Untitled (as of yet) BY: Jessica Austin
Joe walks a little ways on a street (seen by the street sign behind her). Thumps backpack on ground and looks around, cocking her head as if listening for something. She looks dejected, hanging her head low. Then she fills up her lungs and yells
Joe: God! (cocks head, listening) I’m just going to assume that you’re listening if it’s all right with you. (pause) I’m Joe. And I’m a female, if you couldn’t already tell (looks down her own shirt and shrugs the material up a bit). I don’t know how most people pray, but . . . I guess that’s what I’m trying to do. Really, God, my life is screwed up. The word I would use is FAILURE. That’s what I am. And it isn’t a new theme for my pathetically-drama-driven life. Ever since I denounced Barbie's as a child . . . but that’s not the point. (deep breath) The point is that I need your help in a very small detail. I need to be dead. I’m not really suicidal or anything, I just feel like I’m taking up space. In fact, (looks around) I’m sure you agree. That’s why you are going to let me get hit by a bus, or a truck, or a car. Hell, I’ll settle for a golf-cart if it’s fatal. Just send something, because this particular life isn’t working out. And as long as I’m not reincarnated as a spoon or a fork, I’ll be fine. It’s just that whole business of being perpetually eaten by someone that freaks me out. Of course, I’m not sure if inanimate objects count as reincarnations, so . . . hold on. Back to business. I’ll be perfectly happy. I can be a chipmunk, moose, tree, or maybe even the next Buddha? (hopeful look, then shakes head) I don’t mind coming back as a guy, although it would be mighty uncomfortable and I might end up gay. Other than that . . . all options are open. (walks into the middle of the street) Go ahead God! Have a free-for-all. (nothing happens) Okay, (closing eyes hopefully) I’m hearing a bus? (opens eyes) No bus? (sigh) You need more, God?! More reasons why I should be hearing a deadly automobile racing towards me?! My mother is a religious fanatic and I barely believe in you! My sisters are well-accomplished-all-star-athletes with 4.0’s! I can’t even run a mile, and I barely manage a B+ average. The only thing I’ve got is mediocre poetry and a caustic attitude. For the sake of everyone around me, God, just . . . (looking to right where hears something) Oh My . . . .
Very loud noise of screeching, crashing, banging, ect. And En - Blackout - Whatever
Joe is lying in a bed in a hospital room. Her roommate is an old man. She has bandages on her head and some kind of robe thing on.
Joe: light . . . so bright . . .. I must be in Heav-
Oldman: (sitting up in his bed) I see your awake there little missy.
Joe: (startled) Woah! What kind of place is this?
Oldman: (laughing) And boy, ain’t your mama and sisters glad of it.
Joe: (totally ignoring Oldman) Why do I not seem to be dead? (looks up towards ceiling) Hello? I was sort of going for the whole “not alive” theme, God. And if I am . . . I don’t want to think about it. (hears “Don’t Worry Be Happy” somewhere, after a few seconds she plays imaginary bongos and sings) Don’t worry, be happy. Don’t worry, be happy now. Because God will only let you get hit by the bus and not die . . . doo doo doo dah. (looks up at ceiling)And that was for you. (points up accusingly) I hope you enjoyed it.
Doctor has entered from her other side while she was singing
Doc: Actually it was just a little Aspire (little car)
Joe: (screams) Uh . . . (affected by “good looks” of Doctor) I was . . . uh, talking to . . . myself. Yeah. (laughs embarrassment) Hi.
Doc: Hello, it’s Josephine, right?
Joe: No, actually, it’s Joe.
Doc: Isn’t that a rather many name.
Joe leers
Doc: No, never mind. It works.
Joe leers some more
Doc: Right then . . . uh (now he is affected by her “good looks”) You were hit by a car. The driver said you were standing in the middle of the road or something, like you were trying to die, but your family said that you weren’t like that and so you almost did die but we were able to save you from imminent death and now I need . . . what? (looks at Joe who is staring blankly ahead) WHAT?!
