- for a whole year!
Note: A few words about 'free' - all these monologues are protected under copyright law and are free to read, free to perform and video as long as no money is charged. Once you charge admission or a donation, or include my work in an anthology, you need to contact me for royalty info.
If you just started this blog and want to read the earlier monologues, please
scroll down for the previous days or go to http://www.monologuestore.com/ -click on the Monologue Mania button please scroll down.
To start at the beginning - Feb. 13, - click here.
For a list of the blurbs from each day, click here
Help a playwright and get more great award-winning monologues - MonologueZone.com
Thank you for your comments - and for liking and sharing this site ---------------------------------------------------------------------------
Note: A few words about 'free' - all these monologues are protected under copyright law and are free to read, free to perform and video as long as no money is charged. Once you charge admission or a donation, or include my work in an anthology, you need to contact me for royalty info.
If you just started this blog and want to read the earlier monologues, please
scroll down for the previous days or go to http://www.monologuestore.com/ -click on the Monologue Mania button please scroll down.
To start at the beginning - Feb. 13, - click here.
For a list of the blurbs from each day, click here
Help a playwright and get more great award-winning monologues - MonologueZone.com
Thank you for your comments - and for liking and sharing this site ---------------------------------------------------------------------------
Monologue Mania Day #
207 by Janet S. Tiger The Devil Speaks Sept. 7, 2014
Note - This monologue is the response to
Day # 206, Interview with the Devil Sept. 6, 2014
The Devil
Speaks
A monologue by Janet S. Tiger © all rights reserved
tigerteam1@gmail.com
(The reporter, Diane Walter, listens as the sheriff speaks, and then takes a
cigarette and lights it, smiling)
Well, Sheriff, I am
impressed. Sometimes I forget that people can put me under a microscope,
maybe because no one ever does.
(She puts her head back and starts to laugh, coughing a bit as she does.)
But you have, and you have done a
damned good job....for a sheriff. And as
for being the devil, why do you think I wore this blue dress?
(They laugh together, and she reaches
over to touch his hand.)
Did you, by any chance, find out
anything about my childhood, too?
Wait, don't tell me, it was hard to
find. Well, that is a bit intentional, too. I really don't like
people knowing too much about me.
But you are right, this is not my
usual story interest. And I truly doubt if the family-type publications I
usually sell to will have any interest in this story....so I may have to peddle
it to a bigger place, the New Yorker, for example. I will give them the
chance to turn me down yet again.
That's not answering your question,
though, is it? What brought me here? All right, after saving my
life, or at least my possessions, I think you've earned the right to know a bit
more about Diane Walters.
No, my real name is Walters, which
is perhaps why you found it hard to find some of my past. Even on Google,
spelling sometimes counts.
My father was killed when I was
fifteen.....
(She nods)
I’m sure you found that, didn't
you? Simple story. It was foggy,
he was out late, drinking.....A car ran him over, and he died. He was a
decent guy, not much in the way of compliments, but he loved me, and I knew
that.
Funny thing about death, sometimes
it makes life suddenly clearer, like when the optometrist adjusts one little thing, and everything up on
the wall comes into focus.
It wasn't hit 'n run, the man
stopped, he was not charged because ......
(Takes a deep breath, hard to say)
My Dad had on dark clothing, so it
was hard to see him.....with the fog and all. And my Dad was a little
tipsy.....so he probably wasn't as alert. Very clearly….an accident. Nothing to investigate, nothing to wonder
about.
(Takes another draw on the cigarette.)
But I had a feeling, a funny feeling
....from the very beginning, when I saw my mother and the police
officers. I mean, she did cry, and she was upset, it was all
very....normal. But for me, there was a
strange note about it, like she was acting.
The man who hit my Dad, who ran him
over, he was a stranger. My Mom had never met him before.....but he was
nice, and after a respectable amount of time, they started dating, and....they
got married.
I graduated and left home to go to
journalism school at Hunter......and I wondered. Did he know her from
before the accident? Why would I think
this? Was there anything concrete? Anything I had heard or seen? I never understood why I wondered, but I did
wonder why I never did any research. I suppose, I didn't really want to
know.
(Crushes out the stub)
So when I saw the article in the
paper about the poor Rodriguez family.....yes, I do read a lot of weird papers
because I never know where I'll get a good idea.......when I saw this, I
knew. Just like you are sure it's Jorge, I'm sure it wasn't him that
pulled the trigger. I spoke with Jorge, and this man is not a
killer.
(Holds up her hand)
Now, you could be right about him
knowing who it was, but I am putting my money…… on his wife. I will bet
good money she knows everything, including where that gun is.......and I'm just
as sure she had nothing to do with someone trying to burn out my motel
room.
But murder, she knows that.
She won't talk to me much, even with an interpreter.......and that is a tip
off. People who don't want to talk, are afraid of what they'll
say...which is why I'm gonna shut up now, Sheriff, before I say something I
will regret tomorrow.
(She stands up, takes her purse.)
But I will take you up on that kind
offer to stay at your house for tonight. I really do not want to go home
to that motel.....not for a day or two.
(She
tilts her head to listen then laughs)
I said I didn't want to say
something I would regret - but I certainly don't mind doing things I
regret! That's why I have had such a memorable life.....
(She
takes the sheriff's hat and puts it on her head, then takes his hand and they
exit. End of scene)
--------------------------------------
Janet
S. Tiger 858-736-6315
Member
Dramatists Guild since 1983
Playwright-in-Residence
Swedenborg
Hall 2006-8
----------------------------------------------
No comments:
Post a Comment