Samuel French Acting Edition

Alabaster

by Audrey Cefaly

Nominated for the 2020 Pulitzer Prize

Kilroys-Listed 2020
Winner of the Calicchio Prize - 2017

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Gurman Agency LLC
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New York, NY 10122-1701
Tel: 212 749 4618
susan@[Link]

Learn more about the playwright:

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FLORIDA REP
WORLD PREMIERE
2020
 Copyright © 2020 by Audrey Cefaly
All Rights Reserved

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ISBN 978-0-573-70850-3
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ALABASTER was first produced by Florida Repertory Theatre (Greg
Longenhagen, Artistic Director; John Martin, Executive Director) in Fort
Myers, Florida on December 20, 2019 as the first of an eleven-theatre
National New Play Network Rolling World Premiere. The production
was directed by Jason Parrish, with a scenic design by Richard Crowell,
costume design by Charlene Gross, lighting and projection design by
Rob Siler, sound design by Katie Lowe, and original outsider folk art by
Sara Morsey. The production stage manager was Ruth E. Kramer. The
cast was as follows:

JUNE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Rachel Burttram

ALICE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Dana Brooke
WEEZY . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Carolyn Messina
BIB . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Sara Morsey

ALABASTER then received an eleven-theater National New Play

Network Rolling World Premiere with support from the David Goldman
Fund for New American Plays. Participating Theaters: Capital Stage
(Sacramento, California), 16th Street Theater (Berwyn, Illinois), Kitchen
Dog Theater (Dallas, Texas), Shrewd Productions (Austin, Texas), Know
Theatre of Cincinnati (Cincinnati, Ohio), Phoenix Theatre (Indianapolis,
Indiana), Williamston Theatre (Williamston, Michigan), Salt Lake
Acting Company (Salt Lake City, Utah), New Jersey Repertory Company
(Long Branch, New Jersey), and Oregon Contemporary Theatre
(Eugene, Oregon).
 CHARACTERS
ALICE – a renowned photographer
JUNE – an Alabama outsider artist
WEEZY – a goat (and daughter to Bib)
BIB – a very old goat (and mother to Weezy)
Neither Bib nor Weezy should be dressed like goats. While they may
have the occasional goat “feature,” mostly they walk and talk just like
humans. The goats are not caricatures. They are as real as any human.
They have their own goat language, which – in moments of joy and grief
and everything in between – is genuine and specific. They bleat and bah
as goats do, with intention, creating a real dialogue between characters.
We should be able to see their faces, their expressions, etc. This is vital.

SETTING
Somewhere near Alabaster, Alabama, mid-July. Portrait of an old
farmhouse, mid-morning. The focal point is a master bedroom. An
assemblage of outsider art, stacks of barn wood, and art supplies fill
the corners of this sun-lit room along with a large old bed. The room
should look more like a working art studio than an art gallery.
Also in this picture is a yard, a porch, and a space for Weezy and Bib
(a pallet of straw and a small goat barn).
This place, a virtual canvas, gains color and crispness as the story moves
along, reflecting at any moment the mood or perspective of what the
players experience as well as their point of view through the “viewfinder.”
Projections are encouraged but not required.

TIME
Present day.
 AUTHOR’S NOTES
This is not a friendly farm. Death is known to the inhabitants of this
realm and to the creatures lured into its clutches in a way that changes
them forever. In this story, which spans a single day, we are experiencing
four “women,” each at a crossroads, each facing a wall of fire. Though at
times it may seem like they are simply exchanging pleasantries, they are
quite literally fighting for their lives. In “come to Jesus” moments like
these, worn down by the never-ending savage blows of life, we are faced
with our own mortality. We understand time as a luxury. Weezy is an
all-seeing, all-knowing instrument of the Divine. She is of another realm
and of a higher purpose.
In this world. On this day. The time for pleasantries is over.
Resist the urge to play things “nice.”

Important Note: The scars (predominantly seen on June’s face and back)
may be manifested in any number of ways (e.g. prosthetics, tattoos,
or even projections); so long as they and the SEVERITY of them are
CLEARLY visible to the audience. This is not negotiable. This is a play
about scars. Do not attempt this play unless you can commit to the scars.
For Carolyn
my rock…
my barkeep…
my hero…
 ACT I

Scene One

(AT RISE: Saturday, mid-morning. WEEZY

enters the light. She addresses the audience
as she addresses nearly everyone else around
her: with a neutral, no-nonsense, no-bullshit
tone.)
WEEZY. (More dry than convivial.) My name is Weezy, I am
a goat, I am aware that I am a goat.
(Looking around at the audience.)
We are presently on a small farm in the backwoods of
North Alabama.
(Beat.)
So that’s happenin.
(Beat.)
We are in –
(The unmistakable sound of a goat is heard.)
BIB. (From off.) Mmaaahaaaahaaaaaahaaah!
WEEZY. We’ll get through it together.
(Beat.)
We are in Alabaster, Alabama. Right near Gip’s Place,*
of which you might have heard, the last remainin juke
joint in the state of Alabama. It’s BYOB, which’s nothin

* Mr. Gip passed away during the premiere of this play. The future of
Gip’s Place is unknown.

9
10 ALABASTER

to do with this story, but is useful information on a

Friday night.
(BIB, a very old goat, slightly disoriented
(possible dementia), enters and calls to
WEEZY.)
BIB. Maahaaaahaahaa…
(BIB walks toward WEEZY.)
Maaaaaah…
WEEZY. (To the audience.) That’s my mama. Bib.
(BIB notices the audience. She is highly
put out at the sight of so many unexpected
visitors. She looks at WEEZY and back at the
audience.)
We don’t get many visitors.
BIB. (To WEEZY – “What’s all this, Field of Dreams?”)
Mmah-Maaah…
(During the following, BIB works her way
across the yard to her pallet at the goat barn
giving certain audience members a suspicious
side-eye and griping along the way. At times,
she stops and re-routes herself. It is obvious
she has directional issues. WEEZY helps BIB
along as necessary (ad lib) using directional
comments (i.e., “Around the garden, Mama…
right.”)
WEEZY. (To the audience.) She’s sick. Old and sick.
(To BIB.) You stay off those beet greens, Mama, you
know how they like to repeat on ya.
(To the audience.) I didn’t always know my mama. I
was taken from her when I was real little.
(BIB settles onto her pallet.)
I have no memory of her from before. But she’s here
now. Right.
(To BIB.) OK, Mama?
 ALABASTER 11

(BIB closes her eyes.)

(Lights up on a large sunlit bedroom filled
with stacks of barn wood, paintings, cans of
house paint, and art supplies. On the bed,
a woman sits dressed in a robe, nervously
sipping from a coffee mug and looking
anxiously around the room. Her face, arms,
shoulders, torso, back, and legs are covered in
scars (puncture wounds, abrasions, gashes,
and surgical scars).)
(To the audience.) That’s June. June and me, we have a
connection.
(To JUNE.) Right, June?
(JUNE shoots WEEZY “the bird” then goes back
to looking around the room nervously. In
the midst of all this, there are camera bags,
video and lighting equipment lying around
the room.)
(A photographer (ALICE) enters the bedroom
as if returning from a related task. She begins
setting up her tripod and video camera,
pointing it in the direction of the bed.)
And that’s a new person. She’s not from around here.
(To JUNE.) Just remember, June. You asked her to come.
(JUNE nods nervously in response.)
(Note: JUNE and WEEZY are able to see and
hear each other as if there were no walls
between them. For the duration of the play,
WEEZY moves wherever she likes; she has full
command of the stage, and sits and walks
wherever necessary to communicate with
and observe the other players. Her default
position, however, is in the lawn chair next
to her ailing mother, BIB. ALICE is unaware of
WEEZY’s presence.)
12 ALABASTER

(WEEZY tucks BIB into bed and watches the

action unfold, eating popcorn, drinking beer,
and occasionally commenting on the scene
to the players and sometimes directly to the
audience, as if watching a daytime soap.)
JUNE. (Nervously.) Did you get somethin to eat? People
talk about eatin when they don’t know what to talk
about.
ALICE. I had a snack on the plane.
JUNE. Never been on a plane. I don’t really know anybody
I could fly to, anyway. Well, I know you now, I could fly
to you. Times Square, maybe.
ALICE. See a show?
JUNE. Nah. I wanna eat street food. Mystery meat. On
sticks. Stand there in the middle of it, feel big or feel
small.
(Beat.)
You live in Brooklyn right?
(JUNE takes a sip from her coffee mug.)
ALICE. That’s debatable.
(Off JUNE’s look.) I’m kind of sorting that out.
(Beat.)
Is that coffee?
JUNE. Variation on coffee.
ALICE. What’s the variation?
JUNE. I use Bourbon instead.
ALICE. Instead of / what?
JUNE. (Overlapping.) Instead of coffee.
(JUNE offers ALICE a sip.)
ALICE. Tempting.
JUNE. Gotta be somewhere.
ALICE. It’s the work, ya know?
JUNE. The work.
 ALABASTER 13

ALICE. Nothing personal.

JUNE. Do you know Annie Leibovitz?
ALICE. I do know Annie.
JUNE. What’s she like?
ALICE. She’s hilarious. And very real. And miles ahead.
JUNE. I read some place it’s the photographer’s job to make
their subjects comfortable. She does not…subscribe to
this notion.
ALICE. (Playfully.) Well, we’re not wedding planners. I’m
not supposed to console you, I’m supposed to capture
you.
JUNE. (Suggestively.) I bet that was meant to sound
dangerous.
ALICE. (Playing along.) Did it not sound dangerous?
JUNE. It did not sound dangerous.
ALICE. OK, define dangerous.
JUNE. (Sipping from her mug.) Clowns. Banana slugs. Me.
(Beat.)
We used to let outsiders just come and go but things
have gotten so desperate.
ALICE. (Playing along.) Oh yeah?
JUNE. It’s the inbreedin, we lay traps.
(Suggestively.) Amazin what we catch.
ALICE. Really…?
JUNE. Really.
(Pause.)
ALICE. (Suggestively.) What do you use for bait?
(An electric pause.)
(Interrupting cell phone: ALICE’s phone
rings with some VERY UNPLEASANT
RINGTONE.)
JUNE. Who the fuck is on your shit list?
ALICE. My dad.
14 ALABASTER

JUNE. Solid.
(ALICE digs for the phone in her backpack and
dismisses the call.)
ALICE. Sorry.
JUNE. Alice?
ALICE. Yeah?
JUNE. Breathe.
ALICE. That’s my line.
(ALICE takes a deep cleansing breath. JUNE,
WEEZY, and BIB (almost in unison) take a
deep cleansing breath*.)
JUNE. You need a break?
ALICE. I’m good.
(ALICE resumes setting up her equipment.)
JUNE. So, how many women have you…ya know…
ALICE. You’re number seven.
JUNE. Lucky seven. You just go from city to city…
ALICE. Pretty much.
JUNE. (Intentionally ambiguous.) Got a favorite?
ALICE. Savannah.
JUNE. (Playfully.) Is she pretty?
ALICE. What – oooh, you’re asking me to pick a favorite
woman.
JUNE. ALICE.
Sure. No way.
JUNE. (A new tack.) Do they all have scars like me?
(Pause.)
Guess not.
ALICE. What are you asking?
JUNE. I thought that was pretty straight forward.

* Breathing is an important and recurring motif in this play. These

moments lead us into new territory and create a togetherness,
an intimacy. All breaths should be audible to the audience.
 ALABASTER 15

ALICE. Ya think?
JUNE. (Dryly.) I don’t know what to think, I’m makin shit
up.
ALICE. What was the question?
(WEEZY keeps her attention focused on the
action but talks for the benefit of the audience.
She may rise from her chair and enter the
playing space or the audience space when it
suits her.)
WEEZY. (To the audience.) June likes to push.
JUNE. (To ALICE.) Do they all…have scars…like me?
WEEZY. (To the audience.) I used to think it was the PTSD
from her injuries, but then I remembered, nope, she’s
always been a bitch.
(The energy of the conversation now takes
on a more adversarial tone as JUNE begins to
“push.”)
JUNE. (To ALICE.) Hello?
ALICE. No and yes.
JUNE. Good answer, / duh.
ALICE. (Overlapping.) It’s not about the scars.
JUNE. You’re takin pictures of people with scars but it’s not
about the scars, what’s it about, then, Alice, tell me.
ALICE. (Pointedly.) I think it might be hard to tell you
anything.
(Beat.)
I dunno, fear?
JUNE. Rings a bell.
WEEZY. (Directed mostly at JUNE.) Fear of the unknown,
fear of self-discovery, fear of happiness, even.
ALICE. These women – some of / these women are –
JUNE. (Overlapping.) Why not men?
ALICE. (Overlapping – continuous.) …in a lot of pain
because – NO. Men? Why do people / always ask me
that?
16 ALABASTER

JUNE. (Overlapping.) WEEZY. (Overlapping.)

It’s whatever, do / your (To JUNE.) Let her talk!
thing.
ALICE. (Overlapping.) Can I finish?
(Pause.)
It’s not about the scars, / the scars are a way in.
JUNE. (Overlapping.) You’re gonna tell me / they’re
beautiful?
WEEZY. (Overlapping – exasperated, under her breath.) Oh
my God.
(ALICE waits for JUNE to settle.)
ALICE. They’re a way in.
JUNE. In.
ALICE. I want to be careful here because it’s not like I’m an
expert on scars or anything, but – what I’m learning
is…every scar, every woman, is different. Some women
are still in the early stages, others have…made peace?
I guess? (Softening.) With their physical worlds?
JUNE. And now you’re in it.
ALICE. I feel pretty lucky. Not everyone gets to do what I do.
JUNE. (Calculating.) Why the switch?
ALICE. Switch?
JUNE. From the celebrities.
ALICE. My assignment work, you mean?
JUNE. (Put off by the choice of words.) Assignment. Work.
JUNE. ALICE.
*
I’m not painting you in. Have you been reading
my diary?
ALICE. I needed a change.
JUNE. Just all of a sudden…
(Beat.)

