California State University (CSU): Open Journal Systems

Burns, Mike

planting time 
late summer heat, damp and heavy 
blisters the leaves 
in a stand of eucalyptus 
and heat waves rise from the farmer's dirt road 
giant Caterpillar tractors 
crawl with malice 
across the fields of winter beans 
and Roma tomatoes 
pushing, with great belches of smoke 
soot black against the sky, 
their engines snarl at the hillside 
relentless pushing pushing 
rich, fertile soil 
warm as it sifts through fingers 
fields of grain, delicate legumes 
turned end for· end 
buried beneath concrete and steel 
of another factory, shopping center, house 
Mike Burns 
the indigestible houses sprouted from baby-boom seedlings 
the heat pulls back 
its heavy August quilt 
and the valley eases into the comfort 
of twilight; the naked wood-frame-skeletons 
stand like whispering shadows in the wind. 
54 


English

planting time

Wassmouth, Nadine

nadine wassmouth 
Ra i n  #1 
This time 
rain  is seventy tiny men 
pins for feet 
dancing  wi ld ly on my face and hands. 
54 


Rain #1

Harris, Mary

Mary Harris 1987 Rachel Sherwood prize winner 
Clan 
Parade of relatives files through 
the door like coins through a slot. 
Tupperware and Pyrex descend on tables ­
Chex party mix, 
onion dip and chips. 
Grandma, balding matriarch, 
skin fragile as tissue paper, 
issues orders from her armchair. 
She stashes insulin and needles 
next to homemade pickles in the refrigerator. 
Spinster aunt Mi ldren rolls in ;  
wheelchair gags on shag carpet. 
She gave up cigarettes after her leg 
was amputated twice last year. 
No one buys her slippers for Christmas. 
Grandpa shuffles in carrying Mil's fake leg 
upended like an unwrapped gift, 
props it in the corner, 
sits in a chair and naps upright, 
his hearing aid turned off. 
Cousins once banished to the station wagon 
for punishment 
now tower l ike statues 
Mike will graduate Notre Dame; 
Bob, a coke rehab center in Arizona. 
Five sisters on a sofa hip to hip 
slip chip to dip to lip. 
I choke on smoke and See's candy 
frozen gray and pick cashews 
out of the party mix. 
4 1  


