act one.  

 

ABOUT THE STAGE: everything is draped in black, even the seating, so that when characters sit down it appears they are hovering in mid air. There is a screen at the back of the space.  

 

The screen reads: INT. THE DARKNESS - CONT’D.

 

THE NARRATOR enters dressed all in black with white running shoes and stands at the front of the stage, off to the side.  There is a white spotlight in the centre of the stage, like a camp fire.

 

Narrator.  In the darkness there was only silence.

 

Walter.  (from off) Here we go again.

 

Narrator.  Well, silence and Walter.

 

Walter enters, frustrated, cranky, grumpy, as per usual.  

 

Walter. (to himself) There’s nothing to be done.  You know it won’t do any good.

 

Narrator.  Where there was Walter there wasn’t much silence.

 

Walter. (pacing)  Just ignore him.  He’s only trying to bait you.  Again.  Always poking, always needling, pushing….

 

Narrator.  Walter had taken to talking to himself.  It was a relatively new development.  

 

Walter gets up close to the NARRATOR, his face right next to the Narrator’s who pays him not mind- similar in fashion to the British Palace Guards.

 

Walter. (Forcefully) Well you’re not much of a conversationalist, ARE YOU NARRATOR?  (Walter paces away from The NARRATOR, taking a seat, seemingly exhausted)  Eternity’s really starting to feel like fucking forever isn’t it?

 

Narrator. The narrator began an aside related to Walter having chosen this unending residency in the darkness when he was inter-

 

Sonia.  (from off, quieter at first)  WALTER?

 

Narrator.  -by voice, in the distance.

 

Walter. I’ve got ears too, thanks.

 

Sonia.  (from off)  WALTER!?

 

Walter.  (to himself) what fresh hell is this now.

 

Sonia enters, looking around, clearly lost.  

Sonia.  (muttering)  Fucking door, where are- (sees Walter) WALTER!  

 

She runs towards him, to hug him, to greet him excitedly.  He dodges, falling to the floor and out of her grasp.  Missing him takes her in sight of the Narrator and she makes an excited noise and runs to hug him.  He does not react in anyway.  

 

Narrator.  Sonia had returned and seemed none the worse for wear from her travels.  She had, conveniently, forgotten during her time away, that the Narrator very much hated anyone touching him.

 

Sonia lets go and steps back, smiling.

 

Sonia.  (mocking) She had, in fact, not forgotten at all.  

 

Sonia turns back to Walter, who has now regained his composure.

 

Walter.  You’ve come again.  I’ll admit, I didn’t expect to see you anymore.

 

Sonia.  Thought i’d given up and disappeared?

 

Walter.  It has been… a while.

 

Narrator.  It had been quite a bit longer than ‘a while,’ but time was funny in the dark.   

 

Both Walter and Sonia shoot the Narrator dirty looks.  

 

Walter.  I didn’t think you had the fortitude, the stamina.

 

Sonia.  I discovered reservoirs of strength I didn’t realize I possessed.  

 

Walter.  And here you are again.

 

Sonia.  Right where we started. Not one step further (a beat) How have you fared?  In my absence? 

 

Walter grunts and returns to his seat, almost sulking.

 

Walter.  Hardly noticed you were even gone, to be honest.  It’s been a real picnic. 

 

Sonia. (rolling her eyes and turning to the Narrator.)  How’s he been really, Narrator? 

 

Narrator.  Walter was faring both— 

 

Walter.  (angry, pointing) Enough, keep your mouth shut, you.  She left us.  She’s no friend of ours.  

 

Sonia. Come on.  Change finds us all, Walter. 

 

Walter. Well there’s no change to be found round here, look all you like. 

 

Sonia.  Is that so? (looks around, for show)  They seem to have moved the door.  Speaking of changes after all.

 

Walter.  They have merely REmoved the door.  For repairs.  Maintenance.  It’ll return soon enough.

 

Sonia.  Why’d they do that?

 

Narrator.  Walter, in a fit of-

 

Walter.  (To Narrator.) No!

 

Narrator.  -rage or frustration maybe, had kic-

 

Walter.  (To Narrator). Enough.

 

Narrator.  -kicked the doorknob off.  

