The
following is an excerpt from my play, MOTHER'S NO DUMMY!, Copyright © 2002 by Tommy
Van Stitzel . MOTHER'S NO DUMMY! is a two-act comedy play with two
actors. Jennifer and her mother, Elsie
Mae, are in the “psychic-hearing” business.
Elsie Mae, we are told, is deaf and blind in one eye but supposedly
hears “spirits” through the radio. In
fact, she is only a dummy, manipulated by the two actors throughout the
play. Jennifer, assistant to the
psychic, is probably telepathic. She
is a wanna-be actress who occasionally lapses into play-acting the role of the
legendary Guinevere. Man, vulnerable
as an amnesiac, comes to the “psychic” for help with remembering who he
is. What develops between Jennifer, a woman
who pretends she’s someone else, and Man, who doesn’t know who he is, becomes a
battle for control over Elsie Mae and ultimately, over each other. Or is this love?
One
at a time, ladies and gentlemen. One
at a time, please. You will all have
your chance with the psychic.
Thank
you ladies and gentlemen. It appears
that we have our first subject.
Welcome. Elsie Mae will hear you now.
Elsie
Mae?
No,
she's Elsie Mae. I'm her assistant.
Quite
an unruly crowd you’ve got out there.
Never
come between a believer and her psychic, I always say. It’s a risky business.
Booming,
I’d say.
We
get by.
Get
by? Twenty-five, thirty-five dollars a
head out there should add up to a sweet sum in a day’s time.
This
session with the psychic will be five dollars, sir, no checks and you may tip
the assistant on your way out. Please,
take a seat at the table.
Oh,
yes, of course!
Not
there.
Oops,
sorry.
There.
This
is your first time, then?
Yes,
I think.
You
think? Don't you know?
No. That's why I'm here.
You're
here because you don't know if you've been here before?
That's
right. Listen, I know that this must
sound strange but I’m here because I don't know what else to do … where else to go.
Have
you done something wrong?
Like
what?
Illegal! If the authorities are looking for you,
then I think that it's best that you leave immediately.
No,
I haven't done anything wrong or at least I don't think so.
I
really think it is best that you leave.
Please! Help me!
I’m
sorry. We can’t have any trou …
Please! You don’t understand. I have nowhere else to go.
Go
home, sir.
Where’s
that? You see, I don’t remember! I don’t remember anything! Anything!
I’ve
killed him! Oh dear god, I’ve killed
him!
It’s
all right, folks. Nothing to worry
about. It’s just another visit from
Shirley MacLaine.
The
rumors, that this gracious and gentle knight is my lover, are perpetrated by
her, the other, of course! Thank the
Lord that my people cannot, do not, believe such a lowly thing about their
Queen, their Guinevere. Though he is
quite handsome and dear to me. Why,
just look how he sleeps like the innocent babe that he is! It does stir my heart just to look upon him
so but no
matter! I am ever faithful to my husband, my king,
my Arthur! But it remains that there
is that witch, that vixen, that other who tells the court otherwise! If only Arthur were not so easily swayed by
her seductions; he would not be so blinded in his faith in me; leaving me to
depend on the devoted bravery of this sweetly slumbering being.
Thank
god! He’s alive!
You’re
still alive, sir! What is it? What’s the matter? Don’t you feel well? You look terrible. You look ill. You should get help … medical help, that is.
Well,
don’t just sit there! Help me!
Here! Drink this!
Oh,
dear, what do I do? A doctor, do you
think? The police? What?
No, you’re right! Never the
police!
Sir? Sir, don’t you think you should wake up
now? This is most indelicate. NAPPING COSTS EXTRA!
What
happened?
Did
you see a white light?
No,
I don’t think so.
Then
you passed out.
Why
am I all wet?
You
… YOU had an accident! YOU spilled your
water!
How
clumsy of me.
Yes,
very. How do you feel now?
I’m
not sure.
Good.
Weak.
That’s
nice. Then if you don’t mind, you
should leave.
I
can’t.
Other
poor souls are waiting.
I
can’t. I won’t … until she tells me
who I am!
I
don’t understand.
I’ve
been trying to explain. I don’t remember
who I am. No, not remember. I don’t know who I am. It’s as if I never knew.
Of
that I have my doubts. What’s your
name?
Name?
Yes,
what people call you?
What
people?
Your
family?
Do
I have one?
Everyone
has a family. I have one.
Then
I’ve forgotten it seems.
What
am I to call you? What do you call
yourself?
I
don’t know!
You
have amnesia!
Do
I?
That’s
the condition that you’re describing.
But
it sounds so peculiar when you say it.
Amnesia. It sounds like a
disease.
Perhaps
yours is caused by one. Oh, dear, you
could be contagious. You had better
leave now.
I
can’t. She’s my only hope. She’s got to tell me who I am.
Why
Elsie Mae?
She’s
the psychic, isn’t she?
Oh,
yes, of course, but it doesn’t take a psychic to tell you who you are. Look in you pocket.
Huh?
You
have a big bulge there.
Madam!
Your
wallet, sir.
Oh,
I thought you meant … how embarrassing.
Look
in your wallet. At your
identification. You must have
identification.
Waaal
let. My wallet! Yes, of course! How stupid that I would forget about my wallet. See what I mean … about remembering, I mean.
Yes,
we see. Now, your wallet?
Ah,
yes, of course.
Now
all will be made clear and then you must leave.
No
wallet.
No
wallet?
No
wallet. Just this sandwich.
A
sandwich? What kind?
It
looks like seafood.
Tuna?
Smells
all right.
I
like tuna.
Crab.
Crab? I've never had crab.
Crab. Crab.
What a funny sounding word.
Craaaab. Want half?
It’s
early yet.
Is
it? But I’m hungry. Hungry?
Huuuun greeee. Hungry.
Stop
that, would you!
Sorry
but words are funny, aren’t they?
Coming
from you …
Say,
want half a sandwich?
You’ve
already …
Here. Can’t have it go bad, can we?
Well,
if you insist.
So,
no wallet?
No
identification?
Nothing.
This
is not good, sir.
The
sandwich?
Your
situation.
Tell
me about it.
Yes,
I see what you mean.
No,
I mean, tell me about it. Explain my
situation. Why I can’t remember! Tell me who I am! You’re the psychic!
She
is.
Oh,
hello.
You
sure?
That’s
what she tells me.
You
don’t know?
Since
I have no ability of my own, I only know what she tells me.
She
in a trance?
No. Why do you ask?
She
doesn’t seem to be listening.
She’s
deaf …
I'm
sorry.
And
she’s blind in one eye.
Oh,
I'm very sorry.
That's
all right. It's her evil eye.
How
does she communicate?
With
the living or the dead?
Well,
let’s start with the living.
She
doesn’t speak often but when she does, she signs. I’m her interpreter.
And
uh, how does she communicate with … you know, the dead?
The
radio.
Excuse
me.
The
spirits speak to her through the radio.
The
radio? But she’s deaf.
The
spiritual radio broadcasts twenty-four hours a day and one may spiritually tune
in at any time.
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