UNCLE - Act I, Scene 1

ACT I

Scene One

SCENE - Spring, the present. It is afternoon; the sun shines through the blinds of a fifth floor office window in downtown Chicago. DR. KARI WEISKOPF, a cheerful 34 year old psychiatrist, is sitting quietly behind her desk by the window working on some paperwork. To her left is a sofa and chair while several full bookshelves line up on the other side of the room. The phone rings and Kari answers it. Her secretary has called to tell her that her new patient has arrived. Kari gets up and goes to the door. Enter JIM ATKINS.

KARI. Hello Mr. Atkins. Come on in. (Pointing toward the couch.) Go ahead and have a seat.

JIM. Thank you ma'am. Nice office. I've been meaning to do something like this with my apartment now for months.

KARI. Yes, this is a nice office. I hear you know one of my patients, Ron Murphy. He tells me that you're in need of some ... well, reassurance of some sort.

JIM. This is the first time I've had to see one of you people. Well I really don't have to see a shrink, it's just that Ron told me about you and I kind of wanted to talk to someone. You know? I don't have to lie down on this thing do I?

KARI. You don't have to sit down at all if you don't want to. (Sitting down in the chair.) So where do you know Ronny from?

JIM. (Reluctantly sitting down on the couch). We work together at Chicago Bank and Trust. I don't really know him that well.

KARI. Are you a Sales Representative too?

JIM. Uh, no, actually I work in Data Processing. I know it's a go nowhere job but it pays good so I guess I can't complain.

KARI. Well Ron tells me you need to talk to someone about something from your past. Is that right?

JIM. Something like that. I don't have any family and my friends ... well let's just say I don't want them thinking I'm a nutcase. Ron told me about you and how you've helped him out so I figured I'd try something my father should have tried years ago and go see a shrink.

KARI. (Cheerfully). So you came to see a psychiatrist. I'm flattered. So tell me about yourself Mr. Atkins. Where are you from?

JIM. Chicago, well Oak Brook to be exact but I've always centered around the big city. That's the way most of my family has been for years. Aren't too many of us that have gone far away from this town.

KARI. Why haven't you gone elsewhere?

JIM. (rubbing his head with his hand). Well, I um ... I guess I just don't like change. I can't see myself, I mean I don't want to, aw hell I don't know. Look Doctor Weiskopf ...

KARI. You can call me Kari.

JIM. Okay, Kari, I'm not good in this kind of surrounding. Can we just talk openly and freely without all of the psychiatrist jargon? I want to get all of this out, but I want to feel like I'm actually talking to a real person and not a robot who's gonna keep repeating "I don't know, what do you think," every time I need some reassurance. Can we do that?

KARI (smiling). We can do that. Actually the reputation of a psychiatrist is quite dull, but I can reassure you that I'm not the typical shrink.

JIM. I'll say. I was expecting an old battle ax with thick glasses and a body like a dowel rod. This is a pleasant surprise.

KARI. Well aren't you a little charmer. Are you married, Mr. Atkins?

JIM. Nope. I'm thirty-six, never been married and never will be.

KARI. Well, that's good. If you know you don't want to get married, you shouldn't do so. Too many people end up on that couch after a perfect marriage goes sour. They just don't know what they're doing when they get married.

JIM. Kind of like my parents. I don't see a ring on your finger Doc. What's your story?

KARI. Well actually I was married about ten years ago but it didn't work out and I haven't been back to the alter since. So why did you just say that about your parents? Are they divorced?

JIM. Actually they're both dead, but no, they never did get divorced.

KARI. I'm sorry to hear that. When did they die?

JIM. My dad died about ten years ago and my mom just died a couple months ago.

KARI (sitting back in the chair). Is that what you came here to talk about? Was it your mother's death? (Pause.) Mr. Atkins?

JIM. Huh? Oh I'm sorry. I must have dazed off there for a minute. What were you saying?

KARI. Was it your mother's death that you wanted to talk with me about?

JIM. Well, yes and no. Right before my mom died she told me something that has, well, stirred up some old and lost memories so to speak.

KARI. What was that?

JIM. It's hard to describe.

KARI. Take your time.

JIM. Okay. She told me that my uncle Jerry had kept his promise to me. No more and no less.

KARI. I don't understand.

JIM (laying back). For the past two years my mom has been a nursing home suffering from Alzheimer's Disease. The last year and a half she didn't know who I was anymore. The day before she died the doctors called me and told me she was mumbling my name for the first time in months. When I got there she looked at me and said "Your Uncle Jerry kept his promise. You were right." Then she slipped into a coma and died several hours later.

KARI (after a long pause). What promise?

JIM. The promise that he'd return.

KARI. Return from where?

JIM. The war. Vietnam. Boy, I don't even know where to start.

KARI. Start at the beginning.

JIM. Well my dad wasn't much of a father. He wasn't abusive or anything like that, he just ignored me whenever I was around. I don't think he wanted to have kids, but my mom convinced him to try it out, so to speak. I guess he tried when I was little, but as I got older, he got less and less interested. That's where Jerry came in. He was my best friend when I was young, and actually was more of a father than my real father was. He was always taking me places, telling me stories, and just spending time with me. If he promised me anything, I could count on him keeping it. The one I'm sure mom was talking about was the one when he went off to fight in Vietnam. He was a Navy S.E.A.L. and was going off into the thick of the battle. He promised to come back and tell me all about it. And he did.

KARI. Why is that so unusual? I still don't understand.

JIM. Well sit back and relax, Doc, 'cause I've got one very bizarre story to tell you.

(Kari gets up and goes to her desk to get a pen and paper then sits back down and prepares to listen to Jim's story.)

(Blackout)