BOLO: You're here long enough, you'll see it all. Funny, we get more calls from guys who want the fem-dom stuff than the other way.

LYZA: Why is that funny?

BOLO: Not funny ha-ha, just…weird, you know what I mean?

LYZA: It's just sex…different strokes (She giggles.) and all that. The hardest thing is not laughing. I mean, it's so silly. Silly and sad. You think they're married, most of these guys'

BOLO: No way to tell. This ain't no survey we're running here, right? I mean, all of them, they got to have some kind of money…or credit, anyway. Otherwise, we don't take the calls. When you think about it, it's crazy. I mean, for what they spend for an hour on the phone, they could buy the real thing.

LYZA: Well, maybe they don't want the real thing. You know how they say nothing's as good as your imaginations Maybe that's it.

BOLO: Marcy, one of the girls that was here the longest, she would come in sometimes, work over where you are. She always said she didn't mind any of it…like she was working a suicide hot line or something. Only thing she didn't like was when they were mean.

LYZA: Like that guy who wanted to spank me?

BOLO: No. I can't explain what she meant. Some of them, they're just ugly…like they really want to hurt the girls. Marcy, she used to get them a lot. I don't know why.

LYZA: What does she do, Marcy? In real life, I mean.

BOLO: I don't know. She quit a few weeks ago. Some of them do. Listen, you get one of those calls, like we were talking about, you just give me the high sign and we'll cut it off. It's no problem…he calls back, I'll switch him to one of the others.

LYZA: You're sweet. (Bending down, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek) But you don't have to worry about me. I'm a pro.

BOLO: (Looking at her closely) Sure.

(The phone rings. BOLO goes through his routine, but this caller obviously doesn't want to reveal his preferences to the screener. BOLO insists on checking his credit card before he can talk to a woman, any woman, but promises him he can speak to Caroline. BOLO walks over to the chart (the phone has a long cord), points to the word SCREENER in capital letters, points to her. LYZA: nods, goes back to the perch on the desk, takes a long yellow pad and pen, nods the "go ahead" to BOLO. But BOLO is not satisfied. He walks over to where she's sitting, leaving the phone on hold.)

BOLO: Look, I've heard this guy's voice before. Can't remember exactly, but he's a freak. Don't use any of the names on the chart. First you're Caroline, that's the screener. After that, he'll tell you want he wants, just make up a name, okay'

LYZA: Okay, baby. Stop fussing.

(BOLO punches a button, pointing to her again. He kicks the digital counter into life.)

LYZA: Hi! I'm Caroline. How can I help you? (Pause) I see. Why of course, sir. I think little…ah, Melissa is just the girl for you. She's only eleven years…(Pause) Why, you're right, now that I look more closely, she's only nine. Such a pretty little girl too. How would that be? Would you like to be with her? She's a really lovely little girl, and very, very sweet. How would that be? (Pause) Well, okay, then, I'll just go in the back and get her ready for you. I won't be a minute, you just hang on.

(LYZA bounces off the desk, offers another high five to BOLO, who ignores it.)

BOLO: I know this guy. He's called before. He'll never talk to me.

LYZA: Oh, he's just shy.

BOLO: You can handle it?

LYZA: In my sleep, baby. It's a role, playing a role.

BOLO: Yeah.

(LYZA walks off into the next room, swinging her hips in an exaggerated fashion, tossing her head.) 

LYZA: (Breathless, little-girl voice.) Hi. I'm Melissa. (Pause) I'm nine years old, on my last birthday. (Pause) Yes, Daddy. (Pause) Yes, I love to play games. (Pause) I have on a pretty little pinafore. It's all white and starched, with a petticoat. And white socks and little black shoes with straps. And a white ribbon in my hair. (Pause) No, silly, little girls don't wear bras (Giggles) I don't have a bra. (Pause) Why they're white too, Daddy. White cotton, with little red hearts on them. They're so pretty. (Pause) Oh, Daddy, that's naughty. I shouldn't show you my panties. (Pause) Oh yes, Daddy. I'll be good. I'm your good little girl. (LYZA is on the couch now, in a little-girl posture. She makes a shy gesture like lifting her skirt, bows her head like she's blushing.) Oh yes! Daddy. I love to sit on your lap. (Pause) Yes, Daddy. You want me to dance for you, Daddy? Dance and sing? (Pause) I'm sorry, Daddy. I'll be good. Melissa will be the best little girl in the world, you'll see. I'll do just what you tell me. (Pause. LYZA sits sidesaddle on the couch, wiggling like she's finding a place on a lap.) Oh, Daddy, don't make me do that. (Pause) No, Daddy! That's bad! Melissa doesn't like that. That's a bad game. Please, please, Daddy. (Crying now) I don't want a nice dress. I'll tell….(Pause) No, Daddy, no, please. I didn't mean it. I won't tell. It's our secret, Daddy. I do love you, Lyza loves you, I swear. (BOLO whips his head around at the change of name.) I'll be good. So good. (Pause) Daddy, I don't want to do that…it tastes…Daddy, that hurts. Not Melissa…Please, please, don't…(Loses it, slams down the phone. Rolls over on the couch, crying.)

(BOLO comes running in, looking confused and angry. LYZA: is on her knees now, face on the couch. BOLO awkwardly pats her, coaxes her to her feet. He talks her into the other room, as though taking her out of the zone of danger. She slumps against him. He has to half-carry her out.)

BOLO: (Laying LYZA: down on the couch in the front room. A long minute of comforting, with appropriate BOLO ad libs here. Finally…) You okay?

LYZA: It…happened. Flash. Flash. Flashback. My Daddy…

BOLO: It s just a…

LYZA: Daddy! (She whirls and slams her fist into the wall.) Daddy! Daddy! Daddy! (Now she's wrecking the place, sweeping things off the desk, screaming without words. She tries to say something, but gags on the words…like something too ugly to swallow is stuck in her throat. BOLO hauls her away, lifting her right off the ground, wraps his arms around her, crooning into her ear, being comforting, not knowing how to do it. Finally…)

BOLO: Well, I guess that's one freak who won't be calling back. It's fantasy they want, everything going the way they want…the way you went off on him…Jesus…it's like it was really happening.

LYZA: I…remember.

BOLO: It's okay. It's over. Just a game, right, baby? A game that got out of hand. I…(LYZA doubles over, likes she's going to throw up. Then goes rigid, near-catatonic as…the phone rings.)

BOLO: AYW Enterprises. How can I help you? Yes sir. You want (BOLO looks at LYZA, getting it for the first time, sharing it.)…Melissa?

(Freeze. Hold. Blackout.)

Bridge

Scene 1

Interior of a Solarium, an open, well–lit area furnished in "conversation–pit" style. The placement of chairs, small tables, and a single sofa suggests the ability to have private conversations. The room is clean, with cheery posters along the back wall, ranging from the standard "Today is The First Day of the Rest of Your Life" to New Age photos of soaring sea gulls with "Freedom" lettered across the bottom. The front of the stage is perceived as all glass by the actors—a gradually varying broad spot is the afternoon sun. The back wall has windows too, much smaller ones. The presence of bars suggests maybe this isn't a convalescent home.