Chelsea Mann, Cultivation

JONATHAN. Father, think this clearly. As long as the Lord lives, I will not harm a hair upon David.

SAUL. You! Leave! Leave! LEAVE! Agh! Curse this terrorizing spirit!!! JONATHAN exits and as his father starts to scream in agony due to a spirit terrorizing him. There is no one except SAUL in the throne room. Off to the side, JONATHAN meets with DAVID, who is attempting to enter the throne room.

JONATHAN. David, please you must leave.

DAVID. I cannot leave, my brother. Look, your father is in agony and as the harp player I must soothe his anguish.

JONATHAN. It is dangerous, David! He will kill you.

DAVID. Then you think lightly of God. Have faith brother. I will be fine for the Lord will not let him lay his hand on me.

JONATHAN. May the Lord compose your song to quell the King’s suffering.

JONATHAN exits off the stage and DAVID enters the center of the throne room. SAUL is crying on the ground, his robes and crown cast aside.

SAUL. From one cursing spirit to another, David approaches me!

DAVID. King Saul, I have come to soothe your agony.

SAUL. The only agony I have is your presence. AGH!

SAUL continuously yells in pain. DAVID takes off his outer robe and lays it on the ground to sit upon next to SAUL.

DAVID. [To himself] Lord bless this harp within my hands to play your melody. [To SAUL] Lord, lend thy ear upon mine suffering, listen to my pain and my heart’s groaning, you who delivers us from wickedness. Cast your love and wrap us in righteousness. We are sinful men who have turned our face, bring us back to the throne room of your grace.

SAUL begins to get up and walks over to the throne, a spear lies against it. DAVID continues playing the harp and singing with his eyes closed.

DAVID opens his eyes and quickly dodges the spear. The spear is lodged in the wall behind David.

DAVID. King Sau-

SAUL. Cursed be the Lord! Guards, capture David!

SAUL’S guards come in and attempt to catch DAVID. The flames that light the room are blown out by a mysterious wind and DAVID escapes under the veil of the shadows.

JONATHAN [sneaking in]. David let's go! Michal is waiting for you outside the walls.

DAVID looks back in pain as he exits the throne room and offers a prayer but Jonathan tugs at him to move. JONATHAN and DAVID exit.

SAUL. AGH! Light the torches! Where is he! AGH! [falls to the floor in anguish] Lord, when did I make that wish to be king! Cursed be this tormenting spirit and now David is gone.

END

CHELSEA MANN

PRIMROSE DOGGETT, a 30-year-old woman who has worked on her family’s farm her entire life.

CODY DOGGETT, her 17-year-old younger half-brother from the city.

A quaint farmhouse kitchen. In the middle of the stage is a dining table and chairs; on the table is a book. Along the back wall are counters, cupboards, a stove, a fridge, etc. The exit on the left leads to the inside of the home, while the exit on the right features a back door that leads outside. There is a window on the wall revealing a large sprawling countryside.

PRIMROSE enters from stage right through the door, carrying some heavy buckets with only a little strain.

PRIMROSE. Good mornin’, world! Hello! Anyone awake up there? These buckets of milk ain’t gonna carry theirselves! Well, at any rate, I ain’t about to carry ‘em anymore. Where is that dagnabbin’ little brother, anyway? What’s the point of havin’ him here if he don’t do nothin’?

PRIMROSE glances around and sees a book on the table, which she picks up and absentmindedly flips through.

PRIMROSE. What’s that kid left out now? Another one of his books? Huh… look at all these blueprints. He gonna build a house or something? Or… what’s this -- an apartment building? He’s always got all sorts a’ books on all sorts a’ different things. What’s the name of this book, anyway? Architecture… something-or-other. Building buildings, huh? Well, I built the barn myself. I know a thing or two about building buildings -- it ain’t so hard at all. Well, that one’s not bad at all. This one could use some more support. And won’t that let in a draft? I could fix that by just throwin’ up a wall right there. That’d do it, sure; and then--

CODY enters from stage right through the door, clutching a couple books and a handful of drooping flowers. He is studying the former intensely and does not notice PRIMROSE at first.

CODY. Hey, Dad, I’m back! I-- Oh. Morning, Prim. I didn’t know you’d be here. Were you reading one of my--

PRIMROSE. No. I just found it out here. You need to stop leavin’ your stuff out, you know.

PRIMROSE. Oh, my word! Cody Doggett, what on God’s good earth are you holding?

CODY. Um… more books? I was reading all about some scientific--

PRIMROSE. Not those, for heaven’s sake! I’m talking about the weeds in between your fingers.

