Wingspan Read online

  Chris Bohjalian

  Wingspan

  Chris Bohjalian is the author of twenty books, including The Flight Attendant, The Guest Room, The Sandcastle Girls, Skeletons at the Feast, The Double Bind, and Midwives, which was a number one New York Times bestseller and a selection of Oprah’s Book Club. His work has been translated into more than thirty languages, and three of his novels have become films (Secrets of Eden, Midwives, and Past the Bleachers). Wingspan is his first play. He lives in Vermont and can be found at www.chrisbohjalian.com and on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, Litsy, and Goodreads.

  ALSO BY CHRIS BOHJALIAN

  The Flight Attendant

  The Sleepwalker

  The Guest Room

  Close Your Eyes, Hold Hands

  The Light in the Ruins

  The Sandcastle Girls

  The Night Strangers

  Secrets of Eden

  Skeletons at the Feast

  The Double Bind

  Before You Know Kindness

  Idyll Banter

  The Buffalo Soldier

  Trans-Sister Radio

  The Law of Similars

  Midwives

  Water Witches

  Past the Bleachers

  Hangman

  A Killing in the Real World

  Wingspan

  A One-Act Play

  Chris Bohjalian

  A Vintage Short

  Vintage Books

  A Division of Penguin Random House LLC

  New York

  Copyright © 2019 by Chris Bohjalian

  All rights reserved. Published in the United States by Vintage Books, a division of Penguin Random House LLC, New York, and distributed in Canada by Penguin Random House Canada Limited, Toronto.

  Vintage and colophon are registered trademarks of Penguin Random House LLC.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Vintage Books eShort ISBN 9781984898975

  Cover photograph © Kunitoshi Takayama/EyeEm/Getty Images

  www.vintagebooks.com

  v5.4

  ep

  Contents

  Cover

  About the Author

  Also by Chris Bohjalian

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Wingspan

  First produced as Grounded by Throughline Artists at 59E59 Theaters July 20–August 31, 2018.

  Cast members K. K. Glick and Grace Experience preparing for takeoff in the original Throughline Artists Summer Shorts festival production at 59E59 Theaters in New York City. Photograph by Carol Rosegg.

  Setting

  The front of a wide-body passenger jet.

  Time

  The present.

  Characters

  Emily, a flight attendant in her early twenties

  Karen, a flight attendant in her late thirties/early forties

  Original Cast

  Emily: Grace Experience

  Karen: K. K. Glick

  Original Director

  Alexander Dinelaris

  Stage is black.

  On a screen upstage appears an airline preflight safety video: a cheeky, playful female voice.

  Spotlights come up on two flight attendants, one all the way stage left and the other all the way stage right. The one stage right is early to mid-twenties: this is EMILY. The one stage left is late thirties to early forties: this is KAREN.

  The flight attendants—uniform blazers, skirts, dark stockings, scarves, pumps—are standing as they face the audience, motioning appropriately as the safety video proceeds.

  SAFETY VIDEO: In addition to the exit doors, there are two window exits over the wings. Each door has a detachable slide that can be used for flotation.

  EMILY: But not the window exits, campers. No slides over the windows. We ditch this baby over the Atlantic and you leave through the window? You are jumping into the cold ocean. In the dark.

  SAFETY VIDEO: All exits are clearly marked with an exit sign. In the event of a loss of power, white emergency lights will lead you safely and surely to the exits.

  EMILY: No, they won’t. You won’t see them. The cabin will be filled with smoke, and everyone’s carry-on crap and service items will be everywhere. Good God, you’re probably dangling upside down by your seat belt.

  SAFETY VIDEO: In the event of a loss of cabin pressure—which, trust me, is very rare—the panels above your seat will open, and oxygen masks will descend.

  EMILY: Which is important, because when you put them over your mouth, the captain won’t be distracted by your howls of “this-is-it, we’re-going-down” terror.

  SAFETY VIDEO: Be sure to adjust your own mask before helping others.

  EMILY: And don’t expect either of us at the front of the cabin to help you. Karen over here—

  EMILY points with her thumb at the older flight attendant.

  will be shouting, “Brace! Brace! Brace!” and I will be sobbing into my sleeves and shitting my pants.

  SAFETY VIDEO: Now, before we take off, be sure your seat is in its upright position, your tray table is put away, and your carry-on items are properly stowed. Take a moment and review the safety information card in the seat pocket—a little light preflight reading! Then? Sit back and enjoy your flight.

  Lights come up.

  Slightly stage right are the jump seats for two flight attendants. There is an identical, uniform clutch or purse beside each seat. Between the jump seats is the intercom phone. To the right of the two seats is a traditional passenger cabin door with a big handle and a small window.

  Stage left is the galley, which will turn out to be fully appointed with cloth napkins, silverware, glasses, porcelain white cups for snack mix for the first-class passengers, etc.

  In the middle is the locked door to the flight deck. Above it is an illuminated seat-belt sign.

  KAREN (To EMILY.): And we’re off. Where did you say you’re from?

