I'll Give You Flowers.By Kim Roberts A couple, in their mid-forties. Can be any race or ethnicity. The stage is empty except for a car seat. MAN and WOMAN are sitting side by side; MAN is driving. WOMAN Well, that wasn’t so bad, was it? MAN Honey... WOMAN Well? MAN That’s hardly a testament to the quality of my relationship with my mother--that I made it through another one of her dinners without strangling her. WOMAN For God’s sake, Kevin. You sound so violent. MAN She makes me feel violent. WOMAN Now you don’t really mean that. You know it. MAN I do. Someday I will reach right across her white Irish linen tablecloth, wrap my two hands tightly around her neck, and strangle her. WOMAN You know how this kind of talk upsets me. I wish you wouldn’t. MAN The three forks and the lace napkins and the silver coffee pot...does she think she’s the fucking Queen of England? WOMAN You know, she isn’t using her good china simply to annoy you personally... MAN And the endless recitation of the ailments! I thought she’d never stop. Who wants to hear her details of her colonoscopy over dessert? WOMAN That was hardly good timing, I concede that. But she’s an old woman, Kevin, and naturally she’s concerned about her health. MAN Oh, she’ll live to be 120. She’s hardy, all right. You watch: she’ll outlive me. WOMAN She might. MAN She’s a wily old buzzard. WOMAN She might outlive you if you go on this way, provoking your poor wife. MAN Provoking my wife? WOMAN Your poor wife might be forced into some drastic action--in bed, later, with a kitchen knife. MAN A threat? From you? A threat of physical violence? WOMAN No, no, no...just consider it a warning. Pause. MAN mimics turning the wheel and both lean to the left, then straighten out again. MAN What was all that about my cousin Irving? WOMAN She did go on, didn’t she? MAN As if Irving was the pinnacle of good taste. WOMAN Mmmm. MAN And what was the point? Flowers? How can anyone be that concerned about flowers? WOMAN Not just flowers. Wedding flowers. MAN Where did she learn her botany? The discussion was interminable. WOMAN Yes. MAN Interminable! WOMAN Yes. MAN Who cares? What’s the point? The arrangements, the color--by God, she delivered an exegesis on flower arrangements! WOMAN But you know why. MAN “The balance of the hues.” What was that about? WOMAN You know why. MAN I know why? WOMAN Kevin, don’t be so obtuse. MAN Obtuse? WOMAN That wasn’t about Irving, that was about us! MAN That was about us. WOMAN Kevin--she’s still harping on the fact that we got married by a Justice of the Peace. We didn’t have a “real wedding.” MAN How do you get this? WOMAN How do you not get this? She’s your mother. And by her reckoning, you cheated her out of the pleasures of flower arrangements and cakes and bridesmaids, and she’s not forgetting it. MAN So this was meant as an insult? That whole conversation? WOMAN Oh, Kevin. MAN Honey, it’s not effective criticism if I don’t get it. WOMAN I thought it was very pointed. MAN Isn’t there a statute of limitations on this stuff? We’re married--what?--six years? WOMAN (Annoyed) Seven! MAN Seven years. Right. I knew that. WOMAN I swear... MAN The topic is old. I mean, she can’t expect us to continue having this same conversation for the next seven years, can she? WOMAN I can’t believe you. MAN If what we had tonight even counts as a conversation. WOMAN Right. MAN Because as I understand it, a conversation is defined as two people actually communicating something to one another. WOMAN As I understand it, both parties in a conversation are actually required to listen to one another. That’s a novel idea. MAN If she wants to make a point, she’s got to be more obvious. WOMAN Obvious? Obvious? MAN She should be your mother. You know how to read her. Me, I need an interpreter. (Pause) Now that I know, I’m insulted. WOMAN Kevin. MAN I’m really hurt. Wounded to the core. WOMAN Listen, you may not care, but I do. MAN I’m bleeding. WOMAN She’s your mother. MAN An accident of birth. WOMAN You’re a heartless son. MAN It stands to reason: if you want to make someone feel guilty, the first goal would be to get them to understand what the hell you’re talking about. WOMAN I thought she was crystal clear. Is it her fault you’re too dense to get a hint? Is it her fault you’re stupid? MAN Technically, yes. If I’m stupid it is her fault. WOMAN By God, you’re obstreperous. MAN That’s “if,” mind you. I make no admissions of stupidity. WOMAN Of course not. MAN Of course not. But they are her genes. WOMAN I feel sorry for her, I really do. She’ll get no comfort from you. MAN If by “comfort” you mean the ability to prod me into feeling guilty. WOMAN You know how she is. Give the old woman some slack. So she’s annoying sometimes. Things could be a lot worse. A lot. MAN (In a mincing tone) “The pale pink hyacinths with the little spray of white baby’s breath...and the--the blue--condominiums.” WOMAN Delphiniums! MAN (in a threatening tone) I’ll give you flowers. WOMAN I’ll give you flowers. MAN I’ll flower you. WOMAN You’re a flower. MAN Flower this. WOMAN In the middle of the night, I swear, when you’re sleeping. With a kitchen knife. And I’ll be entirely justified. ______________________________________________________________________________________________________________ Kim Roberts is the author of a book of poems, The Wishbone Galaxy, and editor of Beltway Poetry Quarterly, an online journal. |
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