Untitled Play

[MalReynolds]

Only the first scene, so far. Plan on making it 3 acts. We'll see how far I actually get.

-

(A park – Daytime. There’s a man sitting in front of a chess table. He very slowly and cautiously gets out a Monopoly board and sets the pieces up. He removes two of the player pieces – a car and a gun – and places them on the board. He counts out two stacks of money, and sets them aside. He removes the Chance! Cards, and sets them on the board. Finally, he removes two dice, and sets them aside. When he finishes this, he stands, and removes his coat. He is wearing a blue button-up shirt, tucked in to khakis. Next to the bench is a briefcase, unopened. After he folds his jacket, he sits back down.)

(There’s about thirty seconds before a man enters, SL, with a woman. They walk, oblivious to the man, until he knocks his briefcase over and it makes a thudding sound. This other man should be in a red shirt, tucked in to his khakis. He is THOMAS CAMPBELL. The man in the blue shirt is HAROLD CAINE. The woman is GINA CAMPBELL – she should be wearing a red blouse with a blue scarf.)

GINA: Harold? Is that you?

HAROLD: Yes, yes it is. (He stands.)

(She crosses, and stares at him)

GINA: What are you doing here?

HAROLD: I’m actually supposed to be playing Monopoly with someone, but they haven’t shown up yet. I see Thomas lurking back there! Thomas, m’boy! Still hiding behind a woman?

(THOMAS laughs and comes forward)

THOMAS: Ah, Harold. It’s been a while, hasn’t it?

HAROLD: Almost three years, by my count. But who really has been counting?

THOMAS: Too true. Do you play out here in the park often? Monopoly – not exactly the game of intense strategy. I remember you used to be a God at Chess.

HAROLD: Well, the man I’m supposed to be playing against was never really good at Chess. I thought I’d level the field. And as juvenile as you make Monopoly sound, it’s really quite an interesting game.

THOMAS: What makes it more interesting than Chess?

GINA: If you ask me, they’re both boring. You’d never catch me sitting down at a game like this. Monopoly or Chess. Just give me a good book any day. Much more stimulating.

HAROLD: What makes it more interesting than Chess, I suppose – at least in this case – is that at any point, the tide can turn by the proper throw of the die. In Chess, your opponent is always looking for the next open move, trying to figure out what you’re thinking, trying to protect the most valuable piece –

THOMAS: The King.

HAROLD: - Of course, but with a game like Monopoly... There’s luck involved. Even the biggest idiot in the world stands at least a fraction of a chance of winning against the most skilled player.

THOMAS: How sensitive you sound. I never took you to be a man that would ever take into consideration the shortcomings of another man.

HAROLD: What is it to win if there’s no challenge? Besides, there’s no incentive to play if there’s no chance of victory for the other party.

GINA: Well, gosh, that sure does sound awful nice of you, Harold, but Thomas and I, we really have to be running.

HAROLD: Ah, yes. It was good running into you again, Gina. Thomas. We should play Chess sometime. You’re the only person who has ever really come close to beating me, outside my father.

THOMAS: Yes, playing again does sound quite fun.

HAROLD: And I read all about your latest dig in National Geographic. That’s... It’s really something, isn’t it.

THOMAS: It is.

(GINA stares at THOMAS – everything short of pulling his arm.)

THOMAS: But we really have to be running. We have lunch reservations at Luigi’s.

HAROLD: Oh, they’re open for lunch now?

THOMAS: ... We just have to get going, is all. You understand.

HAROLD: Of course. I’ll see you two later. Have a good lunch.

(THOMAS and GINA cross to SR. They appear deep in conversation. GINA starts motioning – it appears they are having a silent argument. After a few seconds, she exasperatedly drops her hands to her sides.)

GINA: Fine, Thomas. I’ll be at the apartment.

(THOMAS goes in to kiss her, but she walks away. He sighs, and runs after her. A few seconds pass, and he walks back on stage, crossing over to HAROLD.)

THOMAS: Sorry about that, I didn’t – ah. That was rather awkward.

HAROLD: I thought you had lunch plans?

THOMAS: I haven’t seen you in three years, Harold. A sandwich and soup can wait another day, can’t they?

HAROLD: At least I know I rank higher in your book than chicken stock and stale bread. Have a seat, have a seat.

(THOMAS sits down, and HAROLD sits across from them, the board between them)

THOMAS: When is your friend supposed to arrive?

HAROLD: He was due in a few minutes ago. When he gets here, you can stand up, free yourself from your now binding conversation with me.

THOMAS: Binding?

HAROLD: Well, now, at least according to etiquette, you’re required to stay until your replacement comes along. Which really, shouldn’t be too long now, as he has a track record of being highly punctual.

THOMAS: Oh. I see. Did you really read about my dig in the National Geographic?

HAROLD: I did. It was a big story.

THOMAS: It was bigger than a big story, Harold. It was the cover story.

HAROLD: A big story, a cover story. They’re both big stories. I was passing by in the airport, when I look over and see your beaming face on the cover. The first time I’ve ever bought the magazine – quite a boring one, at that, so it’ll probably be the last one I ever buy. It’s not every day I see a past acquaintance of mine has... What did they say? “Changed the face of...”

THOMAS: “Changed the face of modern paleontology and the very way we could look at the migratory patterns of Paleolithic herbivores.”

HAROLD: A mouthful at that. And when I saw you looking up at me from that golden frame, it just made me curious. Car, or gun?

THOMAS: Excuse me?

HAROLD: Automobile or firearm.

THOMAS: I don’t follow.

HAROLD: Playing piece of choice. Automobile, or firearm. I’m being a gentleman and letting you choose.

THOMAS: I don’t really have time to play, Harold –

HAROLD: It’s just until my friend arrives.

THOMAS: But Gina, I should really...

HAROLD: It’s anyone’s game, Thomas. No set winner at the beginning. Not like chess.

