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Winter Break

Jackson: I don’t “entertain the idea of...

Overview

Show Type
Play
Age Guidance
Youth (Y)/General Audiences (G)
Genders
  • Female: 1
  • Male: 1
Playing Age
Young Adult
Style
Dramatic
Length
Medium
Time Period
Contemporary
Time/Place
A crowded Amtrak train, present day
Act/Scene
Act 1

Context

Text

Jackson: I don’t “entertain the idea of you.” Don’t say that. It’s Christmas. I know I haven’t been always fair. Over the past few months. But the time of year… it makes things clear. You know?

Jessica: I know.

Jackson: And I’m saying, I want to watch you eat pancakes on Christmas morning.

Jessica: And I’m saying I think you should go home.

Jackson: I’m trying to say I’m sorry.

Jessica: That might have made a difference in October. It really might have. But it’s too late, Jack.

Jackson: It’s never too late.

Jessica: Then go home. I didn’t ask you to give them up for me. And it’s making you awful, you miss them so much.

Conductor: (over the loudspeaker) All aboard! Next stop, Yonkers!

Jackson looks at Jessica. Their eyes are locked.

Jackson: I don’t miss them.

Jessica: It’s making us awful. And I can’t do that anymore.

Jackson: So that’s it?

Jessica: I don’t know. Maybe.

Jackson: So just, “Merry Christmas. Get off my train”?

Jessica: Not just “get off my train.” I’m saying go home. I’m saying stop punishing her for what he did. Stop punishing him. It’s Christmas, Jack.

A beat.

Jackson: You didn’t even get me a gift, did you?

Jessica: I got you the ticket, Jack.

Jessica takes the strewn socks off her bag and holds them out to Jackson.

Jessica: (cont’d) Now… Merry Christmas.

Jackson: “…but get off my train?”

Jessica can’t quite look at him. But she nods gently. Jackson rises. He looks down on Jessica.

Jackson: I’m just going to get the return train back to Philly. You understand?

Jessica: I think he’d be sorry, Jack. If you’d let him.

Jackson eyes her, then hurriedly wrangles up his bags. He turns to Jessica.

Jackson: Tell your folks Merry Christmas.

Jackson hustles off the train, leaving Jessica with the socks dangling limply from her hands. She looks at them, then folds them and tucks them gently into her backpack. She sits for a moment.

The train doors clunk shut. And the train begins to move.

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