Restoration

SCRIPT SUMMARY

Script Title

Restoration

Authorship

Copyright 2002 by Nina Wallestad. All rights reserved.

Characters

Olivia Farrell, a furniture restorer who is full of Godly wisdom, and Annie Gardner, a client who is searching for her true self.

Costumes

Olivia in work clothes throughout – jeans, faded chambray or flannel shirt over a white T-shirt, a paint-stained apron, etc. In scene one, Annie is in dressy casual clothing – perhaps a coordinated jacket and pants with a blouse underneath -- outwardly very pulled together. In the second scene, Annie wears an old, faded pair of overalls. The sleeves of her blouse are rolled up.

Props

Scrapbook, work gloves, cans of paint thinner and stripper, sandpaper, scrapers, paint brushes, old boxes and wooden crates, at least one crate that is sturdy enough to be sat upon, a stool, a blanket and an old wooden hope chest that looks like it needs restoring. If an old chest cannot be found, choose any box of similar size and keep it draped with the old blanket.

Setting

Olivia’s workshop

Summary

Olivia helps Annie see her need for Christ by drawing an analogy between furniture restoration and spiritual renewal.

Production Note

This script was originally written for a women's evangelistic brunch. The two dramas were used as transitional elements before the main speaker. However, the script could be performed as one longer drama with a few dialog and direction substitutions, which appear [inside of brackets].

SCENE ONE

OLIVIA enters, leading ANNIE through her workshop. There are boxes and crates everywhere, with cans of stripper and paint thinner perched on them. To one side is an old hope chest, covered with a blanket. ANNIE gazes around in wonder, carrying a scrapbook under her arm. From time to time, she picks up an object and examines it.

ANNIE: Oh, this is so exciting! I’ve admired your work for so long, and now I’m here in your workshop! (pause, a bit overwhelmed) Mrs. Farrell, I’m so honored that you’ll be restoring my great-grandmother’s hope chest.

OLIVIA: The honor is all mine, my dear. And, please, call me Olivia.

ANNIE: Thank you, Olivia. You can call me Annie. All my friends do, and I am so hopeful that we’ll become friends! (pausing, looking around again) This is so great! I feel like I’m on HGTV! (to OLIVIA, conspiratorially) I’m absolutely addicted to that channel. Did you see last night’s episode of Designing for the Sexes?

OLIVIA: I’m sorry. I don’t get cable TV.

ANNIE: Really? My best friend lives right down the street, and she says before she got cable her reception was lousy. You really should check into it.

OLIVIA: No, no. You misunderstood me. I do have cable TV. I just don’t get cable TV. I can’t see wasting good time watching other people do chores around the house, when my own house needs so much work!

ANNIE: It’s silly, I know, but I get such a sense of accomplishment and … satisfaction watching other people work.

OLIVIA: (under her breath, sarcastically) How nice.

ANNIE doesn’t hear Olivia’s remark, because she has spied the old hope chest. She peaks under the blanket, then removes it to reveal the chest underneath.

ANNIE: Oh, good! Here it is. I hope my husband was careful with it when he dropped it off. (pause) So, Mrs. Far --- I mean, Olivia – is there any hope left for this old chest?

OLIVIA: Absolutely! (pointing to a corner of the chest) Just look at the workmanship here. Those are dovetail joints. You don’t see those much these days. No, this piece was made by a fine craftsman.

ANNIE: (proudly) My great-grandfather, Josiah Butterfield.

ANNIE brings the scrapbook out from under her arm and begins flipping through the pages, then points. OLIVIA peers over her shoulder.

ANNIE: That’s him, right there. He was known all around the county for his carpentry, but he only made one hope chest, for my grandmother, as an engagement present.

OLIVIA: Then it’s all the more valuable.

ANNIE: (flipping a page or two, then pointing) Here they are on their wedding day. (pointing to another photo) And, here’s a picture of the chest as it was back then. (looking back and forth from the photograph to the actual chest) I’m afraid you’ve got your work cut out for you!

OLIVIA: I assure you, Annie, I will do my very best to restore it to its original condition.

ANNIE: Thank you, Olivia. I know it’s in good hands.

ANNIE stares at OLIVIA, as if expecting her to get to right to work. After an uncomfortable pause, OLIVIA takes ANNIE by the arm and begins to lead her to the door (the direction from which they entered).

OLIVIA: Well now, Annie, I’ll give you a call when I’m done – probably in a week or two…

ANNIE: (obviously disappointed) Oh, well, sure, Olivia. That would be fine. (pause) Olivia, I don’t suppose you’d be willing to let me watch, would you?

OLIVIA: I don’t know. I’m not used to having folks breathing down my neck while I work.

ANNIE: Oh, please! It would mean so much to me!

