Winter's Child
A Drama in Two Acts
by
Michael Thomas Tower
Performance time: Approximately 2 hours
© 1986-2005 Michael Thomas Tower
All rights reserved
Query regarding production, performance or presentation of this play
in any manner whatsoever should be directed to the author
MTTower@aol.com
wc0503c
Synopsis
Fourteen-year-old Haro sees his life, and the lives of his family, as very ordinary, until the winter of 1950 when his grandmother dies. That's when family secrets begin to unravel and everyone must deal with truths that they never suspected, and some must shoulder the guilt.
By the time Haro finishes telling us his story, healing has begun and hope lights the future, even though tragedy must run its course.
The Characters
Haro Draper -- 14; son of Ellen, grandson of Gilman, brother of Deborah Jean.
Ellen Draper -- 42; mother of Haro, sister of Penny, oldest daughter of Gilman.
Penny Beal -- 34; Ellen's sister, youngest daughter of Gilman.
Deborah Jean Draper -- 12; daughter of Ellen, sister of Haro, granddaughter of Gilman.
Gilman Harold Ferris -- almost 74; father of Ellen and Penny, grandfather of Haro and Deborah.
Clifford Draper -- 44; Ellen's estranged husband.
Mrs. Wharton -- Any adult age. A neighbor.
The Time
Except for the final scene, the action takes place during the four-day period from Friday, December 15, through Tuesday, December 19, 1950. The final scene takes place nearly eight months later.
The Settings
The Kitchen
Most of the action takes place in the farmhouse kitchen of the Ferris home. The script is written with the following configuration in mind.
The door leading to the outside is situated on the downstage-right wall. On that same wall, upstage from the outside door, is a narrow opening with steep stairs (not necessarily visible). On the upstage wall, near the right corner, is a door that leads directly into the living room. On that wall, near the door, is an old electric refrigerator.
Also on the upstage wall, near the left corner, is the kitchen range -- an old kerosene-burning monster with oven on top. On the stage-left wall are the kitchen cabinets, in the middle of which is a sink with a single spigot protruding over it, and over the sink there's a window with curtains.
More or less in the middle of the room is a heavy round pedestal table with mismatched straight-back chairs around it.
On the upstage wall hangs a cheap framed reproduction of da Vinci's The Last Supper. Near this are two framed photographs, each showing the smiling face of a young man in World War II Navy uniform. These are photographs of J.B. and Charley Ferris, fraternal twin brothers. There is sufficient space in this wall area for other photos to be added.
The final scene calls for this room to be vacated -- empty of furniture, dishes, curtains, etc., with only the pictures on the wall remaining (to be removed during that scene).
The Hayloft
This is a small area which may be defined more by light than set. In the center of this area is a bale of hay and there is hay scattered on the floor. Upstage of the bale is an old board partition positioned to provide for entrance and exit to the area. A kerosene lantern hangs on a hook protruding from the wall. Lighting includes "sunlight" coming through a narrow unseen window high above for daytime scene.
Winter's Child
Act I - Scene 1
(A light comes up downstage left, illuminating only haro standing downstage to one side. he is holding a looseleaf notebook with about 150 handwritten pages, and he is writing on the last page. After a few seconds he turns back to the first page, then starts reading aloud -- telling us the story he has written.)
haro
It wasn't so long ago that I considered my life to be common -- just one very ordinary day givin' way to the next very ordinary day. If I looked at photographs taken a year earlier, I might notice a friend had grown taller, the preacher was balder and my mother was wearier. But that was just one ordinary year givin' way to the next ordinary year
(lights come up to illuminate the room with a cold, diffused glow seeping through the window over the sink -- mid-afternoon with low, heavy clouds. Then there is the sound of a tight, harsh wind clawing at the house.
(note: haro has very limited movement of his left hand and left leg, except: (1) When he's narrating, and then there is no limitation of movement; and (2) in the final scene, where the limitation is not as noticeable as at other times.)