Clan

Mark, Stephanie

Stephanie Mark 
Like Moss And Dandelions 
I hate makeup. All kinds, especially mascara. Waterproof 
mascara. I think it is useless and can't think of a single time in my 
life when I've wanted to look beautiful while crying. 
I have very few friends so today at Norman's request I had 
lunch with his partner 's wife, Suzette. Suzette and I could have 
become friends, we really could have, but then she laughed. She 
also wore mascara, which I might have been able to overlook, if 
only she didn't laugh. You see, there was nothing funny. I had 
made up a joke with no punch line, which I often do and told it over 
coffee and dessert. I remained silent and watched her lipstick 
crinkle as she giggled. 
"You really are quite the little comic," she tittered and 
dabbed at her eyes with a napkin. 
I sat up very straight in the booth and fixed my eyes on her 
lavender eyeshadow. "Perhaps Suzette, you might explain the 
joke?" 
I saw the lipstick tighten as she fumbled with her snakeskin 
wallet. "Check please, waiter." She overtipped. 
1 8  NORTHRIDGE REVIEW 
I know it wasn't fair but I have to protect myself. Lots of 
people are not what they seem to be and it could be dangerous. Like 
last week when I found out about my husband. 
It happened when my car ran out of gas. Now, I have 
sometimes wondered who in my life would help me if my car ran 
out of gas. I knew someone would help me if I was choking in a 
restaurant. They would have to. But who did I have in my life that 
would help me with just a stalled car? I had to know. 
"Sorry to keep you on hold Nordis, but I was with a 
patient," he tapped a pencil against the phone receiver. There was 
some static on the line. 
"Norman, I have run out of gas." I paused and so did he. 
I counted the number of taps until he spoke. Thirteen. 
"Jesus Nordis, I've got a full load today and Stein is out 
sick. Can't you call one of your girlfriends? There's a hysterical 
mother breathing down my neck. Both her children have chicken-
pox." 
"I have run out of gas." 
"Alright look, go shopping or something, and I'll try to 
pick you up later. Buy yourself a new dress for the convention." 
Tap, tap, tap. 
"I don 't need a new dress." Just then a truck whizzed by and 
two men leaned out the window and whistled. I pulled my 
turtleneck sweater higher on my neck. It now covered my chin. 
"Please Nordis,just go shopping and don't call back until 
at least six, okay sweetie?" 
I felt the phone booth grow smaller. I let my hand drop 
down and touch under my bra. It felt like the lump had increased 
in size. 
"Let me understand," I said, "you are not coming to help 
me?" It was a question but not really. There was a long silence 
without tapping during which I heard him nod. 
LIKE MOSS AND DANDELIONS 19 
"Just so I understand correctly," I said. The static cleared 
and we had a good connection. I heard him smile at his nurse. When 
I hung up I got my quarter back. I took a taxi home and as the cabbie 
prattled on, smiled to myself. Like a scientist who has suspected 
that saccharin causes cancer and has finally come up with the proof. 
That is how I smiled. 
I have a small child at home. I love to smell her hair after 
I have bathed her. It's like moss and dandelions. Norman has never 
commented on it, but it is nothing like the perfume he gave me la, · 
Valentine's Day. 
" It's Arpege. All the women are wearing it," he said and 
unwrapped the bottle for me. I found it curious that he had sniffed 
women's necks but never smelled his daughter's freshly sham­
pooed hair. But then, Katie has never had chicken-pox. 
I was about to thank him when the telephone collided with 
my reply. I answered it. It was his nurse. She has always called me 
Mrs. Spect but insists that I call her Barbie. 
" Here, talk to Barbara," I said and handed the phone to him 
delicately. 
" Honestly Nordis," he shook his head which caused his 
gold chain to rattle. 
I smile at this memory and try to hold the smile as I walk 
into the elevator of the office building. I am going up to the seventh 
floor. The elevator is crowded. 
On the third floor, the doors open and I glimpse a mother 
yanking her child by the arm down a hallway. " When I get you 
home ... " The elevator doors close. On the fifth floor, the doors 
slide open. A grey man using a walker scuttles toward the elevator 
with a hand held up. The doors close when he is three feet away. 
On the sixth floor, I lose half my smile and the doors do not open. 
I get out on the seventh floor in time to see a woman embrace a man 
and her mascara staining the shoulder of his white shirt. 
I walk into the office and print my name on the sign-in 
20 NORTHRIOOE REVIEW 
sheet. I have stopped signing my name ever since handwriting 
analysis became popular. Too risky. I print in even letters, Nordis 
Spect. 
I take a seat and stare at the framed pictures of eyes on the 
walls. They stare back at me. This reminds me of the box of raisins 
that has a picture on the front of a lady eating a box of raisins. And 
on that box, there is a picture of a lady eating a box of raisins. And 
on that box there is a picture of a lady eating a ... Someone has just 
called my name. I get up and follow the voice into the other room. 
"I cannot touch my eye. Oh sure, I can touch my eyelid or 
my eyebrow, but just thinking about touching my pupil makes me 
all squishy inside. You know, my stomach churns. Kind of a silent 
retch. It's been like that ever since I was about five. Once, I had 
an eyelash stuck for three hours ... " 