THOMAS: The gun. I’ll take the gun. I didn’t even know a gun was a Monopoly piece.

HAROLD: It isn’t. I lost the pieces a few years back and replaced the shoe with a Clue! piece.

THOMAS: Ah. Well, Thomas with the gun on “Go!” then.

(HAROLD chuckles)

THOMAS: The laughing equivalent of a golf clap. Highest roll goes first?

(HAROLD picks up the dice and tosses them on the board)

HAROLD: Lucky number seven.

THOMAS: The odds are in your favor.

(THOMAS rolls the dice.)

THOMAS: Eight. I’ve won!

HAROLD: Barely. But this just reinforces what I said about competent competition.

(THOMAS chuckles)

HAROLD: The laughing equivalent of a golf clap.

(THOMAS rolls, and moves his piece)

THOMAS: So just seeing me on the magazine compelled you to buy it? I’m no Capote. It wasn’t a come-hither look. I was covered in dirt. I remember the day Sarah Alderman flew out to take the picture. It was hideously hot... I was trying my hardest not to sweat, like you can not sweat just by wishing that you won’t. But if ever there was a person...

HAROLD: Trying to impress her, then?

THOMAS: She’s a famous photographer. Of course I was trying to impress her.

HAROLD: With Gina back at home?

THOMAS: Come off it. But I was sweating anyway, and she just walked through the haze. I told her, I said, “Sarah, be careful, there are bones everywhere.”

HAROLD: And?

THOMAS: That’s just an embarrassing thing to say to someone. First impressions are everything, aren’t they? “There are bones everywhere”! As if she didn’t know this. The first thing I said was an insulting thing.

HAROLD: Not outwardly aggressive, but to her intelligence.

THOMAS: Exactly. But I was lucky. She laughed. Took my first picture with me holding a shovel, but I had to tell her that once we even get near the bones, we stop with that nonsense. It’s so easy to fracture – well, you know. You’ve seen my lectures, you know me. I don’t want to get into that now.

HAROLD: It was always interesting to hear about how things are easily broken. It’s always been a fascinating concept, that these things have survived under the earth for millions of years, and at the end of the day, something as soft as an irreverent shovel strike can cause them to break in important places. Even a misstep can shatter a ribcage that has been around longer than I care to think.

THOMAS: Right, well, anyway, Sarah was very kind. Walked me through the whole thing. Told me I was cute, because I was camera shy. I said that she was just intimidating, and she laughed and laughed. The thought of her – have you ever met Sarah Alderman?

HAROLD: Twice.

THOMAS: The thought of her being menacing is laughable, is it not?

HAROLD: That depends. I’ve known her rather personally, and I assure you –

THOMAS: Pardon?

HAROLD: I’ve known her rather personally, and I assure you that she can be quite menacing. She can dish it out as well as she takes it.

THOMAS: What do you mean?

HAROLD: Well, when she and I lived together –

THOMAS: You lived with her...

HAROLD: Briefly. This was... About a year and a half back. I remembered how much you used to talk about her. You and Sarah, you went to the same college, right?

THOMAS: Yes, but I never had the nerve to talk to her –

HAROLD: But you were always so descriptive. I could just picture her. And who was assigned to make my tin-type, so to speak, other than your Sarah? I didn’t quite know what to say to her. You made her sound more than human. Once I got past that fact, it was really quite simple. She’s very funny. Very caring. Easy to get involved with.

THOMAS: And you lived with her?

HAROLD: She lived with me, actually, but yes. We did live together, however you cut it.

THOMAS: So you and her – you two... Ah, did you –

HAROLD: What? Did we what?

THOMAS: Did you two, were you.... Was it –

HAROLD: Come on, now, m’boy.

THOMAS: Intimate? Carnal?

HAROLD: In every definition of the word.

THOMAS: Oh.

HAROLD: In any case, things didn’t last long. They never do, do they? These things, these feelings, they’re only just fleeting. I swear, sometimes I like the idea of being with someone so much that I’ll just take anything.

THOMAS: But she was more than just anything, right?

HAROLD: Of course. I was as attached to her as I can be to someone other than myself.

THOMAS: She deserves it, I guess. Not – not the type of attachment you can give, but happiness. I’ve always thought so. Ever since college.

HAROLD: Yes. I agree. Which is why I had to cut her loose. That, and she was dragging me down. Some days I just want to come back to an empty home and a bottle of scotch. Some days, I want to come back to a person I know will appreciate me. Some days, I want to come back to a stranger, someone who will take my money and leave me in the morning without having to say a word. It’s like I can be three different people. She only filled one of those niches.

THOMAS: It just makes you sound... insensitive.

HAROLD: This is big talk coming from you, Thomas. It sounds like you’re rather invested in Ms. Alderman.

THOMAS: I know this is foolish asking you, but did you ever have the one that got away?

HAROLD: Of course. I didn’t form my views on love overnight.

THOMAS: Yeah, well, that was Sarah.

HAROLD: Even though you didn’t talk to her? You must have felt very vindicated when she visited you all the way out in the middle of nowhere.

THOMAS: Yeah.

HAROLD: Must have felt like a sign. Even though you had Gina back at home.

THOMAS: What are you doing? Stop it.

HAROLD: Did you sleep with her?

THOMAS: No.

HAROLD: I’m sorry, that was out of line. Whose roll is it? Mine? Yours?

THOMAS: Yours.

HAROLD: Right, right. (Rolls the dice) Hm... Marvin Gardens. Should I buy it?

THOMAS: Why not.

HAROLD: Cheer up, m’boy. You act like I’ve just killed you.

THOMAS: I’m sorry, I’m just a little distracted now.

HAROLD: Get your head back in the game. I could have played with a computer if I wanted to play against someone unresponsive.

THOMAS: I’m just thinking.

HAROLD: About the night you had with Sarah?

