
R. Fuck off.
D. All right.
R. You wanna pretzel?
D. Yeah. (Roberta picks up the bowl, takes it to Dannyís table, and goes straight back to her seat.)
R. You can have Ďem. Iím finished with Ďem.
D. Thanks.
R. Youíre welcome.
D. You want some of my beer?
R. No.
D. Some fuckin bar. Nobody here.
R. Thatís why I like it.
D. Whatís the matter? You donít like people?
R. No. Not really.
D. Me neither.
R. What happened to your hands?
D. Fight.
R. Whoíd you fight?
D. I donít know. Some guys last night. Tonight too.
R. Two fights?
D. Yeah.
R. How come?
D. I donít know. Guys bother me, I start swinging.
R. I donít get it. Did they say something to you?
D. (Exploding) Who the fuck asked you to get it! Ainít none of your fuckin business I lock horns with anybody! Nobody crosses my fuckin line, man! They can do what they want out there, but nobody crosses my fuckin line!
R. All right.
D. They asked me where I was going.
R. Who?
D. The guys I was fighting tonight.
R. They asked you where you were going.
D. Thatís right. So I decked the first guy. Hit him in the nose. You hit Ďem in the nose, they canít see.
R. Why not?
D. I donít know. But itís true.
R. All right.
D. But while I was hittin on him, the other guys got me with his belt.
R. That musta hurt.
D. Yeah. I made him eat that fuckin belt!
R. Where you from?
D. Zerega.
R. Yeah? I used to catch frogs from over at Zerega.
D. Ainít no frogs Ďround Zerega.
R. Not now. When I was a kid.
D. Ainít never been no frogs Ďround Zerega.
R. Yes, there was. There used to be a little like marsh over on Zerega, and it had frogs in it.
D. When?
R. A long time ago.
D. How oldís that make you?
R. Thirty-one
D. Iím twenty-nine. When I turn thirty Iím gonna put a gun in my mouth and blow my fuckin head off.
R. Do it in the bathroom. Itís easier to clean up.
D. Iím gonna do it!
R. Why you say a thing like that?
D. I donít know.
R. Ainít no different to be thirty.
D. Itís gotta be different.
R. Iím thirty-one.
D. I heard ya. Thatís you! Me, Iím twenty-nine and I canít stay the way I am for too fuckin long.
R. Why not?
D. Cause I canít!
R. You from Zerega whaddaya doing here?
D. Thereís nothing goin on over Zerega.
R. Nothing going on here.
D. Yeah, well maybe I like that. Peaceful.
R. You donít look peaceful to me.
D. Iím peaceful. But people fuck with me.
R. Why donít you come over, sit with me.
D. I donít wanna. This is good where I am.
R. All right.
D. Iím sorry.
R. Thatís all right.
D. Is that guy looking at me?
R. Who? Fred? No, heís sleeping. Heís drunk. Canít you see, his mouthís open.
D. Oh, yeah. Thereís light on his glasses. I couldnít see his eyes. I thought he was looking at me.
R. What if he was?
D. Iíd beat his fuckin face in. (They both laugh.)
D. You from here?
R. Yeah.
D. Where?
R. Right up the block.
D. What, you married?
R. Divorced.
D. Gotta kid?
R. Yeah.
D. Whoís takin care of the kid?
R. My mother. My mother always takes care of the kid.
D. Thatís a good deal.
R. Yeah. You gotta friend, you know, a girlfriend?
D. No.
R. No?
D. We broke up.
R. What was her name?
D. Cecilia.
R. Italian?
D. Yeah.
R. Iím Italian.
D. She gave me a pain in my ass! She was very fine, but sheíd make me go to her house. Sit around with her fuckin parents. And sheíd talk in this totally fuckin phoney-ass way when her parents were around. Would you like a glass of soda, Danny? Oh, please be careful with your cigarette, Danny. Like she wasnít the same one I humped inna pay toilet! Iím sorry. I gotta bad mouth.
R. Maybe she had to play phoney cause her parents were drivin her crazy?
D. I donít think so.
R. I hate my father. If I thought I wouldnít get in bad trouble
Iíd take a big knife and stab him in the face about fifty times.
