Storm in Paradise

The story begins in a house in southern Indiana.  As the play progresses it moves to a drive-in movie, the State fair, and a state park in southern Indiana.  In that house in southern Indiana Jim is morning the death of his wife.  Since she has gone, the house is in a clutter, and Jim is trying to go on with his life. The minutes seem like hours as a hard rain falls on the roof.  With every minute it gets darker and darker outside, but this does make any difference to Jim.  He is on the brink of emotional disarray, but he knows he must move on.

The radio is playing at a low volume, yet Jim does not notice it.  He leans back in his chair and watches the puddles gather.  But with the ring of the telephone his reverie is broken.  He leans over and answers the phone.

Jim: Hello.

Mary: May I speak with Jim Colder.

Jim: This is Jim Colder.

Mary:  Mr. Colder this is… this is very hard for me to do.  But since mom died I had to call.

Jim: I am sorry.

Mary: Mr. Colder, I believe I am… I am your daughter.

(It was quiet for a minute as Jim gathered his thoughts)

Jim: This is a little overwhelming.

Mary: Mom spoke of that summer in Indiana frequently. 

Jim: Who is your mother?

Mary: Tesa Storm.

Jim: Tesa Storm?  Wow, I have not heard that name in thirty years.                    

Mary: I would really like to meet with you.         

Jim: Yes, I would like that.

Mary: Mom said you were a gentleman.

Jim: Thank you.

Mary: I will make plans to see you as soon as possible.

Jim: I look forward to it.

Jim put the phone down and leaned back in his chair.  He could hardly believe the conversation he just had.  With the passing of his wife he thought his life was over, but this woman had brought back a warm feeling.  The rain continued, and Jim found himself lost in reverie.  He remembered that summer.

The story moves to a drive in movie theatre, thirty years in the past.  The sun has just set, and the movie is about to begin.  As usual Jim is not interested in the movie, he is more interested in his poetry.