Some Easier Enterprise: A Short Play

Adapted from the short film “By the Water”

What if we find
Some easier enterprise? There is a place…
Of some new Race call’d Man…
Thither let us bend our thoughts…
and drive as we were driven,
The puny habitants, or if not drive,
Seduce them to our Party, that their God
May prove their foe. – Paradise Lost

(Darkness slowly gives way to sunrise, the morning stirs, the call of birds. OWEN ROBERTSON walks from Upstage to Downstage towards what is the Pond’s edge. He stands still where earth and water meet and says nothing. Darkness seems to counter the sunrise. A fog settles over the property. OWEN moves from the pond’s edge to tread on the small dock that juts out into the water.

SWEEP OF WIND. Something out on the water brightens in a PALE LIGHT before OWEN. All sounds fade away. The PALE LIGHT intensifies then diminishes.

The morning sounds and calls of birds return to the air. Sunlight finds its way through the fog. Or does the fog leave? OWEN comes back to himself. He turns from the pond and walks off the dock, back onto solid ground.

OWEN moves Upstage.

LIGHTS come up to reveal a Living Room-Kitchen. The Kitchen Table has books stacked up next to a writing pad and pen. OWEN enters the Kitchen, sets out Medicine Bottles, Cereal stuff, and puts on a Pot of Coffee. He also drops Bread into a Toaster. With all items in place, OWEN moves further Upstage and opens a Bedroom Door. He ENTERS the room but remains close to the open door. BEAT. OWEN helps someone rise up and sit on the edge of the bed; afterwhich, OWEN retrieves a House Robe from behind the open door and assists the man with putting on the House Robe.

The man reaches out a hand. OWEN takes it and helps the man to his feet, then through the Bedroom threshold. Together, OWEN and his FATHER ENTER the Living Room-Kitchen, where OWEN assists his FATHER to a seat at the table and serves the man his breakfast.

FATHER nods his thanks to OWEN and eats. OWEN EXITS Upstage and disappears around a corner. BEAT.

OWEN ENTERS from Upstage. He wears a Janitor Uniform. He pours himself a cup of coffee, fetches his toast from the Toaster, and joins his FATHER at the table. BEAT.)

FATHER:  How’d you sleep?

OWEN: Alright. You?

FATHER: Okay.

OWEN: Saw you up around three in the morning.

FATHER: What was it this time?

OWEN: Milk and cornbread. 

FATHER: Milk and cornbread.

OWEN: How?

FATHER: You break up the cornbread. Put it in a glass. Pour the milk. Wa-la.

OWEN: I mean, in your sleep.

FATHER: Muscle memory.

OWEN: You do that when Mom was here?

FATHER: In my waking hours.

OWEN: What’s she think of that?

FATHER: Your mom had good taste.

(The men continue eating. OWEN, however, stops, seems to contemplate something, then looks at his FATHER.)

OWEN: Why’d she do it?

FATHER: Do what?

(OWEN indicates towards the pond. FATHER sits back from his food, the question like a thorn in his flesh.)

FATHER: I don’t know.

OWEN: You think maybe she didn’t.

(FATHER struggles to his feet. Gathers his dishes. OWEN stands.)

OWEN: I’ll get that.

FATHER: I’ll let ‘ya.

(OWEN clears the table, cleans dishes. FATHER goes Down Stage Right and stands before a Window and watches. BEAT. He turns back towards the Living Room-Kitchen.)

FATHER: Where’s the remote?

(OWEN leaves off the dishes. He retrieves the remote from beneath one of the books stacked on the Kitchen Table and walks it to his FATHER. OWEN returns to the dishes.)

FATHER: Thank you. How are classes?

OWEN: Fine.

FATHER: ‘nother late night.

OWEN: ‘nother all night.

FATHER: That don’t help much.

OWEN: True. Sometimes, though, it helps the GPA.

(FATHER aims the remote at what would be the TV. He pantomimes watching a morning news program. OWEN leaves off the dishes again, comes around to watch the program, too.)

FATHER: Aliens. Why doesn’t the government talk about something that matters — the economy, foreign policy, education. The national debt.

OWEN: You don’t think there’s anything to this?

FATHER: It’s a convenient distraction.

