NEW DOWNTOWN NOW--INTERIM

The entire scene takes place in an elevator, depicted through actor’s movements to indicate small space.

A: (enters The elevator, The door starts to close)

B: (calls out to hold it.)  Hey, hang on please. 

(A holds for him. B enters, nods thanks.  They stand in silence while it moves, looking up at The passing floor numbers.)

A: Going to the top floor?

B: Sure.  Why not?

A: (reaching for The control) Oh, sorry.  Did you want a different floor?

B: Nah.

A: Because I’m going to the top floor.

B: You look like it.

A: I beg your pardon?

B: You know, you look like you’re on your way to the top.

A: Oh.  Well...thanks.

B: Sure.

A: Do you work in this building?

B: Nope. 

A: Customer?

B: Nah.

A: Visiting a friend?

B: (snorting in disdain) No.

A: Oh. 

B: (mumbling)

A: I’m sorry, what was that?

B: I’m talking to myself.

A: Sorry. I thought you were talking to me.

B: Uh huh.

A: Did you want to talk to me?

B: You’re a nosy little bastard, aren’t you?

A: Sorry.  I just thought...

B: And apologetic.  What is that?  The millionth time in the past two minutes that you’ve said “sorry.”  A nosy, apologetic little bastard.  That’s really annoying.

A: I’m sorry....

B: Sorry...

A: I didn’t mean...

B: Are you always sorry? 

A: I just thought...

B: Never mind.

A: Fine. Okay.

B: Just shut up, okay...(A starts to speak) I mean it.

            (They stand in silence for another moment)

B: Is this the slowest elevator in the history of modern man, or is it just my imagination?

            (A gives B a sideways glance, doesn’t answer)  I’m talking to you.

A: Oh.  I, uh...

B: Never mind.  (A glances at his watch)  Nice watch.

A: (pulling down his sleeve) Uh, thanks.  My father gave it to me.

B: Isn’t that nice?  Daddy gave his boy a watch.  Sweet.  (Looking up) Did you hear that?

A: I didn’t hear anything.

B: Someone is talking.  Listen.

A: (listening) Probably just people on the floors we’re passing.  The elevator’s moving so slow the voices can seep in.

B: Seep in.(He begins to examine his hands) My hands look like they belong to someone else. (He continues to examine his hands with true interest as A watches out of The corner of his eye.  B chants to his hands in a sing song manner)  Little hands, little hands, to whom do you belong?  Why do you move in a rhythm like a song?

A: This is a slow elevator. (He pushes The floor panel button)

B: I told you.  (Relishing the words)  The voices can seep in.

A: Yeah.  (hitting buttons)

B: Don’t...

A: Okay...

B:  Do you ever look at your hands and wonder what they will do next?

A: You know, I have some business on the next floor.  Maybe I’ll just get off there.

B: Like sometimes they just hang there...

A: I bet someone wants to get on this thing on the next floor. 

B: Sometimes they just take hold of something and squeeze like they have a mind of their own.

A:  Is it hot in here?

B: Then they just move POW like they have epilepsy or something.  Like now. 

(His hands start moving as if he has a bad case of the shakes.  He looks surprised at his hands movements)

A: Really?  Interesting.  Oh, hey, the 40th floor.  I can get off there. 

B:  I thought you were going to the 80th floor.

A: I can walk The rest of the way.  Exercise will do me good.

B: Suit yourself. 

            (His hand thrusts forward to The floor panel and The elevator stops)

            Ooops.

A: Oops?  What The hell?

B: Don’t swear at me.

A: What did you do?

B; And don’t raise your voice.

A: You stopped the elevator.

B: I didn’t.  My hands did.  I was just standing here.

A: Dammit.  Move.

B: I said don’t yell at me.

A: I’m not yelling.  Move, so I can get this thing going.

B: What’s your hurry?

A: No hurry.  I just want to get moving.

B: That’s the problem with people today.  No one wants to talk.

A: (hitting the buttons on the panel) Great.  Just great.  I think it’s broken.

B: (sitting on the floor.  He holds up his hand) See this?

A: Maybe this button will work.

B: I’ve got this weird callous here.

A: No. Damn.

B: Right here on this finger.  My ring finger.

A: The phone!  There’s always an emergency phone on these things.

B: I don’t know why I call you the ring finger.  I don’t wear a ring.

A: (he opens the box and finds the phone) Yes!

