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Grace, Naomi, Sally, Margaret Mary

A short play

by Helen W.

** List of Characters **

Grace - a petite Caucasian woman in her early 60's with long, once-dark hair turned mostly gray.

Naomi - a tall, slender Caucasian woman in her mid 40's with short red hair.

Margaret Mary - a tall, broad-shouldered Caucasian woman in her late 50's with short, curly graying brown hair

Sally - medium-build Asian woman in her early 60's with medium-length jet-black hair.

** Set **

Stage left (audience right), steps lead from the theatre floor to a small hallway. A door divides the hallway from the apartment, which fills most of the stage. Upstage center are shelves packed with books and small statues, and wall hangings including an African-looking wooden mask and a picture of two men showing off a large fish. Downstage is a coffee table surrounded by a small sofa and two chairs. Stage right features a kitchen, with a counter facing the audience and cabinets upstage.

* * * * * * *

June 13, 1999, in a loft apartment in Cascade, Washington

As the lights come up, Grace, dressed in a charcoal suit and sensible black pumps, is in the stage left hallway knocking at the apartment door. One has the feeling she's been there a few minutes. Her hair is held back by a brass clip at the base of her neck; a few strands have escaped. She looks tired and a bit distressed. Naomi, dressed in a flowing white shirt and a full red and green peasant-style skirt, comes up the steps from the theatre floor.

Naomi: They're out of town, but I have a key.

Grace surprised: They?

Naomi: Blair and Jim.

Grace: Where?

Naomi: Indonesia. Isn't that exciting? They'll be there at least a few more days. Pause, as if to catch herself. I've got to say, you don't match the profile of most of the women I've met here. You aren't a reporter?

Grace: Hardly!

Naomi: A lawyer?

Grace: As a matter of fact, yes, but I'm not here in that capacity.

Naomi: You mean no harm to Blair or Jim?

Grace: None at all.

Naomi: Then please, follow me in.

Grace incredulously:Without knowing who I am?

Naomi: You just told me that you mean my boys no harm. What else do I need to know? People come and people go!

Grace: Your boys! Laughing I'm Jim's mother. Who the blazes are you?

From the theatre floor, Margaret Mary enters the set, bounding up the stairs. She's dressed in loose jeans and a Jags sweatshirt.

Margaret Mary: Grace Ellison, my goodness! I didn't expect to see you here! But I've got to object a bit. She turns to Naomi and holds out her hand; Naomi and she shake. Margaret Mary McDonald. I gave birth to Jim. Grace had a hand in raising him, though.

Grace: As much as William would allow.

Margaret Mary, laughing: Maybe we DO have some things in common, hon! Turns to Naomi. What's this about being out of town, though? Did you mean Jim?

Naomi looking up from a large key ring she's been examining: How did you know what we were saying?

Margaret Mary snatches Naomi's keys from her hands, seems to feel them quickly, then slides a key into the door and bustles into the apartment, leaving Naomi staring at Grace in the hallway.

Grace: You can see why she was the FIRST wife.

Margaret Mary, calling from the kitchen: I heard that!

Grace, in the same voice: I wouldn't have said it otherwise!

Naomi and Grace enter the apartment in a less energetic manner. By the time they reach the kitchen area, Margaret Mary has filled a kettle with water and placed it on the stovetop not clearly visible to audience. She then starts opening cabinets; her third try, she finds some canisters and plastic baggies.

Margaret Mary: Just look at all this tea! Grace, Naomi, I've never had to wrestle with the lose kind before. What do I do?

Naomi: Here, I'll take care of it. She removes a tin. Blair always stocks up on my favorite when he knows I'll be stopping through. Pause as she pulls out a steeper from a drawer and fiddles with the tea leaves. So, what brings you both here?

Grace: Well...

Margaret Mary: It's Jim's birthday tomorrow, and I suppose Grace and I both decided that it was time to drop in and do some fence-mending.

Grace: I don't have any fences to mend.

Margaret Mary: Then why didn't you call first?

Grace: I just happened to be in town. Turns to Naomi I swear, I've spent maybe a dozen hours in Margaret Mary's presence in my life, and I've gotten in about 5 words the whole time.

Margaret Mary: Don't swear! Any more swearing, you owe me a dime!

Grace: Can we curse, then?