* I’m not trying to paint you into a corner with your art; it’s your art,
your prerogative.
 ALABASTER 17

You spend just as much time with Demi Moore as

someone like me, what’s the difference, really?
ALICE. Is that a serious question? It’s more intimate,
obviously.
JUNE. Not obviously. I’ve seen your celebrity shots, those
are some scarred up motherfuckers.
ALICE. I can see I have to choose my words more carefully.
JUNE. Because you weren’t before?
ALICE. That’s not how I meant it.
JUNE. It’s how I meant it.
ALICE. I’m listening.
JUNE. Why…the switch?
ALICE. I told you, I needed a change.
JUNE. ALICE.
You needed a change And it was admittedly
because you needed a a pat response, but it’s
change? what people say in polite
company instead of the
alternative.
I’m not polite company. Which is the horrible
truth of their lives.
(Beat.)
ALICE. Is that OK? Is that OK, June? If I hang back on that
question. Until I know you? A little better?
(Beat.)
JUNE. (Bratty.) I think you would make a shitty weddin
planner.
WEEZY. (Disapprovingly – throwing popcorn at JUNE.)
Booooh!!!! Boooooooooh!!!
JUNE. (To WEEZY.) Would you – I got it!
ALICE. Got what?
JUNE. (To ALICE, self-correcting.) I’ve got…an apology.
WEEZY. (To JUNE.) Asshole.
ALICE. No. Actually, I’m sorry. Can we start over?
18 ALABASTER

JUNE. Sure.
ALICE. Great.
(WEEZY enters the bedroom area and uncovers
a pile of paintings as ALICE looks up and
around at the art in the room.)
I love all your pieces.
JUNE. Thanks.
ALICE. I haven’t had a good look, but I’d like to.
JUNE. Sure.
ALICE. (Positioning the camera.) Did I see Jim Sudduth over
there? You’re a collector, obviously. I collect a bit myself.
JUNE. Am I scar-ier than Hollywood?
(ALICE adjusts the light on JUNE. JUNE watches
her.)
ALICE. By an order of magnitude. But, I wouldn’t come all
this way just to cower in a corner.
JUNE. You can if you want to.
ALICE. I don’t want to.
JUNE. You don’t want to?
ALICE. (Pointedly.) I don’t want to.
(Another electric pause.)
You answered my ad.
JUNE. Oh, that was my neighbor, Peachy Sawgrass.
ALICE. JUNE.
Peachy Sawgrass. She told me – I know, it’s
a name – she told me you
were lookin for women.
ALICE. Ah. I guess you found it online?
JUNE. I don’t do online. I’m dumb and I have a dumb
phone and I like it that way.
ALICE. (Stunned.) Really?
JUNE. No shit.
ALICE. So…if you don’t do online, how did you find me?
JUNE. (“Duh.”) The library.
 ALABASTER 19

ALICE. Your local library has my books?

JUNE. Birmingham. I called Aggie Nolan at the Five Points
branch, she sends me stuff.
ALICE. You have your own personal librarian?
JUNE. She’s my cousin, she’s also a librarian, she told me
she saw your pictures one time at the Corcoran when
she went up there on a school trip to DC. She wanted
me to ask you why people in your pictures look so sad
all the time and then I looked at your pictures and I
saw it too. The sadness, I mean. Or maybe that’s new
information. To you?
(Beat.)
Are you gay?
WEEZY. (To JUNE.) OH MY GOD.
ALICE. You ask a lot of questions.
WEEZY. (To JUNE.) SERIOUSLY?
JUNE. Are you?
ALICE. Does it matter?
JUNE. No.
(Beat.)
Are you attracted to me?
(Pause.)
ALICE. No. No, I’m not attracted to you.
JUNE. Really?
ALICE. You’re not my type.
JUNE. WEEZY.
DAMN! Not. Your. NICE!
Type?!
Wow… (To JUNE.) You deserved
that one.
(Mostly to WEEZY.) She’s just tryin to do her
Whatever. job, June. Would you
relax?
20 ALABASTER

JUNE. (Bratty. Half to WEEZY, half to ALICE.) Assignments

and clients and jobs. Oh, my.
ALICE. You’re pretty impossible.
JUNE. So many words.
ALICE. Maybe we should stay focused on the work.
JUNE. Yeah, OK.
ALICE. Are you ready?
JUNE. Born ready.
(ALICE sits in a chair next to the video camera
and pulls out a note pad and a pen. Despite
all of JUNE’s bravado, she now becomes visibly
nervous, as one would at a dentist’s office
when implements of torture become visible to
the patient.)
ALICE. OK. So, these questions…just say skip, OK, if you
can’t or don’t want to answer.
JUNE. Skip?
ALICE. Yeah. Ya know, like if I ask you –
JUNE. NEXT QUESTION!
(Beat.)
My head pops off from time to time, just to warn ya.
(JUNE turns to see WEEZY amused but shaking
her head with disappointment. She sticks her
tongue out at WEEZY.)
(ALICE smiles at JUNE who takes a big breath.
ALICE follows with a big breath. WEEZY, not
wanting to be rude, takes a reluctant breath.
BIB, still snoozing, takes a sleepy staccato-
style catch-up breath and then exhales softly.)
ALICE. You’re very brave, sitting there. OK…just so you
know the order, I’m going to ask about the scars first so
I can get the video. We’ll do the photographs separately
when we get the light.
JUNE. Fine.
 ALABASTER 21

(ALICE turns on the video camera. JUNE

nervously mugs for the camera.)
I don’t know why I did that, there’s nobody in there.
(ALICE turns on her little handheld voice
recorder. She looks up to see that JUNE has
lowered her robe. JUNE’s arms, shoulders,
chest, and torso are visible now, and covered
with scars.)
(Beat.)
ALICE. Oh. No. I’m only recording from the / shoulders up.
You can…
(Beat.)
JUNE. Why am I so quick to take my clothes off, Alice? That
is somethin I should explore.
(Pause.)
ALICE. Are you more comfortable with your clothes off?
JUNE. WEEZY.
That is… YES.
Yes. Yes, I am.
ALICE. Well, it certainly doesn’t bother me, whatever makes
you happy.
(JUNE opens her mouth to make a comment.)
WEEZY. (Not amused.) GIRL, GET DRESSED!
(JUNE rolls her eyes at WEEZY and then, just to
fuck with her, she slowly pulls her robe back
up over her shoulders and ties it closed.)
ALICE. This is June.
JUNE. (Tentatively. Leaning into the microphone.) Hello.
ALICE. It’s July 12, 2019, and we’re just outside Alabaster,
Alabama.
JUNE. Lord, that’s almost my gravestone.
ALICE. So, how long have you lived here, June?
JUNE. All my life. Which is forever, seems like forever.
22 ALABASTER

ALICE. You like living here?

JUNE. I like the farm.
ALICE. The farm.
JUNE. I don’t get out much.
ALICE. Why’s that?
JUNE. WEEZY.
Issues. Issues.
ALICE. Issues. Anything / interesting?
JUNE. (Overlapping.) Next.
ALICE. Got it. So, what do you do for a living?
JUNE. That’s a stupid question.
ALICE. I’m sorry?
JUNE. No, I get it. I get it. It’s a progression.
(Beat.)
I take care of the farm. Feed the goats. Whatever needs
doin. I don’t really need a whole lot…
ALICE. Are you –
JUNE. (Continuous.) actually…
(A sort of fog washes over JUNE. She looks to
WEEZY for support. WEEZY returns a steady
gaze. In moments like these, WEEZY acts as a
sort of emotional support animal for JUNE;
she often “clocks” JUNE’s PTSD triggers long
before JUNE does.)
ALICE. (Tentatively.) So…you’re happy?
(Beat.)
Last week, when we spoke on the phone, you were
telling me about the accident.
JUNE. (To ALICE – still looking at WEEZY.) Accident?
WEEZY. (To JUNE – “Relax, it’s just a word.”) Accident.
JUNE. (To ALICE – still looking at WEEZY.) When you say
accident, I think maybe we’re talkin about a fender
bender on the bypass.
ALICE. I’m so sorry. I was just trying to be sensitive.
 ALABASTER 23

JUNE. (To ALICE – still looking at WEEZY.) Could you not,

you’re creepin me out.
(JUNE now turns her focus back to ALICE.)
(Softening.) Sorry. We don’t have to dance around it.
ALICE. OK.
(Beat.)
There was a storm?
(The video camera beeps. JUNE startles.)
JUNE. (Very unsettled now.) You could say that.
(The beeping continues. ALICE becomes
momentarily distracted trying to silence the
noise.)
WEEZY. (To JUNE.) Breathe.
(The beeping continues. JUNE hears more than
the beeping. In her head she can see the color
red flashing on and off and hear the sound
of something like a loud FACTORY ALARM.
The audience sees and hears whatever JUNE
does. ALICE hears only the beeping of the
camera.)
ALICE. (Oblivious to JUNE’s agitated state.) And you were
here, right? On the farm?
(The beeping continues. JUNE’s heart is
pounding. ALICE struggles with the camera.)
Shit. It’s not stopping!
(The beeping stops. The alarm in JUNE’s
head is replaced with the sound of a LOW
MENACING HUM or GL ASS SLOWLY
SCRAPING AGAINST HARD WOOD
FLOOR.)
Oh, there we go. God. I hate that thing.
(ALICE collects herself and turns her focus
back to JUNE.)
24 ALABASTER

So sorry. OK. Umm…right. You lost your family? They

were…crushed?
(JUNE is now experiencing a full-blown
PTSD episode. We now hear the sound of a
low menacing hum or glass slowly scraping
against a hard wood floor. This continues
during the following.)
JUNE. (Cold as ice. She speaks calmly, but her rage and
anger fuel the onslaught.) You need to trust me, don’t
you?
WEEZY. (To JUNE, preemptively.) OK.
ALICE. (To JUNE.) What?
JUNE. You need to trust me…
WEEZY. (Overlapping.) She’s just tryin to do her job, June.
JUNE. (Continuous.) …because you want your story to
be accurate because it’s just too hard to believe / or
whatever
WEEZY. (Overlapping.) Why do you have to be such a ball-
buster / all the time,
JUNE. (Overlapping – continuous.) but I could be unstable,
right, I could just be some redneck meth head, / for all
you know,
WEEZY. (Overlapping – continuous.) just let her do her /
job.
JUNE. (Overlapping – continuous.) lookin for my payday,
my fifteen minutes, and embarrass the / hell outta you
WEEZY. (Overlapping.) Let. Her do. / Her job!
JUNE. (Overlapping – continuous.) like that lyin shitball
did to Oprah Winfrey.
ALICE. A Million Little / Pieces…
JUNE. (Overlapping.) A million little SHITBALL pieces.
ALICE. June. I came a long way to be here today and I’m
sitting here with you now and there are scars all over
your body, every part…of your body. I just want to
know what happened.
 ALABASTER 25

JUNE. For your coffee table book, fancy New York friends.
ALICE. You know, June, I have scars too.
JUNE. That’s hot. Are we in a club now?
ALICE. I’m on your side.
JUNE. (Nauseated by the syllables.) On – your – side? Who
the fuck are you, Jerry Lewis?
(Begin rapid fire.)
WEEZY. She could go,
JUNE. Are you Alice, are you?
WEEZY. you could just ask her to go.
JUNE. If you were passin through this shit town on your
way to sunny Orlando and you saw me sittin on a bench
outside of Golden Corral, and you wanted to take my
picture.
WEEZY. Or just let her sit here.
JUNE. WEEZY.
Would you ask my name
and buy me a coffee, In your creepy bedroom.
or is that just too much And get eaten alive,
Slowly and painfully.
of a CHORE? BY A WEIRDO!
JUNE. On your side. You know somethin, I was valedictorian
of my high school class, you believe that? That’s all
right though, just sit there…with your / assumptions.
WEEZY. (Overlapping – to JUNE – exasperated now.) OK.
OK!
JUNE. (To WEEZY.) No. No. NOT OK.
ALICE. “My” assumptions?
JUNE. (To ALICE.) Maybe you should go. If you know where
you’re goin. Do you know?
ALICE. (Overlapping.) So lost. / Sooo lost.
JUNE. Where you’re / goin? To?
WEEZY. (Overlapping – to JUNE.) June. JUNE! KNOCK IT
OFF!!!!!
26 ALABASTER

(End rapid fire.)

(JUNE startles, as if waking up from a
nightmare. The red lights and the noises in
her head finally quiet. She glares at WEEZY.
She looks at ALICE, horrified and confused at
her own behavior.)
JUNE. I – I am so sorry. Did I – can we – can we just…
umm…slow down for a minute?
ALICE. Absolutely. Yes. Yes.
JUNE. OK…
(ALICE’s phone rings again with the same
VERY UNPLEASANT RINGTONE.)
ALICE. Fuck! Fucking phone.
JUNE. (Dryly.) What if like you changed it to somethin
from Sound of Music, could that be a thing?
ALICE. I’m sorry.
(ALICE swipes at the phone and dismisses the
call.)
JUNE. (A realization.) Oh my God.
(Half to ALICE, half to WEEZY.)
This is just like Bridges of Madison County.
WEEZY. (Dryly – to JUNE.) It’s not like Bridges of Madison
County.
(Begin rapid fire.)
JUNE. (To WEEZY.) It is.
WEEZY. (To JUNE.) No it’s not.
JUNE. (To WEEZY.) Yes it is.
WEEZY. (To JUNE.) No it’s not.
JUNE. (To WEEZY.) Yes it fuckin is!
(To ALICE.) You’re Clint Eastwood.
WEEZY. (Hissing.) NO! She’s not!
JUNE. (To ALICE.) Are we gonna sleep together?
(End rapid fire. Beat.)
 ALABASTER 27

ALICE. (Coldly.) It’s not a coffee table book. Also, you don’t
know my life.
(Pause. JUNE makes an attempt at an apology
but is still very confused about how she
slipped into such a rage.)
JUNE. I’m sorry / I don’t know what…
WEEZY. (Overlapping – to JUNE.) The camera was beepin.
(JUNE turns to look at WEEZY.)
(Repeating.) The camera…was beepin.
JUNE. What – oh! Yeah! It was beepin!
(To ALICE.) The camera was beepin.
(Reacting to ALICE’s puzzled look.) The camera was
beepin and I…
(JUNE taps a bit on her head to indicate her
PTSD.)
ALICE. (Slowly – a realization.) Oh! Oh…and I – oh, I’m
sorry. I’m so sorry, it was beeping and I got distracted.
Shit. I’m sorry, June.
JUNE. No, ya know what, you’re here, and you’re great, and
I have a lot of…
WEEZY. Blockers.
JUNE. Blockers (“issues”). So. You’re great…you’re –
(JUNE looks at ALICE with the ache of a
thousand years. Pause.)
ALICE. (Tenderly.) June…
JUNE. Alice…
ALICE. (Tenderly.) It’s OK, you know?
JUNE. What?
ALICE. To…be direct and ask…for the things you want.
JUNE. Right. What do I want?
ALICE. Intimacy? Guessing.
JUNE. Intimacy…
(JUNE thinks about the word for a moment.
She works through the puzzle…)
28 ALABASTER

(Processing out loud.)

