Part VII: Time Warp 2000’s – Cut! #3 (Chapter 105)
Dear Mr. G:
You
really shouldn’t have sent the picture.
I
was serious about “no photographs,” so I’m returning it.
I
don’t care about your appearance or what ethnic group you belong to.
What does matter is that you seem to have an eloquent,
philosophical style of writing and that you write about feelings that transcend
the mundane.
I especially liked the paragraph about your mother’s murder.
I’m not exactly sure why I answered your ad.
Intuition, perhaps.
Also, I realize that I haven’t given you much in the way of
information about myself.
You’ll have to bear with me. You’ll understand soon enough,
okay?
About your part in the robbery: well, as a rule, I abhor any
thought of breaking the law, especially when a weapon is involved. You’re just
fortunate that no one was hurt or killed. But in another sense, I can
sympathize with the frustration you must have felt after your wife left and you
couldn’t find a job.
It’s a tough economy right now.
Still, I have some difficulty reconciling the common criminal
who pulled a gun on a 19-year-old bank teller and the man who obviously felt so
much pain and rage when his mother was robbed and killed by a mugger who got
away with $4.00.
You’re like two different people.
I don’t understand your way of life.
When I was growing up, people lived their lives of quiet
desperation ‒ my mother drank and stripped for a living,
and my stepfather left us and took my baby sister with him ‒ but we
didn’t drag our business out onto the streets.
The other night when I was watching one of those cop shows
(something I don’t watch too often, I must admit), I was stunned when the
police car pulled into a driveway and this mountainous woman was hovering over
a shirtless rail of a man whom she had just trussed up with a telephone cord.
She had looped the cord around his neck, so if he moved his hands even
slightly, he would have strangled himself. When the policeman tried cutting the
cord, he had to slice a few times before freeing the man.
How gauche!
Do you have a first name?
S.A.W.
P.S. Let me know if you would like me to send you some treats.
Do you like chocolate?
*
(Darkness. As lights slowly come up to reveal a stage,
“Evil Child,” by B. B. King, plays to its conclusion, fading as the lights come
up. The stage is empty. Aunt Sal
and Aunt Gwen enter. They are
tossing a Twin Bing candy bar back and forth. They treat the candy bar as if it
were something too hot to handle. As each aunt catches the candy bar, she says,
“I don’t want it” before tossing it back to the other. This goes on for about
15 seconds. Goodsam enters. The Aunts continue tossing the candy bar
back and forth, still mumbling.)
Goodsam: (Looking all around, except at The
Aunts.) Where’s my Bing? I know I left it somewhere around here... (Finally notices The Aunts with the candy bar. Stops and rubs her chin.)
Hmmmmm. This presents a dilemma.
Aunt Sal: (Without breaking her stride.) The horns of a dilemma. (To Goodsam.)
You really want this Bing? (Goes back to
exchanging “I don’t want it” with Aunt
Gwen.)
Goodsam: (Hesitant.) I’m not sure. I suppose I could find another one. (To
Audience.) There’s something strange about that Bing, like maybe
it’s missing something important – a candy bar without the sugar. A candy bar
without the candy. Poison. You think I should find another one?
Audience/Offstage Chorus: YES!!!!
Goodsam: (Watches as the candy bar makes an arc toward one of The Aunts.) But I want this Bing – it looks okay. In fact, it
looks beautiful. Shiny, red wrapper. Sweet as sin. Two big mounds of milk
chocolate, crunchy peanuts, creamy cherry nougat. I’d like to sink my teeth
into it!
Audience/Offstage Chorus: Don’t do
it. You’d be sorry.
Goodsam: (Sighing as she watches the candy bar being tossed back and forth.
Whines.) I never get to do anything fun anymore. I wish I could get Badsam
back. (To Audience.)
I shouldn’t admit this, but I really miss that little red devil. I need to find
out the scoop on that Bing. (To The Aunts.) Tell me the story about
Twin Candy Bings.
(The Aunts continue tossing the candy bar back and forth, saying “I don’t want it.”)
Aunt Gwen: Please! We don’t speak of
her here. She’s a bad one, sure to
carry poison and venom in her heart. That name makes me shiver.
Goodsam: I thought we were talking
about Candy.
Aunt Gwen: We are, but in the lower
case. Bings, candy...you don’t want to know what would happen if you took a
bite.
Goodsam: Would I die?
Aunt Sal: Well, not exactly.
Aunt Gwen: You would know things –
Aunt Sal: (To Aunt Gwen.) JUST
HUSH YOUR MOUTH!
Goodsam: Would I know the secrets
of the universe, the real story behind the Higher Power?
Aunt Sal: That’s not for us to
tell.
Aunt Gwen: We do as we are told.
Goodsam: Nana said you would have
the answers to our problem.
Aunt Gwen: (Holds candy bar up.) The answers lie somewhere within this red
wrapper. (Tosses it back to Aunt Sal.)
Goodsam: (Looks all around.) Where is
Badsam, anyway?
(Running
and out of breath, Badsam enters
stage left.)
Badsam: Someone call?
Aunt Sal: (Ignoring Badsam.)
Like I said, some things are best left unsaid. Mother Church has all the
answers we need.
Badsam: (Watches as The Aunts toss
the candy bar back and forth.) What’s up?
Goodsam: The aunts are playing
catch with my Bing. They won’t give it to me.
Badsam: You want it?
Goodsam: I don-n-n’t know.
Badsam: Of course you do. We all
want what we don’t have. (Intercepts the
candy bar on one of its arcs.) See how easy that was?
The Aunts: (Looking extremely relieved. Both wipe their foreheads with
handkerchiefs.) Thank God!!!!
Badsam: (Tries giving the candy bar to Goodsam,
who refuses it and shrinks away.) Come on. You know you want it.
Goodsam: (Shakes her head.) “Thou shalt not steal.”
Badsam: (Holds candy bar out.) “Possession is nine-tenths of the law.” Take
it.
Goodsam: (Reluctantly accepts the candy bar. Looks at it carefully and then
pokes at the wrapper.) Looks innocuous enough. (Tosses it into the air and catches it.) There’s power here.
Aunt Gwen: (Pointing at the candy bar.) It’s your problem now. Sal and I have
been trying to get rid of that thing for an eternity.
Aunt Sal: Family secrets under
wraps.
Aunt Gwen: Unfinished business for
the next generation.
Aunt Sal: Put it away, and, for
God’s sake, don’t eat it. Take it far, far away from us.
(The Aunts, arm in arm, start to leave
the stage.)
Goodsam: Wait a minute!
(The Aunts stop.)
Aunt Gwen: (Looks down at her feet. Refuses to look at either Goodsam or Badsam.) Our work is done now. Let us be.
Aunt Sal: We can do only so much.
We have given you the answers. (Points at
the candy bar.) You just need to find them.
(The Aunts exit stage left.)
Goodsam: I am afraid to partake of
this Bing. (Cups the candy bar in her
hands and raises it in front of her face. To the candy bar:) I shall offer
you up, my lovely. (Walks toward the Audience to end of stage. Stands center
stage, sets the candy bar down in front of Herself,
and makes the Sign of the Cross over it.) “Hoc est enim Corpus meum.” (Then she picks the candy bar up and
elevates it above her head with both hands.) “My Lord and my God, Twin
Candy Bings!”
(“We are Family,” by Sister Sledge, plays. As music fades, lights dim. Darkness. Curtain.)