Margaret Mary: Damn straight. Oops, that's a swear.

Grace, to Naomi: Let's try this again. You are?

Naomi: Naomi Sandburg. Blair's mother.

Grace looking around: I remember Jim telling me a bit about Blair back when he first moved in, and of course I heard the press reports about his, um, interesting thesis. Jim didn't describe the situation as permanent, though.

Naomi alarmed: When was this?

Grace a bit sheepishly: Two or three years ago.

Naomi: You haven't talked to Jim in three years?

Grace: We've talked! She's been wandering upstage, and is now looking at the mask. Blair certainly looks - settled. Turns back to Naomi What brings you here?

Naomi: Just needed a place to stay for the night. I've been up in Vancouver and I'm heading down to San Francisco to teach a course on phrenology.

Grace: Phrenology? The study of head shapes?

Naomi: Yes, but it's not what you think. Head shape can influence aura and lead to mistakes in readings...

Margaret Mary: Tea's on! Enters the living room carrying in a tray with three steaming mugs and accoutrements. Phrenology, wow! Honey, lemon, or milk?

Naomi: They left a lemon?

Margaret Mary: No, I had one in my purse.

Grace and Naomi: A lemon?

Margaret Mary: Well, several, actually. I never would have cut up my last... oh goodness, I should have made up another cup.

Grace, with a sigh, heads for the door. Margaret Mary heads for the kitchen. Sally, dressed in a yellow dress and matching pumps, walks up the stage steps as if she's just reaching the top of three flights of stairs. Grace reaches the door and waits; Sally knocks once, and Grace opens the door.

Grace: Sally! Why am I not surprised? Come on in.

Sally enters the apartment a little tentatively.

Sally: Grace? They exchange cheek-pecks. It's lovely to see you again. Where's Jim?

Margaret Mary, after putting an empty mug on the coffee table, joins them at the door.

Margaret Mary: Indonesia, right Naomi?

Naomi joins them.

Naomi: Right.

Sally to Naomi and Margaret Mary: Hello, I'm Sally Huang. I work for Jim's father.

Margaret Mary: I thought you smelled like my first husband!

Sally: Excuse me?

Grace: It's her way. This is Margaret Mary - McDonald, right? Jim's mother.

Sally eyes widening: Ah. Oh, of course, we have met.

Margaret Mary: Briefly, though. William always got me out of the house as quickly as he could.

Naomi: Naomi Sandburg.

Sally still sizing up Margaret Mary: Howdoyoudo.

Grace: Let's all get comfortable before our tea cools, shall we?

Naomi: Sally, what brings you here?

Sally: William has been trying to call Jim, to invite him to dinner for his birthday. I now understand why he didn't get back to him.

They all arrange themselves around the coffee table, with Mary Margaret closest to the kitchen, Grace and Naomi on the sofa, and Sally closest to the outer door.

Grace to Naomi: I hope you'll excuse my questions, but it HAS been a while since Jim and I have spoken. What on earth is Jim doing in Indonesia?

Naomi: I'm not sure myself. Blair's been there before, and his new employer thought it would be useful for him to go there as their representative, or something. Blair jumped at the chance, and Jim decided to go along, since he's still on medical leave.

Grace alarmed: Medical leave?

Naomi: Because of his bullet wound. Blair says he's still using a cane.

Grace: Someone SHOT him? I thought - I assumed, as a detective, he was doing reasonably safe work.

Margaret Mary: Jim gets shot at all the time. I can barely read the local paper these days.

Grace: He never mentions being shot at to me.

Naomi: Don't feel bad! Blair and I talk all the time, and he tells me extremely little.

Grace: I'll have to sit him down and get the whole story from him when he gets back.

Margaret Mary: That's actually why I'm here. I think it's time Jim started tell the WHOLE story.

Naomi softly, into her mug: I agree. But it's not our decision to make.

Grace: What are you talking about?

Margaret Mary: I was hoping... well, you see, I'm a sentinel too.

Naomi tightly: I can't believe - I've suspected, but I just can't believe that Jim would let my son sacrifice everything to save his - his what? His privacy?

Grace: Wait, back up. You're saying that all that stuff in the news was true? Jim is some sort of super-human, and he got it from where, from you, Mary?

Margaret Mary: Mmm hmm. And I wanted - I guess I want to let him know that it's okay for people to know. Really.

