Even The Birds

[Ibby]

I think
by now
you might
know what
to do.

Even The Birds

I
[Lights come up on BENTLEY and RICH. BENTLEY is sitting at a rustic wooden table, chewing tobacco, while RICH stands looking out a window stage left, shielding his eyes against the sun, clearly uncomfortable in a stranger's house.]
BENTLEY: Even the birds don't eat them.
RICH:[surprised] The... what?
BENTLEY: The birds. They don't eat them.
RICH: The birds don't eat the corn?
BENTLEY: The corn, the soy, the tomatoes - none of it.
RICH: Not since...
BENTLEY: Not since she died.
RICH: Oh.
[PAUSE]
BENTLEY: It just hasn't been the same.
[AWKWARD PAUSE]
RICH: What about the stores?
BENTLEY: What about them?
RICH: You can't give 'em to the stores?
BENTLEY: They won't take them.
RICH: Why not?
BENTLEY: They can't sell them.
RICH: What do you mean?
BENTLEY: Nobody buys them.
RICH: How can they tell?
BENTLEY: They can't. I know they can't.
RICH: But...
BENTLEY: But they don't buy them all the same.
RICH: None?
BENTLEY: Not a single person buys a single ear.
RICH: Have you asked why?
BENTLEY: I have asked people who came looking for corn.
RICH: What'd they say?
BENTLEY: They decided they didn't want corn.
RICH: Just like that? Didn't want it anymore?
BENTLEY: It wasn't the price, it wasn't the corn, it wasn't the quality, nothing.
RICH: Not a single ear?
BENTLEY: Not a single one.
RICH: Damn.
[LONG PAUSE. They consider the view out the window. Lights fade]

II
[Lights come up on BENTLEY and RICH seated at the table. A large bowl of corn sits between them.]
RICH: Wow.
BENTLEY: What?
RICH: I can feel it.
BENTLEY: I told you. Nobody eats this corn.
RICH: I can really feel it.
BENTLEY: I told you, I told you.
RICH: Why do you keep planting it?
BENTLEY: That's the thing.
RICH: What?
BENTLEY: I don't.
RICH: You don't?
BENTLEY: I haven't in years.
RICH: Then...
BENTLEY: I don't know either.
RICH: But how...
BENTLEY: I don't know.
RICH: Have you tried...
BENTLEY: I've tried everything. I burned the whole field, once.
RICH: Did it work?
BENTLEY: Like a charm. The whole field burned.
RICH: Then...
BENTLEY: The next season, it sprouted again.
RICH: In rows, like that?
BENTLEY: Not in rows. Look at it. It's... it's growing wild, now.
RICH: Corn grows wild?
BENTLEY: Nope.
[PAUSE]
RICH: That's it. I'm trying an ear.
BENTLEY: Trying an ear?
RICH: I'm going to eat the whole thing. Pass me the butter.
BENTLEY: You aren't going to do it.
RICH: Just watch me!
[BENTLEY gives up and passes RICH a stick of butter. After a PAUSE, RICH butters the ear carefully and slowly. With excruciating slowness he finishes and raises the ear to his mouth. BENTLEY watches intently as RICH opens wide, leans in on the corn, and PAUSES for what seems like an eternity. Finally, with a cry of defeat and anguish, RICH drops the corn on his plate and leaves the room. The lights dim but do not go out; BENTLEY slowly rises from his seat and moves to RICH's chair and, keeping the same slow pace as RICH, starts to eat the corn. The lights dim the rest of the way and go out as BENTLEY finishes the ear.]

