Legacy
Scene 3
Place: The Delasole’s family room.
There is a large screen above the stage. The place is still a mess.
Michael and Tammy enter from stage
left. Michael is already speaking.
Michael: All right. Now will you
tell me what’s been distracting you all through dinner?
Tammy: Well, you’re never going to believe this, but my Dad
kept a journal.
Michael: A journal?
Tammy: Yep. He could never open up to us, but surprise!
Stick a pen in his hand, and he couldn’t shut up!
Michael: Really? So, what did he have to
say?
Tammy: A lot! I’ll let you go through it yourself later,
but – well, I was just getting into some of the good stuff when you came home.
Let’s see… (roots through some papers on the desk)
…well, here, let’s see what he had to say about Doug. (Reads) “
As Tammy reads, we hear Charles’ voice take
over and a scene begins to appear on the screen: Charles and Doug,
age 16, are sitting by a campfire, talking. We don’t hear their dialogue; only Charles’
narration. Tammy and Michael move and sit on the love seat.
Charles’ voice: ….if we spent enough time
together. He thought when he was younger it would have been nice to have me
home more and spend more time with him. He thought that Tammy resented my being
gone so much. She said that I really didn’t like her and tried to avoid her. I
explained that I loved her and wanted to be more a part of her life. I just
wasn’t sure how to go about it.
Tammy: Oh? What about showing up once in a while? Saying
something nice about me? (Pauses) Oh, I can’t believe it! They talked
about God!
Charles’ voice: Then Doug wanted to know what I
thought about God. That took me off guard.
Tammy: I’ll bet!
Charles’ voice: He wanted to know whether I had a
personal relationship with Jesus. Some of his friends had invited him to their
youth group at the
The scene fades.
Tammy: Well, I have to admit that I don’t think I could have
explained it to Doug either. In fact, I’m worried about Doug. I really don’t
know if he’s a Christian or not. Michael, I know what I went through in college
when I became a Christian, but I’m not sure I’ve ever explained that
relationship very well to anyone. What about you? You’ve been a Christian a lot
longer than me. How would you have explained it to Doug?
Michael: Wow. You have a way of asking tough questions, don’t
you? (Stands and thinks a moment) Okay. I would have told him that God
that created him and loved him. Like the rest of us, Doug sinned against God
the first time he broke one of God’s commands. You know, like the first time he
lied, or said something hateful, or disobeyed your parents.
Tammy: Or like whenever he tickled me until I was sick?
Michael: Really? He did that? Well, his sins cut his
connection with God. God’s perfect; Doug isn’t, I’m not. Tammy, like the rest
of us, Doug could never make that right – ever.
Tammy: Ouch!
Michael: Someone who had never broken God’s law would have to
die in his place to reestablish the connection. Who could do that? Nobody! So
God Himself came to earth as a baby named Jesus. He lived a life just like everybody
else, except He never sinned. What’s the catch? Doug would have to trust Jesus
as the only one who could save him from the punishment he deserved.
Tammy: Yeah. Okay. But how do you explain developing a
personal relationship with Jesus Christ? That’s what Doug wanted to know.
Michael: Well – ah – okay, you have a personal relationship
with
Tammy: We talk. If one of us is traveling for a while we
email each other. We always make sure we read those emails to know what’s going
on. We don’t base our friendship on what we can do for each other. It’s more
about enjoying each other’s company. But that seems a lot different from having
a personal relationship with Jesus. You can’t see Him and He doesn’t talk to
you out loud – at least not to me.
Michael: (Sits) Granted,
there’s not a perfect correlation, but it’s still a little like that with
Jesus. When we pray we talk to Him and when we read what He tells us in the
Bible, He talks to us, deep inside, through the Holy Spirit. When we listen for
God during your prayers, sometimes we feel as if God is leading us to a
particular task or activity. But as you said, you spend time with
Tammy: I think I see.
Michael: With
Tammy: I never thought of it like that.
Michael: And I would have tried to make Doug understand that
I wasn’t talking about a religion, but a way of life. It would become deeper
ant more exciting the more he pursued it. (Pauses to think) I wonder if
his friends at the
Tammy: I don’t know. I’ve never talked to him about it.