D. I hate my father, too.
R. Yeah?
D. Heís dead, but I hate him anyway. He was a meatpacker. He used to get real mad all the time. One time he got so mad cause somebody did something, that he just fuckin died. I wish my father would die. He was the one who made me get married. This guy I knew got me pregnant. I was like eighteen. And my father made me get married to him. He wasnít a bad guy. We moved into this apartment. I was scared. But it was nice, too. I started, you know, to decorate. And then my parents started comin over all the time. This is how you put up curtains. This is how you wash the floor. My fuckin mother started cookin the fuckin meals! And this guy, my husband, he was like, What the fuck is goin on? His parents were cool. Just li8ke called once in a while on the phone. I felt so bad. Sick in the morning. Mother knockin on the door by twelve oíclock. My father comin in after work. And the guy, my husband, when he got there. It was like, Who the fuck are you?
D. Whatís your name?
R. Roberts
D. Mineís Danny.
R. Sometimes I just start screaming, you know? For no reason at all. My mother thinks Iím crazy. Maybe youíre right. Maybe I shoulda shot myself in the head when I turned thirty.
D. You want some beer?
R. Sure. (Danny brings over pitcher, pours some beer, and then goes back to his table.)
R. You waitin for somebody?
D. No.
R. Me neither.
D. I donít know anybody anymore.
R. I got a girlfriend. Shirley. She lives next door to me. Always has. Never got married. We used to have good times when we were kids. We both had long hair and weíd go bicycle riding. I have a picture home. We looked great. Sheís a pig now. She goes to these bars up in the two hundreds. They got live bands. Guys pick her up. She goes in cars with Ďem. Sheíll get in any guyís car. We used to sniff glue in my bedroom and get fucked up. She uses a lotta dope now. I use some, but she uses a lot.
D. I think I killed a guy last night.
R. How?
D. I beat him up.
R. Well, thatís not killing a guy.
D. I donít know.
R. What happened?
D. I was at this party. A guy named skull. Everybody was getting fucked up. Somebody said there was some guys from another neighborhood outside. I went out. There were these two guys from another neighborhood out there. I asked Ďem what they were doing there. They knew somebody. One of Ďem was a big guy. Real drunk. He said they wanted to go, but something about twenty dollars. I told him to give me the twenty dollars, but he didnít have it. I started hitting him. But when I hit him, it never seemed hard, you know? I hit him a lot in the chest and face but it didnít seem to do nothing. I had him over a car hood. His friend wanted to take him away. I said okay. They started to go down the block. And they started to fight. So I ran after them. I hit on the little guy a minute, and then started working on the big guy again. Everybody just watched. I hit him as hard as I could for about ten minutes. It never seemed like enough. Then I looked at his faceÖHis teeth were all broken. He fell down. I stomped on his fuckin chest and I heard something break. I grabbed him under the arms and pushed him over a little fence. Into somebodyís driveway. Somebody pointed to some guy and said he had the twenty dollars. I kicked him in the nuts. He went right off the ground. Then I left.
R. You probably didnít kill him.
D. I donít know.
R. I seen a lotta people get beat up. They looked real bad, but they were all right.
D. It donít matter.
R. You ever been in jail?
D. No.
R. I wonder what itís like. Maybe itís crazy, but sometimes I think Iíd like it.
D. Why?
R. I donít know. Just a change of scenery to keep me from going off my nut.
D. I donít get it.
R. What?
D. You donít make me mad.
R. So?
D. Everybody makes me mad. Thatís why I donít ever talk to nobody. Thatís why Iím sittin in this fuckin bar. I donít feel like walkin home. I feel like Iím gonna have to fight everybody in the whole fuckin Bronx to get home. And Iím too tired to fight everybody.
R. You live with your mother?
D. Yeah.
R. Think sheís worried?
D. My motherís a fuckin dishrag. Dishragís donít worry.
R. Is she stupid?
D. I donít know.
R. Well, whatís she like?
D. She works in a bakery. She gotta get up real early. When she comes home, she throws up.
R. Why?
D. From the sweetness. The smell of sweetness is too much, and it makes her puke.
R. My motherís nervous. Thereís something wrong with her thyroid.
D. Why donít you rip her fuckin thyroid out?
R. I donít know (Roberta comes over and joins Danny at his table.)
D. What are you doin?
R. Iím lonely.
D. I think youíre makin me mad.
R. Cause Iím sittin here?
D. Cause you want something, and I am definitely not up to fuckin nothin! You donít understand! Iím jumpin out of my fuckin skin! Everything hurt! I could bite your fuckin head! Leave me alone! Everything hurts! (She grabs him buy the shirt.)
R. Youíre crazy, you know that?
D. Yeah, I know.
R. Youíre lucky you donít stutter. Youíre lucky you donít bite your fuckin tongue! Youíre a lucky guy!
D. What the fuck are you sayin?
R. Nothing you could understand, alright?
D. You calling me stupid?
R. Iím calling you crazy, Crazy! But what you donít know is Iím crazy, too! Yeah. You donít know me! I could do anything. I did something so awful. I ainít even gonna tell you what. If I told you, you wouldnít even look at me. (She lets go of his shirt.)
