Nora Kirkpatrick IN THE WOODS
CHARACTERS
MITCH: Thirties, puffy vest over a plaid shirt. A successful entrepreneur and “nice guy” whose likes and interests pivot depending on the likes and interests of whomever he is talking to. Trying to find time to be more adventurous.
DEBS: Thirties, former rock journalist, current copywriter who feels existence isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Regrets several of her more prominent tattoos.
PLACE
A lightly wooded clearing, freshly snowed, about two hours outside of New York City.
AT RISE
Mitch and Debs returned from their one-hour hike in just twenty minutes. A tree fell in the woods, blocking the very bridge they needed to get to the very spot they had said they’d get to. There was no reason to get to this particular spot, other than they had made a big stink about it to their respective husband and wife who were waiting for them back in the winter rental cabin. It had been a, “We are the chosen few, the ‘morning people’ who know how to milk a vacation for everything it’s worth, who have often contemplated tattoos that read ‘joie de vivre,’ who won’t be able to think of a single thing to regret as we lay down on our deathbeds, we’re going to get to the top of that goddamn mountain for sunrise while you two lazy assholes sleep in and let life pass you by” kind of speech.
But in reality, neither Mitch or Debs had really been up for the hike when they woke in the morning. It was freezing, with a fresh coat of snow on the ground, but the egos had been primed, and the 5 a.m. alarms set. So, Mitch kissed his wife Melanie, Debs kissed her husband Joshua, and off they went. Now, after discovering the bridge blockage, they contemplated finding a different mountain to climb, but by this point Mitch had ripped a hole in his pants trying to climb the giant tree, they were cold, and the most logical choice was to turn back.
MITCH: Look, if my ass wasn’t out, we would have done it.
DEBS: Of course we would have. We’ll get someone to come cut the tree and we’ll go tomorrow.
MITCH: Absolutely we will. I just don’t want this to turn into a whole “thing” with them. We tried.
DEBS: We were up at five.
MITCH: We were up at five, they’re still sleeping.
DEBS: We saw the sunrise.
MITCH: And it was fucking beautiful.
Mitch and Debs round the last corner of the trail. About fifty feet away, their vacation rental, a quiet, pristine two-story log cabin with a non-functioning jacuzzi. Probably worth $130 a night, but they were paying $395 due to some creatively angled listing photos and no mention of the state of the jacuzzi. A light flicks on upstairs.
MITCH: Josh up?
DEBS: Doubt it. He said he was going to sleep “longer than one would expect today”. Must be peeing. Get ready to see him naked when he comes back in. He’s kind of a nudist.
Mitch unzips his pants behind a patch of shrubs slightly obscured from view. Sighing as he relieves himself.
MITCH: Goddamn, it’s a shame you’re not allowed to pee outside anymore. Literally one of the most grounding experiences a man can have. It’s water. You’re just returning water to the earth.
He looks back over his shoulder, just as... sure enough, there comes Joshua, naked, standing in the doorway of the bedroom with a slight smile.
MITCH: Hey-oh. Not bad buddy. Is he flexing, or is he just like that?
DEBS: Alright, show’s over.
She waves Mitch away, but Joshua doesn’t move. In fact, his hand begins to move down to his crotch as he leans slowly against the door frame.
DEBS: Jesus Josh, get under the covers first. (yells at the house) We can see you honey!
Debs smiles at Mitch as he zips up. They head towards the house, but stop two steps in as a second body enters the window frame--Melanie, also naked. Melanie walks up to Mitch, putting her hand on top of his, on top of his crotch. They kiss briefly before falling onto the bed and out of the window frame.
Silence. Mitch and Debs stare at the now empty window.
MITCH: Is that...
DEBS: Wait, I’m sorry... what is?
MITCH: Holy shit.
DEBS: They can’t be.
As if to quell any doubts left in Mitch and Debs’ minds, Melanie’s perfect backside imprints against the window with her legs wrapped around Joshua who is thrusting deeply and repetitively. Mitch pukes in the snow.
DEBS: Oh Jesus.
