Creative works in progress continued...

The Dugout

Characters
Man: middle aged, dressed in rags, unshaven, and filthy, sitting in a red mobility chair sitting in a empty dugout in a local park

Father: Man’s illusion of his actual father. Real father is not actually present in scene. The character of Father is a figure of Man’s imagination. Man uses his perception of his father to create the character he is conversing with

(Two men sitting in dugout)

Father: What happened to ya son?

Man: What happened to me?! What happened to you?! What happened to us?! How did
we end up like this?

Father: Like what? I’m not the crazy one, you are.

Man: O…So I’M the crazy one!? It takes a crazy father to make a crazy son!

Father: Me? Crazy?! Please, You’re so crazy that you don’t even know what crazy is!

Man: Yeah, ya know, you’re right. What is crazy? Am I crazy? I can’t tell. Thinking about being crazy or not makes me crazy. I’m not too sure who I even am.

Father: How do you not even know who you are? Are you that stupid?! Man, you must of taken one too many bullets to the head.

Man: You always put me down! The only reason I ever let those bullets in my head was to make you proud! That’s all I’ve ever wanted was for you to be proud of your son. You were the big hotshot army general. I wanted to be you. Can you just leave me alone?! Haven’t I done enough?! I sacrificed my life just to see you smiling at the sound of my name. But no, all that, and you still think of me as the family screw-up.

Father: Well that’s your own damn fault. Your hand signed the army contract not mine. This was your decision and you chose to fuck yourself up.

Man: Well, what was I suppose to do?! War seemed to be my only option. I hated school so I never bothered to get the grades, and you the rest of the stupid family kept pressuring me to be just like you.

Father: For crying out loud, I thought you wanted to go into the army, that’s why I pushed you so damn hard. You bipolar or something? You want to fight you don’t want to fight…so sissy of ya…just like your mother….wanderin’ around in every fuckin’ direction.

Man: Ya see that’s why I’m so messed up, because I had you and the bipolar woman as parents. Look where you’ve lead me in a fuckin’ dugout!

Father: Well what were we suppose to do with such an idiot! You said it yourself you were a complete screw-up in high school, so the best we could do is test you in combat. Now you know, you really can’t do shit.

Man: Why are you always putting me down?! I thought fathers were suppose to be loving? Look over there, ya see the Dad’s picking up their boys from school. They look happy. Why didn’t our family ever look like that?!

Father: Son, everyone’s got problems. We’re all screwed-up. Some more than others, but we’re all fuck ups. I fucked up, your mom fucked up, and you fucked up.

Man: Well, now what am I suppose to do?!

Father: I don’t know. Don’t ask me, I’m not even real.

Man: What do you mean, you’re not even real? You’re my Father for crying out loud! I know you don’t love me a whole lot, but you can’t even admit to being my own father!?
Why won’t you help me?

Father: You idiot! I’m just a figure of your imagination! I’m just a part of your messed up mind.

Man: No…you’re my father!!!

Father: No I’m just an illusion.

Man: So am I in a dream?

Father: No.

Man: So I’m in reality?

Father: Yes.

Man: So why are you here? Are you my Father’s ghost? Have you come back from the dead to rescue me?

Father: No, I just said I’m a figure of your imagination. Your Father is still tucked away in his grave, but you’re still here in this dugout, talking to yourself.

Man: How can I be talking to myself if I’m talking to you? We are both in this dugout talking.

Father: No, you are alone.

Man: But I don’t want to be alone.

Father: Sorry son, but you are.

Man: No, no, no, take that back! That’s not true! I’m dreaming, yeah, that’s right, this is just a bad dream. Wake up, wake up, (slaps his face)

Father: Hitting yourself on the face isn’t going to make things any better, you look even crazier.

Man: I need to get back to happy times, I need to get out of this dream.

Father: For crying out loud you’re not in a dream. This is real. You are living alone in a dugout.

Man: Shut-up!!!

Father: You’re alone, always will be, you’re trapped, always will be...

Man: Lalalala, I can’t hear you!!!!!

Father: You’re trapped, you’re alone, always will be…

Man: LA-LA-LA-LA I can’t hear you!!!!!!!!!

Father You always will be trapped and alone.