Right, right. I answered your ad… Oh, wow. I [think I]
know why I did that. It’s what you’re sayin but I didn’t
see it and now I see it.
(Looking up at ALICE.)
I wanted you here.
ALICE. Me, specifically?
JUNE. It was somethin about your pictures. The sadness.
You know that thing when you feel somebody so close
and you don’t even know ’em, but it’s there, that feelin
– that’s probably what they call stalkin – but ya know
what I mean? And you made it easy, you came to me,
I didn’t even have to stand outside your house or even
dig in your dumpster.
(JUNE looks at ALICE intently. ALICE does not
flinch.)
How on Earth are you gonna deal with me?
ALICE. Riot gear comes to mind.
JUNE. But I’m cute, right?
(An electric pause. JUNE keeps her eyes locked
on ALICE as she comments on the camera.)
That camera is just rollin and rollin huh?
(ALICE, with her eyes fixed on JUNE, turns off
the video camera.)
ALICE. I wasn’t trying to avoid you before.
JUNE. Before?
ALICE. Yeah, you asked me a question, / and I didn’t –
JUNE. (Overlapping – remembering.) Oh, yeah. Keepin a
safe distance.
ALICE. That sounds horrible. It’s, umm…it’s just really
REALLY important that I don’t get too close.
JUNE. What happens if you get too close, Alice?
(Suggestively.) Is that a thing?
ALICE. I wasn’t specifically talking about sex.
 ALABASTER 29

JUNE. (Amused.) Oh, you thought I was talkin about sex?

ALICE. Weren’t you?
WEEZY. YES.
(Beat.)
ALICE. No, I’ve never done that.
JUNE. What, you mean crossed a line with a client? Well
that makes two of us.
(Pointedly.) We can just not-do-that together.
ALICE. (Amused.) You do like to push.
(WEEZY stares at JUNE, “told ya so.”)
JUNE. (To WEEZY.) Shut up. (To ALICE.) Are you gonna take
my picture?
(ALICE looks around and determines the
natural light in the room is just perfect for
photographs.)
ALICE. Actually. Yeah, let’s do that.
(During the following, ALICE rearranges
equipment and small furnishings. She takes
a few test shots, using her light meter to
adjust the exposure on her camera. Again,
JUNE becomes somewhat nervous at the sight
of the camera equipment. She suggests a word
game – a sort of “Twenty Questions” – to take
her mind off of it.)
JUNE. (Nervously.) Tell me things.
ALICE. Things.
JUNE. Yeah, but not like stupid things, let’s…let’s, umm, let’s
do that thing, like a game, OK, like I’ll say somethin
and then you say somethin.
ALICE. (Making an allusion to their “how do you define
dangerous” conversation from before.) This sounds
dangerous.
JUNE. It is, yes, and no follow-ups.
ALICE. No follow-ups.
30 ALABASTER

JUNE. Right. Like, OK… I’ll just go. Umm…butter pecan.

That is technically a stupid thing, but it’s ice cream and
therefore, it is deadly serious.
ALICE. I – mint chocolate chip?
JUNE. Big guns! OK. OK. (Thinking of a hard question.)
Mary Ann or Ginger?
ALICE. (Unflinching.) Mary Ann, all day.
(Beat.)
JUNE. I really thought that would be a hard question.
ALICE. It’s not a hard question.
(Long pause. Begin rapid fire.)
JUNE. (Off ALICE’s look.) Oh! It’s me now?
ALICE. Your rule.
JUNE. What?
ALICE. Mary Ann or Ginger?
JUNE. Never thought / about it.
WEEZY. (To JUNE.) Ginger.
ALICE. (To JUNE.) You lie!
JUNE. (To ALICE.) Well, I’ve – I mean Tom Selleck or Brad
Pitt, ya know, but this is way different.
ALICE. But it’s not.
JUNE. It is.
WEEZY. (To JUNE.) Ginger.
ALICE. (To JUNE.) It’s not.
JUNE. It is.
ALICE. Who would you rather?
JUNE. No follow-ups!
WEEZY. (To JUNE.) Just answer the question!
ALICE. (To JUNE.) There’s nothin to follow, you haven’t even
answered the question.
JUNE. Fuck it, I don’t / know.
WEEZY. (Overlapping, calling to JUNE – as if watching an
easy sports play about to go horribly wrong.) GINGER,
OH MY GOD, GINGER!
 ALABASTER 31

JUNE. I’ve never been with a girl, how would I –

ALICE. (Overlapping – flatly.) You’re picturing it right /
now, aren’t you?
WEEZY. (Overlapping.) GINGERRRRRRRR!
JUNE. (Overlapping.) Ginger. Fuckin Ginger. She’s tall, she
could like do things.
ALICE. Fuck yeah.
JUNE. (To both ALICE and WEEZY.) Happy now?
(End rapid fire. ALICE walks over to JUNE and
asks permission to drape her robe a certain
way, exposing her arms and shoulders. She
adjusts JUNE’s position on the bed.)
ALICE. Can you push back a little. There. OK. Drop your
shoulders. Great.
(ALICE takes a picture. Note to sound designer:
We may hear a sound every time she takes
a picture, but it needn’t be a “camera click”
sound per se.)
JUNE. New topic. OK. So, Survivor calls and you’re
dropped / on a deserted island.
ALICE. (Overlapping.) Survivor?
(Positioning JUNE.)
Chin down.
(Another picture.)
JUNE. The TV show Survivor calls and you’re dropped on a
deserted island.
ALICE. OK.
JUNE. What is your one luxury item?
ALICE. Food truck.
JUNE. (Suddenly highly aroused.) Shit. Food truck’s not
fuckin around.
ALICE. Nope.
32 ALABASTER

JUNE. (Mesmerized by the idea.) What kinda food truck?

ALICE. Korean BBQ.
JUNE. Why?
ALICE. Because I love Korean food and I love BBQ.
JUNE. OutSTANDING.
ALICE. Chin down again. Great.
(A picture.)
JUNE. Hmm.
ALICE. What about you?
JUNE. Probably a sleepin bag. Wait, I’m on TV? OK,
eyeliner. Chapstick.
ALICE. Just one.
JUNE. What – you brought a whole food truck!
ALICE. Still just one thing.
JUNE. I don’t think that’s true.
(A picture. ALICE positions JUNE again.
Exposing her legs this time.)
ALICE. Just turn slightly. Yeah. Head back. Can you wrap
your arms – great, great.
(A picture.)
You’re allowed one thing.
JUNE. Fine. A makeup bag. Filled with eyeliner, chapstick.
Whatever else I can fit in there, tacos, maybe, or taco
salad, and one of those spoon-fork things.
WEEZY. Spork.
ALICE. Spork?
JUNE. Spork, hot sauce.
ALICE. There’s no way you’re gonna get away with that.
JUNE. We’ll see.
(A picture. JUNE thinks of another question
while absently humming a tune…)
ALICE. Least favorite subject?
JUNE. Chemistry.
 ALABASTER 33

ALICE. PE.
JUNE. (Words tumbling.) Can I change my answer, PE, then
chemistry, daddy was a deacon.
ALICE. Photographer.
JUNE. Mama was crazy.
(A picture. Begin rapid fire.)
ALICE. Mine’s dead.
JUNE. Switch.
ALICE. I’m an only child.
JUNE. Ditto.
ALICE. I want a house full of kids.
JUNE. Ditto!
ALICE. Three boys, three girls.
JUNE. Brady Bunch! Fuck, that’s like a warehouse, sorry, no
follow-ups.
(Beat.)
SIX KIDS?!
(End rapid fire. Beat.)
ALICE. My life is a tragedy.
(Beat.)
JUNE. (Softly.) Ditto…
(A picture. ALICE turns JUNE around on the
bed to face the wall. She lowers JUNE’s robe
down to her waist, exposing the signs of
severe trauma: her entire back is a tangled
mass of gashes, abrasions, puncture wounds,
and surgical scars.)
(Silence.)
ALICE. (Visibly shaken.) Shoulders…back.
JUNE. (Brightly.) Everything OK back there?
ALICE. It’s going well, we’re almost done.
JUNE. Good. You have a girl? Waitin at home.
34 ALABASTER

ALICE. No.
JUNE. No?
ALICE. Not anymore.
JUNE. Where is she?
ALICE. She died.
(Positioning JUNE.)
Chin up. A little more. Good.
(A picture.)
JUNE. How?
ALICE. Car accident.
(A picture.)
JUNE. When?
ALICE. Eleven months ago.
JUNE. Wait, what?
(A picture.)
ALICE. She rented a car to drive to Vermont for a wedding.
JUNE. Whose weddin?
ALICE. Her mother’s.
(A picture.)
JUNE. Her mother’s weddin?
(Beat.)
She never made it?
ALICE. Somewhere in the mountains. There was a truck.
JUNE. A truck.
ALICE. Well…it’s sketchy.
JUNE. No witnesses…
ALICE. Right, no witnesses. She, uh…she was four months
pregnant. With our baby.
(Positioning JUNE.)
Chin left. And your left shoulder up just – yes. Love
that.
 ALABASTER 35

(A picture.)
JUNE. (Tenderly.) I’m so sorry, Alice.
ALICE. (Lost in her own pain now.) OK. I think we’re done.
( JUNE pulls her robe back up over her
shoulders. She turns to look at ALICE who is
now scrolling through the pictures in the
viewfinder of her camera.)
JUNE. I ask a lotta questions. You OK?
(ALICE nods.)
You’re not OK. You don’t have to – I’m sorry, I shoulda –
ALICE. (Overlapping.) It hurts. Some days…
(Beat.)
She didn’t die right away. So that’s obviously kind of
fucked up. To think about.
JUNE. Come here.
ALICE. I’m better now.
JUNE. How do you figure?
ALICE. Well, I’m here now. So.
(ALICE begins putting away her equipment.)
JUNE. OK. Where were you yesterday?
(Begin rapid fire.)
ALICE. In Savannah taking a picture.
JUNE. And before that?
ALICE. Charlotte. Roanoke. Virginia Beach.
JUNE. And before that?
ALICE. Allentown. Pittsburgh. These are really personal
questions.
JUNE. (Overlapping.) And before that?
ALICE. Living with a friend.
JUNE. And before that?
ALICE. (Words tumbling.) Let me think – what was it – oh
yeah – spa vacation out in Montauk.
36 ALABASTER

(Beat.)
JUNE. Rehab. Nice.
(Beat.)
And before that?
ALICE. Stuffing my shit into storage. Out-of-control couch
surfing.
JUNE. And before that?
ALICE. Just regular couch surfing.
JUNE. ALICE.
And before that? You ask the best
questions. On
assignment.
JUNE. Where?
ALICE. Madison Square Garden.
JUNE. Takin a picture?
ALICE. Evidently.
JUNE. Who was it?
ALICE. Doesn’t matter.
JUNE. Madonna?
ALICE. Can’t say.
JUNE. Lady Gaga. Justin Beiber.
(Beat.)
JUSTIN BEIBER???
(BIB rouses out of a dead sleep at the prospect
of seeing Justin Bieber. WEEZY uncovers a
painting of a cat.)
(ALICE now notices the cat painting.)
ALICE. (Distractedly.) I blacked out half way through.
(ALICE picks up the cat painting, struck by its
profound singularity.)
JUNE. Shit.
ALICE. (Half-distracted with the painting.) And before
that?
 ALABASTER 37

(Beat.)
Burying my daughter in Burlington…
JUNE. God…
(ALICE looks around at the other art in the
room as if deciphering a puzzle.)
ALICE. Where did you get all this?
JUNE. Alice?
ALICE. There’s so much of it.
JUNE. Around. Alice?
ALICE. It’s crazy good.
(Beat.)
There’s something…
(ALICE notices another painting in the corner
of the room. She moves a few boxes to get a
better look.)
Wait, this doesn’t –
JUNE. Doesn’t what?
(ALICE looks at JUNE. Beat.)
ALICE. Show me your hands.
(Beat.)
Would you hold them up?
(JUNE holds up her hands. They are covered
in dye and paint.)
Oh, my God. How did I not –
(Beat.)
This is you?
JUNE. Sure.
ALICE. Are you –
(ALICE picks up the painting.)
But this isn’t, I mean, this is – this is Jimmy Lee
Sudduth…
JUNE. Who?
38 ALABASTER

ALICE. (Looking for a signature.) He’s an Alabama…

(During the following, JUNE changes out of
her robe and into regular clothes.)
(Dumbfounded.)
You painted this?
JUNE. Did I say that?
(Beat.)
What are you askin me, what the fuck?
(Beat.)
What?!
ALICE. (Referencing all of the art in the room.) This is all
you?
JUNE. Well, who else would it be, will you sit down, you’re
makin me nervous.
ALICE. No, I’m not going to be sitting down, June, you need
representation. Have you really never been contacted
by a curator or a collector?
JUNE. I sold a paintin to The Big Crab Shack in Birmingham
once.
ALICE. Is that a gallery?
JUNE. It’s a CRAB SHACK, there’s no mystery, it’s a crab
shack!
WEEZY. (To JUNE – a warning.) OK.
JUNE. (Annoyed.) OK, Weezy! OK.
ALICE. Who’s Weezy?
JUNE. I talk to goats.
ALICE. (Playing along.) Who doesn’t?
(“What the fuck?”)
What?
JUNE. It’s a thing I do.
ALICE. Talk to goats?
(Beat.)
And they talk back?
 ALABASTER 39

JUNE. Just Weezy.

