Opus Postumum

Copyright 1999 by dustin hansen

Scene 1

SETTING:  A
sparsely furnished middle- to upper-class home.

AT RISE:  MAN,
mid thirties maybe, sits in chair center stage facing out, reading and
concentrating. The only light is a small reading lamp next to man’s chair.
WOMAN–very pregnant–smiling hugely–a strained, fixed mask of a smile as
though her face is permanently stuck that way; (she will never be without this
smile throughout the rest of the play. The man, on the other hand, will never
smile in the slightest). She wanders aimlessly around the room, sighing
occasionally; (each time she sighs, the man looks up from his book in annoyed
disgust).

WOMAN

Want some tea, darling?

MAN

Don’t talk to me.

(Pause.)

WOMAN

How about a back rub?

MAN

Don’t touch me. Or ‘ll scream.

WOMAN

(Laughing coyly.)

You would not.

(Man stares at her threateningly. She is
unperturbed. Pause.)

WOMAN

How’s the opus coming?

MAN

(Pause. Staring at her:)

You trying to get my goat?

WOMAN

You can keep your silly goat.

(Man mutters a sarcastic laugh, scowls.)

WOMAN

But really, how’s it coming?

MAN

‘ll jump out that window.

(Woman laughs.)

MAN

‘m warning you.

(Woman chuckles.)

MAN

Would you like that? You’d like that,
wouldn’t you ‘dearest.’

WOMAN

I just want to know what it is you’re
working on. You never talk to me. The most important part of a marriage is
communication, you know.

MAN

The most important part of marriage is
sex and silence. At the moment ‘d prefer the latter.

(Silence. Woman goes to window, begins
to open it.)

MAN

Wife! What in God’s name are you doing!
Close those drapes! You want to let the whole world’s eyes into our living
room?

WOMAN

It’s stifling in here dear!

MAN

Oh nonsense.

WOMAN

I can’t hardly breathe!

MAN

You mean you can hardly breathe,
or that you can’t breathe. How in the name of Jehovah did they let you
through grade school? Did you perform sexual favors for the principle?

WOMAN

It’s so stuffy, honey! It’s making me
all dizzy.

MAN

Blame the very air yet; you’re absolutely
pathetic.

WOMAN

But sweety, ‘ll pass out!

MAN

Grand. Then maybe we’ll have some peace
and quiet for a change.

WOMAN

‘ll have a heat stroke!

MAN

And this concerns me how?

WOMAN

Honey!

MAN

You’ll live, will you not?

WOMAN

I suppose. For a little while longer.

MAN

There you are.

WOMAN

But what if I have brain damage?!

MAN

Your germ-sized brain is already damaged
irreparably; there’s no cause for worry. Now please, sit quietly, and let me
concentrate.

(Silence.)

WOMAN

Oh, what shall I eat? What oh what shall
I eat, ‘m so hungry I could faint. I could eat my clothes ‘m so hungry.

(Looks at clothes, feels cloth, smells
them.)

Maybe with ketchup. Hee hee! Wasn’t
that funny darling? What a silly wife you’ve got! Don’t you think?

(MAN stares at her, profoundly unamused.
His glare has no effect on her. WOMAN begins to hum a song. MAN rises, paces,
scowls at her, shakes head, silent but for occasional sighs and grunts; paces.
Goes to window, peers out through slit in curtains, paces, hand on head,
muttering to himself.)

Darling? Honey? Sweety? Sweety Pie?
Sugar? Sugar Plum? Cookie Crumb? Muffin? Dumpling? Pudding Cup? Malted
Milk? Fudge Brownie? Strawberry Tart? Blueberry Cheese Cake? Apple Crisp?
Carrot Cake? Souffle? Croissant With Melted Margarine?

MAN

(Finally unable to bear any more,
screams. Then:)

Desist woman! Eat if you’re hungry! Eat
your hair, I don’t care, just so long as your mouth is stuffed!

WOMAN

(Giggles.)

Now honey, you know you won’t be able to
talk so loud when the baby comes. You should maybe get used to it now, so it
won’t be hard for you.

MAN

That’s good, that’s fine: I have no
desire to speak. I have no desire to listen. I just want peace, and quiet,
and nothing more. Do you understand?

(WOMAN giggles, shakes her head in
amusement. Sits in rocking chair, rocks, a dreamy expression on her face,
hands resting on vast belly. Long silence. MAN stops pacing, sits down and
resumes reading. Silence. Woman begins to hum a song.)

Would you refrain from soiling the air
with your cacophonous yodeling, thank you ‘d appreciate it.

WOMAN

I wasn’t yodeling, honey. I–

(MAN stares at her with contempt.
Pause.)

WOMAN

You’re getting old.

MAN

What?

WOMAN

You’re getting old and senile and
irritable. ‘ve just noticed.

MAN

I am not. ‘m maturing and becoming
seriously preoccupied with death, even more so than in my childhood. What of
it. It’s natural. So shut your gob.

(Woman chuckles.)

MAN:
(Looking in mirror:)

I look distinguished.

WOMAN

You have lines all over you. Like a
puzzle.

MAN

That’s called character.

WOMAN

And your breasts are sagging.

MAN

You’re not comical in the least.

WOMAN

And you never smile.

MAN

I haven’t smiled since birth, you know
that.

(WOMAN laughs.)

MAN

Since before that. Since I was a
zygote–no, a sperm.

WOMAN

Oh, yes. You were a happy little spermy.
Now you’re old.

MAN

Goddammit ‘m solemn and distinguished!

WOMAN

An empty cathedral.

(WOMAN giggles. Silence. WOMAN hums.
MAN looks at her with vague homicidal intent. Pause. WOMAN’S expression
begins to change and contort with surprise and pain, increasingly agonizing.)

Honey? . . . Honey. . . . Honey I
think it’s happening.