MITCH: You mother-fucking piece of shit! Stop it right the fuck n--
He takes off towards the house, with Debs immediately sprinting after.
DEBS: (a whisper - yell) Wait!
She catches up, throwing an arm around his neck and her other mittened-hand over his mouth.
MITCH: (through mitten) What the fuck are you doing? We have to stop them!
DEBS: No wait! Just wait!
MITCH: What? The longer we wait, the more your fucking husband gets to fuck my fucking wife. Lemme go!
He breaks free, making it about five steps before Debs leaps on his back, tackling him to the ground. Their faces are inches apart as Mitch struggles to get free.
MITCH: Why are you doing this! This is not what you do right now!
DEBS: Wait! Just shut up! We need a second to think about this.
She slams his hands above his head to immobilize him.
DEBS: (frantic) Think about what’s gonna happen here. We go in, we confront them, they leave us for each other, try it out for two months, it doesn’t work, they want to get back together with us, but we’re too angry and bitter to say “yes” and the divorces are already finalized so all of us end up angry, depressed and alone, masturbating on our couches thinking about how we used to not be angry, depressed and alone. But we are now! Because of this moment. Because of how we handled this moment, right here. So, before we blow it up, if you could just slow down for one fucking second and let me get my bearings, I would be very grateful. I would be grateful! And I think you will be too.
Mitch stops struggling. They breathe on each other for a moment.
MITCH: Okay. Okay. Fuck. Okay. (he grunts, thrusting his hips) You’re heavy now.
She rolls off. They lay in the slow looking at the sky for a moment, then in unison, turn their heads towards the house. Joshua and Melanie are on the bed now, the sheets elegantly draping off Joshua’s right buttock. Mitch eats some snow to clean his mouth. Spits.
MITCH: Do you think this is the first time?
DEBS: I don’t know. (they watch for a moment) Yes. He’s thrusting a little hesitantly. Seems like he’s still finding his direction.
MITCH: Me too. I bet it is too. She seems to be asking a lot of questions. Although I bet they’ve been thinking about it for years. She’s probably about to tell him she prefers hands to mouths down there. She only tells you that once.
DEBS: Fuck. I wanted to cheat on him so many times and I didn’t. I should have. Every time. Every time it crossed my mind, I should have.
MITCH: Why didn’t you?
DEBS: Because I could never tell at the end of the day which one of us was crazy. I’m 99% sure he’s at fault for everything, but that 1% really caused some doubts in pivotal moments.
MITCH: (truth) Mmm.
They watch the house for a moment. Melanie has gotten on top. It’s hard to tell, but she appears to be laughing.
MITCH: I think I need to scream.
Mitch takes a deep breath in, and before Debs can stop him, lets out a long, silent scream. It’s terrifying. Debs stares. They blink at each other.
DEBS: Okay.
She takes a deep breath in. He joins, and together they scream - Edvard Munch style. A beat of silence. Mitch makes a sound, almost like a child pouting.
MITCH: My ass is so cold.
DEBS: There’s a tree branch over there. Harder for them to see us anyway.
She helps him up and they walk a few short feet to the branch, now better blocked from view by the foliage. He looks to his watch.
MITCH: They’ll expect us back at some point.
DEBS: Twenty minutes, give or take.
He fiddles with the dials. Hits START on a timer.
MITCH: Alright. So, you confront him. What’s it look like. Go.
Debs stands up, pacing. She moves through the motions as she describes them.
DEBS: Okay. I walk in completely calm. Maybe even with a slight smile. I stand above him.
“Hey Joshua, don’t get up. I know you fucked Melanie but that’s not the point, the point is I don’t love you, I haven’t for a long time. You’re an insecure egomaniac and I only enjoy 10% of what you have to say. I want a divorce and I’m keeping the house.” Then right about here, he’s gonna try to say something, and charm me back, because fuck him, he’s charming. And I’m gonna stop him before he can try to hug me and calm me down, because I’m not… I’m not gonna be able to finish if he does that, so I’m gonna say… “You don’t touch me, asshole. You just touched Melanie and you have her all over your fingers, so get off me! If you have something to say to me, you can say it to my lawyer. I’m so glad we never had children. Good-bye.” And then, right about now, he’s gonna try to chase after me, but I don’t even turn back. Tell him I won’t dignify this behavior with a response, use some of the terms my therapist taught me that always confuse him, then just get in the car and leave… Right? Yeah, and then, and then… we get a divorce.
