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| Tim
Jeffrey has written numerous plays, some of them performed on the
radio, and others on stage. He has just re-done a radio comedy, PARKING
AT BELL CREEK, as a musical comedy with composer Craig Furkas.
You will find both this and other samples of plays and their synopses
by clicking on the title links. I CAN FEEL MY HEART (Comedy) I CAN FEEL MY HEART (back
to top)
Dr. Carson, large, gamboling, his smock heavy in the pockets and swinging, enters from door rear as man, center with his young son on the table fore, tries to console him. Florid, probably mint on his breath and too much cologne, Carson slaps his hands together enthusiastically, stops dramatically with them still touching.
Father: Ear infection again. It's giving him a pain right along... Carson: (Disregarding) Hey, how many fingers? Kid: (Snuffling)Three. Carson: You're supposed to say blue. Then I'd say you were blind and your ears would at least be better than that. Father laughs. Kid isn't sure. Father: We think he probably needs tubes. Carson: Well, thanks doctor. Shakes the man's hand and leaves the room in haste. Returns, hands behind his back as if in a new room and curious about something. Carson: You think you need tubes in your ears? Kid: I don't want tubes. Carson: Which hand? Kid: That one. Carson: Wrong. Shows both hands are empty. Sits down with kid and tickles him, which has its effect. Carson sits him on his lap, producing an instrument to look in the ears. Does this as he speaks. Carson: Where'd you get all that mud in your ears? Kid: I don't know. Mud? Carson: You could grow carrots in there. Kid: Could? Carson: Wait a doggone minute. Where'd you get that penny wax? Kid shrugs. Has no idea what such a thing would be. Wan smile from daddy. Doctor pretends to dig in a finger, reveals a penny in the palm of a hand. Carson: Wait, wait...what's this thing? Kid: A penny!(enthralled) Look dad! Father: Yeah, I see. Carson: What's going on here...(checking other ear) Well, Another penny in his hand. Kid: (Accepting this one as well) Boy...that was in me too? Carson: Your head's a piggybank. Kid is laughing now, joined by Kelleher and the father. Carson brings a silver probe from his pocket, a wire curl at the end. Kid: Kay...(Giggling) Carson: Hold still now. Kid: Yep. Carson draws out a clump of wax that was blocking the ear. Carson: Lookee there. It's copper paste. Kid: Wow. Carson: How many pennies would that'a made? Kid: Bunch. Carson bends the kid's head toward his open palm, shakes it lightly. We hear jangle of pennies in his palm. Carson: Had to get the last of them. Kid: That was in me? Carson: Here, buy something with those. And wash your ears with soap tonight, okay? Kid: I can keep these? Carson: They weren't in my head. Kid: Cool. Carson: Maximum cool.(slaps hands with kid) Dad, there's a rubber syringe I want you to get from the nurse. She'll tell you how to use it to rinse his ears. I'll get the prescription over to the pharmacy. Father: Thanks, that was great, the way you did that. You know, other doctors would... Carson: Do I get a handshake? Kid shakes with him. Father: When we were kids they were more likely to-- Carson: (Ignoring)No tubes, right? Kid: Right. Carson: Non tubular. Father: Thanks, really. Carson: Fine, sure, bye... Brusque, almost rude, as he is turning away from them and they exit. To Mrs. Kelleher, when the door is closed: Carson: As I live and breathe, or you do. Kell: Hello Doctor Carson. They said to wait here. Your nurse. So many people out there when I came in, I-- Carson: I get behind, I suppose. (a beat) I thought I gave you orders not to come back here. Kell: You did. I know. Mad at me? Carson: What's up? Kell: It started again. Carson: You'll have to refresh me. Kell: Spasms in my cheek. Carson: Which you thought was Parkinson's. Kell: Yes. Carson: You never said a laugh trying to escape, but I suppose I'm being foolish to think-- Kell: Well, now there's a pounding in my esophagus. I don't know how to describe it. Is there a test for brain tumors? You said it might-- Carson: Not for the ones that slip down into a throat. We tend to call that a breakthrough. Let me see you here. Uses instrument to study her eyes. Takes his time. Kell: No, remember you said it could be several things..? Carson: What is it you really want to know Mrs. Kelleher? Shuts off light, steps back with hands behind his back. Studies her. Kell: You agree it only pays to be safe, don't you? Carson: As a matter of fact I don't. Kell: I shouldn't have come. Carson: Depends on what you were shopping for. Hi(shakes her hand) Nice day we've got out there, you think? Kell: The medicine yoiu gave me didn't help. It didn't help. I still have this feeling. I'm still not well.
