LISA, a thirty- year-old woman in a hospital gown, enters stage right. She stands center stage, with a spotlight shining on her. Her face is tired and full of emotion. A second spotlight shines to the left of her, but there is nobody there. She turns and addresses the spotlight.
LISA: Oh, good…you’re here. I’ve only got ten minutes and…and quite frankly, I don’t even know what I’m hoping to get out of this. So I’ll go with all of the clichés- understanding, acceptance, catharsis, you say potato, I say potat-oh.
The SPOTLIGHT flickers once, as if to say “yes”.
LISA: (Resolutely) Right. Well, I guess I should introduce myself. I mean, until I got married, I’d never set foot in a church before (SPOTLIGHT doesn’t respond). Yeah, yeah. Not in the mood for the guilt trip today. And even after that, I still didn’t really see why I should. But then (She gulps, and looks down at her flat stomach)…well. And after all of those tests, all of the medications (Shudders in embarrassment), feeling cold hands where cold hands really shouldn’t be. All they could give me for an answer was “God’s plan”. After hearing that for the fourth time, and nothing but that, I thought to myself, “Why not ask the man Himself? See what he has to say for Himself and His little “plan”?
Her voice has become bitter, and the SPOTLIGHT flickers twice, disapprovingly. LISA sighs.
LISA: From what little I’ve heard, they say you’ve got a book up there. Everyone’s names in it, with anything and everything about them. (Half-heartedly joking) And I thought to myself, “Are we talkin’ about God here, or Santa Claus?”
Again, SPOTLIGHT doesn’t respond.
LISA: (A slightly wistful tone) Anyway…I know that this would probably go against your policy or something…but I’d like to make a little request. Do…do you have that book?
SPOTLIGHT: (Flickers once)
LISA: (Beginning to get teary-eyed) Could…could…it’s my babies. I know it’s not the same thing…I know it sounds silly…but I just thought if I could see their names- the names I gave them in secret- it might make me feel like…like they really were here. At least for a little while.
Long, anticipatory BEAT. Then, very quickly, SPOTLIGHT blinks twice in succession.
LISA’s face goes through a variety of emotions. First shock, then devastation, and finally, a flat, bitter gaze.
LISA: (Small, pinched voice. She turns her head away) Uh-huh. Well, I guess up there, they are pretty big rules sticklers, huh? The Commandments and all that sh- stuff. (Her voice slowly grows angrier and angrier as she continues to speak.) Heh. Hey, what was that one Commandment again? “Thou shalt not kill”? Guess it doesn’t apply to you, huh? You can kill an unborn baby with the snap of your fingers, as-as many times as you want. Is that the “plan”, huh? You wake up in the morning, and think to yourself, “Hey now, Lisa Owens. I haven’t done nearly enough to her. How about another miscarriage, huh? THAT oughta do the trick!
She storms out of her light, and over to the SPOTLIGHT, face extremely close, as though it’s an actual person.
LISA: DID IT? DID IT DO THE TRICK? WAS THIS ENOUGH FOR YOU, YOU-YOU-
She lets out a scream of anguish, and falls to her knees, wailing. SPOTLIGHT is still for a few seconds, then slowly starts to move to cover her. It holds over her, unmoving, even as all of the other lights begin to go out. Finally, slowly, but still over LISA, it too fades to darkness.
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