Works-in-Progress

Mudskipper #1 and #2, Aquarium of the Pacific, Long Beach, August 2008.

"The journey is the thing". Writers understand that as well as anyone. So - here are a few projects I'm currently working on:

HOW TO KILL A BOY! (full length) - a dark comedy. This is the project I'm concentrating on completing first. I can't really go into this one right now - it's a secret ("Everybody has secrets, Mummy. Don't you?"). Suffice it to say, the premise has people laughing their asses off. Think the movie VERY BAD THINGS meets HOME ALONE - then put it on stage. 4M, 2W (1W plays multiple parts)

THE EXONERATION OF D. E. S (full length) - a historical courtroom drama. D.E.S are the initials for my protagonist - or is he the antagonist? This politician murdered his wife's lover (the son of a very, very famous man that you would recognize) and was acquitted when he plead not guilty by reason of temporary insanity - a first in American jurisprudence. (Many, many parts)

THE METAMORPHOSES OF AN ASHCAN (or The Dominican, a Satyr and Nymph, Two Vaudevillians and a Clown Discuss Matters of Substance Over Goat Cheese and Tea) (full length) - The characters in four realism paintings come to life in a surrealistic setting, butt heads and are changed forever. (4M, 2W)

Two plays on Frank Lloyd Wright. One is a straight play based on Wright's relationship with Edward Kaufmann, the soon-to-be owner of Fallingwater. The other is a musical based on Wright's life. Wright's from Wisconsin. I'm from Wisconsin. And I love his work - well, most of it anyway (not the California textile block stuff). Read more!

"Reveille!"

Inspired by Ken Burns’ The Civil War and A.R. Gurney’s Pulitzer Prize for Drama nominated, “Love Letters”, two women in 1862 Virginia strive to maintain a “normal” existence, one in which their perspective on each other is as different as their perspectives on the war itself.

While Catherin - the utilitarian, older woman - manages the day-to-day life on the farm, Amanda fancies herself a writer. Between Amanda's letters to her beau, Dowd, who is off fighting the Yankees, Dowd's letters to Amanda, and Amanda's diary entries (and a healthy spritz of Walt Whitman and Catherin's temperament), a story is weaved that encompasses the thoughts and desires of both Amanda and Dowd - and Catherin, concerning the war, love and life, in general...a story unlike any Civil War tale you've ever heard.

REVEILLE! is a one-act play, the the third in the erotic trilogy, AMOR NO FLUXO (Love in Flux). The other shorts are “PASS THE SALT, PLEASE.” and 4 ½ MINUTES (give or take) TO CLIMAX.
ONE ACT (2W)

NEW! *Official Entrant, Attic Theatre One-Act Marathon, Los Angeles, CA, January 2009; Zoetrope All-Story, September 2008.

"I really liked what I read...Your character development was great. I am not an expert on giving advice on plays...I can tell you if I liked it or I didn't...I think people will have a positive response." - Amy Svoboda, interior designer, Chicago, IL

"Quite lovely...slow-paced but completely appropriate for the time period. And wonderfully poetic." - Val Grant, screenwriter and graphic designer, Los Angeles, CA

"Great one-act. Compelling story, authentic, engaging characters. Surprising ending that felt right, and felt organic to the story. Strong writing all the way around." - Vicki Letizia, producer, Peabody recipient, VP, Development, PorchLight Entertainment, Los Angeles, CA

"I finished your play this morning, and it was so moving. Really...I love the storyline, the setting, the characters are so well conceived. I loved the transition you made from Amanda's love for Dowd becoming realized with Catherine. Wow! I can't believe as a man, you were able to capture two women like that. The conversations were natural and some of it reminded me of how my sister and I talk. I adored the Whitman quotes. I shed a few tears Jeff, reading the last letter Amanda reads." - Katie Anderson, writer, visual artist, member of Inked-In.com, poet, Kokomo, IN"Reveille!"

A One Act Play (excerpt)
by Jeffrey James Ircink

© Copyright September 2007, Jeffrey James Ircink
4745 saint nicholas avenue
culver city, ca 90230
c: (262) 806-2808
w: (310) 477-8400
weakknees@gbpackersfan.com
irc_64@hotmail.com
February 2008

Cast of Characters

Catherin (Older Woman): 32-38

Amanda (Younger Woman): 24-30


ACT I, SCENE 1

(August. 1862. Evening. Somewhere in the Shenandoah Valley of Northern Virginia. The Civil War is in its second year. AMANDA, 25, is sitting at a long table in the living room of a modest farm home - alone. She is wearing the best dress she owns. Throughout the play, another woman - CATHERIN - enters and exits the room. She is eight years older and plays a utilitarian role, busying herself with the day-to-day routines associated with the house and property. With pen in hand, AMANDA reads from a letter she is writing.)

AMANDA
"I arose early this morning, fed the ducks which number around 30, looked over the fields and the garden and gathered some watermelon, say two or three for the day, of which we have a handsome sprinkle and a second growth on the vines. I came in and washed up and had some light breakfast - a roll of bread and fresh butter with a cup of coffee. Then I walked into town to do some shopping and listened to talk of the war and other gossip, including the elections which seem to have the whole town churning about like a beehive. I returned home after deciding war news frightens me so and had dinner – today it was pork, a little batterbread of sweet corn meal, some fresh butter and plenty of good buttermilk. We usually save the pork for special occasions, though I don’t recollect what that special occasion was today. I am thankfully full for which I praise the good Lord. I read some poetry from Godey’s Ladies Book then took a nap for an hour."
(CATHERIN enters from outside, carrying a watermelon, and goes directly into the kitchen to clean it. She is dressed in work clothes. AMANDA looks up, then continues reading her letter.)
"I awoke refreshed and went for a long walk down the lane...at least it seemed long for me. It was still fairly warm outside as I noticed beads of sweat forming on my brow and I had to wipe my face often. It was a clear, beautiful day – clearer than I remember for some time. And quiet – like it used to be before the war. Noticing it was getting late in the day, I started for home, where I ate some fresh raspberries and currents and some leftover cornmeal. I spent the rest of the evening delighting myself by catching up on a particular serial story in Godey’s about a woman who believes her husband has been killed fighting the Yankees and is courted by a country gentleman; however, it all spells disaster as her husband, who turns out to be very much alive, receives a week’s furlough and returns home to find his wife with another man – the country gentleman - who just so happens to be his brother. I will not spoil the ending – in case you happen upon a copy of Godey’s yourself – but I will say thank the Lord and Robert E. Lee that there is still honor left in the South."
(AMANDA glances up at CATHERIN, who is slicing open the watermelon. She reads as she writes.)
"I cut up the watermelon I gathered from the garden and found it to be the sweetest I had ever tasted. As sweet as sweet can be."
(AMANDA continues writing in silence. Then she reads out loud what she has just written.)
"So sweet, as a matter of fact, that I’m beginning to feel tired – probably from fretting over that poor Yankee woman in the Godey serial. Though she and I are on opposite sides of the fence when it comes to the war, we are women, and therefore, I empathize with her misfortunes. I think I shall turn in. I haven’t slept a full night in months. These are the days - "

CATHERIN
Who are you writing about?

AMANDA
Myself.

CATHERIN
Sure about that?

AMANDA
‘Course I’m sure. Who else would I be writing about? I’m submitting a story for publication in Godey’s Ladies Book. They’re asking readers to, ‘tell us about your typical day’, in 500 words or less. So – that’s what I’m doing. I’m writing about my typical day.

CATHERIN
Then it must’ve slipped your mind that I’m the one who picked the watermelon and prepares the meals and goes into town for supplies. I do the milking and chase after the cows in the middle of the night when they get through the fence. I do the sewing and the ironing and the cooking and the laundry –

AMANDA
Alright, alright.
(AMANDA gets up, walks into the kitchen and pours herself a drink. She has a brace on her leg and walks with a slight limp.)
I help fold the laundry.

CATHERIN
Where I really need your help is scrubbing the laundry. Anyone can fold.

AMANDA
Not everyone can fold properly. Besides, I have weak elbows. Doc Clemens said so. And I never said I prepared the meals – only that I ate them. Besides...if I’m going to be a writer someday, I have to learn to embellish. I plan to write fiction, you know. Real life isn’t nearly as excitin’ as embellished life.

