ORANGUTAN: Did you hit the call button yet?

  CHUTES&LADDERS: I’m working on it.

  ORANGUTAN: Where are you? Are you at home?

  CHUTES&LADDERS: Jeopardy!’s on mute.

  ORANGUTAN: Dude, turn off the tube. This is serious. Did you even dial?

  CHUTES&LADDERS: Yeah, yeah. (He does) All right, it’s ringing. What am I going to say?

  ORANGUTAN: “Hi, Son, it’s Dad.”

  CHUTES&LADDERS: Wendell. That’s his name. (Hangs up) No answer.

  ORANGUTAN: As in, you hung up?

  CHUTES&LADDERS: Yes. I hung up.

  ORANGUTAN: Dude, way too quick!

  CHUTES&LADDERS: What do you have, a stopwatch? Do you know the average time before someone answers a telephone?

  ORANGUTAN: 3.2 rings.

  CHUTES&LADDERS: According to . . .

  ORANGUTAN: I don’t reveal my sources.

  CHUTES&LADDERS: Look, my son’s a grown man with a good life.

  ORANGUTAN: Quit moping and dial Wendell’s number.

  CHUTES&LADDERS: This Japan thing is cramping my style. Different networks, different time zones. No concurrent Jeopardy! watching.

  ORANGUTAN: Deflection: nostalgia.

  CHUTES&LADDERS: Humor me.

  ORANGUTAN (Humoring him): How’s my little Trebeky doing?

  CHUTES&LADDERS: He’s had work done. Man looks younger than he did twenty years ago.

  ORANGUTAN: Needle or knife?

  CHUTES&LADDERS: Needle. His eyes are still in the right place.

  ORANGUTAN: Well, it’s working. Meow. Purrrrr. Any good categories?

  CHUTES&LADDERS: Before and After.

  ORANGUTAN: I love Before and After! But I’ll go with . . . Quit Stalling for two hundred. (She hums the Jeopardy! theme)

  CHUTES&LADDERS: It’s ringing.

  ORANGUTAN: My stopwatch is running.

  CHUTES&LADDERS: Still ringing.

  ORANGUTAN: You’re going to be great.

  CHUTES&LADDERS: It rang again.

  ORANGUTAN: You’re a brave soul.

  (We hear a man’s voice at the other end of the line say,

  “Hello?” Chutes&Ladders hangs up.)

  CHUTES&LADDERS: He must not be around.

  ORANGUTAN: Leave a voice mail.

  CHUTES&LADDERS: Maybe next time.

  (Chutes&Ladders logs off.)

  ORANGUTAN: Hey! Don’t log off, come on. Chutes&Ladders. Whatever happened to tough love? Log back on, we’ll do a crossword. You can’t fly before “Final Jeopardy!” Sigh. Anyone else online? Haikumom? I’m still waiting for that daily poem . . . Bueller? Bueller?

  (In Odessa’s living room, Elliot and Yaz enter.)

  YAZ: Wow, look at that computer. Stone age.

  ELLIOT: Fred Flinstone shit.

  YAZ: Positively Dr. Who.

  ELLIOT: Dr. Who?

  YAZ: That computer is actually worse than what they give the adjuncts at Swarthmore.

  ELLIOT: What does “adjunct” even mean?

  YAZ: Exactly. It’s the nicest thing she owns.

  ELLIOT: Let’s not act like this is some heroic sacrifice. Like this makes her the world’s martyr.

  YAZ: We’re not going to get more than fifteen bucks for it.

  ELLIOT: Symbols matter, Yaz. This isn’t about the money. This is shaking hands. This is tipping your hat. This is holding the door open. This is the bare minimum, the least effort possible to earn the label “person.” (Looks at the screen) What do you think her password is? (Types) “Odessa.” Nope. “Odessaortiz.” Nope.

  YAZ: It’s probably Elliot.

  (He types. Haikumom’s log-on appears.)

  ELLIOT: The irony.

  YAZ: I think legally that might be like breaking and entering.

  ELLIOT (Typing): Hello? Oh shit it posted.

  ORANGUTAN: Haikumom! Hit me with those seventeen syllables, baby!

  YAZ: Haikumom? What the hell is that?

  ELLIOT: Her username. She has the whole world thinking she’s some Chinese prophet.

  YAZ: Haiku are Japanese.

  ELLIOT: “Haiku are Japanese.” (Typing) Hello, Orangutan. How are you?

  ORANGUTAN (Formal): I am fine. How are you?

  ELLIOT (Typing): So, I guess you like monkeys, huh?

  ORANGUTAN: An orangutan is a primate.

  YAZ: Elliot.

