Skeletons in Her Closet [Part I]
Characters:
Admittance Nurse, late 50s
Julia, 16
Wilder, 17
Vince, 40-45
Jack, 40-45
Young Nurse, mid-20s
Marty, 40-45
Setting: A hospital waiting room, the day after Thanksgiving
At Rise: The Admittance Nurse is sitting at her desk. The radio [a pre-recorded tape of songs] is playing over the sound system. Julia, wearing the same dress she’s been wearing since the previous day, and looking as if she’s go
en no sleep, is weakly flipping through a magazine. Wilder rushes in.
Wilder (to Nurse): Where is she? Show me how to get there!
Nurse: Whom are you looking for, young man?
Wilder: My mother... her name’s Linda Malone.
Nurse: Ah... she’s in maternity, B wing.
Wilder: Which way?
Nurse: I’m afraid I can’t allow you in there at this time.
Wilder: What? She’s my mother!
Nurse: I’m very sorry.
Wilder: Why can’t I see her?
Nurse: They aren’t my rules, sir. I would advise you to have a seat. I’ll make sure to let you know when I can allow visitors.
(Wilder sighs in frustration, walks over and takes the seat next to Julia.)
Wilder (to Julia): Who are you here for?
Julia: What?
Wilder: I said, who are you here for? I’m here for my mother... she’s having a baby.
Julia: That’s nice.
Wilder: What about you?
Julia (avoiding the question): My name is Julia.
Wilder (extending his hand): Wilder.
Julia (shaking it): Wilder?
Wilder (shrugging): Family name. So, why did you say you were here?
Julia: My brother. He’s in ICU.
Wilder: They won’t let you visit, either?
Julia: No.
Wilder: What happened?
Julia: Um... he fell.
Wilder: Off what?
Julia: Hey, you’re getting a little personal.
Wilder: Sorry, I didn’t mean--
Julia: All right.
(Pause.)
Wilder: So... where do you go to school? Or am I allowed to ask that?
Julia: Berkshire High. You?
Wilder: Berkshire, huh? I go to Willow Union. I’m a junior.
Julia: Yeah? I’m a junior too. My brother’s girlfriend goes to Willow.
Wilder: How old is your brother?
Julia: He’s a senior.
Wilder: Does he play soccer or anything?
Julia: Nah, not since freshman year.
Wilder: Do you?
Julia: No.
Wilder: Oh. I was just wondering, y’know... we probably played eachother. Our schools, I mean.
Julia: Yeah.
(She returns to her magazine. Wilder picks up a Sports Illustrated, but doesn’t look at it.)
Wilder: Do you want something to eat?
Julia: No.
Wilder: Are you sure?
Julia: Yes.
Wilder: It’s almost lunchtime.
Julia: I said, No, thank you.
Wilder: I bet you’re worried about your brother.
Julia: You think?
Wilder: Hey, chill out.
Julia: Look, I’m sorry. I really don’t feel like talking right now.
Wilder: Well, I’m going for food. Are you sure you don’t want anything?
Julia: Yes.
Wilder: Suit yourself.
(He exits.)
(Lights down, spot Julia.)
Julia: Why is he trying to make me eat? Why is everybody always trying to make me eat? I can’t afford to gain any more weight. Yesterday was torture. All of them passing the food to me, putting it on my plate when I didn’t even ask for it. “H
e some turkey, Julia. Have some cranberry sauce, have some stuffing. Have some squash, some mashed potatoes, some dinner rolls. Lump some more pounds of fat onto your disgusting body!” I can’t do it. I can’t let them make me fatter. I’m not going to eat
nything but celery and water until David is home and safe.
(She picks up her magazine. Lights back up.)
(Vince and Jack, two men with Godfather-like accents and mannerisms, enter. They stop at the Nurse’s desk.)
Vince: Hey there, beautiful. How’d you like to make my day?
Nurse: It depends on what that entails.
Vince: Ah, smart and a looker. Listen, doll, me and Jack here need to know the location of Marty Shingler.
Nurse: And what is your relation to the patient?
Jack: Relation? Vince, she wants to know our relation.
Vince: Our relation, sweetheart, is that me and Jack and Marty are practically brothers.