Carson: No? Kell: I'm not optimum. I could be better. Carson: Well, no choice but to take a right at that star and Kell: What? Carson: Desperate moment of irresponsible levity. It won't happen but every few seconds or so( producing his stethescope and pressing to her chest) Laugh please. She coughs. He steps back. Comes to her again. Well, now we know the problem could be linguistic. I asked you to laugh. Kell: Laugh? Carson: Sounds kind of crazy, I know. Yes, please. Waits. She does nothing immediately. Carson: Help me out on this: You wouldn't call this 'out of control' would you? Kell: Why am I laughing? Carson: (as if guessing) Ah, let me see..You didn't vote for Reagan or Bush? I give up. Kell: What do you want me to laugh for? Carson: Oh, I don't know...spontaneity? Kell: Oh. She obliges. Carson: Planned spontaneity. (listens) Again please. She coughs again. Carson: Ghastly. You're really not very good at that are you? Kell: I believe you're simplifying the problem. Carson: Yes. The problem. Kell: I'm not usually myself. Did you ever feel that way? Carson: Only when I was being someone else. Listen, Mrs. Kelleher, I don't want to give you anything, any stellazines especially, like before. Kell: You must think-- Carson: Bad news first? Kell: Dear God. Carson: First? Kell: Just tell me. Carson: I'm afraid...(she makes small screech) you're in fine fettle. He leaps to one side and makes comic business of plugging his ears. Kell: But what does that mean, really? Carson: Healthy. But don't fret. This isn't to rule out some awful
surprise. Cancer and gruesome disease is everywhere. Kell: This is to make me laugh... Carson: God no. I'd need stellazines. Imitating Brando, staggers, throws wide his arms. Carson: STELLA! Jumps to his feet clutching his stethescope, puts it against her back. Carson: Breathe out. Kell: I know what I read about all the drugs we take, but I don't
react like the others. I'm not an addictive Carson: Out! Breathe...out... She lets out air. MERELY NEIGHBORLY (back to top) ©Tim Jeffrey, l995 It is the aftermath of a pleasant evening. June and Howie Hagberry are just saying good night at the door to their guests, Rob and Laura Poopsie. Howie: Drive carefully now. Laura: Thanks for the beautiful evening, June. I love your wall coverings. June: Oh stop! You’re too sweet! They’re pathetic trash, but thank you anyway. Rob: (to Howie)You’ll have to come over to my house and saw things, rip wall lathe and compare hammers. Laura: Our house dear (transparent congenial laughter). Honestly, men! June: You bet, Laura. Howie: Come on over here and watch big screen television. I’m getting that next. And then a self-cleaning pool and a car alarm. Laura: Lucky dickens! June: (cutely) Well, if you do, I want a Latvian gardener. Rob: I’ve got The Club. Nobody gets my goods! Howie: Better safe than sorry. June: Well, you’d better get a start on it. It’s a long way. Rob: I’ll put her on cruise. Howie: No problem there. Laura: We had a fabulous time. You’re wonderful hosts. We’ll
have to June: Let’s do that. Wouldn’t that be fun? Rob: I’ll show you my guns and knives. Howie: That’s acceptable. June: You kids watch it now, those roads are slick! Laura: Tell Mario Andretti here(giggles pointedly)... Howie: What you got in that beast, anyway? Rob: I overhauled it with saddle wraps, a 516 over-barrel on June: I’d walk you out there but I don’t know what I did with my shoes. Howie: Stop your yammering, Juney. Laura: He needs a good spanking. Howie: Please... June: (to him) You are so bad. You see how he embarrasses me? Rob: Gotta go guy, be good. Take care, stay warm, be sweet. Peace. Howie: You got it. All right. I hear you. I’m straight. Be cool. Keep the faith. Two beats as the women anticipate more cliches. Then: June: Any who, you tell those beautiful urchins of yours to toe the line. Laura: If they don’t I’m going to tan some behinds! Howie: Gotta love the rugrats. Rob: Laura, you’re keeping these good people up. Let’s roll. Howie: Lay a patch, Robbo. Rob: Hey. Given. You’re reading my mind. June: Kiss, kiss, hugs to all. They are stepping out to the porch now as June gets ready to shut door. Laura: How did you get these to root in pots out here with the summer we’ve had? Rob: Laura, let’s go! Laura: Isn’t he cruel? Howie: You guys don’t know when you’ve got a good thing. June: Listen to this...It is to barf. By-eee! Laura: We had a great time... Door finally is closed. They come back inside, and before turning out lights... Howie: Rob is good people. June: So is Laura. Howie: She talks a bit. June: She doesn’t have a lot of self-confidence. He doesn’t help matters. Howie: He’s a little hard to get to know. Loud chirp of wheels pealing outside. June: Something must have happened. She was never like that. Howie: Well, marriage will do that to you... June: What makes you say that? Howie: I don’t mean us. June: What does he do for a living? Howie: They didn’t say, which I found strange. June: I know she doesn’t work. Never has. Must be nice. Howie: He makes a lot of money, from what he says. June: They certainly wanted to make that perfectly clear, didn’t they? Howie: Well, to afford a house like that... Unless they’re
mortgaged June: I like our house just fine.