CATHERIN
Not the real life we’re living in. Not today, leastwise.
(Beat)
How many words did you say?

AMANDA
500.

CATHERIN
You gonna have enough to go on about?

AMANDA
500 or less.
(Beat)
I detect a jibe in your query.

CATHERIN
The jibe is in those words you’re putting to paper.

AMANDA
Oh go on. You’re just jealous because Godey’s Ladies Book didn’t ask you to submit a story, that’s all.

CATHERIN
I think it’s wonderful Godey’s ran an ad inviting all its readers to send in a story.

AMANDA
How would you know? You never read Godey’s so how would you know the first thing about it?

CATHERIN
(Somewhat irate – she’s heard this before.)
Godey’s Ladies Book is a prissy piece of trash for passin’ time and nothing more. Why, any soul in his right mind would pay good money for the paper it’s printed on just so he – or she – could have something fittin’ to use in the washroom. And I am not referring to washing one’s hands either.

AMANDA
Well that’s peculiar talk coming from a lady. I don’t recall the last time I’ve heard such vulgarity spoken in our home.
(Beat)
I say Godey’s is not a luxury but a necessity. With its helpful hints and its patterns and needle-work and instructions in housekeeping – why we save twice the price we pay for it in less than a few months.

CATHERIN
Anything I’d write would put to shame 99% of the gibberish in that rag – if I had the inclination...or the time.

AMANDA
Then why don’t you submit a story?

(Once she has finished slicing the watermelon, CATHERIN begins ironing.)

CATHERIN
The world is an unhappy place, Amanda. My demeanor would have to be on a higher plain for me to even consider the task of sitting down to write – Godey’s or otherwise.

AMANDA
Well if the world were in a better place, what would you write about then?
(Beat)
Oh, come on. Don’t be such a sour puss. Tell me.

CATHERIN
I don’t know.
(Reflecting.)
I suppose I’d write about living here in the valley – before the war...when even the faintest breeze blows in the smell of sassafras blossoms from a mile away and the mockingbirds swoop down on anyone who gets close to their nest – which they do without reservation because everyone knows you’re never to kill a mockingbird and the mockingbirds know it, too.
(She stops ironing.)
I’d write about how that dog of yours slouches around so much so you’d think she were dead to the world –

AMANDA
Don’t talk unkindly about Molly. She’s never ever even hurt a flea.

CATHERIN
- except for when she nips at the honey bees flying about her head.
(Beat)
Or I’d write about the farm, and how you’re scared of feeding the chickens and how one day –

AMANDA
I am not!

CATHERIN
You are too – and quit interrupting me. And how one day you proposed we eat the Rhode Island Red and Plymouth Rock chickens as they most certainly were Yankee-bred and would do irreparable harm to a Southerner’s palate. I’d tell of midnight walks along 4 ¼ Mile Road, lit up by the slightest sliver of a moon – like a postcard...where you can hear the rippling and splashing of Little Mountain Run in the dark as she snakes down and around through the Shenandoah Valley, and the horned owl joins the bullfrog and the crickets in a symphony that only God could compose. Or the lonesome whistle of the Blue Ridge Railway...clickety-clackety – reminding me there’s a world to explore beyond this valley. I’d write how exhausted I am after drinking it all in and how I’m able to get a full night’s sleep and wake up refreshed, ready to experience it all over again.
(Beat)
Not like now...where the world’s filled with nothing but the suffering because of some men’s war. Not like now when I worry that soldiers might steal off with the horses in the middle of the night or that I might awaken to a rifle barrel stuck in my gut – or worse.
(Beat)
Oh I smell sassafras occasionally. And I’m not saying the crickets have stopped chirping all together. But it’s –
(Beat)
– everything I cherish about this place has been smothered by war. The trains bring men into town, filling our streets with blue troops and gray troops marching off to fight and kill one another. The air is filled with smoke and fire. The Yankees’ blockade stopped Little Mountain Run from rippling and splashing. How many people have we known moved away or killed? This simple life of ours which I derived so much joy is no more.
(Beat)
I used to enjoy the rain – a steady, long, slow rain. It washed the earth clean and made everything smell reborn...new – like fresh laundry brought in outta the sun and the wind. The only rain that falls now brings with it the stench of death and the streets run with the blood of young men who are lost forever. And I’m afraid that everything will change and I’ll forget what it was like.
(Sheepishly.)
I didn’t mean to ramble.
(Beat. She goes back to ironing.)
That’s what I’d write about. The way things used to be. Our reality is the war. What joy would there be in writing about that?

AMANDA
Well I’m fairly certain that’s not the slant Godey’s is aspiring it’s readers to write about – all that blood and guts and such. I, for one, choose to concentrate on the positive aspects of the day. War or no war.

CATHERIN
Why don’t you write about that boy you’re always talking about? What’s his name – Dowd? You two write back and forth enough – I’m sure there’s plenty of inspiration in those letters.

AMANDA
He’s in love with me – did I tell you that? Yes...I’m not entirely sure to what degree I reciprocate those feelings. I feel something for him, though I’m not for certain if it’s real love or just an infatuation. You remember him, don’t you, Catherin? He lived in the next county over. His father bought and sold horses before the war. I think he’s a zillionaire now after selling horses to the army. Makes no never mind to me. I’m not interested in Dowd’s fortune. Just in Dowd - maybe.

CATHERIN
Well whatever you write about I’m quite certain you’ll be optimistic for both of us. Maybe something good will come of it.

AMANDA
Godey’s Ladies Book publishing my story would be good for starters.
(She goes back to writing. Beat.)
Sounds like a storybook – all that...fluff you were talking about. You came up with all that on your own?

CATHERIN
It wasn’t difficult. I’ve lived it all my life. So have you...or did you already forget?

AMANDA
I didn’t forget.
(Beat)
“Sassafras blossoms”. I like that. May I use it in my narration? For Godey’s?

CATHERIN
Not too much fluff for you, I hope.

(AMANDA rises, walks over to a hope chest and opens it.)

AMANDA
I need to be more diligent in keeping up my diary.
(She removes a small, leather bound book and returns to the table.)
It’s not a daily diary if I don’t write in it everyday, is it now? You could help me by reminding me every once in a while – when you’re not too busy.
(She opens the diary and a VO is heard of AMANDA reading from it. CATHERIN continues ironing.)

AMANDA(VO)
Diary Entry - August 16, 1862. Dear Diary. This whole agitation about slavery is the most monstrous humbug since the flood. It is my full belief that the infatuation which has precipitated the North into this war is a judgment from God.

Isn’t it plain to them – them being the abolitionists and the Yankees – that our President Davis is a simple, consistent Christian, and a member of the Episcopal Church, and generally and joyfully observed? I believe we are lucky to have civil and military leaders who acknowledge God. The Commander-in-Chief of our armies, Robert E. Lee -

(The VO fades as AMANDA sets her pen down and continues reading aloud. Overlap with VO.)
- who is an elder in the Presbyterian Church in Lexington and is said to be a Christian of the same stamp as Jefferson Davis and Stonewall Jackson sent a special request via the newspapers calling upon the ladies everywhere to unite in support of prayer for peace.

(She closes her diary, sets her head down and falls asleep. LIGHTS FADE. LIGHTS UP. Late morning. AMANDA is sitting in a chair next to the window. She’s reading a letter.)

AMANDA
August 18, 1862. Dear Amanda. A steady rain fell all day. It’s evening now and the rain has stopped. It is quiet. Seems like it’s only been a few days since the fighting nearby commenced at Cedar Mountain. Battles inevitably bring rain, at least I am told that’s what most soldiers believe. Or maybe it’s the other way around. If Stonewall Jackson keeps delivering one victory upon another, I will pray for a flood a hundred times the size of Noah’s so this war may come to an end.

