i Wish i Could Be On Time!

12 May 2004

I never saw another bumblebee
A play
By: London Kennedy

Stage: bare, five wooden stools
No lighting except spotlight, only black curtain for backdrop
Children ages 6-10 only, three girls, two boys, wearing raggedy clothing
Messy hair, only the clip-on type of microphones

Child one: (a boy)
Spotlight on him, he is sitting in a stool stage right

I never saw another bumble bee
Not like the ones my mommy would point out when we were at the park. Where the grass is the soft kind that tickles your bare knees and is the color of green leprechauns. The bumble bees fly about, and I wasn’t afraid when I was little. I thought they were fun to watch. There was one time when I got stung. My mommy picked me up and held me close to her chest; I can remember her heart beating so fast. But I wasn’t scared. I liked that she was holding me.
I still remember the very day when I began to become frightened by bumble bees. It was an Easter Sunday. We came out of church, my mommy and daddy and my older sister and me and we shook Father Paul’s hand we were leaving. I remember there was a bumble bee flying around his sweaty arms and he was swatting at it as the sun beamed into my eyes.
That night was the first time my mommy hit me. She was mad because I ate too much candy from the Easter Bunny before dinner. When I couldn’t eat the ham she had cooked all day with the pineapples, she got really, really mad. Usually she would just send me to my room without any supper, but for whatever reason, that day, she got really, really mad. She raised up her hand, it was closed in a fist, and hit my left ear so hard I couldn’t hear for a few minutes. I cried and cried but she still kept hitting me. I don’t remember what my daddy or my older sister was doing. All I saw was her hand. Over and over again. My ear began to bleed, and I kept trying not to cry, but it hurt so bad. I curled up into a ball, like I do when I am scared at night in my bed, but she still kept hitting me.
The next day, she said she was sorry. We went to the park but the grass was itchy and brown. The bumble bees turned into these fierce monsters like the kind that hide under my bed at night.
I never saw another bumble bee…

Lights fade
A quiet voice begins to speak softly

Child two: (a girl)
Spotlight stage left

I never saw another bumble bee
They were always weird anyway. I remember once at Girl Scout camp the girl named Betsy got stung and she said it tickled. I didn’t believe her then, and I don’t believe her now. Another time I was at horse back riding camp, and a bumble bee stung my horse’s leg. The horse got sooo scared it began to run really, really fast. I thought it was kind of fun! My dad hates bumble bees. He says if he gets stung he has to go to the hospital and get a shot. He says he is allergic. I think it is odd for him to be allergic to a little bumble bee, but he swears on it.
For three years from the time I was three years old, (now I am eight) my dad would come to my room and pull down the covers and play with my tummy and tell me I was beautiful. I liked when he told me this. Then one time he touched me in my special spot. The spot that makes me different from my dad and I know this because I have seen his spot, and there is nothing special about it. I never told my mom because my dad said not to. But one time he hurt me really, really bad. He shoved his fingers into me and his fingernails scraped my skin.
After that, I slept with a bumblebee stuffed animal because I figured if he were allergic then bumble, that was my stuffed bumble bee’s name, would protect me. Turns out, my dad is only allergic to the living kind of bumble bees…
I never saw another bumble bee…

Quivering voice

Child three: (a girl)
Spotlight center stage

I never, never saw another bum…bum…bumble beeeee
My real dad died when I was a little girl. I don’t remember him. But I remember the man who replaced him. I called him dad too, even though I didn’t want to; but it made my mom happy, so I did. At first he was not-so-bad, he would take me and my three brothers fishing and we would have a good time. He liked when I would put the worm on the hook. He said that most little girls my age wouldn’t know how to do it properly. That made me feel extra special. One time, my baby brother Jake got real sick. We had to drive him home, but dad, my second dad that is, wanted to keep fishing, so he offered to take my two brothers and me back to the lake. But my brothers didn’t want to go without Jake, but I kinda did, so I went.
I hate him, I wanted him to die
He turned the boat over and I almost drowned! I hadn’t taken swimming lessons since the past summer, I felt like I was breathing in water instead of air. Dad rescued me and gave me mouth-to-mouth, but this wasn’t like on T.V. or anything, he swirled his tongue and stuck his thing in me. I hurt so bad and I was cold and I think I may have even wet myself…
I never saw another bumble bee…


Child Four (a Boy)
Spotlight stage right

I never saw a bumble bee to even begin with.
I grew up in utter darkness
In a little room with a tiny bed no bigger that two feet long. My parents slid a tray of food under my door. I don’t know what the sun looks like, and I am afraid of it if you want to know the truth.
I know or at least I can imagine what a bumble bee sting feels like because my parents used to poke me with needles that was filled with clear fluid. It made me feel funny inside and dizzy
I didn’t like it, but after so many times I knew what to expect
I always work up from the fluid covered in poop.
I don’t know why or what this was from, but at least my parents would leave me a towel and a bar of cracked soap to clean up with.
Plus after the fluid, I always got a coloring book.
That is how at least I know what bumble bees look like
I never saw another bumble bee…


Child Five (A girl)
Spotlight stage left

I never saw another bumble bee.
Not after the time I got stung by over twelve of them
I used to be a bumble bee charmer, and my mamma would give me a quarter to go and collect honey from their nest. I had lots of quarters
Sometimes my mamma liked to use the honey for her tea, but other times she put it in her beer
She liked to drink beer at night, and she said the honey made the beer taste better. She said it was a special kind of beer; it was made out of wheat. I didn’t know what any of this meant, but she sure liked it.
When I couldn’t sleep my mamma would let me drink some of her honey beer. It made me feel like a grown-up and I liked that very much.
My mamma said I was her partner and I liked that because this meant I could sleep in bed with her. The girls at my school said this was weird, but I think they were just jealous. My mamma was the best….
I never saw another bumble bee…

Close curtain

Keep in mind, this came to me at 3AM!!!

href="http://www.haloscan.com/tb/crazypoet/108437856524329136/" title="Trackback" onclick="HaloScanTB('108437856524329136'); return false;">

<< Home

Weblog Commenting and Trackback by HaloScan.com