photo by Joe Mazza and Brave Lux
Showing posts with label Short play. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Short play. Show all posts

Monday, October 31, 2011

Understanding

Understanding
by Jacob Juntunen

(VECTĒVS and BEN sit at a table with a piece of paper between them. An awkward moment. MADARA enters. VECTĒVS and MADARA wave.)

MADARA
(to BEN in accented English; italics have accent, regular font does not) You are the American?

BEN
Oh, um, yes, you are—?

MADARA
Only one who speak English in village. From waitressing in Riga summers. May I see photo please?

BEN
(holding out piece of paper) It’s just a photocopy. Do you know this woman?

MADARA
(no accent) Oh, she’s so young.

BEN
In English, please?

MADARA
(showing it to VECTĒVS who cradles it) I told you she didn’t die for nothing.

BEN
What are you saying?

MADARA
Here he is, come to thank us.

BEN
I’m sorry, I don’t speak Latvian.

MADARA
(accent again) You come all this way and learned none first?

BEN
(holding out guidebook) I have this phrasebook—

MADARA
(not taking guidebook) Yes, “Where is toilet?” Is nothing but tourist sentences.

BEN
My grandfather died of cancer last month. I found this photo cleaning his bedroom drawers. On the back it says, “This woman saved my life,” and then it has this address written on the back of it, so I came here, but this man—

MADARA
You ask him who she is?

BEN
He was dead; I never even saw the picture before—

MADARA
No, I mean you ask this man here, in this house, who she—

BEN
I showed him the picture and he cried a little. He said something, but I didn’t understand.

MADARA
It is his sister. If you spoke Latvian—

BEN
(holding out guidebook again) I tried to use the guidebook—

MADARA
(tossing guidebook on table) Useless.

BEN
I thought maybe whoever lives here might know how my grandfather survived the war—

MADARA
Did you ask your grandfather?

BEN
He was just American to me. Until he got sick I never thought—

MADARA
(to VECTĒVS; no accent) He never even talked about us.

BEN
I wish you would speak in English.

MADARA
You never thought of your grandfather in Latvia. So why would little gay Jew come all the way here now?

BEN
He never talked about Latvia until he was sick, then he talked about the forests and wanting to thank someone—

MADARA
So you come to thank?

BEN
For what?

MADARA
Go to Rumbula Forest. Go to synagogue in Riga. Find out what to thank. No one living in this house saved your grandfather.

BEN
But maybe you could help me speak to other villagers who might know—

MADARA
(no accent) Oh, I know. Everyone here knows, but you could never understand.

(VECTĒVS takes the photo, cradles it, and begins to softly cry.)

BEN
I don’t understand— Why’s he crying again?

MADARA
He’s crying because his sister was helping Jews leave our village and hide in the forest.

BEN
Please talk in English.

(VECTĒVS stands and takes a few steps towards the audience, reaching out to empty space)

MADARA
He’s crying because when they came, they said they would shoot his daughter if he didn’t point to who was helping the Jews.

(VECTĒVS points to empty space next to him, as if to someone kneeling on the ground)

BEN
Okay, I get it. I should have learned Latvian, but I came all this way—

MADARA
The Jews his sister saved have descendents. Like you.

BEN
You keep saying Jews. I know that word.

MADARA
His sister has no descendents. And you don’t even know the sacrifice. That’s why he cries.

BEN
Do you need money? Is that it?

MADARA
(with accent) An American always thinks big tip at the restaurant means he should get laid.

(VECTĒVS returns to the table)

BEN
He wants me to know. He tried to tell me. Ask him. Ask him if he wants me to understand—

MADARA
Your child and your sister kneel on ground, cold metal pressed against the back of heads. Who you point to?

BEN
His sister died?

MADARA
You must watch head explode of child or sister. Whose blood you clean off ground?

BEN
I don’t have a child.

(MADARA tears the picture in half)

MADARA
You lack imagination.

