Reactions

A Play In Ten Minutes

by

dustin hansen

Copyright January 2000

AT RISE:

SHELLY sitting. FATHER standing, looming over her.

FATHER

Now I’m not trying to tell you what to do. I’m not trying to—to—to “control” you, Shelly. I just—

SHELLY

Yeah, well, you are.

FATHER

No, I just . . . I just want you to . . . to be . . . I’m just surprised at you, Shelly. I mean I’m just saying to myself . . . “What did we do wrong?” I mean, what did we do–where did we go wrong in raising you that—that you’d— . . . I just feel . . .

SHELLY

Dad, not everything I do has to do with you. I mean . . . I’m not you.

FATHER

No I know. But I just can’t help . . . I mean I think of you coming out of your mother’s body, and crying in the crib, and eating strained peas, and pooping, and giggling, and puking up in the middle of the night, and going to Sunday School with your little skirt on that Mom sewed for you, and falling off the jungle gym, and then I think about you with this—this—this syringe in your arm, Shelly, and—

SHELLY

Dad, you’re overreacting. I mean, it’s not like—

FATHER

No, I don’t think I am, Shelly. I think that once you get involved with this kind of, with these . . . “people,” that—well, that you’re going to . . . just . . . I mean there’s no telling what you might do, and so your mother and I, well, we’re . . .

(pause)

You look tired. Are you tired, Shelly?

SHELLY

Yes! Yes, I am tired. I’m tired of this. I’m tired of . . . everything.

FATHER

Well now I know. No, I do. I know just how you feel. I mean I’ve gone through difficult times, as you know, I’ve had my fair share of . . . problems. I mean I reached a point

FATHER (cont.)

there, I mean before . . . Well, you know, and I mean . . . you didn’t come home to find me hanging from a noose in the closet with my wrists slit and a bullet through my head, did you? No. And for that I’m grateful. Because there was a period when . . . I mean this is how we go on. This is why we’re a family, Shelly, and not a—a—a what? A commune, or an asylum or something.

(silence)

Now I know you’re not going to join a commune or something but I’m saying . . . I’m saying this is your life, Shelly. This is who you are, this is your future, and as your father I’d like to think that I’m entitled to . . . that I’m a part of that and that we can . . .

(pause)

You’re still my little baby, Shelly. You’ll always be my little baby. But if you can’t—

SHELLY

Look. Dad, I . . .

FATHER

What. You what, Shelly.

SHELLY

I . . . I . . .

(pause)

FATHER

What, you’re "not a child"? Is that what you’re—

SHELLY

That’s it! I mean, that’s right. I’m not a child, Dad. I’m not—I’m . . . I’m not . . .

(pause)

FATHER

What? "My baby"?

SHELLY

Yeah! I mean, No! I’m not. I’m not your little baby. Anymore.

FATHER

You know, just because you graduate high school doesn’t mean . . . When you have kids, you’ll—

SHELLY

I’m never having kids, Dad. I’ve told you that.

FATHER

Everybody says that. Now listen, you—

SHELLY

Everybody says a lot of things. But I’m not everyone.

FATHER

Would you just listen for a minute?

(silence)

All right. Now. In this world, there are . . . opportunities. For . . . There are certain . . . things, that—that you have to . . . Certain things are expected of you.

(silence)

I suppose you don’t care, but—

SHELLY

Yes! No! No, I don’t care, Dad.

FATHER

Well, now, but listen. It’s very easy to lose . . . to lose a sense of . . . You can’t lose sight of . . . You just gotta trust me on this, hon.

(silence)

Now I know you don’t like me calling you "hon," but—

SHELLY

Don’t call me "hon." I’m sick of it.

FATHER

But sweety, if you—

SHELLY

Do not call me sweety, Dad!

FATHER

Now I know, I know. But just listen: if you marry this, this . . . loser, then you’re just going to end up—

SHELLY

Fuck you, Dad! He is not a "loser"! Just because . . . just because he . . . he doesn’t have any money, and doesn’t . . . because he doesn’t . . .

(pause)

FATHER

For God’s sake, Shelly, just look at the car he drives.

SHELLY

Yeah! Well just cause he doesn’t drive a goddam Saab and wear a fucking faggot neck tie like some clone and talk about . . . about . . .

(pause)

FATHER

What. “Revenue”?

SHELLY

Yeah. That. About "revenue" and, and, and "interest bearing bombs" and "pork features" or whatever the fuck it is does not mean that—that he’s— . . . Just because . . .

(silence. SCOTT nervous.)

FATHER

Who do you think you are?

(Pause. DEBRA looks extremely tired yet also agitated—clearly cannot remember her line and wishes she didn’t care.)

Huh? Tell me. Just who in the hell, in Christ’s name, do you think you are?

(Silence. SCOTT begins to look more nervous, distracted, as he realizes. [From here on out he is inventing for the most part, trying to cover and adlib.])

SHELLY

That isn’t . . . This is not helping.

FATHER

You think you can just—I mean . . . ya know?

(pause)

Who do you think you’re kidding?

(pause)

Who do you think you’re talking to?

(silence)

Who do you think you are?

(silence)

SHELLY (whispering)

What is it?

(SCOTT tries to give her a silencing look, as if to say ‘Don’t whisper, they can hear you,’ without looking self-consciously at audience.)

SHELLY (whispering)

I don’t know it, Scott. What is it?

(pause)

Really.

(Pause. Aloud.)

I don’t know it.

(pause)

I’m sorry.

FATHER (trying to cover)

You think—you think just because—"Oh, now I’m 18, I’m an adult, I can do anything I please"?? That you’re "your own person"? So now nothing anybody else says counts? Huh?

