The Current Title

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J Fresh

Room 113
By Carson Fresh

CHARACTERS

THE OLD MAN (TOM) NURSE 1
SON/FATHER (SCOTT) NURSE 2
GRAND SON (SAM)

Scene 1
The day was an ordinary day, the sun was shining and the songs of a thrush pierced through the sky. The oddly sized building, which held an ambience that of a Russian Cold War era Holiday Inn, still stood there as it had for the past 20 years. Inside, the décor can be described as having a splash of 1950’s furniture with a dash of multi-colored carpeting topped off with the newly equipped state of the art Fitness Area. There are windows with plants, potpourri strewn about to cover up unpleasant scents, and endless hallways of doors indicated by numbers with locks on the outsides of them. When entering the building the automatic doors are timed to herd whoever enters directly towards the front desk. SCOTT and his son SAM hastily stagger through the relentless automatic doors and walk up to the desk. The sign-in sheet in front of the continuously vacant desk holds little merit, but is signed anyways out of self-assurance. The lax behavior of the staff is to encourage the idea of freedom for there elderly visitors.
SCOTT and SAM grab their key and head to a room like they had for the past 2 years.

[After giving a couple of knocks on the door SCOTT turns the key and enters without waiting for a response. SAM follows in short after to greet his grandfather TOM. TOM sits by the double paned window staring with no real emotion to be seen.]

SCOTT: Hi dad.
SAM: [With just enough enthusiasm so not to offend.] Hey grandpa, how’re the birds looking today?
[No response]
SCOTT: Dad? Well aren’t ya gonna say hi to your grandson at least?
TOM: Oh-ohh, yeah, sorry must’a been my hearin aids. How are ya boy?
SAM: Ohh you know? Been fine, cant wait to start senior year.
TOM: You’re really that old now?
SAM: [Laughs in disbelief.] Yes grandpa, I’m going to be a senior, and I can’t wait.
SCOTT: So dad, have you been eating more since the last time me and Sam were here?
TOM: Yes yes, of course I have, damn help wont stop naggin’ me ‘bout it, so what’s a guy to do but give in and eat? Huh?
[SCOTT and SAM both sit down on the bed near the window.]
TOM: So you come to nag me too ‘bout my eatin’?
SCOTT: [Sarcastically.] Ouch! Is that why you think we came? [Then laughs.] Of course that’s not why we came!
SAM: [Childishly.] Yeah come on now, you know we came cause we love you and wanna make sure you’re doing alright.
[No response.]
SCOTT: You look like you’re doing much better than last time we saw you.
[No response.]
SCOTT: Are you gonna just keep starin out the window dad?
[No response. SCOTT and SAM look at one another and pause for a moment.]
SCOTT: You know what? I’m gonna go grab us something to eat, okay? Sam, you want me to see if they have those roll thingys you like?
SAM: [Shrugging his shoulders.] Sure.
SCOTT: And dad, I-I’ll grab ya a piece of the chocolate pie.

[SCOTT leaves the room to relieve the tension between him and his father. SAM is left behind in the silent room with TOM. He pats on his knees and looks around the room for any form of conversation topic he can find.]

SAM: [Awkwardly laughing to himself.] Okay, so I got a good one for ya, “what did the elephant say to the naked man?”
[TOM turns away from the window and toward SAM in confusion and surprise. But still gives no response.]
SAM: “That’s cute, -- but can it pick up peanuts?”

[TOM stares at SAM for a moment. Then cracks a grin out the side of his mouth.]

TOM: That is a good one, your father know ‘bout that mouth?
SAM: No sir.
TOM: [He pauses, then gives SAM a upwardly glare with his right eye.] Well-- [Then lets out a the slightest of chuckles.] guess I can’t go ruinin’ a comedian’s act I suppose.
SAM: [Smiling] No sir.

[TOM turns back towards the window and continues his gaze out to the seemingly unreachable outside world.]