(MADARA leaves.)

BEN
Wait! Please!

(VECTĒVS picks up the two pieces of the picture of his sister. He puts them back together as best he can, gently kisses it.)

BEN
(pointing at picture) Your sister? She died? Died? You had to choose?

(VECTĒVS stares blankly, not understanding. BEN picks up guidebook and reads from it)

BEN
(in East European accent) Thank you very much. Thank you very much.
[Ben pronounces this slowly, haltingly, reading phonetics: “Sank voo wery mooch.”]

(VECTĒVS nods)


Read full lengths by Jacob Juntunen here!

Tuesday, September 20, 2011

1, 2, 3 ( a new play)

1, 2, 3
by Jacob Juntunen

(A MAN lies under a white sheet on a long, narrow platform, his pants on the floor beside him. WOMAN stands behind him, watching. She holds hands with GIRL. WOMAN and GIRL take one step towards the MAN.)

WOMAN and GIRL
One.

(GIRL runs to the MAN)

GIRL
Daddy, daddy, can I have a quarter?

MAN
You’re not supposed to come in the sauna.

GIRL
Tracy said I could come in here and ask you. I’ll pay you back. Please?

MAN
You can’t just wander around the gym. Where’s your mom?

GIRL
She’s in aerobics; they got this new video game in the lobby, it’s called Pac Man and you control these ghosts that are trying to kill this yellow thing eating all the food—

MAN
Who’s watching you?

GIRL
Mom told me to go to the daycare room but I went to the lobby, and Tracy said I could come ask you—

MAN
You need to go to daycare.

GIRL
I want a quarter so I can kill that Pac Man, I can give it back to you—

MAN
Either go to the daycare or go find your mom.

GIRL
Pleaaaaaase?

MAN
Don’t make me get up.

(GIRL goes back to the WOMAN. Together, they take another step closer to the MAN)

WOMAN and GIRL
Two.

(GIRL runs on)

GIRL
Tracy’s at the front desk and she says—

MAN
Why aren’t you in daycare?

GIRL
I went back to the lobby and Tracy says she’ll watch me while I play the game. And then she’ll take me to daycare. Pleeeeeease?

MAN
A quarter’s almost enough to get a tiger’s milk bar when we leave. You sure you want to spend it killing Pac Man instead?

GIRL
Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!

MAN
And you’re going to pay it back?

GIRL
Duh.

MAN
I think there’s one in my pocket.

(GIRL goes through pants on the floor and finds a quarter)

MAN
You promise Tracy’s at the front desk? And that she’ll take you to daycare right after?

GIRL
Yes.

MAN
Eskimo promise.

(MAN and GIRL rub noses. GIRL runs back to the WOMAN. In unison, they take a step closer to the MAN)

WOMAN and GIRL
Three.

(GIRL slowly and dejectedly comes on)

GIRL
Daddy.

MAN
Why aren’t you in daycare?

GIRL
Tracy’s taking me. She’s right outside. She said I could come in first.

MAN
What’s wrong?

GIRL
Daddy… You’re not the ghosts in Pac Man. (near tears) You’re the Pac Man. And I wasted all three lives thinking I was the ghosts. I thought I was controlling them, but I wasn’t, and I wasted your money, and I’m so sorry—

MAN
Honey—

GIRL
I’ll still pay you back, though, I promise.

MAN
Kiddo. It’s okay. Just have Tracy take you to daycare.

GIRL
I don’t know where I’m going to get a whole quarter, but I will.

(GIRL exits. The MAN is still. The WOMAN takes a final step, alone, saying nothing, at last reaching the MAN. She takes a quarter out of her pocket and puts it on the MAN’s body, then rubs noses with him. MAN doesn’t move and WOMAN pulls the sheet up over his head.)

WOMAN
I couldn’t ever pay you back.

END OF PLAY

Read full lengths by Jacob Juntunen here!