Crying in Public

A Funeral.

DANIEL approaches LINDA.

DANIEL:  Linda, I’m so sorry about your grandfather.

LINDA:  Thank you, Dan.  I appreciate you coming.

DANIEL:  Listen, um, I just want you to know—it’s okay to cry.

LINDA:  Oh, yes, thank you, I know that.

DANIEL:  But really, it’s actually not healthy of you to try and hold it in.

LINDA:  I’m not.

DANIEL:  You’re not what?

LINDA:  Holding it in.  I’m not holding it in.

DANIEL:  But you’re not crying.

LINDA:  Well, I just haven’t cried yet.  I think I’m still in shock.

DANIEL:  So when do you plan on crying?

LINDA:  Uh, well, I don’t know.  I hadn’t really thought about it.  Maybe…tomorrow?  Or, you know, after this funeral is over?

DANIEL:  I should be there.

LINDA:  What?

DANIEL:  When you’re crying.  I should be there for that.

LINDA:  Why would you want to be there when I’m crying?

DANIEL:  Well, somebody should be there.

LINDA:  Why?

DANIEL:  Linda, it’s not enough for you to just cry.  Somebody has to witness it.

LINDA:  You mean like a notary?

DANIEL:  Linda, studies have shown that crying in front of other people is much more therapeutic than crying by yourself.

LINDA:  What studies?

DANIEL:  Studies in magazines.

LINDA:  Which magazines?

DANIEL:  The one I write for.

LINDA:  You write for a magazine?

DANIEL:  It’s really more of a lifestyle blog, but that’s not the point—

LINDA:  Daniel, I will grieve the way I want to.

DANIEL:  I totally get it.

LINDA:  Thank you.

DANIEL:  I just think that your way is wrong.

LINDA:  I’m not sure there is a wrong way.

DANIEL:  What if you grieved by setting fire to your house?  That would be the wrong way, wouldn’t it?

LINDA:  I’d rather set fire to your house, Dan.

DANIEL:  Are you being serious?

LINDA:  No.

DANIEL:  Oh, thank goodness.  Grief makes people do funny things.

LINDA:  This was wonderful.  We’ll have to do it again at some other funeral.

DANIEL:  Why don’t you just let out a few tears right now?  Right on the old Dan’s shoulder?

LINDA:  I’d rather not.

DANIEL:  You’ll feel better.

LINDA:  You don’t know that.  You have no idea how anything would make me feel.

DANIEL:  I know that I’d feel better if you cried.

LINDA:  So this is really just about you?

DANIEL:  Linda, I don’t want to make you feel bad—

LINDA:  You don’t?

DANIEL:  But you’re making me feel really uncomfortable with how cool you’re being right now.

LINDA:  You’d feel more comfortable if I was hysterical?  If I threw myself on the casket?  If I wailed up at the moon like some kind of grief-stricken werewolf?

DANIEL:  Any of those sound wonderful.  Why don’t you give it a shot?

LINDA:  I’m going to need you to leave now, Daniel.

DANIEL:  So you can cry in front of everyone else who’s here?  I don’t think so.  I specifically got her early so I could get a good seat for the public crying.

LINDA:  Well, I hate to disappoint you, but I don’t think that’s going to happen.

DANIEL:  Can somebody film it for me?

LINDA:  Daniel, not everybody breaks down and cries when they lose someone they love.  Some people just get really quiet.  Some people sleep for days on end.  Some people never cry at all.

(A beat.)

DANIEL:  Are you serious?

LINDA:  Yes.  When my aunt died I didn’t cry at all?

DANIEL:  Because you were the one who killed her?

LINDA:  No, because I just didn’t.

DANIEL:  Then why didn’t you force yourself to?

LINDA:  Because that seems insane.

DANIEL:  More insane than not crying?

LINDA:  Yes.

DANIEL:  Then I guess I’m insane.

LINDA:  I think that was already pretty clear, Dan.

DANIEL:  So nobody is going to cry today?

LINDA:  I mean—if you want to cry, you can.

DANIEL:  Really?

LINDA:  Sure.  Go for it.

DANIEL:  But I didn’t even know your grandfather.

LINDA:  So what?  He was a nice man.  He loved feeding pigeons.  He played Santa every year at our family Christmas dinner.  What else do you need to know?

(DANIEL begins to cry.)

DANIEL:  Oh god…

LINDA:  He was really good at tennis.  He spoke fluent Italian.  He really liked the month of April.

(DANIEL is now crying harder.)

LINDA:  He used to wear cardigans every Thursday.

(That breaks him.  He’s now sobbing.  LINDA pulls him in for a hug.)

LINDA:  It’s okay, Daniel.

DANIEL:  This…feels…horrible.

LINDA:  Don’t worry.  You’re the first one here and you were an hour early, so—Nobody’s watching but me.

(He continues to cry, and she keeps holding him.)

End of Play