SAM: [Skittishly.] Hey grandpa? -- Can I ask you a question? [Pausing for some sign of approval.] I’ve seen your pictures of when you were in the war. And this last year we learned a lot about both of the World Wars. But, -- will you tell me what it was really like? What it was like to fight for your country? Did you ever really kill any Nazi’s?

[Still looking out the window as if he were waiting for something, he closes his eyes and hangs his head.]

TOM: [Facing towards the floor.] Sam, there’s a lot of choices a man has to make in his life. Some of them are hard, others are easy, but I’ll tell you, nothing would’ve prepared me for what I went through after I had decided to first sign up for service. [Looking up and back out the window.] When I was your age I had already been living on my own. You see my father died shortly after he had returned from fighting. My mother was alone when raisin’ me. You come from an entire line of fine soldiers.
SAM: [With excitement and enthusiasm.] Really? Your dad fought in the First World War?
TOM: [Finally turning and facing SAM.] That’s right. And his father fought in the Civil War and so on. [Rubbing his temples.] Now, where was I?
SAM: You were telling me about you and your mom.
TOM: Yes, yes, that’s right. Well you see, when I was just about your age, ‘bout a couple years younger then yourself, I got myself into heaps of trouble, heck I hardly got to learn in class due to the fact I’d be spendin’ most my time in detention. [Uncontrollably showing his grin and laughing to himself.] Yep, made things pretty hard for myself. Not to mention hard for my momma. [Digressing back to being serious.] One day she had enough, she was fed up with the constant messages from the school, from the neighbor kid’s parents, and fed up with how I was acting. So one day when I came home I saw bag of clothes she had washed and put on the front porch with note saying, “Stay Out”. So out of resentment I grabbed myself that bag tied it to a stick and took to steppin’.
SAM: [With incredible interest and disbelief.] You just -- walked away with your clothes? Where did you go? Where did you live? What did you eat?
TOM: [Chuckling to himself.] What did I eat?-- Son-- you don’t need your momma to eat.
SAM: Yeah but, I could never do that.
TOM: It wasn’t easy…

[TOM shuts his eyes and sits back in chair as if to remember a specific memory. SAM continues to remain staring in amazement directly at TOM.]

TOM: The year was 1936 and I was 16 years old, only a month after my birthday to the day. We were livin' in a little town, with little people, in a little ole house. [Opening his eyes and staring straight past SAM giving a short and hard sigh.] I hated it. That day after I had made my decision to leave I ran into her… Wendy-- your grandmother.
[Changing his view back towards SAM] She asked where I was going and even told me I could stay in her dad’s barn if I only stayed. Me and your grandmother grew up with one another, you see? She lived just two houses down from mine. She was always trying keep up with me and the boys, whether it was playin’ some stick, seein’ who could eat the most, or just good ole rough housin’. [Shaking his finger at SAM] And boy, let me tell you she never held back, nope-- not once.
SAM: So you stayed with her then, right?

[TOM Quickly turns away to cough into his clenched fist, but remains turned after the fit subsides.]

TOM: [After catching his breath.] No, no Sam I didn’t stay with her then. I was too ashamed and embarrassed about what happened. So as fast as I could I conjured up a story that I was on my way to nearest naval base to enlist. Told her, might take some time to get there so I aughta get on my way as soon as possible. [Returning back to SAM] Then I simply just left. I hopped trains day in and day out, stole from farmers and local general stores, and then got put away in juvenile detention for quite some time for it.
SAM: Didn’t you mom hear about that some how? My friends got in trouble last summer and their parents knew about their sentence before they themselves did.
TOM: I told them I was adopted and both my adopted parents were dead.
[SAM is silent.]
TOM: [Continues.] But, it wasn’t so bad. I always thought to myself, least I had a place and was fed regularly.
[SAM remains silent.]
TOM: [After taking an awkwardly quiet pause.] You know what though? I got out, I got out and finally ended up in North Carolina in a small recruitment office. And by the time I had gotten there we had ourselves another conflict in Europe and now Japan.
SAM: [Opening his eyes wide.] World War Two?
TOM: That’s right, the Germans, the Italians, and the Japanese. I thought I was the luckiest man alive to have this opportunity to fight for our country. I enlisted with pride and ended myself the 113th brigade. We were the ones who went in first and came out last. You name the battle and 113th was there.
SAM: So,-- its true, you really did kill Nazi’s?
[No Response.]
TOM: [After a soft gulp.] No, Sam, we didn’t kill Nazi’s.

