The Heart Has a Mind of Its Own

By Larry Kirwan

This is a further extract from a new play of mine, The Heart Has a Mind of its Own. It concerns the Murphy family who lost their eldest son in the World Trades Center. Jimmy, an ex-cop, is the Father; Aggie, the Mother; Kevin, a member of the NYFD, the youngest son; and Rose is the wife of Brian, the deceased hero.

Scene One

The stage is split into the living area of two houses. Jimmy and Aggie's is regular, middle class Rockaway. Rose's is more upscale Breezy Point (a gated community on the west side of the peninsula.)

Rose is lying on the couch, reading a magazine. It's very hot outside, but she has the air conditioner on. She arises, turns the air conditioner up, then abruptly switches it off. She paces the room, bored and distracted. She puts on a CD - the opening lines of Banks of the Hudson play. She listens to the saxophone intro, but finds it too raucous and linked with memory for her taste. She turns it off. She feels claustrophobic and clammy, and opens her shirt. On her dresser, there's a picture of her husband. She stares at it for sometime, then strides over and turns it to the wall.

The doorbell rings. Surprised, she opens the door. It's her brother-in-law, Kevin. He's holding a toolbox and stands there uncertainly, surprised that she doesn't invite him in. She seems flustered at his unexpected arrival.

Rose: Making house calls?

Kevin: Mom said you were having trouble with the bathroom door.

Rose: I told her that?

Kevin: (shrugs) I guess.

Rose: It's usually your Father that comes.

Kevin: He got called into Morgan's. You want me to take a look at it?

(She shrugs her indifference and motions him to enter.)

Kevin: Your air-conditioner broke too?

Rose: No.

Kevin: Then why ain't you got it on?

Rose: What's the matter? Never seen a woman sweat before?

(She looks directly at him. This makes him even more uncomfortable.)

Rose: Sometimes I like to sweat. Makes me feel like I'm doing something.

(Silence)

Kevin: Where's Little Jimmy?

Rose: It's Monday.

Kevin: Oh yeah, school.

Rose: That's what kids generally do on Mondays.

Kevin: Yeah. I guess.

Rose: Don't you start with I guess. That's all I ever hear from him. Is your homework done? I guess. Do you want Frosted Flakes? I guess. Is your Mom going out of her fucking head? I guess?

Kevin: Maybe he's playing too many video games?

Rose: I guess.

(Pause)

Kevin: You got any Advil?

Rose: In the kitchen.

(He goes into the kitchen - which we can't see - and turns on the tap. She shouts in.)

On the sink, the big one that's half empty...How come you're so hung over?

Kevin: I stayed out too late.

Rose: Down The Inn?

Kevin: Where else? Pete was askin' for you.

Rose: Oh yeah?

Kevin: Yeah.

Rose: What'd he say?

Kevin: What do you mean, what'd he say?

Rose: You said he was askin' for me.

Kevin: Yeah, he was. 

Rose: So, what'd he say?

Kevin: He said, tell Rose, I was askin' for her. What do you think?

Rose: That's all?

Kevin: What did you want him to say?

Rose: I haven't been down there in over two months and that's the best he can do? You know he introduced me and Brian.

Kevin: Yeah, I know.

Rose: So, he could have said a bit more than, tell Rose I was askin' for her.

(Silence)

Kevin: He did.

Rose: He did what?

Kevin: He said more.

Rose: Oh?

Kevin: He wanted to know why you never come down no more.

Rose: Oh, he did, did he?

Kevin: Yeah, it was no big deal. Just a - you know.

Rose: You want to know why I don't go down the Inn?

Kevin: Seeing you put it like that - not particularly.

Rose: Because you don't ask me.

Kevin: Listen, I told you before, I'm just down there with Jackie Maguire and the guys.

Rose: So why can't I be one of the guys?

Kevin: Because.

Rose: Because what?

Kevin: Because you're not.

Rose: So, what am I then?

Kevin: Jesus Christ, you're Rose. What do you think you are?

Rose: No, I'm not Rose. I'm Brian's wife, right?

Kevin: I guess.

Rose: Don't say that! that's why I can't be one of the guys? Right?

Kevin: You go out. 

Rose: Yeah, but not with you.

Kevin: Listen, I didn't come over here to get in an argument?

(Silence)

Rose: Yeah, I go out.

Kevin: I mean Mom and Dad are always takin' you out. 

Rose: Yeah, I've had more early bird specials than any woman of 29. Feel like I'm living in goddamned Florida.

Kevin: Well, you can't expect Mom to go to the Inn

Rose: Why not? She'd be a shoo-in for the wet T-shirt competition.

Kevin: Listen, Rose, that ain't fair. Now I come over to fix your bathroom door.

Rose: Oh fuck my bathroom door!

(Silence)

Kevin: What's the matter?

Rose: What do you think? I bought the wrong eyeliner yesterday!

Kevin: C'mere!

(He gives her a hug. She holds on a little too tightly and he backs off.)

Kevin: Don't you go out with the - what do you call them?

Rose: The support group?

Kevin: Yeah, they're good people, right?

Rose: It's the same thing.

Kevin: They like a good time - you said so yourself.

(He notices his brother's picture is turned to the wall, and turns it back facing the room. She stares at the picture for her next lines).

