Thursday, August 28, 2014

Monologue Mania Day # 197 by Janet S. Tiger Breakfast With the Devil Aug.28, 2014


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Monologue Mania Day # 197 by Janet S. Tiger   Breakfast With the Devil Aug.28, 2014

                          Breakfast With The Devil
                                         A monologue by Janet S. Tiger   © all rights reserved
                                                     tigerteam1@gmail.com 

                  (Hispanic woman comes on stage, she is perhaps in her late thirties, slight accent, she is calm.  She crosses herself) 

Forgive me father, for I have sinned......it has been,  how long?  Over one year since my last confession.  I just couldn't come after they arrested my husband.  It was too hard, too many things.  First the funerals, then the arrest.  No, I had a lot of doubts this year.

        (She listens)

Yes, father, we are the family in the newspaper.

The trial is over.  That is why I come to see you now.   I knew they would not convict my husband ...... There are good things to living in a small town…….these are our friends on the jury.  

 They knew he could not kill that man even though that man killed my sons…even though that man was drunk, my Jorge is not a killer.

       (She remembers, her eyes seeing that day)

My sons were helping my husband right in front of our house, unloading the car of the groceries from the Home Depot, so they could plant the garden for me this year.  They were old enough now to help, to dig, to work hard.   Peppers, three different kinds……one caliente….very hot, another mild……some cilantro……a rose bush because I like roses…….they are pretty…..

        (She takes a deep breath)

My only sons.  Jose was only 10,  his brother only 7.  They were good boys... they were helping their father.

The man who killed them was not a good man ....my husband was horrified.... the car hit them so fast  they were dead  before the ambulance came ......we had to have ..(hard to say) … closed coffins.....

        (She takes out a handkerchief and blows her nose.)

But shooting the drunk man that killed our sons, that my husband did not do.

The police said it was him, but I knew it was not him.   They tested him for gunpowder, it was no gunpowder on him and there was no gun.  They never found the gun.

That man that kill my boys was not a good man.  Many people might want him to be dead.

He had accidents before this, he was drunk many times.  But still he drives, still he drinks.

How many more good children would he have killed?  I am not sad he is dead, I do not cry for him…..

        (She looks and nods.)

What if he was drunk again, and driving near your city……would he have killed your brother, your sister?  Their children?

I am glad that man is dead.  My husband is a free man now...... it only took the jury a few hours to decide because they know he would never kill anyone.

How do I know that?   Because I shot that man. 

        (She listens)

But I was raised to come to you, father, so I accuse myself....... of killing a bad man.   I kill that bad man and if I did the wrong thing then I will be having breakfast with the devil someday.

        (She listens, then stands up to leave.  Turns back.)

Thank you father.   I also accuse myself of lying to the police.  I did know where the gun was.  I put it in one of the coffins.

       (She crosses herself as she leaves.  The end.)

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Janet S. Tiger    858-736-6315
Member Dramatists Guild since 1983
Playwright-in-Residence
Swedenborg Hall 2006-8
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