III
[Lights come up on table. Three finished ears of corn lie on the plate in front of RICH's seat. BENTLEY stands at the window, looking at the field and drinking something clear from a glass bottle.
RICH, groggy, with mussed hair and clothes and squinting against the light from the window, enters from opposite side and stands behind his chair, leaning on it for support.]
RICH: Who ate all this corn?
BENTLEY: What do you mean?
RICH: This corn. I thought you said nobody eats it.
BENTLEY: I don't know. It looks like someone sure did, though.
RICH: Are you drinking moonshine?
BENTLEY: Moonshine? What do you think this is, the twenties?
RICH: No, I just--
BENTLEY: All us hillbilly folk up here with our moonshine?
RICH: I just meant--
BENTLEY: Moonshine. Hah! Its sugar-water. Plain ol' sugar-water.
RICH: Look, okay, I'm sorry, its early, I just woke up. Give me a break, okay?
BENTLEY: Early? Its almost ten. I've already been up half the day.
RICH: Look, can you just tell me where the coffee is?
[PAUSE]
RICH: fine, you know, forget the coffee. Can I at least get some food?
BENTLEY: Food?
RICH: Besides this blasted corn, I mean.
BENTLEY: Oh. Right. Food.
RICH: Who ate all this, anyway?
BENTLEY: Well, it's at your seat, isn't it?
RICH: You mean...
BENTLEY: I suppose that's what it looks like.
RICH: Jesus.
BENTLEY: It's perfectly good corn.
RICH: Oh, man.
BENTLEY: Totally organic.
RICH: I really ate all that?
BENTLEY: 100% natural, that is.
RICH: I ate the corn.
BENTLEY: I don't remember you eating it.
RICH: Neither do I!
BENTLEY: Huh. That's really odd.
RICH: Oh man. What happens to people who eat this?
BENTLEY: I wouldn't know. I don't think anyone has.
RICH: Why the hell not?!
BENTLEY: I wish I knew. Then maybe I'd make a little money off of it.
RICH: Dammit!
[PAUSE]
RICH: you said this started when...
BENTLEY: When Marge died.
RICH: Yeah. That.
BENTLEY: What about it?
RICH: What... what happened, exactly?
BENTLEY: The doctor said it was probably her heart.
RICH: It just, gave out on her?
BENTLEY: She was getting on in years, you know.
RICH: But I mean...
BENTLEY: It was her time to go.
RICH: Where were you?
BENTLEY: Well, I was...
RICH: You don't remember?
BENTLEY: Give me time, don't be in such a rush.
RICH: Jesus.
BENTLEY: I was out... I was out in the field, I suppose?
RICH: Jesus!
BENTLEY: I remember cause, I looked up and I could see a storm coming.
RICH: A storm?
BENTLEY: I remember it was really dry that year. The Blakes...
RICH: Down towards town? Those Blakes?
BENTLEY: Yes, them... They lost their three best horses that year, to the heat.
RICH: Dehydration?
BENTLEY: Well that's the best we could figure. They were thin as anything...
RICH: Starvation?
BENTLEY: And dry as a bone. Hardly even any blood in 'em.
RICH: Jesus.
BENTLEY: But that day, it stormed.
RICH: Rained, just like that?
BENTLEY: Well, it hardly rained at all, and most of what came down sucked right down in the ground
RICH: Stormed, but hardly rained?
BENTLEY: It was... it was misty out, that day, though.
RICH: Misty isn't a storm.
BENTLEY: It thundered and lightninged like you wouldn't believe.
RICH: Oh. Without the rain, huh?
BENTLEY: Mostly. Terrible racket though.
RICH: Jesus. That had to be what did it.
BENTLEY: What?
RICH: That's some bad shit goin' on, Bentley.
BENTLEY: I don't believe in that.
RICH: Then why won't they eat your corn?
[Lights cut quickly]

IV
[lights fade in slowly. “Baby-Oh” (from the Antennas to Heaven intro) fades in with the lights. RICH is sitting alone at the table staring at the corn in front of him. With a hollow expression, staring blankly at the air, he lifts an ear and butters it. With painstaking effort he raises it and takes a bite. He chews slowly. Finally, he sets it down as he swallows. The lights and music cut.]

[Ibby]

V
[Lights come up quickly again. RICH lies on the floor by the seats looking straight up. BENTLEY enters stage left carrying a white package and talking quietly on a cell phone. He looks around furtively (but appears not to notice RICH) before setting the package on the table. He continues talking inaudibly, but RICH sits up and looks at him. BENTLEY turns and, spotting RICH, nearly drops his phone.]
BENTLEY: I'll call you back.
RICH: Who was that?
BENTLEY: Nobody. A friend.
RICH: oh.
[pause]
RICH: I ate another ear.
BENTLEY: You did what?
RICH: A whole ear. The whole thing.
BENTLEY: Wow.
RICH: It tasted good.
BENTLEY: I told you, it's good-quality corn
RICH: yeah. But it tasted a little... funny.
BENTLEY: Funny?
RICH: Stuffy.
BENTLEY: Huh.
RICH: It tasted like a funeral home smells.
BENTLEY: You don't say.
RICH: It was eerie.
[pause]
RICH: What's in the package, Bentley?
BENTLEY: It's, um, it's..
RICH: [grabbing it and picking at a corner] What's this white stuff? Chalk?
BENTLEY: [slightly panicky] Chalk? Um, no, it's, [cough] its corn flour, for uh, for baking.
RICH: [skeptical] Corn flour... Okay, Bentley.
BENTLEY: [looking out the window] Rich. Look.
RICH: What?
BENTLEY: Look there. The crow.
RICH: My god, its going to...
BENTLEY: No it's not.
RICH: No, look, it's...
[pause]
BENTLEY: There it goes.
RICH: Wow.
BENTLEY: I told you. Even the birds don't eat them.
RICH: Oh, man.
[Lights cut out]



VI
[Lights come up on side stage. BENTLEY is digging a hole. “Fixin' To Die” by Bob Dylan fades in as the lights fade up on the table, and RICH enters stage left carrying three ears of corn still in the husk. He pulls a bucket from under the table and starts to shuck the ears mechanically. BENTLEY and RICH form a rhythm, and begin to speed up to match the pace of the song. As the song ends, BENTLEY tosses the package into the hole and RICH takes a bite from the raw corn, simultaneously, and the lights cut out after a split-second.]

