You Only Hurt the Ones You Love: A Collection of Short Plays

By David J. Holcombe

You Only Hurt the Ones You Love is a collection of short plays by David J. Holcombe. The subject matter varies from food poisoning to Czech folk dancing, with lots of odd topics in between. The common denominator remains a keen sense of social observation and a desire to translate those findings into meaningful theater.
While it is understood that many people want to be entertained rather than educated or harangued, most of these plays deal with weighty and sometimes controversial topics, often approached with humor. Artists have the responsibility to translate our world, so chaotic, disturbing, or even repulsive, into something concise, poignant, and beautiful, a far cry from simply entertaining. If you can learn something, so much the better.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Jan 14, 2019
• ISBN: 9781546274681

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© 2019 David J. Holcombe. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 1/11/2019

ISBN: 978-1-5462-7469-8 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-5462-7468-1 (e)

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Contents

Acknowledgements and Disclaimer

In Memorium

You Only Hurt The Ones You Love

Section 8 Housing

The Doctor’s Dining Room

Charity Begets Charity

Make Us Great Again

Sour Grapes

Give Me Shelter

The Disaster Coordinator and Dr. Allgood

The Reprimand

Kouzelny Klobouk (The Magic Hat)

Open Burning (Magic Waste Disposal)

Infant Mortality

Prisoner Care

The Fundraiser

Kde Domov Muy? (Where is My Home?)

The Incredible Tailors

San Miguel de Allende y el Dia de los Muertos (Day of the Dead)

Forgiveness Without Justice

The Morning After Variations

The Morning after A Positive HIV Test

The Morning After The Election

The Morning After In A Hurricane Shelter

The Morning After The School Shooting

The Morning After The Dismissal

The Morning After Getting Rid of The Cell Phone

The Morning After The Overdose

The Morning After In Purgatory

The Morning After In Katrina’s Wake

The Adventures of Alicia Mae Bass

About the Author

Acknowledgements and Disclaimer

I would like to acknowledge you, the reader, for taking the time to plunge into this collection of short plays. The subject matter varies from food poisoning to Czech folk dancing, with lots of odd and engaging topics in between. The common denominator remains a keen sense of social observation and a desire to translate those findings into meaningful and engaging theater.

While it is understood that many people want to be entertained rather than educated or harangued, most of these plays deal with weighty and controversial topics, even when approached with humor. This is because artists have the responsibility to translate our world, so chaotic, disturbing or even repulsive, into something concise, poignant and beautiful, a far cry from simply entertaining.

Although the people and places around me have provided inspiration, any resemblance of characters in these plays to the living or dead is strictly fortuitous. The same holds true for the situations portrayed. These plays are fiction, no more, no less. If anyone sees themselves or others reflected in the pages, it is by projection rather than by artistic design.

I would, of course, like to thank my long-suffering wife, Nicole, who tolerates my passions for writing, painting, dancing and working, all to the detriment of our time together. She will be rewarded in paradise for her tenacity here on earth. Her steady, practical and giving nature has provided a constant counterpoint to my flighty, self-centered and visionary attributes.

I would also like to thank Dr. John Hill, who tirelessly read and re-read my manuscripts to locate errors and offer helpful suggestions. His goes above and beyond to be helpful and supportive. He is a true friend and colleague, for which I am grateful.

My friends and colleagues in this unlikely place we call home also deserve my thanks for supporting my creative efforts. This notably extends to the production of at least a dozen of my plays here in the Heart of Louisiana by Spectral Sisters Productions, our local developmental theater group. My co-conspirators and creative comrades tolerate my eccentricities, as do my many supportive friends scattered around the nation and the world. Thanks for giving me a chance when many have refused to do so.

David J. Holcombe, MD

January 2019

Cover Painting, The Death of Xavier Moreno-Gonzales by David J. Holcombe 2009

In Memorium

Renaud Lénart Holcombe, our beloved eldest son, died at age 36 in Boston, Massachusetts on December 22, 2018 after a long battle with mental illness. Born in Brussels, Belgium on August 31, 1982, he settled in Alexandria, Louisiana with his family. He attended Bolton High School and graduated from the Louisiana School for Math Science and the Arts. Afterwards, he attended and graduated from Loyola University New Orleans with a degree in Computer Science.