Your fervor and zeal regarding the South’s involvement in the war is admirable, and yet I can’t help but think it is misdirected love. Maybe all of us are misdirected, misinformed and misplaced. War brings misery and this past year, seeing our world in this terrible upheaval, has been an unpleasant experience for me. I suppose it is natural to take sides – to cheer the South and hate the North, to wish our Rebel boys well and spit at the feet of the Yankees. To join in the fray saying, “Preserve state’s rights and leave us our slaves!”. That would seem to be the proper thing to do as sons and daughters of the Old South, and yet is it the moral thing? I’m at a loss to make sense of this entire, abhorrent affair.

Listen to me...going on like a politician or a preacher. My dearest, sweet Amanda. I pray that this will all be over soon. I don’t know how much more our country can take. This letter is short – I know. We are pulling out tomorrow but to where I do not know. I will write more when we get situated. All my love. Yours. Dowd.

(AMANDA moves from the chair to the table and continues writing a letter she has started. CATHERIN enters from the bedroom.)

CATHERIN
I’m going into town for a while, Amanda. I’ll be back before dark.

AMANDA
Are you stopping by the store?

CATHERIN
I am. We’re almost out of coffee, bacon, flour, sugar –

AMANDA
Would you see if they have some licorice candy drops?

CATHERIN
- and I need nails and new wrench...if Mr. Van Ells will let me put them on credit.

AMANDA
Oh-h please?
(Beat)
Fine. I just thought it would nice for a change to have some luxuries in the house, that’s all.

CATHERIN
You’ll have to forgive me, Amanda, if I’ve forgotten what luxuries are.

(CATHERIN exits. AMANDA reads from a letter.)

AMANDA
August 29, 1862. Dear Dowd. I’m fully aware that you feel my opinions are based on nothing more than emotion and an idealized viewpoint of the South. If my “superficial” views on the war or my levity towards it are bothersome to you, do not take it personally.

With that in mind, I can’t help but wonder how none of this might have happened had Mr. Lincoln not been elected and allowed to let his anti-slavery rhetoric rile the nation into jumping headfirst into this bloodbath. Honestly, if that man and his politician cohorts would have kept their opinion to themselves, the North and South would be left to live free of each other and we wouldn’t be having this conversation. What are the people in Yankeedom thinking – hugging the delusion that Richmond will soon be theirs? We shall achieve our independence, and if guided right, shall be far more prosperous than ever before. Never could I for one moment believe that a righteous God would suffer us to be trodden down like the mud in the streets.

By the way, did you hear about the schooner, Minna, which was attempting to run the Yankee blockade? Well I declare, Dowd...those nasty Yankees stole the ship and absconded with 10,000 testaments. What good does anyone suppose those Bibles will do the Yankee soldiers? Will the blessing of God attend stolen goods? Nothing has aroused my indignation so much for a long time - taking the bread of life out of the mouths of our famished soldiers, and giving it to profane creatures who won’t even read a verse or a psalm.

Walt Whitman says, ‘The pervading sentiment or lesson is to be that the only good of learning the theory of the fluency and generosity and unpartiality, largeness and exactitude
of the earth is to use all those toward the theory of character – human character.’ I’m not sure exactly what that all means, but I’m sure that whatever Mr. Whitman’s point is, the North should heed it.

*“This Is the Earth’s Word” from "Poem of The Sayers of The Words of The Earth," by Walt Whitman, Leaves of Grass, 1856.

I don’t know how I’ll be able to fall asleep tonight now that I am riled up inside. Well, I have been neglecting my diary terribly and I have much catching up to do – so much has happened and if I wait any longer I most certainly will forget everything I have ruminating inside my head. I will close here and say goodbye, dearest Dowd, and I am hoping to hear from you soon. I am ever yours sincerely. Amanda.

(LIGHTS FADE.)

ACT I, SCENE 2

(LIGHTS UP. Afternoon. AMANDA sits on a chair and stares out the window, sipping a glass of tea. A couple beats later, CATHERIN enters with a basket of laundry. She sits down and begins folding. AMANDA glances over at CATHERIN, then stares out the window. LIGHTS FADE.)

ACT I, SCENE 3

(LIGHTS UP. Early evening. AMANDA, alone, sits by the fireplace. CATHERIN enters from outside.)

CATHERIN
This was waiting for you at the store.

(Hands a letter to AMANDA.)

AMANDA
Goodness gracious. I don’t know what I’d do without Dowd’s letters.
(CATHERIN tosses a bag next to AMANDA.)
And licorice candy drops!
(CATHERIN unpacks groceries while AMANDA reads the letter.)
September 19, 1862. My dear Amanda. I was saddened when I heard how a Yankee patrol had somehow gotten lost and ransacked Bishop Van Duren’s home and property in
Winchester – and just a few weeks after he had passed away. Can you believe he was bishop of the diocese of Virginia for more than 30 years? I remember him as a child - he was one of the meekest and most Godly of men among the Episcopal clergy, if ever there was one. My brother and I would make frequent trips to his home with my mother and father for lemonade and fruit cakes. His home was embellished with the finest fruits and flowers. Our visits were always a treat and it wasn’t unusual for our parents to have to drag us home. My mother said that on his deathbed the Bishop said the cause in which we are engaged is a holy one.

Do not be uneasy when you do not hear from me, my mind is in a million places at once. Your diligence in writing me is appreciated and I hope to reciprocate with a whole package of letters in the next few months. I would give anything to spend time with you in a world without this war.

Goodbye and a thousand kisses to my own sweet, Amanda, for the present. As ever your devoted. Dowd.

(AMANDA closes her diary and exits. CATHERIN enters and sees AMANDA’S diary on the chair. She looks around and picks up it up. She opens the diary and reads aloud.)

CATHERIN
Diary Entry - September 9, 1862. Dear Diary. The 28th, 29th and 30th of August the second battle of Manassas took place. At this battle Col. William Baylor was killed, leaving a heartbroken wife and mother and sister to mourn his loss. James Mullen was also killed in this battle. His brother John was wounded before but died after and was brought home to be buried.

On the 10th, little Mary Bentley died of diphtheria. On the 20th, David Bentley died of the same disease at the age of twelve. If it’s not the war that’s causing death, it’s the things the war brings. So sad. My dearest Dowd, I wish there was something you can do to help rid me of the pain this war brings to my heart. If at any time in our relationship, I think now is when I need you most.
(AMANDA enters.)
I was just reading -

AMANDA
I can see that.
(Grabbing the diary from CATHERIN.)

Read more!

"4 1/2 Minutes (give or take) to Climax"

Three couples - an older couple, a lesbian couple and a May-December couple - attending a Christian swinger's convention in Seattle are trapped in a janitor's closet by a gun-wielding religious fanatic.
SHORT (2M, 4W, 1M non-speaking)

Official Entrant to: Little Fish Theatre "Pick of the Vine" competition, August, 2008.

"4 1/2 Minutes (give or take) to Climax"

A Short Play (excerpt)
by
Jeffrey James Ircink

© Copyright 2007, Jeffrey James Ircink
4745 saint nicholas avenue
culver city, ca 90230
c: (262) 806-2808
weakknees@gbpackersfan.com
irc_64@hotmail.com
http://jeffircink.blogspot.com
June 2007


Cast of Characters

HUSBAND/WIFE: 50’s – A fun-loving, party couple, but in a very unassuming manner. They act very much like a newlywed couple, but have been married for over 25 years.

LESBIAN #1: 20’s–30’s – She’s the “butch” one.

LESBIAN #2: 20’s–30’s – She’s the “feminine” one.

OLDER MAN: 50+ - Widower, businessman, sort of a good old boy.

YOUNGER WOMAN: 20’s – Young, carefree, no responsibilities.

SCENE:
Seattle, Washington.

TIME:
The present.

(Evening. A Christian swinger’s convention. Midtown Express and Convention Center in downtown Seattle. The stage is BLACK. Two chairs side-by-side are placed downstage center. Throughout the play, each couple will sit in the chairs and talk to an unseen “interviewer” – these monologues represent interviews conducted earlier in the evening. Center stage is a “room” the actors will occupy for most of the play. Downstage center at the edge of the stage is a digital clock – large enough so that the audience can read it. The clock ticks off the “real time” the actors spend in the room, and will pause for the actor monologues. At the end of the play, the clock should read, “5:30” or close to it. Frantic voices are heard off-stage.)

