CURTAINS OPEN
SCENE [STAGE RIGHT]: The living room is dark and smokey. There is not much of a decor to speak of; just a ram-shackled hodgepodge of old dusty photographs, out-dated furniture, discontinued knick-knacks, and a layer of grime from decades of tobacco smoke. In fact, the smoke carries through the room just barely concealing the small kitchen beyond. All the lights are out save for the television flickers bouncing off the walls and back-lighting the smoke clouds emanating from the other side of the room in regular intervals. The couch is tattered and stained. At one time it was plush and comfortable, but close to a half-century of use had eroded the fabric and flattened the stuffing. An aluminum TV stand supports a half empty beer, a metal ashtray with a handful of butts, and an empty plastic plate where a frozen dinner had been recently consumed.
The television is tuned to the local news station where an anchor is reporting on a story of no particular importance. The volume is barely audible anyhow.
BACKLIGHT ILLUMINATES A SILHOUETTE OF A MAN SITTING ON THE COUCH: A cherry glows brighter then fades. Soon after the exhale of deeply inhaled final drag pours out of the same mouth. The cigarette is then snubbed in the aforementioned ashtray. The last half of the beer is quickly guzzled and the empty bottle placed back with a hard knock on the TV tray. A satisfied belch and a grunt are let out as the old black man; complete with his meal, lays back in his seat on the dirty couch. Shortly after he breathes deep, garners his last strength of the day and stands up.
EXIT STAGE RIGHT
SCENE [STAGE LEFT]
MAN IN CAP AND GOWN SITTING IN CHAIR FUMBLING WITH HIS HAND IN HIS POCKET. PULLS OUT TINY BOX, INSPECTS IT AND PUTS IT BACK. REPEATING THE PROCESS SOON AFTER.
MAN TURNS TO THE AUDIENCE AND APPROACHES:
SOLILOQUY: “Some might say I have been blessed with many small miracles, others would simply refer to it as good luck. What I did not realize was that all my miracles, my good fortune, and ultimately my journey had been orchestrated by that kindly old black man.
“Actually, as I reflect on my incredible journey and the blessings I have received, he really was not all that kindly. The school janitor was reclusive and rarely interacted with the students. When he did it was most often in short grunts or impatient hand gestures. The old black janitor simply did his job and thus was the target of ridicule by some of the students. They made up stories, called him names, and even played pranks on him. Most of the students just ignored him, some were mean.
“Even though my group of friends were in the mean crowd, I treated most of those uncomfortable situations with apathy. It was not that I had a sense of injustice or empathized with the man, I just did not care.”
CHECKS POCKET, PULLS OUT INSPECTS AND RETURNS THE BOX:
RETURNING TO AUDIENCE: “I had often noticed slight glances from the man or felt his glare from across the hallways and classrooms, but I never really thought much about it.”
LONG PAUSE IN REFLECTION:
TOM: “When I was younger, I was often bullied. The other kids would beat me up and take my sneakers, rob me of my backpack, or relieve me of my lunch money. I would return to my locker later to find my returned sneakers, backpack, or a few dollar bills. The only other person with access to the lockers was the janitor. I knew this but never really cared to put two-and-two together.
“Eventually I would come to find answer keys or small gifts. For example I had taken a liking to a certain girl. After confessing to a friend in the hallway that I liked her but did not have the confidence to ask her on a date, I returned to my locker to find a note signed by her and with her phone number on it. Score.
“I was doing well in school. I excelled in basketball thanks to the playbooks from the competition inexplicably placed in my locker. I was the most popular kid in school and a rousing success. Over the years I had gotten used to the gifts. I never questioned where they came from. In fact, I had come to expect them. I never demanded them and if I never received another, I would be content. But they sustained me and I had grown atrophic to my dependence on them: on the old black janitor.”
SCENE [STAGE RIGHT]
SEVERAL PEOPLE ARE SITTING IN A ROW OF CHAIRS. CLOSEST ARE AN OLDER COUPLE, (TOM’S PARENTS), AND A YOUNG WOMAN, (TOM’S GIRLFRIEND). THEY ARE PAYING ATTENTION TO THE GRADUATION CEREMONY BEHIND TOM.
TOM ACKNOWLEDGES HIS FAMILY, CHECKS POCKET, PULLS OUT INSPECTS AND RETURNS THE BOX, CONTINUES SOLILOQUY: “The old black janitor had taken on my cause from a young age. He assumed an obsession with making me successful. An outsider might look at the situation and argue that the janitor had “adopted” me and wanted to propagate my achievements to amend his own failures. His motives notwithstanding, I was living a life served to me on a platter.
“Near high school graduation, the old black janitor had somehow procured my acceptance at a top university that happened to be only a few cities over. I had not even considered applying to such a prestigious school, but the application had already been filled out; along with cash for the application fee and a stamped envelope, and was sitting in my locker awaiting my signature. My top grades and perfect SAT score, courtesy of the old black janitor, helped land me in the college I dared not dream about only months prior.
“The old black janitor followed.
“I recognized him about the school and on into medical school; but like the mole on your face I simply accepted and overlooked it. My fortune has continued until this very day; graduation day.”
CHECKS POCKET, PULLS OUT INSPECTS AND RETURNS THE BOX.