ALICE. Just Weezy…
JUNE. Oh, I’m crazy.
WEEZY. (To JUNE.) She needed that out loud.
JUNE. (To WEEZY.) Outhouse rat, right Weezy?
ALICE. OK, who’s Weezy?
WEEZY. (To ALICE.) I’m a goat.
JUNE. Did you hear that?
ALICE. Hear what?
JUNE. She’s a goat.
ALICE. OK.
JUNE. (A warning.) You start hearin goats…
(Off ALICE’s look.)
Let’s just hope you don’t.
ALICE. Are they like…friendly goats?
JUNE. Nope.
(Beat.)
(Begin rapid fire.)
WEEZY. (To JUNE.) I’m friendly!
JUNE. (To WEEZY.) No you’re not!
WEEZY. I’m friendly!
JUNE. You are deluded!
WEEZY. What the / fuck?
JUNE. (Overlapping – continuous.) Which is not anywhere
/ near the same thing as friendly. Not. Friendly.
WEEZY. (Overlapping.) I’m FUCKING FRIENDLY! I’m
friendly as a motherfucker.
(End rapid fire.)
JUNE. (To ALICE.) She’s a friendly goat, just ask her.
ALICE. Where is she?
JUNE. Outside. Eatin up all my okra.
WEEZY. (To JUNE.) I’m not eatin your / okra!
40 ALABASTER

JUNE. (Overlapping. To WEEZY.) You think I don’t know

who’s eatin my okra?
WEEZY. It’s the deer!
JUNE. (To WEEZY.) It’s not the deer.
JUNE. WEEZY.
(To ALICE.) It’s not the (To JUNE.) It’s the fuckin
deer. deer.
WEEZY. (To JUNE.) It fuckin is.
JUNE. (Mouthing the words to ALICE.) It’s not.
(Beat.)
Why are you still standin there holdin my picture?
ALICE. You need an agent. If you want your work out there,
that’s kind of how it is.
JUNE. (Words tumbling.) How it is – I’ve never accepted a
human construct as how it is – it’s not like gravity –
gravity is how it is.
ALICE. You’re right, you’re right. That’s absolutely one way
to go with it, we can get you a tour.
(ALICE picks up another painting.)
Jesus…the color.
JUNE. (Increasingly irritated.) Could you put that down
please.
ALICE. (Earnestly.) Oh, I’m so sorry. Of course.
JUNE. I don’t give a fuck, wear it on your head, you’re not
listenin. It’s not for sale.
JUNE. (Continuous.) ALICE.
I’m not for sale. The –
I don’t need anybody to How do you –
come in here and tell me
it’s art, I know it’s art.
ALICE. It is.
JUNE. Thank you, I know that.
(WEEZY, now fed up with JUNE’s bullshit, is
heard speaking in “goat” and making a loud
racket outside JUNE’s window.)
 ALABASTER 41

WEEZY. Maaaaah!!! Maaaaah!!!

ALICE. (Bewildered.) Goats?
(WEEZY peeks her head inside the window.
JUNE is not amused.)
JUNE. (To WEEZY.) Really, Weezy? Really?
WEEZY. (Overlapping.) Maaaaah!!!
JUNE. (Overlapping.) Exhibit A. This isn’t friendly, this
is hostile and it’s rude and you knew we were talkin,
which makes you an ASS; where’s Bib?
WEEZY. MAAAAAAAAH!
( ALICE stands there stunned at the
proceedings.)
ALICE. What is she saying?
JUNE. (Retrieving kibble from a nearby treat bucket.) She’s
talkin in goat, I have no fuckin idea.
WEEZY. (Overlapping.) ALICE.
MAAAAAAAAH! Am I on Mars?
JUNE. (Overlapping.) Time to feed the goats.
(JUNE hands a handful of kibble to ALICE to
disperse. ALICE steps tentatively toward the
window. WEEZY bumps at window frame
from the outside.)
WEEZY. MAAAAAAAAH!
ALICE. Jesus!
WEEZY. (Innocently.) Maaaah… Maaaah.
ALICE. Aww…look at her eyes. She’s cute.
JUNE. (To ALICE.) She’s fat.
WEEZY. (To JUNE.) YOU’RE FAT!
(Innocently – to ALICE.) Maaaah… Maaaah
ALICE. (A greeting.) Weezy…
(Beat.)
Hello, Weezy.
(ALICE holds out a handful of kibble.)
42 ALABASTER

JUNE. Don’t be scared. Don’t be scared, just throw it at

her, just – NOT LIKE THAT, SHE’LL RIP / YOUR
FUCKIN ARM OFF!
WEEZY. (Overlapping – to ALICE, half roar, half “bah.”)
RAAAAAAH!!!!!!!!!!
(ALICE jumps backward, dropping the kibble
out the window.)
ALICE. Fuuuuuuuck!!!
(JUNE and WEEZY have a good laugh and
high-five.)
JUNE. WEEZY.
Got us another one, BaaaaaaaaaaaHaHaHa
Weezy!!! HaHaHaHa!
( BIB has slowly made her way over to
the window now. Meanwhile, WEEZY has
gathered up all the treats and is eating them
one by one, with no intention of sharing.)
BIB. Maaah. Maaah.
JUNE. (Sweetly.) There’s Miss Bib. Hey, Mama.
(Regarding the kibble.)
Your treat’s over there, go get it. Go, get it, woman.
(To ALICE.) Aww, this might be one of her bad days.
(Tenderly, to BIB.) Get your treat, you remember treats?
Weezy’s got your treat, Bib, you gon take that shit from
her?
BIB. Maaah.
JUNE. Oh, Mama. Come here. Here, just take this one.
BIB. Maaah.
(BIB takes a treat from JUNE but then drops it
on the ground.)
JUNE. Oh, you’re not hungry, Mama? Come here.
(JUNE pets BIB’s head and looks into her eyes.)
I know you’re tired girl. I am too. I. Am. Too.
 ALABASTER 43

(WEEZY steals the treat intended for BIB.)

WEEZY. (“Nanny nanny boo boo.”) Meh eh eh eh ehhh eh.
JUNE. (To WEEZY.) Weezy, get back!
(To BIB.) Bib, you need to kick her ass. I know you
could! I know you could. Who’s my Steve Austin?
Who’s my Stone Cold Steve Austin?!
(BIB turns to WEEZY and roars…)
BIB. (To WEEZY.) MAAAAHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!
JUNE. Truth hurts, Weezy!
BIB. (To WEEZY.) MAAAAHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!
JUNE. (Overlapping.) Hell yeah!
(To BIB.) I am so proud of you, you want me to come
out there? Lemme come out there.
(JUNE turns to exit.)
(To ALICE.) You’re stayin for supper!
(JUNE exits.)
(Calling from off.)
Come on, Alice!
(ALICE begins changing the lens on her
camera.)
(ALICE’s muffled phone rings inside her bag,
playing the same VERY UNPLEASANT
RINGTONE.)
(ALICE dismisses the call and puts the cell
phone in her pcoket.)
WEEZY. (To ALICE. Instructing.) Nope.
(Without skipping a beat, ALICE takes the
phone back out of her pocket and returns it to
her backpack.)
(She exits.)
44 ALABASTER

Scene Two

(As before. Early evening. WEEZY looks on as

BIB sleeps next to her on the pallet. ALICE looks
through JUNE’s paintings. JUNE eats grapes
from a colander and fiddles with ALICE’s
camera.)
JUNE. This isn’t like any camera I remember.
ALICE. (Demonstrating.) It’s like this.
JUNE. Oh, the button, got it, got it.
(JUNE scrolls through the photographs on
ALICE’s camera. Projection: The set becomes a
living canvas. Image fragments, color, light,
and texture, now filter in and out.)
Oh, you got ’em both together, Bib’s like, “What are you
doin, weird new person?” Oh, look what you did, how
do you do that? Even Weezy has that sad look, but not
sad sad, more like, “I’ve seen things.”
(Another photograph.)
Oh, there’s another one, look at that, you should be a
photographer.
(Another photograph.)
And Bib, look how cute, with her sneaky side eye, I love
that. These are so good, Alice.
(JUNE continues to scroll through photos.)
(She freezes.)
(ALICE walks over to the bed and looks at the
viewfinder to see what JUNE is staring at.)
ALICE. Daniela.
JUNE. Cancer?
ALICE. She chose not to have the reconstruction.
JUNE. Badass…
ALICE. Stage four. She won’t live to see the book.
 ALABASTER 45

(JUNE scrolls. Another woman.)

Eve.
JUNE. Oh, my God…
ALICE. She was scalded as an infant. Her brother was
supposed to give her a bath, but he forgot to check the
water.
JUNE. How old was she?
ALICE. Ten months.
(JUNE scrolls. Another woman.)
(Off JUNE’s reaction.) Yeah…
(Beat.)
Nadja*.
JUNE. Nadja…
ALICE. Her husband threw acid in her face.
(JUNE scrolls through the pictures of Nadja.)
Pakistan. Her whole family shunned her. So she got
out, escaped across the border. Got asylum.
JUNE. Asylum.
ALICE. She lives in Jersey now with her cousin.
(ALICE pulls a book out of her backpack
entitled Breathe and hands it to JUNE.)
I met her when I was in rehab. She’s teaching people
how to stop crying.
(JUNE takes the book and reads the back
cover.)
JUNE. How’s that goin?
ALICE. I talked to her after the meeting. Told her about
Chrissy. She knew the things to say.
JUNE. Chrissy…
(Beat.)
Y’all were together a long time?

* Pronounced “na-ja.”
46 ALABASTER

(ALICE nods.)
ALICE. Her parents were devastated. My dad…not so much.
JUNE. They didn’t get along?
ALICE. “Dodged a bullet there, thank God the baby died
with her.”
JUNE. Oh, my God.
ALICE. “Why would you want to waste money on a second
coffin, just bury them together.”
(Beat.)
He doesn’t want to actually see me. He just wants to
see himself and his grand design staring back at him.
JUNE. I mean – it’s not for me to say, but I would have kept
them together.
ALICE. I did. But that’s not the point.
JUNE. What is the point, that he has opinions? He’s your
daddy, he calls you, what, three times a day? He’s tryin.
ALICE. He thinks I’ve gone crazy.
JUNE. How?
ALICE. Everything I’ve ever done has been tied to the
family brand, I’m like the Anne Geddes of Hollywood
cokeheads. You do one thing different and everyone
freaks the fuck out.
JUNE. But you’re doin this now.
ALICE. Yeah.
JUNE. It matters. Alice.
ALICE. Yeah.
JUNE. So tell him that.
(Beat.)
Do you miss him?
(Beat.)
So pick up the phone.
ALICE. I can’t.
JUNE. Why not?
 ALABASTER 47

ALICE. It’s too hard.

JUNE. Harder than death?
(Beat.)
You lost a whole family.
ALICE. Question.
JUNE. Go.
ALICE. If someone said to you, “I have this magic memory-
erasing pill, it can take back the part about your unborn
baby, just one little pill and it will all go away,” would
you do it?
JUNE. No.
ALICE. Why not?
JUNE. Because I would want it to hurt.
(Beat.)
You’re supposed to hurt when you lose a child.
ALICE. Yeah, but…your brain would never know that you
knew, it wouldn’t know that you wanted to erase that
memory, it wouldn’t know anything, the memory
would be gone.
JUNE. True. And… I still wouldn’t want to be the kind of
person that would say yes to an offer like that. It’s my
child.
(Beat.)
Where do these people, like – like these idiots who try
to talk to women after they miscarry, “Well, at least you
can try again,” like sayin, “It’s not like you actually knew
him or anything,” FUCK YOU, that’s my child! Takin a
pill…it would be like killin him all over again. Or worse
than death, to be forgotten.
(Beat.)
I’ll keep my memories, thank you very much.
(Pause.)
Question?
ALICE. Go.
48 ALABASTER

JUNE. So – why, after all that, would you –

WEEZY. (Mostly to JUNE.) “Why” is such a useless question.
JUNE. Why not landscapes? Polar bears?
WEEZY. (Mostly to JUNE.) What you’re really askin is…
JUNE. WEEZY.
(To ALICE.) (To ALICE – continuous.)
How bad did it get? “How bad did it get?”
(WEEZY has now entered ALICE’s orbit. She
addresses nearly all her comments to ALICE
and JUNE, with an occasional line tossed in
the direction of the audience (note: this is
not a “Ted Talk” – it should not, in any way,
sound like a lecture or a morality tale.)
(WEEZY stays close. ALICE, still unable to
actually hear WEEZY, may now begin to
notice a gentle disturbance in “The Force,” but
pushes through…)
ALICE. I didn’t work for a long time after the accident.
WEEZY. Like a really long time.
ALICE. I just couldn’t get my footing.
WEEZY. Two bottles a day.
ALICE. And then there was rehab.
WEEZY. Three failed rehabs. Two DUIs and a night in the
county jail.
ALICE. I lost a few days.
WEEZY. But the mug shot was amaaaaazing, am I right?
(ALICE recalls the mug shot (it really was
amazing). She tries to shake it off.)
Selective editing. Because art, because shame, because
dissonance, because romanticizin the pain, because if
I give you the full crazy you will run very, very fast in all
of the opposite directions.
(Beat.)
What we leave out.
 ALABASTER 49

ALICE. And then…

WEEZY. What we leave in…
ALICE. (As if drawing a breath of fresh air.) I met Nadja.
And she invited me over for lunch. And I told her all
about Chrissy and the baby and my stupid dad. And
she just kept pouring the tea. She was wearing this
gorgeous copper sari…and I’m sitting across from this
creature and this feast she called lunch. The life from
this woman, the heat from her heart was like the pull
of gravity. It was like, I wanted to know her pain. To
mix it in with mine. To tell her how grateful I was that
she…
(Beat.)
We sat there in the quiet. And she put her hand on
mine and asked me to take her picture. All our dishes
were still sitting around, and I didn’t change a thing,
I thought…this looks like love to me. I don’t remember
a single frame, I was shaking and the lens kept blurring
over and she finally just grabbed me and pulled me in.
And I could smell her hair…and her skin was like –
(Beat.)
I sobbed and sobbed.
(Beat.)
I don’t want to forget.
JUNE. Well, then you won’t.
(Pause.)
ALICE. I’m supposed to drive to Atlanta tomorrow.
(Beat.)
JUNE. Tomorrow.
ALICE. Yeah. Have you been?
JUNE. Little kid. School trip.
(Beat.)
What’s her name?
ALICE. Nell.
50 ALABASTER

JUNE. What happened to Nell?

