Sketch: Organ Transport

Part 1

We are in the desert, hot and still. Off in the distance there is a white shape. It could be vapors, it could be a mirage, it could be a white van. We go in closer. It’s a white van. On the side is a stenciled sign: Medical Transport.

There are two guys in the van; one is large, the other is wiry, but they are brothers. The wiry guy slumps over, his head on the steering wheel. The large guy sits in the passenger seat with perfect posture. He has one hand spread on each leg. He appears to be holding his breath. And sweating. The wiry guy’s name is Kenneth. The large guy is Jake. Jake speaks first.

I think it’s dead.

No it’s not.

I think it is.

We’re in the middle of the desert.

I’m aware of that Kenneth.

We would not be sitting in a dead car in the middle of the desert.

(Jake eyes him)

I’ll just try it again. (He tries it. Nothing. Just a click.) In a minute. I’ll just wait a minute. Give it some goddam time. Shit.

(Jake reaches down for a roll of paper-towels between his feet. This is not easy for a large person in a small car. He tears off a sheet and folds it neatly into quarters. He wipes the sweat off his face. He takes a deep breath before he speaks) You took it to Jiffy Lube, right?

That has nothing to do with it.

But you took it there, right? Got all the fluids checked? Water? Oil? Transmission?

(Kenneth slams his hand on the wheel) Fuck! Goddammit. Shit. Motherfucker. (He lets himself out of the car and has a full on tantrum, kicking stones, screaming, swearing. He finally picks up a handful of sand and rocks and throws it up at the sky. It showers back down on him and the van).

(From inside the van, Jake picks up his cell phone. It is ridiculously small in his hands. He dials and listens. No reception. Kenneth gets in the car. Jake clicks the phone closed and then he speaks) Let me try.

Part 2

They are walking through the desert with back-packs. Jake speaks first.

I’ll give you $20 if you can come up with a four-syllable word.

(Kenneth thinks for about 300 yards) Mo-ther fuck-er—

--That isn’t profanity.

Shit.

And it has to come out naturally in the middle of the topic we are discussing. You can’t build a conversation around the word.

Shit.

It will never happen.

Let’s see the twenty.

Oh I have the twenty.

Let’s see it then.

You’ll see it when the time comes.

I know plenty of four syllable words.

Don’t think about it.

You’ll see.

Part 3

They are still in the desert. Still walking. Kenneth speaks first.

Why don’t you talk to Dad?

(Jake stares at him)

Because I mean, he might have something helpful to say. He’s a good listener.

What are you talking about?

(Kenneth thinks for 50 yards) I’m talking about Dad. About why you don’t talk to him all of a sudden.

I haven’t talked to him for 15 years.

Wait…what?

He means nothing to me. If he died tomorrow, I wouldn’t go to his funeral. I don’t like the guy. He was never in my life. He is nothing.

Ok, I get it… You’re pissed off about something.

Oh, I am.

So why don’t you voice yourself, Jake?

Because it won’t change anything. Our father is zero. A hurtful, self absorbed zero. He treated his children like stray animals.

(They walk 300 yards. Then Jake speaks)

Do you remember when you started stealing things?

When I was 11?

Yeah, then.

So?

What did you steal?

Um, let’s see, candy, Pringles—

--That’s not what I’m talking about.

Oh, so you’re asking me a question you already know the answer to?

(Jake looks at him) I’m trying to engage you Kenneth.

Engage me? Ha, ok, all right. I hear you. What did I steal? Ok. Ah, I stole some casettes, the neighbor’s drill bits, some ah, maybe-- I don’t know I wasn’t taking inventory.

Keep talking.

Wait, hold on. In-ven-tor-y. Ha four syllables. That’s four fucking syllables, Jake. You owe me twenty bucks.

I’ll pay you when we’re done with this conversation.

That’s not the rules, Jake. I wasn’t even trying. It just came right on out.

It was a surprise.

Yes it was. (Kenneth has a good chuckle to himself) That was good. Don’t think I won’t forget the 20.

I won’t forget either. (They walk) Keep going.

What’d I steal?

Yes, what’d you steal, but also, why’d you steal it. Then. Why’d you steal it then.

You mean the money?

Uh-huh.

Look I told you I’d pay you back.

I’m not worried about it Kenneth, I know you will. That’s not what I’m talking about.

I stole it because I just wanted to have it. I think I gave it away. Some of it.

Think about it.

Oh, here we go.

Tell me.

No you tell me, Mr. Know-it-all. I don’t know why I did it. I was eleven. I didn’t think about it. I don’t think about it now.

Don’t you think you should?

Why?

Don’t you think you should examine that? Don’t you think that you need to ask yourself about that year in your life? That if you look at that particular day in your childhood when you snuck into my room, opened the drawer of my dresser, pulled out all the mismatched socks and clip-on ties, found a roll of money in a green rubber band and said to yourself: this does not belong to me, it belongs to my brother, the one person in the world I am most related to, who has always stuck up for me no matter how I annoying I am, this is my brother’s who I love, who is my hero and friend and the guy who will fetch a ball 16 times when I can’t help but throw it over his head because no one else would ever pay any attention to me, this is my brother’s but I am still going to take this MONEY ROLL ANYWAY. Don’t you think if you look at that moment that you might figure out what put you on your path what got you here right at this moment in the MIDDLE OF NO WHERE—

You don’t look so good Jake.

THINK, THINK, THINK, Kenneth. What makes a person, even a sweet pale, eleven ear old idiot cross the LINE, KENNETH. Ask yourself. What could be so strong and furious inside yourself that nothing you learned or felt in your heart could stop you from doing wrong.

You’re really pale Jake.

You don’t have to be afraid.

I’m not. Shit.

You are innocent, Kenneth.

Quit it.

Everyone does something wrong once in their life. EVERYONE. And each time it’s because what they are really saying is something simple, but difficult.

Huh?

They are saying: help me.

You seriously look like you might pass out any second…Help me?

Yes.

That’s what I was saying?

When I was eleven?

Yes.

You think so? (Kenneth starts to laugh)

I do. Wait let’s stop for a minute. (Jake takes off his pack and squats) All you have to do is figure out why you were saying help me and then you’ll never do wrong again. You can get off this goddam path and I can get off the sideline watching it.

Well you’ve got this all figured out, Jake. I like that. I like that a lot. I like that you're on the sideline watching me. But seriously, you don't have to worry about me. I haven’t stolen anything since that time. (His voice trails off quietly. He stands in front of Jake trying to protect him a little from the blazing sun, but he is still thinking good and hard with his head down. All of a sudden his face lights up and he starts to giggle, then he whoops and hollers and jumps up and down) Hold on Jake, (he takes his pack off ) Hold the hell on a minute, (He unzips the pack and takes out a pair of Sunday shoes and some neatly folded clothes. He pulls out another small bag and unzips it. There are two bottles of water. He screams loud with his head thrown back, and then hands one to Jake) How about it? This is how I do. Yes. It. Is.(He holds out the bottle to make a toast.)

(Jake looks at him and can’t help smiling) Where did you get these?

From the nurses station in the ER.

Good thinking brother.

They click bottles.

I stole them. (He puts the lid back on the water bottle and starts repacking his bag) It’s my path, Jake. It just is.