The Bus Stop
by Emily Hayhurst
I wrote this piece for my Creative Writing class where I needed to write a play on any topic. My piece is a dialogue in the form of a dramatic script. I wrote this in hopes that this work might be the thing someone needs to help cope with a relationship that ended badly. This script may not connect with everyone, but I hope that it might resonate with even one soul in a comedic way.
Setting: A dismal city bus stop in the late afternoon
Time: The present
Characters:
Joyce, early thirties
Mason, mid to late thirties
Joyce, clenching her fists and muttering under her breath, is seen sitting alone on a bus stop bench. Her face is set in a hard frown, and her eyes are red from crying. Mason enters wearing an oversized sweatshirt, sunglasses, and a baseball cap pulled low over his face. He sits down on the other end of the bench. Both characters are facing the audience.
Mason (in a thick British accent): You alright, miss?
Joyce (with her eyes on the ground): Does it look like I’m alright?
Mason: Are you hurt?
Joyce: Not physically.
Silence for several moments.
Mason (He glances at the bus stop sign and then at Joyce.): Are you going on a trip?
Joyce: You could say that.
Mason: Where to?
Joyce: Anywhere but here.
Mason’s expression turns grim.
Mason: Are you running away from something?
Joyce: Someone.
Mason: Are you in danger?
Joyce (laughs bitterly): No. This guy never had much drive to do anything that required effort.
Mason: (surprised): Oh. Relationship troubles.
Joyce: You could say that, but there isn’t much of a relationship left.
Mason: I’m sorry.
Joyce: Why do you care?
Mason: (He looks down at his shoes and shuffles his feet.): No one should go through that. Even if I don’t know you, I still don’t want you to be miserable.
Joyce: Well, that’s very kind of you. But you can’t help me.
Mason: Would you like to talk about it?
Joyce: Not really, unless you think a rant could relieve some anger.
Mason: I’m all ears.
He looks around for the bus.
Mason: And it doesn’t look like our ride is coming any time soon.
Joyce (She takes a deep breath and exhales loudly.): This morning, everything was perfect. I had it all planned out.
Her breath catches in her throat.
Mason: Do you need—
Joyce: I’m fine.
She sits up straight.
Joyce: This morning, I was going to propose to my boyfriend, the love of my life. We’ve been serious for a while now, and I thought the time was right. I kept talking about the future and dropping hints about engagement rings, hoping that he would propose, but he never did. Finally, I was done waiting, so I decided I would do it myself.
Mason: Good for you.
Joyce: What?
Mason: It must have taken a lot of courage to do that. I’m impressed that you found it in yourself to ask the big question. I personally struggle with commitment. I don’t think I would ever have the guts to propose. I’d be too afraid of one day letting her down. And I wouldn’t want her to feel trapped in accepting my proposal.
Joyce: At least you have reasons. My boyfriend didn’t even have the decency to give me any explanation. I took him to a park, and we went on a romantic stroll. Then I asked if he would marry me.
(Her lips purse, and her muscles tighten.)
Joyce: Once the words left my lips, his face went white. He dropped my hands and ran off without a word.
Mason (slides down the bench towards Joyce): Wow. He certainly sounds like a miserable piece of garbage. But maybe, he was just confused. Afterall, you did spring it on him.
Joyce (stands up from the bench, keeping her eyes ahead): Ha! I wouldn’t say I sprung it on him . . . either way, it’s more than that. Throughout our relationship, he always seemed to be keeping things from me.
Mason: How so?
Joyce (She starts pacing in front of the bench engrossed in her memory.): Sometimes he would tell me that he needed to leave town for a few days because one of his family members was sick.
Mason: What’s wrong with that?
Joyce: It happened numerous times. When he said it was his mom who was sick, I called her just like I had called every other “sick” family member to check on them. When I asked how she was feeling, she didn’t seem to know what I was talking about.
Mason: That is rather odd.
Joyce: I asked more and more questions until she remembered she was sick. She was faking. Then I started doubting all the other times he left. Were all his other relatives lying too?
Mason: Do you really think he would have told everyone to cover for him? Surely you wouldn’t believe such a thing.
Joyce: It is the only thing that makes sense. I did ask him about it though. He gave me his word that he would never lie to me. I chose to believe him. I knew my Mason wouldn’t lie to me. So I looked past it. Even after my enduring faith in him, he couldn’t handle the thought of marriage.
Mason: What do you think was going through his head?
Joyce: I don’t know. I really thought he loved me.
Mason begins taking off his hat and glasses.
Joyce: I thought that, even though he never asked, he did want to marry me. I’m so stupid.
Mason (stands up from the bench): Hey, don’t talk like that. You’re not stupid, but he certainly is.
Joyce: You got that right.
Mason: But being that he is the love of your life, maybe he deserves forgiveness.
Moments of silence pass.
Mason (takes one step towards Joyce with each of the following lines): I have to ask, do you still care about him?
Joyce: I guess.
Mason: Do you still want to marry him?
Joyce: I—I don’t know. I waited for five years, and he still wasn’t ready.
Mason: Well, what if he was ready now?
Joyce: What is that supposed to mean?
For the first time, she turns around and looks at him. Her eyes go wide.
Joyce: Mason?
Mason (drops the fake accent): I’m sorry.
He gets down on one knee and pulls out a ring box. Joyce stands up and stares at the box.
Mason: Joyce?
Joyce (slowly): Where did you go all those times when you were helping your family?
Mason: I— I—
Joyce: Answer me.
Mason (standing up): I was seeing someone.
Joyce (fists clenched): So, you were lying to me! All those times you promised fidelity were for nothing. Tell me this, Mason, if you are seeing someone else, why in the world are you proposing?
Mason: Because I know now that I want you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.
Joyce: What about her?
Mason: I broke up with her after thinking about what happened in the park. I told her I belonged to someone else.
Joyce: All that stuff you just said about disappointing and letting the person you love down— Did you mean that?
Mason: Yes. I have been struggling to decide whom I should disappoint and struggling with whom I should commit to. But I decided to let her down. I don’t want to let you down after all this time.
Joyce (She takes a deep breath and looks him straight in the eye.): You think me naive, Mason. Too little too late.
She walks away up the “street” to stage left, but he runs ahead of her into the “roadway” that is off stage. She is now standing at the edge of the left side of the stage. Mason is no longer visible to the audience, but he is still audible as he speaks to Joyce.
Mason (his voice suddenly menacing): Don’t you dare run away from me, Joyce. I broke up with someone I love to be with you. I made sacrifices for you. You can’t walk away. I deserve you.
Joyce (with panicked breath): Don’t do this.
Mason (shouting): We will get married and live happily ever after together—
Suddenly there is frantic honking.
Joyce (shocked but also relieved): Well . . . that takes care of that.
She wipes the remaining tears from her face and heads back to the bus stop.
Joyce: Time to board my bus.
The curtains close as sounds of compression brakes and sirens play overhead