Scene

The action takes place in a junkyard, early evening. Miscellaneous items are strewn around. Elizabeth sits on a chair or something comfortable so that her arm which holds Sock has mobility, perhaps on a large cardboard box where she can live. Her space is separated from the others. Tera, Preacher, and Lorenzo's spaces are near each other. Damon's space is separate. On stage is an old trash can. The time is 1994.

Characters

• ELIZABETH (SOCK), a woman in her late forties
• PREACHER, a woman in her fifties
• TERA, a woman in her late fifties, early sixties
• DAMON, a man 27 years old
• LORENZO, a man in his thirties
• MICK, a 19 year old man

(NOTE: A person of any race can play any character. Also, except for Mick (who's young) and Tera (who's old), the ages of the characters do not really matter, as long as their stories make sense. To the playwright, gender is important.)

(NOTE ABOUT PREACHER: For this to work well, the PREACHER isn't as thoughtful as urgent. There must be a sense of kindness and urgency within PREACHER that comes out by how words are spoken when the PREACHER "preaches".)

(NOTE ABOUT PACE: This play is fast-paced.

Working Props

• Sock -- I hate to say he's a prop, but he'll have to be made. Elizabeth holds.
• Black hat -- Elizabeth wears.
• Scriptures -- Preacher has.
• Large bag -- Tera brings in.
• Two paperback books -- in Tera's bag.
• Coat -- for Damon, in Tera's bag.
• Teddy bear -- in Tera's bag.
• Yarn and Knitting needles -- in Tera's bag.
• Large blanket -- for Damon, set on stage.
• Large rat -- set offstage.
• Long stick -- set on stage, can span the trash can.
• Spoon -- for Sock, set on stage.
• Rake -- set on stage.
• At least two metal objects -- set on stage for Preacher and Tera to pound.
• Short stick -- for Tera's mouth, in Tera's bag.
• Knife -- Mick brings in.
• "Blood" -- for Damon.
• Handkerchief -- in Mick's pocket.
• Loaf of bread -- Lorenzo brings in.
• Whiskey bottle, half full -- Lorenzo brings in.

(Late afternoon. SOCK and PREACHER are on stage. SOCK is the mask of ELIZABETH who sits in or near a large cardboard box. SOCK is her arm in a dirty tube sock that has eyes painted on it. SOCK, however, seems to have a life and a personality of his own. ELIZABETH is in her late forties. She wears predominantly black, including a black hat that nearly covers her face. All of who she is seems to be in SOCK. While she doesn't try to keep her lips from moving, all the focus is on SOCK, and other characters only address SOCK rather than ELIZABETH. Until the end of the play, the actor playing ELIZABETH -SOCK: does not move from place to place. It's important that the actor is comfortable, yet her arm holding SOCK has great mobility. Her elbow holding SOCK comfortably rests on something. PREACHER is a woman in her fifties and looks like a typical bag-lady. PREACHER is sitting down, reading through her scriptures. SOCK is clearly bored. He starts weaving back and forth.)

SOCK: : (Starts humming "It's a Small World")

PREACHER: (Quietly exasperated) Be quiet.

SOCK: : Why? (Continues with "Small World" but instead of humming, he begins to voice the tune, repeatedly.) Dum-da-dum-dum-dum-da-dum. (etc.)

PREACHER: Sock! Will you knock it off? (SOCK gets louder.) I hate that song!

SOCK: : A little close to home, is it? (Louder.)

PREACHER: Please, Sock? Will you please stop it?

SOCK: : Oh, well, if you're gonna get civil about it. . . . Okay. (Pause. PREACHER returns to her reading. Then suddenly SOCK explodes into the combination of commercial songs.) "Reach out and touch someone . . . with Doublemint Doublemint Doublemint gum." (No response from PREACHER. Pause.) WITH DOUBLEMINT DOUBLEMINT DOUBLEM---

PREACHER: (Slams the scriptures.) I'M GONNA KILL YA!!! (Moves for the "throat.")

SOCK: What? Break a commandment? You gonna break a commandment, Preacher? You gonna kill me for singin'? (PREACHER sits back down.) How easily we become violent. Don't you think we easily become violent Preacher?

PREACHER: Shut --- up --- Sock.

SOCK: (Contemplative.) 'Tis a sickness in the world, no doubt about that. Don't you think so Preacher?

PREACHER: Yeah, Sock. We're violent. We're sick. I reckon that's why we're here. Sick. Sock. Sick sock. Sicksock. Sicksock. Sicksock.

SOCK: Shut up.

PREACHER: Sicksock. You like that?

SOCK: No.

PREACHER: Then be quiet and let me read.

SOCK: (Slams down on the box--his way of lying down.)

PREACHER: Thankeu.

(Pause. Soon, TERA enters. TERA is a woman in her late fifties, early sixties, who is dressed like a bag-lady. Her clothes are earth-colored. She carries a bag full of various items. Her space is next to PREACHER, for they are like sisters.)

TERA: Hello Dearies. Hello. Hello.

(PREACHER and SOCK speak at the same time.)

PREACHER: Hey, Tera!

SOCK: Tera! Goody goody!

PREACHER: How's yer day?

SOCK: I'm hungry. Got anything?

PREACHER: Sorry we got separated today.

SOCK: I like Tera. Tera's a nice person.

PREACHER: I got a little worried aboutcha.

SOCK: Unlike other people I know.

(PREACHER and SOCK stop talking together.)

TERA: (Settles down.) Well well well I am too.

PREACHER: Did it happen today, dear?

TERA: Yes yes, it happened.

PREACHER: Did anyone help you?

TERA: No no. I was in Broadstreet Alley looking for Lorenzo at the time.

PREACHER: Was he there?

TERA: No. The sweet thing was gone.

PREACHER: You were alone then?

TERA: Well yes, and no. People walking down the sidewalk saw me. Gave a sideshow on the sidewalk I did. They just stared at me.

PREACHER: Vultures!

TERA: No no. Don't say that, dearie. They don't know any better. They don't know. They . . . they just don't know.

