Landmines & Time Bombs (Excerpt I)

An excerpt from my 10-minute play I've been working on for about a week and a half. I think I might send it into a theater that is currently accepting scripts for its 10- minute play festival.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

SCENE 1

It’s the eve of Thanksgiving at the Reed farmhouse. A table sits center stage. On the table is a cutting board, a rolling pin and a ball of dough. Three chairs are placed around the table. Two pairs of leather lace up boots sit on top of a worn brown rug upstage right. Next to the rug is a basket and a few logs. Downstage right stands a small bus stop sign. Downstage right is a single wooden chair.

NARRATOR: Susan was one of those girls. You know, the mere embodiment of the word captivating. She was infatuated with wearing skirts, scrounging for money, chance happenings, stargazing, the smell of baseball diamonds, moving mountains, awkward conversation, and God. She was like beams of light: translucent and beautiful, but never tangible. You would sooner build a tower to the Heavens than catch Susan Moore. Still, many a man tried and Susan was forced to turn them and their vain attempts away. That is, all except for one.

(Spotlight comes up on upstage right, where JAMES is standing smoking a cigarrette. He glances at watch, tosses the butt onto the ground, and begins exiting stage right when he's stopped by the sound of clicking heels and a shadow downstage. Spot light comes up on SUSAN, standing next to bus stop , as she gazes at the stars. JAMES looks SUSAN over, smoothes back his hair and then calls out to her. SUSAN continues to stare up, and JAMES calls out again. He gets no reply, and becoming offended, walks towards SUSAN to confront. He taps her on the shoulder and only then does she look over, smiling. JAMES' faces untenses and after getting his senses back, smiles. Spot light fades. Lights comes up on SUSAN standing at the table rolling dough on the cutting board. A KNOCK is heard.)

SUSAN: (Presses firmly down on dough once more, then wipes hands on apron.) Just a moment! (Takes off apron, JAMES enters.) I'm-- (Turns around, freezing when she sees
JAMES.) James.
JAMES: I hope it's alright that I stopped by. I was on my way into town and--

SUSAN: (Blinks, unstiffening. Walks over to coat hanger and places apron on rung.) Of course. (FATHER watches MOTHER as she moves. MOTHER stares at hanger a moment before turning to FATHER, forcing a smile.) Can I get you anything? Coffee, water--?

JAMES: No thank you.

SUSAN: Excuse me then while I get a cup of coffee for myself.

(FATHER nods and MOTHER EXITS stage right. FATHER sits down table, clasping hands together as he rests arms on the table and fiddles with thumbs. MOTHER RE-ENTERS, coffee cup in hand. She walks over to table and looks as if she's about to sit down, but instead stands behind chair closest to her.)

JAMES: How's... Michael?

SUSAN: Good. He's good.

JAMES: Doin' well in school?

SUSAN: Very well. His english teacher says he's gifted. She wants to move him to the class with the older children.
JAMES: Hmm. (Smiles and shakes head.) I always thought him a numbers boy. I guess he's turnin' out more like you, huh? (MOTHER flashes a smile that quickly fades. FATHER looks at hands.) How's, uhh, Robert? I read something about the bank in the paper the other day--
SUSAN: (Sets cup down on table.) Robert is fine. James-- (FATHER wrings hands while sneaking a glance at MOTHER before looking back at table. MOTHER whispers.) What are you doing hear?
JAMES: (Looks up at MOTHER. Eyes meet for a moment before FATHER looks down, unnerved. He stands quickly, pushing chair out and turning towards stage left.) I'm sorry. I'll, uhh... I'll go--

SUSAN: Wait. (FATHER stops. MOTHER stares at ground.) Don't leave. (MOTHER looks up, motioning for FATHER to sit.) Please.