Sam Pink - The Self-Esteem Holocaust Comes Home

MALE GHOST: Where is the younger, less self-sufficient human? I am becoming jealous of him because he is receiving more attention from you than I am. He gets to have you as his mommy for a little bit. Where is he? I want to see if he is superior to me and worthy of your attention. Can we burn him? Where is he?

FEMALE GHOST: [scratching her knee] He’s in his room playing with blocks. He imagines that he makes the blocks into things. He told me he builds cities and when he can see every face in the city, he rolls over it all. He told me that before you came over. Before you came over, he was being a very nice boy to me.

MALE GHOST: [looking at her, serious] We should kill him. [pauses, puts his hand on her leg] I mean it. I’m jealous. You are too important to me for me to lose. I don’t want to lose you. Please.

With hand still on her knee, the male ghost kneels.

FEMALE GHOST: [avoiding eye contact] No, we can’t do that. I mean I thought about it but I’m supposed to be watching him, making sure he is safe. That would be the opposite. Do you understand that? [staring at him] It just came to me earlier [combs the male ghost’s hair with her fingers] Sucks I know. But I have to be his mommy for a little bit.

MALE GHOST: [looks around, pauses] We should teach him about ghosts then yeah? [tapping her legs with his open hands, soft] Otherwise, he won’t know about them. If he doesn’t know about them, he will fear them [face of unfortunate reason] And since they are everywhere — well he’d be afraid all the time. I really think we should. I really think yeah?

FEMALE GHOST: Well, first [she stops combing his hair] My hug meter is low. My hug meter is dangerously low — and, I just wish I knew someone who could help me.

The male ghost leans up to her, his waist between her legs. They hug, her on the couch, him still kind of kneeling. The hug is annoying to them both.

FEMALE GHOST: I lied. I don’t have a hug meter. You’re fucking stupid [her finger jabbing his cheek] You don’t know anything about ghosts [still jabbing] Who taught you? Who taught you huh? [her face is close to his now] You, are in my control.

The male ghost pushes her fingers and face away. Then he stands.

MALE GHOST: There is no such thing as a mutual hug. You taught me that [dismissive] Now, let’s teach the younger, less self-sufficient human about ghosts. He will thank us.

The male ghost extends his hand and the female ghost puts hers around it.

FEMALE GHOST: [smiles and nods] We will teach the younger less self-sufficient human about ghosts [stands] Maybe he will not thank us. But that is ok. You shouldn’t get thanked for everything you do. You should just do things.

MALE GHOST: [smells her hand] Thank you for another lesson.

They go into an adjoining room and return with sheets. They scissor out eyeholes and dress each other with the sheets, adjusting the eyeholes while laughing. The sheets make their voices sound static-thin, as if produced by an old radio. And they do test sounds and they look at each other, unable to recognize anything through the eyeholes. Then they hug again.

MALE GHOST: [static, tinny] There is no such thing as mutual hug.

FEMALE GHOST: [sheet blowing outward with her breaths] Do I look like a ghost? You think I’m ready?

MALE GHOST: [static] Yes. How about me? Do I? [arms out, looking down] I feel like I look stupid. Do I look like a ghost or what? Or just stupid.

FEMALE GHOST: Yes absolutely.

They walk down the hall to a room where a boy is playing with blocks. He’s wearing a shirt with a smiling helicopter on the front.

And there’s a city on the floor, made of blocks and he is preparing to roll over it. But the door opens. And it swishes the carpet. Two ghosts stand in the doorway, saying nothing. Sound of heavy static breathing.

FEMALE GHOST: [static thin] What are you making?

The boy sits up. Is still. And he pinches his toes, avoiding eye contact. He avoids looking into the eyeholes. An ant climbs the tallest building in the city and looks around. Another small bug, one that looks like a fish with antennae walks up a building too.

MALE GHOST: [nose shaking the tented sheet, static] Is it a city? — Huh? It looks so nice [breathing loud] Are you going to let that fish-bug move in? How about me? Let us into your neighborhood yeah?

BOY: [still pinching toes] Why do them bugs like to live in my hair?

FEMALE GHOST: Yeah [coming into room] It’s nice. I like it. Let me in too, let me move into your city.

BOY: [distracted] Yeah.

They all ignore each other, in favor of staring at the ant and the bug resembling a fish, both on top of the buildings.

MALE GHOST: Whoa I really like it. Can I rent a room in one of the buildings? Or has this fish-bug guy here already claimed everything?

There is a long pause.

BOY: [to no one] Why do them bugs like to live in my hair.

The female ghost approaches closer, and touches the back of the boy’s neck. He flicks a block idly and shudders. Bumps populate his neck.

FEMALE GHOST: Yeah, everyone gets to live in the city.

BOY: [urgent, loud] No.

FEMALE GHOST: No? Why not?

BOY: Just because.

Then both ghosts are touching the back of the boy’s neck, together at the same time. With thin static-laughing they rub their hands over him and he is menaced.

MALE GHOST: [facing her] I like this.

FEMALE GHOST: Me too. It feels so good.

MALE GHOST: Well then. Let’s keep doing it yeah?

FEMALE GHOST: Let’s.

MALE GHOST: [looking down] What about this one? [touches a building, sending it swaying] This one looks nice. Can I move into this one? [laughing]

The male ghost keeps touching buildings, as well as the boy’s neck. And the female ghost laughs, steps back. She observes the touching.

FEMALE GHOST: [clapping hands once] You two make such a pair!

Both ghosts laugh at the boy. And touch him and his buildings freely.

BOY: [upset] No.

MALE GHOST: [knocks building over] This one right here?

BOY: [screaming] Don’t touch it.

MALE GHOST: Sorry. I’m sorry. You want me to leave don’t you? Just tell me. Don’t you? If you want me to leave just tell me [tone then friendlier] But if you sit there, I will stay [taps boy’s head] I will stay exactly where I am then. Me and the fish-bug here will split an apartment in the city. I hope we don’t fight over dishes or something yeah? Don’t roll over us yeah?

The boy backs up and tries to hide underneath his steel bedframe, whining from both. He tugs the toe area of the socks he’s wearing, lying sideways under the bedframe.

BOY: Get out.

The ghosts kneel by the bedframe and stare beneath. They reach in and keep touching the boy’s face and neck. They put their hands all over his face, pressing hard.

FEMALE GHOST: Remember [blowing the sheet with heavy breathing] no one will be your enemy like we will. That is my promise. Pinky swear.

She puts her head underneath the bedframe and presses her head into the boy, very hard. She repeats, “No one will be your enemy like we will” over and over, saying it the same way each time.

MALE GHOST: No one [reaching under bed] The younger generations breath our last breaths. That’s what a ghost is. When can I move in? Huh? When can me and the fish-bug move in with all our stuff?

He puts his head underneath the bed too, next to the female’s. Both ghosts lean in closer and breathe onto the boy’s face. Touching everywhere. And the boy fights out through their hands and exits the room running. As the ghosts take theirs heads out from under the bed there is a loud fall from down the hallway. Then wet screaming. The ghosts find the boy on the tile floor in the bathroom, his lip split open. Blood streaks the bathtub and the tile too. The female ghost sits on the toilet, lifting the boy to her lap. He is already pale, his face curled into a raw frown, reddened — the upper lip split through to the teeth, reaching up to the lower left eyelid. He screams. The female ghost grabs his lips and holds them shut with her fingers. There is struggle. Bubbles comes from his screaming mouth, down his chin. And the male ghost watches, distractedly touching a stick of antiperspirant left by the sink. He notices his hand on the antiperspirant.