MAN

What did I just get done saying. I want
no speaking unless it’s of the utmost importance. And since nothing is of the
utmost importance, I don’t expect to hear anything spewing forth from that
abominable facial sphincter of yours. Is that clear?

WOMAN

Honey, please! Do something!

(Rises from chair. Freezes.)

My . . . I think my water just broke,
sweetheart! My water, darling! It’s broken! What shall I do, dear?! You’re
a doctor: do something!

MAN

I can’t fix your paltry water.
(Muttering, to himself:) Now alienation is a non sequitur given apperception
as the basis for empirical or a posteriori impressions, synthetic cognitions or
analytic conceptions, which–

(WOMAN continues shrieking, breathing
heavily, gasps, sweats, looks afraid and in pain, etc.)

Is there something the matter with your
brain?

WOMAN

What?

MAN

Your brain.

(Indicating:)

There.

WOMAN

(delerious with pain)

Not . . . that I . . . not right now not

(Moves to lie down next to wall.)

. . . well no not . . . yet, I . . . . .
. . honey!

MAN:
(In one breath:)

If the trouble’s not in the brain then
there’s little I can do now is there.

WOMAN

Come over here!

MAN

What is it, ‘m not your lap dog.

(Again to himself:)

Now where was I . . . Ah yes. . . .
Given apperception as the basis . . . analytic perceptions refute [a priori] the very notion of a priori knowledge, not only of things-in-themselves but of
things-in-other-things and things-out-of-or-next-to-themselves, or of
things-in-between-themselves . . .

WOMAN

Can’t you do something? Can’t you take
the pain out?

MAN

Who am I, God?

WOMAN

This is your fault!

MAN

To what do you refer?

WOMAN

This is ALL YOUR FAULT!

MAN

Now there you go blaming everyone else
again for your troubles. Have you no decency, no dignity?

(Woman screams in pain.)

MAN:
(To himself:)

Now the fallacy of metaphysical solipsism
lies in the counterintuitive premise that the material reality . . .

WOMAN

You! You, you you . . . !

MAN

Stop speaking with exclamation points.
And don’t stutter, you sound like a mongoloid in need of a crack fix.

(Continuing:)

. . . that the material
reality—i.e., poultry, sand, wigs, washing machines, dinette sets,–

WOMAN

It’s coming! Oh my God, Oh my God It’s
comiiiiing!!

MAN

What, the apocalypse? Hallelujah. Been
waiting all my life. Let’s enjoy it in peace, shall we?

WOMAN

Sweetheart!

MAN:
(Continuing, to himself:)

. . . spatulas, feces, typewriters,
unicycles, light fixtures, ironing boards, egg beaters, gramophones, toasters,
mittens and so forth–

WOMAN

Sweetheart!

MAN

Desist, woman. You’re going to wake the
neighbors. You sound like a pig being slaughtered, they’ll be frightened.
They’ll think we’re engaged in some satanic ritual sex orgy and call the
landlady.

(WOMAN carries on.)

Good Christ, would you stop it woman?

(WOMAN carries on.)

‘m trying to think.

(WOMAN carries on.)

‘m trying to concentrate.

(WOMAN carries on.)

Are you mad?

(WOMAN carries on.)

Am I going to have to call a priest
again?

(WOMAN carries on.)

Drink some holy water.

(WOMAN carries on.)

Where’s that muzzle . . .

(WOMAN carries on more vociferously.)

I should have gotten a turtle instead of
a wife.

WOMAN

Honey! Honey, it’s happening!

MAN

Well maybe if you’d said your prayers or
gone to confession or something.

WOMAN

I can feel it!

MAN

What did you have for supper?

WOMAN

Aaaaargrrrghgg!

MAN

What did you eat today, woman? You
didn’t eat that leftover hotdish, did you?

WOMAN

It’s coming!

MAN

Are you having an erotic dream?, right in
front of me? It’s repulsive.

WOMAN

Ohh, oh, ah, ah, ooh, argh!

MAN

Who is he? Tell me who he is! Is it the
milkman again?

WOMAN

It’s coming! The baby! It’s
comIIINGGGG!

MAN

What?

WOMAN

The baby!

MAN

What, now?

WOMAN

Yes, now!

MAN:
(Checking watch:)

But it’s not time.

WOMAN

It’s here NOWW!

MAN

What a nuisance. ‘ve totally lost my
train of thought. You see what you’ve done? You’ve caused me to resort to
oral speech. And still I can’t hear myself think.

WOMAN

It wants out!

MAN

I wouldn’t. But little does it know.

WOMAN

I can’t hold it much longer . . .

MAN

Well try, please. At least let me finish
this chapter.

(WOMAN carries on during following:)

Let’s see now . . . come back to that . .
. footnote there . . . Yes, yes. Now: Deontological Necessity. Deontological
necessity substantiates refutation of phenomenological subjectivism and . . . .
and to postulate relativism as self-evident amounts to epistemological nihilism
which is a paradox which presupposes . . . contradicts its own premise that
prima facie obligations . . . negates the . . . in that . . . . therefore . . .
all things being equal . . . ipso facto . . .

WOMAN

Do something!

MAN

Quiet please! I must have quiet! Now,
what is required is a sublation of the dialectic between the supersensible and
the nonsensical, a synthesis which will assimilate and thus eradicate the false
dichotomy of–

WOMAN

Do sommmmethiiiing!

MAN

Like what for instance?

WOMAN

Help meeeee!

MAN

You want something to bite on? Well you
can’t use anything of mine.

WOMAN

You’re a doctor, DO SOMETHING FOR THE
LOVE OF GOD!

MAN

Now honey, I refuse to do ANYTHING for
the love of ‘God.’ I thought ‘d explained this.

WOMAN

Aaaahhhhh!

