THEATER 196: I Didn't Know

Pat, an isolating, military veteran is asked to put his pain aside to be the father his adult son needs when the young man arrives unannounced… but will he be able to?

Gary Lamb directs a cast that includes David Purdham as Pat and David Andrew Calvillo as Zayne.

Chance Lang is the playwright. New York City born, and Los Angeles raised, Chance is a Writer/Director known for his original works Going Home (2025), Trying (2023), One Take (2021), and Hypocrite (2019), and has collaborated internationally with The Useless Room at Institute Grotowski in Wroclaw and Brzezinka, Poland (2018), and WITKACY/Two Headed Calf at the Divine Comedy Festival in Krakow, Poland, TEATR Studio Warsaw, and REDCAT in Los Angeles.

Transcript

SPEAKER_00 0:05

Hello, and welcome to Open Door Playhouse, a theater podcast that celebrates live theater on the podcast stage. I'm Gary B. Lamb. At Opendo Playhouse, we strive to bring our listeners thoughtful and surprising 10-minute shorts and one-act plays that showcase insightful and new perspectives of the world we share with others. Openoor Playhouse is a 501 C3 nonprofit theater organization. Support for Open Door Playhouse comes from listeners like you. Your tax-deductible donations help keep our plays on the podcast stage. Donations can be made at www.opendoorplayhouse.org. Now playing in Theater 198, I Didn't Know by Chance Lamb. Directed by yours truly, Gary B. Lamb, with David Purdom as Pat and David Andrew Calvio as Zane.

SPEAKER_01 1:38

The only thing it's real shit.

SPEAKER_02 1:51

Oh shit. Huge fucking roll. Huge fucking roll. And that's it. Done. With one fucking move, he pryes the enemy's hands apart, twists out of his headlock, breaks his wrist, and shatters his shoulder. Now free with space and time, he fucking hey. He buffs it. Utterly buffs it. He grabs his gun, fumble city, and shoots himself in the foot. Fuck all right, wait a minute. What the fuck is going on around here? That's not what happened. What the fuck happened? What? Hey who is it? It's me. Who's me? Your son. Which one? Your only son. Are you alone? Yeah. What are you doing here? How do I know it's you? I wouldn't be here if I had anywhere else to go. Jesus, you don't even look like me. Mom had strong jeans. You look like an art piece. Makeup and clothes, painted nails. Well, we're all performing something. Hey, hey, hey. Not so fast. What? What are you doing here? Can't I just swing by and say hi? No. Not even during the day. And it looks like you're trying to stay, so Dominique kicked me out. What's a Dominic? My girlfriend. French. You have a girlfriend? We've been together for three and a half years. You've never had a girlfriend. I've had lots of girlfriends, actually. What? Three? Four? Exactly. I rest my case. I'd like to try to get to know someone. No, you're looking for another mother to spend your life crossing your legs next to. All right. What's this? This is new. I made it. I can tell. What is it? Nothing. Doesn't look like nothing. Looks like a very rustic something. It's my game. You have a game? Can I play? It's a one player. I can't even play. No! So don't touch it. What are you, twelve? I'm not gonna break anything. Don't fucking touch it! You mean like this? Uh whoops. Put him down! Who's him? You know him? Zane? Pat! Put the enemy down! Fine! Putting the enemy down! That's not where he was! Putting the enemy down exactly where he was. More to the right. Not not that much. Back. Wait. A a little. Yeah. Better? Recovered? Or still blinded by rage? You're so disrespectful. Why is this so important? I'm trying to remember what happened. Is this the battle? This is where you were. Well, it's not exact. Yeah, duh, but it's when you stepped on the IED. You you built a game to reenact your five minutes in battle? To remember what happened. What's to remember? You were looking for IEDs, you stepped on one, you were dragged out and brought here. But the enemy was there. And I only remember what happened after. And the captain wasn't there after. But before I I I I just don't remember what happened. Is this a realistic reenactment? Because it'd be a shame to spend so much time making a game that takes 15 minutes to play. Fuck you. I was there for hours. It was 150 degrees. I was getting barbecued and looking at a bloody stump and dying. And no one was there. I was fucking stranded. Show some respect. Okay. I'm sorry, okay? Yeah? You sure you ungrateful fucking shrimp? Yeah, I'm sorry. Okay? I'm sorry. You remember in high school when you drank too much, blacked out, woke up not knowing how the fuck you got there, called me freaking out, how fucking scared you were? Imagine not remembering this. You're gone in the morning.

unknown 6:25

Okay.