ALICE. You don’t want to know.
JUNE. I do.
(Pause.)
ALICE. She was…raped by her uncle when she was nine
years old. And then the next day when she threatened
to tell her mother, he punched her in the head until she
could no longer see.
JUNE. Oh…
ALICE. She’s fifty-three years old now. She teaches piano to
little kids. And she’s happy.
(ALICE picks up the painting of the cat.)
Why don’t you want people to see your work?
JUNE. (Instantly agitated.) Would you like a grape?
ALICE. No, thank you.
JUNE. You sure?
ALICE. I’m sure.
JUNE. They’re really good.
(Begin rapid fire.)
(Words tumbling.) I can’t stop. It’s my internet, it’s my
porn, it’s my / whatever, it’s ridiculous. Have a grape.
(JUNE tries handing ALICE a handful of
grapes.)
JUNE. ALICE.
(Continuous.) If I stop Can’t stop.
I die, have a grape.
HAVE A GRAPE, HAVE I don’t want –
A FUCKING GRAPE.
(ALICE reluctantly take a grape.)
ALICE. These must be really good grapes…
JUNE. You have NO IDEA!
(Beat.)
ALICE. Question.
 ALABASTER 51

JUNE. No.
ALICE. Question.
JUNE. NO.
ALICE. You really don’t want me doing this do you?
JUNE. You’re a damn genius!
WEEZY. (To JUNE.) Oh my God!
(WEEZY enters JUNE’s orbit now.)
(End rapid fire.)
ALICE. WEEZY.
(To JUNE.) What’s the (To JUNE.) Did you really
point of all this, if no one not see this coming June,
will ever see it? you bring a world famous
photographer into your
JUNE. house
(To ALICE.) You think I’m why would she have any
lookin for approval? questions, June, WHY
WOULD SHE HAVE
ANY QUESTIONS?
(Beat.)
ALICE. Art is meant to be shared.
JUNE. Art is meant to be shared? You sound like a really
bad greetin card and not like Hallmark, like Dollar
General. Meant to be shared. That’s not a rule, Alice,
and if it was, I’d kick its ugly face in.
ALICE. Wow.
JUNE. I don’t need to share. I don’t need to do anything
except what I’m doin.
WEEZY. (To JUNE.) Because it’s workin out so well.
ALICE. You know what I’ve noticed?
JUNE. I would love to know!
ALICE. Every time we talk about your work, you get hostile.
It’s almost as if you don’t want us to talk about your
work. And I think it’s you, JUNE, truthfully, you don’t
want the world to see you.
52 ALABASTER

JUNE. (Regarding the painting ALICE is holding.) Upside

down.
(ALICE turns the painting right side up.)
ALICE. You use a lot of wood.
JUNE. Barn scraps.
ALICE. Why wood? Why not…canvas?
JUNE. This feels weird.
ALICE. It does?
JUNE. It feels like I’m angry with you and you’re askin me
these questions, and I’d rather not be a fuckin bitch
when I answer them.
ALICE. I told you my story…
(Pause.)
JUNE. (Softening.) Yeah. Yeah, you did…
(JUNE looks to WEEZY for a “power-up,” a
shot of courage. They lock eyes. Power is
exchanged. JUNE and WEEZY take a deep
breath in unison.)
(To ALICE – stepping in…) Canvas doesn’t…feel as
good. There’s no history. Wood is unpredictable. It’s…
never the same two pieces, and it’s, it’s got flaws and
inclusions and dirt and stuff and I get it to tell me what
it wants to be and we have a conversation.
(Beat.)
I was in a wheelchair when I painted that one. That’s
how it started. Physical therapy. She wanted me to…do
things. So I did a thing. And then I did another thing.
That was my third paintin, actually.
(Beat.)
I hate the world and I’m in it.
(JUNE looks at the video camera and up at
ALICE. ALICE gives JUNE an “Are you sure?”
look. JUNE nods.)
You can’t undo things and you can’t –
 ALABASTER 53

(ALICE turns on the camera. WEEZY watches

intently.)
(JUNE begins.)
Mama was up late doin laundry, same as always, just
got home from a double at the hospital and she was so
tired, so I went and fed Amy and tucked her in.
ALICE. Your daughter.
JUNE. My sister. Baby sister. She wanted me to sing to her.
I remember her smilin up at me, blinkin those pretty
eyes, like, “I’m not sleepy,” but she was fightin. I said
little girl, you will not win, I will sing you down and
you will not win. She fought so hard. But she finally
fell asleep with her little rag doll and I passed out in
the rocker.
(Beat.)
It came in the night. It was so weird. I woke up thinkin
has Mama turned on the attic fan, all the air was
movin from the room and Amy yellin, “Train, it’s a
train, Jubee!” I looked up and the window was gone,
like fuckin gone. And then it was black, everything was
black, I could hear Mama callin from the porch, and
little Amy was screamin her head off, “Jubee, Jubee,”
reachin for me.
(Beat.)
I snatched her up, ran to the porch, and Mama yellin,
“Get in the cellar!” I ran around to the side yard and
grabbed ahold of the cellar door and it ripped away
from me, right outta my hands, right offa the hinges,
knocked me back. Holdin on to Amy so tight, and
Mama screamin, “Where’s Daddy?” It was all I could
do to hold on to Amy, she was – she was so scared, she
was callin for the cat, “Where’s Pekoe? Where’s Pekoe,”
and the rain, God the rain, and the noise, I couldn’t
hear a thing, I looked up to see a flash of white headed
into the barn, maybe a hundred yards, but I knew it
was Daddy. Seein about the horses. I called to him…
54 ALABASTER

(Pause.)
And then it came. And it was around us, the most
sickenin sound I have ever heard, and it was like God
had reached down and twisted off a piece of the Earth.
And then nothin…for like…whole seconds.
(Beat.)
It was the barn. With Daddy in it. It was gone. It was
there and then it was gone. I couldn’t get into the
cellar…there was nothin to grab hold of, and then the
porch broke sideways, right offa the house, and Amy
still hollerin for Pekoe and Mama screamin, “The
porch, the porch!”
(Pause.)
You try to tell people what it feels like…when a barn
and half a house rains down on top of you. It’s not a
storm. It’s not an accident. It’s three point two seconds
and it’s a thousand rusty knives before you have time
to pray, and then it’s pushin you down into the cold red
mud and the world is gone and I’m dead, this is it.
(Beat.)
But that wasn’t even the worst part. Lyin there in the
dark and this sound, this awful sound, so loud, and it’s
over and over, and its not stoppin, like a hammer, and
it’s louder and louder, and it’s findin out it’s my own
chest and whatever’s left inside tryin to chew its way
out with its teeth. And then Amy’s sweet little voice. So
soft and still, like she was talkin in her sleep, and she
was so far away – how did she get so far away?
(Amy’s voice.) “Where’s Pekoe? Where’s Pekoe?”
(Amy’s voice.) “All gone…”
(ALICE looks at the painting.)
ALICE. That’s Pekoe?
(Beat.)
God…
 ALABASTER 55

(JUNE begins digging in the hope chest for

sheets and pillow cases.)
JUNE. I’m ’on get you some sheets, set you up in the spare
room.
(Beat.)
I lost two months. I don’t know where they went,
I woke up and everybody was runnin around tryin not
to tell me what they needed to tell me. I broke my neck.
Both legs. My skin was sliced open in thirty-two places.
Seven months, eight surgeries and twelve more scars to
show for it.
ALICE. Your family…
JUNE. They’re all buried here. When I finally got home, all
the mess was cleared away and there were markers out
at the edge of the pasture.
(Holding up some bedding options.)
You like a pink sheet or a flannel, too hot for flannel…
(Beat.)
I planted berries and butterfly bush so they wouldn’t be
lonely. And that’s my sad story.
ALICE. Why did you come back here?
JUNE. Is there somewhere else? I get up every day and
I clean the coop and I get the eggs and I feed the goats
and I make a sandwich and that’s my life. That’s my
life.
(ALICE turns off the video camera.)
ALICE. Thank you.
JUNE. Sure.
(Calmly. Curiously.) There’s somethin in my hair…
ALICE. What?
JUNE. (Only slightly annoyed by the bug.) I don’t know, get
it.
(ALICE goes to inspect.)
56 ALABASTER

I’m like some kind of garden witch. Never mind, I got

it.
(JUNE pulls a ladybug out of her hair.)
ALICE. It’s a ladybug.
JUNE. They live in there, and click beetles and God knows
what else, s’what I get for sleepin with the windows
open.
ALICE. Those are good luck, ya know, you gotta make a
wish.
(JUNE goes to the window. She closes her eyes,
makes a wish, and then blows the ladybug out
of the window as if blowing out a birthday
candle. WEEZY smiles tenderly at JUNE. The
ladybug flutters all around BIB who delights
in the little visitor. Everyone watches as it
entertains BIB for a moment and then flutters
off.)
JUNE. (To the ladybug.) Good luck, ladybug. With your
ladybug girlfriend. At the ladybug picnic.
(Pause.)
(Breathing in the fresh air.)
I want to go to Mexico.
ALICE. You’re not supposed to tell me your wish!
JUNE. No, that’s not my wish, I just wanna go to Mexico.
We were supposed to go as a family.
(JUNE goes to her cabinet and pulls out a few
travel books and hands them to ALICE.)
ALICE. Oh?
JUNE. Daddy had it all mapped out.
ALICE. You were close?
(JUNE nods. During the following, JUNE pulls
out a box of travel books, maps, etc., and sits
on the bed to sift through it. ALICE eventually
joins her on the bed.)
 ALABASTER 57

There’s tickets in here. Somewhere. He was really good

at planning.
(Beat.)
The things you never get around to.
(ALICE picks up a travel book.)
ALICE. Todos Santos…
JUNE. You know it?
ALICE. I’ve been there. Twice.
JUNE. Really?
ALICE. Mountains…ocean. A lot of artists go there. You
could go there and paint.
JUNE. What did you want to be when you were growin up,
a photographer?
(During the following, ALICE’s focus is on a
big fold-out map of Todos Santos.)
ALICE. I used to sneak into Dad’s darkroom. Open up the
boxes and breathe in the smells, you know how film
has that smell? He showed me how to see things. And
then one day something came in the mail. Dad said, go
ahead, open it. His picture was on the cover of Vogue
magazine. And then I turn to see my dad just beaming
from the kitchen. And he’s standing there in nothing
but a white oxford shirt and black socks, smoking a
cigar with Lauren Hutton. “Howdayah like me now,
kid?” Except I didn’t know it was Lauren Hutton. Or
any of them, actually. They were just pretty ladies who
hung around and brought me chocolates.
JUNE. Your mama must have hated that.
ALICE. She was gone by then.
(Off JUNE’s look.)
Breast cancer.
(JUNE reaches over to touch ALICE’s bracelet.
ALICE reacts to the warmth of JUNE’s hand.)
58 ALABASTER

JUNE. So, you knew Chrissy was pregnant before she left
for Vermont, right?
(Beat.)
So, why didn’t you go with her?
ALICE. Work.
JUNE. That’s gotta be super fucked up. You wouldn’t be lyin
here with me right now.
ALICE. I’ve thought about it. Or maybe we’d have gone a
different route. Like West through Albany. Along the
river.
JUNE. I should have left her in her bed.
ALICE. Don’t do that.
JUNE. Oh, I’m doin it.
(Pause.)
What do you ache for, Alice?
(A very long pause.)
ALICE. To be seen?
(JUNE nods.)
(Regarding Mexico.) You can still go, ya know?
JUNE. (Deflecting.) Are you gettin hungry?
ALICE. June.
JUNE. (Avoiding.) I got some purple hulls comin in out
back, some early okra.
(Beat.)
ALICE. I spent three months on a sofa out in Long Island.
I didn’t leave the house for fifty-seven days.
JUNE. Nine hundred forty-five.
(Beat.)
ALICE. What?
JUNE. Nine hundred forty-five days. I think we have some
turnips too. Tomatoes and cukes, let’s go out back.
ALICE. Nine hundred forty-five –
 ALABASTER 59

JUNE. (Overlapping.) I’m the next Harper Lee.

ALICE. How do you manage?
JUNE. Umm, I manage.
ALICE. Do you –
JUNE. (Continuous.) For the most part. I know some VERY
GOOD enablers. So.
(Beat.)
I mean, I don’t like it, it’s not my first ch – you’re totally
freakin out right now, shit, let me go cut up some okra.
(JUNE looks for her shoes.)
ALICE. June.
JUNE. (Words tumbling.) You know that thing where you
show up to a blind date and dude is standin there with
one leg? I got one leg, Alice. One leg.
ALICE. You have two. I don’t like okra.
(All action stops as JUNE, WEEZY, and finally
BIB all turn to glare at ALICE.)
JUNE. (Deadly serious.) What did you say?
ALICE. I don’t like okra.
(Beat.)
JUNE. (Aghast.) YOU SHUT YOUR MOUTH get outta this
house.
ALICE. Slimy. Gross.
JUNE. That’s not on the okra, Alice, that is not the okra’s
fault.
ALICE. Snails on a plate.
JUNE. (Overlapping.) Who the fuck has been feedin you?
(Beat.)
ALICE. (Needling.) Cracker Barrel.
JUNE. (Practically hissing.) WEEZY. (Spitting mad.)
NOT FUNNY. NOT Pffff! Pffff! BE-Pffff!
FUNNY. NOT FUNNY.
60 ALABASTER

ALICE. We were talking about Mexico. It’s a two hour plane

ride from here. And I / bet they have okra.
(JUNE exits.)
JUNE. (Overlapping. Exiting.) You need to put your flip
flops ON and MEET ME OUT BACK!
ALICE. (Overlapping, calling.) How bad is it?
(Beat.)
Can you get into town? The crossing?
(JUNE re-enters.)
The mailbox?
JUNE. I can get to the crossin, I just can’t –
(She does a “crossing over” gesture.)
Peachy’s house. And her barn, just barely.
ALICE. And then what?
JUNE. Outer space. Oxygen free.
ALICE. Nine hundred forty-five days?
JUNE. (Deflecting, words tumbling.) There was a boy in my
tenth grade history class, I remember him sayin some
stupid shit about Mexicans, like how they should get
their own country and stay off our beaches. I said you
are one stupid motherfucker, you know that? I was like
dude, you do realize we share the same beach, right?
Like… It’s the Gulf of Mexico, not the Gulf of Fuckin
Dipshit Alabama.
ALICE. (Concerned.) June?
JUNE. (Anxious.) I’m not ready. Ya know?
ALICE. I do.
JUNE. (Brightly.) So, I’ll meet you out back then?
ALICE. Sure.
(JUNE exits.)
 ALABASTER 61

Scene Three

(Moments later.)
(WEEZY enters the garden area and digs up
a mason jar filled with pickled okra. She
opens it and starts snacking. JUNE enters and
begins picking vegetables.)
JUNE. Why do you eat the okra, I give you carrots.
WEEZY. This isn’t about the okra.
(ALICE emerges onto the porch and looks
out at the pasture. She takes a few pictures.
WEEZY watches her intently.)
I don’t like carrots…
JUNE. You’re a goat, goats eat everything.
WEEZY. (Regarding ALICE.) I like her, she’s unafraid.
JUNE. (Preemptively.) Stop. Go do your goat things.
WEEZY. (Amused.) Really? Goat things?
JUNE. Fuck off. How ’bout that?
(Beat.)
(WEEZY catches JUNE looking over at ALICE.)
WEEZY. (Amused.) Are you blushin?
JUNE. Shut up.
(BIB moves, adjusts, falls back asleep.)
WEEZY. (Regarding BIB.) Soon.
JUNE. I’ll call the vet.
WEEZY. No. She doesn’t want all that. She just wants to go.
(Pause.)
(Guardedly.) When she dies, I’m ’on take off.
JUNE. For how long?
(Pause.)
(Off WEEZY’s look.) Oh.
(Stung.) I hadn’t realized I was so impossible.
62 ALABASTER

WEEZY. S’OK, I realized it enough for the both of us.