"That's just fme, Mrs. Spector. I'll have you wearing 
contacts in no time. It's easy, and it's fun. See you in one week." 
He winks, but not at me. 
''Thank you, doctor." My eyes water as I take the prescrip­
tion from him. I want to reach down and check on my lump, but I 
can't do that here. 
I walk through the pastel reception lobby. The reception­
ist wears a pink sweater and blots peach lipstick onto a napkin. She 
returns to her typewriter, unaware that she clashes with the room. 
"Bye now, Mrs. Spectrum." 
I squint in the bright sun and hold my breath as a diesel 
truck drives by. I wait for a safe count of twenty before I breathe 
again. There is the shopping to do. I must buy Saran Wrap and pick 
up the dry-cleaning. My stomach retches even though I am not 
thinking about my lump so instead I think about Norman who is the 
reason for my having to get contact lenses. 
Last night, the three of us were sitting on the couch. 
Norman, watching 60 Minutes, Katie on my lap, and me doing my 
UKE MOSS AND DANDELIONS 2 1  
three bear voices from Goldilocks. Except for the "Who's been 
eating my porridge?" part, which Katie likes to do herself. 
Norman turned to me during a commercial. "About my 
convention, do you think you could wear black?" 
"And who's been sleeping in my bed?" 
"Nordis. Listen to me. About your glasses, do you think 
you could go without them for that one night? I'm making a big 
speech and I want you to look good." He had started to sweat and 
when he moved his arm to punctuate his sentence, it stuck to the 
plastic covering. All our sofas are covered in plastic. 
I put down the book and looked at him. Katie tilted her 
head upward to see why I had stopped reading to her. I could smell 
her hair. I took my wire-rimmed glasses off and tried to focus on 
r�orman. 
"Mommy, what big eyes you have!" I squeezed her 
shoulders and squinted at Norman. He was blurry. 
"Get yourself some contacts, Nordis. And I'm certainly no 
expert, but I think you could use a little blush." I left the room then, 
because all the oxygen had been sucked out from the air. 
So now I stand here holding this contact lens pamphlet 
Norman is a doctor, I really should try to tell him about my lump. 
Tonight I will tell him. I try to think of a good opening sentence. 
But when tonight comes, I end up showing him. We are in 
bed and he says, "By the way, did you get your contacts?" 
"I went down today but it will take a week." 
"Good, " he reaches his arm over to pat me on the shoulder. 
I take it and think, either his hand is cold or I am very hot. I flinch 
when I move his hand to my breast. He balls his fingers up and pulls 
his hand away. I pull it back. We used to have this struggle when 
we were dating, only in reverse. 
'There is a lump, Norman." 
"What?" The hand is gone, the light is turned on and he 
seems very tall sitting up in bed like that. "Jesus, how long have you 
22 NORTHRIOOE REVIEW 
had this? Honey this is nothing for you to fool around with. You'll 
have to get it checked tomorrow. I'll send you to a specialist." His 
eyes are clouded, and he looks as if he has had a long day. He hugs 
me tightly. 
" I  mean it Nordis," he continues, " I  won't sleep a wink 
until you get this thing looked at." Ten minutes pass and I fall asleep 
to the sound of his snores. 
In the morning I get up early and dress. He comes into the 
kitchen, kisses me and reminds me to take his suit to the cleaners. 
He slips me a card with a name and address on it. 
" Is that a new dress you're wearing? It's pretty." He is out 
the door before I answer. It's a dress he gave me for my birthday 
two years ago. 
I hire a babysitter and pretend to leave, slamming the door 
loudly. I quietly sneak back inside to make sure this sitter really is 
qualified. But everything is okay and she is giving Katie a grilled 
cheese and a box of raisins. 
I drive down to the specialist's office. There is no elevator 
so I take the stairs. The specialist's secretary gives me a long form 
to fill out. She has long hair. 
I am led into the specialist's office. It has a lot of wood in 
it, including wood filing cabinets. Norman's office has metal. My 
lump feels like it may have gotten smaller. 
" Hello Mrs. Spect," the doctor walks in and sits down in an 
easy chair. He smiles fully at me and I'm able to return half of one. 
The other half quivers. 
" You can tell me if you're nervous." He leans forward in 
his chair. "Are you?" He's acting like I am his only patient. So 
much attention. I think for a while and then decide to go ahead and 
do it. 
"Dr. Feltman, would you like to hear a good joke?" 
He nods. There's a flicker in his eyes. Perhaps he wears 
contacts also. 
LIKE MOSS AND DANDELIONS 23 
"A man walks into a store and orders thirty dollars worth 
of groceries. The clerk says ' I'm sorry, but you'lljust have to wait 
your tum like everyone else! ' " I pause for effect, then chuckle and 
finally burst out in laughter. I feel a little dizzy. 
He is silent, thinking it over. His phone buzzes and he 
makes no move to answer it. " I'm sorry, I don't see anything 
funny." He looks unrested but his eyes are clear. He sighs a little 
and asks, " Is it me? Have I missed something? Why not tell it to 
me once more." 
I push my glasses firmly on my nose and am able to smile 
fully at him now. "Doctor, do you think that there's a chance that 
this lump might be just a lump?" 
As I listen to his detailed answer, I imagine him at home, 
tucking his small child into bed and leaning down to smell her hair. 
Like moss and dandelions. 