Grace: Where's your cape, then?

Margaret Mary: It chafes too much. Pauses, swirls tea around in her cup. I haven't really been anything of a mother to Jim. It's taken me years to learn to control my senses, and I think that, if I'd been part of his life, well, he wouldn't feel like he had to, to hide them. Be ashamed of them. It's - it's my wish that he'll let me help him.

Naomi: What do you mean, control?

Margaret Mary: Where shall I begin? I was born a poor white child

Grace: That matches how William described you.

Margaret Mary: I can imagine! Anyway, I WAS from a very different class, you might say, than William. Laughs And I've pretty much stayed that way! We met during his first year at Rainier. I was working in the soda shop across from his dorm. One thing led to another, and before you knew it I was pregnant. It being back then, we got married of course and his father set us up in an apartment and picked up all of our bills. It was fine at first, but none of my girlfriends really wanted to have much to do with me. And I got big quickly, so nobody would hire me for counter help, which was all I could really do. I was so lonely. The pregnancy started awful, and I just kept feeling worse and worse. Until all I could do was cry all day. My parents couldn't believe it - I'd been this girl athlete and there I was, falling apart. I ended up in a hospital on a morphine drip for my last month. When they reckoned that Jim would be safe outside of me, they upped the dose, cut me open and pulled him out.

Naomi: That's - that's very different from my birth experience.

Margaret Mary: I've never heard of anyone else having one similar. Something about being alone and pregnant in that little apartment - well, I'd always had great hearing, great vision, that sort of thing, but it was as if I was suddenly able to hear the universe. Feel everything. Anyway, after Jim was born I was able to fake normality, you might call it. For a while, at least. But, you know, a baby is hard work and William's family didn't think I was really up to it. They moved us in with them, and finally I was asked to leave. I can't say I fought it really hard, especially when they promised I'd have some contact Jim. That was all I really could take - a few visits, a couple of times a year. I moved back in with my parents. The drug culture hit Cascade, and I got some relief there, for a while, but I saw what could happen and I had a few terrifying trips, so it didn't take me long to get out of that scene. I ended up going to Junior College and then doing secretarial work. And - I got good at blocking out my senses.

Grace: Really, you seemed fine the times we met.

Margaret Mary: Yes - it was really important that Jim see that his mother was okay. Maybe too ditsy to be his mother - I picked up my ditz thing somewhere along the way - but I didn't want him to think I was too off my rocker.

Naomi: I'd think that a child might understand illness more than...

Margaret Mary: Than neglect?

Naomi: Well, yes.

Margaret Mary: Anyway, I met Stan and he was raising four kids without a mother and I helped him out as a good neighbor until HIS mother died and we could get married. Because, you know, as a divorced basket case I couldn't get married in our church, and his mother wouldn't have accepted any other type.

Grace: I remember William complaining once that you were trying to get your marriage annulled. He really didn't see the point.

Margaret Mary: It probably wouldn't have helped anyway, given the times. Anyway, I raised Stan's kids. Laughing By the time they became MY kids, they weren't kids anymore! But I think I did a pretty good job. And... somewhere along the way, being happy with Stan made me feel like I could stop clamping down on my senses. For the past dozen or so years, actually, I've been pretty open about them. With friends and at work, you know.

Grace: Where do you work?

Margaret Mary: I'm the church secretary for St. Luke's down on Market Street. Everyone - everyone knows that I know everything that goes on in the building. Everything. They'll confess to Father, then stop by and talk to me about their lives for a while, and it's obvious they know what they just said. I think they confess sometimes just so that they can follow up with me.

Naomi: You LISTEN to confessions?

Margaret Mary: I tried not to, at first. Well, for a few days.

Grace snorts.

Margaret Mary: YOU try it. Anyway, what I want to tell Jim is, EVERYONE knows what I do, and it's okay.

Naomi: So, you have, I guess I'd call it control, of things now?

Margaret Mary: Well, no. Not really. It's no great trick to listen to a conversation down the hall. But I can do a whole lot more, I just don't dare try.

Naomi: Why not?