Joe: Huh? Oh . . . I was just spacing out. You know (puts her hands in front of her face to simulate “space out” affect) Spaaaaaaacccceeee Ouuuuttttt. Like that.
Doc: So this briefing on your health bores you?
Joe: to tears, yes, you can assume that.
Doc: (stops paying attention and checks her head in an angry manner)
Joe: I really did want to die. In fact, I was propositioning God about it. I was ready to sacrifice myself so another bunny could come into the world, but . . . something went wrong. Terribly wrong. I do believe this is He-
Doc: You look fine. The vehicle was only traveling fifteen miles an hour or else it could have been worse.
Joe: So you don’t care that I’m apparently suicidal?
Doc: No, you can assume that I don’t.
Joe: (leering again) Are you sure that it wasn’t a bus, sure felt like it was a bus. (rubbing head)
Doc: I’m positive. (begins to walk out, but turns back) If you were “suicidal” wouldn’t you have just found a gun, or taken some pills? (smirks) I guess not. (exit)
Joe: (Glaring mercilessly as he walks out) Right, because everyone blows their brains out. I was taking a short cut! Or maybe a round-a-bout! But I’m still suici-
Oldman: Don’t worry . . .. be happy.
Joe: Do you know where that music was coming from?
Oldman points to ceiling
Joe: Right, the floor above us.
Oldman: Don’t worry, be happy now, because God will only let you get hit by the bus and not die . . . hmmmmm. I like that. Catchy.
Joe: Thanks
SILENCE - AWKWARD
Oldman: You’re not very talkative, now are you?
Joe: I sort of just escaped death, although that wasn’t my intention. And I’ve never been known as Jolly Joe.
Oldman: There was something about you. (waggles finger at her)
Joe: (raising eyebrows) The fact that I’m not on as many painkillers as you?
Oldman: (laughing uproariously then stops suddenly) No. You didn’t want to die.
Joe: I think it’s none of your business.
Oldman: Business is as bees do, Deary.
Joe: (looking skeptical) And somehow I’m rendered speechless.
Oldman: Just like the time when I killed the little ant and he squirmed and squirmed till I crushed his little skull. Yep.
Joe: (totally grossed out) I think I should switch rooms.
Oldman: And just like that time I set fire to the Lady’s hair, on accident, and she started explaining the universe to me. Every ant is important and every ant is worthless. Every hair on the Lady’s head flew away and she didn’t even care.
Joe: Hoooollllyyy Weirdness! What drugs did you take in the 70’s?!
Oldman: You take things for granted.
Joe: Right, everybody does.
Oldman: You don’t know what you got till it’s gone.
Joe: Like the song, I know that too.
Oldman: (very serious) No you don’t. Sarcasm only gets you so far, then you get hit by a runaway car.
Joe: Now you rhyme? Look, I know you’re an old person and I’m supposed to respect you, but whatever caused this outpouring of blatantly obvious and utterly strange advice . . . (sighs because he isn’t listening) God? (looks upward) I know this is like some kind of punishment but . . . why that guy? (puts head in lap pitifully)
Enter Mom who is almost in tears
Mom: Oh, God, thank you thank you thank you. Sweetheart! (gives Joe a big hug)
Joe: He doesn’t need any more prodding, Mom.
Mom: What?! (melodramatic) I thought you were dead (sob sob) God saved you! God saved you for me! (sobbing)
Joe: (addressing God) Do you see what I mean?!
Oldman chuckles
Mom: Joe, sweetie, why were you in the middle of a street? (all of a sudden angry) Why did you have . . . why did you . . . did you?
Joe: Because I was asking God for something.
Mom: (ecstatic) Ohhhhhh! What? What were you praying for?
Joe: Reincarnation
Mom: (looking befuddled) Why?
Joe: You know (all positive) Death.
Mom: (mortified) Suicide? Oh my . . . suicide.
