Come Find Me
Page 2
My goodness is that-?
Henry: (a warning)
I’m just going to stand here...
Beat.
Tilly: (recovering)
I’m sorry, Papa. (quick beat) Is that dung?
Henry: It is.
Tilly: Why are you cutting into it?
Henry: I’m studying it.
Tilly: Is it... yours?
Henry: Of course not. It’s a patient’s.
Tilly: So why are you-
Henry: I’m studying the bacteria that is causing my patient mental stress. Did you make a bowel movement this morning?
Tilly: Did I “make” one?
Henry: Did. You. Defecate.
Tilly: Yes.
Henry: Good. Every day, Tilly. You understand?
Tilly: Yes. Why?
Henry: Fecal stasis leads to bacterial poisoning of the brain.
Beat.
Tilly: Papa, I screamed last night. Didn’t you hear me?
Henry: Can’t say I did. Nightmare?
Tilly: ...sort of?
Henry: Well, you know nightmares are silly. Next time just tell yourself you’re dreaming and go back to sleep.
Tilly: Ok, I’ll try that next time.
Henry: Good girl.
Tilly: What’s your favorite opera, Papa?
Henry: I don’t listen to music much. Tilly, I’m working, can we-
Tilly: Surely you have a favorite opera!
Henry: I really don’t, I-
Tilly: Everyone has a favorite opera!
Henry: (exasperated)
The one in Paris where everyone is poor.
Tilly: La Boheme? Oh la Boheme is beautiful. Good choice Papa.
Henry: Thank you.
Tilly: I miss Ludwig.
Henry: Who?
Tilly: Von Beethoven? (quick beat.) Ludwig Von Beethoven? (quick beat.) Papa?
Henry: Yes yes. Dead composer.
Tilly: Oh no, he’s not dead! Not to me. Yes, his body died in 1827 at the age of fifty-six during a thunderstorm, but - Did you know that bit of trivia, Papa? People say that at the exact moment of his death there was a peal of thunder! Like the sky needed to cry and scream at the idea of losing him. Or maybe the sky was celebrating him? I’m not sure. I was listening to as many of his works as I could back at home. When you listen to someone that much they feel like a friend.
Beat.
Henry: Would you like me to see about bringing a gramophone into your room? I’m sure the staff could find you some recordings if you like.
Tilly: YES PAPA YES THANK YOU I LOVE YOU!!!!!
Beat.
Henry: Alright. I uh – Good.
Tilly: I wish we had recordings of Mama. That way she could stay alive and feel like a friend too. Do I sound like her?
Henry: I don’t think so, no.
Tilly: Do I look like her?
Beat.
For the first time since she entered, he really takes her in.
Henry: ...a bit.
Tilly: Which bit?
Henry: What?
Tilly: Which bit? My eyes my nose my cheeks my hair my face my freckles?
Beat.
Henry: Yes.
Tilly beams.
She wraps her arms around him.
He stands stiffly and attempts to continue working.
Tilly: Did you always want children?
Henry: Men don’t want children, women want children.
Tilly: Oh.
Silence.
Henry: Tilly, I’m not always able to - (quick beat.) I’ll have the gramophone set up before your bedtime.
SCENE FOUR
The sounds of tooth brushing.
Susan: Why are you still wearing your heels?
Ilda: I always wear my heels.
Susan: In your nightgown?
Ilda: In my every gown. (quick beat.) Why do you suppose they don’t have high-heeled slippers?
Susan: Is that a serious question?
Ilda: You bet.
Susan: You’re making me anxious. Kick them off. Relax.
Ilda: I can’t.
Susan: Why not?
Ilda: My heels don’t reach.
Susan: Don’t reach what?
Ilda: The ground.
Susan: Your heels don’t reach the ground???
Ilda: Nope. You spend a lifetime propped up on spikes, your body starts to shrink. Well your calf muscles do anyway.
Susan: Mom, that’s awful!
Ilda: Nothing to be done.
Susan: You should see a doctor.
Ilda: No thank you.
They resume brushing.
Silence except for the sound of their bristles.
Ilda: You’re doing a great job with your brushing sweetie.
Susan: Thank you.
Ilda: Thorough.
Susan: Ok.
Beat.
Suddenly, Ilda attacks Susan with her own toothbrush, shoving it into her mouth.
Susan:
Ilda:
Susan:
Ilda:
Susan:
Susan wrestles the toothbrush out of her mouth.
Susan: What the hell are you doing??!??!
Ilda: Oh I’m sorry. You used to do that to me all the time.
Susan: What!?
Ilda: You used to shove your toothbrush down my throat.
Susan: No I did not!
Ilda: You did. When you were a baby, you were obsessed with brushing teeth. Your teeth, my teeth. Thomas’ teeth. Well, for the brief moment he was around... You wanted to “help.” Always had a huge smile on your face while you did it. One day you started gagging me with the toothbrush though. (quick beat) You ok?
Susan: (stroking her neck, recovering)
I guess so???
