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A play in one act
SCENE 1 A bright June morning in a fenced vegetable garden in Maine. A woman is planting the garden. At her side is a brown tabby cat.
Thistle [leaping into the bed the woman is planting]: I can see why these are called raised beds. This soil is so nice and fluffy, it’s wonderful for rolling. This is great! Oh, look how She’s smiling at me, I just melt when She looks at me like that. Gee, this is so soft. Oops, She’s turned her back and is working in that other bed, I'd better get on over there to see how I can help [hops nimbly out, and into the next bed]. Why, this one has little hills and valleys. I think I'll see if I can walk from one end to the other just stepping in the valleys. Now, this is fun! Oh, why is She leaving? Is She mad? Did I do something?
SCENE 2 Several hours later. A black cat sits in the path just outside the garden where the woman again is working.
Bonita: I really want to go and be with Her but She’s got that rain snake in her hand. I know She doesn't do it deliberately, but once or twice She didn't see me coming and let it hiss at me. I got pretty wet. Well, maybe just misted. Just the same I think I'd best wait out here. I know, I'll lie down in the path where She'll be sure to see me. Hmmm, if I roll over on my back and put my paws in the air, I know She'll find me irresistible. She always does. I'll just lie here... [snores gently]
SCENE 3 That night. In weak moonlight, a gray tabby streaks up the path and dashes up the fence.
Spicy: I love this garden! I love this fence! I can see so far from up here, and I can run all the way around the garden. This is such fun! Oh, and what do I see down there–six litter boxes with nice fluffy litter, and they're all mine!
SCENE 4 Two weeks later. The full moon casts bright light on the garden, where tiny green seedlings can be seen poking up in crooked rows, the carrots in the row marked Beets, the beets in the row marked Chard, the chard in the row marked Beans, and so on throughout the garden. Over each bed a rectangle of chicken wire winks in the moonlight. Not a creature is stirring.
The End
Copyright © Lynda Goldsmith
October 19, 2000
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