(silence)

Is that what you think?

(pause)

That I’m not—that we’re no longer your parents?

(pause)

That you don’t have parents?

(silence)

SHELLY

Look, forget it. I can’t—

FATHER

Shut up! Listen! Think!

SHELLY

It’s no use, you can’t make me—

FATHER

That’s just your trouble, Shelly, you never fucking listen! You never think.

SHELLY (beginning to sob)

Leave me alone. I can’t remember. Just—

FATHER

Who are you, if you don’t have parents, Shelly? I mean . . . You know, if you don’t have parents, then—then . . . then ya know what that means? It means you were never born. And, and if you were never born then that means that—that—it means that you will never die.

SHELLY

Scott, what are you saying? Listen to yourself.

FATHER (hissing)

Shut up, Shelly.

SHELLY

My name is Debra.

FATHER (to self, quietly)

Shit.

(Pause. To her:)

Shelly, you’re going to have to—

SHELLY

Scott, seriously, I can’t—

FATHER

(Close to her, in whisper:)

Do not fucking break character.

SHELLY

Scott, it’s not—just forget it, O.K.? I can’t do it.

FATHER

Shelly, you’re going to have to—

SHELLY

Debra! My name—is Deb-er-ah!

FATHER (hissing)

Debra, shut the fuck up.

(aloud, in character:)

Shelly, you’re going to have to learn, one of these days, that—

SHELLY

Scott, this is pointless!

FATHER (hissing)

Do not fucking do this to me, Debra.

(aloud, in character:)

Shelly, do you remember . . . when you were little . . . and your mom and I—

SHELLY

(laughing through tears)

This is so terrible.

FATHER

(ignoring her, continues uninterrupted:)

—told you that even if you know what you want to do, or I mean think you know, that you can’t always do what you want to do? Do you remember that?

SHELLY

Scott, they’re not blind! You’re not fooling anyone!

FATHER

(ignoring her as before:)

And you said "Why?"? "Why not?"?

SHELLY

This is a joke.

FATHER

And I said, well, sweety—

SHELLY

And it’s not funny.

FATHER

—because that’s just the way it is.

(DEBRA is laughing and crying at once.)

Not everyone can just—"do"—just . . . whatever they want to. In fact, most people can’t do what they want. Almost no one. Almost never.

SHELLY (laughing hysterically)

That’s good! That’s pretty good! I’m just gonna . . . just . . . stand here.

(pause)

FATHER

"Why?" you said? And I said, "They just can’t." "But why? Why?" Even if they think they know what they might want to do, it’s just not possible— . . . just think if everyone could do just what they wanted to all the time. Just think! Just think what that would be like, Shelly.

(Pause. DEBRA laughs silently, her face contorted.)

Because—because in this world . . . well, there are rules, Shelly. And even if . . . even if you don’t . . exactly . . . even if you don’t know them, well, why, still, that doesn’t mean . . . it’s not your place to . . . to . . .

SHELLY

I don’t even have to say anything. I don’t even have to be here.

FATHER

Shut up, now.

(Silence. DEBRA’s laughter subsides.)

Shelly?

SHELLY (scoffs)

Jesus.

FATHER

Shelly, don’t—don’t talk like that. Now I’m your father, and I don’t—

SHELLY

Shut up! Fuck you! Are you listening to me? Huh? Am I even here? Are you Scott? Are you?! Fuck—You!

FATHER

Shelly,—

SHELLY

Deb-er-ah!

FATHER

Debra,—

SHELLY

I don’t—Know it! I—Can’t——Remember! Do you understand that, Fuckhead?! I don’t know it! And I’m not going to know it! I don’t know anything! I never have! I don’t know why I was cast, I don’t know why I’m here, I can’t remember anything, and I’m never going to! Not ever! EVER! EVER!

FATHER

Debra, don’t—

SHELLY

Don’t talk to me! Don’t look at me! Don’t tell me what to do, Scott! Who the fuck are you? Huh? Who the fuck are you, Scott? You are not my father! I’m not your slave! I’m not your puppet! You think, “Oh, now I’m Mr. Hotshot Director I can treat everyone like a—like a, a—like a goddam serf or something.

FATHER

A what?

SHELLY

I’m not cut out for this, Scott! I can’t—Do it! I’m no one, don’t you see that? How can I pretend to be someone when I’m no one? There is NO MOTIVATION! I’m never going to be ANYTHING! Can’t you SEE that? Everyone’s always trying to tell me what to do, and what not to do, and how to act! And “What will PEOPLE THINK?” and—and—and “How will they ‘REACT’?”!

(crying)

Why can’t I just be me? Why can’t I just be someone?

(long silence)

FATHER

Well now Shelly,—

 

SHELLY

Fuck you! Go—To—Hell!!

(Runs off, crying. [Suggestion: someone in the audience runs after her as though to console her.])

(Long silence. SCOTT looks off after her, unsure what to do. Finally, looks at audience, tries to smile.)

FATHER

Don’t worry.

(pause)

She’ll be back.

(silence)

I know her.

(pause)

And she wouldn’t do this.

(silence)

She wouldn’t do this to me.

(silence)

I’m . . . I’m her father.

(long silence)

All right.

(Looks off.)

All right then. Tell you what. Why don’t we . . . take . . . a brief—say, five—no, ten-minute intermission. O.K.? And then . . . Then we’ll . . .

(long silence)

(Without a word, SCOTT suddenly hurries off after her.)

(Stage empty for a very long time. Silence as uncomfortable as possible.)

(FADE)

(END OF PLAY)