Come Find Me Read online

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  COME FIND ME

  Copyright © 2020 by Erin Mallon. All rights reserved.

  www.erinmallon.com

  Cover Design by Najla Qamber

  Formatting by Nada Qamber

  CHARACTERS

  Tilly

  Henry’s daughter, 12-years-old

  Henry

  the new doctor

  Margot

  a patient

  Ilda

  a woman, nearly 80-years-old

  Susan

  Ilda’s daughter, 40-years-old

  TIME/SETTINGS

  Trenton Psychiatric Hospital in 1907

  Asbury Park in 1969

  SCENE ONE

  The sound of suitcases hitting the floor.

  Tilly and Henry take in the space.

  Tilly: This is my room?

  Henry: Yes.

  Tilly: It’s big.

  Henry: Plenty of room to run around, yes. You can explore in the morning.

  Tilly: Why is it so cold?

  Henry: Steam heat in this wing. It’ll warm up. In the meantime, plenty of blankets on the bed.

  Tilly: Where’s your room?

  Henry: Just down the hall.

  Beat.

  Tilly: I don’t like this.

  Henry: Good, I’m glad you like it.

  Tilly: No Papa, I said I don’t like it.

  Henry: Oh, well nothing to be done about that. It’s late. I’ll see you at breakfast.

  He turns to leave.

  Tilly: Can you tuck me in?!

  Henry: Tilly. You’re twelve.

  Tilly: I know. It’s just that Mrs. Feiglstok has been tucking me in while you’ve been gone and turns out, it’s really nice.

  Silence.

  Henry: Quick, get yourself dressed.

  Tilly: (excited)

  You’re going to do it?!

  Henry: Quickly!

  Tilly quickly grabs a nightgown from her suitcase and dashes behind a dressing screen.

  Tilly: (as she dresses)

  So how has your first week been, Papa? Are you all settled in your new job? Are you glad I’m here now? The train ride was really exciting! I have to say though that New Jersey doesn’t look all that different from Virginia. Oh, I wrote a letter to Teddy Roosevelt while you were gone and thanked him for pardoning that bear. I’m so glad he’s our president, aren’t you? Such a kind man.

  Henry: You done?

  Tilly: Yes.

  Henry: Come on then. In the bed you go. Chop chop.

  She hops into her new bed. He makes a poor attempt to “tuck” her in.

  Tilly: I was thinking - can we make a growth chart for me on my new wall?

  Henry: A growth-

  Tilly: A growth chart! Mrs. Feiglstok told me she used to measure her children when they were small. She put little marks on the wall where the top of their heads were and wrote the date next to it. Did that every few months or so until they were grown.

  Henry: She wrote on the wall?

  Tilly: Yes!

  Henry: In ink?

  Tilly: I think so.

  Henry: Well that’s rather savage, isn’t it. No, we won’t be doing that.

  Tilly: Ok.

  She looks at her bed sheets.

  The tucking isn’t right.

  Henry: I’m a doctor, not a tucker.

  Tilly: When Mrs. Feigstok does it, she-

  Henry: Sounds like you enjoyed your week with Mrs. Feiglstok.

  Tilly: Oh I did!

  Henry: Perhaps I should write her about looking after you permanently back in Norfolk. Maybe a woman’s touch is what you-

  Tilly: No! No no, I want to be with you, Papa!

  Beat.

  Henry: Alright then.

  Tilly: What did Mama’s voice sound like?

  Henry: I don’t remember.

  Tilly: I had a dream about her last night. It felt so real. She told me to tell you that-

  Henry: Open.

  Tilly: What?

  Henry: Open your mouth.

  She opens. He presses on her teeth, one by one. She lets him.

  While he examines…

  Henry: Any feel loose?

  Tilly: No.

  Henry: Have you had a bowel movement today?

  Tilly: No.

  Henry: Well why in the world not?!?

  Tilly: I don’t – I just haven’t.

  Henry: That’s very important, Tilly. Very important! Make sure you do so first thing in the morning and then report back to me. Do you understand?

  Tilly: Yes, sir.

  He pulls a small bag of lemon wedges out of his pocket. He hands her one.

  Henry: Good. Bite your lemon.

  Tilly: Papa, why did the people in the hallway look so strange?

  Henry: They’re not well.

  Tilly: But you’re going to make them better?

  Henry: That’s right. Now bite.

  Tilly: Are they all women?

  Henry: Bite.

  Tilly: Yes Papa.

  She bites the lemon and tries to talk with it in her mouth.

  Tilly: Loooooaahhhmmahhhhsiiichussssmmmmaaaahhhh

  Henry: What?

  He takes the lemon wedge from her mouth.

  Tilly: I said look at my citrus smile!

  Henry: (a warning)

  I’m going to stand here...

  Tilly: I’m sorry, Papa.

  Beat.

  Henry: Do you want to grow up to be a healthy woman?

