Copyright by the Author. All Rights Reserved.
[Lights up -- the nursery of a city hospital. The audience is where the babies would be. The actors are on the other side of the "glass" Daphne is already on stage peering out at the audience happily cooing and making faces at the "babies, which she obviously enjoys very much. She grows progressively sillier and more elaborate as we watch -- even producing props from her purse, pockets, or nearby tables.
At the height of her enjoyment Bob enters. Approximately the same age as Daphne, Bob is obviously in a very dark mood. He stares blankly at the babies, seemingly oblivious to Daphne's continued antics. Daphne, sensing Bob's depression, begins, subtly at first, to include him -- pointing him out to the babies, making grouchy faces, trying in vain to improve his mood. Slowly her efforts lose steam, though she's hesitant to give up, until a long, mournful sigh from Bob convinces her to stop. There is a brief silence.]
Daphne: [a bit hesitant] Are you alright? [Silence. Bob continues to stare ahead] Sir? [growing more concerned. Agonizing over whether to help or leave him alone, she softly touches his elbow. He looks at her and she quickly pulls her hand back] I'm sorry...Are you alright? You look...
Bob: Yeah. [he looks at the babies, senses she's not convinced, turns back] I'm fine. [flashes an unconvincing smile and turns back towards the babies]
Daphne: [playing along] Oh...ok...well, good. [Uncomfortable with the silence, but not wanting to leave, she decides to fill it] I love babies. I come here almost every day to look at them. I work right across the street. At that little diner. By the time lunch break rolls around I'm so tired of all that food I just don't even want to think about eating, so I come over here and look at them. [one of the babies does something irresistably cute that catches her eye] Ahhhhhh! Look at him! [laughing, rattling a box of tic tacs, and talking to the baby] Hellooooo. Hello in there.
Bob: [Watching her this time. More incredulous than angry or annoyed] Are you always this cheerful? [She pauses, uncertain how to react] I mean you just keep babbling at them like...
Daphne: They're cute! Don't you think they're cute?
[Bob considers the babies for a moment, shrugs as if to say "sure, if you say so", turns and sits in a nearby chair. Daphne hesitates a moment, then half-heartedly resumes playing with the babies. She senses Bob watching her, senses his depression, finally decides to approach him again. She timidly approaches, turns away, approaches again. Finally she sits in a chair near him and begins replacing the various items from her purse that she had been using to amuse the babies. One of the items is a pack of gum, sensing a possible conversation starter, she offers some to him]
Daphne: Gum?
Bob: No, thanks.
Daphne: It's Juicy Fruit. [Bob shakes his head "no"] I think I have some spearmint in here somewhere. [digging in her purse] They're not sugarless. My mom wouldn't approve. [she produces several fistfulls of gums and candies from her purse--lifesavers, breathmints, candy bars that have been partially eaten--and offers them to him collectively]
Bob: No. Really...
Daphne: It's alright, really, I've got plenty. [She sees that he isn't going to take any, takes another bite from one of the partially eaten candy bars, covers the exposed end with the wrapper, and stuffs it back into her purse. The candy bar is chewy, and she continues speaking with her mouth full] I've got kind of a sweet tooth. A whole mouth full of them actually. [she laughs at her own joke-stops when he doesn't join her. Pause] My mom always used to say that all you have to do to chase away the blues is look at a sunset...or a flower.
[pause]
The beauty of God's creation.
[pause] Then she'd down another fifth of vodka and pass out on the couch. [She laughs again. Bob stands and walks downstage closer to the babies. Daphne watches him] It's a valid concept, though, when you think about it...the sunset, not the vodka. Although, I suppose...
Bob: My wife died today. [silence] In childbirth... She and the baby both.
Daphne: [softly] Oh, my...Oh my God, I'm...Really? I mean...I'm sorry. [pause. Bob turns to look at her, sees the expression on her face and bursts out laughing. Daphne watches for a moment, frozen in confusion] What?
Bob: [Laughs even more hysterically at this reaction] I'm sorry. [still laughing] You just kept yammering.
Daphne: You were joking?
Bob: [Another hysterical outburst of laughter. He nods his head, wiping tears from his eyes] I'm not even married! [still more laughter]
Daphne: That was...HORRIBLE!
Bob: [laughter finally dying down a bit] Oh, come on.
Daphne: How COULD you...
Bob: [As if to say "what did I do?"] What? [Daphne stands and moves downstage on the opposite side of the stage from Bob, digs into her purse, pulls out a candy bar, takes a bite] What? It was a joke! [She turns away] Come on! If you could have seen the look on your face. [He bursts into laughter again at the thought of it] I'm Bob, by the way. [He reaches out as if to shake hands. Daphne pulls away and swallows the candy she's been chewing]
Daphne: I have to go now, Bob. [She turns to leave, Bob moves with her, inadvertantly blocking her path to the door]
Bob: What? Come on! What? It was a joke!
