25 Aug 2015

PROMPT:  When they moved in next door, my father had a lot to say but nothing I dared repeat to anyone.

Kristen Gandrow, writer/dramaturg/arts administrator/teacher 

Ron, middle-aged, stands at the window peaking out between the curtains.  Margie, his wife, enters.
RON
Did you see what’s moved in next door, Margie?
MARGIE
They are not a what, they are a who.  The Henderson’s.
RON
I count three teenage girls!  One black and two brown, but the parents look white.
MARGIE
They are white.  They’re foster parents.  The girls aren’t really theirs.  They belong to the state.  They moved because their old house didn’t have enough room.
RON
What do you mean foster parents?  They treat those kids like they’re their own.  Hugging them and talking to them and smiling and laughing with them.
MARGIE
I think they think of them as their own children.
RON
And the girls!  They seem happy!
MARGIE
Their children, Ron.  Sometimes they are happy despite their problems.
RON
Those girls are going to be out in the backyard smoking marijuana.  There’s going to be young men... thugs... going in and out of the house...
MARGIE
It’s a little scary, but they seem like nice people...
RON
And they have a dog...
MARGIE
Barkie.
RON
What?!
MARGIE
Barkie the dog.  That’s the dog’s name.  They said if she was ever making noise...
RON
I’ll get out my gun.
MARGIE
You will not get out your gun!  Jeez, you sound like an old coot.
RON
I am an old coot!
MARGIE
You’re not an old coot.  You’re just scared.
RON
I don’t like strangers.
MARGIE
I know.  So why don’t you go next door and meet them.
RON
What will they think?
MARGIE
You keep peaking out the window instead of introducing yourself, and they’ll think your some kinda pervert.
RON
(hesitant)
What will I say?
MARGIE
How about “Hi, welcome to the neighborhood?”
RON
I can’t say that!
MARGIE
Then how ‘bout “Hi, I’m the creepy old man that will be peaking through the curtains at you for the next thirty years.”
Silence.
RON
That’s not funny.
MARGIE
No, it’s sad.
RON
You know teenagers scare me.
MARGIE
Not just teenagers.
Silence.
MARGIE
Suck it up, old man.  Time to act like an adult.  Teenagers are going to be living next door to us for a long time.  Going in and out.  Dressing weird, getting tattoos, smoking and drinking who knows what, sneaking out late at night.  The police will probably show up more than once and at all hours of the day or night.
RON
(muttering)
Shit.
MARGIE
We’re the village.  We have to help those people.  Who knows what kind of hell those children have been through and we have to help, and not pull the covers up over our heads and hide.  I know you believe that.
RON
I... I do.
MARGIE
Then march out that door, put a smile on your puss, and say...
(waving)
 “Howdy.”  Or are you the idiot in this village?
RON
(grumpy)
I didn’t ask for this responsibility.
MARGIE
You didn’t ask to be born rich, white, male, and American either, but you won the lottery.  Time to give something back... to our neighbors!
Silence.
RON
(ashamed)
I’m lucky I married you.
MARGIE
Damn right!
Ron give Margie and hug and a kiss on the cheek and exits.
End of play.