CODY. Wh-- these? Oh, no! They’re flowers, see? I’ve never seen any like them before, so I thought I’d bring them back to the house. I was gonna put them in, like, a vase or something, you know? Just to brighten the place up, what with Dad being sick and all…

PRIMROSE. Gimme those. They’re weeds, plain n’ simple.

CODY. Hey, those are mine! And you didn’t even look at them! Besides, I’ve never seen them before. Don’t you think that’s something

PRIMROSE. The reason you ain’t never seen this before is ‘cause I pick all the weeds, most days. Since you’ve gotten here last month, all I’ve had’s more work, fer some reason. Now, get that other bucket and stick ‘em here in the ‘frigerator. Leave ‘em out for even a minute, n’ you’ll get bitter milk -- that’s a lie if my name’s not Primrose Doggett.

PRIMROSE tosses the flowers onto the counter and collects one of the milk buckets to put into the refrigerator. CODY, grunting, takes the other bucket with much more obvious strain and attempts to do the same.

CODY. Ha ha, really funny. Hey, you know why that is? The milk thing, I mean. I looked it up in my books, and they said that it’s from all the bacteria in the cow. As soon as the milk comes out, the bacteria starts eating all the sugar. That’s why the milk will get all gross and bitter if you don’t chill it right away.

PRIMROSE. Eh, bact-eerie-uh this and that. You’ve got chores to do. So no more a’ this book-readin’ n’ weed-pickin’ stuff in the mornin’. What with Daddy sick in bed n’ all, we’ve got one less pair of hands for things. So you’d better start makin’ yourself useful.

CODY. I’m sorry. It’s just that... I don’t know how to work on a farm, you know? I’ve lived in the city with my mom my whole life, and I’ve never even seen a real chicken before, let alone a horse. I’m kind of out of my element, that’s all.

CODY. I know. It’s just… maybe I can do some other things?

PRIMROSE. Like what?

CODY. I don’t know. Something that wouldn’t get in your way. O-or something to make things easier for you. Hey, that’s it! Why don’t I cook you some breakfast? Have you eaten yet?

PRIMROSE. Eh, just a bite. Daddy’s usually the one who cooks, when he ain’t sick or tired. I ain’t never been very good at it.

CODY. You know, I used to cook dinner all the time, back when my mom and I lived in the city. I always had to play chef, and I tried to have something on the table every night when she came home from work. I think I was getting pretty good at it, until… well…

PRIMROSE. She died.

CODY. ...Yeah. Anyway, um… I could probably teach you a thing or two, if you want. About cooking, I mean.

PRIMROSE. Wait, teach me? You know you’re on my farm, right? If anyone’s got a thing to learn, it’s you.

CODY. Well, it might be your farm, but I’m pretty sure this is my kitchen, now. Let’s see what you guys have on hand… ah! Do you know what this is that I’m holding?

PRIMROSE. Sure. You flip yer hotcakes with it.

CODY. It’s called a spatula.

PRIMROSE. Spat-you-what? You’d better not be spittin’ into my food, or you’ll sleep in the barn, you little--

CODY. No, no, no! This tool here is called a spatula. Here, take it. Now, this here is a ladle. You use it to serve things, like soup. But you probably knew that. Anyway, this here is a grater, which looks like a cowbell but actually--

PRIMROSE. What are you tellin’ all this to me for? You’re the one that’s cookin’, not me.

CODY. I figured we can teach each other things. I’ll teach you to cook, and you teach me to… uh, farm, I guess.

PRIMROSE. Who said anything about teachin’ you to farm? That’s something you learn yourself. Ain’t nobody taught me, and ain’t nobody gonna teach you. You just suck it up and do it right, ‘fore you pay for it. You’d best write that down, ‘cause that’s the only lesson I’m teachin’ you, make no mistake.

CODY. Oh… alright. A-anyway, it doesn’t matter. The point is, we might as well both know how to make something nice. I’m sure Dad would appreciate it. As they talk, they begin to cook breakfast.

CODY starts taking out food from the fridge and preparing the stove, while PRIMROSE mainly gathers utensils and flatware to set the table.

PRIMROSE. Come to think of it, what do you know about the old man, anyway? You’ve only known him for a month by now, but you’ve gotten used to callin’ him ‘Dad’ pretty quick...

CODY. Yeah, I guess so. It’s just that... I’ve always wondered what my real dad was like, and even though he’s a little more cowpoke-y than I imagined, he seems like he knows a lot. After seeing so many of my mom’s boyfriends come and go, it’s nice to meet a guy that’ll actually stay, you know? I just wish we could have met under... better circumstances...

