CAST – MARY and MARGIE. Two middle aged Irish women. MARY is a bit thinner than MARGIE, who is pleasantly plump.

As the lights come up MARY is standing on a ledge….ready to jump. Cries of "jump jump" are heard.

Mary: (screaming at the crowd below) Ah shut up ya pack of wolves…or I’ll go aiming for yer head!

(cries of "cmon lady…jump already"…and "shit or get off the damn pot")

Nice language on the lot of ya! Ya think it’s so easy…..get your idle non-depressed asses up here and see for yourself!

(to herself now)

There’s got to be an easier way. If I didn’t hear that story of the guy that tried to shoot himself and missed and ended up taking off half his face….I might’ve gone in that direction. How the hell do ya miss yer own head? I don’t think they’re even researching a pill to help the poor bastard so mixed up that he’ll try to shoot himself and miss and shoot off his face instead. 

(pause….looks down again)

They ought to invent one though. That’s the problem with the drug companies. Bastards. They’ll give grandpa a stiffy but some poor bugger is walking ‘round with half a head on account of a missing pill. The world’s lousy it is. Damn lousy. 

(cries of "jump jump" are heard again. she screams at them all)

You’re all lousy!

(to herself) The bastards want to see me go. Once they see me splatter down there they’ll all be heading to see my therapist.

(yells down to them)

You’ll all be scarred for life ya miserable creatures! Therapy don’t work either! I’m the damn poster girl for therapy! You like what you see?! You’ll be bankrupt and suicidal…..a wonderful combination!

(inches closer….peers over the edge…..almost….but not quite. she can’t seem to do it)

Ah Jesus. Don’t know what I expect to see down there. The damn view never changes. Looking is the worst thing it is. I come running down my steps at home and don’t look. It’s when you look before you leap that the royal screwings take place. ‘Cause there’s always some fool that rushes right in and clears the place out of the good stuff….leaving you standing on the damn ledge looking at a whole lot of nothing. The world’s lousy that way. Play by the rules…..you end up on the ledge with a pack of hungover wankers screaming up at ya to jump.

(cries of "jump jump" are heard again. she yells down at them)

Do you not have anywhere else to go? Do ya not have jobs? I’m busy up here. Piss off and leave me alone. Go make an honest dollar and hug your kids before you have to explain to ‘em why you have pieces of splattered brain all over your cheap suits!

(now to herself again….spoken as she edges close to the edge…..)

I heard that jumping from like….a plane or the empire state building…..I heard that you die before you hit the ground. That would be good to know before you stepped off. Useful information like. Problem is you can’t even stand up in an airplane without getting tackled by a stewardess thinking you’re a shoe bomber….so getting to a door for jumping purposes is impossible. And I ain’t going all the way to New York City to throw myself on the ground. It’s too damn crowded. This is as high as I can get ‘round here. Sucks being in a distressed city. Doesn’t it always come down to the dollars? The world’s lousy I tell ya…

(inches closer….peers over the edge….perhaps getting ready and then MARGIE walks onstage. She is carrying a bag.)

Margie: Howareya Mary?

Mary: (startled) Margie…..you scared me. Don’t be sneaking up on me like that.

Margie: Sorry.

Mary: I was just about ready.

Margie: My interruptin’ then?

Mary: Nah. Same old same old.

Margie: Done soon?

Mary: Planning on it.

Margie: (looking up) Nice day for it.

Mary: I guess.

Margie: Might as well go out on a nice day. Don’t much like the rain.

Mary: No rain today.

Margie: No…..nothing but the blue today.

Mary: Don’t much like the blue.

Margie: Do you not now?

Mary: No.

Margie: What…like the sky blue or dark blue like?

Mary: The sky blue. I don’t mind the dark blue. The sky blue is too much "look at me look at me"…ya know?

Margie: I do.

(pause……as Mary turns back to the ledge……then she turns back again to address her friend…as if she’s stalling)

Mary: So do you not like it either?

Margie: (getting settled in. perhaps sitting on the ground. maybe she has a blanket to lay out) What?