Michael: Neither have
Tammy: Yeah. Yeah, I think I’d like that.
Michael: Great! So, what else is there?
Tammy: What? Oh, well, let’s see. (Goes
to the desk to get another notebook. Looks
through some pages.) Oh! Oh, this should be good! “
Michael: Does he say why?
Tammy: He hated me, that’s why!
Michael: Honey, I really don’t think he hated you. What does
he say?
Tammy: (
As she reads, Charles’ voice begins to take over and
a new scene fades in on the screen: Charles and Tammy, age 16, in
a living room. Tammy is in a prom dress. She and Charles are
arguing. Once again, we can’t hear their dialogue, only Charles’ narration.
Charles’ voice: …I’m not trying to ruin her life.
I’m just concerned about her safety. I guess her date – I think his name’s Sean
– he’s nice enough, but even nice boys have hormones. What we don’t need right
now is a pregnant daughter.
Tammy: Pregnant! What kind of girl did he think I was?
Charles’ voice: I wish she understood how much I
love her and how concerned I am for her safety. It was hard enough going
through this with Doug. Carol told me about the things Doug and his friends
talked about. I can imagine what it’s like now, only a few years later. And I
look at Tammy, and I see how she’s turning into such a beautiful young woman –
just like Carol. It scares me when I think of all the things she’ll be facing.
Have I prepared her for the young men she’ll meet? I hope so, yet I’m not sure.
I saw her tonight, and this doubt haunts me. I’m afraid I’ve failed her.
(The scene on the screen fades.)
Tammy: I don’t remember that being part of our
conversation. But he never did explain himself, at least not very often,
especially when it came to feelings.
Michael: I’m not surprised. You know how hard it is for me sometimes,
and from what I knew of your Dad, it was probably like – like trying to grab
hold of them and drag them out. I think it’s partly the way we guys are wired.
Even when we try, it sometimes comes out all wrong, and we’re scared of what
it’s going to do to our relationships with the women we love the most. It
sounds like your Dad never really learned how to open up to anyone.
Tammy: Yeah. He even mentions in some of his earlier
entries how Granddad raised him and my uncle to be stoics and hide their weaknesses.
Michael: There. You see? What else have you got in there?
Tammy: (gets another notebook from the
desk) Mmm…oh, here, this should be
interesting. “
Charles’ voice again takes over and the
screen lights up with a scene of Tammy in college giving a recital. Michael
sits in the front row, gazing at her.
Charles’ voice: I was finally able to be there, at
least for most of it. My meeting ran late – of course – but I really did try. I
tried to sneak in as quietly as I could, but the door slipped out of my hand.
It didn’t bang all that hard, but Tammy saw me and looked daggers at me and I
knew I’d hear about it later. I did, of course. But I’m used to that by now.
Anyway, it was a terrific recital. Of course, I didn’t know
any of the music she sang, but I could listen to her voice for hours. I’m so
proud of her.
I saw they young man she told Carol about, Michael Delasole, in the front row. I knew him right away, even
though we didn’t meet until after the concert. Carol said Tammy had gone to him
for help with the pronunciation in the Italian songs she was singing, because
he’s an assistant professor or something in the language department, teaching
Italian. I saw how he was looking at her, and I thought at first he was making
sure she was pronouncing all the words right. But then I saw the expression on
his face, and how he smiled every time she looked his way, and I knew – I just
knew – he was falling in love with her.
Then I saw them together after the concert and I could tell
she was falling for him, too. And I just knew that he wasn’t like any of her
other boyfriends. Of course, Carol said she’d seen it coming long ago, when I
told her later.
I don’t know what to think. I guess I always knew this time
would come eventually. I just hoped we could get to know each other a little
better before I had to give her away and watch her walk out of my life and into
someone else’s. Maybe I can spend some more time with her between now and…well,
when she gets married. If she’ll let me.