LESBIAN #1: They’re all locked!

(A pistol shot rings out.)

HUSBAND: Keep trying!

WIFE: This one’s locked, too.

HUSBAND: (The door to the room swings inward to the left.) Over here! This one’s open! (Beat) Everyone in here! Come on, come on – hurry! (Another shot rings out. The HUSBAND and five other people funnel into the room. They’re all wearing name tags but are never referred to by their first names. The HUSBAND shuts the door and locks it.) Find the lights!

(The OLDER MAN switches on the room light – a string attached to one light bulb in the center of the room or a small lamp. The clock starts to count off beginning with “zero”. The dimly lit room reveals a medium-sized janitor’s closet. Everyone is talking at once. The OLDER MAN, LESBIAN #1 and the YOUNGER WOMAN immediately begin dialing their phones but no one is getting through. They continue dialing.)

HUSBAND: (To his WIFE.) Honey, gimme your cell phone.

WIFE: (Rummaging through her purse.) I must have left it in the car.

HUSBAND: God dammit!

LESBIAN #1: What the fuck is going on out there?!

HUSBAND: It sounded like gunshots.

OLDER MAN: Pistol shots, more like it.

WIFE: What?

YOUNGER WOMAN: Oh my God.

LESBIAN #2: Someone needs to call the police

OLDER MAN: (Overlapping) I’m trying!

LESBIAN #1: (Overlapping) I’m trying!

YOUNGER WOMAN: (Overlapping) I’m trying!

HUSBAND: OK...everyone just calm down. Let me think for a second.

YOUNGER WOMAN: We have to get help!

(The clock stops ticking, the actors “freeze” and the stage FADES TO BLACK. A SPOTLIGHT POPS on the OLDER MAN and the YOUNGER WOMAN, who “unfreeze” and take positions in the “interview” chairs. The OLDER MAN is 50+ and the YOUNGER WOMAN is in her 20’s. Both are holding drinks; his arm is resting on her chair.)

OLDER MAN: We just met.

YOUNGER WOMAN: We met earlier this evening at the entrance to the convention center. We both came stag...hoping to find someone to go inside with.

OLDER MAN: Singles aren’t allowed in most swinger events, particularly single men. I’d been swinging for about 20 years, and then I found the Lord – got reborn – and I’ve been Christian swinging for about three years, and – well, my wife passed away a few years ago, and I miss it. I miss my wife, too. (Beat) It’s been difficult finding someone who enjoys this lifestyle as much as I do – like Maggie and I did.

YOUNGER WOMAN: I didn’t know this was a Christian swinger’s convention.

OLDER MAN: That’s why I’m wearing this pin – “Swing with Jesus”. I’m not saying Jesus was a swinger. It just signifies that we’re all Christians enjoying the life the good Lord gave us, that’s all.

YOUNGER WOMAN: My boyfriend and I had been swinging for about a year. Then we broke up; he got married and moved away. I was heartbroken – ‘cause I like to swing, you know? (Looking at the OLDER MAN.) And then we bumped into each other –

OLDER MAN: – and we got to talking and here we are.

YOUNGER WOMAN: I mean, really – is there a better situation for two strangers to find themselves in? You let your inhibitions down, have a good time and everything else just sorta falls into place. It’s the perfect blind date.

OLDER MAN: She reminds me of my Maggie when we first started dating. (Beat) Also of a girl I met in Da Nang. Marine Corp. ’69-’72.

YOUNGER WOMAN: He reminds me of my father. (Beat) That’s kinda weird – that I might be having sex with my “father” later tonight. (To OLDER MAN.) And an ex-Marine. Cheers.

(They toast. The SPOTLIGHT FADES on the couple, who resume their frozen spot with the others. As the LIGHTS FADES UP in the room, everyone unfreezes and continues where they left off. The clock resumes ticking.)

HUSBAND: We all have to calm down first – and be quiet. (Beat) Sonofabitch. The last thing we wanna do is let some nut job with a gun know where we are. Is the door locked?

OLDER MAN: It’s locked.

WIFE: Who would bring a gun to a swinger’s convention?

OLDER MAN: A scorned swinger?

LESBIAN #1: Or maybe someone who thought “Christian swinger” was a bit of a stretch.

LESBIAN #2: Has anyone gotten through to the police?

OLDER MAN: I can’t get a signal.

(A shot rings out – it’s closer. Then a second shot – even closer.)

HUSBAND: SH-H! SH-H! Hold on.

(Beat)

WIFE: It’s getting closer.

HUSBAND: Sh-h.

(Beat. The door handle jiggles. There’s an unassuming knock at the door. LESBIAN #2 starts to cry out but LESBIAN #1 covers her mouth. The door handle jiggles again. The HUSBAND motions to everyone to remain quiet. They wait. They hear pounding on another door down the hallway. Silence. The HUSBAND puts his ear to the door.)

HUSBAND: I think he’s gone.

YOUNGER WOMAN: What are we gonna do?

LESBIAN #1: We gotta get the fuck outta here is what we gotta do. (Beat)
These cell phones suck!

YOUNGER WOMAN: Mine’s ringing!

(The OLDER MAN grabs it away from her.)

OLDER MAN: (Calmly but determined.) Hello? Hello? Yes...this is an emergency. Shots have been fired. There are six of us trapped in a – (Looking around.) – a janitor’s closet, I think – at the Midtown Express and Convention Center downtown and someone is shootin’ the hell outta this place. Yes – (To the group.) They know about it. (On phone.) What are we supposed to do? What? (Pause) We don’t know. OK. You have this number? That’s right. Goodbye. (He hangs up. To the group.) The police are outside.

WIFE: Thank God.

YOUNGER WOMAN: It’s quiet. I wonder if he’s still out there?

(A shots rings out.)

LESBIAN #1: Does that answer your question?

HUSBAND: What did they say about the shooter?

OLDER MAN: The shooter contacted the police by cell phone. They don’t know who he is or what he wants. All he said was, ‘we reapeth what we sow’...‘vengeance is mine, sayeth the Lord.’ That’s all they’ve been able to get out of him so far.

LESBIAN #1: A religious nut. Just like I said.

OLDER MAN: Most everyone got out of the building.

HUSBAND: Most?

OLDER MAN: Three people are dead, according to the shooter. (Reactions.) He’s holding hostages and promises to kill more.

HUSBAND: What’s he asking for?

OLDER MAN: He didn’t say.

YOUNGER WOMAN: Oh my God.

LESBIAN #2: (Looking toward LESBIAN #1.) We should have never come here.

OLDER MAN: ‘We reapeth what we sow’.

WIFE: We’re all gonna die.

HUSBAND: We are not gonna die.

LESBIAN #1: We’re trapped in a janitor’s closet with some pissed off psycho running around killing Christian swingers. What do you think the odds of us getting outta here alive are?

HUSBAND: Better if we don’t lose our heads.

WIFE: (Clinging to her husband.) I don’t want to die here!

HUSBAND: Honey, everything’s gonna be alright. The police are gonna take care of everything.

(The clock stops ticking, the actors “freeze” and the stage FADES TO BLACK. A SPOTLIGHT POPS on the HUSBAND and WIFE, who “unfreeze” and take positions in the “interview” chairs. They’re a fun-loving couple in their late 50’s/early 60’s, but unassuming – not the typical “party” couple. Both are holding drinks.)

WIFE: (To the “interviewer”.) Why are we here?

HUSBAND: We’re new to this.

WIFE: We’re not swingers.

HUSBAND: Normally.

WIFE: Normally we’re not.

HUSBAND: I was talking to my buddy at work and he mentions this couple he knows – the guy’s his cousin – who’ve attended a few swinger get-togethers...and they had a great time. So I mentioned this in passing to my wife – not letting on that I was mildly curious – and she tells me –

WIFE: I tell him the thought of swinging crossed my mind a long time ago but I didn’t dare mention it to him. ‘Course we’ve done things – you know – but inviting another couple into our bed? Never.

HUSBAND: We talked to other couples online who were involved in the swinger lifestyle.

WIFE: Eventually we were invited to some parties, which were really a lot of fun. All the food –

HUSBAND: – and drinks.

