War

February 13th, 2021

Starring: Paige (female, 80’s), Bernard (male, mid 60’s)

Paige’s apartment, evening.  Paige and Bernard sit across from eachother at the circular dining room table.  They’re digging into a nice meal of steak, potatoes, veggies, with a glass of red wine:

PAIGE

Is it rare enough?

BERNARD

Marvelous and bloody, Ma.

PAIGE

Good. Cousin Jan called mid-sear and I got distracted. I worried I cooked it dry.

BERNARD

No it’s perfect, as always.

Is Jan ok?

PAIGE

Jan’s Jan.  A hoot and a trainwreck.

BERNARD

Is she ever going to come visit you?

PAIGE

I keep imploring, but she never budges.  I think it’s the planes.  

BERNARD

Planes…?

PAIGE

Remember her nephew?  The Cessna? 

BERNARD

Oh, right.  Of course.  

PAIGE

Who really knows.  It doesn’t change that you’re stuck with me tonight.

BERNARD

And you me.  

PAIGE

You know I love it though.  Brings me back to the grade school days.  You’d come in, sling down your bag, sit down right here, vacuum up some chow, talk about your day, ask me about mine.  Same as it ever was.

BERNARD

Except we’re old.

PAIGE

Wise.

BERNARD

Whatever you say.

PAIGE

That is what I say.

So.  How was your day?

BERNARD

My day was...alright.

I finish lecturing before lunch on Fridays, so I had the afternoon for me.

PAIGE

And how did you have it?

BERNARD

Truthfully?

I sat in my desk chair and fought with someone on the internet.  

PAIGE

Oh.  Was that your intention?

BERNARD

No.  I had plans to take a jog in the park, but as I was getting dressed, I got notified on my phone that someone had mentioned me in a message.  

PAIGE

A text?

BERNARD

No, on Twitter.  You know Twitter—?

PAIGE

Yes Bernard, I know Twitter—

BERNARD

Sorry, ok.  So I saw I got “Tweeted at.”

PAIGE

Is this someone you know?

BERNARD

No.  Someone out there who follows my account.   

PAIGE

And who is this person?

BERNARD

Well from the looks of his profile, he’s one of these young, easily impressionable, uneducated, twentysomething trolls who believes vaccines are the devil and climate change is a joke and Bush did 9/11—

PAIGE

Bush did 9/11—?

BERNARD

It’s a conspiracy—

PAIGE

Bush didn’t do 9/11—

BERNARD

Of course he didn’t—

PAIGE

He shouldn't have invaded Iraq but—

BERNARD

I know, Mom.  My point is, this guy’s a provocateur.  He’s the kind of leeching scum that gets his kicks by engaging in Twitter battles with people who actually know what they’re talking about.

PAIGE

Like yourself.

BERNARD

Sure.  I know more than him, that I do know.

...

So he posts this massive diatribe riddled with these theories and arguments with absolutely no basis for truth.  None at all.  Even he probably knows it.

PAIGE

Like what?

BERNARD

It’s not even worth telling you.  They’d make you dumb just hearing them, believe me.

So I write back.  I make sure it’s fair, but firm.  I poke holes in every argument, supported with a provable fact.  And I post my response.  

PAIGE

But it’s not over.

BERNARD

Oh, nonono.  Because the deal with these people is that they never back down, especially when they’re in the wrong.  

PAIGE

Of course.

BERNARD

So he writes back with some more garbage.

Then I make garbage out of his garbage.

Then he tries to triple down, I play him like a fiddle.

Then he counters to a new topic, so then I take that down.

And it just keeps going: in-out, up-down, bob-weave, jab-cross, hit hit hit until finally, finally, he stops.  After an hour of back and forth...nothing.

PAIGE

...what happened?

BERNARD

Who knows.  Maybe I shamed him too much, maybe it wasn’t fun for him anymore.  But he left.  Truth won.

PAIGE

Did you ever go on your run?

BERNARD

Well by the time it was over, I remembered I had to jump on a department meeting, and then I had to feed the dog, and then I had to clean up and come see you.

So no.

… 

BERNARD

I know.

PAIGE

What do you know?

BERNARD

Your face.  You disapprove.

PAIGE

No.  It’s your time, you can do what you want with it.  

But I do think a man of your age, intelligence and status can do better things than engage with idiots on the web.

BERNARD

And as a scholar of my position, it’s all the more imperative I stamp out blatant misinformation when I see it.  Especially when it’s directed towards me.

PAIGE

I understand you were challenged.  I just know if it was me, I would ignore things like that.  People forget how much power there is in ignoring.  How much you can say with nothing.

BERNARD

I don’t think you understand Mom.

PAIGE

I do understand—

BERNARD

No.  I think you think you do.  You don’t have Twitter, you’re not connected, you don’t have 18,000 followers.  You hear about it all on the nightly news, but you’re not seeing it.  You’re not facing these people.  You don’t know the hate they’re spewing and the lies they’re spreading, and how dangerous it can really be.  

It sounds asinine, but when I sit at my desk and do this, I’m in battle.  My screen is the field, and my thumbs are my weapons, and I’m fighting an enemy who could guerilla attack me from any direction, at any given time.  And I feel if I don’t stop them, if I don’t shoot them down right then and there, that’s another innocent person that might believe the things they say.

...

It’s a war.  A war on truth and decency and logic.  I have rank, I have influence.  I have to.  This is my service.

PAIGE

You’re right.  Maybe I just don’t know.

But I’m very glad your father wasn’t here to hear that.  Comparing your service to his.  

He dodged bullets in Korea.  Walked through minefields, escaped bomb raids—

BERNARD

...mom—

PAIGE

You’re squashing little bugs on your phone.  Far from danger, right at home.  Don’t tell me that’s war.

BERNARD

I may have gotten carried away with the metaphor.  

Of course I—I wasn’t trying to…

I hope you know that—

PAIGE

I do.  And I’m proud of you.  So so proud, you have no godly idea.  

But I want you to be better.  I wouldn’t be a good mother if I didn’t.  

Even if we’re old now—

BERNARD

Wise.  

PAIGE

Yes.

Pardon me.

Silence between them.  Paige pokes around at her food.  Bernard takes the last bite or two of his steak, then puts down his utensils and looks up, giving his best reconciliatory smile:

BERNARD

So.  How was your day?

END OF PLAY

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The Brother Pavlovich

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Brick Wall