OWEN: Seems like a foreign policy issue. “Common defense,” at least.

FATHER: The imminent threat right now is China, Russia. Iran. Maybe vegans. Or Taylor Swift. Not aliens.

(A KNOCK at the Door. FATHER mutes the TV as OWEN approaches the Door.)

FATHER: That’ll be Gina.

(OWEN opens the Door. ELAINE, wearing nurse scrubs and toting a Bag, smiles at her greeter.)

OWEN: Hello.

ELAINE: Good morning. I’m with Regency Health, for Mr. Robertson. 

FATHER: You’re not Gina.

ELAINE: No sir. Her contract ended. She headed off for another state.

FATHER: The traveling nurse.

ELAINE: Yes sir.

OWEN: Come in.

FATHER: Yes. Come on in.

ELAINE: Thank you. I’m Elaine.

FATHER: Nice to meet you, Elaine. This is my son, Owen. He’s headed out for work. And these books on the table are his for graduate school–

OWEN: Elaine, how long you been a nurse?

ELAINE: A few years. What are you studying?

FATHER: History. Gonna be a teacher.

OWEN: Dad, I’m gone. Call if you need. I’ll text when I’m headed home. (to ELAINE) It was nice to meet you.

ELAINE: Nice to meet you.

FATHER: Have a good day.

(OWEN opens the door to leave. ELAINE notices what’s on the TV.)

ELAINE: Hearing more about this all the time.

(OWEN stops at the threshold. He turns back to ELAINE.)

FATHER: Too much.

ELAINE: Seems one-sided doesn’t it?

FATHER: What’s your boyfriend think?

(OWEN drops his head in disbelief at FATHER’S attempt to pry. A Cell Phone RINGS.)

OWEN: It’s mine.

(OWEN moves to the Kitchen where his Cell Phone, still charging, RINGS again, and he answers the Phone while trying to catch ELAINE’S response to FATHER’S question and moving to the back of the house to take the call.)

ELAINE: I don’t have a boyfriend, Mr. Robertson.

FATHER: Someone else?

ELAINE: No, sir.

(ELAINE removes a stethoscope from her bag.)

ELAINE: Okay if take a listen?

(FATHER nods and takes a seat. ELAINE checks his breathing. OWEN returns from the back as ELAINE finishes with the stethoscope.)

FATHER: Everything okay?

OWEN: Yeah. Judy callin’ to say she’ll stop by the place with supplies.

FATHER: Elaine doesn’t have a boyfriend.

OWEN: Me either. I’ll see you all later.

ELAINE: See you later.

(OWEN EXITS, closes the door behind him.)

FATHER: Excuse me for a minute.

(FATHER rises from his chair, makes his way Upstage to the back of the house.)

ELAINE: Do you need any help?

FATHER: No thank you. I’ll be back directly.

(FATHER disappears Upstage around a corner. OWEN ENTERS in a controlled hurry. ELAINE waves to him, OWEN waves back as he retrieves a Set of Keys from the Kitchen.)

OWEN: Forgot my work keys. Hey, sorry about Dad.

ELAINE: He’s alright.

OWEN: Okay.

(BEAT.)

OWEN: Do you have plans this weekend?

ELAINE: Playing in a women’s basketball tournament on Saturday.

OWEN: Dinner Friday night gonna interfere with your pregame routine?

ELAINE: Dinner Friday sounds good.

OWEN: The Railyard. Pick you up at seven.

ELAINE: I’ll meet you there.

OWEN: Fair enough.

(FATHER coughs Off-stage.)

OWEN: See you then.

ELAINE: See ya.

(OWEN EXITS, closes the door behind him. FATHER comes around the corner Upstage.)

FATHER: Did I hear Owen?

ELAINE: Forgot his work keys.

FATHER: Oh…

ELAINE: Ready to get back to the check-up?

FATHER: Yes.

(LIGHTS OUT.

LIGHTS UP. ELAINE stands in a line of restaurantors. OWEN EXITS through the restaurants Front Doors and joins ELAINE in line.)

OWEN: Ten minutes, tops.

ELAINE: We can do that.

OWEN: Yeah…So, hey, you said something the other day when Dad had on the news, and it was talkin’ about aliens.

ELAINE: Oh, yeah. Sorry about that.