Like Moss and Dandelions

Leishman Etchison, James

James Leishman Etchison 
Electrolux 1500 
The babies cried, 
The salesman (apologized,) 
Momma rubbed her circle eyes, 
And Daddy grabbed the paddle 
When I, the only son 
Took the new green machine 
Outside, 
And sucked down the clouds, 
Sucked down the Moon. 


Electrolux 1500

Harris, Mary M.

Three Poems: "Swallows" "Two Wives on One Sofa" and "Balboa Island, 1961"

Coleman, Bobbie R.

bobbie r. coleman 
I nq u i ri ng M i nds Want 
To Know . . .  
UFOs have been sighted 
in Pittsburgh woman 
gives birth to 
psychic baby 
quotes d iet secrets 
of famous celebrities get 
drunk and find new 
planet orbiting around 
boy raised by pack 
of wolves bite man 
and give h i m  AIDS 
epidemic breaks out 
in Lourdes mystical water can 
prove the existence 
of l ife after dead 
mother gives 
birth to Siamese 
twins brain kept 
al ive for two 
weeks in large abdominal 
tumor turns out 
to be woman's twin 
Sister Rose guarantees 
answers to al l  questions 
about Virg in Mary 
appears at seven on 
Mondays and Fridays 
in Ft. Lauderdale 
parking lot! 
53 


Inquiring Minds Want To Know...

Hempel, Wes

wes hempel 
The Work 
My father walked under red and yellow banners flapping 
in the hoods he shined at Arrow Auto Sales 
across the street from the l iquor store 
back and forth he moved with rags 
in h is blue un iform 
I d rank grape ju ice and watched 
The Birdman of Alcatraz. I had a fever 
My mother took in laundry and mending in our neighborhood 
We advertised at the g rocery store 
tacked signs on telephone poles 
For underwear bi l ls at J .C. Penney 
the l iving room smelled l ike starch 
At the i roning board back and forth she moved 
around buttons and snaps, watching with me 
We didn't want it to so it ended 
At lu nchtime she made soup and my father came home 
I sat in the rocker leafing through the catalog 
I knew there wasn't anything in there for me 
Now it's twenty years and I'm stocking-holed 
downtown after leaving my shoes on the bus 
and stari ng at a pair of underwear in the g utter 
I'd l ike to say I 'm fond of curbs 
but I'd rather be alone 
If I were a woman I'd squeeze my breasts and say 
the n ight was dark, the n ight was blue 
around the corner a car flew 
a screech was heard, a yel l was heard 
a man got hit by a flying turd 
78 
When I close my eyes I see everyth ing 
sky shed of its blue jacket 
violet shoe pol ish black and shadows of b i rds 
My mother l ives in  a trai ler i n  Alabama now 
Moving through rooms with a crescent moon 
on her instep, she wears her scars on the outside 
I have a friend who can't take off h is pants 
He's afraid h is  legs wi l l  be gone 
I l i ke to see everythi ng. Sometimes 
I can never f ind my clothes 
79 


