SPILLED MILK

By Kellie Powell
 SPILLED MILK
Copyright © 2007 by Kellie Powell

Rights Reserved

Amateurs and professionals are hereby cautioned that Spilled Milk is the
intellectual property of the playwright, Kellie Powell. This play is fully protected
under copyright laws.

All rights, including professional and amateur stage performance, motion picture,
recitation, lecturing, public reading, radio broadcasting, television, video or sound
taping, photocopying, all forms of electronic or mechanical reproduction, and the
rights of translation into foreign languages, are reserved.

Any person or organization who performs, produces, or uses any part of this play
for any purpose – commercial or non-commercial – is required to give credit to the
playwright as sole and exclusive author of this work.

All inquiries, and requests for performing or other rights should be directed to:

These Aren’t My Shoes Productions

www.notmyshoes.net
Characters

HELEN
Early 20s, very attractive.

JOAN
Early 20s, plain-looking.

Setting
A nondescript attic. There does not need to be any furniture. There could be boxes,
trunks, or other set decoration, but minimalism is strongly encouraged.

Notes
Cigarette smoking is suggested, but by no means required. The party downstairs
could be suggested by sound effects, but this is also not required.
(An attic. Joan enters, cautiously. She is taking a break from a party downstairs.
She is twenty, plain, and somewhat timid, although she can be very witty. She’s
sensitive, but would never describe herself that way. This is her attic, but she has not
been here in a few months. She is tense. Then, Helen is heard from off-stage. Helen is
attractive, cheerful, and oblivious.)

HELEN
(Off-stage.) Joan?

JOAN
Helen? Hey.

HELEN
(Entering.) What’s wrong?

JOAN
Nothing, I’m fine. I just… I don’t know. I guess I just needed… some air.

HELEN
Do you want a cigarette?

JOAN
Um, no thanks. But I don’t mind if you have one.

HELEN
That’s okay, I don’t want your mom to get mad.

JOAN
I really don’t think she would care. I know she smokes up here, sometimes.

HELEN
You have the coolest mom.

JOAN
Yeah, I do. How’s your mom?

HELEN
Annoying as always.

JOAN
Why don’t you move out?

HELEN
I can’t afford to.

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 JOAN
What about when you change schools?

HELEN
Maybe. If I can get into Western… you know.

JOAN
Right.

(A small awkward pause.)

HELEN
What about you? You like your school?

JOAN
Oh, definitely. It’s great.

HELEN
Everyone expects you to be famous, you know.

JOAN
There really aren’t any famous cartographers.

HELEN
What about… what’s-his-face, you know?

JOAN
Exactly.

HELEN
Well, you should try to name an island after me.

JOAN
You’ve already got a volcano.

HELEN
What?

JOAN
Mount St. Helen’s. In Washington?

HELEN
Washington, D.C.?

2
 JOAN
No, Washington, the state. It erupted in 1980…?

HELEN
Was it named after a girl named Helen?

JOAN
No, the explorer, George Vancouver, named it after the British diplomat Lord St.
Helens.

HELEN
Oh.

JOAN
St. Helens is a town in England, too.

HELEN
Oh, yeah? (Pause.) Well, you don’t have to name the first island you discover after
me. You can name the first one after yourself, or your mom, or your boyfriend or
something. But it would be cool to point to a map, and be, like, “My friend Joan
named this island after me.” (Pause, waits for Joan to speak. She doesn’t.) Or it
could be a lake…

JOAN
There’s not really much left in the world to discover anymore. Pretty much
everything has already been… found. And named.

(Another awkward pause.)

HELEN
Ready to go back downstairs?

JOAN
We used to be best friends.

HELEN
What?

JOAN
We can barely have a conversation. We can barely talk to each other.

HELEN
We just haven’t talked to each other in a while.

3
 JOAN
Yeah. You’re right.

HELEN
Let’s go downstairs, come on.

JOAN
I don’t think that’s it. I mean, if you think about it… You and I… never really had
much in common.

