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CHAPTER 1

ACT I

Scene One Christmas Eve morning, 2004.

The Wyeth living room. There is a metal fireplace, one of those Scandinavian flying saucer types from the sixties, giving off a nice glow. Desert-French regency is the style, decorated for movie stars circa 1965, but somehow it still works, perhaps better now than it did in its time.

A game of mixed doubles has just ended. BROOKE WYETH, an attractive and dry woman, her oak-like father, LYMAN, who is sturdy in the way of old Californians of a particular type. Brook's younger brother, TRIP, a bright, funny man, perhaps a decade her junior, and her mother, elegant and forthright and whip-smart POLLY. They are still tired, recovering from the game. In easy, good spirits.

Polly All I am saying Brooke is that I don't know how the hell you stand those East Coast winters, and in that little village of yours out there on the edge of the sea, it's just, it really makes us worry —

Brooke(laughing) Sag Harbor is really cozy, it's quiet, it's peaceful, my God, I've been here less than three hours and you're starting in on me? About where I live?

Lyman What your mother is saying is that closer to home — we would love to have you closer to home —

Trip I can't believe you're doing this. Mom, Dad — she split. She gave up on California, last century. It's not in her blood.

Brooke It really is true, even when I was a little girl, I knew, I just knew I was going to live back east. I couldn't do this — this endless sunshine — this — it's so — predictable!

Lyman But you're a child of California, you grew up with beaches and orange groves —

Brooke And the weather that never changes. I need seasons to mark where I am. Last winter I was still pretty blue, as you know, but this odd thing — when spring started to just hint — those crazy flowers popping up out of the snow — it matched where I was, I was coming out of it. My winter. I was popping up too.

A moment.

Polly I think you might have that thing where the winter is part of what makes you blue, really, have you ever thought of that?

Brooke I am fine, I'm — is this what this trip is gonna be?

Trip Brooke. The house next door? It's for sale. They want us to have it. (mock horror) They want us here ALL THE TIME!

Trip pretends to be dying of poison gas. The parents grin. Brooke laughs.

Lyman Yes, we know we bore you two to tears. But ... (beat) Brookie. What if there were another attack? It's a rather likely possibility, isn't it? It's only been a few years. It's only been — I mean —

Brooke(moaning) Here we go.

Trip No, no, no. Let's not do this.

Polly You know, we still have friends in Washington, you wouldn't believe what they don't tell you. Well, we hear it, blood chilling. Arabs with all sorts of plans they're hatching, crazed Indian people with —

Brooke I live in Eastern Long Island, not Times Square, and I refuse to live like some sort of terrified — (beat) This is how you win at tennis, you agitate me — you get me really just — impossibly overheated —

Polly I have no idea what you're talking about. If you have a lousy serve, you have a lousy serve, darling, and if all it takes to win is to tell you that I think this war is entirely justified, well then, you shouldn't be playing tennis.

Polly has a smile on her face. She is having fun, it's light needling.

Brooke(grinning) Do you still own a revolver, dad?

Polly You know I'm not cooking dinner? We're having Christmas Eve at the country club.

Brooke lets out a moan.

Trip Jesus, Mom, who has Christmas at a country club?

Brooke Jews is who has Christmas at a country club. That's why God made country clubs, so half-goy hipsters and their aging parents don't have to cook.

Polly Oh, it's terrific. Stone crab claws, Bloody Marys, chink food, and a mambo band. If you want to stand here slaving over a hot stove in the desert, be my guest. I can't face it anymore.

Brooke(smiling) Did you just say 'chink food'? Cause I'm still stuck back there.

Polly(laughing) Oh stop it! I don't have a bigoted bone in my body, you're just so correct about everything, and if you can't joke in your own home — you're so — I wanna know this; when did everyone get so damn sensitive about every last thing? When?

Brooke Uhm. Around the time you people started using words like "chink" in public, is when.

Lyman You don't like the Palm Springs Country Club? Is there anything about our lives you don't mind? Our politics, our —

Brooke(over him) That country club does not let in —

Polly(over her) Yes they do. Yes they DO! That ended years ago! Stop it!

BrookeDo they? Mom? How many —

Polly Most of the club is! Now. Believe me, I should know!

Brooke Really, please stop talking about it like it's temple Beth Shalom.

Lyman It's a great place, and by the way, we heard Colin Powell lecture there last month and if he's behind the war, you can trust it's the right thing to do. He knows a lot more than you do, Brooke. Most trusted man in America.

Brooke is about to counter this statement, and is halted by Trip.

