Heir-looms

January 22nd, 2021

Starring:  Jerome (male, 40-50), Georgia (female, 40-50)

Night.  Past usual bedtime.  A small study.  A cluttered desk, with boxes and manila document folders.  Georgia stands in the center of the room, holding a long, antique cavalry sword.  She unsheathes it slowly, looking at the blade.  She tries to catch it in better light, and in doing so, gets close to slicing the ceiling.  Jerome calls softly from the doorway, holding tea:

JEROME

Watch the fan, Zorro.

GEORGIA

Oop!

Georgia lowers the blade, carefully.  She puts it back in its sheath.

GEORGIA

Crazy how its aged so well.  The blade’s still not rusty.

JEROME

Where’d she keep it?

GEORGIA

In her little study room, on the mantel.  She probably didn’t touch it for 40 years.

JEROME

Do you know what they sell for?

GEORGIA

No.  It’s an heirloom, she wouldn’t sell it.

JEROME

What about you?

GEORGIA

Well now it’s my heirloom.

JEROME

Mhm…

GEORGIA

And I’ll probably use the same logic.

JEROME

So we’re keeping it?

GEORGIA

I’d like to honor her somehow.

Not just her, the lineage.  The whole idea of passing a thing down.  

JEROME

But what if you don’t want the thing?

Wait do you want the thing?

GEORGIA

I do, yeah.

JEROME

So to clarify, you want your great-great grandad’s Confederate sword hanging in our house?

GEORGIA

We don’t know if it is.  There’s nothing on here that confirms that.  She only started saying that as she got senile—

JEROME

So let’s get it appraised.  Then we’ll know for sure.

GEORGIA

But why do we—

JEROME

We should know.  Because if it is, we can’t have—

GEORGIA

It would be horrible.

But—

JEROME

If that’s even a possibility, why would we want it at all?

GEORGIA

It’s not the memory I have with it!  I look at it, and I think of my Mom.  Her house, her smell, her life.  It’s a positive association.

JEROME

It doesn’t excuse what it could be.

GEORGIA

IknowIknowIknow.  But I’m the only child, ok?!  It’s on me to keep the streak.

JEROME

Streak?  Fuck the streak!  You’re you, you don’t owe anyone anything.

GEORGIA

That’s pretty easy to say when it’s not your family.  When it’s not on you to hold that up.

And I know you had mixed feelings about my Mom—

JEROME

I loved your Mom—!

GEORGIA

You tolerated my Mom.  There was a little love, and a lot of resentment.  You know it, I know it.  Up to her last day, even she knew it.

I’m not saying you have to support this.  Honestly, I don’t think I do.

But either way, I need your support.  I really do, right now.

JEROME

You’ve got it.  Even if you can’t feel it, you’ve got it.  

How about we sleep on it?

GEORGIA

Ok.  Sure, we’ll figure it out tomorrow.  

JEROME

You coming up?

GEORGIA

In a minute.

JEROME

Take your time.  I’ll check on the kids.

GEORGIA

Ok.

Thanks

Jerome tries a smile and goes upstairs.

Georgia looks back down at the sword.  She gets on her tiptoes and places it on a high shelf, overlooking the room.  Just for the night.

END OF PLAY

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