Remembrance

A one-act play. A man pines for a clean slate.

Curtain opens on an old man in pajamas and a robe sitting at a table facing the audience, working on a jigsaw puzzle.  The room is small, furnished in mismatched, generic plywood furniture. It’s made to look like an apartment but medical equipment is clearly visible. The table is placed in the middle of the room in the foreground and a standard twin-sized bed can be seen in the background with a small wooden chair placed next to it. There are two doors; one is placed stage left in profile and is the main entrance to the room. The other is positioned stage right in the background.  There is framed artwork of the kind seen in any hotel room, mass produced and common, hanging crooked on the wall. There was clearly no thought put into functionality or aesthetics. Nothing in the room hints at a specific time-period (We know it is in the early 21st century, from the orderly on a cell phone).  With the exception of the occupant, the room could be mistaken for a storage room.

[Stage right �" door opens and a bearded young man, early thirties walks in.  He is dressed very unassumingly; slacks and a button down shirt]

Old man [looks up]: Oh hello, uh, good afternoon.

Young man [approaches slowly]:    Hi, good afternoon.  I hope I’m not disturbing you �"

Old man:      No, no…not at all.  Please, come on in.

Young man: Are you sure I’m not bothering you?

Old man:      No, it’s no bother.  I can use the company.  I’m just working on a puzzle.  [Taps the box]  Trying to keep the mind sharp.

Young man: Yeah, that’s certainly important.

[The young man walks over to the table and looks at the scattered mess of pieces]

Young man: Jigsaw puzzle, nice.  I like the wood-block puzzles myself.  I have a collection.

Old man:      [troubled] Yeah…um.  This one here’s 500 pieces; it’s supposed to show a boat or something.  I grabbed it from out of the community room.

Young Man: Why don’t you work on it in there?

Old Man: [Shaking his head} No way, nuh uh. See, that’s where they stash the bad cases, the empty minds.  Those folks would’ve just stared at the box all day. They didn’t stay sharp enough to still have something to put together, ha ha.

[The young man stares at the old man silently for a moment and the old man shifts uneasily in his chair]

Old man:      Why don’t…uh...why don’t you have a seat.  You can help me.

Young man: Sure, I’d love to.

[The young man looks around and then walks over to a wooden chair in the background, picks it up and places it at the table, sitting in profile. The old man goes back to picking at his puzzle and begins talking to the young man.]

Old man:      So tell me, are you here visiting one of your parents?  Would I know your mother maybe?

Young man: You might.  Believe me, she’s someone you’d want to forget if you did.  But no, she doesn’t live here.

Old man:      Right.  Tough mother, huh? Ha! I can relate.  Your father then, is he here?

Young man: [distantly] No, uh…no.

Old man:      Gotcha.  A volunteer.  They always get some kind-hearts here, floating around from room to room.  Tell me, do you plan on robbing me too?

Young man: [Laughs] What?

Old man:      [leans in to face him] Oh yeah, absolutely.  The last guy they had around here was robbing the place blind.  He’d started with the bad cases, the empty minds. They don’t have much though, don’t really need to.  Some of the ones that stayed sharp, he shook them down for whatever they had on them. He robbed Betty down the hall for $20 with a damn butter knife.  They caught the guy after that one.

Young man: [amazed] Wow…uh, no, I swear, ha ha.  I can promise you, I’m not here to rob you.  That’s incredible though, I’m sorry that happened.

Old man:      Didn’t happen to me, what’re you sorry for?

Young man: [laughs weakly] Yeah.  Old habit, my mother made sure I always apologized, even if I didn’t do anything wrong.

Old man:      [nods head in agreement] Yeah, my mother did the same.  I heard a quote some years back: “There’s a fine line between remorse and cowardice.” Kinda changed my perspective a little bit.

Young man: I’ll have to remember that one.

Old man:      Yeah, well…good luck with that.  People don’t usually come to a place like this to remember, they come to forget.  The staff, the patients, [points at the young man] the volunteers; we’re all trying to forget something.

Young man: [Amused] That’s an interesting take on it.