(Beat.)
I gotta do some things.
JUNE. Like what?
WEEZY. (Needling.) Goat things.
(Tenderly.) She wanted me to tell you she’s sorry for
eatin up all your okra.
JUNE. She said that?
WEEZY. No.
(Pause.)
JUNE. I don’t want you to go.
(JUNE walks over to BIB and kisses her on the
head.)
Oh, sweet Bib. I’m so sorry, Weezy.
WEEZY. Hey, you know me. I always land on my feet.
Hooves.
(JUNE exits. WEEZY watches ALICE for a
moment and then turns her attention to BIB.)
(Lights fade as WEEZY leads BIB offstage.
Lights up on JUNE’s room.)
 ALABASTER 63

Scene Four

(JUNE’s bedroom. Two a.m. A wind chime is

heard chattering away outside.)
(JUNE enters her room and climbs into bed
(which may or may not still be covered with
a pile of maps and books). She drifts off to
sleep…)
(A bolt of lightning followed immediately by
a loud thunder crack. JUNE bolts upright in
bed, terrified and hysterical. She springs into
action.)
JUNE. Fuck!
(A cacophony of noise, flashes of lightning,
pounding thunder and the sound of a fast
moving freight train, horns blaring, wood
cracking.)
Shoes! Shoes! Shoes!
(JUNE puts on her shoes.)
(The sound of ripping metal.)
Oh, fuck.
(She gathers items…)
Pillows! Flash light. In the tub, everything in the tub.
Shit.
(She throws all the items into a pile near the
door and then goes for the mattress. She tries
to drag it off the bed…)
(Yanking at the mattress.)
Gotta go. Gotta go.
(Sound of Amy crying, “Jubee! Jubee!”)
Amy. Amy??
(Air raid siren.)
64 ALABASTER

(JUNE runs to the door, but it won’t open.)

AMY!!! AMY!!!!!!!!!!!! OH MY GOD…
(She pulls on it, over and over but it won’t
budge. Amy’s cries continue…)
(Ad lib.) AMY!!!!! AMY!!! WHERE ARE YOU?!!!
(JUNE pounds on the door. She runs to the
window and opens it. The wind and rain rush
in, pushing her back. She tries to reach the
window again, but it’s no use. Another loud
punch of noise and then a great swooping
vacuum of silence followed by an explosion
as the world goes black.)
Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God, Amy!!!
(WEEZY enters the light. Perhaps she has
conjured this “storm” or perhaps not. She
is invested in the outcome and watches on
intently.)
(The door to the bedroom opens and ALICE
rushes in just as JUNE reaches the window.)
JUNE. (Screaming out the window.) Amy! Where are
you???!
ALICE. June!
JUNE. Amy!!!!!!!!!
(ALICE pulls JUNE back from the window and
slams it shut.)
(The noise continues.)
ALICE. June!
JUNE. No, no, no, no, no! AMY!!!!
ALICE. June, it’s OK, you awake? Wake up, June!
JUNE. I’m gonna fuckin die here!
ALICE. Wake up, babe.
JUNE. Oh, my God, Amy!
ALICE. Wake up, June. Wake up for me.
 ALABASTER 65

JUNE. Amy. Amy. Amy. Amy. Amy. Amy. Amy. Amy.

ALICE. (Shaking JUNE.) JUNE! JUNE!!!!
(Clap of thunder.)
(JUNE startles with a violent inhale of air, as
if surfacing from deep water.)
(ALICE catches sight of WEEZY exiting into the
darkness.)
( JUNE looks around, wide-eyed and
bewildered.)
(Softly.) Holy shit. Are you OK?
JUNE. Fuuuuuck…
(JUNE stares at ALICE.)
(Thunder rips fast across the dark night sky.)
(JUNE pulls ALICE into her clutches.)
(The rain follows, a thrashing torrent on tin
roof.)
(They melt into the bed.)
(Lights fade.)

End of Act I
 A NOTE ABOUT THE INTIMACY
AT THE END OF ACT I
In terms of whether or not June and Alice “sleep together” at the end
of Act I – i.e., whether the physicality in the final moments is platonic,
innocent, suggested, explicit – I’m intentionally leaving that open to
interpretation.

While I would agree that intimacy is a singular experience and that

writers are encouraged to be specific with their ideas, I have always
approached my work pragmatically and encourage interpreters of
my work to do the same. So, out of respect for each theater and their
individual needs, I do not wish to constrain or require any specific
degree of physicality, nudity, etc.

You have my blessing to work with your actors to find what feels right for
you and for your unique audiences. Any allusions found in the remainder
of the text regarding the physical nature of Alice and June’s relationship
should work regardless of how you choose to “end” Act I.

My advice would be to decide (through experimentation) the degree of

mystery and innocence you’d like to see throughout the play and work
your way “back” from there. If there is to be anything beyond just a
platonic moment, June should be the one to initiate. If that is the case,
then I might recommend Alice pull back at first, in an effort to protect
June. I leave the rest up to you.
 ACT II

Scene One

(Sunday. Early morning.)

(Lights up on JUNE in her room sitting on her
bed, reading Nadja’s book.)
(Outside, ALICE is in the yard on a yoga mat
finishing up her daily yoga routine. BIB
sleeps on her pallet. WEEZY sits on the porch
with her lunch, a Red Bull and a big salad in
a carry-out container. She eats her salad with
a spork and watches ALICE.)
ALICE. Just gonna sit over there and watch, I guess.
(Beat.)
Different kinda goat yoga.
(Beat.)
Passive aggressive goat yoga… hashtag goat shit,
hashtag YOLO. (Ad lib.)
WEEZY. (Overlapping.) Nice form.
ALICE. (Reflexively.) Thanks.
(Beat.)
Oh God.
(WEEZY waves her spork in greeting. She
resumes eating.)
(Long pause as ALICE tries to process how to
respond to a talking goat.)

67
68 ALABASTER

Did you just –

(Pause.)
Are – are you eating a salad?
WEEZY. Couscous.
(WEEZY continues to eat. ALICE steps in
cautiously…)
ALICE. Couscous? Interesting.
(Beat.)
I, umm… I used to be… afraid of couscous…
WEEZY. Is that right?
ALICE. Yeah, actually. When I was little.
(WEEZY stares directly at ALICE and awaits an
explanation.)
The, uh…
WEEZY. Use your words.
ALICE. The, uh…right, umm, when I was twelve years old it
was on the menu at my summer camp a coupla times,
and then one day Tommy Fitzpatrick told everyone in
the lunch room that couscous was made out of eyeballs.
(WEEZY pauses with a mouth full of food.)
(Off WEEZY’s look. Tentatively.) So. As you can
imagine –
WEEZY. (Overlapping.) What kind of eyeballs?
(Pause.)
ALICE. (Sheepishly.) Sheep?
(WEEZY suddenly loses her appetite.)
( ALICE resumes her yoga but her focus
remains on WEEZY.)
What are you?
WEEZY. I’m some kind of like wise Yoda, gouda, kinda
thing, you should ask the author.
ALICE. Yoda…
 ALABASTER 69

WEEZY. (Brusquely.) Are you ’bout done with the salute the
sun dog-facin, I need you to do somethin for me.
(Instructing.)
In the grass there is a gold cross. You’re supposed to
put it in your pocket and give it to June at a pivotal
moment in the story so she can have an emotional
reaction to it.
ALICE. (Searching.) Over here?
WEEZY. Up under yer wee wee pad.
ALICE. My what?
WEEZY. The pad, the mattress pad!
ALICE. Oh.
(ALICE lifts up her yoga mat and sees the
necklace immediately.)
Oh, I see it.
(ALICE picks up the necklace and examines
it.)
WEEZY. (All business.) Now listen, that belonged to Miss
Elsee, June’s mama. She was a preacher’s wife and he
gave it to her on their weddin night. She never took it
off, not once in all those years.
ALICE. WEEZY.
OK. (Brusquely.) Put it in
your pocket.
Wow.
I don’t have a pocket. Yeah you do.
ALICE. (Fucking delighted to find a pocket.) I do have a
pocket!!!
(Appreciatively.) What?! I never use that pocket!!!
WEEZY. (Dryly.) It’s what I do.
(Pause.)
ALICE. You seem grumpy.
(Pause.)
70 ALABASTER

WEEZY. (Flatly.) I seem grumpy?

(Begin rapid fire.)
ALICE. Yes.
WEEZY. Was Yoda grumpy?
ALICE. Yes.
WEEZY. Gandalf?
ALICE. Yes.
WEEZY. Mr. Miy-ag-i?
(WEEZY pulls herself up into a Karate Kid
crane pose…)
ALICE. (Overlapping – amused.) Fine.
(End rapid fire. Pause.)
WEEZY. You want the truth?
ALICE. (Stepping lightly.) Yes, I wanna say yes?
WEEZY. I’m tired of lookin after everybody.
(Beat.)
I’m tired in general.
( ALICE locks eyes with WEEZY. After a
moment…)
Does it work?
ALICE. Yes.
(WEEZY gestures for ALICE to resume her yoga.
She watches on for a bit and then, unseen by
ALICE, WEEZY slowly pretzels her body into a
hilarious and spectacularly impossible yoga
position.)
WEEZY. (Maneuvering.) What does it do?
ALICE. It feels amazing. And when I’m done I can almost
breathe, almost.
(ALICE turns to see WEEZY nearly upside-
down.)
(Amused.) You wanna try?
 ALABASTER 71

WEEZY. Nope.
ALICE. You sure?
WEEZY. (Covering as if inspecting a porch board or a patch
of fescue.) Yep.
(Ad lib.) That’s a good board right there. Solid.
(Inside the house, we see JUNE putting the
book away and pulling out some art supplies
and an old quilt.)
(BIB awakens to a twisting pain. She cries
out. Her blanket falls loose.)
Okay, mama, okay!
(ALICE pauses her yoga to watch on as WEEZY
cares for BIB.)
(WEEZY comforts her mother through the wave
of pain. BIB cries out again. ALICE watches on,
concerned.)
(Pause.)
WEEZY. (To ALICE.) Do you miss her?
(ALICE stares at WEEZY…astonished to learn
that she knows about Chrissy.)
ALICE. Every day.
(Beat.)
Every hour.
WEEZY. What do you miss most?
(No response from ALICE. WEEZY turns to look
at her.)
ALICE. That’s so weird.
WEEZY. What?
ALICE. She’s been gone almost a year now and that is the
first time anyone has asked me that question.
WEEZY. (Tenderly.) Well, I’m asking.
72 ALABASTER

(BIB sighs a contented sigh. ALICE and WEEZY

now watch over BIB who has fallen back
asleep.)
ALICE. Her laugh. They way she would sing, show tunes,
just whatever, sing for any reason, any place, full
volume – I’m talking to a goat.
WEEZY. Shit. Like right now?
(Beat.)
That’s fucked up.
(ALICE and WEEZY look on as JUNE appears at
an open window and shakes out the quilt.)
It’s on you now. You know that, right?
(JUNE turns on her little portable radio. A
joyful music* fills the entire scene, as:)
(WEEZY tucks BIB in and begins fixing one of
the unruly braids in her mother’s hair. ALICE
resumes her yoga routine.)
(The music is now at full volume as the focus
turns to JUNE…)
(JUNE finds ALICE’s shirt among the covers.
She holds it for a moment, taking it in, and
then places it off to the side. She puts the old
quilt on her bed to catch the paint and dirt
and then sits on her bed with a painting in
progress. She selects her paint and readies her
brush. She begins.)
(ALICE finishes her yoga routine and exits.)
(WEEZY finishes up with her mother’s hair
and sits nearby in the lawn chair.)

* A license to produce Alabaster does not include a performance license

for any third-party or copyrighted music. Licensees should create an
original composition or use music in the public domain. For further
information, please see Music Use Note on page 3.
 ALABASTER 73

(ALICE enters JUNE’s room. JUNE turns off the

radio and continues to paint. She does not
make eye contact.)
JUNE. Hey, what’s good?
ALICE. I was just, uh, outside talking to your goat.
JUNE. Is she givin you a hard time?
ALICE. A little, yeah – also, I was just outside. Talking to a
goat.
JUNE. It’s catching.
ALICE. Uh huh.
JUNE. She’s like plague. Black death.
(ALICE retrieves her shirt and puts it with her
belongings. JUNE notices.)
ALICE. (Off JUNE’s look.) You OK?
JUNE. Sure.
ALICE. This word, “sure,” does it really mean sure?
JUNE. Sure.
(ALICE notices the painting.)
ALICE. (Hesitantly.) That’s a little different than your usual
fare…
(Beat.)
Lovers?
JUNE. Maybe.
ALICE. Maybe.
JUNE. (Coldly.) Maybe they’re just strangers who fuck.
ALICE. (Stung.) No harm in it.
JUNE. Nope.
ALICE. It’s pretty.
JUNE. It’s not done, hand me the yellow.
ALICE. (Regarding the painting.) Another barn scrap?
JUNE. (Regarding the yellow paint.) It’s right over there.
(ALICE retrieves the yellow paint but then
stops in her tracks. She looks at the piles of
74 ALABASTER

wood in the room – really seeing them for the

first time.)
(Long pause.)
ALICE. (Apprehensively.) June? Where do you get the barn
scraps you use in your paintings?
JUNE. From the barn, duh.
ALICE. You don’t have a barn.
( ALICE looks around the room again,
finally understanding the scope of JUNE’s
compulsion.)
(Long pause.)
Are you telling me that all of this wood that you’ve been
painting on is from –
(Beat.)
What happens when you run out of wood?
(Beat.)
That was a serious question. / June?
JUNE. (Overlapping – agitated.) I’m happy when I’m
paintin.
ALICE. OK.
JUNE. There’s no pain when I’m paintin.
ALICE. OK, I get that. It’s just…there’s so much of it, June.
(Beat.)
This isn’t healthy.
JUNE. (Agitated.) Hand me that towel, please.
(ALICE notices the agitation, she retrieves the
towel and sits with JUNE, taking her hands in
hers. They lock eyes. JUNE takes a deep breath.
She settles.)
I never saw them go into the ground. I always thought
when I buried my mother I’d be able to pick out her
dress. Nope. And Daddy would have hated to be buried
in the south pasture. He wanted to be cremated and
 ALABASTER 75

thrown into Pensacola Bay. And damnit, people oughta

leave this world the way they want to!
(Beat.)
After I made that little garden, I came back two
days later and all my lavender had been chewed up.
I thought it was deer, but then I remembered they don’t
like lavender. So, I planted some more and then I found
my binoculars and started watchin from the kitchen
window. And then one day I saw her. It was that little
shit Weezy. Eatin up all my lavender, butterfly bush.
I ran out the back door, I’ve never run so fast. And she
saw me and started runnin. I was like where have you
been, honestly I really thought she was dead. She must
have just been hangin out down by the crossin all that
time, there’s good water there.
ALICE. So, Weezy survived the storm?
JUNE. I don’t know how.
ALICE. And Bib?
JUNE. That’s Weezy’s mama. I went up there and took her
back from Mr. Autrey up the road so Weezy could have
somebody. Don’t laugh. I used to let her sleep with me.
She’d lay there and I’d look into those big brown eyes
and her lookin back at me. She’s got the pain and lonely
of the whole world inside her. Storm passes through,
and she’s wanderin around…all her friends and family…
(Beat.)
Once she found out I was back, she wouldn’t leave me
the hell alone.
WEEZY. (Correcting.) You wouldn’t leave me alone.
JUNE. Scratchin at the window.
(Beat.)
I made a little bed for her in the corner, ya know, what
the hell. And then I woke up and she had climbed into
bed with me.
WEEZY. No, you put me in bed with you and it was somethin
like a choke hold.
76 ALABASTER

