Characters:
Dovey -- ["Duvvy"] A woman in her late fifties, who
recently lost her grown son, Robert
Anita -- A woman not quite forty, the
mother of Tyler
Tyler -- A young woman in adolescence,
about seventeen years old
Gwen -- A woman in her late twenties who is single and has no children
Setting: The year is 1986. A group of women have gathered in
the living room of an apartment.
All four women are sitting in a semicircle, working on a quilt. They are seated in chairs, working and talking.
*****
GWEN: (gesturing to a bit of material on the top of a small heap by their chairs) What's that piece over there?
DOVEY: What piece?
GWEN: (pointing with her needle) That piece right there. The one that looks like a little toupee.
DOVEY: That's a piece of Mr. Miller.
GWEN: Who is -- or should I say was-- Mr. Miller?
DOVEY: A teddy bear. I made him for Robbie when he was six.
GWEN: Where's Mr. Miller now, and does he know his toupee is missing?
DOVEY: He's at home, in a box of Robbie's things.
GWEN: Why was he Mr. Miller? What about Fuzzy or Jingles, or something more stuffed animal?
DOVEY: Robbie was friends with the man across the hall, and his name was Mr. Miller.
TYLER: Did he wear a toupee, too?
DOVEY: Probably. He also wore a tan sweater, and had his mailbox key around his wrist on a rubber band. So he probably did.
ANITA: I can't believe you still had scraps. I don't hang onto anything.
TYLER: (under her breath) No kidding.
DOVEY: Well, you just never know when something's going to come in handy. And isn't it funny the things that stick around? Scraps and school pictures. They never die.
ANITA: Neither do tacky wedding presents.
TYLER: You should know.
GWEN: (gesturing towards a section of the quilt they are working on) What's this velvet part, Dovey?
DOVEY: Part of hood they gave him when he graduated, although I can't remember which time. I thought the material was nice, though, so I saved it. He was going to throw it out, and I said, "no, don't because you might need it."
ANITA: This blue part, what's this?
DOVEY: It's from one of his suits. He had it altered after he started losing so much weight, and they gave him the material they cut out of the jacket. I told him to keep the extra in case he ever needed a patch.You know, they can repair stuff now so you can barely tell you had a hole. Of course, he didn't get much use out of the blue suit. He was just too sick to go anywhere. I buried him in it, though.
ANITA: My mom used to save the pockets off of old jeans to make knees.
TYLER: To make knees?
ANITA: Sure. You'd take the pockets off of old jeans that were too far gone to wear anymore, and you sewed them on the jeans that still had some life.
TYLER: Not a bad idea.
ANITA: Thank you.
TYLER: (pulling impatiently at a stitch) I don't know how you all talked me into this hair ball project.
ANITA: You made a serious mistake. You went to church once, and we drafted you. Besides, you were selected for your incredible sensitivity to social issues.
TYLER: I got selected because I always give in to you.
ANITA: You? Give in? Not that I've ever seen.
TYLER: Well, at least my fingers are going to give in. Wouldn't it be a lot quicker just to zip this quilt square thing up on the old Singer and call it a day?
ANITA: Quicker, maybe. Void of sentiment, definitely. Besides, think of all the fun you'd miss.
TYLER: I am thinking of what I'd miss. Besides, I haven't done anything artsy-craftsy since that potholder back in Girl Scouts.
ANITA: I'm still using it.
TYLER: When you cook. Which isn't often. Which is why it's still around in such good shape.
ANITA: I cook.
TYLER: You thaw. And nuke. And order out.
ANITA: In this day and age that counts, kid. If you buy it and serve it at home, you've had a home cooked dinner. Besides, why should I kill myself cooking? It's just the two of us, and only one of us eats.
TYLER: I eat.
ANITA: When?
TYLER: I eat. I just don't agree with you that the major food groups are frozen, fried, and delivered.
ANITA: You left out nuked. But for a person who lives on bird seed, you know a lot.
GWEN: Thank God for microwaves. Without mine, I'd be the poster child for Twinkies.