[SAM turns his head slightly in confusion, trying to understand how that’s possible.]

SAM: Were you in Japan?
TOM: No Sam, we were in the thick of Nazi Europe.
SAM: Then how’s it possible you didn’t then?
TOM: [Slowly turning towards the window] One night we in Germany’s Black Forest, pinned between one battalion to the south west, and another to the north, it was December twenty-fourth, Christmas eve. We were huddled in our foxholes paired up together. The soldier I was paired with was named Amish, his family were Scottish immigrants. Needless to say Amish had a Scottish temper, and we immediately clicked. When we were at base one time and Amish got the bright idea to soap the tile floor in front of the sergeant’s office door after we both got put on latrine duty. [Laughing now.] He slipped ‘bout five or six feet before fallen back on his melon!

[SAM joins in the laughter. After the laughter turned into a couple chuckles TOM begins to continue.]

TOM: But that cold cold Christmas eve sitting in out snug foxholes we sat there waiting for any sign of ambush. We had been on the move nonstop for 8 days and that night those foxholes felt damn near as nice as that bed you’re sittin’ on. Cranky, cold, and mostly tired we swapped stories from home. I had never told anyone about the truth of my past, not even Amish. It was around four in the morning when the first mortar dropped on the hole six soldiers down from me and Amish. I could hear our captain yelling out at everyone commanding all of us to fall back. Amish and I were one of the last pairs to get up and by the time we had gotten up, ‘bout thirty yards down our retreat line, another blast from the mortars ripped through the dense trees causing splinters to fly out every which way. So me and Amish decided to split and rejoin at our previous rendezvous point. Boy, I tell ya, your granddad aint run that fast or that long his entire life. I ran damn near two days straight. After I felt like the danger had been avoided I slowed up, but only some. I made it back to our rendezvous, many other men had made it there, along with our captain.
SAM: [Eagerly interrupting.] And Amish? Did he make back?
TOM: [Softly biting on his lower lip.] Yes, he made it. He showed up about two days after I had gotten there. Along with thirty others, in the back of one of our medical haul trucks. I saw the truck past by me and there was Amish’s face staring back at me, turned upside down, and laid on top of body’s of the rest of our brigade. Their bodies were covered in the ripe splinters from the Black Forest Trees shrapnel. [Pausing to take a deep breath.] And that… well, that was the last time I ever saw Amish.
[SAM is silent.]
TOM: He and I were the closest pair in the entire division. He and I were brothers and would do anything for one another. But, I still never told tell him who I really was especially about leaving my mothers. [Blankly staring back at the wall I’ll never forget that Christmas. And I most certainly will never forget Amish. [Beginning to choke up.] He was the closest thing to family I had for a long time.
SAM: Grandpa, I had no idea.
TOM: No one’s ever known ‘bout that. He’s actually why I named my first boy, your father, Scott-- in memory of Amish.
SAM: You never even told Grandma about that?
TOM: [Sarcastically and bitterly] She never asked why? By the time you’re our age you just don’t seem to think much about the past. I guess to avoid certain feelings.
SAM: But weren’t you a hero, and wouldn’t you want to remember that?
TOM: [Taken back by the remark.] Sam, I was no hero. Don’t you understand? [Getting frustrated.] You’re Granddad is trying to tell you that my life has been made up of nothing but regret! There isn’t a singe day that’s gone by that I regret ignoring the note and staying with my momma! There isn’t a single day I can remember that I haven’t been woken up by seeing Amish’s face in my dreams!
SAM: [Scared.] Grandpa? I’m sorry! Please don’t get upset!
TOM: [Breathing deeper and deeper in anger. Standing up to the window with his bottoms of his fist placed firmly.] Why? Why did you come here? Askin’ me ‘bout my eatin’, ‘bout my wife, ‘bout my past?!

