Sam Pink - The Self-Esteem Holocaust Comes Home

THE DRIVER: [staring forward, equal emphasis on each word] I said no swearing in the car.

They stop at another stoplight, this one hung from a sagging wire. The car blooms red and remains red with the stoplight. All three stare at the red bulb. The area they are in now is a little darker but the procession of powerlines can still be seen far off, connecting nothing. The man with the ripped face bleeds down his neck.

THE DRIVER: [still staring at the bulb] When someone is bleeding, that is good, right. That means there is life. That means you are turning inside out [looks at the man with the ripped face but addresses the man in the backseat] I don’t smell him dying yet. The blood that is coming out of his face smells good. I don’t even mind that it is ruining my car. The car that, yes, I recently vacuumed. We should go somewhere where we can help him. Help him to fix his face. It looks all weird right? Maybe we can make his face normal again. Normal faces rule the world. You don’t hear anything about ugly faces [addressing the man with the ripped face] You want to fix your face up? What should we do — it’s up to you [laughs] That sounds like a song [singing] ‘What should we do, it’s up to you.’ Alright let’s go then [drives off] I have seen so many faces, it will be easy to make yours look similar [slowly] I promise I will do my best.

THE MAN FROM THE LIGHTLESSNESS IN THE BACKSEAT: [looking out the back windshield at the red light of the powerlines] We are professionals at creating believable human faces.

The road curves. They go further into the forest preserve. Redness from the powerlines alternates with the blackness of the woods.

THE MAN WITH THE RIPPED FACE: Yeah man [swallowing, he convulses] Yeah. Fix me. Don’t leave me. Please don’t kill me. You can fix me [coughing all over] Fuck [he curls up] Alright. Somebody tuck me in. Reach out the window and pull off some branches and sew them all together. I’m cold. I’m a hopeless adolescent. I haven’t gone through puberty yet. I’m dying [moans, hits head against window, repeatedly] We don’t have to figure out what happens to your skeleton, we just have to keep mine warm.

They turn and go down an even darker road. The man from the lightlessness in the backseat returns to the lightlessness. His face then only visible in red pulses. The woods sway black around them.

THE MAN FROM THE LIGHTLESSNESS IN THE BACKSEAT: Even though this car is moving, I know I am not. I am not moving at all, the car is moving [pauses] But it feels good to be out with other people now, you know? Even though one of them is dying and ruining the car. Thanks to both of you. I mean that. Sometimes I forget how much other people help me. How much they mean to me. I’m not even lying to you right now. I really like that you guys are here. I am trying to be less negative about life [taps headrest with balled fist] This is Step One right here.

THE DRIVER: [nods to the man with the ripped face] Hey check the glovebox and see if there’s any gum in there. There should be a pack of gum in there. I just bought one.

The man with the ripped face opens the glovebox. He searches with one hand and holds the torn-cheek together with his other hand.

THE MAN WITH THE RIPPED FACE: My blood tastes thin. Like, it tastes so thin. It seems really thin in my mouth [shuffling things in glovebox] But I mean, I kind of like the way it tastes. Is that good or bad? I don’t see the gum. Saying things out loud is a way to let other people think about them. Is that good or bad?

THE DRIVER: [evenly] We’ll fix your face when you check for the gum.

THE MAN WITH THE RIPPED FACE: [shuffles things around in the glovebox again] Nah, there’s [clears nose] there’s only the empty pack and those little paper sleeve things.

THE DRIVER: [eyes still forward, equal emphasis on each word] What happened to it? Did you take a piece or two when I wasn’t looking?

THE MAN WITH THE RIPPED FACE: I don’t know. I really can’t remember. Please help me. I can’t take it. I really can’t take it. Great, I just forgot my middle name. Do I even have a middle name? I am never going to be able to smile the same way again. There is no pain in that though [his pale hand shaking over the wound] But I do need help. Really.

THE MAN FROM THE LIGHTLESSNESS IN THE BACKSEAT: [toneless] You will do better in life if you don’t smile. Something has already been fixed there. I promise that.

The driver turns off the headlights and drives, accessing a gravel road. All of the men then visible only when the powerlines go red.

THE DRIVER: [firmly, to the man with the ripped face] Maybe you should kill yourself if it hurts so bad. I’ll start driving really fast and you can jump out of the car [pointing for emphasis] That — will kill you [pause] You are so selfish and greedy. Just like with the gum. The gum is proof. If it hurts so bad then do it, jump out and break your body on a tree. Then, thank me. No wait, thank me in advance [clears throat and sits up straighter in seat] Or, you can start writing the note, the one we leave on your body when we pull over and drop you off [patting thigh of the man with the ripped face] And be nice if you want someone to adopt you [smiling] Hey you can even write your little note with the paper sleeves left over from the gum you stole [teasing] You greedy greedy man. Anyway so, we’ve given you some options.

THE MAN FROM THE LIGHTLESSNESS IN THE BACKSEAT: [leans forward] And I’ll watch out the back windshield to make sure it is real, when you hit the tree and die. We can bury you and water the ground where you are, so you become such a big big tree — the tallest [taps shoulder of the man with the ripped face] And I’m still offering to write the note. I’ll start it off like, ‘Dear sir or madam, please help me. I’m an orphan, and as you can see my face is ripped in half. I can’t smile, but I’m smiling inside.’

THE DRIVER: [puts both hands on the wheel, car slows — red light more intense, closer] Oh, I definitely like that. We’ll use that, I can’t think of anything better than that. Good job.

They are quiet. The driver parks beneath a powerline and watches the person next to him hold his face together. In every pulse of red light they appear as red faces.

THE DRIVER: [staring at the man with the ripped face] Your face is all red. There is red all over it. Does that make it hurt more? Can you feel the red on your face? Is it heavy?

THE MAN WITH THE RIPPED FACE: [panicked] Huh? What is it? What’s happening? [points] It’s on you too. Can you feel it? What does it feel like? It’s getting very heavy now [touches face with both hands, looks at hands and wipes them off on seat]

THE DRIVER: [staring at powerlines, gesturing slowly] It’s just the lights [turns to the man with the ripped face] It’s just the lights [softly] Another thing I believe is that the lights are all the ghosts of people you have known. It’s just the lights. That’s all it is.

THE MAN WITH THE RIPPED FACE: It feels like it’s on me. Is it on me? Now I’m afraid. Afraid I’ll be red forever [squirms in seat] It’s too heavy.

The driver touches the red on his own face, with his fingertips, staring at the man with the ripped face.

THE DRIVER: [calmly] It’s just the lights. They are the ghosts of the people you have known. A ghost is something someone told you that you still remember. It’s just the lights right? [laughs]

The man with the ripped face is quiet. He brings a sleeve to his mouth and tries to dry his teeth.

THE MAN WITH THE RIPPED FACE: I don’t want to think about ghosts.

THE DRIVER: Sorry. I know how you are [grabs his shoulder] Are you ok though? Tell me if you’re not ok, my very special friend. Do you feel special today? You look really bad but you’re just as special as ever. I mean that. If I had a chart of how special you have been to me, it would have to be a — a really big piece of paper [points for emphasis] That’s how special [toneless, staring at red powerline light] We are making ghosts together.