PREACHER: Oh, surely ---

TERA: No no. Some threw me some money after I was done. I think they thought I was performing for them. They just didn't know. I don't think. . . . Sometimes I feel like a freak.

PREACHER: We all feel like that.

SOCK: I don't.

PREACHER: We just gotta remember that --- that we're not freaks. We're . . . ah . . . .

TERA: Thank you, dear. Thank you thank you.

PREACHER: Sorry I wasn't there.

TERA: Oh all right, it's all right dear. I should be used to these seizures by now.

PREACHER: I shoulda been there.

TERA: Doesn't matter. Doesn't matter.

(Pause.)

SOCK: So whatcha got?

PREACHER: (Dryly.) Civility incarnate there.

TERA: Wouldcha like to see? Got something special here!

SOCK: Food?

TERA: No dearie. No food. Sorry.

SOCK: What's so special then?

TERA: We need more than food to stay alive, Sock. Now behave yourself. Hear?

SOCK: Yeah yeah.

TERA: You ready for this, Preacher?

PREACHER: Ready and waiting!

(Out of her bag, Tera pulls two books: Robert McAfee Brown, Liberation Theology: An Introductory Guide. Louisville, Kentucky: Westminster/John Knox Press, 1993 and C. Robert Mesle, Process Theology: A Basic Introduction. St. Louis, Missouri: Chalice Press, 1993. However, any worn and dirty paperback books will do.)

TERA: Here ya go, Dearie!

PREACHER: What's this? (Reads.) Intro to liberation theology and . . . process theology. Hey! I've been lookin' for these for a long time! Thanks, Tera!

(PREACHER happily scans the books. Tera sits down wearily and enjoys PREACHER's happiness.)

SOCK: Books. Big deal.

PREACHER: No! No! These are more than just books. These are different ways of seeing God!

SOCK: What for? You always got your nose in ---

PREACHER: No no no you don't understand! (Picks up scriptures.) This is the best guide there is, but it's a guide. These others will help me use this guide better!

SOCK: I'd rather have a steak.

PREACHER: Where'd you find 'em?

TERA: In the trash.

PREACHER: Oh. I shoulda known. Just like us.

SOCK: Great, big, juicy steak. Cow -- horse -- it don't matter. Just as long as it's BIG.

PREACHER: (Reads: PT p. 120) "Morally, we can picture a divine love so great that in all events in every moment God is doing everything within God's power to bring about good, eagerly calling for the cooperation of all who will respond." Isn't this terrific?

SOCK: What's terrific about it? Look around Preacher! God isn't here. He's not with us, in this, this dump.

PREACHER: Who says he's not here? Huh?

SOCK: If God was here, you idiot, then we wouldn't be. He'd care enough to help us.

PREACHER: Yeah, well I think God wants to help us. We just gotta figure out how to LET him help us.

SOCK: People die here, Preacher. People suffer here and die here.

PREACHER: This'll change your mind.

SOCK: I don't wanna change Preacher! I don't need no book to tell me what to think. The whole thing's just stupid!

PREACHER: Well I wanna change. I wanna grow some. I wanna expand my horizons.

SOCK: I don't. I have enough problems with the horizons I got! (TERA starts to laugh.)

PREACHER: What?

TERA: Nothing. Nothing. You wanna see what else I got?

SOCK: Medium rare. That's how I like it.

TERA: (Pulls a coat from her bag.) Here. This is for Damon. I figure he needs it. He's always wrapping up in that blanket of his.

PREACHER: I don't know, Tera. That blanket ---

SOCK: Maybe Damon got us food today! You think so maybe?

TERA: Maybe. Maybe not. (TERA takes an old teddy bear from her bag.)

SOCK: Hey Tera! How come ya always got that bear?

TERA: Why not?

SOCK: Huh?

TERA: Bjorn is just a friend, Sock. Like you.

SOCK: But he's not real.

TERA: Are you sure?

SOCK: Pretty sure!

TERA: (Quietly laughs.) Part of me is in Bjorn, Sock. He's real.

SOCK: Oh. (Dead silence. They are trying to listen to something.)

PREACHER: Do you hear it?

TERA: No.

SOCK: No.

TERA: Maybe next time, Dearies. Maybe next time.

(When she's not actively engaged in a scene, TERA takes out her yarn and needles and knits a scarf. She's always making something for someone else, even if she doesn't know who at the moment.)

PREACHER: Sure. We can't give up yet!

SOCK: Yeah! Maybe Damon got some food! Hey, speak a the devil! Here he comes now!

(DAMON enters, empty handed. DAMON, 27 years old, looks nearly defeated with life. Like the others, he, too, wears rags. He is angry, yet has a healthy defiance about his own anger. It's as if he wants to blame society for his life but can't quite do it; he knows deep down that he's done it all by himself.)

DAMON: Shut up, Sock.

SOCK: Ya got any food, Damon?

DAMON: Do I look like I got any food?

(Silence from the others. Deep disappointment with the beginning of fear.)

PREACHER: That's okay, Damon. The rest of us couldn't get any either.

DAMON: I shoulda. Where's my stuff? (He picks up his old blanket, rolls it in a ball, and hugs it.) Man, it's gettin' cold! . . . I can't . . . I can't do anything anymore. I thought I'd steal a couple a cans a beans or somethin' from Caseys but I couldn't.

SOCK: Gee, Damon. You set such low standards for yourself. It's unfortunate you don't live up to them.

DAMON: (Explodes.) Shut up you . . . whatever you are! You parasite! You don't do nothin' around here! Nothin'! You always expect someone else to feed you. You think . . . you think it comes from thin air!

PREACHER: Take it easy, Damon. Take it easy.

DAMON: No! I'm sick of it!

PREACHER: Elizabeth can't, Damon. She'd die here, you know that. She can't. She's crippled, here, in the heart, she's crippled.

DAMON: Yeah, well we're all crippled, Preacher! Everybody's crippled! Why does she have to depend on us?

