The Day That Henry 'Left Us...'

[Male monologue. Ages: from young teen-ager to adult of any age. This monologue has the mangled syntax that is a challenge to perform with realism. Reading it can be difficult. I recommend that you first read it out loud. As you do so - the rhythm and pace of it will become clear to you. This gives you a chance to show your thought process and emotions as you re-live a traumatic moment.]


I was working on a tree-house – hammerin’ – when I heard a ‘pop.’ It was that kind of muffled sound you hear – that sound where you know it’s inside somewhere and it musta been real loud but by the time it escaped the walls of ‘wherever’ it went off, it got dull.

I knew it came from over near Henry’s Greenhouse. So, I dropped from my tree, hit the ground and ran through the old orchard to Henry’s yard.

Henry’s greenhouse was locked, so I ran up to the farmhouse an’ knocked. That’s when Henry’s old friend – Mr. Parker drove in the yard. He’d come to visit Henry who was in a lot of pain.. He wasn’t doing so well with that --- that uh – ‘prostrate’ is it? Y’uh know – that prozth-- whatever – that cancer thing only guys get?

“Mr. Parker?” I told him, “I heard a noise! Like a dull ‘pop’ coming from here. I just ran over here but no one’s answering.

He looks at me and this real funny look hits his face. “You heard a ‘pop’ from clear across the orchard? he asked…his voice sounded really odd…

An – then – God, I’ll never forget it – then he quickly pushed by me an’ opened the door to the kitchen. An’ then you could hear him clear to the center of town -- ‘Oh my Christ Henry!!!” he’s shoutin’ – “What the hell have you done?!”

But there was no answer -- no sound at all.

I stepped into the kitchen an tried to peek around – but Mr. Parker blocked my way. An’ just then I felt something warm drip on my hair. I reached up an’ rubbed it. Then I saw on my fingers – it was something red and thick and liquid – and warm…I’ll never forget it being warm…..very warm.

I looked up an’ saw the ceiling was all red streaks – an’ everywhere there were these dents and holes from little “b-b’s.” [an’ I knew it was birdshot – an ‘ I knew it was from a shotgun an’ I knew for sure, then what the ‘pop’ was… It was, like Mr. Parker said – the ‘pop’ was – well, it was when Henry left us…[sigh]

There’s still a couple of old boards from the treehouse left up in the branches of the Oak Tree where I was buildin’ it. Whenever I happened to notice ‘em, for some damned reason, I hear that dull ‘pop’ in my mind.

And then I think of the day that Henry left us. An’ I just try to think of somethin’ else, anything else – as quick as I can.