THOMAS: What? No!

HAROLD: You act like I’m going to go tell Gina right now. I’ve had my share of infidelities in the past. I know what it is. And given my take on needing another person – you really think I would do that? Think of it like this... She wasn’t a person. Gina was half a world away from you. You were half a world away from her. You two, together, were an entire world apart. If you’re in a different world, you’re a different person, and the attachments you had, they sever. And Sarah is no longer Sarah, she’s just a conquest – something to sate your needs. If you had her, I don’t care. If you’re afraid of offending my sensibilities because I used to be with her, don’t worry. It was over a year ago. You should know better than most that I don’t carry these things with me. With the weight of the world on your shoulders, you can’t really have a straight spine.

THOMAS: ... I just don’t want to talk about it.

HAROLD: Of course you do. You just don’t want to be proud. You’re not in college anymore. It’s not prudent to take pride in something like that, is it?

THOMAS: It absolutely isn’t. I don’t know how someone can be proud of their infidelities.

HAROLD: It’s not a badge you’re supposed to wear with pride, but it’s a badge you must wear regardless. Some people choose to take it in stride, others choose to hide it. You’re choosing to hide it.

THOMAS: Yes. I slept with her. Once.

HAROLD: Don’t you feel better?

THOMAS: I feel sick, Harold. What if Gina finds out?

HAROLD: How will she find out? Why would you tell her?

THOMAS: I don’t know. What’s stopping you from telling her?

HAROLD: I told you, I don’t care. The only person that cares at this point is you. The only person that ever needs to care, is you. The more people you get invested in it...

THOMAS: I suppose.

HAROLD: Now, don’t you feel better.

THOMAS: Slightly. Like an infant that has been burped, I suppose.

HAROLD: Good. (There’s a long pause) I did know the entire time.

THOMAS: About?

HAROLD: You and Sarah. She called me when she got stateside. Told me about you.

THOMAS: What?

HAROLD: Some people wear their infidelities with pride. Other’s feel more guilty. She felt the need to confess.

THOMAS: I had no idea you and she... She and you were together, Harold, I swear.

HAROLD: And that doesn’t matter. It was heading south long before she left.

THOMAS: Then why did you have me say it?

HAROLD: Marvin Gardens. I’ll buy it.

THOMAS: Back to Monopoly, then?

HAROLD: Of course. We’ve been neglecting it long enough with our silly pitter patter.

THOMAS: ... Right. My roll. (Throws the dice) Directly to jail. Quaint.

HAROLD: You can re-roll if you want.

THOMAS: No, no, I’ll take it on the chin. Not much else I can do.

HAROLD: We can just walk away from this, if you want.

THOMAS: What time is it?

HAROLD: Almost three.

THOMAS: I probably should get going. I’m heading back out to the middle of nowhere next week. I don’t want to upset Gina. She always gets paranoid whenever I leave that I won’t come back.

HAROLD: Then you should go.

THOMAS: What about your friend?

HAROLD: I think I may have just gotten the day confused. We made the plans over cell phone – awful inventions, because who really wants to be connected all the time. I probably zigged when he zagged, that’s all.

THOMAS: Well, it was good seeing you again, Harold.

HAROLD: And you, Thomas. Give Gina my best.

THOMAS: I always do.

(They shake hands over the table. THOMAS exits SR, while HAROLD cleans up the game. After it has completely been put in the box, he walks over to the trashcan and tosses the box inside, before exiting SL.)

END SCENE.

[Kamunt]

Hmm, this is pretty interesting. One of the only real criticisms I have is that nearer the beginning, around the time when Gina makes her exit, there seems to be a whole lot of silence with nothing really being described as happening. I tried to picture what was happening there if it were happening in real life, and it more or less came down to Harold picking his nose for awhile while Gina and Thomas had their silent argument. Same problem when the two make their exit. Otherwise, I really liked this and would like to read more. The dialogue (holy crap, I can't spell that word) seemed really fluid for the most part, I'd say.

[MalReynolds]

(Lights up on an apartment – it’s not eloquently furnished. There’s a sofa, and a dining table set DRS with two chairs. There’s an easy chair and a book case, although the book case is nearly empty. It looks like the apartment of a lower middle class couple, and it is. It is the residence of THOMAS and GINA.

(GINA walks on stage, setting out two glasses on the table, preparing for dinner with THOMAS, who is not back from the park yet. She brings out a bottle of wine, when THOMAS enters, SL)

THOMAS: I’m sorry about that.

GINA: About what? Abandoning me so you could play catch-up with Harold?

THOMAS: I thought you’d be mad.

GINA: Why would I be mad, Thomas? Because you out and out didn’t listen to me? Nothing to be mad about.

THOMAS: I just hadn’t seen him in a long time, Gina.

GINA: Neither had I, and I didn’t want to stick around. He’s a bad man, Thomas.

THOMAS: We’re all bad people. I’ve done things I regret, same as Harold. I’m sure you have regrets, too. Acting like you’re above it –

GINA: He’s duplicitous. You know that. You know his public persona. Remember what he said at his last book signing? “I am an honest man, to a fault, and I will never deceive. This book is pure fiction, down to the last page.”

THOMAS: Of course I remember, but... Look at it this way. You have to act a certain way when you’re in the public eye, right? He can’t be bitter publicly. It’s bad press.

GINA: The book wasn’t fiction at all. It was a very personal book, Thomas.

THOMAS: Like I said, his public persona can be honest. It doesn’t mean the man behind it has to be. What are we having for dinner?

GINA: Roast.

THOMAS: Oh, sounds very nice. It’ll do good, for a prisoner like me.

GINA: A prisoner, eh?

THOMAS: The last space I landed on was “Go to Jail”. Talk about my luck. And we quit the game right there. Didn’t even get a chance to free myself. How I long to see the outside world, Gina, how I long to have a beautiful woman visit me and we could make use of –

GINA: Make use of –

THOMAS: - Use of the conjugal trailer.