TYLER: (shaking her hand vigorously) Ouch, dammit. I injured myself. I guess that's why they say it's dangerous to share needles. (Pauses, then is aware of Dovey) Oh, Dovey, I'm sorry. I really am. I didn't mean anything by that. I say a lot of stuff that doesn't mean anything.
DOVEY: That's okay, honey. Besides, that's not how Robbie got sick. He didn't even smoke. Or eat refined sugar, for that matter. What a pain he was at Christmas, too. I'd cook for weeks, and he'd sit around and watch while we pigged out on fudge. He might as well have enjoyed himself. (she sighs, and there are a few seconds of silence)
GWEN: Dovey, where did you get your name?
DOVEY: From my little brother, Frank. He couldn't say "Dorothy." So, I've been Dovey for sixty years. It's even carved into Ronald's and my headstone.
GWEN: On your headstone? Already? But you're still healthy!
DOVEY: I'm fine. As long as I way paying for Ronald's name to go on, I had them do me, too. Besides, it was cheaper. They charge by the letter, but there's a set-up fee.
GWEN: Don't you want your full name on there?
DOVEY: What for? Nobody'd know it was me. I don't want people saying, "Who's that woman with Ronald?"
TYLER: What difference would it make?
DOVEY: Ronald was a good man. He wouldn't want people talking like that.
ANITA: What name's on your driver's license?
DOVEY: I don't drive. And if I did, it would say age 48 and 125 pounds.
TYLER: How do you get anywhere?
DOVEY: Well, Ronald did all the driving, then I just sort of made do after he died. I don't really want to get behind the wheel at this age. Between the bus, my neighbors, and Dial-A-Ride, I'm really okay. Really.
TYLER: But Dovey, don't you ever want to get out? I mean, just to see what's going on in the world?
DOVEY: How much can you see out the windshield? Besides, I've been out, I know what's there. And now I'm back in. Except when I cash my check and pay my bills. Or buy groceries. Even widows have to eat. And sometimes I go get my hair done, if I've got to look respectable for something. But that's not often, thank God.
GWEN: You're front and center tonight, aren't you, Dovey? And you managed to get all of us here.
DOVEY: Well, I put in some time with that grief support group. You're supposed to do something positive. I thought making a square for the AIDS quilt was a good idea. Besides, I already had all the stuff to do it. And I got you to help out.
TYLER: God yes. I just hope you can stand all this excitement. I know I'm short of breath.
ANITA: I hadn't noticed. (suddenly, as if just remembering) Gwen, the last time we got together, you said you were up for a promotion, didn't you?
GWEN: I was, and still am. They haven't made a decision yet, though. I'm sure it's the old wardrobe issue.
TYLER: What's that? They have a dress code or something?
GWEN: Sort of. It's the fly versus skirt thing.
TYLER: You mean discrimination? Isn't that illegal? I mean, it's supposed to be.
GWEN: Have you ever had a job?
TYLER: Sure. I work now.
GWEN: Where?
TYLER: Just at a fast food place. I'm part time.
GWEN: What do you wear?
TYLER: We all wear the same thing -- brown pants and a white shirt. And a hat with a chicken on the front.
GWEN: What does the manager wear?
TYLER: She wears the same thing, except she has a badge and a little string tie. And no hat.
GWEN: No hat requirement for management? Maybe I should consider a career change.
TYLER: No, you'd hate this place. When I get home at night, Mom says I smell like a picnic in hell. Besides, I don't think I'll ever be able to eat chicken again. Too bad, too. Red meat's so bad for you and everything.
GWEN: Good point. I hadn't considered all the angles.
DOVEY: Gwen, who does the hiring at your company? Can't you just tell the poobahs you want to apply for the position?
GWEN: The board picks who they want. And they're all good old boys. All married men with wallets full of fat wives and ugly kids. I swear, old polyester goes to their closets to die.
TYLER: Can't you just find something else?
GWEN: I thought you said I'd end up hating chicken.
TYLER: I don't mean to the Chicken Bucket. I mean to a real job. You can type, can't you?
GWEN: I type. I just don't stereotype.
TYLER: What's that?
GWEN: It's what happens when you go to secretarial school. You also learn how to make coffee. And survive on an income that would gag a paperboy.
TYLER: I'm not following you, Gwen.
