NORMAL IS A COUNTRY–STEVEN SCHUTZMAN
Setting: The foyer of an American home. The not too distant past or future.
Characters:
Brian – a injured soldier, recently home from the hospital and rehab..
Eva – his mother
(BRIAN, scarred, head bandaged, enters front door.)
BRIAN: (Performing each action) You are coming into the house where you have lived your whole life, except for the army, of course, of course. You are putting your house key down on the hall table and putting your wallet there too. And seventy six cents. And your sunglasses. And your walky-talky, just in case. The word walky-talky always makes you laugh. ‘Just in case’, makes you sad.
EVA: (On walky-talky) Is that you, Brian?
BRIAN: Even you know this is strange.
EVA: (On walky-talky) I’m here, out back, and I thought I heard someone come in the house. Are you home now or still at the park, Bri? Answer me, please.
BRIAN: If you didn’t know it was strange, it would seem normal and nothing does. Normal is a country where someone strange can live. Strange is an island with a mouth.
EVA: (On walky-talky) Is that you there, Bri? Oh yeah. Sorry. Over.
BRIAN: ‘Over’ means your turn to talk. ‘Over’ makes you laugh.
EVA: (On walky-talky) Honey? Over.
BRIAN: ‘Honey’ makes you sad.
EVA: (On walky-talky) I’m a sweaty mess and almost done planting and I really don’t want to come in if you’re not home, so answer me, please, one way or the other. Over.
BRIAN: You should answer this woman who says she is your mother so she will stop worrying about you. (Into walky-talky) Your son is home from the park now. Safe and sound. Over.
EVA: (On walky-talky) Great. I’ll be in after I put in these last few plants. Over.
BRIAN: The woman who says she is your mother is planting hundreds of lovely flowers in the backyard beds. What kind? What kind of flowers? (Pause. He closes his eyes, opens them) Nothing. No answer. Questions you can’t answer upset you. May be time for some mending. No. Not yet. Not yet, Honey.
EVA: (On walky-talky) Over.
BRIAN: (Closes his eyes, opens them.) Pansies. Pansies are one. Good. No need to mend yet. ‘Pansies’ makes you laugh. These words aren’t funny to anyone else. Even you know that. That is how it is in your country. ‘Hammock’ makes you laugh. ‘Laugh’ makes you laugh. ‘Perennial’ makes you sad. ‘Country’ makes you sad.
EVA: (On walky-talky) Over.
BRIAN: (Into walky-talky) Over. (He laughs)
EVA: (On walky-talky) Very funny, over.
BRIAN: ‘Over’ means she is done talking and you should begin talking.
EVA: (On walky-talky) Over.
BRIAN: You begin talking. You are always at the beginning of talking. You don’t know the words. The words know you and you know you because of the words. You listen to your words as if someone else was speaking them. (Into walky-talky) Over.
EVA: (On walky-talky) That’s it. I’m done. I’ll be right in, Sweetie, to get you a lemonade, over.
BRIAN: (Into walky talky) You should stay out there with your flowers. Pansies. Don’t worry. We’re fine. (Off walky-talky) That was strange. Even you know that. (Into walky-talky) You don’t have to come in for…me. I…I’m fine. I just poured my own lemonade and I’m fine.
EVA: (On walky-talky) You said ‘I’ and ‘me’. That’s wonderful, Brian.
(EVA enters.)
EVA: That’s wonderful, Bri. And you lied about the lemonade.
BRIAN: Sorry.
EVA: No, it’s wonderful. Your first lie.
BRIAN: Lying is not good.
EVA: For you it is because it takes forethought, the past, present and future all at once, planning, and you did it. You. See what I mean?
BRIAN: No.
EVA: That’s right. How could you?
BRIAN: My mouth did it, like it always does it.
EVA: No, you made your mouth obey you, I think. It’s another step in getting the you that’s you back. You had…have, such a nice way about you.
BRIAN: My mouth says that if that person comes back he will kill you.
EVA: He won’t kill me, Sweetie.
BRIAN: No, he will kill…me. Me.
EVA: Who says?
BRIAN: I…I need to mend now.
EVA: Doesn’t it feel good to say I?
BRIAN: Yes. I say I need to mend now.
EVA: Why not try to wait just a little longer? How was the park?
BRIAN: Get me my mending, please.
EVA: Not yet. Not yet. Sorry. That was so stupid, saying ‘the you that’s you back’, Sweetie. What an idiot I am sometimes. I’m sorry. Can you forgive me?
BRIAN: There is nothing to forgive.
EVA: We have to be patient with each other. My impatience is about the future I want you to have but it’s still wrong. It’s just like when you were a baby, and your father and I caught ourselves rushing you to grow up, to reach the next stage, for us, for us. How selfish. We must be where we are. Listen to me run on.
BRIAN: That wasn’t my first lie. I say I don’t remember the explosion but I almost remember the explosion. I say I almost remember the explosion like I almost remember my name.
EVA: How can you almost remember something?
BRIAN: I don’t know. What about my mending?
EVA: How about that lemonade?
(BRIAN stands there with his eyes closed.)