Mary: The sky blue?

Margie: I was only comparing it to the grey.

Mary: Oh…well anything is better than the grey.

Margie: Depressing it is.

Mary: What…the grey?

Margie: Yea.

Mary: It is that.

Margie: Surely killing yourself is bad enough without doing it under a depressing sky.

Mary: Well….no worry of that today.

Margie: No….nothing but the blue today.

Mary: I guess the blue is not so bad.

Margie: At least you can see the sun with the blue.

Mary: The grey blots it out doesn’t it?

Margie: It does.

Mary: The sun is kinda like a spotlight…no?

Margie: Well….I can still see you in the grey.

Mary: Yea…but you can still see the actors on a stage when the lights go down too.

Margie: Only not as good. 

Mary: Right….not as good. With the sun and the blue you can see things better. That’s what I mean.

(pause as they both ponder this)

Margie: I wonder who’s working it then?

Mary: What…the sun?

Margie: Yea…you know…..like a spotlight it is. You look up and it’s always shining on you when the sky is blue. 

Mary: So it’s like somebody is pointing it at you all the time?

Margie: Sure seems that way. Walk out of the spotlight on a stage….and you walk into the black.

Mary: Unless somebody is working the spotlight and follows you.

Margie: Exactly.

Mary: Not sure I like having a spotlight following me everywhere. Creepy it is.

Margie: Well you already said you don’t much like the sky blue so…

Mary: Yea…so I guess you take one with the other.

Margie: That’s how I took it.

Mary: Why don’t we come here at night then? When the lights are down?

Margie: Just doesn’t feel right I guess.

Mary: You ever try it?

Margie: We need the nights to talk us into coming here in the day.

Mary: Yea….I guess the nights is when you can do the most thinking.

Margie: When the morning comes I’ve done so much thinking that my head hurts.

Mary: The ledge is no place for thinking.

Margie: No….get your thinking out of the way first.

Mary: At night you mean.

Margie: Well…yea. That’s the best time for it. Hard to think in the day with all the idiots screaming at you all the time.

Mary: You ever get tired of all the thinking?

Margie: Oh heavens yes. I get tired of the thinking all the time.

Mary: Maybe when you get tired of the thinking is when you come here.

Margie: If we were really tired of the thinking we wouldn’t have to come back every morning.

Mary: So we’ve got more thinking to do you’re saying?

Margie: Well….were you doing some thinking before I came?

Mary: You mean today?

Margie: Yea.

Mary: I guess I was thinking some. I was yelling down at the yahoos too.

Margie: Oh they’re awful aren’t they?

Mary: They are awful. Landing on ‘em is too good for ‘em.

Margie: You still threaten to land on ‘em?

Mary: I do.

Margie: That part always cracks me up.

Mary: My luck one of ‘em would break my fall and I’d be saved.

Margie: Luck of the irish. And charged with murder yourself you’d be.

Mary: Wouldn’t that top all?

Margie: Others are always ruining stuff.

Mary: The world’s lousy with the others.

Margie: It is that.

(pause……bit of an uncomfortable silence…)

Mary: You bring your lunch today?

Margie: I did. (she starts to take it out of her bag) Not sure when you’d be done.

Mary: Sorry….I…

Margie: (cuts her off) No no….No rush. Take your time.

Mary: You think today?

Margie: Might as well be today for both of us.

Mary: We said that yesterday.

Margie: It was kinda grey yesterday. 

Mary: Was it?

Margie: It was.

Mary: Not grey today.

Margie: No…nothing but the blue today.

Mary: Better day for it.

Margie: Surely.

Mary: A bit early for lunch though.

Margie: Only 8….

Mary: Did you have your breakfast?

Margie: I did.

Mary: And still packed a lunch?

Margie: Just in case.

Mary: You think I take too long?

Margie: I’ll not rush anyone standing on a ledge.

Mary: But I might infer from your packing a lunch….

Margie: (apologetic) That was not my intention. I meant no disrespect. Surely we’ve both had enough of that already.

