A drama skit for churches, prison ministries, and second chance programs (or anyone who wants to be blessed by reading it)

[This short play was written for the men's graduation ceremony of the CHILL OUT Inmate Re-Establishment Program at a prison in Philadelphia, PA. It was performed by the inmates who had completed the program and were about to be released after serving their time.]       

 

FREEDOM

A play by Dave Swavely

 

 

NEVERIN

My name is Irving Michael Neverin, or I. M. Neverin if that helps you to understand a little bit more about my character. I was never in jail or prison, but that’s not to say I haven’t been “behind bars,” as I’ve learned from my experiences with some former inmates. Here they are…

 

 

Scene One

 

(Interior, office, two chairs facing one another. NEVERIN is seated when CARTER BLANCH walks in.)

 

NEVERIN

Welcome, Mr. Blanch, come on in and have a seat.

 

(BLANCH sits down. Both should be half-facing the audience.)

 

BLANCH

Thanks. Call me Carter.

 

NEVERIN

Okay, Carter, I only have a few minutes till my next interview, since you were late, so let’s dive right in. I’m not sure there’s much point in talking very long anyway, since you were late to the interview. That’s usually a reason not to hire someone right there.

 

BLANCH

I’m really sorry, Mr. Neverin. I had a meeting with my parole officer and he kept me too long, then I had to take three busses to get here.

 

(NEVERIN just looks at him, head going back slightly and eyes going a little wider)

 

BLANCH

I guess that’s another reason it’ll be a short interview.

 

NEVERIN

Well, ahem…just to let you know, for future reference, you don’t have to tell people you’re an ex-con right away when you go for a job interview.  We took that box off our application for that reason.

 

BLANCH

You’d probably find out anyway. I was what I was.

 

NEVERIN

Well, if you really want to get a job…

 

BLANCH

I took three busses to get here.

 

(NEVERIN’s head goes back again, but then he nods.)

 

BLANCH

You ever done anything really bad, Mr. Neverin?

 

NEVERIN (thoughtful)

Yeah.

 

BLANCH

What’s the worst thing you’ve done?

 

NEVERIN (laughing nervously)

Well, I…I wouldn’t be able to talk about that with anybody.

 

BLANCH

I can. It’s a matter of public record, in fact. But I’ve learned from it and I’m a better man now. I can even help other people who are going through the same issues, like a lot of your employees probably are. They won’t talk to you about it, but they might talk to me about it. Wouldn’t you want someone like that working for you, who values the job enough to take three busses to get here? Instead of someone who complains all the time behind your back and’ll move on in a month?

 

(NEVERIN’s head goes back again, and he nods again, this time pursing his lips too)

 

NEVERIN

Well…let’s talk some more about the job.

 

(They move the chairs out of the way, and BLANCH exits)

 

 

Scene Two

 

(Interior, a door warehouse.)

 

NEVERIN

(calling to a man who is entering stage) Hey, I’m looking for Ritter. Is he around? I’ve got some papers for him to sign.

 

JOE Y.

Hold on. I’ll find out where he is. (takes a walkie talkie off his belt and talks into it) Ritter, you around? (no answer) Hmm…maybe he’s in the John or on the phone. Give it a minute, and we’ll try again.

 

NEVERIN

Something really great must have happened to you today.

 

JOE Y.

Hmm?

 

NEVERIN

I heard you singing, while you were driving the forklift.

 

JOE Y.

Naaa, I always do that when I’m working. Don’t you?

 

NEVERIN

Uh, nooo. I don’t even like my job that much, and, no offense, but I could never be happy driving a forklift and moving doors around all day.

 

JOE Y.

Why not?

 

NEVERIN

Well, I’ve got a Master’s Degree, for one. And I could never pay for my house, my car, my kids’ school, and uhhh my wife’s shopping habits, if I had a job like this. Yeah, no, I could never be happy working here, or a lot of places.

 

JOE Y.

Well I can.

 

NEVERIN

No offense.

 

JOE Y.

None taken. (pauses and smiles) Let’s try Ritter again. (raises and waves walkie talkie)

 

(JOE Y. exits, talking into the walkie talkie as he does)

 

 

Scene Three

 

(Exterior, top of a high roof on an office building. ANTHONY stands forward on the edge of the roof with his hands out to his sides like wings. NEVERIN and LEE BERTI, one of his formerly-incarcerated employees, stand behind ANTHONY at a safe distance, NEVERIN slightly in front of LEE.)

 

ANTHONY

Stay back, I’m gonna jump.

 

NEVERIN

(to LEE, hand beside mouth) We’ve gotta keep him up here until the cops come. (to ANTHONY) Anthony, please don’t do this. I…I’m already having a bad day, what with the lost invoices and all.

 

(LEE opens his mouth and rolls his eyes)

 

NEVERIN

There are people depending on you…your family.

 

ANTHONY

My girlfriend left me and took the kids. I told you that yesterday!

