Saturday, November 15, 2025

November Playwriting 14: Grief Bird Play continues

                                 KATIE

I had the weirdest dream!

                                 JAMIE

I believe that!

                                KATIE

There was this bear in the woods or talking eagle, I think.

                                JAMIE

Isn’t that the dream you always have when you come to see Sheila? Where did the eagle take you this time? Nome, Alaska and then let me guess you flew off to Hatii or Siberia and then you ended back in your cozy bed wanting more blankets, so you tugged and tugged and all the blankets of the world were suddenly yours! Because the nice talking eagle bear man said you deserved them.

                                KATIE

Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning.

                                JAMIE

You and Sheila, you always have these ridiculous long descriptions about your dreams and I never can remember my dreams.

                                KATIE

You sound angry about it.

                                JAMIE

Not angry, just irritated.

                                SHEILA            

You sound just like Sutton. He couldn’t remember his dreams either. Sammy would dream in lists and recite them or want to hear my dream and Sutton would barely tolerate us. He’d say, “That’s not possible to remember that much detail. You’re both making that up.” But we weren’t. He didn’t get it why it was so important to tell each other because if we didn’t, we’d forget and it sticks in our brains until we can’t rest.

                                JAMIE

Really?

                                KATIE

I get what she’s saying. You who don’t dream should not make fun.

                                JAMIE

That means I never rest?

                                KATIE

That’s obviously true!

                                SHEILA

I dreamt for the first time last night since all of this.

                                KATIE

Do you want to tell us about it?

                                JAMIE

It’s okay if you don’t or if it’s too much.

                                KATIE

You dork, she just said she needs to wipe her brain clean by telling someone her dreams!

                                SHEILA

I did? I did. Sure. Okay.

                                KATIE

Is it super sad? Do we need Kleenex? I think I saw some in the kitchen. Let me…

                                JAMIE

Sit! Let the woman speak! Go ahead.

                                SHEILA

I was listening to Sammy his sing-song noises as he paced the house, wondering when he was going to go to sleep. He was slowing down, and I must have dropped off. I never heard that last slam of the door that defines his giving up to go “pass out,” as he puts it.

                                JAMIE

I heard the slam of the door believe me, it was around four this morning!

                                KATIE

That man hardly sleeps.

                                SHEILA

Never has slept much. He is like his Papa in that. Sutton would stay up to all hours to get projects done like he was still a college student staying up to study for his exams.

                                KATIE

How that man could pull all nighters still in his fifties was beyond me!

                                SHEILA

Me too.

                                KATIE

He was determined to do what he had to.

                                JAMIE

Always.

                                SHEILA

Yeah, always.

                                JAMIE

Your dream?

                                KATIE

It wasn’t Sutton, was it?

                                SHEILA

No, I dream about anything but him. It seems my dreams can’t reach him yet.

                                KATIE

Oh, Sweetie.

                                SHEILA

It… the dream… he isn’t there… Breath… Starting again. I was waiting for the sound of Sammy’s door when I fell asleep and began to dream about a door being opened and closed over and over. I had to get through this door, but I couldn’t touch it.

                                JAMIE

Why?

                                SHEILA

It’s a dream. I just knew I couldn’t because it was too cold and it would freeze me?

                                KATIE

Wow.

                                SHEILA

So, I had to time running through it kind of like a revolving door.

                                JAMIE

I love those! You hardly ever see them anymore except on those big buildings…

(KATIE gives JAMIE a look)

Go on, please.

                                SHEILA

Somehow, I got through it even though I knew if I didn’t it would chop me in half and I’d freeze and then shatter. I had to get through it. It was sharp or I knew it was sharp but I got through without that and I was relieved. Then I was walking though a mossy forest on a stone path. The path was slippery and I stumbled. When I slid like I was going to hit the forest floor a hand shot out and caught me. It was familiar and warm. I looked up at the face and it was and wasn’t Uncle Barry.

                                KATIE

No!

                                SHEILA

Yeah. I hadn’t thought about him for years.

                                JAMIE

He’s been gone a long time. Did Aunt Bertha appear too?

                                SHEILA

Yes.

                                    KATIE

Oh wow. She’s been gone, what fifteen years or more?

                                SHEILA

Both of them gone longer than that. I didn’t seem surprised to see them in my dream. Uncle Barry picked me up in those big hands of his and it was like I changed from big adult me to child me in an instant. Aunt Bertha joined us. She handed me a cup of tea.

                                KATIE

Of course she did. Did she read your tea leave too?

                                SHEILA

That’s right! She used to do that, didn’t she?

                                JAMIE

She did. I was always going to marry some handsome stranger.

                                KATIE AND SHEILA

Me too!

                                SHEILA

Oh Gosh, she was funny.

                                KATIE

In her own way, sure.

                                JAMIE

Is that what you two call it?

                                SHEILA

Anyway…we were walking for a long time in this mossy stone pathed forest talking about everything and nothing. I don’t remember the specifics but I felt lighter until a bird…

                                JAMIE

You just can’t get away from those damn birds.

                                KATIE

It wasn’t a talking eagle, was it?

                                SHEILA

No. Just an ordinary looking bird. A chickadee or something small. Yes, Sammy would know.

                                JAMIE

And the story would stop right there until you identified that bird in detail, but go on.

                                SHEILA

This little bird had a balloon in it’s beak. It was a white bird with a white iridescent balloon.

                                JAMIE

Iridescent? Ooooh, fancy!

(KATIE mouths question about word and JAMIE mouths shiny back)

                                SHEILA

I guess. We had iridescent balloons at our wedding reception. Sutton thought they were pretty fancy too. Anyway, this bird was offering me the balloon and Uncle Barry and Aunt Bertha were encouraging me to take it. The bird opens it’s beak to give it to me and the string slipped out of my fingers. It starts floating straight up so fast I can’t catch it. I turned around to see if Uncle Barry or Aunt Bertha could help me and they’re not there. The woods are gone. The green moss is gone. I’m standing on the stone path and the balloon is barely in sight and the bird has hopped on my shoulder and is pecking at it. I start yelling at the bird to go away. It flies up by the balloon. I’m scared it is going to pop it, but instead it grabs the string in it’s mouth…

                                KATIE

Beak.

                                SHEILA

Beak and files out of sight. I stand there waiting for it to come back for the picture to fill back in or the mossy ground and logs or trees to surround me again but there is nothing but stark white emptiness. I call to the bird. It doesn’t return. I call and call and call and then I hear the slam of a distant door and I woke up.

(SHEILA is weepy)

                                JAMIE

Damn bird.

                                SHEILA

And balloon.

                                KATIE

This sounds like you need a cup of tea. Do you have any of that Russian tea mix that Aunt Bertha used to make?

                                SHEILA

I might. It’s pretty old. I used to drink some whenever it would snow.

                                JAMIE

It doesn’t snow here that often, does it?

                                SHEILA

No, it doesn’t. Rarely.

 

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