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Curtain rises on the home. Empty living room with stairs that lead to
second floor and other doors that lead to kitchen and other parts of
the house. The living room is tasteful and expensive, but not ornate.
After a moment GRANT rushes in and calls out as he turns to lock the
front door.
GRANT: Alice, Alice!
ALICE comes down the stair. She is in the middle of taking off her
clothes from work.
ALICE: What is it? I’ll be right there as soon as – are you
early?
GRANT: Thank god you’re home. I’ve been so worried. I was
afraid it might have gotten to you. Is the back door locked?
ALICE: I suppose. I can check.
GRANT: No, wait. I’ll go.
He exits quickly.
ALICE: Grant, it’s not…?
GRANT returns to the room.
GRANT: It’s coming. I heard the first sound this afternoon.
ALICE is obviously disturbed. She crosses down the stair to him.
ALICE: Was it outside of inside?
GRANT: A little tinkle when I left campus. I left early. I was
going to look at dolls.
ALICE: A tinkle? Bells? Not silver bells?
GRANT: Silver bells, yes. Silver bells in the city.
ALICE: It could have been something else – a bicycle.
GRANT: No, silver bells – not bicycle bells. This was the first
tinkle – I know what it was. I’m writing a goddamn book on the
subject. I know what I’m talking about.
ALICE: Well, I would have heard something. I’m always listening
– that’s what I do.
GRANT: That’s what I do too. Remember – psychiatrist.
ALICE: Yes, but I really listen. Remember – speech pathology and
noted linguist.
GRANT: I know what I heard and I know what we have to do –
ALICE: but this early? Grant, it’s not even cold.
GRANT: It gets earlier every year. In a few weeks you’ll walk into
the stores and see skeletons next to crèches – witches and tinsel
– Jack-o-lanterns and Jesus. The sacred and the profane cheek to
jowl – one aisle all orange and black and the next one red and
green. Carols being drowned out by the shrieks of motion activated
ghouls. They push it up earlier and earlier every year –
ALICE: No, Thanksgiving is still official. The parade and Santa –
you know – at the end. Then you have a month.
GRANT: Alice, you’re living in the past. Today they’d have him
delivering fireworks in July if they thought they could get away with
it. Gnomes with missing fingers loading up the sleigh with Roman
Candles. It’s just earlier and earlier and longer and longer. Soon
it’ll be year round and the suicide rate will be through the roof
– twelve months a year.
ALICE: Aren’t there laws?
GRANT: Alice, we’re talking about making money here – laws! The
only law is make as much money as you can and let us all be damned.
ALICE: But this early? Are you sure?
GRANT: I know what I heard. I nearly slipped and fell when I heard
it. I was going to look at dolls – see what’s new – those new
interactive dolls that dies if you don’t feed them properly.
ALICE: There’s a gift for your little darling –
GRANT: So I thought I’d walk over to the toy store – exercise –
and then I heard a tiny tinkle. I spun around so fast that I almost
fell down. No one else seemed to notice, they just kept walking
blindly toward their doom.
Suddenly he realizes something.
Where’s Meredith?
ALICE: Oh, my god, she’s with Candace and her mother – they said
they might to mall –
GRANT: Call her – call her – it hits there before anywhere –
call her!
ALICE: The phone? Where’s the phone?
GRANT: I’ll look on the sofa – you check the bedroom.
Alice stars up the stairs. Grant finds something which he holds up.
GRANT: Here it is.
He presses a button and the television comes on and blares out with
Christmas music.
TV VOICE: …around the corner – so get started –
GRANT: See! See!
He turns off the television. ALICE comes down the stairs horrified.
ALICE: My god, it’s here – and she’s out there—our baby,
actually your baby – my step baby.
GRANT: She’s not strong enough – she can’t face the pressure.
We haven’t prepared her. I have to go save her.
Someone tries to open the door which is locked.
VOICE FROM OUTSIDE: Whoa! Hey, Mom, who locked the door?
ALICE: It’s Baxter. Is that you Baxter?
BAXTER: Naw, Mom, it’s your other son, the one who you accidentally
sent to the cleaners twenty-five years ago. I’m back and boy am I
pissed.
ALICE: Are you alone?
BAXTER: Just me and the posse – righteous gangstas on the loose.
GRANT: Ask him where he’s been – he might be carrying something.
ALICE: You ask him – I can’t talk to him through a door –
communications barriers are already bad enough between us.
GRANT: Baxter, this is your father.
BAXTER: Okay, sounds cool.
GRANT: We’re going to let you in, but you have to get in very
quickly when I open the door.
BAXTER: Sounds like fun, Dad.
GRANT: Get ready.
GRANT opens the door and BAXTER a college age boy, rushes in.
BAXTER: That was fun. I’m not a latch key kid anymore?
ALICE notices Baxter’s backpack.
