Stealing a Kiss, a play scene by Alan McCormick
MUSIC (BARBARA STREISAND SINGING ‘THE WAY WE WERE’) PLAYS IN BACKGROUND. AN OLDER MAN AND WOMAN SIT A LITTLE APART ON A PARK BENCH LOOKING FORWARD SOMEWHAT VACANTLY (HIM MORE SO). VERY OCCASIONALLY (WHEN IT FEELS RIGHT), THEY TURN TO FACE EACH OTHER. THEY HAVE OBVIOUSLY BEEN THERE FOR SOME TIME. MUSIC CUTS OUT.
W: You do know who Chris is?
M: Do I?
W: Of course you do.
HE SHAKES HIS HEAD.
W: Chris. Little Chris.
M: Little?
W: Big Chris then. Come on! (BEAT) Chris. Chris. CHRIS.
M: There’s no point in just repeating his name.
W: Christopher. Christy. Chrissy.
M: He was never a Chrissy.
W: You do remember, then?
SHORT PAUSE.
M: I never liked him.
W: Chris?
M: His dentures chattered.
W: He never wore dentures.
M: Like he always had frostbite: (EXAGGERATED ENACTING) Ttttttttttt!!
W: I’m not sure –
M: (INTERRUPTING) Joke-shop-teeth-Chris we used to call him.
W: You didn’t.
M: We did. We all did!
W: No, you didn’t.
SHORT PAUSE.
M: No, you’re right, we didn’t. (BEAT). I never knew him. Not really. Not at all in fact.
W: You did. I promise you did. You still do.
M: But his wife?
W: (BRIGHTLY) Yes?
THEY MOVE CLOSER.
M: I liked her!
W: What was her name?
M: She had such beautiful breasts.
W: Wow!
M: Personality, her personality was lovely too.
W: I heard that.
M: Catherine! That was her name (SLIGHTLY LONGER BEAT, LOST IN REVERIE) Elegant. So elegant. She looked like a racehorse.
W: No, no, I think you always said she moved elegantly like a racehorse.
M: Rode her over the downs.
W: Goodness. Surely not?
M: Held her mane tight and whispered in her ear.
W: A lovely horse then?
M: (THINKS, THEN BLURTS WITH CONVICTION): Albino!
W: What?
M: Palomino! (BEAT) Like her mother. (BEAT) Made the nicest cakes. Her mother. Not Catherine. (BEAT) She wore the nicest shoes. Catherine did, I mean. (BEAT) Not horseshoes, haha (BEAT) No, yes, that’s right, her mother never wore – (STOPS, CONFUSED)
W: And what about dear Jimmy Brambles?
M: A cod!
W: Fish?
M: Hahaha. He was a shyster. A shit stirrer.
W: No, you always liked him.
M: No, I like the words: shyster, shit stirrer. Shy sitter. Sounds good on the tongue.
W: You did like him though.
M: Did I? (BEAT) If you say so.
W: He was your best man.
M: Poor me.
W: He died this morning.
M: Poor him.
W: I’m sorry.
M: Don’t be sorry, no need to be sorry.
THEY MOVE UP CLOSE. SHORT REFRAIN FROM MUSIC STIRS (WITH NO WORDS).
W: I think we should go.
M: If you say so, yes, okay.
W: You’re in better form today
M: Glad you think that.
W: Yes, and the old you is always in there somewhere, whatever. Those words: (SMILING) shit stirrer, shy sitter. That’s you!
M: And you: it’s like I don’t know you, yet I I’ve known you forever.
W: You have, you dolt.
M: But when I look in the mirror, I don’t know who I’m looking at anymore.
W: Well, maybe don’t look. I see you; I know who you are.
M: Can I hold your hand?
W: I wish you would.
M: I feel like I want to kiss you.
W: Then you should.
THEY KISS.
W: (LOOKING DIRECLY AT HIM) Chris, it’ll be okay.
M: You moved like –
W: (INTERRUPTING) A racehorse? I know but stay here, Chris, don’t wander off, let’s just hold the moment.
M: Yes, you’re right, I’d like that very much.
W: And we’ll write a card for Jimmy together, later?
M: Who?
W: Jimmy. Jimmy Brambles. Our best man.
M: Another kiss?
W: Another kiss.
THEY EMBRACE. SLOWLY FADES TO DARKNESS.
Stealing a Kiss was performed at the Cork Arts Theatre as part of their 10×10 Play Event in December 2024. Alan McCormick recently completed his second story collection and a book of memoir essays with the assistance of an Arts Council Literature Bursary Award.