Joe: You make it sound like a bad thing.
Mom: Joe! You . . . how long have you felt . . . this way.
Joe: (mocking) Since . . . a . . . really long time. Does it really matter? I mean, it’s pretty much Society’s fault, what with all those “teen” magazines, skinny little bombshells, “Popularity”
Mom: Why is this a joke to you?
Joe: (smiling a little) Because (laugh) I don’t know. It’s just . . . just the way I feel, felt.
Mom: (shaking visibly) I uh . . . your sister’s sent you some cards. Honey, I . . . I have to think. Think. (nodding to herself) I’ll be back in a minute . . . or two. (exits)
Oldman: Makes you think, doesn’t it.
Joe: I’m glaring at you if you can’t tell. (pause, addresses God) AND you.
Enter Doctor
Joe: (huffs) Ah! There’s no end! No end in sight!
Doc: Do you have a choice?
Joe: I suppose not.
Doc: You know, I’m taking some psychology classes in college, Joe.
Joe: (nods seriously) And I’m in need of an expert.
Doc: (laughs) Your mom just spoke to me.
Joe: Somehow I couldn’t tell.
Doc: (shakes head) I think you’re gorgeous.
Joe is shocked and not able to speak
Doc: I’m very glad that nothing happened to you. Bad things, terrible, tragic, things roll through this hospital every day. I don’t even know why I took this job. I’m not at all capable, and . . . I didn’t “save” you or anything. I’m just . . . I’m new. You know, my brother’s are football players.
Joe: Really? Mine are volleyball, soccer, softball, basketball, and water polo.
Doc: Quite an array.
Joe: Tell me about it. - and - that was sarcastic.
Doc: Are you a middle child?
Joe: Yep, got the syndrome and everything. I’m a failure, I’m lonely, I’m way too different.
Doc: Right. And you’re family, sisters, mom, they don’t care about you?
Joe: No . . . (smirks) they care, I’m just . . . I’m the bottom of the barrel.
Doc: Not good enough to be alive anymore?
Joe: Well, if someone told me I was I must have missed it. I do however recall the letters
F-A-I-L-U-R-E
Doc: . . . failure? Isn’t everybody?
Joe: You aren’t.
Doc: (mockingly shocked) Me? Tell that to my parents! I live in a hovel with two guys who work at the Mickey D’s down on 7th.
Joe: That’s the street I got hit on.
Doc: What a coincidence.
Joe: How exactly are YOU a failure?
Doc: I just am.
Joe: But . . . you will eventually be making a lot of money right?
Doc: Money isn’t the problem. (pause) Fame, notoriety, stuff like that.
Joe: But . . . you save lives.
Doc: No I don’t.
Joe: But you will.
Doc: Hopefully.
Joe: (leers) Oh, get over it. You have a job, one that you like, and you . . . you’re a cute single doctor. What is wrong with that life?
Doc: I am single, yes, but . . . hey, what’s wrong with yours.
Joe: A lot of things. Especially now that my mom knows I’m one of those depressed freaks.
Doc: Eh . . . get over it. You have your whole life ahead of you. And you can do anything.
Joe: Now, if that wasn’t the most cliche thing I ever heard.
Doc: I’d say the same thing to you, but you already know it. (begins his exit) I’m Luke, by the way.
Joe: Hi, Luke.
Luke: Bye, Joe. (exits)
Joe: He told me his name? How cool (giggles). (looks at cards in her hands) Hmm.. . let’s see what my dear old sisters sent. (opens one and reads) “You aren’t dead. That’s a plus” - Wow, how deeply touching. (next card) “See you at the game” - Who does she think I am? I just got hit by a car! (next card) “ I want you to know, you aren’t the only one. Look at my life. I wished for a car once too, Lucky you. Love, Cecily” - Woah. Um, I hope this is a joke. Because . . . hmmm. (sober now)
Oldman: I think it’s time for you to go.