WIFE: Anything you wanted to drink. Food, drinks, music – it was like being at a luau in Hawaii. (To HUSBAND.) Wasn’t it?

HUSBAND: Yep. Everyone was friendly. Like hanging out with your neighbors. Regular people.

WIFE: They were all very neighborly. We mingled, got to know people, then groups of couples –

HUSBAND: Foursomes are what they call them.

WIFE: Yes. You go off on your own and the discussions become more intimate...

HUSBAND: ‘What experiences have you had with swinging?’. ‘What do you like or dislike sexually?’. ‘What are you looking for in other swingers?’.

WIFE: And then at some point you just...swap partners. Like a first date...sorta.

HUSBAND: It was a little awkward at first for both of us.

WIFE: ‘Course it was.




Read more!

"Chromosome 21"

Joshua Cinrik is about to celebrate his 21st birthday on his terms – warts and all.

Joshua has Down Syndrome (DS) and lives at home with his mother, Doris. Compared to others with DS, Joshua functions at a level somewhere in the mid-range as it relates to his verbal, social and cognitive skills. He works at Wal~Mart, volunteers at the local recreation center, and loves to sing and play the guitar – a passion he acquired from his father, Roger, a jazz guitarist, who abandoned the family when Joshua was 10 and has not been seen or heard since. Living a life compounded with DS presents a unique set of circumstances for Joshua. Not unlike most children, Joshua confides in a make-believe friend, “Del Rey”, a hefty, black, street musician. Del Rey mentors and advises Joshua on music and life, while providing an unconditional ear for Joshua to vent to.

Joshua’s older brother, Eric, is devoted to Joshua. Having taken a year off his senior year in college to help at home after his father left, Eric’s resentment toward his father’s abrupt departure is deep-seated, though he hides his hatred by immersing himself in his work.

As Joshua’s 21th birthday nears, Doris decides to throw a surprise party. Out of the blue, she receives a phone call from Roger, who invites himself to the party with the hope of re-establishing a relationship with Joshua. Eric is incensed upon hearing this news, but Doris is insistent that Roger’s visit is for Joshua’s sake, though she is unsure as to Joshua’s reaction upon seeing his father. As anticipated, Joshua’s birthday party is memorable on a number of fronts. Eric gets drunk and loses his temper; Roger never loses sight of his mission to reconnect with Joshua; Doris maintains her dignity and composure throughout an evening that is far from “normal”. And Joshua – he treats his father like he would treat anyone else – with compassion and forgiveness. The way he would want to be treated.

In the finale scene, we witness Joshua’s actual 21st birthday party – one in which he and Doris are the sole guests. The “family reunion birthday party” was an elaborate scenario constructed from Joshua’s imagination. His father never returns and Eric committed suicide 10 years prior, having broken down from the loss of his father and the pressures of being both a father and brother to Joshua. The “reunion” was Joshua’s glimpse into what his “ideal world” might look like.
FULL-LENGTH (4M, 1W)

"I read the play on a jet to Kansas City and loved it. I think DS is represented very well." – Gail Williamson, President, Down Syndrome Association of Los Angeles.

"...very engaging, and the way you handle the interactions between people with mental handicaps and those around them was quite intriguing..." – Timothy O'Neal, Westport Playhouse, Connecticut.

"Outstanding." – Ed Hale, personal friend in Wisconsin whose son has Down Syndrome.

*Official entrant = Playwrights First, MILDRED and ALBERT PANOWSKI Playwriting Award, Playwrights First, May 2008. Stray Dawg/Belfast, Ireland, Charter Theatre

CHROMOSOME 21

A Play in Two Acts
by
Jeffrey James Ircink

© Copyright 2005, Jeffrey James Ircink
4745 saint nicholas avenue
culver city, ca 90230
c: (262) 806-2808
weakknees@gbpackersfan.com
irc_64@hotmail.com
http://jeffircink.blogspot.com
July 2007

Dedication page
To my brother’s dog, Molly, the
American Water spaniel.

And to everyone who ever felt like a
square peg in a round world.

Our time will come.

Cast of Characters

JOSHUA CINRIK: 20 - JOSHUA has Down Syndrome (DS) and ranks in the middle tier as it relates to his intelligence, motor skills, hearing, vision, etc. He works full-time at Wal-Mart and lives at home with his mother, DORIS. He loves to play the guitar and sing and has quite the imagination. When he is alone with DEL-REY, he appears “normal” – void of any of the characteristics associated with Down Syndrome.

DORIS CINRIK: 57 - JOSHUA’S mother – DORIS has raised JOSHUA and ERIC by herself for 11 years, while holding down a full-time job as a ­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­false teeth ceramist. She’s a busy-body, very down-to-earth and blunt. She draws a fine line between doting on JOSHUA and recognizing his independence (think ANGELA LANDSBURY in the movie, “Blue Hawaii”).

ERIC CINRIK: 31 - JOSHUA’S brother - ERIC is the creative director for an advertising agency. ERIC and JOSHUA are very close and he is extremely protective of JOSHUA, working hard to treat JOSHUA as if he had no disability. ERIC is resentful that his father abandoned the family, not only because he lost his father, but also because he was forced into a position of taking care of his family while he was in college. Has a sarcastic sense of humor and is an avid triathlete (think JAMES SPADER).

ROGER CINRIK: 59 - JOSHUA’S father – ROGER is a professional guitarist whose bohemian lifestyle caused him to be on the road throughout much of his marriage. His inability to cope with the responsibilities of raising a child with DS – and his traveling - took its toll and he abandoned his family when JOSHUA was 10. He’s never really been able to shed the guilt and has finally gathered the courage to go home and face his demons. Big in stature - salt-of-the-earth, simple. quiet man (think SAM ELLIOT or JAMES GAMMON).

DEL-REY: 50-70 - JOSHUA’S make-believe friend; a rotund, black man-of-the-streets who plays blues guitar and acts as a mentor to JOSHUA. DEL-REY appears only when JOSHUA is alone, though he sometimes makes his presence known by quietly sitting in the corner and observing. (NOTE: If no African-American actor is available, you may substitute a Caucasian “blues man” from the South. “Rotund” is just a guideline.)


SCENE:
A Midwest town in the United States.

TIME:
The present.

(All scenes take place in the Cinrick home
unless otherwise noted.)


Act I

scene i Sunday evening.
Scene ii Monday morning.
scene iii Monday. Later that morning. Wal~Mart.
scene iv Tuesday evening.
scene v Friday afternoon.
scene vi Saturday evening.

Act II

scene i Saturday evening.
scene ii Saturday evening.
scene iii The next day.

Author’s Note:
Joshua’s speech patterns and physical attributes will vary depending on to whom he’s talking. This is extremely important so that the audience can make the distinction between Joshua’s real world and the world his imagination creates. If Joshua can be heard by anyone other than Del-Rey, he speaks with a speech impediment. When he’s alone - speaking to Del-Rey – this is the state in which Joshua views and sees himself...a world where his is “just like everyone else”. Through the perfect world of his imagination, the audience has a deeper understanding of Joshua’s thought processes unencumbered by his DS.

There are instances where Del-Rey serves as a “witness” – observing events as they unfold – but only when Joshua is present. Del-Rey represents a “normal” Joshua, studying the “abnormal” events occurring within Joshua’s reality.

At various points in the play, JOSHUA, DEL REY and ROGER play the guitar. The expertise with which the actors play the guitar will vary on the actors. At the very least, they should learn to play the basic chords to the songs – and “fake it”. Even DEL REY and ROGER, who are proficient guitar players, can just play chords and that approach will work in each scene.

Additionally, for music between scenes beginning at the end of ACT I, SCENE IV, use the instrumental music from the song, Velvet, which appears at the end of the play. In this way, the audience can following along with Joshua’s progress as he constructs his song, or “assignment”, given to him by Del-Rey. The melody to Del-Rey’s Lament = pick any blues melody and apply.


