The Dark Place
The scene opens with a dark stage. There is a crashing sound, a woman’s scream, and the resonating of powerful fists delivering blows to a body. A soft whimper is heard several times during the vicious assault. Just as abruptly as the violent act started, it comes to an end…
MAN
“You worthless stinking bitch. Who do you think you are? You have nothing. You are nothing. Look at me! I said look at me!! You…you made me to this! If I want your opinion and I can’t imagine why, I’ll ask cleaned up! I’ll drop you off on my way to work.” Finger Snapping. “Hey. Hey! HELLO! And no—before you even mention driving… I already told you; you can’t drive. I thought we had settled that. tabpiece of shit, let’s get a move on. Use some of that stuff on your face. You’re gonna’ make me late for work. Hurry up.” for it, ok bitch. LOOK AT WHAT YOU MADE ME DO! Your big mouth is going to get you killed one day; I keep telling you that. AND CLEAN UP THIS MESS. Get yourself
Heavy footsteps are heard walking off stage, and a door slams. A harsh spotlight comes up on a woman bruised from her mouth and nose. She is barefoot and wearing a torn, bloody nightgown. One of her breasts is exposed as she crouches over, holding and rocking herself. She seems unaware of her circumstances…her nakedness. Her hand is shaking as she wipes her bloody and swollen face and wipes the blood on her white gown; she stops rocking and looks directly out into the audience. She weeps, though not making a sound, and she continues to stare at the audience. The spotlight slowly dims to black.
Mothers and Daughters – Settling Down
The lights come up on the other side of the stage in a simple living room setting. There is a small sofa, a coffee table with magazines on top of it, a rocking chair, and an end table. There are framed family photos on the end table. An older woman sits on the sofa and takes her shoes off. She is dressed in a waitress uniform. She looks at the younger woman, her daughter, in a conversation. The younger woman stands holding a very small baby in her arms. A newborn baby rests quietly in its mother’s arms. There is another child, a little girl about three or four years old. The little girl is holding onto her mother’s skirt.
DAUGHTER
“Like I said Mom, it would only be for a little while…. until I get on my feet.”
MOM
“If you remember, I told you not to marry him in the first place. I knew he was nothing but trash, pure trash: Umph, umph, umph.” The mother shakes her head. “What’s the matter with your face? Come over here; let me get a look at it.” The young woman reluctantly turns to face her mother, pushing her hair back. “Did he do that to you? He’s a wife beater—don’t that beat everything, and I bet it came easy for him. Look at me.” She points to her daughters and holds her face still. “You are not the first woman he’s laid a hand or his fists to. You might be the first wife but not the first woman he’s laid his hands on. Come here to grand ma-ma, sweetheart.” She reaches out for her grandchild, and her daughter gently hands the baby over to her. “Does he know you’re pregnant again?”
DAUGHTER
“Yes, he knows. I really think he was trying to make me lose the baby. He punched me in the stomach with his fists.”
MOM
“Did he hurt the baby?”
DAUGHTER
“I don’t think so. I had some spotting right after it happened, so I went to the doctor. She said the baby was ok. I was ok, so I guess we’re ok. Mom where else we gonna go?”
MOM
“And what will you do for money? There’s no way four people, excuse me – pointing at the daughter’s stomach – , five people can survive on my little check. Damn it, Angie, these are supposed to be my good years—what do they call? My sliver years….no golden years, whatever it’s called, that’s what these times are supposed to be for me.”
DAUGHTER
“I plan to continue working. My supervisor said I could keep on working as long as I could keep up with the line. Jeannie pays ok, and I might start a savings account—not like before, but you would have your name on it solely. You are the one who could take money out. I thought I could go down today to Social Services and get the food stamps and medical, and they could tell me how to make Mike support us this time. A shoot! I may just have to take another sick day off from work.” She looked down at her oldest child, who was now holding onto her leg. “Tess you need to go to the bathroom?” Tess nods yes. “You know where it is?” Tess once again nods yes. “Do you remember where it is?” Tess nods yes, looks over at her grandmother, and then back at her Mom. She nods yes but still holds on to her mother. “You want Mommy to go with you?” Tess shakes her head no and leaves the room. “I had him arrested and I’m going to press charges.”