Joe: (startled) what?
Oldman: Yes, what the ant learns the world receives.
Joe: And I’m so not going to miss your snippets of crazy. (addresses God again) Is he yours too? He sure seems like it. And hey, uh . . . I promise to think about stuff. If that’s any consolation.
Oldman: I know.
Joe: I wasn’t talking to you.
Oldman: Don’t worry, be happy. Because God will let you get hit by the car and not die. (hums)
Joe: (annoyed then laughs) I give up. You want to be bizarre you be bizarre. Hey, why are you in here anyway?
Oldman is sleeping - it looks like.
Joe: Right. God? You got one sick sense of humor or are you just having fun? Really, I’d like to know.
Blackout- Whatever
Joe wearing normal clothing is standing by her bed, her mom is holding her hand.
Doc enters
Luke: She’s all ready then. (nods) I hope this is the last time I see either of you here.
Joe: No you don’t.
Luke: Well, yes, I . . . maybe (blushing) not.
Mom: Joe, will we talk, you and I?
Joe: Don’t we have too? Silence really isn’t a way of life.
Mom: I just -
Joe: Yeah, we will. I have to talk to Cecily too. So yeah, talk will be acceptable. Just, Mom, none of this “God is your only hope” stuff okay? I sort of, well, I have a “relationship” with Him now.
Mom: Wonderful! I . . . fine.
Joe: You go ahead, I’ll be out in a sec.
Mom exits
Joe: (walks over to Oldman’s bed but he isn’t there!) I... I didn’t think I slept that hard at night. (sees a piece of paper and picks it up) (reading) “I do have quite the knack for this humor business, don’t you think?” Hey, Luke?
Luke: Yes?
Joe: The old guy here . . . I didn’t know his name but-
Luke: What “old guy”
Joe: The (looks around, thinking, then laughs a little frightened) No way, that’s . . . that’s way too weird.
Luke: I must have missed this train of thought.
Joe: Huh? Never mind. (walks around to leave and bumps into Luke) sorry (blushing)
Luke: Maybe you can uh . . . pass by sometime? (walking out with her)
Joe: Uh-huh (dreamy eyed)
As they exit, Luke with her hand in his goes in front, Joe looks up to God and smiles
Joe: You’re all right, you know? All right.
END (finally I know!)
There’s a Fire in My Small, Small Town By: Jessica Austin
1 Kid= Punk, black clothes, strange jewelry If played by a female:dark makeup Male:unruly hair
2 kid = Preppy Church Person, white shirt If female: wears a skirt Male: dress shirt
The “kids” really aren’t children, but adolescents. They are refereed to as “1 Kid” and “2 kid” so that reading it won’t be as confusing. ( I hope)
1 Kid is crouching behind boxes, (or something that would symbolize forgotten “junk”) trying to be quiet, obviously frightened of something, but adrenaline is pumping.
1 Kid (talking to self): I can’t believe it. I can’t believe it. (laughs) Holy crap, it’s amazing. (getting situated on the ground) And . . . very bad. Terrifying. I didn’t set that fire, that stupid fire. But, I just set myself up for something like this. It’s what I get for being different in a small town. A very small town. (pauses as she pictures in her head) The whole church. Holy crap! (laughing again) That whole annoyingly righteous, monolithically ugly church. Yes, this like god finally telling those people that they’re just too stuck up for their own good. But of course, they’d blame it on someone like me. Someone who knows no God, at least, not theirs. And they’ve got the entire town out now, searching the streets. It’s like I’m freakin’ Frankenstein! But it really was arson. The police know that, but it wasn’t me. (keeps muttering to self)
2 kid enters, calling over her shoulder: Yeah! I’ll look over here! (rolls eyes and walks toward 1 Kid, and hears muttering)
1 Kid: I don’t need that kind of attention. I don’t want it. I don’t like it. I mean, look at me -
2 kid: Hello?
1 Kid jumps, screams and looks up: Shi -
2 kid: Calm down.
