Submitted for the SLO Nightwriters writing contest. Instructions: Write a maximum of 2 pages of dialogue that follows a story arc — beginning, middle, and end. Minimal non-dialogue content—no more than stage directions.
Harry [whispering]: Hey Barry, you awake?
Barry: Never closed my eyes.
Harry: Ha ha, I sleep with my eyes open too.
Barry: That’s not what I meant.
Harry: …
Barry: What’s on your mind Harry?
Harry: The boy.
Barry: Always the boy.
Harry: I know. I think about him every night. Just look at him. Look at him sleep. He’s so peaceful. Have you ever seen anything so perfect in your life?
Barry: Never.
Harry: I’m worried, Barry.
Barry: Worried?
Harry: I’m worried he’s changing too fast.
Barry: What do you mean?
Harry: I mean he’s perfect right now, right? So really any change is too much. Too fast. Too much, too fast.
Barry: Remember when he slept in the crib? Before the bed?
Harry: Oh yeah. I remember. He was so little then. They’d dress him up in those footie pajamas with the spaceships on them. Or that onesie with the owls. They were always so scared something might happen. Nothing else could be in the crib. They’d even put us up on the shelf at night. Then they’d lay on the floor and push their arms through the bars of his crib and feel his warmth. They’d fall asleep there to the steady rise and fall of his little chest with his little inhales and exhales.
Barry: He was perfect then. He’s perfect now. He can change and still be perfect.
Harry: But I don’t want change. Change is like how he used to hug me every night before falling asleep. Then one night: no hug.
Barry: He hugged you tonight.
Harry: I mean, sure. He hugged me tonight. But it wasn’t a tight, tight hug. It wasn’t a—it wasn’t a—
Barry: A bear hug?
Harry: Yeah. That’s right. It wasn’t a bear hug. He used to wrap his arms around me at night and then squeeze with every muscle in his body. He used to sing while he’d rock me back and forth. He used to tuck me into his shirt before going to bed to “keep me warmed up through the night.”
Barry: That was nice. He’s a caring boy. I’m glad he’s caring. Maybe we’ve made him more caring. He wasn’t always like that. Remember when he used to carry you around by your ears?
Harry: Oh, don’t remind me! Back when he started crawling—if my ears weren’t in his mouth, they were clamped into his fist!
Barry: He dragged you across the floor so much your rump was going bald.
Harry: I’m glad that was just a phase! Can you imagine if he never stopped? Today I’d be Harry the Hairless Hare…It would be a whole Fuzzy Wuzzy situation.
Barry: Hey now—there’s nothing wrong with going bare.
Harry: Easy for you to say!
Barry: I’m just saying, change is inevitable.
Harry: But what will happen in the future?
Barry: The boy will grow. It won’t always be perfect. But we’ll fill the boy up with care, and it will pour out of him as he grows up. Love will fill the cracks.
Harry: You know, last night I heard them talking. They said, “A child grows up in the blink of an eye.”
Barry: Maybe that’s why us stuffed animals never close our eyes.
Harry: Hmm. Maybe so.
Barry: Goodnight Hare.
Harry: Goodnight Bear.
Boy [murmuring in his sleep]: Good night room. Good night moon.
