Mountainview International Church

©Copyright Note: This play is protected under copyright law and performance is strictly prohibited without the express consent of the author. Though production is generally granted royalty free, please contact Troy Cady for permission to perform this play.

Time and Place: The present. A hotel room. With alternating scenes that “flashback” to home.

Characters:
Nathan: trying to find himself
Pamela: His wife, trying to understand.

(We hear music-Kind of Blue, a morose jazz blues tune--as the lights fade up. There is a bed, up center with a bedside table on either side at the head. A small lamp on each table, a clock on one of the tables, a phone on the other table. It is obviously a hotel room. Off right, the entrance to the room. Off left, the closet/bathroom area. NATHAN enters from right with a suitcase, looking weary. He carries his suitcase and plops it onto the bed. He loosens his tie, unbuttons his collar and rubs his head with his hands. He sits down on the bed, looks at his watch. Pauses, thinking. He picks up the phone. Punches three numbers. Speaks:)

NATHAN: Yeah, Bill. Listen, why don’t you go on down and have dinner without me. I’m not very hungry right now, and I’m tired, so I think I’ll just stay in my room this evening. (Pause) No…no…sure, everything is fine. I just… It’s just been a long journey, that’s all. Besides, you’ve got everything lined up for tomorrow, anyway. No need for more discussion, know what I mean? Okay, fine. See you tomorrow morning. (He hangs up and starts to unpack. While unpacking, he pauses, thinking. He picks up the phone…) Yes, room service, please. (Pause) Hello. I’d like a gin and tonic, please. Room 324. Thanks. (He hangs up. Walks to the end of the bed, sits, thinking)

PAMELA: (offstage flash back voice) What did you want to drink, honey?

NATHAN: (looks strangely in the direction of the voice. Music begins to fade out)

PAMELA: (entering from the opposite side of where the voice came from.) Honey. Did you hear me?

NATHAN: (startled slightly. He’s a bit confused) What?

PAMELA: I said, “What did you want to drink?”

NATHAN: Oh. Uh, yeah. Gin and tonic.

PAMELA: (exiting, then from off…) Is something wrong?

NATHAN: Huh? Oh, no, no…it’s just…I wish I didn’t have to go.

PAMELA: Hon, don’t worry about it, okay? I understand.

NATHAN: I’m just torn because…

PAMELA: (still from off) Don’t worry about it, I said. I know this is just a temporary arrangement, right? I mean, it’s not like this is going to last forever, all this traveling, right?

NATHAN: (unconvincingly) Yeah, I guess so. Just a few more months of this and—

PAMELA: (entering) Here’s your drink.

NATHAN: Thanks. (they pause, looking at each other)

PAMELA: Just remember. This is just the beginning. It’ll get better from here. I mean, we just got married, this is your first big job. We’re going to have to make some sacrifices in the beginning, right? And before long, it’ll all work itself out.

NATHAN: I guess. I’m just not too sure about when this will all end. I mean, what if…?

PAMELA: Honey, don’t worry. Just keep this in mind: Life is like a suitcase. You get out of it what you put into it. So, here… (she puts a card in the front pocket of the suitcase) A little something to remember that I love you. Just pull it out when you’re feeling low, and I’ll be there. (She kisses him on the forehead, looks him in the eye, and says, smiling…) Now, you’d better get packing, ‘cause you’re only going to get out what you put in… (she exits)

(Music starts up again. NATHAN watches her exit, with the drink in his hand. He pauses, looking in her direction. Then, he directs his attention to the drink. He takes a sip and starts to unpack more. After a while, he realizes that something is missing from his papers. He starts to look for it:)

NATHAN: Well, come on. Where is it? Oh, don’t tell me. Oh, God. How could I forget to bring that…What am I…(He pauses) “You only get out what you put in…” (He pauses, looks to the phone, reluctantly dialing. Waits for an answer) Come on, Pam. Pick up. Please, God, pick up. I know you’re there. Come on, come on, come on, come on.

PAMELA: (offstage flashback voice) He’s not answering, is he? I didn’t think so. (Music fades out)

NATHAN: (hangs up phone) I’m sorry, I just couldn’t…

PAMELA: (entering) It’s been 5 years. You don’t deserve this kind of treatment. Why don’t you just forget about it?