(continuing) haro (continuing)
During the first fourteen years of my life, my mother, sister and I lived in a little two-bedroom house in Grassland, Texas. But to me, "home" was a few miles down the road where my grandparents lived. That's where we spent much of our time and that's the place with all the memories that are a part of who I am: The smell of Grand'ma's spicy apple cake made from fruit off the gnarly old tree right outside her kitchen window; the sound of her hummin' as she canned all those vegetables from her garden and stored them in the storm cellar; the rhythm of her feet goin' up and down on the treadle of her Singer sewin' machine; the laughter of Gran'pa as he told stories that he swore were true, even though the facts changed with each tellin'; his grumbles when I beat him at a game of dominoes, especially when I knew he hadn't let me win. There are more memories than I could ever list.
My life stopped bein' ordinary on Sunday, December ten, nineteen-fifty -- at four-thirty in the mornin'. That's when my grandmother died. Five days later she was laid to rest in the sprawlin' old cemetery just outside-a Grasslan', about a mile from the little church where she an' Gran'pa had worshiped for thirty-five years.
(The light goes out on Haro and he exits. The kitchen door opens and ellen enters. she quickly closes the door behind her and reaches for a wall switch which she twists [it's that kind], and a bare bulb hanging from an electrical cord in the middle of the room lights the area. she removes heavy gloves and thick scarf and goes to get a box of matches. she manipulates a plunger on the range, adjusts knobs, then opens the oven door and reaches in with a lighted match. she blows out the match and leaves the oven door open. ellen is putting the matches back in place when deborah jean enters from the porch.)
ellen
Where's your gran'pa, Deb'rah Jean?
deborah jean
Barn. Goin' to check on Brown Betty.
ellen
Not even this weather's gonna hurt that ornery ol' critter.
deborah jean
You never have liked that cow.
ellen
She didn' like me first.
deborah jean
She's an awful good milker.
ellen
She'd a-been pot roast long time ago if she wadn'.
deborah jean
Aint Penny said she'd prob'ly give ice cream instead of milk today.
ellen
Leave it to her -- the family wit. Cain't even bury our mother without her makin' barnyard jokes.
(deborah jean is at the oven. ellen has removed her coat. she opens a cabinet drawer and withdraws a letter-size envelope and places it on the table. There's the sound of the screen-door slamming, then haro opens the door and enters. [There is distinctive difference in Haro's costuming from that when he is narrating.] he joins Deborah at the range. haro limps noticeably with his left leg, and his left arm and hand is very restricted in movement; this limited movement would not have been evident while he's narrating.)
haro
Gran'pa an' me went to the chicken house. Two more froze.
ellen
Hens, a-course.
haro
Yes ma'am.
ellen
Roosters too mean t' let go. Strut an' crow. That's all they do.
haro
Makes six, all told.
ellen
Ever' chicken in Lynn County'll freeze if this spell dudn' let up.
haro
Good thing people 'round here don't depend on chickens for their bread an' butter.
deborah jean
(Laughing)
I didn' know chickens could make bread an' butter.
ellen
Haro, now don't you be jokin', too, today of all days.
haro
I'm sorry, ma'am. Wadn' tryin' to make a joke -- it just came out that way.
ellen
Chickens freezin', cows so cold cain't drop their milk -- those things are hardships for people.
haro
Yes ma'am, I know.
ellen
A little more prayin' and a little less jokin' -- that's my advice. Never seen anything like it, 'specially this early. Not even Christmas yet.
haro
Gettin' close, though.
ellen
Shouldn' have to celebrate the birthday of the Lord Jesus Christ while we're freezin' to pieces.
(ellen picks up matches and hands them to haro.)
(continuing) ellen (continuing)
Here, Haro. Go light the heater in the livin' room.
haro
Yes ma'am.
ellen
Check t'see there's plen'y-a coal oil in it. An' shut the bedroom doors so the heat'll stay in.
haro
Okay.
ellen
An' be sure the vent on the stove is open proper.
haro
I know how to do it! ... ma'am.
(haro exits. At the sink, ellen twists the faucet handle; no water comes out. Showing exasperation, she takes a quart Mason jar from the cabinet and hands it to deborah jean.)
ellen
Here, Deb'rah Jean. Go get some water from one of those cans in the front bedroom. Papa's gonna want some coffee when he gets in. Don't slosh it on the floor.
deborah jean
Yes ma'am.
ellen
We gotta remember to take those cans home with us an' refill'em.