GINA: We have a perfectly good bed.

THOMAS: (Moving closer) We can pretend. I can be the prisoner and you can be the prisoner’s wife.

GINA: Or you could be the prisoner, and I could be another prisoner.

THOMAS: Alpha?

GINA: I’m always the alpha, dear.

(THOMAS sits down on the sofa and crosses his legs)

THOMAS: I’m not sure I like that so much. Being stripped of my... of my...

GINA: Machismo?

THOMAS: Masculinity.

GINA: If you want to take a visit to the trailer tonight you’re going to have to relax a little bit. I was kidding.

THOMAS: I know...

(GINA picking up on something being wrong)

GINA: What’s up?

THOMAS: Harold got me thinking.

GINA: Jesus...

THOMAS: No, no, no, hear me out, hear me out. He didn’t have a profound effect on me. I don’t know what you’re scared of, Gina.

GINA: Okay, then, what.

THOMAS: He just got me to thinking about... You know, before the money. About what happened before I went away.

GINA: ... Why would you want to think about the past like that?

THOMAS: We had it rough, didn’t we?

GINA: Yes. Why would you want to dwell on –

THOMAS: I mean, this place... This apartment, definitely a step up. Scratches on the floor, dents in the ceiling, but this place is a blessing.

GINA: It is.

THOMAS: I just – I never realize how good I have it sometimes. All it would take is one careless move to just... To just... lose it all. I have everything I could want right now. Take it away, and I’m nothing.

GINA: A man is more than just his possessions, right?

THOMAS: But you’re not a possession. I’m better for you being around, I hope you realize.

GINA: Don’t say that. You were the same man before you met me. To equate being the great man you are now to me is... It’s silly. I haven’t done anything. I haven’t changed you.

THOMAS: But haven’t you?

GINA: I don’t see how.

THOMAS: You buy me shirts and pants and make sure I don’t look like an idiot, for starters.

GINA: Anyone could do that.

THOMAS: You make dinner.

GINA: You cooked before you met me, which is somewhat unfair –

THOMAS: And I thank God every morning when I wake up that I get to wake up next to you.

GINA: Don’t say that. I could be any girl.

THOMAS: No. You’re you. You’re you and that’s more that I could have ever hoped for.

GINA: ... What did you do.

THOMAS: What?

GINA: What did you do, Thomas?

THOMAS: What did I do when?

GINA: Why are you telling me this? What did you do? Why are you... Why are you guilty?

THOMAS: I told you. I’m in prison, remember? Do not pass go. Do not collect $200. I’m guilty of rolling the dice wrong.

GINA: Thomas, look at me and tell me you didn’t do anything.

THOMAS: I swear to you, I didn’t do anything.

GINA: You’re just –

THOMAS: Seeing Harold again reminded me how lucky I am to have you, that’s all. I could have ended up as the old curmudgeon alone, in the park, setting up a Monopoly game... for two. Who plays Monopoly with two people, anyway?

GINA: With Harold... It’s all in the subtext. He’s a very deliberate man. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he had been waiting for you in the park.

THOMAS: Instead of his highly punctual, but uncharacteristically late friend who never showed up?

GINA: Oh, no. He did show up. He was just you.

THOMAS: Please.

GINA: All I’m saying is, I know Harold. I know him better than I want to know him, and I know every – little – thing is deliberate. From the socks he puts on to the type of paper he feeds through his typewriter.

THOMAS: Was that why you were so uneasy at the park?

GINA: I saw his socks.

THOMAS: Forgive me for being so trusting of a friend I haven’t seen in so many years.

GINA: That naïve attitude will get you killed. Harold does haven’t friends. Harold doesn’t have lovers. Harold has pieces that he uses to achieve his own means. Slaves to his will.

THOMAS: And I think you’ve misjudged him.

GINA: Always giving the benefit of the doubt.

THOMAS: It’s the least I can do for him, after... After everything that happened.

(GINA looks at THOMAS for a few seconds.)

GINA: You don’t owe him anything.

THOMAS: I’d like to think that, but... it’s not so easy.

GINA: It never is.

(There’s a KNOCK at the door.)

GINA: Probably Jehovah’s Witnesses. Right before dinner. Did I tell you, we had some last week? I was less than merciful with them...

(She opens the door. HAROLD walks in)

GINA: Jesus.

THOMAS: Harold! This is... This is a surprise. What are you doing here?

HAROLD: Well, I was in the neighborhood – as you know, you both ran in to me at the park, which is less than a block from here, and I wanted to just drop in and say “Hello.” I didn’t even get to give Gina a proper greeting back there – Hello, Gina, the years have been very kind to you. You look as beautiful as the day –

GINA: Harold, what are you doing here?

HAROLD: Like I said, I figured that I would drop in. See how you two were living now.

THOMAS: Not as poor as we used to be.

HAROLD: A hot shot paleontologist with an empty bookshelf? I thought at the very least you’d have some of my work.

GINA: I sold them all.

HAROLD: Oh, I can feel the chill coming from you all the way over here, Gina. Please, please, lighten up. I’m not here to do anything but talk.

THOMAS: We’re actually about to eat, so...

HAROLD: I would love to! Thank you. I have to admit, I’m quite famished. There is a wonderful fast food place across the street – oh, I can see the bright neon sign from your window, hardly becoming – but I just couldn’t do that to myself. Let me guess, roast and red wine?

GINA: We only have enough for two.

THOMAS: I think we can –

GINA: I said, enough for two. Harold, I really think you should leave.

HAROLD: But Thomas, m’ boy, seemed so happy to see me. Thomas, let me ask you, can I stay?