HELEN
Come on, we’ve known each other forever.

JOAN
Since the fifth grade.

HELEN
I’m sorry that I didn’t call more, I was just busy with school and work and stuff.

JOAN
It’s not your fault, I didn’t call either.

HELEN
That’s okay, you had stuff to do.

JOAN
It’s not that I don’t… miss you. I do.

HELEN
I miss you, too. You know? But, it’s okay. You live somewhere else now, you made
new friends. That’s a good thing. I know you’re busy.

JOAN
I’m not that busy. I am busy, I guess. But that’s not why I haven’t called.

HELEN
Joan… what’s the matter? Did I do something wrong?

JOAN
(Staring, incredulous.) God… Look at you. It would be so… easy… to say, “No.” It
would be so easy to never have this conversation. To never acknowledge... what
happened. We could just keep doing this, like, awkward… dance. It didn’t even
occur to you… You are so… oblivious. How do you do that?

4
 HELEN
Do what?

JOAN
I’ve known you for a very long time, and I’ve always wondered…

HELEN
…What?

JOAN
Is ignorance really bliss?

HELEN
What’s that supposed to mean? Are you calling me stupid?

JOAN
No. Not that it would really matter if you were.

HELEN
I’m going to go downstairs, okay?

JOAN
In a minute. It happened right here, you know.

HELEN
What did?

JOAN
You aren’t stupid. Stop acting like you are. Almost a year ago. Right before I left.

HELEN
The party?

JOAN
The party… He came here with Kevin and his friends. And he liked you right away.
Like they always do.

HELEN
You mean… This is about…

JOAN
Yes.

5
 HELEN
I wasn’t trying… to steal him from you, you know. I didn’t…

JOAN
No, no… I got used to being… invisible, whenever you were around a long time ago.
I mean, just look at you. And look at me. If I were a guy, I wouldn’t look twice at me,
either.

HELEN
You’re really pretty.

JOAN
Don’t. That’s so… not the point.

HELEN
…Okay.

JOAN
The point is, he wanted you. No surprise. He saw you, he wanted you. And… you
definitely didn’t want him. And he could tell. And that was when I moved in for the
kill. Remember?

HELEN
Not really. There was a lot going on. And I was drinking.

JOAN
I was, too. So was he. Everyone was. People started to leave. We were sitting on the
floor in the living room, and I kissed him. You saw us, and you watched me bring
him up here. And then you went to sleep on the couch. Like you had a dozen other
nights, after a dozen other parties. And then… everyone else left?

HELEN
Yeah.

JOAN
I brought him here. We were kissing… and he was a good kisser. And he… he
started… and I didn’t stop him. And then, he went downstairs, to the bathroom.
And when he came back, he brought a condom.

HELEN
You told me this, the morning after.

JOAN
Yeah. And remember what you told me?

6
 HELEN
Not really.

JOAN
Don’t make me say it. I don’t want to have to say it.

HELEN
So don’t. It’s in the past, and we don’t have to talk about it.

JOAN
I woke up the next morning, and he was gone. And I put on my clothes, and I came
downstairs, and you were there, sleeping. And I woke you up, and I told you what
had happened. I told you that I had slept with him. And you know what you told
me?

HELEN
I woke up, in the middle of the night, because he was on top of me.

JOAN
He was feeling you up, in your sleep. He was groping you, basically molesting you…
while you were passed out on the couch. You woke up, and his hand was in your
crotch. I mean, that’s what you said, right?

HELEN
…Yeah.

JOAN
It was… strange, how it didn’t really seem to bother you. But I guess you’ve had
guys do worse.

HELEN
Yeah.

JOAN
You told me all this… so calmly. Like, it meant so little…

HELEN
Well, it didn’t really mean anything. He was drunk, and did a stupid thing. I woke
up, and I made him stop, and I kept telling him, “Go back to Joan. Go back upstairs
with Joan.” And I gave him a condom from my purse.

