(LIGHTS FADE IN on an almost empty stage: upstage left is a simple wooden bridge, downstage right is a small, backless bench.

From upstage left, JIM enters. He is an ordinary-looking man, in his mid-thirties. He comes across the bridge and down to the bench, deep in thought. He sits)

JIM: (to the audience) I guess the seeds of what I did were sown long before I dreamed of doing what I did. The things men do, the things we all do, come from such seeds. Decisions aren’t really made overnight. Certain flowers – or weeds – are planted by accident, or by purpose – and take root. And grow. Until they blossom – or choke – what’s around them. And so it was for me. A long time ago. The planting of the seeds.

(LIGHTS FADE OUT

LIGHTS FADE IN center stage on MOTHER and YOUNG JIM. MOTHER is ironing. YOUNG JIM, about ten years old, stands there with a plastic toy fireman’s hat.)

MOTHER: I know you like your fire trucks, but last week you wanted to be a sailor. Next week it will be something else. You don’t know what you want, son. You’re young, and your father and I have taken good care of you all these years and we’re going to keep on taking good care of you. You’re too young to know what you want. It’s foolish for you to imagine that you do. Listen to me, Jimmy, and to your father. We know what’s best. And when it’s time for you to study and be whatever it is you should be, we’ll have to pay for it. So we should have some say, don’t you think?

(LIGHTS FADE OUT

LIGHTS FADE IN on JIM sitting on the bench.)

JIM: It made sense – if you were her. But what was I to do with the feelings I had inside me? I knew I couldn’t really be a pirate or a cowboy – but – somewhere – somewhere in the world there had to be – something – that felt the same way. All the things I thought seemed so foolish and impossible. And the things they thought seemed so far away from the things I wanted. But I dreamed my dreams and sweated out my fears, climbed trees and wrote with chalk on people’s screen doors at Halloween – and then Johnny moved in next door. We used his dad’s tool shed for our clubhouse. We were the only members for a time. We sent messages by code across classrooms. And in the spring we slept in the backyard, shivering to ghost stories and wondering at the world. He was my friend.

(LIGHTS FADE OUT

LIGHTS FADE IN center stage on YOUNG JIM and YOUNG JOHN, the latter holding onto his bicycle.)

YOUNG JOHN: Come on! It’ll be great! Tommy’s got the hammer and Bobby’s the lookout.

(YOUNG JIM shakes his head.)

YOUNG JOHN: Why not? You scared? You think we’ll get caught? Come on, Jimmy!

YOUNG JIM: I don’t want to.

YOUNG JOHN: Gotta yellow streak down your back?

YOUNG JIM: ‘Cause I don’t wanta rob a coke machine? Naw. I’m not afraid. I’m just not interested.

YOUNG JOHN: What would interest you, then?

(YOUNG JIM pulls a paperback book out of his back pocket.)

YOUNG JOHN: (shaking his head) What a sissy.

(LIGHTS FADE OUT

LIGHTS FADE IN on JIM at the bench.)

JIM: I knew he was wrong, but it hurt anyway. I knew how I looked to him – and them – so I didn’t look too good to myself, either. And I went, of course. We didn’t get caught. We got $6.45. And I still had my friend – but I was – losing more of – me – again. What I wanted, what I really wanted just never seemed important. Till I met Annie. That was important. The most important thing I’d ever wanted. To be with Annie.

(LIGHTS FADE OUT

LIGHTS FADE IN center stage on JIM and ANNIE. She appears a gentle, pretty girl of about 20 years old. A small suitcase is in her hand and a larger suitcase at her feet. She puts down the small suitcase.)

JIM: You’ve changed your mind?

ANNIE: I want to go! Really, Jim! You don’t know how much! But…

(JIM nods.)

ANNIE: It’s not me. It’s Dad.

JIM: I know. He wants the best for you.

ANNIE: (shyly) You are the best for me.

JIM: Not what he think’s best.

(They look at each other a long moment and then take hands.)

JIM: He’ll never let you go, Annie. Please come with me. He’ll understand, maybe not now, but sometime! Come with me.

ANNIE: I can’t. I won’t.

JIM: You want to forget about us?

ANNIE: No!

(They both think for a moment.)

ANNIE: Jim...

(He listens intently.)

ANNIE: Could you – couldn’t you –

JIM: What? I’ll do it.

ANNIE: Get a different job? Something – important.

(JIM nods. ANNIE smiles happily.

