J O S H U A    M A R I E    W I L K I N S O N
__________________________________________________________

THE TRAPDOOR (A PLAY IN ONE ACT)

 

 

Characters

MARTIN, a man in his early thirties, in black tie
SHORE, a man in his early thirties, in red tie
INSPECTOR (Carol Blighting), a man in his fifties, in grey suit
BOY, (Roy) a child of about nine, in overalls
GERALDINE, a woman in her sixties, in robe and nightgown
2 ND INSPECTOR (Marko Solomon), a man in his forties, in grey suit

 

Act 1 Scene 1

The living room of an apartment in late morning. A couch in the center of the room. A card table with three chairs next to the couch. Kitchen door up left. Door out to the hall at right Two young men, MARTIN and SHORE, are seated in a room playing cards as the curtain comes up.

MARTIN: What if….what if it was Phoebe? What if Phoebe walked right through the door?

SHORE: (drawing cards) Couldn't be. She's been in Paraguay or something…

MARTIN: Just, what if?

SHORE: There is no “what if.” It's impossible, Martin. There has to be at least a remote possibility in order to entertain the idea.

MARTIN: There's always a remote possibility. That's what remote means, Shore.

SHORE: Ok, plausible or substantial.

MARTIN: What are you, Shore, a banker? Ok, ok, fine. What if it was Maggie Mealing? Just walked through the door—

SHORE: She was killed in that plane crash. That's not funny. You don't—

MARTIN: (interrupting) Did you hear that?

SHORE: Hear what?

Strange crash offstage, voices, a heavy laughter, a big yes! a few claps and then silence.

MARTIN: No clue.

SHORE: Did you know that a lot of these buildings in Johnston City have secret compartments—like trapdoors?

MARTIN: Where'd you hear that?

SHORE: Something from the war. Bomb shelters. They found the skeleton of a woman in one.

       Bigger crash offstage. MARTIN shuffles cards.

MARTIN: You getting hungry? My mom's been out at the barns…

SHORE: They managed to pull her out in one piece. This perfect skeleton. But they figured out that the neighborhood kids had been coming in there—nesting in there like rats.

MARTIN: Did they stink it all up? Why didn't I hear about this?

SHORE: You? What do you mean? You were sleeping, like usual. You were over at Betty's getting chewed out by her father for all the mud you tracked in. You were held up in a heist at the pharmacy on tenth street. How should I know where you were? Fuck…

MARTIN: Ok, Jesus, Shore. How'd they know it was an old lady? I mean, if it was just a skeleton-like?

SHORE: It must've had a dress on. Or a woman's shoes.

      They exchange an awkward look; MARTIN makes a strange gesture with his hand, SHORE smiles,
      and they resume playing cards.

MARTIN: Ok, ok. What would you do if…if…Emily Crane walked right through the door?

SHORE: I heard they found one up on the sixth floor here. You know that flat where that guy with the beard whose always carrying sleeping bags full of stuff in and out—

MARTIN: But what about the kids in that lady's—trapdoor? Did they stink it up? Did they live in there?

SHORE: Listen, man, I don't know. I heard—I read it in the Empire—that they found this curled up little…uhhh…monkey.

MARTIN: Monkey? Alive?

SHORE: No! Dead, this rare, uhhh…dead monkey.

      More crashing and footfall, this time from above; a woman's voice, indiscernible, but angry, then silence.

SHORE: What's going on out there? (Gets up; looks through peephole) Too dark to see.
     (SHORE unlocks the door, opens it up a crack, peeks out, and gently closes it, but doesn't lock it )

MARTIN: Nothing? (Gets up; looks out into the hall, shuts the door) What about the boys? My brother once found a man hanging from the rafters of his house. He went in to collect his lawn mowing money and here's the guy, blue cuts around his neck and his penny loafer in the fish tank.

SHORE: I bet the fish loved that. Having another house.

MARTIN: You don't get it, Shore. My brother was totally traumatized. Totally cracked him.

SHORE: Your brother's a financial analyst! You're brother is fine. Why don't you traumatize me by telling me.

MARTIN: But, that's what screwed up his childhood. Telling somebody something doesn't do it. You don't see me all disturbed about the skeleton of the lady. Anyway, that's what turned him in on himself, you know.

SHORE: He's happy. He has a daughter and his wife's an actress in those weird (motions with his hands) plays where everybody wanders around in their nightgowns and talks about yesteryear.

     Knock at the door. Light pounding at first, little pause, then three loud whomps.

MARTIN: Who's there? (they both regard the door, but neither moves)

     Noise of slapping outside, muttering .

SHORE: Shhhhh!!

MARTIN: (whispering) What?

SHORE: I, uh, it's—

Enter INSPECTOR in a tie and jacket, brief case. He has the BOYwith him.