GWEN: I'm sorry, Tyler. I'm trying to be funny. I have thought about finding another job. But I don't know if it would be any different or just the same old crap in a new shovel.
DOVEY: I'm glad I never worked.
ANITA: What do you mean you never worked? You raised a family, didn't you? And kept things going after Ron died. (Softly) And before Robbie died.
DOVEY: I did get awfully good at paperwork, didn't I? You know, I sort of miss some of the wheeling and dealing I did. I made their life hell at the hospital. The accounting department hated me. Of course, they got even. They also got the house.
GWEN: Well, you got this project off the ground, didn't you?
TYLER: Yeah, and it was a real piece of work getting me here, too, wasn't it? That was major wheeling and dealing.
ANITA: You worked, all right, Dovey. (to Dovey, who is attaching something to the quilt) Say, those are pretty. What are they?
DOVEY: Some of Robbie's earrings. I thought they'd be nice worked in but there was only one of each. Where do guys go to buy one earring?
TYLER: You can buy singles at the mall. But some people get a pair, then give one to somebody else. Like a girlfriend, or a boyfriend, or a friend friend...
DOVEY: I see. Well bless his heart, I'm sure Robbie didn't get sick sharing earrings, either. I just wish I knew who was wearing the other half of the collection. I never could get him to talk about himself very much. He was so private, that boy.
GWEN: Tell me a little more about him, Dovey. I wish I'd known him better.
DOVEY: Me too. But he was pretty sick by the time you and I met. What wonderful quality would you like to hear about first? His looks? His brains?
GWEN: Just talk about him. Say whatever comes into your head.
DOVEY: (is silent for a moment, then begins to speak) Okay... Robbie. His name was really Robert Ronald -- after my husband -- but he went by Robert R. I always called him Robbie, and I think his friends mostly called him Rob. His stone has his full name on it, though. Not like mine. And the date. No saying, though. I hate that poem stuff on headstones. It sounds like bad greeting cards.
When he died, I remember hearing the television down the hall. The weather report was on. I remember that. We got lucky the day of his funeral, too. It was beautiful outside, and the ground wasn't too bad underfoot at the cemetery.
I'm glad it was spring when we buried him, and I'm glad his father was already there waiting for him. I don't think I could have stood it if I'd had to leave him there alone that first night. He never did like sleeping by himself. Afraid of the dark, I guess. That's what made it so hard when he went blind and all.
Somehow, I don't know why -- but I felt he was safer with Ronald there. You know, he always was. Maybe that's why things happened the way they did. His daddy dying when Robbie was still such a kid. Maybe Robbie felt like his dad had let him down.
At any rate, that day at the cemetery I just pretended I was tucking him in one more time. Saying "sleep tight" to my baby. You know, the way I did when he was little. It made it easier.
He was just taking a nice long nap with his daddy. Just the two of them. I had to think like that, or I couldn't have done it.
And all the relatives were watching me, anyway. To see if I'd hold up. And, to see if I'd explain how Robbie got sick. They all wanted the dirt dished. At a funeral! Can you believe it?
What makes people act like that?
GWEN: Not people, Dovey. Relatives. There's a difference.
How old was he when his father died?
DOVEY: About sixteen. He was the youngest, you know. His sister was on her own, so it didn't hit her as hard. But then, nothing seems to get to her the way things did Robbie. He took everything right to heart.
TYLER: Where are they buried? Robbie and your husband.
DOVEY: Oh, I took them both home. Wisconsin, where there's still family. Or what's left of family. Most of our people are gone already. At least the ones I always liked. Seems like the mean ones go on and on.
TYLER: Yeah, that's why I tell Mom she'll live forever.
ANITA: Maybe it will just seem like forever.
GWEN: (returning to the topic) So Robbie had a hard time with his father's death?
DOVEY: We both did. Although in some ways I think his grief was deeper. I had things to do. For one thing, I had him to take care of, and I couldn't just lie down and quit. But Robbie, what's a kid like him got to do? He paced around the house so much at night that I finally put a television in his room. Just to give him some noise for company. You know what I mean?
GWEN: Sure I do. I'm single. I know exactly what you mean.
