Transference
A play in one session
This short play is part of the NOISE/QUIET cycle. If you are just joining, I recommend starting at the beginning with Overture: Sound Collage Collapse which can be read here. If you are returning and want to remember the play that came before this in the cycle, you can read Lizard People here.
I had the back story for this play years ago, but couldn’t figure out how to dramatize the idea. I was fascinated with the premise, yet every time I came back to the scenario, I couldn’t sort out what would happen after the inciting incident. Yet the idea haunted me—like a possession.
Then I thought, “What if there isn’t anything more to the story? What if you already have everything you need to create gripping drama? Maybe you’re overcomplicating it.”
When I came up with the idea to frame the action within a therapy session, I wrote the play very quickly, and was delighted with the result.
This was a good lesson for me in trusting the value of an idea and accepting “less is more.” It helped me understand I don’t always need to elaborate, sometimes I just need a container.
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Transference
A BOY (between 8 and 10) sits in a THERAPIST’s office. The office should be minimal but serene. The BOY may be sitting on a couch and the THERAPIST in a chair. There is a desk with drawers nearby. There could be books, a small table with a box of tissues, or any items that might be found in a typical therapist’s office. If we hear anything, it could be the sound of a white noise machine therapists use to ensure outsiders cannot hear what is said in session.
BOY: Will you tell my parents everything I say?
THERAPIST: I’m going to meet with them later and talk about what you and I discuss. That’s the standard procedure. Is that alright?
BOY: I guess.
THERAPIST: Good. How was your week?
BOY: OK I guess.
THERAPIST: Did you go back to school?
BOY: No.
THERAPIST: What’s it like being away from school for so long?
BOY: Boring.
THERAPIST: Do you miss school?
BOY: No.
THERAPIST: Do you miss the other kids?
BOY: Yeah.
THERAPIST: What did you do at home all week?
BOY: (BOY looks at the corner of the room, away from THERAPIST.) Homework.
THERAPIST: That’s all? You didn’t go outside and play with anyone?
BOY: The other kids don’t want to be around me. Because of the smell.
THERAPIST: Did the doctor say what’s causing it?
BOY: He said it could be an infection. But I think he’s wrong.
THERAPIST: I’m sure it’ll clear up soon.
BOY: I can’t smell it, but everyone else can. Can you?
THERAPIST: I can.
BOY: How bad is it?
THERAPIST: Mmm… It’s strong.
BOY: What does it smell like?
THERAPIST: Kind of a mix between eggs and wet wool.
BOY: Ew.
THERAPIST: If the doctor says it’ll clear up, I’m sure it will. Besides homework, did anything else happen this week?
BOY: (Looks in the corner.)
THERAPIST: I notice you’ve looked in the corner a couple of times.
BOY: Uh-huh.
THERAPIST: I just wondered what you might be looking at.
BOY: You won’t believe me.
THERAPIST: So you did see something in the corner?
BOY: (Looks in the corner.)
THERAPIST: Do you have a scratch on your face?
BOY: Yes.
THERAPIST: How did you get it?
BOY: You won’t believe me.
THERAPIST: You’ve said that. How do you know I won’t believe you?
BOY: Nobody does. They think I’m making it up.
THERAPIST: What are you making up?
BOY: Like when my mom came into my room and it was all messed up. She yelled at me, but I didn’t do it.
THERAPIST: Who messed up your room?
BOY: (Looks in the corner.)
THERAPIST: Can you tell me what you see in the corner?
BOY: …
THERAPIST: Let’s play a game. Pretend I’m someone who believes everything you say.
BOY: That doesn’t sound like a game.
THERAPIST: It might be fun. Give it a try.
BOY: How do you win that game?
THERAPIST: It’s not a game about winning and losing. It’s a game that might let me help you. Which is fun for me. Helping people is my favorite thing to do.
BOY: Ok.
THERAPIST: Great! Thank you. When we met with your parents, they said this started after the day in the park.
BOY: Uh-huh.
THERAPIST: What were you doing in the park?
BOY: I was playing kickball with the other boys.
THERAPIST: Were you having fun?
BOY: No.
THERAPIST: Why not?
BOY: We were losing.
THERAPIST: Ah.
BOY: Noah said it was all my fault.
THERAPIST: You’re not good at kickball?
BOY: No, Noah just doesn’t like me.
THERAPIST: Is Noah the boy you got into a fight with?
BOY: There was no fight.
THERAPIST: Then how did you end up in the hospital?
BOY: You won’t…
THERAPIST: Ah come on, you were doing so good. Pretend I’m someone who will believe anything you say, even if it’s unbelievable.
BOY: (Looks in the corner.)
THERAPIST: Look at me, not the corner.
BOY: Lucas kicked the ball and it went up in the air. Then it bounced to the corner of the park and we watched it bounce right into the garbage can.
THERAPIST: Good aim.
BOY: It was an accident.
THERAPIST: And then what happened?
BOY: Everyone started yelling at Lucas. They called him names. Lucas didn’t want to go over to the garbage can to get the ball back.
THERAPIST: Why not?
BOY: It was in a part of the park we’re not supposed to go into.
THERAPIST: I see.
BOY: Lucas was afraid he’d get in trouble. I said I’d get it for him so we could play.
THERAPIST: That was a very nice thing to do. Sounds as if you like helping people too. We have something in common.
BOY: Lucas didn’t do it on purpose.
THERAPIST: So you went over to the garbage can?
BOY: Yes.
THERAPIST: Then what happened?
