Cast

THE MATHEMATICIAN / DANIEL AMARU
OFFICER BENNETT
OFFICER CORAL
OLDER WOMAN
SKATEBOARDER
BURRITO EATER
FIDGETER/YAZMIN
BARTENDER 1
NEWSPAPER GUY
CARWASH BOSS
SALES MANAGER
NEARBY PATRON
BARTENDER 2
FLOWER VENDOR / FRANCISCO
CUSTOMER 1
CUSTOMER 2

Scene 1

A man walks unsteadily through a dimly lit parking lot. He passes two police cars facing opposite directions, driver-side windows open across from one another, steam—coffee?—coming from each. As he passes them, he trips and falls hard to the ground, the sound of keys skittering across the pavement is heard. Both cops exit their vehicles. The taller, broader one is black, gray at his temples. The other is white and younger, hair cut in a military-style buzz. They approach the fallen man from behind. The older officer speaks first.

OFFICER BENNETT: Sir, are you okay?

THE MATHEMATICIAN: Fuck, that hurts.

OFFICER BENNETT: What'd you do to yourself?

THE MATHEMATICIAN: (responds without turning around) I fell, I guess you're no rocket scientist. Busted up my knee for Christ’s sake.

OFFICER CORAL: Whoa, who do you think you're talking to like that?

THE MATHEMATICIAN: (still does not turn around) Look man, I don't need you in my face right now.

OFFICER CORAL: I'll get in your face alright. (Pulls his gun)

OFFICER BENNETT: Officer Coral! Put that down, no imminent threat here.

OFFICER CORAL: If this Mexican wants to talk to me like that, he's gonna get a quick lesson in American authority. We don't take shit like that on this side of the border.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: Shit, my knee. (turns around for the first time) Jesus, you guys are cops. I'm sorry, I was just going to my car.

OFFICER CORAL: Damn right we are. (Lowers the gun) We've got public drunkenness. What else are we going to find? You a drug runner? You got papers?

THE MATHEMATICIAN: Papers?

OFFICER CORAL: Papers. Or should we just take you straight to, how do you say it, "la migra"?

THE MATHEMATICIAN: The migra?

OFFICER BENNETT: Let's assess the situation here. Sir, stand up if you can. You appear to be in no condition to drive. And my partner's right, Arizona state law SB1070 requires us to check the immigration status of anyone we stop who may appear foreign.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: (slowly gets to his feet) I'm a US citizen. And I'm not driving anywhere. I'm just...

OFFICER CORAL: Just what? You said you were going to your car. Where are you coming from? Let's see ID.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: I came from a bar down the way. I've had a few. My wallet's in my car, right over there, that BMW.

OFFICER CORAL: A Beemer? Where did the money for that come from?

OFFICER BENNETT: Sir, I'd like to see you walk a line to your car. And we will need to see some identification.

The man walks, a bit more steadily but favoring his knee. He gets to the car, opens the front door, pulls out a wallet, and hands a driver's license to Bennett who examines it with his flashlight.

OFFICER BENNETT: Mr. Daniel Amaru. This ID looks valid, but—

OFFICER CORAL: Let me take a look at that. Yeah, just what I thought, California. Aren't they giving licenses out to illegals over there?

OFFICER BENNETT: It's almost five years old. Come on, it's Christmas Eve, let's cut this guy some slack. But about the driving.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: I wasn't going to drive, I ... I sleep in my car.

OFFICER CORAL: That's rich, a homeless Mexican sleeping in a Beemer. Next, you’re going to tell us you’re just a gardener. Come on, let's bring this guy in.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: The name's Peruvian. An Incan ruler from the 16th century. And you can check the glove compartment. You’ll find the insurance and registration is up to date and in my name. And these hands, do they look like gardener's hands to you?

OFFICER CORAL: Shit, smooth like a baby's. Looks like you've never done a day's work in your life.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: You want to see a picture?

OFFICER CORAL: A picture?

The Mathematician reaches into his front shirt pocket and pulls out a well-worn photo.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: Take a look.

OFFICER CORAL: President Obama, and that's, that's, holy shit is that you? Bennett, check this out.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: That's me. Last year.

OFFICER BENNETT: I'll be damned. What’s the medal around your neck?

THE MATHEMATICIAN: Two years ago, I won the Fields Medal. Hear of it?

OFFICER BENNETT: No.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: It's like the Nobel Prize except for math. I almost solved the Riemann Hypothesis. Probably haven't heard of that either.

OFFICER BENNETT: I haven't. But I took calculus in college, maybe you could explain it to me.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: I can't.

OFFICER BENNETT: Go on, try.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: That's just it, I can't. A week after my White House trip, I went into a 7-11 to buy chips. A bag of Lay's potato chips of all the damn things. And this guy, a kid really, but big, comes running in, runs behind the counter, grabs a carton of cigarettes, and runs out, knocking me over in the process.

(Prolonged silence)

OFFICER BENNETT: And?

THE MATHEMATICIAN: I black out. I come to in the hospital. And my mind is gone. No math. I can't think about numbers much less theorems. Dyscalculia. Like dyslexia but with numbers. I can't even multiply in my head. It's over. I'm done. I drink and I sleep in my car.

OFFICER CORAL: Dys—what?

THE MATHEMATICIAN: Dyscalculia. My brain just can't process math anymore. You know in this picture, I was trying to explain the mathematical concept to Obama. I got closer to it than anyone before. Now it's all gone. The university said they’d keep me on but I saw how they looked at me, the pity. I couldn't take it.

