PLAYHOUSE OF THE DAMNED

"Mother’s Day"

                                    by Richard Nathan 

The spotlight is up on our host, GUS THE GHOUL, while a chair is placed on the stage for the next story.  Gus speaks to the audience:

                                                            GUS THE GHOUL
                                    “M” is for the moldy thing she made me….
                                    That’s right.  It’s time for our Playhouse
                                    of the Damned tribute to mothers.  Some
                                    of you, in the audience, probably had a
                                    mother.  The rest of you, - not so much. 
                                    But I hope you all enjoy this story I call
                                    “Mother’s Day.” 

Gus exits.  Lights come up on the MOTHER seated in a chair.  Her son SAM enters.

                                                            SAM

                                    Mom?

 

                                                            MOTHER
                                    Uhhhhh

 

                                                            SAM
                                    Mom, it’s me.  Sam.

 

                                                            MOTHER
                                    Hurts.

 

                                                            SAM
                                    What hurts?

 

                                                            MOTHER
                                    Everything.

 

                                                            SAM
                                    Did you take your meds?

 

                                                            MOTHER
                                    What?

 

                                                            SAM
                                    Your meds.
  Pills.  Did you take your
                                    pills?

 

She looks in her hands.

 

                                                            MOTHER
                                    I don’t have any pills.  Do you have
                                    my pills?

 

                                                            SAM
                                    No.
  The nurses have your pills.

 

                                                            MOTHER
                                    Why do they have my pills?  They’re
                                    my pills.  They should give them to me.

 

                                                            SAM
                                    They do.  Three times a day.

 

                                                            MOTHER
                                    No.  No one gives me anything.

 

                                                            SAM

                                    Yes they do.  I’ve seen them give
                                    you your pills.

 

                                                            MOTHER
                                    You must be thinking of someone
                                    else.

 

                                                            SAM
                                    I don’t know anyone else here.

 

                                                            MOTHER
                                    Neither do I.  I don’t know
                                    anybody.  Do I know you?

 

                                                            SAM

                                    I’m you son.  Sam.

 

                                                            MOTHER
                                    I thought you were dead.

 

                                                            SAM
                                    No.
  I’m not dead.

 

                                                            MOTHER
                                    Are you sure?

 

                                                            SAM
                                    I’m sure.  I’m not dead.

 

                                                            MOTHER
                                    Am I dead?

 

                                                            SAM
                                    No, Mom.

 

                                                            MOTHER
                                    I didn’t think so.  I don’t think it
                                    hurts this much when you’re dead.

 

                                                            SAM
                                    If you’re in pain, they should give
                                    you something.

 

                                                            MOTHER
                                    No one gives me anything.  Everyone
                                    ignores me. 

 

                                                            SAM
                                    I don’t ignore you.  I visit you three times
                                    a week.  I always bring you something. 
                                    Today I brought you mints.  Your favorite  
                                    kind.
  Here.  Have a mint.

 

He offers her a mint.

 

                                                            MOTHER
                                    Is it poison?

 

                                                            SAM

                                    No!  Of course not!

                                   

                                                            MOTHER
                                    I hoped it was poison.

 

                                                            SAM
                                    Don’t say that.  Don’t you want
                                    to live?

 

                                                            MOTHER
                                    Not particularly.

 

                                                            SAM
                                    Look at how sunny it is out here!  The air’s
                                    so fresh.  Can you smell the flowers
                                    blooming?

 

                                                            MOTHER
                                    No.

 

                                                            SAM
                                    Do you feel the warmth of the
                                    sun on your face?

 

                                                            MOTHER
                                    All I feel is pain.

 

                                                            SAM
                                    I can’t believe they don’t do
                                    anything about that!  I can’t believe
                                    that they just let you suffer and
                                    don’t give you anything!

 

                                                            MOTHER
                                    You can’t believe it?

 

                                                            SAM
                                    No!  I can’t believe it!

 

                                                            MOTHER
                                    You’re kind of stupid, aren’t you?

 

                                                            SAM

                                    That’s a terrible thing to say to me.

 

                                                            MOTHER
                                    I say what I think.

 

                                                            SAM
                                    You don’t really think I’m stupid, do
                                    you?

 

                                                            MOTHER
                                    Maybe. 

 

                                                            SAM
                                    You hurt my feelings.

 

                                                            MOTHER
                                    What are you going to do, kill me?

 

                                                            SAM
                                    No!

 

                                                            MOTHER
                                    Why not?

 

                                                            SAM
                                    I love you.  You’re my mother.

 

                                                            MOTHER
                                    I am?

 

                                                            SAM
                                    Yes.  I’m your son.  Sam.

 

                                                            MOTHER
                                    I though you were dead.

 

                                                            SAM
                                    I  visit you three times a week.

 

                                                            MOTHER
                                    No one visits me.

 

                                                            SAM
                                    What do you think I’m doing
                                    here?

 

                                                            MOTHER
                                    I wish I knew.

 

Enter a NURSE.  She walks over to the Mother, paying no attention to Sam.         
           

                                                            NURSE
                                    Come on, Mrs. Burnstein.  Time
                                    to take your pills.

 

                                                            MOTHER
                                    That’s what he says.   

 

The Mother gestures toward Sam.  The Nurse looks, but sees nothing.                    

 

                                                            NURSE
                                    Who?

 

                                                            MOTHER
                                    My son, Sam.

 

                                                            NURSE
                                    Your son Sam passed away last
                                    year.

 

                                                            MOTHER
                                    That’s what I keep telling him.  But
                                    he won’t listen.  He’s not very bright.

 

 

Blackout.  Sam, the Mother and the Nurse exit.  A spotlight picks up GUS.

 

                                                            GUS
                                    I wonder, how many members of our
                                    audience are just figments of Mrs.
                                    Burnstein’s imagination.

                                                         

THE END

 

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© 2007 by Richard Nathan.  All rights reserved

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Send e-mail to the author at Richard-Nathan@att.net.