PREACHER: Why shouldn't she, Damon?

DAMON: Huh?

PREACHER: Why shouldn't she have to depend on us? Who says we gotta live alone? Huh? Who made that rule in the world? Huh? Maybe we should learn more about givin' and takin' instead of just tryin' to make it on our own. Whatdaya say, Damon? Let's make our own myth, shall we? "God helps those --

DAMON: -- who help themselves." I know. I know.

PREACHER: No Damon. That's not it. Let's make our own myth.

DAMON: Sure. Fine. What?

PREACHER: "God helps those who help another."

DAMON: "God helps those who help another." That ain't good enough, Preacher.

PREACHER: Whatdaya mean?

DAMON: It ain't good enough! Oh, it's real slick, but look at us! We can't even help ourselves much less help other people.

SOCK: I'm hungry.

DAMON: That's my point! We're hungry, Preacher. That's the reality of it. We live in the richest country in the world and we're hungry.

PREACHER: Well, yes but ---

TERA: "God helps those who can't help themselves."

PREACHER: Yeah but ---

SOCK: Pssffft! If God was even here, I'd question his judgment. Who wants t' be here?

PREACHER: What? You think God's just where the rich and healthy are?

SOCK: No, Preacher. I don't think God's around at all!

DAMON: Nobody cares, Preacher. Nobody wants to care.

PREACHER: That's not true, Damon! It isn't a matter of not wanting to care! They look at us and they're AFRAID to care!

DAMON: Aw, come on!

PREACHER: Yeah! It's fear, Damon. People look at us and they're afraid. So they try to push us away by saying that every homeless person is mentally ill or drug addicts or lazy or something. But what they really see is themselves. The possibility. The probability. Everybody ends up here some time in their life, some way or another. They'll end up here emotionally or mentally or spiritually. We ended up here physically and that's what they see and that's why they're afraid. To face us is to face themselves an' they don't wanna do that. To face us is to face the responsibility of being interdependent. The human species is an interdependent species, but we've talked ourselves into thinking we're independent, so the prospect of being HERE, right HERE, is so threatening they can't even look at us.

DAMON: I'm still hungry, Preacher.

PREACHER: Everybody's hungry.

SOCK: Yeah.

DAMON: Where's God when I'm hungry Preacher?

PREACHER: The thing is . . . if people saw themselves as interdependent instead of independent, then when they find themselves here they'll know they're not alone.

DAMON: Winter's comin' up. Where's God when I'm cold, huh? God doesn't care. Nobody cares --- 'specially in the winter time.

PREACHER: Sometimes God works through other people to care about you. At least those people who are able to listen to him --- people who're able to hear.

(DAMON gives up, smiles, and sits down.)

DAMON: You're just full a dreams, Preacher.

PREACHER: Maybe. But don't attack Elizabeth, Damon. Yell at Sock, he deserves it. But not Elizabeth.

SOCK: Hey! I didn't do anything!

(DAMON throws his blanket at SOCK. Misses.)

TERA: Hey! What's that?

DAMON: What?

TERA: Over there! I saw something move!

(DAMON and PREACHER look at each other with expectation.)

DAMON: Do ya think?

PREACHER: Let's get it!

(The stage explodes with hilarity, hope, and excitement. They "see" a rat. DAMON and PREACHER are the most active in trying to catch the rat. TERA does her best to help, but often she just gets in the way of DAMON and PREACHER. SOCK just tries to see where the rat goes. In actuality, there is no rat onstage, but characters can be choreographed in such a way to follow the scurrying of a pretend-rat and the audience will see the movement. Actors will need to ad-lib during the chase. "Where is it?" "I lost it." "It's over there." "No, no, here it is!" "Got it?" "Get a stick and hit it over the head!" "Go! Go!" etc. Eventually, the rat "runs" offstage. DAMON exits, chasing the rat. The others remain onstage, out of breath.)

TERA: I'm done for now! Oh dear oh dear.

PREACHER: (Takes care of TERA.) Sit down, Tera. There now. You shouldn't be runnin' around like that.

(Sound offstage. DAMON enters, holding a dead rat by the tail.)

DAMON: (Triumphant.) I got it!

SOCK: Yeehaa! Rope 'em cowboy!

DAMON: (Nearly rams SOCK with the rat.) Ya hungry Sock?

SOCK: Yep.

DAMON: Medium rare?

SOCK: Well done please. Well done. Well done.

PREACHER: Ya did great Damon. Thanks. (DAMON gives the rat to PREACHER.)

DAMON: Here ya go.

PREACHER: (Holds it up by the tail.) Do ya think it's infested?

DAMON: What?

PREACHER: Do ya think it has any vermin on it?

DAMON: I don't know why not. The rest of us do.

TERA: Just fire the whole thing and burn it off before ya skin it dearie. It'll be all right.

PREACHER: Okay.

(PREACHER ties the tail around a stick, then lowers the rat head-first into a trash can, and rests the stick across the top of the trash can. Supposedly, the trash can has a fire in the bottom of it.)

SOCK: Umm. I just LOVE the smell of burning rat-hair.

DAMON: Ya gonna start in with me again, Sock?

SOCK: Nah, man! You're King a the Rats!

DAMON: I'm King a the Rats!

(SOCK grabs a spoon in his mouth and starts banging on the box. He also begins to chant:)

SOCK: King a the Rats. King a the Rats. King a the Rats. King a the Rats.

(TERA and PREACHER also begin to chant with SOCK "King a the Rats" and pound on anything metal. DAMON responds by chanting with them. He takes his blanket and drapes it over a rake in such a way that the tongs can hold the blanket up. The blanket is then both held high by the rake and covers DAMON: 's back and sides. DAMON now looks like a larger-than-life object. He dances what reminds us of a corroborree, twisting and turning. At first, the dance is fun, but DAMON tries to use his imposing figure to intimidate the others. They respond by laughing at him, which in turn makes him strive harder to intimidate. They all laugh at him.)

DAMON: Shut up! Shut up! I'm King a the Rats and you gotta respect me!

