These Walls Can Talk

by Erin Mallon

  THESE WALLS CAN TALK

  Copyright © 2020 by Erin Mallon. All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Cover Design: Najla Qamber Designs

  This play is dedicated to the entire community of romance audiobooks: the authors who write them, the narrators and engineers who record them and the passionate fans who devour them.

  Characters

  Vera – F, 30s-40s

  a voracious romance audiobook listener, married to Cameron

  Cameron – M, 40s

  a self-described “serious” author, married to Vera

  Neil – M, 30s-40s

  an audio engineer, “recovering misogynist” and lover of romance

  Jennifer – F, 30s

  a brand-new female narrator and accomplished stage actor

  Atticus – M, 30s-40s

  The Most Successful Male Romance Narrator of All Time

  Georgia – F, 30s-40s

  a well-known and wildly successful romance author

  Scene One

  Vera’s kitchen.

  She is slicing tomatoes.

  She grabs her earbuds and goes to put them in, but before she does…

  Vera: Cutie? Baby girl are you watching Queen Elsa?

  Offstage child voice: “Yes, Mommy!”

  Vera: That’s Mommy’s good girl. (to herself) Good. Fantastic. Let’s go.

  She puts in her earbuds, presses play and continues to slice tomatoes.

  A delicious, recorded male voice comes through.

  She is instantly affected.

  Male Voice (Atticus): “Woman, you have no idea. The things I want to do to you haven’t even been invented yet,” I say as I ready her body for the onslaught of creative genius I’m about to unleash. “That’s right sweetness, I’m the Thomas Edison of titties, the George Washington Carver of the clitoris, the Leonardo-Fuckin’-DaVinci of va-jay-jay… and I. Am. Ready. To INNOVATE.”

  Vera: Oh that voice…

  Vera’s breathing gets faster.

  She starts chopping in a hard, rhythmic way.

  Male Voice: Her breathing gets faster and I feel the pulse in her clit start to pound the second the helicopter blade of my tongue lands on the tiny helipad of her desire. She instinctually reaches for my sac. “Uh-uh-uh, butterfly, did I say you could touch?”

  Vera: No, butterfly, he did not.

  Vera picks up another tomato, preparing to cut it, but gets lost in listening while cradling the fruit in her hand.

  Male Voice: She’s a naughty little thing though, and boldly cradles my globes in her hand anyway, paying no mind to my direct instruction not to touch. But god help me, her tiny hands are my kryptonite, and suddenly I’m ready to Superman my way right into her Lois Lane.

  Vera: (loving it)

  So many metaphors…

  Male Voice: Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck.

  Vera:Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck.

  Vera gets a surprise jolt of sexy and squeezes the hell out of the tomato, juice and seeds squirting and dribbling down her arm.

  Vera: (snapping out of it)

  Damn it, damn it, oh my-

  She starts frantically cleaning herself up.

  Male Voice:“Oh you think I’m smiling, now baby girl? I’m gonna smile even bigger when you finally bounce that fine ass over here and pop yourself right here on Papa’s pogo-

  Vera yanks out her earbuds, and the voice cuts off.

  Vera: (calling sweetly to the other room)

  How are Olaf and Anna doing boo-boo? Cutie? Lovebug?

  Offstage child voice: “They’re good, Mommy!”

  Vera: (rushed, relieved)

  Good girl. That’s Mommy’s good, good girl.

  Vera puts her earbuds back in and resumes slicing tomatoes.

  She forgot to pause, so the scene has progressed.

  Male Voice: “That’s the way to do it, baby. Just like that. GodDAMN you’re gooooooooooood…”

  Cameron: Honey I’m home!

  Male Voice: “You’re the Best! I’ve! Ever! Had!”

  Cameron: Sweetie, where are you? You in the kitchen??

  Male Voice: (getting close, out of breath)

  I’m so glad we met at the aquarium this afternoon. Fuck me like a beluga!

  Cameron enters the kitchen.

  Vera doesn’t see him.

  She continues to slice and enjoy her aural delights.

  Cameron: Oh wow! You’re cooking? Yum! Whatcha listening to?

  Male Voice:

  Cameron reaches out to tickle her.

  Cameron: Hey beautiful.

  Vera whips in his direction with the knife in hand.

  Vera: I KILL YOU!!! I KILL YOU ‘TIL YOU DIE!!!!!!!!!!!!!

  Cameron: Vera! Jesus!

  Vera lowers the knife and pulls out her earbuds.

  Vera: Cameron! Baby I’m-

  Cameron: What the fuck, Vera!?!

  Vera: I’m so sorry! Did I stab you? Did I stab you, baby?

  Cameron: NO YOU DIDN’T STAB ME!!!

