Episode transcript - “the figs of magdalene”
ADAM RAYMONDA: Forgive Me! Season 4, Episode 5: The Figs of Magdalene
[SFX: Fr. Ben sits in his hot, stuffy office with an air conditioner and a swivel fan running. The door opens, and someone approaches, but he doesn’t immediately acknowledge them. This is unlike him. And intentional.]
SHARON: (taking a seat) Hello, Father. Thank you for meeting me.
FR. BEN: (chilly) Yes… I was surprised to see your email when it came in.
SHARON: I know that you and my husband don’t always agree on the way things should be run around this community… and I know that he can be a real horse’s ass when he feels his opinions haven’t been heard on any given situation, but I also know you to be a gracious, and humble man. So I appreciate you looking past his prior indiscretions, and agreeing to give me counsel, despite my relationship with him.
FR. BEN: Sharon, I have an open door policy. No matter the circumstances… but you’ll forgive me if I’m a bit puzzled right now.
SHARON: Excuse me?
FR. BEN: While I do genuinely appreciate you for being open to acknowledging Brett’s shortcomings, it was you who was behind most of our recent communication, wasn’t it?
[SFX: Ben types in a few keystrokes, before putting on a judgemental affect.]
FR. BEN: Here it is, in our last email: “I question the “safety” of allowing a Church sponsored book club to read what amounts to little more than four hundred and fifty pages of blasphemous pornography?”
SHARON: (deep sigh) I didn’t write that.
FR. BEN: But, it came from your address.
SHARON: Oh, I’m sure it did. But I had nothing to do with it. Other than making the mistake of leaving my copy of The Figs of Magdalene on the coffee table.
FR. BEN: I don’t mean this as an insult here, but I’m surprised to hear that Brett would read the sports section of the newspaper, let alone an entire novel.
SHARON: Here’s the funny thing. He doesn’t. That’s why I didn’t think it’d be a problem if I left it out in the open. The chances of him actually picking it up and tearing his eyes away from the Buffalo Williams game long enough to even skim the dust jacket are usually slim to none. But then… There was that terrible storm last week that sent the old willow in our front yard on a collision course with the power lines on the street…
[SFX: There’s a thunderstorm roaring outside. That said, we mostly hear the sound of football on television. Brett reacts to the play, excitedly, but just before he knows whether or not it’s completed, a tree crashes into the powerline and cuts the power, setting him into silence.]
BRETT: Dammit!
SHARON: (from the other room) What happened?
BRETT: Power’s out!
SHARON: Yes, honey, I gathered that when the lights shut off.
BRETT: The Williams were just starting to get good!
[SFX: Sharon approaches the room, fumbling with a bag full of battery powered tea lights. The thunder continues to rage.]
SHARON: Well, I’m sure their luck hasn’t stopped just because ours did.
BRETT: (genuinely bummed) I didn’t wanna miss it.
SHARON: Seems like you’ve gotta. Any interest in helping me scrounge up some breakfast for dinner?
BRETT: Not particularly…
SHARON: Of course not. Could you at least help me put some of these out so Andrew doesn’t trip up the stairs when he gets home?
BRETT: (taking the bag) Sure thing... but then what am I supposed to do with myself?
SHARON: That’s on you, my friend. Sounds like you’re gonna have to use your imagination.
BRETT: (intrigued) I can imagine something fun to do…
SHARON: (flirty, but dismissive) Not that kind of imagination! Why don’t you read something? We’ve got a million books around here! You should never be bored in this house.
BRETT: I’m sorry, but did you really just suggest I read? For fun? You and I live on different planets, if that’s your idea of fun, my dear.
[SFX: Sharon laughs as she leaves the room. Brett clicks on a tea light and notices her stray copy of The Figs of Magdalene. He absentmindedly picks it up and opens to the first page.]
SHARON: Before I knew it, he’d gotten through the first three chapters in the time it took me to make pancakes.
FR. BEN: I can’t imagine that went over particularly well.
SHARON: Let’s just say that was an… awkward dinner and leave it at that.