ALICE: What’s that on your back?
BAXTER: Alien pod? Unfinished Hunchback costumes for Halloween?
Harmless backpack? You and Dad get into some of those
psychopharmaceuticals he’s been pushing?
ALICE: What’s in the backpack?
BAXTER: I don’t know. I never us it – I just wear it so I’ll
blend in and look like a dork at community college.
ALICE: I tried to get you into Yale, remember? But with your police
record –
BAXTER: Misdemeanors.
GRANT: Don’t start on that again. Just check the backpack. Check
it now!
BAXTER dumps out the contents of backpack and goes through it.
BAXTER: All right. Let’s see – lots of papers – oh, I passed
Freshman English.
ALICE: That was last year.
BAXTER: It’s an old paper – most of these are old papers. A
condom. Unused.
GRANT: I’m not sure I’m happy about that –
BAXTER: That I have a condom?
GRANT: That it’s unused –
BAXTER: Well, if it were used – oh, here’s that girl’s number,
damn.
ALICE: What else? Just dump it all out – we can’t be too
careful. Look it over with me, Grant.
BAXTER: What is it? It’s the paranoia research, right? I told you
both –
ALICE: Your father thinks he heard something.
GRANT: I don’t think – I know – I don’t hallucinate – my
patients hallucinate.
BAXTER: So what didn’t you hallucinate today? Not that textured
quality to the hood of the car again?
GRANT: No, that hasn’t happened for months.
ALICE: Tell him.
GRANT: I heard the first tinkle. Today. The first tinkle of
Christmas.
BAXTER: Oh, god. Then maybe I heard it too – on campus – between
classes – it was carried by the wind or something. Kind of like a
bell – metallic –
ALICE: Silver?
BAXTER: Metallic – silver – bell –
GRANT: A silver bell – the first tinkle.
BAXTER: Oh, Christ, where’s the phone, I’ve got some business
that just can’t wait.
ALICE: We were looking for the phone when you came to the door.
GRANT: I found the remote.
BAXTER: Hell of a lot of good that’s going to do me – I need a
phone.
ALICE: We need to us if first. Meredith may be on her way to a mall
right now.
BAXTER: What? Oh, Christ, Dad. You still haven’t told her that
there’s no Santa? I thought you were going to tell her. If you
don’t tell her, you’re going to have some messed up
grandchildren.
GRANT: I was going to tell her! I was! I was just waiting for the
right time.
BAXTER: When would that be? Your death bed?
GRANT: I don’t just tell her – it’s a program. A method I’m
working on – a program –
BAXTER: You’re deprogramming her? Sensory deprivation and water
boarding – so cool, Dad.
ALICE: I suggested to your father that it not be called deprogramming
–
GRANT: Right, your mother has a real feel for language.
BAXTER: So what do you call it?
ALICE AND GRANT: De-Santa-tizing.
BAXTER: You’re kidding.
GRANT: De-Santa-tizing. And we don’t call it deprogramming, we
call it “exit counseling.”
BAXTER: You can call it Maholo Blahnick and Sis is still going to be
very upset when she discovers that the whole ho-ho-ho routine is
bogus. But you better get on it.
GRANT: No, no! I can’t be rushed – it’s very traumatic –
I’ve got that chapter in my book all about it. It’s the very
basis of the holiday depression –
BAXTER: Santa?
GRANT: Not Santa as such – it’s SD.
BAXTER: What?
ALICE: The Santa Discovery – I don’t think you read your
father’s book, Baxter.
BAXTER: I skimmed it – I’m in college – I have lots of parties
I have to go to.
GRANT: It just makes psychological sense – SD – there you are
believing in an entire philosophical system where your good deeds are
rewarded with material possessions. Plus, your entire life has been
scrutinized –
ALICE: He sees you when you’re sleeping…he know when you’re
awake.
BAXTER: He knows if you’ve been bad or good…
GRANT: Exactly. Your entire life – every waking and sleeping
moment observed, rated, and ultimately rewarded. And it’s not like
some abstract god who sends nebulous rewards. This isn’t inner
peach – this is waking up Christmas morning to find a doll that
cries itself to sleep when you leave the room.
ALICE: They have such things?
GRANT: “Life like Laurie – she’ll keep you up all night.” I
saw it on television.
BAXTER: I remember the year I told Santa “paint pellet gun –
paint pellet gun.” And somehow he misunderstood “paint pellet
gun” and brought me fuzzy slippers. Paint pellet gun – fuzzy
slippers. I got very suspicious then.
GRANT: So there you are – all this structure supported everywhere
you look – and you parents are part of the conspiracy.
ALICE: And I call myself a mother. You try to be open and honest
with them and then you remind them to leave the cookies for Santa –
there’s got to be a linguistic description for that – a word for
that.
BAXTER: Yeah – lying.