Old man:      Oh yeah.  Take you for instance, ya probably did something bad and now you’re feeling sorry.  So you come to a place like this, put your time in and you try to forget about it. These rooms are just storage for parents and grandparents of people who wanted to lighten their load, forget for a while.  Then there are the ones who can’t help but forget.

Young man: The empty minds?  [the old man nods] Is that why you’re building the puzzle?  Trying to keep your mind sharp so you can remember?

Old man:      [leans back in the chair] Oh, well…a sharp mind can forget things too, if you want.  That’s the trick.

Young man: And what do you want to forget?

[There’s a pause.  The old man shifts uneasily again, purposefully not answering the question.]

Old man:      [leans forward and starts picking at the puzzle] So, uh…you were saying something about your mother?

Young man: Oh, nothing really, just that she made sure I was well mannered.  She demanded respect. Iron-fist kind of lady.

Old man:      Same here…[pause, drops puzzle piece and looks at the young man] They thought they’d teach respect from the end of a belt.  But that’s the problem. That doesn’t teach nothin’ but fear.  I never laid a hand on my kids; I made sure they had nothing to be afraid of.

Young man: Yeah…that’s my plan.  Break the cycle, you know.  I guess I can’t really blame her, that’s how she was raised, that’s all she knew.  If my father were there, maybe it would have been easier on her.

Old man:      Maybe.  My father ran out, don’t even know his name.  My mother tried, did what she could. It wasn’t easy, I’m sure.  She was a strict one though, “iron-fist” like you said. But she had to be. She was a single mother when that wasn’t so common, know what I mean?  Even so…

[The old man’s hand goes to his forehead as the lights dim, going into a memory from a long time ago.  A spotlight focuses on the closed door in the background, stage right which opens and shows a dim orange light and some furniture visible through the door frame.  Two voices are heard offstage: a woman and a little boy.]

Woman:        [strict voice, cold and angry] I told you to behave!  You are an embarrassment! I told you what would happen if you acted up again!

Little boy:    [Crying] I’m sorry!  Momma, I’m sorry!

[Whacking sounds can be heard.  The child is wailing with every hit.]

Woman:        Do what I tell you next time and this won’t happen!  You did this to yourself!

Little boy:    Momma, please!  I’m sorry!

[The door slams shut heavily.  The spotlight fades out from the door and the lights come back in the main area. The old man still holds his hand to his head and starts to moan quietly.]

Old man:      No…oh, no…

Young man: [Stands up to check on the old man] Are you okay?

Old man:      What?  Oh, nothing, just…I thought it was gone.  I thought I’d finally lost something, that’s all.

Young man: Do you need some water or anything?

Old man:      No, I’m fine.  Please, forget it.

[The old man composes himself as the other door opens, stage left.  The young man falls into the background out of the light. A young, male orderly walks in with a rolling cart.  He is wearing generic hospital clothes, nothing authoritative. On the cart lies a tray of little white paper cups.  The orderly is on a cell phone in the middle of a call, looking absently in the direction of the door.]

Orderly:        [To the phone] …because I told you, she’s just a friend.  Okay. Okay. Can I…can I say something? I can’t control what someone texts me or not.  Maybe it was an accident. Maybe she meant to send it to someone else…..Well okay, I’m just saying, stop assuming and maybe we can figure this out, you know?

[The old man looks visibly annoyed as the orderly carelessly hands him one of the paper cups almost dropping it.  The orderly turns to continue the call and the old man quickly hides the pills in the pocket of his robe.]

Orderly:        Alright listen.  I’m at work; I can’t be doing this…’cause I’m at work.  Listen, I’ll call you soon as I get out, alright. I love you baby.  Alright. Bye.

[The orderly hangs up and pockets the phone. He walks back, takes the empty cup from the old man and looks at him suspiciously for a moment.]

Orderly:        Hey listen man; keep that between us, alright.  I don’t need any problems. [The old man softly throws his arms up as if to say, Don’t know what you’re talking about.]  Alright, good.  [taps the puzzle box]  And this is supposed to stay in the community room.

Old man:      [pleading] What for?  They have no use for it; they’d just stare at the box all day.