Ilda: Oh I’m sorry, sweetheart. You know, you used to hit me over the head constantly too. Over and over again I said “ Gentle Suzie, gentle!” I showed you the soft way a hand can caress a person’s head instead of bashing on it...
She demonstrates the caress on Susan’s head.
Showed you how you could brush your teeth gently instead of ripping the bristles across your gums, like you were always...
Susan: Why is your thumb in my mouth?
Ilda: When do I ever do that though? Tenderly stroke a person’s face? Your face? I don’t do things like that, do I?
She’s stroking Susan’s face.
Susan: I don’t... Not usually? But-
Ilda: I remember going to your nine-month checkup. The doctor told me I should be brushing your teeth. I had no idea. You only had three! Three teeth and I was already supposed to be brushing them? Like I didn’t already have enough to do? (Beat) We’re always in the next stage. You ever notice that? We never land. Always suddenly in the next stage and always already falling behind. It’s exhausting and too quick and...
Beat.
I’m not gentle. I’m hard. (quick beat.) You’d think after all I’ve... You’d think I’d be more...
Susan: Mom, are you ok? Do you want to maybe...
Ilda: Lie down? Yeah, you’re right, lemme – I should lie down.
Susan guides her toward her bed.
Did I say that correctly? Is it lay down or “lie” down? I’m approaching eighty and there are some words I will just never conjugate properly. I lie, you lay, she lays? She has lain...? I guess some things we’ll never figure out.
Susan: Lay down, Mama. Or – lie down. I actually don’t know the difference either.
Ilda: Ha! So, I’m not alone.
She gets in bed.
Susan: You’re not alone.
Susan tucks her in and shuts off the light.
SCENE FIVE
Moonlight Sonata plays softly.
Tilly sits on her bed, listening.
It’s dim in her room except for her lantern.
After a bit, she picks up her violin and starts trying to play along.
Margot: Come fiiiiiiind me.
Tilly shuts off the music.
She sits and listens.
Silence.
She turns the music back on. She continues to practice.
Margot: Come fiiiiiind me.
She shuts off the music.
She listens.
Silence.
She turns the music back on.
Margot: Come fiiiiii-
Tilly: Stop. Please.
Tilly shuts off the music.
Margot reveals herself.
Margot: You don’t know how to play hide-n-seek, do you?
Tilly: Of course I do.
Margot: Oh. Well then you should be more skilled at it than you’re currently demonstrating. Count to ten. I’ll hide and you come-
Tilly: No.
Margot: Why not?
Tilly: You frighten me.
Margot: Really? Why?
Tilly: Because you scratch at the walls, you moan and cry for hours every day, this is the second time you’ve broken into my room, and the other night you snuck up on me in the dark and screamed in my face.
Margot: Oh. I can see how that might- (quick beat) I’ll work on that.
Tilly: You’ll work on what?
Margot: All of it. I’m working on all of it. But it doesn’t seem to be helping.
Margot peels a paint chip off the wall and eats it.
Tilly watches.
Tilly: You just ate a paint chip.
Margot: I did.
Tilly: Are you... hungry or something?
Margot: Not particularly.
She peels another paint strip from the wall and offers it to Tilly.
Want a taste?
Tilly: Not... particularly.
Beat.
She watches Margot munch on the paint.
Tilly: So you live here?
Margot: “Live” isn’t the word I would use to describe it. But yes, I am here. Here I am. Aren’t I?
Tilly: Yes.
Margot: And so are you. What’s a little girl like you doing here? Surely you haven’t done anything to deserve this.
Tilly: I’ve done things. Bad things. But I’m not- (quick beat.) Have you...? ...done something to deserve this?
Margot: Depends on who you ask.
Beat.
For the record, I didn’t break into your room. There’s a tunnel.
Tilly: What?? A tunnel? Where?!
Margot: Between our rooms. But other places too.
Tilly: I need to tell my father and get those sealed up right away!
Margot: Your father?
Beat.
Tilly: I’m not a patient. My name is Tilly Cotton. My father is-
Margot: The new doctor is your daddy???
Tilly: Yes.
She leaps toward Tilly.
Margot: (fiercely)
Get your fanny over here!!
Tilly: No! What are you-!?
Tilly runs.
She chases her.
Margot: I’m going to hold you hostage until he frees me from this nightmare!!
Tilly: No! Don’t hurt me!! Please!!
She freezes.
Margot: I would never hurt you. Or any child. Ever.
Tilly: Ok...
Beat.
Margot: It was a joke.
Tilly: Perhaps you’re not very funny.
Margot: That’s the general consensus. (quick beat) Echhh. I’m thirsty.
Tilly: Do you have water in your room?
Margot: Not until morning mush-time.
Tilly: Well I still have some of my nightly tea here.
Margot: Ha, “nightly tea!”
Tilly: It’s a bit cool now, but you’re welcome to it.
Margot: Well that’s – Thank you.
Tilly hands her the cup of tea.
Margot gestures to the bed.
Margot: May I?
Tilly: Alright.
They sit on the edge of Tilly’s bed.
Margot sips.
It’s quiet a moment.
Margot: I’ve only seen your father from a distance. Small man.