OLIVIA: It’s a long and tedious process. I’m not like those folks on HGTV. I won’t be finished in half an hour.

ANNIE: Of course not! I promise you, I’ll be quiet as a mouse. You won’t even know I’m here!

OLIVIA: (gives in with a sigh) Oh, all right. But you better change out of those fancy clothes. (pause) Come with me, I’ve got something I think will fit you.

They exit.

[Alternate dialog for doing the script in one scene: Change Olivia's line, above, to:

OLIVIA: (gives in with a sigh) Oh, all right. But you better protect those fancy clothes. (pauses, then hands her a woodworker's apron) Here. Put this on.

Then continue with Olivia's first line from scene two.]

SCENE TWO

The set is as we left it. OLIVIA and ANNIE enter, ANNIE now dressed in overalls. OLIVIA motions toward the stool.

OLIVIA: Well, have a seat on my stool. It’s the best – and only – seat in the house!

ANNIE: Oh, no. I couldn’t. (looks around, then spies a sturdy crate and sits on it) I’ll be just fine right here. (pause) So, what do we do first?

OLIVIA: We? I was afraid it would come to that!

ANNIE: Oh! I’m sorry. I promised I’d be quiet. Never mind me.

OLIVIA puts on heavy work gloves and begins collecting the tools of her trade – sandpaper, paint brushes, cans of paint thinner, etc. – in a box. She hums a bit to herself. ANNIE squirms a bit impatiently.

ANNIE: (unable to stay quiet any longer) You know, Olivia, you have an excellent reputation in this town. All the antique dealers recommended you. They say you listen to the wood.

OLIVIA: Sounds to me like they’re after a commission!

ANNIE: No, really. I’ve seen your work, and it is truly remarkable. What’s your secret?

OLIVIA: (matter-of-factly) Antiques are like people. They’ve each got a story to tell, if you’re willing to listen.

ANNIE: So, you do listen to the wood! What’s my old hope chest telling you?

OLIVIA: Well, she’s seen better days, but she’s proud of every knick and scrape.

OLIVIA begins sanding the chest with a piece of sandpaper.

ANNIE: (standing, horrified) Stop! What are you doing? You’re scratching it!

OLIVIA: (heavy sigh) Look, Annie. The restoration process can be a bit painful to watch. Sometimes you need to rough up the surface so it’s ready for the next step.

ANNIE: Are you sure?

OLIVIA: (pauses, then crosses to ANNIE and grabs her by the hands) Don’t worry. You and your hope chest will be just fine – as good as new. Maybe even better.

ANNIE: (turning away, laughing self-consciously) Me? What’s this got to do with me?

OLIVIA: Come on. Be honest. You’re really attached to this old chest. It’s more than just a piece of furniture to you. It’s a symbol of something deeper, am I right?

ANNIE: Well, now that you mention it…. (pauses, reconsiders) Look, you’re busy, and I’m interrupting. Maybe I’d better go.

ANNIE turns to leave, but OLIVIA catches her by the shoulder and leads her back to the crate. ANNIE sits back down, reluctantly.

OLIVIA: No. Go ahead. I’m listening.

ANNIE: It’s just that I look at this old chest, and I see myself -- my life. (pause) Oh, never mind. It’s hard to explain.

OLIVIA: Let me try. (pauses, thinking) Like the chest, your life started out great. A real work of art. But, as the years went by, people didn’t treat you as carefully as they should have. You got scraped and scratched, and sometimes even dropped and dented. With every injury, you slapped on another coat of varnish to cover up, and now you hardly recognize yourself.

OLIVIA’s words hit their mark, and ANNIE is astonished. She has no response, other than to cover her mouth with her hand.

OLIVIA: I thought so.

ANNIE: But, how did you know?

OLIVIA: Well, let’s just say that you and I have more in common that just this old hope chest.

ANNIE: But, Olivia, you’re one of the most (pauses, searching for the right word) unvarnished women I’ve ever met. How can you say that we’re alike?

OLIVIA: Like I say, people are like antiques. Eventually, we all need restoration.

ANNIE: (picking up a piece of sandpaper) Restoration. (a slight laugh) I don’t suppose you know anyone who restores broken spirits, do you?

OLIVIA: As a matter of fact, I do.

ANNIE searches OLIVIA’s face to see if she’s joking.

OLIVIA: There’s only one person I know of who’s up to the task of soul restoration, and that’s Jesus Christ.

ANNIE: (laughs uncomfortably) Jesus?

OLIVIA: (pauses, then crosses to ANNIE). I don’t know about you, but I could really use a cup of coffee. Join me in the kitchen? (she begins exiting)

ANNIE: (following) Uh, sure. (pause) So, you think Jesus can restore my life to its original, pristine condition?

OLIVIA: Well, sure. He was a carpenter after all.