A Play
By
Art Hennessey
DARREN HOUSING, face
late 20’s, eyes, Mid 30’s and Body Mid 40’s. Dressed in a
suit, wanders onto the stage.
Puts down his briefcase, a small piece of folded up paper in one hand. And addresses the audience.
It is here somewhere… Just one second. I know. This is very
annoying. I know.
(He searches some more.)
Poor planning on my
part is no rush on yours. Ah ha!
(Snaps
his fingers and reaches into his breast pocket. After a beat, he comes out with
a half eaten Snickers bar. He holds it up.)
This isn’t it
really. Now, I am actually getting a
little nervous and… One moment…
(He searches through all of his
pockets again.)
I’m sorry it’s ummm.
I’m not really like this, it’s…You see it’s you.
(Looks at a specific audience member.)
Oh, I’m sorry. Not
YOU, you. But all of you. Here. Public speaking, worse fear than insect bites,
seeing you without underwear…
(Looks at specific audience member
again.)
Oh, I’m sorry not
YOU… All of you, without clothes……but in
your underwear. That’s where my mind
should be. As the saying goes…
(Resigned
to not finding the object, he puts his hands slightly out, apologetically.)
The recitation I was
planning will have to be from memory, because I can’t find the…
(His
eye catches the paper, which has been folded in his hand the whole time.)
If I was any good at
this I would probably have made this look like my opening joke.
(He
unfolds the paper. A picture falls out. He picks it up. Looks at it.)
This was in there. I
forgot.
(Pause.)
My wife is poet.
Yes. I know. How cliché. She is not a
very good poet either, which is not cliché, but more… typical.
Both my grandparents
are from Ireland and when we were young, an old relative from Ireland visited
us.
He was a poet of
some reknown. Which, all of these things taken together means he was a
miserable old drunken man, who was trying to hit up my family for money.
We had this big
anthology of poems on our bookshelf, next to all of my Dad’s World War II books
about hunting Nazis. (Till I was ten I
thought the Swastika was a publishers imprint.)
So this old man
pulls out the poetry book and he sits me on his knee. “How long have people
been writing poems?,” he asked. I didn’t
know. “Thousands of years,” he answers.
He raised the poetry
book a little and continued, “You see this book. This is a big, big book isn’t
it?
This book contains
best poems from all that time, all those thousands of years. It seems like a
really big book, no?”
He opened the book
and started turning pages. “But if you took all of the poems written, all of
the love letters and riddles and commercial jingles and limericks of all times,
and put them together in books, do you know how many books you would have?
You would have to
build a library the size of your town. Millions and millions of books like
these.”
My apologies, he
really didn’t sound like the Lucky Charms leprechaun.
“But these are the
best,” he said, “All those verses, all that heartache, all that ink. A whole library full, but only really, a
handful, a smattering, a disappearing vapor of them, get to be in a book like
this.”
He pointed down to
small poem on one of the pages near the back of the book.
“That’s my poem,
there. My name. Not one in a million get to say that, but there it is.”
He began to read
this poem about a stinky cartpath and, oh, some Irish woman limping with some
medicine in a cracked ceramic vase. I
think she died… Or dropped the vase. I didn’t really pay attention because the
alcohol on his breath was fantastically strong.
At night, I still
sometimes have dreams of my hometown transformed into a gigantic library of
mediocre and bad poetry.
There is courtyard in
the center where some of the great poets are at a gala or something.
You can see them
from the windows, but you can’t really ever find your way into the center. You
keep having to go down these long endless wings that circle back on each other.
In gray, stacks
aisles, I sometimes find a few sheets of my wife’s poetry sitting on the
floor. I pick it up and hear the
laughter outside at the gala, I sometimes hear my uncle… and…
(DARREN looks at the paper.)
This is one of my
wife’s poems and…
Sorry, I feel as if
I have to make a lot of apologies. She is not very…
She has so much
energy…and creativity. And…well here it goes:
“Your numbers masked
by brilliant traces..”
It’s about, you see,
flowers and trees…
(Beat.)
…fighting each
other. I’ll just…
(Continues to Read.)