OFFICER BENNETT: That's quite a story.

OFFICER CORAL: Yeah. So, if that medal was such a big deal, didn't you get a lot of prize money? I think those Nobel winners get like a million bucks.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: (laughs) I wish. It was $15,000, not even half the price of this car.

OFFICER CORAL: That sucks.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: Yeah. Can I go to sleep now?

OFFICER CORAL: We really can't let you sleep here. There's a law against that, SB, SB ... Well, something.

OFFICER BENNETT: Officer Coral, can I have a word with you?

The officers move away from the man and confer for a moment.

OFFICER BENNETT: Mr. Amaru, it's not my place to be in your business but you look like shit and I bet you don't smell so good either. Coral here and I have both had some help along the way so we're gonna pass some forward. See that Motel 6 down there?

THE MATHEMATICIAN: Yeah.

OFFICER BENNETT: Here's fifty bucks. Walk down there. I'll give the manager a call, he'll give you a room for twenty-five along with a razor. Clean yourself up and use the rest for a Christmas meal.

OFFICER CORAL: And go light on the booze.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: You shitting me?

OFFICER BENNETT: No, now go, before I change my mind and decide to buy the kids one more useless gift.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: Thank you.

He takes the money and starts to walk off stage.

OFFICER BENNETT: Mr. Amaru—

THE MATHEMATICIAN: Yes?

OFFICER BENNETT: How old are you? Are you thirty yet?

THE MATHEMATICIAN: Twenty-eight.

OFFICER BENNETT: Thought so. I started college wanting to be an engineer. Calculus was the hardest class I ever took. Passed it with a C. You must be a smart guy. And you're young. Find something to do with your life.

Scene 2

Amaru sits on a park bench next to an older woman, her pale skin in sharp contrast to her bright orange jogging suit. Amaru appears clean-shaven with neat clothing.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: Beautiful day, isn't it?

OLDER WOMAN: About time. First day I've been out this spring. And those scientists talk about global warming.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: The cold spell is actually... So, are you retired?

OLDER WOMAN: (laughs) An old bitty like me, of course I am. But I supported myself for over forty years. I hope a young man like you pays his taxes, I'm worried about my social security check.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: I do. But I'm kind of between jobs right now so I'm not paying too much.

OLDER WOMAN: Between jobs? A man ought to work. Hell, everyone ought to work.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: You're right. I'm trying to figure some things out. What did you do?

OLDER WOMAN: 'Figure things out'? You young people have a funny way of looking at things. In my time, you just worked pure and simple. I worked in a textile factory, sewing for twenty years, and then as supervisor for twenty more. That was hard, who knows how to sew anymore today? Those young girls weren't easy to manage.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: How did you pick that career?

OLDER WOMAN: It was a job. I knew how to sew and I got it. Simple. I think you young people think too much. Find something to do and do it.

Scene 3

The same bench, now Amaru stands, a younger man, tattoos visible on his tanned arms and skateboard at his feet, sits.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: Mind if I sit?

SKATEBOARDER: Go ahead, it's supposed to be a free country. Of course, that's bullshit.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: You're probably right. You think somewhere else is better?

SKATEBOARDER: I don't know, I haven't really been anywhere. Just to Belize once but that was for surfing. You?

THE MATHEMATICIAN: I'm American but I used to travel quite a bit. Mostly for work though.

SKATEBOARDER: That's cool. What do you do?

THE MATHEMATICIAN: I did research but I'm kind of in between now. What about you?

SKATEBOARDER: The same for me. I was in school but I stopped going. I can't stand to be indoors. I need to do something outside. My dad just doesn't get it.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: What does he do?

SKATEBOARDER: He owns a small insurance company. Built the whole thing from scratch. I used to work there in high school. He sent me to college thinking I'd come back ready to take over one day. Now I'm not even in college anymore.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: How'd he take that?

SKATEBOARDER: Not too good, but who can blame him? Guy works his ass off for thirty years and his kid turns out to be a slacker. But it's not even that. I just feel kinda sick when I'm indoors. Sitting in college classrooms was torture. I wish I was a better surfer or skier or something. I know a guy who teaches surfing in the summer and skiing in the winter.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: Maybe you could work on it.

SKATEBOARDER: Nah, truth is I wasn't too good at surfing. I got frustrated and spent most of the week smoking weed. And I've never skied but it seems so commercial you know. Maybe snowboarding would be cool.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: You could try it.

SKATEBOARDER: There's not too many mountains around here you know so...

THE MATHEMATICIAN: Colorado's not that far—

SKATEBOARDER: I stay with my dad, I can't really leave.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: You still working for him?

SKATEBOARDER: Indoors—no way. But my mom, she died like ten years ago, and he's all I got, so I gotta stay with him. Yeah, that's what I gotta do.

Scene 4

The same bench. Amaru sits next to a middle-aged Asian man who eats a burrito and drinks an orange Fanta.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: Nice day, huh?

BURRITO EATER: Yeah.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: That burrito looks good, maybe I'll get one. Did you get it near here?

BURRITO EATER: (points) Small place a few blocks down Richmond.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: Sorry for disturbing you.

BURRITO EATER: It's alright. I'm tired is all, the first Saturday I haven't worked in months.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: What do you do?