(Scene fades)
Tammy: I remember that. He didn’t seem surprised at all when
we announced our engagement at Christmas that year. And he did spend more time
with me. He even drove down here a couple times each month just to have
breakfast with me. I thought it was pretty weird at first, but I really started
liking it. I think that was the best time I ever had with him. We didn’t even fight
as much.
Michael: I remember you seemed so much happier with your
family during our engagement.
Tammy: (retrieves the last notebook from
the desk) Oh!
Michael: What?
Tammy: Oh, Michael. He wrote about our wedding day. I don’t
think I can….Could you read this for me? Please? (She sits)
Michael: Sure. Let me see. (Scans the pages) Oh. Oh,
my. Do you remember his speech at our reception? “And so it begins. The beginning of the rest of your life. You have become a
beautiful young woman. I wish you and Michael well.”
Tammy: Yes. I was so disappointed. Even Doug’s speech was
better than that.
Michael: Well, listen to this. Wait. Let me back up a little.
(Charles appears on stage, sitting at the desk, where he picks up a
pen and a notebook and starts writing. Michael and Tammy continue
as though he weren’t there; this is clearly another flashback.) Let’s see.
Ah, here. “At the reception, I tried not to cry like I did in the church. But
she was just so beautiful. It reminded me so much….”
Charles: (As he writes) It reminded me so much of when Carol and I got married, and
how I thought no one could be as perfect as her. I was wrong. Tammy was every
bit as perfect as her mother. I wanted so much to tell her how much I loved
her, but when it came time, I choked. I couldn’t read my own speech. If I
could, though, this is what I would have said:
(Charles stands and pantomimes picking up a glass,
continuing as though he were offering a toast at a wedding)
And so it begins. The beginning of the rest of your life. You have become a beautiful young woman. I remember when your Mom said, “It’s time!” She was so excited. She just knew you were a girl. “A mother’s intuition”, she called it. Wishful thinking, I called it. She already had one rambunctious 3-year-old boy; she wasn’t ready for another.
I remember holding my breath until the Doctor came out and
said all was well. I remember smiling at you and promising you that it would be
different for us. I remember the shame and guilt I felt the first time I broke
that promise. The funny thing is, I don’t remember
what took me away that first time. But I do remember that there was less shame
and guilt the second time. By your first birthday, our pattern was established.
I remember wanting so badly for things to be different, but not knowing how to
achieve that. I remember hurtful things my own father said and wanting not to
repeat those situations. Children learn the things they are taught. I remember
birthdays when I would reflect on how fast a year had gone by, yet I knew that
I had not put forth my best effort.
I remember wanting to connect with the teenager who took
over my stereo, my phone, and eventually my car. I remember missing your high
school graduation, but I don’t remember the name of the client I was with. I remember
being overwhelmed by your amazing voice on stage at your college recital. I
remember being chastised by you later for slipping in late and letting the
auditorium door slam.
I remember all the opportunities I never acted on. I
remember every last look of hurt and disappointment that crossed your face. I
remember wanting so badly to tell you how sorry I was. I remember my father
saying real men don’t apologize.
I will remember for the rest of my life the little girl who
became a woman in my own house – the one event for which I have no solid
memories.
I wish you a life of happiness, despite what you have
learned. I wish you success with all you do. Your career.
Your children.
I wish you and Michael well.
(Charles backs away from the desk and disappears
backstage as Michael slowly closes the notebook and lays it aside. Tammy
is quietly crying. Michael pulls her close to him. After a moment, Tammy
wipes her eyes and looks up.)
Tammy: Oh, Michael. I didn’t know. I didn’t know. All these
years, and I thought he….Oh, Michael, what can I do?
Michael: I think the first thing you have to do is forgive
him.
Tammy: Forgive him? How, Michael? He’s gone! He….(starts crying again)
Michael: (Comforting her) I know, honey, I know. (Thinks
for a moment as he goes to get Tammy a tissue) Tam, you remember
seeing the pictures of my cousin, Antonio? We got mad at each other when we
were in junior high school and didn’t speak to each other for years. I don’t
think either of us could remember why. We’d been raised as Christians and knew
it was wrong, but we never did anything about it. I went off to college. Then,
after a couple of years, Pop called to tell me Antonio’d
been in an accident at the factory, and all of a sudden it didn’t matter any
more. He was gone, and I could never make it right with him. I felt so guilty,
Tam, like I’d killed him somehow. I couldn’t even look at him at the
visitation.
