ACT TWO
Scene Twenty-two:
"Somewhere"
Inside the City Morgue, a cold storage room, late at night. The light fixtures buzzed incessantly, casting harsh light around the stale room.
There were two corpses on gurneys, covered by white sheets. Mel entered the room, wearing a black dress and hugging a black shawl around her shoulders. The detective that escorted her in stood near the door and watched her as an assistant coroner uncovered the first body to the neck.
Her skin was pale. Her eyelids and thin lips were sealed closed. Her face expressionless.
It was Jinx.
Mel recognized her, but she shook her head 'no' to the coroner. This wasn't a member of her kin.
Silently, the coroner gently covered Jinx's head again, then led Mel to a second gurney. He unveiled the other body.
His skin pale, his eyelids and mouth closed. His face expressionless.
It was Jayce.
Mel stared, her mouth opening in a soundless sob. In small, incremental moments, her grief washed over her and carried her away.
…
Despite her friends protests to stay with her, Caitlyn had turned them all down, telling them she wanted to be alone.
She didn't talk to anyone on the subway ride home, wordlessly staring out the window. She didn't explain anything beyond what Viktor had screamed into the world.
She killed your brother!
Caitlyn couldn't believe it.
No… she couldn't understand it.
An eternity later, she slowly climbed the stairwell to her apartment and unlocked the door. She stared at the floor as she entered the kitchen. When she looked up, she bit her lip, pretending not to see the table set for two in the corner of her eye.
She looked up at the ceiling and closed her eyes, fresh tears stinging them. Wiping her face, she cut across the kitchen, slowly entering her dark bedroom.
Upon opening her door, she glanced up when she saw movement on the fire escape. A shadow passed over her window, backlit by the moonlight outside.
Caitlyn shuddered, then: "No. No entre," she growled, "¡Si entres, te mato!"
Vi sat on the windowsill, holding her hands up. Blood traced her face, her forehead, her nose, her lip. Red spots flecked on her denim jacket; flesh torn back on her knuckles…
"I… I didn't mean for it to…"
"You promised you would stop this."
Vi didn't say anything, shrinking in shame.
"YOU PROMISED YOU WOULD STOP THIS!" Caitlyn stepped forward and screamed in her face, their foreheads almost touching.
Vi slowly stood up, letting her scream. She could barely work her throat to speak, her voice hollow, "I tried… I tried…"
Caitlyn screamed, "And then you murdered him! No, no, you murdered me!"
She shoved at Vi's chest, attempting to push her out the window. But Vi stood rigidly, unmoving. Caitlyn slammed her hand against her chest in frustration.
"You're a killer! The killer!" Caitlyn cried, devolving into sobs as she pounded her fists against Vi's chest, vehemently, as though bringing knives down to stab her.
Exhausted, she collapsed on the ground, sobbing.
Vi stood silently, the whole time, her eyes tearing up.
"I'm turning myself over to the cops," she said softly, tearfully, "I just had to see you first."
Vi turned to the window but was stopped as she felt a tug on her jacket. She looked back to see Caitlyn, gripping the end of her jacket sleeve.
"If you let them take you away from me, how do I forgive you for that?" she asked.
Vi stood silently, staring at her, tears suddenly escaping her eyes despite her shock.
Caitlyn pulled tighter on the jacket, pulling Vi to stumble closer.
After hesitating for a long moment, Vi slowly eased herself to the floor with Caitlyn. Lips trembling, she gradually collapsed against her. Caitlyn wrapped her arms around her and Vi reluctantly hugged her back.
Her sobs grew louder, tearing her inside out.
She cried for everything that happened. She cried for the promises she couldn't keep. She cried for the people she'd lost. She cried for everyone she'd failed. She cried for the monster she swore she'd never become.
…
Inside Doc's Drugstore, the lights were off. The place was closed just like it had been hours before. Although the streets were deserted, there was a heavy cloud in the air. Something had happened.
Sirens wailed in the distance. A dog howled in the night. Then footsteps came.
In the darkness, a dozen Jets came running break-neck fast past the store window, a few of their noses bloody, pausing to regroup, but only for a second.
