Four Weeks, Five People

* * *

Here is the rising action:

I’ve barely had a moment to look around the circle at the other campers before one of the counselors steps forward, a shit-eating grin splitting his face. JOSH (fifties), as his nametag reads, looks like what would happen if Zach Galifianakis and Seth Rogen had a love child, and then that love child was raised in an Amish family that didn’t believe in things like haircuts, and hygiene, and shaving. Bearded, potbellied, decked out in a T-shirt and sunglasses too small for his face, Josh’s presence is enough to halt the panic threatening to suffocate me—if only because it’s been replaced by a wave of disbelief.

JOSH

(booming, still grinning)

So, there’s this blind man, right? And he walks into a bar. And then a table. And then a chair.

* * *

Josh beams at us like he’s just told the funniest joke in the world. No one laughs. Not even JESSIE (forties), the other counselor holding our group’s sign, cracks a smile.

JOSH

Okay okay okay okay. Let me try another one. My friend Sal once told me that time flies like an arrow. I told him, I don’t know about that, Sal, but I do know that fruit flies like a banana.

* * *

The ASIAN GIRL standing next to me shifts uncomfortably. She’s pretty but looks TERRIFIED to be here. Entire body tensed. Fists clenched. Eyes squeezed shut.

BEN (V.O.)

Let’s just say that I can relate.

* * *

A DARK-HAIRED BOY standing directly across the circle from me blows his bangs out of his eyes and squints at Josh like he’s an apparition. He’s unhealthily thin—gaunt, in fact—but the long hair, bad posture, and black clothes combine to give off an aura of DISAFFECTED COOLNESS.

BEN (V.O.)

Let’s just say that I cannot relate.

* * *

Josh, who apparently has materialized straight out of a Coen Brothers film, continues to grin encouragingly at us.

BEN (V.O.)

The thing is, there are days when I would think that every single stupid joke that Josh is making right now is absolutely hilarious. Days when I’m the kind of person who thinks that every single thing period is hilarious. And I wish that today could be one of those days, if only to make this situation a little less unbearably awkward. But it’s not one of those days, and I’m not that kind of guy right now, so I guess all I have to be thankful for in this moment is that it’s not one of those other days—when it feels like the world is collapsing in on my chest no matter what I do or where I go, when no joke would get me to laugh no matter how funny it was.

JOSH

No? No? All right, I got one more for you guys. This one’s about pizza. Everyone loves pizza! But maybe I shouldn’t tell it. It’s pretty chees—

CAMPER

(over)

For Christ’s sake, Josh. Does that shit ever work?

* * *

Everyone turns around to look at the ANGRY GIRL who’s just interrupted—including the two counselors.

JESSIE

Watch your language, Stella.

STELLA

Ugh, are you serious? What are we, in kindergarten?

JESSIE

No foul language. Camp rule #4. You should know that, Stella, we’ve been over this.

* * *

Stella looks like she wants to argue, but—

STELLA

All right, fine.

* * *

She turns back to Josh.

STELLA

Does that stuff ever work, Josh? Seriously, those jokes haven’t gotten funnier since you used the exact same ones last year.

JOSH

Ah, Stella. If only I could have your wit.

STELLA

Yeah? I’ll trade you for emotional health.

* * *

Josh seems legitimately unfazed. If anything, he looks thrilled that someone’s actually talking to him. Stella stares back evenly, clearly unimpressed by the compliment.

BEN (V.O.)