A Sketch by Jean-Pierre Martinez
A woman in mourning arrives. She takes out a handkerchief from her bag and wipes a tear. Her phone rings.
Woman 1 (in a very emotional voice) – Yes…? Oh, it’s you… Yes, yes, I’m at the funeral home, right now. It’s true I hadn’t seen him in years, but still. It’s quite a shock. I wanted to see him one last time…
Stage left, a second woman arrives, also in mourning.
Woman 1 – Excuse me, I have to hang up. My sister just arrived. I’ll call you back later, alright? Thanks for calling…
The two women hug, without much warmth.
Woman 2 (pointing to the courtyard) – Good thing you warned me. I didn’t receive an invitation. Is he in there?
Woman 1 – Yes.
Woman 2 – Have you seen him?
Woman 1 – Yes.
Woman 2 – It’s been at least ten years… He must have changed, right?
Woman 1 – He’s dead.
Woman 2 – Yes… I’m not really sure I want to face him, actually. I’ve never encountered a dead body. Maybe it’s better to preserve the memory of him from our last meeting when he was full of life…
Woman 1 – Come on. Do it for him. I’m sure he would have been pleased to see you one last time.
Woman 2 – Alright.
She heads towards stage right without enthusiasm and disappears. Her sister wipes another tear. The other woman returns after a moment, looking a bit disturbed.
Woman 1 – Are you okay…?
Woman 2 – You said the door on the right, didn’t you?
Woman 1 – Yes, why?
Woman 2 – It’s not him.
Woman 1 – You haven’t seen him in ten years. He must have changed, inevitably.
Woman 2 – He didn’t change sex, though… There’s a woman in the casket.
Woman 1 – Are you sure…?
Woman 2 – A woman who looks nothing like him, you know… Didn’t you notice?
Woman 1 – I was so upset this morning. I dropped my contact lenses in the sink. It must be the door on the left. There are two funeral rooms… I’ll go check.
Woman 2 – I think it’s better if I do it…
She leaves again and comes back after a moment.
Woman 1 – So…?
Woman 2 – It’s not him either.
Woman 1 – Are you sure?
Woman 2 – Unless he kept it from us his whole life that he was Black… Show me the funeral invitation… Maybe you got the address wrong. There are funeral homes everywhere…
Woman 1 – Oh, my God… It upset me so much to learn that he died. And now, we won’t even be able to attend his funeral…
She takes the invitation out of her bag and hands it to her sister.
Woman 2 (looking at the invitation) – No, it’s right here, I don’t understand… (Reading) “Have the sadness to announce the passing of Mr…” That’s not his name!
Woman 1 – This can’t be! Let me see…
She takes the invitation and squints to read it.
Woman 1 – Damn it! It’s the neighbours’ name… The mailman mixes up the mail at least once a month. I didn’t pay attention.
Woman 2 – So, he’s not dead…
Woman 1 – I’m really sorry… (Awkward silence) What are we going to do with the wreath?
Woman 2 – I don’t think they’ll take it back, you know…? Can you imagine florists giving refunds after funerals…? Let’s just leave it to decorate your neighbour’s deceased’s grave.
Woman 1 – Especially since they didn’t seem to care much about it. They didn’t even show up…
Woman 2 – That’s normal, you have the funeral invitation…
Woman 1 – Damn, that’s right. How am I going to tell them…
Woman 2 – Oh, yes… You’ll need all the tact you can muster…
Woman 1 – Well… The good news is he’s not dead… I had almost made peace with it…
Woman 2 – So, that’s done, right?
They walk away.
Woman 1 – Oh, my God…
Woman 2 – Are you going to visit him?
Woman 1 – Who?
Woman 2 – Well, him!
Woman 1 – Why would I go see him?
Woman 2 – I don’t know. You were so determined to bid him a final farewell. Well, this way you can say goodbye while he’s still alive…
Black.
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A sketch from the collection Stories to die for
Link to the collection for free download (PDF)
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https://jeanpierremartinez.net