DOVEY: Well, Robbie finally came around, but he never quit being the one left out. You know, the kid on the side watching everybody else play ball. When he got to high school, he threw himself into his studies. His grades were wonderful, but he knew that if he wanted college, he had to get a scholarship. I couldn't do too much for him financially.
TYLER: Did he go to college?
DOVEY: Sure. And graduate school. And law school. And so forth. He loved the whole student thing, and I kept saying to him, "Robbie, maybe you need to spend some time with girls. Books don't talk."
GWEN: What would he say?
DOVEY: He'd embarrass me and say something like, "Don't worry, Mom. I like the stuff under these covers."
So I quit bugging him about going out. I could take a hint. Besides, he was so responsible that I felt guilty criticizing him about anything.
GWEN: I wish my mother would take a hint. She keeps saying, "It's terrible to grow old alone." I finally asked her how it was to grow old with company -- meaning my dad -- and she didn't have much to say.
ANITA: Have you ever thought about getting married?
GWEN: More than thought about it. I've come close. But it just didn't work out. So I bought a couch.
ANITA: A couch?
GWEN: A couch. It was the symbol of my singleness, that couch. I was no longer waiting for a husband to tell me how to decorate my apartment. And you know what else?
ANITA: What?
GWEN: That was so long ago, I've had to have it recovered. So I've picked out upholstery twice. And I've gotten three cars on my own, and two cats. Now I'm even looking at houses on the week-ends. More room for the cats, you know.
TYLER: What if you fall for a guy who doesn't like cats?
GWEN: I'll make sure Mr. Wonderful likes cats before I bring him home. Or, he can wait it out. My cats are already ten years old.
TYLER: Cats can live for twenty years.
GWEN: If he loves me, he'll wait. Or get used to the cats.
ANITA: What would you want in a husband? Really.
GWEN: Really? A pacemaker.
ANITA: I'm serious here.
GWEN: Me too.
Okay, let me think a minute about Mr. Wonderful. (she takes a couple of jabbing stitches, then continues to speak) He would have to be able to get along with my family, but he couldn't take their side against me at Thanksgiving dinner. And he wouldn't leave toenail clippings on the tile. And if he ever used one of those things to trim nose hairs, he'd keep it hidden and never let me see him use it. And, most important of all, he wouldn't watch me put on a bathing suit. Or bleach my mustache. And I mean never.
TYLER: Mom yanks hers off with that wax stuff.
DOVEY: If he loved you, the bathing suit wouldn't matter.
GWEN: It would matter to me. I'm not the type who would ever go spread-eagle in the delivery room while Mr. Wonderful shoots videos, either. There are some things I want just between me and a few paid professionals. The way it looks, though, most things are going to be just between me and God. I'm stocking up on frozen dinners for one.
DOVEY: Being alone isn't the end of the world. I've gotten used to it. So anybody can.
GWEN: It's not being alone that scares me, Dovey. It's not being alone.
DOVEY: What do you mean?
GWEN: I'm the only one not married. So, if my dad goes before my mother, guess who will be elected to take care of Mom.
DOVEY: What about the rest of the family?
GWEN: Like I said, I'm the only one not married. They all have built in excuses. Like kids and college. No guest room, all that stuff.
DOVEY: Do you and your mother get along?
GWEN: She thinks we do. But I live five hundred miles away, so it's easy to get along. I live far away for a reason, I might add.
DOVEY: (thoughtfully) Sort of like Linda. I bet she worries about the same thing.
GWEN: Your daughter?
DOVEY: My oldest.
GWEN: Are you close?
DOVEY: She's busy. We talk on the phone two or three times a month, though. But like I said, she's busy. She's been busy for years, come to think of it. Especially while Robbie was sick. She was as busy as hell.
ANITA: Gwen, couldn't you just say no to your mother if she makes you so crazy?
GWEN: Could you? And live with the guilt? I'd rather put up with Mom than all the guilt, but I'm dreading the whole thing.
TYLER: Get a job overseas.
GWEN: The thought had crossed my mind, believe me. But I'm not the soldier of fortune type.
ANITA: Tyler, I promise that when I am on my last legs, I won't come limping into your house.