The Work

Stam, Wayne

wayne stam 
Was I Just Here? 
THE SETTING: A small, quiet, dimly lit den. A stereo is softly 
playing music suitable for lovemaking. There is a rocking chair in 
a corner of the room. There are a coffee table and two small end 
tables around a large, comfortable sofa. On the coffee table are 
two empty glasses, two album covers, and a few magazines. On 
the sofa are a MAN and a WOMAN, who appear to be in the early 
stages of what promises to be a very romantic evening. 
AT RISE: MAN and WOMAN are engaging in a very warm, tender 
kiss. They may emit some "yummy" sounds (but let's not get carried 
away). At some moment, when they choose to break, the dialogue 
may begin. 
WOMAN: 
MAN: 
WOMAN: 
MAN: 
WOMAN: 
MAN: 
WOMAN: 
MAN: 
WOMAN: 
MAN: 
WOMAN: 
Mmmmmmmm . . . .  
Was I j ust here? 
Huh? (PAUSE) What? 
Was I just here? 
(LAUGHS, PAUSES) Yes. I th ink that was you. 
(SHE KISSES HIM) 
That was wei rd! (HE SITS UP STRAIGHTER) 
I thought it was rather n ice! 
No, no. The kiss was n ice. But the moment 
was real ly strange. 
Should I be offended? 
No. No, not at al l .  It d idn 't have anyth ing to do 
with you. 
I should be offended. 
99 
MAN: 
WOMAN: 
MAN: 
WOMAN: 
MAN: 
WOMAN: 
MAN: 
WOMAN: 
No. Really. I just, uh,  it 's hard to explain. My 
mind was real ly  at peace-it's so n ice to be 
alone with you-1 was so comfortable that al l  
my defenses-my inh ib itions-had s l ipped 
away. The whole world was gone except for 
you and me. 
That's nice! I don't thi n k  that's so weird. 
That's not the weird part. . .  Sometimes when I 
feel at peace . . .  real ly at peace . . .  oh, I don't 
know, am I making any sense? 
I thi nk  I'm sti l l  back at "was I just here?" 
In that instant, just before I said that, d idn 't you 
notice anyth ing? Someth ing d ifferent about 
me? Maybe a long moment of noth ingness? 
(PAUSE) Yeah! Maybe when I perceived I was 
here, you cou ldn't! Didn't you notice anything? 
Wel l ,  let me see . . .  You know, your tongue sort 
of . . .  (SH E  THINKS BETTER OF CONTINUING) 
No. Noth ing u nusual. 
I don't mean that. (PAUSE) I ,  uh, guess you 
thi nk  I 'm just zon ing out on you. I 'm sorry. It's 
j ust that somehow, right now, in this moment, 
this fi n ite, ti ny piece of time, this seems so 
important. (HE WAITS FOR A REACTION, 
GETS NONE) I 'm not talk ing about a fleeting 
thought here. I mean, I 'm talking about me. 
The real me. The pure essence of me. I was 
just here, wasn't I? Really here. All here. (WAITS 
AGAIN, NO REACTION) Do you fol low any of 
this, or do you think  I 'm nuts? 
No, you're not nuts. I rea l ly don't have any 
idea what you're tal king about, but you're not 
nuts. You're probably just very tired, and as 
you say "at peace" . . .  That is a very strange 
and beautiful feeling. Sometimes I almost forget 
what it's l i ke to experience a tru ly peacefu l 
moment. (KISSES H I M  AGAIN. A LONG, GEN­
TLE KISS) Mmmmmm . . .  That's what I cal l  
1 00 
MAN: 
WOMAN: 
MAN: 
WOMAN: 
MAN: 
WOMAN: 
MAN: 
WOMAN: 
MAN: 
WOMAN: 
peace . . .  And I 'm sure you were just here. 
(AFTER A LONG M O M ENT OF NO RE­
SPONSE) Have you ever had an "out  of body 
experience?" 
(A BIT PERTURBED) Is this a d i rty joke? 
(OBLIVIOUS TO HER) I don't know much about 
them, but I th ink  this has something to do with 
them. 
D i rty jokes? 
No. Out of body experiences. Do you know 
what they are? (SH E  SHRUGS) Maybe you 've 
had one and you d idn 't real ize . . .  I 'm not even 
sure myself, but I think  it's the feel ing of watch­
ing your  own experience, even being able to 
leave it. Almost l i ke a non-participant. 
You mean l i ke mon itoring yourself-being 
overly self-conscious? 
No. No, that is just being self-conscious. Seeing 
your own actions, but from your own viewpoint. 
What I mean is . . .  wel l ,  feel ing l ike you, the 
real essence of you, your conscious mind,  
leaves your body and observes your, well, wha­
tever's left, from above-or from another view­
point. (PAUSE) I'm not sayi ng this very wel l ,  
am I?  
Now I 'm beg inn ing  to thi n k  you're nuts! (SH E  
LAUGHS AND KISSES HIM) No, actually, I think 
I have fel t  what you' re describing a few times. 
At least to some degree. 
It is d ist inctly d ifferent from just being self­
conscious, though.  It feels a l ittle l i ke "deja 
vu," on ly it's relative to the present. There's a 
defin ite sensation of detach m ent. 
Wel l ,  I th i n k  I know what you mean, but I th i n k  
you have t o  real ize that t h e  "real essence" 
1 01 
MAN: 
WOMAN: 
MAN: 
WOMAN: 
MAN: 
WOMAN: 
MAN: 
WOMAN: 
MAN: 
WOMAN: 
MAN: 
WOMAN: 
MAN: 
you're tal king about was real and really there 
before you sensed it. So where does "was I 
j ust here?" come in? 
Hmmmm. You've got me there. I th ink it's got 
something  to do with intensity. Or focus. Or 
density of self-perception.  
Density of self-perception? Listen to you! Since 
when are you so ph i losoph ical? 
Gee, I don't know. ls this ph i losophy? I'm really 
just trying to define . . .  to understand what I 