 

Walter sheepishly retreats to the other side of the stage.

 

Sonia.  Impressive.

 

Narrator.  He had intended to stop a young Chinese man from going through the door, as it was a pull situation at the time.  The young man, Tao was his name, resisted two days of oral arguments against going through the door from Walter-

 

Walter.  Keep going Narrator.  Illustrate my every humiliation.  IT’s what narrators do, after all.

 

Narrator.  When reason didn’t work, Walter resorted to physical arguments and when he found that he could not restrain Tao, he attempted to render the door unusable by kicking the door knob clean off.  

 

Sonia.  Well, did it work?  Was poor Tao, cast adrift into the dark, as I was?

 

Walter scoffs loudly, laced with bitterness, almost a harrumph.

 

Walter.  (mutters)  Hardly.

 

Narrator.  The door adapted and with a simple push, Tao crossed the threshold and exited the story.  

 

Sonia.  Then they took the door?

 

Walter.  Then they took the door.

 

A loud squeaking is heard off from the opposite side as Sonia entered and someone, man/woman (possibly wearing a unicorn mask or something similarly ridiculous) enters, cursing and pulling a large doorframe on a flat dolly.  It appears heavy and squeaks loudly with every heave.

 

The Man/Woman wrestles the door into place, at a slight angle upstage- right, enough of an angle that if the door opened, the majority of the audience wouldnt’ be able to see directly through it.  There is a lot of grunting.

 

Sonia.  Well how’s that for a little goddamn synchronicity?

 

Ralph.  Fucking fuck, these fuckers are heavy.  

 

Narrator.  The door was still blue, like Sonia remembered, only where it had once been the colour of the sky on the last day of summer before the start of her final year in high school, it was now the blue of the sky on the day her mother had died.

 

Ralph.  (gestures back to the Narrator).  Doesn’t miss a fucking tick, this one.

 

Walter.  He does things like that on purpose.  He knows I’m colour blind!  

 

Ralph.  Either way, don’t fucking break it again, Walter.  Go through it or leave it the fuck alone.  These are your options.  Proceed at your own peril. (booming) You’ve been warned.  

 

(a beat)

 

Sonia.  Hey Ralph.

 

Ralph.  Hey Sonia.   Thought you’d given up.  

 

Sonia.  Never give up, never surrender.  Just needed a break. 

 

Ralph.  Some break.  Think you’re gonna go through this time? (meaning the door)

 

Sonia.  Not up to me, you know that.  

 

Ralph.  Hell of a condition isn’t it?  

 

Both Ralph and Sonia look at Walter and shake their heads.

 

Sonia.  What are you gonna do?

 

Ralph.  Good to see you all the same, though.

 

Sonia.  You too, Ralph. 

 

Ralph.  (To Walter)  You know the rules.  Don’t be an asshole.

 

Ralph makes the fingers to the eyes and then towards Walter gesture, the “I’m watching you tough guy” sort of deal, as he exits the stage. 

 

Walter sullenly flips him off after Ralph is gone.  He then crosses his arms and sulks in the general direction of away from Sonia.

 

(a beat)

 

Narrator.  This wasn’t the first time that Sonia had returned from traveling out into the unknown.  Try as he might though, Walter couldn't remember a single thing about those other times, his memory felt as if it had gauze stretched across it.  It seemed to them both, that either Sonia was there and always had been, or she wasn’t and had left ages ago. 

 

Sonia explores the stage aimlessly, pausing to touch the door before closing the gap between her and Walter.

 

Sonia.  You just gonna sulk over there?  That how it’s gonna be, is it? 

 

Walter more thoroughly turns away from her.

 

Sonia.  Don’t want to hear my harrowing tales of adventure out there, away from all this…(she spins around indicating their surroundings).

 

Walter. (not turning to face her) I feel like we’ve done this before. 

 

Sonia.  It doesn’t seem UN-familiar, I’ll give you that. 

 

Walter. Why do you insist on me knowing these things?  I don’t.

 

Sonia.  (slightly mocking) You don’t what? 

 

Walter.  I don’t want to know.

 

Sonia.  You don’t want to know what?

 

Walter.  I don’t- (it occurs to him that she is mocking him and he sighs).  I think even Charlie Brown must have caught on to the football gag eventually.