Daphne: I really have to go.
Bob: Oh, come on. Sit down. It was a joke. I was making conversation.
Daphne: CONVERSATION!
Bob: Yeah!
Daphne: THAT is NOT "making conversation"! THAT was...sick!
Bob: Oh, please...come on! You were boring yourself with all that crap about babies and the "beauty of God's creation"! I mean the way you went for that candy...I just thought I should liven things up a little before your clothes started to get tight.
Daphne: Ok. Fine. Thank you for your...concern, but I really need to leave.
Bob: Oh, alright, I'm sorry, ok? I'm sorry. I may have been slightly...inappropriate in my choice of an icebreaker, but at least it got us talking. Right? Sit down. Please? Lunch break can't be over yet, you just got here. Sit down, we'll talk. [Daphne clutches her purse to her chest and looks around for another way out] You can look at the babies, and I'll sit way over here. [She looks at the babies--back at Bob] You know you want to. Look at them. Aren't they cute? [She looks at the babies, smiles] My sense of humor takes a little getting used to. Ever since I was a kid. Drove my teachers crazy.
Daphne: Well...
Bob: Sit down. Please. [She does, hesitantly, still clutching her purse to her chest as a shield] Great! Now I'll just sit way over here. [He does] No sudden moves. [He laughs]
Daphne: [polite smile-still wary] Well, I'm glad I could help you out of your mood.
Bob: Mood?
Daphne: When you came in, you seemed so...
Bob: Oh, That. I can be sort of...bipolar at times, you know? It's nothing, really. I just get distracted. I think too much. You can loosen your grip on that purse if you want.
Daphne: My...what?
Bob: Your purse. The way you're clutching it...
Daphne: Oh! I was just...I'm sorry. I, um...
Bob: If you're not careful, you'll end up with a big, squishy lump of chocolate and juicy fruit. [She smiles a little in spite of herself] Relax. You're perfectly safe. I'm weird, not violent.
Daphne: Well... [She makes a conscious effort to relax, without much success]
Bob: There you go. [Long, uncomfortable pause]
Daphne: So...
Bob: So.
Daphne: Um...Where are you from, Bob?
Bob: Here.
Daphne: Oh.
Bob: Well, not here. I mean I'm not from this hospital. [Nervous laugh. Daphne nods politely. Small pause] I just meant here in town. This area.
Daphne: Right. [She's been glancing at the babies occasionally since sitting, now one of them catches her eye. She turns in her seat to get a better view]
Bob: [Sensing that he's losing her] I've been in that diner. The one you work at. I see you in there sometimes.
Daphne: [Turning back] Really?
Bob: You probably don't remember me.
Daphne: Well, I...
Bob: No, no, I understand. A lot of people in and out. It's a busy place. [She nods] Yeah. [pause]
You're cheerful there, too. I've noticed. I mean, you have to be, right? You're grouchy, you don't get tips, you get fired, but with you it's different. It's like you enjoy it or something. I've noticed. It's nice. [She smiles-small pause] I mean it can get on your nerves after a while...but it's nice. It's... I was in there one time, I remember, and there was this guy, a real asshole, he's wearing this flourescent, plaid sport coat. [She laughs] You remember! What a jerk!
Daphne: Well...
Bob: I mean, he actually... [Bob recreates a lacivious grab--not actually doing it, but miming it from where he is sitting]
Daphne: [Laughing] I think he'd been drinking.
Bob: I would have emptied the coffee pot in his lap.
Daphne: No.
Bob: Or smashed him with a ketchup bottle.
Daphne: [Still laughing] He didn't mean anything.
Bob: See? That's what I mean. Always cheerful. Always...up. Like with the babies before. [She smiles and looks at the babies again. One of them catches her eye, and she can't resist a little wave with her index finger. Bob watches and shakes his head] Years from now they'll probably all be in therapy. [She looks at him] Recurring dreams of a huge lady rattling tic tacs in their face. [He sees her reaction--quickly] But it's nice, you know? I mean... That didn't come out the way I...I just meant, I couldn't do it. What you do. Be cheerful all the time.
Daphne: Why not? [pause]
Bob: [As if he didn't hear the question] So, where are you from, Daphne?
Daphne: [Surprised, slightly wary] You know my name? [Bob points to the name tag on her chest. She's still dressed for work] Oh! Oh, of course. [Laughing] I'm sorry. I just...
Bob: Where are you from?
Daphne: Oh, uh, I'm from Nebraska.
Bob: Oh!
Daphne: A small town.
Bob: Well. That explains it.
Daphne: What?
Bob: That explains everything.
Daphne: What?