June: They’re so phony. Howie: I could never be like that. June: Me either. Howie: They must be really unhappy. June: I feel sorry for them. Howie: Let’s just be glad our values are intact. June: Amen. But what are we going to do when they ask us to come Howie: We’ll make up something. June: Gawd. What a dreadful evening. Howie: Well, it’s over. Don’t sweat it. Let’s just get to bed and-- Doorbell sounds. June: Who at this hour...? I’ll get it. Howie: No you won’t. I’m the man... He swings open the door and Rob and Laura charge in, down center. June: What...did you forget something? Rob: Glad you guys are still up. Laura: We felt bad about tonight. Rob: Yeah, we couldn’t just leave it like it was. We had to come back. Laura: It was so superficial, don’t you think? June: What’s that? Rob: The whole evening. June: We hadn’t noticed. We had a perfectly-- Laura: Sure you did. You noticed. All that hokey poke about how well we’re doing. Howie: But we’re happy for you. Rob: You’re lying. Laura: We’re not doing well. Rob hasn’t worked in three months.That’s why I asked for your recipe, June. So you’d offer to send some of the food home with us. June: Well, I’ll get busy right now and wrap something-- Laura cuts her off with a BLOODY SCREAM. Laura: If you take one step toward that kitchen I’ll rock
your world, She has assumed unmannerly and unladylike karate-crouch. She relaxes when June decides to stay put. Rob: And I made out like we were getting along so well. Laura: We’re not. We fight all the time. He’s been teaching the kids to make fart noises with their armpits. He never gets off the couch. He used to work under the car all the time. I miss it. I would go out to the garage and look at those soiled dungarees sticking out from under the sidepipes and think ‘This is my man.’ Rob: I feel unconnected though. Laura: I’m so lonely I could scream. June: Don’t do it again, please. Howie: Well that’s okay. Rob: For whom? What is? Howie: Whatever...you know, whatever you want. Laura: No it’s not okay. We’re going loco. Howie: At least you have your health. Laura: I’ve been diagnosed with inoperable penultimo juvenilia. Howie: Yow. June: What is that? Rob: Her pores are closing one by one, slamming shut like doors. June: Good grief. Rob: She’ll be glazed and shiny as a marbelized bowling ball. Howie: There’s nothing they can do? June: It’s none of our business. Rob: We wanted to share it with you because we’re in misery. Howie: Hey, everybody has hard times. Laura: We just couldn’t stand what phonies we were tonight.
There’s June: We don’t think any less of you though. Laura: We don’t care what you think. But you were probably
talking June: Not at all. Were we? Rob: See, really we can’t agree on whether we want any more children or not. The ones we have are losers. Howie: Now don’t say that. Laura: We want someone to know us. we’ve lived our lives all wrong. Rob: We wanted everything for ourselves and we gave the kids televisions and money and cars so they would stay out of our hair. It’s an American story. Laura: I can’t bear another child. I’m not a pack mule. Rob: And I can’t bear to have sex with her any more. Laura: We can’t agree on television shows or when to flush the toilet. Howie: I vote for -- June: Howie. Shut up. Rob: But see, this is the real conversation. Like when do you guys flush? Because I say you can leave it all night. Laura: If it was up to him the thing would fill for days. Rob: It saves the environment. You get what I mean? June: That’s interesting. Laura: You really don’t think so, but you say that because at base, we all just want to be liked, and someone told you that you could carry off this smarmy, virtuous girl scout routine. I didn’t even have to learn that in a therapy class. June: Oh my God, he used our toilet and I don’t remember it flushing. Howie: Oh drop it, will you? June: Go check for me. Laura: We want you to know us. June: Does it have to be