The Prodigal Box

The Prodigal Box
by Bob Prescott

Open to the front porch of an old house. ERIKA is sitting on the front steps and JIM is seated on a bench up stage right from her. They are siblings, both in their early twenties, single. ERIKA seems distraught, but JIM is studying a small wooden box he has come across.

ERIKA: I still just can’t believe he is gone. It just seems unreal. Like this is another one of his jokes, and he is gonna just pop out of the basement and say, “Gotcha!”

JIM: Yeah, but that was a nice service, wasn’t it?

ERIKA: He looked so peaceful. I think he would have liked it.

JIM: And I must say, Erika that was a beautiful eulogy. You simply have a way with words.

ERIKA: (A smile) Thanks, Jim. That means a lot. We were pretty close.

JIM: I didn’t know you two still played checkers every Sunday afternoon.

ERIKA: He still let me win too. He insisted that he didn’t, but I could tell. I’m not a little girl anymore. (She notices the box)

JIM: Yeah.

ERIKA: What is that?

JIM: This? I’m not sure, but I think he would have wanted me to have it.

ERIKA: What did he leave it to you in his will?

JIM: No, I found it. It was in a board, underneath his night stand.

ERIKA: And he said he wanted you to have it?

JIM: Well, not word for word so to speak—

ERIKA: Then what makes you think it’s for you?

JIM: Well, I am the oldest.

ERIKA: So…

JIM: Well, back in the day, that’s how an entire inheritance worked.

ERIKA: Well, this isn’t “back in the day”

JIM: There are still traditions. I think it was something rather dear to him, and so
it just makes sense that he would pass it on according to tradition.

ERIKA: Oh cut the bullshit, there is something valuable in there, isn’t there.

JIM: Maybe.

ERIKA: Well, we both know I was the closest to him. If it was something dear to him, he would have left it to me. I was the one he confided in. There are some things that he told me, that he had never even told Grandma.

JIM: So then he told you about this?

ERIKA: Well, not exactly, no. But for something that important, he would want me to have it before he would want you to.

JIM: Well, if you two were so amazingly close, why didn’t he tell you? Why didn’t he simply leave it to you in his will?

ERIKA: Who knows, but he certainly didn’t leave it to you.

JIM: Well, the world may never know.

ERIKA: What the hell is that supposed to mean?

JIM: It means there is no way you can prove that he wanted you to have it, and so
there is no way I am giving it to you.

ERIKA: You are such an ass sometimes, you know that?

JIM: What? Finder’s keepers.

ERIKA: Oh just grow up, this isn’t some retarded treasure we found in the yard playing treasure hunt.

JIM: No, it’s something I found and you didn’t, and now you’re jealous.

ERIKA: Jealous??

JIM: You heard me right. You’re still pissed I always beat you.

ERIKA: You didn’t always beat me.

JIM: Yes, I did. Name one thing that you ever beat me in.

ERIKA: What?

JIM: Name one thing.

ERIKA: It’s not that you beat me; it’s that I never cared.

JIM: (Laugh) Oh please, that’s why sometimes you were in the verge of tears.

ERIKA: I was five!

JIM: Six!

ERIKA: Whatever, the point is, I was a little kid. I’m not anymore. I don’t hold
grudges.

JIM: Doesn’t matter, I’m still holding the box.

ERIKA: What happened to you?

JIM: What do you mean?

ERIKA: I mean that at one time, you were fun to be with, we used to run in the park
together. When Big Dave started to pick on me, you would stand up to him. You would outwit him and just simply confuse him and you were my hero.

JIM: What is your point?

ERIKA: I remember the time he actually tried to hit you and you never told him you
took karate and moved so fast and put him on his back before he knew what was going on.

JIM: (More emphasis) What is your point?

ERIKA: My point is that ever since Grandma died, you’ve been distant. You’ve been
kind of an ass. Is everything okay?

JIM: Yeah, everything is fine.

ERIKA: No, you are not. (She crosses to him.) What’s going on up there?

JIM: I don’t want to talk about it. (Frustrated, he gets up and crosses away from her. But he leaves the box on the bench.)

ERIKA: Ah ha! Got it!

JIM: No! Give that to me, I found it.

ERIKA: And I deserve it.

JIM: He wanted me to have it.

ERIKA: He didn’t leave it to you.

JIM: He left it to whoever could find it. And that was me.

ERIKA: And then I outsmarted you for it. I deserve it.

JIM: You don’t play fair.

ERIKA: Yes, I do. I beat you fair and square.

JIM: Beat me?

ERIKA: Yes. "Name one thing you ever beat me in." This. I beat you in this.

JIM: So it is about the grudge, I knew it.

ERIKA: No, it’s not. You told me to name one thing I ever beat you in. Well, this is one.