“and the…”
She does
performance. Very “out there” things. She’s always riding against the traffic…
on a unicycle. Literally.
I had her stop though,
because I didn’t want her to get hurt, there are a lot of cobblestones near us.
(He looks at the picture.)
I love her.
And she sometimes
performs naked. Yeah, it is a little strange..especially when she uses paints.
I don’t get all of it, but her friends seem to be very enthusiastic and they’re
all right. They seem like they…pay taxes and have jobs.
Late in October, she
would get up early, and go stand in major intersections, where she would hold
wave at traffic holing signs, kind of like the ones political candidates have.
The signs would say…
“Beckett” or “Brecht” “Foreman” or…, oh, “Genet” She would wave with a big smile, like a all
the other legitimate campaign volunteers.
And people would actually beep at her.
I’m sorry, got to
watch the tense. I forgot that this is the beginning not the end.
(Looks at the poems. Reads a little
more about Forsythia’s)
It’s my birthday
today. And, one of things about being married to a wildly insane performance
artist is birthday surprises.
(Beat.)
Whether you are in
the mood for them or not.
(PORTIA
HOUSING holds a piece of paper, along with a just opened envelope in one hand.
She stares out into the distance. She does this for a long time.
She
ambles to the mirror. Looks at herself.
She
wanders to a chair, sits down, papers still in her hand.
She
gets up, darts to the mirror again. She
pulls her hair back. Angling her head this way and that.
She
breathes a big sigh. Eyes close. She
looks at the papers again.
She
sits down on the floor, and she begins to do pushups.
She
stops. Looks over at some half wrapped presents in the corner she goes over and
starts to wrap them quickly. She hears something.
DARREN
enters.)
DARREN
Hel-
PORTIA
HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!
DARREN
-lo
PORTIA
Is the sun still
out?
DARREN
Yes.
PORTIA
Longer days, I get
used to you being home from work in the dark.
You surprised me.
DARREN
No, you did a pretty
good job at surprising me. Are you all right?
PORTIA
No I was just a little…surprised.
I shouldn’t really rely on the sun, should I? Not for things like arrivals and
departures.
DARREN
Well, my dear you
could always take a chance on something like a time-piece.
PORTIA
I would never wear a
watch
DARREN
I know, but you are
wearing one now.
PORTIA
Oh this? This watch
doesn’t work.
(Beat.)
Happy Birthday!
DARREN
Swiss Army, huh?
PORTIA
I guess.
DARREN
Did you get it at a
Thrift store?
PORTIA
Do you want it?
DARREN
A broken watch?
PORTIA
It’s right twice a
day!
DARREN
It’s a little beat
up. How much did you pay for it?
PORTIA
Oh, I don’t
remember.
DARREN
Was it over 5
dollars cause you probably got ripped off?
PORTIA
It was more than 5,
but it was a long time ago.
DARREN
Oh.
PORTIA
No, I just dug it up
today.
DARREN
In the basement?
PORTIA
I thought I wouldn’t
find it.
DARREN
Just looking for the
watch you went into the basement?
PORTIA
No, No, No I was
looking for something.
DARREN
Something in the
basement, good luck.
PORTIA
…And the watch was
with it.
PORTIA goes over to small box.
DARREN
This is your watch?
It seems kind of…rugged. Portia? Sweetie?
PORTIA
It’s your watch
now. Now look at it. Look at it real closely.
DARREN
Is this a new magic
trick?
PORTIA
What do you see when
you look at it?
DARREN
It’s got some
scratches and dents.
(Looks
up. Apparently this is not enough. He looks back down.)
It’s worn, but it’s
sturdy. It’s got ummm…glow in the dark hands.
(Beat.)
Am I passing this
test?
PORTIA
You are doing fine.
DARREN
Does this watch mean
something to you?
PORTIA
It means something
to us.
DARREN
What?
PORTIA
I shouldn’t have had
the watch on I didn’t quite mean to have it…
DARREN
Sweetie…
PORTIA
I thought your
birthday would go a little different…I had the cake ingredients…
DARREN
Sweetie…
PORTIA
…and now the cake is
burnt…And I only had the watch on because I had to find the box.
DARREN
The Box?