(JUNE talks with ALICE but her focus now

turns to WEEZY.)
JUNE. We stayed like that for weeks. And then one day she
didn’t climb into bed like normal.
(Beat.)
And I realized I felt better. And I started thinkin that’s
what that was, she was takin the pain away, and I know
how that sounds but why else would I just all of a
sudden start feelin better on the one day she started
sleepin back on the floor.
WEEZY. Because you wouldn’t stop kickin me.
JUNE. And you fart in your sleep.
WEEZY. Well you would know, fart queen!
JUNE. WEEZY.
Be ashamed. Be Olympic gold fart
ashamed. champion of the world.
JUNE. Shut up and be ashamed.
(To ALICE.) She farts in her sleep.
(Pause.)
ALICE. You know, June, I could sit here and tell you that
your work deserves to be seen, and it does, and you
don’t want to hear it, and that’s fine. But I’m talking
about you, June. You’re a beautiful, vibrant woman and
you are meant for more than this. You’ve been alone for
so long.
(Beat.)
Your parents…they wouldn’t have wanted this for you.
JUNE. (Agitated.) I’m gonna get some iced tea, you want
some?
ALICE. (Impulsively.) Come with me to Atlanta.
(JUNE glares at ALICE.)
(Decidedly.) Yeah. You should come.
JUNE. (Dumbfounded.) Why?
ALICE. Because it would be good for you.
 ALABASTER 77

(JUNE looks at ALICE like a dog tilting its head

at a far away noise.)
JUNE. (Slow and deliberate.) OK… I’m really thirsty…right
now. So, I’m gonna go and get some iced tea. Like
people do. From the kitchen. Where it’s located.
(JUNE exits.)
(BIB’s breathing becomes labored. WEEZY cries
out.)
(Bedroom: ALICE, hearing the goat sounds,
looks around for the kibble and pours a cup
full out the window.)
(ALICE’s phone rings, but this time with a
more NEUTRAL RINGTONE. She answers
it.)
ALICE. Hey. How are you? Oh? Is it raining up there? Oh,
good, I’m so out of it. No, it’s good, I’m down here in
Alabama. Feedin some goats. Yeah, like right outside
Birmingham. Oh my God, you have no idea.
(JUNE returns with two glasses of tea and
stands in the doorway listening to ALICE’s
phone call.)
She’s got these paintings, they’re ridiculous*, I can’t
even. I’ll try to send you a picture. I’d love for you to
meet her.
(ALICE notices JUNE standing in the doorway.)
I will. I think she’d like that, actually. OK. Oh, no, don’t
burn dinner. No, you go, I’ll find you later. OK, babe.
Bye.
JUNE. ALICE.
You’re tellin people about
me?
Alice? June, I –

* Incredible.
78 ALABASTER

JUNE. ALICE.
I really wish you hadn’t that was –
done that. Wrappin me
up like some country
bumpkin discovery. Who
was that, your agent?
ALICE. I’ll let you calm down.
JUNE. Calm down?
ALICE. See, this is exactly what I was getting / at. It’s like
you – ya know, what, I’m not gonna say it.
JUNE. (Overlapping.) I hate that you did that. HATE.
ALICE. What exactly is it you think I did just now?
JUNE. (Overlapping.) I don’t want you tellin people about
me.
JUNE. ALICE.
I’m not for sale! June.
ALICE. That wasn’t my agent, June.
JUNE. I don’t care who it was, you don’t talk / about me.
ALICE. (Overlapping.) It was Nadja.
(Beat.)
JUNE. Nadja…
(Processing.)
The book lady?
(Beat.)
Are you fuckin her too?
ALICE. WHAT?
JUNE. Are you?
ALICE. Seriously?
JUNE. Come with you to Atlanta? I think maybe you need
to call your sponsor, I think maybe you missed a step.
Aren’t you supposed to go buy a ficus or somethin, a
plant, make sure it doesn’t die, ya know, from hoverin?
(BIB begins to gasp for breath. WEEZY cries out
again.)
 ALABASTER 79

(Intermittent goat cries (of pain, fear,

sadness, etc.) from both BIB and WEEZY
throughout the remainder of the scene. Their
cries – indeed, the throes of death – ebb and
flow as a counterpoint to ALICE and JUNE’s
heated exchange. We should be able to hear all
the dialogue clearly.)
(ALICE retrieves another cup of kibble.)
ALICE. OK, first of all, she’s engaged. And second of all,
to a MAN. And third of all, not in SIX lifetimes, OK,
Nadja’s like a mother to me, not that I need to defend
this – ya know this is bullshit.
JUNE. ALICE.
(Overlapping.) I’m not (Pouring kibble out the
jealous, Alice, don’t [Link].) I’m feeding
your goats, June, I’m
feeding your goats!
JUNE. Do what you want. I’m stupid anyway, why are you
even here? Just go.
ALICE. WEEZY & BIB.
OK, there, that, that right (Intermittent
there, that’s what goat cries.)
I’m talking about, those
words, they’re all mixed
up and crazy and I can’t (Intermittent
fight that, that’s like how goat cries.)
a child talks, and you’re
not a child, you’re a
grown woman. You have (Intermittent
to know what you want, goat cries.)
June.
(Beat.)
What do you want?!
JUNE. I DON’T KNOW!
(The goat cries intensify for a moment.)
80 ALABASTER

ALICE. WEEZY & BIB.

(To the GOATS.) Do you (Intermittent
mind? We are in CRISIS! goat cries.)
(To JUNE.) You are (Intermittent
holding on to an illusion. goat cries.)
Some…some idea of
wholeness, something
that you created in your (Intermittent
own head, June, and it goat cries.)
served you once, but not
anymore. You can choose.
You can actually do that.
You can decide that
you’ve done enough and
you can walk out that
door.
WEEZY. (To BIB.) It’s OK, Mama.
JUNE. ALICE.
I tell you what, I’ll walk
out that door the day you
pick up that phone call
from your dad.
Easy peasy. Right? You can’t compare that,
it’s not the –
JUNE. I think I just did. Not the same? Not the second-
hardest-thing you / can imagine?
ALICE. (Overlapping.) We’re talking about you, June.
JUNE. Right.
ALICE. You brought me here for a reason. Remember that
part? Do you?
JUNE. Just go.
ALICE. You have to leave this place!
JUNE. Get the fuck outta here!
JUNE. ALICE.
(A yelp.) NOBODY Nope.
WANTS THIS!
 ALABASTER 81

(ALICE retrieves her cell phone, opens up a

photo gallery and hands the phone to JUNE.)
JUNE. What?
ALICE. Scroll.
JUNE. Scroll.
ALICE. Just swipe.
JUNE. Swipe. What the fuck is swipe?
(JUNE swipes the whole phone back and forth
in the air like a windshield wiper. This has
the adorable effect of bringing the whole
argument to a screeching halt.)
ALICE. Watch – stop – that’s fucking adorable, here, let me
show you.
JUNE. ALICE.
I’m so dumb.
Ugh, this is torture. Take one finger.
ALICE. That way. Scroll that way.
JUNE. (Regarding the photo on the phone.) That’s Weezy.
How’d you get in there, Weezy?
ALICE. (Overlapping – correcting.) Other way.
JUNE. ALICE.
You see my swipin?! The other way.
ALICE. No the other other way.
JUNE. (Frustrated.) Ohmahgod, would you make up your –
(JUNE draws a quick breath, reacting to the
photograph on her screen. Projection: The
photographs, candid photos taken of JUNE
when she was outside playing with WEEZY
and BIB, come to life around the room. )
ALICE. That’s you. That’s what I see. You look at me and
tell me she’s not beautiful. Tell me. You can’t because
you know I’m right. You can keep scrolling, there’s
more.
(Beat.)
82 ALABASTER

She’s not sad, June. NOT SAD.

(Silence.)
( JUNE scrolls through the photographs.
Her reaction to the photographs is varied
and profound, but she does what she can to
contain her emotions.)
( JUNE turns slowly on ALICE , almost
menacing…)
JUNE. (Ice cold.) Did any part of you think maybe for one
second I might not be ready to see this?
ALICE. (Hesitant.) I dunno, I thought maybe if you could /
see the –
JUNE. (Overlapping.) Don’t think, don’t think. Here’s a
thing about death Alice. S’triggers everywhere. That’s
why we talk to / each other. We communicate.
ALICE. JUNE.
You don’t have a lock on (Continuous.) So we
death June. don’t hurt each other just
casually walking around
on two feet and what-
not.
ALICE. (Overlapping – sarcastic.) How could I have /
known that, June? You’re a fucking BRAT, ya know
that? Grow up!
JUNE. (Overlapping.) Seriously, you hand me your fuckin
phone like that, are you cracked? Your girl and your
baby are just barely gone and you’re comin after me?
This is sick! All of it! You’re not over them. And guess
what, you won’t ever be, because those motherfuckers,
they take a part of you and LEAVE and they don’t
come back. There is no “wholeness,” Alice. It’s just an
ache. And it’s endless. So, thank you so much, Alice, I
really appreciate you tryin and all, but don’t come in
here bringin your pain to (Making air quotes.) “mix in
with mine.” I really – REALLY – wish you wouldn’t!
 ALABASTER 83

(JUNE exits.)
ALICE. (Calling.) Question…
JUNE. (Calling from off.) No!
ALICE. (Calling.) QUESTION!!!
(Long pause.)
(JUNE re-enters.)
(Pause.)
JUNE. (Softly.) Go…
ALICE. (Calm and collected.) Am I not feeling bad enough
for you? Is that what this is?
(Beat.)
When you and your…cousin…were looking through my
pictures, and…digging into my personal life, just so
I know, what / else did you find?
JUNE. That’s not / what that was.
ALICE. BE QUIET!!! I’m talking now.
(Beat.)
Page Six? Oh, that was fun. Picture me: Monday
rush, Varick and Watts, passed out next to a maggot-
filled dumpster. You found that one, right, when you
were doing all of your…“research”? Couch-surfing in
Bushwick? Coke at The Roxy? Oh, oh, what was it?
There was a thing when I drove my dad’s Porsche
[I think.] off an overpass up in Pearl River.
(WEEZY’s cries intensify now, and escalate
through the remainder of the scene…)
But I see it now, June, I do. There’s an order, a process.
If I had only just done the hard work and locked myself
away for three years with a
(Pointing toward the goat noises.)
TALKING GOAT and another one DYING, just think
what I could have been.
(Beat.)
84 ALABASTER

I am so glad I met you, June. I am SO HAPPY I’m

here, and by the way…
(WEEZY’s world cracks open.)
(Continuous.) FUCK. YOU!!!! Fuck you, June!
WEEZY. (Softly.) Mama?
ALICE. WEEZY.
YOU DON’T GET TO MAMA?! MAMA?!
BE THE ONLY ONE!
WEEZY. (Continuous.) MAMAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!
JUNE. (Overlapping. Racing out the door.) I’m comin
Weezy!
WEEZY. (Softly. Almost childlike.) Mama… mamaaaaa…
mama…
 ALABASTER 85

Requiem

(Part dream. Part not. A blanket of moonlight.

Delicate music*. A calm.)
(WEEZY and BIB, as before. WEEZY holds a
lifeless BIB in her arms.)
(BIB slowly opens her eyes and sits up. She
stands up tall. She is strong and able as if in
her prime. She removes all of her garments
except for a white cotton slip and hands them
in a bundle to WEEZY. She comforts WEEZY
with a kiss on the forehead.)
(Projection (optional): a baby goat, playing.)
(BIB looks around the yard for a moment. She
finds a garden that looks right enough for a
grave and kneels in front of it. She gathers
the dark earth in her hands and piles it into
a mound. She clutches two handfuls of soil
to her chest and closes her eyes to pray. She
allows her body to release all of the pain. The
emotions come. She allows them for as long as
is necessary to be done with the living world.
She inhales. She opens her eyes.)
BIB. (Joyfully.) Amen…
(BIB covers the grave with dark earth. She
stands. She looks back at the house, at WEEZY
in a trance, still clutching her garments.)
WEEZY. Amen…
(WEEZY exits.)

* A license to produce Alabaster does not include a performance license

for any third-party or copyrighted music. Licensees should create an
original composition or use music in the public domain. For further
information, please see Music Use Note on page 3.
86 ALABASTER

(JUNE enters the grave site area with a basket

of pine cones and flowers.)
(BIB approaches JUNE, smiling. She blows a
gentle puff of air into JUNE’s hair and then
exits.)
 ALABASTER 87

Scene Two

(As before.)
(JUNE approaches BIB’s grave. WEEZY looks
out at the horizon. They are both raw with
emotion now.)
(JUNE places flower petals and pine cones on
BIB’s grave.)
JUNE. She was so good.
(Beat.)
I’m sorry Weezy.
WEEZY. (Numb.) You have to leave this place.
JUNE. Well, I’ll just waltz right on out then.
WEEZY. Waltz, walk, / whatever.
JUNE. (Overlapping.) Until I die. With no oxygen / until
I’m asphyxiated.
WEEZY. (Overlapping.) Good God, so dramatic.
JUNE. (Overlapping.) Until I’m – dyin is dramatic, yes, dyin
is dramatic!
WEEZY. Mama died easy, Mama wasn’t dramatic, she died
in her fuckin sleep.
JUNE. OK, Bib is a goat!
WEEZY. (Stung.) That’s right, June, Bib is a goat.
JUNE. WEEZY.
I’m not a goat! You’re not a goat!!!
WEEZY. What are you waitin for, anyway, blueprints?
JUNE. You’re not angry at me, you’re angry at the world.
WEEZY. How the hell would you know?
JUNE. You can’t hurt me.
WEEZY. Outstanding.
JUNE. (Softening.) Weezy.
WEEZY. (A yelp.) EVERYTHING DIES HERE!
(Pause.)
88 ALABASTER

(WEEZY has one last difficult task to take care

of. She is emotional but pushes through and
gets down to business.)
When you sit down with a new piece of wood, you have
it all planned out, or no?
JUNE. No.
WEEZY. No?
JUNE. No.
WEEZY. So, how does it work?
JUNE. I just…begin, I guess, I get your point, I do.
WEEZY. You have to want it, do you want it?
(JUNE nods.)
OK then. Tell me what you want. What you dream
about.
JUNE. Naps?
WEEZY. June.
JUNE. A day without pain?
WEEZY. Close your eyes.
JUNE. I don’t –
WEEZY. Close.
JUNE. What –
(JUNE closes her eyes. WEEZY breathes, JUNE
breathes with her.)
WEEZY. Just tell me what you see.
JUNE. See where?
WEEZY. (About to lose it.) Make. Shit. Up.
(Pause. JUNE tries to “see”…)
JUNE. (Unsure where to begin.) What am I –
WEEZY. OK, start with the ridge line.
JUNE. The ridge line.
WEEZY. (Firmly – at the breaking point.) The one in front
of our house.
(JUNE and WEEZY stand side by side, both
facing the ridge line.)
 ALABASTER 89

JUNE. Oh, the ridge line.