D. There ainít nothing you coulda done would seem like anything to me. Whatíd you do?
R. Iím not gonna tell you.
D. Look, I think I killed a guy. What could be worse than that?
R. Suckin off your father.
D. What?
R. A daughter suckin off her father. Thatíd be worse than killin somebody, wouldnít it?
D. Did you do that?
R. Answer me!
D. I donít know. No. Did you do that?
R. Yeah.
D. I thought you hated the guy?
R. Yeah, I always did. I always hated him and wanted to run away. But then, after, I hated him different. So I wanted to stick a butcher knife in his nose. Ja! Right in the middle of his nose. And then pull it out slow till I got to his mouth.
D. That wouldnít kill him. I donít think it would.
R. Itís be good. Peopleíd ask him why I did it, and heíd say, I
donít know. But heíd know.
D. Iím havin trouble breathin.
R. Why? Whatís wrong?
D. I start thinkin about it. Whenever I start thinkin about breathin, I canít breathe right.
R. So forget it.
D. A guy told me, if you think youíre going to have a heart attack, if you keep thinkin about it, even if your heart was alright to begin with, in the end, youíll have one. You can make your heart go bad.
R. Thatís bullshit.
D. Itís true!
R. How do you know?
D. I can feel it happening! I donít wanna die like that! I donít wanna die from my own mind. I gotta think about something else. Davy Crockett. (Sings.) Davy! Davy CrockettÖ.!
R. He came into my room. He was drunk. It was real real dark. He was mad cuase Iíd gone out partyin and my mother was away and nobodyíd been watching the kid. He was yellin at me and I was sayin I was sorry. He put his hand on my face. I put my hand out and touched him. There. He got quiet. Thatís what did it. I made him quiet. I could never make him do anything. Thatís why I did it. So I could make him do things. That was the only time. There was one other time after that when he wanted me to, but I wouldnít. And that was good, too. Right then.
D. I was supposed to marry this girl Cecilia. I called her Sissy. She liked that, but she wouldnít let me call her that in front of her parents. I donít know what was with her and her parents.
R. Did you hear what I told you about me and my father?
D. Yeah, I heard.
R. Would you be able to kiss a girl whoíd done that?
D. It donít mean nothin to me.
R. Really?
D. Sure really.
R. Would you kiss me?
D. What, you donít get kissed?
R. Nobody knows but you.
D. Whatíd you tell me for?
R. I donít know.
D. Well, I wonít tell nobody.
R. That donít help.
D. What díyou want?
R. How am I gonna get rid of this?
D. What?
R. What I done!
D. I donít know.
R. I canít stay like I am! I canít stay in this fuckin head anymore! If I donít get outta this fuckin head Iím gonna go crazy. I could eat glass! I could put my hand inna fire and watch the fuckin thing burn and I still wouldnít be outta this fuckin head! What am I gonna do? What? I canít close my eyes, man. I canít close my eyes and see the things I see. Iím still in that house! I wouldnít a believed it but Iím still in that house. Heís there and Iím there. And my kid. Whoís nuts already. Itís like, what could happen now? You know? What else could happen? But somethinís gotta. I feel like the dayís gonna come when I could just put out my arm and fire and lightning will come outta my hand and burn up everything for a thousand miles! It ainít right to feel as much as I feel.
D. What you tellin me for?
R. No reason, all right?
D. You want something.
R. So what. Donít you?
D. No.
R. Liar.
D. Hey, you wanna smack? I donít lie!
R. So, what if you did, it ainít so terrible.
D. I donít lie!
R. All right.
D. Iím tellin you the truth. I donít want nothin from you.
R. I got a good deal in my house. I got somethin itís like almost my own apartment. When you get to the top of the stairs, thereís a separate door to the room I sleep in. Donít have to deal with my parents at all if I go right in that room. Iíd never deal with Ďem if it wasnít for the kid.
D. Iím not goin anywhere with you.
R. Who asked you to? So what are you goin to do?
D. Stay here, drink my beer.
R. All night?
D. Thatís right.
R. The place closes.
D. So when it closes, Iíll go someplace else!
R. All the places close.
D. Iíll go someplace else!
R. And get in a fight, right?
D. Maybe. If people fuck with me!
R. Ainít no maybe. Youíre gonna haveta fight. Because you were right. Youíre goinna haveta fight every motherfuckin body in the Bronx. And even it probably wonít get you home.
