by Mckayla Hollis

Created on: June 15, 2009

To Sit and Sit and Sit

Characters:

MINA is a young woman who wants to make it big in the real world. She is driven and focused on her work, and has no time for distractions by family or friends.

MAGDA is very old and seemingly delusional. She lives alone, but Mina worries about her and so decides to move her into a care facility, whether Magda cooperates or not.

Time:

The Present

Place:

In a living room in an old house, filled with boxes in varying stages of being packed. In the center of the room, at a slight angle, is a huge armchair, in which Magda sits, lost among the stuffing and stained cushions.

MINA:

OK, Ma. Time to go.

MAGDA:

Looks innocent

Go?

MINA:

Yes, go. C'mon, get up.

MAGDA:

Go where?

MINA:

You know where, Ma. Get up.

MAGDA:

No.

MINA:

Ma! Don't be like this.

MAGDA:

No.

MINA:

Quite exasperated now

MA!

MAGDA:

Sweetly

Yes dear?

MINA:

Ma, we have to go. The home said they'd only hold your spot until five thirty tonight. The waiting list on that place is huge. We're lucky we got you in at all.

Magda settles more deeply into her chair and folds her arms, pouting like a small child. Mina pulls box up next to Magda and sits down, gripping the arm of her mother's chair.

MINA:

I worry about you, you know.

MAGDA:

You don't need to, Mina.

MINA:

Yes, I do Ma! How can I not worry?

MAGDA:

I have our lives under control.

MINA:

You don't.

MAGDA:

I do.

MINA:

You don't! You're 67 years old, Ma! You are not in control!

MAGDA:

What does my age have to do with control?

MINA:

Grips Magda's arm, becoming more worked up.

Ma! Age has everything to do with it! Age is taking you over. You haven't left this disgusting chair for nine years. You sit there like you're glued to the fabric. Of course I worry! You don't sleep in a bed, and you hardly eat anything. You won't go out. The doors and windows are all locked, and the house smells. I have to worry about you, because you don't!

Mina is breathing hard, her face flushed and eyes wide and hysterical. She looks around wildly, at the boxes, the chair, the wall: Anywhere but at her mother, who is staring blankly at her lap and fiddling with the frayed fabric on the arm of her chair.

MINA:

I'm sorry.

Silence

MINA:

Ma, I'm sorry. I'm just...scared.

MAGDA:

I told you, you don't need to be.

I have it under control.

MINA:

Takes a deep breath for patience.

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