JIM: You suck.

ERIKA: (Examines the box) I wonder what is inside. (Jim looks over in curiosity, and Erika notices.) You don’t know what it is, do you?

JIM: Of course, I do. Why would I fight with you over some box of something I don’t know what it is.

ERIKA: Then what is it?

JIM: What you don’t know?

ERIKA: Nope, not yet, but let me take a peek. (She peeks into the lid, but cannot see anything, but pretends to see it all.)

JIM: What? What is it?

ERIKA: But I thought you already knew.

JIM: Oh come on, are you gonna keep playing this game?

ERIKA: Until you say it.

JIM: I have no idea what is inside it, you know I don’t.

ERIKA: (Smiles mischievously) Then why did you want it so bad. For all you know, it could be some empty box.

JIM: It’s not.

ERIKA: How can you be sure?

JIM: Why would Grandpa have a box, just an empty box?

ERIKA: Why not?

JIM: It is, isn’t it? Just an empty box.

ERIKA: Who knows?

JIM: Well, didn’t you look?

ERIKA: (Laughs) I couldn’t see a thing.

JIM: I knew it! I knew you were lying.

ERIKA: Oh please, I had you quite fooled.

JIM: No, no, I was playing along.

ERIKA: I’m sure you were.

JIM: Well?

ERIKA: Well what?

JIM: What is it?

ERIKA: I don’t know.

JIM: Well then, open it.

ERIKA: No.

JIM: No?

ERIKA: Why did you want it so bad, but never looked yourself?

JIM: Because I didn’t want to know yet.

ERIKA: And you want to know now?

JIM: Yes.

ERIKA: Because now I have it.

JIM: Yes.

ERIKA: Why did you want to know before?

JIM: Because I actually had something of Grandpa’s that you never had. I actually
had something of importance to him that you didn’t know about.

ERIKA: Why would you even care? I thought it was about the money.

JIM: Because Grandpa always loved you more. Because you and Grandpa were best
friends and he would tell you everything, and I just wanted something, something that he gave to me and not to you.

ERIKA: Jim…

JIM: Because I was insanely jealous of your relationship. There, I said it. I was jealous. Are you happy now?

ERIKA: Jim, I’m sorry.

JIM: You were never sorry when you left me out. Remember when we used to be best friends? I didn’t become more distant, it’s that you had a new best friend. You didn’t need me any more. So I didn’t need you.

ERIKA: Jim, we never meant to keep you out.

JIM: Well, you did.

ERIKA: Jim, I’m sorry. I guess I just got so caught up in the relationship Grandpa
and I had and you standing on the outside that I didn’t realize it was us who put you there. That’s not what we wanted, and I know it’s not what Grandpa wanted.

JIM: How do you know? He never quite looked at me like he did you.

ERIKA: Because he didn’t think you really liked him. Because he thought you resented the fact that you were raised by your grandparents. But he loved you.

JIM: He never showed it.

ERIKA: He tried.

JIM: Not to me.

ERIKA: Jim, he was afraid too.

JIM: Of what?

ERIKA: That you would reject him. He saw you as his prodigal son. That soon you would come running back to him, and he would prepare a feast and rejoice in the restoration of the relationship. But he was afraid it was only a dream. And rejection would only diminish that hope.

JIM: Really?

ERIKA: Yeah. You know he always loved those parables, but his favorite was of the prodigal son, because it gave him hope.

JIM: And now he will never get to see it.

ERIKA: Maybe he can.

JIM: Huh?

ERIKA: Maybe he can see us right now. In spirit.

JIM: I don’t exactly believe in ghosts or anything.

ERIKA: Well, think of it logically, maybe he can hear us, and maybe he is smiling. Or maybe he can’t and our words fall on dead ears. Either way, it’s off your chest. And what’s the worst that could happen?

JIM: Grandpops, I’m not sure if you can hear me, but I want you to know, I always did love you, and I am going to miss you. We never did get to restore that relationship, but maybe I can make things right. But first I owe it to someone I know can hear me. Erika, sorry I have been such an ass.

ERIKA: I’m sorry too. I never meant to hurt you.

JIM: I know. You’re all I have left for family. We gotta stick together.

ERIKA: That’s for sure.

JIM: Together, nothing can stand in our way.

ERIKA: Absolutely nothing.

JIM: Starting with this. (Indicates the box)

ERIKA: Take it.

JIM: No, it would mean more to you.

ERIKA: Please, you just showed me how much it means to you.

JIM: Let’s share it.

ERIKA: Share it?

JIM: You bet. What do you think it is?

ERIKA: I think it’s Grandma’s jewelry box.

JIM: I think it’s a secret box.

ERIKA: A secret box?

JIM: You know a place that he put all those secrets that he never wanted anyone to
know.

