#9: IT WAS HER PARTY

(Philadelphia. The morning after a huge party at BETSY'S house. Lights up on BETSY and the DRUNKEN NEIGHBOR WHO SPENT THE NIGHT ON THE COUCH:)

BETSY: What a great night last night was. So many people came to my party.
DRUNKEN NEIGHBOR WHO SPENT THE NIGHT ON THE COUCH: I drank too much ale. Who came Betsy?
BETSY: (reciting from memory) Mr. MacPherson, Mr. Heysham, Mr. Wilcox, Mr. Bushell, Ms. Ashburn, Leslie, the Dorsey's, John Gardin, Buchard 1: Andrew Buchard, Buchard 2: Thomas Buchard, Mr. Neil Cummins, Mr. Claypoole, Widow Ford, Harvey Sampson - THAT DRUNK! - William Sellers, Mr. Owen, Ms. Jacob, Ms. Crysler, William Heysham, Mr. Alexander Wilcox - I think I alreasdy said him - John Gibbons, William Ashby, age 97, James Wilson and wife, William Niles and mistress, Jonathan Worrell, Mr. Wing - Oh, I so wish he left earlier! - Thomas Carmalt, Mary Smith - boring name if you ask me - Mr. William Montgomery, Joseph B. McKean, Esq., James Lewis, Widow Gideon and that weird guy Joseph.
DNWSTNOTC: Who was after Mr. Owen?
BETSY: Ms. Jacob.
DNWSTNOTC: Ashby's 97?
BETSY: Last Tuesday.
DNWSTNOTC: You're a social butterfly Betsy.
BETSY: Um, thanks. I think.
DNWSTNOTC: It's good. People know you.
BETSY: Mr. Wing was snooping in my jewelry and personal things. Well at least that's what Jon Worrell told John Gibbons.
DNWSTNOTC: Who told you.
BETSY: Bingo. I swear if as much as a cent's worth of anything is missing from this house, I am blaming him.
DNWSTNOTC: Him?
BETSY: Wing!

(Pause.)

DNWSTNOTC: Come lie with me on the sofa.
BETSY: Philip! You still smell like ale!
DNWSTNOTC: Please?
BETSY: I have to clean up and there's-
DNWSTNOTC: Please...

(Pause. BETSY's tone changes.)

BETSY: Butterfly? Nice try.
DNWSTNOTC: I just think it's time.
BETSY: Oh do you? John's been gone less than a year.
DNWSTNOTC: And a year is a long time. Everyone at the party thinks it's time.
BETSY: Well, I'm glad you took a vote. What - is every goddamn thing done with democracy now? Real nice Philip.
DNWSTNOTC: We just think you could afford to move on.
BETSY: Move on? How does one move on from a gunpowder explosion. Enlighten me.
DNWSTNOTC: Betsy, you say it as if you were there.
BETSY: Look, I saw him. You didn't.
DNWSTNOTC: You can't use John's death as an excuse forever. Get out and do something. Enough with the parties.
BETSY: You like my parties.
DNWSTNOTC: I just think it's time you moved on, that's all I'm saying B.

(Pause.)

BETSY: I'm going to go clean up in the kitchen. Mr. Bushel punctured a grain bag and I don't want it to stick.
DNWSTNOTC: I'll be here on the couch. When you get back.
BETSY: I can't Philip.
DNWSTNOTC: Okay. But I'll be here.

(Pause.)

BETSY: I have to go sweep up grain. Thanks for coming to the party.

(BETSY exits to the kitchen. DRUNKEN NEIGHBOR WHO SPENT THE NIGHT ON THE COUCH lies back down on the couch and stares at the ceiling.)

BLACKOUT