WEEZY. Got it?
JUNE. Yeah.
WEEZY. You see the old lean-to in the South Forty?
JUNE. Yeah.
WEEZY. Good.
JUNE. I gotta trash that lean-to.
WEEZY. Ya can’t, there’s kittens.
JUNE. Kittens?!
WEEZY. Brand new litter o’ kittens, under that lean-to.
JUNE. Are you shittin me?
WEEZY. Look down there.
JUNE. (“Seeing” the kittens.) I see’em! Oh…it’s that
one-eyed barn cat from McCray’s.
WEEZY. S’right.
JUNE. How sweet.
WEEZY. Now look around, what else y’see?
JUNE. Umm. That dried creek bed.
WEEZY. Yeah?
JUNE. The markers.
WEEZY. What else?
(Beat.)
JUNE. (Stunned.) I see Amy.
WEEZY. Is she happy?
(Pause.)
JUNE. (Taking it in – overwhelmed.) She is…
WEEZY. Good. Good. Keep walkin.
(JUNE keeps “walking.” Something unnerves
her.)
JUNE. It’s black.
WEEZY. Don’t stop here.
JUNE. God.
WEEZY. Keep. Walkin.
90 ALABASTER

JUNE. I can’t. It’s blocked.

WEEZY. Push.
JUNE. It’s blocked!
WEEZY. PUSH!!!
(Pause.)
JUNE. OK…
WEEZY. Got it?
JUNE. It’s clearin.
WEEZY. Yeah?
JUNE. (Nodding.) It’s clearin.
(Beat.)
It’s…there’s a light.
WEEZY. A light?
JUNE. (An awakening.) I can see the pasture…
WEEZY. Keep walkin.
JUNE. OK.
WEEZY. Now what?
JUNE. The meadow…
WEEZY. Look all around.
JUNE. (Part enthralled, part awkward.) I don’t know what
I’m doin!
WEEZY. Imagine the most beautiful thing.
JUNE. The most – OK, like what?
WEEZY. Whatever you want.
JUNE. (Agitated.) I’m supposed to imagine somethin I’ve
never imagined before?
WEEZY. Do it.
JUNE. I –
(WEEZY reaches for JUNE’s hand. They are
now side by side, hand in hand, looking out
at “the picture” JUNE is “painting” in her
imagination. JUNE settles.)
WEEZY. (Tenderly.) Put yourself in a picture.
 ALABASTER 91

JUNE. A picture? I –
(Pause.)
(Digging in now.)
I’m walkin.
WEEZY. (Sweetly.) Good, good, where?
JUNE . (Somewhat urgently.) I don’t know, a road
somewhere. It’s mornin, early mornin, and there’s fog
but it’s liftin. There’s a field on the right. With horses,
Appaloosa.
WEEZY. Are you still walkin?
JUNE. I’m walkin. The pavement is black as pitch and the
stripin is new. I don’t know this road, it’s some road,
somewhere not in Alabama.
WEEZY. How do you know?
JUNE. I feel it. It’s far. It’s far away.
(WEEZY is visibly moved. As JUNE gains
momentum, WEEZY slowly falls apart.)
WEEZY. (Emotional.) Is it beautiful?
JUNE. (Profoundly moved.) Oh…yes. It is.
WEEZY. How?
JUNE. It’s…it’s open. It’s wide open…there’s…mountains
maybe, faint purple mountains. And a crevasse. Like
where a glacier used to hang. I’m in a watercolor. Wow…
(Pause.)
Now there’s a car. It’s comin toward me.
WEEZY. What color?
JUNE. I can’t – yellow. Bright yellow, like from another
paintin.
(Amused.)
I’m in another paintin, no, I’m in the same paintin.
WEEZY. (Mostly to herself.) You’re laughin.
JUNE. Oh, my God, it’s Bennie Heartsill from third grade
and she’s drivin a car, but she’s still in third grade, how
is she drivin a car?
92 ALABASTER

(More laughter from JUNE.)

Oh, she’s pullin over. She’s almost crashed. She cannot
drive that car. Oh, I see now, she’s sittin on a pile of
encyclopedias! She looks exactly the same, except her
hair is crimson red.
(Pause.)
WEEZY. (To the audience.) It’s not not love to walk away.
JUNE. What on Earth is she doin here?
WEEZY. (To the audience.) Hate me if you need to. I need
nothin but a sense of good direction.
JUNE. She’s pullin me into the car now, she’s laughin.
WEEZY. (To the audience – pointedly.) I leave everything
I gave. And that’s a lot.
JUNE. Wow…she hasn’t changed a bit.
(WEEZY releases JUNE’s hand, kisses her
matter-of-factly on the forehead and exits
with a quickness.)
(JUNE reacts to the sudden absence of WEEZY.
She reaches into the void for WEEZY’s hand but
she knows now that WEEZY is gone for good.
She is distraught but she tries desperately to
stay on task.)
(Faltering.) We’re…we’re in this old beat up yellow
convertible. Five-speed.
(Gaining strength now…pushing through.)
The top is down and there’s music. On the radio.
(As if transported by angels…)
We’re off now and we’re drivin.
Drivin. Fast.
(A sharp inhale – as if seeing the face of
God…)
Into the sun!
 ALABASTER 93

Scene Three

(A few hours later.)

(ALICE enters JUNE’s bedroom carrying items
from a shopping trip. She sets them down
and sits on the edge of the bed, bags packed.
JUNE enters and stands in the doorway. The
following exchange occurs with ALICE’s back
to JUNE.)
ALICE. This is nothing like Bridges of Madison County.
(Beat.)
It’s not.
JUNE. How? How is it not? Farm girl, photographer, one
hot weekend and now you’re at the light with your
blinker on and I’m back here in your rear-view mirror.
ALICE. You can’t do Bridges. And that’s an awfully
convenient comparison. I asked you to come with me.
JUNE. (Proving her point.) Clint Eastwood.
ALICE. OK, first of all, you’re not married. Or are you? Are
you a Polish housewife?
JUNE. Polish?
ALICE. Meryl Streep.
JUNE. She wasn’t Polish she was Italian*.
ALICE. What?
JUNE. She was Italian.
(Now turning to look at JUNE.)
ALICE. I thought she was Polish.
JUNE. She always sounds Polish.
ALICE. Who does?
JUNE. Meryl Streep!
ALICE. (Thinking.) Oh, oh, yeah, she does.
(Moving on. Begin rapid fire.)

* Pronounced: EYE-tal-yun.
94 ALABASTER

(Words tumbling.) OK, not married. Not a lonely Polish-

EYE-tal-yun-American house wife. Meryl Streep had
the whole thing, OK, the husband, the kids, all that
shit, she had too much to lose. And furthermore, it’s
not raining.
JUNE. What? Oh, not / rainin, not rainin.
ALICE. (Overlapping.) In the movie, on the day he drove
away from her. / Not raining, June.
JUNE. (Overlapping.) OK, that was a directorial decision,
and therefore, I don’t think you’re allowed to count that
one, Alice. Otherwise and aside from the downpour, it’s
just like Bridges of Madison County.
(End rapid fire. Pause.)
ALICE. I don’t know what it is…
(Beat.)
JUNE. You have feelins for me?
(Beat.)
What kind of feelins?
ALICE. The scary kind?
JUNE. I see.
(ALICE takes a deep breath.)
ALICE. OK, two things. The first one’s hard.
JUNE. Well don’t drag it out, just say it.
ALICE. JUNE.
I am, would you – Quick, like a band-aid.
Shhhhhhhut-it…
(JUNE settles.)
ALICE. It goes like this. I selfishly wish that you would come
with me for reasons that may or may not be smart or
healthy or ethical even. OK? So that’s out loud. Was
that out loud?
JUNE. Sooo out loud.
 ALABASTER 95

ALICE. Great. And. Also. Atlanta. Birmingham. I’ll drop you

off at a damn Texaco, wherever. It’s just really really
important, June, that you not do this anymore.
(Pause.)
What do you have to lose, exactly? A day, a few nights
in really cool city? What does that cost you?
(ALICE retrieves the travel books from the
shelf.)
Pick one.
(JUNE takes the travel books from ALICE and
throws them across the room.)
(Beat.)
(A half joke.) It’s a good start.
(Pause.)
You do understand what this is, right? If I leave here
without you, you die.
JUNE. WhatEVER.
ALICE. And that’s not an exaggeration, you’ve got one foot
in the grave already. The barn is gone, June.
(Referring to the piles of wood.) This is not a barn
anymore, it’s a coffin. I can’t leave you here to rot away
and / bury yourself, I won’t do it.
JUNE. (Overlapping.) These are the days of our lives…
ALICE. Everything is a joke to you.
JUNE. No, just the shit you / say.
ALICE. (Overlapping.) You’re hard to love, ya know that?
(Beat.)
We get in my rental, we drive away from here together.
A hundred and forty miles. It’s a start. And if you don’t
like it, you can take a cab right home, OK? That’s a
good deal. You should really take it.
(ALICE retrieves the gold cross necklace and
hands it to JUNE.)
96 ALABASTER

JUNE. Mama’s cross. Where was this?

ALICE. Out back, in the grass.
(JUNE takes a moment to touch the object
and warm it with her hands. She puts the
necklace on.)
JUNE. (Heartfelt.) Thank you.
(Pause.)
I need to apologize for somethin. That stuff I said
about you comin on to me, or whatever, it was wrong
for me to say that, for a lotta reasons, yes, I was angry
and yes, I was tryin to hurt you but that’s not even it.
What you’re doin is important. What you’re doin with
these women is really, really necessary and I’m not
even talkin about the photographs, I mean yes, they’re
beautiful and you exalt these women and I think that
that’s amazin but it’s somethin else, Alice, I’ve been
thinkin about it and I figured it out. You have this
thing in you, this gift. It’s how you see people, Alice.
I don’t know how you do it, but it’s amazin. And this
thing now with these women…and the way that you
come to where we are and you see “it” and you see us
and you see how broken we are and you see the beauty
instead and you tell us that we’re beautiful and not for
one second did I think I was beautiful, in my whole
life nobody ever said I was beautiful, but you did and
I won’t ever be the same after that. And I don’t want
to make this about me, this is so much bigger than
me, and this is nothin like Bridges of Madison County,
although it kind of is but not really – I don’t expect to
run away with you, I know that’s not what this is – I
just… I want you to know how grateful I am.
(Beat.)
I’m so grateful…
(Pause.)
ALICE. I want you to give me your hand and walk with me
out of this house.
 ALABASTER 97

JUNE. So easy.
ALICE. No…
JUNE. What am I supposed to do in Atlanta while you’re
takin pictures? Is there a giant ball of twine or
somethin’?
ALICE. Atlanta doesn’t give a shit.
(ALICE pulls out a travel-sized art kit that she
purchased for JUNE and hands it to her.)
JUNE. (Reading the label.) Travel size.
ALICE. I got maps, I got this weird – it’s like a third grade
atlas… probably – and I got you six of these…
(She hands her a handful of art journals.)
for sketches. I bought every one they had. You’re not
going to believe this but that’s the first time I’ve ever
been inside a Wal-Mart.
(Beat.)
It was pretty much like Christmas. Adderall Christmas.
(JUNE looks down at the kit again. She opens
it and a little trinket falls out. She retrieves
it.)
Oh, that’s from a gum ball machine. It’s a baby
elephant. For luck.
(JUNE returns the baby elephant to the travel
kit and touches a few of the contents with her
fingers. She is overcome.)
(JUNE walks over to ALICE. She pauses. She
touches ALICE’s hair.)
(She touches ALICE’s face, tracing the details
of her skin as if committing them to memory.
She kisses ALICE tenderly on the lips. ALICE
kisses her back. They release.)
(JUNE hands the travel kit back to ALICE.)
JUNE. Be safe.
98 ALABASTER

(JUNE exits.)
(ALICE sets the travel kit and journals on
the night stand. She notices the newly-
completed painting: two figures, wrapped in
an embrace. ALICE becomes emotional and
has a quiet moment to herself before leaving
a note on JUNE’s pillow. She gathers up her
bags to walk out. Just as ALICE turns to leave,
JUNE enters the room wearing a colorful
windbreaker and carrying a suitcase.)
(Beat.)
I’m back.
(Beat.)
ALICE. (Amused.) You’re giving me a suitcase?
JUNE. (Nervously.) Did you need one?
This one has a mouth wash…like a Listerine stain…in
the inside pocket – Atlanta doesn’t give a shit.
ALICE. I’ve never been to Atlanta.
(Beat.)
JUNE. It’s big.
ALICE. I’ve heard.
(ALICE demonstrates the calming breath. JUNE
inhales through her nose and out through her
mouth. They inhale – .)
(Interrupting cellphone: ALICE’s cell rings
with the same VERY UNPLEASANT
RINGTONE. ALICE lets it ring twice.)
JUNE. Second hardest thing you’ll ever do.
ALICE. I can’t.
JUNE. You can.
(Beat.)
You can.
(The phone continues to ring.)
 ALABASTER 99

(ALICE takes a deep breath and answers the

phone.)
ALICE. (As she answers the phone – to JUNE.) I hate you.
(To the caller.) Hello?
(Long pause.)
Hi, Dad.
(Beat.)
I’m not crying, you’re crying.
(Lights fade.)

End of Play
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