The greatest loss in the world is the loss of a child. For Jaqueline, an African American single mother, it is the murder of her son Sean. She wakes up one morning and while she spends time in her room she sees “something” on his bed. She picks it up, examines it and shares it with the audience. She speaks about the loss of her first child then the loss of her daughter. All she had left was her son Sean. As she continues to examine the “thing” she presses a button that takes her on a trip that gives her exactly what she thinks she wants, her son back. Sean is dead but, in this moment, he reappears as if nothing has happened, kisses her and is off to school. But the phone call comes, and his death comes, and she is left trying to figure out how she can get this right. How can she communicate with this “thing” that what she wants is her son back, but she wants him to live his full life? What we realize through this difficult story of loss is that as humans we have to be able to accept the things we cannot change. But if given an opportunity to relive the worst day of your life and change it would you? Or would you know enough about life and how life works to know that there is a reason that no one has the power to do that. Jacqueline is eventually forced to confront her ghosts, quite literally, and make the most difficult decision in her life not only for herself but for total strangers. Sometimes doing what feels right is offset by what is actually right. A story of a mother’s experience with love, loss and law enforcement.
(Scene opens with Jaqueline, an African American woman in her late thirties. She opens the door to a room and it takes her a moment to actually walk in. This place she’s stepping into holds a lot of her heart and this step in is difficult. Beat. She sees something that doesn’t belong, it brings her into the room. She picks up this something, it’s about the size of a rubric cube. She examines it looking at all sides.)
A silly little thing like this shouldn’t surprise me. But I don’t know what it is, or where it came from. I don’t get visitors much anymore. Hell, I didn’t get visitors much before. You know the story a single mother, working hard just to make sure that my only son has the best of everything, and I mean absolutely everything. I lost a baby, Cynthia, when she was just four months to SIDS. I thought that was the hardest moment of my life. (Beat) So when I had Sean I had like a rebirth. My happiness didn’t matter, or rather I put all of my happiness in him. My mother used to tell me, “I grew up with nothing, so I will make damn sure that you and your brothers and sisters have everything.” Of course, everything for us was being able to hang out with our friends and I have breakfast, lunch and dinner every day. She was the best mother because she was able to give us all she had, we didn’t want for much. I guess both situations are valid, on one hand you have a mother like me that makes sure that her seventeen year old son is as spoiled as possible and on the other hand you have what I like to call an old-school mother who gave us everything we asked for but because we were actually pretty “damn good kids” we didn’t ask for much. (Laughs) The best thing is that I know my mother died being fully aware that we were all happy and she made that happen for us. (She looks around the room and places the “thing” on a bookshelf, she turns to walk away but it makes a sound. She turns back around, picks it up and presses a button that’s somewhere on it. She jumps as she sees someone walk past the doorway.) Sean... Sean is that...is that you? (Walking toward the door.) Sean. (He is there in front of her. She lets out a huge sigh, hugs him hard.) How is this- where are you going? (Listening) School...school right. Have a good day son and don’t ever forget how much I love you. (She watches him go then looks back to the “thing” still in her hand.) What the hell are you?