Christmas Stopping
Opening Scene
Curtain rises on the home. Empty living room with stairs that lead to
second floor and other doors that lead to kitchen and other parts of
the house. The living room is tasteful and expensive, but not ornate.
After a moment GRANT rushes in and calls out as he turns to lock the
front door.
GRANT: Alice, Alice!
ALICE comes down the stair. She is in the middle of taking off her
clothes from work.
ALICE: What is it? I’ll be right there as soon as – are you
early?
GRANT: Thank god you’re home. I’ve been so worried. I was
afraid it might have gotten to you. Is the back door locked?
ALICE: I suppose. I can check.
GRANT: No, wait. I’ll go.
He exits quickly.
ALICE: Grant, it’s not…?
GRANT returns to the room.
GRANT: It’s coming. I heard the first sound this afternoon.
ALICE is obviously disturbed. She crosses down the stair to him.
ALICE: Was it outside of inside?
GRANT: A little tinkle when I left campus. I left early. I was
going to look at dolls.
ALICE: A tinkle? Bells? Not silver bells?
GRANT: Silver bells, yes. Silver bells in the city.
ALICE: It could have been something else – a bicycle.
GRANT: No, silver bells – not bicycle bells. This was the first
tinkle – I know what it was. I’m writing a goddamn book on the
subject. I know what I’m talking about.
ALICE: Well, I would have heard something. I’m always listening
– that’s what I do.
GRANT: That’s what I do too. Remember – psychiatrist.
ALICE: Yes, but I really listen. Remember – speech pathology and
noted linguist.
GRANT: I know what I heard and I know what we have to do –
ALICE: but this early? Grant, it’s not even cold.
GRANT: It gets earlier every year. In a few weeks you’ll walk into
the stores and see skeletons next to crèches – witches and tinsel
– Jack-o-lanterns and Jesus. The sacred and the profane cheek to
jowl – one aisle all orange and black and the next one red and
green. Carols being drowned out by the shrieks of motion activated
ghouls. They push it up earlier and earlier every year –
ALICE: No, Thanksgiving is still official. The parade and Santa –
you know – at the end. Then you have a month.
GRANT: Alice, you’re living in the past. Today they’d have him
delivering fireworks in July if they thought they could get away with
it. Gnomes with missing fingers loading up the sleigh with Roman
Candles. It’s just earlier and earlier and longer and longer. Soon
it’ll be year round and the suicide rate will be through the roof
– twelve months a year.
ALICE: Aren’t there laws?
GRANT: Alice, we’re talking about making money here – laws! The
only law is make as much money as you can and let us all be damned.
ALICE: But this early? Are you sure?
GRANT: I know what I heard. I nearly slipped and fell when I heard
it. I was going to look at dolls – see what’s new – those new
interactive dolls that dies if you don’t feed them properly.
ALICE: There’s a gift for your little darling –
GRANT: So I thought I’d walk over to the toy store – exercise –
and then I heard a tiny tinkle. I spun around so fast that I almost
fell down. No one else seemed to notice, they just kept walking
blindly toward their doom.
Suddenly he realizes something.
Where’s Meredith?
ALICE: Oh, my god, she’s with Candace and her mother – they said
they might to mall –
GRANT: Call her – call her – it hits there before anywhere –
call her!
ALICE: The phone? Where’s the phone?
GRANT: I’ll look on the sofa – you check the bedroom.
Alice stars up the stairs. Grant finds something which he holds up.
GRANT: Here it is.
He presses a button and the television comes on and blares out with
Christmas music.
TV VOICE: …around the corner – so get started –
GRANT: See! See!
He turns off the television. ALICE comes down the stairs horrified.
ALICE: My god, it’s here – and she’s out there—our baby,
actually your baby – my step baby.
GRANT: She’s not strong enough – she can’t face the pressure.
We haven’t prepared her. I have to go save her.
Someone tries to open the door which is locked.
VOICE FROM OUTSIDE: Whoa! Hey, Mom, who locked the door?
ALICE: It’s Baxter. Is that you Baxter?
BAXTER: Naw, Mom, it’s your other son, the one who you accidentally
sent to the cleaners twenty-five years ago. I’m back and boy am I
pissed.
ALICE: Are you alone?
BAXTER: Just me and the posse – righteous gangstas on the loose.
GRANT: Ask him where he’s been – he might be carrying something.
ALICE: You ask him – I can’t talk to him through a door –
communications barriers are already bad enough between us.
GRANT: Baxter, this is your father.
BAXTER: Okay, sounds cool.
GRANT: We’re going to let you in, but you have to get in very
quickly when I open the door.
BAXTER: Sounds like fun, Dad.
GRANT: Get ready.
GRANT opens the door and BAXTER a college age boy, rushes in.
BAXTER: That was fun. I’m not a latch key kid anymore?
ALICE notices Baxter’s backpack.