Red lights flashed, reflecting off the tenements that were still standing, reflecting off their faces. The sirens grew louder with the squeal of tires.
The group of Jets scattered, pushing on each other, helping each other run down nearby alleys with two squad cars in pursuit.
As a cruiser passed and disappeared around a corner, Ekko emerged from the shadows of an alley, waiting.
…
Earlier in the night, after Ekko had pulled Vi away from the salt shed, the more distance they put behind them, the more she seemed to regain some of her senses.
But at the crossroads of an alley, Vi had suddenly pulled them to a stop and refused to run with him anymore.
She pulled her arm out of his grasp.
He looked at her, shocked. "What are you doing?"
"I'm sorry… I can't… I can't…"
As she stared at the ground, Ekko gently stepped closer and took her arm again.
"We're almost to Doc's. I won't let you get arrested again. It'll be okay. The old lady will know what to do. You won't go back to prison –"
"No!" she snapped, pulling away. She shook her head as she took him in, sadly. "I mean I can't… I'm not running like this! And I won't let you get caught with me."
"But –! VI!" he shouted, eyes wide, as she suddenly broke away and took off sprinting in a different direction.
She ran down the alley, gaining a head start, her stride longer than his. Still, Ekko chased after her, pumping his arms. She knocked over a trash can, probably to slow him down. He vaulted over the can, only stumbling a little.
Exiting the mouth of the alley, Vi blindly charged across a street, entering another alley on the other side. The shadows swallowing her from sight.
Just as Ekko was about to exit the alley and cross the street, a police cruiser zoomed by, cutting him off. He narrowly ducked back into the alley as two more zoomed after the first.
"Shit!" Ekko cursed under his breath, hiding in shadow.
By the time they were gone, he knew he wouldn't find Vi.
But still… he had to try.
…
So, for hours, Ekko had weaved his way back and forth, dodging cops, staying low, looking for her. Block by block. It was taking him forever, staying out of sight, but he knew this neighborhood better than anybody. If there was ever a time to utilize that knowledge, this was it.
Retracing his steps, he came back to Doc's, warily lingering in shadow.
What if Vi did find her way back here? Or what if the cops had set up a trap?
Watching for a minute, the windows remained dark.
Biting his lip, Ekko chose to risk it.
He lingered closer to the store, ducking his head, stealthily peering in through the drugstore window. Looking in, he cupped around his eyes, trying to find movement in the shadows.
Was someone in there?
A soft interior light suddenly turned on. Ekko was startled and jumped backward at the sight of Babette inside the drugstore, her hand on a lamp switch, looking out.
She seemed just as surprised to see him.
…
Just a few minutes ago, Babette had awoken in the middle of the night because of all the constant sirens wailing, outside.
Pulling on a robe around her nightgown, she climbed out of bed, and went downstairs, not wanting to be alone.
When she called for Vi in the basement, and saw her empty bed from the staircase, she was terrified to see that Vi was gone.
…
Before Babette could call out to the familiar boy, Ekko bolted away from the window and down the street.
Confused at his fear at the sight of her and him running like his life depended on it, Babette's fear only grew. She came to the window only to see the last of him disappear.
Just a moment later, Babette saw other figures come running around the street corner. Braulio, Tino, Pipo, Julito, Junior, and Manolo raced down the street, fleeing the cops. They gathered together to yell at each other.
"¿Qué va a pasar ahora?"
"A mi me asusta."
"Vámonos. Vámonos, que hay policías."
"¡Yo no quería esta pasara, yo no quería que esto pasara!" Braulio cried.
They started arguing, pushing each other.
Babette hustled out of the store and called out to them in Spanish, "¡Párense! ¡Párense! Braulio, ¿qué está pasando? ¿Qué está pasando aquí?"
Upon seeing her, they relaxed only a tiny bit.
Braulio snapped, "Los Jets, quisieron pelear."
Everyone started talking at once, their attention torn between Babette and keeping a frightened eye out for the cops.
