Lorca – Rehearsal Tracks, Sides & Lyrics

LORCA: Side 1 ( from Act 1 – Scene 8 )

LORCA

(looking at Neal with concern)

Do you really believe there’s nothing? That after you die, you just… disappear or something?

NEAL

Yep. Poof! Gone! Just like that. I’m actually looking forward to it.

LORCA

How depressing!

NEAL

I don’t think so.

LORCA

Well, my life hasn’t been peaches and tulips, but I’d still like to stick around and see if I can’t make it better. You sound as if you’re giving up already.

NEAL

Not giving up, giving in—to peace and quiet. I won’t have to be frustrated about things I can’t do anything about—chemical waste pouring into rivers, high-powered towers that fry your brains, foods filled with neurotoxins and plastics…

LORCA

But to not be anymore, just poof! nothing…

STEPHANIE

I don’t think we just disappear. I believe there’s a real place called heaven where we can be with God forever.

GREG

Heaven’s not a bad idea—pink clouds, angels singing, streets of gold, perfect bodies—heavenly bodies.

NEAL

Hey, maybe it’s like in video games. The more points you have, the more power you get. Level One: Flight, Level Two: You get to direct sunsets for a week…

STEPHANIE

You’re both making fun of something you know nothing about.

GREG

Not really. If that’s what you want, dream on. Me? I wish I could believe in it, but I don’t need to comfort myself with some fabricated—

STEPHANIE

I don’t believe it’s fabricated, Greg.

GREG

Aw, don’t worry about it. We’ll find out for sure soon enough. In the meantime, we can enjoy today—or tonight, as the case may be. After all, we know, for now, we’re okay.

LORCA

Maybe.

GREG

What do you mean, maybe? Lorca, you’re such a harbinger of doom.

LORCA

I’m just being realistic. You and Neal seem to be able to goof around and have a jolly time—as if we’re at camp or something. You don’t seem to realize that we are terminally ill. We are going to die—D-I-E—and soon. Have you even read the description of DeShores’?

NEAL

I have. I didn’t care for it much. I decided to have a different disease—one with more symptoms, but less pain.

LORCA

A different disease! What’s wrong with you, Neal?

NEAL

Well, I used to have DeShores’, but now I have acid reflux.

LORCA

You’re insufferable!

NEAL

Look, everybody’s going to die someday. It’s the consequence of life.

LORCA

But we have a terminal disease.

NEAL

Life is a terminal disease.

LORCA

Let me put it another way. This is not like having detention; we have a death sentence. Others may be serving life imprisonment with no hope of parole, but we’re heading for the electric chair, or however they do it these days. We’re already on our way down that last mile.

GREG

And none of us will get out alive.

NEAL

I’ve thought about that. I’d rather have lethal injection. Electrocution sounds so messy.

Lorca gets up and walks toward the boys, frowning.

LORCA

I can’t believe it! You guys still aren’t taking this seriously.

She hurls her book at Greg, who catches it and gets back on his bed, glancing through it while she continues to speak.

LORCA

Think about it. We’ve already been here four months. Do you understand what that means? If Dr. Carey doesn’t find a cure, we only have a little while left… That’s all. And you two spend your time playing Death Drop.

GREG

What do you think we should do? Sit here and wait for the next symptom to hit? That would drive me crazy!

LORCA

I think you’re making a big mistake. If you don’t pay attention, you won’t be prepared for whatever comes next.

GREG

If I obsess on it the way you do, I’ll die a thousand deaths. Who wants to live like that?

Lorca goes back to her bed.

LORCA

I simply want to know what to expect.

STEPHANIE

You can always ask Dr. Carey. She knows more about it than anyone else on the planet.

LORCA

She brushes me off. She never even looks at me. I feel like a lab rat.

STEPHANIE

But she’s very diligent. She checks on us all the time.

LORCA

But does she really care about us, or are we a project? A cause? A quest?

STEPHANIE

I think she’s been nicer lately.

LORCA

I think she’s got a boyfriend, so she’s caught up in that romantic swill. We just happen to get the fallout.

GREG

Why are you so hostile toward anything romantic? You reject everything that even hints at it.

Greg gets up and starts toward Lorca, waving her book in the air.

GREG (CONT’D)

Oh, and, by the way, ladies and gentlemen, this woman of reason, this passionless rationalist, reads sappy love stories.

Greg tosses the book back to Lorca.

LORCA

(catching her book)

They happen to be literary classics.

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LORCA: Side 2 ( from Act 1 – Scene 9 )

LIGHTS COME UP IN SUNSET COLORS.

Stephanie is in a hospital gown sleeping peacefully under her covers.

The boys are not there.

Lorca stands painting at her easel DSC in front of the window. At her feet is a jar of water and a rag.

Quietly, Greg enters the room DSR and checks on Stephanie, then steps over to where Lorca is painting.

GREG

That’s really beautiful!

LORCA

I thought you were going to play Death Drop in the Dayroom with Neal.

GREG

I was, but I couldn’t get into the game. I wanted to be here.

(He turns and looks at Stephanie.)

Boy, the poor thing is really out of it. I’m glad she’s going to be okay.

LORCA

(curtly)

No thanks to you.

GREG

So now you’re blaming me? Like I forced her? She wanted to go.

LORCA

Give me a break, Greg. Stephanie would never do something like that on her own.

GREG

What? Eat pizza!?

LORCA

No! Sneak out of the hospital and do something that jeopardizes her condition.

GREG

It was just pizza!

LORCA

It’s just pizza to the rest of the world, not to us. We’re on a strict diet because we’re seriously ill and our systems are fragile. Can’t you understand that? Every little thing we do, or don’t do, makes a huge difference. You went through the screening process. You know what’s expected of us, and you agreed to it. If you can’t handle it, why don’t you just leave?

Turning away from him, she furiously swirls her brush in the water jar and lays it flat on the rag.

GREG

Hey, maybe you didn’t have a life before this, but I did, and excuse me if I’m finding it a little hard to let go of it. I thought if I could just get out and do something normal I would feel, I don’t know… normal… like I wasn’t sick anymore. There’s nothing wrong with wanting to be free from that for a while.

LORCA

So you break the rules to what, be free? The rules that are there to help you? Maybe keep you alive longer?

GREG

Living longer isn’t living, Lorca. Real life has spark, energy, adventure. I’m tired of having no future. The way things are now, I don’t even have a present. I can’t survive in this box. I’ve gotta break out, even if it kills me.

LORCA

And it just might.

GREG

I don’t care. I had dreams. I was supposed to travel the world, find the perfect woman, settle down and raise a family, and be an old man with lots of grandkids—not waste away in a little room eating perfect food just so I can live a few days longer. So I say, “Eat, drink, and be merry, for tomorrow we die.”

LORCA

Not me. I want to grasp life at its depth.

GREG

What does that mean? It sounds deep. Did you make it up?

LORCA

No. It’s from Vincent Van Gogh.

GREG

The ear-chopping guy? He didn’t grasp life. He couldn’t even handle it. He killed himself.

LORCA

That’s not the point. He faced his troubles fiercely. He didn’t run away or try to pretend they weren’t there. You can see it in his paintings—pure true colors exposed naked and unabashed with no apologies. Out of his turmoil he made masterpieces.

GREG

He only sold one painting his whole life.

LORCA

You don’t get it. He didn’t choose the easy way. He was willing to really look at the hardships and sorrows of life, wrestling them into images of breathtaking beauty. That’s how I want to approach my remaining days. Whatever comes, I want to face it head-on with my eyes wide open. I want to embrace it, even the suffering. That way, it’s my choice.

LIGHTS TO BLACK.