GRADUATION SPEAKER: “Doctor Thomas Jacobs.”
AUDIENCE APPLAUDS.
TOM WALKS STAGE LEFT TO SPEAKER AND TAKES THE DIPLOMA. AUDIENCE CONTINUES APPLAUSE. TOM RAISES FISTS IN VICTORY POSE, THEN WALKS OVER HIS GIRLFRIEND. HE KNEELS ON ONE KNEE AND PRESENTS TO BOX WITH THE RING. EXCITED SHE SHOUTS ‘YES!’ AND EVERYONE STANDS TO GUSH OVER THE COUPLE.
TOM’S FATHER WALKS STAGE LEFT. CURTAIN DRAWS ON STAGE RIGHT.
TOM’S FATHER: “I could not be any prouder. My son is living a story-book life. After all these years I will get to see my only son become the embodiment of my life’s ambitions.”
REFLECTING PAUSE
CONTINUES: “In what seems like a lifetime ago, I was a privileged youth. My father was wealthy, but I deeply envied those who seemed to have all the luck. Those that did not seem to have to study hard to make good grades, those who got the girls, scored the touchdowns, and had lots of friends. My envy manifested in rage. I would molest and malign the weaker kids. I later turned that aggression into a successful career as an attorney. I preyed on the weak and continued to molest and malign the opposition through the legal system.”
GUILTY PAUSE
CONTINUES: “My aggression turned to guilt and when Tom was born. I prayed that my son’s life would be more peaceful and beneficial to the world. And today, that prayer was answered. My son is the consummation of my dreams. Through apathy, Tom had not negatively affected anyone or made any enemies as I had. Later tonight; unbeknownst to Tom, I plan on giving him an all-expenses paid trip to Fiji for him and his betrothed as an engagement gift. The plan is to meet Tom in the study and hand him the plane tickets in some sort of passing the torch / coming of age ceremonial.”
TOM’S FATHERS MOTIONS TO STAGE RIGHT. HE WALKS ACROSS THE STAGE AS THE CURTAIN IS PULLED BACK HALFWAY. TOM’S MOTHER AND FIANCÉE ARE LAYING ON THE FLOOR IN A BLOODY POOL. TOM’S FATHER RUSHES OVER TO THEM AND DROPS TO HIS KNEES.
A LONG DRAMATIC PAUSE AS HE STRUGGLES FOR HIS BREATH AND DRY HEAVES.
HIS HEAD BECOMES TOO HEAVY TO LIFT AS THE DEPRESSION SWEEPS OVER HIM. SPINNING HIS HEAD AROUND HE LOOKS RIGHT AS THE CURTAIN IS PULLED BACK THE REST OF THE WAY. TOM IS UNCONSCIOUS AND HANGING FROM A RAFTER. THE OLD BLACK JANITOR IS ON A LADDER STRINGING HIM UP.
TOM’S FATHER BLINKS TRYING TO ADJUST HIS VISION, STUNNED AT WHAT HE IS WATCHING. AT THAT MOMENT, THE OLD BLACK JANITOR RELEASES THE ROPE AND TOMS FALLS TWO FEET TO THE END. A BRUTAL JERK SNAPS HIS NECK AND WITH A TWITCH, TOM DIES.
THE OLD BLACK JANITOR CLIMBS DOWN THE LADDER, SLOWLY PUTS THE LADDER OFF STAGE AND RETURNS TO INSPECT HIS WORK.
AFTER A PAUSE, HE ACKNOWLEDGES TOM’S FATHER: “Why?” PAUSE: “Why? You want to know why? I’ll tell you why. You don’t remember me. That’s why.”
TOM’S FATHER CAN NOT PROCESS IT ALL. HE IS TOO WEAK TO RESPOND OR EVEN MOVE. HIS EYES DART BACK AND FORTH BETWEEN HIS LOVED ONES. HE IS OVERCOME.
THE OLD BLACK JANITOR: “You don’t remember me because you are a selfish, evil, and racist jerk who walks all over people and uses them for your own sordid ends.”
TOM’S FATHER LOOKS UPON THE OLD BLACK JANITOR WITH CONFUSION AND DESPAIR.
THE OLD BLACK JANITOR: “You don’t remember me because back in grade school you beat up a little black kid and kicked me while I was down. You told me that I would never amount to anything and I was doomed to a future of cleaning the defilement of the successful.”
THE OLD BLACK JANITOR STARTS PACING. WITH INCREASING VOLUME: You don’t remember me because you never bothered to know who I was. You never made eye contact, and you robbed me of my future. You don’t know me because you took my hopes and dreams and it meant nothing to you.”
THE OLD BLACK JANITOR WALKS OVER TO TOM’S FATHER AND RAISES A GUN TO HIS HEAD.
THE OLD BLACK JANITOR: “You don’t know me because I was just ant to you. And you gathered me up and crushed me in an insignificant moment of entertainment for you.”
THE INEVITABLE ARRIVES.
THE OLD BLACK JANITOR: “What you took from me that day I multiplied in you and will now take back. I made everything Tom has become. I softened your heart and I made you vulnerable so that you can know and feel the pain ten fold over that which you made in me.
“My name is Vengeance and you will NEVER know me!”
BANG
END
