A one-act play.
“A person on their deathbed spends their final living moments arguing with their inner-child.”
THE SCENE
A private room in Westernized hospice care. Present Day.
THE CAST
A corpse, at-least 70-years-old, in the last minutes of their life.
The Child in Their Mind’s Eye, 15-or-under, the Corpse’s adolescent-aged mirror-image.
Some loved ones, 2-3 in quantity, middle-aged, grieving bedside.
WRITER’S NOTE: The role of “Corpse” (and by extension the “Child”) has been transcribed below in the masculine pronoun, but can be cast as non-binary with reflected changes in the dialogue.
*
LIGHTS UP. A CORPSE – or at least, someone minutes away from “being” one – lays in a near-comatose state on a hospital bed in the center of the stage. On stage-right, sitting in chairs facing them are LOVED ONES, with their backs to the audience. They are inconsolable and spend the duration of the play grieving – silently, unless noted. We can hear their cries as the play starts. After some time, a CHILD enters stage-right, and the grieving quietens. The child walks casually up to the bed and starts lightly-shaking the corpse awake.
CHILD
Hey! Hey, wake up!
CORPSE
Hmm?
CHILD
Wake up! It’s time for school!
CORPSE
What is it? What’s going on? (puts their hand up to their mouth)
…Oh my God, I can speak! (puts their other hand up to their face)
I can move! Holy shit, it’s a miracle!
CHILD
(facetiously)
Yay!
CORPSE
(to their Loved Ones)
Look, everyone! Look!
CHILD
Oh, they’re looking!
CORPSE
Oh, how I want to get up and dance!
CHILD
…Go on.
CORPSE
What?
CHILD
Try it! Go on!
CORPSE
I don’t know if I should…
CHILD
Pfft, who’s gonna know?
CORPSE
Well they will.
CHILD
Buddy, they’re rooting for you! Don’t you hear them? They’re cheering!
CORPSE
…You know what, I’m gonna do it!
CHILD
Go for it!
CORPSE
I will! I told those nurses I still had some fight left in me! I’ll show them! I’m gonna do it! I’m gonna go and take a shit! (throws the sheets off)
CHILD
Yes!
CORPSE
All by myself!
CHILD
(wanders behind the bed and wheels out a stand-up walker with a seat attached) Are you sure you won’t need this?
CORPSE
Absolutely not!
CHILD
You told them not to buy it for you, and they did anyway!
CORPSE
I’ll show them!
CHILD
That’s the spirit!
CORPSE
(swings their legs over the side of the bed) I’m gonna do it!
CHILD
And… go!
The corpse counts to themselves, up to three. On three, they puts their feet on the ground, but almost-immediately loses their balance and has to grab onto the walker to keep themselves from falling over. The child laughs at them – a bullish, “told you so” sort of laugh – and their Loved Ones seem to laugh along with the child, although in sadness. The child continues to laugh at them as the corpse tries to jump back into bed with what little energy they have.
CHILD
(cont’d) …Hah-hah! Gotcha!
CORPSE
What is this? Just who are you anyway?
CHILD
I’m Death.
CORPSE
Oh?
CHILD
Nice to meet you!
CORPSE
You look awfully familiar…
CHILD
I’m the Child in Your Mind’s Eye.
CORPSE
Oh.
CHILD
Yes, it’s kinda lame. (sits on the edge of the bed)
A bit anti-climactic too, don’t you think?
CORPSE
What is? You being the Child in My Mind’s Eye?
CHILD
Yeah. It sounds like the sort of thing people write when they have no original ideas left, doesn’t it? But what can I say, we don’t have the budget.
CORPSE
…Can I help you?
CHILD
Nope. Just hanging out.
CORPSE
Well could you do it over there? You sitting on my legs is very uncomfortable.
CHILD
Shut up! I know you can’t feel your legs.
CORPSE
That’s not the point. I’m still alive. Have some respect for your elders.
CHILD
Sorry. I’ll go over there. (wanders over to the Loved Ones)
Time ticks on for what feels like an eternity. The Loved Ones still weep. The child pulls out a cigarette, lights it, and takes a long, tasty drag.
CHILD
(cont’d, looking at Loved Ones) Is this your son?