thin k  I just experienced. 
(MOCK-SERIOUSLY) Hmmm . . .  zou nds l ike 
vi lozophy to me. 
I guess so. Sartre? 
No. s'phi losophy! (SH E  KISSES H I M  AGAIN. 
HE STILL LOOKS LOST) Hey! Are you okay? 
(COMING BACK TO H E R) Oh. Yeah. Real ly. 
Yes, I 'm f ine. I just don't. . .  (HE REALIZES 
HOW LONG THIS HAS BEEN GOING ON. H E  
SMILES AND KISSES HER) You know, you're 
pretty terrific to put up with me. 
You're not bad yourself. 
No, I mean it. You 're real ly a very special lady. 
( H E  KISSES HER ON THE C HEEK) 
Gee whiz,  do you real ly mean it? (SH E  
LAUGHS AND HUGS H I M) Thanks. You're 
right. I am special. Has anyone ever told you, 
you have incredibly good taste in women? 
Yes, all my women tel l  me that. 
I see. Where do you keep "all you r  women"? 
Mostly, l "keep" them at the "Y." It's so m uch 
cheaper than th� Bonaventure. 
1 02 
WOMAN: 
MAN: 
WOMAN: 
MAN: 
WOMAN: 
MAN: 
WOMAN: 
MAN: 
WOMAN: 
MAN: 
WOMAN: 
Hmmmm . . .  Dom Perignon taste and a Ripple 
budget. And a ph i losopher, too. (DRAMATI­
CALLY) Come and let me kiss the three of 
you! (ANOTHER GENTLE KISS. HE BREAKS 
AWAY, GONE AGAIN.) Don't tell me. You were 
just here again .  
No. 
Then who was it this t ime? 
No, no. It  d idn 't happen agai n . l j ust can't get it 
off of my mind .  What happened before. 
I 'm beg inn ing  to th ink it's going to be on my 
mind for awhi le, too. 
I know what part of it is. You know how most 
of the time we just do th ings naturally. Our  l ife 
is planned. Preprogrammed. We almost au­
tomatically do what we have programmed our­
selves to do. We aren't real ly i nvolved. Every­
th ing is so, well .  . .  
I mpersonal? Unreal? Automatic? 
Yes! Everyth ing!  We're just machines. We pro­
gram ourselves when we wake up in the morn­
ing, and decisions we think we make are made 
along printed circu its in our  brains. We hardly 
partici pate . . . And . . . I th ink the reason we so 
rarely feel our own true essence is because 
we let it sleep a lmost all the time. 
I don't agree with that at all .  You make it sou nd 
l i ke we're al l  zombies b l i ndly fo l lowi ng some 
master plan. Personal ly, I th i n k  I do actively 
participate in my own l ife. For example, I th i n k  
I want to kiss you! (SHE KISSES H I M  SOM E­
WHAT ARROGANTLY) 
(BREAKING AWAY) Aha! Yes! But why did 
you kiss me just now? 
I take back what I said before about you not 
1 03 
MAN: 
WOMAN: 
MAN: 
WOMAN: 
MAN: 
WOMAN: 
MAN: 
WOMAN: 
MAN: 
WOMAN: 
being n uts. 
No, real ly. I th ink you kissed me just then be­
cause at this t ime of day, in  this setti ng,  at this 
moment in  our  relationsh ip, our interaction­
it's practically automatic. Now, if you kissed 
me whi le you were, let's say, performing brain 
su rgery-that would be more of a conscious, 
personal decision. 
I would kiss you a lot less often that way, that's 
for sure. M ight be fun "scrubbing up" for a 
kiss, though. (PAUSES) Come to th ink of it, 
though, that's an interesting visual picture. Are 
you the patient? If you are, then maybe you 
could leave your "patient" body, I cou ld leave 
my "surgeon" body, and we could meet some­
place. 
You're making fun of me. 
You ' re j ust such a fun kinda guy! 
Stop it !  (PAUSE) Look, I know I spoi led the 
mood, but-
Not yet, you haven't! (SHE STARTS TO KISS 
H I M  AGAIN) 
(STRUGGLING AWAY) M mmmmmm! (HE 
STANDS UP,  WALKS A FEW STEPS AWAY, 
WITH H IS HANDS FORMING A "T") Time out! 
Hold it just a second. Okay. Now, a few minutes 
ago, in th is room, you and I were alone. And 
then I d istinctly felt another entity in the room. 
Was it another "me?" 
(AFTER A SHORT PAUSE, AS IF  SHE'S 
AFRAID SHE'S OPENING A CAN OF WORMS) 
Maybe it was God? 
(THOUGHTFUL, BUT SKEPTICAL) Hmmmm, I 
suppose that's possible. 
If  it seemed l i ke it was you, maybe that has 
1 04 
MAN: 
WOMAN: 
MAN: 
WOMAN: 
MAN: 
WOMAN: 
MAN: 
WOMAN: 
MAN: 
WOMAN: 
MAN: 
someth ing to do with your bei ng created in 
the i mage and l ikeness of God. 
I real ly can't see God as being that short. Be­
sides, I don't th ink he'd pick this part icular 
image and likeness to emu late. (PAUSE) Al­
though,  it is some kind of i mage I can't qu ite 
grasp. It seems to d isappear as soon as I try to 
focus on it. The more I th ink  about it, the less 
clear it becomes. 
Now it really sounds l i ke ph i losophy! 
I 'm convi nced it's me. The part of me that l ived 
before my body and the part that w i l l  continue 
on forever. 
I'm sure there's a joke here somewhere, but I 
won't try it. 
My sou l. Or my essence. Maybe my conscious­
ness . . . .  
Maybe you r imagination . . .  
Yeah,  maybe it is  just my imag ination. But sti l l ,  
I th i nk  it's something more. (PAUSE) Why don't 
we get reee-el  comfortable again .  Maybe it' l l  
come back, whatever it is .  (TH EY BEGIN TO 
KISS AGAIN.  AFTER AWHI LE, HE BREAKS 
AWAY AGAI N) WAIT! STOP! DON'T GO! Who 
are you? What are you? (HE RISES) 
(TO "IT") And why are you picking on me? 
(TO MAN) Maybe it's the "essence" of my old 