BURRITO EATER: I'm a forensic accountant.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: I used to be a numbers guy but I can't say I have any idea what forensic accounting means.

BURRITO EATER: I investigate large insurance claims. My current case involves a PVC manufacturer. The company opened a brand-new factory outside of St. Louis a few years back. Within six months, the factory building itself was showing some serious flaws and had to be completely shut down. Everyone, the company, the contractors have insurance, but who pays and how much? That's my job to figure that stuff out.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: You like it?

BURRITO EATER: I used to. I don't know anymore. We downsized, now I do twice the work. Just burnt out, I guess. What about you?

THE MATHEMATICIAN: I'm a mathematician but I may be in the process of changing careers.

BURRITO EATER: I used to love pure mathematics. You got family?

THE MATHEMATICIAN: No, you?

BURRITO EATER: Two kids. One's in college, an art major, the other graduated high school early and is traveling trying to find himself. Some sort of modern Jack Kerouac. It's so different.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: Different?

BURRITO EATER: In my culture, it used to be all about honoring one's parents. I don't think anyone dreams about being an accountant. In high school, I used to paint, saw myself as the next Jackson Pollock if you can believe that. But my dad worked two jobs to send me to college and I had an aptitude for numbers so there you go. Now I've turned into my father, working all the time to support a ceramics major and a kid who gets stoned at Rainbow gatherings. Go figure. But hey, you seem unattached, maybe you could go paint.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: Not much talent there but I'll give it some thought.

BURRITO EATER: (phone buzzes, reaches into his pocket) Excuse me. Hi... okay... I'll be there. That was my wife, plans changed, I have to run.

Scene 5

The same bench. Amaru sits next to a woman with his skin tone who looks to be about his age. Her hands are free but she fidgets and keeps glancing at him.

FIDGETER: It's cool if you want to sit here, but if you're going to try some pick-up bullshit, don't go there. I just can't take it.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: I can sit somewhere else, there's a free bench over there.

FIDGETER: It's okay. You look like a decent guy, but I had to be upfront with you.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: I'll be upfront too. I've been coming to this park a lot trying to talk to people. I'm trying to figure out what to do with my life. I thought talking to strangers might help.

FIDGETER: Has it?

THE MATHEMATICIAN: Has it?

FIDGETER: Has talking to strangers helped?

THE MATHEMATICIAN: Yes and no. I've learned that people do what they do for all kinds of reasons, and I'm more interested in people than I used to be but I still don't know what to do with my life.

FIDGETER: What did you do before?

THE MATHEMATICIAN: I was a mathematician.

FIDGETER: "Was"?

THE MATHEMATICIAN: I suffered an injury, a brain injury, now I just can't do it anymore. My brain doesn't work in that way now.

FIDGETER: I can relate. I've got some brain issues too.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: I'm sorry to hear it.

FIDGETER: I have panic disorder. The doctors say it's probably due to a "brain abnormality" since there's no family history for it or substance abuse or trauma in my past. One minute, I'm fine, the next, my brain goes crazy and I'm overtaken by fear and all I want to do is lie down in a dark room.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: That sounds really difficult. I'm sorry.

FIDGETER: Sorry? You didn't give it to me.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: I know, it's just an ex—

FIDGETER: Okay, okay. Let’s forget it.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: Okay.

FIDGETER: How's your family taking your condition?

THE MATHEMATICIAN: I don't think they understand. I was pretty successful at math so it doesn't seem real to them that I can't do it at all anymore. I just got to town a few weeks ago, staying with a cousin. He's cool but I think he's getting sick of me already. I've got to find a job and get my own place. What about your family?

FIDGETER: My parents are cool. I still live with them and they support me which kind of sucks when you're almost thirty but I'm doing better and I have a job now.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: What do you do?

FIDGETER: It's kind of a long story.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: I got time.

FIDGETER: I wanted to be a vet. This was before, you know, the attacks. They started when I was thirteen. But I still had that dream so even though high school was pretty rough, I went to college. It wasn't good. I was having an attack almost every week. Stress. I quit. Then I did nothing. But my dad, he kept pushing me to do something and all I could think of was animals. So I play with dogs.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: Play with dogs?

FIDGETER: I first tried to be a dog walker but I was out with one dog and I was walking along a busy street when an attack hit me. I dropped the leash and she ran out into traffic. It was a miracle she didn't get hit. Now I just go to people's houses and play with their dogs. I spend an hour with their dog in the middle of the day. If they have a yard of course I let them out to go to the bathroom, but no more walking.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: That sounds great.

FIDGETER: Sometimes after I play with them, especially if it's a big dog like a golden or a shepherd, I lie down with them and fall asleep.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: You have a lot of clients?

FIDGETER: Only four right now but two of them say they have friends who could use me. I'm not so good at advertising. Accounting either, but my mom takes care of all that. She's a whiz, kind of like you used to be, I guess.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: Yeah.

FIDGETER: Sorry, maybe that didn't come out right.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: It's okay. I was pretty down for a while but now I'm trying to face it in a more productive way. That's why I'm here. I'm Daniel.

FIDGETER: I'm Yazmin. (stands up) Good luck with dealing with that, but, hey, I've got to go. (begins to walk out)

THE MATHEMATICIAN: It was great talking to you, maybe—

Scene 6

A small restaurant. Small tables include settings and a single daisy in a small vase. A man sits alone at a table for four, a stack of papers piled in front of him. Amaru approaches him.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: Excuse me, are you the manager?