[SAM begins to slowly back towards the doors making sure to maintaining TOM in his sight. TOM pounds on the window in great effort to somehow break through, but is unable. SCOTT opens the door, oblivious to what is happening inside the room.]

SCOTT: [Trying to balance three dishes of food with napkins and utensils he enters the room, only focused on what he is carrying.] Hey guys, sorry that took so long, I-.
SAM: [Interrupts his father mid sentence.] Dad!
TOM: [Using as much effort to force out a yell through asthmatic lungs.] GET OUT! GET OUT AND STAY OUT!
SCOTT: What’s happened in here? [Quickly turning towards SAM.] Sam?
TOM: You hear me? I said leave and don’t come back!
SAM: I don’t know? I was just talking to him!

[TOM’s face is now red from over working himself and collapses to his knee’s clenching his heart through his white striped button up. SCOTT immediately run’s to him.]

SCOTT: [With the sound of terror.] Dad?! [Quickly kneeling to the side of TOM.] Sam! Get the nurses quick!

[SAM runs out the door yelling for help while SCOTT holds TOM in his arms trying to calm his rapid and shallow breathing until the nurses arrive.]

SCOTT: [Beginning to cry in fear] Please! Dad hold on, the nurses are on their way, now come on!

[TOM pulls SCOTT in close to him and whispers a few words into his ear. SCOTT looks down in confusion as he begins to feel TOM’s body become limp. Two nurses run into the room carrying a portable defibrillator. SAM enters soon after but stops in the doorway looking down at what is happening.]

SCOTT: [Realizing Sam is standing there staring.] Sam?

[No Response. The nurses have TOM laying flat on the floor performing cardiopulmonary resuscitation.]

SCOTT: [With a stern but soft voice. He gets up and begins to walk SAM out of the room.] Sam. You don’t need to see this, Grandpa Tom’s gonna be just fine.

[They both look back once more before leaving the room. The nurses begin to ready their portable defibrillator as they turn out the door and down the hallway. Behind them the heavy fireproof door closes behind to reveal the room number’s 113.]

SCOTT: [Still only staring forward as him and his son walk down the hall towards the insidious automatic door. They are drawn towards the flashing of red and white lights in a sort of trans.] Sam, I promise, your grandpa’s a fighter, he can get through this.
SAM: [Staring forward in the same trans and no real emotional connotation.] He told me you’re named after a Scottish man.
SCOTT: [Looking down at SAM in confusion.] What was that?
SAM: [Still staring.] Amish, he said you were named after Amish.—What did he say to you?
SCOTT: He whispered something he must have learned in the military, it was latin, “Ducle et decorum est pro pratria mori.”





In this adaptation I decided to use a poem that I feel I already had the clearest understanding of both the narrative elements and the thematic elements that can be read throughout this story. I used the inspiration from Wilfred Owen’s “Dulce et Decorum Est” and “Disabled”. I first wanted to have the story correlate directly to “Dulce et Decorum Est” but found that if the character TOM had fought in WWI like the narrative suggests in ‘Dulce’ then the time period would be off. So instead I chose to change it from WWI to WWII. However, this entire scene is fashioned from the third or last stanza of “Dulce et Decorum Est”. The last lines that say “my friend you would not tell your children, with such high zest or desperate glory, the old lie: Dulce et Decorum Est, pro pratria mori”. This is where I decided to emphasize. Originally this was going to end up being several scenes depicting the story that the character TOM literates to his grandson SAM. This seemed to be time consuming and may have led to a very long work of drama. I found that this was a better way to present the theme of the inevitable feeling of regret after making some decisions in life. TOM stands for The Old Man.