MOM
“I’ve heard that tune before, again and again. I remember getting him out of jail for you. You said Mike was sleeping on the floor. Well, that’s what jail is—hard times. Punishment for bad behavior.”
DAUGHTER
“I mean it this time. I have to. When he finished beating me up, it’s… it’s…. like it made him madder. That’s when he went after Tess. First, he slapped her, and she wouldn’t cry. That made him even madder. Then he picked her up, and he threw her. He just threw her little body up against the wall and walked right passed her out the door like it was nothing. I called the police and had him arrested, so as far as I know, he’s still in jail. My brave little girl is scared to death. YES, I DO MEANT IT THIS TIME! Mom, help us.”
The older woman continues rocking the baby to sleep. She takes a deep breath and blows it out. Her hands are shaking. She doesn’t look up as she says the next lines.
MOM
“You might want to think about getting some counseling for Tess. She’s been thru a lot. Unfortunately, this may not have been the first time her father has abused her. That’s one scared little girl. Social services will provide counseling for her. If they don’t, I will pay for it.” She gently hands the baby back to her daughter. She took another big breath and pushed it out.
DAUGHTER
“I love you, Ma-ma.”
MOM
“I love you too. You’re my beautiful girl.” She then kisses her daughter’s forehead. “I love all of you. A day doesn’t pass that a woman my age or older crosses my path, women raising their grandchildren as if they were their responsibility. I promised myself that I wouldn’t be one of them. You are so much in love, don’t get me wrong, I’m not knocking it. You have been putting your man before your children, or this wouldn’t have happened. Each time you’re worse.” As the daughter prepares to respond, the mother lifts her hand to cut her off. “You can’t live here. There’s a women’s shelter, not three blocks from here. I know because I volunteer one day a week. Like I said before, you can’t live here. Gather up your and your children’s belongings.”
Ask Your Doctor
Lights come up on a doctor’s office on the other side of the stage. There is a desk or table, with a chair behind it and two chairs in front of it. A large silk plant is behind the doctor’s desk. A small table with health magazines stands between the two patient’s chairs.
Other props are evident, which would imply a general practitioner’s office. Mary is seated in one of the chairs. She appears nervous and is wringing her hands, fidgeting in her chair, and glancing from her watch to the closed door. She replaces the magazine as Dr. Monroe walks briskly into the room. He sits behind the desk.
Dr. Monroe
“Mary, I’m sorry I kept you waiting. We have yet to receive some lab results. I had Tilly call the lab-they’ve got a new girl working in the office, and it took her some time to find what we needed, don’t worry, we got it all straightened out. I have everything now.” Dr. Monroe opens a vanilla folder and shuffles through papers. “How are you feeling today, today, Mary?”
Mary
“About the same.”
Dr. Monroe
“Have you had any more headaches?”
Mary
“Yes, I had one this morning, and I the beginning of one right now, Dr. Monroe.”
Dr. Monroe
“I’ll have Tilly give you something for your headache before you leave.” He closes the folder, walks around the desk, and sits on the corner facing Mary.
Mary
“Like they say in the movies, Dr. Monroe, give it to me straight.”
Dr. Monroe
“You’ve been a patient of mine-“
Mary
“Since I was ten, Steve and I had a bad case of poison ivy, so Mother bought us in to see you, Dr. Monroe. He moved to Washington. He’s working at one of the television stations there. Steve is doing great. How am I doing, Dr. Monroe?”
Dr. Monroe
“I’ve seen you more in the last three years than in all the years I’ve had you as a patient. He opens up her chart and scans through it. “In the last three years, I treated you for a broken nose, a broken arm, a couple of cuts and burns, lacerations, headaches, and fatigue. Now you’re here today for sharp stomach pains and bleeding. Your upper and lower GI X-rays came back clean. Your other tests were okay, too.”