LIGHTS FADE OUT

LIGHTS FADE IN on Jim at the bench.)

JIM: I did. I’d been studying engineering. Thought I might be a builder. But it was a long-range thing. And we had to impress the old man faster than that. Well, my uncle had the biggest hardware store in town and I’d worked there as a kid. So I went to work for him. I worked hard and he paid me for it. He loved his store. It was just – not what I wanted to do. But within a year and a half I was managing it. ‘Course by then, Annie’d married the Coleman boy. He’s a partner to her dad now. – It didn’t matter after a while. It wouldn’t have worked out anyway. But I didn’t have the – drive, after that. Till Carolyn became my wife.

(LIGHTS FADE OUT

LIGHTS FADE IN center stage. CAROLYN, a smart and handsome woman, and JIM, sit in two kitchen chairs, reading the papers.)

CAROLYN: (putting the paper in her lap) Honey, you’re going to be late.

(JIM doesn’t move.)

CAROLYN: Jim?

JIM: (folds the paper, hands it to her) I think I need a day off.

CAROLYN: What’s the matter?

JIM: Nothing – really.

(CAROLYN waits, concerned.)

JIM: But I need...

CAROLYN: Will a day off help?

JIM: I don’t know.

CAROLYN: (gently) We really can’t afford it.

JIM: One day?

CAROLYN: (looking around) Is this all you want?

JIM: What more is there?

(CAROLYN doesn’t answer.)

JIM: Aren’t you happy?

CAROLYN: You know I am. But is this all we’ll ever have?

JIM: It seems more than enough to me.

CAROLYN: (smiling) For three of us?

(LIGHTS FADE OUT

LIGHTS FADE IN on JIM at the bench.)

JIM: My son. Something happens in a man when he has a son. And my little girl. How did I help to make that pretty little girl? – I did work harder. I didn’t even remember wanting to be a pirate or whatever it was I used to want so badly, summer nights, looking up at a star, squeezing my eyes shut – wishing. I worked. I sold hardware and I did a good job.

(LIGHTS FADE OUT

LIGHTS FADE IN center stage on JIM and TWO CHILDREN. The girl is about five, holding a doll. The boy is about eight, holding a baseball bat.)

BOY: Dad, you comin’ Saturday to watch me win?

GIRL: To watch you play, you mean.

JIM: Yes, son.

GIRL: My recital’s Friday night, Daddy.

JIM: I know, sweetheart. I’ll be there.

BOY: Then you ain’t goin’ fishin’?

JIM: No, son.

GIRL: Mom doesn’t like cleaning the fish, anyway.

JIM: Mom’s got too much else to clean, honey.

BOY: Can’t we go fishin’ with ya?

GIRL: I don’t want to go fishing!

BOY: I do.

JIM: We’ll try.

(LIGHTS FADE OUT

LIGHTS FADE IN on JIM at the bench.)

JIM: We did try, but the kids were too busy with other things. And I was too busy with work, things around the house, my folks. I didn’t miss a game. Or a recital. And I wouldn’t trade the time I gave my kids for anything. Not for anything – but I never did go fishin’ again. (stands) I’m thinking of it now – not just fishin’ – everything. I need to get away. I know what you’re thinking! But what can I do! I care about them, but I – I care about me, too. What me? God knows I have to be a good son, a good friend, a good husband, a good father. But I’m no good at being me – so how can I be any good to anyone else? – I know they need me! My mother – I saw it in her eyes, some sad thing, something she needed. And Carolyn, her needs are as great as mine will ever be. My children? My children…It hurts to see how much they need me. But I’m right to need me, too!

(LIGHTS FADE OUT

LIGHTS FADE IN center stage. JIM can be seen in the shadows, downstage right, his back to the bridge. From upstage left, MOTHER enters, crosses the bridge and comes to center stage. She looks longingly at JIM, as if she wants to go to him, but finally just addresses the audience.)

MOTHER: Life was so different for me before Jimmy was born. I was Mary Linden. I loved my husband. I looked forward to the future. And when I first felt my son move inside me – there are no words. Jimmy was born and he lived and he grew. And I loved him and I worked for him and I tried and I knew happiness. But with his birth, some part of me died. All things are meant to be born and then to die; so I accepted it. But sometimes – only sometimes – I grieved. I needed – something. But it seemed I had no right to need. I did what I thought a mother should do. Perhaps that was a mistake. For I was still Mary Linden. It seemed I was only a mother. But I had been a woman. A person. I looked at my son and I was grateful to be his mother. But I wanted to tell him – something – without anger – without force – something I – needed. He might have understood.

