To Bury a Poet

(The only scenery is a single bench center, preferably of white stone but in any event hard and stark. NICK is slouched on it, staring at nothing. He is about seventeen, and wears a black jacket and tie.

ANDY enters, from left. He is younger, fourteen or fifteen, dressed similarly. He moves and speaks tentatively at first, perhaps fidgeting or pacing, not looking at NICK.)

ANDY: Hey Nick. (Silence.) Can we talk?

NICK: (Without looking, level and cold) I don't know.

ANDY: Yeah. Um. It's been a tough day. (NICK glances at him.) I mean, ah. . . (Turns to NICK) He was my brother.

NICK: Yeah. He was.

ANDY: It's hard to watch, when they bury your brother. And you came, so. . .

NICK: Of course I came!

ANDY: Yeah. But, you came. And we're at his funeral together, facing. . . that. . . together. (Firmer) And I think that means we can talk. (They look at each other for a moment. NICK looks away first. HE stands and moves R slightly.)

NICK: I liked what you said back there, during the ceremony. It was nice.

ANDY: Sam was always the good one with words.

NICK: He would have liked it.

ANDY: Thanks. I was surprised you didn't say anything.

NICK: You didn't know?

ANDY: What?

NICK: I asked to speak. Your parents wouldn't let me.

ANDY: Wouldn't let you? But you were his. . . (He sees it.)

NICK: I was his boyfriend. Exactly. (ANDY slumps onto the bench) I never understood that about Sam, why he was afraid of them. I couldn't imagine being afraid of your own parents. But, Andy, they looked at me like. . .

ANDY: They were upset. It's hard for them too.

NICK: What's hard, Andy? That Sam's dead? Or that he was gay? (ANDY looks away, blinks back tears.) Was that the hard part, Andy? Was that. . . (Long pause.) I'm sorry. I've been. . . very angry.

ANDY: They're my parents, Nick. Since I was old enough to understand, they taught me. . . everything. Everything I believe. They taught me not to lie, not to steal, not to fight. They taught me how to pray. When they teach me something, I believe it.

NICK: Not just you.

ANDY: Yeah. Sam too. Although, I was always the one who got the lectures on morality and proper behavior. Sam could do no wrong. Dad was so damn proud of him.

NICK: He was pretty special. Did you ever read any of his poetry? (ANDY's head snaps around. NICK is facing the other way and does not see.)

ANDY: (Cautiously) Yeah.

NICK: His poems were so. . . free. Like there was something caged inside him that could only come out on paper. Did you see the one. . . no, you wouldn't have. He showed it to me once, to explain why he believed in God. It went, um, "The clouds call down in the voice of the sky / The waves on the sand give a whispered reply" . . . um. . .

ANDY: (Stands) "Over and over they echo the call / That rang out on the first day, creating them all."

NICK: Yeah. I never argued with him about God again. I couldn't ask him to give up something so. . . joyous. (He looks at ANDY) He told me he never showed that poem to anyone but me.

ANDY: Oh. Yeah. I, ah, read it in his journal.

NICK: You read his journal?

ANDY: I just found it lying out. I was just going to flip through it and put it down, but I saw a page that looked different, and went back to read it. It was that poem. I sat down and read it, and then I found all the other poems and read them. I didn't read anything else, just the poems.

NICK: It was just that one time?

ANDY: Yeah. . . no. I looked again after he. . . died. I was so afraid, that night, I had to look. I had to know why. But all it said was "They don't understand. I can't stand it. May God forgive me. . ."

NICK: You knew why, Andy.

ANDY: You weren't there. It's different, just hearing about it. I was the one who found him. His eyes were open. I thought he was looking at me, but he didn't move, and there was so much blood. . . (The two are opposite each other D R and L, facing away from each other)

NICK: I would have listened to him! I would have helped him! I would have. . . done anything. . .

