Park Bench
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This isn't a short story, per say. It's a stage play - a scene that I wrote. I tend to write quite a few of these, and I think I'm better at them than I am short stories. So here it goes.
------
(Curtain open and lights come up at full intensity. The backdrop for the scene is a small park - a children's playground at R, and green fields L with a baseball field in the far back.
The only thing we see on stage is a park bench, DCL, a little cheerless. Seated on the bench is CALEB BAKER, a quiet poet who dislikes distractions - and most people. His attire wouldn't suggest anything outrageous - not poor, not rich, not well-kept, not dirty. However, his attitude gives the impression that he's annoyed with the world. He sits profile at the left end of the bench with a notebook in hand. He writes furiously for a moment, and then changes his mind, scribbling the words and turning to the next page. He writes as if trying to find the perfect words. This continues for a little bit, until LILY RUSSELL enters from stage right. She has her hair up, perhaps a little too high and messy, and carries an oversized purse. Upon seeing CALEB, she smiles, and when he doesn't respond, she gives a small wave with her hand. Still he doesn't respond. She isn't offended, but wants to sit down, so she feels compelled to speak.
LILY. (Clearing her throat.) Ahem. (Nothing. She tries again repeatedly, louder each time.) Ahem. Ahem!
CALEB. (Looks up.) Something in your throat?
LILY. No...may I sit down?
CALEB. (Pause.) Are you going to be loud?
LILY. (Notices his notebook.) Oh, I see - you're working hard. I won't be loud. (Loud.) I'm as quiet as a mouse. (Sits.) You won't ever know I'm here!
CALEB. I'm sure I won't.
LILY. Quiet Lily, that's what they call me.
CALEB. I bet.
LILY. (Noticing offstage.) Have you met that man over there?
CALEB. What man?
LILY. The one just down the way a bit. He's a man of lesser money, most likely a run-down home...
CALEB. He's a hobo.
LILY. Well, that's a mean way to put it.
CALEB. The hard truth. Live with it. I know I do.
LILY. Hmm. (After an awkward silence.) So, now that I've told you my name, what's yours?
CALEB. I thought I told you I was trying to write.
LILY. It's just your name. It can't take that long...unless you're Spanish.
CALEB. (She's the strangest thing he's ever seen.) It's Caleb.
LILY. Caleb. That's a nice name. (He turns back to his work.) Though when you think about it, it sounds kind of unfinished, like a nickname. Is that your full name? Or is it Calebaza? Or...Caleben? Or...Caleboner? (Laughs to herself while he grows more annoyed.) Now my name - it sounds pretty complete, don't you think? I mean, what could you make more out of the name Lily? Not much. You want to know what my middle name is?
CALEB. No.
LILY. Oh, c'mon, it's really funny.
CALEB. I'm sure it is, but I don't really care about middle names at the moment.
LILY. Just guess.
CALEB. What?!
LILY. Guess what my middle name is. It's kind of close to my first name.
CALEB. I have no idea. I don't know names that are close to Lily.
LILY. Think hard.
CALEB. I'm already thinking hard. Just not about middle names.
LILY. It's the same type of thing that my name is...it grows...it smells nice.
CALEB. Rose. I don't know.
LILY. (Shrieks.) How did you know?!
CALEB. (Sarcastic, pointing to his head.) I've got a lot of smarts, kid.
LILY. That's scary. It's like you can read minds. (Serious.) Can you?
CALEB. No!
LILY. Oh. That's too bad. I once knew this fortune teller. She always told me bad things about myself, but I decided none of that could be true. I don't think I believe in...
CALEB. Rose!
LILY. Lily.
CALEB. Lily, whatever. Listen, I have an idea. If you want to talk to me so bad, pretend you're talking to me, but instead, keep the words in your head.
LILY. Like this? (She mimes conversation, but no words come out.)
CALEB. Perfect. Keep doing that. (He turns back to his writing while LILY mouths words without making any sounds. She does this for a while, then taps CALEB on the shoulder.) I thought I told you to leave me alone?
LILY. I asked you a question. Just because you can't hear me doesn't mean I haven't asked anything.
CALEB. (Sighs heavily.) What?
LILY. Do you have any birdseed? Or breadcrumbs?
CALEB. (More of a statement of bewilderment than a question.) Why would I have that.
LILY. For the pigeons of course.
CALEB. Lily, there aren't any pigeons here.
LILY. (Pulling it out of her bag.) I brought a little baggy of some, but I don't have a lot. I don't want any of them to fight over the food or feel left out.
CALEB. Do you see any pigeons?
LILY. Everyone should get a fair amount of food. So I wanted to know if you had any extra. The more, the better.
CALEB. There aren't any pigeons!
LILY. (Stares a moment, as if he's the stupid one.) Of course there are.
CALEB. I can't believe I'm arguing this. There's no one here but you and me.
LILY. (Backs away a moment.) Are you coming onto me?
CALEB. No! What would drive me to that extreme?
LILY. (Relaxed again.) Oh, good. (She takes some of the birdseed and tosses out on the ground in front of her.) There. That looks like enough for now.
CALEB. You're putting food on the bare ground. There's nothing...never mind. I'm going to keep trying to write. (He resumes his first position.)