BRIAN: A dog chased a squirrel.
EVA: Excuse me.
BRIAN: (Eyes closed) A dog is chasing a squirrel. (Eyes open)
EVA: At the park?
BRIAN: Yes. A dog chased a squirrel up a tree.
EVA: That’s very good, Sweetie. You remembered.
BRIAN: My mouth told me to remember. It said to remember the dog and the squirrel just like it says the turns to get to the park. Left on Stewart. Right on Mill Run.
EVA: See, you’re figuring out strategies like the doctors said you would. One part of your brain will take over for the other part, just like they said. I’m so proud of you.
(She kisses him.)
BRIAN: Left on Stewart. Right on Mill Run. And then you see the swings swinging like bells chiming with the voices of children.
EVA: That’s beautiful, Brian. Remember you used to swing there.
BRIAN: Can I have my mending now, Mother?
EVA: You called me Mother. Did you hear? Did you hear that? Hon, you’re just getting better so fast since you’ve been back from the hospital. Who’s my darling boy? Who’s my darling boy?
BRIAN: Me? Me.
EVA: Yes, you. Remember that? It’s what I used to call you when you were actually a boy. Well, not just when you were a boy. I kind of never stopped and I never will stop. I love you so much.
BRIAN: Mouth says to let it give a kiss to this woman who says she is my mother who says she loves you.
EVA: Come on ahead.
(BRIAN gives his mother an inappropriately deep kiss.)
BRIAN: Can I have my mending now?
EVA: Wow, Bri, Wow. That was nice but not really the kind of kiss you’re supposed to give your mother.
BRIAN: My mouth made me do it.
EVA: Maybe your mouth is getting a little carried away. I know it’s helping you with strategies but you have to make it obey you too.
BRIAN: Mending is a strategy.
EVA: And what about Kim? Haven’t you two been kissing?
BRIAN: Once. One kiss. She said it was too intense like kissing your mind, like a kiss to your brain and from your brain, and just too intense.
EVA: I see what she means. Why don’t you give her a call?
BRIAN: No. She always sits on this side so she won’t have to look at this side. No. (He closes his eyes.) A squirrel chased a dog up a tree.
EVA: Excuse me.
BRIAN: It’s a lie. Squirrels don’t chase dogs. I’m lying again, Mother. (Eyes open)
EVA: That’s funny. That’s very funny, Sweetie.
BRIAN: Can I have my mending now?
EVA: What kind of dog was it?
BRIAN: I want my mending.
EVA: Please wait, Sweetie, please. We don’t want you to use it up yet?
BRIAN: Why?
EVA: You sew so fast? What happens when you run out?
BRIAN: You will take it apart at night. (Pause. Eyes closed.) A boy is sitting on another boy.
EVA: At the park?
BRIAN: Yes, at the park. Sitting on his chest, his knees pinning his arms down, hitting him in the face.
EVA: That’s good. I mean, that’s awful. What did you do?
BRIAN: (Eyes open) I didn’t do anything, like you said.
EVA: That’s good. That’s the best thing, for the time being. Were there other adults around?
BRIAN: No one did anything.
EVA: No one takes responsibility for anyone anymore. Not even for the children. They just let children keep fighting. What a world.
BRIAN: I’m not supposed to talk to anyone so I left. I didn’t want to see that anymore. So I left.
EVA: That’s good, dear.
BRIAN: No, it wasn’t. (Distraught) I didn’t do anything. I didn’t do anything. (Fiercely) Get me my mending right now!
EVA: Sure. Okay. Sure, I will.
(EVA unlocks closet and fetches a basket filled with bloodied, tattered army uniforms and gives it to her son. As EVA watches, BRIAN lifts one from the basket and begins to rhythmically sew it with needle and thread. The rhythm of sewing guides BRIAN’s speech.)
BRIAN: I live on a tropical island. It is beautiful during the day, the sea so blue, the sand so fine, the breeze just right. I sit on the beach, sewing patches over the holes flying embers from my fire burned into my uniform during the night. Sewing calms me, calms me down. And it is a beautiful rhythm of life on that island, mending during the day the damage of the night. Why do I even need a fire in the tropics, you ask? It’s so my friends can find me, my dead friends. There are five of them, squatting around the fire, watching me as I lay very still, pretending to be asleep or dead. Do they know that I am not dead like they are? Should I tell them? I am afraid to tell them, ashamed to tell them, ashamed I can’t even remember their names. But it is a beautiful rhythm of life on that island, mending during the beautiful day the damage caused by the night. I mend. I like to mend. I am mending. There will always be mending to do. It will take a very long time.
(BRIAN continues to sew. EVA watches. Slow fade to black.)
End of play
***
Steven Schutzman is a fiction writer, poet and playwright whose work has appeared in such journals as Masque and Spectacle, The Pushcart Prize, Alaska Quarterly Review, Night Picnic, I70 Review, Painted Bride Quarterly, TriQuarterly, and Gargoyle among many others. He is also a seven-time recipient of a Maryland State Arts Council Individual Artist Grant, awarded for creative writing excellence. Website: steveschutzman.com