(THOMAS is very uneasy with this. He looks over at his wife, who stares coldly back at him)

HAROLD: I didn’t say consult with your wife first, did I? I was asking you. Thomas, you wear the pants. You have the parts – you are the man here. I did not ask you to defer to the fairer sex, rather, to stand up and make up your own mind. Besides, at the very least, I’ll make dinner more interesting.

THOMAS: What you said to me in the park, about... The photoshoot, the story behind it, you’re telling the truth?

HAROLD: I don’t lie, do I.

THOMAS: If you’re not here to cause trouble... For either of us, then I see no reason why we can’t show a little charity and let Harold have a seat with us tonight, Gina.

GINA: Fine. I’ll be in the kitchen. No talking about me behind my back, boys.

(GINA exits SR)

THOMAS: Wow. I’ve never seen her like that before –

HAROLD: You must not have paid attention when you were around me, then. She’s never treated me kindly. Never a kind word, never a kind utterance, not even a kind groan in my general direction. She’s never really tolerated me. I thought you’d know that by now, Thomas.

THOMAS: Well –

HAROLD: And why don’t you have any books here?

THOMAS: Well, Gina said that she would –

HAROLD: That she would buy the books? What, do you want your shelves full with nothing but trashy romance?

THOMAS: I don’t mind, as long as I get enough space for my text books and “larger than life tomes”.

HAROLD: Her words?

THOMAS: Of course. She can have all the trashy romance novels she wants.

HAROLD: She has you by the neck, doesn’t she.

THOMAS: No –

HAROLD: Maybe not the neck, then, maybe by the –

THOMAS: Come on, Harold. Bitterness never became you.

HAROLD: I’m a writer. I look in the mirror every night before bed and muster all the bitterness I can just so I can have something to write tomorrow. It’s the fuel that feeds my soul. Without it, my newest book would be nothing.

THOMAS: Ah, a new book?

HAROLD: I’ve been researching it the past few months, and it really is quite something. I’ll have to tell you about it over dinner.

THOMAS: If it’s anything like your last few, I’m sure I’ll be impressed.

HAROLD: Oh, I think it’ll knock the socks clean from your feet. It’s as powerful as a shot of barrel aged whisky with the kick of a mule.

THOMAS: Well... I look forward to hearing about it, then.

(THOMAS moves over to the sofa, while HAROLD moves to the dinner table, opens the wine, and fills one of the two glasses. He takes a sip)

THOMAS: So, what brings you back here?

HAROLD: To your apartment? A warm meal.

THOMAS: To the city. You disappeared for a while.

HAROLD: Freedom promises only one thing – isolation. I needed to be around familiarity, I suppose.

THOMAS: But isn’t the removal of freedom essentially... paralysis?

HAROLD: You would think. But I like the idea of being controlled a small amount. It really isn’t so bad.

THOMAS: Where did you go?

HAROLD: All over the world. I have enough money set aside to do anything that I really want. I went to Africa – the Congo basin for a few months, and to the Andes. I was even in Tunisia for a brief spell.

THOMAS: I’m surprised our paths didn’t cross.

HAROLD: That’s where your did is, isn’t it?

THOMAS: Yes sir, yes it is.

HAROLD: Impressive. I was there a year earlier, near the Toran desert. That’s where your camp is set up. Who would have thought that a year later you’d be making the most important discovery of your life out there?

THOMAS: Certainly not me. I’m thankful, though, for the money it brought in. Substitute teaching – nothing against Gina – but it’s hardly enough to get the bills paid. It feels good to finally be the one bringing home the paycheck again.

HAROLD: To at least have something under your control.

THOMAS: I suppose.

HAROLD: Even the opposite gender loves to be in submission every once in a while. Holding the door open, paying the check, putting your coat over a puddle – that’s not a gentlemanly move. It’s controlling them.

THOMAS: How so?

HAROLD: They have to go through the door you open. You refuse their money. You dictate their path. They love being controlled even if they don’t realize it. That’s all it’s ever about, Thomas. Control. Absolute control.

THOMAS: Or, you know... Any of those things could be attributed to manners. Niceities.

HAROLD: And men generally don’t like being controlled. They don’t like being submissive. That’s why the door is never held. The path is never dictated. Chivalry is a joke. It’s a way to keep someone under your thumb and have them smile about it the entire time, never being the wiser.

THOMAS: But what about chivalry being dead, then?

HAROLD: It’s not dead. It’s very cleverly disguised.

THOMAS: I see...

HAROLD: You bring home the money. Whatever books she buys, you have the knowledge that without you, she’d be without them. And there you have it. Another form of control. The dinner she’s cooking – not only is she cooking it, you paid for it. And if I recall... You were quite the chef, m’ boy. It’s total control.

THOMAS: So vengeful.

HAROLD: The truth is hardly ever anything but.

THOMAS: It’s all about control, then?

HAROLD: It only ever is.

THOMAS: I suppose it’s worth thinking about, isn’t it? (Notices HAROLD no longer has the Monopoly board) Harold, where did your game go?

HAROLD: Oh, that? I –

(GINA emerges from the kitchen)

GINA: It’ll be a few more minutes. If you two would help me set the table, I’d be most grateful.

HAROLD: Absolutely. I wouldn’t dream of spending my time any other way.

THOMAS: Sure thing, dear.

(As HAROLD and THOMAS walk to the kitchen, THOMAS seemingly forgets his question, unknowing that HAROLD has traded in his game for a much more sinister one. As they enter the kitchen, exiting SR, the lights go down)

END SCENE.

[Tokzic]

how did harold get to marvin gardens in one roll anyway

okay reading the rest now

EDIT: Damn, I wish I hadn't read the summary before this. I'm thoroughly enjoying it.

If I had any advice, it's that your subtext is screamingly obvious. Every time you get to a chunk of it, the play seems to stop for a moment on it, and then one of the characters inevitably points out its significance. Keep things moving and don't have the characters explain it, it cheapens the symbol and it makes things less clear.

[MalReynolds]

Yeah, I know what you're saying.

