Saturday, March 18, 2017

Monologue Mania Day #1130 Dinner With the Devil (with Momma) by Janet S. Tiger (c) Mar. 18, 2017

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Monologue Mania Day #1130 Dinner With the Devil by Janet S. Tiger (c) Mar. 18, 2017      
                                Dinner With the Devil (with Momma)                                    
                                                a monologue   by 
                                               by Janet S. Tiger (c) all rights reserved (c) 2017

                               

               (A man enters, he walks slowly, he is dressed in black, looks very much like an undertaker, probably because he is one.  He is carrying flowers, which he sets next to what we imagine to be a headstone, because that's what it is.  Then he removes his hat, which he holds carefully under one arm.)

Hello, Momma.  How are you doing, today?  (Thinks)  Probably the same as just about any day, I imagine.  You don't get to travel much, now do you?  (Thinks)  Or maybe you do, who knows?  Pastor Evans says the heat don't bother dead folks like it does the living, but I got to wonder about that.  If heat don't bother you folks when you're dead, what the hell is the purpose of hell?  I mean, if someone is goin to hell, wouldn't heat have to be an issue?

         (Tilts his head, listens, sighs)

I know I must be crazy, but I swear I can hear you sayin, (imitates mother)'Jimmy, you just think too much, that's your biggest problem.  Life is much easier if you don't think so damn much.'

        (Surprised)

I never heard you cuss before, Momma.  Maybe you already know what I'm here to talk about, who knows.  I like talkin to you Momma, better'n when you was alive.  We don't argue quite as much this way.

Yup, I'm here to talk about that funeral.  The two boys.  Very sad.  The whole town turned out, had to open the back doors and put up a canopy cover to keep em all from gettin the sunstroke.

Very sad.  Nice folks.  I don't care if their parents were not here legal,  no one deserves what happened to them. 

Which brings me to why I'm here.  I am not exactly sure what to do, so I thought I'd get your sage advice in this matter.

The mother, that'd be Mrs. Rodriguez, she asked to be alone with her boys one last time.  Of course I said, 'Take as long as you like, Mrs. Rodriguez' because I always give folks that last moment with their kin, and I left her be.  When I come back about an hour later, she was gone, and I went to adjust the coffins.....

          (Hangs his head, shakes it)

Two coffins in one family, very sad, I don't think I ever had to do that before that I recall.  Maybe Daddy told me about times when there was the influenza, but not like this.  This was bad.
And she can't have any more children neither.

Sad.

So I notice that she must've touched the boys a bit - that's not unusual, you remember.  The family ususally wants one last touch......

And I didn't think nothin of it until I went to move the coffins to the parlor for the viewin, and when I lifted the coffin to adjust it, I heard somethin shift.  I went to look, because sometimes people put in somethin extra, a book, a Bible usually, a toy when it's children like that......I just wanted to see what it was, and make sure it was secure, so it wouldn't roll around when we lifted the coffins.  No one likes to hear noises from inside those things, do they?

              (He walks around the headstone)

So I looked, and in the younger boy's coffin was a Bible, just like I thought.  And I made sure it would not move around.

Bibles are good things for the other side I imagine, that's why we put one in  with you, Momma.  I wonder if you read it, or if you don't have to......whether you know all the things in it, without knowin why........

              (He shakes himself off)

Okay, Momma, I'll get to it.

So I check out the older boy, Jose, his name was.  Nice kid, very polite.  English was good too.

           (He takes a deep breath, illustrates by taking his hand and reaching, pulling out his arm and looking in horror.)

And I find a gun.  And I know right away what that gun was used for......to kill the man who drunk drove his truck into those two boys.  You see, the police never found that gun, and that was a big thing  but I now knew where it was.

And I also knew Jorge didn't do it, he just ain't that kinda man.  But his wife, now, she's a steely one, you woulda liked her, Momma.

          (Listens)

Okay, okay, I'm gettin there.  Pastor Evans tells us we all gonna be eatin dinner with the devil if we do bad things, but I dunno, how bad could dinner be after I been eatin' Amaleen's godawful cookin for, is it 36 years?, I think mebbe a dinner with the devil might be tastier.

          (Sighs)

Did I do somethin wrong?   Yeah, I know it was illegal to keep back that evidence, but, I ....I just couldn't do it.   Why not you ask?  I am not totally sure.  How much punishment does one person need?  Wasn't losing their only two children enough?  I know only Jesus can be the judge, and I shoulda told about that gun, and all right, yes, I guess, momma, you always could figure these things out, (getting loud) yes, I know it was wrong!

        (He is very affected by this, and shakes his whole body as if there was rain on him.)

Whew......I suppose that's why I keep on comin out here to talk with you, Momma, you always was good at figurin things out........Guess it's time to head back.  Everyone sends their love.  I'll bring the grandkids out next year, when they're a bit older.    Sleep tight, Momma, (laughs) don't let the bedbugs bite!

        (He turns to leave, stops, looks back)
        
I guess there was one thing I forgot to ask you.......if I'm so wrong.......why don't I feel guilty?

       (He stares at the headstone, then puts his hat back on and walks slowly off.   As he leaves, a woman is seen now, watching him walk off, then going to the 'headstone'.  She leans over, shakes her head)


MOMMA -  You bought flowers. You paid for flowers for me. (Amazed)  You could take some of the flowers outta the ones for the other folk, put a couple here on my grave, make it look like somebody cares, I mean who would notice a few missin' flowers?  But no, you just too honest, boy.  Won't take a flower, won't remove the watches, or the money they put in.....you didn't learn nothin' from your Daddy, didja?  How many times did you hear him tell ya, where they're goin', no need for a gold watch, or fifty dollars.  No need for the Bibles either, but who the hell needs another Bible in this town?  You throw a stone you hit a Bible!  Must be more Bibles than people in River Bend!

        (She picks up a 'stone' and tries to throw it.  Shakes her head again)

Nothin', can't pick up nothin' when you're dead.  But I can hear, and I can see, and it's funny in a way, how you can see it all from this side of the grave.  How my boy, even though he had nothin' to do with any of this, ceptin he buried the dead, well, he's gonna be part of it.  Because he does a good job.  Didn't want anything rattlin' around in the coffin.....the dead gotta be good and quiet.....

        (She turns to leave, stops and looks back)

Or maybe just....quiet.....the good we'll leave to Jesus to sort out....won't we?

         (She leaves laughing at her own joke.   Lights down)


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