WILLIAM

  Ms. Willoughby…I want to remind you that one of your students is in the room.

  ANN-MARIE

  (Very upset and animated.)

  No, you have to listen to me! Both of you! I dreamt last night…

  WILLIAM

  Ann-Marie…

  ANN-MARIE

  …that I gave birth, but instead of a baby, the doctor handed me a fish, just like the one in Mr. Wulf’s fish store yesterday except it was alive…and I shrieked, and threw it across the room…and it landed on the floor and flapped and flapped. I wanted to pick it up…it was so helpless…(crying) …it was mine…I knew it…but I just couldn’t touch it … it was all alone on the hospital floor, flapping…until…(sobbing uncontrollably)

  WILLIAM

  (loudly and sternly)

  Ms. Willoughby, that’s enough! I want you to pull yourself together. You’re being totally inappropriate. Any more, and I’m going to have to bring disciplinary action against you.

  ANN-MARIE

  (still sobbing and walking over to John with arms extended)

  Please, John…please, it’ll be ok—my having a baby…really it will. I can take care of both of you…

  JOHN

  (shrieks)

  Stay away from me!

  WILLIAM

  Ms. Willoughby, when I tell you that’s enough, that’s enough! This craziness has to stop! (pause—in calm voice) John, obviously you caught Ms. Willoughby at a very bad moment. Sometimes in life we get emotional, and we don’t know what we’re saying. That’s what just happened to Ms. Willoughby. Now, I want you to pay attention to what I’m about to say and try to understand. All of us, even you, have emotional reactions to life events, and sometimes we cease to be…rational. Like…like your thinking that I’m the father of Ms. Willoughby’s…child. That’s a wonderful example. Since it happens to all of us, in situations like this, we all have to learn the best strategy is to try to calm ourselves and move on. Calm ourselves and move on. Take those words in. Calm yourself and move on. Someday, I’m sure you’ll remember that we had this talk.

  Ms. Willoughby, you, too, have to calm yourself and move on. We’ve had this talk before, haven’t we? Remember what I said last time…if you can’t calm yourself, then everyone gets hurt …everyone. It’s just not worth it.

  Now I want both of you to pull yourself together and go back to the classroom. Ms. Willoughby, you’re a wonderful teacher, one of the best in the school. I don’t want your class to be without you for a moment longer. And you go back to class, too, John. You’re truly blessed to have a passionate person like Ms. Willoughby as a teacher. What I want most for you is to learn, learn, learn.

  JOHN

  (John looks up at William)

  I know you’re the father.

  (leaves)

  WILLIAM

  (shaking his head)

  Christ, he really has followed you everywhere…

  (pause)

  I tried. I didn’t know he was this crazy. Obviously, he can’t stay here. I can’t have a student stalking any of my teachers. I’m going to look into a special needs school for him. And as for you, Ms. Willoughby—I’m going to forget about your unfortunate outburst this morning. Please pull yourself together, and go back to your class.

  ANN-MARIE

  (whispers)

  Bill, please, just for a minute, I need to talk to you about our baby…

  WILLIAM

  (quietly and calmly)

  Not our baby, Ms. Willoughby, your baby. You made the choice to keep it. You have to live with that choice.

 

  ANN-MARIE

  But what if he needs you?

 

  WILLIAM

  He…

  (long pause, looking out the window)

  He will never know I’m his father. Your class is waiting for you. Go…

  ANN-MARIE

  (walks to doorway, then stops)

  Bill, you can’t throw John out for discovering the truth…for God’s sake, this is a school…that’s what schools are for! Learn, learn, learn…you said it yourself! And he’s got no one else in the world but me!

  .

  (Ann-Marie waits for an answer, but she sees she will not get one. She leaves.)

  WILLIAM

  (sits down at his desk, puts hands over face for a moment, shakes his head and mutters)

  Bluefish…

  THE END

  ROOM WITH MAINTENANCE

  A Ten Minute Play in One Act

  By Richard Grossman

  “Have a goal for your whole life...a goal for every month, a goal for every week, a goal for every day, a goal for every hour and for every minute..."

  from Tolstoy's "Ten Rules of Life"

  Cast of Characters

  Harold: Man in his 60’s in bed dressed in pajamas

  Frank: Man in his 60’s dressed in blue jeans and button down shirt

  Angelo: Man in his 20’s dressed in overalls

  SETTING: Room with bathroom behind screen.

  TIME: Present

  AT RISE: Harold is in bed, moaning. Frank is pacing around the boundaries of the room. “You Do Something to Me” sung by Ella Fitzgerald is playing from no apparent source in the background.

  HAROLD

  What a trip!

  FRANK

  I told you before, if you die one moment, and the next moment you find yourself here, I don’t consider that a trip. And you’ve been whining about it for three days straight.

