Cold War Luck

Here it is, my first attempt at play writing. I got the idea from a fun story generator and the play wrote itself rather organically. If I had to edit it, I would try to add more humor and Russian puns; I wanted it to have an air of whimsy.

Cold War Luck: Playwriting

Cold War Luck

By

Callie Lopshire-Bratt

Characters:

Bill: a stressed psychiatrist, divorced from his socialite wife, yet still adores her. Deals in psychoanalysis and is very good at his job. Successful and a typical all-American man.

Carolina: a beautiful Russian spy living in the United States. Rather bubbly and empty-headed, surprised at her ability to survive as a spy as she speaks broken English at best. Must have a huge amount of luck to have survived thus far, and indeed situations always go her way. Has just received orders to find a husband to better camouflage herself.

Scene 1

Open curtains to a party in full swing in the 1950s. Women and men stand chatting and laughing around the couches, the high shrill laughter of women mingling with the smoke in the room. The room itself is done in red velvet, a throwback to the older era of New York, very gothic and rich-looking. A dark-wood table is off to the side, covered in whiskey glasses and bottles. The lights are set to low, casting a sultry yet seedy light over the party. One woman is standing by herself, her dress silky and straight, at odds with the flared dresses of others. Blonde and beautiful, she stands out like a sore thumb with her long hair among the brunette bobs. A man approaches her, nervous in his tweed-brown suit.

BILL: (nervously) You look lonely. Are you, you know, waiting for anyone?

CAROLINA: (with a noticeably bad attempt at masking her Russian accent) I’m a friend of….(with an air of grasping at straws) Mary’s. I’m just waiting here for her so we can go home.

BILL: Mary who?

CAROLINA: Mary (long pause while she desperately tries to think of an answer in English, then triumphantly) Miller!

BILL: There’s no Mary Miller here. (Carolina waits with bated breath for her discovery) She must have stood you up!

CAROLINA: (relaxing visibly) Why, what a horrible woman. (Suddenly remembers her orders to find a husband, and begins studying Bill intently)

BILL: So….what are you doing here? (he shifts uncomfortably under her gaze)

CAROLINA: Well, I was waiting for Mary, but since she stood me up, I guess I should go home. It was nice to meet you...

BILL: Bill.

CAROLINA: It was nice to meet you, Bill. (Moves towards the coat rack)

BILL: Don't go, can I get you a, a drink? (seems startled that he just asked a beautiful woman to get a drink)

CAROLINA: Sure, what about a vodka?

BILL: That Soviet swill? (laughs) We're in America, baby!

CAROLINA: (nervously) Ha, ha. I was just joking...what about...(desperately trying to think of an American drink) whiskey?

BILL: Sure thing! (moves out of sight to drink table)

A single light shines on CAROLINA, as she enters into a solioquy. Silence falls as everyone else on stage freezes in place.

CAROLINA: Whew, that was lucky. I can't believe no one has noticed that I have a Russian accent! Or that I'm terrible at this spying thing. My handler just instructed me to find a husband for better cover, so maybe this man will do? He's very....American.

BILL reenters into the spotlight. The moment is broken, and the rest of the people on stage start moving and chatting again.

BILL: Here's your whiskey. I put it on the rocks, hope that's okay.

CAROLINA: (takes a sip from her drink she takes from BILL) So, Bill, what do you do for a living?

BILL: I'm a psychoanalyist. (CAROLINA starts, frightened) Don't worry, I can't just look at you and see all your secrets.

CAROLINA: Well, that's a relief. (She laughs, relieved)

BILL: What about you....

CAROLINA: Carolina.

BILL: What about you, Carolina?

CAROLINA: Well, I'm an...accountant.

BILL: How interesting! You meet so few female accountants. With what firm?

CAROLINA: Um, well, actually I'm an unemployed accountant (again with an air of making things up)

BILL: I'm sorry to hear that. (Suddenly snaps his fingers) That's who you remind me of!

CAROLINA: I'm sorry?

BILL: You remind me of Natalia Makarova, that Russian ballerina who defected!

CAROLINA: (terrified) You don't think I'm from the Soviet Union, do you? (prepares to go down fighting)

BILL: Don't be ridiculous, of course you're American! You're too beautiful to be a Soviet spy. (realizes what he just says and turns bright red)

CAROLINA: (laughs) I like you, Bill. Shall we dance?

BILL: (offering his arm, which she takes) We shall.

THE PAIR dances off stage. Close curtain.