HOLIDAY DIARY REDUX
A Ritual in One Movement
By Edgar Chisholm
CHARACTERS (MINIMUM 4 ACTORS; AN EXPANDABLE ENSEMBLE)
SON/CHORUS: A young black man. The voice of memory and witness.
FATHER: (HENRY MELTON SR.) - A black man of pride.
MOTHER: (MARGE) A black woman of quiet, but enduring force.
MEN/MAN / CHORUS: One man or many. The bar. The world.
Hypermasculine, physical. They are the heat that shapes men.
Note on Casting: This play is written from within a Black
American emotional and cultural frame, and productions are
strongly encouraged to center BIPOC actors, particularly in
the family roles. At the same time, the play may be performed
by any actors who can credibly embody the family as an
American household shaped by shared history, intimacy, and
social pressure. The MEN/MAN functions as a physical chorus;
their movement is rhythmic, percussive, and ritualized at
times resembling dance, at times something more primal. They
generate the heat that shapes men.
Synopsis: A young man relives the night he was initiated into
manhood, only to realize that what was forged in him could
cost him his father's love.
AT RISE
A drumbeat. Low. Steady. Like a hammer on an anvil.
The SON stands in a pool of cool, blue light.
SON / CHORUS
My father believed men are forged. (beat)
Not raised. Every man's heart-- smelted.
(The SON looks across the stage.)
(A red pool of light.)
(A baby cries. The light flickers blue-- red.)
(MOTHER sits, holding the child.)
(FATHER enters.)
[To the tune of "Oh, Holy Night"]
MOTHER
"The stars are brightly shining, it is the night of my dear
Savior's birth, long lay the world, in sin and error pining
till he appeared, and the soul felt its worth..."
FATHER
(FATHER stops more than five feet away from MOTHER)
Marge...
MOTHER
Henry! Finally!
FATHER
Everyone's celebrating Christmas.
I closed up.
Alone.
MOTHER
Shhh! Not so loud-- the baby. Henry, I know you would have
been here if you could have.
FATHER
He's... small.
MOTHER
He's alive.
FATHER
He's fragile.
MOTHER
The Mississippi starts in Minnesota-- seven steps across.
At its end-- eleven miles wide.
(beat)
MOTHER
Hold him.
(Mother thrusts child in father's arms)
FATHER
His face is all wet.
(The baby cries)
MOTHER
Tears.
CHORUS
Water.
(Lights snap. Back to SON.)
SON / CHORUS
My father saw something within me, something fluid, something
soft.
(beat)
He said the world has hands-- and those hands do not pet.
They strike at the part that matters. (beat)
He decided to strike first.
Boil away the soft.
(We hear the sound of the Hammering Beat on an anvil.)
Down to the iron.
I write only on holidays. The days the heart is allowed to
matter.
(The Sound of A DOOR SLAM.)
(Warm, harsh light floods the stage. FATHER enters.)
FATHER
I spoke to Beals. (beat)
His boy came home bragging--
said he and his friends beat down a--
(He stops himself, then forces it.)
--a faggot.
(The light flickers blue-- red.)
MOTHER
Henry!
FATHER
That's what he said. To my face. With a grin.
(beat)
Who gave him the right to name my son?
SON / CHORUS (ASIDE)
Sticks and stones. Names bruise deeper than fists.
FATHER
I stand in that gas station all day--
(The light flickers blue-- red.)
men looking at me--
like I'm standing in something rotten. (beat)
My son.
No.
MOTHER
It's one man.
FATHER
A man can be a world.
(beat)
Junior! Get down here.
(The SON steps forward.)
SON
Yes, sir.
FATHER
Get your coat.
MOTHER
Where are you taking him?
FATHER
To be forged.
(beat)
In fire.
MOTHER
What if he cracks? He doesn't need it. Water has its own way.
It finds a way through.
FATHER
This is Pittsburgh. He's gotta take heat.
SON / CHORUS (TO AUDIENCE)
A lesson. (beat)
A baptism.
MOTHER
He will break.
(LIGHT SHIFT-- Blue is gone. harsh orange remains.)
(The anvil strike grows louder.)
(MAN / MEN of the chorus appear in sync with the anvil
strike. They are unrelenting heat.)