After being displaced by Hurricane Katrina, he moved with his cat and his computers to Boston, Massachusetts where he worked in information technology. He enjoyed spending time with his many friends, watching and playing soccer, riding his bike and dabbling in glass blowing. An avid reader and intellectual, his insightful wit could be alternatively amusing and scary. His co-workers and IT teams appreciated him at Wayfair, where he last worked as a data architect and supervisor.

YOU ONLY HURT THE ONES YOU LOVE

CHARACTERS

PAUL: Good-looking young male nurse

KAREN: Attractive young women with slightly masculine features and a short hair cut

SETTING

A couple of chairs and a table suggest a clinical setting

PAUL is giving KAREN an injection in her arm.

KAREN: OUCH!

PAUL: (Removes the needle) Did that hurt?

KAREN: You bet your sweet ass it did! What did you use, a pile driver?

PAUL: No, just a one-inch, 25-Guage needle, which is super fine. Besides, you only hurt the ones you love.

KAREN: That’s stupid.

PAUL: No, no! It’s true. You get a shot. It hurts a little bit, but it protects you from getting the flu. (Pauses) You know that between 3,500 and 35,000 Americans die from complications of the flu every year? (Puts on a Band-Aid.)

KAREN: (Pulls down her sleeve) Impressive. So where’s the love part?

PAUL: Because I want you to stay healthy and happy so I can love you.

KAREN: (Puts on a sweater) I’ve never heard that kind of a line before. You really are original.

PAUL: Thank you.

KAREN: So now it’s my turn. Have you had your flu shot yet?

PAUL: Not yet.

KAREN: Did you get one last year?

PAUL: No.

KAREN: I see, you’re a hypocrite!

PAUL: No, it’s because I’m afraid of needles.

KAREN: (Laughs) Just using them on other people, not having someone stick you? Is that it?

PAUL: Yes, precisely.

KAREN: Well, what’s your name?

PAUL: Paul.

KAREN: Hello Paul, I’m Karen and I’m going to give you your flu shot. (Picks up a loaded syringe) Roll up your sleeve.

PAUL: (Steps back) NO WAY! You can’t do that.

KAREN: Of course I can. I’m a registered nurse and I can give all the shots I want. (Picks up her purse and takes out a wallet) See! Here’s my license.

PAUL: This is very irregular.

KAREN: Irregular or not, here it comes! (Takes the syringe and grabs an alcohol prep pad) Right arm or left?

PAUL: (Takes another step backwards) I don’t have to!

KAREN: Why? You deal with sick patients all day and you could spread the flu around like crazy. An unvaccinated health worker is a public menace. (Steps closer to PAUL) Okay, stop fooling around, roll up your sleep and let’s get this done.

PAUL: (Whimpers) No! I’m afraid. I know you’re going to hurt me.

KAREN: (Follows PAUL as he retreats) If you keep moving around, of course I’ll hurt you. Just stop and hold still.

PAUL and KAREN move around the stage in a dance-like movement.

KAREN: We only hurt the ones we love, remember?

PAUL: (Stops) You love me, too?

KAREN: Of course, I’ve always loved you.

PAUL: (Smiles and rolls up his sleeve) In that case, come and get it.

KAREN: (Advances and plunges the needle into PAUL’s chest) There! Take that!

PAUL: OUCH! (Stumbles back) What the hell are you doing?

KAREN: (Stabs PAUL again and again) Take that and that!

PAUL: (Falls to the ground) You’re really hurting me! I’m bleeding.

KAREN: I really, really love you.

PAUL rises up and tries to escape. KAREN knocks him down and picks up a blunt instrument and starts pounding him.

KAREN (CONT): DIE! You miserable son-of-Satan! DIE!

PAUL: (Screams) HELP! Somebody help me for God’s sake (tries to get off the floor.)

KAREN: (Knocks PAUL down again) I love you! I love you to death, you miserable no-good asshole.

PAUL: This isn’t love, it’s murder!

KAREN: Then love me back, you wimp.