(deborah jean exits US. The screen-door slams. penny opens the kitchen door. she turns and yells outside.)
penny
Papa, please come on in here!
ellen
Leave him alone, Penny.
penny
He's going to freeze out there.
ellen
Shut the door, or we'll all freeze.
(penny shuts the door.)
(continuing) ellen (continuing)
Let him have some time to hisself.
penny
Just standing out there, staring into space.
ellen
He's all right.
penny
Probably go to the hayloft. Does he still do that? ... go to the barn and pray at the top of his lungs for hours?
ellen
You keep askin' me questions about Papa and I keep tellin' you I don' know. I got my own house to keep up with. Cain't know ever'thing goes on here.
penny
You were here a lot while Mama was sick, you said.
ellen
I was here all the time when Mama was sick. Somebody had to be. You or Laura wadn' about to disrupt y'all's important little lives to help out with somethin' as piddlin' as a poor, sick, dyin' mother.
penny
Ellen, you never told me she was sick till a week before she died.
ellen
Two weeks. Close to it.
penny
Did you tell Laura she was sick?
ellen
More'n a month ago, when Mama first took ill. She drove down once or twice. Now look -- she dudn' even get here for the funeral.
penny
Because of the weather, Ellen. She's stranded in Denver.
ellen
If she'd of stayed home, she wouldn' of been so far away.
penny
Well, I can't argue that point.
ellen
Runnin' all over the country while Mama was dyin'.
penny
No one knew she was dying. Even you didn't know she was dying, for Pete's sake. And you know Laura had to go to Portland on business.
ellen
Somethin' that couldn' possibly wait, I suppose.
penny
You know Simon wasn't well enough to make the trip. And she's as much a part of that business as he is.
ellen
And he couldn' come either?
penny
Simon's doctor told him to take it easy. When Papa's around Simon, things aren't exactly easy, as I recall.
ellen
Oh, they get along perty good now-days. Y'd know that if you ever came home. Besides, if Laura's got a problem, only got herself to blame.
penny
What do you mean by that?
ellen
Well ... she shouldn'-a married a Jew! Just askin' for trouble.
penny
Oh, Ellen!
ellen
Never seen Mama an' Papa so upset in my life.
penny
It was Papa, not Mama that was upset.
ellen
Only ever been one Jew family in this county, an' they know their place. Then Simon Bernstein shows up.
penny
He was a good teacher.
ellen
He didn' stay on the job long.
penny
Because of people who didn't want a "Christ-killer" infecting the minds of the little fifth-graders.
ellen
I wadn' one of them. I just didn' think he was right for Laura.
penny
They've had a very good marriage, Ellen. They love each other, built a successful business together, got a good life. We should be so lucky.
ellen
Well, you certainly enjoy rubbin' salt into my wounds, don't you?
penny
What? Oh, Ellen, I wasn't implying anything about you ...
ellen
Don't reckin I'll ever get over that part of my life.
penny
Of course not. There's Deborah and Haro that are a part of the life you and Clifford had for those years --
ellen
(Overlapping/interrupting)
Hush! I don't want to talk about that.
penny
Maybe it would do you good to talk about it.
ellen
Sounds like you know an awful lot about what Laura an' Simon are up to.
penny
We stay in touch.
ellen
Mail must get back and forth between California an' Amarilla lot better'n it does to Grassland. I'm lucky to get a letter from you once a year.
penny
It's more often than that, and I can talk with Laura by phone. You don't have a phone.
(penny removes her coat. ellen prepares to make coffee. haro enters from US. he puts the matches on the counter.)
haro
Mother, could I have somethin' to eat?
ellen
We were eatin' all day before we went to the funeral service, Haro. Never seen so much food brought in.
haro
I didn' feel like eatin' then.
ellen
And whose fault is that?
haro
Too many people aroun'.
ellen
I've told you a hunnerd times, you cain't be so afraid of people.
haro
I wadn' afraid ...
penny
I'll fix you something, Haro. How about fried chicken and mashed potatoes, and there's some fruit salad --
ellen
(Overlapping/interrupting)
When he needs somethin' to eat, I'll fix it. He's my son and I can take care of him just fine, I reckin.