PREACHER: Get real, Damon!

(The others continue to chant. DAMON takes the blanket off of the rake and drapes it over his shoulders. He takes the rake and threatens PREACHER with it.)

PREACHER: Hey! Knock it off! You can hurt somebody with that thing!

(At that moment, TERA has a seizure. Everyone stops everything and focuses on TERA. DAMON stands there helpless and angry. PREACHER crosses to TERA and tries to help her.)

PREACHER: Tera! Come on Sweetheart. Where's your stick? Damon, get her stick. It's in her bag. (DAMON doesn't move.) Damon! Come on!

(DAMON doesn't move. PREACHER riffles through TERA's bag until she finds her stick. She then crosses back to TERA and gets the stick in her mouth.)

SOCK: Tera! Help her, Preacher! She's the best person here! Help her! Please!

PREACHER: Come on, girl. Come on. (PREACHER holds her as well as she can.) Let it go, girl. Let it go.

(Soon, TERA's seizure is finished. PREACHER is now able to get under TERA and hold her and rock her. DAMON puts the rake away.)

SOCK: Is she okay?

PREACHER: How ya doin' lady?

TERA: You here Preacher?

PREACHER: I'm here. I'm here. How do ya feel?

TERA: When will I be liberated Preacher?

PREACHER: What do you mean?

TERA: When will my spirit be free?

PREACHER: You mean die?

TERA: No dear. Ya don't understand. When will I live? I want to live, Preacher!

PREACHER: Ya don't make sense, honey. You okay?

TERA: I'm okay. Tired. Really tired. Don't . . . don't ya worry about me none. Just tired.

DAMON: (Explodes. He slams his blanket to the floor.) And I'm tired of you! (To TERA.) How come everybody cares about you! Huh? What's so special about you? Ya don't EVER come up with any food. Ya don't ---

PREACHER: (Begins to rise.) Don't do this Damon.

DAMON: Leave me alone. (To TERA.) You're worthless, you know that? Worthless! Worthless! You're the dirt I walk on Tera!

TERA: Dirt is priceless Damon.

DAMON: You listenin' to me? Nobody wants you! That's why you're here, isn't it? Because nobody wants you around. Ya don't belong anywhere!

PREACHER: (Physically tries to get him away from TERA.) Stop it, Damon!

DAMON: You can't tell me what to do! It's a free world. I can do anything I want! Here! (He grabs Bjorn and starts pounding on him.) Take that! And that! I hate you! I hate you!

PREACHER: Stop it! Stop it! NOW!

(PREACHER takes Bjorn away from DAMON and gives it back to TERA. DAMON paces like a caged animal.)

SOCK: Ya finished?

DAMON: Shut up.

SOCK: Why do ya hate her man?

DAMON: Leave me alone.

SOCK: I wanna know. Tell me.

DAMON: Tell me! Tell me! Tell me!

SOCK: Why do ya hate her?

DAMON: Because she reminds me . . . of . . . me. I look at her and I see me. (Begins to rhythmically pound on himself.) Me! Me! Me! Me!

PREACHER: Stop it Damon!

DAMON: (Frantically hits himself.) Ahhhhhhh!

PREACHER: Stop it!

(PREACHER wraps her arms around DAMON to keep him from hitting himself. It works. DAMON quiets down.)

PREACHER: Atta guy. Settle down now. (She rocks him. All is quiet.)

TERA: Give it to him, Preacher.

(PREACHER lets go of DAMON and gets the coat TERA found for him. In an act of profound compassion, she gives DAMON the coat. DAMON takes it.)

SOCK: Now don't you feel foolish.

TERA: Now Sock, you be civil.

(DAMON crosses to an area, lies down and curls up in a ball under the coat.)

SOCK: Well whatcha do that for?

PREACHER: What would you have me do?

SOCK: I woulda hit him good.

PREACHER: Oh sure. Giving violence for violence really does a lot a good!

TERA: He's just in pain, Sock. That's all. Now you let it go.

SOCK: Humph.

TERA: Where's Lorenzo? He should be here by now.

PREACHER: He's always late, Tera

TERA: I know. I know. But I worry.

(PREACHER checks on the rat, then sits down and picks up the liberation theology book. TERA returns to her knitting. She's very tired. SOCK lies down. He starts to hum "It's a Small World.")

PREACHER: Sock!

SOCK: Yeah. Yeah. You know what I dream about? . . . Rat roast. Rat stroganoff. Rat fonduuuuu. Rat on a stick. Barbecued brisket o' rat. Teriyaki rat. Swiss rat. Those last two have a definite accent. Rat in oyster sauce. Rat stew. Ratburgers. Sweet 'n sour rat. Rat enchiladas. That's a south a the border special.

PREACHER: (Reads.) "Compromiso."

SOCK: Huh?

PREACHER: It means putting your body where you mouth is. You know. Making a commitment to something even if you get killed for it.

SOCK: Sounds terrific.

PREACHER: (From L.T. p. 28.) "For the first time in their history, poor people can begin to have hope, for they are discovering that things do not have to remain the way they are. Change is possible."

SOCK: I don't like change.

PREACHER: I know you don't, Sock. But I think there's a lot of hope in change. For the better.

SOCK: Humph. Ya can't change the world, Preacher. Ya gotta be on top t' do that. And we're at the bottom a the food chain.

PREACHER: Seems like all we do is sit on our duffs and complain. Or we sit on our duffs and wish for somethin' better.

SOCK: We got no control, Preacher.

PREACHER: We got control here.

SOCK: Preacher, if we had control, we wouldn't BE here!

PREACHER: But we ARE here, Sock! We're together. At least we end up the day together. But it's gotta be better than that. We gotta GET together.

SOCK: I think we do pretty good. We share stuff, including food. An' I think that's a MAJOR sacrifice!

PREACHER: You're right. We're together in other ways too. I mean, we're together BECAUSE of some things.

SOCK: Like what?

PREACHER: Well, none of us takes drugs or drinks.