CORPSE
I think so. He’s too far away.
CHILD
He must really be on some forgiveness shtick for him to show up.
CORPSE
He loves me. And I love him, too.
CHILD
Even though he’s got a bigger dick than you.
CORPSE
What?
CHILD
I’m joking! I’m joking. You knew that already.
(beat) Is this Theresa?
CORPSE
Yes, that’s my wife.
CHILD
I would have thought she’d be prettier, the way you drone on about her. Your son isn’t hers’?
CORPSE
No. I had him with my first wife.
CHILD
Oh. Cause I was gonna say… (motions that she’s got big breasts)
CORPSE
Stop that! Get away from them!
CHILD
The milkbags or the audience? Okay, fine. Sorry. (wanders back over to the bed)
CORPSE
Leave my family alone!
The child sits in the walker and wheels it to-and-fro like, pray, a child would.
CHILD
…So?
CORPSE
What now?
CHILD
Whatever you want, basically.
CORPSE
What do you mean?
CHILD
I only show up if someone is 100%, bona-fide, guaranteed ready-to-die.
CORPSE
…Is there anything I can do?
CHILD
Like what? You aren’t a wizard, Harry.
CORPSE
…Can I have a smoke?
CHILD
I thought we quit. (he tosses the smoke on the ground and stomps it out)
CORPSE
You know, I’m starting to have serious doubts as to your intentions.
CHILD
I have nothing but the purest of intentions. I’m sort of like a spirit guide, I suppose you could call it. A directory of all your memories and your experiences from your entire life: even things you thought you had forgotten.
CORPSE
Uhh…
CHILD
May I recommend the Chef’s Special?
CORPSE
What’s that?
CHILD
It’s like a “Greatest Hits” package. But less like that Robin Williams movie where he edits people’s memories into a clip-show and more like that “auto-slideshow” feature for iPhoto. I’ll grab some stuff & throw some music to it and it’s up to you to make sense of it.
CORPSE
Well that doesn’t sound very good.
CHILD
It might not be. Especially not for you.
(beat) So are we doing this, or what?
CORPSE
Are you going somewhere?
CHILD
Eventually!
CORPSE
Oh? Where?
CHILD
(sarcastically) Back… into your subconscious!
CORPSE
What?
CHILD
Well, you see, there isn’t anything when you die. It’s total vapidity. Did you ever watch the “Midnight Mass” show? I think that put it quite succinctly… wait, you did. Well there you go.
CORPSE
I just need some time to process this…
CHILD
Time is something you’re all out of, Sir. “Now is the time to act!” Just like that line in your second ex-wife’s book!
CORPSE
You’re going to bring her up? Fuck you.
CHILD
That’s not a nice thing to say to a child. Besides, I think she’s doing very well for herself, don’t you? Writing a book about your marriage and financing it using the divorce settlement? What was it called again? “Hubby Dearest”?
CORPSE
Shut up!
CHILD
No no no, not “Hubby” – “Wifey”. “Wifey Dearest”. Doesn’t matter: no one from this generation gets the reference anyway.
CORPSE
Fuck you!
CHILD
You know, when you tell me to “fuck me”, you’re actually kind of telling yourself to “fuck you”… and I cannot fuck you. I am illegal.
CORPSE
Why would my subconscious choose to do this to me? This is torture!
CHILD
(lights another smoke for themselves) I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m having a great time.
CORPSE
Of course you would be! You’re a nihilist!
CHILD
You mean “I’m a nihilist”!
CORPSE
I admit, I wasn’t the most active person on the planet…
CHILD
Come on!
CORPSE
What? I wasn’t.
CHILD
“Active” is an understatement.
CORPSE
Well okay, yes, I spent lots of time in front of the TV…
CHILD
You can be honest with me. Go on.
CORPSE
What? I am being honest.
CHILD
Come on. It’s you you’re talking to, here. Let’s be real.
CORPSE
I am being real.
…Oh, okay, so I spent lots of time in front of the computer too. That was my dad’s fault for getting me into that, you know.
CHILD
You were a lazy fucking asshole.
CORPSE
I was not!