Also, I made mention somewhere else that I haven't written all the stage directions in yet. I'm just mainly trying to get the talking on paper. Secondary actions like sipping the wine or continuous rolls I'll write in later.

[Tokzic]

As an actor, I'd actually keep those minimal. Usually they get heavily modified or entirely thrown out anyway unless they're directly involved in the dialogue.

[MalReynolds]

The lights come up with GINA, THOMAS, and HAROLD all seated around the table, a humble roast on a plate in the middle. HAROLD is slicing the pieces, sliding them onto the plates, and then handing them to GINA and THOMAS)

HAROLD: Thank you for this lovely meal, Gina. It’s been forever since I’ve had home cooked fare.

GINA: Oh, don’t thank me, Harold. Tom is the only reason you’re sitting here.

HAROLD: How true. I never thought of it like that, but it is very astute. Thank you, Thomas, for this wonderful home cooked meal.

THOMAS: It has to be better than what you ate in the other countries, at least. I can imagine you went after the full experience. Bugs, grubs, that kind of thing. My stomach crawls thinking about it, but a fresh roast.

HAROLD: I used to have this all the time. It’s a specialty dish. It’s a thick slice of nostalgia for me. (HAROLD casually glances over at GINA) Takes me back quite a few years.

THOMAS: (To GINA) Did Harold tell you?

GINA: Did Harold tell me what?

THOMAS: He’s working –

HAROLD: Excuse me, Thomas. I’m not quite ready to talk about that yet. I have to think up some more clever things to say about the text first. Besides, I get very excitable. Once I start talking, I’ll hardly have the energy to eat anymore.

THOMAS: Okay, then.

GINA: Look at this, the “Boys Club”. Secret messages. Have any decoder rings?

HAROLD: Oh, don’t worry. You’ll be brought up to speed if not outright allowed into the winners circle of the greater gender.

GINA: Ah, the one thing I could never miss about you, Harold. You rampant chauvinism.

HAROLD: You say that like it’s a bad thing. We all have what defines us. At least I’m very clearly defined.

THOMAS: But in such a bad way?

HAROLD: It’s better to be defined in a bad way than to be an aimless mass. I’m merely a product of my environment, which pretty much takes care of the guilt for me. I am who I am because of where I am, what I’ve done.

THOMAS: Tabula Rasa made you into a chauvinist?

HAROLD: Everything in my life leading up to this moment has set the path forth. I merely walk the line my life dictates.

GINA: And everything else is gravy?

HAROLD: I wouldn’t say that. I could do without the menacing looks from people – the people that know me. I could do without the whispers that run in my circle of friends.

GINA: You have friends?

HAROLD: Without the condescending tones from the people I know. There’s a reason when I go out in public, when I do readings from magazines, that I’m very careful to act differently.

GINA: But what about all your guilt? The absolution?

HAROLD: Not everyone sees things the same way, unfortunately, and I have my way of life to protect. Tabula Rasa or not.

THOMAS: Ah, yes. Your life. Are you any closer to retiring?

HAROLD: Not quite. My only requirement before I give up the game is to –

THOMAS: Win the Pulitzer for fiction, yes.

HAROLD: So, until I get notice, I’ll keep trying. Climbing the mountain, so to speak.

THOMAS: Unearthing the bones.

HAROLD: I do hear, however, through the grapevine, that one of the people at this table may be up for the McArthur Genius Grant. I’ll tell you now, it’s not a humble writer (GINA scoffs, loudly at the use of the word “humble”) or the... substitute teacher. It may be the brilliant up and coming paleontologist.

THOMAS: What?

HAROLD: Oh, yes. Do you remember Archie Cook? Friendly fellow, one the Pulitzer for prose, poet laureate of Manhattan?

THOMAS: Yes.

HAROLD: A friend of mine, if you’ll recall. He may have mentioned that your name was being tossed around during the consideration of this years recipient of the Grant.

THOMAS: Are you pulling my leg, Harold?

HAROLD: Why would I do that? The only way I would be lying about this would be if Archie Cook lied to me. Even if I’m wrong –

GINA: No guilt.

HAROLD: But I don’t think I’m wrong. At least, not now. Now, aren’t you two glad I came for dinner?

THOMAS: Yes, yes, very much so... This is – that’s huge, Harold. Absolutely huge!

HAROLD: Well, you didn’t win it yet. Don’t go buying a house or planning a vacation or anything. It’s just conjecture at this point. Who knows, maybe you turn out to be a big fraud. When you’re up for the Grant, they start looking at you a little more closely. According to Cook, at least.

THOMAS: It’s still a huge honor just to be nominated, Harold. You would know if you’d ever been – what I mean to say is that this is just... It’s an honor.

HAROLD: Enough to warm your cockles and restore your faith in humanity.

THOMAS: I never lost my faith in humanity, Harold, and my cockles are just fine, thank you. I want to be frustrated with you – but this is just... Gina, we’d be set, for life.

GINA: I know.

THOMAS: Than why aren’t you happier about it?

GINA: Getting the news from Harold is like having a brick tossed through the window with a check tied to it.

HAROLD: I always told you, you would make a terrific writer.

GINA: And I always told you, you were a miserable one.

THOMAS: Come on, you two! We should be celebrating!

HAROLD: You never used to think I was a miserable author. That came later.

GINA: When the charm wore off. When you began to show your true colors, yes. When your stories – your fiction – turned to lives of those around you paraded under masks for people to examine, rip apart... Yes.

THOMAS: That’s enough. From both of you.

HAROLD: I’m sorry, he’s right. This isn’t my night. This isn’t your night, either, Gina, although with his energy, I suspect it will be after I leave. It’s Thomas’s night.

THOMAS: Thank you.

HAROLD: I could do without you second guessing my intentions all the time, Gina.

THOMAS: Wine! We need more wine!

