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At Cross Purposes

(A Foreman – strong, husky type – stands beside a counter, checking off items on a clipboard. The Believer comes in, walks hesitantly to the counter.)

Believer: ‘Scuse me … they told me I need to pick up something.

Foreman: Uh, lessseeee … new believer? (Believer nods) Name? (Believer leans over, scans clipboard, indicates a name) Ah. Okay. (Checks it off, indicates a cross lying on its side downstage.) There you go. That’s yours right there.

Believer: (Following his finger, puzzled look on his face) Mine? My what?

Foreman: See for yourself.

Believer: (Walking over) What’s this?

Foreman: You don’t know?

Believer: Well, yes, I know. It’s a cross. (A beat) You wear ‘em around your neck.

Foreman: Heck of a neck someone thinks you have.

Believer: Who’s this from?

Foreman: (Checking clipboard -- impressed) God.

Believer: God? God sent me this?

Foreman: That’s what it says here.

Believer: Huh. (A beat) God? (Foreman nods) God God?

Foreman: Yeah. (Believer still looks confused) Big Guy. Invisible. Moves in mysterious ways –

Believer: I know Who He is!

Foreman: Do you? (A beat) Then why are you so surprised to get this?

Believer: Does He give ‘em to everybody?

Foreman: Noooo. Just His friends.

Believer: (Shaking his head) I can’t wear this.

Foreman: You’re not supposed to wear it.

Believer: What am I supposed to do with it?

Foreman: Carry it.

Believer: Carry it? (A look at Foreman. Foreman looks back. Shrugs) Carry it. (He bends and lifts it, awkwardly.) Man, it’s heavy.

Foreman: (Comes over, tries it, lifts it easily) Not to me.

Believer: You don’t have to carry it.

Foreman: True enough. (Goes over to counter, pulls out a smaller, hand-sized cross) Got one of my own.

Believer: How come yours is so little?

Foreman: Little? Ha! Try picking it up.

Believer: (Tries. Can’t) Wow! But it’s so little.

Foreman: Huh. Funny. Everybody always thinks the other guy’s cross is smaller.

Believer: Look. I don’t need this … thing. Can’t you give it back?

Foreman: Nope. (As Believer starts to complain) Nooo. Only know one person who can take it off your hands.

Believer: Who’s that?

Foreman: The One Who gave it to you.

Believer: Think I can get Him to take it back?

Foreman: Sure. No problem. (Relief on Believer’s face. He turns to walk away) But that’s it.

Believer: It?

Foreman: The end of the relationship.

Believer: I don’t want to end the relationship. I just want to get rid of my cross.

Foreman: You can’t get rid of it. It’s a gift.

Believer: But I don’t want it. I don’t even … like it.

Foreman: (Motions him over, then leans in, as if to tell a secret) If you liked it ... it wouldn’t be a cross.

Believer: (A long look at Foreman. A long look down at the cross. Then he bends, lifts it awkwardly, and with not a little difficulty, begins to drag it offstage) Don’t suppose you could help me?

Foreman: No. You have to carry that one yourself. (A beat) He’ll help you, though.

Believer: (Gasping) Right. (He struggles on a little farther, then goes down on one knee) Man, ‘m dying here!

Foreman: (Turning back to his clipboard) That’s the idea.







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