Truemizzie
June 7th, 2006, 11:40 PM
Okay. So, I have a scene. It's the major moment in my play, and I'm almost happy with it. Almost. I just keep re-reading it, trying to get my theme (understanding) across while keeping it from being TOO cheesy.
A bit of an intro - the play is about A Blind Man who affects a bunch of lives, etc., but 'supposedly' forgets about a family he helped. So, Samuel is mad, and Alan and Linda are married. He has just died in this scene, after a (also cheesy, but rightfully so) fight with Samuel.
I would definately appreciate help eliminating some cheese. Also, it feels really rushed. Thank you!
(Beeping becomes louder. The Nurse runs in and looks at John for a moment, then turns the machine off. There is silence. Alan approaches Samuel.)
Alan: Who the hell do you think you are?
Linda: Alan, please!
Samuel: He didn't get it…you wouldn't understand.
Alan: Oh, I understand you. Trying to look like a big idiot when you're just little idiot coward looking for sympathy!
Samuel: Not sympathy! (Both stop and listen.) It was never sympathy. Empathy. He didn't feel empathy! He never cared!
Alan: He never cared? He…never cared!? Of course he cared - he was the greatest listening this world has ever seen.
Samuel: But he didn't mean it - he was slow!
Alan: Don't! - say that word. He was…challenged.
Samuel: That doesn't make him a good person!
Alan: It doesn't make him a bad one either!
Samuel: He never understood anything-
Alan: (yells) Hypocrite! He understood a whole lot more than you do!
Samuel: He left us practically on the street-
Alan: What would he have done to help you even if he hadn't!
Nurse: Excuse me…would you two please leave the hospital for this.
Samuel: He could have helped her - he made her happy-
Linda: Stop it! (They stop.) You two don't even know each other - a man just died!
(There is a black out. Nurse and Linda smooth out the covers on an empty hospital bed. Samuel and Alan watch quietly)
Linda (quietly.): Fifty-six…
(Nurse mimes pulling stage right curtain across the stage as if it was a hospital room divider as in the beginning of the play.)
Linda: (To Samuel) What did you say your name was?
Samuel: (After a pause) Sam Peterson.
Linda: Samuel?
Samuel: Sure.
Linda: We'll drive you home.
Alan: Linda!
Linda: We're driving him home! Where do you live, Samuel?
Samuel: I can walk…thanks.
(Alan gives an exasperated sigh.)
Alan: Just let us drive you home!
Samuel: I'll be fine, thank you.
Linda: Who is your father?
(Samuel pauses, but answers when Linda approaches.)
Samuel: He died.
Linda: Do you have any foster parents? A group home?
Samuel: I live…with a group…
Linda: Samuel…do you live on the streets?
(Pause.)
Samuel: I did.
(Pause.)
Linda: What happened when John moved away from your town?
Samuel: My mother called the society where his social worker was. They told her he was here.
Linda: Keep going.
Samuel: (silently with guilt) She wanted to visit him, so we drove up. She wasn't well…and we hit another car.
Linda: Where did they put you? (Silence.) Where did they put you…Sam?
Samuel: In a group home.
Linda: How old were you?
Samuel: Twelve.
Linda: Tell me what happened next.
Samuel: I got away - out, I mean - when I was fifteen. Then…my friends found me.
Alan: (sighs comically) Friends!
Samuel: I read about - him - in the paper.
Linda: Who took you in?
Samuel: A group of guys. They had an apartment. They didn't do anything bad! They didn't, at least.
Alan: Criminals - you spend your time with criminals!?
Samuel: They weren't so bad before.
Alan: Stop lying!
Samuel: I am not lying!
Linda: Why can't you two just stop!? Alan: he's just a boy. You have no right to treat him like this. (To Samuel) And you - I don't think you fully understood him.
Samuel: I understand him just fine, thanks. He hates me.
Linda: I was talking about John. You say that he never truly cared about anything - I disagree. Perhaps he could never feel empathy, perhaps he was only taught how to react to things, but sometimes - sometimes I felt as if he could understand me better than anyone else in the world. And I think that - maybe - he was just stuck.
(Samuel snickers.)
Linda: I think that there was a John there…but he just couldn't get out. He couldn't show people that he really could see…everything.
(Long pause.)
Linda: How old are you?
Samuel: (polite) I'm seventeen.
Linda: Come home with us.
Alan: Linda…
Samuel: No…they'll find me.
Linda: What could they do to you?
Samuel: I don't know.
Alan: Do you have any idea how serious this is? You should report them to the police!
Linda: Sam…come and live with us. We could help you - even just until you're eighteen.
Samuel: I couldn't…why don't you two hate me? (Alan huffs.) You should hate me after what I just did!
Linda: Maybe…maybe we just understand why you did it.
Alan: Linda!
Linda: Samuel - you could start all over again. Think about it. Instead of mourning your mother, you can do and be good - and make things right. Will you?
