Eight

(an urban-blight convenience store. A female CLERK sits behind the counter reading a magazine. She has a gunshot wound in her shoulder that's still smoking)

(The door "dings" and LUCY enters.)

CLERK: Hi.

LUCY: Hi. Ten dollars on pump four, please.

CLERK: Anything else?

LUCY: Yeah. That donut and a pack of gum.

CLERK: Comin' right up.

LUCY: Something's burning... Is that a gunshot wound?

CLERK: (Suddenly remembering it:) Damn kids. Hand me those band aids, will you?

(CLERK digs around in the wound, pulls out the bullet, and drops it on the counter with a "clink")

CLERK: (As she cleans with wound:) You know, I got so busy I forgot all about this.

LUCY: Doesn't it hurt?

CLERK: Not like the first time.

LUCY: You get shot a lot?

CLERK: Here, here, here, here, here twice, here, and here.

LUCY: Aren't you afraid?

CLERK: Of what?

LUCY: Dying.

CLERK: No. I am not afraid of Death. To accept this job is to look Death in the eye and say, "Fuck you. Either buy something or get outta my face, Death. No loitering. No shoes, no shirt, no service, Death. Restroom reserved for patrons only. More your car - it's blocking the fire lane, Death. If you're gonna read the magazine, you gotta pay for it. No change without purchase, Death." Everyday. That's what it's like.

LUCY: Have you actually seen a dead person?

CLERK: Other than in here?

LUCY: Yeah.

CLERK: My grandpa died when I was six. But that's different.

LUCY: Different from what?

CLERK: Different from when they die because you shot them between the chips and the Ho-Hos.

LUCY: I suppose. Hey, can I have the key to the restroom?

CLERK: (Handing it over:) Knock yourself out.

LUCY: Thanks.

(She exits.)

(The door dings and THAT WOMAN enters.)

CLERK: Hi.

WOMAN: Hi. Um. Pack of Camel lights. Matches. A Milky Way. And a state map. Ohio, right?

CLERK: Oklahoma.

WOMAN: Birthplace of James Dean?

CLERK: You're thinking of Indiana.

WOMAN: Yeah. Hey. Nice entrance wound.

CLERK: Thanks. Anything else?

WOMAN: How 'bout a Pudding Pop and... Got any phosphorus?

(CLERK places a glowing jar on the counter.)

CLERK: Last jar.

WOMAN: Great.

CLERK: Selling like hotcakes ever since...

(CLERK gives THAT WOMAN a very arch look.)

WOMAN: What?

CLERK: Ever since...

(CLERK grabs a tabloid and flips through till she finds a picture.)

CLERK: You're her, aren't you?

WOMAN: Who?

CLERK: That Woman! That Woman! I thought so. You poisoned all those guys. Used phosphorus on a couple of them. You started a real trend with that one.

WOMAN: I used freon a few times, too.

CLERK: But phosphorus is so much cooler.

WOMAN: It's a fast but fantastical death.

CLERK: You're the first celebrity I've ever had in here. Oh God, my hair.

WOMAN: You look fine.

CLERK: Oh, God, thanks.

(The door dings and LUCY returns and hands over the key.)

LUCY: Thanks. Hey. Is that... phosphorus?

(The CLERK directs LUCY's attention to THAT WOMAN with a cough or a look.)

LUCY: Is it really you? 

CLERK: It's her!

LUCY: I can't believe it's you!

CLERK: Neither can I!

LUCY: The Pretty Poisoner!

CLERK: The Terminal Traveler!

LUCY: The Lethal Lover!

CLERK: The Kiss-n-Killer!

LUCY: The Dame of Death!

WOMAN: That's me.

CLERK: That's her.

LUCY: Wow.

CLERK: Wow.

LUCY: Wow.

CLERK: Wow.

LUCY: I'm... overwhelmed. I think you are beautiful and incredible and brilliant.

WOMAN: Why?

LUCY: Because you are... fearless.

WOMAN: Just because I kill people with no regard for the consequences?

LUCY: But you don't kill people. You avenge. You aspire. 

CLERK: Totally.

WOMAN: I'm a walking tabloid. I'm an icon for the demented. I'm inhuman. I'm alone.

CLERK: I close in five minutes.

LUCY: But you're a genius.

CLERK: If you want anything else...

WOMAN: Yes.

CLERK: You want something else?

LUCY: Yes.

CLERK: Help yourself...

WOMAN: I want.

LUCY: I want.

(They can eventually start to overlap.)

WOMAN: I want to lose five pounds.

LUCY: I want a dimple right here.

WOMAN: I want night vision.

LUCY: I want blue eyes.

WOMAN: I want altitude.

LUCY: I want fuel.

WOMAN: I want to break the law of falling bodies.

LUCY: I want to spin on the axis.

WOMAN: I want my own new moon.

LUCY: I want to shake across fault lines.

WOMAN: I want to power to the nth.

LUCY: I want to solve you for me.

WOMAN: Solve for x.

LUCY: Stop.

WOMAN: Accelerate.

LUCY: Wait.

WOMAN: A body in motion continues in motion unless-

LUCY: I want to follow you.

WOMAN: -unless acted upon by another force.

LUCY: I want to follow you.

(Silence)

LUCY: Let me follow you.

WOMAN: I have to go.

LUCY: Let me go a little way with you.

WOMAN: No.

LUCY: Please.

WOMAN: Get lost, Gidget.

LUCY: I'll call the police.

WOMAN: Fine.

LUCY: I'll tell them I saw you.

WOMAN: Go ahead.

(THAT WOMAN exits. The door dings.)

CLERK: Nice try.

LUCY: Think I scared her?

CLERK: Think you could scare anyone?

LUCY: Good point.

CLERK: You in her fan club?

LUCY: No.

CLERK: (Pulling out a clipboard:) Wanna be?

LUCY: I'm not really a... fan. I don't think.

CLERK: Well, you're something.

LUCY: Just obsessed.

CLERK: People love her. The hang wreaths on what used to be her lab door.

LUCY: I heard that.

CLERK: You have to admit, she has a certain je ne sais quoi.

LUCY: Do you think she'd ever let love stop her?

CLERK: Nah.

LUCY: Think she'll settle down?

CLERK: She's be too bored.

LUCY: Think so?

CLERK: I'm closing.

LUCY: What if she stops?

CLERK: She can't.

(CLERK exits.)

LUCY:  Her life. My life. We wind around. 

           Double helix into each other. I'll see her again. 

           I'm learning her topography. 

           I'm learning her mother tongue. 

           We're in the land where want is a four letter word. 

           So is love. 

           So is move.