Rose Yeah, we drink a cocktail or two or three but, in the end, it's always the same. Someone brings up one of them, and one of us starts crying, and before you know it, you're crying yourself whether you want to or not.

Kevin: They say cryin' is good for you.

Rose: They should try it 24/7, see how they feel.

Kevin: I suppose.

Rose: You suppose? Did you cry for Brian?

(Pause)

Kevin: I don't know.

Rose: What do you mean, you don't know? You either cried or you didn't?

Kevin: I think I did.

Rose: Listen, you either did or you didn't? Which was it?

Kevin: Well, you should know, I was with you 24 hours of the day.

Rose: I had more things to be thinking about than making sure you were crying? Well, did you or didn't you?

(Silence)

Kevin: No.

Rose: You didn't?

Kevin: I said, no!

Rose: Jesus - your own brother?

Kevin: Don't tell anyone, okay?

Rose: Like who am I goin' to tell?

Kevin: You know.

Rose: Oh yeah. I'm goin' to march right up to your Mom at Thanksgiving and say, guess what, Aggie? Brian didn't even wet an eyebrow when the light of your life got blown to sweet Jesus! What's the matter? Didn't love your darling brother?

Kevin: I cried for him on the anniversary.

Rose: That's a bit late in the day, isn't it?

Kevin: What difference does it make? Not one of yez noticed anyway.

(Silence. She gets up and turns the picture back to the wall and sighs.)

Rose: Maybe you're right, kid.

Kevin: I'm not a kid.

Rose: He always called you that.

Kevin: Yeah. I know.

Rose: He had a name for everyone.

Kevin: Whether they liked it or not.

Rose: Jesus, I need a drink. Do you want one?

Kevin: It's a bit early.

Rose: So, it wasn't early at four in the morning when you were knocking them back?

Kevin: That was down The Inn and we were there all night.

Rose: Well, I can't stay down the bloody Inn all night, so I'm having my happy hour a little early. Okay?

Kevin: Alright! Whatever you're havin' yourself.

Rose: What you mean is, you don't want me drinking on my own like a floozy - right? So humor the old girl, she's going through a rough patch right now

Kevin: I didn't say that.

Rose: It's okay if I get sloshed in some cocktail lounge with the other sacred widows of the martyrs and defenders of the homeland, but if I want to have a little nip at home to keep my spirits up, I'm some kind of lush, right?

Kevin: All right, for Christ sake. Give me a goddamned beer.

Rose: You know something, boy, you should get an apartment of your own. You've been hanging out of your Mother's apron strings too long.

Kevin: Can we, for just once, leave her out of this?

Rose: Jesus, you're like an echo of Brian. Never shut up about herâ•œthen again, he was always the favorite, wasn't he?

Kevin: You want to get that beer?

Rose: What's the matter? Getting all sensitive, are we?

Kevin: Listen you wanted me to have a beer, I'm havin' a beer. But keep her out of this!

(She goes into the kitchen and begins pulling and pouring beers. From inside:)

Rose: So, big Pete was asking for me?

Kevin: Yeah!

Rose: What'd he say, how come Rosie don't come round no more?

Kevin: I told you what he said.

Rose: Maybe I could introduce her to another hero?

Kevin: What's wrong with you today? Pete's good people. You know that.

Rose: Yeah, Pete's good people.

(She comes out and hands him a beer in a pint glass.)

Rose: You want to know why I don't go down to Pete's?

(Kevin shrugs.)

Rose: 'Cause the place turns into a morgue the minute I walk in the door. Takes me a couple of drinks before I can even forget that everyone's looking at me. I hear the young ones talking about me in the bathroom: did you see Brian Murphy's wife, God help her. Out on her own, the poor woman! Then after three or four drinks when I'm starting to have a good time, and I don't give a damn about anyone or anything, they start to look at me like I'm the Blessed Virgin come hopping down off my pedestal and they get all worried, like I'm going to whip off my shirt, jump up on the stick and do the grind with the Mexican bar-back. And all of a sudden Pete's asking me if he should call car service, and then some drunk that couldn't stand Brian when he was alive is slobbering on my shoulder and feeling me up, and I want to take Pete's baseball bat and smash every glass in the bloody place. But instead, you know what I do?

(Kevin has been looking at her as if in a daze.)

No, I suppose you don't, but you're going to hear it anyway. I remember that I'm the wife of a martyred hero and a defender of my homeland and of the blessed American people, and so I pick up my skirts very ladylike, and step right back up on that pedestal, and I say "yes, Peter, I have a slight headache and I do believe I'll be heading home right now, so if you can call me a car service, that would be wonderful, and thank you all very much for such a lovely evening." 

And before I know it, they're all kissing me and hugging me and crying on my makeup, and so great to see you and come again soon, Rosie, we've missed you girl, and you'll come on the fishing trip, won't you? And they're all so bloody relieved that I'm going without making a scene, and before I know it, I'm in that car service, and the Egyptian man with the great big sorry eyes is watching me sob my brains out in the back seat and, I know he's the only one who really understands, and so he lets me sit there and gather myself before I go in the door and tell your Mother to go home, that I've had a wonderful time with my friends but I'm a little tired, and I just want to go to bed and tomorrow's another day and God never shuts one door but he opens another, and yes I agree little Jimmy is playing too many video games and hardly says a word except I guess, and that's why I don't go down to Pete's Inn anymore, Kevin, and now let's fix this fucking door....