1 Kid looks with recognition on Kid#2: I’m not going to make a big fuss, okay? Just go yell for someone and I’ll -
2 kid: Why would I do that?
1 Kid: Because you are one of them.
2 kid: You know, I really don’t care. I don’t give a damn about that church.
1 Kid (shocked): Wait . . . huh?
2 kid: I could care less about this stupid town and its stupid church.
1 Kid has an immediate idea, is shocked and tries to cover it: And how would your parent’s feel about that? They’d be angry, wouldn’t they?
2 kid: And I would care because . . .
1 Kid: Because everyone would hate you.
2 kid: Well, people like you already do. So I guess my options are a little thin.
1 Kid: Not as thin as mine.
2 kid: You have friends.
1 Kid: So do you. But I hate them too, so I really shouldn’t be consulted on the subject.
2 kid: (laughing) Right, and why should you like them. They are the most boring and immature people I know.
1 Kid: Then . . . why? Why would you still hang around that crowd? I should say the crowd, because there really is only one.
2 kid: Not everybody can be as free as you. Not everybody can just say “Screw the world, I’m on my own!” And -
1 Kid: Hold on . . . if you’re saying that people can’t be different, you’re wrong. Most people just don’t want to be. One thing you have to have to stand out is a shield against fear.
2 kid: Everybody gets afraid.
1 Kid: Look at me. Do I look afraid to you?
2 kid: Yes! What are doing here if you aren’t afraid?
1 Kid: That’s different! This, this is like jail! For something I didn’t even do!
2 kid: You won’t go to jail. Just juvenile hall or something, and that’s probably pretty familiar to you anyway.
1 Kid: No! It is not “familiar” to me. I have never committed a crime, and I didn’t set that fire.
2 kid: I know, but you’re afraid of it, aren’t you?
1 Kid: I’m not afraid! Fear comes alive in conformity. Fear is going to the same church everybody else does even though you hate it. Fear eats people like you! People who don’t ever change. The same old day in day out, because you are afraid. You are terrified to stand out.
2 kid: Some people just aren’t like that.
1 Kid: Aren’t like what?
2 kid: Like you! Some people just aren’t different!
1 Kid: Why?
2 kid: Because they aren’t!
1 Kid: Why? Why can’t people be like they want to be? Why can’t “people” be different?
2 kid: Because . . . ! Because it doesn’t work that way. Because.
1 Kid: That’s not an answer.
2 kid: Yes it is! It is a good enough answer!
1 Kid: Why won’t you give me an answer?!
2 kid: Maybe . . . maybe they don’t . . . don’t want to change. Some people just can’t up and change like a television channel! There is no remote that I can just push a button on and “Hey, what do you know, I’m different!”
1 Kid: Right. You’re afraid to change. Exactly, it’s all fear.
2 kid: No! It is not fear. (pushes 1 Kid) Look at you, you hypocrite! Black on black every day of every month is not change! Where’s the change in this shirt?!(grabbing at 1 Kid) Where’s the change in the jewelry?! Where’s a change in the attitude?!
1 Kid: I like these clothes!
2 kid: Then wear white tomorrow, I dare you.
1 Kid: I hate white.
2 kid: Yellow? How ‘bout yellow?
1 Kid: I don’t need to change. I’m happy.
2 kid: Happy?! You are happy?
1 Kid: Yeah, I am, most of the time.
2 kid: No, you aren’t. You hate being stereotyped as much as I do! You can’t be happy! You are the biggest hypocrite in the whole world! You think you’re so much better than everybody else, everybody who follows rules, who goes to church, who doesn’t wear black every day. You know what?! You are scum. You are what everybody says you are!
