FireQuill Publications
The
Short Stories, Plays and Bible Studies of Kathy Kearney
The
Short Stories, Plays and Bible Studies of Kathy Kearney
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Prodigals ACT II
ACT IIScene I
READER
Prodigals squander more than mere money. They squander talents, they squander the love of others, the rights of others, the needs of others. Prodigals are selfish.
Ah, but it’s not fashionable to say so today. Psychology would say that prodigals like Mike are misunderstood, impeded by other’s refusal or inability to meet their needs. It would have us believe that prodigals are not responsible for their actions, but have been failed by parents and society. Odd, then how psychology then proceeds to tell us that prodigals should be placated, catered to, stroked into success. What? These misunderstood, oppressed people who are not responsible for their choices are to be given choice without restraint. Hmm? Let us see what becomes of an unrestrained prodigal.
(Scene is an office. Mike’s business partner, Catherine, is going over papers. Mike enters, goes to her and kisses top of her head before getting a drink)
MIKE: Work, work, work. Take a break and join me in an early afternoon pick-me-up.
CATHERINE: Mike, our cash flow needs a pick-me-up more than us. We’re getting too low on funds. I need another $10,000 from you.
MIKE: I can’t give you any more money, Catherine. I just was evicted from my apartment this morning. I thought these investments would be paying off by now. That’s what you projected six months ago when I gave you my initial investment.
CATHERINE: Well, darling, what can I say? That’s business. (Walks over to him and runs fingers through his hair.) Besides, you’ve enjoyed living high—at my expense, I might add. And I’m not complaining. So why should you. It will turn around. It always does.
MIKE: I don’t think I can wait until then. You seem to have an inexhaustible supply of cash. I don’t. What I gave you in January was nearly all I had. In fact, I was going to ask if I could move in with your until things turn around.
CATHERINE: (Becomes annoyed) What do you mean, nearly all you had. Doesn’t that wealthy father of yours send you money?
MIKE: He never sent me money, Catherine. He gave me my mother’s inheritance from her stock in the company. He bought me out.
CATHERINE: He bought you out? You mean you don’t hold any stock in Vectronic. (Mike tries to put his arm around her. She pushes him away)
You’re a fool, Mike. This business depends on hefty transfusions to keep it operating. Money I thought would be coming in from your stock in Vectronics, a company that shows continued rise in the stock market.
MIKE: (Begins to get a glimmer of the truth). You sure know a lot about my father’s company. Did your research well, didn’t you. (More truth comes through.) Is that why you targeted me for a partner? Is that why you loved me?
CATHERINE: Love you. When did I ever say I loved you, Mike. Not even in the throes of passion did you ever hear those words from me.
MIKE: What are you saying, that we’re strictly business? I’ve only been a wallet to you, haven’t I? And now that my wallet is flat, so are your feelings for me.
CATHERINE: (Goes to him) Mikey, it’s more than that. I like you, a lot, I truly do. But I am a businesswoman, and businesses don’t run themselves, and I can’t live on air--(laughs sarcastically), or love. (Becomes more businesslike) Now, you must write to your father, Mike, and ask for a loan—
MIKE: (interrupts) No way, Catherine. I will not ask my dad for money. I can’t, I won’t.
CATHERINE: (Shrugs) Well, then, you can’t expect things to go on as they have.
Let me put it this way. I’ll have to find another business partner.
MIKE: You can’t dismiss me like that, my names on the partnership agreement. When this product does pay off, I’m due a hefty chunk of change.
CATHERINE: When was the last time you read it, Mike? There’s a clause that says when a partner fails to help offset expenses in further investment, the partnership is null and void. No money, no partnership. Don’t let the door hit your heels on the way out, Mike.
MIKE: Just like that, I’m history? I don’t think so. I don’t think that clause will hold up in any court.
CATHERINE: Well, if you can afford an attorney go ahead and challenge it, dear boy. However, I think by that time, I will be long gone. Other mountains to climb and all that.
MIKE: Gone. (Shakes head in resignation at final enlightenment) This was a con from day one. There’s no product, no other partners. Just stupid me, and sexy you. You saw me coming, didn’t you?
CATHERINE: Well, since we’re being blunt and honest, yes, I saw you coming, and (walks over and opens door), now I can say, I saw you leaving. Goodbye, Mike. Don’t look for me. You’ll never find me.
MIKE: Don’t worry, Catherine. You’re the last person I’d ever want to find. Thanks for nothing. (Walks over to tray of bottles and grabs one.) I bought plenty of them for you, I’ll just take this as a parting memento of our more tender moments.
ACT II
Scene II
Scene II
READER
The father waits and watches daily for a glimpse of the prodigals return. He longs for it, prays for it, plans for it, and looks forward to it. The mail, the telephone, a passing glimpse of what seems to be a familiar presence as he walks, talks, and goes about his business are only conspiracies of raised and dashed hope as one breath follows another.