MAN

Quiet! Please! The neighbors!

(WOMAN screams.)

MAN

Am I going to have to gag you and stuff you
in the clothes hamper again?

(Man has continued pacing and pondering
throughout.)

WOMAN

Oh my God ‘m gonna die! Do something!

MAN

What am I going to do? ‘m not a woman,
I know nothing about these things.

WOMAN

You’re a doctor, you have to do
something!

MAN

Yes but not of medicine you ignoramus.

WOMAN

Help!

MAN

I tell you its’ nothing to do with me.
Now silence if you please!

(Woman continues screaming, moaning,
shouting, etc. Man continues to demand silence, more and more adamantly, until
both are shouting–she in labor, he for silence. [*The labor can take place
behind a piece of furniture, entirely concealed from the audience’s view.])

(The phone rings. The man screams. Goes
to the phone, rips it out from the wall, throws it out window.)

(A knock at the door. Voices: “What’s
going on in there? What’s all the racket? ‘m going to call the police in a
minute. It’s late. People are trying to sleep.” Etc.)

(Woman lets out sustained terrifying
scream of agony, which rises to a crescendo. This scream sets off a similar
scream in the man, which crescendos with hers until both are screaming with
deafening volume.)

(Then an abrupt and deafening silence.)

(Baby cries gurglingly, softly, then louder.
Man seems to be having a nervous breakdown.)

 

WOMAN

Honey, oh honey, it’s a girl, it’s
beautiful, it’s so beautiful!

(Baby cries.)

MAN

Is there no silence . . .

WOMAN

Isn’t it beautiful honey? Look at it!
Just look at it! Come here, honey! . . . Honey?

MAN

Is there no peace? Is there no solitude?
Is there no escape? Is there no hope?

Scene 2

 

(MAN sits at dinner table. Silence. MAN
is motionless, a hurt, ponderous, and somewhat agitated yet empty expression on
his face, staring down at plate.)

(WOMAN enters–still the smile, but now
it is clearly forced and involuntary–carrying pot of food, screeching in
crescendo as she approaches [gradually realizing the pot is burning her
hands]:)

WOMAN

Ooh, oh, ah, ah, ooooooh ow, ow,
owowowowowOWWWoo . . .

(She practically drops the pot onto the
table, setting it down rapidly and roughly.)

MAN

(Closes his eyes, otherwise remaining
motionless:)

Would you please refrain from primordial
screeching and howling and monosyllabic balked expressions of pain and use a
potholder next time, and for the sake of others set the crockery down gently
and in a polite manner. Thank you I would appreciate it.

(Pause. WOMAN sucks her fingers.)

 

WOMAN

It’s not a crockery, exactly . . .

(MAN looks at her searingly. She wilts,
sits. Silence.)

WOMAN

Should we say a prayer first?

(MAN stares at her virulently.)

WOMAN

I know you think it’s silly dear but it’s
tradition, we always did it when I was growing up . . .

MAN

You actually believe you’ve grown up, do
you?

WOMAN

You don’t have to join.

MAN

Thank you. I believe I shall abstain.

WOMAN

God our Father in Heaven, we thank thee
Lord for these thy gifts–

MAN

Christ! what trite banality and mindless
prattle might I go mad please?!

WOMAN

Darling, please.

MAN

Could we perhaps say it silently? Either
He hears, or he doesn’t. Thank you I would appreciate it.

(WOMAN, eyes closed, prays to herself.
MAN watches her, then turns away in disgust, then begins to scoop hotdish from
the pot onto his plate. Begins to eat apathetically.)

(When the WOMAN finishes praying she
makes the sign of the cross and then begins to eat quite vivaciously, hungrily,
yet almost reverently.)

(Silence. They eat.)

MAN

This is cold.

WOMAN

Oh no! ‘m so sorry, dear, ‘ll–

MAN

You can’t even call it hotdish.

WOMAN

‘ll warm it up for you, sweetheart.

(Begins to take his plate.)

MAN

Leave it.

(Silence. The MAN stares at his plate,
indifferently picking at his food, with an occasional glance laden with annoyed
disgust at the WOMAN. The WOMAN smiles and stares at the MAN.)

WOMAN

So how is the thesis coming?

MAN

Are you trying to spoil my dinner?

WOMAN

What? No, I just . . . I was just
wondering, whether, if, if you’d . . . ‘m sorry, dear. ‘ll change the
subject.

MAN

Thank you ‘d appreciate it.

(Pause.)

WOMAN

It looked like it would rain today, but
then–

MAN

Good Christ spare me for the love of God.
What are you, a meteorologist?

WOMAN

‘m sorry, I was just making–

MAN

You were making a fool of yourself and a
mockery of language and of the gift of speech, that’s what you were doing.

WOMAN

Oh. Yes, well I . . . I got a call from
Margaret, and she’s–

MAN

‘ve exchanged eighteen words with the
woman at most, none of which formed a single complete sentence; now do you
really think ‘m interested.

WOMAN

No. Not really I suppose.

MAN

You suppose.

WOMAN

Well I . . .

MAN

Please, can we just eat in peace?

(WOMAN nods. They eat, each looking at
the plates. Silence.)

WOMAN

Actually, there was–there is, something,
that ‘d–that I need to–that we should . . .

MAN

Stop stammering, collect your thoughts in
an organized fashion, say them to yourself–in your head, silently–and then,
when prepared and confident that you’ve something significant to contribute to
the external world, speak articulately, or at least coherently, in as few words
as possible or necessary. Thank you I would appreciate it.

WOMAN

(Pause.)

But I don’t know . . . ‘m not sure how
to . . .

MAN

What did I just say?

WOMAN

(Pause. With eyes closed, WOMAN mouths
the words; then:)

‘ve been thinking about having another
child.

(Cautiously opens her eyes. Silence.)

MAN

A what?