 

Sonia.  Charlie Brown?

 

Walter is not impressed. 

 

Narrator.  It was never really clear, whether Walter was walking into Sonia’s setups blindly because he genuinely didn’t see her traps or because he was playing along, knowing full well that she greatly enjoyed the game of it.  Sonia never asked and Walter never volunteered the information and so, on and on the banter would go;  Sonia needling Walter and Walter falling for it, on and on ad infinitum. Whatever else their differences, in this, he was unfailing in his indulgence.

 

Walter and Sonia move about the stage, a hair above slow motion, a semi-sort of pantomime, aping the idea of the passage of time, as the NARRATOR speaks.  SONIA ends up in front of the door.

 

Sonia.  I was trying to think if we’ve ever bothered to knock.

 

Walter.  Why do you insist on-

 

Sonia.  You don’t think we should? 

 

Walter.  (sighs) knock?

 

Sonia.  Yeah.  Knock. Like politely and what not.  Not like an asshole or anything. (She thinks about it a moment.) I’ll do it I mean, not you. 

 

Walter.  We’ve never knocked politely on The Door to Eternity?  That seems unlikely somehow.

 

Narrator. They had in fact tried knocking on the door on five separate occasions.  All five times there had been no response. 

 

Walter.  See.  The Narrator knows.  Its gotta be true.

 

Sonia.  I’m gonna do it anyways. 

 

Walter.  You’ve never listened before, why start now?

 

Sonia sets herself, legs spread, fist clenched.  She’s in the ready position, willing herself to knock.  She raises a fist.  She takes a deep breath.  

 

 

She knocks.  Three times, firmly, yet politely.

 

A beat.

 

Sonia places her ear to the door for a moment and then pulls away.

 

Narrator.  Much like the original 5 attempts, the sixth also produced nothing in return. 

 

Sonia. (To Walter).  Don’t say I told you so.

 

Walter.  Well i did.  

 

Sonia.  Nevertheless, savour it silently.

 

Narrator.  This seemed unlikely.

 

A beat

 

Walter. (to the narrator) I can hold my tongue when required, thank you very much.

 

Sonia. I look forward to the day. 

 

Walter.  Very funny.

 

Sonia.  It’s killing you not to say something right now.

 

Walter.  I’m perfectly at ease.

 

Sonia. I really don’t get this ease of yours.  Why are you so adamant about remaining ignorant when the potential majesties of the universe are on the other. side. of. this. door?  (she slaps the door for punctuation)

 

Narrator.  This was the crux of their history together in the darkness, this inability to see the situation from the others side.  For example, though he had said similar things many times, Sonia doesn’t see what Walter says next coming.

Walter.  What if it’s not the ‘majesties of the universe’ we’re talking about here?  What if it’s something worse?

 

Sonia.  Like…

 

Walter.  Sure, that- well, that or anything shy of “the majesties of the universe,” just as an example.

 

Sonia.  It’s got to be better than this, this…emptiness.

 

Narrator.  Later on, after both of them had finally passed through the door, together, as those in their circumstances must always pass through the door, they would each individually come to a startling realization.  Each of them, separately, upon careful consideration and reflection in the place that came after, would find understanding of the other’s position and would regret not having found such understanding before their parting of ways.  

 

Walter.  You are unbelievably naive.  It can always be worse.  Did life teach you nothing?

 

Sonia.  Naive?  (Guttural scream of frustration) Why do I even come back here?  I wander around in the dark and i think, he must have reconsidered by now.  He must be bored by now.  He must have changed his mind BY NOW!!!!  But you’ll never change your mind.  You’re a stubborn ASSHOLE and you’re never going to go through that door and we’re going to be stuck in this nothing forever, all because OF YOU.

 

A beat while she calms herself.  Walter doesn’t engage.

 

Sonia (CONT’D).  Were you always a coward or just now, here and for all eternity?

 

Walter.  I can see we’ve reached the raised-voice, name-calling portion of the proceedings, which is generally my cue to leave.

 

Walter begins to walk across the stage in the opposite direction of Sonia.  A Woman runs onto the stage and directly at Walter.  They collide.  The sound of thunder.  The together fall into a heap on the ground accompanied by the usual sort of exclamations and swearing.