boyfriend. 
It 's gone again .  (HE TURNS AND COMES 
BACK TO HER) Oh, I 'm sorry, honey. This must 
be frustrating for you. 
Wel l ,  it's not too frustrati ng,  but it does have 
me scared. 
Why? 
1 05 
WOMAN: 
MAN: 
WOMAN: 
MAN: 
WOMAN: 
MAN: 
WOMAN: 
MAN: 
WOMAN: 
You never cal led me "honey" before. I hate 
that! Cou ldn 't you cal l  me "baby", "gorgeous", 
"sweetheart", or even "toots?" 
Toots? Forget it. . .  Damn it, that's frustrati ng.  I 
j ust wish I could catch it, whatever "it" is, long 
enough to understand it .  I 'm sure if I could just 
figure it out, I could use this feel ing .  Like a 
tool .  But I j ust can't seem to hold onto the 
i mage. Maybe it's getting more accessible, 
though .  It never happened twice in one n ight 
before. 
Is this where you tel l  me I'm a great kisser? 
(PAUSE) Do you real ize I just had two g l impses 
of me. Or the spirit of me. Or maybe rea l ly  a 
look at God. 
Don't make any deals with visions of God. I 
saw Love and Death. " Ivan, what happened?" 
" I  got screwed!" Besides, how can it be God? 
I thought you said you felt l i ke you watched 
through "it's" eyes. I'm confused again. 
Me, too. I guess maybe I ' l l  never understand 
what this is all about. Or maybe one day it' l l  a l l  
j ust c l ick into place and I ' l l  j ust know. 
(SI NGING) " I ' l l  know when my love comes 
along. I ' l l  know there and then. I ' l l  know-" 
Al l  right. All rig ht. I ' l l  stop. (SH E  LOOKS SKEP­
TICAL) Real l y. Here. I ' l l  prove it to you. (HE 
G RABS HER AND KISSES H ER. SHE MAKES 
A YUMMY SOUND O R  TWO, AND THEY RE­
SUME KISSING. THIS TI M E  WHEN THEY 
STOP, SHE HAS A DAZED EXPRESSION ON 
HER FACE. SHE HOLDS IT FOR AT LEAST 
TEN SECONDS) Babe? Are you okay? . . .  Gor­
geous? . . .  Sweetheart? . . .  Toots? . . .  {STILL 
NO RESPONSE) Here goes . . .  HONEY? 
What a bizarre n ight! 
106 
MAN: 
WOMAN: 
MAN: 
WO MAN: 
MAN: 
WOMAN: 
MAN: 
WOMAN: 
MAN: 
WOMAN: 
I know. I'm sorry. Come on, let me make it up 
to you. (HE STARTS TO KISS HER) 
No, wait a m inute. Just now, I felt someth ing 
rea l ly  pecu l iar. 
Oh my God! It's an epidemic! (HE LOOKS AT 
TH E EM PTY GLASSES ON THE COFFEE 
TABLE) Maybe we got a bad batch of  Seven ­
up. 
No! This was real . I th i n k. No! I 'm sure th is was 
not a hal l uci nation and it was not my imag i ­
nation. I know that I left my body, l i ke you said. 
Cute. I get it .  Show me how stupid I looked. 
Okay. I get your message. 
No! I 'm serious! I real ly felt. . .  removed . . .  
separate. I watched us kiss. Like a non-par­
ticipant. 
Oh, you partic ipated a l l  r ight. 
I don't th i n k  I can describe it. I felt l i ke I was the 
eye of a camera in a tiny Goodyear b l i mp, 
floating around the room, seeing everything.  
It was l ike I was watch ing a f i lm.  I don't know if  
I 'd describe th is the same way you described 
what you felt, but I. . .  maybe it wasn't even the 
same th ing.  But it was real .  My mind,  or some­
th ing,  was real ly separate from my body. 
Are you sure you 're not just i magin ing things? 
We have tal ked about this far too long, and, of 
course, we're very tired, and . . .  
Wait a m in ute! Don't make th is seem l i ke no­
thing. It's very important. If we could understand 
it, it might be the most important thing that's 
ever happened to us! Like you said before, 
maybe the rest of our t ime is spent on unreal, 
un important th ings. I know something about 
this experience is more real ,  more important 
than . . .  (SH E TRAILS OFF) 
1 07 
MAN: 
WOMAN: 
MAN: 
Al l  right. All r ight. Don't get upset. I understand. 
Believe me, I understand. Look, I know it's 
important, but we're not getting anywhere. 
You're right. For once. I guess maybe we' l l  
never know, or understand . . .  And the more I 
th i nk  about it, the more confused I get. 
Me too. Let's think about something else. (THEY 
START TO KISS AGAI N.  TH EY ARE IN EX­
ACTLY TH E SAM E  POSITION AS IN  THE OP­
ENING.  AFTER AWHILE, COM PARABLE TO 
THE OPENING, VOICES CAN BE HEARD BY 
THE AUDIENCE, BUT NOT BY MAN AND 
WOMAN. TH EY ARE THEIR OWN VOICES) 
WOMAN'S VOICE: Look at that! 
MAN'S VOICE: Yeah . . .  
WOMAN'S VOICE: Huh !  Physical man ifestations of spi ritual and 
emotional bonds. 
MAN'S VOICE: It 's kiss ing.  
WOMAN'S VOICE:  Shal l we break it up? 
MAN'S VOICE: Again? No. That would be cruel .  Besides, he 
almost recog nized me the last ti me. 
WOMAN'S VOICE: Don't they look cute? Are they really just ashes? 
MAN'S VOICE: Dust. 
WOMAN'S VOICE: I thought it was ashes. 
MAN'S VOICE: They do seem almost real don't they? 
WOMAN'S VOICE: What do you mean by "real"? 
MAN'S VOICE: I 'm not su re. Never mind .  
WOMAN'S VOICE: Look at  that! 
MAN'S VOICE: Yeah . . .  
1 08 
-
WOMAN'S VOICE: Should we follow thei r  lead? 
MAN'S VOI C E: I thought you'd never ask! 
(MAN AND WOMAN HAVE CONTIN U ED THEIR ACTIVITY, OB­
LIVIOUS TO THE VOICES. THER E  ARE NOW TWO SETS OF 
yUMMY SOUNDS AS THE LIGHTS FADE TO O U R  PERCEPTION 
OF BLACK) 
CU RTAIN 
109 