MANAGER: (removes his reading glasses) Yeah that's me. What's up?

THE MATHEMATICIAN: I'm Daniel. I'm friends with one of your cooks, Gil. He told me you guys really needed some kitchen help, like prep stuff, chopping vegetables maybe.

MANAGER: We do. Sit down.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: I'm ready to work.

MANAGER: Whoa, not so fast. Ever work in a kitchen before?

THE MATHEMATICIAN: No, but I'm a quick study and I want to work with my hands.

MANAGER: I don't know. I don't think Gil would send you here for nothing but chopping two hundred onions is no picnic. Got a resume I can see?

THE MATHEMATICIAN: No.

MANAGER: No? Your English is good but are you even legal? If not, forget it. Feds are cracking down on that stuff.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: I'm an American. (pulls a passport out of his pocket)

MANAGER: That's you alright. We've had three guys leave in the last two weeks so we really need someone. You must have had jobs before though. Can you at least tell me what you did?

THE MATHEMATICIAN: It was academic.

MANAGER: Academic?

THE MATHEMATICIAN: Research.

MANAGER: You got a college degree?

THE MATHEMATICIAN: Yes.

MANAGER: What are you doing here?

THE MATHEMATICIAN: I need to make a change. Like I said, I want to work with my hands.

MANAGER: What the hell, there's no rule against having a smart prep guy. Let's give it a try. I'm set for tonight but are you free tomorrow?

THE MATHEMATICIAN: Yes.

MANAGER: Good. We start serving at five so prep starts at three. Be here at two-thirty.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: That's perfect, thank you. (they shake, he stands up, and begins to walk away)

MANAGER: Hey—David?

THE MATHEMATICIAN: It's Daniel. Yes?

MANAGER: I'm not so good with names. Can you do me a favor?

THE MATHEMATICIAN: Sure.

MANAGER: Not even noon and I've already got a raging headache and three suppliers to call. Could you give me a few minutes today? We'll count it on tomorrow's time.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: Okay. What do I do?

MANAGER: These damn receipts. I just need you to go through them and—

THE MATHEMATICIAN: I can't.

MANAGER: It's simple, all you gotta do is—

THE MATHEMATICIAN: I'm sorry but I can't.

MANAGER: What the fuck?

THE MATHEMATICIAN: I really can't. It's hard to explain, but I can be here-

MANAGER: Forget it. You sit here and take up my time and you think I'm gonna hire a guy with that work ethic. Beat it.

Scene 7

A simple bar. A young bartender with a blue polo shirt tucked into dark jeans and hair in a ponytail.

BARTENDER: What can I get you?

THE MATHEMATICIAN: A double scotch. Neat.

As the bartender brings the drink, a forty-ish man holding a folded newspaper sits on the stool next to him. Amaru drinks the whole shot at once and signals the bartender.

NEWSPAPER GUY: Guess you were thirsty.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: Guess so. (bartender approaches) Another one.

NEWSPAPER GUY: Corona, please. I can't drink that hard stuff.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: It's an acquired taste.

NEWSPAPER GUY: I'm a beer guy. Of course, I have to watch it. It's pretty easy to start getting a belly at my age. You look familiar, have we met before?

THE MATHEMATICIAN: No.

NEWSPAPER GUY: Are you famous? I mean have I seen you on TV or anything?

THE MATHEMATICIAN: No.

NEWSPAPER GUY: You look like that guy, what's his name? From the sitcom. George Lopez, that's it. I mean you're younger of course, but he could be your older younger brother or something. Cheers.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: Cheers. (downs the second whiskey)

NEWSPAPER GUY: Tough day?

THE MATHEMATICIAN: Something like that.

NEWSPAPER GUY: I hear you. I come here to unwind as well. I sell medical equipment, radiology stuff, and spend my whole day talking to doctors. Some of these guys are unbelievable. Today I was talking to an MD/PhD. What a snob. I'm sure you know the old joke about the difference between God and doctors. This guy sure thought he was something else. What about you?

THE MATHEMATICIAN: I'm kind of in between things. (signals the bartender for another)

NEWSPAPER GUY: That's cool. Kind of a second career for me as well. It's not bad, good money, but it's tough being on the road so much. I miss the wife you know. You married?

THE MATHEMATICIAN: No.

NEWSPAPER GUY: I know I'm talking your ear off. My wife gets on me about that. It's just that, you know, it's good to talk to someone normal after a day of talking to those guys. But let me get to this crossword.

(The two sit in silence. Amaru drinking his scotch, the salesman making little progress on the puzzle)

NEWSPAPER GUY: You ever do crosswords?

THE MATHEMATICIAN: No.

NEWSPAPER GUY: I didn't either. I picked it up because I thought it'd make me look smart in front of those doctor types. You know the New York Times and all. I like them but they’re hard. Hey, look at this. (pushes the paper toward Amaru)

THE MATHEMATICIAN: Yeah?

NEWSPAPER GUY: They got this other puzzle in here, called "KenKen." It's a numbers puzzle. To tell you the truth, I like it better than the crossword.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: I'm not much for numbers.

NEWSPAPER GUY: Just take a look.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: No, that's okay.

NEWSPAPER GUY: Really check it out, it's fun and easy, especially the four-by-four grid. It's just, you know, basic arithmetic. See, these three squares add up to eight, while these two—

THE MATHEMATICIAN: (shouting) For Christ's sake, would you shut up?

