(ROSE exits. GINNY lays fire in woodstove, eats donut, drinks coffee. LARRY enters and waits. When GINNY turns around, she sees LARRY. They talk simultaneously.)
GINNY and LARRY
Oh, God.
LARRY
I’ll be damned.
GINNY
Where did you come from?
LARRY
Slow down.
GINNY
How did you get in here?
LARRY
Fantastic!
GINNY
Here. Take this coat.
LARRY
Want help with your novel?
GINNY
I’ll drive you to the post office. They’ll know where the church is. They serve hot oatmeal.
LARRY
I’m not going anywhere.
GINNY
You can’t keep breaking into people’s houses, sir. You could get hurt.
(LARRY puts Morris & Craven survey of the property back on the wall)
GINNY
Stop! What are you doing?
LARRY
That survey was expensive.
GINNY
Don’t touch anything. Please come with me. I’ll take you. Rose’s church —
LARRY
I’m not going to Rosie’s Goddamned church! Stop! Rosie was my house cleaner.
GINNY
What? No. The man Rose worked for died. Larry someone.
LARRY
I’m Larry.
GINNY
You didn’t hear me. The man Rose worked for died. She washed his body. Upstairs.
LARRY
Indeed, she did. October 28, 1993.
GINNY
But, you’re not dead, sir.
LARRY
Yes, I am, ma’am.
GINNY
Well, you don’t look dead.
LARRY
Shall we start over?
GINNY
Start what over? I am renting this house and I’ve come a long way and I need sleep and groceries and a bath and some peace and quiet so whoever you are, I’m asking you as politely as I know how, to leave.
LARRY
This is my house.
GINNY
This is not your house, sir.
LARRY
I was afraid of this.
GINNY
You’re confused. Hypothermia. Sleeping outdoors. We’ll go to Pete’s. I’ll get you something warm to drink. And eat. I don’t want you to get in trouble.
LARRY
Stop it! You’re smarter than that. Somebody shows up you weren’t expecting, and you presume it’s a squatter because that’s the latest gossip. Don’t believe what everybody else believes. You presume that when a person dies —
GINNY
Excuse me, sir – wow — but when a person dies –
LARRY
The lights don’t always go out.
GINNY
When a person dies, they don’t. . .
LARRY
What? They don’t what?
GINNY
They don’t stick around. Their body goes in a casket and gets buried or it gets cremated and the ashes go into an urn and the urn gets buried or it sits on somebody’s mantel. The dead person gets a headstone. My father got his from the Navy.
LARRY
Your father was in the Navy?
GINNY
Vietnam. Lieutenant Commander.
LARRY
I’m a Navy man. Also, Lieutenant Commander. World War II.
GINNY
Then you’re entitled to a free headstone.
LARRY
I’ll have to look into that. So. You’re a writer.
GINNY
How do you know that?
LARRY
Rosie just said, “writers need privacy.”
GINNY
You heard her?
LARRY
I was in the back hall.
GINNY
So that’s how you got in. Is there another door?
LARRY
My house has two doors. That is the main door and that door by my desk leads to the field.
GINNY
Your desk?
LARRY
For sixty-two years. Which is why finding a total stranger on the premises has been a shock. Yesterday, I come back from my daily sail. I’m looking forward to a cocktail with Rosie because it’s Friday, and what do I find? A pile of beat up bags at the foot of the stairs, a light on upstairs, and unfamiliar items on my kitchen table.
GINNY
You go sailing? In the winter? You have a sailboat.
LARRY
Arabella. She’s on her mooring right now.
GINNY
Rose can see you?
LARRY
No. I wish she could. You, on the other hand, appear to have the gift. It’s only happened once before.
GINNY
Muriel.
LARRY
Long skirts. Flaxen pigtails. First morning she came down those stairs, let out one hell of a scream and ran to the post office, told Dolores she’d just seen dead Larry at his desk and bingo – I had the house to myself again. Muriel was a damned good poet. It must have something to do with words. Sit. Please. Forget about the squatter.
GINNY
You died, but you didn’t —
LARRY
End up in a coffin or an urn. I gave up trying to figure out why a long time ago. “There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.” Perhaps you could imitate Hamlet and welcome me as a stranger.
GINNY
Aren’t you cold?
LARRY
I don’t get cold. Or hot. I don’t even get hungry. Thirsty yes. But I don’t need the toilet if that’s what you’re wondering. Most people wouldn’t rent a run-down house on an island in the winter in Maine. What are you running away from?
GINNY
I’m not running away from anything.
LARRY
Not fleeing the law?
GINNY
No!
LARRY
You could imitate Muriel and demand Coastal Properties give you a refund.
GINNY
I’m not imitating anyone. Hamlet or Muriel! And I don’t want a refund. I’m not leaving this house.
LARRY
Good. Nor am I.
GINNY
Well, that’s just fine.
LARRY
Awkward. But we seem to be getting along. May I call you Ginny?
GINNY
No. What about your son?
LARRY
Lawrence appears to be financially secure enough not to have to sell the property, which pleases me on all accounts. He struggled when his parents divorced, but he’s turned out okay. More traditional than his old man. Corporate law of all things. Uses the full family name. I suppose Lawrence Sargent Hall looks impressive on his firm’s letterhead.
