Drama

The Door by Anne Marie Wells

Cast of Characters 
STEPH Middle-aged daughter whose life has revolved around caring for her dad 
FATHER Elderly man struggling with dementia who struggled with anger as a father 
GREG Middle-aged son whose impatience has hindered his ability to care for his father 
TIME: Present 
SETTING: Stage split by a door facing stage right. Stage left is a scarcely decorated 
bedroom with a twin bed and armchair 
AT RISE: FATHER lies in bed asleep. STEPH enters stage right and approaches the door. 
ACT I Scene 1 
STEPH Dad? 
(FATHER startles awake from his bed. STEPH knocks.) 
Dad? Are you awake? 
(FATHER slips out of the bed and hides behind the armchair) 
Daaaad. (Beat). Alright, I’m going to come in. 
(STEPH tries to open the door, but it’s locked. FATHER peeks out from behind the chair.) 
Dad?? 
(STEPH jiggles the locked door knob then pounds on the door.) 
The Door 2 
Open the door, dad. (Beat). Please? I want to make sure you’re okay. That’s all. Are you okay? (pause) If you don’t respond I’ll have to get Greg to take the door knob off. Again. 
FATHER No! 
STEPH (To self) Thank God. (To FATHER) Dad, I won’t get Greg if you open the door. 
FATHER NO! 
STEPH Dinner’s ready. You’ve got to eat. (Pause) I’ll bring it up to you. You don’t have to eat down stairs, you can eat in your room. (Pause) You can’t take your meds without food. You know how it makes you feel. 
GREG (off-stage) Hello? 
STEPH (whispering) Dad! Greg’s here. You gotta come out! GREG (off-stage) Helllllo? (STEPH exits) 
STEPH (off-stage) Greg! What are you doing here? 
(FATHER shuffles to the door and puts his ear up against it) 
GREG (off-stage) I saw your car in the driveway on my way home. So, I thought I’d stop by for a minute. Where’s dad? 
STEPH (off-stage) Upstairs. How are Robert and the girls? 
The Door 3 
The Door 4 
GREG (off-stage) Is he okay? 
STEPH (off-stage) He’s fine. Do you want- 
GREG (off-stage) Did he lock himself in his room again? STEPH (off-stage) He’s resting. 
GREG (off-stage) Steph! He cannot be alone! The doctor said! You wanna kill him? 
STEPH (off-stage) He’s fine! 
GREG (off-stage) You can’t be sure of that! I’m gonna take the goddamn door knob off that goddamn fucking door. And then we won’t have to deal with this bullshit again! 
(GREG storms on stage. FATHER hears GREG coming and shuffles to hide behind the chair again. GREG pounds on the door.) 
Dad! Open the door! 
(GREG Pounds on the door. STEPH enters anxiously, standing behind GREG) 
Open the door right now! 
(Pounds) 
I’ll beat this door down if you don’t open it! 
STEPH (muted voice) Greg! He doesn’t know who you are! If you were sleeping in a house you don’t recognize with people you don’t know yelling at you and calling you “Dad,” would you open the door? You’re scaring him, and you’re not going to scare him into opening the door. 
The Door 5 
(GREG seethes) 
STEPH (cont.) Did dad scare you into opening the door? (pause) No. 
FADE OUT 
Scene 2 (Dreamy blue lighting) 
STEPH Greg, Dad knows. 
GREG He knows about what? 
STEPH About you and Jack. 
GREG WHAT?! Did you tell him?! 
STEPH Of course I didn’t tell him! 
(Door slams off-stage) 
Shit! Lock yourself in your room. I’ll talk to him. 
(GREG goes through the door and locks it before hiding behind the chair in the same manner his FATHER was in the previous scene. FATHER enters stage right.) 
Dad! 
(FATHER pushes STEPH aside) 
FATHER Outta my way! 
The Door 6 
(STEPH grabs her father’s arm) 
STEPH Wait! 
(FATHER aggressively shakes off her hand) 
FATHER I said get the fuck out! 
(STEPH exits. FATHER pounds on the door) 
OPEN THIS DOOR! 
(Pound) 
Open this door and face me like a man, you faggot! 
(Pound) 
Are you a faggot?! Are you a goddamn fucking faggot?! Do I have a faggot son?! ANSWER ME! 
(Pound) 
GREG I’m sorry! I’m sorry! 
FATHER You’re sorry?! You’re sorry?! Oh, I’ll make you sorry! 
(FATHER starts undoing his belt.) 
When you open this door, you better hope I’m dead cause I’m gonna beat your ass so bad your faggot boyfriend won’t recognize it. 
BLACK OUT 
The Door 7 
Scene 3 (Normal lighting) 
(GREG and STEPH are sitting on the floor leaning against the door. FATHER is on the floor in his room, leaning against the chair.) 
STEPH Dad could accidentally kill himself, but he hasn’t tried to do it on purpose (beat) yet. I’m going to keep dinner warm. You gonna stay? 
GREG I should go. 
STEPH Call Robert. See if he wants to bring the girls. Nevermind, I can do it, don’t worry about it. Maybe Dad will come out for the girls. They have an effect on him. 
(GREG nods. STEPH exits. GREG takes a deep breath in, holds it, and lets it out.) 
GREG Dad? (Pause) Steven? Steve? That’s your name, right? 
(FATHER listens.) 
I know your name because you’re my dad. I am your son. My name’s Greg. I was born on January 30, 1974, the day before your birthday. You used to call me G when I was growing up. My friends all thought it meant “Greg.” I was too embarrassed to ever correct them and tell them that you called me “Gift.” I was your birthday gift. 
(FATHER gets off the floor and stands up behind the chair listening.) 
But you stopped thinking I was a gift when I was 17. We didn’t talk for a long time. Years. Eighteen years. A whole nother lifetime. I hated myself. For a long time. And I think maybe you hated me too. And then I hated you for hating me. Or at least for not wanting me. 
(FATHER starts walking toward the door) 
The Door 8 
GREG (cont.) And then mom died. And when she died, we just kind of forgot anything ever happened. I was there at the funeral with Robert and you held your hand out to him and said, (Choking) “I’m Steven, Greg’s father.” And Robert said, “I’m Robert, Greg’s husband.” And you shook his hand and said, “Nice to meet you.” (beat) And I believed you. 
(GREG begins to softly cry to himself. FATHER reaches for the door and unlocks the lock. GREG jumps up startled and hopeful facing the closed door.) 
Dad? Will you open the door, Dad? Please? BLACK OUT