Jack: Practically brothers.
Nurse: Practically?
Vince: We was born together, we grew up together, and we’re gonna die together.
Jack (nodding): Die together.
Nurse: But you have no blood relation?
Jack: No blood relation! What’re you talking about? We’ve got plenty of blood relation!
Vince: Yeah... cop blood, store clerk blood, the blood of them pesky garbage men...
Nurse: I mean genetic relation.
Vince: What does it matter? If we wanna see him, we wanna see him. So what?
Nurse: So what? The so what is this: how do I know you’re really friends with Marty? How do I know he isn’t some guy you tried to bump off, and you just want to finish the job? That’s the so what.
Jack: Oh. Well, ah...
Vince: Look, babycakes, I ain’t got a lotta time to mess around. My best friend--
Jack: Hey!
Vince: --one of my best friends is somewhere in this hospital. He could be dying. Marty is our poker buddy... our-- heh-- partner in crime. If I don’t find out where he is real soon, things could get kinda ugly.
Jack: Yeah. Things could get real ugly.
Vince (to Jack): You, shaddup. (to Nurse) Have I made myself clear, honey?
Nurse: Let me make something clear to you. Unless you can prove to me that you are Mr. Shingler’s immediate family, you can’t see him. And if you try any more of those persuasion techniques, I have a little button I can push right here
and several strong young men in blue uniforms will be here in thirty seconds. Capisce?
Vince: Uh, yeah. I’ll just sit over here. C’mon, Jack.
(Jack and Vince sit in the two empty chairs across from Julia.)
(Wilder enters with a soda and a sandwich. He sits and leans over Julia as he speaks to her. Note: the can of soda should be shaken up while offstage.)
Wilder: I’m back.
Julia: I noticed.
Wilder: Do you like ham and cheese?
Julia: Why?
Wilder: Well, I think you should eat something.
Julia: Leave me alone! I don’t need you to tell me what’s good for me!
(Wilder shrugs and begins eating the sandwich.)
I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to shout.
Wilder: D’you want some soda? It’s diet, if it makes you feel better. The machine was all out of regular.
Julia: Will you leave me alone if I do?
Wilder: Maybe.
Julia: Fine.
(Still leaning over her, Wilder opens the soda. It explodes all over Julia’s lap. She jumps up in disgust.)
Wilder: Oh my gosh, I am so sorry. Hey, listen, I’ll go get a paper towel.
Julia: No, you just stay here. I had to change anyway.
(She grabs her bag and stalks off.)
(Lights down, spot Wilder.)
Wilder: Geez. Girls are so sensitive sometimes. I hope the baby isn’t a girl. I want a little brother... someone who I can wrestle with and play football and Nintendo... and I can take him to baseball games and action movies and we’ll be best
riends, just like the brothers on TV. Well... kind of like the brothers on TV. I’m going to be sixteen years older than he is. Sixteen years... I’m almost old enough to be his father. When I graduate from high school, he’ll be two. When I graduate from
llege, he’ll be graduating from kindergarten. I bet when I get married, he’ll still be in elementary school. When he’s the age I am now, I’ll be thirty-two. I can’t even imagine what it’s like to be thirty-two... that’s so old! Am I even gonna be able t
talk to him? I’m not going to remember what it’s like to be sixteen. I’m going to be worrying about income taxes and buying my kids sneakers, and he’ll be worrying about SATs and getting a date for the prom. God, my parents sure have a sense of timing.
hy is it that whenever my life seems to get back on track, a baby has to come along and mess things up? First my parents, and now Emily... I’m too old to be a big brother, but I am not old enough to be a father.
(Lights back up.)
(Vince leans across the table towards Wilder.)
Vince: Hey, kid.
Wilder: Me?
Vince: Yeah. What’s your name?
Wilder: Ah, Wilder.
Vince: Wilder? (to Jack) This is my kinda kid.
Jack: Our kinda kid.
Vince: So, ah, Wilder... do you know how to play poker?
Wilder: Um... no.
Vince: Well, that’s a problem. Y’see, our poker buddy is holed up somewhere in this joint, the broad over there won’t tell us where, and we really need a third for poker. So I was hoping maybe you’d live up to your name and play a game or two
ith us.