WOMAN

Well it’s just–‘ve been thinking, that
we could–

MAN

Have you been drinking?

WOMAN

I just–

MAN

Do you have a fever?

WOMAN

I thought, you know, since–

MAN

What, are you bored? Get a puppy. No,
don’t. Get a hobby. A quiet hobby. Knitting, for instance. Or better yet,
gardening; you can do it outside, spend all your time there from now on. With
the cucumbers. How’s that sound.

WOMAN

I just . . . I know that it’s–but I–the
thing is, is that ‘m . . . [This was so much easier the last time. . . .]

MAN

The last– . . . Don’t tell me. Don’t
say it. . . . Are you telling me– . . . Are you trying to tell me that
you’re– . . .

(Pause. WOMAN nods, downcast. Silence.)

MAN

Of course you realize I want nothing to
do with it. The decision’s entirely up to you. ‘ve no idea who the father
might be and ‘ve no desire to know. It doesn’t interest me in the slightest.
The question of whether you know who he is I find only mildly bemusing.
So let us end this discussion right now and eat our dinner in peace like
civilized people, agreed?

(Pause. WOMAN nods. They eat in
silence.)

MAN

(Thrusting down his silverware:)

I can’t eat this.

(Stares at WOMAN:)

So what did the Lord our Heavenly Savior
prepare for dessert this fine evening.

WOMAN

Oh. . . . Dessert. . . . Well, . . .

MAN

What. Did He not, in his infinite grace,
bestow a divine pastry upon us of some sort or another? Hmm?

WOMAN

Well, we’ve got . . . I think ‘ve got
some . . . There’s some leftover rice in the fridge I think. I could make a
pudding, if you don’t mind waiting–

MAN

Skip it please. Bring me an antacid. I
think ‘ll read a while.

WOMAN

Yes, all right dear. ‘ll be quiet. I
won’t make a peep.

MAN

If you begin to peep ‘ll have you
committed you realize.

WOMAN

Yes. ‘ll be quiet. You won’t even know
‘m here.

MAN

I always know you’re here.

WOMAN

Yes. ‘m sorry. But try to forget, and
‘ll try to forget too. That ‘m here. All right?

MAN

All right. Yes. Good. All right then.

(Rises from table, goes to chair center
stage, facing out, picks up thick book, reads. WOMAN eats, audibly. Long
silence, but for her eating, which MAN tries hard to ignore. Finally bursts
out:)

God almighty could you not chew so
confoundingly loudly, thank you I would appreciate it, thank you.

WOMAN

Oh! ‘m sorry dear.

MAN

You’ll be forgiven on judgment day.

WOMAN

Yes. ‘m sorry.

MAN

You said that already.

WOMAN

Did I? Oh yes, I did didn’t I. ‘m
sorry dear, I seem to have–

MAN

Don’t apologize for apologizing or I
shall be driven beyond the end of my wits where I currently hang and lose it
irretrievably.

WOMAN

Right, yes. ‘m sorr– I won’t, dear.
You’re right, as always.

MAN

Are you patronizing me?

WOMAN

No, I just–

MAN

Shhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

(WOMAN nods. Continues to eat as
silently as possible. MAN resumes reading. Silence. WOMAN has finished
eating. She yawns rather loudly, stretches audibly, stands–her chair loudly
scuffling back across the floor–begins to clear the table, clanking the
dishes.)

MAN

(Exasperated, thrusting book down on
lap:)

What is it?! Will you forget that you
exist if you do not constantly hear yourself moving about and performing
perfunctory bodily functions and banging things about? Is that it? Are peace
and serenity so terrifying to you that you must insist on puncturing them with
your strident buffoonery?!

WOMAN

What? I–

MAN

ShhhhhhhhHHHHHHHH!

WOMAN

‘m sorry dear, I–

MAN:
SHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

(WOMAN bows head, proceeds to clear the
table as silently as humanly possible, periodically glances anxiously at the
MAN, who watches her. Now he resumes reading, glancing up at her only
occasionally, when the soft chink of a fork against a plate can be heard, etc.)

(Once all the plates are cleared, she
wipes off the table–the MAN watching her, unable to ignore the sound of the
cloth rubbing along the surface–and then exits into kitchen. Water heard
running, dishes clanking against each other and against the sink.)

I can hear that you know.

WOMAN

(calling, from kitchen:)

What dear?

MAN:
(Winces.)

Could you please discontinue this
industrious domestic enterprise if you cannot carry it out in a composed and
unobtrusive manner, thank you I would appreciate it.

WOMAN

What?

MAN

Tone down that clammer!

(Silence. MAN rubs temples, squinting as
though wrenched with a migraine, resumes reading. WOMAN returns, very slowly
and silently, stands wounded and dumbfounded, looking about the room, then staring
at the man in the chair. She stands, motionless and silent, watching him.
Silence. She sits, watches him. Rocks in chair–stops when it squeaks, sits
motionless. Watches him.)

MAN:
(Suddenly erupting:)

Desist, woman! For the love of Ezekiel,
cease, put an end to this torment can’t you?!

WOMAN

What?–I–

MAN

Is there nothing to look upon, nothing to
contemplate, nothing to busy yourself with but ME?!!?

(Pause.)

WOMAN

I . . . I don’t understand, dear, I–

MAN

Look elsewhere! Turn your ubiquitous
gawk upon other objects! Do not trap me beneath your inept microscope any
longer or I shall explode in an eruption of concentrated blood pressurized
beyond the brink by your spyglass magnifying dark eye! Please! I beg you!
Leave me be! Leave me in peace!

(He breaks down into tears. Baby heard
crying in the next room. The WOMAN stares at him.)