Mary
“But I’m sick, Dr. Monroe, and I hurt all the time. And I’m tired…. I’m so damn tired.”
Dr. Monroe
“I believe you don’t feel well and that you’re in a great deal of pain and discomfort. I have a theory at what is the root of all this. Mary, I have known you most of your life. May I be blunt?”
Mary
“Oh, no!” she thought. Her eyes start to water. It is serious. I promised myself I wouldn’t cry, no matter what! She leans forward, takes a deep breath, and braces herself. “Give it to me doctor,” she says.
Dr. Monroe
“You, young lady, have been trying to do something medically impossible. You’ve been trying to live with two assholes—the one you were born with and the other one you married three years ago.” Mary starts to object when Dr. Monroe raises his hand before she can say anything. “I’m going to tell you something very few people know about in this town, and there’s no reason for them to know. For years I abused my wife. I’m not proud of it. Looking back, the abuse…. the….the….the battering started before I struck her.” He takes a deep breath. “I said mean, cruel things to her. I called her horrible, vulgar names daily. But she stuck it out. I saw her changing, though. She wasn’t the same woman I’d married. While she was changing, I was going through some metamorphosis and becoming that monster my father had been. After a while she…I guess she stopped believing in herself and started believing she was stupid, fat, useless—oh, I had quite a list of things wrong with my wife.”
Mary
“No.” Shaking her head from side to side. “Dr. Monroe,” stumbling for the right words, “you’re my doctor!”
Dr. Monroe
“GOOD DOCTOR. But as a husband, I was no more than a sick, mean and dangerous little boy masquerading in a man’s body, the good doctor—a real pillar of the community. So don’t be impressed by the stethoscope and the diplomas on the wall—I’m not anymore.”
Mary
“Why are you telling me all this?”
Dr. Monroe
“I think you know. The last time I assaulted Claire – that’s what the police and the courts called it – I almost killed her. She was in emergency surgery for six hours and in the hospital for a long time. I was arrested and faced some pretty serious charges. In the end, I was given two years’ probation and had to serve hundreds of hours-which I enjoyed-still do. I was forced to attend Anger Management Classes with other men who were no better or worse than me. I wasn’t the only medical man attending those classes either. We were there because we had done things to their families. Deplorable, cruel acts had been done to our wives, girlfriends, parents, and sometimes the children. It meant driving to Fargo three times a week, but it was better than going to prison. I hated the drive, but the classes were good for me. I learned about violence in homes just like mine and just like yours. I learned that this anger…. this rage I carried inside, had been with me way before I met Claire. This rage had nothing to do with Claire. I’d blamed Claire for everything, but I couldn’t any longer. I learned that it was mine, all mine, and IT went way back before I went to school. In those classes, I was forced to face this rage and take responsibility for it and my behavior. I learned that being a man meant more than bringing home the bacon. It was the hardest thing I ever had to do…. CHANGE.”
Mary
“What happened with…. You and Claire?”
Dr. Monroe
“She left me. We were separated for two years. I had to prove to her and, most importantly, myself that I had changed and that I could stay changed. I thank God I didn’t lose her love. While we were separated, Claire attended Domestic Violence Groups for victims. She also went back to school and finished her degree. She told me later that she had to find out why she put up with being treated so horribly for so long.” Reaching into his pocket, he hands Mary a slip of paper. “Mary, this is the phone number of a Battered Women’s Group. I suggest you call them. Well, my 3:00 appointment should be here. You take care, Mary.” Dr. Monroe picks up a message pad from his desk and quickly writes a note. Give this to Tilly, and she’ll give you something for your headache.”
Mary
“Thank you, doctor.” She gathers up her belongings and leaves the office. Dr. Monroe sits at his desk, picks up the phone, and speed-dials a number. He waits for the party on the other end to answer.
Dr. Monroe
“Hi, beautiful.” He laughs. “No, I’m the other guy, your husband…. The lights slowly fade as he continues talking to his wife.