Jack: Yeah, a game or two.
Wilder: I can play Go Fish.
Vince: Go Fish!? Do we look like Go Fish types to you, buddy?
Wilder: Crazy Eights? I Doubt It? Spoons? War? Slapjack?
Jack: Excuse me?
Vince: Yeah, say that last one again.
Wilder (obviously intimidated by Jack but not wanting to upset Vince): Um... Slapjack.
Vince: Yeah, let’s play that one. You got cards?
Wilder: No.
Vince: Lesson Number One: always have a pack of cards with you. Jacky, why don’t you run over to the gift shop and buy us some cards?
(Jack obediently jumps up and goes to get cards.)
So, kid... you got a job?
Wilder: A job? Um, yeah.
Vince: Whaddaya do?
Wilder: I sharpen pencils, make coffee, y’know.
Vince: So you’re what, an assistant?
Wilder: Yeah, pretty much,
Vince: The pay can’t be very good.
Wilder: It’s enough.
Vince: Listen, kid, I’m gonna make you a proposition.
Wilder: Yeah?
Vince: What would you say if... aw, cripes. Here comes your girlfriend.
Wilder: She isn’t my girlfriend!
(Julia enters, now wearing jeans and a shirt.)
Is your dress okay?
Julia: It’s fine... no thanks to you.
Wilder: Hey, I didn’t do it on purpose.
Julia: I know.
Wilder: Then why--
Julia: Forget it, okay?
(The Nurse’s telephone rings. She answers it.)
Nurse: Admittance desk, Beverly speaking. Just a minute. (to waiting room) Is there a Julia Slattery here?
Julia: Yes, that’s me.
Nurse (to phone): Yes, I’ve got her. What’s that? All right. I’ll let her know. Thank you.
(She hangs up the phone.)
Miss Slattery?
(Julia crosses to the Nurse’s desk.)
That was David’s physician. Your brother is still in critical condition. Your parents have arrived, however, and they will be staying with him until other visitors are allowed. Unfortunately, I still cannot admit you to the Intensive Care Unit. Davi
will be entering surgery in approximately twenty minutes. I’ll tell you as we get more information. Please try to relax and get some sleep.
Julia: Thank you.
(She returns to her seat.)
Wilder: What was that?
Julia: My brother.
Wilder: Your brother was on the phone?
Julia: No... my brother’s doctor.
Wilder: What did he say?
Julia: Well... he’s not any better. And I still can’t see him. They’re sending him to surgery.
Wilder: Wow.
Julia: She told me to get some sleep. Can you imagine? Sleep! How can I sleep?
Wilder: More importantly, where can you sleep? I guess you could push all those magazines off the table, but it wouldn’t be very--
Julia: Wilder!
Wilder: Sorry. So, is he going to be okay?
Julia: I don’t know.
(Jack returns with the cards.)
Vince: Hey, ah, Wilder... you ready to play?
Julia: Who’s that?
Wilder: Um, some guy. Hey, listen, you want to play, too?
Julia: What are you playing?
Wilder: Slapjack, I think.
(Jack is struggling with the plastic wrapping on the pack of cards. He can’t get it open.)
Jack: Hey, Vince... I can’t get this thing open.
Vince: What are you talking about? Just open it.
Jack: I can’t.
Wilder: Let me try.
(Jack hands Wilder the cards. Wilder can’t get it open either.)
Vince: Give it here.
(He hands Vince the cards. Vince pulls out a jackknife and slowly flips through the blades.)
Julia: What is he doing?!
Wilder: I don’t know... just stand up and back away slowly.
(Vince finally selects the blade he wants and uses it to cut open the plastic wrapping.)
Oh...
(Julia and Wilder quickly take their seats again.)
Vince: So what’re we playing? Hit Jack?
Wilder: Slapjack.
Jack: I don’t want to play this game.
Vince: Shaddup. So how d’you play, Wilder?
Wilder: Well, um... you cut the deck in two... (seeing that Vince is pulling out his knife again) No! I mean, why don’t you give me the cards.
(Vince gives Wilder the cards and he divides them into two piles, then hands one back to Vince.)
