Scene: Two old friends, Harold and Frank, sit on a creaky porch, rocking chairs in rhythm. The cicadas are buzzing. Both are hard of hearing, but neither will admit it.
Harold: (leaning in) Frank, you remember the summer of ’62 when we went fishing down at Lake Benton?
Frank: (cupping his ear) What’s that? Went wishing for a baked ham?
Harold: (rolling his eyes) No, fishing at Lake Benton. We caught that big catfish.
Frank: (snapping his fingers) Ah, right! The cat. Scratched your leg something awful.
Harold: (sputtering) Not a cat! A catfish! In the lake!
Frank: (nodding, satisfied) Sure, sure. Mean old tabby. Always hung around the bakery.
Harold: (sighing) Anyway, that was the day you fell out of the boat.
Frank: (outraged) What? I never fell out of a coat! Fit me just fine!
Harold: The boat, Frank. You tipped the boat over!
Frank: (grinning proudly) Oh, yes, yes. That wool coat tipped me right over. Heavy as an ox in July.
Harold: (muttering) If you say so.
Frank: You still got those suspenders from that trip?
Harold: (perks up) Defenders? Oh, sure, I still believe in strong defense.
Frank: (shakes his head) Not defenders—suspenders! You hauled me out by ‘em. Nearly stretched to Kansas.
Harold: (snorts) And nearly pulled my back out too. You were kicking like a mule.
Frank: (offended) Mule? I never kissed a mule in my life!
Harold: (chuckling) Not kissing, kicking! You looked like you were swimming for the Olympics.
Frank: (relieved) Ah. Well. Good. Rumors get around in a small town.
Harold: Speaking of the town, you remember the county fair that year?
Frank: (nodding) Oh, yes, the one where you lost your hair.
Harold: (touching his bald head) My hair? I lost my hare—the rabbit race. Mine ran the wrong way.
Frank: (squints) Thought it looked fast. Shame it was made of fur.
Harold: (snorts) That’s not how races work, Frank.
Frank: What about the dance afterward? You asked Millie Thompson to waltz.
Harold: (confused) Waltz? I asked her to wash! Why would she wash me?
Frank: (grinning) She turned you down flat. Said you had two left feet.
Harold: No, no. She said I had two left boots! Mismatched shoes. Brand new, both for the left foot. Couldn’t hardly walk straight.
Frank: (laughing so hard he wheezes) And you tried to dance in ‘em! Looked like a turkey on stilts.
Harold: At least I tried. You were too scared to ask anyone.
Frank: (puffs his chest) Nonsense! I danced with Betty Lou.
Harold: (snorts) You danced with a barbecue?
Frank: Betty Lou, Harold! The preacher’s niece.
Harold: Ohhh. I thought you said brisket. Would’ve made more sense.
Frank: You remember our army days?
Harold: (smiling) Sure do. You were in the kitchen, peeling potatoes.
Frank: (confused) I was in the mission, stealing tomatoes?
Harold: (laughing) Well, that too probably.
Frank: (indignant) Hey now, I only borrowed them. They put ‘em back in the stew later.
Harold: (grinning) Yeah, after you ate half of ‘em raw.
Frank: You still go to church every Sunday?
Harold: (earnest) Oh yes, never missed a sermon. Pastor’s words keep me steady.
Frank: (nods) Same here. Those donuts in the foyer keep me ready.
Harold: (squints) Donuts? I said sermons!
Frank: (shrugs) Six of one, half dozen of the other.
Harold: You know, Frank, we remember things awfully different.
Frank: (smiling) Yep. That’s what keeps it interesting.
Harold: You ever wonder which of us has the story right?
Frank: (chuckles) Nope. I just assume it was better my way.
Harold: (laughing) Figures.
Frank: (leans back, sipping coffee) Harold, you and I may not hear so well anymore, but we still talk better than most folks do these days.
Harold: (nodding slowly) That’s the truth. Even if half of it’s wrong.
Epilogue: The Wives
(Inside the house, two women sit at the kitchen table drinking iced tea. They are listening to Harold and Frank through the open window as the old men keep rocking and swapping their muddled memories.)
Martha (Harold’s wife): (shaking her head) You hear those two out there? Harold’s got Frank falling out of boats again.
Evelyn (Frank’s wife): (rolling her eyes) Oh, I heard. If you ask Frank, he never even owned a boat. Said it was a heavy wool coat!
Martha: And the fair! Harold’s talking about losing rabbits. You and I both know he lost his paycheck at the ring toss.
Evelyn: (chuckling) And don’t get me started on Millie Thompson. Neither of them ever danced with her. She was too busy chasing the dentist’s boy.
Martha: (smiling wryly) Truth is, between the two of them, they couldn’t remember their own names without us.
Evelyn: (laughing) And yet, somehow, they think they’re the wise ones.
(The women clink their iced tea glasses, listening as Harold and Frank burst into laughter outside for no apparent reason.)
Martha: Let ‘em talk. Half of it’s wrong, but it keeps ‘em happy.
Evelyn: (nodding) And after fifty years, that’s what matters.
Let's Talk About It, Lewis! 