SCENE E (somewhere in the middle, perhaps)

God, I hope I'm at the right place. Maybe I'm here early and that's why I don't hear anyone, Dana thinks to herself. She looks around; all of the apartments are exactly the same. Some of the patios have their lights on, and moths flit around their glow. Most of the patios are empty, with maybe a garbage can, or a chair. There are a few porches with PlaySkool houses set up for toddlers. The apartment she is at has a potted ficus and a coffee can filled with cigarette butts. She puts on her best party smile and knocks.

A man in his late twenties answers the door; he is wearing khaki slacks and a button up checkered shirt. He is not tall, but certainly not short, perhaps six feet, he has got brown hair that has been cut recently, he is in the process of growing a beard and has crow's feet around his eyes. Dana smiles and glances past him, trying to see into the front room of the apartment. The man peeks behind his shoulder.

"I'm sorry, I must have the wrong apartment. I didn't mean to bother you, it's just that I’ve only been here a couple times, you know, to this complex, and everything looks the same."

"Hey, no worries," the man says. "Who are you looking for anyway? I might know where they live."

"Oh, I'm looking for this older guy’s place; his name is Mr. Myers... I guess he's having a party or something tonight."

"Yeah... no, I don't know. I have no idea. But, hey, it's my birthday, if you want a piece of cake --well, it's Boston cream pie-- or a cupcake or something, I've got plenty."

Dana just smiles and her eyes dart around, seeking another person, or another sign of life.

"Seriously, it's my birthday. My mom brought the cake and cupcakes this afternoon."

"Well, happy birthday..." she pauses, waiting for the man to introduce himself.

"Joe. Joe Pierce."

"Happy birthday, Joe Pierce. I'm Dana. It's nice to meet you."

"So, you want to come in for a piece of cake?"

"Yeah, sure, why not?"

Joe turns around and walks into his apartment, he holds the door open for her with a smile. Dana pauses just before her first foot crosses the threshold, she takes a look around before she continues, Joe laughs and steps out of her way. He sucks in his stomach when he does this.

The walls are not decorated; they are a dull shade of white. The kitchen is small. The appliances do not match; the refrigerator is a moldy green, the microwave is white, dishwasher: beige, coffee pot: black. The kitchen table is an old card table with four white plastic chairs around it. There is barely enough room to get around the table to sit down. The linoleum is white and clean, probably the newest thing in the apartment.

The rest of the visible area is devoted to a living room. There's an old sofa, the upholstery is reminiscent of a grandmother's sitting room -- aged, slightly discolored, with green and yellow flowers forming a garden pattern. The TV is bulky, with wires flowing out of it. The coffee table is oak, it looks as though it's been polished, but water rings cover the surface still.

"Hey, have a seat; what do you wan, a cupcake, cream pie? Some coffee?"

"Oh, I'll have a cupcake, I just ate, otherwise I would go for the Boston cream pie, I don't
know the last time I had one of those..."

"You should have some then, I'll cut you a thin slice."

"Aw, thanks, that'd be great."

Dana sits down carefully on the nearest plastic chair around the table. When she decides that it will support her, she relaxes a bit.

Joe comes up behind her, a slice of pie in hand. He leans over the back of her chair, over her shoulder, to put the pie in front of her. He examines the cleavage just barely peeking out of the scoop of her shirt. He smells her hair, then sits down next to her.

"Jesus Christ! What is this guy's deal?” Dana asks herself.

"Thanks Joe, it looks great, " she says, instead of what she was thinking.

"Yeah, it's pretty good -- there are bananas between the layers instead of just cream. I hope you're not allergic or anything; or I hope you like bananas -- you know, they're a great source of potassium, folic acid, and blocks diarrhea...” he trails off. He waits for her to take a bite. She does.

Dana chews slowly. "Wow. I've never had bananas in one of these before. It's interesting."

"Yeah. I liked it."

"So, did you get anything cool for your birthday?"

"Yeah. My parents got me some cloths."

"That's good... what kind of clothes?"

"Well, hey, I'll show you." Joe jumps up from his chair and makes his way quickly through the living room. Joe comes back with a Macy's box and a blue polka-dotted gift bag.