  HAROLD

  But my leg…it’s throbbing, and it’s even bigger now! I’m telling you, travel makes it worse…

  FRANK

  (aggravated)

  If you didn’t see anything go by your window, you didn’t travel.

  HAROLD

  But we’re in heaven, right? Please say we’re in heaven.

  FRANK

  How should I know? Would someone please turn the fuckin’ music off! I can’t take it any more!

  (sound of finger snap from behind screen--music goes off)

  FRANK

  (look of surprise)

  Thank God!

  (continues to walk around room looking for exit)

  There’s got to be a way out of here…

  HAROLD

  (moans)

  You know, I always dreamed that when I died, my roommate in heaven would be a doctor. You’re sure you’re not a doctor?

  FRANK

  What? So that I could take care of you? I told you I’m a…I was a carpenter. And a damn good one.

  HAROLD

  (dejectedly)

  So, I’m going to spend eternity with a carpenter…

  FRANK

  And apparently I’m going to spend eternity with a lazy-ass whiner.

  HAROLD

  Did anyone ever tell you, one, that you lack empathy and two, that you’re crude?

  FRANK

  Oh, please…after three days of being locked in a room with you, who do you expect me to be, Mr. Rogers?

  HAROLD

  (moans, and looks under cover at leg)

  See! You said those terrible things, and my leg just got bigger.

  FRANK

  Poor thing. You know what? I need to take a shit.

  (stops at bathroom entrance)

  Actually, my ex-wife used to tell me, one, that I lacked empathy and two, that I was crude. Those words exactly. But guess what: she was a lazy-ass whiner just like you. That’s why I divorced her.

  HAROLD

  (to himself)

  And my wife used to call me a lazy-ass whiner…that’s why she divorced me! I must be in Hell! I must be! What did I do wrong?

  (moans loudly again)

  What did I do wrong?

  FRANK

  (from the bathroom)

  Would you please stop? How do you expect me to cut one loose listening to that?

  (comes out, pulling up p
ants)

  Christ! Can you believe it? The toilet is completely backed up…

  HAROLD

  (panicked)

  The toilet’s backed up? In Heaven?

  (mood suddenly brightens)

  Wait a second! I got it! That’s why you’re here! Right? To fix things! In case they break.

  FRANK

  Did I say I was a fucking plumber? I’m a carpenter. I never touch anything with running water.

  HAROLD

  That settles it then. We’re in Hell.

  (Harold pulls covers over his head. Angelo enters from the bathroom carrying a plunger in one hand, and a handsaw in the other)

  ANGELO

  Did someone call for maintenance?

  HAROLD

  (looks from under covers)

  Who are you?

  ANGELO

  I’m Angelo, the maintenance man.

  (Lays handsaw on the table)

  FRANK

  Angelo, the maintenance man…

  ANGELO

  That’s right. You’re in a room with maintenance.

  FRANK

  Wait a second, how’d you get in?

  ANGELO

  I’ve been here the whole time.

  FRANK

  What kind of bullshit is that? We’d have seen you.

  ANGELO

  I stay out of the way.

  HAROLD

  And you’re here to fix the toilet?

  ANGELO

  I fix whatever needs fixing.

  HAROLD

  Thank God!.......You’re not God are you?

  ANGELO

  No, I’m Angelo the maintenance man.

  HAROLD

  But can you tell me where we are? Are we in Heaven?

  ANGELO

  (as if read from a manual)

  There is no Heaven. There are rooms with maintenance, and rooms without maintenance. You’re in a room with maintenance.

  FRANK

  OK then Mr. Maintenance Man, I don’t suppose you can tell me how I can get the hell out of here?

  ANGELO

  You wouldn’t want to do that.

  FRANK

  Why not?

  ANGELO

  Because you might end up in a room without maintenance.

  FRANK

  (slaps himself in the head)

  Apparently, I’m living with a whiner and a simpleton…

  HAROLD

  My leg! I can’t stand it!

  FRANK

  What? What can’t you stand?

  HAROLD

  Now you’re insulting him! Did it ever cross your mind that maybe there’s something wrong …maybe he’s

  (whispers)

  mentally challenged?

  FRANK

  So what?

  HAROLD

  Do you think by insulting him, you’re making things any better? Maybe a little kindness and empathy would help.

  FRANK

  Maybe if I slapped him around a little bit, he’d tell us something useful.

  HAROLD

  (moans)

  There, you’ve done it again. Look!

  (uncovers giant leg).

  FRANK

  (to Angelo who is staring at Harold’s leg)

  Would you please stop staring at him and fix the fucking toilet. Can’t you see I’m about to drop a load in my pants!