OWEN: No. I’d like to hear more of what you think about it.

(A maitre de steps outside the restaurant, holding open the Door. Some patrons ENTER. The maitre de followers behind, letting the Door close with her. And the line of restaurants moves forward, ELAINE and OWEN with them.)

ELAINE: It might guarantee that this is our only and last date.

OWEN: Very funny. But what I have to tell you might do that anyway. So…

ELAINE: You’re serious.

OWEN: Yes.

(BEAT. The maitre de returns, letting in a few more patrons. The line moves forward, ELAINE and OWEN draw closer to the Door.)

ELAINE: Aliens are angels, mostly fallen angels.

OWEN: Like from the Bible.

ELAINE: Yes. But not only there. Every culture has stories of angels.

OWEN: Same with aliens.

ELAINE: That’s a modern trend.

OWEN: What about the show Ancient Aliens?

ELAINE: They’re reading that into history.

OWEN: Okay. But why? Why call them aliens and not angels, fallen angels?

ELAINE: Makes it easier to keep God out of the discussion. Or the devil.

(The maitre de returns again. ELAINE and OWEN are allowed ENTRANCE to the restaurant. The Door rises or slides away. LIGHTS illumine Upstage where a table with two chairs awaits the couple. The LIGHTS only shine on ELAINE and OWEN.)

OWEN: No ultimate power to answer to, good or bad.

ELAINE: Maybe. Or, we like to control the story. But some people who believe in the supernatural don’t like talking about fallen angels, even though so many stories have them. On the other hand, there’s plenty of spiritual people and scientific types who are all in on communication with these entities. Because these things give knowledge and power.

OWEN: You talk about this with other nurses, doctors, chat groups?

ELAINE: I have a friend who’s a traveling nurse. We talk about it sometimes.

OWEN: Does it ever come up with patients, especially ones who are terminal?

ELAINE: Sometimes a headache is a headache. Same for cancer. And dying. But, no, I don’t talk about it with them unless they bring it up. Even then, tread lightly. Unlike what I’m doing now.

OWEN: This is fascinating.

ELAINE: Really.

OWEN: You mind sharing some of how you came across this?

ELAINE: I can give you some names and things.

OWEN: I’d appreciate that. Very much.

(OWEN and ELAINE rise up from their seats at the table. Both the seats and the table are taken Off-stage. From Upstage to Downstage Center, Strings of LIGHTS crescendo into a GLOW as if strung across a city street and sidewalks. OWEN and ELAINE walk down the street under the Strings of LIGHTS.)

ELAINE: What about you? I’ve talked enough.

OWEN: Ghosts.

ELAINE: Okay. What?

OWEN: What do you think about ghosts?

ELAINE: I thought you were gonna talk. You just asked me another question.

OWEN: I’m a better listener.

ELAINE: You first.

OWEN: Alright. My mom’s ghost showed up a few days ago, just before dawn. I had stayed up the whole night working on a paper for school and needed to move some. So I walked down to the pond on our property. Went out on the dock. Then she appeared. I couldn’t tell if she was walking on the water or floating over it. But I also felt suspended, like something was holding me in place. I didn’t like it.

ELAINE: It say anything?

OWEN: You said, “it.”

ELAINE: Yes.

OWEN: “Help me.” It said, “Help me.”

(OWEN and ELAINE come to a stop Downstage Center. They lean against or hold onto a rail as they talk. The sound of a TRAIN approaching.)

ELAINE: What does that mean?

OWEN: I don’t know. But I guess….Well, Mom died by suicide. I was a little kid, a toddler. Drowned herself in the pond. The investigator ruled it a suicide. Everyone who knows about it says it was a suicide. I believed it. Then her ghost shows up and says, “Help me,” and I’m thinking there’s more to her death that I’ve been told.

ELAINE: You talk to your Dad?

OWEN: I gave it a try. A weak one. The morning just before you showed up.

ELAINE: Give it a real try.

OWEN: And if he thinks I think he did it…?

ELAINE: Do you?

OWEN: No.

ELAINE: Let him know that.

OWEN: Fair enough. Okay, so, you called the ghost “it.” You want to say anything more on that?