SOCK: Sometimes I wanna. Just to take the pain away.

TERA: But pain is good.

SOCK: Huh?

PREACHER: Pain is good?

TERA: Well, I should say there's healthy pain and there's not so healthy pain.

PREACHER: What kinda pain is Sock?

SOCK: Hey!

TERA: Dearie Sock's in a pain league all his own!

SOCK: Yeah yeah.

PREACHER: I reckon we mostly have the not-so healthy pain, huh?

SOCK: Whatdaya mean, Tera?

TERA: Healthy pain helps us grow.

SOCK: Oh, Preacher'd like that! Give Preacher some pain, Tera. Hee! Hee! Hee!

TERA: Now Sock.

SOCK: Do it! Do it! Make her GROW!!

PREACHER: All right. All right.

TERA: Unhealthy pain separates us from ourselves and from each other. It keeps us from growin'.

PREACHER: Yeah. I can see that.

TERA: But healthy pain is a sign of true health. And the healthier we get, the more compassion we got.

SOCK: What?

TERA: There is no compassion without pain, Sock. Pain's the very foundation of it. It happens when we care so much about each other we feel pain about what happens. So much so that we decide to do something about it. Compassion's got real power in it.

SOCK: Oh. Okay. I'm hungry. Is the rat done?

PREACHER: Don't be rude.

TERA: Drinkin' and druggin' makes the unhealthy pain worse. . . . Oh.

PREACHER: You okay?

TERA: I'm just tired.

SOCK: I still wanna drink sometimes t' make the pain go away.

TERA: Oh, Sock. We all want to sometimes.

PREACHER: But the point is, is that we don't. We're together because we found each other who don't do that stuff. But we gotta get together better than that even. We gotta become critical. Critical together. We really NEED to do somethin' that'll get us together. Somethin' that connects discipline with real and vital need.

SOCK: Why?

PREACHER: 'Cause I think maybe we can help each other get outa here.

SOCK: Some of us don't think we can.

PREACHER: Well, it can't happen right away, that's for sure. There's all sort a reasons why we're here. But if we become critical together, then maybe we can get some dignity . . . some self-esteem.

SOCK: Impossible.

PREACHER: Maybe. But nothin's gonna really happen until we take critical action. I mean real and meaningful action. Maybe we can help each other get healthy enough t' get outa here.

SOCK: Well I don' wanna. I like things the way they are. Somethin's gotta be secure in the world!

PREACHER: Don't you wanna grow, Sock? Don't you wanna progress?

SOCK: No.

PREACHER: Why?

(MICK enters, unnoticed. MICK, in his late teens, wears bluejeans and a tee-shirt. He holds a knife, but is very frightened at what he's about to do.)

SOCK: None a your business.

PREACHER: Okay. Okay.

MICK: Okay people! Get up!

(Everyone except DAMON stands and faces MICK. SOCK just turns and looks. They are afraid.)

SOCK: Hey! What's goin' on here?

MICK: (Toes DAMON.) Get up! (DAMON doesn't move.)

PREACHER: What do you want?

MICK: Gimme all your money. (They look at him dumbfounded.) NOW!

PREACHER: You think WE have money?

MICK: Come on! I know you got some.

PREACHER: You'd go to people living in a dump to get their money? (They laugh.)

MICK: Hey! Cut it out! I got a knife!

PREACHER: We don't HAVE any money, kid. Now put it away.

MICK: Then . . . then gimme everything ya got!

PREACHER: Everything?

SOCK: We got a dead rat over here.

MICK: What?

SOCK: We're gonna eat it later. Ya want some?

MICK: (Looks at the rat.) You . . . you can keep the rat.

(At that moment, DAMON explodes, grabs MICK and wrestles. No one hits the other. Soon, DAMON has the knife. While wrestling, however, MICK has stabbed DAMON in the fleshy part of his lower side. The "blood" can be put on while he is under the coat and then the fight choreographed in such a way that the audience doesn't see DAMON's front until after they wrestle. Nobody notices at first, including DAMON.)

DAMON: (While wrestling.) You're not gonna hurt these people! Not if I can help it! These are GOOD people! (Stop wrestling. Has the knife.) I'm sick a violence! All my life has been violent and I'm sick of it! It's gonna stop. I'm gonna stop it. I'm gonna stop it with me! (DAMON throws the knife away.)

PREACHER: (Crosses to MICK, grabs him and hugs him.) There! You wanted everything we got. That's everything we got. Now go home.

(MICK stands there helpless and dumbfounded. DAMON takes his blanket and drapes it over TERA.)

TERA: Thankya Dearie! Thank you. Thank you.

DAMON: I mean it, Tera. I won't be violent anymore. Not ever. I mean it.

TERA: I know you won't, Damon. I trust you.

(DAMON realizes he's been stabbed.)

DAMON: Oh God! Where's God, Preacher? Where's God?

TERA: He's bleeding, Preacher.

DAMON: (In complete and utter pain. No anger.) I never asked for much. Not much. Not really. I never asked for my own hurt to go away. You wanna know what I really wanted?

PREACHER: Sit down. (Helps him down.)

MICK: I didn't mean it. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. (He is ignored.)

DAMON: I wanted God to justify my life, Preacher. To put my life in balance. To put my own pain in balance. To let me experience something else to put my pain in balance. But he never did, so it added up.

TERA: How bad is it?

PREACHER: I don't know.

MICK: Is he gonna die? Did . . . did I kill him?

DAMON: I wanted to stop believing in God, Preacher, but I couldn't. I couldn't. I couldn't stop believing in him and I couldn't feel him either. I can't . . . feel God. How can I know God if I can't feel him? I . . . I must be corrupt or somethin'. I can't feel anything. I've never been able to touch anybody.

SOCK: Put pressure on it.

PREACHER: You. Ya got a clean handkerchief or somethin'?

MICK: Yeah. Here. (Gives it to her.)

DAMON: I'm gonna die without ever touchin' anybody. Without ever feelin' anything else.