PORTIA
The Watch was in the
Box.
DARREN
So, you burned the
cake because you had to find the box.
PORTIA
Yeah. There was a lot going on.
DARREN
Maybe you do need
the watch.
PORTIA
It doesn’t work. This
is ridiculous. I don’t have it ready.
DARREN
What?
PORTIA
Please know that I
wanted to prepare everything and make it special, but I didn’t know it was
going to take so fucking long to find the box.
DARREN
You didn’t need to
stress yourself out? I could look at the box tomorrow.
(Pause. PORTIA looks at him.)
You needed to find
the box today? Before I came home? What’s wrong honey?
(Pause.)
Whose watch is this?
(PORTIA picks up a shoebox. She goes to
hand it to him. She can’t help herself.
She goes to a paper bag sitting by the chair and pulls out gift bag. It
is too small. She pulls out another gift bag and puts the shoebox into it. She
hands him the box.)
DARREN
What is in the box?
PORTIA
Just open it.
Please.
(DARREN
Opens the box and takes out a piece of cardboard.)
DARREN
What is this?
Sergeant rank? U.S. And a target thingy?
PORTIA
Marksmanship
qualification.
(Beat)
Expert
DARREN
Did you know
somebody in the Army?
PORTIA
Yeah.
DARREN (DARREN holds up a
nameplate.)
Your father?
PORTIA
No.
DARREN
Well, this was his
last name. Did he have brother?
PORTIA
It was my last name
too.
DARREN
You don’t have a
brother. Oh, my god. Did you have a
brother that died?
PORTIA
No.
DARREN
Well, who?
(Portia hands him an envelope.)
(DARREN Opens the Envelope and
reads.)
“Department of the
Army…TT…Organizational…Critical MOS…
Specialty… …Change
of Duty Status. BN… Fort Bragg North
Carolina. Time in Grade. SSG Portia
Freeling. What is this?
PORTIA
Orders.
DARREN
You can read this?
PORTIA
Their mine.
DARREN
What does it say?
PORTIA
It says I have to
report to Fort Bragg. I will be attached
to the 314th Military Intelligence Battalion and…
DARREN
Sweetie…
PORTIA
Yes.
DARREN
You did it again. I
have to give you credit for that.
PORTIA
Mmmm.
DARREN
Surprise! Right?
PORTIA
No.
DARREN
Like the time you
got Ralph to bring me onstage for his act…
PORTIA
Wait, Darren…
DARREN
I am always on the
lookout for your Birthday Surprises since then..
PORTIA
A surprise is the
last thing I intended.
DARREN
Well. I love it.
PORTIA
I’m not sure you are
going to.
DARREN
There’s more?
PORTIA
Darren, these are
orders from the Department of the Army. I have been recalled to serve with the
101st Airborne. They want me
to be there in three weeks.
DARREN
O.K.
PORTIA
You don’t believe
me?
DARREN
That you are being
recalled to the Army?
PORTIA
Uh-huh.
DARREN
No.
PORTIA
Why not?
DARREN
Because, how can you
be recalled when you were never in the Army.
PORTIA
Why don’t you
believe that?
DARREN
Well, you never
mentioned it. We dated for two years and have now been married for four.
PORTIA
I was in the Army
for 4 years, I was a tactical intelligence specialist. I spent most of my enlistment assigned to the
102nd MI Battalion in Korea and I left as an E-5 promotable.
DARREN
You do your
research, I will give you that. Portia, you have not the slightest military
bearing about you. You are constantly
late, you often have the wrong socks on.
(PORTIA goes to the center of the
room.)
ATTENTION! (She snaps to attention.)
Right Face!
Left Face!
Left Face!
Left Face!
About Face!
Parade Rest!
At Ease!
DARREN
Is this a new
performance piece you are doing?You are not in the Army.
PORTIA
“This is my M16
rifle
There are many like
it
But this one is mine
It is an air cooled…
DARREN
You are a liberal,
and an artist.
(PORTIA goes behind the sofa and
reaches down under it. She comes out
with a handgun.)
DARREN
What is that?
PORTIA
A 9 Millimeter.
DARREN
What show are using
this for.