Bob: Nebraska. Wow. I bet they're all like you in Nebraska. Happy, smiling...riding horses, milking cows.
Daphne: I've never been on a horse in my life.
Bob: Uh huh.
Daphne: And I've never touched a cow.
Bob: Sure, sure, I believe you. [small pause -- smiling]
Daphne: You've never been to Nebraska, have you?
Bob: No. But I've read about it.
Daphne: You've read about it?
Bob: Yeah.
Daphne: Where?
Bob: Stephen King. "Children of the Corn".
Daphne: Oh, God!
Bob: And "The Stand"...that old black lady that talked to God. She was from Nebraska.
Daphne: You know nothing about Nebraska.
Bob: Well...maybe [he smiles. After a moment she smiles back. small pause]
Daphne: Besides, if you went by those books, you'd expect everyone in Nebraska to be like you.
Bob: Like me?
Daphne: Yes.
Bob: What do you mean?
Daphne: [slight pause--unsure if she's insulted him or if he's kidding] I don't know.
Bob: You don't know?
Daphne: I mean...I don't know...like you.
Bob: Like what?
Daphne: Like...you. I don't know.
Bob: What am I like?
Daphne: Nothing.
Bob: No, really, I want to know.
Daphne: It's...nothing. I'm sorry. I didn't mean anything. You're just...dark, you know [very uncomfortable, struggling for words that won't insult him] somber...spooky.
Bob: Spooky?
Daphne: I mean...
Bob: Spooky?
Daphne: I'm sorry...
Bob: What do you mean, "spooky"?
Daphne: Nothing, I... [throughout the following lines, Daphne becomes increasingly anxious and uncomfortable]
Bob: And somber? What's somber?
Daphne: I don't even know you...
Bob: What kind of word is "Somber"?
Daphne: I'm sorry, I just...
Bob: Calling a guy "spooky" and "somber"
Daphne: LOOK! YOU ASKED! [silence--Daphne dives into her purse for a candy bar--takes a bite] I mean...look, I'm sorry if I insulted you. [pause]
Bob: Spooky...
Daphne: I'M SORRY! [pause--another bite] What are you doing here, anyway? Why are you bothering me?
Bob: Bothering you?
Daphne: You know what I mean.
Bob: I didn't know I was bothering you.
Daphne: I was having a perfectly good time, and then you come in here...
Bob: [Overlapping slightly--interrupting] I'm visiting someone. [Small pause]
Daphne: Oh, right, your dead wife and child. I'm so sorry.
Bob: I'm visiting my father.
Daphne: [not believing him] Your father.
Bob: He's...not doing well. I thought, maybe if I came down here, maybe the kids would cheer me up or something.
Daphne: Uh huh.
Bob: Look, I'm sorry I said that before, about my wife and kid, it's just...well, I knew you were going to ask, sooner or later, why I was here, and I didn't want to talk about it. Ok?
Daphne: [Chewing. Still skeptical, but what if he's telling the truth?] What's he got? [pause--Bob gets up and looks at the babies] I'm sorry. You don't want to talk about it. [Stuffing candy back into her purse] I'll just...
Bob: He shot himself. [Silence] I found him this morning. [Long pause--Daphne stares motionless at Bob, swallows the candy she's been chewing. Bob stares ahead, expressionless]
Daphne: Oh, Bob... I... Um, you probably want to be alone. [Gathers her things. Stands. Turns to go]
Bob: [When she's almost out the door] He left a note. [she stops. turns, not knowing whether to go or stay] They always do that in books, you know. In movies. They always have some big message...something meaningful. You wanna know what his said?
Daphne: Oh, no. I mean, unless you... if it would help to talk about it.
Bob: It said, "Bobby, you're the man of the family now. Take care of mother, and always remember [pause] people from Nebraska will believe anything you tell them." [pause]
Daphne: No. [Bob turns and smiles at her] Oh, no. [Bob bursts out in laughter. Daphne is visibly shaken and enraged] You are SICK!
Bob: Oh, come on!
Daphne: YOU!
Bob: You wanted spooky.
Daphne: I did not WANT spooky!
Bob: [Still laughing] Look, I'm sorry. [She turns away] I'm sorry! I couldn't resist. It was a joke.
Daphne: How could you say something like that? About your father?