MITCH: Great! Yep!
DEBS: And then, you know after that, I probably wait a few months? Go on a dating app or something, meet an investment banker, or a graphic designer, or like a businessman or some kinda normal guy. He’ll probably be divorced with a couple kids, and we’ll date. Have sex too early because I’m insecure he could date someone younger so I need to put out a bit. I won’t be inspired by him in any way, he hates to travel, can’t get away from work, and will think it’s annoying when I daydream instead of just cute like Joshua does, but it’s safe, he’s there. Slowly becoming aware that his age and his kids are marks on his record and that he probably can’t do better than me either, so we’ll just… we’ll just live… um… until we don’t. I’ll think about Joshua sometimes, where he is, what actress he’s dating, but we won’t talk, won’t be a reason to. Probably see him in an airport in ten years and I’ll pretend I’m happy, and he’ll pretend he’s happy, and we’ll both walk off with our respective new spouses, and that’ll be the rest--of my life.
Debs nods to Mitch, who nods in return. Perhaps to break the gaze, Mitch turns to look through the window. Melanie is giving Joshua an eager blowjob against the dresser.
MITCH: Pff. She hates giving blowjobs.
DEBS: (that’s too bad) Oh. Alright. Your turn. You walk in there right now, right at this very moment and say...
MITCH: “You hate giving blowjobs, why are you giving him a blowjob?” And then she’ll scream, and he’ll scream and grab something to cover his super huge, super erect thing, and she’ll say “I’m so sorry baby” and “It didn’t mean anything, you’ve just been so distracted with work lately—” and I’ll cut her off right there by holding my hand up and say “Well, one of us has to make a living.”
DEBS: Ooooh. Yeah. (egging him on) Financial guilt. Good.
MITCH: “One of us has to keep this fucking family together. You put eight thousand dollars on our credit card last month, you know how much I spent? Two. Two thousand dollars. Not including the mortgage and the car payments, and with me covering the majority of the tax liability”--
DEBS: You gotta move through the financial stuff faster though, I think.
MITCH: Right. “And that’s why I want a divorce. Because I have given you everything you ever asked for, I have worshiped the ground you walked on, taken shots to try to get over a cat allergy that I’m absolutely 100% not over, but we have a cat! Don’t we have a cat! And I love you, and you fucked him, and I don’t know how you could do that when I never yell at you, and never say mean things to you when we fight, I just love you, and hug you and never mention when you’re on your period, even though I know, and the neighbors know, and your co-workers know and everybody knows even though you say ‘it has no real effect on you’ and I kiss you every morning and every night, and what more can I give? What more can you want? I’ve never loved anything as much as I’ve loved you and I try to find a way to show you every single day-- I’m sorry my dick’s not bigger.”
DEBS: Oh, you don’t have to--
MITCH: “I’m sorry about it, but it still. Works. Just. Fine. I’ll have a divorce now. Thank you. Sorry. And thank you.”
Debs just nods as Mitch sits down beside her.
MITCH: Something like that.
DEBS: Yeah. Good. That was... strong, and good.
In the bedroom, things seem to be wrapping up. Joshua and Melanie smile a bit, but you can tell the guilt is starting to set in. They re-dress as you would in a gym locker room, very conscious to turn your back to the wall when you bend over to grab your pants. Melanie gives Joshua a small hug on her way out. Joshua walks to the window for a moment. Does he see them? Mitch and Debs tuck in behind a tree as Joshua takes a deep breath in and out, checking to see if the window will fog. It does. He writes “hi”. To us, it reads “ih.” Pleased, he wipes it away and leaves.
MITCH: Should we hook up?
DEBS: I’m sorry?