PRIMROSE. Your mama ever talk about him at all?

CODY. Yeah, a little. Not much. Just that he had a farm, and a wife, and four daughters. She didn’t get to know that much about him in that week they were, well… together. Secret fling and all. You know, come to think of it, when am I going to meet them? The other sisters, I mean. I’ve been here for a month but they’re never around.

PRIMROSE. It’s ‘cause they up and left a long time ago. They all got their own families and such.

CODY. You didn’t want to go, too?

PRIMROSE. Go where?

CODY. To make a family of your own and stuff. You know, get married, have babies -- all those things that grown-ups do.

CODY. How do you know? Have you tried going out before?

PRIMROSE. And what, leave Daddy behind? He can’t afford to hire anybody to run this place. I’m all he’s got now.

CODY. And me.

PRIMROSE. ...Yeah, I guess so. For now.

CODY. For now? What do you mean? You’re not sending me away, are you?

PRIMROSE. ‘Course I’m not. But you’ll leave when the time comes. In fact, I’ll bet my bottom dollar you’re itchin’ to go to some fancy college by next year -- seventeen and all.

CODY. Well, yeah, of course. Mom always said it’s important to get a real job, and I agree.

PRIMROSE. ...Are you saying that this ain’t a real job?

CODY. What? Oh, no, I just meant that--

PRIMROSE. Do you know what it takes to do what I do? I’ve been runnin’ this farm for longer than you’ve been alive. Ain’t nobody told me how to do it. Daddy’s been hard to help ever since that fall from the tractor, and the sickness in his bones setting in besides. Mama up and left us when I was barely twelve years old, n’ wouldn’t even tell us why. Just ‘pick who you wanna live with,’ she said. Now it turns out she’d caught him in bed with your mama; maybe if she’d just said that, I wouldn’t have been left to raise three sisters on my own -- just so they could up and leave this blasted heath for a better life! Oh, but me? I stayed; I stayed out of spite against them, and her, and maybe the whole world. I’ve lived with the old man for thirty years, and I’ll be damned if I leave this place before him! It’s the least I can do; no, it’s the least anyone can do -- imagine everybody just standing up one day and leaving you. Oh, God! Why imagine when everyone’s done it already? And one day, Daddy’ll pass into sweet Heaven with your mama, too, and ain’t nobody’ll be here for sad, stupid old Primrose, on her sad, stupid old farm. But you know what? Maybe it’s for the best that way; the farm’s the only thing that won’t leave me, isn’t it? (Pause.) God, put that stuff away, already! Just stop yer cookin’ n’ readin’ n’ flower-pickin’; it ain’t worth nothing to nobody in the end. Now clean this mess up, before the farm goes bottom-up already.

CODY. ...I’m sorry. I--

PRIMROSE. God, don’t bother. You came here ‘cause your mama died, n’ all you’ve got is yer sick daddy n’ a screwed up sister. It ain’t your fault yer family’s the way it is.

CODY. No, I meant that I’m sorry about what happened to you. My mom shouldn’t have forced her way into your family, and your mom should have told you the truth about what happened. Most importantly, our dad shouldn’t have made you run this farm on your own. You were just a kid.

PRIMROSE. Eh, it hasn’t been all bad. Having you here for an ear is one thing -- that wouldn’t happened without some good, old-fashioned adultery. And anyway, there ain’t no point in cryin’ over spilled milk. Happens too often ‘round here to be worth anything.

CODY. Just because it happens doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try to clean it up.

PRIMROSE. What, you’re gonna try and fix our childhoods? Unless you’ve got the blueprints for a time machine in those books a’ yours, you’re gonna be out of luck.

CODY. All I’m saying is that you don’t have to be stuck here.

PRIMROSE. I ain’t stuck; I’m loyal.

CODY. Loyal? Loyal to what, Primrose? Dad? The farm? You know, I don’t think you actually want these things; I think you’re just scared of the possibility of people leaving you.

PRIMROSE. What’s a ‘possibility’ about it? It’s happened, ain’t it? Mama, my sisters -- they all left me. Daddy stays for me, and I’ll stay for him. You wouldn’t understand.

CODY. Actually, I think I do. Every guy my mom brought home would pull the same ‘buddy buddy’ routine on me, and I’d always wonder -- just maybe they would stay this time. Maybe I would finally be the kid who had a dad like everybody else -- only for them to leave a few months later. I know what it’s like to have people leave. Hell, my mom’s gone too -- forever. But you aren’t alone, Prim. Your sisters are still here for you; I’m still here for you.