Better Places to Go

tosses the map to the floor.) They like your type out there. Maybe you two freaks will even get married.

RICARDO. Well, if we do, you’re not invited.

ROSIE. This is cute, Ricardo, how you’re running away with your retard all in the name of love and shit like that. You got your little bag and a wild look in your eyes. Or maybe you’ve been crying. But your family — your poor, poor sister — who’s going to look after her when you’re gone? Your father? He blames himself every day for what he’s done. (Beat.) Wasn’t he the one who was driving?

RICARDO. It won’t work, Rosie. Not this time. I’m not buying.

ROSIE. I’m not selling.

RICARDO. What do you want from me?

ROSIE. I thought you were Catholic.

RICARDO. I am.

ROSIE. They didn’t teach you in church that what you’re doing is wrong? They didn’t tell you that having a fag for a son is the biggest disappointment to a mother and a father? No one mentioned that you were going to burn in hell for being a homo? (Beat.) Help me out here, Ricardo. I’m confused. I seem to remember a night or two you and I spent together.

RICARDO. You’re delusional. You and I never slept together.

ROSIE. You can’t blame a girl for trying.

RICARDO. I fell for your act. But I know you now. You’re a spider.

ROSIE. You were new in town. A novelty. A Mexican who could speak English without spitting on me. Really, Ricardo, did you think you and I were gonna date? Run away and get married? God, you’re so stupid. You were a new flavor I wanted to try. That’s all. (Beat.) Little did I know you’d punk out once your pants were off.

RICARDO. That was two years ago. That was before—

ROSIE. Before you decided to turn into a big homo?

RICARDO. I’m not. You wouldn’t understand. And keep your mouth shut or else I’ll tell Della you’ve been snaking money out of the donation box.

ROSIE. Like they even give that money to the crippled children. That church puts every dime in their fat pockets. A bunch of hypocrites. (Beat.) Just like you, sad boy.

RICARDO. There’s nothing going on between me and Derek.

ROSIE. Look me in the eye and say it again.

RICARDO. Why? You’re not my mother.

ROSIE. Does she know? Have you told her yet? That she won’t be having any grandchildren because you’re doing a retard up the ass?

RICARDO. Jealous?

ROSIE. I don’t understand what you see in Derek. He’s a freak. (Beat.) Or maybe that’s why you do it to him. Because you feel sorry for him. Because you want to be his little Latin hero. (Beat.) Wow. And you say I’m the twisted one.

RICARDO. You’re just pissed because I wouldn’t have sex with you. (Beat.) Let it go, Rosie. Get over it.

ROSIE. You’re wrong. I don’t hold grudges. (Beat.) I get even.

RICARDO. (He grabs her; shakes her violently. She loves it, screams with pleasure.) You want me to make love to you, is that it?

ROSIE. (Animalistic:) Do it!

RICARDO. What do you want me to do? (He shoves her against a wall, pinning her.)

ROSIE. (She clings to him, wild with passion.) Prove it to me, fast boy.

RICARDO. You think if I have sex with you, I’m a man?

ROSIE. I know you want it. You’re just scared. Let me help you. (She starts to unbuckle his belt.) Come on, Ricardo. Show me what you’ve got.

RICARDO. (He holds her face in his hands, kisses her with fierceness. He pulls away from her. She is breathless.) Satisfied?

ROSIE. (Trembling:) Not even close.

RICARDO. Maybe you’d like a taste of your own medicine.

ROSIE. (Quiet.) You bastard.

RICARDO. If I’m gonna make love to a woman, it certainly won’t be you.

ROSIE. You won’t find anyone better in Grand Island.

RICARDO. I already have.

ROSIE. So, you finally admit it? You’re in love with him.

RICARDO. No matter what I am, you’re still a piece of trash.

ROSIE. Sticks and stones, Ricardo.

RICARDO. (Suddenly:) Your mother left because she hated you.

ROSIE. (Caught off guard:) What?

RICARDO. You heard me. She couldn’t stand the sight of you. Left you here to rot away with your grandmother. And she doesn’t even want you.

ROSIE. Fuck you!

RICARDO. You don’t know who your father is because your mother was a bigger whore than you are.

ROSIE. I’ll kill you, you son of a bitch!

RICARDO. Yeah, you can dish it out, but you can’t take it.

ROSIE. I’m warning you!

RICARDO. What are you planning to do, Rosie? Sleep your way out of Grand Island? Let the first truck driver you see have his way with you, hoping he lets you come along for the ride? You’re no different than Judy. You’re no different than Britney or Lucille. You’re no different than me.

ROSIE. Don’t you think I know that?!

(A moment passes between them, a point of no return. They lock eyes, speaking silently, understanding one another. Outside, it has started to rain. A strange sense of calm creeps in.)

RICARDO. It’s raining.

ROSIE. I guess the storm finally hit.

RICARDO. You need a ride home later?

ROSIE. Aren’t you the gentleman?

RICARDO. I don’t want you walking home in the rain.

ROSIE. I can take care of myself.

RICARDO. I know. (Beat.) That’s what scares me.

ROSIE. Everything scares you.

RICARDO. (He notices the mess:) What in the hell happened in here?

ROSIE. (She starts cleaning up, including the silverware.) I dropped the silverware.

RICARDO. You want me to help you clean it up?

ROSIE. Don’t worry about it.

RICARDO. I think we should close up.

ROSIE. Anxious to get on the road?

RICARDO. I want to get out town before the storm gets bad.

ROSIE. Did you ever consider that maybe I wanted to be the one to run away with you? (Beat.) I’ll miss you, you fucker.

RICARDO. (Beat.) The feeling is mutual.

ROSIE. You’re not the only one who dreams about leaving this place.

RICARDO. You would really do it? You’d leave your Grandmother?