  Tilly: ...yes?

  Henry: Well then it’s time to be more serious. You’re not a child anymore.

  Tilly: I’m not?

  Silence.

  Henry: I worry about you, Tilly.

  Tilly: Why?

  Henry: (quick beat) When I tell you to do something that I know is good for you I need for you to do it. No questions. No silliness. Can you do that for me?

  Tilly: Yes, Papa. I can do that.

  Henry: Good girl. There’s a lantern on the bedside table. You have a private lavatory through that door on the left when you need it. Lights out.

  Tilly: But Papa-

  Henry: Lights out!

  The roo
m goes pitch black.

  The whoosh of the door closing and clank of a bolt locking.

  We hear Henry’s footsteps fading down the hall.

  Silence.

  From here, every sound seems a bit larger than life in the pitch dark.

  The hiss of the steam heat comes on.

  Tilly: (startling)

  Oh my-! (Quick beat.) Oh. It’s just the heater, the... Ok.

  The sound of Tilly’s breathing.

  Then...

  A Musical Voice (Margot):Come fiiiiiind meeeee.

  The sound of Tilly’s breathing increases.

  Tilly: Who was-? Papa??

  Breathing.

  A Musical Voice (Margot): Come fiiiiiind meeeee.

  Tilly:

  A creek in the wood floor.

  Tilly: What was-?

  Fingernails scratching the walls.

  Or are they scratching the floor?

  Tilly: Papa? Can you please?!-

  Sound of Tilly fumbling with the lantern.

  More creaking in the floor.

  Footsteps.

  Getting closer, faster, then....

  Silence.

  More breathing, but not Tilly’s this time.

  Tilly lights the lantern.

  A pale, sickly woman is revealed right next to Tilly’s face.

  Margot: DON’T YOU WANT TO PLAY HIDE AND SEEK?????

  Tilly:

  SCENE TWO

  The thunk of two suitcases to the floor.

  Susan: It’s freezing in here. Why is it so cold?

  Ilda: Well well well, the prodigal daughter returns. Did you see that gorgeous moon out there?

  Susan: “The prodigal-“ What are you talking about?

  Ilda: You know what I meant. Let me rephrase. “Here you are again after neglecting me for so long.”

  Susan: I saw you last week. And that’s not what prodigal means.

  Ilda: Oh no?

  Susan: No. It means... wasteful. Extravagant. Reckless.

  Ilda: But in the Bible...

  Susan: ... the prodigal son returns after spending all of his father’s money and gorging himself on booze and women. I’ve done no such things.

  Ilda: I know you don’t gorge on booze anymore, but on women perhaps? Oh, Suzie, tell me stories!

  Susan: Mother-

  Ilda: Come on, share with me! Free love! I’m thrilled you’ve been beaning!

  Susan: “Beaning”?

  Ilda: Lez-beaning. You told me you were a lez-bean now.

  Susan: Good lord. I only said that I-

  Ilda: Love your boots, Suzie-Q.

  Susan: Oh. Um. Thank you.

  Ilda: They’re those Stop-Stop boots everyone’s wearing these days, right?

  Susan: Go-go boots.

  Ilda: Don’t correct your mother.

  Susan: Fine.

  Beat.

  Ilda: Come. Come on in and get settled, sweetheart. Let’s have a tea party. Will you have a tea party with me?

  She leads her to a tea party, all set up on a blanket on the floor.

  Susan: Oh. You’re all set up. Were you expecting someone?

  Ilda: I’m always expecting someone.

  Beat.

  Susan: Ok...

  Ilda: You don’t mind do you?

  Susan: Sitting on the floor? I don’t love the idea, but-

  Ilda: Shhhh! I wasn’t talking to you, dear. (quick beat, like she’s listening) Uh-huh. Uh-huh. Okay, good. You don’t mind. (switching back to Susan) You know Susan, sitting cross- legged on the floor is fantastic for maintaining supple hips, but if that’s not a concern for you then fine, let’s move to the table.

  She pick up the teacups from the floor and hands one to Susan. They sit. (not to Susan)

  Cheers.

  Susan: ... Cheers.

  Ilda: Oh yes. To you too.

  They cheers. They sip.

  Susan: It’s freezing in here.

  Ilda: (pleased)

  I know.

  Beat.

  Susan: Are you ok?

  Ilda: Of course.

  Susan: So can I ask the obvious?

  Ilda: You always do.

  Susan: What the hell are you doing here???

  Ilda: This is my home.

  Susan: This was your summer home, but it’s been on the market for over a year now. It’s time to let it go.

  Ilda: I really dislike it when you tell me things I already know.

  Susan: This was your summer home, but it’s been on the market for over a year now. It’s time to let it go.

  Ilda: I really dislike it when you tell me things I already know.

  Susan: Your new home is at Cardinal Village…

  Ilda: Cardinal Village is not a home.