ERIKA: Then who are we to control his secrets?

JIM: Well maybe it’s not.

ERIKA: But maybe it is.

JIM: Then what do we do?

ERIKA: Nothing.

JIM: Nothing?

ERIKA: Nothing. We bury it outside. He left it to neither of us, so who are we to
take it.

JIM: But we found it.

ERIKA: And we both thought it was something that showed his favoritism towards one of us. But we know it’s not true. We need to let go, and move forward together.

JIM: And this has only separated us.

ERIKA: And brought us back together.

JIM: It did.

ERIKA: Grandpa would be proud.

JIM: Grandpa is proud.

(Blackout)

So that I may understand the complex infrastructure known as the female mind...

I take a deep breath. My heart is going about a million beats a second, and that's rounding down. I have it all planned out. Everything is perfect. There's nothing I don't have planned out. All I have to do is say those words I have planned out. But it's a lot harder than it seems. My palms have already become sweaty and my knee bounces so sporatically, it hits the desk in front of me. Just do it, Bob. What are you waiting for? You have come to the point where you are tired of the bullshit and you don't care as much about the outcome. So what if she says no? The same effect as if you didn't say anything at all. Who are you bullshitting? You dread that rejection. Yes, ultimately it's the same as if you had said nothing, but if you had said nothing you don't have worry about the weird looks afterards, the awkardness, not to mention that hope of maybe in the future is just shot to Hell. But you made it this far. Don't chicken out now.

Take another deep breath, and just do it. And I hit enter for it to be sent over AIM. And that was just over the internet. If I had been looking her in the face through this all... But then, she would have to look me in the face and say no. Maybe it was better like this. Less pressure on her. I don't want her to feel a bunch of pressure at all. She doesn't need that. Take a deep breath and wait for her reply.

But it takes forever, or at least it seems. Glance down at the clock, it must have been 20 minutes ago. Or maybe just 2. It's hard to tell when you heart goes crazy. You begin to worry. What on earth could take her this long to say yes? Unles she isn't saying yes... But you don't want to even think about that. Why would she say no? You left it a no pressure situation. You even outlined how you simply just wanted to get to know her better, that there was no pressure on her for anything. That this was simply a first date. She doesn't have to worry about a thing, just out to have a good time and talk a bit--a gentleman never kisses on the first date anyway. You even mentioned that. There were no expectations. What could she possibly worry about that would cause her to say no?

Finals.

Damn those finals coming up. Apparently she feels she really needs to concentrate on finals. All weekend. I never studied all weekend for finals, and if I did I think I would go crazy without a nice break, but then I am not a good measure on that. She has good priorities straight. Good. I like that. But maybe I could provide a good break from all that crazy studying. I know if I were her, I could use that.

So I offer just that, and make sure I mention that I would not tak her away from her studies very long. Now more of that stuff that I hate. Waiting. God, I hate to wait, especially when it comes to this. Maybe I really should have done this in person. There normally there isn't all this waiting for so long. No, instead there are long awkward pauses. I'm not sure which are worse. But I know this is driving me crazy wondering what's going through her head. Maybe she's just distracted with homework. That would make me feel a lot better about it all. But I still don't like this waiting and waiting. But there is an answer.

So I guess she can't be taken away from her studies at all this weekend. Well this isn't a total no, or is it? Yes, it crossed my mind and it doesn't want to leave. That's how history rolls. So many girls have not been honest with me, so I begin to question whether or not she means what she says or if she doesn't even really want to give me a chance, or if there is something else that scares her. Why can't girls just be upfront? You are worried about hurting my feelings, but it hurts so much more for you to bullshit me. Just remember, the truth will come out. I'd rather it come from you. The best breakup I've ever had was when the girl straight up told me she had no feelings for me. That hse had been dating me for a month and if she didn't have feelings for me now, she doubted she ever would. Plus there was a guy that wanted to date her and she wanted to date him and see where that went. Yes, that was a smack in the face and blow to the ego, but rather refreshing. I couldn't argue with that. I didn't leave wondering what had happened. She was completely honest with me. And I can totally take that. In fact I loved it. And I am still good friends with her.

But this time, what was the case? Was she tring to spare my feelings and probably hurting me more? Or was she simply busy and would give it a shot later? Not sure. But that's life I guess. If I had the answers and wasn't confused, it would probably be because I was dead and in heaven. So the mystery lives on, just with new questions to ponder and investigate.

