SUNNY
Mother, I don’t know that I didn’t write a play called “The Provinces.”
(MRS. HO chokes on her tea.)
MRS. HO
Surely, you wrote no such thing. Your skills lie in physics, not writing. I have read your writing. It is a dog’s writing.
SUNNY
Mother. I thought “The Provinces” captured my feelings well. My weeks away were a challenge to me. It was difficult going, finding a husband and coming home. The plays are my thinking. They are my writing.
MRS. HO
You keep such statements to yourself. When Mr. Baldhawk calls you to the stand, you will say that you never wrote such a thing, that you do not write, that you cannot write worth a dog.
SUNNY
Mother, you are approaching disrespect.
MRS. HO
I am approaching truth, and you know it.
(SUNNY gulps.)
END OF PART IV.
(WESTWARD is reading the letter. As he does so, the LAWYER stands behind
him. It is the LAWYER’s voice, bald and hawk-like, that we hear. THE
POSTMAN listens beneficently.)
LAWYER
Mr. Ho, it will no doubt come as a surprise that you mother is suing you. When I ran into her on the street, I knew instantly that she was not to be trifled with. In brief, she is suing you as a result of some documents posted on your blog, “Plays: Short and Strange.” Particularly, she objects to a series of plays entitled, “The Provinces,” and harbors similar objections regarding “Sunny Comes Back from the Provinces” and “Overheard Voices III.” It is Mrs. Ho’s contention that these play scripts either include her as a character, include her daughter---your sister---as a character, and/or are titled as though written by Mrs. Ho or her daughter. While the complainant takes no exception regarding the ultimate veracity of the depictions, she asserts that truth is a stretchy thing and that you have stretched it.
(The LAWYER exits.)
THE POSTMAN
A bad blow, Westward.
(WESTWARD wants to break a wooden spoon, but is powerless to do so.)
WESTWARD
(Angrily)
Was ever son so abused? Tell me, Postman; have you ever been sued by your mother?
THE POSTMAN
Once. It was a bitter business.
WESTWARD
Oh.
THE POSTMAN
She blamed me for some family deaths; but I was as heartbroken as she.
WESTWARD
Oh.
THE POSTMAN
I wish you well. We all have troubles.
(THE POSTMAN exits. Clank of the door. WESTWARD falls to his knees. He
lifts a wooden spoon aloft, but still cannot break it.)
END OF PART III.
(WESTWARD, SUNNY, and SUNNY’S MAN FRIEND are eating breakfast.
Orange peels are strewn wildly about. THE POSTMAN walks in.)
THE POSTMAN
Letter for Mr. Westward Ho.
(WESTWARD looks at the envelope.)
WESTWARD
It’s from Mother.
(SUNNY gets up.)
SUNNY
Excuse me.
(She leaves.)
WESTWARD
It’s not from Mother. It’s from her lawyer.
(SUNNY’S MAN FRIEND gets up.)
SUNNY’S MAN FRIEND
I must go.
WESTWARD
Won’t you watch me open it?
(The FRIEND takes an English muffin.)
SUNNY’S MAN FRIEND
Forgive me.
(He hurries away.)
WESTWARD
Postman, will stay with me?
THE POSTMAN
I am ahead in my route, Westward. Open it.
(Rip.)
END OF PART II.
(Drizzle. MRS. HO travels quickly down the street, her face concealed in thought.
A MAN, bald and hawk-like, rushes in from the other side. They knock into each
other.)
MRS. HO
You have ruined my hairdo!
THE MAN
My new hat!
MRS. HO
I burn with anger!
THE MAN
You will be sued!
MRS. HO
You will pay for my hairdo!
THE MAN
It is you who will pay dearly!
MRS. HO
Never!
THE MAN
But I am a lawyer!
MRS. HO
(Pause)
Then you must help me with my son.
(They conspire.)
END OF PART I.