(GINA is about to stand, but THOMAS motions for her to sit back down)

THOMAS: I’ll get it, don’t move a muscle.

(He darts into the kitchen)

HAROLD: (Under his breath) Control.

(HAROLD and GINA stare at each other for a few seconds, neither speaking.)

HAROLD: He’s rather naïve, isn’t he?

GINA: What makes you say that?

HAROLD: He was only nominated. Winning is another thing.

GINA: He’s an idealist.

HAROLD: And he left us in the room together. He obviously trusts you.

GINA: Why would he even think for a second that you and I would –

HAROLD: I’m not saying that. You are. Which means you’ve thought about me. About the before time, before I introduced you to my charming, unassuming friend Thomas. Back when we were still married. When do you think about me, Gina? Is it on the cold nights when Thomas is a world away and you’re lying in bed, by yourself? Do you conjure me to lie next to you again? Or is it those warm nights when you’re wrapped in each others embrace?

GINA: Oh, Harold, the one thing I’ll always love about you is how absolutely full of yourself you are. There are thousands of other men in the world that come before you. Even if it was a cold night and I needed the thought of someone to keep me warm, you’re never the first person to come to mind.

HAROLD: Of course not. But I do come to mind.

GINA: If I’m feeling particularly destructive, there’s no better catharsis then imagining smashing your face in with a table lamp.

HAROLD: The cat has its claws out.

GINA: Maybe Thomas needs some help in the kitchen –

(As she rises, THOMAS walks back in with the bottle. He is having a hard time opening it – he hands it to GINA, who opens it very easily, and begins pouring herself a tall glass)

THOMAS: I hope you weren’t talking about me. Actually, I hope you were. About me and the Grant.

HAROLD: We were talking about true love.

THOMAS: Is that right?

GINA: If love is always having a lamp to smash in someone’s face, then yes –

HAROLD: About how true love can redeem anything.

THOMAS: And your life dictates this?

HAROLD: As I told you, Thomas. The world around me turned me into the man I am. If my first relationship hadn’t been an open one, I probably wouldn’t philander. But as it was, I am and I do. If my first marriage hadn’t crumbled because Lisa wanted money over everything else I provided her, then I probably would think twice about infidelity. But since she had such a cavalier attitude about it.

THOMAS: So where does true love come in?

HAROLD: I believe that if I ever did find love – the true kind that I sometimes write about but often ponder – that it would change me.

GINA: I can’t believe this!

THOMAS: What?

GINA: He’s goading you, Thomas. He’s baiting the conversation. Wake up, Tom!

THOMAS: What are you talking about, Gina?

HAROLD: I did have true love, once. Or I thought I did. I told myself, “Harold Caine, this is it. You’re giving it all up now. The booze. The late nights. No last names – no first names, giving that all up.” And I did. It was marvelous.

THOMAS: It was with –

HAROLD: You know who it was with, Thomas. For a full two years – I know that doesn’t sound like a long time, m’ boy, but believe me, it is – I was faithful. I was open, cheerful. I wrote a book that was universally panned by critics. They all said I lost my flare, lost my touch with reality. It was because I was happy. The book, the book was excrement, but I was so glad I had written it.

THOMAS: The lives of others under masks, fake names, fake locations... real events.

HAROLD: And so at a party, I made the foolish mistake of introducing my wife to my friend. In the book, you’ll remember, his names was Terry. Terry, the friend of the humble, but in love writer. And the three formed a book club, and the novel ended. No real conclusion, but how often in life do things bookend, or close neatly? Rhetorical. It was after the book ended that things were shaky. I found out about the late nights. The sneaking around behind my back. And it pulled me to a time that I had forgotten.

GINA: You aloof bastard.

THOMAS: No, could we just stop – I thought we were all past that, and –

HAROLD: I’m aloof? No. I was naïve. My world changed for that woman.

GINA: Changed? My husband was still the man on top. The one in charge. No matter how happy he seemed, he was blinded by the misery. The reason your book was panned, Harold, was because of something everyone could see but you. That the main character, Hickey, was blind to everyone. The feelings of those around him, the world he lived in. Simply blind. Every critic, every reader, could see this, and they didn’t know if you had written it that way on purpose, or if it mirrored your view of life.

HAROLD: And if it did?

GINA: Terry and Gladys were the main characters, not Hickey. And you failed to realize this. People were more invested in the friendship they formed, how their world operated, than the world you were creating around Hickey. Everyone expected Terry and Gladys to end up together. Your book was about a hundred pages too short. If you do a second edition, maybe you should add an epilogue.

THOMAS: Stop it!

GINA: About how Terry and Gladys did eventually become an item, how she left Hickey, the poor, tunnel-visioned boy wonder, and found happiness. Because that’s what the readers were expecting. Not any slop about “The Joy Luck Club was the first book they read together, but it wouldn’t be the last.”

HAROLD: So what if I was blinded. I was happy.

GINA: At what cost?

THOMAS: Will you please –

HAROLD: Come off it, m’ boy. You’ve won, haven’t you?

THOMAS: It’s not a contest, Harold. It was never a contest. Jesus, I thought we had all moved past this. You seemed like you had the last time I saw you.

HAROLD: Excuse me for carrying around my baggage. The roast must have brought it out in me.

THOMAS: Gina was right. You had this planned. One final session to waylay your problems onto us. The roast? You were waiting for me in the park. Whatever we were eating, it would have reminded you of the old times.

HAROLD: You’re absolutely right. I’m... I’m so sorry. I didn’t... I didn’t come here with the intention of – I feel... awful.

GINA: You feel nothing.

HAROLD: No, no. Thomas is right. I’ve made a mistake in coming here. I really have. I just wanted to drop in and given Thomas the news about the McArthur Grant. I did. I came with that intention in mind, but – I got side tracked.

GINA: I don’t believe it.

HAROLD: I don’t blame you. As I was saying, true love, it can change a person.

