The Argument

CHARACTERS 
SHEILA, early 60s, twice divorced. 
STAN, early 60s, builder, has lived with Sheila for the past five years. 
NEIGHBOR, 70s, long-time resident of this rural neighborhood. 

SETTING 
Breakfast nook in Sheila’s rambling house in rural Washington. 

Sheila
. . . Well, who left the garage door open in the first place? 

Stan 
Who left the house last, and didn’t notice it was open? 

Sheila 
MY car wasn’t in the garage. 

Stan 
Oh, and so you didn’t see that it was wide open? 

Sheila 
You said you’d be back on Thursday. 

Stan 
So it was Saturday. Inspector had to reschedule; the concrete guy didn’t show . . . It’s always something out there. Anyway, that leaves two days the garage was wide open, while you were off— 

Sheila 
—visiting my son for his birthday, as I told you. 

Stan 
So you say . . . 

Sheila 
What’s that supposed to mean? (The Neighbor calls in from the front door.) 

Neighbor 
Knock, knock! Just me! 

Stan 
(Under his breath.) Oh, boy, here we go . . .  

Sheila 
Come on in, Handsome! (To Stan.) Be nice! (Neighbor enters.) 

Sheila 
Need eggs, Stranger? There’s some on the counter. Just take six, though, Cynthia went broody again. 

Neighbor 
Well, sure. The Missus could use some. Hope I’m not interrupting anything, but your door was open, so . . .  

Sheila 
Nothing important, right, Stan? 

Neighbor 
I just thought I’d pop in and let you know I’ve been watching a robin fly in and out of your garage while you were gone. I think it’s built a— 

Stan and Sheila 
—A nest! 

Stan 
Yeah, we know. 

Sheila 
(Shoots Stan a look.) We were just discussing that. Looks like she built a nest above the garage door, when STAN left it open. Isn’t that sweet? 

Stan 
(To Neighbor.) Sheila wants to leave the nest be, which means leaving the garage door open for however long. There aren’t even eggs in the nest yet. 

Sheila 
We don’t know that! And wouldn’t it be lovely to watch her little brood hatch? Instagram the whole process! 

Neighbor 
That’s what the Missus was saying— 

Stan 
—We can’t leave the garage open for an entire gestation period, my tools are in there! 

Sheila 
And a lot of junk. 

Stan 
Expensive tools! Hell, I can’t build homes with a beak and wings like your precious redbreast. 

Neighbor 
I gotta side with Stan on this one. Kick her out before she lays! You have plenty of bird houses out back, maybe your robin wouldn’t mind relocating. 

Sheila 
Oh, no. The robins and hummingbirds do NOT get along. 

Stan 
God damn hummingbirds dive bomb you as soon as you open the slider. And how much money do you spend on sugar for those addicts? 

Sheila 
Oh, my god, do you just have it out for avians all of a sudden? 

Stan 
Yeah, that’s it. That’s why I built all those cute bird houses you wanted and the chicken coop that’s nicer than the condo your unemployed drunkard of a son lives in! 

Sheila 
Well, we could afford a nicer condo for him if you weren’t so cheap. 

Stan 
He could afford his OWN condo if he got a job! 

Neighbor 
Hard to find rentals these days, what with all the gentrification going on. 

Stan 
But plenty of jobs out there. I’ve been looking for competent construction help for months! Not that Conrad is competent at anything— 

Sheila 
—Whoa! Leave Conrad out of this! We are talking about a robin who has chosen our garage to call home. Maybe it’s the safest neighborhood she can find? Remember that fox we saw? 

Neighbor 
Isn’t it the male bird that builds the nest to lure the female? 

Sheila 
Well that explains it! HE built the nest in a stupid place! But now that it’s there, mama bird has settled in. (Sighs.) We females, always having to settle— (Winks at Neighbor.) 

Neighbor 
—We should Google robins. (Begins fiddling with phone.) 

Sheila 
—We should let her stay. 

Stan 
Great. I’ll close the door, and she can stay. For good! No flying in and out for worms and blue sky! Is that what you want? A dead robin on your conscience? 

Sheila 
You could build a window in the side of the garage with all your fancy tools, and she would be able to fly in and out with the door closed! 

Neighbor
Now, that doesn’t make sense. The nest is on top of the door. So if you close it— 

Stan 
—Of course, that’s what you want! The Lady Bird should always be able to fly in and out as she pleases. 

Sheila 
What’s that supposed to mean? 

Stan 
(Quietly.) You weren’t at your son’s, were you. 

Sheila 
What are you implying? 

Neighbor 
Uhh, this is where I exit. I’ll just grab those eggs— 

Sheila 
Sure. (Waves her fingers at Neighbor.) Stan? I’m waiting. 

Neighbor 
Shall I close the door on my way out or— 

Stan 
(Slaps the table.) —You left your phone on the counter last night and— (Neighbor makes a hasty exit.) 

Sheila 
—And you snooped. Well, what incriminating evidence did you find, Sherlock? Guess I have to change my password—AGAIN! 

Stan 
(Quoting.) “So excited to see you! I’ve been dreaming of it all week!” with kissy emojis. It was not to your son’s number. 

Sheila 
Oh my god! That was . . . I’ve told you, I—yes, all right! I ALSO visited an old friend who lives in Seattle, very close to Conrad. We just talk that way, all talk. Haven’t seen him in years. It was a very nice visit— 

Stan 
—How nice? 

Sheila 
Oh, don’t be so possessive. You know I’m a flirt. I’ve always been a flirt. It’s one of the things that endeared me to you, isn’t that right? Geez, I can be friends with other men; it doesn’t mean I don’t love YOU. You know I’ll always fly back home, Sweetness. 

Stan 
Cut the cuteness, Sheila. 

Sheila 
You’re the cute one—spring green with jealousy? 

Stan 
Stop! It’s not just this guy. Who’s “Hank the Tank?” 

Sheila 
Oh, god! Just a guy at the local. You know I go there some nights when you’re not home. I miss you and can’t sleep— 

Stan 
Oh, that’s a good one. 

Sheila 
Stan, seriously. (She takes his hand.) We’re too old for this. Isn’t it enough we share this beautiful place? Sure, sometimes we go our separate ways—do a little solo flying—but we come back! We always come back . . . (Stan stands, heads for the door.) Where are you going? 

Stan 
To the work site. And I’m gonna spend the night out there AGAIN. Thought you might be interested so you can contact emoji-kissy-guy . . . or Hank! And after I back out my truck, I’m going to push that little garage door button and your buddy bird’s nest is going for a tsunami of a ride to the concrete slab! 

Sheila 
Damn it, Stan, don’t! (She blocks his way, putting arms around his neck.) 

Stan 
Let go. (Removes her arms gently. Heads for door.) 

Sheila 
At least check for eggs first! Stan? (Calling after him.) Stan! (Runs to door and hollers out.) Well, who left the garage door open in the first place?! . . . HOME WRECKER! 

Stan 
(Distant.) Aw, shit! 

Sheila 
What! What is it? Eggs? (Pause.) I knew it! (Pause. A truck starts up.) Oh! Hey wait, Babe! Could you pick up a ten-pound bag of sugar on your way home? The hummers are running low. (Pause. Truck revs.) LOVE YOU!  

END 

ROBIN WOOLMAN

Robin Woolman is a performer and teacher of circus skills in Portland, Oregon. She dates her passion for writing back to Miss Matteroli’s second grade class. Her more recent works of poetry and short fiction have been published in Global Poemic, Deep Wild, Cirque, and Poeming Pigeon. Her short play “Worship” was performed as part of Portland’s participation in Climate Change Action Theater and published in Cirque.