PREACHER: You listen t' me! You're a part of us, ya hear? You been a part a my life and Tera's life and Lorenzo's life!

SOCK: Mine too.

PREACHER: Don't ever think you've never touched anybody. Because you have!

DAMON: I don't . . . I don't feel it.

PREACHER: You will, one of these days, Damon. Sometimes we don't feel somethin' because what we need comes in a way we don't expect. We end up not wanting it because it don't come under our own expectations about how our needs SHOULD be met. So we go on bein' off balance. And blaming God even when he's been trying to help us all along.

DAMON: Am I gonna die?

SOCK: Any blood squirting out?

PREACHER: Now is not the time, Sock!

TERA: No, Sock.

MICK: I'm sorry. I'm sorry.

SOCK: Where's it at?

(MICK crosses to DAMON. He wants to help.)

TERA: About an inch in from his side.

SOCK: He'll be okay.

PREACHER: How do you know?

SOCK: I read books once. You're not the only person who reads books, Preacher.

MICK: Should we take him to the hospital?

PREACHER: You're kidding, right?

MICK: No. I'd . . . I'd think . . . .

SOCK: Forget it, kid. Nobody wants t' treat us.

PREACHER: He's right. He'll be better off here. They won't do anything about someone like us. At least here he'll be watched over. . . . What's your name?

MICK: Mick.

PREACHER: Mick, why don't you go home? (An awkward pause.)

TERA: You don't have a home, do you?

MICK: No. I'm sorry.

TERA: Then you'll stay here. With us.

PREACHER: You sure, Tera?

TERA: Yes dearie, I'm sure.

PREACHER: Okay, Mick. You get to put pressure on it. . . . That's it. That's your job. Okay?

MICK: Okay.

(PREACHER: checks the rat.)

DAMON: Whatcha do this for, Mick?

MICK: I'm sorry.

DAMON: That's not an answer.

PREACHER: Oh no! The fire's gone out! Tera, ya got your matches?

TERA: I'll see. (Searches her bag.)

MICK: I'm supposed to rob someone.

DAMON: Who says?

MICK: You know. To be a part of the gang. Then once we get in, we gotta kill someone.

DAMON: Why?

MICK: To get respect.

DAMON: You think you'll get respect by killing somebody?

MICK: I just . . . I just wanna belong, that's all.

TERA: I can't find any. No. No. Sorry Preacher.

SOCK: Oh man! What're we gonna eat?

PREACHER: Someone's gonna have to go find some matches.

MICK: You mean you're really gonna eat that thing?

(LORENZO enters, holding a loaf of bread and a whiskey bottle. LORENZO, in his thirties, has the mind of a child -- the result of a system that rejects people who can't pay. The best way to describe LORENZO is that he's innocent.)

LORENZO: Hi guys!

TERA: Lorenzo! You're here!

LORENZO: Lookee what I got!

SOCK: Fooooood! Food! Food! Food! Food! Food!

LORENZO: Here ya go, Preacher!

SOCK: Now we can have rat sandwiches!

PREACHER: Thanks sweetie! (About the whiskey.) What's this?

LORENZO: I dunno. Somebody just gave it to me. Somebody just gave me the bread, too. I dunno why or nothin'.

PREACHER: You try any of it?

LORENZO: Well . . . yeah. I didn't like it too good. Made me wanna throw up.

PREACHER: You're supposed to acquire a taste for it.

LORENZO: What's that mean?

DAMON: It means you gotta drink it until you like it.

SOCK: Can we divvy out now?

LORENZO: Why would anybody wanna do that?

PREACHER: I dunno, Lorenzo. Don't make much sense, does it?

LORENZO: Who wants t' throw up all the time?

TERA: Come to me, Sweetheart.

LORENZO: Okay. Who's he?

PREACHER: Mick.

LORENZO: Oh.

(Sits next to TERA who wraps her arms around him. They hold each other, with LORENZO's head on her chest.)

TERA: Where you been dear? Where's my Lorenzo been?

LORENZO: I'm yours huh? I belong to you huh?

TERA: Yes. Yes sweetie. You belong to me.

LORENZO: You still love me Tera?

TERA: Yes dearie. Yes. I still love you.

LORENZO: That's good 'cause I worry sometimes.

TERA: Why sweetie?

LORENZO: 'Cause I think maybe you're gonna throw me away.

TERA: No no. I won't throw you away.

LORENZO: Other people did, ya know.

TERA: I know. I know. But I'm not them.

LORENZO: Why did they throw me away?

TERA: I don't know Lorenzo. Maybe they were sick. Maybe they didn't know you like I do.

LORENZO: A piece a furniture.

TERA: What?

LORENZO: Me. I'm a piece a furniture.

TERA: No you're not dearie.

PREACHER: You really helped us today, you know that Lorenzo? You brought us food.

LORENZO: Yeah. Sometimes I'm just sad though 'cause a the past. 'Cause they used me and threw me away.

PREACHER: Not now, Lorenzo. That's in the past. You gotta think of today.

LORENZO: Yeah. I gotta think of today. Now isn't like it was. I forget though.

TERA: That's okay sweetie. That's okay. It'll be put in balance someday.

PREACHER: Absolutely.

LORENZO: Yeah. I get a lot a hope stuff in balance.

PREACHER: You hungry?

LORENZO: Yeah!

SOCK: Me too! Come on!

PREACHER: Well, instead of just givin' it out, I thought we'd do somethin' different.

SOCK: I wanna eat.

TERA: What do you wanna do, Preacher?

PREACHER: I thought instead of just grabbin' for it, we'd lay it out and give it to each other.

SOCK: Why?

PREACHER: Because we oughta be human beings, Sock. We're not animals! We gotta do somethin' that helps us BE human beings!

TERA: Yes, dearie dearie. Sounds good to me.

SOCK: I don't wanna.

PREACHER: Why not?

SOCK: It won't work. . . . Well, we never did it before. We can't do it now.

PREACHER: Oh, come on!