ELAINE: “Oftentimes, to win us to our harm, The instruments of darkness tell us truths…to betray us in deepest consequence.”

OWEN: Shakespeare?

ELAINE: Macbeth.

OWEN: “Instruments of darkness.”

ELAINE: Intend to do us harm.

OWEN: What about Hamlet? His father’s ghost?

ELAINE: How’d that work out for the prince?

OWEN: Good point.

ELAINE: Talk to your Dad. Talk to the detective who handled your mom’s case. Don’t have anything to do with the ghost.

OWEN: You think I should stay away from the pond?

ELAINE: For a while, probably.

OWEN: What if after that, it shows up again?

ELAINE: Good point. I tell you what. Here’s what some credible people have said…

(The TRAIN passes by, its horn, its wheels on the track drowns out ELAINE and OWEN’s conversation and brings about LIGHT OUT. The TRAIN HORN sounds again and fades into a PHONE RINGING.

LIGHTS UP. A Single Desk, Down Stage Left, behind which sits OFFICER FORSTER. He answers the Phone.)

OFFICER FORSTER: Hey. Yeah. Send him on back.

(OFFICER FORSTER hangs up the phone and waits. OWEN appears Stage Right.)

OWEN: Officer Forster. I’m Owen Robertson.

OFFICER FORSTER: Yes, sir. Come in. Take a seat.  

(OWEN ENTERS and sits.)

OFFICER FORSTER: The detective who worked the case retired a few years back and moved away. I took over his caseload. Pulled the file you asked.

OWEN: Thank you.

OFFICER FORSTER: What’s got you interested in this?

OWEN: I was little when it happened. Took what I was told to be true as true. Now, I just want to see for myself.

OFFICER FORSTER: Nothing’s come up? Anything been said that spurred your curiosity?

OWEN: …No, sir.

OFFICER FORSTER: Should anything stand out, you have any other questions, concerns…

(OFFICER FORSTER hands over his business card to OWEN.)

OFFICER FORSTER: Give me a call.

(OWEN receives the card, holds onto it.)

OWEN: Sure thing.

OFFICE FORSTER: The report and autopsy report confirm self destruction. No evidence, no anything pointing to foul play. She had no life insurance policy. But a history depression.

OWEN: Depression.

OFFICER FORSTER: Yes…Is this the first you’ve heard about that?

OWEN: It is.

OFFICER FORSTER: Have you ever seen a counselor about your mom’s death?

OWEN: No.

OFFICER FORSTER: May I see that card?

(OWEN hands FORSTER’S business card back to him. FORSTER writes something on the back of the card and returns it to OWEN, who reads FORSTER’S writing.)

OFFICER FORSTER: That’s a counselor I trust. She does good work. Give her a call, use my name.

OWEN: Alright. Thank you.

(OWEN stands, pockets the business card. FORSTER rises, reaches out his hand. OWEN mirrors, and they shake hands.)

OFFICER FORSTER: Good luck to you.

OWEN: ‘preciate it.

(OWEN EXITS. OFFICER FORSTER remains standing. LIGHTS OUT.

LIGHTS UP. OWEN ENTERS his home. He holds a carry-out order in one hand as he approaches the Kitchen Table. FATHER EXITS his room and comes to help set out things for dinner.)

FATHER: Thanks for grabbin’ dinner.

OWEN: Glad to. I got this.

FATHER: You sure?

OWEN: Yes.

FATHER: Alright.

(FATHER takes a seat at the table, letting OWEN take care of setting out dinner. OWEN’S cell phone RINGS. He retrieves it from his pocket. OFFICER FORSTER’S card slips out onto the floor, but OWEN fails to notice and, instead, heads to the back of the house to take the phone call. FATHER picks the card up off the floor. He puts his glasses on and reads the card, front and back. OWEN returns from the back, sliding his phone into his pocket. He halts, feeling that the card isn’t there. He glances at where he stood when he took out his phone. FATHER holds the card out to OWEN.)

FATHER: You in trouble?

OWEN: No, sir.

(OWEN takes the card from FATHER and pockets it.)

FATHER: Anything I can help you with?

OWEN: Everything’s fine.

FATHER: So what are you doing with a police officer’s card?

(BEAT)

OWEN: I wanted to hear for myself about Mom.