(She steps into the shadows, to the bridge, and stands at the end of it, out of the pathway. JOHNNY, grown, enters upstage left and crosses the bridge to center stage. He looks at JIM, wants to talk to him but sees only his back, so he talks to the audience.)

JOHNNY: (looks at his wrist) There’s still a scar here from the night we became blood brothers – $6.45. Jimmy didn’t even make fun of that. $6.45. An expensive night for me. I didn’t think he was yellow. I was. I wish he hadn’t gone. I wouldn’t have, either.

(JOHNNY steps into the shadows, to the bridge. He stands beside MOTHER and becomes as motionless as she. ANNIE comes from upstage left across the bridge to center stage.)

ANNIE: (to JIM’S back) I was afraid! (saddened by his silence, she turns to the audience) And ashamed to be afraid. But if you knew my father! I loved my father. I needed him to love me. I couldn’t do anything that would displease him. And so I couldn’t get on with – with growing up. Jimmy – I loved him. I came alive when he looked at me. I wasn’t afraid of anything then. Or ashamed. And the love he made me feel made my love for my father even greater. But I couldn’t choose! Wouldn’t choose. No, I did. In a way. I choose my father. – Oh, Jimmy! Why didn’t you make me go with you? – No, you were right not to. Right to let me choose. But you shouldn’t have given in to me! You should have done what – whatever was – truly – you! But then, I didn’t have the courage to be myself, either.

(ANNIE steps into the shadows, next to JOHNNY. CAROLYN enters from upstage left, across the bridge, to center stage.)

CAROLYN: When I married Jim, when he pulled back the veil from my face, and he kissed me, I swore to myself and to my god that he’d have everything he ever needed. I wanted his mornings filled with sunshine, his days filled with things to do that pleased him, and his nights a time of warmth and attention. I was going to be the finest cook, the best housekeeper and the prettiest wife a man could want. But when I met him, his days were already filled with things to do that his heart wasn’t really in, not really. – He says he doesn’t mind. But, I should say, “stop”! Do something else! The world is full of jobs, of careers, of ways to make ends meet! There must be a hundred other things you could do that you would enjoy. Don’t do this to yourself! – But I don’t. I can’t – say it. I want to be – secure. I don’t hope to be rich, but I want to be secure and I don’t know how to get that. I want him to do it for us. I don’t want the responsibility I put on him. And if I had to do what he has to do, morning to night, I would hate him for it. – And I like taking care of my home. So he does it for us. But a light’s gone out in his eyes. And so has a light in mine.

(CAROLYN steps into the shadows and stands next to ANNIE. The BOY enters from upstage left, across the bridge, and to center stage.)

BOY: I love my dad, no matter what he does. But he doesn’t know it. When he looks sad, it scares me. But I don’t tell him. There’s something wrong inside him and I can see it but he tells me it’s nothing. Sometimes I think it’s my fault. Why can’t he talk to me? I know some things. I could understand, maybe. I need to know! And if he talked to me about it, I might even could help – if he asked.

(The BOY moves to CAROLYN, stands next to her. The GIRL enters from upstage left and crosses the bridge to center stage.)

GIRL: I could, too. Not if he shouts at me, because then I feel like I’m bad. And I’m not bad. But if my daddy’s mad at me I think he doesn’t know me or like me – and I’m not anybody if my daddy doesn’t like me – but if he’d tell me how he is and ask me to help, I’d do anything for my daddy.

(The GIRL steps into the shadows, next to the BOY. They all take one last, almost longing look at JIM who still has his back to them. Then one by one they cross back over the bridge, exiting upstage left, each throwing backward glances at JIM’S figure, until they are all gone.

JIM slowly moves from the bench area to center stage, enormously drawn to them. He stares off in their direction, then looks down almost defeated, and starts back to the bench area. He stops. He realizes something, looks at the audience in surprise – then looks back to where the others exited, then looks back again to the bench area. He has reached an understanding.)

JIM: (finally and with some awe) I should have told them! And I shouldn’t have given in, not on everything! Me! They didn’t keep me from me – I did it to myself.

(JIM starts toward the bridge, hesitates. He looks to the bench area. Turns around. Finally goes to the bridge. He begins to cross it, slowly. He stops at the center, looks at the audience – smiles – then continues across the bridge back to his family.)

LIGHTS FADE OUT)

© 2003, Darlene Bridge Lofgren