FR. BEN: It’s actually a beautiful book.
SHARON: I know it is… that’s why I suggested it to the ladies for us to read this month.
FR. BEN: (genuinely shocked) Oh? I’m surprised.
SHARON: And why’s that?
FR. BEN: I mean… I know you and I haven’t spent a lot of time together since I took over as head pastor from Fr. Klem, but I’d kind of assumed you and your husband would have… similar feelings about the subject matter.
SHARON: Hah! No. You assumed incorrectly. But you know what they say about people who assume.
FR. BEN: That I do. That I do.
SHARON: Father, I’m a woman in my mid forties with two kids, one grown and out of the house, and the other counting down the days until he is. The Figs of Magdalene was practically made for me. A steamy portrait of Christ’s life, told through the eyes of his confidant and lover? A mix of truly beautiful prose, deeply researched Biblical lore, and… excuse my language… but several deeply erotic scenes involving Jesus and more than one of his apostles?
FR. BEN: I do understand the target market, yes, but with the very clearly stated views of our local A of A chapter, and Brett’s prominent placement among said chapter, I had figured you and the other Sea Maidens of Maria would… rise above this kind of thing.
SHARON: Hah! That’s rich. You really think we had anything to do with all of that?
FR. BEN: I mean, yes. I do. Your two chapters seem to be quite interlinked.
SHARON: Sure, I mean, we help out with some of the catering for their events. And we all use Clive and Rose’s print shop whenever we need to make marketing materials to pass around the community, but beyond that? We’re our own completely separate thing.
FR. BEN: And what kind of thing is that?
SHARON: The men have their clubhouse… and we have ours.
FR. BEN: Oh? I wasn’t aware that you had your own building.
SHARON: As if. The council would never approve of that kind of use of Church funding, but we make do. Our clubhouse is mobile. It happens wherever we are. Together, and out of earshot from our fool husbands. Where we can enjoy a good glass of Chardonnay and talk about that month’s book. Or not talk about it. Depending on how good everybody’s gossip is that week.
FR. BEN: Ahh. I see what you’re saying.
SHARON: The Sea Maidens of Maria? Yes. We’re a women’s club. And some of us might have some more… traditional views. But at the end of the day? We’re just a bunch of tired moms. Who are sick of having to hold down full time jobs and still do all the work around the house. Who all need to be able to disappear into a good story every once in a while. Especially one as romantic as this one.
FR. BEN: I take it this isn’t the first book of its kind to come across your shelf?
SHARON: Of course not! We devoured 50 Hues of Blue.
FR. BEN: What’d Brett think of that one?
SHARON: (laughs) I told him it was an Art History book. That was my major. In college.
FR. BEN: He’s really out of touch with pop culture, isn’t he?
SHARON: That’s one way of putting it.
FR. BEN: What’d he say when it came out in theaters?
SHARON: I told him it was a documentary. He didn’t really understand why I was so excited about it, or why I’d worn a pair of leather pants to go see it… but he didn’t really question it either.
FR. BEN: (slightly to moderately uncomfortable) You didn’t want to… indulge in the fantasy with him?
SHARON: (scandalized) Father Ben!
FR. BEN: Hey, I’m not here to judge. I’ve run many marriage counseling sessions in my day. While I may not have the experience myself, I do understand that sometimes a partnership of such longevity takes… work, to keep healthy. And happy.
SHARON: (laughing earnestly, knowing how uncomfortable Ben is) Don’t get me wrong, there’s a part of me that wishes Brett was into that sort of thing. But as you’ve probably surmised by the events that lead up to my visit, even the lightest of kinks doesn’t quite align with his values.
FR. BEN: Is that not a problem for you?
SHARON: (sighing) My husband is… a complicated man. He’s brash and he’s judgemental and he’s the furthest thing from charitable than I’ve just about ever met. But he’s also kind. And patient. And the most involved father in our entire town.
FR. BEN: I’m glad to hear that.
SHARON: I am too. It reminds me of why I fell in love with him in the first place. Before he spent all that time with that dick, Roger, and got his head so far up his ass about men and women and their place in the world.
