31 Plays in 31 Days: #8 - "Earned a Little Something"

This play works better than it has any right to. It depicts a birth gone awry, a situation like the last piece's in that it is kind of tough to portray onstage. I think it gets away with it by coming into the story at the right moment, after the labor is done with, and by implying with lighting changes that they have moved from one room into another.

This is another bit of backstory from The Stand. This time it's non-spoilery, but it is sad, and dark, and creepy. It depicts the day that Amelia was to give birth to her and Sheriff Malcolm Royce's only child... only things do not go as planned. This was hard to write, and I ended up having to just force it out onto the page, so it's rough. But might be salvageable with editing, even given the difficult theatrical setup.

Day #8 - "Earned a Little Something"

(Lights up on the right side of the stage only. Sheriff MALCOLM ROYCE paces across the stage, casting worried glances stage left. There is an empty crib behind him.)

(SAMUEL HARRIS the town doctor comes out from the dark, disheveled and with the red face and shaky hands of a longtime alcoholic. He carries a swaddled bundle in his arms.)

MALCOLM: What’s happened?

SAMUEL: It’s bad, sir.

MALCOLM: I know that, that’s why I called you.

(MALCOLM notices the bundle.)

MALCOLM: Is that… is that the baby?

SAMUEL: Sheriff… she come out cold.

MALCOLM: You was supposed to fix this!

SAMUEL: She was already dead! Poor little thing…

MALCOLM: What about Amelia? Is she…

SAMUEL: Too much blood… can’t stop it coming.

MALCOLM: What did you do, you worthless gin-soaked fool!?

SAMUEL: Might be I am, but she was already too far gone.

MALCOLM: Couldn’t you pull yourself together just one night to do your damn job!?

SAMUEL: Weren’t nothing I could do!

MALCOLM: You bastard… get your hands off her.

(He snatches the bundled baby from SAMUEL’s hands.)

MALCOLM: Get out! Get going!

(SAMUEL stumbles out. When he is gone, MALCOLM peels back the blanket to look at her, and his face breaks.)

(Lights up stage left, revealing AMELIA in the bed. She stirs.)

AMELIA: Malcolm? Is that you?

(MALCOLM lays the little body in the crib.)

MALCOLM: Darling? Oh, Jesus.

(He goes over to her.)

AMELIA: Where is she?

MALCOLM: She’s… in the cradle.

AMELIA: I didn’t… I didn’t get to see her.

MALCOLM: You didn’t?

AMELIA: Doc Harris… carried her off. She… she’s not crying. Malcolm, why ain’t she crying?

(MALCOLM says nothing. AMELIA begins to cry.)

AMELIA: She’s dead, isn’t she?

MALCOLM: I’ll kill that drunken wreck of a sawbones. I’ll drag him down Main Street behind my horse.

AMELIA: Stop it. He done nothing that nature hadn’t already done worse. Nothing can bring her back now…

MALCOLM: We’ll… we’ll have another, dear. We’ll have a houseful. Remember what we said? God thought we’d earned a little something.

AMELIA: Malcolm… you know there ain’t going to be any more.

MALCOLM: We can’t say that! We never thought we could have this one.

AMELIA: No, love. That’s it… that’s it for me.

(She pushes off her blanket, revealing sheets that are soaked through with blood.)

MALCOLM: Jesus Christ. Oh, honey… oh, no, honey.

AMELIA: Should have known, eh? Too old for birthing babies. Poor little girl… she had no chance with me… never even got to hold her…

MALCOLM: Ain’t your fault, honey, these things… things happen.

AMELIA: No matter now. I’ll be with her soon.

MALCOLM: No! No, don’t talk like that.

AMELIA: It’s too late, Malcolm. It’s real bad.

(He starts stroking her hair and face.)

MALCOLM: It’ll be all right. We’ll find you a real doctor, even if I have to ride all night.

AMELIA: Malcolm.

MALCOLM: Was a miracle we even made that baby. Why not have another miracle? It’ll be all right.

AMELIA: It ain’t all right, love. I never wanted to go like this… not with something hanging between us.

MALCOLM: Hanging between us? There ain’t nothing, darling.

AMELIA: I never meant to keep nothing from you. You’re the best man I know. Can’t leave things like this with you.

MALCOLM: You’re right with me, honey. You’re right with me.

AMELIA: I wanted to tell you, I just made a promise…

MALCOLM: What are you saying, dear?

AMELIA: Malcolm, I should have told you. Before now. But… you must promise me you can forgive.

MALCOLM: Tell me what, honey? Tell me what?

(AMELIA’s head drops back and her eyes flutter closed.)

MALCOLM: Amelia? What is it? Amelia!

(Her hands slip out of his. MALCOLM’s face contorts in pain, and he lays his head down on her chest in grief. After a moment, he rises. He smooths her hair and takes the clean blanket and lays it over her, concealing the blood. He regards her a moment in sorrow.)

MALCOLM: Thought we earned a little something.

(He then goes to the crib. He gathers up the body of their baby girl, and steeling himself, carries the small bundle out.)