Man Shut the Fuck Up!!!!!!!!!!!!!! What’s wrong with you?! I thought you were suppose to be help me?

Father: You’re not listening to anything I say.

Man: You’re saying mean words….I don’t like mean words (rocks his body back and forth)

Father: You’re pathetic!

Man: You’re mean!!!!!

Father: You’re fuckin’ insane

Man: Go away!! You’re hurting me! Leave me alone, just leave me alone!!!!!!!!

(Man in fetal position in dugout)

Creative works in progress

During my first semester at U.P.S I developed an interest in play-writing. I was fortunate to take a class that incorporated play-writing in the curriculum. Here are some samples of theatrical work I produced during the first semester. It is pretty raw, but I would love suggestions or comments to improve it. Thanks.
The Dugout

Man dressed in rags, unshaven, and filthy, sitting in a red mobility chair sitting in a empty dugout in a local park

Man: I hear you! I hear you! That’s enough already, geez, will you cut it out ?! Ugh, My stomach has been growling at me for weeks. It just doesn’t ever seem to shut up. You know you’re so demanding, its not like I can get you food anytime you feel like it. Just because my shirt is stained doesn’t mean I’m a chef. I really don’t want to think about food right now, so it would be nice if you would stop asking me to feed you. I feel weird digging out of the trash, that’s why I hardly ever go trash digging. I would rather sit in the baseball dugout and sleep, that way I’m in the shade and away from the sun. Since you are being extra obnoxious today I guess I will just have to look through the garbage.

Man makes  his way out of the abandoned dugout and to the nearest trashcan

Man: Hey look a coffee cup! Yes! It actually has coffee in it still. Usually when I find the coffee cups they’re empty so I ended up drinking flat soda. I haven’t had coffee for so long, but I have never really been a big coffee fan, but I always loved meeting the guys in the local coffee shop and sipping in fresh brewed memories. But lately, I’ve been taking some time for myself and takin’ it easy. Hopefully the guys and I can catch up one of these days over our luxury drink. During those seven years, a cup coffee was like eating mom’s homemade pecan pie. But now that I’m back its become a bittersweet brew for me; it always depended on how well we ran around the horrors of it all, and how many lumps of sugary memories we could dump into the bitter experience. When I look down into the brownish liquid all I see is  the dark jungle that I lived in for seven years. I see thick overgrown vines and the paranoia. Now, everyone around me is out there grooving to the disco and tripping into waves of color and light, while I spend my evenings in the dark dugout.

Man: It wasn’t all bad, I mean, Vietnam exempted me from college papers, and a hefty tuition and gave me what any teenage boy would want to do: just sit on your ass. As much as don’t like to go out to those crazy night scenes, I’ve always wanted to try out the latest fad, dancin’ around the colorful checkerboard floor. It’s harder to see the crew when they are all out in the clubs,  they wouldn’t want to be seen with a cripple. So I’ve  just been waitin’ for more coffee talks.

Finishes the coffee, as he puts the cup back into the trashcan he notices a receipt from the year 2000

The millennium?! Already?! What the Fuck?! Year 2000! Is this some kind of joke. Maybe this is a misprint, yeah, It can’t be year 2000 already. The clock wasn’t ticking this fast, last I checked. I could have sworn it was 1975.

Man wheels himself across the street to the nearby school and looks at a calendar on the reception desk, sees that it is in fact the year 2000.

Time has really changed I guess. Where have I been all this time? Did the dugout freeze me? But it’s not cold in there. Hmm that’s strange. Is this real?  Maybe I’m in a dream, I spend my days sleeping, so I’m probably in a really vivid dream right now. Maybe if I close and then open my eyes I’ll really wake up from the dream.

Closes his eyes for about ten seconds and only sees that he is in the same exact position and place.

What? I didn’t move, I’m still in the dream. I thought dreams end when you wake up? Maybe I’m still asleep? Or what if I’m dead? Was I shot?

Checks around his body for wounds, sees that he is fine

I definitely didn’t get shot, so I’m alive, that’s good. What a peculiar dream I’m in. But this dream is exactly like my reality. I can’t tell them apart. Everything seems to be the same except for the fact that it is supposedly year 2000. The one thing that will definitely indicate the year I’m living in is the children. Yeah I’ll go look at the children. Children signify the present right? Sure they do, they’re young and hip they know what’s going on.

