April is 18 years old, of medium build with stringy brown hair that looks as uncared for as it actually is. She is listening to a walkman and headphones. She makes a big show of chewing and snapping her gum. Her father is a very large man in his late thirties, early forties, with a powerful build and large, meaty hands. He has the beginnings of a beer belly, something he has been working on too much. He concentrates on driving for a while, occasionally glances over at April, starts to say something, and then turns back to the road. April turns to look out the windshield, which faces her almost to the audience.
Narrator: I stared out the front windshield of our old beat up Chevy.
April: God I hate this car…
Narrator:…popped into my head. April turns slightly and we can see that she's trying to look at her father without him noticing. Her father is staring at her, trying to speak the words that are on his lips. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw my father looking over at me, his jaw flapping up and down, like one of those little dogs who nods if you tap their heads. April turns back to the window, after looking down at her walkman and fiddling with the buttons. April's father returns his eyes and focus to the road. I looked disinterestedly out my side window and turned up my headphones. I was in no mood to talk. April turns back, half facing her father. When I glanced back over at him, he had returned his pleading eyes back to the road. April places both her palms flat on either side of her hips and raises herself slightly off the car seat so that she may tuck her left leg underneath her. I looked at my toes, which poked out from under the folds of my tattered jeans. Dirt had caked itself onto my toes so deeply that the pattern of my skin was accentuated. April kicks her right leg up onto the dashboard. Leaning forward, she examines the foot and flicks off a piece of chipped red nail polish off her big toe. Her father, noticing what she's doing, yanks her headphones off, causing her to make a surprised noise. The headphones that were protecting me from the outside world were suddenly plucked off my head.
Father: commanding gruffly. Don't do that. Put your foot back down on the ground, where it belongs.
Narrator: I shot him a nasty glance before lowering my foot, semi-reluctantly.
April: He always has to have control of me.
Narrator: I thought bitterly.
April: No wonder Chelsea said he didn't want me going away. Then he won't have say over what I say and what I do. From offstage left soap bubbles start to float on stage, they float around the car, April's father doesn't notice, but April starts craning her neck, trying to look out her shut window, unsuccessfully.
Narrator: It was then that I noticed the bubbles. They were swirling around our car, enveloping it in their gasoline sheen. I craned my neck, trying to see where they came from. April rolls down her window and partially sticks her head out. What she observes is offstage. I rolled down my window and stuck my head out the window. My head was out long enough to see a little girl, about four years old, with golden curls and a giggle that could be used in any commercial, with her pudgy little limb outstretched from the window of mommy's expensive new SUV blowing bubbles with the force of the wind outside her window.
Father: angry, demanding. Get back in here! What are you trying to do? Get yourself killed?
April: still out the window. Yeah. I decided that I'd rather die than go off to Italy with my five best friends in the summer before the best year of my life. Sure.
Father: I don't have to let you go, you know. I could just stop and turn around and lock you in your room.
April: reentering the car and finally facing him. Fine. Do that. I'll sneak out, steal the car and take a later flight. You know you can't stop me and that's why you've been so damn pissed off ever since we left the house. Her father stares at her blankly for a moment before returning his eyes to the road.
Narrator: He had nothing to say to that. He turned back to the road and I could see that little vein that crossed his eyebrow pulsating. It only did that when he was truly pissed. Truly pissed or embarrassed.
April: musing to herself. So Chelsea was right after all…Whaddya know.
Narrator: I snorted to myself in half amusement and half bewilderment. April half snorts and half laughs. While the following is being said, the spotlight on April and her father is turned off, and the two of them move downstage left. Chelsea is my best friend. I've known her since I first started dating her brother, Derek. I was kinda forced into being her friend, since she would have to hang out with me while we cooked up elaborate schemes so that Derek and I could go out. I mean, I'm 18 years old, I think I'm more than capable of maintaining a relationship with a member of the opposite sex, while keeping up decent grades. But no, my father couldn't believe it. Spotlight goes up on April and her father in their new location.
Father: condescending. Boys will only mess up your studies and shift your focus. The last thing you need is to get knocked up when you're still in high school…
April: interrupting. …like mom? April's father hits her forcefully, knocking April to the floor. He bends down and pulls her up by her shirt collar, his fist cocked back, preparing for another swing.