FR. BEN: You’re telling me that he wasn’t always this way?
SHARON: Would you believe me if I told you that his favorite bands of all time were David Bowie and Queen?
FR. BEN: You’ve gotta be kidding me.
SHARON: Dead serious! I have pictures of him from our first Halloween together. He was in spandex and had the Ziggy Stardust makeup. It looked awful with his complexion, but he lit up when I painted it on.
FR. BEN: I’m sorry, this cannot be the same Brett Servidone that I know.
SHARON: It is! And honestly, it still is. He just doesn’t know how to reckon with those two sides of himself.
FR. BEN: It seems to me that, even if that may be the case, that side of him has gotten a whole lot smaller in the intervening years. One might say he’s done his best to lock that side up in a deep, dark cupboard in the recesses of his mind, and then threw out the key with the baby and the bathwater.
SHARON: Now, Father Ben, don’t you think you’re being a little uncharitable right now? How much time have you really spent with my Brett? How could you really have a genuine read on what access he still has with his inner child?
FR. BEN: (serious) There are… things that I know about your husband that might change your opinion of him. And while it certainly isn’t my job to judge the man, just to sit and serve as a conduit as a person unburdens themselves to the Lord… I’m still entitled to the opinions I have.
SHARON: (knowing) Oh. You’re talking about the fire.
FR. BEN: Excuse me?
SHARON: I take it he told you all about his little plan?
[MIDROLL AD-BREAK]
[SFX: Fr. Ben stands silently, crossing the room to shut the door. He returns to his desk and sits back down.]
FR. BEN: (hushed) You knew?
SHARON: Not at first, no. I really didn’t. I went to that ridiculous vigil, and I watched him and Roger accost those private detectives with their list of suspects. They seemed hell-bent on finding the culprit, and as silly as I thought the whole thing was, I fell for the smokescreen along with the rest of the town.
FR. BEN: What gave it all away?
SHARON: Brett… he’s not the most careful man when it comes to data security. He’d done a lot of Boogling about arson laws, had a highlighted copy of the A of A’s insurance policy, and a document on his home office computer outlining the whole damn thing labeled “Fantasy Football Draft Notes 2021.” I found it by accident a few months ago when I was using his machine to pay our electric bill.
FR. BEN: And realizing that, not only is your husband a violent criminal, but that he was going to get away with it too… that didn’t raise any red flags for you?
SHARON: I mean, what could I have done about it? By the time I came across it the case was already closed. The rubble was cleared, and the A of A had hired an architect to draw up plans for the new building.
FR. BEN: You’re really not seeing the problem with his actions?
SHARON: No, Father, I’m not. It was ultimately a victimless crime.
FR. BEN: (taken aback, defensive) I’ve spoken with several parishioners affected by the A of A’s investigation who feel quite differently.
SHARON: I mean, so some folks’ names were dragged through the mud. What else is new? Forgive me, father, but you haven't lived in this town as long as I have. Men like Roger and my husband? They’re a petty little nuisance. I will give you that. And the way they treat anyone who disagrees with them is abhorrent. Don’t think I’ve ever been a supporter of all that literature they’ve passed out over the years, that put the Walters family through hell. But if they hadn’t done it? Somebody else would’ve. Their opinions aren’t exactly uncommon around here.
FR. BEN: So you’re saying, the fact that these kinds of loud, interpersonal judgements are inevitable in a hamlet as tight knit as this one, the type of person who’d lobby those judgements should be free from reproach? I’m sorry, I just don’t see your logic here.
SHARON: Texarkana… it’s a friendly place, in a lot of ways. These people would give you the shirt off their backs, if they thought you were cold. But it’s an unfriendly one, too. Because people talk. They always talk, especially if you’ve done something they disagree with. And that’s been true since long before this chapter of the A of A took shape, and it’ll be true long after they’re gone too. At the end of the day, no one was physically hurt by Brett’s actions. Roger’s suspects were fine, because none of them were even remotely guilty, so they never really had anything to worry about from that little witch hunt. And the boys got their second bowling lane, an imperfection I’ve had to listen to him complain about for the last ten years. As far as I can see, this is a win-win situation.
