Drama - Year A - Lent 3

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Drama - Year A - Lent 3

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DRAMA—SERIES A—THIRD SUNDAY IN LENT

Bible reference: John 4:5–42

 

WISHING WELL

 

A woman stands at a table/ironing board. Alongside her is a large basket of freshly washed clothes.  She folds them neatly, and puts them in piles. (Humour can be created by the kind of things she folds and the way she reacts to them.)  The woman used to be a fine-looking lady, but age and experience have taken their toll. She addresses the whole audience as if she were talking to a friend.  She moves around, retaining attention.

 

I didn’t know what he was on about at first.  Well, you wouldn’t, would you?

 

I didn’t expect anyone else to be there. It’s normally quiet at that time of the morning—that’s why I go then.

 

Oh sure, old Joe the manager puts in an appearance sometimes. But no-one else. In fact, you hardly ever see anyone down there. It’s a wonder Joe can keep the business going. It’s interest rates, you know...

 

Yeah, so I got quite a shock when he came in. No, not Joe, this other bloke. Joe couldnÕt give you a shock even if he was an electrician.

 

The other bloke was young, quite young. And you don’t expect a healthy young fellow to be around at that time of day. They’re either at work, or they’re bludging lying at home in bed. This bloke wasn’t a bludger. He looked more like...more...I don’t know what. More something.

 

Like I said, it was a shock just seeing him. But there were more surprises. Almost makes me sad now the machine’s fixed—who knows what else might have happened if I’d had to keep going to the laundromat another few weeks.

 

Still, I’ve got to hand it to Stan. It took him six months, but he fiddled with that washing machine until he got it fixed. Anyway, I was getting a bit sick of the kids getting under my feet down there. It’s alright at home here—you can let them loose in the backyard—but in public...

 

I’d done the washing when he came in, and was just getting the last lot into the dryer. After the first shock at seeing him, I didn’t think too much more about it. Until he says something to me.

 

(Holds up a pair of socks with a great big hole in them, shakes her head)

 

Look at these, will you? (Tosses the socks)

 

Where was I? That’s right—he starts talking. I didn’t hear what he said at first—those dryers make a heck of a racket. That one second from the end’s got something wrong with it, I’m sure.  I try never to use it.

 

But then he repeats what he said, and you know what—darn cheek—he said? He only went and asked me to do his washing for him!

 

Never heard anything like it in my life.

 

As if I didn’ have enough of my own. What, with Stan, and the kids...

 

And anyway, you don’t ask complete strangers something like that. You don’t even ask your best friend to do that. I mean, no offence, I wouldn’t want anyone else handling my...you know...personals.

 

But the things was, he gave me this look that just stopped me in my tracks. And you know me—I take some stopping. Well, this look he gave me just shut me right up. For a minute anyway.

 

Then I told him he had to be joking.

 

But he wasn’t. He asked me the same thing again. And said more. Something like ‘If you knew who was asking, you’d ... you’d...’—I can’t remember exactly what—and I said if I knew who was blooming well asking, I might think about it for a second, but I didn’t know him from a bar of soap.

 

I was pretty pleased with that joke. But he didn’t laugh. Just said something about never having to wash again.

 

Course my ears pricked up at that. Maybe this was some kind of competition. Like on the telly—you see that sometimes. When you win a year’s worth of house cleaning, or a month’s supply of cornflakes.

 

Just imagine never having to wash Stan’s rotten socks again. And as for the kids’ stuff... You can’t help wishing that some day someone would just come in and take care of all those kind of things...

 

All the same, I was still a bit worried. You hear all kinds of stories...

 

That’s when he starts talking about Stan. My Stan! As if he’d known him all his life!

 

I couldn’t believe it. Someone was setting me up. I started looking around to see what the joke was going to be.

 

But the more this bloke talked, the more he sounded like he knew what he was talking about.

 

And then, you wouldn’t believe it, he started talking about Mick. He knew all about Albury, and the house.

 

And he knew about Bill too. Poor Bill—we were just kids then.

 

This bloke knew it all. Laid it all out there right in front of me. He knew more about me than I know about me! Talk about having your dirty washing aired in public.

 

My first reaction was to get out of there, and I even started getting the washing together—even the stuff that was still wet.

 

But then, I couldn’t help it, my curiosity started getting the better of me. What else did he know?

 

He kept talking. And as he talked, well...he didn’t get all preachy or anything, you know, like some people do. They hear you’ve been married a couple of times, and things haven’t quite worked out the way you expected, and...oh, you know.

 

But this bloke...it sounds silly, I know...he made me feel like he understood.

 

I liked that.

 

I mean, I love Stan and all, and the kids. But you can’t help wishing sometimes that there was something...more...

 

And that was it. Because the next minute, some other people came in, and there was a whole lot more racket, and the bloke was gone.

 

It was a funny experience. Come to think of it now, he didn’t even have any clothes to wash.

 

I wonder what he meant? (Puts piles of folded clothes back in clothes basket)

 

What kind of a man would come up to someone like me, and know all about me...and sound as if he liked me?

 

(Picks up washing basket and exits)

 

 

© Jonathan Krause 1993

 

Permission is given for the owner of this disk to make sufficient copies of this script for their group or congregation, for rehearsal and performance purposes only.