GINNY
Say that again. Your son’s name.
LARRY
Lawrence Sargent Hall, Junior.
GINNY
You’ve got to be kidding me.
LARRY
I don’t kid.
GINNY
You’re Lawrence Sargent Hall? Lawrence S. Hall?
LARRY
Senior.
GINNY
Oh, my God! The writer.
LARRY
And Professor of English Literature.
GINNY
I don’t believe it.
LARRY
Emeritus. Deceased.
GINNY
Lawrence S. Hall. You wrote “The Ledge.”
LARRY
Correct.
GINNY
Well, that explains why this book was on my bedside table. I thought I was hallucinating — “The Ledge” in this collection — I wrote my thesis on “The Ledge.” Stuff like this happens to me all the time, but –. I admire you very much, sir. You have no idea. And I want to tell you – (pause) I never got my M.F.A. I wrote the paper — never mind – it’s a long story. What am I trying to say? (silence) My professor admired you very much. He thought because my grandfather had just died, and I was having a hard time – he thought if I studied “The Ledge,” it might release something.
LARRY
Did it . . . release something?
GINNY
When the fisherman realizes their skiff is gone and they have no way to get off the ledge and the seawater around them is rising and it’s dark and freezing. Please let me – it’s such a privilege to be able to tell you this. The fisherman tells his son to get up on his shoulders. Then the son asks his father, “Is it time now?” and the father says, “Not yet. Not just yet.” Dot, dot, dot. That moment meant so much to me. The love. Before death. I memorized that whole paragraph. (silence) Wait a minute. “The Ledge” takes place in Maine. And this is Maine.
LARRY
Yes, dear. This is Maine. Where did you go to college?
GINNY
Iowa.
LARRY
Iowa Writer’s Workshop is an excellent —
GINNY
I went to Iowa State.
LARRY
M.F.A.?
GINNY
I dropped out. My grandfather got sick. That door. Did you unlock it?
LARRY
I detest locks. Always have.
GINNY
Rose thought someone had broken in.
LARRY
Well, when she comes back, you can calm her down. I try to remember to lock up on Fridays because I know she’s coming. Sometimes I forget.
GINNY
Are you slamming doors?
LARRY
Only when I have to.
GINNY
You scared the caretaker.
LARRY
He stole my axe. Where were we?
GINNY
So much for solitude. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.
LARRY
Ahhhh. You hoped to find solitude on an island in Maine?
GINNY
Yes!
LARRY
You should have chosen Manhattan. By now, the boys at Pete’s will know your name, where you’re from and by the time Rosie goes back for more coffee, they’ll know about the mysterious glass on the coffee table. Everybody means well, but it’s January. Not a hell of a lot going on.
(LARRY picks up GINNY’s red binder, sets on table near GINNY.)
LARRY (con’t)
It’s how we all start out — the colorful binder, the three-hole punch. Want help with your novel?
GINNY
You read my –
LARRY
Every page.
GINNY
(opens it) You made notes. When?
LARRY
Last night. I haven’t had a student of your caliber in a long, long time.
GINNY
Lawrence S. Hall’s handwriting . . . but these are just —
LARRY
Observations. Full of details. Perhaps a few too many details. Which I propose we turn into — what? That’s what you intended to do here isn’t it? Write? (silence) Do you want my help or not?
GINNY
Okay. Okay. Yes. Oh my God. Yes.
LARRY
Good. My bedroom is down that hallway. Off limits. Do not knock. Do not peep in. From eight a.m. until one p.m. I work at my desk, every day. Whether or not I can come up with a single word, that’s where I sit. Where I wait. During that time, you will work upstairs. If you need to go to the bathroom, tip toe down the stairs and tip toe back up.
GINNY
What if someone comes to the door?
LARRY
The only people who come down this road are Rosie on Friday afternoon and now, I suppose the postman.
GINNY
I saw someone in the field yesterday.
LARRY
In my field? When?
GINNY
Yesterday. Over by that tree.
LARRY
Describe.
GINNY
He was wearing a dark coat. Trapper’s hat. A man, or maybe a boy. Was it you?
LARRY
No. I use the lane.
GINNY
Marilyn didn’t see him. She said nobody goes down there.
LARRY
Un huh . . .Well, well. (silence) Let me know if you see him again. (pause) When I go sailing, you can come downstairs. When I return around five, I will expect to see your day’s work on the corner of my desk. Double-spaced. Which I will read overnight. The following day, when I return from sailing, we will discuss those pages at five o’clock. Meanwhile, you will place more pages, double-spaced on the corner of my desk.
GINNY
Got it. Where can I buy paper?
LARRY
Brunswick.
GINNY
How far is Brunswick?
LARRY
You really don’t know where you are do you?
GINNY
No.
LARRY
Brunswick is twenty minutes north.
GINNY
Got it.
LARRY
I’ll give you two days.
GINNY
Monday. Pages on your desk. Double-spaced. Discuss on Tuesday five o’clock.
LARRY
Until you’re done with your novel, which I presume is what you intend to write.
GINNY
I haven’t thought about it.
LARRY
Well, you’re going to think about it now.
BLACK OUT