Tilly: Oh no! Papa is very large and strong.
Margot: If he’s taller than five and a half feet then I’m an antelope’s udder.
Tilly: A what?
Margot: I don’t – Sayings and phrases aren’t always my- (quick beat) Rest assured, your father is miniscule.
Tilly: He’s a genius.
Margot: Is that right?
Tilly: Yes. He’s going to make you better.
Margot: Fantastic. I’ll hold my breath.
Beat.
Tilly: Can I give you some advice?
Margot: Please! I’d love advice from a wealthy adolescent who knows absolutely nothing of the world.
Tilly: Make sure you defecate every single day. Several times a day if you can. That’s very important to your mental health.
Margot: Why?
Tilly: It just is. Also, after every meal, make sure you suck on an acidic fruit. Lemons and limes are best. Don’t just bite it, you want to really coat every single tooth with the acids. It keeps your teeth and gums in optimal condition.
Margot: Are you certain about that?
Tilly: Yes. Healthy teeth are the key to becoming an emotionally stable female.
Margot: I had no idea. All this time I just needed to be sucking on lemons and my life may have turned out differently.
Tilly: Well, now you know.
Beat.
My father is really wonderful
Margot: Hmm.
Tilly: He is.
Margot: Because I’ve heard his methods are a bit-
Tilly: (cutting her off)
He’s all I have.
Margot: People are saying –
Tilly: Please don’t speak poorly of him. He’s all I have.
Beat.
Margot: I’m sorry.
Tilly: I don’t deserve him. I’ve done things. Bad things.
Margot: What could a sweet girl like you possibly have done?
Beat.
Tilly: I killed my mother.
SCENE SIX
Susan & Ilda are lying in bed, moonlight pouring through the window.
Ilda: Is this strange, lying in bed, spooning your mother?
Susan: Completely.
Ilda: Well I appreciate it.
Susan: Not a problem.
They lay in silence a moment.
Ilda: I assumed I’d be having a sleepover of a different kind tonight. You really need to find a lover like Jeremy. Susan, I’m amazed at the power this man wields in his hips, it’s truly-
Susan: Mom?
Ilda: Yes dear?
Susan: I fully support your new endeavor, but could you not discuss it while my body is wrapped around yours? It’s just a little...
Ilda: I understand. Of course. That’s fair.
Susan: Thank you.
Ilda: I’ll give you all the details later.
Susan: Can’t wait.
Silence.
Ilda: Oh, I’m sorry! You wouldn’t want a Jeremy, would you. You’d want a-a-a... a Gina. Or a Jenny or a-a-a- (quick beat.) Could you tell me her name? I’d really love to know her name.
Susan: Mom. I know you’re confused by what’s going on with me. Her name is Rebecca, but-
Ilda: Rebecca!!!
Susan: Easy... It’s just – it’s new and, I don’t know, not confusing exactly but... special? Maybe! I don’t know if it’s special, but it feels like it might be and for that reason I’d sort of like to keep it to myself. For now.
Ilda: Oh.
Beat.
Susan: You understand, right?
Ilda: Sure sure.
Susan: Because, I mean, there are certainly things you don’t talk about either.
Ilda: Not true!
Susan: Tell me about your parents.
Ilda: (changing the subject)
Can I play with your arm?
Susan: Excuse me?
Ilda: You used to come into my room every night when you were a toddler. “Mama, can I play with your arm?”
Susan: Why did I want to play with your arm?
Ilda: Gave you comfort I guess. You were afraid of the dark, but as long as you were poking at my arm you felt safe. Drove me crazy. I couldn’t sleep. But you could and that was the important thing.
Susan: Is that why we’re doing this? You’re afraid of the dark?
Ilda: I’m afraid of a lot of things.
Susan: Since when?
Silence.
Susan: Mom?
Ilda: IT’S A FULL MOOOON!!!!!!
Susan: (startled)
Geezus Christ!
Ilda starts jumping up and down on the bed in glee.
Ilda: Jumping jumping jumping jumping jumping!
Susan: Will you stop!! What the hell are you-?
Ilda: Look! Look! Look! Look! Look!
Susan: At what? The moon?!
Ilda: (still jumping)
Yes! Look look look look look!
Susan: STOP JUMPING AND SCREAMING!!
Ilda stops jumping.
Ilda: Respect your elders, young lady. You know that in many ancient societies, elderly women were revered and considered the most wise.
Susan: I have heard that, yes.
Ilda: Well then act accordingly, missy.
Susan: I’m sorry, you just – Man, you freak me out sometimes!
Ilda: Do I?
Susan: Yes.
Ilda: Oh. (Beat) Oh oh oh. I’m incredibly disappointed in myself right now.
Susan: Why?
Ilda: I should have known it was a full moon. I wasn’t paying enough attention. Too caught up in - (quick beat.) You feel that bit of cosmic madness rolling through you now that I mention it, don’t you? Quick, place your hands directly over your uterus.
Susan: Why would I-?
Ilda: Just do it please. Beautiful mother-daughter moment coming right up!
Susan: Mom-