FR. BEN: Have you ever heard of the phrase, if you give a man an inch, he’ll want to take a mile?
SHARON: I have.
FR. BEN: And you don’t see the parallels here?
SHARON: Sure I do. But I haven’t got any better ideas for how to placate these men, do you?
FR. BEN: I mean—
SHARON: We’ve all moved past the fire, Father Ben. And the town? It’s stronger for it. It gave our people a unifying cause they could believe in. Roger wasted his money on a useless investigation, Sue Tubbles got her paycheck, and the facilities got a little bit prettier in the process. The gossip that came out of that time last year? It’s faded away from memory, replaced by the most recent teen pregnancies and DUI arrests. Let it go like the rest of us.
FR. BEN: It seems to me like you have no problem with your husband’s displays of power in this town, just so long as they don’t personally affect you.
SHARON: Excuse me?
FR. BEN: Have you forgotten why you came here today?
SHARON: Well, no, but—
FR. BEN: This town has a mighty easy time reminding me that I’m a newcomer. That I just don’t understand how things work around here. That I’d be better off deferring to the strong, traditional men that have led this flock since long before I ever entered the picture. But if you ask me, people around here are a whole lot more fed up with those men than they’re ready to let on in public. Obviously, their own wives included, if you needed to come here today, to speak on the behalf of you Sea-Maidens, so that I can override the will of the very same Seamen you so eloquently defended. Tell me, Sharon, if you really think that Brett and Roger are as small and ineffectual as you so obviously believe, why aren’t you willing to stick up to them yourself?
SHARON: Maintaining a strong and healthy relationship is like tending to a delicate ecosystem. Left alone, it will likely develop the tools it needs to safeguard itself against outside threats, but acted upon directly, and the whole thing can fall apart.
FR. BEN: Sounds to me like you’ve got a bit more in common with your husband than you’d like to admit.
SHARON: Now that’s really not fair.
FR. BEN: Men like Brett, Roger, and their cronies? They have power because we choose to give it to them. Because we decide that it’s easier to shut them up than it is to stand up and treat them like the adults that they actually are, rather than like babies to be coddled. I understand what you think you’re doing, giving into the illusion he feels is necessary, to embody the traditional family values you collectively believe in. But, come on, it’s 2024, and you’re a grown woman. You don’t need his permission to read some softcore literary porn. You don’t need his permission to do anything.
SHARON: I’m well aware of that, Father. But it’d still mean a lot, if you spoke out on our behalf.
FR. BEN: Of course I’m going to speak out on your behalf. Not because I think that you all need me to. Or that you should be working so hard to avoid this kind of disagreement with your husband. But because I have no interest in censorship on a fundamental level, and if I’m not going to stop the A of A from handing out their little pamphlets, then I’m certainly not going to stop you all from reading what is genuinely a fantastic book.
SHARON: (relieved) Thank you.
FR. BEN: You’re welcome.
[SFX: Sharon gathers herself and stands to leave.]
FR. BEN: You know, if you’re really looking for my counsel, I do have some feelings about the conversations you might want to consider having with Brett.
SHARON: Oh?
FR. BEN: (More firmly) Namely, that it’s time for a trial separation, at the very least. If not a divorce. It isn’t safe to allow a man with his loose definition of morals and physically dangerous habits to be around impressionable children such as your son.
SHARON: That isn’t an option for me. And the fact that you’d even suggest it isn’t very priestly of you.
FR. BEN: It’s an option for anyone who wants one.
SHARON: Yes, I do understand that…
FR. BEN: And it’s priestly in the way that I want to be priestly. It’s an honest assessment of your situation. Your son already has a predilection for fire himself. Do you really want him around the kind of man that would encourage him that it’s okay to commit arson, so long as no one is around to get hurt? To live free of consequences?