SOCK: Tradition is a wonderful thing. It gives us roots. We can't just throw it away! We should honor it.

PREACHER: Don't confuse mindless security with roots. And I for one stop honoring a way of doin' somethin' when it keeps me from growin'.

SOCK: Pssffft! You and your growin'! You just wanna do somethin' for the sake a change.

PREACHER: Sometimes I do, yeah. But I got you to remind me to be careful a that, ya know? You help me remember about balance -- that we gotta change somethin' -- tradition, anything really -- so that we get an understanding or insight about it. I don't wanna throw the tradition away, Sock, I wanna develop it and . . . and bring it to its potential so that I CAN keep it. You know, put it in balance so maybe it'll help ME develop and put ME in balance. I wanna make my life better Sock, but I need help doin' it. I need you to help me.

DAMON: I wanna be a human being, Tera.

LORENZO: Me too.

SOCK: Okay. Then I get one.

PREACHER: We never leave you out.

SOCK: No, I don't mean Elizabeth, I mean ME!

DAMON: Hey! That's means you'll be getting TWO!!

PREACHER: (Crosses to SOCK.) Okay. Okay. Now you, Sock, Sock, you don't really NEED a piece of bread, do you? I mean, really, to live, do you?

SOCK: Well. No.

PREACHER: Then what DO you need, to live I mean?

SOCK: Umm. . . . I really really need, to live . . . a . . . a pat on the head.

PREACHER: Okay. You got it.

(PREACHER gently pats SOCK on the head. SOCK is very happy.)

SOCK: Thanks.

PREACHER: Okay. You got yours. Now we'll get ours. (Lays out the bread.) Okay, somebody come and take a piece of bread and give it to somebody else. Then we wait and we'll eat together.

(Silence. Suddenly, everyone feels awkward. DAMON struggles to stand, crosses, and gives a piece of bread to MICK. Pause. DAMON then crosses to SOCK and gently pats him on the head. Pause. LORENZO gives bread to TERA, then pats SOCK on the head. PREACHER gives bread to DAMON, then pats SOCK on the head. TERA places bread near ELIZABETH, then pats SOCK on the head. MICK gives bread to PREACHER, then pats SOCK on the head. PREACHER gives bread to LORENZO, then pats SOCK on the head. Pause. TERA begins to eat and the others follow. They finish. Pause.)

PREACHER: Do you hear it?

TERA: No. No. Not yet. Not yet.

(Pause.)

LORENZO: We human beings now?

TERA: (Chuckles.) Yes yes. We've always been human, but now we're human beings.

MICK: You shouldn't a got up. You're bleeding again.

DAMON: I've been doin' stupid things all my life it seems like. You wanna know why I'm here?

MICK: Hold still! Geez!

DAMON: I beat up a guy. Seems like all my life has been violence. Fear and violence. I was married, ya know? Michelle. I found her with another guy, and when I saw that I beat him up. Got five years for assault. And when I got out, well, no one wants to give an ex-con a second chance, so I can't get a job. So I gave up. Now I'm here. Ya know what I think? I think I'm the most worthless person in the world.

MICK: Yeah. I know what you mean. When I was sixteen my mom left. I never knew my dad, so mom was the only person I thought I had. I came home from school one day and found everything gone. She moved out while I was in school. She left a note though. She said that she had to live her own life and told me to take care of myself. I think she was seein' a guy though and left with him.

DAMON: So what happened to you?

MICK: Oh, they put me in a foster home for the rest of the year.

DAMON: Did you like them?

MICK: I wanted to. But . . . they just ignored me.

DAMON: Oh, man, being ignored is the worst. My old man decked me a lot and I think it made me strong, ya know? I think I woulda died if he'd ignored me.

MICK: Well, they weren't my real parents anyway so I guess it don't really count.

DAMON: It counts.

MICK: Well, I've been livin' on the streets for about two years now. I've been too scared t' talk to anybody. You know how it is. Until not too long ago. Yesterday these guys saw me and said I could be a part of their gang if I'd rob people for them. It was either that or get beat up or . . . or worse . . . you know.

PREACHER: How did you live?

MICK: Hitchhiking mostly. People feed me sometimes when I hitchhike. I never hurt anybody until now.

DAMON: My mom told me that I was a mistake. And all my life I believed it. But I don't believe any of it now. They taught me how to be violent and I'm sick of it. It figure it's really my choice anyway. People here have treated me better than anybody I've ever known. So I'm throwin' away what I been taught. My choice. I'll take it. But now I don't know what to do. I don't know what to believe.

MICK: I don't either. I think I'm lost.

DAMON: Yeah. Lost. Where's God when you're lost?

PREACHER: He's right here, Damon!

DAMON: Oh, come on, Preacher! I can't find him HERE!

PREACHER: Okay. Okay. . . . Look Damon.

DAMON: NO! Look at us! We can't cope. We're nothin'! We're HERE because we don't belong anywhere.

PREACHER: What's wrong with here, Damon? Who says that here is bad? People who aren't here? They can't see us for what we are. They look at us and they see a throwaway, an ex-con, an innocent, a Bible-thumper, a cynic, and a bag-lady. But we're human beings, we're people who've tasted hunger. We question God because he lets us. He even wants us to! I think he wants us to question everything! God is here. Outside and inside. Inside you. Inside me. Inside all of us. It's our job to find him in us, Damon, so we can know him outside. It's not supposed to be easy. It's supposed to be the very stuff of pain and the very essence of humanity. God isn't some kinda Santa Claus. He doesn't give us anything and everything we want whenever we want it.

DAMON: I only wanted him to justify my life.

PREACHER: He is justifying your life, and mine, and everyone else's life. But he doesn't just see us for what we are or what we think we are. He sees us for who we are and who we can be. He knows I'm having a rotten time with --- and he's trying to help me and I think he has helped me. And sometimes he does it through other people. Through other lost and lonely people, just like us, just like a lot a people in the world. Look at what happened today! Look at us, Damon. We're people who can barely trust anything, who are crippled. And as crippled as we are, we're trying to change our world . . . to change . . . our world. We're trying . . . to find peace. To find peace, Damon.

