Act 1 Scene 1
A/N: Written for my theatre arts class, in case my teacher happens upon this and thinks I've playgiarized.
[In the kitchen of the MCCURRY household. It's Saturday afternoon. Light streams in from the windows above the sink as KIMBERLY MCCURRY does the dishes. A simple round wooden table takes up the center of the kitchen, and the counter beneath the cabinets is bare.
THOMAS enters. ]
KIMBERLY: [turning off the faucet, facing her son and wiping her hands on a towel] I was wondering when you would show up. You know, I would like to get to see you every now and then.
THOMAS: [ yawns] Mornin', Mom.
KIMBERLY: Morning? It's nearly 3 pm! Don't tell me you've just gotten up.
THOMAS: [shrugs] Alright, then… I won't tell you.
KIMBERLY: It's Saturday, and you're wasting it sleeping…Shouldn't you be out with your friends?
THOMAS: [moving to inspect the bare counter] Don't have any friends anymore, remember Mom?
KIMBERLY: Oh, stop it Thomas. What about that boy that used to come over here? What was his name…? Bradley?
THOMAS: [laughs humorlessly] You mean Bryan?
KIMBERLY: Yes! Him. You guys have known each other since, what, third grade?
THOMAS: [takes a moment to answer, but when he does, it's indifferent] Fifth.
KIMBERLY: You used to play Little League with him. Do you remember that? And that other boy…Victor…
THOMAS: [snorts] Yeah…right…
KIMBERLY: What's the 'yeah right' for? You guys used to be inseparable.
THOMAS: Come off it, Mom. I just told you I was hanging out with them when I didn't want you to know where I was really going. [frowns and opens the cabinets] Of course…a lot of the time, I was going there with them but…that's beside the point…
KIMBERLY: [disbelievingly] So you're telling me you guys were never friends?
THOMAS: Oh, we were friends…or I thought so…but I wouldn't use the word 'inseparable'—we're separated now, aren't we?…Where's the cereal?
KIMBERLY: We're out. You need to go shopping, remember? [pulls out a list and places it on the table] So, why don't you go out now and go wherever it is you 'really go'?
THOMAS: [closing cabinets] Trying to get rid of me, Mom? Have a date or something?
KIMBERLY: Of course not! Don't be ridiculous, Thomas. It's just…is everything alright?
THOMAS: Yeah, everything's fine. Peachy. Perfect. Why?
KIMBERLY: You haven't been acting like yourself lately…
THOMAS: [unruffled ] You keep saying that.
KIMBERLY: Because it's true! Do you—[bites down on lip ] Do you miss your father? Is that it?
THOMAS: [laughing sardonically] I'm not a kid, Mom. I'm not going to go cry just because Daddy's gone.
KIMBERLY: [sounding a bit put off] Well, what's the problem then?
THOMAS: [easily] Don't have a problem.
KIMBERLY: [exasperated] Well something's wrong.
THOMAS: [slightly belligerent] What? Because I don't hang out anymore with friends? Because I quit baseball?
KIMBERLY: That, and you're grades have been dropping, and you keep coming home all battered up…Look at you… Are you getting bullied?
THOMAS: [amused] Chill out, Mom. Nothing's wrong. I'm not getting bullied.
KIMBERLY: And when's the last time you touched your guitar?
KIMBERLY: You see, now, there's the problem. If you're not disturbing the neighbors in the middle of the night with your horrible attempts at song writing, I know something's wrong.
THOMAS: Gee, thanks, Mom. You really know how to inspire people.
KIMBERLY: You know I was just joking, Thomas. [more solemn ] I know I keep bringing it up, but if you'd just talk to me…If nothing's wrong, than why are you acting this way?
THOMAS: [hesitates] I…just don't see the point.
KIMBERLY: The point? The point of what?
THOMAS: Of anything, really. [picks up the list from the table] I'm gonna get these, alright? Maybe pick up some lunch.
[THOMAS heads out of the kitchen.]
KIMBERLY: Wait just a second, young man! You don't see the point of—of anything?
THOMAS: [calling from the hall] Let's talk later, Mom. I really want to do this and then go back to sleep.
KIMBERLY: [frowning, raising her voice] The money's in the top drawer.
THOMAS: Got it!
[There is the sound of the front door slamming shut.]
KIMBERLY: [to herself ] Oooh, I don't know what to do with that boy. I don't even know if I should be worried or if this is just another phase. He's sixteen. Sixteen year olds are crazy, and notoriously melodramatic, but they turn out okay in the end… I turned out okay…right?
[KIMBERLY sighs and sinks down into a chair next to the table, burying her face in her hands.]
KIMBERLY: [angrily] Oh, Evan. This is all your fault. Why'd you have to go?…[softly, more morose] I wish you were here.