Scene 1
Spot light illuminates an adolescent male sitting
in a chair downstage center. The boy, MATT, sits
with his legs apart while he looks down and wrings
his hands. Neither his appearance nor his clothes
are particularly notable. In fact, if he weren’t
under a spotlight, he would be easily overlooked.
There is plenty of space behind him. All the
actions that occur behind MATT throughout the
scene represent images in his head (memories or
ideas). As he speaks, the actions correspond and
illustrate what he is saying, but MATT doesn’t
address or interact with the characters behind him
until the end.
Although MATT does seem slightly nervous or
uncomfortable, after he looks at his hands for a
while it becomes clear that wringing his hands is
more than a nervous tick. He obsessively flexes
and examines them. He brings them closer and
farther away from his face. He focuses on one
nail, stares at it, then pulls a nailclipper from
his back pocket. He tries to snip at it, but it is
already cut short, as are all his other nails. He
puts the nailclippers back in his pocket and
speaks without taking his eyes from his hands.
MATT
My father and I have the same hands.
Lights up on the space behind MATT. A man stands
stage right who appears to be older than thirty,
although it is not clear how much older he may be.
He is stage right now, but as MATT continues to
speak throughout the scene, the characters slowly
move to the left, so the final pose is struck
stage left. The man currently standing is MATT’S
FATHER. He wears a uniform from a blue-collar job
with the sleeves rolled up. He has broad shoulders
and a wide head. He has a seemingly-perpetually
grumpy face and in many ways bears the likeness of
a pitbull. His hands are dirty, and he stands
proud, yet with a slight slouch.
MATT (CON’T)
Thick fingers. Broad palms. Hard knuckles. Masculine.
Strong.
MATT’S FATHER pulls a rag from his pocket and
wipes off his hands.
MATT (CON’T)
My mom used to call him "pickle fingers."
Enter MATT’S MOTHER, feminine and small. She goes
to MATT’S FATHER, takes his hands, and plays with
his fingers.
MATT (CON’T)
She’d joke that at their wedding they had to use grease
to get his ring on. When I was little I remember them
holding hands constantly. His hands were big, but they
were like a cradle to her little, soft fingers. And, of
course, my little paws used to fit in his, too.
Enter YOUNG MATT, five or six years old. MATT’S
FATHER bends down on one knee and picks him up.
Then all three look out to the audience and seem
to make a perfect family portrait.
MATT (CON’T)
As I got older, my little paws became identical to his
big ones. I got the same gorilla-like fists as him. I
was proud of them. They made me feel like a man.
MATT’S MOTHER and YOUNG MATT exit. Then MATT’s
expression goes from fond and sentimental to
disturbed and troubled.
MATT (CON’T)
The only...real difference between my father’s hands
and my own, was that he always had these long
fingernails. I don’t think I ever saw him cut his
nails. They were these jagged and broken surfaces on
every one of his fingers. He used to come home from
work with dirt and grease under them. Once he told me
that if he tried to cut them, he’d break the nail
clippers.
MATT pauses and collects his thoughts.
MATT (CON’T)
Really, I think the reason he kept the long nails was
because they came in handy...
MATT’S FATHER pulls out a bottle of booze and
begins to swallow. His steps gain more and more of
a stagger. He hunches over and messes his hair.
MATT (CON’T)
...when it was late. And he’d had too much to drink.
Enter MATT’S MOTHER. She looks weary. The parents
begin to argue.
MATT (CON’T)
And he got mad.
MATT’S FATHER
SHUT UP.
MATT’S FATHER swings his hand at MATT’S MOTHER.
She gasps and holds her face.
MATT
I noticed the scratches on my mom’s face. She didn’t
talk about it much though. Never to me.
MATT’S MOTHER exits.
MATT (CON’T)
My dad never swiped at me. But it would hurt when he
held my arm...and he’d let his nails sink in.
MATT holds his arm and grimaces. MATT’S FATHER
continues to drink.