Three Saturns and a Volvo - A Tease

“Nate!” Arthur yelled across the room. “Get in here! We are doing our opening toast, dude.”
“Yeah, yeah. Just a second, man,” Nate responded. Arthur, often called Art by his friends, just rolled his eyes and walked back into the kitchen. He knew Nate was going to be a little longer than a second. He was sitting on the Couch of Apathy with Nate’s latest female interest. The Couch of Apathy had gotten its name nearly 3 years back during their sophomore year, when people would sit down and not want to move. And Nate was now on that couch and probably would not be moving any time soon.
Brandon was in the kitchen pulling the new champagne flutes out of their box and washing them. He had just bought these glasses the day before, and was now washing them very carefully in their sink.
“Why do you need champagne glasses anyway?” questioned Art. “How often would you ever use them?”
“It’s not about how often, but more of the principle of the thing,” Brandon responded in a soft tone. “You can’t drink nice champagne out of a normal cup. It would just be wrong and insulting to the champagne.”
“Not even Cardinals cups?” grinned Art. The people who had gathered now broke into a chuckle, even Brandon. It was no secret that Brandon was obsessed with the St. Louis Cardinals. No obsessed was not the right word. Obsessed didn’t even begin to describe his love for the baseball team. No one in the state of Indiana seemed to understand such dedication to, of all sports, a baseball team. Brandon did not miss a game if he could at all help it, and there were a whopping 162 games a year, not to mention the playoffs. And if the Cardinals were in the playoffs, you better not get the way of letting him see the game. Someone may die.
“No, not even Cardinals cups,” grinned Brandon. As Brandon was getting the glasses ready, people were slowly trickling into the kitchen for the toast. Brandon scurried to try and get a count on who would be drinking the champagne. He was always the very organized type when it came to things like this. Hell, he had even organized a beer pong tournament last year. I don’t mean just simply getting people to participate, but creating a bracket system, figuring out exactly how much beer would be needed, how much it would cost to do so and how to divide that up amongst participants, what the order of playing should go…etc. Beer pong. A drinking game. A game made for the sole purpose of drinking, and Brandon made it organized.

Chapter One teaser

So I am currently in the middle of a novel, with no title as of yet, but I'm working on it. Here is a little teaser of the first page of chapter one. It is a little rough, but it sets the scene a little. Realize that the plot has not even been touched, but it is more to show that this has a football theme and introduce a couple characters. Let me know what you think.

“Okay, guys,” quarterback Matt Foreman calls their attention, walking into the huddle. “It’s first and ten, but we really need to score. We are down 37 to 42 and only have one minute to go forty yards. We can do this, guys, and we can win this. Shotgun 87 Quick Flood, on set, on set. Break!!”
Matt walks up to the line, analyzing the defense. This was it, the state championships. Only one team here would walk away the state champion. He calls his top receiver, Kevin McKeehan, into motion across the field. A defender crosses with him, showing a man to man defense. Matt looks to Kevin as he sets for the snap. He raises his hand in the shape of a circle, signaling for Kevin to run a post away from the flood. Kevin has good speed on this guy, and should be open for a deep pass and then they can use their last timeout to make an attempt at the endzone.
“Good decision,” Kevin thought. “I can beat this guy.”
“Set!” bellows Matt. And with that, the play begins and Matt drops back into the pocket. Kevin takes off downfield with a sharp cut towards midfield. His defender takes off with him, but can’t quite keep up. Kevin has him beat for sure. Matt launches the ball towards midfield, leading Kevin to about the ten yard line. This may even be touchdown worthy.
Kevin looks back to see the ball in the air. It’s coming to him, but seems to be a little farther than he will be. He kicks into the next gear and pushes all the speed he can muster. He is there but it is a little high. Kevin lunges into the air reaching for this treasure. Everything seems to slow down as he watches the ball float in the air, the white stripe slowly rotating about its axis. Reaching up, the ball fits perfectly into his outstretched hands.
Kevin looks toward the ground to find his footing as the sound of an explosion resounds in his ear. For a moment the world is black, as the world spins in directions unknown to him. As he hits the ground, he can see the ball floating, end over end, in the air. The linebacker who has brought him this shock lands on top of him, putting an elbow into his side, as Kevin grunts in pain. He holds Kevin down, to the sound of many whistles, and loud cheering from his left side.
As Kevin gets up, he surveys the scene. His defender runs to his sideline holding the ball up in the air as his team goes nuts. His team looks like they have just been shot in the heart, as they mope off the field. Kevin begins to run to Matt, but his head feels like it may split in two with each step he takes. He slows to walk as he catches up with Matt. Clinging to his head, he asks, “What just happened there?”
But Matt doesn’t hear him as he turns toward the Gatorade jug and kicks it over with all his force.
Coach Odmark screams, “Matt! We will not have any of that attitude on my sideline. We will finish this with our pride and a respectful attitude. Do not disrespect me or this team!”
“Coach, what happened?” Kevin asks his coach.
But the Rockland City Tigers have kneeled on the ball to run out the clock and become the new state champions.