He wheels himself over out of the reception area and outside the cafeteria building full of children aged 11-14, sees them in through the window playing with Nintendo Gameboys.

Look at those kids with their gadgets, investing their time in a screen. Why would they want to remove themselves from reality?! WHY???!! Don’t they want to not know who they are and  where they are?  Why would they purposely trap themselves in a fantasy world, staring into these little handheld prisons. I don’t even know what happened to records. Where are my records?!

Speeds away from the school back to his dugout and starts frantically looking around for his records, but tilts to one side and tips his chair over and falls to the ground.

FUCK! My mind is just as shriveled up as my useless legs! Where I am?! Who am I?! Fuck this chair! Fuck Vietnam!!!!!!!!! Where is reality?? Is it in the deepest part of the jungle? Is it in the in the children? Is it now, with me on the ground?  Is life living in the muck and grime? Is there anything better for me? Will I ever make it out of the ground, will I ever see out of the grunge and into the glory I once had? I won’t ever know, will I?! I’ve been living a fuckin’ dream all my goddamn life! Fuck you America!

Throws flag attached to scooter in the dirt, struggles to get back in his chair, cursing to himself.

Fortune Fish

While I was at one of best friend's house, her mom, who is practically my mom, put a fortune fish on my hand for fun. At first, the little red strip of paper didn't do anything; it sat motionless and limp on my hand. In my mind, I thought: 'wow, Am I really that brain dead right now? I know I've been watching a lot of T.V and You Tube Videos, but really?!" Suddenly the fish's tail started to lift up and then its head followed. I was in love. Well, that's what the fortune said. Initially, I was baffled, my romantic life at the moment is as exciting as an episode of a Disney channel T.V show. Then I realized that I wasn't in love with a certain guy, bur rather with my life right now. I love all parts of it, even my shallow love life. I'm grateful that I don't have to deal with romantic drama, and recognize that a special guy will eventually stumble into my life. Right now, I'm nourishing my mind, body and soul with the sunshine above me, the laughter and smiles of friends and family, and the delicious food they make for me. I'm in love with everyone and everything around me. I feel eternally grateful to know the people I know.

I truly believe that love is the greatest force in the world. It can get us through the toughest challenges and roughest patches of our lives. As awesome as college is, the beginning was a nightmare. Everything was too unfamiliar and foreign: the people, the weather, the classes, the food, the dorm room etc. For college bound readers, the trick is to incorporate as many familiar things into your first semester as you possibly can. Do not be afraid to call friends and family as many times as you need to. Just hearing a familiar voice could be just what you need to finish a ten page paper. If any of my friends back home see this: Thank you for spending hours of your time, listening to me either complain, brag, nag, or cry. Although you weren't physically present during my first semester of college, you are one of the many reasons why I had such a positive college experience. To the friends that were physically present: I love you and I cannot even fathom what I would have done without your kindness, understanding, and humor. Besides the continual support of friends, a good book also makes the time fly when you want it to: a few weeks before you head home for the holidays. The book that got me through finals week was The Hunger Games Trilogy by Suzanne Collins. I highly recommend it; it is captivating and beautifully written. It tells the story of a girl named Katniss Everdeen who must compete in an extreme survival game. As I followed the story of Katniss's survival, I gained the strength to power through my seemingly brutal finals and impatience. By the time I finished the last page of the last book I landed on the rock I call home. Although college isn't nearly as horrifying as the events in the trilogy, at times, college is like a survivor show: you must complete certain challenges in order to return to home-cooked meals, clean showers, and kind hospitality. What made both of our challenges a little more bearable was love. During the survival competition Katniss is forced to engage in she develops a romantic relationship with one of her competitors. I made a deep, non-romantic, connection with two fellow students at U.P.S, Amy and Jaimie, and strengthen my already strong bond with my fabulous five back home. It doesn't matter what type of love one possesses; love will be the butter to your life: it makes everything a better and smoother, haha. Love is the sun on a rainy day and the blanket on a cold evening. As The Beatles once said, All You Need Is Love. It is all I'll ever need.