(BEAT. FATHER moves to the table and sits. LIGHTS slowly dim as he speaks.)

FATHER: She could smile. I was a senior in college. Part of Student Government, and helping freshmen with their first days. I’d seen your mom and liked what I saw, but her being a freshman and me ready to graduate, I thought, no way. The school took all the new students downtown to show them the sights and have a scavenger hunt, you know. Ice breaker stuff. Your mom and a friend, another young lady, from the same town were in the group I was helping with. Your mom didn’t seem nervous or showy. Just knew who she was and seemed to have life figured out. I’d been in a serious relationship my first two years of school, but it got out of hand, and when I wanted out, the girl said she’d kill herself. Made it very difficult to really end it. Around that time another couple had gone through a breakup, and that guy left a voicemail on his ex-girlfriend’s phone of him swallowing a shotgun barrel and pulling the trigger. They found his body in the woods near campus. So, the next two years I stayed away from relationships. Was hesitant to even try something my last year of school, but then downtown with that group of freshmen, we came across these footsteps carved on the sidewalk for a Waltz. I couldn’t dance, but I stepped up, hoping your mom would join me. I should have asked her directly. Instead, her friend took my hands. And as we were going through the steps, the friend’s eyes changed. She went from fun to serious, almost seductive. Didn’t feel right. Anyway, I glanced over at your mom, and she was already turned away, walking on ahead with others from the group. Your mom had me from then on. I worked up the courage to finally ask her out. She told me later that she walked away because she could see how her friend changed the moment the dance started, and she wasn’t going to compete with her friend, who was accustomed to making things easier for the boys. I’d never met a woman like her. We got along great. She had such a smile – teeth straight, big, and white. But I don’t know what brought on her depression. We did what we could do. Prayer. Doctors. Counselors. Meds. Diets. Exercise. Journaling. Church. There was no stigma on her, not anymore than what someone puts on themself for being in a fight they seem to always be losing. I came home one day from work. You were asleep in your crib. Last nap of the day, you know. Found her lying face down in the pond. I got her out of there. Yelled until a neighbor came out and saw us then ran to call the police. Just laid with her until help arrived. But she could smile. I did not kill her. But I know God didn’t save her, either.

(LIGHTS dim to their final point and go OUT.

LIGHTS slowly come UP, like Sunrise. OWEN sleeps at the Table, having drifted off while reading, studying, or writing another paper. He awakens. Stretches as he stands. He notices that FATHER’S Bedroom door is open and looks in on FATHER. OWEN steps out of the Bedroom, goes behind the corner to check the Off-Stage Bathroom. Nothing. OWEN reappears, moving from Upstage to Downstage all while studying for signs of FATHER. A PALE LIGHT OUTSIDE catches OWEN’S eyes. OWEN heads outside, further Downstage, and the LIGHTS brighten, illuminating where the Pond is. OWEN rushes into the Pond. Out he drags FATHER. Both men drenched from the water. OWEN resuscitates FATHER. BEAT.)

OWEN: What happened?

FATHER: Thought I saw your mom on the water. I came down to her. She was smiling and saying she missed me…then, you were asking me what happened.

(FATHER lays still, catching his breath. OWEN looks out to the water. The PALE LIGHT reappears. OWEN turns his back on it. The PALE LIGHT suddenly goes out with a RUSH OF WIND and a TREMOR OF THE EARTH, followed by the MORNING LIGHT’S warm return.)

OWEN: Let’s get you inside.

(OWEN stands, helps FATHER to his feet. Together, they move Upstage. LIGHTS FADE OUT.

Down Stage Right, another LIGHT brightens and is also warm. It is the LIGHT of a CHURCH SERVICE SIGN. The SIGN reads: Morning Worship, 11:00 AM. ELAINE stands beside the sign, and she watches out for someone. She smiles. And OWEN appears. They hug each other.)

ELAINE: How’s your dad?

OWEN: Better. (Indicating the church sign) Not ready for this yet.

ELAINE: Okay. What if we take him lunch?

OWEN: Yeah. That’d be good.

(ELAINE nods, holds out her hand. OWEN takes it, and they walk together Upstage in the direction that would be the church. The SIGN LIGHTS dim and… LIGHTS OUT.)

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