NATHAN: Because I can’t “just forget about it.”

PAMELA: Why not?

NATHAN: It’s called unemployment.

PAMELA: So what? Something has to happen soon. They told you that this traveling was only going to last for one year. Then, they said they needed to find a new person before they’d let you stop. And that lasted for a year: “We’re having some trouble finding the right guy.” Then, it was: “train the new guy.” Another year. “Fire the new guy.” And you’re stuck. 5 years, Nate, 5 years. It has to stop sometime. Why can’t you just talk to them again?

NATHAN: (annoyed) I will, Pam! I will! Your nagging doesn’t make this easier! (PAMELA gives him a surprised look. NATHAN realizes his error, then, more gently…) I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. I mean…I will. I’ll try, but I have to go on this trip. We’re closing the deal with this trip, and then, we’ll have some time together. I promise I’ll talk to them as soon as this trip is over. (Pause) Hey. I love you.

PAMELA: Because I can’t keep going like this. I’m starting to feel like I’m not even married. (She exits)

(The music fades in again. NATHAN looks off in her direction. Seated on the bed, he holds his head in his hands. He gets up and finishes unpacking, taking a good amount of time.)

PAMELA: (offstage flashback voice) I think I’ll take a little trip myself. (Music fades out)

NATHAN: What?

PAMELA: (entering) I said, “I think I’ll take a little trip myself.”

NATHAN: (confused) I don’t understand what you’re talking about.

PAMELA: That’s the problem.

NATHAN: What?

PAMELA: That’s the problem: “you don’t understand.” You don’t understand me. You don’t understand how important you are to me. You don’t understand how it makes me feel, holding on, hoping, believing your empty promises. Your empty words. Your empty heart. You’re so empty, you don’t even understand yourself. Who are you? Have you asked yourself that lately: “Who am I?” Who are you? (pause. Wait for answer. There is none.) That’s what I thought. You don’t know who you are. You let your job, your boss, your dad, tell you who you should be. You’re so confused. No wonder you don’t understand me, you don’t even understand yourself.

NATHAN: I know who I am.

PAMELA: Then, tell me, because I don’t know you anymore.

NATHAN: What are you talking about?

PAMELA: I’m talking about the old Nathan. I’m talking about 10 years ago when we first got married. What’s happened to you?

NATHAN: Okay. You’ve made your point. Do you think that I like what I see when I look in the mirror? Do you think that I don’t see how different I’ve become? I do. And it hurts. I just don’t know what to do about it.

PAMELA: Change.

NATHAN: It’s not that easy.

PAMELA: Why not?

NATHAN: Because I can’t.

PAMELA: You won’t.

NATHAN: No, I mean, I really can’t. I’m trapped.

PAMELA: That makes two of us. (Pause. He looks at his watch) Well, I guess we all know what comes next. “I’m sorry, but I’ve got to go. Flight to catch, you know. Still need to pack. It’ll be over soon. I’m almost done training that new guy. After that, I promise…” (Pause) Just do yourself a favor: make sure you get everything that you need in that suitcase. ‘Cause, you know… “Life is like a suitcase. You only get out of it, what you put into it.” (She exits. Music fades in.)

(NATHAN watches her exit. Pause. Sit on the bed. Pause. He breaks down, sobbing.)

NATHAN: Oh, God! What have I become? Oh, God, Pam! I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. (He collects himself, pauses, thinking, gets up and starts to pack, weeping, but trying to hold it in. Not wanting to lose control. He finishes packing. Picks up the phone. Dials) Yeah, Bill. Uh…uh….I’ve come to a decision: your training’s over. Yeah. You’re doing this one solo. (Pause) I’m heading out now. I’ve got everything that you need here. All the papers. Oh, except, I forgot something at home. I’ll Fed Ex it to you. That reminds me: “Life is like a suitcase. You only get out of it what you put into it.” (He puts on his coat. Picks up his suitcase. Just before exiting, takes one last look at the room, turns, closes the door. Lights fade to black, except where the suitcase was: those lights fade out very last. The music fades out.)

END OF DRAMA