BROTHERS: A Five-minute Play

As the play opens, one actor is sitting on a chair acting as if he is driving down the highway. The second actor, who is a highway patrolman, enters the stage behind the first, sliding his chair across the stage and making a siren-like sound.

The first driver stops his 'car.' The patrolman stops his 'cruiser,' gets out of it and cautiously approaches the driver's side of the first actor's 'car.'

PATROLMAN: Good afternoon, sir. May I see your driver's license?

The driver looks at the patrolman. Does a double take and exclaims.

DRIVER: My God, Carl, is that really you? We thought you were lost for good this time!

PATROLMAN: Sorry, sir. You must be mistaken. My name is not Carl.

DRIVER: What do you mean? Don't you think I know my long-lost brother, Carl Jung Skinner, when I see him, even if he did disappear with a profound case of amnesia?

PATROLMAN: Sir, I am not your brother, long lost and with amnesia, or not.

DRIVER: Don't shoot me, but I want to get out of the car and greet you like a brother should.

PATROLMAN: Sir, you will have to stay in the car and show me your driver's license. Then we can talk.

DRIVER: Of course. Of course. Here it is. Maybe it will help you to remember your brother when you see my license. It's all there. See: Bert Skinner. The address. The works.

PATROLMAN: Hmmm. Your license seems to be in order. Now tell me why you think I am your brother.

DRIVER: Because you are. You look like him. Your voice is 'his' voice. Everything fits; even the uniform. Carl, you always wanted be a cop-er, pardon me-a patrolman. Ever since you were a kid.

PATROLMAN: When did you last see your brother? When did he disappear?

DRIVER: Why, Carl, you should know. It was just over five years ago.

PATROLMAN: Ah, there you are, sir, I have been on the force for ten years. I couldn't possibly be your brother.

DRIVER: Of course you think you have been on the force for ten years. That's part of the delusion that comes with the amnesia. Loss of time orientation is part of the syndrome. You'll have to do better than that.

PATROLMAN: No, I won't. You will just have to take my word for it.

DRIVER: Look, Carl, I don't blame you for getting amnesia and leaving that bitch you were married to and those four kids by her first marriage. Monsters! All of them; especially her.

PATROLMAN: Sir, I have a lovely wife and three children. The oldest is seven. Believe me, sir, I am not your brother.

DRIVER: Ah, maybe you are his twin, Sigmund Freud Skinner. Sigmund disappeared from the hospital shortly after they were born. Our parents, the police, the hospital people looked everywhere. We never found poor Sigmund.

PATROLMAN: Sir, this is getting out of hand. My parents have a video of my birth. I was born in a birthing room. I was delivered by a midwife. It's all on the video.

DRIVER: Probably a faked video, one made so you would never doubt who you were.

PATROLMAN: Sir, I must protest. You have gone too far. First, you deny my wife and children, then my parents.

DRIVER: Believe me! I am a psychiatrist. I understand these things. I know how devious the human mind-especially the deluded mind-can be.

PATROLMAN: Please get out of the car and come back to my car, I will show you something that will entirely convince you.

The driver gets out of the car and the two walk back to the patrolman's car. When they arrive, the patrolman opens the back door of the cruiser on the driver's side, reaches in and hands the driver a framed citation.

PATROLMAN: There is your proof. This is a citation for ten years of meritorious service as the local highway patrolman.

DRIVER: Well, that certainly looks official and real. I guess you aren't Carl after all. You could still be Sigmund, though; don't forget that.

The patrolman sighs heavily. As the driver starts to hand the citation back to the patrolman, it drops to the ground. When the patrolman stoops to pick it up, the driver quickly and deftly reaches in through the driver's side front window and takes the cruiser's keys.

PATROLMAN: Sir, I am not either of your long-lost brothers. You will have to take my word on that.

DRIVER (Dejectedly.): So it seems. I was so happy to think that I had found at least one of my brothers. I was so very happy for a moment.

PATROLMAN: I can understand your disappointment. Tell you what. I'll forget the fact that you were going 85 in a 55-mile an hour zone. Just take it easy. Drive safely and sanely.

DRIVER (As he steps back into his car.): Thank you. Thank you. I will take it very easy.

The driver propels his car off the stage.

As the patrolman reaches his car, his radio sounds loudly. He reaches in and picks up the handset.

VOICE: Car 54. Come in Car 54. Where are you?

PATROLMAN: I'm on highway 66 about four miles from town.

VOICE: Be on the lookout for a stolen car. The driver has a fake ID with the name of Bert Skinner on it and will claim to be a psychiatrist. He is deemed harmless, but very clever. He may be headed your way.

The patrolman jumps into his cruiser. Looks for his keys briefly. Slaps the steering wheel, picks up the mike and . . .

PATROLMAN: This is Car 54. The suspect just left in the stolen car. I would go after him except that he stole the keys to my cruiser. By the way, capture him nice and easy like. He just might be my long-lost brother!

THE END