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Scene 6

It is evening. In the kitchen, Brusha arranges the writing and looks at the clock. He turns on the light and begins to wash his own dishes. Suddenly Vika appears.

Vika—What the hell are you doing here?
Brusha—Washing a cup.
Vika—What the hell for?
Brusha—You forgot your coat, I returned it.
Vika—What are talking about? My coat? You couldn’t have brought it to the Institute?
Brusha—You don’t go there anymore.
Vika—What’s it to you?
Brusha—Well, basically, I decided to bring it to you. It’s starting to get cold outside.
Vika—How thoughtful of you. What, did you pick the lock?
Brusha—Nura let me in.
Vika—And you what? You’re doing the housework now? Where’s Nura? In the room with an axe in her head while you’re out here doing the dishes and wiping off the table?
Brusha—Why are talking like that? She went to the store.
Vika—Nice! I come home and everything’s fucked up. 
Brusha—Don’t worry, I’m leaving right now.
Vika—I’m not worried, what’s to worry about, I’m just amazed.
Brusha—At what?
Vika—At what a little snake you are—what a filthy ass you are. Of course. you live in that shit hole dorm—in total filth—but to what extent, I couldn’t imagine.
Brusha—Listen, don’t blow a fuse, I told you I’m leaving—I didn’t steal anything.
Vika—And why should I believe you, Mr. Scarecrow face?
Brusha—What you wanna search me?
Vika—Did you paint those tears on your face so that Nura will feel sorry for you?
Brusha—Why are you doing this?
Vika—Oh? Did I hit the nail on the head?
Brusha—Nura was just telling me about…
Vika—Oh great, Nura was telling him a story. How wonderful! Why the hell are you kissing up to her?
Brusha—Just shut-up!
Vika—Excuse me?
Brusha—You don’t understand.
Vika—You’re the real fucking thing aren’t you? You found yourself a new fool, didn’t you? Listen, I understand everything. You know what I’m gonna tell her?
Vika—I don’t need to paint any tears on my face—and I don’t need to make anything up, either. I just need to tell her in a sad little wispy voice that you’re a dirty faggot—a bisexual and an addict. I just need to tell her that at my dad’s studio you guys got me so drunk I couldn’t see straight and passed out, then my dad screwed you, and then, at night, in your dorm you set up an orgy and fucked me like a goat—and then, I ran for my life and forgot my coat.
Brusha—Is that all?
Vika—Not yet. I’ll just start with that, and then, I’ll tell her that, like a stupid fool, I told you about how Luara’s started to make money and how she keeps it here at the house, and that you, a real crack-head, came here to rob them to get money for your drugs.

Nura appears.

Nura—Well they don’t have any there either. They have some small ones, but, they told me to go “Children’s World”. I’ll go tomorrow.
Vika—What are you talking about?
Nura—Hold on, sweetie, I’ll feed you now. Only go and get changed. There’s some soup and some stuffed peppers. (to Brusha) Listen, I was thinking, if it’s not too much trouble, maybe you could type out a little bit, just the beginning.
Brusha—Of course, I’ll bring it tomorrow.
Nura—Oh, there’s no need to rush. Do it when you can.
Brusha—What’s going on with you two?
Nura—I’m going, I’m going.

She goes out.
Brusha (takes a part of the manuscript) – Can you wait and do your little performance tomorrow?
Vika—What for? Why put off till tomorrow what you can do today?
Brusha—Exactly. Still, there is one thing.
Vika—What thing?
Brusha—Well, you’ll have more time to prepare and it will turn out a lot cooler if you wait. You see tomorrow I am definitely coming back, I’ll type this out for Nura, bring it to her, and then we can really get into it. What do you say to that?
Vika—Aren’t you a fucking genius?

Nura appears.

Nura—All right, I’ll feed you guys now. For Brusha we have...
Vika—Rotten pears.
Nura—Thanks Nura, but I’m going now. (he shows her the writing he has) I’ll bring it tomorrow.
Vika—God, how some people can spin it. Seriously. Simply Amazing.
Nura—Vika, honey.
Brusha—Thanks for everything. See you soon. (to Vika) No need to see me out, I’ll find my way. Just don’t start without me, eh? You’ll miss out. 
Nura—Should I wrap you up some cutlets?
Brusha—No, that’s all right.

He goes out. Vika takes an MP3 player out of her pocket and puts on the earphones. Nura opens the refrigerator and takes out the cutlets, put them in a bag and runs after Brusha.

In the hall.

Nura—Here take this—you can eat them later.
Brusha—Oh thanks, really its all right.
Nura—Take them, take them. Button up your coat. It’s windy out there. Don’t you have a hat?

