Sam Pink - The Self-Esteem Holocaust Comes Home

SOMEONE ELSE IN THE CROWD: [coughing] You guys, I hate to say it, but I think neutering is when you cut off someone’s ears.

SOMEONE ELSE: Yeah, I thought so too. I was going to say something.

The janitor frowns, rubs his chin. He cuts off the ears and everything else on the ballerina’s face. There’s much more smoke in the garage.

THE JANITOR: Ok [hands up, fingers splayed, still holding scissors] Is everyone happy?

The crowd is quiet. Couch fire has a sound though.

SOMEONE ELSE IN THE CROWD: Yeah, I’m good.

SOMEONE ELSE: Me too. I’m good.

One of the priests steps forward.

PRIEST: [nervous] But, God won’t let him into Heaven without a recognizable face.

No one answers. Everyone leaves, the couch burning hard. The janitor opens the garage door and a wet breeze balances the heat, ushering out a canopy of smoke along the ceiling. The last of the people leave with the smoke. When the smoke’s gone, only the janitor and one of the priests remain. She and the janitor move the couch out of the garage, each on one leg using the other leg to give a quick push. They hold hands to stay balanced and eventually it is out in the backyard. They stare at the flames. Quiet in the backyard.

THE JANITOR: Want to go for a walk? I don’t think I’m going to be able to sleep right now.

PRIEST: Sure.

The janitor offers the priest a hand.

PRIEST: [putting hands in pockets] No thanks.

THE JANITOR: [looking at crumpled body on the flaming couch] There is still a thing called the world.

PRIEST: [looking out vaguely towards the front yard] There is still no way to tell where you are at on the curve.

THE JANITOR: There is still no way to think about there not being a world [staring at the flaming couch] Let’s go. I want to eventually be able to sleep. The thing called the world will put out the fire on the couch.

They walk out of the backyard and down the driveway. The night is warm and light purple and almost done.

THE JANITOR: Something about right now makes me want to jump straight into the air and float away without saying goodbye to anyone.

The priest says nothing. And they pass two girls standing beneath the trim of the house, sharing a bottle. The two girls standing beneath the trim walk the opposite way, towards the flaming couch. One is dressed as her own grandmother and the other as a police officer. They walk up to the mangled corpse and watch it burn.

GRANDMOTHER: Is that a boy doggy or a girl doggy?

POLICE OFFICER: [puts face closer] I don’t know, but I know it’s not a doggy.

They watch the body burn and turn black with the couch. And the grandmother takes a wrist out of the fire then puts the broken fingers up to her chin.

GRANDMOTHER: [trying to keep the bloody bones away from her mouth] Hmmm. Am I a boy or girl? Or am I doggy? Who knows [shaking broken fingers] Hmmmm.

She gets some blood in her mouth, spits. They laugh.

POLICE OFFICER: [laughing] Jesus H.

GRANDMOTHER: [shaking the broken fingers at the police officer] Hey! Be a good girl, or satan will rape you in hell [swallows, then begins to cough violently] Fuck. Oh fuck. It’s in my mouth.

The grandmother hunches over, coughing and gagging. She shakes and the police officer holds her until eventually she vomits out half of a very large jawbone. It hits the ground by their feet. And the grandmother wipes off the bile that hangs from her teeth, using her forearm.

POLICE OFFICER: [still holding her] Are you done?

The grandmother touches her throat and hacks some more.

GRANDMOTHER: Yeah. I’m good [spits] Thanks.

POLICE OFFICER: [nervous, looking at jawbone on the grass] You feel better right?

GRANDMOTHER: [still touching throat] Yeah. I feel great. Uh huh. [spits] Better.

The police officer kicks the jawbone beneath a bush. Looks in its direction.

POLICE OFFICER: [nodding] I thought you looked sick tonight. I’m glad you feel better though. I was worried all night.

GRANDMOTHER: [coughing a little, raspy] You were right [makes face and begins to scratch underneath skirt] You were definitely right. Fuck [still scratching underneath skirt] My legs itch. I need to shave [looks at her friend] Can you shave me? Can you shave my legs? I always cut myself bad. And then I feel weak and alone. The cuts are sometimes hard to keep clean. Can you do it? I know you will shave me good. I believe in you.

POLICE OFFICER: Get a razor. Do you have a razor? I’ll do it if you get a razor and I don’t have to move.

GRANDMOTHER: No wait [walks off] Here.

The grandmother takes the police officer by the hand, to the bush. They reach into the bush searching, and the grandmother retrieves the jawbone. She throws it against the driveway and the teeth break away, making the inside curve sharp. She throws it against the ground more, then picks it up. Soon she holds it against the mild sky light, bone now thinned and curved acutely. The grandmother puts her hand on the hose faucet. She turns on the hose and lets it run by their feet while they mud her legs completely with cupped handfuls. Grass floats in the pooling. Grass covers their bare feet. The rain lightens to being gone. And the grandmother puts her hand on the police officer’s shoulder, balancing.

GRANDMOTHER: Good [looks at her friend] now, will you be a gentle boy? I’m just asking. Don’t get offended. Will you be a gentle boy?

POLICE OFFICER: I’m not a boy silly. I’m a girl. And yes, I will. My mom taught me how to be gentle while hurting someone. Hand that to me and I promise I will be a good boy, I mean girl [laughs] I mean I will help you.

GRANDMOTHER: [hands jawbone over] Thank you for doing this [wobbling] I’m glad you’re helping me.

POLICE OFFICER: Fine.

The police officer begins shaving in long motions up and down the grandmother’s legs. Red blotches show beneath the mud. The grandmother clenches up. Pissing a little, she begins to moan. Then she pisses even harder. The police officer shaves her, upper thighs down to the tops of the feet. More cuts form. And the police officer uses the hose to douse the cuts.

POLICE OFFICER: [looking up] Your veins are not helping you now huh.

GRANDMOTHER: [in strangely deep voice] Then your mouth will you fucking pervert. Clean me off you fucking pervert bastard. Clean me even when you’re done.

The police officer runs her hand up the leg and puts her fingers into the grandmother, grandmother again pissing hard.

GRANDMOTHER: [head back, eyes closed, loud] Clean me off you fucking pervert bastard.

The police officer puts her fingers all the way in. Then she takes her fingers out and puts them into the wet grass and mud. She lifts her muddy fingers and pushes them into the grandmother again. Neither looks at the other. The hose is still running. The grandmother still pissing, taking huge breaths and moaning.

GRANDMOTHER: [looking down, eyes barely open, destroyed] I fucking hate you. Clean off my cuts, you fucking pervert. You fucking pervert bastard. Clean them out [screams] Wipe them off.

The police officer doesn’t respond. She takes a handful of mud and forces it into the grandmother. Then wipes her fingers on the grass. They stare at each other. Both kneel next to each other, and drink water from the pooling on the lawn.

GRANDMOTHER: [stopping, turning] We are doggies. Don’t you think?

POLICE OFFICER: You’re welcome [wipes mouth, stands]

The grandmother stands too, leaking mud down her legs. She smears it with her hand.

GRANDMOTHER: Thanks.

POLICE OFFICER: I know. I know.

They walk to the front yard. The grandmother sits on the front step, watching the street, with the police officer standing next to her, arms crossed. It’s morning. And across the street, a young girl dressed like a princess sits on the curb, picking through a plastic pumpkin filled with candy. She waves from across the street and they wave back to her.