 

NEVERIN

Well, your mother. She’s old, right?

 

ANTHONY

She’s dead, man. I took off for the funeral.

 

NEVERIN

Oh, right. But she’s looking down now, she’s watching you.

 

(LEE opens his mouth again and shakes his head slightly)

 

ANTHONY (more distraught)

My girlfriend went to the cops—they always believe the woman. I. Am. Not. Getting locked up.

 

NEVERIN

Well, you do have a point there. I wouldn’t be able to make it in jail, that’s for sure.

 

LEE

(shaking his head more vigorously) Okay, that’s it. (steps up and puts an open hand in front of NEVERIN’s chest)

 

LEE (to ANTHONY)

Hey, brother. It’s Lee, Lee Berti. I feel you, man. Remember what I told you I been through? I know how it feels, I really do. Twenty times, must’ve been, I been where you are. Remember what you called me the other day when I sneezed, that long word you made up that had the boys rolling on the ground? If a whatever like me can make it twenty times, I know you can, this one.

 

ANTHONY

(thinks for a second, then nods and says slowly, remembering the word he made up) Lotta…snotta…pocalypse. (smiling now, says the word faster) Lottasnottapocalypse. That’s what it was. (waves hand at his nose and mouth, laughing) Shoulda been a Kleenex commercial.

 

LEE

Yeah. (laughing now too) Didn’t taste very good either.

 

(ANTHONY laughs hard enough to stumble and almost fall off the roof)

 

LEE

Woooah, brother. Easy. Come ‘ere man.

 

(ANTHONY stumbles toward LEE and hugs him, extended hug, then they exit)

 

 

NEVERIN

You see what I learned about these guys who’d been in chains: that they’re actually more free than I am in many ways. They’re free to be honest about themselves and the things they’ve done wrong, because it’s come out; I’m confined to hiding my sins from everyone. Which is not just a form of enslavement, by the way—it’s downright exhausting sometimes. They’re free to enjoy many kinds of work and be truly grateful for it; I can’t really appreciate any because I’m so shackled by professional pride and all the bills I’ve accumulated. They’re free to help a lot of people that I can’t because of my limited life experiences. Notice how often in those encounters I said “I can’t,” “I couldn’t,” or “I wouldn’t be able to”—those inner handcuffs, in a way, are more restricting than any physical chains they’ve had to endure. Notice how often the former inmates said “I can,” and remember that. There are so many things they can do, even a lot of things that us NEVERINs could never do.

 

But there’s one more experience I had with a former inmate, one that will tell us about the most important kind of freedom any of us could ever have…

 

 

Scene Four

 

(Interior, NEVERIN’s office. Two chairs facing each other. NEVERIN is seated and JUSTIN enters.)

 

NEVERIN

Justin…Hi. Come on in, have a seat.

 

JUSTIN

Thanks, Mr. Neverin.

 

NEVERIN

I heard about the fire…man, I am so sorry to hear that you lost everything.

 

JUSTIN

It’s okay. The only stuff that survived are the things I’d given away.

 

NEVERIN

Wow, that’s a good outlook. And your family’s okay, I heard. Did you have renter’s insurance?

 

JUSTIN

No, didn’t know there was such a thing. Until I needed it, that is. (laughs). And now we owe a lot more than before, because all the stock from my wife’s home business was destroyed.

 

NEVERIN

Oh, man, how you gonna make it? Your salary is so low.

 

JUSTIN

God will provide. The church is helping us out until the government assistance kicks in.

 

NEVERIN

Oh, man, that must be tough…. I’d never be able to ask my church for charity money, and I couldn’t even imagine being on welfare. (pauses when he realizes what he’s said and puts hand up) No offense.

 

JUSTIN

None taken. (puts hand up) But I feel bad for you.

 

NEVERIN

You feel bad for me?

 

JUSTIN

Yeah, because you could never take charity. Why do you say that?

 

NEVERIN

Well, first of all, I earn so much that I would never need it, but even if I did, I don’t think my pride would let me.

 

JUSTIN

That’s too bad, because the word charity comes from a word in the Bible that means grace, and without it…none of us can have a relationship with God. Ephesians 2:8-9 says, “By grace you are saved through faith, and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God—not by works, so that no one can boast.” Something else I got from church. (smiles) Also, “God is opposed to the proud, but gives grace to the humble.” That’s James.

 

NEVERIN

Do you preach at your church?

 

JUSTIN

No, I just listen. But when I do, God speaks to me. You should try it.

 

NEVERIN

Hmm, maybe I will.

 

JUSTIN

(Stands up, faces the audience) You may never have to take money from anyone, but you sure as heaven have to be able to receive what you don’t deserve from Jesus in the spiritual realm. He died on the cross to pay the penalty for sin, and he came for the poor in spirit…the ones who know they need him.

 

(Pause, then other actors join him for a bow or two)

 

 

The End