Others say, “Get on with your life. He’s not worth the pain you’re investing in hopelessness.”
But how can one get on with a life that ended when he left. How can one stop wondering, is he cold, is he hungry, is he sheltered? Has he met good people who will care for him, even though he has refused my care?
Still others say, “You have a good son at home.” And all the while your heart is crying out, “It’s not enough. One cannot replace the other. I am greedy with love, I want them both, both safe here with me.”
(Kevin and Sheila come in from a date. Father is reading a book. Looks up as they enter.)
FATHER: Hello children. My dear, you look lovely. Did you have a good time.
SHEILA: (Goes to him and takes his hand) Yes, we did. But we missed you. You should have come with us.
FATHER: Now, what do you need with an old man like me along. I had my dream dates, and now I just dream of those dates. Did you know, my dear, that Kevin and Mike’s mother was the only woman I ever dated. A mix for a disastrous marriage according to today’s experts. But I never wanted another after I met her. She gave me more joy in a moment than anyone else could have given me in a lifetime. And she gave me two fine sons.
KEVIN: No, she gave you one loser. Dad, it hurts me to see you like this; pining away for Mike. He’s not worth it, and he’s not coming back, Dad. You stayed home tonight hoping he would call, or come.
SHEILA: Kevin! You’re being cruel!
KEVIN: Sometimes a person has to be cruel to be kind. Someone around here has to face realism. It’s been a nearly a year, Dad. A year, and you haven’t heard word one. And don’t think I don’t notice how many times a day you look out the office window, or try to beat me to the phone when rings, there and at home.
FATHER: Son, I will not defend my self or my love for Mike. Someday when you have children, you’ll understand. I love you dearly, and I love Mike just as dearly. When love is combined with hope, it simply cannot give up. Please try and understand.
KEVIN: I understand that you’re wasting your time. (Looks at Sheila). Well, we’re going to fix some coffee and sandwiches. Can we get you anything?
FATHER: No, thanks. I think I’ll go on up to bed and leave the living room to you two.
(Kevin exits, but Sheila stays)
SHEILA: I hope he comes back too. I pray for him everyday. I pray that God is looking out for him, protecting him, and that one day, he’ll realize what he’s lost. And I pray for you too.
FATHER: (Touches her cheek) Thank you, child. Thank you. Goodnight.
(He turns to go as Sheila watches.)
KEVIN: (From offstage) Sheila, come on, I’m starving. Where are you? (reenters and comes up behind her.) MMMM! A nice pair of ears for a hungry man. (Takes her hand) Come into my parlor, little girl. (The exit, light dims)
ACT II
Scene III
Scene III
READER:
Now when the younger son had spent all his father had given him, a famine came upon the land; and he began to be in need.
Prodigals have been needy all their lives. Actually, they are quite empty. And no matter how much others try to fill them up, they remain as always, unfilled and unrequited. Mike is no exception. The life he has, no, descended into, is just a physical manifestation of what he’s always been, poverty stricken.
(Scene is an alley in the city. It’s cold and two people are warming themselves over fire in a 55 gallon drum. (We used dry ice to give the idea of smoke but that was difficult, you will have to play with it to get it right. We even tried some real fire but ventilation was a problem) Behind them people lying on the ground are trying to sleep in the bitter cold.)
NANCY: (Pulls the other girl closer to the fire) C’mon, honey. You’re going to freeze to death if you don’t get closer. I never saw you here before. You can’t be more than 16. Don’t your folks know where you are.
CHRIS: (Tries to be cool and brave.) Who needs ‘em? I left because they wouldn’t give me any space.
NANCY: Well, (looks around) you sure got lots of it now. And ain’t it elegant.
Why anybody who would stay in a nice warm house when they could have all this, must be nuts. (laughs). (Chris starts to weep). Hey now, I didn’t mean to make you cry. I was just jokin.
CHRIS: (Wipes eyes) I know. It’s just that it’s so cold, and I haven’t eaten all day.
NANCY: Oh, (clutches her bag closer. Finally shrugs shoulders in resignation and offers some food to Chris.) Well, here, try this. It isn’t very dirty, just hold it over the fire to warm it, maybe that’ll kill any bugs on it.
CHRIS: (Grabs the food and wolfs it down.)
NANCY: Jeez, kid. Lady fingers are not being served for dessert. (Pulls fingers back and wiggles them.)
CHRIS: (Wiping mouth and talking around food,) Thanks, lady, thanks a lot. I think you just saved my life.
NANCY: (Looks around again) Humph! Don’t know as I did you any great favor.