VII
[In the dark]
BENTLEY: He saw. Yeah, I'm pretty sure he did. No, I'm taking care of it. I will. Don't worry.
[footsteps off the stage. Lights come up as “Bye” by Elliott Smith plays. The bowl on the table is full of corn, but no characters appear on the stage. Finally, fifteen seconds or so into the song, RICH enters as if sleepwalking. He sits and prepares to eat another ear.]
BENTLEY: [offstage] I don't know what I'll do with him. ... He's eating the corn. ... No, I told him the- yes, I know. I know. ... No, he believed me. ... Sure, he was skeptical. ... Nah. ... Nah, he's too superstitious. I told him about Marge and the storm.
[RICH shakes himself and seems to come to his senses. He looks at his plate, then at the bowl of corn, then with a shiver of realization overturns the bowl, spilling corn across the table, before fleeing out the door stage right.]
BENTLEY: Don't worry, Vern. It should be taken care of by this weekend.
[lights cut]

VIII
[Lights come up. BENTLEY and RICH are in their respective chairs. The corn has returned to its bowl, pristine as ever. RICH stares at the ceiling, leaning back in his chair. BENTLEY watches him.]
RICH: I can feel it.
BENTLEY: Feel what?
RICH: That feeling.
BENTLEY: What feeling?
RICH: You know. That feeling. The corn.
BENTLEY: Oh. That feeling.
RICH: I feel it, dammit.
BENTLEY: How?
RICH: I don't know! It's the same feeling though. It is.
BENTLEY: But you aren't eating the corn.
RICH: I can feel it, there. On the table.
BENTLEY: Feel it from the table?
RICH: [standing angrily] that's it! I'm going out there and figuring it out.
BENTLEY: Rich! Rich, dammit, come back.
[RICH exits stage left, BENTLEY in tow. Lights cut]

IX
[IN THE DARK]
RICH: It's there. Look. It's there.
BENTLEY: Where, Rich?
RICH: Right there. A well. Overgrown, covered up, half-buried now.
BENTLEY: I don't see it.
RICH: Help me move this board. It's under here.
BENTLEY: Board? Oh – there, I see it.
RICH: It's heavy. Give me a hand.
BENTLEY: Here. Let me help.
RICH: There, its up. Good god... what is that smell?
BENTLEY: Something must've died in there.
RICH: Christ. Here, drop that rock in. [PAUSE, splash] It's deep, too.
BENTLEY: Really deep.
RICH: How long has this been here?
BENTLEY: I've never seen it before. Must've been here for... decades. Generations even.
RICH: Bentley, this well... It gives me the creeps. I mean, really gives me the --
[Crash. Silence. Splash.]

X
[Lights come up on the table. Corn is gone, plates cleaned. Bentley sits with a newspaper. ART enters from stage right.]
ART: Bentley, I'm glad I caught you.
BENTLEY: Sure, Art. What's up?
ART: We're all sold out of your last crop, down at the store. I need another load.
BENTLEY: Sure thing. Sold out, that fast? Really?
ART: Your corn always sells out the fastest. Jimmy, down on the other end of town --
BENTLEY: Sure, sure?
ART: -- nobody wants his stuff. It's always tiny. Bugs in it and stuff. Your corn, thats the good stuff.
BENTLEY: I'll hook you up with some more right now. I've got another load of it ready to go.
ART: Thanks, Bentley. Say, didn't you mention a friend of yours staying here this week?
BENTLEY: [Standing and crossing to the stove] Yeah, my cousin Rich, up from New York.
ART: Is he here? I'd love to meet him.
BENTLEY: [opening a pot on the stove and taking out two ears of corn] He's out back right now.
ART: Oh.
BENTLEY: Maybe he'll be back up if you want to wait?
ART: You know, I don't have enough time. I need to get the corn and go.
BENTLEY: Here, come on, have a seat. Have some corn – really fresh, picked not even an hour ago.
ART: Okay, okay.
[pause as they butter their corn]
ART: Is he staying long?
BENTLEY: Who, Rich?
ART: Yeah.
BENTLEY: Oh, I think he's going to be here a mighty long time.
[BENTLEY takes a large bite of his corn as the lights cut and “O Death” from the O Brother soundtrack plays.]
[CURTAIN]

[/quote]

[Clodfobble]

Very nice, Ibram. I enjoyed it.