  ELLIOT: Chill.

  ORANGUTAN: And this primate has ninety-eight days. That deserves a poem, don’t you think?

  ELLIOT (Typing): I don’t have a poem, but I have a question. What does crack feel like?

  ORANGUTAN: What?

  YAZ: Elliot, cut it out.

  ELLIOT (Typing): Sometimes I’m amazed I don’t know firsthand.

  ORANGUTAN: Who is this?

  ELLIOT (Typing): How does it make your brain feel?

  ORANGUTAN: Like it’s flooded with dopamine. Listen, cyberstalker, if you came here for shits and giggles, we are a sadly unfunny bunch.

  ELLIOT (Typing): Are you just a smoker or do you inject it right into your eyeballs?

  ORANGUTAN: Who the fuck is this?

  ELLIOT (Typing): Haikumom.

  ORANGUTAN: Bullshit, you didn’t censor me. Quit screwing around, hacker, who are you?

  YAZ: You think Ginny would want you acting this way?

  ELLIOT: I think Mami Ginny would want Mami Odessa to pay for a single flower on her fucking casket.

  YAZ (Types): This is not Haikumom. It’s her son.

  ORANGUTAN: Well, if you’re looking for the friends and family thread, you have to go to the home page and create a new log-on. This particular forum is for people actually in recovery. Wait, her son the actor? From the Crest ad?

  ELLIOT (Typing): Colgate.

  ORANGUTAN: “Sonrisa baby!” I saw that on YouTube! Your teeth are insanely white. Ever worked in Hollywood?

  ELLIOT (Typing): Psh. I just had this guy begging me to do a feature film. Gritty, documentary-style, about Marines in Iraq. I just don’t want to do anything cheesy.

  ORANGUTAN: So you’re the war hero . . .

  ELLIOT (Typing): Haikumom brags.

  ORANGUTAN: How’s your recovery going? (No answer) This is the crack forum, but there’s a really good pain-meds forum on this site, too. Link here.

  YAZ: What is she talking about?

  ORANGUTAN: There’s a few war vets on that forum, just like you. You’d be in good company.

  YAZ: Pain meds? Elliot? (He doesn’t respond. Yaz types) What are you talking about?

  ORANGUTAN: Haikumom told us about your history.

  YAZ (Typing): What history?

  ORANGUTAN: Sorry. Maybe she told us in confidence.

  ELLIOT: Confidence? They call this shit “world wide” for a reason.

  YAZ (Typing): I can search all the threads right now.

  ORANGUTAN: That you had a bunch of leg surgeries in Iraq. That if a soldier said they hurt, the docs practically threw pills at them. That you OD’d three times and were in the hospital for it. She was real messed up about it. I guess she had hoped the fruit would fall a little farther from the tree.

  YAZ (To Elliot): Is this true?

  ELLIOT: I wasn’t a soldier. I was a Marine. Soldiers is the army.

  YAZ: Oh my god.

  ELLIOT (Takes the keyboard, types): What I am: sober. What I am not and never will be: a pathetic junkie like you.

  (He unplugs the computer. He throws the keyboard on the ground. He starts unplugging cables violently.)

  YAZ: Hold on. Just stop it, Elliot! Stop it!

  ELLIOT: The one time I ever reached out to her for anything and she made me a story on a website.

  YAZ: Why wouldn’t you ask me for help? Why would you deal with that alone?

  ELLIOT: The opposite of alone. I seen barracks that looked like dope houses. It was four months in my life, it’s over. We’ve chopped up a lot of shit together, Yaz, but we ain’t gonna chop this up. This shit stays in the vault. You got me?

  YAZ: No!

  ELLIOT: Yaz. (He looks her straight in the eye) Please. Please.

  YAZ: I want to grab the sky and smash it into pieces. Are you clean?

  ELLIOT: The only thing I got left from those days is the nightmares. That’s when he came, and some days I swear he ain’t never gonna leave.

  YAZ: Who?

  (Elliot tries to walk away from the conversation, but the Ghost is there, blocking his path.)

  Who?!

  ELLIOT (Almost like a child): Please, Yaz. Please end this conversation. Don’t make me beg, Yaz.

  YAZ: The pawn shop closes in fifteen minutes. I’ll get the monitor, you grab the computer.

  Scene Nine

  Chutes&Ladders is at work, on his desk phone. A bundled pile of mail is on his desk. He takes off the rubber band, browses. Junk, mostly.

  CHUTES&LADDERS (Into the work phone): That’s right. Three Ws. Dot. Not the word, the punctuation mark. I-R-S. Not “F” like flamingo; “S” like Sam. Dot. Yup, another one. Gov. Grover orange victor.