INSPECTOR: Gentleman, good day.

SHORE: Good day.

MARTIN: Hey, you can't just come in here like this! (to SHORE) Try locking the door, next time, you blockhead!

INSPECTOR: Yes. Yes, I can. I'm with the inspector's guild. Guild 11-40. Drumcondra Sector.

MARTIN and SHORE look at each other, puzzled . The BOY enters, sits at the third chair and takes off his
     shoes and socks. They just watch him stunned. MARTIN and SHORE look at the BOY and the
     INSPECTOR takes off his coat and looks around. He has a leather bag, like a doctor's bag, and sets it
     down.

MARTIN: What exactly is going on here?

SHORE: We have weapons you know—

INSPECTOR: Gentleman, my name is Inspector Blighting. (he claps twice, affirmatively)

SHORE: (claps twice)

MARTIN: (looks at SHORE) What's all the clapping? (to the INSPECTOR) What are you doing in my house?

INSPECTOR: I've come to inspect for trapdoors, old wall safes, secret compartments, revolving bookshelves. Don't worry: it should only take a few minutes—an hour tops. I have all the necessary tools. I have all the items I need right here. (pats his bag. The BOYis picking his feet at the table, his socks & shoes on the floor ). Here is my permit to search this apartment. First one of the day, gentleman. Nothing like the first search of the day. It's like a shower. Like a change of underclothes. Like a drive through the old roads in the autumn gusts. Yes, the first search…(trails off wistfully)

      BOYstands up, barefoot, on the chair and begins strange bird/flapping motions, silently.

Roy, what did I say about doing your stretches? Not on the first search of the day, little man. Don't test me, little fellow. I won't be tested again.

     BOYslumps down and starts rubbing his thighs with both hands. Muttering lowly.

     Enter GERALDINE from kitchen door.

GERALDINE: Well! (pulling her robe closed, but adjusted to leave it open around the knees)

MARTIN: Mom! Please!

GERALDINE: Well! Well! (confused, but enthusiastic)

      (the BOY continues to mutter; the INSPECTOR nods and looks around with curiosity)

Did I hear that the trapdoor inspector is here? My name is Geraldine Ranelagh. Please, call me Geraldine. Hello, young man! (regarding the BOY) what…lovely…. Do you…like… animals? Can I get you something to eat? Some sandwiches? Some tea? A deviled egg?

INSPECTOR: Hello, ma'am! (doffing an invisible hat)

(GERALDINE walks right over to the INSPECTOR and whispers something into his face )

INSPECTOR: You? Well, now that's really something Ma'am. (brushes off his calves, nervously, like the BOY)

GERALDINE: Please, call me Geraldine. (holds her mouth open just slightly)

INSPECTOR: (chuckling, confused) Will do. (slowly) Can do.

MARTIN: Look, Mr. Inspector: We haven't got any secret caverns here—so just be on your way.

BOY: (Turning to look at MARTIN) I know you. I know you have. I know how many you've got. (He stares at MARTIN's chest, slowly opening his mouth wider and wider—not in awe, just oddly, carefully.)

INSPECTOR: Whoah, Roy-boy! That's enough hassling our good man of the house. Not on the first search of the day! A deviled egg and some hot coffee would be spectacular ma'am.

Exit GERALDINE sauntering back to the kitchen, humming seductively. She looks back once and smiles,
      totally ignoring MARTIN & SHORE. Another short knock at the door. All look at one another.
      SHORE gets up and sits back down.

MARTIN: I'll get it. (opens door)

Enter 2ND INSPECTOR, with a strange fuzzy animal attached to his right arm, otherwise he's dressed
       immaculately.

2ND INSPECTOR: Hello, sir, and good day, hello. (looking around at walls, not at the men) I was looking for—ah! Carol! I found you! May I…have a word?

INSPECTOR: Hello, Marko! I've got this one. (does a quick throat cut sign with his finger)

2ND INSPECTOR: Right! Right! Good day, friends. (turns to go, and turns back) Seen any locks, old Roy-Boy?

BOY stands up on chair miming binoculars with his two hands and makes beeping sounds. 2 ND
      INSPECTOR and INSPECTOR laugh heartily. BOY slumps back down, muttering.

MARTIN: I don't know what this is about, but—who…sent you…exactly?

SHORE: Wait, Martin, wait—allow me, just for a second (SHORE makes the hand motion we saw MARTIN make earlier when they were playing cards)…now, sir, uhh, Mr. Inspector, sir. What if you do find a trapdoor in this flat? And what if, in said trapdoor, there is a booty to be had? Some riches, say—some corpses, jewels, rare species, monkeys of some kind (glancing at MARTIN) Then what? Because we rent this flat and should have…plausible and…substantial access to said booty—I mean, we could just—ahem (smiling)—ask you to leave and do the old “hunt” (makes air quotes) ourselves.