They’re Crazy, All These Years
by Donella Danielson

Characters: 

AMERICA 1999, played by any gender, any age 20s or older

AMERICA 2019, played by any gender, any age 20s or older

AMERICA 1969, played by any gender, any age 20s or older

Setting:  A place where these three years, in the form of people, meet. 

Time: December 31, 1999.

Lights up to reveal three chairs on the stage, each with a label. 

One is “1969,” one is “1999,” and one is “2019.” 

A medium-sized cardboard box is near each chair, also labeled with its corresponding year.

1999: What’s going on? (Looks around) Where am I?  I know it’s New Year’s Eve 1999, but I don’t know where I am. (Pauses, notices the chairs, then the audience) Oh! Hello! Let me introduce myself.  I’m the year 1999. (Makes slight bow, clears throat nervously, addresses the audience) I know, it’s strange. You never thought of a year as a person before. But here I am!  All through my year, everyone’s been so worried. People think when the calendar switches to the year 2000 – Boom! The world will end. They’re holed up in bunkers, waiting for the lights to go out, they’ve been hoarding food. Some of them won’t fly in planes or go near computers tonight. I’d just like to know how this turns out. Will I hand things over to year 2000 successfully? Or does the world end with me?

(2019 enters. This person moves a bit slower and is a bit weary.  He walks over to the 2019 chair, heaves a sigh, and sinks into the chair. 2019 looks around, sees 1999, gives a nod.)

2019: Hey.

1999: You’re 2019!

2019: (Grudgingly) I am.

1999: So we made it! 

2019: We did?

1999: We made it past the Y2K scare!

2019: Ah. Yes, I suppose so.

1999: But why are you so… sad, then? We did make it, didn’t we?

2019: Um, yeah, we made it through “Y2K.” God, I’d forgotten people called it that.

1999: (Looking closely at 2019) But things aren’t great in America, I’m guessing?

2019: Eh, great for some, not so much for others.

1999: Because of something that started with the Y2K problems, right?

(1969 enters briskly, confidently, dressed in a preppy 1960s outfit.)

1969: Hello, hello, I’m America 1969, I see my place is here. (Strides over to the 1969 chair) Where exactly is here, though?

1999: A place where years can go to talk to one another, apparently. 

2019: Don’t worry about it, at least it’s peaceful here.

1999: (Panicky voice) You mean it’s not peaceful in 2019?

2019: (Wearily) Calm down, it’s just—

1969: (Interrupting) Wow, so you’re America 2019 and you’re America…?

1999: 1999.

1969: Ah! That’s fantastic! I’ve always wondered about future years. I mean, I know everything in my year and previously, but—

1999: Yes, I think that’s how it works. I know everything in my year and leading up to it.

1969: So what happens after the year we are?

2019: Let’s not overthink this, shall we? We each know about our year and the years leading up to it, the future is a mystery. Hence 1999’s anxiety and your (Gesturing to 1969) unrelenting optimism. (Points to 1999) You’re forever in 1999, (Points to 1969) you’re forever in 1969 and I, unfortunately, am forever in 2019. 

