photo by Joe Mazza and Brave Lux

Monday, March 11, 2013

Mom's Orchard

             Mom’s Orchard
            By Jacob Juntunen
Characters:
SYLVIA: A woman.
ANNA: A younger woman.
TINA: A young woman near Anna’s age.

Set:
Two or three blocks on stage; ones an actor can easily step up and down from.
(SYLVIA, ANNA, and TINA all enter, ANNA carrying a beat-up plastic tub and an envelope.)
            TINA
This is the best box you could find?
            ANNA
It will hold them, won’t it?
(TINA, very slowly, starts getting up on the blocks, gathering unseen objects, and putting them in the box. She moves deliberately, in slow-motion from block to block, getting up and down.)
            ANNA (cont)
(to SYLVIA)
I don’t see why we have to do this outside. Your library would have been fine.
(holding out envelope)
You just need to sign this.
            SYLVIA
The sun is out, the decorations are still up from the Fourth of July, the cherries are ripe—
            ANNA
The orchard isn’t as convenient as your library would have been. We could have looked at your finances if we were at your desk— Do you need a pen? I brought one out here.
            SYLVIA
I want you to see what you’re giving up. Look at them. Practically bursting, transforming sunlight into sweetness. You get up there, pick them, stain your hands red—
            ANNA
We need to talk about how you’re going to survive—
            SYLVIA
Oh, honey. I’m not. That’s the whole point. But these trees will—
            ANNA
You’re going to survive, maybe a year the doctor said, with treatment, and that’s why we—
            SYLVIA
Fat green leaves, bushels and bushels of sweet bings, with just enough sour to make a few pies. And you want me to sell?
(TINA enters the scene in normal speed)
            TINA
I’m not going to be able to reach the top ones.
            ANNA
(to TINA)
That’s okay, just get the ones you can.
(TINA returns to her slow-motion gathering)
            ANNA (cont)
(to SYLVIA)
This is serious, Mom. I don’t have the money to take care of the medical bills when you start to deteriorate.
            SYLVIA
Luckily, Oregon has the Death with Dignity act.
            ANNA
You’re not committing suicide.           
            SYLVIA
I’ve already found a doctor who will help me go. Honey. There is cancer in my bones. We’re not wasting money to make me ill and buy me a few months. You’ll inherit this orchard.
            ANNA
I want you. For as long as you have. So you will sell these trees to Oregon Cherries—
            SYLVIA
Those horrible canned… things… will never come from my orchard. Unless you sell it after I’m gone.
            ANNA
The orchard never made any money, and they’re offering a good price—
            SYLVIA
My orchard doesn’t lose money either. We break even between the farmer’s markets and the roadside stand. It just needs someone to run it after I’m gone.
            ANNA
I finally got my own column in the Oregonian, head food critic, getting to try all the nouvelle cuisine that Portland has to offer—
            SYLVIA
From food writer to organic cherry farmer. That seems right to me.
            ANNA
Just because you gave up tenure after Dad died to become a hermit out here—
            SYLVIA
You were with me. You liked it well enough when you were a kid.
(TINA enters the scene in normal speed)
            TINA
They’re pretty dirty.
            ANNA
(to TINA)
We’ll wash them before we sell them.
(TINA returns to her slow-motion gathering)
            ANNA (cont)
(to SYLVIA)
I liked climbing the trees. I liked how my hair turned blonde in the summer. I liked how the dog would eat the low-lying fruit, how I could help him up to the first knot in that big trunk over there. How we’d sit in the tree and eat together, me spitting out the pits, him crunching away.
            SYLVIA
We have some good pictures of you and the dog in that tree. What a sight. Your Dad would have loved to see it.
            ANNA
And he would have wanted you to keep being a professor.
            SYLVIA
I needed something to make something more substantial than words for your father.
            ANNA
But you never got rid of your books!
            SYLVIA
And they’re yours, too, once I’m gone. Unless you just sell my library off, too.
            ANNA
I’m not giving up my career to live out here like you did, never moving on, never letting go—
            SYLVIA
You don’t let go of someone you really love.
            ANNA
It could go into remission. You never know.
            SYLVIA
The doctor says there’s no chance.
            ANNA
There’s always a chance.
            SYLVIA
Well, I’ve made my final wishes clear. I won’t sign that, but I know as soon as I’m gone Oregon Cherry will make the same offer to you. I know they’ll want to take everything I worked for, my entire life, process it in corn syrup—
            ANNA
They can their cherries in water, with no preservatives or—
            SYLVIA
Do you eat canned cherries?
            ANNA
I can’t eat any cherries that I don’t pick myself.
(TINA enters the scene in normal speed; from now until the end of the play, everyone will move at a realism pace)
            TINA
(to ANNA)
Sorry, I didn’t hear you.
            ANNA
(to TINA re: the envelope)
I was just thinking about this offer.
            TINA
The lawyer said it’s a good offer.
            ANNA
Yeah. It is.
            SYLVIA
You need to put down roots and stay right here, like I did.
            TINA
You’re not having second thoughts, are you? I’ve just about got your mom’s library all packed.
            SYLVIA
I put all my love for your father into these trees, and now it’s time for you to carry it forward.
            ANNA
(to TINA)
Sorry I didn’t help you pack. I didn’t how hard it would be to be in her library. It still smells like her.
            TINA
She died with dignity, you know. My Mom went through chemo, it was awful. She was sick all the time, and it didn’t help a damn bit. Your mom did the right thing.
            SYLVIA
If you ever loved me, just tear up that offer!
(ANNA pulls the paper out of the envelope. She looks at it. She puts it back in the envelope.)
            ANNA
Okay. Let’s pack up the rest of the books.
Blackout.

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