[Cloud]

Ibram--did you write this?

I'm very impressed. Cool and creepy. Reminds me of The Stand. Rats in the corn!

[Ibby]

I wrote it, and in addition,
the photograph, in truth,
is mine also,
(though it was colour
before i edited it)

[Sundae]

I've never been any good at cold reading.
I'd like to see this read through (youtube?)
How long is it supposed to last? I assume it's a short piece?

It's a fun premise, and I like the sparsity of the lines and the fact it's a simple two-hander.
I'm not sure if it builds enough though.
The audience know something that Rich does very early on, which cues them for the denouement.

Just a thought.

[Clodfobble]

On a second read-through, I'm not sure I get the whole "package of white powder" thing. In fact, I'm not sure why Bentley needs to be talking on the phone at all, either time. Why does he have a conspirator (Vern) in his quality corn-fertilizing? It's not really necessary to show that something sinister is up, beyond the suspicious tale of Marge's death. If you cut VI and VII, and trim V a bit, it still flows properly into VIII.

[Ibby]

The package, as i see it
is not for the corn or Rich
but just drugs, plain and simple
Bentley sells it, and now
Rich knows it.

Bentley has to take care of
his little problem, now...
so he takes care of Rich,
in the most final way he can.

at least, that's how i see it.

[Clodfobble]

Wait... so the whole point is just that he kills Rich? That's it?

Dude.

I had this whole other interpretation of it... I thought the well was out in the corn field, and the dead bodies (first Marge, and now Rich) were the reason the corn is so damn tasty. He's adding dead people as necessary to keep the crop spectacular.

That really wasn't what you were implying? Wow. I'm kind of screwed up in the head.

[glatt]

That makes two of us then. I thought the same thing. Extra flavor and fertilizer to boot.

[Cloud]

bone meal is good fertilizer, isn't it? or is it a poison . . . can't remember.

[Pie]

I' m with Cloud. That's certainly where my interpretation was heading.

[Ibby]

ah, but you should know
never to trust the author.
in fact, i must say
i would have written that
but for the fact that i felt
that i may be ripping off
a certain stephen king book.

However, once again,
never trust the author.

I think I may rewrite it, in fact,
to include both the input here
and the input of a close friend
very experienced in theatre.

I'll keep you posted.

[Ibby]

From my friend
(the one I mentioned):

I've decided to ask you about this privately. There is one thing about your script that is currently not clear to me - that's the fundamental difference between Marge and Rich.

The repercussions of her death are clear - the corn isn't desirable to the people who eat it - while Rich's death on the other hand makes the corn extremely popular.

Now my question is: what are the circumstances of Marge's death and what differentiated her from Rich while she was alive? In my opinion, this detail is too important to omit if you want to have a seamless message. Also keep in mind, the name Rich is not going to be directly apparent to the audience like the names were during Eanna.


Corn is a widely regarded as a symbol for life within the American Indian culture. It's pretty basic, corn was the staple of the Indian diet and so was essentially the equivalent of Caucasian American "bread"... which as any good American would know is the traditional slang term for "MONEY!!!" (woot).

You may see where I'm going with this - your entire story essentially encapsulates the degeneration of traditional "native" American values into the crass materialism America has always been famous for - which would ultimately lead to the depraved greed and capitalism we are now INfamous for.

Corn begins as the staple of American survival (let's think Thanksgiving) but has now become another piece of the American "dog-eat-dog" (pun definitely intended) culture. Rich symbolizes the wealth that Bentley will soon have and the popularity of the corn simply points to the gluttony of America.

You're almost there - just dress up Marge in a way that associates her with the outdated, unpopular and "humane" American values, and you've got yourself one powerful message. My suggestion - make her an actual Native American. The last of the Navajo tribe?

I completely missed the part about the drugs... I'm going to have to review the script... if it were my play, I would only keep it only to explain the "insanity" of your Bentley character. Outside of that, it does not count for too much.

and as a result
I have made this edit:

New addition to scene III, in triple-bracket:

[PAUSE]
RICH: you said this started when...
BENTLEY: When Marge died.
RICH: Yeah. That.
BENTLEY: What about it?
[[[RICH: Wh... where was she from, anyway?
BENTLEY: She was Navajo, way back.
RICH: Really?
BENTLEY: Lived on the land for a long time. Wouldnt go to the reservation.
RICH: Jesus.
BENTLEY: Youre dodging the point. What about her?]]]
RICH: What... what happened, exactly?
BENTLEY: The doctor said it was probably her heart.
RICH: It just, gave out on her?
BENTLEY: She was getting on in years, you know.

[Cicero]

Sounds like "secret window".