Junior panted to Braulio, "Vamos, nos tenemos que ir."
Babette asked, "¿Los Jets? ¿Quiénes estaban ahí?"
Julito cut in, "Jayce está muerto."
She stared at him in disbelief. "¿Jayce está muerto?"
Junior tugged on Braulio. "¡Dale, hombre! ¡Vámonos, que nos van a arrestar!"
Pipo added, "Y Jinx… Ella también está muerta. Jinx también está muerta." He said, tearfully, "Nos tenemos que ir, Babette. Nos tenemos que ir."
Some of the Sharks started to move away.
Before he could leave, Babette gripped Braulio's collar and put a finger to his chest. He could've pulled out of her elderly grasp if he wanted, but the sheer look in her eyes made him freeze.
"Dónde está Vi? ¿Dónde estaba Violeta?"
"Ella fue el que mató a Jayce."
She stared at him with wide eyes, letting go of him, stunned.
Then a police cruiser rounded the corner, heading toward them. Julito pulled Braulio away from Babette, and the Sharks ran away down the street, leaving Babette speechless, lost in horror.
The woman stepped out of the way of the police cruiser, as it zoomed past, walking blindly toward her store in shock. Out of habit, she reached up to pull the scissors gate closed and stopped midway, thinking of Vi.
She covered her eyes with her bony hand, overwhelmed, leaning against the gate.
…
Once inside the empty store, Babette grabbed herself a drink from a bottle of rum she kept stashed behind the counter. Her hand was a little shaky as she poured into a shot glass.
Sighing, she set down the bottle, then looked up at a series of black and white pictures, displayed on a shelf behind the counter.
The first was an old picture, taken at the front of the drugstore. The signage was decorated a bit different back then, and different displays were in the windows. A younger Babette stood beside her younger husband on their first opening day of Doc's drugstore. 1929. It was just their lucky year to open a business. They had very little, but they were at least happy together.
She should've known by then, but her husband quickly became a shutter bug, developing a hobby for photography. At the time, she had laughed him off. But now, she wouldn't trade his work for anything.
Tucked in a corner, a photo, marked 1939, featured Babette with a different hair style. She was sitting at a poker table in The Last Drop with her drinking buddies; Vander, Benzo, and Silco, all holding cards. Heather and Ethan sat in the background on bar stools, arms around each other, smiling as they raised glasses to the camera. They had moved from Boston to Manhattan a couple years before, quickly becoming friendly faces in the neighborhood. Heather's belly was swollen.
Beside it, a similar photo was taken in 1942 with the couple holding a blue haired baby and a pink haired toddler. The toddler in particular had a grumpy expression because she was awoken from a nap.
Babette touched the pictures.
Some of those were taken during the hardest of times; people bitter and angry, tired and hungry… but they were also little pockets of the best moments life had to offer. Amongst all the cruelty… sometimes, it was the simplest things that made a person's day. Because they had family and friends around to share it with. That made life bearable.
Babette frowned. Remembering the pink haired girl collapsed in the street, sobbing. Her little sister hugging her. No one to help either of them.
This neighborhood… everyone… they had all lost so much… Sometimes it was too hard to face the world… Facing the dark without the light…
Babette sang in the dark.
There's a place for us…
Somewhere,
A place for us…
She put her hand on the marble counter, coming around the corner.
Peace and quiet
And open air
Wait for us,
Somewhere…
She sighed, blinking back tears at the perfectly polished floor. Babette looked at a few other photos, smiling a little.
Years had gone by, and Vander's hair had more streaks of gray, his bread thicker. There were other young kids from around the neighborhood; Mylo, Claggor, and others, making silly faces in the camera, dancing in the streets, standing around, frowning, or running around, playing. In front of The Last Drop, slightly older versions of Vi and Powder were each hanging off one of Vander's flexed arms, laughing, their feet dangling above the ground. Vander wore a community boxing medal around his neck. Third place, but they were still proud of him.
There's a time for us…
Someday,
A time for us…
…
In the present, inside the 21st precinct police station, Mel sat at a chair in front of Krupke's desk. Krupke leaned beside Mel, offering advice or information on some paperwork.