ACT I, SCENE I

(Sunday evening. JOSHUA’S bedroom. Over the loudspeaker, a recording is heard of JOSHUA CINRIK, 20, playing his guitar and singing, *“Big Rock Candy Mountain” - with his speech impediment. JOSHUA is dressed in his work clothes – white golf shirt, dark pants, tennis shoes, prescription glasses with thick lens and a blue Wal~Mart vest with plastic name tag, big yellow smiley face and “Good Job” pins. With his back turned slightly on an angle toward the audience, he practices his greeting speech in front of a double-wide, full-length mirror. JOSHUA’S mother, DORIS CINRIK, 57, is in the living room talking on the phone. The recording fades as JOSHUA is heard practicing – with his speech impediment. The lights dim back and forth between each scene.)

JOSHUA
Hello. Welcome to Wal~Mart. Is there something I can help you find? Would you like a flyer with today’s store specials? There you go. Enjoy your visit to Wal~Mart. Hello. Welcome to Wal~Mart. Is there something I can help you find? Enjoy your vis - oh, here’s a flyer with today’s store specials. Enjoy your visit to Wal~Mart. Thanks for stopping by. Hello. Welcome to Wal~Mart. Is there something...

DORIS
(Loudly, on the phone. JOSHUA can still be heard in the background.)
I told you, Estelle, you plant daffodil and tulip bulbs in the fall to bloom in the spring. Read your Burpees™ magazine. Daddy used to say, ‘Think tulips – Easter. Easter – Spring. Spring bulbs in winter.’ Oh-h he always said that. We did ours already. Joshua helped. He’s so wonderful in the garden- very meticulous. I mean the spacing between the bulbs is perfect. Everything’s fine, Estelle...

JOSHUA
(Doing the Wal~Mart cheer.)
Gimme a “W”! “W”! Gimme an “A”! “A”! Gimme an “L”! “L”! Gimme a squiggly!
(He bends over and wiggles his posterior.)
Squiggly! Gimme an “M”! “M”! Gimme an “A”! “A”! Gimme an “R”! “R”! Gimme a “T”! “T”! What does it spell?! “WAL~MART”! Who’s #1?! The customer...always...Uh!

(JOSHUA vocalizes people cheering.)

DORIS
(On the phone.)
What’s that? That’s Joshua - he practices his greeting speech every Sunday evening in front of the mirror. No – just Sundays. He says he needs to be refreshed should they ask him to fill in greeting people at the door. What? It’s some cheer they do. Oh-h he stocks shelves, mops...whatever they need him to do. What’s that? Of course he can cashier, Estelle – he’s not retarded...

JOSHUA
Hello. Welcome to Wal~Mart. Is there something I -
(He stops and stares at his reflection in the mirror. Children and adult voices are heard giggling and whispering over the loudspeaker – voices JOSHUA is hearing in his head. He studies his face and touches it. Without his speech impediment.)
Why don’t I look like everyone else? What’s wrong with me? Everything about me is wrong - my face, my eyes, my body. It’s not fair. Why did this happen to me? Why not someone else? I see people staring at me - at the way I look, the way I act.
(Beat)
I don’t feel any different on the inside.
(Beat)
I know what they’re thinking. They think I’m retarded. I can hear what they’re whispering.
(Beat)
All I want is to be treated like everyone else.

(As he continues studying himself in the mirror, an audiotape is heard of people making comments as if toward JOSHUA. The comments overlap slightly.)

GIRL
Why do you look like that, Joshua?

BOY
What’s wrong with you, Joshua?

ADULT MALE
Stay away from him.

GIRL
What are you looking at?

BOY
Joshua, are you retarded?

ADULT FEMALE
I don’t want him around my children.

BOY
We don’t want to play with you.

GIRL
Joshua, no!

BOY
Get out of here!

GIRL
Don’t, Joshua.

ADULT MALE
I’m sorry but we can’t have you work here.

(JOSHUA covers his ears.)

GIRL
Get away from me!

ADULT FEMALE
Joshua, no!

CHILDREN
Joshua, no!

ALL VOICES
No, Joshua!!

JOSHUA
(Defiantly, with his speech impediment.)
JOSHUA NO!!
(The voices abruptly stop. Without his speech impediment.)
All I want is to be treated like everyone else.

DORIS
Joshua!

(SPOTLIGHT FADES UP on DEL-REY, JOSHUA’S make-believe friend, who is sitting on a stool in the corner of the room. He’s a hefty, black street musician who plays for change in the streets. He has a tin cup for spare change, a backpack and sleeping bag.)

DEL-REY
It’s the voices again, ain’t it?

JOSHUA
Someday’s they’re louder. What are you doing here, Del-Rey?

DEL-REY
I’m always here.
(Rising.)
I can leave if you want me to?

JOSHUA
No – stay.
(Beat)
My 21st birthday’s coming up.

DEL-REY
Shor’e is. Lordy...ben a long time since I was 21. Uh-huh. Dem’s was da times, dat’s for shor’e...from what I remember.

JOSHUA
I guess I should feel lucky to hit 21.

DEL-REY
Luck had nothin’ to do wit it. Joshua. You a survivor. Hell, der’s people all over da world in da same condition as you living longer lives. Times has changed, thank da Lord for dat.

JOSHUA
Then why do I feel like I’m a square peg in a round world?

DEL-REY
Dat’s ‘cause you are – in a way. We’s all tryin’ to fit in somewhere, Joshua.

(Pause. DORIS rises from the couch and goes over to JOSHUA’S door. DEL-REY puts his finger to his lips to quiet JOSHUA. DORIS knocks and as soon as the door opens, the SPOTLIGHT FADES on DEL-REY.)

DORIS
Time for bed.

JOSHUA
(With speech impediment.)
I’m going.

(DORIS closes the door and the SPOTLIGHT FADES UP on DEL-REY.)

DEL-REY
Ya outta be careful wit yor momma ‘round. She gonna think yor’ crazy for talkin’ to yor’self.

JOSHUA
(Without speech impediment.)
But I’m not talking myself. I’m talking to you.

DEL-REY
Like I said...she gonna think yor’ crazy.

(Pause.)

JOSHUA
Did you know that the 21st chromosome – the one that made me the way I am - is a misnomer? It should’ve been called, “Chromosome 22”.

DEL-REY
I did not know that. And I do not know what a misnomer is either.

JOSHUA
Yeh. Chromosomes are numbered from largest to smallest. The
Down Syndrome chromosome is the smallest.
(Beat)
It should’ve been numbered 22.
(Beat)
I wish my family was all together. Maybe things would be different. Or at least a bit easier for me.

DEL-REY
Nuthin’ mor’ important den family.
(Beat)
Tell ya what – how ‘bout I wave my magic gui-tar and den you’ll be able to wish fo’ anythin’ you want.

JOSHUA
If you had a magic wand you wouldn’t be playing for quarters on the street corner.

DEL-REY
Touche, Joshua. Touche. But ya do have some magic right up here.
(Points to his own head.)
Anythin’ can happen as long as ya got your imagination...and dat surely is intact.

JOSHUA
I suppose.

DORIS
Joshua?! What’s going on in there?!

JOSHUA
(To DORIS, with speech impediment.)
WHAT?!
(To DEL-REY, without speech impediment.)
I gotta go. I’ll talk to you later.

DEL-REY
I’ll be here.
(Beat)
Da day you lose yo’ imagination, Joshua, is da day you ain’t long for dis world. You remember dat.

(SPOTLIGHT FADES on DEL-REY.)

DORIS
Joshua?!
(Yelling into the phone.)
How’s your hip coming along? Yeh? What’s more important – your hip or the flower beds? Estelle, I have to go. I think Joshua’s finishing up and I’ve got to get him into bed. Well just dig’em up and start from scratch. OK. I’ll talk to you later. And stay off your feet! B-bye.
(Hanging up the phone.)
Joshua! Come out here for a second!
(Beat)
JOSHUA! Come here!
(JOSHUA enters the living room.)
What are you doing in there?

JOSHUA
(With speech impediment.)
Nothing.

DORIS
What’s with all the screaming?

JOSHUA
I was practicing my speech.

DORIS
I know you were practicing your speech. Why were you screaming?

JOSHUA
I don’t know. I’m tired.

DORIS
It’s late – you need to get ready for bed. Wait a second. Come sit by me.
(JOSHUA sits down on the couch and lays his head on DORIS’ shoulder.)
Your Aunt Estelle says, ‘Hello’. That was her on the phone.