Was I Just Here?

Mary Harris 
junk Mail 
Ed McMahon swears I may already be a winner. 
"Sabrina" is looking for a swinging couple, 
encloses her photo and asks for stamps. 
The hospital claims Randy owes them $419 
for treating the black eye, cuts he got in a fight 
on leave from the Navy. 
Another rejection notice. 
A one�dollar rebate check for buying Mother's Cookies. 
The black Jets t�shirt I ordered for George 
after I accidentally bleached his. 
A pile of advertising mailers and flyers. 
"Have you seen me?" Missing Children pleas. 
Reader's Digest, Golf Digest, Bon Appetit. 
The new Spiegel catalog, thick and glossy. 
Charge card statements from Sears and Saks. 
An urgent report from the school nurse dated one 
month ago; 
George has severe hearing loss in both ears. 
Another invitation to a party at McDonald's. 
A letter from my mother�in�law who drinks tomato beer 
all day, 
then writes to me because her son hangs up when she 
calls. 
A wedding invitation from John the Bachelor 
who was once married in a mock ceremony 
in a motel shower during a live broadcast 
by Sweet Dick, the disc jockey. 
No joke this time. Send bath towels. 
A chain letter threatens I will suffer 
grave consequen.ces if I break the chain. 
And I do. 
43 


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