Mel nodded slightly, looking small and utterly lost. She put a hand to her chest, twisting her ring unconsciously on her finger. Her tear-stained eyes glared at the desk, intently. A choice in front of her.
…
Time together
With time to spare
Babette sat at a round table in the middle of the tiled floor. The light of the neon signs in the store window shone brightly off the polished tile and the wood, giving a soft glow.
Time to learn
Time to care
…
Inside Caitlyn's bedroom, Caitlyn sat with Vi on the edge of her bed. Vi was quiet as Caitlyn looked over Vi's injuries, intently, one by one, inspecting them.
Gently, patting a hand on her knee, Caitlyn looked to the kitchen and wordlessly left to get supplies. Vi barely looked up at her, continuing to frown at her bloodied knuckles. Clutching them tightly.
…
Someday!
Somewhere!
Inside her drugstore, Babette clenched her bony hands into fists, grabbing hold of what she physically couldn't.
We'll find a new way of living…
We'll find a way of forgiving…
…
Exiting the precinct house, Mel passed a few parked police cruisers outside the station. Wiping her eyes, she slowly walked along West 82nd street, alone, traveling east toward her building. Her eyes calculated the darkness around her. A million thoughts barely keeping her mind busy enough. Planning next steps…
But what was she going to tell Caitlyn?
…
Somewhere…
…
Inside her bedroom, Caitlyn returned and stood over Vi, seated on the edge of her bed. Gently, she wiped the blood from her cut face, squeezing a towel in a bowl of water.
Caitlyn tilted Vi's chin so she would look at her. Feeling heavy and fragile, Vi silently let Caitlyn move her however she wanted.
Wiping the dirt and blood away, Caitlyn caressed her hand over Vi's cheek, her thumb stroking her skin. Closing her eyes, Vi reached up and placed her hand on top of Caitlyn's, holding it.
They looked in each other's eyes for a long time.
Then their foreheads touched.
And they slowly kissed, leaning into each other's embrace.
…
There's a place for us…
A time
and place for us…
Inside the drugstore, Babette clutched her hands together, squeezing them tightly, pressing her ring against her finger. She smiled a little at the thought of her optimistic husband.
Hold my hand and we're halfway there.
Hold my hand and I'll take you there!
Somehow!
Someday!
She hugged her arms around herself. Pretending he could hold her.
Somewhere…
She smiled at memories that lived on in her heart. Then she closed her eyes and tiredly folded into herself, cradling her head in her arms, on the table.
/
"Si entres, ¡te mato!"
"If you come in, I'll kill you!"
…
"¿Qué va a pasar ahora?"
"What is going to happen now?"
"A mi me asusta."
"It scares me."
Vámonos. Vámonos, que hay policías.
"Let's go. Let's go, there are policemen."
"¡Yo no quería esta pasara, yo no quería que esto pasara!"
"I didn't want this to happen, I didn't want this to happen!"
"¡Párense! ¡Párense! Braulio, ¿qué está pasando? ¿Qué está pasando aquí?"
"Stop! Stop! Braulio, what's going on? What's going on here?"
"Los Jets, quisieron pelear."
"The Jets wanted to fight."
"Vamos, nos tenemos que ir."
"Come on, we have to go."
"¿Los Jets? ¿Quiénes estaban ahí?"
"The Jets? Who was there?"
"Jayce está muerto."
"Jayce is dead."
"¿Jayce está muerto?"
"Jayce is dead?"
"¡Dale, hombre! ¡Vámonos, que nos van a arrestar!"
"Come on, man! Let's go, they're going to arrest us!"
"Y Jinx… Ella también está muerta. Jinx también está muerta. Nos tenemos que ir, Babette. Nos tenemos que ir."
"And Jinx… She is also dead. Jinx is also dead. We have to go, Babette. We have to leave."
"Dónde está Vi? ¿Dónde estaba Violeta?"
"Where is Vi? Where was Violet?"
"Ella fue el que mató a Jayce."
"She was the one who killed Jayce."
/