THOMAS: True love? I think you’d better go, Harold, before you end up insulting the both of us again.

HAROLD: True love. I’ve found it. I think it’s wonderful that you two have found it in each other.

GINA: Harold... You destroyed me. I put my all into you, and you gave me nothing but a broken world view. You have no one to blame but yourself.

HAROLD: And so you can’t hold judgment against me for all the wrong I did after I found out about you.

GINA: I’m a hypocrite. I wanted the best of both worlds, Harold. But I’ve learned. When I found out about you and... And everyone else, do you know how hard it was?

HAROLD: Despite the fact that you were less than ideal, at that point?

GINA: I said I was a hypocrite.

THOMAS: It’s true. She wasn’t the same person for months after she found out about you.

HAROLD: How awful. I never realized the impact I had. And just imagine how awful it would have been if I started philandering and you hadn’t been at the same time. The foundation of your world would have come down around your head.

GINA: Absolutely.

HAROLD: This certainly explains why you’ve always been less than kind to me.

GINA: And you’re a jerk.

THOMAS: You are a jerk, Harold.

HAROLD: I know. But you wouldn’t love me any other way. (Checks his watch) Look at the time. I do believe I’ve overstayed my welcome by just over a dinner and a visit. Shouldn’t have come here in the first place. I feel dreadful.

GINA: You are dreadful.

HAROLD: Well, before I go, I suppose I could tell you about the new book I’m writing.

THOMAS: Yes, you did mention that. You also said you wouldn’t be able to eat while you were talking about it, although you haven’t touched your plate –

HAROLD: The conversation was far more delicious than the food. But my new book, moving right along.

GINA: I think maybe you should just go. We can pick it up in the store whenever it comes out.

THOMAS: I think we owe it to him to at least –

GINA: We don’t owe him anything.

THOMAS: I’m putting my foot down, as a friend. I want to hear about this book.

HAROLD: Thank you, Thomas. Gina, feel free to leave the room if you don’t want to hear about it.

THOMAS: I think you should stay, Gina. Just for this. It won’t take long, will it?

HAROLD: Not at all.

THOMAS: And after, I’ll do the dishes.

(GINA stares at him, pleading, before sitting back down)

HAROLD: Gina, it was ironic you should mention adding an epilogue to the end of “The Happy Writer.” It really was strange hearing you offer up that suggestion, as instead of a simple epilogue, I wrote an entire sequel.

GINA: But you never write sequels.

HAROLD: Strange how the world has changed me, isn’t it? This sequel still features Hickey, although he’s slightly more broken. Should fix whatever problem the critics had with his last outing. But it features more on Terry and Gladys. The life they’ve built together.

THOMAS: That’s not a book –

HAROLD: You didn’t let me finish. There has to be conflict somewhere, and while Hickey can just sit back pining the loss of his wife, there would be nothing there. So I’ve added a new character. A photographer. The conflict stems from Terry, you see, Gina, because while he’s away on business, a young woman with whom he was infatuated with in college pays him a visit.

THOMAS: Harold –

HAROLD: And wouldn’t you just know it, they get along grand. So grand that they end up sleeping together, and Gladys is none the wiser. Normally I’m coy about disguising names, but Sarah Alderman is so distinctive and yet generic... I’m going to leave it in like that. And then of course Hickey pays them a visit, and they talk, they talk about how much it would have hurt Gladys if Hickey had been cheating on her when she hadn’t been cheating on someone else, how if both sides of the equation weren’t balanced, then her world would end.

GINA: Thomas... What is he talking about?

HAROLD: My new book. Nothing more, nothing. Less.

GINA: You went to college with Sarah Alderman, Thomas, that’s one of your favorite stories to tell and –

THOMAS: And it was just –

GINA: And she was the one that came out to take your picture for –

THOMAS: It didn’t mean anything, Gina, I swear to you – Harold, Harold, I swear to God, I will kill you, I’m going to kill you – Gina, it didn’t

GINA: - Harold, I hate you.

HAROLD: I know.

GINA: ... I hate you.

THOMAS: Gina, Gina, look at me. Stop looking at him.

HAROLD: I’ll make that easier on the both of you. I have to be going. Dinner was remarkable, was it not?

THOMAS: I never want to see you again, Harold, and if I do so help me –

HAROLD: The door is this way? I get lost in such a huge space.

(HAROLD walks to the door and exits.)

THOMAS: Gina, look at me. Look at me.

GINA: Thomas... I –

THOMAS: No, no, shh, don’t say anything.

GINA: I hate you.

(She pushes back from the table, and very slowly walks to the bedroom, offstage. She slams the door. THOMAS stands and kicks over his chair. After a few seconds, in a rage, he grabs a plate from the table and hurls it against the wall. It shatters, and the lights go down.)

END SCENE.

END ACT I.

[UnkownMan]

Wow. It must have taken forever to write that. Very nice. VERY nice indeed. I know this may be dumb but do you have an idea for the name? Cause I am very enthralled in this play.

[MalReynolds]

Yes, I decided to name the play "Victor". Thank you for taking the time to read it - the third scene was tough to write and I need to massively edit it for flow and cohesion, but I really like it.

One act down, two to go.

[dood gone krazee]

Absolutely amazing so far Mal!

I read the whole thing and really liked it. I loved how you said at one point that Harold was conjuring a much more sinister game, it got my imagination running on what might happen next.

I thought the play flowed fairly well, and I liked the character's personalities. I can see sort of picture where you're going with this, and can't wait for the next act.

Fine play so far, m'boy.

EDIT: How did you decide that it would be called Victor?

[MalReynolds]

After I came up with the first ending, which I scrapped, I decided the name "Victor" fits. When I tell people about the play, they assume "Victor" is a character that is played, rather than the title that one man will achieve in the upcoming acts.

Alllsooo, thank you for reading!