(To Haro)
Supper won't be long. You can wait.
haro
Yes ma'am.
ellen
Go put your coats on a chair by the heater. Get'em dried out good.
(haro exits.)
(continuing) ellen (continuing)
Well, aren't you gonna give me one of your reprimandin' stares? Seems I cain't talk to my kids these days without one of your ... looks.
penny
Sorry. I didn't realize ...
(A beat)
It just seems to me you're awfully hard on them, sometimes.
ellen
They got to know what's right, got to be strong. Haro has his burden to bear. God wouldn' of made him a cripple if there wadn' somethin' special he's preparin' him for.
penny
Oh, come on, Ellen! God didn't make him a cripple.
ellen
Oh, an' just what would you know about it?
penny
He's the way he is because you wouldn't have a doctor when he was born.
ellen
God's the only doctor I ever need! Praise his holy name.
penny
I was there, Ellen. We knew there was trouble right off. But you and Papa just kept saying "God will take care of us."
ellen
Papa was prayin' an' Mama was prayin'. Don' know what you were doin'.
penny
I was sitting in the living room with Mama. She was crying and begging Papa to go get a doctor.
ellen
She was not! She believed in the healin' power of Jesus, believed in what God could do if we only trust him --
penny
(Overlapping/interrupting)
She believed something was wrong!
ellen
God gave me all the help I needed.
penny
But not all the help Haro needed.
ellen
Don't you be disrespectful of God! You an' your devil-talk!
penny
He'll always be a cripple because of you! -- you and Papa and this damned religion that you think is so perfect --
ellen
(Overlapping/interrupting)
Profanity! Devilish profanity! A sinful heart and a corrupt mouth! Don't you dare speak like that around here!
penny
Are you afraid to hear what I've got to say?
ellen
I'm afraid of your darkness and your vileness! That's what I'm afraid of! You been doubtin' an' questionin' for as long's I can remember. And I'm sick an' tired of it! I won't listen to it any more, Penny Beal! Not any more! You think you can come marchin' in here and blaspheme God like this --
penny
(Overlapping/interrupting)
Ellen, please! Don't! Let's not do this! --
ellen
(Overlapping/interrupting)
You just keep your dirty, iniquitous tongue still. Don't you dare be spewin' your filth out at me!
ellen
It's God you t' tell you're sorry.
penny
I'm sorry.
(A beat)
Isn't it possible for sisters to be friends?
ellen
Reckin Laura's the one you've chosen t' be friends with.
penny
We stay in touch.
ellen
Maybe birds of a feather should count their blessin's.
(Yelling to Deborah offstage)
Deb'rah Jean, where's that water? Cain't make coffee out-a thin air, now can I?
(A beat; yells louder)
Deb'rah Jean Draper, answer me!
(offstage) haro (offstage)
She's outside, Mother.
ellen
What?
(haro enters from US with his open Bible in hand.)
haro
Sittin' on the front porch with Gran'pa. He was just sittin' out there. Deb'rah went out to sit with 'im.
ellen
(To Penny)
Them two. They do that sometimes. Seem to get joy outta just settin' down by each other.
penny
I remember when you used to do that with him.
ellen
Hmph. That would-a been a long time ago.
haro
What was it you wanted, Mother?
ellen
Some water. Out-a one-a them cans in the bedroom.
haro
I'll get it.
(haro exits.)
penny
He'll freeze out there yet.
ellen
He knows his limits.
(A beat)
What are you smilin' about?
penny
Thinking about how warm it is at home right now.
ellen
Home? Oh ... you mean California? I guess I wouldn't mind a bit-a that warmth right now, myself.
penny
There were roses blooming in my yard when I left, if you can believe that.
(haro enters US with Mason jar filled with water and sets it on the counter.)
ellen
No use perkin' it till he gets in here.
haro
Mother, Gran'pa is sittin' out on the porch cryin'.
ellen
Is Deb'rah Jean still with him?
haro
Yes ma'am.
ellen
Still got his overcoat on?
haro
Think so.
ellen
Then let him alone. Reckin he'll be okay.
haro
I never saw Gran'pa cry before.
ellen
Just keep a eye on him.
haro
Yes ma'am.