Mary: Or we wouldn’t be here.

Margie: My point.

Mary: Apologies then.

Margie: No need.

Mary: There’s no need for me to be inferring…

Margie: It’s a free country. Surely if you can toss yourself off a ledge you can do all the inferring you like.

Mary: But not if it hurts you.

Margie: It doesn’t. I’m a tough old bird Mary.

Mary: But not tough enough or you wouldn’t be standing in line for the ledge..no?

Margie: Well, there’s different kinds of tough Mary.

Mary: I suppose. I wish there was just one though.

Margie: One kind of tough you mean?

Mary: Yes.

Margie: Having to be tough in lots of ways is a royal pain in the arse.

Mary: There’s too much of everything. Too crowded the whole wretched landscape is.

Margie: You ever see the hard boys blubbering watching Brian’s Song?

Mary: Oh…they always be blubbering at Brian’s Song. The harder they are the more blubbering they do.

Margie: Then they’ll come out of the movie and bash you over the head for the purse.

Mary: This place’ll keep you guessing Margie.

Margie: And aren’t we tired of the guessing Mary?

Mary: I am tired Margie.

Margie: The guessing’ll wear you out.

(pause……they take a breath here)

Mary: What did you pack anyway?

Margie: What? For lunch?

Mary: Yes.

Margie: Ham and cheese.

Mary: Sandwiches?

Margie: Yes.

Mary: Plural?

Margie: Sorry?

Mary: You said "sandwiches" like there’s more than one.

Margie: It was you that said "sandwiches" plural.

Mary: Was it?

Margie: It was.

Mary: Sorry. Not much sleep last night. Up with the thinking.

Margie: No need. I hate to be up with the thinking as well. (pause here) Did you not have your breakfast then?

Mary: No, I came straight here after my think.

Margie: Not good to be jumping on an empty stomach.

Mary: Well…

Margie: Do you often miss breakfast then?

Mary: I guess I do. Rather sleep than eat I suppose.

Margie: But you were up with the thinking so you’ve done neither today.

Mary: Ah now that’s true.

Margie: Have a bite with me then would you?

Mary: So you’ve gone plural with the sandwiches then?

Margie: I have.

Mary: It’s a bit early for ham and cheese though.

Margie: Well….it is that.

Mary: Wasn’t planning on being here at lunchtime.

Margie: No…suppose not.

Mary: But just in case right?

Margie: Yes….just in case.

Mary: It’s nice you’re thinking of me that way.

Margie: Sure….aren’t we friends then?

Mary: Are we friends Margie?

Margie: I suppose we are….right?

Mary: We never really talked about it.

Margie: I guess friends don’t talk about being friends they’re just….you know…friends.

Mary: Friends can be a right pain in the ass though.

Margie: Aye….they can be that.

Mary: But strangers can be a pains in the arse too…worse even than friends.

Margie: Aren’t the strangers always a pain in the arse.

Mary: The ones who yell up at us like.

Margie: All strangers. A friend would never yell "jump".

Mary: I suppose not.

Margie: Not much of a friend anyway if they’re yelling "jump" up at ya.

Mary: No.

Margie: A true friend would be trying to talk you down…no?

Mary: Well, (motioning to the "crowd" below with her chin) they are trying to talk me down…

Margie: Rabid Christians….the lot of them.

Mary: Yes.

Margie: A true friend would want you to get off the ledge.

(pause as they consider the implications of this)

Mary: Yes….I suppose she would.

Margie: Why am I not trying to talk you down then?

Mary: Why would you….unless it’s because you’re mad about how long I’m taking I mean.

Margie: Well it’d be hard for me to talk you down since I’m waiting my own turn on the ledge.

Mary: You could try.

Margie: What?

Mary: To talk me down.

Margie: Sweet Jesus….what could I say?

Mary: You could give me reasons not to jump.

Margie: (thinks on this for a moment) Would they have to be real reasons or could I make ‘em up?

Mary: Well……we can practice with fake ones I guess….unless you can think of some real ones off the top of your head?