B:  It doesn’t make any sense, really, because I don’t use this finger.

A: (into the phone) Hello? Hello?

B: Do you see it?  Right here.

A: I don’t believe this.  Its dead.

B: (interested for a moment) Dead?

A: As a doornail.

B: Now, how would I get a callous here?  Makes no sense.

A: (looking at the ceiling) Maybe if I moved that panel I could climb up there.

B: (his hands start moving again) Uh oh, here they go again. 

            (He wraps his hands around   A’s feet)

A: What The hell...?

B: I said don’t swear at me!

A: What the hell are you doing you little freak?

B: I told you, it’s not me.  It’s the hands.  The stranger’s hands.

A: Well, get them off of me, dammit, before I….

B: I told you...

A: I’m telling you....

B: ...no swearing...

A: ...let me go...

B: ...Stop moving!  Stop moving...

A: ...get off!  Get off....

B: ...It’s not me.  I can’t....

A: This is the last time....

B: You’re hurting me...

A: Let go!...

B: (he frees himself from A and cowers in a corner) Nononononononono...

A: What the hell...?

B: Don’t hurt me.  Don’t hurt me.  Don’t hurt me.

A: Oh great.  Trapped in an elevator with a psycho. 

B: (whimpering) Don’t.  Don’t.  Don’t.  Don’t.

A: Don’t what?  I’m not doing anything.

B: The walls...

A: What about the walls?

B: The walls.

A: You scared? 

B: (he just whimpers) ooooh ooooh oooh...

A: Not so tough in tight spaces, are you Mr. Strange hands?  A little claustrophobic?

B: Maybe...yeah, I am.  Just stay away. 

A: There’s not too many places I can go, seeing how we’re trapped here in this really small box together.  (He looks up) Uh oh, I think the walls are starting to close in.  (He moves            

closer to B) Yep.  Tighter and tighter.  (He laughs unsympathetically) Inch by inch.

B: (looking at his hands.  He talks to his hands, while A thinks B is talking to him) What happened?  Did you do this?  You shouldn’t have done this.  It was bad.

A: I didn’t do anything.  (He slaps him a bit to shake him up) Snap out of it. (B whimpers more) Pathetic.  And you call me a little bastard.  Look at you. 

B: You shouldn’t have done it.

A: I didn’t.  You’re The one who started hitting all The buttons.

B: Liar!

A: You hit all The buttons, going nuts on me.  You try to act like a tough guy.  You’re nothing.  Nothing. 

B: You better stop!

A: Why?  You’re shivering on The floor like a little girl who peed her pants. 

B: Stop!....Stop...!

A: Come on.  Stand up.  (He reaches for B)

B: It’s happening.  Get away.  Get away.  Get away.

A: (grabbing B) Knock it off you little punk.  Your kind make me sick.  You think you’re so tough,    but get in a tight spot and you collapse.

B: I’m begging you.

A: I could knock The crap out of you.  It would probably be good for you.  Your kind are all alike.  Big man until you have to actually be a man.

B: No.  Don’t.

A: Can’t take the truth.  (He softly slaps B across the face in a mocking manner) Come on, lets see what kind of guy you are.  (He pushes B around, intimidating him like a cat with a broken bird) You gonna just take this?  Big guy?  Big man? 

B: (his hands over his face) Strangers hands.  Strangers hands.  Strangers hands.  Strangers hands.

A: You make me sick.  This isn’t even fun to bat you around. 

B: No.  Don’t.

A: (sitting next to B on The floor) I said I wasn’t you sorry piece of crap. 

            (There is a moment of silence while A stares straight ahead and B looks at his hands)

B: It’s so quiet.

A: Yep.

B: The callouses are on the fingers.  How does that happen?

A: Just shut up about the callouses.  No one cares.

B: I know. No one cares.  No one cares.  No one cares.

A: Maybe the phone will work.  Maybe I didn’t do it right.

B: Callouses and no one cares.

A: (he gets up to try The phone again) Maybe there’s a secret code. 

            (As he is at the phone, B stands behind him, we can’t see what he is doing) 

A: Dial 352.  Okay, I did that.  Dammit.  (His voice changes, he drops to his knees) Dead.

B: (standing behind him, holding the knife that he pulls out of A back) Dead as a doornail.

A: What have you done...

B: (shaking his head, looking at his hands) Stranger’s hands.  Strangers hands.  Strangers hands.  (The lights fade to black)