JOSHUA
I know – I heard you yelling at her from my room. How’s her arm?

DORIS
It’s her hip and she’s doing fine. And I yell at her ‘cause she’s going deaf. Did you put your dirty clothes in the laundry hamper – the ones you were wearing when we were digging in the flower garden?

JOSHUA
Yes.

DORIS
What about that bicycle that’s lying all over the sidewalk out front? Did you clean it up like I asked you to?

JOSHUA
Yes.

DORIS
No you did not - I just checked. Who told you to take it apart like that?

JOSHUA
I was fixing it.

DORIS
It’s in a million pieces.

JOSHUA
I’ll put it together tomorrow.

DORIS
Someone’s gonna trip over it and break their neck and sue us for everything we don’t have.

JOSHUA
I’ll pick it up tomorrow.

DORIS
You better pick it up tomorrow.
(Beat)
Why are you dressed in your work clothes?

JOSHUA
I was practicing my cheer.

DORIS
In your work clothes?

JOSHUA
How can I practice my work cheer if I’m not in my work clothes?

DORIS
(Beat – not understanding JOSHUA’S logic.)
Now listen to me for a second. Are you listening to me? You know your birthday’s coming up in a few days.

JOSHUA
I know. I’m gonna be 21.

DORIS
That’s a big deal - 21. It means you’re officially an “adult”.

JOSHUA
I know. I’m gonna be a man.

DORIS
Yes you are. Now, I was thinking maybe we could have a little something to cele–
(Stops herself, not wanting to give her party plans away just yet. Beat.)
Did you know that I love you very much?

JOSHUA
I love you, too. I’m gonna be 21.

(Pause.)

DORIS
21. Where did all the years go? Can you believe there are days when I wish I could go back...to when you were just a little boy? We managed to get through it pretty well though - these last 10 years, didn’t we...you and I?

JOSHUA
Yep.
(Beat)
Tell me a story.

DORIS
Aren’t you getting too old for my stories?

JOSHUA
Nope.

DORIS
OK. Which one would you like to hear?

JOSHUA
The one about Joshua.

DORIS
Oh you’ve heard that story a million times. How about a different story? How about -

JOSHUA
I wanna hear about Joshua and the lady.

DORIS
Fine.
(Beat. From memory.)‘There once was a boy named Joshua who lived a long, long time ago in a little thatched cottage in Ireland and he took care of his sheep and lambs and chickens and he fished in the stream that ran right along his home and –

JOSHUA
What about the girl?

DORIS
- and he lived in his cottage with a beautiful girl named Ceartha (PRONOUNCED, “KEE-RHA”) whom he loved more than life itself. And the world they lived in was an idyllic one – no wars or fighting or sickness. Everyone lived in peace and was happy. Joshua and his lovely Ceartha would often sit in front of the fireplace drinking tea and eating scones with raspberry jam and goat cheese and Joshua would spin fantastic stories of ancient knights and the lands they lived in. The escorts who accompanied the knights on their journeys would ride out in front holding brilliantly colored banners proclaiming who the knights were and where they were from. And bringing up the rear were bagpipers and buglers and dancers and magicians and servants who entertained the cavalcade as the knights journeyed throughout the countryside and in search of adventure and treasure. Oh - and the knights rode upon gallant steeds that were ten hands high and as beautifully adorned as the knights. Now, after their adventures, the knights would return home, weary from –
(Beat)
Joshua?
(JOSHUA’S asleep. DORIS grabs a blanket and covers him up.)
Yes, Joshua, you are going to be a man. But you’ll always be my baby.

(END OF SCENE.)

ACT I, SCENE II

(Monday morning. DORIS is in the kitchen preparing breakfast. JOSHUA is in his room.)

DORIS
Joshua? Are you ready for breakfast?

JOSHUA
Yes!

(He exits his bedroom with a tattered briefcase in tow and sits down at the kitchen table.)

DORIS
(Holding up two boxes of cereal.)
Raisin Bran or Captain Crunch?

JOSHUA
Um-m...Captain Crunch.
(DORIS sets the Captain Crunch and a bowl in front of JOSHUA and turns away.)
And Raisin Bran.
(DORIS turns back and sets the Raisin Bran down. JOSHUA pours it into his bowl, followed by milk.)
I like them both mixed together.

DORIS
Anything else?

JOSHUA
The business section, please.
(DORIS grabs the morning newspaper, rifles through it and pulls the business section out. She hands it to JOSHUA who opens it to the business section.)
Jesus, Mary and Josephine!

DORIS
Joshua...you know I don’t like that sort of talk.

JOSHUA
My Wal~Mart stock is up two points! I made...$30 dollars and I haven’t even left the house yet!

DORIS
Good for you.

JOSHUA
I have to eat first then I have to go to work.

DORIS
I know you have to go to work. Speaking of work - no more getting dressed in your work clothes the night before. You’re getting too big for me to change you. You’re gonna be 21, after all.

JOSHUA
I’m gonna be a man!

(The kitchen door opens and ERIC CINRIK – 31, enters.)

ERIC
(In an Irish brogue.)‘And a fine man, ‘tis he!’

JOSHUA
Heya, Eric!

ERIC
Morning, brother. Mother.

(ERIC gives DORIS a kiss and then puts his hand up for JOSHUA to give him a high-five.)

DORIS
Morning. What are you doing here?

ERIC
I’m meeting a client at Harvey’s Griddle and -
(Seeing the breakfast spread on the counter.)- o-o-o, cinnamon raisin bagels.
(He grabs a couple bagels, starts spreading cream cheese on them and pours himself a glass of orange juice.)
Big week, this week.
(Looking at JOSHUA.)
Big week for everybody.

DORIS
I thought you’re training for a triathlon?

ERIC
Carbs, baby.

DORIS
What does that mean, ‘carbs, baby’?

JOSHUA
Energy!

ERIC
Exactly. Carbohydrates provide energy. While I’m training, I burn through carbs quickly, so I need to replenish my body with more...

(ERIC looks at JOSHUA.)

JOSHUA
ENERGY! Where’s your race?

ERIC
St. Louis – in two months. Mile and a half swim, 40 mile bike and 10 mile run. Wanna come along and be my cheering section?

JOSHUA
That would be cool!

ERIC
Good. That makes three: you, me and Bianchi Freccia (PRONOUNCED, “FRAY-ZSCHA).

DORIS
You talk about that bicycle as if it’s a living, breathing thing, for heaven’s sake.

ERIC
That’s because it is. I’m in love with her – my Bianchi.

DORIS
You know Harvey just finished remodeling the entire inside of the Griddle.

ERIC
I know - I saw the new signage out front.
(Effeminately.)
I’m very excited to see what he’s done with the place.

DORIS
He’s doing rather well for himself these days.

ERIC
Yah - he got divorced.

DORIS
What difference does that make? He hardly ever spent a minute with his wife.

ERIC
He didn’t need to spend any time with her – she was having an affair with the soup guy down the street.

DORIS
Jimmy Dee?

(ERIC nods.)

JOSHUA
Jimmy Dee makes good soup.

ERIC
That’s not all Jimmy Dee makes these days. He and Mrs. Harvey have a bun in the oven.

(DORIS runs over and places her hands over JOSHUA’S ears.)

DORIS
No-o-o!

ERIC
From Harvey’s lips to God’s ears.

JOSHUA
(Yelling.)
How’s the advertising business, Eric?!

ERIC
A bitch, Joshua. It’s a -

DORIS
Eric.

ERIC
How’s work at Wal~Mart?

JOSHUA
A bitch.

DORIS
(To ERIC.)
You see. You love your job at Wal~Mart, don’t you, Joshua?

JOSHUA
Uh-huh.

ERIC
I’m just saying any job’s a bitch as long as you’re working for “the man”, isn’t that right, Josh?

JOSHUA
You mean, Mr. Wal~Mart? I haven’t met him yet.

DORIS
Aren’t you considered “the man” now – with your new creative director position and all?