Pop found me. I was sitting in the dark, back behind the
funeral home, crying like I was a kid again. He held me, and I told him
everything. And he told me I had to forgive Antonio. And I asked him how, just
like you did. And he tapped me on the chest and said, “In here, Michael. It
doesn’t matter if he’s gone. He’s still in here. That’s where you have to
forgive him. He’ll know, but more important, you’ll know.”
I’ve thought a lot about it since then, Tam. And I think Pop
was trying to tell me that forgiving Antonio was something I had to do for me,
even if Antonio would never hear it from my own lips.
Tammy: What did you do?
Michael: (Sits) Well, when Pop went back into the
funeral home, I asked God to forgive me for holding a grudge against Antonio,
then I told Antonio in my heart that I forgave him for whatever he’d done to
me, and asked him to forgive me, and I told him I loved him. And then I went
back in and I said goodbye to him.
Tammy: And that did it? Just like that?
Michael: No. But it was a start. And now, whenever I think of
him, I think of all the good things growing up with him.
Tammy sits in silence for a moment.
Tammy: (slowly) There were
good things with my dad. And I really did love him, Michael.
Michael: I know you did.
Tammy gets up and goes over to the
desk. She stands looking at it, touching it tentatively.
Michael: (Stands) I’m going to go make coffee for us,
hon.
Tammy nods distractedly and Michael
quietly exits stage left. After a moment, Tammy kneels and prays.
Tammy: Dear God, I’ve been hanging on to this resentment
against my father for years. It’s gotten in the way of my relationship with
him, and with you, and even with Doug and Michael. I’ve never wanted kids,
because I didn’t want to hurt them the same way my dad – the way I thought my
dad had hurt me. I was – I’ve been wrong, God. I need you to forgive me, so I
can forgive him and myself. (Pause) Thank you. Amen. (Stands)
Daddy, there were so many times I wanted you, I needed you, and you weren’t there. I understand a little better now, but it still hurts. For so many years I wondered why, why you were like that. I’m – I’m grateful that you wrote these things, and that God let me find them.
(As Tammy talks, Charles gradually enters
behind her and stands, watching her.)
Daddy, I’m sorry for the way I treated you. And I forgive
you. I forgive you for not always being there when I needed you. I really did
love you, Daddy. I do love you. I hope you knew that. Even
if I couldn’t tell you.
(She becomes aware that she’s stroking the top of the desk
and smiles.)
Daddy, did you know how much I resented this old desk? I blamed it for holding you and keeping you away from me. But you were writing your journals here, too, weren’t you? Did you know I would find them? Is this why you left me this desk with the rest of the stuff in the house? Was this your way of telling me the things you couldn’t tell me when I was growing up?
I can’t hate this desk any more, Daddy. Now I’m not sure I
could ever get rid of it. I just don’t know what to do.
Tammy continues to stroke the top of the
desk, still deep in thought. When Charles speaks, she doesn’t turn
around; clearly she’s hearing this in her own mind.
Charles: Tammy, honey, it’s just a desk. An
old bunch of wood and screws, not even worth ten dollars any more. It’s not
important. What’s important is that you know, you finally know how much you
meant to me, how much I love you. That what I want to leave
you, Tammy. That’s my legacy to you.
As he finishes, Charles slowly backs away and
disappears. Tammy looks at the desk a moment more, smiling softly. Then
she resolutely picks through a few of the notebooks until she finds one that
hasn’t been used yet and gets a pen from an end table. She takes these over to
the desk where she sits, opens the notebook, and starts writing.
Tammy: “The journal of Tammy Barnett Delasole.
Dedicated to my father, Charles Barnett, and to my husband,
Michael Delasole.” (Pauses, then continues)
“And to my future children.”