Monologue
Sally’s Gone, She Left Her Name — Sally
Russell Davis
Sally: I do too. (Pause) I miss Mom coming too into my room at night. Telling us about Dad. How she met Dad. And what her parents thought. (Pause) I miss Mom’s stories too. What she made up. About that little girl. Who had a moat. She saw a moat all around her. Between her and the rest of the world. Her own body even. Like she was locked up by herself, all alone in her mind. There was nothing she could do to cross that moat. Nobody to rescue her. And when she became a woman, no man on earth, no prince of this world, could win her. The more they tried, the deeper her moat. Until she decided to go off in the middle of the night. Sneak away from her land. Go to the end of the earth. When the earth was still flat. And rest herself, sit on the edge of the earth, maybe drop off. Disappear. And nobody would know, or be to blame. But on her way she ran out of roads. And saw what looked like a sleeping beast. Between her and the edge of the earth. And just as she was about to sneak around, this beast woke and grabbed her. Began to shriek. Each time the beast shrieked, a piece of the earth broke off until she was about to fall herself. But someone must have caught her. Because she woke up. In an enchanted forest. And in this forest she could see there was no moat. (Pause) Ragatelle. I loved to hear about Ragatelle. Who saw a moat. Mom’s stories about the sleeping beast. Ragatelle’s adventures in a forest. The wizard she met. How Ragatelle never had to go back to the land she came from. Where she could see that moat. (Pause) I think when we were all in that car and Mom got hurt, I don’t think it’s because Mom banged her head like that against the car door. Whereas the rest of us were fine. Just walked away. I don’t think some door which closed on her put Mom in a coma. No. Because I remember coming to the hospital, thinking how can Mom’s body, or what she thinks, be so flimsy? How could Mom leave us alone like this? Why is it my mom who has to see some sleeping beast? My mom who hears this shriek? How can I ever possibly understand, how can it be explained now, what I might have to someday see myself at the end of this world? (Pause) Oh, I know Mom’s out of the hospital now. Sees a doctor. Has therapy. But I don’t think they know what’s up with Mom. How to put her back. I think Doctor Heisel just likes her. He calls. Misses her when she doesn’t make an appointment. But he doesn’t know about Mom. How she looks ahead. How she can see right past. What feels so solid to all the rest of us. (Sound of a car. SALLY and CHRISTOPHER go to a window.)