Now we both turn over the top card... yes, set it down there... and keep doing that until we see a Jack. When you see one, you have to hit it. Whoever gets their hand on it first gets to take all the cards underneath it. The object of the game is to
et the entire deck.
Vince: All right. I think I understand this game. So when I see a Jack, I hit it?
Wilder: Yes.
Vince: Okay.
Wilder: Um, so turn over your card. Yeah, see, there aren’t any Jacks so we don’t do anything. Now your next card. Yup.
(They continue playing, ad-libbing dialogue as they go. A Young Nurse enters, holding a clipboard.)
Young Nurse: Capizio? Is there a Mr. Vince Capizio here?
Vince: Yes, that’s me.
Young Nurse: Mr. Capizio, do you know a man named Marty Shingler?
Vince: I certainly do.
Young Nurse: He’s asking about you. Would you like to come see him now?
Vince: Absolutely. Did he happen to mention my friend?
Young Nurse (looking at her clipboard): What would your friend’s name be?
Vince: Jack. Jack Martello.
Young Nurse: No, but I’m sure it wouldn’t be a problem if he came along.
Vince: Thank you, sweet cheeks. Hey, Jack! We’re gonna go see Marty!
(Jack leaps up and he and Vince follow the Young Nurse out.)
(to Admittance Nurse, as he passes her desk) So long, sugar lips.
(All three exit.)
Wilder: Well. Looks like it’s you and me again.
Julia: How about that.
Wilder: You’re not still mad about the soda, are you?
Julia: No, it’s okay. I always hated that dress anyway.
Wilder: Why were you wearing it then?
Julia: My aunt bought it for me, and my mom made me wear it because she was coming for Thanksgiving.
Wilder: But Thanksgiving was yesterday.
Julia: My brother fell yesterday afternoon. The ambulance brought him here, and I haven’t been home since.
Wilder: So it was really serious, then? I figured he just slipped on a rug or something and landed funny. Is he hurt really badly?
Julia: It didn’t do him any good. I don’t really know how badly he’s hurt. They won’t give me any straight answers. They think I’ll have a nervous breakdown or something if I know what’s going on. I’m more likely to have a nervous breakdown i
I don’t know what’s happening.
Wilder: Yeah, so would I. I’m glad my mom’s not dying or anything. She’s just having a kid.
Julia: My brother isn’t dying!
Wilder: That’s not what I meant.
Julia: You know, a lot of things can happen when a woman is giving birth. She could die, the baby could die, or both.
Wilder: Thanks a lot.
Julia: Well, anything that happens in a hospital shouldn’t be taken lightly.
Wilder: Listen, I don’t like hospitals any more than the next guy, but maybe you could consider the fact that my mother is in here right now.
Julia: And maybe you could consider the fact that it’s my fault my brother is-- (She stops.)
(Pause.)
Wilder: What?
Julia: Nothing.
Wilder: No... you said it was your fault that--
Julia: It was nothing. Forget about it.
Wilder: Julia, you wouldn’t have said something like that for no reason.
Julia: I said it was nothing. All right?
Wilder: No, it isn’t all right. Tell me what you meant.
Julia: Excuse me? Since when am I obligated to tell you anything? I don’t even know your last name!
Wilder: It’s Malone.
Julia: That’s great. There’s a phone over there... call someone who cares.
Wilder: You’ll feel better if you tell someone.
Julia: There isn’t anything to tell. I’m going to get a drink.
Wilder (grabbing her wrist): Sit down. You aren’t going anywhere until you tell me what you were talking about.
Julia: Why should I? You don’t know me! You don’t know anything about me!
Wilder: So tell me.
(A long pause. Julia doesn’t look at Wilder and refuses to say anything.)
How did David fall, Julia?
Julia: Leave me alone.
Wilder: Where did he fall from? Come on, Julia.
Julia: Shut up! Just shut up!
Wilder: I’ll leave you alone as soon as you tell me what happened.
Julia: No.
Wilder: I know something happened. If you don’t tell somebody, it’s going to eat you up inside until you completely lose it.
Julia: Can’t you see? I’ve already lost it.
Wilder: Just tell me.
Julia: The stairs.
Wilder: The stairs?
Julia: He fell down the stairs.
Wilder: How?
