In a Sea of Blue

Scene 1:

Time: 2:15 after school, Connecticut 2007

Scene: A simple classroom with four desks spaced across the stage

At Rise: RUTH, KEN, and GARY each sit at a desk. KEN is fidgeting

GARY:

Ken, you are just so annoyingly twitchy, you’re tickin’ me off. Look, she’s just a new student joining the debate club.

KEN:

As the president of this club, I’m supposed to care! This Eleanor Hawkins is from Texas… George Bush’s Texas.

GARY:

As apposed to everyone else’s Texas?

Ken:

She doesn’t think like us, talk like us, act like us. I mean, we’re talking Re-Pub-Li-Can… people! I may need to organize a committee to discuss installing a metal detector at the door… just for her!

GARY:

What, like she’s got a metal plate in her head?

Ruth:

They do own guns in that state after all. And kill poor, defenseless woodland inhabitants with reckless abandon, for sport!

GARY:

Another member would be nice… It’s only been us three kids since freshman year.

RUTH:

Kenneth, If you’re so worried, why don’t we just, I don’t know… not let her join?

KEN:

Ha-ha, this is why I’M club president. Because Ruthy, doing so would show that we are not tolerant, or that I’m intimidated by opposition, which I am NOT. Bring it on I say! Bring. It. On!

Gary:

You mean… another point of view? Good God! In the debating Club?? Never…!

Ruth:

Glad you’re not nervous, because I am…

KEN:

Not to worry Ruthy. What could we possibly be nervous about? We are secure I tell you. Secure in our opinions. Secure in the knowledge that we are right. That ever since my older brother set this club up three years ago, I have always dreamed of upholding its prestigious reputation of open minded Liberalism.

GARY:

What reputation? We’re almost less popular than the chess club.

RUTH: (seriously)

Everyone loves the chess club. I can just picture it now… The auditorium jam-packed, hanging on the edge of their seats, waiting for reclusive sweaty teen number one get out of check. That’s how I like to spend MY weekends.

KEN:

My point, exactly!

ELLE enters and stands by the empty desk. There is a lengthy pause.

ELLE:

Please, please, stop the applause. It’s killing me!

KEN looks down at piece of paper on his desk and back up.

KEN:

You’re Eleanor Hawkins? Sorry for not noticing sooner. You’re… Native American.

(beat)

From Texas! (more to himself) This could be excellent!

ELLE:

That’s ok Keen-ass, I mean, Kenneth.

(beat)

That’s right. I’m the new girl and Native American AND from Texas.

KEN:

You don’t mean… Republican Texas.

GARY:

Dun, dun, dun…

ELLE: (gasps)

Is he always this quick? What gave it away? The fact that it’s on that sheet of paper?

(beat)

So… Where do I sit?

KEN:

We don’t have any assigned seating in this association. To do so would be to show favoritism and possibly breed animosity among the members.

ELLE:

Sweet corn on rye! What have I gotten myself into?

RUTH:

You may pick any chair you like, as long as at every meeting you pick a different chair, to make things fair.

GARY:

There’s only four of us… Granted, more than we’ve had in two years.

ELLE:

And I was worried I would only be but mere grain of sand on the vast beach that is the debating team…

GARY:

Yes, I know it’s hard to be so popular, we try to cope.

KEN:

Wait a minute. I’m sensing a moment between you two…

ELLE:

Perish the thought El Presedente.

GARY:

Right on my Native American Sistah…

KEN puts head in hands

RUTH:

What’s wrong Ken? Are you struggling with internal issues?

KEN:

No Ruth, it’s more complicated than that.

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