TYLER: Thanks, Mom. It's okay with me if you limp. Just don't cook.
ANITA: There's one question I've been meaning to ask.
GWEN: Fire away.
ANITA: Are you supposed to wear pantyhose with underwear? I've never known.
GWEN: I always do. It's better than letting the damn things touch you. And it gives you something to hold onto when you pull them up.
ANITA: Sure. But I remember a garter letting go and slapping me like a slingshot. It left a welt and everything. Neither way is very good.
GWEN: Both ways were probably invented by men. You know what amazes me? The same woman who would take some poor guy's head off if he even looked like he was going to oppress her still gets up every morning and cracks open a pack of pantyhose. It makes no sense at all when you think about it.
ANITA: Men aren't as good at oppressing women as we are at doing it ourselves. We're experts.
DOVEY: Not me. I switched to socks. I'm old, I'm ugly. Who am I trying to impress?
TYLER: Hey, you shouldn't put yourself down that way. You never know who you might meet.
DOVEY: I'm not interested in anybody who'd be interested in me. If he's looking at me, then he's old and ugly too. And I've got enough of that all on my own -- just me and the mirror. I don't need it twice.
GWEN: Do you know what really bothers me lately?
DOVEY: What?
GWEN: Well, you know how they say a woman looks like her mother as she gets older?
DOVEY: Sure, that's the old story.
GWEN: Well, not me. I look like my dad in a bad wig. I stand there in my slip, and except for the tattoo and some of the chest hair, it's a match.
TYLER: You have a tattoo? Where?
GWEN: I don't. He does. On his shoulder. It's a little flag, I think.
ANITA: Tyler, do you wish I'd get married?
TYLER: You have. A few times.
ANITA: Okay, okay, you know what I mean. Do you wish we'd been the Brady Bunch?
TYLER: No, too many people. I always preferred Lassie's family. A mom, a dad, one kid, a rich dog.
ANITA: I did marry your father. At least I can say that.
TYLER: Yeah, you're such a traditionalist. You also married his best friend. Was that the something old or the something borrowed?
ANITA: Tyler, let's not go into that here, not now. There are still things I don't like to drag out in public.
TYLER: Like your wedding albums? You've had more sequels than Jaws.
ANITA: I've been married twice. A lot of women are married twice. It's not unusual. Especially these days.
TYLER: I know. I'm just giving you a hard time. I just sometimes wonder what things would have been like if we'd done the nuclear family bit.
ANITA: I think I can tell you. Life would have been rotten. At least for you.
TYLER: What do you mean? I get along with the guy okay.
ANITA: I'm not blaming you. It's just that I wanted something more for you than Texas.
DOVEY: Than Texas? What do you mean?
ANITA: Do you know why she's named Tyler? That's for Tyler, Texas where we honeymooned.
TYLER: I'm sure glad you didn't go to Nacogdoches...
ANITA: We named you Tyler and told people that's where you got started -- in Tyler.
TYLER: What should I be named -- Chevrolet?
ANITA: Twin Drive-Ins, actually.
TYLER: Nice going, Mom. Classy. I guess I'm lucky there aren't too of me, then, huh?
ANITA: No, I'm lucky. Anyhow, things were different, then, Tyler. Nice girls didn't get pregnant before they got married, and if you did, you hid it. We told people you were "early". Since you were so tiny, nobody asked really big questions. None I couldn't dodge, anyway.
TYLER: Dodge? I thought it was a Chevy. Anyway, glad I could help out.
GWEN: So how long were you married?
ANITA: To Jerry?
GWEN: Which one was Jerry?
TYLER: My father.
GWEN: Yes. Jerry.
ANITA: Not quite eight years. I think Tyler was in first grade when we split.
TYLER: It was the summer after first grade.
ANITA: Are you sure?
TYLER: Sure I'm sure. I was there. You and Jerkface kept sending me to the Diary Queen, remember?
ANITA: I don't remember that.
TYLER: Well, I do. You'd give me money, and send me to the corner. I'd sit there and look at those posters of Dennis the Menace with his mom and dad, everybody smiling and eating ice cream. Even Ruff the dog. And I'd be so pissed.