PAUL: (Staggers to his feet and grabs something off the table and strikes KAREN) There, take that, you bitch!

KAREN: (Looks surprised and recovers and re-attacks PAUL) You think you’re a better man than me, don’t you!

PAUL: Of course not. (Stops swinging) You’re a man?

KAREN: (Stops swinging) Well, biologically and genetically, yes.

PAUL: You’re a transgender woman, aren’t you?

KAREN: Yes.

PAUL: (Examines KAREN) The boobs, the depilation, the hair. (Pauses) Did you have (trials off)?

KAREN: A fake vagina?

PAUL: Exactly.

KAREN: Yes, I had a total surgical reversal with castration, penilectomy and reconstructive surgery. Plus I had bilateral breast implants and complete hormonal therapy (turns around to show off her physique.)

PAUL: Impressive.

KAREN: Well?

PAUL: Well, what?

KAREN: Are you attracted to me?

PAUL: (Looks at the blunt object in her hand) Not particularly, at least nothing spontaneous at this moment. And zero interest since you just attacked me. What did you really expect?

KAREN: (Drops the blunt object and starts to cry) That happens every time I start to get close to someone. Just when I think something might be happening, I lose it and go on the offensive.

PAUL: Maybe you’re scared of real commitment? Maybe you’re frightened of the prospect of rejection or just indifference? Maybe you’re a psychopath in a transgender body?

KAREN: (Sneers) Thanks. (Pauses) I think you got enough of a dose of the flu vaccine, even in the chest.

PAUL: (Wipes blood off his clothes) I think so. (Takes a second look at KAREN) Really, not a bad result at all.

KAREN: (Turns around again) Want to see more?

PAUL: Maybe.

KAREN: I can meet you at the bowling alley tonight. We can play a few games, then maybe go out for a drink or two? What do you think?

PAUL: I can’t tonight. I gotta go to my AA meeting.

KAREN: Ah, one of those.

PAUL: What’s that supposed to mean?

KAREN: Once an alcoholic, always an alcoholic.

PAUL: That’s pretty hopeless.

KAREN: Yeah, I should know. My momma was one. Lordie, she’d get so blasted she’d fall down dead drunk in the living room. That’s after she beat us all with a belt.

PAUL: And your dad?

KAREN: Who knows? I never knew him and Momma never mentioned him.

PAUL: Maybe that’s why you wanted to become a woman? The nice woman you never knew. Or the woman who could attract and keep the dad you never knew.

KAREN: It’s not that deep.

PAUL: We mostly turn into our parents anyway.

KAREN: God forbid! (Pauses) Was your dad a drunk, too?

PAUL: Maybe. I never knew him either, not really.

KAREN: How’s your arm?

PAUL: (Rubs it) Sore from the pounding, not from the shot.

KAREN: So did I hurt you?

PAUL: Yes.

KAREN: Good! (Goes over and slaps PAUL) There! I love you even more.

PAUL: (Punches KAREN in the stomach and tackles her) There! I must really love you, too!

PAUL remains on top of KAREN, holding out her arms in spread eagle fashion.

KAREN: Rape me!

PAUL: NO!

KAREN: Rape me, you wimp! Show me what kind of man you are!

PAUL: (Releases KAREN and stands up) A decent one. Fuck yourself!

PAUL turns to clean up the table and KAREN picks up a chair and knocks PAUL to the ground. PAUL lies on the ground unconscious.

KAREN: There, the culmination and consecration of our relationship. (Bends down and kisses PAUL) Good night sweet prince: And flights of angels sing thee to thy rest!

KAREN wipes her soiled hands off with a towel and tosses on PAUL’s prostrate body and exits.

BLACKOUT

SECTION 8 HOUSING

CHARACTERS

JIM: Early middle-aged professional. Architect and city planner. Well-dressed. Well-spoken.

CAROL: Older middle-aged local resident. Somewhat hostile. Flashy-casual clothing. Affected speech pattern.

SETTING

Public meeting, but only Carol and Jim are present at this time. There is an easel with a map with various colored sections. There are a handful of chairs, suggesting that more people were there at one time.