SPEAKER_02 6:25

Early. Okay. I'm sorry. I can sleep on the floor. I'll get something to make it better. Can I uh unpack a little? If you keep it neat. Everything will be at right angles, I promise. I'm just gonna get you a pillow and a blanket. You want anything? Water, chips, ice cream, juice box? Yeah, I'm fine, thanks. I had a probiotic chia seed kombucha. For dinner? Just on the way. Okay. Why'd she kick you out? I'm not the man she wants. Ha! We know. You're not a man at all. Well, biologically, anatomically, you're wrong. Being a man ain't just about having a dick. Right. It's about holding the door open. It's about protecting your family. Too bad you couldn't protect me from you. You know, I don't like you either. I wish we weren't this way. I'd like to get along, but we don't. And if you keep it up, I'm just gonna throw you out. Fuck you, Dad. Fuck me? Fuck you! God, what did I do to deserve your bad mood? Why couldn't you give that to a friend, huh? Why? Cause I I didn't want them to know yet, okay? So they agree with her and you're embarrassed or what? No. I just I'm never gonna be what she wants. I'm never gonna have money or a house or any of that. I hate wealth. I hate how people can just buy their way out of empathy and into narcissism and apathy because they can afford enough fucking convenience. And I hate how America grades value from who's got it more fucking convenient, because what about the soul? And honestly, at its core, this this obsession with comfort and the gears that churn it, the whole thing, it's just fucking racist. All I know is that something happened and you didn't handle it. Instead, you came to Daddy. I came to you because you were supposed to be able to be there for me. No, I am not. No one is supposed to be there. You fight your battles alone! That's not true. That's just not true. I mean, you could choose to be here right now. What do you need? Just listen. I'm teaching you to toughen up and handle your shit. Because no one will ever protect you. That's not true. It is. I just wish you took it seriously. Even your mom abandoned me in the hospital. And you didn't see me cry about it. I mean, have you seen her? No, she's gone. She left. Didn't leave a number or nothing. I just wish you could be my dad. And I guess we can't always get what we want. Fine, you want me to listen? Fine. I'll listen. But be a fucking man. And really, answer this. Why did she kick you out? We did not agree on what needed to be sacrificed. What was on the table? I'm not gonna quit art and ruin my life so she can be a mom. Just do both. I can't. Why not? Cause I I can't take care of myself. That's why I needed her. Everything, just living. It's a lot. And I I I can't stay clean or keep things clean. And I forget my schedule, and I get fired. And I just can't take care of myself. And I saw it happen. She said she was starting to feel like my mom. Well, good for her. We all gotta make sacrifices. And you need to figure out what's worth making a sacrifice for. God damn it. What did I ever do to you? I never hit you, and I paid for school and your car and your phone. How did I fail? My dad never did half as much, and I appreciated every minute of him. You tell me what a man was. You were wrong, and then you left. Then since you know so much about being a man with your long hair and painted nails and this whole fucking getup. I mean, what is this? I've been watching you stare at tits since before you could walk. I mean, this performance of you ain't you. I think you even know that. But you don't give a fuck about you, do you? It doesn't matter as long as you're not me, right? As long as you're not a man. So then tell me, poet, what is a man? A man is say it pretty, poet. A man is a wooden rock. A utopic conceptual impossibility. Didn't even rhyme. Why do you hate me? Because you're disrespectful. I didn't lose my legs so you could paint your nails. Everything you are is why I paint my nails. You flaunt around with your bent wrists, talking fancy, disrespecting anything you don't understand. You hobble around, blaming me for your stump praising country. It's country that took away your fucking foot and your future and your joy and locked you up in this shitty fucking apartment and said, Shut up, be a man, let us gaslight you into submission. And at first, I bet you thought you were a hero, but then you realized all you are is a man in his apartment by himself playing a board game meant for one. And maybe I would have had a dad if country didn't tell you to abandon your family. And mom didn't? I mean, what's a mom? I thought they were gonna take better care of me. I did. I really I didn't know. I had no idea. I mean, I gave them my life. And all I ever really wanted was to be helpful. But no good deed goes unpunished, that's for sure. I mean, I would have liked to be your dad. I'd like to be able to hear normal city shit and not think my heart's gonna pop. I'd like to be able to eat cooked meat or smell cooked meat without thinking about my foot. And then I can't stop seeing it, and even though it's not there and it's it starts to hurt all over again, and I I mean, what do I do? What if you got help? How? Talk to someone or take something? I'm not taking anything. Or go somewhere. It's not safe. If I freak out on someone, that's jail. And if I go to jail, that's solitary, and that's it. Then talk to someone. Like who? Like someone who knows. Someone who who understands. Someone who can help. And do what? I don't know. Maybe show them your game. I mean, you're already doing it. Like you said, you're already working on it, trying to remember. And it's super creative. And now maybe you just share this with someone else who gets it. Someone else who knows where this is, or someone who knows where the captain went. No. No. You deserve better than this. It was me. What? It was me. It was going off. And it was me or him. And I pulled him in front. That's why he wasn't there. There was nothing left. He was all over. He was all over. Back your shit. Pack your shit. Why? Because I said so! God, you must think I'm some dumbass, some dipshit that doesn't know, but I know. Everything you think I don't know, I know. God, I know so much more than I say because you can't say it. Saying it is impossible. It's not possible to say what happened. And I know I was lied to. I was lied to a lot. I even lied a little too. And I didn't get what I deserve. But now I just want to feel good. That's it. I just want to feel good. Because it's just me. And this is all I can keep clean. And that's okay. That's okay, but I I got nowhere to go. If you if you need to sleep, find a bridge. Dad! Just figure it out! Dad! Get out! Get out! God, it was 150 degrees and I was getting fucking barbecued. I'm looking at a bloody fucking stump and I'm dying and no one was there, just me fucking stranding. I know, and it's okay, it is. Get out, Dad! Get out! Get out. Dad. My my stuff's inside. Come back later. Dad. I need to be alone. Dad, please. Zane. I need to be alone, okay? I don't want this, but this is what it is. And I need you to figure it out. Okay. Okay, I I know where I'm gonna go. I love you. Please go.

SPEAKER_01 17:23

I would keep us.

SPEAKER_00 17:41

Our plays are produced by Bernardette Armstrong, recorded by David Peters at Oak House Studio in Altadina, California. Sound effects are provided by Audio Jungle and music from karaoke version. If you are interested in submitting a play for production, you can find that information on our website, www.opendoorplayhouse.org. Please share this podcast with friends and don't forget to subscribe so you will be notified when our next production is live.