JOAN
A guy tries to assault you while you’re passed out, and you think, “I know. I’ll send
him upstairs to my best friend.” I mean, what the hell is wrong with you?

7
 HELEN
You wanted him. I sent him back to you. What was I supposed to do?

JOAN
You were supposed to kick him out of my goddamned house! You could have
screamed bloody murder and woken up my parents. You could have threatened to
press charges. What he did was assault. What do you think would have happened if
you hadn’t woken up? He could have raped you.

HELEN
He didn’t.

JOAN
He could have. And you… you sent him back to me. How generous. How benevolent.
Why didn’t you warn me?

HELEN
What do you mean?

JOAN
Why did you wait until the next morning to tell me what he did? Why didn’t you tell
me right then?

HELEN
Why?

JOAN
God, Helen. I mean, think about it. You send this guy, this guy… who has just
violated you… up to my attic. What do you think would have happened if I had said
no?

HELEN
I didn’t think about it.

JOAN
You didn’t think about it?

HELEN
No.

JOAN
Why not?

8
 HELEN
I don’t know.

JOAN
It never occurred to you… that I might say no? Well, sure. That makes sense. I
mean, I had certainly brought enough guys up to the attic that summer, hadn’t I?
Yeah. I mean, I kissed this guy… this guy I barely knew. So, I guess I deserved
whatever I got.

HELEN
Well, you didn’t say no, did you?

JOAN
No, I didn’t.

HELEN
There you go.

JOAN
I would have. If I had known what he had done to you, I would have.

HELEN
I didn’t realize.

JOAN
Right. Right. Because I’m such a slut, I’ll nail anyone.

HELEN
I didn’t say that.

JOAN
It’s what you were thinking, though. It had to be. It’s the only explanation.

HELEN
Look, if I had thought you would get so bent out of shape about this, I never would
have told you.

JOAN
Why did you tell me? Why? I mean, it was too late, I had already slept with him.
Why tell me? The only thing I can think is… you wanted me to feel bad about it.

HELEN
I didn’t want you to call him, or whatever, and get hurt, when you realized that he
was just… well, using you.

9
 JOAN
So you hurt me, before he could, is that it?

HELEN
I guess.

JOAN
You’re wrong, you know? He wasn’t using me. You can’t use someone who’s using
you back. They didn’t use me. I used them. He was no exception.

HELEN
If you didn’t like him, then why are you so upset?

JOAN
This isn’t about him, not really. It’s about you and me.

HELEN
I was trying to do the right thing.

JOAN
The right thing? You had the chance to protect me, and you didn’t. Because you
never thought, not even for a second, that I would say no.

HELEN
Well, what do you want me to say? You were desperate!

JOAN
I was drowning! …And you couldn’t see it. You were my best friend. And you
couldn’t see it. All I wanted was for someone… to look at me the way they all looked
at you. I just wanted someone… to want me. Anyone. I brought those guys up here
because I needed to prove I existed. That I wasn’t invisible. And you… you were
oblivious.

HELEN
I’m sorry.

JOAN
For what?

HELEN
(Pause.) I don’t know. (Pause.) But I’m still sorry.

JOAN
(Stares.) I would have done anything to protect you. I would have done anything.

10
 HELEN
(Pause.) Yeah, well, you’re a really good friend.

JOAN
We really never had anything in common. (Pause.) I think I would like a cigarette
after all.

(Blackout. The End.)

11
 About the Playwright

Kellie Powell’s plays have been produced by Love Creek Productions, Art
International Radio, KNOW Theatre, Hinman Production Company, the Illinois
State University Free Stage Festival, the Penny Dreadful Players, and Studio Z.
Her plays have been published by These Aren’t My Shoes Productions and JAC
Publishing & Promotions. She has also published poetry and non-fiction. Powell was
born and raised in Central Illinois. She wrote her first extant play in high school,
and became involved in the founding of the independent theatre group Stick & Co.
Productions. She attended Illinois State University, where she earned her Bachelor
of Arts degree in Theatre. She has also studied at Binghamton University in
Binghamton, New York. For more information, visit: http://www.notmyshoes.net