LILY. (After throwing some more birdseed on the ground.) So whatcha writing?
CALEB. You're very irritating, you know that?
LILY. (Presses.) Whatcha writing?
CALEB. Poems, if you have to know.
LILY. Really? I love poetry! I could read it all day. What's your full name? Maybe I've read you somewhere.
CALEB. (Now interested in conversation, if they're going to talk about him.) Caleb Baker.
LILY. (Thinking with all her might.) Wait...I think I read something...nope. Oh wait, maybe I saw - no, no, I didn't. Now hold on, I think I - no, I didn't. Nope, never heard of you.
CALEB. Figures. (An lightbulb came on.) I got something! (Furiously writes.) I don't know where it came from, but I got it. You want to hear it?
LILY. Of course!
CALEB. (Stands and reads regally.) I do not know what it is about you that closes and opens; only something in me understands the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses. (Looks at her.) It's perfect!
LILY. (Not nearly as impressed.) Yeah, it is.
CALEB. I must have gotten the idea about the roses when you said your middle name. I'm quite content with myself now.
LILY. Mmm-hmm.
CALEB. What? Do you think it's bad?
LILY. No, no. It's beautiful.
CALEB. Then what's wrong with it?
LILY. Cummings.
CALEB. Huh?
LILY. E.E. Cummings wrote that, not you.
CALEB. (Looking back at the paper.) Did he?
LILY. Yeah, he did. Maybe you got it stuck in your head from one of his poetry books. The next line is, "Nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands."
CALEB. Damn it, you're right. (Defeated.) I'm at a complete block. I can't do anything right.
LILY. (School teacher encouragement.) That's not true, silly. I'm sure you're good at a lot of things. (Thinking.) Do you play any sports?
CALEB. No. I tried out for the soccer team in high school, and didn't make it. I never tried again.
LILY. (Trying to roll it off, thinking of something else.) Well, athletic smarts aren't nearly as important as academic smarts. Like...did you excel in anything in high school? Like English?
CALEB. No. I liked to write, but I hated all of the technical stuff about it.
LILY. Hmmm. Do you play any instruments?
CALEB. Nope.
LILY. Are you married?
CALEB. Hell, no.
LILY. Girlfriend?
CALEB. No. (Pause.) Well, there was this one girl one time. (Turns to her profile to tell her; she listens intently with a big smile.) She and I got together right after high school. We both worked in the grocery store - she had the express lane, and I was the guy who takes all the shopping carts back from outside. I don't know what it was, but we just clicked.
LILY. (The classic romantic.) And then you got her flowers from the florist section and she was enthralled by your undying love?
CALEB. I wish I had thought of that at the time. I wanted to say something very sweet to her, something very romantic. I loved her eyes. They were this deep, deep brown. And I went up to her once when we both were on the same break, and I said, 'You know...you have really nice eyes.'
LILY. And she said, 'How did you know I was lusting after you? Come now, my sweet Romeo, let us be but shadows in the night. Let us run away together!' Am I right?
CALEB. No. She looked right into my eyes and said, 'Who are you?'
LILY. Well, that's anti-climatic.
CALEB. What's the point, Lily? What makes you so happy? What are you good at?
LILY. There's only a point if you say and believe there is one. That's what I think.
CALEB. Is there one?
LILY. I don't know. That's never been my biggest worry. I don't have to be good at something. I like doing what I want, so it doesn't matter to me if I'm good at it. If it makes me happy, I like to do it.
CALEB. (Depressed.) I'm glad you can think that way.
LILY. Why can't you?
CALEB. It's not good enough for me, Lily. (Standing.) I'm no good at anything. I try so hard and I can't do a thing right. I can't even manage relationships. I mean, how sad is that? (LILY only sits on the bench and listens.) I've pushed myself to my limit. I can't do it anymore. I don't want to get all depressed, but that's what's going to happen if I keep this up. The only thing I'm ever going to be good at writing is a suicide note, that's what. It's this great big momentum that adds up to nothing. Because what else good is it? If I have to face reality, I don't want to live. Life is this great big build up, this momentum, that everyone keeps talking about. People always say it goes by really fast but it's too slow for me. I just keep waiting for something to happen, and nothing does. (LILY, who has been silent but listening, watches him in his self defeat. After a considerable pause, she starts throwing her breadcrumbs on the ground again. They fall near CALEB'S feet. He comes back to the park bench and sits next to her again. He picks up his notebook, looking at it a moment, and then letting it fall to the ground beside him. He looks at LILY, who smiles in the same quirky way as she has since he met her. He nods at her bag of bird feed.) Can I have some of that?
LILY. Sure. (She holds the open bag to him, and he takes a handful. He tosses some on the ground in front of him. They both sit and watch the imaginary birds for a while.)
CALEB. Oh, look at those two. They're starting to fight.
LILY. It's only natural. Birds fight. Hey, this one seems to like you.
CALEB. (To the bird.) Hey, look at you. You're such an odd one. I think I'll call you Caleboner. (They continue to talk and feed the birds.)
THE CURTAIN FALLS.
Want to comment on this Short Stories?
Sign up to Edit Red and you will be able to comment on Short Stories and get access to: Upload your own stories and poems, get readers and their feedback, promote your work...
|
 |
|