The door closes and the phone rings.

Nura—Coming, coming. (She picks up the receiver) Yes. Yes. Yes. That’s not possible. What? Are you sure? Her friend just told me they were there together. That girl with dark hair, Brusha. Oh I don’t know her last name. She’s in the third year. What’s that? There’s something I don’t understand. No, Brusha. In the dark coat, she powders her face white and draws tears on her face—with pierced ears. Really? Is that so?

Nura comes into the kitchen upset,


Vika takes out one earphone.

Vika—Well, what?
Nura—They just called from the Institute. What? You’ve stopped going to school?
Nura—Hold on here.
Nura—What is this?
Vika—This is it.
Nura—Where have you been going?
Vika—Into the hills to gather berries!
Nura—What’s going on with him?
Vika—With who?
Nura—With your Brusha.
Vika—Oh, he’s not mine. He’s yours. You’re the one looking after him. Oh and by the way, he’s a drug addict. Constantly sitting there with a needle and trying to get me to shoot up with him.
Nura—Where do you get the money for that?
Vika—We steal it.
Nura—Are you joking?
Vika—Do you even live in this world?
Nura—Then I need to take you to the doctor immediately.
Vika—What for? Are you gonna try and cure me or something?
Nura—I don’t believe it.
Vika—But you believed that idiot—even shoved cutlets in his pocket.
Nura—This just doesn’t make any sense.
Vika—It doesn’t fit into your pretty little theory? What are you getting all worked up for? Your Tolstoy didn’t get worked up, he shit on everything and admonished us to do the same. You try to act so pure, so innocent, like some little puppy. The truth is you’re a self-righteous hypocrite. You raised my father—he sure turned out, didn’t he? A real slob of a human being. What could you even write—a guidebook on how to raise assholes? (she takes the writing, reads and snorts a laugh) “The struggle with evil must never be undertaken by violent means, for all people define evil differently”. Tell me something, when my mom abandoned me, how did you define that? Was that good or evil? All these years, not even a birthday card, she probably doesn’t even remember by birthday…and my Dad, my dad completely ignores me—so what’s that? Good or Evil? Or maybe you think that somehow that can’t be defined? Let’s see—I’d like to see how you would define evil if someone did something to you. (She tears a page in half and looks at Nura)
Nura—What’s happened to you, Sweetie?
Vika—What? Is that too little? More? (she rips a whole stack of papers and tosses them on the floor)

Luara appears in the kitchen doorway.

Luara—Generally, it’s desirable to lock the apartment door! (to Nura) I was sitting there with Valery in the Cafe, and all of the sudden, he started whining to me about his wife. And all this time I thought he was single. (To Vika) Did you buy a coat?

Vika and Nura are silent.

Luara—What’s going on with you two?
Vika—Just...lay off, all of you! (She runs out, slamming the kitchen door)
Luara—She’s stopped going to the Institute.
Luara—Wonderful. She’s her own master now. What? Did you decide to tear up all your writing in a show of solidarity? (She looks at the torn pages)

Nura gathers up the writing and puts them in the garbage can.

Luara—If she doesn’t want to study, then she go find a job. No need to force her, I don’t think I need to explain that to you. Did she buy a coat?
Nura—No she found the old one.
Luara—Well, where was it?
Nura—Did you know that Brusha was a boy?
Luara—What boy? More like some kind of indiscernible scarecrow—only you could take it on yourself to look after garbage like that.
Nura—I don’t see it like that.
Luara—Well of course, you’re our resident psychologist—our expert in the human soul. I don’t understand how you can live like that—its as if you’re illiterate—you live in some kind of illusion. You see this, but you don’t see that! You’re whole life you’ve read these great books, but you haven’t understood anything.
Nura—I’m worried about Vika.
Luara—This is absolute self-torture. Dumb as a post, you are!
Luara—Stop clucking around like a hen, and think with your head for a change.
Luara—What are you, a child Nura?
Nura—Forgive me, once again, I don’t understand something.
Luara—It’s time we "excommunicated" her. Like your Tolstoy. Let her life her own life. We won’t give her money—let her fumble around awhile, and then, she’ll come crawling back like your Tolstoy—let’s me enter the Monastery—but it’ll be too late. The train’s left.
Nura—You’re right there. "The train’s left, leaving a black trail, there where I stumble through the night. And though I search the whole day through, I cannot find the path".
Luara—How about we do it without all of your pretensions stumbling around there in the night, eh? You’re tired, go lie down and I’ll sit here and check my limited liability stock options.