Trip Look; we talk politics, it's only eight in the morning, the whole day will be shot to shit, really. It will just dissolve into stiff upper-lipped thermonuclear family war.

Lyman(grinning) Can't have that, can we? Look: despite your abhorrent and repugnant lefty politics, we want you to know we're damn proud of you.

Brooke Proud? What did I do?

Lyman Brooke. C'mon. Your book. You sold it to the first people who read it.

Polly Which is a great relief as you will no longer be known as the girl who had only one novel in her.

Brooke(bursts out laughing) Well, I didn't realize I was!

Polly Oh come on, dear, after six years, everyone was beginning to wonder. You did bring it, didn't you?

Beat.

Brooke Yeah, but I have to make copies in town, I wasn't going to carry a bunch of copies on the plane.

Polly We got the craziest call. Someone's doing a vulgar little picture book on old Hollywood nightlife, and they heard we had lots of pictures from Chasen's and the Brown Derby and Ron and Nancy. I said I would be saving them in case I decided to do a book of my own, which I can assure you, I will not. (drinking water) This water needs vodka for flavor.

Lyman picks up the Los Angeles Times.

Lyman(reading) Huh. Look at this: Don Rumsfeld is paying a visit to the troops in Baghdad.

Polly Isn't that a nice thoughtful Christmas present.

Brooke Maybe while he's out in the desert he can dig up some of them weapons of mass destruction —

Trip(over her) NO! No! No discussion of the war. This is a cardinal goddamn rule — we'll be here all day, and I want to get back in time so you can see my show.

He has a sly smile on his face. She looks at him, caught.

Brooke I told you it won't really mean anything to me, I don't watch television —

Trip Well, unless you've suddenly become Amish, that's unbelievably pretentious.

Lyman(grinning) Oh, Brooke, you really have to see it.

Polly It's quite extraordinary really. You've never seen anything quite like it.

Brooke I don't understand even the premise. It's like a court room thing with a — ?

Polly(relishing this) Oh, I can explain. You see — this is what your brother's talents and education have led him to, Brooke: a fake TV courtroom with fake trials featuring roving litigants out to make a buck.

Trip Hey! Jury of Your Peers is a huge hit. It's not fake!

Lyman That man is a real judge?

Trip He's a retired judge from Encino. It's a regular trial, only, the jury is made up of stars.

Polly Stars? Those are not stars! Gary Cooper was a star! These are what appear to be some very moth-eaten, down-on-their luck has-beens.

Trip(to Brooke) Who basically — you know — roast both the — it's very funny — both the defendant and the plaintiff — and render a verdict. And if some of them are midgets, well, why not?

LymanPlease! This is how the law is conducted in this country now? A freak show with carnies making mock.

Trip Dad, come on, it's show biz. Everyone signs a waiver, it's civil court, the show pays.

LymanOh, so there's no harm, no foul, no matter how wrong the person is, the show pays! What is the name of the judge?

Trip(trying not to laugh, looking down) Uhm. Him? He's uh, well, yeah, his name is Judge Myron C. Glimmelman.

The three of them stand there, saying nothing. Polly stifles a derisive snort. Brooke is grinning madly, waiting. Shaking her head.

Polly(shakes her head) Oh, my people, my people, my people.

Trip(a smile) He is a great guy! All moral rectitude and good hair.

Brooke Just like you, Daddy.

Lyman(playing straight man) I would never sell myself like some common —

Brooke(laughing over him) Oh really? Mr. Ambassador?

Trip Respectfully, what was being the spokesman for the California Wine Board?

Lyman Public service, something you know nothing about —

Trip(ala his dad, stentorian) "Drink in the wines —

Trip/Lyman — of the Golden State, and taste how the west was won."

There is laughter. This is an old bit.

Lyman We were trying to promote the state's growing —

Brooke(over him) And let's not forget some of those movies you were in before you sold out and became a politician.

Lyman(laughs) I did not sell out, I found a higher calling, you ungrateful little brat!

Trip Hey. People need to laugh today. It's all so serious and goddamn, you know, horrible out there. We could all get anthraxed any minute — people need a laugh!

Polly It's our fault, Lyman, we failed at providing normalcy — we had two children, and both of them have entirely abnormal careers ...

Brooke(cuts her off, tense) Three, actually.

Polly Excuse me?

There is a moment.

Brooke Three children.

Beat.

Polly Three. Of course.

A slight tension, which Lyman labors to climb over.

Lyman So, Trip, you're basically saying that being right or wrong matters a lot less than being funny.