BOY: I looked in the garbage can and there wasn’t any trash in it. But it smelled really bad.
THERAPIST: I’ll bet it did.
BOY: The ball was in the bottom of the can. So I reached down to get it.
THERAPIST: And then what happened?
BOY: You won’t…
THERAPIST: Ahem!
BOY: Something scratched me. I thought it was a rat. I tried to pull my hand out but it grabbed my arm. It kept scratching and biting me. I screamed.
THERAPIST: What were the boys doing when this happened?
BOY: Everyone thinks the boys hurt me. But they didn’t. It was the thing in the garbage can.
THERAPIST: Did the boys ever hurt you before?
BOY: No.
THERAPIST: Did they call you names before, like the names they called Lucas?
BOY: Yes.
THERAPIST: What names did they call you?
BOY: Weirdo. Freak. Loser.
THERAPIST: That’s not very nice. Why were you playing with boys who call you names?
BOY: The boys call everyone names.
THERAPIST: Were you mad at them?
BOY: I already told you, the boys didn’t scratch and bite me. The thing in the garbage can did.
THERAPIST: The boys didn’t help you when you were trying to get the ball?
BOY: I don’t remember.
THERAPIST: What do you remember?
BOY: I woke up in the hospital. I had to get stitches.
THERAPIST: That must have hurt.
BOY: I don’t know. I was asleep.
THERAPIST: You were asleep when they gave you stiches?
BOY: Yes. They gave me medicine to make me sleep.
THERAPIST: Do you remember why?
BOY: Because I screamed.
THERAPIST: Why did you scream?
BOY: When I woke up in the hospital, I saw it on the bed.
THERAPIST: What was it?
BOY: The thing!
THERAPIST: The thing from the garbage can?
BOY: Yes. It was on the bed next to me.
THERAPIST: Was it scratching you?
BOY: No.
THERAPIST: What was it doing?
BOY: It was… just looking at me.
THERAPIST: Did it say anything?
BOY: No. It doesn’t talk. It makes noises sometimes.
THERAPIST: What kind of noises?
BOY: Like an animal.
THERAPIST: What does it look like?
BOY: It looks like a pig and a dog and a raccoon with long claws.
THERAPIST: It changes?
BOY: No. Like all of them mixed together.
THERAPIST: When you were younger, do you remember if you ever had an imaginary friend?
BOY: It’s not imaginary! I knew you wouldn’t believe me.
THERAPIST: So it followed you from the park to the hospital?
BOY: It follows me everywhere.
THERAPIST: Is it here? In the corner?
BOY: (BOY’s attitude changes. He lights up a little.) Yes.
THERAPIST: What is it doing?
BOY: It’s just looking at me.
THERAPIST: Is that all it ever does?
BOY: No. It made a mess in my room.
THERAPIST: Why did it do that?
BOY: Because I tried to get away from it. I ran out of the room and closed the door behind me. It got really mad and threw all my toys around and ripped up my pillows. When I opened the door, it jumped on me and scratched me.
THERAPIST: That’s the scratch on your face?
BOY: Yes. And when I told my mom about it she blamed me. Everyone thinks I’m making it up. But I’m not. I’m not!
THERAPIST: Ok, relax.
BOY: Why doesn’t anybody believe me?
THERAPIST: Let’s take a step back to cool down for a minute. (THERAPIST takes candy from desk.) Normally a therapist isn’t supposed to do this, but how about we both have a piece of chocolate, just to change the mood?
BOY: Chocolate is way better than this game.
THERAPIST: (Hands BOY chocolate. They eat it.) But you won.
BOY: I did? How?
THERAPIST: You convinced me. About the thing.
BOY: You believe me? That it’s real?
THERAPIST: I believe you believe it’s real.
BOY: That’s not the same thing.
THERAPIST: You’re right. But that is what I will tell your parents.
BOY: (Looks in the corner.) They don’t believe me either. I’m going to be stuck with this smelly thing forever and ever. (BOY begins to cry.)
THERAPIST: Hey, look at me.
BOY: What?
THERAPIST: Honestly? Between you and me, no parents… I do believe you.
BOY: You do?
THERAPIST: I do.
BOY: (The boy sighs with relief. He bites down on the chocolate.)
(Pause.)
BOY: Do you smell that?
THERAPIST: No actually, I smelled something before, but now it’s gone.
BOY: (Looks in the corner) Look! It’s gone!
THERAPIST: (THERAPIST looks in the corner. Quietly:) Oh my god. (Slowly stands. Terrified. To BOY:) I want you to slowly stand up and move toward the door.
BOY: You see it now, don’t you?
THERAPIST: Quietly, move to the door. Now.
BOY: (BOY gets up and moves. He opens the door.) I’m sorry.
THERAPIST: Shh…
BOY: (Whispers.) Thank you for helping me.
THERAPIST: (THERAPIST looks at the boy. Then the corner. THERAPIST is frozen in fear looking at the thing in the corner.)
BOY: (As he’s about to leave.) One last thing.
THERAPIST: (Half stunned.) Huh?
BOY: Watch out for the claws.
BLACKOUT
The sound of MAY and JUNE laughing as we transition into While We Wait 2.
Playwright’s Note:
The “thing” should not be something the audience can see. It should not be a third actor, a puppet or a projection. It should be invisible to the audience—only seen by the characters. It may work to hear the sound of scratching or snarling in the blackout or it may be best to hear nothing, whichever sends a chill down the audience’s spine.
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Continue the Cycle
Next: While We Wait 2—A play about books and breaking points
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Really fun read.