ALICE: What’s that on your back?
BAXTER: Alien pod? Unfinished Hunchback costumes for Halloween?
Harmless backpack? You and Dad get into some of those
psychopharmaceuticals he’s been pushing?
ALICE: What’s in the backpack?
BAXTER: I don’t know. I never us it – I just wear it so I’ll
blend in and look like a dork at community college.
ALICE: I tried to get you into Yale, remember? But with your police
record –
BAXTER: Misdemeanors.
GRANT: Don’t start on that again. Just check the backpack. Check
it now!
BAXTER dumps out the contents of backpack and goes through it.
BAXTER: All right. Let’s see – lots of papers – oh, I passed
Freshman English.
ALICE: That was last year.
BAXTER: It’s an old paper – most of these are old papers. A
condom. Unused.
GRANT: I’m not sure I’m happy about that –
BAXTER: That I have a condom?
GRANT: That it’s unused –
BAXTER: Well, if it were used – oh, here’s that girl’s number,
damn.
ALICE: What else? Just dump it all out – we can’t be too
careful. Look it over with me, Grant.
BAXTER: What is it? It’s the paranoia research, right? I told you
both –
ALICE: Your father thinks he heard something.
GRANT: I don’t think – I know – I don’t hallucinate – my
patients hallucinate.
BAXTER: So what didn’t you hallucinate today? Not that textured
quality to the hood of the car again?
GRANT: No, that hasn’t happened for months.
ALICE: Tell him.
GRANT: I heard the first tinkle. Today. The first tinkle of
Christmas.
BAXTER: Oh, god. Then maybe I heard it too – on campus – between
classes – it was carried by the wind or something. Kind of like a
bell – metallic –
ALICE: Silver?
BAXTER: Metallic – silver – bell –
GRANT: A silver bell – the first tinkle.
BAXTER: Oh, Christ, where’s the phone, I’ve got some business
that just can’t wait.
ALICE: We were looking for the phone when you came to the door.
GRANT: I found the remote.
BAXTER: Hell of a lot of good that’s going to do me – I need a
phone.
ALICE: We need to us if first. Meredith may be on her way to a mall
right now.
BAXTER: What? Oh, Christ, Dad. You still haven’t told her that
there’s no Santa? I thought you were going to tell her. If you
don’t tell her, you’re going to have some messed up
grandchildren.
GRANT: I was going to tell her! I was! I was just waiting for the
right time.
BAXTER: When would that be? Your death bed?
GRANT: I don’t just tell her – it’s a program. A method I’m
working on – a program –
BAXTER: You’re deprogramming her? Sensory deprivation and water
boarding – so cool, Dad.
ALICE: I suggested to your father that it not be called deprogramming
–
GRANT: Right, your mother has a real feel for language.
BAXTER: So what do you call it?
ALICE AND GRANT: De-Santa-tizing.
BAXTER: You’re kidding.
GRANT: De-Santa-tizing. And we don’t call it deprogramming, we
call it “exit counseling.”
BAXTER: You can call it Maholo Blahnick and Sis is still going to be
very upset when she discovers that the whole ho-ho-ho routine is
bogus. But you better get on it.
GRANT: No, no! I can’t be rushed – it’s very traumatic –
I’ve got that chapter in my book all about it. It’s the very
basis of the holiday depression –
BAXTER: Santa?
GRANT: Not Santa as such – it’s SD.
BAXTER: What?
ALICE: The Santa Discovery – I don’t think you read your
father’s book, Baxter.
BAXTER: I skimmed it – I’m in college – I have lots of parties
I have to go to.
GRANT: It just makes psychological sense – SD – there you are
believing in an entire philosophical system where your good deeds are
rewarded with material possessions. Plus, your entire life has been
scrutinized –
ALICE: He sees you when you’re sleeping…he know when you’re
awake.
BAXTER: He knows if you’ve been bad or good…
GRANT: Exactly. Your entire life – every waking and sleeping
moment observed, rated, and ultimately rewarded. And it’s not like
some abstract god who sends nebulous rewards. This isn’t inner
peach – this is waking up Christmas morning to find a doll that
cries itself to sleep when you leave the room.
ALICE: They have such things?
GRANT: “Life like Laurie – she’ll keep you up all night.” I
saw it on television.
BAXTER: I remember the year I told Santa “paint pellet gun –
paint pellet gun.” And somehow he misunderstood “paint pellet
gun” and brought me fuzzy slippers. Paint pellet gun – fuzzy
slippers. I got very suspicious then.
GRANT: So there you are – all this structure supported everywhere
you look – and you parents are part of the conspiracy.
ALICE: And I call myself a mother. You try to be open and honest
with them and then you remind them to leave the cookies for Santa –
there’s got to be a linguistic description for that – a word for
that.
BAXTER: Yeah – lying.
[end of extract]
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