Father: Never…ever…. The spotlight on them goes off.
Narrator: Instead of hitting me again he left the house with the sound of a slammed door and drove out of sight. He came back smelling like booze. He always did that so he could escape from his fears. I wondered if he was going to drink after he left me at the airport. April and her father move back to the car. My eye was swollen and a little black after that. I told Derek I had tripped in my room while I was sneaking in and hit my head on the corner of my bedpost. He believed it. I wished I could tell him, but I know that he would fly off the hook and try and hurt my dad. Shrugging. I know it really wasn't his fault. He was just angry and couldn't deal with me sometimes. The light comes up on the car.
Father: You have your passport and everything, right?
April: angrily, yet she yells at the windshield instead of looking at her father. I hate it when you desperately try to make conversation by asking me questions you already know the answers to. No, of course, I totally forgot my passport and all my money on my dresser at home. I left it there with my plane ticket 'cause I figure if I just tell them my name they'll trust me enough to let me on the plane. Pauses, waiting for the impact of her rant. She can tell her father is fuming, even though she hasn't glanced at him once.
Father: Through clenched teeth. I would be careful if I were you, young lady.
April: laughing, enjoying the provocation of her father. Thank god you're not! If you were me, I would lead a totally pathetic existence! At least now I have some life, something to look forward to: getting away from you and this stupid town and never looking back!
Father: visibly irritated. That does it! He screeches the car to a halt; April goes flying forward and almost hits her head on the dashboard. Her father removes his seat belt and exits the car. We hear cars honking in the background.
April: Have you lost your mind?!? You can't stop the car in the middle of the freakin' highway, dad! Get back in the car! Her father has moved around the front of the car and has opened April's door. He removes her seatbelt and picks her up out of the car. Hey!! Her father drags her by the arm and slaps her across the face.
Father: panting Have you learned your lesson??
April: head hanging in defeat Yes, sir. They get back into the car.
Narrator:After a moment or two of silence We rode a while in silence. My cheek stung like a bitch. I knew that I shouldn't have said what I said, I was just tempting him. Seeing how far I could push him. It was fun when I got away with it. Other times, like now, it just seemed stupid.
April: You know, in most states, when father's do that to their kids, the parents get locked up. I could get rid of you like that. Snaps fingers Then I could do what I want when I want. I could go find mom and live with her…
Father: interrupting Your mother is a good-for-nothing bitch and you know it. She was screwing your uncle behind my back and that's why she left us. Besides…she never really wanted a daughter anyways….
April: She didn't want a daughter or she didn't want to be married to you?
Father: Starting to fume Watch your mouth young lady!
Narrator: I knew that this was going to push him over the edge, but the signs off to my right were telling me that we were close to the airport. I knew he couldn't do too much more to me.
April: I'm 18, dad! I'm a legal adult! I can say or do whatever the hell I please because this wonderful country that we live in says that I have the right to! You can't control me anymore! You used to have a say over what I do, who I hung out with, where I went, but no more! It's OVER, dad! Your dictatorship over my life is over!
Father: Taking a deep, controlled breath, obviously trying to stop himself from flying off the hook. You're right. I'm sorry.
April: facing him out of disbelief. What?
Narrator: I couldn't have heard him correctly. There was no way he just apologized. He never apologized for anything. He never even showed emotion unless he was pissed off or really hammered. He didn't even cry when mom left.
Father: I said I'm sorry, OK? What more do you want from me? April stares at him with mouth agape, unable to form words.
Narrator: I had no other choice but to stare out the road. My father in all his life had never gone from being so pissed off to so understanding. I thought it was a trap. Maybe he was trying to get me to stay, not go to Italy…Maybe….
April's father stops driving and puts the car in park.
Father: Well, here we are…April gets out without shutting her door and removes two pieces of luggage from the trunk. She reaches into the seat where she sat and removes her backpack. She then slings it onto her shoulder and starts to slam the door shut. April!
April: Impatient, awaiting a lecture. What?
Father: Leaning over so that his right arm is on April's seat. I….I…l--
April: Leans into the car and kisses her father on the cheek. I know dad. I know. She closes the door and walks off stage left. Her father starts up the car as the lights fade.
Narrator: Sometimes you don't need to hear the words. Sometimes you can just feel it and you know.
