POLICE STATION/JAIL ROOM
(Come here first (they all say): it is the best theater.) Omar with the rumbly laugh, Omar who air-guitared the knife, waits at his desk. Cue the soldiers. The soldier approaches Omar: Sir, we want to set up a tip-line. The people will be our eyes. How dare you interrupt me says Omar. In the play you have to play hard to get. Ali, thin as a wasp, role-playing O.’s guard, has the gun raised, barrel to eye. Please lay it away, says the soldier. Who made you king? asks O. Clicks the room, disengages the lever. Cue the lights. The lights are the signal for Ralia, beautiful and peached-faced, the bored half- laughing R. in the prison, to crack a scream; inqaathni rescue me. The wasp makes the scream stop. The soldiers do not know what to do with the not- tamed air, the R- mute air. O. is playing hard to get. He says: It is normal. It is natural. You can beat her with me. A soldier shocks out of his chair, while we’re talking please can you not engage in physical activity Another soldier shocks up We want to see the person back there we want to see her condition O. turns up the juice you can’t let them in your pants No one made you king here the wasp clicks the room clicks send them through the door send them back in the door re- load. They smile at O. with bright cautious eyes It is sure hot today they say. Sure, it is hot says O. Its nothing like where we came from in Ohio.