WOMAN

I . . . I don’t know what to say, I–

MAN

DON’T, SAY, ANYTHING! . . . Don’t make
a SOUND! Not a peep, not a whistle, not a hum, not a grumble, not a whisper,
not a shuffle, not a murmur, not a yawn, not a sigh, not a gasp, not a cry, not
a cough, not a wheeze, not a sneeze, not a noise! Silence, please! . . .
That’s all I ask. . . . Is that really so much to ask?

(Silence. The WOMAN stares at him.
Finally she stares at the floor. Silence but for the MAN’S soft sobs. He
covers his face with the book, burying himself.)

You see what you’ve made me do? My book
is all wet. It’s practically . . . it’s ruined, it’s soiled with . . . it’s
practically . . .

(Weeps. Pause.)

Could we have it dark please? Please
could we turn out the lights, have it all dark? Could we please?

(The WOMAN nods, goes to lamp, switches
it off.)

MAN:
(Sighing with unfathomable relief:) Ahhhh.

(Genuine:)

Thank you my dear. You are truly kind to
me. Now. Would you bring me my pills?

(WOMAN gropes over to table, stumbling
and stubbing her toe, releasing an involuntary shriek of pain.)

 

WOMAN

‘m sorry, ‘m so sorry, I didn’t mean
to–

MAN

It’s all right. My pills please.

(WOMAN proceeds to table, gets bottle of
pills, brings them to the MAN.)

Some water perhaps?

(Woman goes to kitchen. Water running.
Returns with glass.)

 

WOMAN

I ran the faucet as quietly as I could.

MAN

Bring it here.

(WOMAN sits on man’s lap, cradling his
head in her arms. He reacts as one startled by the sudden realization that
there are bugs crawling all over his body.)

No, no no, please, don’t do that, don’t
touch me, I don’t, I can’t . . . Please, just leave me be. ‘ll take it.
Please. Just let me alone.

(Silence. She rises, moves toward door,
stops, turns, stares at him; he swallows several pills; looks down, motionless;
she turns, exits. Silence, darkness.)

(Baby begins crying.)

(MAN stares intensely in front of him as
one seeing a ghost. Slowly begins to twitch. Baby cries, becoming louder.
MAN’S twitching becomes more frantic, his body contorting until he is having some
sort of seizure. Baby howling. WOMAN does not speak, only stares at him.
Starts to move toward him, then freezes, watches. When the seizure ends
[strangely in sync with the baby’s crying fading away into silence], the man’s
arms drop limply at his sides, head bows slightly, eyes downcast but staring
blindly outward. Motionless. Long silence.)

 

WOMAN

Honey?

(Long silence. Blackout.)

Scene 3

(Mother holds child, nurses it.

Man sits catatonic in chair.)

Baby cries.)

(Mother mutters SHHHHH.)

(Pause.)

(Baby cries.)

(Mother looks at man apprehensively.

(Baby cries.)

(Mother mutters SHHHHHH. You’ll wake
him.)

(Baby cries.)

 

WOMAN

Shh. He’s working. You’ll disturb him.
He’s concentrating. He’s working on his opus. Shhhh. Don’t interrupt him.
Shhhhhh.

(Baby cries.)

(Woman looks at man apprehensively.)

(Baby stops crying.)

(Woman relaxes. Rocks in chair. Eyes
shut.)

(Fade.)

Scene 4

(A small GIRL huddles in one corner, as
though trying to back out of the room through the walls, to melt into them. A
small BOY cowers under a small table up left, peering out. Very soft dim light
from a lamp on the table, the lamp shade draped over with translucent blue
cloth. The boy and the girl stare at the man [middle-age now], who sits in the
chair in the center of the room, same position, facing out, eyes staring as
into infinite space. Whispering, almost inaudibly, of the children. Then,
uncontrollably, the boy can be heard responding:)

BOY

No! We can’t.

GIRL

Shhhh!

(Hissing:)

Be quiet! He’ll hear you!

BOY

Shhhh!

(Whispering:)

Stop telling me to be quiet! He’ll hear
you!

GIRL

(Hissing:)

He will not.

BOY

Shhh!

GIRL

(Vicious whisper:)

‘m not being loud! You’re the one being
loud!

BOY

‘m not being anything!

(Silence. They stare at the MAN in
terrified anticipation.)

 

BOY

(Whispering:)

When’s Mom coming home?

GIRL

(Whispering:)

When do ya think, dickhead. Same time as
always.

BOY

(Whispering:)

But what time is it?

GIRL

(Whispering:)

How the hell should I know, dingus!

(Silence. They stare at the MAN. Their
dialogue continues, all in whispers:)

 

BOY

Look at the clock.

GIRL

I can’t see it. It’s too dark,
beetlebrain.

BOY

You could see it. If you tried.

GIRL

Then why don’t you look.

BOY

I can’t see it from here.

GIRL

Well neither can I, fishface.

BOY

Shhhhhh!

(Silence. They stare at the MAN.)

I wanna go.

GIRL

Go where.

BOY

Anyplace. Out.

GIRL

You’re crazy and an imbi-sile.

BOY

I don’t wanna stay here.

GIRL

Mom’ll kill you.

BOY

Bet she won’t.

GIRL

How much.

BOY

What?

GIRL

Shhhh!

BOY

How much what?

GIRL

How much you wanna bet Mom kills you.

BOY

(Thinks.)

Mmmm. . . . Fifty dollars.

GIRL

You ain’t got no fifty dollars.

BOY

It don’t matter cause ‘ll win.

GIRL

What if ya lose, dummy?

BOY

(Thinks.)

Then ‘ll be dead.

GIRL

But you’ll still have to pay.

BOY

Will not.

GIRL

Oh yes you will.

BOY

You can have all my stuff. Except for my
Weebles.

GIRL

Wha’do I want your junk for, dingbat?

BOY

You could sell it.

GIRL

For fifty dollars?

BOY

Sure.

GIRL

No way.

