#22: THE MAN WHO PLANTED TREES

(The woods. BETSY and JOHNNY APPLESEED sit on a log and talk.)

BETSY: Tell me a story Johnny.

JOHHNY: (garbled as he is eating an apple) What kind of story do you want to hear?

BETSY: Chew then talk honey.

JOHHNY: (still garbled) Sorry.

BETSY: Take your time. I'm not going anywhere.

(BETSY smiles. JOHNNY finishes chewing and swallows. BETSY stares at him longingly.)

BETSY: You're so brave. And strong. Going into unknown lands like you did and killing anyone and everyone who stood in your way.

JOHNNY: No. I mean yes, I suppose what I did was brave in a way. But Betsy -

BETSY: I love your muscles!

JOHNNY: You do? Thanks, I don't get that a lot... As I was saying, you have to realize: I've never killed a soul. I never would. I never could.

BETSY: I know that's what you have to say to protect yourself and whoever you work for, but I've heard the tales Johnny A. People talk.

JOHNNY: Mere legends, Betsy.

BETSY: Yes sir, Captain Modesty. I understand. (She whispers flirtatiously) We all have our secrets.

JOHNNY: Legends live and legends breathe. Then people wake up and legends die.

BETSY: Oh my, a warrior and a poet too!

JOHNNY: According to legend an apple started the Trojan war, did you know that? But it didn't. People did.

BETSY: Oh, a scholar! Kidnap me and call me Helen!

JOHNNY: Huh what?

BETSY: There are so many apples in your bag Johnny Appleseed.

(BETSY grabs an apple and takes a huge bight. She chews it slowly.)

JOHNNY: The Bible never even mentions an apple in the Garden, just a fruit. It wasn't until Renaissance painters starting painting apples that we began to tell the story that way. People just change history - religion even! - to make it their own. Who can say what's even real?

BETSY: (garbled as she is still chewing) A warrior, a poet, a scholar, and philosopher too. Betsy likes.

JOHNNY: You give me too much credit. I plant seeds Betsy. I walk around, I dig holes and I plant seeds with some skewed hope that they'll become trees. You seem to think I'm some suave Don Juan or Herakles. I'm not Michelangelo. I'm John Chapman. All I do, all I've done is plant goddamn apple seeds. Pardom my language. It's great that you think I'm something more, but when I kneel down and splash my face in the Mississippi River do you know who stares back at me? A tall and lanky introvert from Leominster, Massachusetts named Appleseed. When my day comes and I'm standing on a cloud before the pearly Gates, I'm not sure if a lifetime of planting fruit tress is going to have done me much good. At least you've actually accomplished something measurable, something tangible.

BETSY: Apples are tangible!

JOHNNY: People eat apples. Squirrels eat apples. Worms. Apples get made into pies.

BETSY: I love apple pie. Almost as much as I love -

JOHHNY: You're not even listening. You could never understand.

BETSY: Tell me what was it was like to take a human life.
JOHNNY: Have you heard a single word that I've spoken to you Betsy?

BETSY: You're so wise and strong. A legend for the ages.

(Pause.)

JOHNNY: Hade me my oversized sack of apples. I should be leaving now.

BETSY: I like when you play hard to get.

(JOHNNY sighs, grabs his apples and walks towards the forrest. He pauses for a moment.)

JOHNNY: Did you know the poison of a single appleseed is harmless to a human if consumed, but if enough appleseeds are ingested one would experience the toxic effects?

BETSY: A scientist too! Johnny Appleseed, is there anything you can't do?

(JOHNNY disappears into the trees. BETSY bights into her apple.)

BETSY: Yuck. A worm.

(She chucks it into the woods and exits.)

BLACKOUT