MITCH: I mean, just—I dunno, what if we hooked up real quick, and then it’s like, hey we know you guys did this, but just FYI we did it too. So we’re all equal here and everybody has a sex drive and is attractive to the opposite sex and still knows how to send signals across a room and is virile and you’re not that special and you know?
Debs puts her hand on Mitch’s crotch, he recoils, then course corrects, stands tall, leans into her hand. He puts his hand on Debs breast, over her coat. She takes off his mitten, shoves his hand under her coat on her real breast. He takes her hand and shoves it down his pants on his real crotch. They stare at each other without blinking.
DEBS: I’m not sure this is helpful.
MITCH: I’m cold, which is why it may not feel--
DEBS: It’s fine. (she gives a quick feel around) You’re actually fine. You should get over whatever thing you have with that. It’s good.
MITCH: Thank you, I appreciate that.
DEBS: Yeah.
MITCH: Yours are nice too. (he gives a gentle squeeze) Real good ones.
DEBS: I know.
MITCH: Okay.
They both remove their hands. In the house, Melanie and Joshua have begun to move around. Melanie is laying in her and Mitch’s bed staring at the wall. Joshua is in the kitchen boiling water for coffee. Debs sits on the log.
MITCH: Is this our fault?
DEBS: What do you mean? How can this be our fault?
MITCH: I could have done better.
DEBS: So can everybody, so could I, but that’s absolutely not the point.
MITCH: My priorities are out of whack. I think if I provide a home, if I provide financially, that I’m providing emotionally, but maybe it doesn’t work like that. What else was she supposed to do!
DEBS: Stop. This isn’t the thing.
MITCH: It’s not? Are you sure? I mean… I don’t know who I am, truthfully. Truthfully, I’m whoever anyone around me wants me to be. You want me to be successful, okay I’ll do that, you want me to wear a puffy vest and go skiing in Mammoth on New Year’s with other guys who make the same amount of money as me, okay, I can do that. You want me to tell jokes that are borderline offensive, but then walk it back right before I cross the line so the old-school guys know that I’m still playing on their team, but smart enough to hide it. Done. I care what my boss thinks, I care what my investment banker thinks, I don’t care what she thinks, I don’t know what she thinks. I don’t even care what I think. I just care what I should think. I haven’t done something unpredictable since 2002.
DEBS: You put my hand on your dick a few minutes ago?
MITCH: Okay, thank you. Yes, maybe that counts.
DEBS: Look, I can be cold. I can... cold, you know? I cut off my emotions the moment they get above a five. Don’t feel it’s worth it, you know? I’m not the most vulnerable person I’ve ever met.
MITCH: Oh, I don’t think you’re vulnerable at all.
DEBS: Right. Understood. Well, I am, okay? Inside I’m a pile of mush. I just don’t wear it. I don’t flaunt it, okay? And although I used to think that I was doing everyone a favor, that it was a superpower, maybe, in a relationship, it’s not. I tried to make him think I didn’t need anything. Ever. Thought it was a gift.
MITCH: And it pushed him away. Because he thinks you don’t need him, and people need to feel needed, for something.
DEBS: Maybe. And maybe she knows you don’t love yourself enough to love her. Because if she really saw you, she might not like it, and she’d leave. She’s married to your persona, not you, and she got lonely.
MITCH: Maybe. Maybe it’s our fault.
Debs takes a second.
DEBS: No. Fuck that. I don’t think that’s the lesson we’re meant to be learning here.
MITCH: What is it then?
DEBS: ...That kind people can look you straight in the eye and lie. (beat) That maybe the truth is something none of us have every really experienced.
Melanie descends the stairs, passes Joshua in the kitchen without a word, pours herself some coffee. She grabs some flour, eggs and milk, out of the cabinet while Joshua sets the table for four. We hear the faint sound of a Bing Crosby Christmas playlist coming from the kitchen.
MITCH: Your parents married?
She nods.
DEBS: Yours?
MITCH: Forty years.
DEBS: (with a smile) Where did we go wrong?
Mitch stands watching Joshua and Melanie in the kitchen. He narrates their movements in a 1950’s ‘home-cooked-meal’ commercial voice.