CAROL: (Points to a colored section of the map) And what is this part?

JIM: That’s the Section 8 Housing.

CAROL: What’s that?

JIM: It’s for low-income people, but it can also be for seniors or the handicapped.

CAROL: Why do you want them around here?

JIM: Well, it’s socially responsible, but beyond that, it allows substantial tax breaks.

CAROL: Tax breaks? For whom?

JIM: For the investors, of course!

CAROL: So you’ll destroy our neighborhood by importing poor people just to get a hefty tax break for some greedy, rich investors.

JIM: That’s harsh.

CAROL: That’s the reality. What about our investments? We paid top dollar to have beautiful homes in a fine, upper-class area, with a great school and now you want to bring in some poor people to wreak the school and drive down the property values.

JIM: That’s not the intent. The intent is to encourage diversity and that’s in everyone’s best interest.

CAROL: No, it’s not! You’re lying to yourself and you’re lying to me.

JIM: No! By mixing up different races, different incomes, different backgrounds, you increase social capital, bridging social capital.

CAROL: What’s that?

JIM: Social capital is the glue that binds communities together. And bridging social capital is between those people who don’t look alike, act alike or have the same incomes.

CAROL: No it’s not. Social capital’s the solvent that destroys what is good and dilutes it down to mediocrity.

JIM: Carol… .(voice trails off.)

CAROL: (Interrupts JIM) Mrs. Hartford to you, Jimmy-Boy!

JIM: Mrs. Hartford, it has been proven that enhanced social capital is correlated with better health, better educational outcomes, less television watching by children, lower murder rates, lower infant mortality and lower maternal mortality. What more could you want?

CAROL: Murder? Infant mortality? Television watching? Those are poor people’s problems. And that’s what you’re planning on importing in our neighborhood! (Pauses) What’s in it for us? Why would we want to come home to a hybrid ghetto?

JIM: Equity, that’s why.

CAROL: (Laughs) What planet do you live on?

JIM: You never needed a helping hand in your life?

CAROL: Never!

JIM: (Pauses) Not even when you lost your mom to AIDS.

CAROL: (Freezes) What are you talking about?

JIM: My parents knew your parents very well back then. Everyone still knows everyone around here. It’s just a small village.

CAROL: You don’t know what you’re talking about!

JIM: (Calmly) Yes, I do.

CAROL: I didn’t need any help then and I certainly don’t need any now. (Pauses) That was confidential medical information about my mom. No one but doctors and nurses should have known that.

JIM: And lab techs and phlebotomists and clerical staff and housekeepers at the hospital and your pastor and your neighbors. They all knew, too.

CAROL: That’s wrong!

JIM: You’re right. It is wrong. But it’s still a very small town and your mother wasn’t that discreet about her health issues either.

CAROL: (Angrily) She blabbered everything to everyone. She said she had a blood transfusion and got AIDs from that. But everyone knew she was a druggie, a low life, self-prostituting druggie. (Starts to cry) I hated her then and I still hate her now.

JIM: You can’t hate your own mother.

CAROL: (Screams) YES I CAN AND YES I DO!

JIM: (Goes and comforts CAROL) Everyone has problems in childhood.

CAROL: Yes, some trivial things, but not being homeless, not picking fleas and ticks off your body because you’re sleeping in the woods, not trying to fight off pedophile predators that thought they could take advantage of you because your mom was out cold from drugs. Who wants that kind of home, if you can call it that?

JIM: That is extreme.

CAROL: It was inhuman, intolerable, unbelievable. (Pauses) And yet, as a child, you somehow survive. Children have this wonderful resiliency, even for situations that should kill them. I just kept on until things got a little better, a little more stable. (Points to the map) What’s over there?

JIM goes to the plan and points our some other features.

JIM: Here’s a community hall in the renovated dining area. And the chapel stays here. We’re just looking for an interested non-denominational church.

CAROL: I don’t want to see any more. It’s painful: you, this project, my past, everything! It’s all too painful!

JIM: And walling yourself up in your gated community will wipe out the pain?

CAROL: No! Besides, Heavenly Oaks is just exclusive, not gated.