DAMON: How'd you get here, Preacher?

PREACHER: I never told anybody before.

TERA: Things have changed, Preacher. You can tell us now.

PREACHER: Nah. It wouldn't help anything.

DAMON: You're a piece a work, you know that? You talk a LOT Preacher! You talk about change, but you just play it safe.

PREACHER: What . . . what do you mean?

DAMON: As long as you're in control with everything and everybody, then you can change everything around you without changin' yourself. That's quite an arrangement you've made for yourself.

PREACHER: I don't understand.

DAMON: Oh I think you do. It's a really good way for you to keep from facing yourself. From living. From feeling. From knowing real and healthy pain. It's easier for you to read books than it is to face yourself. And you've taken the easy way out, I suspect, for a long time.

PREACHER: Oh God.

DAMON: Why are you here, Preacher?

LORENZO: I'm here 'cause Tera's nice to me and I do what she says and stuff. Well, not ALL the time . . . but Tera's nice.

TERA: You do just fine, Lorenzo.

LORENZO: An' I'm a human being.

DAMON: Yeah, man. You're a human being.

TERA: Human beings learn to trust. To trust people you know are human beings. And to trust people who are human beings means you gotta trust God. To enter the process of life. To be connected.

DAMON: Come on, Preacher.

LORENZO: Yeah, Preacher. If I can trust you can too.

PREACHER: I was married to a man . . . named Josh . . . Joshua. I was married to him for five years or so. I married late in life, you see, and we hadn't any children . . . yet. He'd just gotten tenure the year before . . . when . . . You know, everybody expects me to be perfect, you know? The strong one. And I couldn't be . . . anymore.

LORENZO: What happened Preacher?

PREACHER: Josh committed suicide. He went downstairs one night and blew himself away. I had no idea. . . no idea . . . anything was wrong. I didn't know. And I shoulda. I shoulda known something. I shoulda done something -- different.

TERA: Different from what?

PREACHER: I knew he was depressed and I asked him to see a therapist, but he wouldn't. And I didn't know it was that bad. Actually, I thought he was getting better . . . . right before. . . . I didn't know what to do . . . and I didn't--

DAMON: It's not your fault Preacher. You didn't do it. He did it.

PREACHER: That doesn't help, you know.

DAMON: Yeah. I know.

PREACHER: I lost everything. I lost myself, my job, my home, my friends. Everything. My friends tried to help me . . . but they couldn't. I just left. Nobody knows where I am. I just left.

TERA: There's no compassion without pain, my dear. You won't gain it without losing it first. Let it go.

PREACHER: (Starts to cry.) Why did he do it? Why did he do it? . . . I miss him so much. I try to be strong, but I can't. I can't.

(TERA crosses to PREACHER, puts the blanket around her and holds her.)

TERA: We're here dearie. We're here.

PREACHER: I . . . try to be strong. But I miss him so much.

TERA: I know you do. I know you do.

PREACHER: Do you . . . do you think he's with God?

TERA: Yes dearie. He's with God. And God is with us. Everything's here that we need, my child. God is here. God is here.

PREACHER: Ha! I don't know whether I'm sad or happy!

TERA: (Chuckles.) We can't have one without the other!

DAMON: Let's celebrate! (In pain.) Oh MAN!

MICK: He's really bleeding.

(PREACHER crosses to DAMON.)

DAMON: I'm dyin', Preacher! I'm dyin'! I can feel it! I . . . I don't wanna die, Preacher!

PREACHER: I don't know what to do! Oh God! I don't know what to do! God help us please! I don't know what to do!

(ELIZABETH rises and takes off her hat. She takes SOCK off of her arm. At first she hesitates because she doesn't want to put him down. Then she folds up SOCK and places him inside her shirt. She then crosses to DAMON. Everyone except TERA is dumbfounded.)

ELIZABETH: (Examines DAMON's wound.) Humm. Mighta nicked the intestine. But I doubt it.

LORENZO: (In distress.) Sock's gone! Where's Sock? Where's Sock?

ELIZABETH: (Rises. Kindly.) I'm Sock, Lorenzo.

LORENZO: But where's Sock?

ELIZABETH: Right here. (Places LORENZO's hand on her heart, where SOCK is.) He's right here. He hasn't gone away. He's right here.

LORENZO: You sound like Sock.

ELIZABETH: I am Sock.

LORENZO: It's gonna take me a while t' get used to this Sock.

ELIZABETH: Yeah. Me too. Where's your whiskey bottle?

TERA: Right here. (Gives it to her.)

ELIZABETH: (Back to DAMON.) This is gonna hurt.

(Pours whiskey on the wound. Mime taking the cap off, and tip the bottle and it'll look like whiskey is being poured when it actually is not.)

DAMON: Pain? What is pain to me? I laugh at paaaaa AHHHHHH!

PREACHER: You had fun with that, didn't you Sock?

ELIZABETH: Got that right! Actually whiskey on the wound isn't all it's cracked up to be but it's better than nothing at all. Look, you need stitches for sure, Damon. You'll need to be cleaned up, too, and given some antibiotics. We need to make sure it didn't hit the intestine. We'll take you to the hospital and I'll make sure they'll do it right.

DAMON: But . . . how do you know?

ELIZABETH: I used to be a doctor. But when AIDS came, I got scared. Fear is a horrible thing, you know. Fear's a real crippler. I couldn't touch anybody. I couldn't do my job so I lost it. I couldn't touch anybody.

DAMON: But . . . I'm bleeding and you . . . .

ELIZABETH: Yeah . . . well . . . you're worth it.

TERA: Hush now! Hush now! Can you hear it? (They all listen.)

PREACHER: Yeah, I hear it.

DAMON: I do too.

TERA: Yes, it's here.

ELIZABETH: Oh my God. My God. I hear it too! My God. I . . . I'm home. I'm home.

BLACKOUT

END OF PLAY

Copyright 1994 Debra Bruch