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1936. Blanche DuBois is 19 years old. She is studying at the University of Mississippi. It is two years after the death of her late husband, Allan Grey.
[It is dark outside. Not yet to the point of the sky turning black, but a deep blue, reminiscent of the ocean. It is a full moon, but still the light is limited, it is covered by clouds. The street lights, too, don’t provide enough light for things to be seen clearly. They flicker unpredictably, the dull yellow glow only serving to attract moths and mosquitoes and the likes of other small, flying bugs. Blanche has left her dorm, located within the university campus, and is walking warily down the infamous “lover’s lane”, not too far from campus. She is dressed in all white. A nearly ankle length dress, puffed up by a large petticoat, causing her skirt to swing from side to side with every move she takes. It is impractical. She stands out in the dark of the dusk. She wears white kitten heels, and despite the heels being low, and something she would be used to, her steps seem unsure, and unpracticed.]
Shep: {Walking over to Blanche casually, still a good few metres away. With a light air of surprise.} Well, well! Miss DuBois in all her glory!
Blanche: {Brightening up, making an effort to walk a little faster towards him.} Oh, Shep! I was worried I wouldn’t find you, but here you are, bright light a kind beacon of light in all this darkness!
Shep: {Laughingly, a lightly teasing air to his voice, but in no way intentionally impolite.} I could say the same for you, Blanche. I was wondering why you did call me earlier. But I now see that you wished to match the colour of our outfits! Now we really look like a couple.
[He gestures down to his outfit. Similarly to Blanche, he is dressed in all light colours. Cream coloured slacks, a crisp white button up, a silky cream vest, and matching jacket, a small, ornate pocket watch hanging from the buttonhole of his vest. His shoes and belt are the only dark parts of his outfit, fashioned out of a polished brown leather. His hair is a sandy blonde, combed back neatly, opting not to wear a hat. His blue eyes make his stares and looks more obvious, but those never land upon her. He stands with a small bouquet of flowers for Blanche, containing, red roses, white lilies, baby’s breath, forget-me-nots, daffodils, blue tulips, and white chrysanthemums, among other flowers. Both his way of dress, way of loving and pride is similar to that of a swan’s.]
Blanche: {Taking the flowers, looking up at him sweetly as they reach each other, avoiding the playful jab about the earlier phone call.} W-well! What a coincidence! I must say I did not plan for this.
So, where are you taking us, darling Shep?
Shep: Wouldn’t you like to know? {He retorts, in the same playful tone as her.}
Why, I’m taking us to see the pictures! Ever heard of a drive-in cinema, Blanche?
{He takes her hand, starting to walk towards his car, which isn’t too far. A white Cadillac, typical of the time. He opens the passenger door for her, and she gets inside, while he walks over to the other side, entering the car as well.}
Blanche: Why, I think so! The girls in class have mentioned it. You go watch the pictures…in a car, on a large screen–correct?
{She asks, a little skeptical. Clearly not what she expected, especially from a man like Shep.}
Shep: Precisely!
{He says, enthusiastic about the whole ordeal. He starts up the car, and starts driving. He reaches over, right hand fiddling with the radio dials, flicking through different channels, unable to decide.}
Blanche, you choose the music, sweetheart.
Blanche: Alright.
{She says lightly, reaching over to do the same as he did. She doesn’t have much interest in the music that should accompany their short ride to the drive in; other things occupy her mind. She lands on a shrill, German sounding song. She regards it with a small scrunch of her nose, and knitting of her eyebrows, but makes no effort to change it.}
She’s rather loud…. {She mumbles lightly}
Shep, what are they saying?
{She says, looking over to him as he drives, his eyes set on the road ahead.}
{Shep frowns a little, trying to pick up some words.}
Shep: Ahh, you know…Something about…Happiness, Fatherland…Being proud, and what not…
Ironic considering the direction that country’s going towards. {He says with a scoff.}
Blanche: What direction, Shep? {The way she asks this is almost comical. Her motives are clearly ulterior. It is rare to find Blanche without a book, or a newspaper in hand, therefore it’s impossible for her not to know what sort of direction it is in fact drifting towards. For being an English major, she is quite good at performing, in all senses of the word.}
Shep: {Still never looking away from the road.} Well, they’re talking of a war, Blanche. I wouldn’t be surprised if in the next couple of years, they start conscription…That Hitler, Heidler man, or whatever his name is, is nasty business. Especially after Germany’s losses in the Great War...{He takes a small pause} Who would've thought they’d be so quick to have their eyes on expanding their territory?
Blanche: Well, couldn’t someone just…stop him?
Shep: {He scoffs lightly, almost in disbelief at her audacity.} It’s not that simple, Blanche, surely you know that. You can’t just take down a–a-dictator!!
Blanche: {Putting her hands up in a “surrendering” gesture.} Well, I am sorry! I’m not exactly fond of the idea of you, or the whole male population of our United States going to war, and never coming back!
Shep: {He sighs, lightly irritated at her antics.} It’s not about what you’re fond of, Blanche. It’s for the greater good…For those poor people they’re locking away for-for writing those books and all that poetry you love reading so much!!