Bob: It was a joke! What? What's the big deal? You never told a joke about you father? Come on. [She turns to face him]
Daphne: You want to hear a joke about my father? One night, when I was twelve years old, my father decided to decorate the house for christmas. He'd never done it before, but this year he had just gotten a raise at work, and I guess he wanted to show off to the rest of the neighborhood. So about a week before christmas, dad went out and bought up all of the lights and decorations he could find. It had all been pretty much picked over by then, There wasn't much left, but he still got a lot. One store owner was so glad to get rid of everything so close to christmas, that he threw in an old mannequin and santa costume that had been cluttering up his store room. Dad brought it home and built his whole display around it. [pause--smiles at the memory of it]
We didn't have a big brick chimney like you see in books and movies, so instead of that, he put santa on the roof of the porch, peering into the window of my parents' bedroom. Around all of the windows, he put red lights. Green lights around the edge of the roof. And combinations of the two all criss-crossed up and down and in all of the bushes and trees...It was beautiful.
I remember it was really cold that year, so he did all this with these great big boots and gloves...a huge coat that he had just bought with the money from his raise, and I couldn't imagine how, with all those heavy clothes on, he could climb up that ladder and hang all those lights, but he did. He hung all of them, and in between each string of lights, he would come down the ladder, pick me up off the ground, spin me around, and sit me up on his shoulders to get a better look. It took almost a week to finish it, to get it just the way he wanted it, but when he finally lit it all up, the whole town came out to see it. Everyone! Cars driving around the block over and over again just to look at our house. I was so happy. I was sure that this was going to be the best christmas in the history of christmases; living in this... cocoon of color and light, with the rest of the world lining up outside to admire it. On christmas eve, dad went downtown to this bar that he used to hang out in. He liked to spend christmas eve with his buddies, because, on christmas, all the aunts and uncles would be over, and I guess being hungover gave him an excuse not to be a good host.
[Small pause] So, anyway, by the time he got home, it was way past midnight, mom and I were in bed, and mom had turned out all the christmas lights for the night--she couldn't sleep when they were on, because they would shine in through her window--so the only light was from the street light at the end of the block, and, I guess, in the darkness, after drinking all night, dad forgot about the Santa mannequin... mistook it for a burgler or something because I woke up to hear shouting out on the lawn... gunshots... breaking glass. I ran into mom and dad's room, because I didn't know what was happening, but mom and dad weren't in bed. And it was cold, like someone had left the window open, so I looked...and there was my mother, just lying there on the floor, in the middle of all this shattered glass and blood. She must have been standing at the window when...
[Pause--Bob is frozen. Daphne stands staring into space--reliving the story as she tells it]
...and I just stood there....I couldn't move. I couldn't say anything. I was still half asleep. It was like a dream. But then I heard the front door open, and footsteps running up the stairs. I was terrified. I thought that whoever had been shouting out on the lawn must be coming to get me now, and I couldn't hide. There was no place to hide. And the only thing I could think of to do was lay down beside my mother and play dead. I thought whoever it was wouldn't hurt me if they thought I was already dead. So, when dad got to the door of the bedroom, he saw me and my mother and all that blood, and...he said... something... it didn't register at first, I was so scared, and concentrating so hard on not moving...and then he stumbled backwards out of the room, and I heard him crying and saying, "no, no, no,"...over and over again..."no, no..." [pause] and I recognized his voice. I realized it was dad. But before I could say anything there was another gunshot.
[pause]
And then he wasn't crying anymore.
[pause]
Bob: God...
Daphne: I guess he didn't have time to leave a funny note like your dad.
Bob: Oh, God I'm...I'm so sorry.
Daphne: Well, thank you, Bob, but right now I just really would like to be alone with the babies if you don't mind.
Bob: No. No, of course. I'll just... um... [He turns, begins to exit. Stops at the door, turns back, can't think of anything to say. Exits.]
Daphne: [Doesn't watch him go, but stares ahead at the babies instead. When she hears that he has finally left, she steps closer to the babies, stands expressionless for a moment or two longer, then smiles at something one of the babies has done. She steps a little closer, focusing on that baby. She laughs, and waves with her index finger] Hello. Hello in there. Ahhhhhhhh! [Laughs again-still speaking to the baby] Try and ruin my day, will he? Well, that'll teach him. Yes it will. That'll teach him, won't it. [She continues to coo, wave, and ad-lib to the babies, producing props again from her purse, as the lights slowly fade to black]
The End
A note from the playwright:
Though it would seem to be the easy assumption to make (and EVERYONE seems to make it), I think it's much more interesting if Daphne's story *isn't* just a joke. In other words, her story is true, but she still uses it to get back at Bob for what he's done to her. The original inspiration for the piece was my belief that people who are always extremely cheerful and "up" all the time are often the most screwed up people you could ever meet. I think Daphne is the most "disturbed" person in this play, not Bob.
That being said, I still leave it completely up to the director and/or performer to decide on whether her story is true or not. Either way, though, the audience and Bob must believe every moment of it. My goal was for the audience to leave the performance still wondering whether or not she (or Bob, for that matter) was actually lying. Whether or not YOU believe Daphne's story, the audience should still be wondering when they leave your performance.
Mail me.