MATT (CON’T) (progressively more paranoid and crazy)
For years, I’ve had to cut my nails...every day. Long
nails on anyone scare me. I used to shy away from the
manicured nails of my teachers at school. Girls with
their french tips would horrify me. A friend of mine
got lazy with clipping his nails one time and I-I
remember it, so. Clearly. I couldn’t be in the room
with him. I c-couldn’t see his nails. I couldn’t do it.
I had to shove him away and run home. I got in a lot of
trouble at school because I would leave class too much.
But it was just because I didn’t want every one to see
me freak out. I would just go to the bathroom and
breathe for a while. I’d try to think about other stuff
like cars and machines and how stuff worked and it
would get my mind off everything. But by the time I
collected myself, class would be almost over. I would
come back in and get all sorts of weird looks. I hated
it. After a while I just stopped going to class. My mom
started getting calls around the same time that she
started to notice how often I was cutting my nails. I
guess she just realized how disturbed I was and it
scared her.
MATT’S MOTHER enters and approaches MATT’S FATHER.
MATT’S MOTHER (To MATT’S FATHER, strong and unafraid)
We’re leaving. Matt’s in the car. Everything is packed.
We can only put up with so much.
MATT’S FATHER
Helen. Helen, you can’t do this to me.
MATT’S MOTHER leaves quickly.
MATT’S FATHER (CON’T)
YOU CAN’T DO THIS, HELEN. YOU CAN’T DO THIS TO MATT.
YOU SELFISH B***H! YOU’RE A SELFISH B***H!
MATT
We left about five years ago. I didn’t talk to my dad
much while we were gone. There were some nights when I
would think too much...wish he was there. But I just
had to remind myself that my mom made the right
decision. She used to remind me that being family is a
privelege, not a right. My dad lost this privelege. He
ran out of chances.
Behind MATT, his father has knelt down on his
haunches and covered his face, clearly troubled.
MATT (CON’T)
My grandma told me that when we left, my dad started to
really understand how serious the situation was. He
started to try to get help. He went beyond just AA
meetings. He actually stayed at a live-in rehab
facility.
MATT’S FATHER drops a bottle on the ground.
MATT (CON’T)
He was never a bad guy. He was just plagued by this
disease; once he started drinking he couldn’t stop. The
stuff he did drunk, hurting my mom, he would have never
even dreamed of doing that sober! It’s not who he was.
But the booze that-that poison. It messed him up.
MATT’S FATHER stands and looks down at the bottle
disdainfully.
MATT (CON’T)
After not talking to him for years, I had to know if it
was true that he was changing. I knew that if he could
just stop drinking, he’d be okay. He’d be my dad again.
I so desperately wanted to believe he was better. I
told my mom and learned that she wanted to see him too.
Five years apart is a long time. It’s a long time to
not see or talk to your dad. Any time not talking to
your father is too long. MATT’S MOTHER enters and walk slowly toward MATT’S
FATHER with her head down. She looks old and
tired. MATT’S FATHER stares at her as she comes
toward him. When she reaches him he lifts his hand
to caress her face. She backs away and he looks
hurt.
MATT (CON’T)
When we went to see my dad, he looked different. He was
older in both appearance and demeanor. He moved more
slowly and spoke more quietly. He just looked...sad.
His hands shook a little when he was standing still.
MATT’S MOTHER
If I said that I forgive you, I’d be lying.
MATT’S FATHER begins to cry.
MATT
My mom was stern with him. But you could tell she was
melting more and more the longer she looked at him.
She’s always stronger than me. I melted the second we
walked in.
MATT’S MOTHER takes MATT’S FATHER’s hands.
MATT (CON’T)
I guess it doesn’t matter how long we were away from
him. I can stay away as long as I want, but he’ll
always be my dad.
MATT takes the nailclippers from his back pocket
as he stands. He looks at them, savors their size
and weight, then drops them on the chair.
MATT (CON’T)
I can cut my nails as much as I want.
MATT takes his father’s hand out of his mother’s
and holds on to it tightly with both hands.
MATT (CON’T)
But I’ll always have his hands.
MATT, his father, and his mother are all now
standing stage left. They strike the pose similar
to the one they struck in the beginning with the
three of them forming a perfect family portrait
and look out to the audience.
Black out.
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