ERIC
(To DORIS.)
I still have to answer to three partners.
(Beat)
A half-man, maybe.
(To JOSHUA.)
No, Joshua...”the Man”. Corporate America. The guys in suits you and I address as, ‘Yes, sir’. ‘No, sir’. ‘I’ll get that for you right away, sir’.
(He pushes the paper down out of JOSHUA’S face.)
The guys who look like this.

(ERIC makes a face.)

JOSHUA
Oh, yeh. That’s Harold. He’s head of maintenance. He doesn’t wear a suit though. He walks around with his head up his ass.

DORIS
Joshua! Who did you hear that from?!

JOSHUA
Eric...

ERIC
(Overlapping)
What?

JOSHUA
(Overlapping)
...and some of the guys at work. That’s the reason Harold makes those faces, right?

ERIC
Having one’s “head up his ass”, Joshua, is a saying. It means that Harold is incompetent - that he doesn’t perform his job well.

JOSHUA
I think he’s a good boss.

DORIS
Those men shouldn’t talk like that around you. People like that are a bad influence and can only mean trouble.

ERIC
Mother - it’s guys talking.

DORIS
I don’t care. Harold’s nice to you, isn’t he, Joshua?

JOSHUA
Yes. He says he likes to keep an eye on me for my own good.

DORIS
Well that’s very nice of him.
(To ERIC.)
And don’t come in here spouting off about Corporate America and “the man” and using foul language in front of your brother. He repeats everything he hears.
(Watching ERIC eat.)
Aren’t you gonna spoil your breakfast?

ERIC
Probably.

JOSHUA
Who you meeting with?

ERIC
Charles Bouvier (PRONOUNCED, “BOO-VEE-AY”).

JOSHUA
He’s the Donut King. I eat his donuts all the time.

ERIC
He fired his current ad agency and Jackson, Schultz and Jeanpierre is gonna pitch’em.

DORIS
Pitch’em?

ERIC
Yeh – pitch’em. Try and get his business. And if we win the account, it’s worth $10 million dollars to the agency of record and it’ll be my responsibility to turn the Donut King into the Supreme Donut Ruler of the Universe - which is maybe why I’m a bit testy this morning, Mother.
(Noticing JOSHUA’S reading the business section.)
We up or down this morning, Josh?

JOSHUA
(His eyes still in the paper.)
Up two points. I made $30 bucks.

ERIC
Way to go.
(Sits next to JOSHUA.)
Care for a little business advice, brother?

JOSHUA
OK.

ERIC
Expect nothing. That way you won’t be disappointed.

DORIS
What kind of advice is that to give your brother?

ERIC
(To DORIS.)
Sound Irish advice.
(To JOSHUA.)“Cinrik’s” Irish, you know. Ever seen an unhappy Irishman? Never - happy as clams, the Irish. Why? ‘Cause they’re realists, which is what you need to be. So, tomorrow morning, you jump out of bed and find out your stock dropped. Dejected, you walk around work with your head up your ass –
(To DORIS.)- Joshua’s words –
(To JOSHUA.)- do something stupid and end up on Harold’s shit list. Is that how you wanna start out your workweek?

JOSHUA
No.

ERIC
I didn’t think so.

DORIS
(Overlapping)
Don’t scare him like that, Eric – and please don’t use the word, “stupid”.

ERIC
Sorry, Joshua. Now, if you take your elder brother’s advice, either your stock drops but you weren’t expecting anything, so your day’s a wash, or you gain two points, make $30 bucks and you’re set for the day. Either way, you weren’t expecting anything so you’re ahead of the game. Capishe?

JOSHUA
I’d like more cereal, please.

ERIC
Joshua, did you heard a word I said?

DORIS
He would if you spoke English.

JOSHUA
Don’t count your chickens before they hatch?

ERIC
(To DORIS.)
See? So...Joshua. The big 2-1’s coming up, eh?

JOSHUA
Yep. I’m gonna be a man.

ERIC
21’s a big day for the Cinrik men. In Gaelic, it’s the day of the “teachd” (PRONOUNCED, “TAWKT”) – which means, “the arrival”.

JOSHUA
What have I arrived at?

ERIC
Umm – manhood, I guess? Being a man - you know, like you keep saying, ‘I’m a man’. It’s a rite of passage. Like a Jewish bar mitzvah.
(Beat)
And you get to legally smoke, drink and go strip clubs.

DORIS
Don’t tell him that, for Christ’s sake, Eric! I don’t want Joshua drinking and lighting up at strip clubs!

ERIC
Mother, he’s gonna be 21. You can’t keep him sheltered forever.

DORIS
I understand that. But being an adult isn’t an automatic passport to a gentlemen’s club. It’s very serious business, especially with Joshua.

ERIC
(To JOSHUA.)
How’s the guitar strumming coming along?

JOSHUA
(Pouring more cereal and milk.)
I learned a new song. Wanna hear it?

DORIS
Joshua, we don’t have time for that right now.

ERIC
What’s the song?

JOSHUA
“Big Rock” –

ERIC
“Big Rock Candy Mountain”? You know, Joshua, maybe it’s time you learned a new song. I mean, don’t you get sick of playing “Big Rock Candy Mountain” over and over and over again?
(Turning to DORIS.)
He’s been playing that song since...

(DORIS motions to ERIC to stop.)

JOSHUA
It’s my favorite song to play.

ERIC
It’s the only song you play.

DORIS
(Yells.)
He likes the song!

ERIC
It’s a great song. I mean - I like...chocolate, too, but if that’s all I ever ate I’d throw up and my teeth would fall out. Is that what you want - for all your teeth to fall out of your mouth?

JOSHUA
My teeth can’t fall out from playing “Big Rock Candy Mountain”, will they, Mom?.

DORIS
No, Joshua. Eric’s funning with you.
(To ERIC.)
There is nothing wrong with Joshua’s teeth. If there were, I’d make him a new set.

ERIC
Who’d a thunk having a false teeth ceramist for a mother would be so convenient? So, Josh, seeing as you’re the donut connoisseur of the family, any words of wisdom before I meet with Mr. Bouvier?
(JOSHUA continues eating.)
Joshua – is there anything you think I should tell the Donut King about his donuts that would make more people buy them?

JOSHUA
Sell them for free.

ERIC
OK, but what do you think I should say in the ads to get more people to come into his stores?

JOSHUA
When I eat my donut I don’t think about anything else. Just how good the custard tastes.

ERIC
“Donuts that make you forget about life”. “The donut you can’t have enough of”. How ‘bout...“The donuts Joshua likes”?

JOSHUA
I like that one. Maybe you can use my picture in your ads.

ERIC
Maybe I will. You’d have to sign a release though.

JOSHUA
OK – after you pay me.

ERIC
Did you hear that, Ma? The world of stocks and speculative trading is turning your son into a first-class capitalist shark.
(Looking at his watch.)
I have to go. Have a great day.
(Gives her a kiss.)
Make good teeth.

DORIS
Good luck with your meeting.

ERIC
It’s the Donut King – what could go wrong?

JOSHUA
He could have his head up his ass.

DORIS
Stop that!

ERIC
You know – he very well could. If he does, I’ll just –
(Pantomiming for JOSHUA.)- jerk it out.

JOSHUA
See ya, Eric! Good luck.

ERIC
Thanks, buddy. See ya later.

(ERIC starts to exit, then reaches over for another bagel. He starts to speak but DORIS cuts him off.)
DORIS
I know – carbs, baby. Goodbye.

(ERIC exits.)

DORIS
Are you ready to go, Joshua?

(JOSHUA sets his paper down, grabs his briefcase and waits at the door.)

JOSHUA
Ready.
(DORIS grabs her lunch and a bagel.)
Mom, we need to make one stop before Wal~Mart.

DORIS
We’re not stopping at the Donut King, Joshua. We’re gonna be late as it is.

JOSHUA
I want a Donut King donut.

DORIS
No.

JOSHUA
(Loudly.)
I WANT A DONUT KING DONUT! I WANT A DONUT -

DORIS
Fine. Let’s go already. Geezuz.
(FADE TO BLACK.)
Remind me to kill your brother the next time I see him, OK?

JOSHUA
OK.
(Beat)
Donut King. The donuts Joshua likes.

(END OF SCENE.)

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