SON / CHORUS
My father led me into his furnace--
Shanghai Lil's Bar and Grill.
Where water is boiled away.
MAN / MEN
(Overlapping, rhythmic)
Boil it away! Burn it! Beat it!
Drink. Forge. Take.
(FATHER approaches SON)
SON
Pop slaps a beer in my hand. The glass sweats. I sweat.
He wraps me in the crook of his arm-- (beat)
(He leans into his father's arm.)
SON / CHORUS
A first.
I'll never forget. The fever of it.
FATHER
This my boy! My only boy!
MAN / MEN
(They stamp their feet and slap their thighs to the rhythm
of the anvil.)
That's his boy! His only boy! Pour the iron! Cast the man!
SON
I square my shoulders, tilt my head up, and
I walk like Tupac-- but stiffer.
I drawl like John Wayne.
SON / CHORUS
We steal what we must.
MAN / MEN
(Whispering, hissing like steam hitting hot iron)
Pretend... Pretend... Pretend...
(SILENCE. The orange light shifts to sickly, neon.)
SON
She comes to me.
MAN / MEN
(Whispered.)
Bernice-- hissssss.
SON
In my best John Wayne voice: "I heard you was looking for
me."
She snatches my belt. (As if pulled by his belt in slow
motion, SON slides forward)
My heart rises into my throat.
I freeze. (beat)
She takes my breath.
Her room smells of lilacs. (beat)
I vomit. (SON stumbles downstage. He falls to his knees,
gasping, wiping his mouth.)
I can't stop.
Shaking.
My body screams.
Stop. (beat) Stop. (beat) Stop. (beat) Stop...
MAN / MEN
(rhythmically, the MAN / MEN move as if pressing and
watering a forge.)
Water! Heat! Water! Heat! Heat! Heat! Heat!
(Everyone freezes except the SON.)
SON
Am I--
(beat)
set?
SON / CHORUS
No. (he grabs his chest with both hands)
Cracked. (Shaking, the son stumbles toward the MAN / MEN
who surround him)
MAN / MEN
Be cool. Let it set. Show your iron. Pull him out...Sssssss.
(SON's hands tremble. He forces them into fists, and the
fluid boy falls to his knees. The rigid, deadened
"Tupac/John Wayne" slowly rises. He strikes a pose. We hear
a cracking sound and a babies cry. Then...)
SON
Yeah.
MAN / MEN
Spank him! Lift him!
High! Raise him. Ho!
(Violently, he's raised.)
FATHER
That's my boy!
SON / CHORUS
Say it again.
FATHER
That's my boy!
SON / CHORUS
His boy!
Those words, I hold--
like a breath forty feet underwater.
SON / CHORUS
Something moves in the water.
(beat)
Into the crack.
Unseen.
Unnamed.
Patient.
MUSIC BEGINS -- "AULD LANG SYNE"
(FATHER waits in golden light, arms open.)
(SON crosses to him and falls into his embrace. "CLUNK!"
Metal hitting metal.)
(They hug and sing.)
FATHER & SON (SINGING)
Should auld acquaintance be forgot, and never brought to
mind...
SON / CHORUS
This is our moment. A moment I keep. (beat)
(FATHER smiles.) (beat)
(The SON shifts. He smiles. His eyes do not.) (beat)
And something passes--
Not love.
Not pride. (beat)
Something quieter.
MUSIC CONTINUES UNDER
(MOTHER appears upstage bible to chest. Still. Watching.)
SON
This is the greatest night of my life.
MUSIC CUTS
(The FATHER freezes in the embrace. The warm light
vanishes. Cool blue light remains on the MOTHER, and a
stark, white spot on the SON. SON slips the embrace and
walks stage center.)
SON / CHORUS
In my future--
(Beat)
I never write on holidays.
From an apartment miles away--
In the arms of my partner--
I want to ask pop--
(He looks at the frozen tableau of his parents. He moves
to Father.)
Would four letters on a page
make him love me less?
(He slides back into Father's embrace.)
That night he held me.
But I was gone--
steam in his arms.
(The SON smiles broadly. It doesn't hold. The SON freezes.
The light flickers blue-- red.)
(The drum bangs on.)
BLACKOUT.
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