PORTIA
No show. It’s real.
(PORTIA
hands him the gun. DARREN is obviously uncomfortable.)
DARREN
It’s real! I don’t
want it. I have never touched a gun in my life. What if it goes off!
PORTIA (Heads to the back of the sofa
again.)
It’s not loaded.
DARREN
How long have you
had this here. We’re lucky we didn’t get arrested.
PORTIA
I have a license.
DARREN
Since when?
PORTIA
Since I wanted a gun
and I needed to have a license. Before we were married I guess.
DARREN
You have kept a gun
in the house all these years?
(PORTIA
takes the gun and puts a clip of ammunition into the weapon.)
PORTIA
Now we have a loaded
gun in the house.
(She laughs.)
DARREN (Goes to sit down.)
This is really
disturbing.
PORTIA (Approaching him.)
Darren…
DARREN (Seeing the gun.)
Hey…
PORTIA (Puts down the gun.)
Darren. I never meant to hide things from you.
(She
picks up the shoe box and brings it over to him.)
It just. As we were
meeting and getting to know one another, it never really came up. We had so much in common and that was
something that wasn’t. And it was really
years before we met. I was such a different person.
DARREN (Looking at the box.)
So these are your
things? What are these?
PORTIA
Weapons
Qualifications. That’s M-16. M203 Grenade Launcher, SAW, M-60 Machine Gun, and
of course 9 Millimeter.
DARREN
Of course.
PORTIA
…Oh and 50 Caliber.
DARREN
How big is that?
PORTIA
You have to hold it
with two hands.
DARREN
All right. This is
starting to sound like dialogue from a bad action movie.
PORTIA
In a good way?
DARREN
What are these? Airborne? Air Assault? I suddenly feel like I
am married to a video game character.
PORTIA
Sergeant Portia
Freeling Commando
(There is brief beat.)
I guess it is
Sergeant Housing now.
DARREN
When were you going
to tell me about this?
PORTIA
I got the letter
today. It only came today.
DARREN
No, I mean about the
Army and everything.
PORTIA
Everything?
DARREN
The gun?! The gun under the sofa. Under the sofa, where
we watch TV!
PORTIA
It wasn’t always
under the sofa…I used to keep it under the bed.
DARREN
So when was I going
to find all of this out? When we are
older and you pass away and an army officer appears at the funeral to hand me
flag?
PORTIA
I don’t know. Like I
said, it never came up.
DARREN
Yes, it never came
up because I have not been in the Army. I don’t have context for it. You would have had to bring it up.
PORTIA
I never saw the
right…in.
DARREN
What would
constitute the right “in.”?
PORTIA
There was never
anything particularly…military going on.
DARREN
We have talked
plenty about the military. We talked at family gatherings about the military.
PORTIA
What about the
military?
DARREN
War! War for one.
Don’t you think that war tangentially touches the ARMY just a little bit?
PORTIA
And what does your
family say about War and the army?
DARREN
I don’t know what
you mean.
PORTIA
Come on, Darren,
your family is so against the war and the army and anything military. You
parents lament that anybody has to go in the army..
DARREN
And what about your
parents?
(There is long pause.)
I’m sorry.
(PORTIA is shocked.)
DARREN is seen on headset talking to clients:
DARREN
Hello, Mr. Huntz, I am Darren Housing of UL Consulting and
it is my understanding that you would be the person responsible for procuring
Financial Analysts, is this correct. I
have a matter I would like to speak with you about, please call me back at 725-555-2121,
thank you. I look forward to speaking with you.
(Pause.)
Hello, Carol, I am Darren Housing of UL Consulting and it is
my understanding that you would be the person responsible for procuring
Financial Analysts, is this correct? I
have a matter I would like to speak with you about, please call me back at
725-555-2121, thank you. I look forward to speaking with you.
(DARREN fishes
through his pocket, comes up with a torn up envelope. He puts it back together
to read the name and number on it. He
dials the number. Sergeant First Class CLINTON appears on the opposite side of
the stage.)
Hello, S. F. C. Clinton.
Hi, S.F.C?
SERGEANT
CLINTON
Sergeant First Class.
DARREN
Excuse me?