Playwright’s Comments

Joan feels betrayed because Helen sent a dangerous person to Joan’s attack and
didn’t warn her. She is angry because of Helen’s assumption that Joan would
consent to sex, and therefore was not in danger. There is an idea in our culture, less
prominent than it once was, but still present, that a woman who is “easy” or who
“sleeps around” will always consent to sex, and therefore cannot be a victim of rape.
Helen judges Joan to be easy, and assumes that Joan will have sex with the man in
question, therefore, she doesn’t worry about Joan being assaulted – even though the
man has no qualms about non-consensual sexual contact. This “you can’t rape a
slut” mentality is something I have always found disgusting, and hopefully this play
will make people think about how wrong that assumption is.

Even though Joan does consent to sex, she will go through the rest of her life
wondering if she slept with a potential rapist. She will be disgusted with herself,
because even though she did not know at the time, she slept with someone who
assaulted her best friend. She will hate him, of course – but she will also feel hurt
by her friend – who had an opportunity to protect her, and didn’t. Joan feels terrible
about what that man did to Helen – maybe even worse than Helen feels about it, or
allows herself to feel about it. This confuses Joan. She doesn’t understand how
Helen can react so casually to being assaulted. She cannot understand how Helen
can expect so little from men, or tolerate such an unacceptable action. She can only
speculate. Has Helen been sexually abused so often in her lifetime that she
considers sexual harassment and even violence – to be normal behavior? Does she
avoid her emotions because they would be too painful to deal with, or is she really
indifferent to what happened to her? As with so many questions like these – there is
no way to know.
 Other Plays By Kellie Powell

Confrontation over creative property erupts between two

friends with a long and complicated history, when Shane
rewrites Kim’s play, and she refuses to allow the new version
to be produced. Finally, Kim reveals that Shane was the
inspiration for the uneven love story he has destroyed, and
that their relationship has been more significant to her than
he ever suspected.

“You’re right. You promised nothing. But I knew I wanted those moments – few and far
between as they were… I wanted whatever time and affection you could give me. No matter
what it cost me. It was enough for me, somehow. I felt like you found comfort in me. And
maybe I wasn’t your first choice, you know? But I was glad that I was somewhere on the list.
I let it happen again and again, more times than I can even count…
I knew… you’d never strive for me. You’d never have to. When it comes to you, I can’t
afford to play hard-to-get. You’ll never have to chase me, because I’ll always be within reach.
I’ve seen the best and the worst of you… and I love you. I love the way you can tell me
what I’m thinking. I love the way you tell a story, drawing me in. I love you for all the times
you convinced me, with a stupid joke, or even just a look… to stop taking myself so seriously
and just enjoy my life. Nothing could ever make me regret the way I feel about you.”

A seven-year-old girl is traumatized and scarred after being attacked

by a dog. Her classmates ostracize her and give her the name
“Dogface”, which continues to haunt her long after grade school. The
alienation and rejection initiate a lifelong struggle with feelings of
inferiority, and a desire to challenge America’s obsession with beauty.
Ultimately, Dogface must find a way to reclaim her self-worth,
despite her alleged ugliness.

“Nurses were coming in, mopping up blood and asking questions and trying to establish
how much of my face was still there, whether the nerve endings were alive. My face felt puffy,
and I was light-headed…
And then, I was lying on a table, squinting into a bright light above me… I can’t feel it.
If I look out of the corner of my right eye, I can see it, the silver needle, moving up and down.
So I don’t look. You’re not allowed to cry or they might mess up your stitches. You can’t move
at all. They keep saying, “It will all be over soon.”
They lied. I was conscious the entire time. I was awake while they sewed my face back
together. What I remember most is the bright light, and the strangely disembodied voices of
my parents and the doctors, trying to keep the patient calm…”

Available from These Aren’t My Shoes Productions

www.notmyshoes.net