 

Sonia watches with amusement. 

 

Sonia.  Here we go again.  

 

The lights go out save a single spotlight on the new arrival as she struggles to her feet.

 

(Cont’d)

Ralph.  (booming and OFFSTAGE)  STELLA MEROWICZ, YOU. ARE. WELCOME.

 

Narrator.  The thunder was standard when a new person arrived.  In much the same way, when the door closed following a departure, the proceeding silence was also standard.  It always felt, inexplicably heavier, thicker, more robust than the thunder,  as if it needed to declare itself antithesis to the clamour of arrival.  To Sonia it always seemed like the silence of an empty room, right after you’ve shut the lights and locked the door behind you; the proverbial fallen tree in the woods.  

 

A beat.  

 

STELLA stares around at her surroundings and the door and WALTER and SONIA, in a state of confused shock, semi-frozen.

 

WALTER gets to his feet and gets his first real look at STELLA.  SONIA waves a hand in the air, part welcome, part catching her attention.  

 

SONIA. (stifling amusement) You okay, honey?  That was some spill.

 

WALTER. She’s gonna pop.  

 

SONIA.  No way.  She’s got this.  Don’tcha?  Just needs a minute, is all.

 

WALTER. Definite screamer, it’s already started bubbling up.  Look.

 

STELLA lets out a scream. 

 

WALTER. Told you.  

 

STELLA bolts, still screaming.  She exits one side of the darkness, screaming the whole way and then re-enters on the other side, still screaming.    SONIA grabs her by the shoulders or tries to at any rate.  The screaming stops but STELLA dodges/avoids/breaks-free of SONIA and hits the ground sliding to a stop near the door.  

 

SHE stays down, looking warily back towards WALTER and SONIA, something like a cornered animal, breathing heavy.

 

SONIA.  We’re not going to hurt you, stupid idiot.  

 

STELLA.  Wh-what- the fuck?

 

SONIA.  No more screaming, yeah?

 

STELLA.  Where is this? Who the fuck are you? WHAT. THE. FUCK?

 

SONIA. All fair questions and i get it, this is wierd.  YOu were just somewhere else, we know.  we’ve been there.  Well, not exactly but we get it.

 

WALTER.  What she’s really saying, and might i add, trying to be all sorts of nice about it for some reason, is that, basically… pull your fucking shit together already.  

 

SONIA.  WALTER!

 

NARRATOR.  It wasn’t hard for the newcomer, or for any one really, were they in a position to observe either Sonia or Walter for an extended period of time, to tell, that in situations needing a softer touch, Walter was no use at all.  

 

STELLA.  Who is that exactly?

 

SONIA. That is an asshole.  His name is Walter. 

 

WALTER waves amiably. 

 

STELLA.  Hi.  I actually meant way over there.  

 

She points at the NARRATOR.

 

SONIA.  Ohhhhhhhhhhhh.  Right.  Well, THAT is the… Narrator.

 

NARRATOR.  Neither Sonia, nor Walter, had ever gotten the hang of explaining who or what exactly the Narrator was, which being the case, they both had taken to waiting for Ralph to show up so that he could do it.  

 

STELLA ranges over towards the NARRATOR, thoroughly puzzled but nevertheless intrigued.  

 

STELLA. (gesturing behind her at the NARRATOR)  Its like he’s talking about us, while we’re right here.

 

WALTER. There’s your asshole right there.  Never stops.  Its like living inside of a book as it’s being written-

 

SONIA.  Don’t mind Walter, all this time in the dark’s made him a bit ornery.  

 

STELLA.  I’m sorry?

 

SONIA.  I said ornery.  Like douchey.  Cantankerous.  Grouchy. 

 

WALTER.  Here we go with the vocabulary again.  She’s super proud of all her big words.  Don’t get her-

 

SONIA.  I was doing my masters in english lit if you must know.  

 

WALTER.  I already knew that because you never stop-

 

STELLA.  I’m sorry.  Was?  So we’re…?  This is…?

 

STELLA starts to panic and drops to her knees, breathing heavy.  SONIA goes to comfort her.  

 

WALTER.  (muttering to himself) Millenials.