Samuel: (getting suddenly emotional) Do you think…that I could?
Linda: If you tried very hard.
Samuel: I will - I will! I'll try so hard. I promise.
A bit of an intro - the play is about A Blind Man who affects a bunch of lives, etc., but 'supposedly' forgets about a family he helped. So, Samuel is mad, and Alan and Linda are married. He has just died in this scene, after a (also cheesy, but rightfully so) fight with Samuel.
I would definately appreciate help eliminating some cheese. Also, it feels really rushed. Thank you!
(Beeping becomes louder. The Nurse runs in and looks at John for a moment, then turns the machine off. There is silence. Alan approaches Samuel.)
Alan: Who the hell do you think you are?
Linda: Alan, please!
Samuel: He didn't get it…you wouldn't understand.
Alan: Oh, I understand you. Trying to look like a big idiot when you're just little idiot coward looking for sympathy!
Samuel: Not sympathy! (Both stop and listen.) It was never sympathy. Empathy. He didn't feel empathy! He never cared!
Alan: He never cared? He…never cared!? Of course he cared - he was the greatest listening this world has ever seen.
Samuel: But he didn't mean it - he was slow!
Alan: Don't! - say that word. He was…challenged.
Samuel: That doesn't make him a good person!
Alan: It doesn't make him a bad one either!
Samuel: He never understood anything-
Alan: (yells) Hypocrite! He understood a whole lot more than you do!
Samuel: He left us practically on the street-
Alan: What would he have done to help you even if he hadn't!
Nurse: Excuse me…would you two please leave the hospital for this.
Samuel: He could have helped her - he made her happy-
Linda: Stop it! (They stop.) You two don't even know each other - a man just died!
(There is a black out. Nurse and Linda smooth out the covers on an empty hospital bed. Samuel and Alan watch quietly)
Linda (quietly.): Fifty-six…
(Nurse mimes pulling stage right curtain across the stage as if it was a hospital room divider as in the beginning of the play.)
Linda: (To Samuel) What did you say your name was?
Samuel: (After a pause) Sam Peterson.
Linda: Samuel?
Samuel: Sure.
Linda: We'll drive you home.
Alan: Linda!
Linda: We're driving him home! Where do you live, Samuel?
Samuel: I can walk…thanks.
(Alan gives an exasperated sigh.)
Alan: Just let us drive you home!
Samuel: I'll be fine, thank you.
Linda: Who is your father?
(Samuel pauses, but answers when Linda approaches.)
Samuel: He died.
Linda: Do you have any foster parents? A group home?
Samuel: I live…with a group…
Linda: Samuel…do you live on the streets?
(Pause.)
Samuel: I did.
(Pause.)
Linda: What happened when John moved away from your town?
Samuel: My mother called the society where his social worker was. They told her he was here.
Linda: Keep going.
Samuel: (silently with guilt) She wanted to visit him, so we drove up. She wasn't well…and we hit another car.
Linda: Where did they put you? (Silence.) Where did they put you…Sam?
Samuel: In a group home.
Linda: How old were you?
Samuel: Twelve.
Linda: Tell me what happened next.
Samuel: I got away - out, I mean - when I was fifteen. Then…my friends found me.
Alan: (sighs comically) Friends!
Samuel: I read about - him - in the paper.
Linda: Who took you in?
Samuel: A group of guys. They had an apartment. They didn't do anything bad! They didn't, at least.
Alan: Criminals - you spend your time with criminals!?
Samuel: They weren't so bad before.
Alan: Stop lying!
Samuel: I am not lying!
Linda: Why can't you two just stop!? Alan: he's just a boy. You have no right to treat him like this. (To Samuel) And you - I don't think you fully understood him.
Samuel: I understand him just fine, thanks. He hates me.
Linda: I was talking about John. You say that he never truly cared about anything - I disagree. Perhaps he could never feel empathy, perhaps he was only taught how to react to things, but sometimes - sometimes I felt as if he could understand me better than anyone else in the world. And I think that - maybe - he was just stuck.
(Samuel snickers.)
Linda: I think that there was a John there…but he just couldn't get out. He couldn't show people that he really could see…everything.
(Long pause.)
Linda: How old are you?
Samuel: (polite) I'm seventeen.
Linda: Come home with us.
Alan: Linda…
Samuel: No…they'll find me.
Linda: What could they do to you?
Samuel: I don't know.
Alan: Do you have any idea how serious this is? You should report them to the police!
Linda: Sam…come and live with us. We could help you - even just until you're eighteen.
Samuel: I couldn't…why don't you two hate me? (Alan huffs.) You should hate me after what I just did!
Linda: Maybe…maybe we just understand why you did it.
Alan: Linda!
Linda: Samuel - you could start all over again. Think about it. Instead of mourning your mother, you can do and be good - and make things right. Will you?
Samuel: (getting suddenly emotional) Do you think…that I could?
Linda: If you tried very hard.
Samuel: I will - I will! I'll try so hard. I promise.