Scene 8

The park bench. Yazmin is seated, this time she holds a closed book in her hands. Amaru approaches, his clothing is dirty and disheveled.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: What are you reading?

YAZMIN: Excuse me? (looks up) Oh, hi it's you.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: Yeah, it's me, Daniel. Hi.

YAZMIN: I remember. You look... you don't look so good. Want to sit down?

THE MATHEMATICIAN: Yes. (he sits, she faces him)

YAZMIN: So... what's up?

THE MATHEMATICIAN: I've been hoping to see you here.

YAZMIN: Why? I mean, I guess it's your lucky day, I don't come here that often. Especially now. I got more dogs so I'm busier.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: That's good.

YAZMIN: What about you?

THE MATHEMATICIAN: I need your help.

Scene 9

Same park bench. Amaru sits alone, talking on his cell phone. He looks cleaner and hair is combed.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: No, I don’t have insurance … What? … That’s why I called you, you are a public mental health clinic, right? … I don’t know, any appointment. Yes, general therapy … Fine, I can hold.

(Yazmin approaches)

THE MATHEMATICIAN: I’m on hold. The clinic. … Yes, I’m trying to get a therapy appointment. No, I told the other person, I don’t have insurance, that’s why I’m calling you damn it. Hey? Are you there? … What the fuck? They hung up on me, can you believe that?

YAZMIN: I would have hung up on you too. You need to calm down.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: Why should I? It’s so fucking frustrating.

YAZMIN: Stop it. Take out your list.

Amaru opens his mouth but doesn’t speak, then pulls a notebook from a backpack.

YAZMIN: Let’s review.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: We’ve done this so many times.

YAZMIN: I don’t care. Read me the top five items.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: I’ve already –

YAZMIN: Do it.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: One: get a job. Two: find a stable living situation. Three: get therapy. Four: find a purpose. Five: stop drinking.

YAZMIN: How many have you accomplished?

THE MATHEMATICIAN: Two.

YAZMIN: Which ones?

THE MATHEMATICIAN: You know which ones.

YAZMIN: Tell me again, full sentences please.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: Are you secretly a therapist on the side?

YAZMIN: Look, I’m just trying to help in the way I know how. I have to go to work soon. I can leave now.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: Sorry. I have a stable living situation for now. I’m pet sitting at my cousin’s friend’s house for the next month. Also, I haven’t had a drink in the last three weeks.

YAZMIN: Good. What is your priority of the last three?

THE MATHEMATICIAN: Getting a job I guess. Maybe I already have a therapist.

YAZMIN: Not funny.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: Okay.

YAZMIN: Do you have any job leads?

THE MATHEMATICIAN: I walked by a car wash that said “help wanted.”

YAZMIN: Gonna apply?

THE MATHEMATICIAN: I don’t know.

YAZMIN: Why not?

THE MATHEMATICIAN: It’s not my thing I guess.

YAZMIN: But you need a job.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: True.

YAZMIN: What drew you to math?

THE MATHEMATICIAN: What?

YAZMIN: Math, you loved math, right?

THE MATHEMATICIAN: Yes.

YAZMIN: Why?

There’s a long pause. They sit side by side, both looking out.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: The patterns I guess.

YAZMIN: Say more.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: Math is about solving problems through patterns. Even at the beginning, in algebra, I saw patterns in graphs, equations, factoring. It made sense when not much else did.

YAZMIN: What were you working on when you had the accident?

THE MATHEMATICIAN: The Riemann Hypothesis. Maybe the biggest unsolved problem in mathematics. Solutions to the zeta function in the complex plane which would tell us so much about prime numbers. And I was close. Or think I was. A million dollars for the solution which wasn’t the point. Though it’d be pretty helpful in my current state. Now, nothing.

Amaru leans forward and puts his head in his hands. Yazmin raises her hand as if to put it on his shoulder but she pulls it back without touching him.

YAZMIN: Maybe that’s your purpose.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: What?

YAZMIN: Finding patterns.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: I can’t do that anymore.

YAZMIN: Maybe not with numbers, but maybe shapes or colors or - oh, shit I gotta go. The number six bus better not be late.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: Is this the German shepherd?

YAZMIN: Yeah.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: Can I go with you?

YAZMIN: No.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: Just this once?

YAZMIN: No. It’s my job. I do it alone.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: But –

YAZMIN: Bye.

Yazmin walks off, Amaru sits on the bench alone, notebook open in his lap.

Scene 10

Amaru talks to a man seated behind a desk.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: I’m here to apply for a job.

CARWASH BOSS: Okay. Washed cars before?

THE MATHEMATICIAN: No, but—

CARWASH BOSS: Know anything about the business?

THE MATHEMATICIAN: What do you mean?

CARWASH BOSS: The business. How it works? Do you expect hourly wages? Tips? You know, the math of it all.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: I really don’t know that much about it.

CARWASH BOSS: That’s fine, I’m the boss, it’s my domain. But I need motivated self-starters. Fill this out.

He slides a piece of paper and pen across the desk. Amaru takes it.

CARWASH BOSS: I gotta check on the boys. Leave the paper here. I’ll call if we’re interested.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: What the—

Scene 11

Amaru sits in front of the same desk. This time he talks to a woman who looks to be about ten years older than Amaru.

SALES MANAGER: I have to be honest, you have a very pleasant demeanor but we hire very few men here.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: Why’s that?