Julia: I was talking to him... asking him not to tell, please don’t tell. But he kept saying that he had to, he was going to tell Mom and Dad. He said it was his responsibility to tell. I got so angry and scared.
Wilder: Did you push him?
Julia: No! I was saying... don’t tell, please don’t tell, and he was backing up, out into the hall, right up to the top of the stairs. I saw where he was going, but I couldn’t stop him. It was too fast. Everything was happening so fast, but i
seemed like it was in slow motion. You know how in dreams, you try to run but you can’t run fast enough? It’s like you’re frozen? That’s what it was like. It was like a horrible nightmare and I couldn’t wake up. His foot slipped over the top of the stai
He wobbled there for a moment before he lost his balance and tumbled down the flight of stairs, head over heels, again and again. Then he finally landed in a lump at the bottom of the stairs. I thought he was dead. They were all still down there eating
essert, my grandparents, his girlfriend, everyone, so they must have just looked out of the dining room and seen his broken body lying there. I don’t know what happened after that. Somebody must have called 911. Maybe it was Lee. It wasn’t me. I just sa
there, staring at the stairs, staring at David lying there. Even after the EMTs took him away on a stretcher, I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the spot where he’d landed, wondering if that red spot was part of the pattern on the rug or if it was blood.
Wilder: It’s not your fault, you know. He would have fallen whether you were there or not.
Julia: But I should have saved him.
Wilder: So you panicked. It’s forgivable. He’ll understand.
Julia: But what if he isn’t around to understand?
Wilder: Don’t say that.
Julia: But what if it’s true? What would I do?
Wilder: I don’t know what you want me to tell you.
Julia: I want you to tell me that everything is going to be okay.
Wilder: Everything is going to be okay.
(They sit awkwardly; Julia stiffly with her head bent and hands folded, Wilder hunched over with his chin in his hands. There is a short silence.)
Julia: Hey, they have “Where’s Waldo”.
Wilder: Yeah?
Julia: Right there. Did you play “Where’s Waldo” when you were a kid?
Wilder: Are you kidding? I was the “Where’s Waldo” master.
(He picks up the book and begins flipping through the pages.)
There’s Waldo. There he is again...
(He continues flipping through the book, finding Waldo and commenting on his own cleverness, ad lib.)
Mmm... now this one is extra hard. See, I have to find Waldo and his dog. There’s Waldo... now where is the dog? Julia, do you see it? Julia?
(Wilder looks up to see that Julia has fallen asleep, slouched in her chair.)
Oh.
(A long silence. Wilder looks at her for a moment, then speaks.)
I don’t know what it is about people when they’re sleeping. They’re so... defenseless, maybe. She looks like a little kid. When she’s asleep, she can’t yell at me, or get all ticked off for something stupid I didn’t mean to say. Why do I care if she yel
at me? Why do I care what she thinks of me? It doesn’t make any sense. She’s just a girl. I don’t even know her. Why does it matter? Why does it matter if she thinks I’m a jerk? I bet she wouldn’t even care if I told her that I’m the captain of the soc
r team. Or that I’m ranked second in my class. But there’s something about her that makes me want to stay here and watch her sleep.
(He regards her thoughtfully, then picks up his jacket and puts it over her.)
I’ll be back, Julia.
(He exits.)
(Julia slumbers for a few moments longer, then awakens with a start.)
Julia: David? Oh, David... it’s almost one o’clock. They’re probably operating on him right now. But he’s going to be okay.
(A long pause. Julia picks up the “Where’s Waldo” book.)
Oh, who am I kidding? Wilder said it was going to be okay because I told him to say that. It isn’t going to be okay. Nothing’s going to be okay, not ever. I wish I were little again. I wish yesterday had never happened. I wish that I were eig
years old and that David was home and we were playing Monopoly. We always played Monopoly. I always won. And I only cheated some of the time. David probably knew I was cheating. He probably let me win. But he’s going to be okay. I bet this time tomorro
we’ll both be home and playing Monopoly and all those other games we played. Everything is going to be fine. David is going to wake up, and we’ll laugh about our little misunderstanding, and he’ll say, of course I won’t tell, Julia, I would never tell.