(As 1999 and 1969 watch, 2019 starts to rummage in his cardboard box.)

2019: Ah! Good.  (He pulls a can of beer from the box, pops it open and takes a drink.)

1999: What in the world is going on in 2019?

2019: You don’t want to know.

1999: Yes, I really do. 

1969: (Eagerly) Let’s talk about my year! I really like my year! Then I want to hear all about yours! Are there flying cars?

(2019 and 1999 look at each other and shake their heads.)

1999: (To 2019) Not in 2019 either?

2019: Nope.

1969: Oh. Well. That’s kind of disappointing. (1969 bends over and starts rummaging around in his box.)

1999: (To 1969) Why do you like your year so much?

1969: (Looks up) Are you kidding? America 1969? I’m the moon landing year! (Pulls out a photo of the moon landing from the box and holds it up) And the music! Santana, The Velvet Underground, Joni Mitchell, and Miles Davis all release albums in my year! (Holds up any one of those album covers) There’s Woodstock! And the Boeing 747! 

(During this speech, 1999 bends down to look through her box, and pulls out a flip phone.

Meanwhile, 2019 has pulled out a smartphone from his box and starts fiddling with it.)

1999: You’re also the Vietnam War, the Manson murders, Chappaquiddick…

1969: (Frowns) Hey. It’s a good year to be America. Have you heard of this experiment at UCLA called ARPANET?  Scientists say they can link computers together and have them talk to each other. Have you ever heard of anything so crazy? How do computers talk? They say someday everyone will have a small device to talk to anybody anywhere… like Maxwell Smart’s shoe phone!  Like in Star Trek! Wait, you guys have probably never heard of Star Trek. It was on TV for a couple of years. Got canceled this year, though. Too bad. I guess people in the future won’t ever get to watch any Star Trek. 

(1999 and 2019 look up from their phones.)

2019: We’ve heard of Star Trek.

1969: (To 1999) Hey, what’s that? Oh my god, that’s a communicator from Star Trek!

1999: It’s just a phone.

1969 (Very impressed) Really? Can I see it?  (Then, noticing 2019’s device) Hey, what do you have?

2019: It’s a smartphone. 

1969: Smart? Like Maxwell Smart?

2019: No, like it’s practically smarter than we are…it does everything for us…it’s a phone, a camera, gives driving directions, has the internet—

1969: (Shaking head) Wow… I don’t know what the internet is… (Snaps back to what he was saying) Anyway, I love my year. America is so full of possibilities, big dreams. It’s true! Those devices you have prove it! Anything is possible in America! 

(1999 and 2019 turn and stare at 1969.)

1969: What’s the matter with you two?

1999: Well, I was worried that I wouldn’t be able to hand over my year, that something would go wrong. Now thanks to him, I know we make it to 2019, but nobody seems very happy. What’s happened? Why won’t you tell me?

2019: You wouldn’t believe it if I did. I wish it was just some silly computer glitch—

1999: You can say that now—

2019: People are definitely freaking out more in my year than they ever did in yours.

(1969, who has been rummaging about in his box again, pulls out hippie glasses and love beads, and perks up.)

1969: Freaking out?  Ha! Like Frank Zappa! (He puts on the love beads and hippie- style glasses. He flashes the peace sign.

2019 and 1999 look at him, look at each other, and exchange frustrated looks.)

2019: (To 1969) You are a deeply conflicted year.

(1999 sees 2019’s focus is on 1969, so she bends down and starts looking through her box, picking up a few items and looking at them as 1969 and 2019 continue to talk – very ’90s items such as a Sony Discman, disposable camera, butterfly hair clips)

2019: So, 1969. Sure, you have the moon landing, great music, the start of the internet—

1969: You said “internet” again—

2019: —But listen, like 99 said, you also have the Vietnam war and mass protests. There’s discrimination against anyone not white and straight. The nation is still reeling from the assassinations of Dr. King and Robert Kennedy. It’s a lot to process…and hell, Richard Nixon is president.

1969: Nixon’s OK. He has a 67 percent approval rating in 1969. 

2019: Yeah, about that…

(1999 joins the conversation again, raising her head at the mention of Nixon.)

1999: Nixon resigned from office in disgrace. 

1969: What?

2019: He did. Turns out he was a crook after all. Resigned to avoid impeachment.

1999: (To 1969) Don’t worry. The president in my year was impeached. (From the box, pulls out a copy of Washington Post’s Starr report in book form) How about it, 2019? Anyone impeached in your year?

2019: Yes, actually… (pulls out copy of Washington Post’s Mueller Report, also in book form.  1999 and 2019 compare books. They have nearly identical covers.)

1999: Hmm. But aside from that, what’s going on in your year? Is it another war? Are you sure it’s not about the Y2K mess?