SHARON: I appreciate what you think you’re doing here, but this is out of line, and I think that you know it. My son is a good kid. Of course he’s got a thing for fire, he’s 16 years old. Were you never 16? Did you never want to steal your father’s M-80s?
FR. BEN: (exasperated) My father wasn’t around for me to steal M-80s from. He died when I was just a kid.
SHARON: I’m so sorry—
FR. BEN: But that’s besides the point. I’m sorry, Sharon. I didn’t mean to question your parenting skills. It’s just… it looks to me like you could be a happier person, if you just took a hard look at the life you have, and the things you believe, and reconciled with the fact that those things don’t entirely match up at this point in time.
SHARON: That’s the thing though, Father Ben. This is about what I believe. And that is that marriage is a sacred union that isn’t to be taken lightly. And that’s a decision for me to make. My husband doesn’t raise his hands against me. Or my children. He provides a stable income, and he also provides a lot of joy for those he surrounds himself with. We may not agree on some of the more… modern things that go on around this town, but at the end of the day, he can’t really do anything about them. The world is changing, and he may not be ready to change with it, but that doesn’t mean I have to abandon him for it. I won’t.
FR. BEN: (More disbelieving) I just… I can’t comprehend what you see in him. He’s a brash, cruel man. Don’t think I haven’t seen the way he interacted with the guys working on the new building. The things he said to them? Truly awful.
SHARON: (sighs) I know. I know that he can be uncharitable with his words. And hot tempered, but you don’t know him like I do. Don’t know the kindness deep down in his bones. Like, just last summer, after I got home from work, I saw him out across the street, sweating to high heaven mowing Bud Walker’s lawn…
[SFX: Sharon’s car approaches and parks. When she gets out, we hear the sound of Brett pushing the lawn mower.]
SHARON: Brett!
[SFX: Brett doesn’t hear her through his oversized muffling headphones, and continues pushing.]
SHARON: Brett! Why on earth are you doing that right now?
BRETT: (finally seeing her, turning it off, cheery) Hey honey!
SHARON: It’s 95 degrees outside! You’re gonna have a heat stroke.
BRETT: Aw, it’s not so bad.
SHARON: But why are you mowing Bud’s lawn?
BRETT: I ran into him the other day and he broke his foot on the line. Poor bastard’s all laid up inside. And you know the HOA’s got their annual Garden Contest coming up. Didn’t want him to lose his chances. He’s done some mighty fine work out here this year.
SHARON: (chuckling) You big softy! Just don’t take too long okay, and make sure you keep hydrated.
BRETT: Don’t worry, I’ve got a fresh cold one in the freezer for when I finish up! It’s beer slushie time.
[SFX: Sharon plants a kiss on his cheek before crossing the street back to her house. Brett starts up the mower again, before we end up back in the confessional.]
FR. BEN: I understand, Sharon.
SHARON: Do you, Father? Because I’m not sure you do. Brett and Bud hate each other. They’re like mortal fricken’ enemies, and my husband? The dolt, he got sun poisoning because of how much time he spent fixing up that front yard! I don’t care what the man says. I care what he does. And what he does for others is good enough for me.
FR. BEN: I hear you, loud and clear.
SHARON: Good. And please, remember, when you respond to the email my husband sent from my address? You don’t mention the fact that you and I spoke today. Things will be easier for me that way.
FR. BEN: Whatever you think is best.
[SFX: At that, Sharon leaves. Ben is left to his own devices for a moment, and eventually, he begins clacking away at his keyboard.]
FR. BEN: Dear Mrs. Servidone,
While I genuinely do appreciate your concern about the content of this month's choice for the Sea Maidens of Maria’s book club, I will have to reject your request to ban the selection from being discussed on Church grounds. I invite you to instead give the material a chance on its merits, and encourage you to attend this month’s meeting in order to better understand why it was selected in the first place. The Figs of Magdalene is a beautiful novel, and is marketed as such. I don’t see the danger in its discussion, because I don’t believe that the author or the publishing house in any way intend to pass off this work as anything more than it is: a chance to explore the complexity of modern history through a heavily fictionalized biblical lens.
All the best,
Father Ben