D. You donít know.
R. I know.
D. Get off my case, bitch!
R. Come home with me.
D. What for?
R. Cause youíre the one I told.
D. That ainít no reason.
R. Oh, yes it is! It is to me.
D. No.
R. Let me ask you something.
D. I ainít tellin you shit.
R. Tell me why your hands are all ripped up.
D. I gotin a fight!
R. And that mark on your face.
D. I got in a fight, I told ya!
R. Yeah, you told me.
D. Thatís right.
R. And you think you killed somebody.
D. Thatís right, too.
R. Why?
D. Shut up!
R. I wanna know.
D. What are you, a fuckin social worker! Shut up I said!
R. Why donít you tell me before somethin happens and you canít tell me no more?
D. Youíer tryin ta cross my fuckin line, man!
R. Thatís right! I am. Iíve been sittin here starin at a spot on the wall for about a thousand years, and if I donít talk to somebody about somethin, somethin that means somethin, Iím gonna snap out! You understand? Iím gonna snap the fuck out!
D. Donít you work no shit on my head or Iíll kill ya, understand?
R. I understand, okay? I just donít give a flyin fuck.
D. You can do what you want out there, but donít cross my line or youíll be dead!
R. Then Iíll be dead. That scares me about as much as Halloween.
D. Donít push me.
R. Why not? What else I got to do to pass the fuckin time?
D. Donít, Iím tellin ya!
R. I know. I know. Youíre a cold killer with a hair trigger and I better tiptoe outta your way before I get wasted. Pardon me if I donít faint.
D. Please!
R. You donít scare me, asshole. I see worse than you crawlin around in my sink. Youíre about as bad as a faggot in his Sunday dress! Your mamma probably still gives you her tit when you get shook up! (She starts slapping him.) What the matter, badass? Somebody get your matches wet? This your time of the month? Huh? Huh? You donít remember how to pop your fuckin cork? Huh? Or do you get off on pigs rubbin their shoes on your ugly dick-lick face, you lowlife beefcake faggot! (Snapping out, he roars and chokes her. She doesnít struggle.)
D. I told you! I told you!
R. IÖ.gotÖ
D. You canít push me!
R. Harder.
D. (Lets her go in horror.) Jesus!
R. Whyíd you stop?
D. Donít talk to me.
R. Who am I gonna talk to if I donít talk to you?
D. (Starts to cry.) Leave me alone.
R. No.
D. Everybody leave me alone.
R. Why you so quick with your hands?
D. I donít know.
R. You know.
D. Iím too full.
R. What?
D. Iím too fullÖ.for anythingÖto move right. I canítÖWatch out.
R. Talk.
D. Watch out. Listen. I canít stop myself if I hit you.
R. Thatís all right. I donít care and Iím not scared.
D. People canít talk to me anymore.
R. I hear you.
D. I canít work anymore. They donít want me on the truck.
R. I hear you.
D. Itís like they donít listen to what they say to each other. If they was listenin, theyíd have to start swinging. Theyíd have to.
R. But you listen.
D. I donít want to.
R. But it ainít a question a want.
D. No.
R. Itís how you are.
D. I start to think. Iím breathin, Iím breathin, and then that gets hard to do cause Iím thinkin about it, and I start to think about getting a heart attack, and I feel pain, O NO, everything hurts! Everything hurts! Why does it keep on when I canít do anything. Somebody help me!
R. Iíll help you.
D. Somebody help me.
R. Iíll help you, baby.
D. Everything hurts all the time.
R. I know, I know.
D. The only thing that stops it is when I hit on somebody. Then Iím nobody and itís just the other guy I see. I can just jump on him and outta me. Make it go out, out!
R. Iím gonna take you home, baby.
D. I donít wanna
R. Yes, you do.
D. What for?
R. For love.
D. Love?
R. Weíre gonna love each other.
D. I canít do that.
R. Weíre gonna love each other. I hear the birds in the morning at my window. It always hurts me. Weíll hear the birds in the morning.
D. I gotta go home.
R. You got no home.
D. Yes, I do.
R. You got no home. Just like me.
D. I gotta go home.
R. My poor sweetheart. Heís gotta go home but heís got no home.
D. No. Youíre right. I donít.
R. Me neither. I got no home neither. But Iím gonna take you home, baby, and itís gonna be there.
D. The guys I work with. The guys on the truck. They call me the Beast.
R. Come on. Letís get outta here. Letís go home.

(They exit, slowly and quietly. The lights go down.)

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