  (Angelo goes into the bathroom and starts plunging)

  HAROLD

  (turns his head towards Angelo in bathroom)

  Angelo, may I talk to you? I just wanted to tell you how much I’ve suffered in life. In case you could pass that on to someone who, you know, could do something about it. I think you know whom I mean. And please tell him…although I assume he knows this already…tell him it all goes to my right leg. First it throbs and then it gets bigger. And tell him I think I should be placed with, you know, someone who at least has some empathy…some understanding …

  (plunging stops for a second. Both Harold and Frank look expectantly towards the bathroom.)

  ANGELO

  (as if read from a manual)

  In rooms with maintenance, the occupants are perfectly matched. This makes the job of maintenance man much easier.

  (plunging starts again)

  HAROLD

  But there must be some mistake…I mean maybe someone wrote down the wrong room number. That’s possible, isn’t it? It happens. And if not, maybe I could file an appeal? Someone could take a look in on us and see that things aren’t quite right?

  (holds finger up to mouth, quietly)

  You know, if I could have a little input into this matter, I’d really like a doctor. Or if that’s not possible, maybe a classics professor—you know, given all the time I’ll have to read.

  FRANK

  What are you whining about now? Didn’t I tell you he’s a simpleton?

  (Sound of toilet flushing)

  FRANK and HAROLD

  (together)

  Thank God!

  (Angelo comes out of bathroom holding plunger)

  HAROLD

  May I ask you a question? What happened to Heaven?

  ANGELO

  (as if read from a textbook)

  Heaven ended in the Middle Ages. Researchers found that people who always had what they wanted quickly got bored. All they did was sleep and eat. Rooms with maintenance work much better.

  FRANK

  Really? And what about Hell?

  ANGELO

  Hell is a room without maintenance. You should see what it’s like after 30 years.

  FRANK

  Why am I wasting my time with this moron?

  HAROLD

  Don’t call him that!

  FRANK

  (with mock gratitude)

  O.K. Thank you, Angelo, for fixing the toilet. Now, would you just fucking disappear?

  ANGELO

  We’re not finished.

  HAROLD

  What do you mean?

  (Angelo hands Frank the saw from the table)

  FRANK

  What am I supposed to do with this?

  ANGELO

  In rooms with maintenance, the occupants are perfectly matched. This makes the job of maintenance man much easier.

  FRANK

  What are you babbling about?

  (Angelo quickly sets up a privacy screen in front of Harold’s bed, and stands with back to screen, facing audience)

  HAROLD

  (suddenly)

  What???? No! No! You can’t do that! I thought this was heaven! I thought you were an angel!

  ANGELO

  I’m Angelo the maintenance man. You’re in a room with maintenance.

  HAROLD

  Oh my god, this can’t be happening! This isn’t heaven, this is fucking hell!

  FRANK

  (finally getting it and laughing excitedly as he approaches Harold)

  What? Holy shit! You must be kidding me. You know, I’ve wanted to do something like this my whole life. My whole life! This isn’t Hell…this is fucking Heaven!

  HAROLD

  No! No! You can’t…you can’t!

  (Frank starts sawing Harold’s leg—sound of sawing, slow at first)

  Owwwwwwww!...Owwwww!...Owww!...Ow!...Ow?...Ow?

  FRANK

  I’m gonna saw that… fucking… lazy-ass… whiner… off!

  (Angelo pulls a sandwich from his overall pocket and still standing in front of the screen, nonchalantly starts to eat it. Sawing gets faster and faster, then Harold’s “ow?” turns into)

 

  HAROLD

  Wow?...Wow!...Wow!!!...Harder…..harder…..faster….faster….!

  (Frank saws and grunts faster and faster)

  FRANK

  I’m almost there…I’m almost there…!

  HAROLD

  Do it to me!...Do it to me!...

  FRANK

  (sawing suddenly stops)

/>   OK, I’m gonna pull it…!

  (straining sounds followed by orgasmic sounds from both Harold and Frank, and then a loud crack. Frank steps from behind screen with bloody giant leg on his shoulder and bloody saw in hand. Angelo removes screen. Angelo takes saw from Frank and wipes it clean.)

  HAROLD

  Wow! That was amazing! I’ve never experienced anything like it! Do you know, for the first time in my life I don’t feel any pain? None at all!

  FRANK

  Yup. That was fuckin’ great! I tell you, the moment it broke loose…

  (pumps right hand and shoulder back and forth a few times as if sawing)

  I really haven’t lost anything, have I?

  HAROLD

  No, you haven’t. You know, I think we’re going to get along after all.

  ANGELO

  (satisfied that his work is finished)

  I’m gonna go now.

  (Angelo starts going towards the bathroom with both plunger and saw in one hand)

  FRANK

  (leaning bloody leg against the bed)

  Hey Angelo! Forget what I said earlier: you’re the man!

  (Angelo is almost out of sight, raises other hand to snap fingers)

  HAROLD

  Wait a second! I’m feeling some throbbing where my right leg used to be.

  (looks under covers)

  I think it’s growing back!