(Lights up on an apartment – it’s not eloquently furnished

(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.