(From p. 28 – 31.)
(A funeral parlor. Boxer and Jean, siblings, surrounded by flowers, cards and gifts of remembrance. Their mother in a pinewood box.)
JEAN
I asked for a waffle maker this Christmas. Because the kids really like waffles.
BOXER
Waffles are good.
JEAN
Waffles are good. And I thought: this is practical. This is good. She’ll admire that I asked for something I can use. Respectful of my situation. Understanding that luxury is not my lot.
BOXER
Yeah?
JEAN
You know what she got me instead? This little snow globe. You know. Turn it upside down the snow comes sprinkling down. This little piece of plastic. With imitation snow inside. And a little plastic man. With a painted on miniature winter cap. And a whole globe’s full of imitation winter happiness. (Pause.) You are not allowed to get something that worthless for someone came out of your womb.
BOXER
You’re right. That sucks.
JEAN
I don’t know how a person who…could grace a room with her…magic. How someone who could put that pageant-winning touch on anything and anyone, how someone capable of…of knowing the exact right thing to say to a vet in the hospital, or being able. To give one smile and change the life of some little twelve year old pageant girl forever…I mean when she was on, she was on, you know? Like a couple days after Thanksgiving, I’d been working so much overtime, and the sitter was starting to get fed up because I’d keep calling from work, and we had these doctor bills ‘cause Becca‘d tripped over her own damn feet and had to get four stitches…I know, she’s fine now…and I couldn’t tell Mom how bad things were, because, you know, you can’t just tell her and let her have that…but this one Friday I’d just had it, and the guys had been such jerks at work I was about to scream, and I came home…and the cupboards were full of cereal. And soup. And bread. And the fridge had milk. And I…I called her to thank her. Because it meant so much. And she wanted nothing to do with me. Jean, I’m in Kearney judging a pageant. I have to go. I just wanted to thank her. How is it someone who could do those things was capable of getting me a snow globe for Christmas? What was the worst thing she ever gave you?
BOXER
I don’t know.
JEAN
The worst thing. The worst gift. Think about it.
BOXER
Why? What difference does it make?
JEAN
I’m just trying to relate, I don’t know.
BOXER
Jeanie, we’re related. You don’t have to try at that.
JEAN
OK…
BOXER
You have to learn to block her out. Why can’t you just block her out? I mean…she did something weird, you got something…shitty from her for Christmas? She’s just Patricia Russell. Just another woman. Not our Mom, not Miss America. Just Patricia Russell. That snow globe is just a shitty gift from a washed up beauty queen. It doesn’t matter anymore anyway, Jean. She’s gone now. No more snow globes.
JEAN
Look at her.
(Boxer stands, takes the dare. Walks to his mother, looks at her body for the first time in the play. Stoic. Boxer is quite capable of beating a dead woman in a staring contest. Pause.)
You’ve got her eyes.
Back to: Plays
Leave a Reply