JIM: A subtle distinction. (Pauses) But maybe having a few black children, who need a little special loving care, a bit more attention to make it in life, would be a good thing for you and your children. A little diversity has never done any harm.

CAROL: How could I stand it? Every time I see some slimy corner drug dealer or some strung out addict in the gutter, my stomach churns. When I see the children in those neighborhoods, I think about the adults.

JIM: And what about the children themselves? Do they make your stomach churn, too?

CAROL: No, of course not! My heart goes out to them. Everyone needs that extra dose of love and attention to make it, just like I did.

JIM: So you did need some extra loving care?

CAROL: Yes, dammit! I did. And thank God in heaven there were people willing to give it.

JIM: Like Mrs. Barnhart, your third grade teacher?

CAROL: (Pauses) Yes, she was a lovely lady. She exuded caring, even with more (pauses) difficult children.

JIM: Yes, a lovely lady, my mother, Mrs. Margaret Barnhart.

CAROL: (Stunned) Your mother?

JIM: Yes, my mother.

CAROL: How is she?

JIM: She died a horrible death from breast cancer five years ago.

CAROL: (Touches JIM) I’m so sorry. She was a great woman.

JIM: And we’re naming the Section 8 Housing after her, the Margaret Barnhart Complex.

CAROL: That’s not fair.

JIM: Why?

CAROL: Because how can I oppose some project inspired and named after that saintly woman?

JIM: You can’t. (Pauses) Well, at least you shouldn’t.

CAROL: (Shakes her head) But we have a homeowners’ association that’ll fight this project tooth and nail, down to the last man, woman and child.

JIM: Except you.

CAROL: (Sighs) Except me.

JIM: It only takes one righteous dissenter to change public opinion. You may lose some so-called friends, but you can make new ones, different ones, better ones.

CAROL: Friends that don’t share my same race, my same income or my same religion?

JIM: Precisely, bridging social capital.

CAROL: (Looks at the map) And what goes over here?

JIM: That’s a green space for a community garden. And over here, it’s a walking trail in a nature area near the bayou. And a playground over here for the children, especially for those in the Section 8 Housing.

CAROL: No, for all the children, please, the rich ones and the poor ones.

JIM: Yes, for all the children. For all of God’s children, living in a place they all want to come home to.

BLACKOUT

THE DOCTOR’S DINING ROOM

CHARACTERS

DR. CHANCE MEYER: Older physician. May wear scrubs or a suit or white lab coat depending on the director’s preference.

MRS. RUTH COLLIER: CEO of the hospital. Older middle-aged. May be portly and matronly looking. No regional accent.

SETTING

CEO’s office. Simple set elements. A couple of chairs and a desk. The CEO is behind the desk, but comes forward when she speaks to Dr. Meyer.

DIRECTOR’S NOTE

A male actor can take the role of the hospital CEO and, if so, it becomes ROBERT COLLIER. Corresponding text changes in gender should be made.

MEYER: NO! We will not be having PA’s or NP’s or any mid-level providers in the doctor’s dining room! Doctor’s dining room, what is so ambiguous about that?

COLLIER: Dr. Meyer, many of the doctor’s work very closely with their midlevels and they feel that their collaborators should be able to share some quality time and meals in the doctor’s dining room. Nurse practitioners and physician assistants have become increasingly numerous all over the country.

MEYER: DOCTOR’S DINING ROOM! No midlevels in the Doctor’s Dining Room! Is there something you don’t understand about that? (Pauses) If you choose to change the name, that’s certainly your prerogative as hospital CEO, but I warn you that I, for one, and many other physicians, will boycott the room as a first step, and then perhaps do the same for your hospital as well.

COLLIER: Please settle down. I’m sure we don’t need to over-dramatize the situation. After all, it’s only a dining room, a place to eat and relax between cases.

MEYER: Only a place to eat? Is that what you think? No! It’s another step on the slippery slope in eroding physician privilege. First the dining room, and then mid-level prescription privileges, and then they’ll be able to work independently of a doctor with no collaborative agreement required. (Pauses) Mark my words, Mrs. Collier, it’s a slippery slope indeed and your dining room