He puts his gifts down on the table and sits. He opens his big white Macy's box, as though he is revealing the secret of how to turn lead into gold, or a map of Atlantis. Dana watches patiently, with a small smile of amusement blooming on her face. Joe pulls out a checkered button up shirt, then a striped one.

"Those are really nice, the colors will really go well with your eyes."

"You think?"

Dana nods her head (a little too quickly), "Definitely."

Joe takes a pair of plaid flannel pajamas out of the box; they are blue and red but not seemingly patriotic. Dana smiles with her whole face for the first time since meeting Joe. His pajamas look exactly like a pair that her grandmother wore when she was little.

"What?"

"Oh. Nothing. I just didn't know that anyone still wore pajamas." Dana gives Joe a look of apology.

Joe laughs, "Well, they're from my mom; it's not like I picked them out." Joe then grabs the blue gift bag. He pulls out three pairs of boxers.

"Um...” Dana tenses up and stares.

"I was pretty excited about the boxers, I never buy the nice ones for myself. The only ones worth buying are the Polo ones; they last. Other brands just wear out. They're more comfortable too."

Every sign of a smile that Dana had been showing disappears.

"Oh my god I have to get out of here. Oh my god I have to get out of here," Dana thinks over and over, almost a Koan.

"So, I was pretty excited to get these; the only time I get nice boxers is for Christmas, so all of my nice boxers are covered with Christmas lights and reindeer. I think some of them might even have some snowflakes."

"Hey, um, well, that's nice. I should go."

"No, no, no. Don't go. I bet your party isn't going on yet."

"Seriously, I have to go." Dana stands up, almost jumps. Joe stands up too.

"Is it something I said?"

"Uh, yeah."

Joe moves in front of Dana, blocking the way out.

"Excuse me," she says as she tries to push her way past Joe.

"No. Hey, sorry. At least stay for some coffee. I'll start a pot if you sit down."

"Uh, yeah. Okay. Can I use the bathroom please?"

Joe looks behind him and points to a door on the left side of the living room. Dana pushes past him to the door Joe pointed to.

Dana opens the bathroom door; it's a small, narrow room, the shower curtain is pulled shut, making the room even smaller. Panicking, Dana locks the door behind her and turns on the fan. She puts down the toilet seat and sits; she heaves her large purse onto her lap and begins digging through it. There is nothing helpful in it. No mace, no guns, no knives, no cell phone; there's not even a spray bottle of perfume to spray in Joe's face.

Dana looks through the medicine cabinet. There’s nothing useful in there either; not even a disposable Bic. Dana turns on the sink and runs over to the shower curtain, and pulls them back slowly to keep the noise down. The bathtub is dirty, as though it hasn’t been cleaned in months; this surprises Dana based on the rest of the apartment, which, even though everything was old, was immaculate; not a crumb on the floor.

She sees a window in the top of the shower. Fuck. Please don’t let it be a sliding-pane window. Please don’t let it be a sliding-pane window, she thinks to herself. She steps over the ledge of the bathtub into it. She reaches up to the window and finds the latch. The window opens out. Dana pushes her purse out of the window, it goes through easily, and she drops it down. The hard part would be getting herself up high enough to get out through the window. Wedging her shoes between the rim of the bathtub and the tile wall, Dana pulls herself up to a standing position on the little ledge. She knows she only has one chance to get out through the window; if she slips and falls, she’ll make too much noise. All of the power in her body goes to helping her raise her upper body to the level of the window. When she is up high enough, she pushes her arms through the window, and pulls herself through by grappling with the outside wall of the building. Her legs are in the air, and finally she’s able to pull herself through. She falls on her hip on the ground when she lands. Dana stands up slowly, picks up her purse, and walks as quickly as she can away from Joe’s apartment.

When she reaches her car, she unlocks the door, climbs inside, and locks the door behind her. She reaches into her purse and pulls out a pack of Marlboros and a pink lighter. She doesn’t even bother cracking the window, she just sits in her car and smokes. She shivers, and wishes that David were there.