1 Kid: Who are you?
2 kid: . . . I’m -
1 Kid: No, I know who you are. I’ve known you since 6th grade when you sang at the assembly and everyone said you had the voice of an angel, and I thought you sucked. You ran in student government last year, and I didn’t vote for you -
2 kid: Yes, we do go to the same school. Because it’s the only one in town -
1 Kid: But who are you? You’ve conformed to a point where I can’t see you. You’re like a white piece of an all white puzzle. You fit in so damn well that you don’t exist, and I couldn’t pick you out of a crowd if I tried. Yeah, you know what? I am better than you!
2 kid: I can’t be like that, like you. I . . . I don’t know how!
1 Kid: I think you do. I really think you do.
2 kid: No, I . . . there’s no room for me to breathe! I’m stuck in neutral, becoming a shadow of . . . of whoever I ever was.
1 Kid: Fire is pretty. Fire lights stuff up.
2 kid: What are you talking about?
1 Kid: Fire changes things. If I had the courage to set that fire, I would have.
2 kid: Why?
1 Kid: Well, you did, so you tell me.
2 kid: I . . . I don’t know. I just needed to show somebody, anybody. I needed to show God that I’m not perfect. I’m messed up. I needed to stand out for a second. I needed that light.
1 Kid: (a little shaken up by the reality of it all) We’re not that much different, you and I.
2 kid: How so?
1 Kid: Well, we’re both pretty screwy. We just seem to have a lot of the same feelings. About, you know, stuff. Like, non-conformity.
2 kid: I hate being so regular. I hate conforming.
1 Kid: So do I.
2 kid: I couldn’t tell.
Both Laugh
1 Kid: But, I am a hypocrite, and no I’m not that happy. But it has nothing to do with the clothes or the color. Even if I dressed like an angel, I’d still feel this loneliness.
2 kid: Join the club.
1 Kid: I didn’t know there was one.
2 kid: Yeah . . . maybe we should make one. Just for us screwed up people.
1 Kid: After you get out of juvi, you can give me a call. We’ll, I don’t know, yell at each other some more.
2 kid: (laughs, then “juvi” registers) You . . . you won’t say anything.
1 Kid: Huh? Oh, yes, yes I will. You’re not getting out of this one. I just can’t have the whole town burning me alive, now can I?
2 kid: Oh, they wouldn’t do anything like that. Plus . . . I’ll vouch for you.
1 Kid laughs as she/he takes his/her arm: No, I’d much rather turn you in.
2 kid: What? (with a hint of excitement) Really?
1 Kid: Justice must be done, my friend. People have to change.
2 kid: Wow, scary.
1 Kid: I know.
The Yellow House - Love the Hard Way
by: Jess Austin
Scene takes place in a kitchen with a table and a couple chairs. Table should have a nice cloth on it and some sunflowers in a vase (or other flowers, whatever).
Shane - Husband Mira - Wife Anneline and Theo are children who are mentioned.
Shane enters stage left
Mira: Hi . . . how was your day . . . sweetheart?
Shane: What’s wrong?
Mira: Not much . . . how are you?
Shane: Stop it.
Mira: Stop what? I said nothing is wrong.
Shane: I’ve been married to you for eighteen years, Mira, what is going on?
Mira: You don’t want to talk to me, so just go off and sit in your chair and . . . and ignore my problems like you do every day! Ignore me!
Shane shakes head and begins to exit the way he came
Mira: Wa . . . wait, please.
Shane: Is it Anneline? You and her pissing each other off again?
Mira: Theo . . . Theodore is a homosexual.
Shane: Excuse me?
Mira: I said your son is a homosexual!
Shane: (floored and shocked) He . . . I don’t . . . I guess he told you, just now?
Mira: Well, a while ago. Today, and I. What did I do?
Shane: Shut up.
Mira: Shane! What did I do?
Shane: Would you shut up? I can’t think.
Mira: What can I do?
Shane: Mira! You’ve already done too much. All of that boy’s life he had God shoved down throat. He had religion and perfection to shoot for. So he turned out a little different, and . . . (calms down) how long?
Mira: He said five years.