BOY

I bet you could.

GIRL

How much.

BOY

What?

GIRL

Shhhhh! I said How much?

BOY

How much what?

GIRL

SHHHHH!

(Silence. They stare at the MAN.)

 

GIRL

He heard you.

BOY

Did not.

GIRL

Bet he did. He’s gonna tell Mom.

BOY

Bet he won’t.

GIRL

How much.

BOY

What?

GIRL

Shhhhhhh.

BOY

Shhh! Don’t shush so loud!

GIRL

Be quiet!

BOY

Shhhhh!

(Silence. They stare at the MAN.)

 

BOY

Do you think he can see us?

GIRL

I think he’s blind.

BOY

But can he tell we’re here? That we’re
talking about him?

GIRL

How should I know?

BOY

I hope he can’t.

GIRL

I bet he can. I bet if he could move
he’d strangle us.

BOY

Shut up!

GIRL

Shhhhhh!

(Pause.)

 

BOY

I think he knows we’re here.

(Long silence. Footsteps heard faintly
beyond the door, then keys rattling, the key fumbling in the lock. They stare
at the door, then at the man, then at door again. WOMAN enters with extreme
caution and stealth, peeking in first; still with the fixed smile.)

 

BOY

Mom!

(The BOY scurries from beneath the table
and, kneeling, hugs her legs, whimpering.)

 

WOMAN

Shhhhh!

BOY

She said you were gonna kill me.

WOMAN

Who?

GIRL

Did not. Liar pants.

WOMAN

Sh, sh, sh, sh, shhhhhh.

BOY

Can we go outside?

WOMAN

What for?

BOY

Can we?

WOMAN

Noooooo.

BOY

Please?

WOMAN

No, honeylamb. ‘ve told you, there’s
all kinds of trains and cars and buses that’ll run you over and squish you and
men with sharp knives and ugly crazy people just looking to kidnap little boys
like you and take you home so they can make you do awful things in their
bathrooms. Haven’t I told you that?

(The BOY nods.)

Now we don’t want that, do we?

(The BOY shakes his head–still hugging
her legs, now burying his face in them.)

Now let Mommy go, honeylamb.

(The BOY shakes his head–still buried in
her legs.)

If you let Mommy go, Mommy might let you
watch some TV later.

GIRL

With the sound on?!

WOMAN

Shhhh!

(WOMAN stares anxiously–but still
smiling–at MAN in chair. Pause.)

No, honey, now ‘ve told you it’s too
loud, it disturbs Daddy. Daddy’s trying to work, he needs peace and quiet.

GIRL

I know.

WOMAN

Did he say anything today?

GIRL

No.

(WOMAN looks down at BOY, who looks up at
her, shakes his head, buries it.)

 

WOMAN

Hm. Well, he must be concentrating very,
very hard then. We should be quiet and let him think, O.K.?

GIRL

Can we watch TV???

WOMAN

If you’re reeeeally quiet, and reeeeally
good, then we’ll see. O.K.?

GIRL

O.K.

WOMAN

Now, who’s hungry.

BOY

I am! I am!

GIRL

Shhhh!

WOMAN

(To both:)

Shhhhh! Now if you’re not good,
nobody’ll be eating anything.

BOY

(Whispering almost inaudibly:) Can we go to McDonald’s?

GIRL

Can we?

WOMAN

Nooooo. Mom’s gonna make you a nice
hotdish. And then we can eat right here at home, where it’s nice and peaceful.

(GIRL crosses her arms and huffs. BOY
mopes. MOTHER goes into another room.)

Scene 5

WOMAN

It’s going to be magnificent!

GIRL

What’s it going to be?

WOMAN

Who knows?: An epic poem, a painting, a manifesto maybe–

BOY

A manifesto!

WOMAN

Who knows?

GIRL

When?

WOMAN

Who knows?

BOY
Oh, I can’t wait!

 

WOMAN

You must.

BOY

I can’t.

GIRL

I can’t either!

WOMAN

I can’t either. But we must. His opus: that’s what it’s going to be. All
his greatness will come out. An opus.

BOY

& GIRL

(In reverent awe:)

An opus!

Scene 6

GIRL

Why doesn’t he speak?

BOY

He’s saving his strength.

WOMAN

Yes, he’s saving himself. He’s going to save us all.

GIRL

When?

WOMAN

Who knows.

BOY

Can’t we ask him?

WOMAN

We can’t disturb him.

GIRL

I think he’s already disturbed.

WOMAN

Then we must stop. We must be quiet. Absolutely silent, and invisible.

GIRL

Can’t we help him?

WOMAN

You can’t rush these things, now. These things take time. All the time in
the world, sometimes.

BOY

Do we have that long?

WOMAN

Sure we do. It’ll all be worth the wait. Trust me. Trust your dear mother.

GIRL

Maybe if we pay him.

WOMAN

Oh no, he can’t be bribed, that won’t work.

BOY

Maybe we could prod and poke him.

GIRL

Idiot.

BOY

Well maybe if we kissed and hugged him and showed we loved him.

GIRL

Don’t you dare!

WOMAN

Oh no, no no, he doesn’t like to be touched. If there’s one thing he can’t
stand it’s to be touched. Or looked at, or–Stop looking at him! What did I
just say? . . . We’re being too loud. We have to be quiet.

BOY

Oh no . . .

WOMAN

What is it?

BOY

Oh, oh, uh oh, I think . . .

WOMAN

What? What is it? Tell me calmly and quietly.

GIRL

(Terrified:) I think he’s going to sneeze!

WOMAN

Oh no, no, you mustn’t!

(Boy continues trying to stifle a
sneeze.)

GIRL

Get him out of here!

WOMAN

Come on, let’s go into the kitchen. Hurry now, come on. But quietly.

(Woman nudges boy into kitchen, girl
pushing him along.)