TripFunny is all we have left. Yes! They flew planes into buildings! People need funny. I can't argue with you about this, if you fail to see the merit in what I do, that's your loss, all of you. We can't all be hopelessly highbrow like Brooke, some of us have to actually make money. I'm gonna take a shower. Breakfast on me.

He leaves.

Lyman What does he mean, 'people flew planes into buildings?' What's that got to do with Jury of Your Peers?

Brooke Hey — Should we wake Aunt Silda, is she joining us for breakfast?

Polly My sister seems to be sleeping 'til noon or so, at least. Ever since she came back from rehab she stays up all night watching old movies.

Brooke Why did she slip? Do you know?

Polly Please. Who knows. She had been doing okay, you know, that's the thing, she had five years sobriety — and she went, just like that.

Polly snaps her fingers.

Brooke How bad is it? Exactly?

Polly The woman's liver needs a liver.

Brooke Owww. So. She's going to live here? With you.

Beat. Polly looks at Lyman and shakes her head in defeat.

Lyman Yes. I insisted.

PollyNot forever. Only for a bit, 'til she's back on her feet and we know she's not going to slip.

Brooke I think she's very lucky to have you looking after her.

Polly Well, she's not getting the same level of care we gave you, believe me. (beat) You're getting your old glow back. See how good it is for you to be out here, darling?

Brooke(laughing) I am NOT moving in next door, forget it!

Lyman smiles.

Lyman It's nice to see you happy, lighter, you seem lighter. Which is very important to us.

Polly To have lightness. I would say nothing is quite as important.

Brooke Lightness is good.

Lyman Yes. And health.

Polly My knees, thank God, it was bone on bone for years, which is why I was such a bitch through the nineties.

Brooke(grinning) That's why, Mom? Your knees? Oh. It was your "knees" that made you so very quarrelsome. And what was it in the seventies? Had I known it was your body ...

Polly I think living on the East Coast has given you the impression that sarcasm is alluring and charming. It is not. Sarcasm is the purview of teenagers and homosexuals.

Brooke Now that I'm single, those are basically my two preferred social groups, so ...

Polly Yes. We got a letter from Cary, telling us he always loved us and he hoped we would still consider him family.

Brooke(a sigh) Please don't. He's not family.

Polly You quit the marriage counseling?

Brooke Well, I mean, yes, it seemed the best idea after Cary stopped showing up.

Polly Did you badger him or something?

Lyman Polly.

Brooke Mom. Mom. Jesus. He's in London.

Polly When did he leave?

Brooke Two months ago. Three. Four.

Polly And you didn't tell us?

Brooke(laughing, exhausted) Look. It's over, Mom. It's been over since it began, really. We had a decent run, three years in marriage these days is like twenty when you guys were kids.

Lyman We hate you being alone.

Brooke I love me being alone.

Polly If you could just find someone like your brother, funny and fun.

Brooke(a burst of laughter) Like Trip Wyeth? The ADD riddled, junk-food-addicted porn-surfing Trip Wyeth, my little brother?

Polly He is not addicted to junk food; he eats very well. The porn, I suppose, I will give you. I mean — someone younger. Cary was too old. Too old and too British, which is the same thing, really. They're all so old, the Brits, even the children. You need someone zippy.

Brooke(laughing) "Someone zippy?" Polly Find someone peppy and youthful. These days, the age difference means nothing. Lyman, apparently it's very hip, very 'with-it' for older women to have younger men. Much younger.

Brooke Stop worrying! I'm fine. Now I'm really hungry, can we go? Can we just for the love of God, go get breakfast?

Polly Yes, yes, fine. I'm going to go get dressed. If you twist my arm, Brooke, we could stop at Saks; because you are never going to meet anyone if you continue to dress like a refugee from a library in Kabul.

Brooke(looks at herself) I'm wearing tennis clothes! To play tennis in!

Polly leaves with her glass, leaving Brooke and Lyman alone.

Lyman Do you have a smoke, we could go outside and sneak?

Brooke Not on my person, Daddy. I thought you quit?

Lyman I did, it's fun to sneak them. Your mother sneaks them too, it's a little game we have. We steal each other's smokes. It is amazing really, what you do to entertain yourself in the desert.

Brooke I have pot for later.

Lyman Are you allowed to smoke pot with the antidepressants?

Brooke Oh, sure, but only with a gin chaser.

Lyman It's not funny, Brooke. It's really not. You're supposed to be careful. Damn it. Really.

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Excerpted from "Other Desert Cities"
by .
Copyright © 2010 Available Light Productions, Inc..
Excerpted by permission of Grove Atlantic, Inc..
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