by what you leave with us? Rob: Sometimes when I remove my socks at the end of the day, I run my fingers between my toes; then I smell my fingers, like so. It calms me. June: We only have one bathroom! Laura: Sometimes I see my life as get up, watch game shows all June: Envious? Do you know what I do? I file records for sloppy, undersexed and unimaginative, disorganized executives who talk on the phone all day and yawn. I’m a wet nurse! Laura: I have skid marks in my underwear, this very moment. I can’t get them out, and still I wear them. Rob: I fret over the quarter in the parking meter, try to hurry
to not Howie: I have size seven shoes. Rob: I thought they were small for your imposing size. June: What kind of talk is this? Howie: She’s constipated. June screams. Laura: See? This is talking. Now we’re doing something together! Rob: I try to figure out eternity and I can’t. It scares me. Howie: At night, I dream of shameful displays involving lost loves, including the manicurist, and culinary feats of daring while on a cross country trip. Suddenly I’m an Arthurian novelist in jodhpurs. June: Look what you’ve done to Howie! Rob: Good man. I feel closer to you. June: Get out. Laura: See Juney, these are real emotions. Tell me a secret and
I’ll June: I’m nervous all the time, I have a rash, and an uncle I never met committed suicide and I feel guilty because I don’t care. Laura: Aha! June: And my window dressings are cheap looking and threadbare
and Rob: Sure. Whatever you want. Howie: Sometimes when I’m walking across a parking lot at
work I Laura: Flounce away. No one should put a limitation on flouncing. June: GET OUT! (Leads them threateningly toward the door.) Laura: Now we have friends. We’re not alone. Rob: Honesty is always better. June: Kiss my wet Willy! Laura: Great. We’ll be in touch. Rob: This is a lot better than those things we were saying about They exit. June slams the door, exasperated. June: What things? What could they be saying about us? Howie: Your ‘wet Willy’? You don’t have a wet Willy. June: How would you know?
RING AROUND (back to top) BUNDINI: WE GETTIN SUED NOW? WHO’S HIS DADDY? FRANK: ELVIS. GAS: COULD BE YOURS, BUNDINI. LANA: KEEP A CIVIL TONGUE NOW. DOC: I SHOULD HAVE BEEN A PSYCHOLOGIST. BUNDINI: YOU’VE BEEN EVERYTHING ELSE. YOU MY IDOL DOC. I’M THE SPIRIT, YOU THE PHILOSOPHER KING.
LANA: LOST SOULS EVERYWHERE. GAS: LOST. BUT THEY NEED US. THE WORLD NUTS. ME, I’M AFRAID FOR CHAMP. GEECHI: CHAMP GOT THIS ONE LETTER A FEW MONTHS BACK, SAYS SHE WATCHING HIM. “I’M WATCHING YOU ...” LIKE SHE ON THE PHONE OR SOMETHIN. TICKLE ME. SHE EVEN TRY TO DESCRIBE WHAT HE WEARIN. FRANK: WHAT SHE SAY HE WAS WEARING? GEECHI: BOXING TRUNKS. NAW, MAN. I’M PLAYIN WITH YOU. BUNDINI: I GOT ME SOME WOMEN, TOO, ALL COLORS ... GEECHI: YEAH, MONEY GREEN. GAS: I GOT PLENTY GREEN. GEECHI: MAN, DON’T EVEN START. (OPENS HIS WALLET) NOW, SHUT UP OR I DON’T LET YOU SEE IT AGAIN. BUNDINI: ALL OF Y’ALL FOOLS. GAS: THAT AIN’T MONEY. YOU RIDE THE BUS WITH THAT, MAYBE ... CAN’T AFFORD NO TRANSFER. FRANK: I CARRY TWO GRAND MINIMUM AT ALL TIMES. GEECHI: YEAH, WELL THEN BUY YOURSELF SOME CLOTHES. GUNSHOTS RING OUT. ALL DROP TO THE FLOOR. BUNDINI: SOME OF YOUR COUSINS COME TO CALL? MORE SHOTS. FRANK: WHAT’S THAT SHIT? I’M NOT FROM THE SOUTH. GEECHI: TELL HIM WHAT YOU MEAN BY COUSIN... MORE SHOTS. BUNDINI: Y’ALL COUSINS TO US. PLUGGIN’ EACH OTHER SO MUCH PROBABLY GIVE BIRTH YOUR OWN GRANDADDY. GEECHI: AND HE BE PART GOAT TOO! GAS: I’M GONNA FIRE BACK. BUNDINI: CHAMP SAYS NO VIOLENCE. GAS: YEAH? MY DOCTOR SAYS FOR NO BULLETS TO ENTER MY BODY, TOO. MORE SHOTS AND WINDOWS BREAKING. FRANK: WHERE’S CHAMP? BUNDINI: MUSLIMS TAKING CARE, OVER TO THE MAIN HOUSE. COLD FRONT (back to top) LAVAR (To his surprise, Gee bursts out laughing) (Now he has Gee’s attention.) (Gee, now a student, listens. Gets up silently, grabs door.) (Lavar isn’t sure now.) (Leaves. Lavar bucks, tries to free himself.) |