GIRL

Get goin, nut ball. You’re gonna ruin everything.

Scene 7

(Girls coughs. In whispers:)

BOY

Stop that! Don’t do that!

(They both look anxiously at man.)

BOY

What’s the matter with you.

GIRL

My throat hurts. I can’t help it.

BOY

Well you better start helping it.

(Girls coughs.)

BOY

Are you nuts?! What are you trying to do?!

GIRL

‘m sorry! Really!

BOY

Eat a cough drop! Something!

(Woman enters hurriedly. Still in
whispers:)

WOMAN

Shhhh! What’s going on? What’s all the racket?

BOY

It’s her. She’s the one.

GIRL

‘m sorry! (Coughs.)

WOMAN

Oh my Word! Oh no, no you mustn’t, you can’t!

(Girls continues to cough.)

WOMAN

Are you sick? Oh no, you can’t be sick. This is terrible.

BOY

She won’t stop. I told her.

WOMAN

Come on. Let’s go out.

BOY

She gets to go outside? No way! No fair!

WOMAN

No, we’re just going to take her to her room now. Come on.

(Hurriedly pushing girl out.)

WOMAN

You’ll just have to stay in here for a while. Just until you’re better.

Scene 8

(Boy and girl a few years older. Still
in whispers, except when shouting [indicated by capitals].)

GIRL

I jammed a scissors into his leg.

BOY

What on earth did you do that for?

GIRL

He didn’t move.

BOY

He’s thinking! He’s concentrating!

GIRL

I think he’s dead.

BOY

‘m gonna tell mom.

GIRL

He smells funny. Like old eggs.

BOY

So what. Hygiene is a distraction, don’t you see? You’re so
bourgeois sometimes.

GIRL

No no NO!

BOY

SHHHH!

GIRL

I mean, ‘m saying, I really think he’s dead.

BOY

Don’t you say that. Don’t you ever say that! Don’t you EVER, SAY
THAT, EVER, AGAIN!

GIRL

SHHHHHHHHHHH! Are you nuts? Be quiet, be quiet, be quiet!

(Pause.)

BOY

Sorry.

GIRL

Well you ought to be.

BOY

See! You see! You don’t really think he’s dead.

(Pause.)

GIRL

It’s still in there.

BOY

What?

GIRL

The scissors. It’s right there.

BOY

(Gasps.) Oh! Oh God. (Doesn’t know whether to pull it out or not.
Stares at it, wincing.)

GIRL

See what I mean?

BOY

He must be concentrating really hard.

Scene 9

(The same chair. The same man, only much
older. Long white hair and beard. Same clothes, same position. Still in
whispers:)

GIRL

I can’t take this. I don’t know how much longer this can go on.

BOY

Shh. We have to be patient. Can’t you be quiet?

GIRL

I could just scream, I just want to scream, ‘m going to scream–

BOY

(Hissing:) Are you crazy?

GIRL

I can’t help it, I can’t take it, ‘m going to–

BOY

Are you out of your everloving mind?

(Girl moans softly, like some kind of
animal. Boy puts hand over her mouth.)

BOY

You’ve lost your mind!

(Gradually girl’s moan dies off. Pause.
She begins to giggle uncontrollably beneath his hand.)

BOY

What’s the matter with you?

GIRL

(Giggling:) I was just thinking . . .

BOY

Shhhhhh.

GIRL

I was just thinking, what if we laughed? We’ve never laughed. What
if we, what would happen if we–

BOY

(Smothering her with both hands, glancing over his shoulder
apprehensively at man:) Stop it you lunatic. We can’t. And we’re not going
to. Are we.

(Girl giggles beneath his hand.)

BOY

(More fiercely:) Are we!

(Girl’s laughter, still subdued but more
uncontrollable, maniacal.)

BOY

ARE WE!

(Girl puts her hands over boy’s mouth;
boy’s hands remain over hers. Girl’s laughter gradually dies down.)

BOY

That’s more like it. Now are you going to be sane and reasonable?

(Girl nods.)

BOY

If I take my hands away you’re not going to do anything stupid?
You’re not going to laugh?

(Girl shakes her head.)

(Boy slowly removes hands.)

BOY

You had me worried there for a minute.

GIRL

(Now solemn and sad, distant:) I was just thinking, that’s all.

BOY

Well that was not funny.

GIRL

No. I don’t know what came over me.

Scene 10

BOY

Shhh! Listen!

(The man begins to mutter in a harsh,
choked manner, barely audible.)

GIRL

I hear it!

BOY

Do you hear it?!

GIRL

I said I hear it, didn’t I?

BOY

Look! Look at that!

(The man begins to twitch very slightly.
He seems to be trying to speak, but choking on the words, suffocating, his
throat blocked.)

(They scrutinize him. His twitching
grows more frantic, the struggle to excavate the words clogging his being grows
more tortured. Then he stops. Motionless as before.)

(Boy and girl look at each other.)

Scene 11

WOMAN

His vocal chords have atrophied. Over the years. The interminable years.

GIRL

If only he’d . . . exercised them once or twice.

BOY

If only he’d greeted us, or even scolded us.

GIRL

If only he’d laughed.

BOY

Or cried.

GIRL

Did you ever hear him laugh?

WOMAN

No.

BOY

Or cry?

GIRL

No. Never.

BOY

Me either.

WOMAN

I think I did . . . once . . . I can’t remember . . .

BOY

I think he’s always wanted to speak, but . . . maybe he finished it
a long time ago, only he just couldn’t . . .

GIRL

Of course he couldn’t. Look at him.

BOY

But maybe . . . if only . . . if only . . .

Scene 12

DOCTOR:
(Covering his mouth and nose with a handkerchief.) How long has he been like
this?

GIRL

Always.

BOY

Yes, always.