Orderly:        [makes a motion to take the puzzle] Doesn’t matter, you know the rules-

Old man:      [put his hands up to stop him] Alright, alright, listen, I’ll make a deal with you.  You don’t say nothin’ about this; I keep my mouth shut about that. [points at the orderly’s pocket where the phone is]

[The orderly takes a moment and nods his head to agree.]

Orderly:        Alright man, we’re straight.  Just make sure you clean this up before the shift change in the morning.

[The orderly leaves the room and the young man walks back to the table.  He sits down and looks at the puzzle. After a moment, he looks at the old man.]

Young man:    Can I ask you something personal?  [The old man looks up and nods.]  Do you think you ever really loved her?  Your mother, I mean.

[The old man pauses a moment before answering, bothered by the question.]

Old man:      I think so.  Yes, of course I did, she was my mother.  It’s funny how the mind works, you mostly remember the bad.  I think there were some good times too…I don’t know, it’s difficult now.  The line between the good and the bad blurs; I don’t really remember it all.  I do remember giving her space whenever I could. Hiding, I guess. I needed to.  I hid to survive, to find some kind of peace. When you associate love with fear, it’s necessary to distance yourself from the ones you’re close to.  Not just from her, but from all of them.

Young man: Is that what happened with Nancy and the kids?

Old man:      [confused] Nancy…who…?  [The old man’s look of confusion lasts for a moment and then changes to a brief look of relief, followed by a somber, sad look.]  Oh god…Nance.  Nancy. My wife…[He looks up at the young man, his expression changes to an angrier one.]  Right…well, I suppose I know you too.  It’s the beard…Nance, she hated that beard.

Young man: Yes, that she does.  [The both rub their jaws at the same time]

Old man:      Just try to be patient with her.  She can be a bitter pill sometimes, but be patient.  Jesus, why am I even wasting my breath, I already know you won’t.

[The old man rests his arms on the table and the young man does the exact same.  They look at each other in silence for a moment.]

Old man:      [shifts uneasily] Well…what uh…What do you want?

Young man: Me? Not much.  I’m just here as a reminder.  What do you want?

Old man:      [looks at him seriously] You already know what I want, and I certainly don’t need a reminder of anything.  If I choose to forget, what business is it of yours? You’ll be gone soon enough anyways!  I don’t need to remember, I shouldn’t have to.

Young man: See, that’s where you’re wrong.  I think you should remember it all.  It’s not too late-

Old man:      [anxiously] I think you should go now-

Young man: It’s not too late and I’m not going anywhere.  Not until you admit to yourself that you’re making a mistake.  You don’t need to do this, you shouldn’t be doing this. You’ve been hiding too long.  Enough is enough.

Old man:      [Not looking at the young man, he begins muttering] It’s not enough.  That’s the problem, it was never enough.  Not for me, not for her or for the kids, it was never enough.  I did what I could, I guess.

Young man:  No you didn’t. You didn’t even try.  You did what you knew how to do best - you hid.  You hid from your family; you hid from your life.  You pushed your wife away until you were a stranger to her, were you really that surprised?  You were a coward!

[The old man rises from the chair, angrily.]

Old man:      [yelling] What do you know about it, huh?!  You want to judge me? You know nothing yet!  You’re still in the thick of it, right before the real bad; you still have choices to make.  And you’ll make ‘em, most of them wrong, that’s where your life is headed. What do I have? A head full of bad memories that never stop.  I was a coward and I’m reminded every day.  I’m alone every day. (Pause as the old man sits down) All I want is a rest, alright?.  Some peace of mind near the end. After a miserable life, I really am losing them.  I’m losing them and I’m glad of it.

[The door at stage right opens; a dim orange light can be seen.  Two children, a boy and a girl, walk out and stand silently, looking at the old man. The old man looks at them, tears forming.]

Old man:      [Voice cracking] When you get here, when you’re in my place, you’ll want to lose them too.

[He starts to cry.  As he talks, his speech becomes faster and more animated as the memories slowly come back to him.]

Old man:      I loved my kids…I loved them the only way I knew how.  You think I didn’t try? Ho, I tried…for years! I tried to be the father they needed; to be the husband she wanted.  It wasn’t enough. It was never enough and it made me angry all the time. I would yell, all the time. It got so bad that I…one time John, my youngest, took a wooden block from one of my puzzles to play with and when I found out (pause)… I hit him.  Oh god, I did it.  I’d never raised a hand to him before that but something just snapped.  He was an eight year old boy, my boy, just wanted to be like his dad and I hit him in the stomach for it.  Took the wind right out of him before I knew what I was doing.