  Vera:Oh good. That’s good.

  Beat.

  I’m making dinner.

  Cameron: …

  Vera: I thought you’d be pleased. I don’t always do that.

  Cameron: …

  Vera:I’m really sorry. I was caught up in my book. And I’m jumpy, baby. You know I’m jumpy.

  Cameron: There’s jumpy and then there’s homicidal. What the hell were you listening to? A true crime bloodbath?

  Vera:…yes.

  Cameron: (pleased)

  Really! Who’s the author?

  Vera: I don’t know actually. I’m more… into… the uh… the narration.

  Cameron: Ugh. Audiobooks. I can’t stand audiobooks. Whyever would I want someone to read to me? Am I but a toddler? Do I not have eyes that see? Am I not literate?

  Vera:Why are you talking like that?

  Cameron: Ugh. Trying to crack the spine on this new Fantasy Thriller Sci-Fi Epic with time travel elements. Gotta find that sweet spot with the old timey vernacular. Ugh.

  Vera: Do you actually like writing?

  Cameron: Of course. Why?

  Vera: You say “Ugh” a lot lately.

  Cameron: Ugh. No I don’t.

  Vera: Ok.

  Vera goes to put her phone on the charger/speaker dock and un-pauses it by accident.

  Cameron: Can we eat?

  Male Voice: (through the speakers)

  YOU’RE FUCKING DELICIOUS!!!

  Vera fumbles with the phone, dropping it, picking it up, dropping it again, tossing it into the air, then finally settling it on its charger.

  Vera: Yes, uh. Yes. Let’s eat.

  She gives Cameron a chaste kiss.

  Scene Two

  A recording studio.

  Jennifer is wearing headphones and speaking into an expensive microphone. She reads along on her iPad.

  Neil is on the other side of the glass, sitting in front of a large board with many dials.

  Jennifer: My sweater strained with the swell of my breasts-

  Neil: Uh. A bit husky, yeah?

  Jennifer: Sorry, you want me to be husky?

  Neil: No. What you did was too husky.


  Jennifer: Oh ok. “My sweater strained with the swell of my breasts. I knew I should have worn the cotton T instead of the angora turtleneck.”

  Neil:We’ve gone a bit nasal now.

  Jennifer: We have? Alright. “Angora doesn’t breathe like you think it would. Plus the turtleneck element was restricting his access to the pale, white column of my throat.”

  Neil: Bit of vocal fry on that one.

  Jennifer: ….K. “Like he was reading my mind in that moment, he lifted the sweater over my head in one fowl swoop.”

  Neil:A bit too childlike. This is a romance. Can’t have things sounding childlike. Because that would just be…

  Jennifer: Sure. Ok. But also, she said one fowl swoop. It should be one FELL swoop, yeah? Don’t these things get edited?

  Neil:We’re not auditioning the author, we’re auditioning you. And this is just a sample script we use to screen new narrators, not the actual piece you’d be working on.

  Jennifer: Alright.

  Neil:But yes, the grammatical errors will light your ass on fire. Take it from one “one fell swoop,” please.

  Jennifer: “He lifted the sweater over my head in one fell swoop. Looking at the fluffy garment now that it was separate from my throbbing body, I couldn’t believe I chose to wear it on a first date. It was like a nun’s habit that used to be a rabbit and-“

  Neil:You sound elderly now.

  Jennifer: I’m sorry, but are you supposed to be this...

  Neil:This what.

  Jennifer: ...involved?

  Neil: Oh. Right. No, of course. I’m just the button pusher, right? I should just sit back and push the buttons!

  Jennifer: I didn’t say that...

  Neil: It takes skill to sit in this chair. Do you know the layers upon layers of training I have had to end up sitting in this swivel chair?

  Jennifer: Uh no, actually-

  Neil:First of all, I went to a 4-year college to study this, which is not the norm for most engineers. I’m not one of those guys who just “picked it up.” Yeah, no. I studied sound theory, how the ears hear, how to build a studio with my own two hands. I studied analog recording, 2-track tape, DATs, ADATs, the SSL sound board and its about a billion buttons.

  Jennifer: I’m not sure what any of those terms mean but-

  Neil: (on a roll)

  I studied microphones: what they’re best used for, what frequencies they pick up, what patterns. Then of course I’ve had to make friends with the all-mighty and insanely glitchy Pro-Tools, and make no mistake, the digital world is constantly changing so I have to stay on top of it ALL, adjusting every single time something new is sent my way. But the “technical” part is only half the job! The other part is dealing with PEOPLE and nothing prepares you for THAT.