  (Orangutan appears, online.)

  ORANGUTAN: I’m doing it. I’m almost there. And I can chat! Japan is so advanced. Internet cafés are like parking meters here.

  CHUTES&LADDERS: Where are you and what are you doing?

  ORANGUTAN: Sapporo train station. Just did some research. Get this: in the early eighties, they straightened all the rivers in Hokkaido.

  CHUTES&LADDERS: Why?

  ORANGUTAN: To create jobs the government straightened the rivers! Huge bodies of water, manual laborers, scientists, engineers, bulldozers, and the rivers became straight! How nuts is that?

  CHUTES&LADDERS: People can’t leave good enough alone. Why are humans so damn restless?

  ORANGUTAN: It’s not restlessness. It’s ego. Massive, bizarre ego.

  CHUTES&LADDERS: Can’t let a river be a river. (Into the phone) The forms link is on the left.

  ORANGUTAN: Now it’s the aughts, people keep being born, jobs still need creating, but there’s no curves left to straighten, so, drum roll, the government is beginning a new program to put all the original turns back in the rivers!

  CHUTES&LADDERS: Well good luck to them, but no amount of engineering can put a wrinkle back in Nicole Kidman’s forehead.

  ORANGUTAN: Ever heard of Kushiro?

  CHUTES&LADDERS: Is that your new boyfriend’s name?

  ORANGUTAN: Ha. Ha ha ha. It’s home of the hundred-mile-long Kushiro River, which is the pilot project, the first river they’re trying to recurve.

  CHUTES&LADDERS: Kushiro River. Got it. Burned in the brain. One day I’ll win a Trivial Pursuit’s wedge with that. (Into the phone) You, too, ma’am. (He hangs up)

  ORANGUTAN: My train to Kushiro leaves in twenty minutes. My heart is pounding.

  CHUTES&LADDERS: I don’t follow.

  ORANGUTAN: Kushiro is the town where I was born. I’m going. I’m doing it.

  CHUTES&LADDERS: Hold on, now you’re throwing curveballs.

  ORANGUTAN: In my hand is a sheet of paper. On the paper is the address of the house where my birth parents once lived. I’m going to knock on their door.

  (Chutes&Ladder’s desk phone rings.)

  CHUTES&LADDERS (Into the phone): Help desk, please hold. (To Orangutan) How long have you had that address for?

  ORANGUTAN: It’s been burning a hole in my pocket for two days. I hounded my mom before I left Maine. She finally wrote down the name of the adoption agency. The first clue, the first evidence of who I was I ever had. I made a vow to myself, if I could stay sober for three months, I would track my parents down. So a few days ago class ended early, I went to the agency, showed my passport, and thirty minutes later I had an address on a piece of paper. Ask me anything about Kushiro. All I’ve done the last two days is research it. I’m an expert. Population, 190,000. There’s a tech school, there’s an airport.

  CHUTES&LADDERS: Why are you telling me this? To get my blessing?

  ORANGUTAN: I tell you about the things I do.

  CHUTES&LADDERS: You don’t want my opinion, you want my approval.

  ORANGUTAN: Hand it over.

  CHUTES&LADDERS: No.

  ORANGUTAN: Don’t get monosyllabic.

  CHUTES&LADDERS: Take that piece of paper and use it as kindling for a warm winter fire.

  ORANGUTAN: Jeez, what did they slip into your Wheaties this morning?

  CHUTES&LADDERS: Do a ritual burning and never look back. You have three months. Do you know the worth in gold of three months? Don’t give yourself a reason to go back to the shadows.

  ORANGUTAN: I’m in recovery. I have no illusions about catharsis. I realize what will most likely happen is nothing. Maybe something tiny. A microscopic butterfly flapping her microscopic wings.

  CHUTES&LADDERS: Live in the past, follow your ass.

  ORANGUTAN: Don’t you have the slightest ambition?

  CHUTES&LADDERS: Yes, and I achieve it every day: Don’t use and don’t hurt anyone. Two things I used to do on a daily basis. I don’t do them anymore. Done. Dream realized. No more dreaming.

  (His phone rings again.)

  (Into the phone) Continue holding, please.

  ORANGUTAN: When was the last time you went out on a limb?

  CHUTES&LADDERS: Three odd weeks ago.

  ORANGUTAN: Did you try hazelnut instead of french roast? Did you listen to Soul Mornings instead of NPR?

  CHUTES&LADDERS: There’s a new secretary down the hall, she’s got a nice smile. I decided to go say hello. We had a little back and forth. I said, let’s have lunch, she said maybe but meant no, I turned away, looked down and my tie was floating in my coffee cup.