(haro exits US. ellen responds to her weariness as her shoulders sag and she leans back against the cabinet. she sighs heavily.)
penny
You're tired. Why don't you lie down and rest.
ellen
Rest? Don't even know the meanin' of the word.
(A beat)
I'm always havin' to figger things out, Penny. And I don't feel like I know anything. So much of the time, I just have to make wild guesses an' hope things don' turn out too awful.
penny
But you always seem so sure about everything.
ellen
I do it because I have to. Cain't let my kids see me bein' wishy-washy. Got to be strong -- good Christian example. An' the last couple of years, Mama an' Papa gettin' older an' ever'thing, somebody's had do things for them. I've got use to doin' it -- my Christian duty. But I don' like the feelin' of ... doubtin' an' wonderin'. At night when I go to bed, I start gettin' scared about what I said or did that day ... frettin' about what I'll have to say or do the next day ... worryin' if things are gonna turn out all right. Oh, I put my trust in the Lord -- least I try do. But ...
(A beat)
It gets awful lonely, Penny ... at night when it's real dark an' quiet. That's when I cry sometimes. And I know I'm sinnin' 'cause I'm not trustin' Jesus like I should or I wouldn' be filled with all-a that doubt. He's willin' to take care of ever'thing, if I just turn it over to him ...
(A beat)
Well, enough of that. Pity never paid the rent. An' the rent is always due.
(Lights burner and sets coffee pot on range)
I'll fix the coffee for 'im. Maybe that'll he'p.
penny
Ellen, I know things have been difficult for you ... but I want to tell you, you've got two great kids.
ellen
Praise be to God. Oh, Deb'rah Jean's got a way of bleachin' out the facts sometimes. She'll outgrow that, I reckin. And Haro's never any trouble. Sasses a little, but I'll get that out of 'im ...
penny
I don't agree with some of your ways of doing things -- but who am I to criticize? They're really good kids.
ellen
Mama an' Papa've helped out with them two. Haro's been comin' over most ever' Saturday t' help with things. Deb'rah Jean usu'lly comes, too. Drop'em off on my way to work, pick'em up when I get off. Mama even wanted to take the kids on vacation with'em next summer.
penny
Really? Never knew Mama and Papa to ever consider taking a vacation.
ellen
Mama wanted to go back to Alabama -- see where she'd lived as a little girl. Four, five weeks -- go on the train. Wanted me to go too, but I couldn' get off-a work that long ...
penny
It would have been a great trip for the kids.
ellen
They would-a liked it.
penny
But you're the biggest influence on them.
ellen
I just hope they're gonna be strong enough.
penny
They will be.
ellen
Don' know if anybidy ever is.
(A beat)
Are you?
penny
Sometimes. Not always.
ellen
Hm. I figgered things just always went real good for you.
penny
I've got a good job -- nice friends. I'm thankful for that.
ellen
But you still miss havin' your husban', don't you?
penny
I miss Ted very much. Do you know he's been gone seven years now?
ellen
Didn' realize it'd been that long.
penny
I've had men friends -- even a couple of chances to get married again. I couldn't do it. I start making comparisons ...
ellen
Wish I'd ever got to meet him.
penny
Sometimes I feel like I hardly knew him myself -- like that part of my life was just a dream I had, long time ago. Soon as we got married he was off to places I'd never heard of. Bombing missions over enemy territory -- that's all I knew. But the worst thing is not knowing what ever happened to him. His plane went out -- didn't come back. Just ... gone. Charley and J.B. -- at least we know how they died.
ellen
Blown to smithereens by a torpedo? I'd as soon I didn' know.
penny
And now this mess over in Korea.
ellen
"Police action," Truman calls it. Looks mighty like war to me. Appears the devil's doin' all he can to make sure no American boy has a chance to grow up whole an' peaceful anymore.
penny
Ted and I laughed a lot. I miss that. He could see something funny in so many things. Even in his letters, in the middle of war, he'd have something funny to write about.