MITCH: Honey, I’m home. What a day at the office. Thank you for being here all day to take care of all seventeen of our children.
DEBS: (smoking a fake cigarette) It’s nothing my love, only what I was born to do. My hands are smaller than yours for a reason.
MITCH: What’s that?
DEBS: Easier to clean the inside of tiny pots, my dear.
MITCH: (a wink) Why, of course. Dance with me, my love.
Mitch holds out his hand. Debs obliges and he pulls her into a spin. For a brief moment they smile, pleased with themselves, and sway back and forth in the snow. Behind them in the kitchen, Joshua reads the NYTimes and Melanie flips pancakes.
MITCH: Melanie and I met at a wedding, she was just “working retail” then, hadn’t gotten into the Instagram cooking thing yet. So beautiful, I mean just so beautiful. Could have modeled, but she’s always known that. Tried a few times but didn’t really apply herself.
DEBS: To modeling?
MITCH: Yeah. You know, like, she could have tried harder with the pictures. But I knew when I met her we were going to know each other for a long time. I actually told my therapist, “I just gotta meet someone like Melanie.” She was dating this douchebag, actor guy, big collars, stuttered in a way that seemed like a put on, you know? Walked with his dick as the center of gravity. Anyway, he left her for one of his co-stars, she cried on my shoulder every day for a week, (with a smile) and on the seventh day…
Got married a year later. She just looks at me sometimes like she’s in awe of me. I’d never had that before. She thinks I’m smart. She asks me things, and I usually know the answer. Even when I don’t, I make it up. She knows I’m making it up, but she never calls me out on it. Just smiles. I make her smile a lot. I love that.
Debs smiles at Mitch, they’re both a little teary.
MITCH: You being vulnerable?
DEBS: (big smile) Never. Joshua hit on me hard at the beginning. Like, really hard. It was all I could do to keep up. I was his, he was mine, we were “doing this thing.” The future was right there in front of us, all I had to do was say, “yes.” You and me against the world, kid. I think he hates that I understand him, I think he’d rather be mysterious to everyone, including me. I mean, I’m sure the reason he wanted to sleep with Melanie is because she has no idea who he really is. No offense. But the thing he probably doesn’t understand, is that I’ve seen through his whole shtick since day one, but I think he’s wonderful. I think the person he’s working so hard to keep private, is wonderful and I can’t imagine a more exciting life with anyone. I wish he understood that... He’s my equal, and I think that’s hard to find.
The alarm in Mitch’s pocket goes off. They pull away from their slow dance. It’s time.
DEBS: When’s the last time you were truly happy in your marriage?
MITCH: Last night. You?
DEBS: Two hours ago...
Melanie puts out the butter on the table, dances around a bit as she flips the pancakes onto a plate, lights a candle for the table.
DEBS: But we have to tell them, or else we’re the fools.
Mitch stares at Melanie, can’t help but smile at her terrible dancing. He looks to Debs.
MITCH: Are we?
Debs smiles. Buries her face in Mitch’s chest for a moment, takes a deep breath.
DEBS: You sure?
MITCH: ...Yeah, you?
DEBS: I think so.
They pull away, Mitch leans down, picks up some mud covered in snow, smears it on Debs face. It drips down her jacket. She’s shocked but takes it.
MITCH: Gotta make it look like we hiked.
She picks up a handful, chucks it. It hits him right in the mouth. He spits out a muddy twig.
DEBS: They’re gonna ask for pictures.
Mitch taps his head.
MITCH: We’ll tell them we remember the whole thing. Proof is for assholes. We were present. We were here.
DEBS: We were here.
MITCH: Love you.
DEBS: Love you.
Mitch and Debs turn to take one final look at the house, and begin to walk back to their lives.
Nora Kirkpatrick is a writer/director living in Los Angeles. She has created and/or written series for CBS, Hulu, Amazon and Comedy Central, among others. She was a founding member and accordion player for Grammy-winning band, Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros, and is currently a staff writer on the new Amazon series, Daisy Jones And The Six. She also directed an episode of The Goldbergs (ABC) in its present season.