  ORANGUTAN: I waited three months to tell you this, every step of the way, the train ride, what the river looks like. What their front door looks like. (Pause) I’m quitting this site. I hate this site. I fucking hate this site.

  CHUTES&LADDERS: You’re already losing it and you haven’t even gotten on the train.

  ORANGUTAN: Three days ago I suggested you and I meet face to face and you blew a fucking gasket.

  CHUTES&LADDERS: That’s what this is about?

  ORANGUTAN: Don’t flatter yourself. This is about me wanting relationships. With humans, not ones and zeroes. So we were once junkies. It’s superficial. It’s not real friendship.

  CHUTES&LADDERS: I beg to differ.

  ORANGUTAN: Prove me wrong.

  CHUTES&LADDERS: Search down that address and a hundred bucks says your heart comes back a shattered light bulb.

  ORANGUTAN: You mean, gasp, I’ll actually FEEL something?

  CHUTES&LADDERS: What are you going to do if the address is wrong? What if the building’s been bulldozed? What if some new tenant lives there? What if the woman who gave you birth then gave you away answers the door?

  ORANGUTAN: I DON’T KNOW! A concept you clearly avoid at all costs. Learn how to live, that’s all I’m goddamn trying to do!

  (His phone rings. He picks up the receiver and hangs it up.)

  CHUTES&LADDERS: I have three grandsons. You know how I know that? Because I rang my son’s doorbell one day. Step 9, make amends. And his wife answered, and I don’t blame her for hating me. But I saw three little boys in that living room and one of those boys said, “Daddy, who’s that man at the door?” And my son said to my grandson, “I don’t know. He must be lost.” My son came outside, closed the door behind him, exchanged a few cordial words and then asked me to go.

  ORANGUTAN: So I shouldn’t even try.

  CHUTES&LADDERS: I had five years sober until that day.

  ORANGUTAN: You really believe in your heart of hearts I should not even try. (Pause) Coward.

  (His phone rings. He unplugs the phone line.)

  CHUTES&LADDERS: You think it’s easy being your friend?

  ORANGUTAN: Sissy. You walk the goddamn earth scared of your own shadow, getting smaller and smaller, until you disappear.

  CHUTES&LADDERS: You tease me. You insult me. It’s like breathing to you.

  ORANGUTAN: You fucking idiot. Why do little girls tease little boys on the playground at recess? Why the fuck were cooties invented? You fucking imbecile!

  CHUTES&LADDERS: You disappeared for three months. I couldn’t sleep for three months!

  ORANGUTAN: I wanted to impress you. I wanted to log on and show you I could be better. And I was an idiot because you’re just looking for cowards like you. I’m logging off. This is it. It’s over.

  CHUTES&LADDERS: Orangutan.

  ORANGUTAN: Into the abyss I climb, looking for a flesh-and-blood hand to grasp onto.

  CHUTES&LADDERS: Little monkey, stop it.

  ORANGUTAN: I’m in the station. My train is in five minutes, you gave me all the motivational speech I need, I’m going to the platform, I’m getting on the train, I’m going to see the house where I was born.

  (She logs off. Chutes&Ladders grabs his phone and hurls it into his wastebasket. He throws his calculator, his mail pile, his pen cup to the ground. Left on his desk is one padded envelope.)

  CHUTES&LADDERS: “To Chutes&Ladders Wilkie.” “From Haikumom Ortiz.”

  (He rips it open, pulls out a deflated orange water wing, puts it over his hand.)

  Scene Ten

  Split scene. Lights rise on a church. Elliot and Yaz stand at the lectern.

  YAZ: It is time to honor a woman.*

  ELLIOT: A woman who built her community with a hammer and nails.

  YAZ: A woman who knew her nation’s history. Its African roots. European roots. Indigenous roots. A woman who refused to be enslaved but lived to serve.

  ELLIOT: A carpenter, a nurse, a comedian, a cook.

  YAZ: Eugenia Ortiz.

  ELLIOT: Mami Ginny.

  (Lights rise on Odessa’s house. She sits on her floor. She scoops a spoonful of water from a mug, pours it onto the floor in a slow ribbon.)

  YAZ: She grew vegetables in her garden lot and left the gate open so anyone could walk in and pick dinner off the vine.

  ELLIOT: She drank beer and told dirty jokes and even the never-crack-a-smile church ladies would be rolling laughing.

  YAZ: She told me every time I visited, “Yaz, you’re going to Juilliard.”

  ELLIOT: Every morning when I left for school, “Elliot, nobody can make you invisible but you.”