SALES MANAGER: Well, good question. A lot of the job is folding and re-racking. Also answering the same question over and over again. Men just don’t seem to be very good at those things.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: I see. I can do this job.

SALES MANAGER: That’s a good attitude but do you even wear Old Navy? We’re not a high fashion house but you need to be aware of trends.

Amaru looks helplessly down at his shirt.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: I like patterns.

SALES MANAGER: Interesting answer. Look, I’d be inclined to give you a chance but I have two girls coming in this afternoon. One’s the cousin of my best salesgirl so I need to give her serious consideration for harmony’s sake, understand?

THE MATHEMATICIAN: Sure.

SALES MANAGER: Thank you for coming in, Donnie.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: It’s Daniel.

Scene 12

A bar. Amaru sits on a stool, a glass of dark liquid in front of him. He talks loudly on his phone.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: Look John, I can’t come back, what the hell would I do? … Yeah, yeah, you keep telling me, I was the most brilliant blah blah blah. I keep telling you I can’t do it anymore. … What? I’m in a – a place. It’s loud. Migraines, I get fucking migraines if I even think about my old research. Migraines, you know, headaches.

NEARBY PATRON: Hey buddy, do you mind, you’re shouting here.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: Fuck off.

NEARBY PATRON: Back at you jerkoff.

Amaru stands, a balding bartender approaches.

BARTENDER 2: Gentlemen, please. And sir, you are loud. It’s been half an hour on one Coke. Can I get you something else?

THE MATHEMATICIAN: Scotch. Make it a double.

Scene 13

The park bench. Yazmin sits alone. Amaru approaches, gait unsteady.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: Hey.

Yazmin stays silent. A dog barks in the distance. Amaru reaches the bench and holds on to it as if to stabilize himself.

YAZMIN: I heard you.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: How are you?

YAZMIN: I’m okay. My client changed plans so no work today.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: Sucks.

YAZMIN: It’s ok, she Venmoed me the money anyway.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: Oh cool. Shit, I better sit down.

He half sits, half topples onto the bench. Yazmin has to jerk to avoid Amaru landing on her lap.

YAZMIN: Shit Daniel. Oh, you stink.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: I just—

YAZMIN: You just broke number five. It’s one in the afternoon. And in a big way by the looks of it. I’m out.

Yazmin stands, Amaru grabs her wrist.

YAZMIN: Don’t touch me. I’m not your therapist. I’m not your girlfriend. I’m out.

She pulls away from him and walks off.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. Can I call you? Yazmin! I’m sorry. Do you hear me? Can I call you? I don’t have your number. Why didn’t you give it to me? Why? Why?

Scene 14

The same bench, light is dimmer, late afternoon. Amaru sits slumped over. The older woman from Act 1 approaches.

OLDER WOMAN: It’s you.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: Huh?

OLDER WOMAN: I never forget a face. I saw you here before. You look worse.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: What?

OLDER WOMAN: I thought we talked about you getting a job.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: I applied for several.

OLDER WOMAN: Several? This is a city. There’s a job on every corner.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: Why do you care?

OLDER WOMAN: Good question. I just think people should work is all.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: Fine. Shit, what time is it?

OLDER WOMAN: Almost six.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: Damn, I gotta go. The dog… (Amaru stands, the woman sits)

OLDER WOMAN: Clean yourself up, you’ll never get a job looking like that.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: Whatever.

Scene 15

Amaru walks a smallish dog on a leash toward a flower stand. An old man lifts a white bucket of flowers and slips, twisting his knee. He cries out in pain and the flowers and water spill everywhere. Amaru rushes over.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: Sir, let me help you.

FLOWER VENDOR: This damn knee. Whoa, not so fast, I need to sit for a minute. The bucket goes in the shed, don’t worry about the flowers, the stems are broken. Take ’em, give ’em to your girl.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: I don’t… are you okay?

FLOWER VENDOR: Yes. No. I gotta get this knee replaced. My nephew, he's a hotshot surgeon down in Jalisco state, he says “Come down Tio, I’ll fix you up, better than new.” I don’t know. Okay, you can help me up now.

Amaru helps the man to a standing position. He’s breathing hard and sits down on a small white bench in front of his stand.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: Can I do anything to help?

FLOWER VENDOR: (laughs) Maybe you oughta give your pup some water.

Amaru sees the dog licking up some of the spilled water.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: (laughs) Oh geez, I’ll keep that in mind. But really sir, I’d like to help you.

FLOWER VENDOR: Okay, all these buckets go in the shed. It’s a tight fit. Kind of a geometry problem. I’ll hold your dog.

Amaru gives the man the leash and begins to move the buckets into the shed. The man strokes the dog’s chin.

FLOWER VENDOR: What’s his name?

THE MATHEMATICIAN: Colbert. I’m watching him for a friend.

FLOWER VENDOR: Listen to me, asking for the dog’s name before yours. My wife always said I had no manners.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: I’m Daniel.

FLOWER VENDOR: Francisco. Thank you, that was a big help. Sit down.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: How’s the knee?

FRANCISCO: It’ll be okay. I should get it done. If my wife were around, she’d make me do it. She died last year.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: I’m sorry.

FRANCISCO: No, I don’t know why I’m telling you this. I’m a foolish old man I guess. Maybe these flowers have finally gotten to me.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: How long have you been here?