BOY: You don't have the tools, Mister Blackheart! You haven't got any tools! (quietly now, slowly) The proper tools are taped to your back, and who would reach them once your friend's arms are roped to the pipes?

INSPECTOR: Roy-boy!! That's quite enough, young man! (to the men) Gentleman, please excuse this little pugilist He's my sister's little…uh…. Roy! That'll be enough. (BOY resumes muttering and occasionally you can hear a word: “Search,” or “Lock eater” or “animals animals” or “pegleg” intermittently.)

Re-Enter GERALDINE with a tray, a tea pot and a plate of deviled eggs.

BOY: The stink is venomous! (Covering his face with his hands)

MARTIN: Gripes, mother. What sort of deviling is that?

GERALDINE: (oblivious) Now, boys, here you are. Do come in and sit down. Do take a little egg. These eggs are fresh. Fresh owl eggs from the barn owls in the county. You see I know a little hunter—Mr. Cutter—who sells them by the carton. He's a wonderful egg man.

SHORE: God, that's putrid. Like rancid…goat.

INSPECTOR: Thank you, missus. Roy-boy? You like owl pellets, right? Remember when you found that kitten claw? (looking at walls)

MARTIN: Look, so, (sitting back down in the couch with a huff ) what if you do find something down there, then what? I mean, who sent you?

BOY: That was a…was a…lynx paw! A horse hoof!! (BOY regards the eggs ) These didn't come from the owls. In fact…( trails off, muttering to himself, smiling a little )

INSPECTOR: Now Roy, just be polite. Gentleman, how can I put this ( looking all around ), how can I say this? I have the specialized tools. Gauges, thermometers, listening devices, ear pieces, small seismographs for detecting whether there might be anything worthwhile here. Not just valuables, but (whispering) items of undisclosed “value.”

GERALDINE: Oh, my late husband's tool box is around here. He was a man of chisels and files. He could crack a safe with a penlight and a small field mouse. (laughs to herself) A crafty man. Loved his scotch and soda. Loved his morning marmalade. Loved his rain and wind, and scuffing about with the lads in the trees. He was a lover, really, not a warrior like Martin. Not a sufferer like Martin's brother Charlie.

BOY: I am three people at once. There are no tools taped to me yet, but I smell the smell of rope and I know the song this rope can sing. I can sing it. I can sing it sing it, too.

INSPECTOR: Ha ha!! (awkward, agitated) Roy, you little devil. Eat your eggs, my boy. Delicious coffee! Delicious coffee, Geraldine, just—yes!

SHORE: Ok. Ok. (Carefully, regarding the BOY and the INSPECTOR) Say you find something. Say you find some treasures and a map, say you find some bodies and the key to the Mayor's vaults. Say you find just exactly whatever it is you guys are after. What about us?

INSPECTOR: (smelling his coffee) I'm not gonna pull you folks around. This is my first search of the day, and the first search is always the softest: We come by direct order of the desk of the Super ____ (indiscernible word). Starting, you see, as a clerk in his magnificent offices—well, I've worked my way up. –delicious (sniffing the egg, not eating it) eggs by the way, Miss, your husband was a fortuitous and formidable man, no doubt.

INSPECTOR (stands, brushes crumbs off, leans back down for another sip of coffee, and seems to slosh
it around in his mouth.)

(soberly, loudly) Gentleman, this is my first inquiry of the day—as I've mentioned—and I've brought the tools necessary to discover whether or not there might be a secret compartment built into this domicile. My job is a simple one, yet it requires a certain amount of cooperation. You see, without your kindness, I'm just a traveler on the old roads. The old byways…(MARTIN and SHORE look suspiciously at one another. GERALDINE regards the INSPECTOR vacantly, almost gazing through him.)

BOY: I woke up in my desk at school once. (standing up on his chair ). All the light had been pulled out of the bulbs. The hamsters were all asleep. So I stood up and removed all my clothing. That was the first thing I did. Then I began to tune my ears like a little radio—some boys at school call me Little Radio now—and when I take off my clothing, all the way down to my underpants and socks, then I open my mouth a ways. This takes many times, like a dentist's drill. My teacher says, precision. I say precision, too. On the tenth or twelfth time I open my mouth and another voice comes out. It's my voice, but it belongs, really, to somebody else. Somebody else is allowed to talk right through me, like the light in the bulbs. Like the color in the flowers. And here is what it says: Franz Kafka, I'm looking at you and holding onto your arm. You wrote the story about the machine. And now it is time to turn the machine on. Will you tell me how to turn this machine on?

Fade to black

 

 

next

 

 

[ page 1 of 5 ]