Margie: Well….it’d be right messy if you did jump. That’s true enough.

Mary: Yes….but what do I care about messes if I’m dead? I won’t have to clean my house anymore either.

Margie: Well…..I’ll not be dead yet and the mess could make me queasy some.

Mary: What….the mess in my house making you queasy?

Margie: No….I was speaking of the mess on the pavement below.

Mary: Oh that mess.

Margie: Two different kinds of messes….those.

Mary: You’ve never seen my house.

Margie: Well now that’s true enough. 

Mary: It’s got a bit of a splattering kind of messy quality to it.

Margie: But the splattering on the road mess could make me queasy is what I’m saying. The house mess too maybe but I’ve never seen that mess so I can’t speak to it. I don’t want to overstep my bounds.

Mary: Don’t you hate those that do the overstepping?

Margie: I do.

(pause here)

Mary: You shouldn’t have had breakfast then if you were worrying about the splattering.

Margie: I never really thought of the mess you’d make with the jumping really. I guess I assumed I’d get here before you.

Mary: You never get here before me.

Margie: Now that’s true enough.

Mary: If you didn’t worry about breakfast you might though.

Margie: Now that’s true enough too. I guess I’m always worrying about something.

Mary: Strange to be worrying about breakfast and packing a lunch the day you plan on killing yourself.

Margie: Well we’d have a hard time convincing anybody we’re normal Mary.

Mary: Now that’s true enough.

(they both laugh)

Margie: Is there room enough out there for me?

Mary: (very politely) I don’t know Margie. It’d be pretty tight.

Margie: If there was we could jump together I mean.

Mary: Yea…well, it’s pretty tight like I said.

Margie: Alright. I don’t want to crowd you any.

Mary: No no….You know…if we did jump together we’d hit the ground at exactly the same time. Twice the mess it would be.

Margie: Go away…..you’re as light as a feather and I’m a cow. I’d pass you like you was standing still.

Mary: No…physics and all. If I dropped a bowling ball and a marble….they’d both land at the same time. Weight doesn’t matter.

Margie: Does it not?

Mary: No.

Margie: Well that’s a first….eh? Everybody be obsessing about the weight…but when it comes to tossing yourself to the pavement women are finally equals eh?

Mary: I never tried it…but that’s what I heard.

Margie: We should try it then.

Mary: You mean us doing the jumping or the bowling ball and the marble?

Margie: Well I don’t want to crowd you on the ledge so maybe just the bowling ball and the marble we should try. Experiment like.

Mary: Well…..that’s part of the problem with life. When you need a bowling ball and a marble there’s never one around. The world’s lousy I tell ya.

Margie: Well…..we could try 2 different size rocks can’t we? Does it have to be a bowling ball and a marble?

Mary: I don’t know why it would have to be a bowling ball and a marble. I suppose we could try it with the rocks.

Margie: Are the jump whores still gathered down there?

Mary: (peers down to see….notices a few) A few of the quieter ones….most have gone along to work. We don’t work fast enough I guess.

Margie: We could aim the rocks at their heads I mean.

Mary: Is it legal to be pitching rocks off the ledge at people’s heads then?

Margie: I guess it’s no more illegal than pitching ourselves off the ledge and landing on their heads.

Mary: Can you find 2 good rocks then? There’s none out here.

Margie: (looks around….grabs 2 rocks off the ground. they look the same) How’s these?

Mary: This is more like 2 marbles. I need a marble and a bowling ball….remember?

Margie: Oh…right. (gets a better pair) How ‘bout these 2 then?

Mary: Some good rocks these.

Margie: You want to toss ‘em or should I?

Mary: Well…it’s my theory we’re testing so I guess I’ll toss ‘em.

Margie: Make sure you let go at the same time.

(she tosses the rocks over the side. they both watch them fall to the pavement below. It takes a long time before the land with a thud. Shouts of "hey…what the hell are you doing" come from the crowd)

Margie: Well?

Mary: Takes ‘em long enough to land.

Margie: Must be higher than we thought. They land at the same time?

Mary: They sure did.

