The Masochism of Remembering
Play Excerpt
by Madilyn Lopez
ACT ONE: THE MOTHER
Scene 1
A dark stage. The sound of a projector going. Titlecard: “ACT ONE”. Projection
out. Blackout. Dark once more. Encompassed by this darkness is a classroom: wooden
desks and chairs all profile left to the audience. Facing a green chalkboard. Light leaks
through the ceiling. Water drips. Wood creaks. Wind. The silhouette of a woman leaning
on a desk. Illuminated only partially by skewed light:
LILLEND. When I was very little, about five years old, I was introduced to the concept of the
tooth fairy.I was puzzled. Confused. It hadn’t existed on the material plane I had once known. At
least, not tangibly. I couldn’t reach out and touch her. I tried. She wasn’t there. (A beat) And I
was expected to believe. But the problem was that, at only five years old, I hadn’t believed in
God. I couldn’t touch him. I tried. He wasn’t there. (She thinks) So, I didn’t believe it. I didn’t
believe in God. I didn’t believe in the toothfairy.
A match strike. Temporarily revealing her full face. She’s in a nun’s
uniform. She lights a cigarette. The match dims and dies.
Both of these narratives were spoon fed to me by my father, who I had the littlest of respect for.
This was a constant. A structure. Spoon fed, forced to choke down the irony of his misbeliefs.
Despite having once rejected the idea of an absent father, a God, he presented this biblical figure
to me. In hopes, I assume, that I would have enough faith for the both of us. I believe he feared
Hell still, although no longer believing in a Heaven. Later in life, he abandoned this disdain. In
turn, I had rejected him.
LILLEND begins to pace. She waves her cigarette ‘round airily,
whimsily, and we see the cherry dance around the darkness. Her heels
click, filling an uneasy silence. She is stopped by the sound of a door
creaking. MATTHEW leans in the frame, his shadow pierces through the
darkness as he is backlit by the hall. LILLEND stays where she stopped
and looks straight ahead, taking a drag of her cigarette.
MATTHEW. Hello Lillend.
LILLEND does not respond.
Surely she hears me.
LILLEND. Hello Matthew.
MATTHEW. I thought you weren’t coming back.
He takes a few steps into the room.
LILLEND. Is that what I said?
MATTHEW. Something like that.
He stops.
But you’ve come back.
LILLEND. Home is home.
He takes a few more steps.
MATTHEW. And what of Joana?
MATTHEW wears a winter coat, trousers, a neatly tucked
white tee and a sensible belt. He’s a well dressed boy. The rest of
his appearance is messy. He is and has always been amused by
and infatuated with LILLEND.
LILLEND. (Playing dumb:) What of Joana?
MATTHEW. (He scoffs, laughs even. To himself:) What of Joanna... What of Joana? What of
Joana?
LILLEND. Are you going to answer my question, or are you just going to stand there gawking?
MATTHEW. I am not gawking.
LILLEND. I can feel your gaze from across the room.
MATTHEW. You have a lot of pride.
LILLEND. It’s not pride. You have me confused with ego.
MATTHEW. You have me confused with id.
LILLEND. I don’t want to talk about that.
MATTHEW. Where is Joanna?
LILLEND. She’s been tied up. She’ll be here tomorrow.
MATTHEW. She’ll miss the most important day!
LILLEND. The first day is not nearly the most important day.
MATTHEW. I guess it depends on who you ask.
LILLEND. It does not.
MATTHEW. It does!
LILLEND. It does not.
MATTHEW. I think it does.
LILLEND. (A beat, irritated she shouts:) It does not matter who you ask! It is objectively
unimportant to the rest of the term and her absence is insignificant to anything that happens
today!
You can feel the flint spark contradict the room's coldness.
MATTHEW. Would you face me!
LILLEND spins around.
LILLEND. Happy?!
MATTHEW. Satisfied.
LILLEND. Satisfied?
MATTHEW. “Satisfied” better suits my mood.
LILLEND. Why are you here?
MATTHEW. I told you. For school.
LILLEND. Uh huh...
MATTHEW. You don’t believe me?
LILLEND. For school or for habit?
MATTHEW. Why can’t it be both?
LILLEND. It can’t be both.
MATTHEW. Has anyone ever told you how stubborn you are?
LILLEND, in a fit of indignation, puts the cigarette out and
marches right up to MATTHEW and as soon as they are face to
face, able to feel each other’s breath, all the lights come one at
once.
LILLEND. I am not stubborn.
About the Author:
Madilyn Lopez is a Playwright from Seal Beach, CA. Currently she is enrolled at Cal State Fullerton University as a Theatre B.A. Major with a Concentration in Directing. Her most notable work is an original one-act BRAVA which was chosen to be workshopped as a staged reading at the Kennedy Center American College Theatre Festival in Las Vegas. Instagram: @vegetableaisle; Substack: madilynlopez.substack.com; New Play Exchange: https://newplayexchange.org/users/73502/madilyn-lopez