FRANCISCO: 25 years. Can you believe that? A quarter century right here. Every day except Wednesdays, 10 - 6.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: That’s a lot.

FRANCISCO: It’s been good. You know anything about the flower business?

THE MATHEMATICIAN: Can’t say I do.

FRANCISCO: Most people don’t think about it, but flowers are there at the most important times. Weddings, funerals, proposals, when people feel sad, feel happy, always flowers.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: That’s true.

FRANCISCO: Those last buckets you put away were my bouquets. They’re my specialty. People say they can’t find anything like ’em.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: You make them?

FRANCISCO: The truck comes every Thursday, in time for the weekend. All patterns, sizes, shapes, colors. I make something different every week.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: For twenty-five years?

FRANCISCO: Yes sir. About ten years ago, there was this lady. Her kid was killed, random shooting, crossfire, terrible. She came every day and bought two flowers. At the end of the week, she’d put them into a bouquet that she’d leave on his grave. Then the next week, the same. But it had to be different combinations. For a whole year.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: That’s incredible.

FRANCISCO: Listen to me. I’m turning into a sentimental old fool. Must be the knee.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: What happened?

FRANCISCO: What?

THE MATHEMATICIAN: To the woman?

FRANCISCO: She moved. Said she couldn’t live in this city anymore. For a while she sent postcards to my wife and me.

The men sit in silence for a while, the dog curls up at Amaru’s feet.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: I should go. Maybe this dog needs food in addition to water.

FRANCISCO: (laughs) Good point.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: What are you going to do about the knee?

FRANCISCO: Maybe it’s time to give it all up. My wife’s gone, my cousin used to help, he moved back to Oaxaca. My daughter says to come live with her. She’s a good girl. Engineer. This stand put her through college. Shit, I’m getting sentimental again.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: I need – I mean, maybe I could help. If you get the knee done, I could run the stand. I mean if—

FRANCISCO: You need a job?

THE MATHEMATICIAN: It’s a story but yeah.

FRANCISCO: It’s all about patterns.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: Maybe I can do that.

FRANCISCO: Be here Thursday morning at 8:30 after the truck comes. We’ll see what you can do.

Scene 16

The flower stand, same two men, no dog. A folding table is piled high with flowers, empty white buckets underneath.

FRANCISCO: I want twelve bouquets, three sizes so four of each size but make them all different.

Amaru takes a visible deep breath.

FRANCISCO: You ok?

THE MATHEMATICIAN: It’s the numbers… never mind, I’m fine. I can do this.

FRANCISCO: Good. I’ll get the stand-alones ready so I’m outta your way. “Stop hovering” my wife used to say.

Amaru takes his time moving flowers around into different piles. Francisco puts bundles of alike flowers into buckets then disappears into the shed. Amaru continues to move flowers one by one before coming to a stop.

FRANCISCO: You done?

THE MATHEMATICIAN: Think so.

Francisco inspects carefully.

FRANCISCO: Not bad.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: Really?

FRANCISCO: Pretty good. I don’t like all the color matchups–too much yellow in the small bouquets—but you have a good sense of shape, geometry. Ever do any design work?

THE MATHEMATICIAN: Not exactly. A little geometry in a way.

FRANCISCO: You’ve got a sense. You serious about watching this place? My knee’s been killing me. My cousin says he can get me on the table anytime.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: I can do it.

FRANCISCO: Let’s work together today then we’ll talk. But you have to be serious. This is my life, my purpose. You understand that?

Scene 17

The flower stand, just Amaru. A young woman approaches.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: Are you looking for anything particular?

CUSTOMER 1: I’m not sure. It’s my anniversary. I want something special.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: Congratulations. How long?

CUSTOMER 1: Two months. I’m taking my girlfriend to our favorite Thai place—it’s just down the street, know it?

THE MATHEMATICIAN: I don’t think so.

CUSTOMER 1: Thai 55, it’s really good, you should try. I’m going to bring them the flowers and they’ll have them on the table as a surprise.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: That’s very nice. Does she have a favorite flower?

CUSTOMER 1: I don’t think so. I never bought her flowers before.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: Oh.

Amaru walks out from behind the counter in the shed and the two look at the bouquets together. He picks up a medium-sized bouquet with two prominent sunflowers.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: What about this one?

CUSTOMER 1: It’s nice, but it might be too big. The tables are small.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: Do you have any color preferences?

CUSTOMER 1: I’m not sure.

Amaru puts the bouquet back and picks a small one, lots of pinks, reds, and oranges.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: What about this one? It’s bold, some people might think it clashes but I think of it as an explosion of joy.

CUSTOMER 1: Explosion of joy… I like that. I’ll take it.

Scene 18

The flower stand. Amaru behind the counter. A middle-aged man approaches.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: Good morning.

CUSTOMER 2: Good morning. Where’s Francisco?

THE MATHEMATICIAN: He’s out for a while. I’m looking after the stand.

CUSTOMER 2: He didn’t say anything. Is he okay?

THE MATHEMATICIAN: He had knee replacement surgery. He’s recovering now, should be back in a few weeks.

CUSTOMER 2: Man, that’s tough. I’m Alex, did he tell you about me?

THE MATHEMATICIAN: I’m not sure. I mean he probably did, but there’s been a lot to learn.

CUSTOMER 2: I come every week at this time. I bring flowers to my mother. She’s in a home. “The blue bouquet.”