ANDY: He was my big brother, he was the perfect one, and he was. . . (he turns back to NICK) You were. . . (NICK straigtens, fists clenched at his sides, still not looking at ANDY) He was happy and normal and then you came and now he's dead! You. . . you. . . (he cannot say it)

NICK: (levelly and quietly, still not turning around) You bastard. Do you have any idea how much he cared about you? Did you ever see his eyes when you were angry or hurt? I was jealous of you because no matter how much he loved me there was something between you two I could never have because you were his brother. And as soon as you knew, the minute you saw us kissing you ran and told your father! You. . . (he can't say it either.)

ANDY: That's not true. . .

NICK : It is and you know it!

ANDY: No, I mean, that as soon as I knew I told Dad.

NICK: (Whispered) What?

ANDY: When I followed you two into the woods, I already knew. I'd known for months. (Pulls a small leather-bound book from his pocket.) Ever since I read his journal.

NICK: You said. . .

ANDY: I said I only read the poems. The last one was about you.

NICK: Oh my God.

ANDY: I thought at first he must have a girlfriend, no matter how much he denied it. He was so happy and goofy all the time. And then he left his journal out, and I was a little curious, and I flipped through it. I saw a page that looked different.

NICK: Oh, no.

ANDY: I knew what Dad and Mom would say, and he seemed like the same old Sam, only he laughed more. So I didn't say anything. (Starts slowly moving C, journal still in his hand) But I just kept thinking, "It's a sin, it's a sin." My perfect brother, who I looked up to so much, was sinning against God and didn't care. (Sits on the L side of the bench) One day you came over and said you two were going for a walk in the woods. I don't know why I followed, but when I saw you I couldn't stand it anymore.

NICK: (Sits beside ANDY) Andy, I don't believe in God, but for what it's worth, Sam didn't think it was a sin. He said God wouldn't condemn love.

ANDY: He said that to Dad. But Dad just kept yelling, and Mom just kept crying, and finally Sam just started shaking and couldn't stop. Finally they let him go to his room, and the next morning I. . . found him. Oh, God, I'm so sorry, you're right, it was me, I. . .

NICK: (Interrupting) He killed himself, Andy. It wasn't either of us. He killed himself.

ANDY: (After a long silence) That's not enough, Nick.

NICK: No. It isn't. But it's the truth.

ANDY: If my parents had let you speak today, what would you have said? (NICK pulls a piece of paper out of his pocket and hands it to ANDY. He reads it.) Oh, wow. Nick. . . (offers him the journal) I want you to have this.

NICK: Sam's journal? But your parents. . .

ANDY: I don't think they even know about it. And if they do, I don't care. You should have it. Half of it's about you anyway. (NICK looks it over, then opens it to a page near the end.)

NICK: He never showed me this. . . (reading) "I see him instead of sunsets, I hear him instead of raindrops."

ANDY: (reading from NICK's eulogy) "We have come to mourn Sam's death, for he was a son and a brother, a lover and a poet."

NICK: (stands) "He is a joy I cannot banish and a light I cannot hide."

ANDY: (also stands) "But we also mourn for ourselves. For when we bury a poet, there is less poetry in the world, and when we bury a lover, less love."

NICK: "He is young and bright and beautiful, and so precious are all things bright and beautiful that I will not let him go."

ANDY: "And now that he is gone we are each less. All we have is the memory of his joy and love, and if we do not remember the truth of what he was, he will be truly gone, forever."

NICK: "He is my heart and my life, and without him I am lost and dim, and I will stay with him forever."

BOTH: Amen.

END

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Author's Note:

I've had this scene in my head for a while, and I've written it a few different ways. This is the one I like best. It really was intended to be seen, not read - there's a whole lot of subtext that you can't immediately pick up on just by reading the words. I suggest reading it twice, so you really get what's going on at the beginning.

Reviews, of course, are welcome, especially since this is the first real script I've done. Thanks in advance.