Sam Pink - The Self-Esteem Holocaust Comes Home

THE MAN FROM THE BACKSEAT: Definitely. I feel good when I watch something die. It makes me feel powerful. I guess I am a little hurt when I see it, but also very good. Too good. I’m not angry now anymore. I am a car made of steel and the earth only makes things out of fur and bone. And I made myself. Being a human is better than being the earth I think. I’m not even angry any more. I can’t remember what anger looks like. It is not in my head now anymore.

THE DRIVER: [wipes some blood off his face] Faces are the worst of human possessions.

THE MAN FROM THE BACKSEAT: Yes but yours is so pretty [puts hand on the driver’s shoulder] It was made after the earth got a manicure.

The driver gives a thumbs-up sign into the rearview mirror.

THE DRIVER: Let’s check on our friend.

THE MAN FROM THE BACKSEAT: [undoing seatbelt] Friends make the world go round.

They get out of the car and look at the deer. The deer lies angled, its jaw missing and its front leg held only by skin. When the deer moves its broken leg only the top half moves, the other half remains on the road, heavy. And the two men watch the trees reflect off its open black eyes.

THE DRIVER: Much like your mother being in your mind, the trees are now only in the eyes of this dying animal. Very interesting. What does that mean? I am fucking confused about everything right now. Hold on. Wait — I’m good now, nevermind. I don’t care.

THE MAN FROM THE BACKSEAT: [turns to the driver] Should we cut its eyes open and make the trees free? Is that what you are saying? They need to be free. I love the earth. It is our mother [touches head, confused] Wait that means the world is in my mind [panicked] I will take care of the earth by thinking about it. Should we cut the deer’s eyes open and free the forest? I don’t know what to do now. I’m confused about everything now. I’m angry. Let’s cut the eyes open.

THE DRIVER: [still eyeing deer pile] No, let’s just watch it die. No one thing that is alive is important. Let’s just leave it alone. We’ll watch.

THE MAN FROM THE BACKSEAT: You read my mind.

They look at the bloody road. They kick small stones, some sticking to the deer’s nose. The deer is quiet.

THE MAN FROM THE BACKSEAT: [staring at deer] Hey, would you mind if I use that ‘may I have this dance?’ line sometime?

THE DRIVER: If you properly cite it, then yes.

Silence. They stare up, above the forest. The deer wheezes. Keeps wheezing. They hear the muscles struggling in its throat but they do not look. Instead they stare up. There is no one out but there is garbage everywhere. Harsh clacks of coughing from the deer’s throat muscles. Then nothing. Both men laugh.

THE DRIVER: Well? Shall we?

They carry the deer into the forest and bring it to the nearest loop of a stream.

THE MAN FROM THE BACKSEAT: [putting hand on tree, stepping over shallow area of stream] If my shoes get wet I am going to lie down and not get up.

THE DRIVER: Then your back would be wet too.

THE MAN FROM THE BACKSEAT: [sneezes] It wouldn’t matter at that point.

THE DRIVER: There is nothing to be upset about without being selfish [setting his end of deer down] If your shoes get wet and you decide to lie down, I won’t tell anyone where you are. Alright?

THE MAN FROM THE BACKSEAT: [kneeling by the deer with the driver] I would be scared lying down all by myself [puts hand into the area where the deer’s jaw was]

THE DRIVER: [reaching in too] The only way to feel comfortable on earth is to constantly try to prove to others that you are worthwhile. Otherwise there is no excuse for you to be here. No single thing is important.

They pull down on the wound and rip the body open. The man from the backseat works on taking the bones out while the driver washes them in the stream. In quiet they wash. When finished, they stack the bones by the stream and walk off, back towards the car.

THE DRIVER: When I breathe, my breath looks like fog. The breath goes into the fog and it becomes the sky. I don’t want to donate to the sky. I want everything to be mine and only mine. The bigger breath is above the sky.

He blows out and they both watch.

THE MAN FROM THE BACKSEAT: Thanks for spending time with me today. Usually on the weekends I lie in bed for a long time after I wake up. And I watch the fibers floating in the air. I can see them when the sun comes into the window. I name them and think about their lives. I wonder if they ever land. Sometimes I try to watch one land. It’s impossible to see though. I don’t know, thanks for spending time with me. I don’t love you or anything, but I’m grateful. You make me smile.

THE DRIVER: Saying ‘I love you’ is the stupidest thing ever. It means nothing.

THE MAN FROM THE BACKSEAT: I agree. It is painful to be visible.

They begin walking back. A raccoon climbs a short tree trunk across from them, huge black eyes pointed their way. The raccoon runs away, into a rotten tree. They stand still.

THE DRIVER: I see raccoons every night when I go for walks. They are always out. They always run away from me. I want to touch them. But they will never let me touch them [clears throat] they always run away. I don’t believe in souls. I believe in bones. And I believe that the earth is the biggest garbage dump there is. Some of the garbage can still move and some can’t move anymore. But there is no difference.

THE MAN FROM THE BACKSEAT: [drumming on thighs] The garbage that can’t move teaches the garbage that still moves.

They see another raccoon. The driver walks slowly towards the raccoon. It runs away. They return to the car, walking slow and tapping their hands against the trees. The bloodstain on the street is already less bright, and a tire track extends through it, into the invisible distance.

THE DRIVER: The earth makes shitty merchandise. A car of steel will always kill a car of fur and bone. And a hand will always kill a smaller hand.

THE MAN FROM THE BACKSEAT: And a knife will always kill a hand.

THE DRIVER: And a gun will always kill a knife.

THE MAN FROM THE BACKSEAT: And a bomb will always kill a gun.

THE DRIVER: And a drop of water will always kill a bomb.

THE MAN FROM THE BACKSEAT: And the sun will kill the water.

THE DRIVER: And time will kill the sun.

THE MAN FROM THE BACKSEAT: And a human will always kill time.

THE DRIVER: And time will always kill a human.

THE MAN FROM THE BACKSEAT: And complete disregard will kill a human.

THE DRIVER: And a car made of steel will always kill a car made of fur and bone.

THE MAN FROM THE BACKSEAT: And we will always smile unless we forget to clean our teeth [quiet, looking at bloodstain, then facing the driver] Uh [breathes heavily] I am feeling something like a bubble in my stomach [rocks back and forth] Fuck I might cry. My insides are yawning. I might cry. What is happening right now? This is bad [louder] Help me through this [then quiet] I’m so angry. The deer is in my head now, with my mom. And this bloodstain. They don’t all like each other. Everything is upsetting me [tearing-up] shit, now my face is sinking. There’s water coming out of me. Please don’t tell anyone about this. It feels good but it feels bad to let you see it [louder] I’m angry you are looking at me.

THE DRIVER: [hand on other man’s shoulder] Don’t worry. Your mom will pet the deer and love it. And they will sit on the bloodstain. Everything will be fine. Don’t be upset, let your face sink. Sinking and drowning are peaceful ways to die. There are as many ways to die as there are people. Get it? How it happens makes you who you are. It is happening to me now but I’m not letting it show [soft tone] If your face drowns, you will find peace. And I won’t tell anyone. Your mom will be nice to the deer and they will figure out life together, sitting on the bloodstain. Be fine now.