DOCTOR:
But that can’t be. . . .

(Woman enters.)

WOMAN

Who is this? (Pause.) Well, somebody tell me who this is.

(Boy and girl look at floor.)

DOCTOR:
‘m a doctor, ma’am.

WOMAN

Well there’s no one sick here. Please, if you don’t mind . . .

DOCTOR:
I was called, I–

WOMAN

Please, keep your voice down. Really, I don’t want to be rude, but we can’t
have visitors. It’s bad enough the three of us being here, but if–

DOCTOR:
(Still covering his mouth. Softly:) Are you aware that this man–

WOMAN

(Whispering:) Please, doctor, not so loud. You’ll disturb him.

DOCTOR:
(In a still quieter tone:) But this man is dead.

WOMAN

(Whispering:) Nonsense. Are you a real doctor?

DOCTOR:
(Holding out man’s wrist [still in soft tone, just above a whisper]:) See for
yourself. There’s no pulse. He’s–

WOMAN

Please, doctor, don’t do that, don’t touch him, he doesn’t like to be
touched. And there’s no need to raise your voice.

DOCTOR:
(Whispering:) He’s cold as an oyster. He’s already begun to . . . to
decompose.

WOMAN

He’s composing it all before-hand, in his head. It’s all in his head. He’s
only in a state of very deep concentration. He’s composing his opus.

DOCTOR:
I don’t think you quite understand.

WOMAN

I don’t think you understand. He’s going to save us all. Any day now, he’s
going to finish it.

DOCTOR:
That’s all very well, but–

WOMAN

And when he does, when he speaks, ‘ll be ready with pen and pad to take down
every word. And then–

DOCTOR:
Look, ‘m afraid this can’t go on. You simply can’t– . . He’s going to have
to go.

WOMAN

What do you mean? Go where? This is his home, you can’t–

DOCTOR:
This is highly unprecedented–though ‘m not sure it’s against the law, but at
any rate the smell alone will arouse suspicion. You’ll be evicted and I
guarantee there will be–

WOMAN

(Hissing:) Doctor, please! Must you speak so loudly?!

DOCTOR:
(Whispering:) Well there will be a fiasco is what there’ll be. ‘m sorry,
but there’s no choice.

WOMAN

Get out.

DOCTOR:
Madam, I–

WOMAN

Get, out! Now! You’ll interrupt his train of thought and then there’s no
telling . . . he may never get back on track. There’s just no telling . . .
Just go and don’t come back.

(Pause. Resignedly, doctor leaves.)

(Woman stares angrily at girl, shakes her
head.)

WOMAN

What have I told you about using the phone young lady?

GIRL

But–

WOMAN

It won’t happen again, now will it. No. I know it won’t because ‘m
throwing it away. Why do think it was unplugged, hmmm? Do you know what might
have happened? Can you imagine what would have happened if someone had called,
if that phone had rung right in the middle of . . . Ooh, I just don’t know
what gets into you sometimes. Go to your room and stay there and for God’s
sake be quiet! (As girl leaves:) There’s just no telling . . .

Scene 13

*Note on set change: Rather than have
the man rise and walk off stage, the chair should be wheeled out with him on
it, and then returned empty.

(The same chair, in same position. On it
sits a brain in a jar. Complete silence. Whispering:)

WOMAN

Some day . . . Some day it’ll be finished. . . .

OR:

(Empty chair in same position, still dark
and silent. Whispers:)

BOY

Now what? Mom? What now? Who’s going to save us?

WOMAN

Your father. He’ll save us. He’ll finish it. You wait and see.

GIRL

What do you mean? He’s gone. He’s not here. Look.

(They all look at chair.)

WOMAN

Ah. But he’s in Heaven, don’t you see?: he’s in heaven right now, working
on his opus. And some day . . . Some day . . .

OR:

BOY

Now what? Mom? What now? Who’s going to save us?

WOMAN

What do you mean?

BOY

He never finished it. He couldn’t tell us. And now . . .

WOMAN

There’s still time. He’ll finish it. Just be quiet, O.K.? Let’s just be
very quiet so as not to disturb him.

GIRL

Disturb who? What do you mean?

WOMAN

What do you mean?

GIRL

Mom, you . . . Don’t you see, . . .

WOMAN

Don’t worry. It won’t be long now.

BOY

But . . . but he’s gone, Mom. He’s gone. He’s not here. Look.

WOMAN

Are you all right? Do you have a fever? Are you . . .

BOY

Mom, look: it’s empty.

WOMAN

I think you need to go lie down.

BOY

No, Mom, look. (Goes to chair, begins to sit in it.)

WOMAN

Nooooo! What are you doing?! Don’t do that, don’t touch him, don’t interrupt
him! He doesn’t like that! He doesn’t like it when you touch him! You’re
going to–

BOY

(Stopped sitting when she screamed.) All right, Mom, all right. ‘m
sorry.

WOMAN

(Sighs with relief.) You’re trying to give me a heart attack. You’re trying
to kill your dear old mother.

BOY

No, Mom, I wasn’t–I just wanted to . . .

WOMAN

Let’s just be quiet now, hmm?

BOY

All right. (Pause.) ‘m going to go lie down.

WOMAN

Yes, you do that. Try not to snore too loudly, hmm?

BOY

O.K., Mom. ‘ll be quiet. From now on.

WOMAN

That’s good. You’re a good boy.

BOY

I know, Mom.

WOMAN

Good night.

BOY

Good night, Mom. ‘ll see you in the morning.

WOMAN

All right. But don’t set your alarm clock!

BOY

No. I won’t.

WOMAN

‘ll get you up.

BOY

All right. Good night.

WOMAN

Good night.

(Girl stares at chair, then at woman,
then at chair.)

(Silence.)

(Fade.)

*To whom it may concern: of the three, I
consider the last to be superior.