Fiction by Marc Erdrich

Soul Mates - page 7

time I went through that closet, I actually found your old gas mask...I guess it was from World War I. And a book of ration stamps from the ‘40s. You’ll be in good company. So long. (He closes the box.) Scene 5. Same as scene 1, except MOTHER and SON meet at the front door. He is carrying the box. MOTHER: Where is it? (He hands her the box. She takes it and puts it on a shelf in an open closet near the entrance. They both go to the dining room table, which is set as before, except this time there are dinner plates on the table. He sits first. She goes offstage and returns carrying a platter of spaghetti. She serves him. She puts the platter down and goes offstage again and returns with a container of milk. She pours him a glass and sits down.) SON: Well, I guess I’ll sell the car. MOTHER: So sell the car. Why aren’t you eating? Drink your milk. SON: I’m eating, I’m eating. And I don’t want milk. (He pushes the glass away. They sit silently for a few moments. She lights a cigarette. She is obviously annoyed. For a while she stares at him angrily while he eats.) MOTHER: You know, you’re stupid. You’re really stupid.