Fifty Contemporary One-Act Plays Part 174

CAREN. What do you mean by that?

KRAIG. Nothing! [_A pause, then bitterly._] Oh there's one joy down here. You can burrow and hide like a rat from it all. The d.a.m.n carriages don't roll by before your eyes. The women don't!... Oh, those women, how I hate them. Their silks, their jewels, their soft white skins. Fed!

Clothed! Housed!... [_Clenching his fists._] While Martha starves! Oh, G.o.d! They drive by laughing and I could choke them! Listen what happened. [_He comes closer to Caren and speaks fanatically._] Yesterday in the park I stood there ... s.h.i.+vering ... wondering! And all at once the mad hate came into my heart and I felt that I could kill. [_Caren looks alarmed._] And then.... Ha ... ha ... ha! Then.... The King....

The King drove by. [_Laughing bitterly, and with a great flourish._] And off came my hat! [_Making fun of himself._] My hat came off my head, Old Man, and I bowed and cringed [_vehemently_] WITH THE HATE IN MY HEART. I could have torn the warm furs from his throat and wrapped my fingers in their place [_his hands clench spasmodically_]. Ugh!

CAREN [_thoroughly alarmed_]. Hush.... Hus.h.!.+ You mustn't talk so of our King. A nice young boy he is.

KRAIG. Oh the hate ... the hate. Perhaps it will leave me here in this hall of the dead. [_Glancing about._] It all seems so level here. So level.

CAREN [_with the first faint touch of sympathy_]. You're right. Here's the one spot on earth where you get fair play. That's what I like. There ain't no rich and there ain't no poor. And there ain't no cla.s.s nor nothing. Every man gets a square deal here ... a square deal.

KRAIG. Perhaps that's worth dying for--a square deal.

CAREN. Dying ... bah! Wait until you've seen a few more of them slung on the slabs. You'll lose your longing for death. I'm an old man, but....

KRAIG. If only I can see more of it. If only I can bear it.

CAREN. The pay's not bad?

KRAIG. It would be bad at any price.

CAREN [_shaking his finger childishly_]. Tut ... tut! We're fair here ... fair. There ain't no flowers ... he ... he ... he ... and there ain't no song [_he chuckles_], but....

KRAIG [_with intense pa.s.sion, pacing to and fro, and never pausing, while he speaks very rapidly_]. If only the living could have what is spent on the dead. All the waste ... the hateful waste. Flowers wilting in dead hands. Stones weighing down dead hearts. While living bodies famish and living eyes burn for the sight of beauty. Oh, I wonder the dead don't scream out at our madness. I wonder the graves don't burst with the pain of it all.

CAREN. Have they shut me up with a maniac? Have you gone stark out of your mind?

[_There is a loud knocking on the door, to the right._]

CAREN [_opens it a crack and peeps out cautiously_]. What do you want?

VOICE. Let me in.

CAREN. Get away.

VOICE [_piteously, clamoring_]. Let me look once ... just once.

CAREN [_harshly_]. Got a pa.s.s?

VOICE. No ... no. Oh, let me in.

CAREN [_bangs the door shut_]. Get away.

VOICE [_brokenly_]. Let me look once ... just once. [_Caren opens the door a crack._] Are there any ... women?

CAREN. Women? Of course, there's women ... always women. What is it you've craving? The sight of the beauties or the smell of their stinking flesh? Go on ... get out. This isn't a bawdy house. [_He slams the door to and walks away._]

KRAIG. What is it he wants?

CAREN. A peep at the stiffs. Probably looking for his girl. [_He pa.s.ses out of sight, behind the black curtain._]

KRAIG. Oh! [_Cautiously he peeps after Caren, then opens the door a crack and calls in a whisper_]. Man!... You can see the new ones through the panel there. Lift up the curtain. There's two. A blond haired girl and a boy. [_He turns swiftly as the curtains part and Caren reenters. Softly he shuts the door, then stands watching into the hallway through a gla.s.s part.i.tion._] Poor soul!

CAREN [_mumbles as he returns_]. There's something queer about that last young stiff.

KRAIG. Number thirteen?

CAREN. Yes, number thirteen. You may have been right after all. Perhaps it wasn't fair play to put him in the river. There's some mystery ...

something wrong. [_t.i.ttering._] He ... he ... he! Not number thirteen for nothing.

KRAIG [_watching outside_]. How do you know there's anything wrong?

CAREN. That's telling, Sonny. [_With deep meaning._] But you get wise quick ... looking at the dead.

KRAIG. Ugh!

CAREN. People are telephoning and messengers are on the way. Pah ...

things like this are a nuisance. They keep one late. What are you watching?

KRAIG. That man who was here at the door. He doesn't go away. I wonder what keeps him here.

CAREN. Conscience! Scared to death he'll find his girl. Afraid not to look for her.

KRAIG. You mean?...

CAREN. Oh, there's just two things drives people into the water. The men ... 'cause they've got too little inside 'em.... The women....

KRAIG [_furious_]. Stop!

CAREN [_alarmed, yet brazen ... scratching his head_]. He ... he ... he!

Pretty clever little joke. He ... he!

[_Kraig begins to pace the room, his hands pressed to his temples._]

CAREN. I must tell that to the boys inside. [_He starts to go._] Pretty clever little joke!...

KRAIG [_watching, excitedly_]. There's something wrong with the fellow.

I'd better see.

CAREN [_pausing_]. You'd better shut your eyes and see nothing.

KRAIG. He is staggering.

CAREN. Let him stagger.

KRAIG. He may be ill. He may be--starving.

CAREN. He's come to a good place to lose his appet.i.te.