An Award-Winning One-Act Play

Waiting for John

A man waits for his son to come home. His wife, alone on the other side of the stage, knows that his son is never coming home. They never speak to each other. They never stop speaking to each other.

The Play

Fred sits on one side of the stage, whittling a stick, waiting for his son John to walk up from the train station. He has John’s trunk of childhood things ready. He has tea prepared. He is certain John is coming home today.

Edith sits on the other side, in a rocking chair. She knows that John is dead. She knows that Fred, her husband, has lost his mind to grief and has been committed to an institution. She knows that she was the one who had to make that decision. She cannot forgive herself for it.

The two characters never acknowledge each other. They occupy the same stage but not the same world. And yet their dialogue interweaves, memory answering memory, sentence finishing sentence, as though the conversation they can no longer have is still happening somewhere between them.

Waiting for John is a one-act play about grief, memory, and the distance between two people who love each other and can no longer reach each other. It is also, in its quietest moments, about a telescope, a wooden train, a photograph at the beach, and one last dance.

Fred Father of John, husband to Edith
Edith John’s mother, Fred’s wife
Nurse Fred’s nurse. Male or female, any appropriate age

What This Play Is About

Two people on either side of a stage. One loss. Two completely different versions of the same story.

Grief Memory Loss Marriage Parenthood Dementia Guilt Love Denial Letting Go

Extracts

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Opening

Fred sits quietly, whittling. He puts the stick and the knife on the table and rises slowly. Moves forward and peers out over the audience. He is looking for something. Waiting for someone.

Fred: My son! My son John comes home today! At last, he is on his way! I will wait here for him, he will be expecting me to be here.

He’ll come by train most likely. Not by car. No, he hates cars. Yes, train, and then he’ll walk up from the station. He’s a big, strong lad, is John. He’ll walk up with his suitcase, right up the road, strong as you like.

It’s early yet. Not even eight. I’ll have time for tea, maybe breakfast. And Edith will be wanting her coffee. She loves her coffee in the morning.

The lights come up slowly on Edith, rocking gently in her chair.

Edith: It’s early yet. Fred will be making coffee. A good man, Fred. Always made me coffee, first thing every day. Coffee, and a cup of tea for him. A good man, always treated me well. And John. He loved that boy.

The Wooden Train

Fred: (Opens the trunk, pulls out a wooden train.) He broke this, Ronald did. Bloody broke it in two! On purpose, mind you, not by accident. Deliberate like. I fixed it, of course. Gave it a new coat of paint, too.

Edith: I remember when he broke John’s train. On purpose. Just broke it. My Fred threw a fit I can tell you! (She laughs.) Ha! Almost burst a blood vessel. Calmed down though. John told him. John said “It’s OK Dad, we can fix that”. He was like that, you know, always the peace-maker.

Fred: I nearly burst a vessel, I was so cross. Still, John said I must calm down, it would be OK. He is like that you know. A good boy, my John.

The Revelation

Edith: But you didn’t hear them. They told us. About John. John is dead, they said. You wouldn’t listen!

Fred: (Waves.) You be careful out there now, you hear?

Edith: (As if talking to the officers.) John? Dead? No. No! (Starts sobbing, falls to her knees.) Please, no, no, not John! Oh, God, John!

Fred: (A long pause.) We watched the stars. The night before you went away. Remember that? The stars?

Edith: And you never listened, Fred. You didn’t listen to them. Damn you! “He’s coming back later, Edith! He said so! Later.” It’s been two years Fred! Two bloody years of you waiting. I can’t do it any more, Fred, that’s an end of it.

Fred: Ah, yes. The bear. And over there! The three sisters! Orion’s belt, right there! Look!

The Ending

Fred: (Takes out the telescope.) This one. This was his favourite. We used to lie outside, John and me, and look at the stars. I taught him the constellations. All of them. He knew them all by the time he was ten.

Nurse: Did he?

Fred: Oh yes. Bright boy. I’d point, and he’d name them. Orion. The Bear. The Southern Cross. He never got one wrong. (Holds the telescope out.) Here. Have a look.

Nurse: (Takes it. Looks through it toward the window.) It’s a good one, this.

Fred: I bought it for his birthday. He was ... eight? Nine? Couldn’t put it down. Sat outside till gone midnight. Edith had to carry him in.

Nurse: He was lucky, Fred. Having a dad like you.

Performance Rights

Waiting for John is published by Off The Wall Plays and is available for performance by theatre companies, drama groups, and competition entrants. The nurse character can be written out for a two-hander if preferred.

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For other enquiries about this play, contact:

spencer@spencerrowley.com

About the Author

Spencer Rowley

Spencer Rowley was born in Rhodesia in 1958 and spent thirty-three years living and working in South Africa. He has been, at various points, a soldier, a policeman, a husband and a father, an IT consultant, an artist, and a musician.

His other works include Sawubona, a novel set in Johannesburg, and Franki, a novel forthcoming in 2026. He currently lives in Nottingham, England.

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For enquiries:

spencer@spencerrowley.com

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