Margie: Strange that.

Mary: Add it to the strange list.

("call us when you’re gonna jump you crazy bitches" is heard from below)

Margie: Our fans

Mary: They are devoted.

Margie: How long we been coming here?

Mary: Where?

Margie: Here…you know. This ledge.

Mary: Oh…..a while now.

Margie: And yet we never jump.

Mary: What’s the rush? If we thought it would matter to someone we might not be here in the first place.

Margie: You’re pretty smart for being suicidal.

Mary: You’re not so bad yourself.

Margie: Ya suppose we’re just a couple of loonies then? I mean….if the world’s so lousy how come everybody down there isn’t up here with us?

Mary: (turning up her nose) Have you taken a good look at ‘em down there? We’ve way more sense.

Margie: Now that’s true enough.

Mary: Don’t you think that’s why we’re here? ‘Cause we’ve way more sense than the wankers down there?

Margie: I do.

Mary: Too much sense if you ask me.

Margie: A curse to have too much sense it is.

Mary: Too much sense makes you scared it does.

Margie: And isn’t fear is why we’re here really? We climb up here to stop being scared all the time, and we end up being too scared to do anything about it.

Mary: Because we’ve too much sense.

Margie: Right.

Mary: It ain’t easy wanting to end it all Margie.

Margie: You said a mouthful there Mary. 

Mary: Well, today will be different.

Margie: You think so?

Mary: Nice day for it.

Margie: It is that. 

Mary: Aren’t you not sick of the sameness?

Margie: I am sick of the sameness.

Mary: Probably sick of me hogging the ledge all the time.

Margie: Actually…no. I look forward to our time together.

Mary: Why can’t we join the choir or something like normal women?

Margie: The choir would frown upon the suicide talk.

Mary: Choir’s are like that..

Margie: Because the world’s lousy….that’s why.

Mary: Yea….the world’s lousy.

Margie: You never asked me…..

Mary: You never asked me either.

Margie: Why do you not ask?

Mary: Why do you not ask?

Margie: I figured you’re sick of explaining yourself to everybody.

Mary: Well….

Margie: Are you?

Mary: Actually…...nobody ever really asks Margie.

Margie: Well tell me then…..whatever you want to come out….let it out. If you want to keep some inside, I’ll not pry. I’m no therapist. Just tell me why you want to fly?

Mary: Well…..I don’t want to die….that’s for sure. 

Margie: Oh good heavens none of us wants to die.

Mary: Dying is for the birds it is.

Margie: It is that.

Mary: I just…..what?

Margie: You just don’t want to live anymore.

Mary: Yea….not like this. You know what it’s like to be afraid everyday? I mean….to go to bed scared….and to wake up scared. To toss and turn scared….and to dream scared. Afraid for yourself….and afraid for and of others. You see people you care about, and you pull inside and do a Jimmy Stewart on yourself. You think…."they’d actually be doing better without me". And there’s no "Merry Christmas Bedford Falls" moment either running through the snow like some madman who finally figures out that the godawful town is gonna implode unless he comes back. There’s no Clarence the Angel constantly in your ear telling you what a selfish bastard you are. The only person in your ear is you. Angels my arse Margie. I ain’t got no guardian angel…..and if you blurt out that you’re the female Clarence I swear I’m gonna take you with me.

Margie: Now do I look like a Clarence to you?

Mary: You look like a Margie.

Margie: Which is all that I am.

Mary: And I ain’t no Jimmy Stewart.

Margie: You’re prettier than him.

Mary: Ah go’way

Margie: Do you not have anyone?

Mary: Like who?

Margie: A husband….or children?

Mary: No no…it was always kind of a "nothing for me today thanks" moment whenever that became even a distinct possibility.

Margie: At least you’ve got your health.

Mary: Which is a great comfort at a time like this.

Margie: Do you not like being alone then Mary?

Mary: I like it fine Margie.

Margie: It’s hard talking to the walls is what I’m saying.

Mary: It’s harder still to get them to answer.

Margie: They ought to invent the talking walls.