Chris: I hate the streets, the people are wierd and I’m afraid all the time.
(Sits down on bundle of papers, screams when Mike stirs)
Nancy: That’s just Mikey. Don’t be afraid.
(Just then one of the “bundles” laying near by stirs. Mike gets up and walks over to the fire)
NANCY: Ah, Mikey my boy. What’s wrong, do you need a warm glass of milk to put you to sleep. Ring for the butler. (Laughs hard)
MIKE: Very funny, Nancy. I need a warm drink alright, but not milk. (Shakes the bottle in the paper bag.)
NANCY: One of these days they’re going to find you dead from that stuff.
MIKE: Yeah, like you drink warm milk all the time.
NANCY: (Draws self up importantly) I told you, I don’t drink. It wasn’t drink that landed me out here. No sirree. Wouldn’t touch the stuff with a ten foot pole.
MIKE: Well, normally I wouldn’t ask because I don’t care, but what did land you out here.
NANCY: Drink
MIKE: You just told me you didn’t touch the stuff.
NANCY: I don’t, but the man I married drank enough for the whole neighborhood. The neighborhood where we lived for 30 years, before he lost us everything.
CHRIS: Man, that’s terrible. How long have you been on the street?
NANCY: I forget. Time doesn’t mean much out here, just surviving is all that matters.
MIKE: Don’t you have kids who would help you?
NANCY: Nope—no family, no friends. Be surprised how fast people can forget your name when you lose everything. But you two—you got family. What are you doing here? Someone somewhere cares for you. (Turns to Chris) What’s your name. Mine’s Nancy and he’s Mike.
CHRIS: I’m Chris.
MIKE: Chris. Is that short for Christine?
CHRIS: Yeah, what if it is.
MIKE: That was my mother’s name? She died the year I left seminary.
NANCY: So, now that you two are long lost relatives by name, why don’t you go home where you belong.
CHRIS: I can’t go home. My family kicked me out. My mother, she got remarried, and the guy she married, well you know, he bothered me.
NANCY: Didn’t you tell your mom?
CHRIS: Yeah, but she believed him, not me. Then he said I was a troublemaker and then he kicked me out.
MIKE & Nancy (together): The scum!
NANCY: You mean your mother let this bum toss you out to fend for yourself. (Looks at Mike) He’s a prodigal son, but you, you poor child, you got prodigal parents.
MIKE: Boy you sure are getting religious. Must be Christmas coming.
NANCY: Well, it’s the only thing I ain’t tried. You oughtn’t put it down, less you’ve tried it too.
MIKE: My dad’s religious and my brother too. Boy talk about different faiths. Kevin’s a jerk, but my dad, he’s really special.
NANCY: Well, if he’s so special why aren’t you with him?
MIKE: I’m the last person he’d want to see. I messed up bigtime; blew the money he gave me, and any chance of going back out of the water. You know the story.
CHRIS: I don’t
NANCY: Trust me, it ain’t all that interestin. (Turns to Mike) Listen, it is Christmas, or it will be in a few days. Why don’t you swallow that god-awful pride of yours and go home to your dad.
Mike: Why, so he can kick me out.
Nancy: Even if he throws you out, you owe him an apology, and you need to ask his forgiveness. Mike: He could never forgive what I’ve done.
Nancy: I tell you Mike, I’d rather live in a cardboard box as my own person, than in a mansion as a slave to pride. You let bitterness and pride keep eating at you, one day there won’t be nothing left—nothing worthwhile that is.
Mike: This is what I deserve.
Nancy: You’re going to die on these streets, Mike. You’re too young for that, you got too much promise. Make my Christmas happy, and go home.
MIKE: Getting rid of me will make you happy, old woman. (Says it gently)
NANCY: Yeah, it would. And take this poor little one with you. She’s not brought any of this on herself, and she’ll die for sure out here. You don’t want her endin up like me, do you?
MIKE: (Voice husky) Well, if she ends up with something resembling your heart, she could do worse.
CHRIS: (Shaking with cold) How can we go anywhere, Nancy. We don’t have any money.
NANCY: (Reaches in pocket) Ah, shoot, I was saving this up from those piddly social security checks the government blesses me with, for a hotel room over the holidays. But you go on and take it, and you two head for home. Now. Because if you wait for mornin, you’ll change your minds. The streets have a way of killing good intentions.
MIKE: We can’t take that, Nancy.
NANCY: Sure you can. I’ve kept back enough for two days. Now go! Before I change my mind and take it back. (She pushes them away). Go, and Merry Christmas. (They start to walk away and then run back to Nancy and hug her tight, both weeping.) Git, git, I said. (Begins to cry) And stop crying, you’ll get frostbite of the eyes with all them tears. Go now, please, go. (They exit and the light dims.)
ACT I
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