Blanche: Forgive me for expressing my distaste, then. {She says pointedly, and dryly, turning to look outside the window. Silence falls over the couple like a thick blanket, tense, and only penetrated by the continuance of the German song on the radio. Shep’s hand darts out to turn the dial, switching the channel to something else, some orchestral music, and returns to it’s place on the wheel.}
Shep: You just…need to be a lot more conscious, Blanche, sweetheart. I-I know it’s hard to accept, but it’ll be hard for everyone. I understand it’s hard, especially for someone like you, who’s so…wrapped up in…your own mind, you know? But we have to see the truth, Blanche, we can’t let them blind us to what is really happening…
{He says with a sigh, taking a brief glance at her, his expression a little worried.}
[There is a pause. A genuine, lightly unsettling silence. There is an unspoken need to break it.]
Blanche: You’re not…mad at me, are you, Shep? {She mumbles softly, words muffled a little by her hand, as she’s propped up her chin with the heel of her palm. She doesn’t turn to look at him. She is easily upset. Her mood may fluctuate very suddenly.}
Shep: Never, Blanche.
{They continue to drive. They don’t talk between there, and the entrance of the drive in. The silence doesn’t carry the same tense weight as it did a little before, now more comfortable, but still lightly tarnished by the remnants of the previous conversation in the air.}
[Shep’s car pulls up to the drive in. He rolls down his window, talking with the clerk at the ticket booth. He pulls out his wallet from his pocket, and buys two tickets.]
Shep: Blanche, would you like anything to eat or drink? {He asks, looking over at her twisted form. She turns to regard him. A distant look in her eyes, as if she’s been in critical thought about something that bothers her.}
Blanche: Whiskey…? {She asks, a lightly hopeful tone to her voice.}
Shep: {He laughs lightly.} A whiskey Coke for the lady, a regular coke for me and one large salted popcorn, please, sir.
{He pays, and takes the drinks, and popcorn from the clerk. Handing Blanche’s drink to her, and putting his in the drinks holder, resting the popcorn on the middle console. He drives into the parking lot, going around, trying to find a nice space to watch the movie. They land on a nice spot, about 4 rows away from the screen, right in the middle.}
Well, isn’t this nice!
Blanche: Mmm, I think I shall like it. {A light smile graces her face, an idea has struck her. She moves to lean over the middle console a little, moving the popcorn.}
You’re so far away, Shep.
[He gives her a look, raising an eyebrow, but complying and leaning in the tiniest bit closer to her. She shifts closer, one hand coming to wrap around his neck, resting at the bottom of it, fingers scratching through the hair at the nape of his neck. She starts to plant kisses to his jaw, slowly trailing down to his neck, before he starts shrugging her off.]
[He almost has to push her back into the seat to get her to stop. He has a look of irritation on his face, but also one of trying to understand her, and her motives for all her actions. Scrutinising.]
Shep: God, Blanche, none of that! How many times do I have to–
[She returns back to her seat, visibly deflating, curling back up into herself, looking down into her lap. She picks up her drink, taking many large sips through the straw, tapping her lightly bitten nails into the side of the cup.]
Blanche: I-I really can’t taste the whiskey in this, you know–
Shep: Blanche!!
Blanche: Oh, look, Shep, the picture’s about to start!! {She says, a faux bright tone to her voice, trying to divert the attention from her previous decision, pointing over to the large screen overly enthusiastic for something she wasn’t even keen on in the first place. It now displays a count down, going from 5, down to 0, and the film begins.}
[Bright flashes of light and colour illuminate the parking lot, and both of their faces. Blanche turns red, and then orange, and yellow. Shep turns purple, blue and then green. Colours fading into one another, like bleeding watercolours on the wrong kind of paper, seeping into one another and making a mess.]
Blanche: Oh, isn’t it beautiful, Shep? {She asks, enamoured by the colours and characters on screen.}
Shep: {Looking over to her, expression softening a little, watching how avidly she stares at the film in awe. He watches her with the same expression of wonder that she watches the film with} It sure is…
[He reaches over to the radio again, fiddling with the dials, in an attempt to turn the music off, now that the movie has begun. The dial gets jammed, stuck on one channel. The sound of Varsouviana polka fills the car. Blanche turns slowly towards Shep. A lost sort of look on her face,as if her mind has gone somewhere else, but her body is still present in the car.]
Shep: Awe, damn it…stupid–damn–car!! {He mutters irately under his breath, trying to get the dial to move.}
Blanche: Shep, I–
[Her focus shifts back onto a screen. One of the characters has drawn a gun, pointing it to the other, and shoots. The shot is heard loudly among the parking lot, sounding as if inside a large church. The sound echoing and rebounding off of the objects in the car.]
[Blanche lifts her hands to her ears, leaning forward. Her eyes, now half lidded and hazy, darting everywhere, refusing to land on one specific place. She rocks slowly back and forth. Fingers lacing into her tightly curled blonde locks, holding on like a vice.]
Blanche: I’m afraid I’m–going to be sick! {She says, barely coherent, as she lets her body weight pull her to lean back in her seat. Her hands drop loosely from her hair, now mussed up. Her head lolling back to rest on her shoulder as she stares blankly at the roof of the car. She looks similar to a painting, with the life sucked out of her. Tones and washes of whites, greys and pallid yellows paint her skin. Her eyes are glossed over, as those of a corpse.}
The End.