ellen
Don't know if I could take somebody like that. 'Course, you always had an easier time laughin' than I did. I use to think you an' Laura led some kind of charmed lives. Y'all wanted to go to college an' do other things. That didn' seem importan' to me.
penny
Going a few miles down the road to Texas Tech wasn't exactly setting off for the far corners of the world.
ellen
Might as well of been, far as I knew. Guess I'm still not sure the world exists outside of Lynn County. When people you love go off an' never come back, you finally figure somethin' else is goin' on out there.
penny
Most of the world is out there -- somewhere else. And it's very different than here.
ellen
One time, maybe I would of wanted to know about it. Too late now -- for me, anyhow. Cain't imagine bein' any place but right here.
penny
Ellen! Come visit me!
ellen
What?
penny
See what it's like where I live. See another part of the world!
ellen
Visit you? My word, I cain't imagine ... just cain't at all imagine what it'd be like to go that far away --
penny
(Overlapping/interrupting)
You and the kids -- and Papa, of course. I'd really like that.
ellen
Big city like Alameda? California? My goodness, I'd get lost an' wander right off into the water, prob'ly. Aint never seen the ocean.
penny
Oh, I wish you would. Please think about it.
ellen
Took the bus up to Amarilla once -- to visit Laura.
penny
That's as far as you've gone?
ellen
Fort Worth one time, but ... naw, I'm done with earthly journeys, I think.
penny
Please do come.
ellen
Travelin' like that -- that's somethin' other people do. But I do wonder 'bout my kids. You think they're gonna want to end up some place else? I hate to think they might want to leave here someday. Deb'rah Jean could marry some nice farm boy 'round here. But Haro ... I don' know about him. He cain't farm, bein' crippled an' all. Don' know what he'll do.
penny
I noticed he's using his arm and hand now. He didn't use to.
ellen
Yeah, that arm use to be dead weight on him. Here recently he's gettin' some use out of it ...
penny
And he's walking better.
ellen
Real answer to prayer.
penny
There are a lot of things a man can do that don't demand two good arms and two good legs.
ellen
For a while now, he's been sayin' he wants to be a writer.
penny
He'd be good at that.
ellen
But what does a writer do? How does anybody write enough words to fill up a whole stack of pages? Outside the Bible, do we really need so much stuff written down?
penny
He'll do fine. You don't have to worry about him.
ellen
Sure hope I've been able to give them somethin' worthwhile to take through life.
penny
Those kids love you. And they do appreciate you.
(A beat)
And I appreciate you.
ellen
You do?
penny
I'm glad you've been here, near Mama and Papa, helping them ...
ellen
Didn't see I had much choice, I reckin, ‘specially with Charliean' J. B. not comin' back.
(penny goes to Ellen, reaches out, hesitantly, and puts her hand on Ellen's arm. ellen pulls back a bit at the touch, but then lets it happen.)
(continuing) ellen (continuing)
What you doin'?
penny
I want to touch you, Ellen.
ellen
Why would anybody wanna touch me?
penny
I want to be close to you.
(penny pulls ellen into an embrace.)
ellen
Guess it's been a long, long time since we were this close.
(The awkward embrace lasts a few seconds before ellen moves away. she gets three cups and a sugar bowl from the cabinet, goes to the refrigerator and gets a pitcher of cream and a bowl of butter. she takes a pot from the range and pours coffee into the cups, sets the pot on the range and turns the burner off. she puts cream and sugar in one cup. From the cabinet she takes a loaf of bread and slices off a thick piece, starts buttering it.)
(continuing) ellen (continuing)
Haro?
(offstage) haro (offstage)
Yes ma'am?
ellen
Come here.
(haro appears in the US doorway.)
(continuing) ellen (continuing)
Take this coffee out to your gran'pa.
haro
Yes ma'am.
(ellen hands haro the cup with cream and sugar. he takes it in his right hand and turns to leave.)
ellen
Wait, son. Here.
(ellen picks up the slice of buttered bread and hands it to haro. he reaches for the bread with his left hand, grasping it with some difficulty.)