ANITA: God, I hate that word. Can't you say mad?
TYLER: I wasn't mad. I was pissed.
DOVEY: How'd Dennis the Menace get into this?
TYLER: Oh, those ads. Dairy Queen uses him in its pictures of sundaes and stuff. He's a mascot or something.
DOVEY: What's his dog named?
TYLER: Ruff. He's in the pictures, too. All smiles,
that dog. I'll bet he's got more bucks than Lassie.
ANITA: I still don't remember all of that.
TYLER: Trust me, Mom. Dad was gone and Randy started showing up. Then he'd be there for breakfast, too.
ANITA: Tyler, that's the point. Jerry was already gone. And Randy came by to see how we were. After all, we'd grown up together. We'd known each other all our lives.
TYLER: But maybe if he hadn't been hanging around, you'd have given Dad another chance.
ANITA: It wouldn't have mattered. He was already married again. He barely made it to the J.P. before that girl was sticking out to here. (makes gesture with hand in front of belly, to indicate pregnancy)
TYLER: You mean Rita.
ANITA: Rita. She trapped him good.
TYLER: Poor Dad. Deja vu!
ANITA: Believe it or not, I didn't trap him. We were in love. He was thrilled when he heard about you. There was never any question about what we'd do.
TYLER: I still think Randy was a jerkface.
ANITA: (stiffly) You're entitled to your opinion.
GWEN: How long were you married to Randy?
ANITA: A couple of years or so. It was a mistake. I rebounded.
GWEN: How so?
ANITA: I was lonely, and feeling dumped. And Randy said he cared. But, he couldn't leave the beer alone. And I was afraid for Tyler.
TYLER: Now don't start putting this all off on me again. I did my time at the Dairy Queen.
ANITA: I'm not putting anything on you. I'm just saying I got worried. And mad. I was real mad. And I didn't want you to have to put up with a drunk, along with everything else. I was mad.
TYLER: No, Mom. You were pissed.
ANITA: Whatever. At any rate, we got out of Texas after that, and here we are.
DOVEY: We were married almost thirty-five years.
GWEN: How old were you when you got married?
DOVEY: Eighteen. At least, I was. He was older -- nineteen.
GWEN: How'd you meet?
DOVEY: At church. His brother Earl and my brother Bertie were friends. We sat together at a supper one night -- all of us did -- and Ronald and I hit it off. We laughed and laughed, and I thought he was the handsomest thing. I flirted like crazy. We didn't get married for a couple of years, though.
TYLER: How come?
DOVEY: I wanted to finish school. I was doing pretty well, and I just wanted to finish.
TYLER: Nobody'd better ever give me a good excuse to quit. I'll be smoke.
ANITA: No kidding you'll be smoke. School is important.Unless you want to smell like drumsticks the rest of your life.
DOVEY: Tyler, school is a way to protect yourself.
TYLER: How so?
DOVEY: The more you know, the less you'll be fooled.
TYLER: Fooled by what?
DOVEY: By people, by life. Maybe by yourself. Maybe if I'd had more education, I could have helped Robbie better.
GWEN: How so, Dovey? You've been great about everything.
DOVEY: No, I mean before he got sick. If I'd known more, maybe I could have kept him from getting into trouble. I'd have known what to say to him.
ANITA: Robbie was never in trouble a day of his life.
DOVEY: Robbie was in trouble every day of his life.
ANITA: What do you mean?
DOVEY: He was alone. Different. And he couldn't tell me about it. So I never knew how hurt he was.
ANITA: What about his father?
DOVEY: What about him? My Ronald was a good man, a real good man, but there was a lot he didn't see. As long as Robbie's grades were good and he wasn't getting mixed up in anything, his dad thought things were fine. And Robbie ran track, so he was a regular guy. You know what I mean?
ANITA: So Ronald never knew?
DOVEY: He must have, but he didn't say a word. And Robbie never really told me officially. We just sort of picked up the conversation one day, and spoke all around things from then on. By the time I was ready to talk about it, he couldn't say it.
GWEN: What about when he got sick?
DOVEY: Then we said AIDS. We never said gay. At that point, I guess I figured it didn't matter. I just knew my baby was sick. And he didn't need any more stress right then.