THE MATHEMATICIAN: Oh, right, it’s Thursday afternoon. I have it here. He told me to make it and put it aside.

Amaru reaches behind him and pulls out a medium-sized bouquet, different shades of blue. He hands it slowly to Alex who takes it and looks it over.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: I hope it’s okay.

CUSTOMER 2: It looks good. Thank you. I have this theory about the color blue and serotonin activation but I don’t even know if my mother knows they’re there. I guess it’s about all I can do.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: I’m sorry, that sounds difficult.

CUSTOMER 2: Yeah, well, it is what it is. Tell Francisco I said to get better and get back to work.

Scene 19

Amaru sits alone, holding two red poppies. The skateboard kid whizzes in.

SKATEBOARDER: Hey. I saw you here before, right?

THE MATHEMATICIAN: You talked about your dad.

SKATEBOARDER: Yeah, aren’t those California poppies?

THE MATHEMATICIAN: Yes.

SKATEBOARDER: Cool. I know my stuff. I got a job. I’m a landscaper now.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: That’s great.

SKATEBOARDER: It’s pretty cool. My dad’s even happy about it. I got a girlfriend too.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: You want to give her these?

SKATEBOARDER: Really? She’d love ’em. Red’s her favorite color.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: They’re all yours.

SKATEBOARDER: Thanks man, I gotta go.

Scene 20

The park bench. Amaru sits alone, he holds two irises. The burrito eater walks past and stops.

BURRITO EATER: Hi. We met here before I think. A few months ago.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: Forensic accounting.

BURRITO EATER: Good memory. You did something with math?

THE MATHEMATICIAN: Used to. I’m selling flowers now.

BURRITO EATER: Do you like it?

THE MATHEMATICIAN: It’s pretty good. There’s some patterns there too. Maybe not like your work but…

BURRITO EATER: Tell me about it. I just got back from St. Louis. What a mess.

Movement is heard offstage. Amaru looks to his left.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: Sorry, I gotta go.

Amaru runs off. At the edge of the stage he almost collides with Yazmin, who’s walking a medium-sized dog, a tan Australian shepherd with gray patches on her coat.

YAZMIN: Watch out! You’ll scare—oh, it’s you.

Amaru stops and takes a step back. He’s breathing hard. The irises hang limp in his hand.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: Sorry, I didn’t mean to. Are you walking dogs now?

YAZMIN: No, she’s mine. Chloe.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: Wow. She’s beautiful.

YAZMIN: Thank you. My parents like her too.

They stand apart. Yazmin adjusts Chloe’s collar. Amaru’s free hand fidgets with his belt buckle.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: Can we sit?

YAZMIN: I guess so. I don’t have too much time though. I have to get home. It’s my Dad’s birthday.

They walk to the bench and sit about two feet apart. Chloe plops down at Yazmin’s feet.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: It’s been a while. Maybe six weeks.

YAZMIN: That sounds right.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: How’s your business?

YAZMIN: It’s good. Seven dogs now.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: That’s great.

YAZMIN: Yeah. Look, I –

THE MATHEMATICIAN: Wait. Don’t leave yet. I need to, I mean I’m sorry about before.

YAZMIN: It’s your life.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: I know it was. It is. But you were trying to help. And I… Can I go through the list with you?

YAZMIN: Okay.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: I’ll go backwards. Number five: I’ve only had one drink since I saw you and that was four weeks ago. Half a beer. I poured out the rest.

YAZMIN: Okay.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: Number four: I’m not sure but I might be a business owner. Number three: I had a couple therapy sessions but it’s been hard because I’m working a lot now. The therapist gave me some strategies on coping with anger.

YAZMIN: Do they work?

THE MATHEMATICIAN: A little. I still get angry sometimes but not so bad. Number two: I’m back with my cousin, but I signed a six-month lease on a room and will be moving there on the first of the month.

YAZMIN: Good.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: Number one: I have a job. I run a flower stand. The owner had to go to Mexico for knee surgery. He’s back now but he can only stand for a few hours a day. So he keeps me on. He’s older. We’re talking about me taking over the business. I need to find someone who can help with the numbers.

YAZMIN: Do you like it?

THE MATHEMATICIAN: I think so. There’s lots of patterns in flowers. And they make people happy. Or less sad sometimes. These are for you.

Amaru holds out the irises.

YAZMIN: For me?

THE MATHEMATICIAN: I’ve been coming here almost every day with two flowers for you. There’s a beautiful story behind the two flowers. It’s sad though.

YAZMIN: I’ll take one.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: One?

YAZMIN: It would be nice to each have one. Maybe that means we’ll see each other again.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: Really? Can I have—

YAZMIN: No. I don’t trust you yet. Where is your stand?

THE MATHEMATICIAN: Not too far. On Redwood, just off 30th.

YAZMIN: I know where that is. Chloe and I might walk by.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: I’d like that. I’m there every day but Tuesday.

YAZMIN: I really have to go. I’m glad you’re doing better.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: Thank you. For everything.

YAZMIN: I like irises. They’re resilient.

She stands and looks at her flower. Amaru stands. She turns and begins to walk off.

YAZMIN: Bye.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: See you. (Yazmin waves and exits the stage)

Amaru sits back down and looks at the remaining iris.

THE MATHEMATICIAN: I hope so.

Lights fade, curtain closes.

The first eight scenes of "The Mathematician" were previously published in Issue 2 of The Hooghly Review.

François Bereaud

The Mathematician