Margaret Mary: I get - lost in the sensation. Not just from hearing. Vision is worst by far. But smell, or taste, or touch - they can all get overwhelming. And if I'm not zoning out on something, I'm gagging at a bad smell, or suddenly something woolen will feel like knives... That's why I carry lemons. If I'm overpowered, I rub one then smell or taste my fingers. And I dress like this because anything tight can suddenly be agony. If I dressed like Grace, I'd die.

Naomi: Does anything help you, how should I put it, extend your range?

Margaret Mary: Sometimes, if I want to see something clearly far away, I'll keep a hand on my husband or something. But it's not a perfect solution.

Laughing, Margaret Mary looks around.

Margaret Mary: You know what? I'm starved. Anyone for pizza? I've got a coupon for Papa Lenny's.

Grace: Pizza?

Naomi: I'm a vegetarian.

Margaret Mary: There are veggie pizzas...

Sally: No, I'll cook something.

Sally heads into the kitchen and opens the refrigerator, then the cabinets.

Sally: Never mind. I'll call my cousin; his restaurant is five blocks from here. You say no meat?

Naomi: Are you talking about Tony's Takeout? Their Tofu Delight is truly delightful.

Sally: Great.

Sally picks up phone, talks into it, and ends with: Put it on William Ellison's tab, will you George?

Grace: My idea of a perfect meal - not only do I not have to cook it, I don't even have to order it!

Sally: I remember you liked to spend some time in the kitchen.

Grace: I was trying to be a good little wife. William had told me such tales about Margaret Mary!

Naomi: When did you and William get together?

Grace: Right after William graduated. He was living with his parents so that they could help with Jim, and he was itching for someone to play mommy so that he could move out again. I was a few years out of school, trying to figure out what to do. William was handsome and dashing and even at 22 I knew he was going somewhere. I thought I wanted to go there to. So we got married and I got pregnant and I don't think I was a much better mother than Mary Margaret, without her excuses. We got our first full-time housekeeper when Stephen was three. She didn't last too long. I went from being completely stressed to bored to tears. I started to do some volunteer work with women victims of abuse, and that reawakened my childhood dream of being a lawyer.

Naomi: You work with abuse victims?

Grace smiling: Actually, no, I work with women entrepreneurs. Somewhere along the way, I figured I could help women best by empowering them. I think I was too greedy, and not cuddly enough, for family law.

Naomi: Ah.

Grace: Anyway, I pleaded with William to let me go live in Seattle for a few years and go law school - I promised I'd be back home as much as possible - but he wouldn't hear of it. So I divorced him and went to school on the alimony. It worked out quite well, actually. Stephen and I have always been close, and I DO think of myself as Jim's mother.

Margaret Mary: Food's here! I'll go meet the delivery guy.

Margaret Mary leaves, trots down steps.

Grace: That was quick.

Sally: I'm family.

Naomi: I noticed some wine. Shall I?

Grace: By all means.

Naomi busies herself with the wine and bottles; a moment later, Mary Margaret reappears, carrying a bag, which she takes into the kitchen. Soon, the food is in ceramic bowls and the food, wine, plates, and chopsticks are arranged on the coffee table.

Naomi: Sally, this is wonderful. Do you have a lot of family in Cascade?

Sally: Yes, between Huangs and Ellisons.

Naomi: You consider the Ellisons family?

Sally: Well, certainly William. And I love Stephen like a son. Jim, though - he was so grown when I started to work for William. So closed off. And then, with his estrangement from William, I didn't see him for years.

Naomi: Closed off how?

Sally: I'm not saying he was a bad kid. Really, he never gave William a bit of trouble. But no joy, either. He didn't share himself. And I was just the housekeeper.

Grace: I don't think William ever thought of you in that way.

Sally: He did ask me to marry him once. I said no. Why have the same job but no pay and no Sundays off? But also, I was expecting my family - the Chinese one - to produce a nice man for me to marry. Laughs I think if he asked now, I might say yes. You never know.

Naomi: Why do you think Jim was closed off? He doesn't really seem that way to me, now at least.

Sally: I really can't say.

Margaret Mary: More wine? I walked here and I'm taking a cab home.

Grace: Cab for me too.

Grace, Margaret Mary, and Naomi refill glasses; Sally is still nursing her first glass.

Sally: I wish I had been more forceful with Jim. But Stephen was so much younger and needed me more. And my loyalty was to William.

Grace: Naomi, how well DO you know Jim?

Naomi: Well, not THAT well. Not as well as I'd like to, if he weren't my son's best friend.

