A pleasant kitchen at precisely 8:04 in the AM.
Marjorie is in a pristine red polka dot housewives dress and she is at the kitchen sink, washing dishes.
Max sits at the kitchen table with his hands resting atop the place mat.
Max is very numb and seemingly unhappy... but more numb.
Max has gloves covering his hands.
The gloves have short little spikes all over them... sorta like the pointy end of a thumbtack.
They are both 38 years old.
Suddenly Mark comes skipping in.
Mark is their son.
Mark. MORNING MOM!
Marjorie. Oh! My little angel! How are you today, My little angel!
Mark. I'm just swell. I studied for my mathematics test today!
Marjorie. Oh? And how is my little Einstein gonna do?
Mark. Just Swell, Mom. Just Swell.
Marjorie. I would expect nothing less. Here is your lunch. It's a peanut butter sandwich and there is an apple in there too. OH! And here is a thermos of orange juice.
Mark. You are just the swelliest mom there is.
Marjorie. Oh! Angel.
(They kiss)
Marjorie. Now, say goodbye to your father.
Mark. (Lowered voice) Do I haveta?
Marjorie. What do you mean do you have to? You GET to. He's your father. Don't be ridiculous, son. Go on!
(Marjorie pushes her son over)
Mark. Hi, Dad.
(No response)
Mark. I'm going off to school.
(No response)
Mark. I have a test today. But don't worry. I studied real good for it.
(No response)
Mark. Billy's Dad was asking about ya the other day. Said he hasn't seen you around the plant lately. Been wondering where ya were. Started talking about how you're some dead beat that--
Marjorie. Mark!
(Mark stops)
Marjorie. Look at the time. You'll miss your bus. Go on. Scoot!
Mark. Bye Dad.
(Mark rushes out)
Marjorie dries off her hands and leans against the kitchen sink and looks at her husband. She goes over to a cabinet and retrieves a book. She begins to read aloud.
Marjorie. Day 180. Today is the day the gloves become more than just a habit. They become a lifestyle. To show your husband that touching his penis is wrong. To show your husband that touching other penis' is wrong. He is supposed to love you. He will love you. He was appointed by your creator to love you. Never think other wise. He is a good christian man. The gloves will stay on for good. For God. Just remember, Read to him a chapter a day from Exodus. You won't have your old husband back. But with all of his past actions... who WOULD want him back.
Marjorie closes the book.
She looks at it.
Throws it on the table.
She begins to pound it.
With choke behind it.
As if she is trying to push it through the table.
She stops.
She is spent.
She looks at her husbands hands.
She opens the books and takes Max's hands and begins ripping the pages out with his spiked gloves.
Max doesn't move. It's as if nothing is happening.
Soon, the book is a simple pile of shredded trash.
Marjorie steps back.
Looks at Max.
Approaches him slowly.
She reaches for his right wrist and SLOWLY begins to take off the right glove.
She places it in the cabinet.
She reaches for his left wrist and SLOWLY begins to take off the left glove.
She places it in the cabinet.
She gently takes Max's hands and places them on top one another on the table.
She steps back.
Marjorie. Touch me.
(No response)
Marjorie. Please? I'm dying over here. I need to feel you again. I need to feel your warmth. I miss it. I forget what your hands felt like against my side. I think... I think... It was rough. But a good kinda rough. The kinda rough that felt good because it was someone else saying 'I'm right here with you, Marjorie, I'm right here'.
She looks at Max for something.
For anything.
She begins to quietly cry as Max remains motionless.
Most likely from the Shock therapy she put him through.
She cries.
Marjorie. I'm here here with you, Marjorie, I'm right here. I'm right here with you, Marjorie, I'm right here. I'm right here with you, Marjorie, I'm right here. I'm right here. I'm right here, Max. I'M RIGHT HERE!
Max slowly moves his head and looks at her.
She smiles through her tears.
For hope.
Marjorie. Touch me.
Lights fade as they are eye locked and marjorie holds out her hands and cries with a smile. As if one would with a lover who has been paralyzed for years and is now finally beginning to walk.
END
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