[He leans back in the chair, defeated. He turns and watches as the kids leave the room.  His speech slows as he speaks, the words pain him.]

Old man:      It wasn’t long after that; the kids never looked at me the same.  They were (pause) they were afraid of me.  Nance didn’t want me in the house anymore; I’d expected it sooner or later.  The break was messy and she did everything she could to keep the kids away. I didn’t beat them, no, but it made no difference.  When they were with me, they were shut off, like they wanted to be anywhere else. I’d lose my patience and start yelling at them. All the time, yelling at them.  It just made them hate me more and I…I felt the same way.

[He sits forward and puts his head in his hands.]

Old man:      My daughter showed up one day.  She told me…my son. He’d been acting out a while and turned to drugs, I guess. He was in a real bad way.  She told me I should act like a man and talk to him. She sounded so much like her mother, I couldn’t help it.  I shouted at her; told her to leave and never come back.

[After a moment, he looks up at the young man.]

Old man:      [voice drops, slow and anguished] He died.  He was only eighteen years old, still a baby, my boy, choked on his own vomit in his sleep. (pause) My um…my daughter hasn’t talked to me since; I don’t even know what she looks like anymore.  I think…I think she has kids of her own now.

[The old man leans over the puzzle, pushing around the pieces.]

Old man:      If I can let them go, if I can just lose it all, I might find peace.  A little more leaves me every day and I can feel the load getting lighter.  I am so close, closer than I’ve ever been, it’s like I could almost reach out and grab it.  If I need to lose myself, so be it.

Young man: Is that the answer then?  Is that your solution? Take away more and more until there’s nothing left?  You’re not solving the puzzle, you’re giving up!

[The old man looks up sharply and raises his voice.]

Old man:      [Irritated] I don’t want to solve it; I want to be rid of it!  I want it gone. I want them all gone!

[The old man throws the puzzle to the ground, scattering pieces all over the floor.  He looks at the young man for a moment. The young man sighs and begins to pick them up. After a 5 second pause, he begins to speak again]

Young man: For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.  I could have tried harder. I could have-

Old man:      Yes, you could have…but you don’t, and you won’t know why yet.  Not for many years, so don’t look to me to free you. You’ll make your choices, and you’ll stand by them like the fool that you are.

[The young man finishes picking up pieces and, still crouching, looks at the old man.]

Young man: You’re not dead yet.  You could try to hold onto them, I know how hard it is, believe me.  I know what goes along with it. But it’s not over.

Old man:      No, it’s not…[pause]  Not yet, but I need it to be.  I’ve lived too long for happiness and I’ve stopped looking. It’s not in the cards for me.  So I’m here - forgotten and alone, with just my memories to keep me company. And when you’re in my place, you’ll mostly remember the bad too. That’s how this mind works.  I’ve held onto you, to that time, right before the real bad. But I can’t anymore, it’s too painful. If I try, if I can lose it all, I might get a clean slate before the end.

[The young man stands and places the pieces back on the table.  The old man leans back again, puts a hand over his eyes. The young man slowly slides a single puzzle piece off of the table and puts it in his pocket.  After a moment, he walks to the door at stage right and opens it. A dim orange light can be seen. Before leaving, he turns and faces the old man.]

Young man: I’ll be back tomorrow.

Old man:      [sorrowful] God, I hope not.

Young man: You say that now.  But someday, maybe I won’t be here anymore.  There won’t be any more pieces to take and you’ll be stuck staring at the box all day.

[The old man lifts his head and turns to face the young man.  He pauses for a moment, absorbing what was just said.]

Old man:      [slowly nodding] Maybe.  Maybe peace of mind can only exist in an empty mind.  If that’s the case, then I’ll accept it…but I can still try.  Now please, let me be for today, I need to get back to my puzzle.  Have to keep the mind sharp.

[The young man exits and the old man turns to face his puzzle.  Curtains close.]