ANITA: Maybe he wasn't gay, Dovey.
TYLER: Give me a break, Mom. He wasn't a junkie was he? Or a hemo-whatever.
DOVEY: Hemophiliac. Of course not. He wouldn't even use NutraSweet, and until he got sick, he was never sick a day. Not a day.
TYLER: Well, there.
ANITA: Tyler, he could have gotten a bad dentist. You don't know.
DOVEY: Anita, it doesn't matter. And I do know. He got sick, we helped him all he could, and after awhile he died. That's all I know for sure. Except that now we're working on this quilt.
GWEN: I think it was wonderful for you to start a quilt project, Dovey.
DOVEY: Well, Robbie and I watched a lot of TV the last year and a half, and there were a couple of shows on PBS about the big AIDS quilt. We also watched something that told about it covering a huge football field. Robbie thought it was great, all those people getting together like that.
TYLER: So when did you get going on this one?
DOVEY: The month after he died, I had to get busy. I mean, I had been so busy for so long taking care of Ronald, then Robbie, and now all of a sudden I was free. Too free. I didn't have anything to make me want to get up any more. So, I started cleaning.
ANITA: My mom did that. She mopped floors when she was upset. After a big crisis, you could see your face in the linoleum.
DOVEY: I clean closets. The Salvation Army loves my mood swings. Anyway, when I got to my scrap box, the one where I keep my sewing junk, I thought about the AIDS quilt. So I talked to Gwen, she talked to you, and here we are.
GWEN: I like doing things like this. It keeps me from putting my head in the refrigerator.
DOVEY: It keeps me from putting mine in the oven.
TYLER: You've got an electric oven, Dovey.
DOVEY: You're right. I guess I'll have to stay.
GWEN: Please do. I've gotten very used to being here on Thursdays, talking a blue streak.
TYLER: (shaking her hand) I'm bleeding a red streak. You guys sure have a weird idea of how to have a good time.
DOVEY: What would you rather do, Tyler?
TYLER: Go to the mall. Even a bookstore!
ANITA: What's so great about the mall?
TYLER: If you have to ask, then you really do need to get out more.
DOVEY: I'd be up for a movie sometime. Is there anything worth seeing?
ANITA: Probably not, but let's go anyway. I remember we went to a movie and Tyler ate two boxes of Milk Duds and peed her pants.
TYLER: Not exactly last week, Mom.
ANITA: Well, it certainly put me off Disney for awhile. He scared you to death. And I paid money for him to do it.
DOVEY: I can't stand that old man. His movies always upset Robbie. You'd be laughing away, thinking how cute the little deer was then BLAM -- they shoot his mother. And that cat in Cinderella after the mouse. Robbie screamed his lungs out.
ANITA: Maybe Walt got his jollies that way. Making kids cry.
GWEN: What's Disney doing now? Bunnies and chain saws?
TYLER: God Gwen, I'm sorry. Didn't you know?
GWEN: Know what?
TYLER: Walt's dead. The Mouseketeers are still wearing black.
ANITA: Underwear, maybe.
GWEN: No, ears. The ears were always black, weren't they?
ANITA: Probably. All we had was a black and white television. Everything was two colors.
TYLER: Black and white aren't colors. Technically, I mean.
ANITA: How about black and blue?
TYLER: One is.
TYLER: (shaking her finger briskly) I'm bleeding, and nobody cares.
GWEN: We care. Now keep sewing.
DOVEY: It's tough to see your kid in pain.
TYLER: I'm in pain.
DOVEY: I mean big stuff. Not pin sticks.
ANITA: I know what you mean. When Tyler used to get ear infections, I felt so helpless. She'd hold her little head, and the tears would just roll down her face. I wanted to die. I hated being a parent then.
TYLER: It's not like I was doing it on purpose, Mom.
ANITA: That's not what I mean. I hated being so powerless. I couldn't do much but shove that pink medicine down your throat, and hope that you felt better fast.
DOVEY: One time when Robbie was real little and learning to use the big toilet, he slammed the lid on himself.
GWEN: On what?
DOVEY: Right on his winkie.