2019: It has nothing to do with Y2K. It’s not war, exactly, although the U.S. has been at war in Afghanistan since 2001. People in 2019 are worried, scared and angry about so many things.

1969: That can’t be true! War for 18 years? And people are worried in my time, too. This all sounds like an exaggeration. (1999 nods along at this.)

2019: I wish it was. We worry about accidental nuclear war triggered by hot-tempered leaders—

1969: (Interrupting) —We worry about that too.

2019: We worry about America losing its democracy, children in cages, disease outbreaks, and mass shootings. We worry about working two jobs and still not having health insurance. We worry about giant hurricanes and bomb blizzards—

1969: What’s a bomb blizzard?

1999: From that list, that’s what you ask about?

2019: They’re massive storms linked to changes in global warming.

1999: They still haven’t fixed global warming?

1969: Man, they knew about that even in my year.

2019: Yeah. They decided to ignore it.

1999: They just ignored global warming? 

2019: Yeah, too much hassle to stop polluting. Too much money to be made. Oh, and they call it “climate change” now. And that’s only part of what has me upset.

1999: Just part? Isn’t that enough? You’re telling us that’s just the tip of the iceberg?

2019: Iceberg. That’s funny. Climate change joke.

(1999 just stares at him. 1969 is sitting dejectedly, unsure what to make of the America being described.)

1969: So there’s no flying cars. 

2019: Sorry.

1999: What else?

2019: You won’t believe it.

1999: Try me.

2019: Ok. You know who Donald Trump is?

1999: (Air quotes) “The Donald?” Tacky buildings and gold furniture?  The Marla Maples affair? That guy?

2019: Yeah. So he’s president now.

1999: President of what?

2019: The United States.

1999: (Silent for a beat) That’s… amusing?

2019: I assure you it’s not.

1999: Are you for real? Donald Trump is president of the United States of America?

(1969 has been half-listening, lost in thought, fiddling with his necklace, etc. Now he checks into the conversation.)

1969: Who’s Donald Trump?

2019: In your time, he was trying to avoid Vietnam.

1969: That’s understandable...

1999: How was Donald Trump elected president of the United States?

2019: Who even knows? Racist backlash against the first black president? 

1969: A black president?

2019: Sexism against Hillary Clinton?

1999: Why would people care about Hillary Clinton? She’d be the…former first lady from my year.

2019: She was the Democratic nominee.

1999: Wait. So it was Hillary Clinton against Donald Trump?

2019: Right. To be fair, plenty of people love him. Others think the Russians might have meddled in our elections. 

1969: The Russians?

2019: (To 1969) Er, Soviets to you. 

1999: I thought the cold war was over?

1969: What? Did the Soviet Union win the cold war?

1999: (Looking at 2019, genuinely worried) Can you explain?

2019: (Sits down, picks up his beer) The cold war is still technically over, we won. This is something else. They want to see America in chaos, and we’re doing it to ourselves. There’s a news channel or website for every level of crazy and every political position. If you don’t like what you hear, you scream that it’s “Fake News!” Nobody knows who or what to trust, we’re fractured, people are stressed out and angry, and, and … (takes a drink) ... so on. The beer’s still good, though.

1969: Well.

1999: What now?

(All three are silent for a moment.)

1999: You know, I feel better, talking to you two.

2019: Really?

1969: (Holding his head) I feel so much worse...

1999: Really. We each have challenges in our year, and I’m thinking, maybe it always feels this way? Like the current crisis is the direst one America has ever faced. Each of us feels like our year was the most difficult.

1969: Not me. My year is fantastic.

1999: Only because you won’t look at it honestly. 2019, are things really that bad or do you think America has seen worse? I mean, if 1865 or 1934 came in here they’d probably have something harsh to say to you.

2019: Sure. The thing is, some years really are more scary than others. Right now, it feels different. It feels like it is worse, like we’re going backwards in so many ways. But it’s hard to have perspective when you’re in it. 

1999: Yeah, I understand that. So, what thoughts do we leave this audience with? 

2019: I don’t know. I hate to leave on such a depressing note.

1969: Or on a falsely-optimistic one.

1999: Well, I’ve had anxiety all year, and I just found out my worst Y2K fears didn’t come true. So, maybe people should just keep living their lives and trying to improve the future even though the world might end tomorrow?

1969: That’s conflicted and optimistic. I love it.

2019: Sure, I guess we can—

1999: (Interrupting) —Shhh!  (She lifts a hand to indicate 2019 should stop talking, and looks stage left. All characters turn in that direction.)

1969: What’s that?

1999: I think it’s… (squinting, walking stage left, almost all the way off stage, searching for something. Whispers) 2039 is back there… I wonder if she’ll talk to us?

2019: America makes it to 2039? What are we waiting for? Invite her in!

End of play.