  EMILY: Maine. College town not far from Portland. My dad’s a professor.

  KAREN: You ever had first class before?

  EMILY: I’ve never even had London before. This is my first overseas flight.

  KAREN: And you’re the extra?

  EMILY: I’m the replacement. I came the minute the airline called.

  KAREN: Well, lucky me. Welcome aboard.

  EMILY: Thank you.

  KAREN: It’s Emily, right?

  EMILY: Yup.

  KAREN sits down in the jump seat farthest stage right and starts texting on her phone.

  EMILY is in the galley cleaning up, putting away glasses and ordering the ramekins for snack mix. She notices the other woman on her phone and approaches her.

  EMILY: I once had a guy tell me that was the Sharon Stone seat. Basic Instinct. (Beat.) Creepy, right?

  KAREN looks at EMILY like she’s insane, then crosses her legs. She resumes tapping a message or email on her phone.

  EMILY: Shouldn’t we be in airplane mode?

  KAREN ignores her and her phone pings. She smiles. Only then does she put her phone into her purse.

  KAREN: See that old dude in 2B? Any minute now, he’s going to ask if he can hit the head. Sorry, you should have thought of that before we got in the car.

  EMILY: My mom used to say that to me.

  KAREN: Yeah, I used to say it to my kids.

  EMILY: How old are they?

  KAREN: My daughter’s fourteen going on forty. My son is eleven going on three. I still have to tell him to pee before getting in the car.

  EMILY: You did put your phone in airplane mode? Right?

  KAREN: Yeah, I did. Probably.

  The wall phone attached to the flight deck chimes and KAREN answers it.

  KAREN: Yeah? Got it.

  She hangs up the phone and joins EMILY in the galley.

  EMILY: Everything okay?

  KAREN: Starboard-side engine is on fire.

  EMILY: What?

  She frantically cranes her head to look out the window of the passenger door.

  KAREN: That’s port side, honey.

  EMILY: And you were kidding.

  KAREN: Yes, it was a joke. The starboard-side engine is not on fire.

  EMILY: What did the captain just tell you?

  KAREN: We’re fifteenth in the conga line.

  EMILY: That’s not too bad.

  KAREN: Beats an engine fire.

  EMILY: Will you do me a favor? (Beat.)

  KAREN: Sure.

  EMILY: Would you double-check your phone to make sure it’s in airplane mode?

  KAREN: There are 256 people on this plane and twelve of us in the crew. That’s 268 people. Do you really believe that every single one of them has put their phone in airplane mode?

  EMILY: I don’t know. But I kinda hope so.

  KAREN goes to her purse, gets her phone, and dramatically swipes right for EMILY to see.

  KAREN: There. If the plane augers in, it’s not
on me.

  EMILY: Thank you.

  KAREN: Tell me something.

  EMILY: Go ahead.

  KAREN: Just how scared of flying are you?

  EMILY: Very. But way more when the plane is going to be over the ocean than land.

  KAREN joins her in the galley.

  KAREN: Because a plane does A-okay when it slams headfirst into a mountain?

  EMILY: At least you’re not over the ocean. No one lives if you crash in the water.

  KAREN: Nah. Just think of the Miracle on the Hudson.

  EMILY: First of all, note that we call it the Miracle on the Hudson. Not the Just Another Day on the Hudson. Second, that flight was mostly over land.

  KAREN: Seriously: You going to be okay? This is a big plane and a big cabin and we have a lot to do. If you think you might wig out, please tell me now and—

  EMILY: I’m fine! (Beat.) As long as we don’t ditch in the ocean.

  KAREN: How in the world did you wind up doing this?

  EMILY: A few years ago, my parents got me a series of sessions with a life coach for my birthday. The coach said I was too grounded. I thought he was just being funny, because at the time I was a barista. (Beat.) Grounded.

  Pause.

  Anyway, that’s a thing, apparently: being too grounded.

  KAREN: Okay.

  EMILY: And so, at his urging, I tried something completely different.

  KAREN: Becoming a flight attendant.

  EMILY: Yes. Something that would force me to address one of my biggest fears.

  KAREN leans forward and speaks to an audience member in the first row.

  KAREN: Hey, sir. (She points to the seat-belt sign above her.) The seat-belt sign is illuminated. That’s not a suggestion. It’s a rule. Thank you.

  On cue, there is the sound of a baby starting to howl in the back of the theater. KAREN looks up at the heavens for strength, and—mercifully—the baby grows quiet.

  KAREN: I have a feeling this could be a really long flight.

  EMILY: When we were boarding, I was surprised that you didn’t make that crazy man back down when he kept spreading his stuff all over the overhead bins.

  KAREN: He was harmless. Just manspreading—overhead-bin style. It’s not like he was planting bags of plastic explosives.

  EMILY (Angry.): I wish you would stop that.

  KAREN: Stop what?

  EMILY: Saying things like that.

  KAREN: I’m joking.

  EMILY: Well, it makes it worse.

  KAREN: Last time I’ll ask, so think long and hard about your answer: honey, can you do this?