... he will tell. Of course he will. David is going to wake up and say, “Mom and Dad, I caught Julia throwing up.” And then they’ll come and make me go to the doctor, and the doctor will have to put a label on me, like one of those girls in the b
chures. He is going to make me a statistic by saying, “Mr. and Mrs. Slattery, your daughter is bulimic.” What will they think of me? They’ll make me go to a psychiatrist. Or a therapist, or something, and he’ll just ask me dumb questions, like, “Do you
ve a poor body image, Julia?” What am I supposed to say? “What do you mean, a poor body image? You mean, do I have rolls of fat on my stomach? Do my legs look like two slabs of beef?” And they’ll all just try to help me. “Let me help you,
lia. I’m only trying to help.” Well, maybe I don’t need help! Maybe I can just take care of myself! He’ll ask why I make myself throw up. And I’ll have to tell him that it’s because I’m disgusting. Because everywhere I look, there are mirrors, mi
ors, mirrors. They’re all around me, all of them laughing, all of them saying, “Look at yourself Julia. Look at how ugly you are! No one loves you. No one will ever love you unless you stop looking like a pig!” Because when I get out of the shower, I lo
at my hips, my thighs, and I wonder why I’m not like the girls in the magazines. I wonder why the hell I’m not like the girls in the magazines!
(Julia collapses, sobbing hysterically. Wilder enters.)
Wilder: Julia! What’s wrong?
Julia: He’s going to die, and it’s my fault.
Wilder: Julia, we just went through this. It isn’t your fault, and he isn’t going to die.
Julia: Of course he’s going to die! And if he doesn’t, he’ll be paralyzed and in a wheelchair for the rest of his life.
Wilder: You don’t know that.
Julia: He landed on his neck, Wilder. You don’t land on your neck and then jump up and run around and do all the stuff you used to do.
Wilder: But even then, he’d still be alive.
Julia: He may as well be dead. David was always out doing something, playing basketball, running, swimming. If he has to be stuck in a wheelchair, with someone else feeding him and dressing him and doing everything for him, he’ll go cr
y.
Wilder: You have to stop blaming yourself for this.
Julia: Who else am I supposed to blame?
Wilder: It isn’t your fault.
Julia: Why don’t you just shut up and listen to me? I was in the bathroom, throwing up. I felt so disgusting; I’d eaten twice as much as anyone else and I couldn’t bear to look at my body.
Wilder (stunned): You were throwing up?
Julia: I’d finally found a way to beat the system... I could eat whatever I wanted and then just throw it up later. But David caught me. He heard and he opened the door. I was trying to convince him not to tell Mom and Dad. I knew how angry t
y’d be. But he just kept saying that he had to tell. I was walking towards him, and he was backing down the hall... and then... oh, God!
(She begins sobbing again, but Wilder doesn’t touch her.)
Wilder: You were throwing up. You were throwing up and he caught you, so you... you...
Julia: I tried to tell you.
Wilder: I can’t believe it. You pushed him.
Julia: No! I didn’t push him!
Wilder: You may as well have!
Julia (accusingly): You said it wasn’t my fault. I thought you were on my side. I thought you believed I didn’t do it on purpose.
(Long pause.)
Wilder (awkwardly): Okay, I’m sorry. It all hit me a little too fast. I shouldn’t have blamed you. Of course you didn’t do it on purpose.
Julia: Don’t apologize for what I did. Look, I shouldn’t have tried to dump this on you. No one can help me.
Wilder: I can help you! If you’ll just trust me, if we can act like a team--
Julia: The only person on my team is me.
Wilder: I can be on your team if you let me. Why don’t you just stop right now and tell me what you’re thinking.
Julia: What I’m thinking? You want to know what I’m thinking? I’m thinking that you wouldn’t give a damn about me if I hadn’t told you that I was bulimic. You think you’re being such a Good Samaritan now, helping the poor bulimic girl.
Wilder: That isn’t true.
Julia: I don’t want to be the bulimic girl! I want to be Julia! I want you to be my friend. I want you to like me.
Wilder: I do like you.
Julia: You don’t like me. You pity me.
Wilder: I don’t pity you!
Julia: You know, I don’t care anymore.
Skeletons In Her Closet [Part II]