TYLER: On his what?
DOVEY: On his winkie. His thing.
ANITA: His penis, Tyler.
TYLER: Oh. God.
DOVEY: That poor baby, he was just miserable. It got all black like an olive, and the doctor said put ice on it. So, I'd try, but Robbie, he didn't want any of that. He'd just fight me when I came with the pack. He didn't want to be touched, and who could blame him?
ANITA: What did you do?
DOVEY: Took the toilet lid off, for one thing.
ANITA: No, I mean about Robbie.
DOVEY: Well, after a few days, he got better. But I don't think I'll ever forget how bad I felt. There he was, just trying to go peepee like his daddy, and wham -- down that lid came. I can still hear him screaming. I thought he'd been killed.
GWEN: I can imagine.
DOVEY: Ronald was so worried that maybe it wouldn't work. You know, when he got older. Sometimes I wish Ronald had been right.
ANITA: Dovey, don't think that way.
DOVEY: I do think that way. I just don't always say it. That's all.
GWEN: Why isn't your daughter helping on the quilt? Didn't you ask her?
DOVEY: I asked her. She said she can't sew. She also told all the neighbors that her brother died of cancer. Five or six of them even got together and made a contribution to the Cancer Society. They sent me a thank you letter.
GWEN: Who did?
DOVEY: The Cancer Society people.
GWEN: Well, maybe Linda couldn't handle it any other way.
DOVEY: I handled it. And who am I?
GWEN: Well, you were his mother, for one thing.
DOVEY: That doesn't make me a saint.
ANITA: It's good for openers. I thinking being a mother makes you tough.
DOVEY: Being a mother makes you old. Look at me. I used to worry about my figure. Now I just worry.
ANITA: You do fine.
TYLER: So do you.
ANITA: Thanks.
TYLER: You're welcome.
DOVEY: (Putting down her work, and stretching. She is obviously tired.) Well, ladies, I think I'm about done here. My back won't take any more tonight.
TYLER: My fingers won't take any more. I look like I tried to stick my hand down the garbage disposal.
ANITA: Stay in school, dear. There is no future for you in the domestic arts.
GWEN: Speaking of such things, I'm hungry. Shall we go somewhere and grab a bite to eat?
DOVEY: How about my house?
TYLER: We're at your house.
DOVEY: Then I bet we can get a seat. But the service may be slow.
TYLER: We have seats. We need food.
ANITA: We can order food.
TYLER: Trust her. She knows.
GWEN: Great idea. Any preference?
TYLER: No chicken.
ANITA: No Chinese.
GWEN: No Twinkies.
DOVEY: That leaves pizza.
GWEN: Can you eat pizza?
DOVEY: I'm old. I'm not dead.
ANITA: Then pizza it is. Let's get this piece folded up and put with the others.
TYLER: What others?
ANITA: There are lots of others. Dovey's found enough families in this area to put together a whole quilt. We're just one group.
TYLER: I thought we were it.
DOVEY: Nope. Afraid not. We could keep on sewing for years, if we wanted to and never run out of patchwork.
TYLER: Hell would be patchwork. At least for me.
DOVEY: It's had its moments for me, too. Like your mother said, stay in school. Learn it all, Tyler. Learn it all. Because even then it won't be enough. You'll still have a stack of questions.
GWEN: Maybe there'll be a cure soon. Look at all the things people used to die from.
DOVEY: Too late for Robbie. But yes, maybe we'll have to find another excuse to get together. Wouldn't that be great?
ANITA: There's always Tupperware.
TYLER: That's also hell, with lids.
DOVEY: How about poker? I've still got a jar of pennies. Ronald liked to play.
GWEN: I'll learn.
TYLER: Good, it's settled. First we find a cure for AIDS, then we get a poker group going. It's always good to have a goal.
ANITA: (as they all stand up, and gather their things together) Come on, let's call the pizza place. Tyler said she's buying. Maybe the delivery boy will be cute.
TYLER: Anybody for some chicken? I can probably get you a deal on some drumsticks. I know a great place at the mall...
[EXIT, carrying their chairs and talking.]
Copyright 2004 Jody Serey. All Rights Reserved.