Grace and Margaret Mary both choke a little. Sally just smiles.

Naomi: Well, I didn't get to be a teenage mother by being shy.

Margaret Mary: How DID you manage it?

Naomi: Not perfectly at times, but Blair and I, we were a team. Me and this skinny, curly-haired little kid. He grew up quickly, that helped a lot, I guess. I don't know. As soon as he was born, I couldn't imagine not having him there. And then, he was in school so young - some of my girlfriends were just starting families as he was starting college. Heck, some of my friends are just starting families NOW. And I have this brilliant son who's a great friend. He doesn't tell me a lot about the work he does with Jim, but he tells me a lot about Jim. How much he admires him, how different Jim is from what he thought cops were like. I've softened to the profession myself. I don't know - what can I say?

Grace: If we can take it as a given, based on what Margaret Mary has said, that Blair's thesis wasn't a fraud - why did he say it was? What's tying him to Jim? I've got to say, from the point of view of someone who has worked with abuse victims, it looks scary.

Naomi: I don't think Blair is any sort of victim.

Margaret Mary: Sure he is. The question is, why?

Naomi: What are you saying?

Margaret Mary: I HAVE seen them together; I come over for dinner about twice a year. Jim's got a pretty strong personality, but Blair pushes back even harder. I always bought the line about Blair studying police culture or whatever, but now I get that Blair was studying Jim the Sentinel. But what, exactly, was he studying? Naomi, did you read the thesis?

Naomi: No.

Margaret Mary: I'm betting it was as much about how Jim controls his senses as how he uses them and why he has them. And I'd bet that Blair has a lot to do with that.

Naomi: So, what would happen if Blair left?

Margaret Mary: That's a very good question.

Naomi: Have you ever tried meditation to, I don't know, keep control?

Margaret Mary: Yes, actually. I ended up staring at a tree for three hours. I didn't do that again. Jogging has been a much safer form of relaxation!

Naomi smiling slightly: Just now, I realized. THIS is why my Blair lives here. He's not just studying Jim's work for his thesis, or helping Jim fine-tune his senses. He's some sort of - I don't know, Margaret Mary, if you had someone who really wanted to help you see and hear as well as you could, what would you call them?

Margaret Mary: A really good friend.

Grace: A wife? Always wanted one of those, myself.

Sally: 'Servant' would be the wrong word. An assistant of some sort?

Naomi: No... I think, if they are on equal footing, 'guide' would be a better term. Blair is a Sentinel Guide. Wonder how that will look on his resume?

Sally rising: I really must be getting back to the house. This has truly been a lovely evening. I wish William had been here.

Grace and Margaret Mary exchanged glances; Sally catches the exchange.

Sally: William really HAS changed with age. Mellowed, you would say. I hope, not too late.

Margaret Mary: And Stanley will be wondering where I've gotten to.

Grace: I'm just heading to a hotel. Naomi, I'll help with the dishes.

Naomi: Everyone, just help me get stuff into the kitchen and I'll tackle them in the morning before I leave. I hate working in the kitchen when I'm tipsy.

Everyone carries dishes and such into the kitchen. Goodbyes and embraces are exchanged all around and Grace, Margaret Mary, and Sally leave together.

Sally: Let me drive both of you...

After the others leave, Naomi surveys the apartment, straightening books. Then, goes over to her bag and pulls out her cell phone. Muttering, she rifles through bag some more.

Naomi: Where's his cell number?

She finds a scrap of paper; reading it, she punches in a number.

Naomi: Hi, honey. I know you won't hear this until you get back to the states, but I wanted you to know that I made it to the loft fine. In fact, I've just had the most extraordinary evening, and we really have to talk. Jim's birth mother, his dad's second wife, and his housekeeper all showed up out of the blue, and they've just now left. Margaret Mary - that's his bio mom - you can really she her in Jim. She's such a riot! And I see bits of Sally and Grace in him too. They're all great women, but I think, dear, you're a better mom than any of them. Isn't that funny? Can you tell we broke into your wine? Anyway, I'd like you to know - I think I understand about Jim now. Take care of him, okay honey? Call me when you can, or send me email. I'm checking it all the time now, isn't that hilarious? Love you!

She clicks the phone closed.

Fade to black.

*** The End ***