Mary: Or a pill that makes you think the wall is talking.

Margie: Ah they never invent the right pills.

Mary: If they did we wouldn’t be here maybe.

Margie: Ya think all it would take is a pill Mary?

Mary: Surely if they can make a pill to give grandpa a stiffy they can invent one to keep me off the ledges.

Margie: Maybe I can be your pill then Mary.

Mary: I’d never be able to swallow you Margie.

Margie: Do I not act like a pill then?

Mary: I never saw a pill act Margie.

Margie: Why are you not jumping Mary?

Mary: We’ve been too busy with the blabbing for me to concentrate on the jumping.

Margie: Can we not blab someplace else then?

Mary: What do you mean?

Margie: Does it have to be on the bloody ledge that we be blabbing is what I’m saying?

Mary: Well I can’t kill myself if we’re blabbing in the pub Margie.

Margie: We’ve been coming here all week and you’ve never jumped Mary.

Mary: Speak for yourself Margie.

Margie: The both of us….true enough.

Mary: The weather hasn’t been right.

Margie: That was yesterday. What about the day before?

Mary: I think it got too dark then.

Margie: And the day before that?

Mary: Ah Margie I’ve been preoccupied…I can’t remember that far back.

Margie: It’s always the blabbing that keeps you on the ledge Mary.

Mary: Maybe so. You are a talker Margie.

Margie: I don’t get the chance much.

Mary: What…for the talking?

Margie: Yea.

Mary: Why not?

Margie: I’m alone like you Mary.

Mary: Are you alone?

Margie: I am.

Mary: Is that why you’re planning on going off the ledge?

Margie: Well I’m not really planning on killing meself Margie.

Mary: Are you not?

Margie: No. Not anymore.

Mary: And why not? The world’s lousy it is. 

Margie: Yes….the world’s lousy.

Mary: So what’s to lose then? You ought to take the swan dive with me.

Margie: Well…..you’re not lousy Mary.

Mary: And what’s me against the rest of the world Margie?

Margie: Well….you’re my friend Mary. That’s who you are. And I think me being your friend is what’s keeping you from going off that ledge.

Mary: So it’s not the weather?

Margie: No….it’s not the weather. And really…who gives a shite if it’s pissing down rain when you off yourself anyway.

Mary: Do you not think it matters?

Margie: When you’re dead…..nothing matters Mary. 

Mary: Margie…..I was just thinking.

Margie: ‘Bout what.

Mary: Maybe it’s the questions that get us into the trouble.

Margie: The questions?

Mary: When something good happens….you know…..like a missing child being found unharmed…..or the reaching into the pants when doing the wash and finding the odd 20….when these things happen…..we never get down on our knees and say…"why God? Why did this wonderful thing happen? Why?" We never question these things. We just arrogantly assume that the world is tilted that way when it needs to be. But we never ask "why?" But when we’re alone with the walls….or when we watch the news and see what people can do to one another….all we can do is ask "why" over and over again.

Margie: Do you not want to know why the good things happen?

Mary: Maybe we just shouldn’t keep asking why the bad stuff does and get off our asses and do something about it.

Margie: Hard to do that if you’re still intent on the splattering.

(they stare at each other for a long moment)

Mary: (climbing off the ledge) Maybe we can come back tomorrow.

Margie: Mary…..I think there’s always gonna be just enough of the good stuff happening that’ll make us step back from the ledge. I mean look at the two of us. Our two hearts have nearly stopped beating. We’re ripe for the CPR right? Couple of eejits. And we drag our asses up this mountain like it’s Calvary…..and find what? Each other. Now I’ll tell you why nobody ever asks why. Because nobody knows. And I mean nobody.

Mary: You’re a queer one Margie.

Margie: Mary…..to be your friend…..it’s gonna take a queer one.

Mary: Where to now?

Margie: How ‘bout the pub?

Mary: With the sky this blue we’re gonna go sit in a dark pub?

Margie: I don’t much like the sky blue Mary.

Mary: Me neither Margie.

(they walk off)

End of Play