Shane: Five . . . sixteen. Oh, sixteen! He never told us. (laughing a little) - Why would he? Why should he face you at your worst?
Mira: You blame me. I get it. Well, it is wrong.
Shane: And I’m sure you told him that at great length. Mira, your more than lucky that Theo is not some depressed kid, because he loves you and he -
Mira: He can’t love me. He has chosen a lifestyle that will send him to Hell.
Shane: How can you think that?! He’s your son. Your son!
Mira: Did you contemplate being gay?
Shane: Mira! I don’t have to take this. He walked out didn’t he?! He left you! (begins to exit)
Mira: Everyone! Everyone leaves, Shane! And it’s you! You hate me and so do my children!
Shane: You know how easy it is to blame me?! I don’t care. I don’t even listen anymore, so go right ahead.
Mira: No! It is your fault. I’m trying my hardest to be a good mother and-
Shane: You can’t control this, Mira, not like you do everything else. You can not tell Theo he will go to Hell.
Mira: But he . . . no, he can change -
Shane: Does he want to?
Mira: Why do you ask me that? Of course not, he’s your clone . . . no wait, that’s Anneline.
Shane (seething with rage): Then what children do you have? I imagine they aren’t mine!
Mira: No, because you never just let me be!
Shane: Uhhhhh, Mira! You don’t know how to change! You are set in stone, permanent as the Fiery Underworld you believe in.
Mira: So I’m going to Hell too? I’ll meet my only there -
Shane: What? You know that’s not what I said!
Mira: No, I don’t. Can I read your mind? You always tell me you can’t!
Shane: I’m trying not to explode here, Mira, and you are not making it any easier.
Mira: Exactly, because I’m the only one who ever gets angry! I’m the only one who knows how to show emotions!
(dramatic pause)
Shane: How can you say that? You know you’re dead wrong.
Mira: I’m not! I’m right, you are totally emotionless. Nothing I do bothers you, does it? You don’t care about me at all.
Shane: Of course I care, why would I still be married to someone I don’t care about. (puts arms around her) This is going to be messy, and it’s alright to lean on somebody. I’m here.
Mira: Why do I not believe that?
Shane: I don’t know, why don’t you?
Mira: What is wrong with me, Shane? God made me wrong. I’m defective.
Shane: You have a lot to learn, I guess.
Mira: But . . . I’m not an adolescent (pushes him away) I’m a grown woman! Why can’t I be how I want to be?! Why am I so offensive to my daughter!?
I . . . I’m an outcast in my own damn family! For the good of all of you I’ll just kill myself. I’ll commit suicide so everyone will love me. Or hate me and I’ll have no idea! Just stop me from living in this time period when respect is something that comes with the seasons and love is distanced from caring by an unruly monster of selfishness and fear. And no one believes in God because His rules are just too inconvenient! Who am I supposed to be in this world? What place do I have? What am I, Shane? (waits)
Shane: A woman.
Mira: Am I? I don’t even have a personality according to Anneline. I’m a fake, just like you.
Shane: I can’t tell you what to believe.
Mira: Yeah? Well, you never even tried, did you?
Shane: I used to.
Mira: But . . . everything has to be easy. What’s so hard about hearing the truth?
Shane: Truth is objective.
Mira: (face gets all confused) Then what is truth? What is the truth in this situation?
Shane: That you love your son, but his choices have conflicted with the pillars of your faith. Now you don’t know what’s what. I don’t suppose it helps that Anneline is at her rebelling stage, like all teenagers go through at some point. You just have to get used to it. You have to change.
Mira: I’m glad you can reduce it to Legos, Shane, (the building blocks) simple stack-and-go. Somehow it seems quite a bit more complicated in my mind.
Shane: I . . . I’m not perfect either. But I don’t dwell on it.
Mira: No . . . you wouldn’t.
Shane looks like he’ll reply for an instant, then kisses her head and exits while Mira is staring at the ground.
Mira: Only people have problems, Shane, only people.