CHILD
You were! I was there! You did nothing, you went nowhere – when you had free time you wasted it, and then you complained to your Loved Ones that you wasted it! You have slothery written all over you. Wait! I have a great idea! Hold on a second…
The child flicks the smoke and pulls out a red felt-tip marker. They write “SLUT” in big letters on the corpse’s forehead.
CHILD
(cont’d) There you go, just like the children in those videos you liked to watch, huh? Sicko.
CORPSE
You’re not looking at the bigger picture. Once I met Theresa, I changed! I did everything I could to be a better person.
CHILD
Yeah, but that still leaves you with the last forty years. Did you think you were goof-proof that whole time, too?
CORPSE
Well I don’t think I was a saint, but…
CHILD
But nothing! You remember the fights! The times you made her cry because you were the miserable one? Or are you going to try to tell me that I’m not remembering it correctly? Hm?
(the corpse is speechless, and the child mocks them) Uh, uh, uh… Go on. What is it you’re going to say? Do you have another excuse about how your father treated you? Is that it? Cause I’ve heard them all before.
CORPSE
I am totally deflated right now.
CHILD
Good! You should be! For various reasons!
Ah-hah! That’s it!
CORPSE
What’s it?
CHILD
I was trying to think of what this all reminds me of, and it’s an old Rowan Atkinson stand-up bit where he’s the Devil. I told you we didn’t have the budget for anything original.
CORPSE
Is that why I was such a dick to everyone? Because I have some kind of deep-rooted self-hatred for myself?
CHILD
Very astute observation. A little late, but…
CORPSE
I don’t know what…
CHILD
You don’t know what?
CORPSE
… I don’t know.
CHILD
That’s life, buddy. Not knowing. More people die every day than you could possibly imagine, and the population keeps on getting bigger. People keep having children, and one day those children will grow up and have kids of their own before they die, too. It’s cyclical. Maybe you thought you were doing the right things when you were being a jerk, and maybe on-reflection you knew they were bad and you did them anyway. But guess what? This isn’t a Hollywood movie and you aren’t Ralph Fiennes. And I’m certainly no Juliette Binoche! The court has spoken, and your judgement won’t be any different than anyone else’s. It just won’t be televised.
The child lights another smoke. Some time goes by. The Loved Ones cry. It makes the corpse begin to tear up.
CHILD
(cont’d) Aww! Don’t cry for me Argentina… I bet you didn’t think your subconscious was this deep!
(beat) You know, this really isn’t going anywhere fast, why don’t I put on the Clip Show and you can just lay back & silently stew in your own self-pity.
CORPSE
No!
CHILD
No?
CORPSE
No. Wait…
A huge party erupts around the corpse’s bed: balloons & confetti fall from the sky; streamers fly; and upbeat elevator music plays. All the while, the Loved Ones do not participate: this is happening “beyond” them.
CHILD
(cont’d) Whoops! That sound means you’re all out of time!
(the child flicks the cigarette, and a corded microphone is tossed into their hand from off stage-right. They begin addressing the audience directly)
That’s right, the serotonin levels in your brain have reached critically-low levels while the remainder of your body’s functions rapidly deteriorate, which means it’s the moment you’ve been waiting for! Yes, you’re going to die! Thank you so much for playing the Game of Life! Do you have anything you’d like to say to the audience at home?
(holds the microphone up to the corpse’s face, but they’re paralyzed again, and can’t speak)
Oh well, that’s fine! Leave them in suspense! And for all of you out there at home, remember, at some point or another, this will happen to you! I’m the Child in Your Mind’s Eye saying, Good Night!
They drop the mic and walk off stage-right. The mic-drop triggers silence, other than the feedback it generates. The stage lights dim. A spotlight ensnares the corpse: they struggle to take their last breath. The Loved Ones rise and approach the bed in reverence, their backs still to the audience, gathering tightly so as to block the death-face of the corpse. The spotlight fades to black. LIGHTS DOWN.
//jf 11.12.2022
Photos in order: Andrea Piacquadio; cottonbro on Pexels.com. For reference, the “upbeat elevator music” I’m thinking of is the “VS Victory” theme from “Dr. Mario” for Wii. Since Nintendo is so stingy with their licensing, I cannot find a suitable link. Those few of you I hope will know what I’m talking about.
theory of a daskeman 