  EMILY: Also? Don’t call me “honey.” That’s the second time.

  KAREN: Fine. Emily. Can you do this?

  EMILY (Defensively.):Of course. I’ve been doing it for two years.

  KAREN: But not over water.

  EMILY: I mean, I did Lake Michigan. I did Lake Erie.

  KAREN: Yeah. They’re kind of like oceans.

  EMILY: Right? You can’t always see the other side!

  KAREN: They’re nothing like oceans.

  EMILY: Inland seas. Will you give me that?

  KAREN: Sure. But you know what I think?

  EMILY: No. But you’re going to tell me.

  KAREN: I think your life coach was kind of a dick. Who suggests to a person who has a fear of flying that she become a flight attendant?

  EMILY: Wow. You really have no filter.

  KAREN: I got two kids. No time for filters.

  Phone chimes and KAREN crosses to the jump seats to answer it. She listens, nods, and hangs it up.

  EMILY: Good news?

  KAREN (Holding up one finger.): Wait for it.

  CAPTAIN’S VOICE (Onscreen male voice—think Chuck Yeager in The Right Stuff): Captain Elder here. Good evening. Well, we will get you to London. But we’re going to spend a little more time here in beautiful Jamaica, Queens, on scenic Runway 13L. Sorry folks, we’re in a traffic hold. Sad to tell ya, drink service is suspended until we take off. I’ll get back to you as soon as I have more information.

  EMILY: Traffic holds kind of freak me out.

  KAREN: Good God, why?

  EMILY: It just reminds me of how many planes are up there. Above us. I mean right here we have JFK, we have LaGuardia, we have Newark. Just so many planes, circling and circling and taking off and landing. And there are just so many clouds up there. And now it’s dark. And a fender bender at two or three thousand feet? It’s not a fender bender. It’s a fucking nightmare.

  KAREN (Gently.): It’s a big sky, Emily. It really is.

  EMILY (Beat.): I was actually really good.

  KAREN: At what?

  EMILY: At coffee.

  KAREN: I’m sure you were.

  EMILY: I could swirl hearts in cappuccinos. I could nail a triple-skim-half-caf-latte in seconds. I was a microfoam chemist.

  KAREN: And your life coach had you give all that up?

  EMILY: He…(Beat.)

  KAREN: He what?

  EMILY: Never mind. The secret to a good espresso? A hot cup.

  KAREN: Tell me.

  EMILY: It’s nothing.

  KAREN: C’mon. We’re going to be together for the next seven hours, then tomorrow in London, then seven hours back to JFK. What were you about to say about your life coach?

  EMILY: I wasn’t about to say anything.

  KAREN: The thing about flying is this: people talk more, passengers cry more. We all get more emotional. I have seen grown men sob through Love Actually. It’s the idea we’re alone. We’re leaving home or we’re going home. Or we’re not alone, but we’re going or coming from someplace special. A funeral. A wedding. A big business deal. People talk more. And you and me? We’re not exempt from that.

  EMILY: I know.

  KAREN: So: I’ll tell you a secret if you tell me one. And you’ll really like mine.

  EMILY: And you know that…how?

  KAREN: It’s the secret to not being scared of flying.

  EMILY: The secret to not being scared of flying is Xanax.

  KAREN: But you’re not on Xanax now.

  EMILY: No.

  KAREN: So, you need my secret.

  EMILY: You’re just going to tell me that turbulence has never brought down a plane. Or the infinitesimal odds of crashing.

  KAREN: Nope.

  EMILY: I should practice “attentional focus:” keep my attention elsewhere—on my job, for instance.

  KAREN: Not it.

  EMILY: Avoid “hypervigilance.”

  KAREN: Not the secret.

  EMILY: Remember, I had the same training as you.

  KAREN: Apparently not.

  EMILY: Fine. Tell me. (Beat.)

  KAREN: Next time you’re in a car, pretend you’re a dog. But instead of sticking your head out the window, stick out your arm. Stick it out flat like a wing. A big wing, long wingspan. Then tilt your thumb downward and watch what happens. Then tilt your thumb up. Think of the flaps on this plane. When you tilt your thumb down, your arm will shoot down. When you tilt your thumb up, your arm is going to shoot up. Bernoulli’s principles. Aerodynamic lift. Go fast enough and set the wings right, and this plane can’t do anything but fly. It’s physics. It’s science.

  EMILY: You know what’s also science?

  KAREN: What?

  EMILY: Gravity.

  KAREN: That’s my secret. Your turn. Tell me about your life coach.

  EMILY: Fine. (Beat.) He was kind of more than my life coach.

  KAREN: Don’t tell me.

  EMILY: Yup. He was sort of a lover.

  KAREN: But he began as your life coach.

  EMILY: No. Kind of the other way around.

  KAREN: Was he your boyfriend or your life coach when he said you were too grounded and needed to become a flight attendant?

  EMILY: It was sort of a gray area. And he was always more lover than boyfriend.

  KAREN: Life coach with benefits? Sounds ethically kind of nasty.