SERGEANT
CLINTON
Sergeant First Class...SFC
DARREN
Oh, I see.
SERGEANT
CLINTON
You can call me Sergeant.
DARREN
Sergeant. I am calling. I work at UL Consulting and I get
your mailings and e-mails. About job placement...
SERGEANT
They send those out from a central location. I don’t even know who they are going to. Are you interested in a career in the Armed
Forces?
DARRREN
No. Oh, you misunderstand. I think the letter was about us
referring people to you.
SERGEANT
You got some recruits for me?
DARREN
No. Well, I keep meaning to respond, we place...we’re career
specialists.
SERGEANT
So am I.
DARREN
Financial professionals, Vice President level people, those
are the types of people we get.
Sometimes lawyers.
SERGEANT
So do I.
DARREN
So. I wouldn’t probably come across anybody that was looking
for something like that.
SERGEANT
The heart of a warrior beats under many masks.
DARREN
Where is that from?
SERGEANT
I don’t know.
(Little Pause.)
Well.
DARREN
What does an Intelligence Specialist do?
SERGEANT
Why are you asking?
DARREN
I...
SERGEANT
That is a highly classified MOS.
DARREN
A, MOS like that...what would somebody do with that.
SERGEANT
What is your name?
DARREN
Why?
SERGEANT
You see, this is very sensitive stuff you are talking
about. Times are sensitive.
DARREN
I see.
SERGEANT
Talking about sensitive stuff in sensitive times is
sensitive.
(Beat.)
I don’t know who said that either. But I’ll tell you what,
these phones are monitored.
DARREN
I just wanted information.
SERGEANT
About what?
DARREN
Intelligence Work.
SERGEANT
Mmm. Mmm.
DARREN
That’s all I wanted, just some information.
SERGEANT
In secret prisons, all over the world, we have people saying
that exact same thing.
DARREN
I have a friend who is going in the Army and I really don’t
know anything about it.
SERGEANT
Well, ask your friend.
DARREN
I can’t.
SERGEANT
Well...
DARREN
Please. I don’t want any secret information, I just need to
know a few general things.
SERGEANT
Ask somebody you know who was in.
DARREN
I don’t know anybody who was in. I know that seems
ridiculous, but last night I wracked my brains and couldn’t think of
anybody. I knew a guy in college who was
in ROTC, but he got axed for being asthmatic or something. Then I thought about
all the letters I got from you.
SERGEANT
Listen, what is your name?
(Pause.)
I’m not gonna send you to Guantanamo Bay, what is your name.
DARREN
Darren.
SERGEANT
Darren. Why don’t you come on down to the office and we’ll
talk about this.
DARREN
I’m not sure I can do that, I really need to talk to
somebody soon. Also...
SERGEANT
Yeah?
DARREN
I’m not sure my friend should be there...I mean going into
the Army. It just doesn’t seem like the
place for this person.
SERGEANT
We take all kinds of people. Tell you what, you come in and talk
to me if you get a chance. I got to run now.
DARREN
I appreciate you taking the time to speak with me.
(HOMELESS VETERAN appears eating a
sandwich, he has a “DISABLED VETERAN sign next to him.)
HOMELESS
VETERAN
It’s no problem.
SERGEANT
We are here to serve.
HOMELESS
VETERAN
I got the time.
SERGEANT
If you are ever interested, please stop by.
` HOMELESS VETERAN
You OK?
DARREN
Yeah, I..ummm. Is the
sandwich OK?
HOMELESS
VETERAN
Too much bread, but what the hell.
DARREN
It’s cold out.
HOMELESS
VETERAN
Not so bad.
DARREN
Aren’t you getting a little cold?
HOMELESS
VETERAN
It got so cold in the Korean War, up by China, that a
soldier’s piss would freeze. They found
guys frozen solid, leaned up against trees. Frozen solid.
DARREN
What war were you in?
HOMELESS
VETERAN
The real forgotten War. Grenada.
DARREN
Were you wounded?
HOMELESS
VETERAN
You want to hear war stories? Why are you asking that? Do I
look like I have something wrong with me?
DARREN
You’re disabled.
HOMELESS
VETERAN