  Susan: …who apparently has been trying to contact me all weekend to tell me you stormed out of the place like a lunatic, then went missing for four days!

  Ilda: Oh, I did not storm! A lunatic?

  Susan: Yes. A lunatic.

  Ilda: I am not a –

  Susan: Mom, you frightened the other residents.

  Ilda: That’s what they said?

  Susan: Yes.

  Ilda: What a bunch of pansies.

  Susan: The staff says you talk to people who aren’t there.

  Ilda: We all do that! Tell me you never do that!

  Susan: I never do that.

  Ilda: Bullcrackers.

  Beat.

  Cardinal Village is an institution full of decrepit lifeless people waiting to die, while their captors hover over them with enemas and side dishes of butterscotch pudding! They’re not interested in seeing people living, only dying. I had to get out of there.

  Susan: Mom. It’s a vibrant retirement community with ice cream socials and shuffleboard wars on Wednesdays. You chose it yourself. And to my knowledge, no one has ever threatened you with an enema.

  Ilda: Well it was only a matter of time. Bullet dodged!

  Susan: They’ve asked you not to come back.

  Ilda: Pity.

  Susan: I’ve brought all your things. They’re refunding your deposit this week. Hope you’re happy.

  Ilda: I am, thank you.

  Silence as they sip their tea.

  Susan: This is terrible. What the hell am I drinking?

  Ilda: Prince of Peace Menopausal tea. I’m embracing the stage of life I’m in and syncing my cycle with the moon.

  Susan: (laughing)

  Your cycle? Mom, I hate to break it to you, but-

  Ilda: Yes my cycle!! Just because I no longer bleed doesn’t mean I’m no longer part of the cycle! I’m part of it! A big part of it! As big as you or any other woman!

  Susan: Ok! Can you calm down please? I’m sorry, I didn’t-

  Ilda: You think I need you to tell me that I no longer bleed?

  Susan: No, I-

  Ilda: I mean it Susan, when you tell me things I already know, it makes me want to hurt you.

  Susan: Mom!

  Ilda: Oh, I never would, you know that. But I do consider throwing things at you when you take that tone with me. I am not some old, frail woman. I am a strong woman. I raised you by myself. I raised myself by myself for that matter! I have stories. Volumes! Every person who has lived seven or more decades on this planet does. So when you “young people” look at us and talk to us like we’re sweet, doddy little innocent old people with no backbones or brains, we truly want to murder you.

  Silence.

  They sip their tea.

  Susan: Is it true you’ve been propositioning all the male residents for sex?

  Ilda: No.

  Susan: Good.

  Ilda: But I have bee
n making love to the man next door for the past four days.

  Susan spits out her tea.

  Susan: You have?

  Ilda: Every damn chance I get. We’ve had two rounds so far today. I was hoping for a third, but I’m afraid your arrival will throw us a bit of a sex wrench.

  Susan: Mr. Pappalardo? The man who used to set off fireworks on the beach for the kids every Fourth of July?

  Ilda: No he’s dead.

  Susan: Oh ok.

  Ilda: His son Jeremy however is very much alive.

  Susan: He’s... my age, isn’t he???

  Ilda: God no. Few years younger.

  Susan: Wow. Well. (Quick beat.) Good for you I suppose.

  Ilda: Thank you.

  Beat.

  For the record, I wasn’t “propositioning” all of the male residents. I was simply offering several of the gentlemen the great gift of my coital companionship.

  Susan: Most of those men are married. I think that was the main complaint.

  Ilda: Hm. Well. (Quick beat.) How’s the divorce going? Are you loving it? I’m so proud of you.

  Susan: You’re changing the subject.

  Ilda: Yes.

  Beat.

  Susan: I don’t think I’ve ever met someone who’s “loved” their divorce. But I’m doing alright, thank you.

  Ilda: Thankfully your father died before we had to go that route.

  Susan: Mom!

  Ilda: What? He did me a great service in that regard. Freed me of his nonsense while sparing me the lawyer fees. God bless Thomas! “Tommy can you hear me? Can you feel me near you?” I love that new song. What’s that band called... “The When”?

  Susan: The Who.

  Ilda: Right. “See Me. Feel Me. Touch Me. Heal Me.”

  Silence.

  Susan: Dad was a good man. So was – is – Robert.

  Ilda: Never said they weren’t.

  Beat.

  But “good” men do bad things all the time.

  SCENE THREE

  Henry is in his lab coat, working over a table, a mask covering his nose and mouth. He doesn’t see Tilly approach.

  Tilly: You weren’t at breakfast Papa!

  Henry: (startled)

  Tilly! You can’t-! (quick beat) You’re supposed to be working on your lessons in your room.

  Tilly: I’m scared.

  Henry: Of what?

  Tilly: I don’t know.

  Beat.

  She smells the air.

  Why does it smell like...?

  She runs up to the table.

  Oh! What are you-?