  Jennifer: Well, you seem to be a…. real pro with people from what I can tell, so-

  Neil: How to keep the narrator’s confidence high while also getting the best performance you can from them. Learning to truly LISTEN: yes for popped P’s, stomach gurgles, overly moist mouths and misreads, but also movement, clothing noise, a – a – a – a – a feeling when things just aren’t clicking and an understanding of how to get things back on track. Oh and lady? My knowledge of grammar, punctuation, pronunciations, definitions and word origins would blow your mind. When narrators ask engineers the inevitable “am I pronouncing that correctly” question, most of my contemporaries have to check in with Merriam Webster like uninformed assholes. Not me. It all lives up here (taps his brain). I am overflowing with skills - subtle and large – soft and hard - a living, breathing font of knowledge if you will, but am I celebrated as such? No. No, it’s you guys on the other side of the mic who get all the glory.

  Jennifer: Is this glory though? I’m auditioning for – what the hell is this potential project called again?

  Neil:“The Vastness of Tomorrow.”

  Jennifer: “The Vastness of Tomorrow.”

  Neil: Know this: “The Immensity of Yesterday,” the precursor to “The Vastness of Tomorrow” has over eight-thousand 5-star Audible reviews, sold over ten-thousand copies in its first day alone, and made the author a mint.

  Jennifer: (hopeful)

  Oh! Did the narrators get a cut of that?

  Neil:Hahahaha. No. You get paid per finished hour.

  Jennifer: Right.

  Neil:It adds up though.

  Jennifer: Ok. Curious, why isn’t the original girl doing Book 2?

  Neil:Female listeners crucified her. Said she sounded like a tea kettle.

  Jennifer: Damn. Did she?

  Neil: Doesn’t matter. If they say she did, she did. They’re the ones buying the Audible credits. At least in this genre. Author saw you in that play you were in last month. The one where you murdered all those stuffed animals?

  Jennifer: Oh yeah?

  Neil:Said you were terrific. Said “Get that stuffed animal murderer woman in there to audition, immediately.”

  Jennifer: Aw that’s really great to hear. Hey, how did the first book do so well if the female narrator’s reviews were so bad?

  Neil:Well The Narwhal narrated the male sections. The ladies will buy anything The Narwhal narrates.

  Jennifer: The Narwhal?

  Neil: Alright, less gossiping, more auditioning.

  Jennifer: Ooookay. “…I couldn’t believe I chose to wear it on a first date. It was like a-“

  Neil: So, I was chatting with Kathleen Turner the other day.

  Jennifer: You’re friends with Kathleen Turner?

  Neil:‘Course. So the other day Kathy was saying that (dropping into a Kathleen Turner impression) “Being a sex symbol has to do with attitude, not looks.” I thought that might be a helpful anecdote for you as you navigate this new-to-you industry.

  Jennifer: … alright.

  Neil:They ask me to engineer all the celebrity narrations.

  Jennifer: Lucky you.

  Neil:Skilled me. Confidential me. Reliable me.

  Jennifer: K.

  Beat.

  Neil: I didn’t mean to be harsh before. I just love this industry and my place in it and I will defend it fiercely to all those who try to denounce it.

  Jennifer: Understood. So shall we-

  Neil:Wah-pisht!

  Jennifer: (startled)

  Geez!

  Neil has slapped a postcard up on the glass separating them.

  What is that?

  Neil:An invite. To my show.

  Jennifer: Oh. …What kind of show?

  Neil: Drumming. I’m a drummer.

  Jennifer: It’s all drumming? A drumming show?

  Neil:I work with spoken word artists – mostly female - to create rhythmic, ecstatic celebrations of sound and sensuality.

  Jennifer: …

  Neil: I drum while the poets poet. Everyone “applauds” by snapping their fingers.

  Jennifer: Yeah, I can’t see myself attending something like that.

  Neil:SCREW YOU LADYCAKES!

  Jennifer: What?

  Neil: Forgive my outburst. I felt judged and rejected by you, so I lashed out with an old memorized response. I’m a recovering misogynist.

  Jennifer: …?

  Neil:I used to be a dick to women. Know why?

  Jennifer: Why.

  Neil:Because I feared the gorgeous, generative power inside you that I and my fellow men could never hope to embody or attain. But, I am rebuilding myself one manbrick at a time to someday become worthy of a woman’s love.

  Jennifer: Ok. Um. I feel like we should finish recording this audition, yeah?

  Neil:Yes. Yes yes yes. You’re right. You’re doing wonderful work and I promise not to interrupt you or male-splain anymore.

  Jennifer: It’s mansplain.

  Neil:I K
NOW WHAT KIND OF SPLAINING I DO! Apologies. I really am working on this. We’re rolling.

  Jennifer: Are you always the engineer on sessions at this studio?

  Neil:Yes. I practically live here. Working here means you work with me.

  Jennifer: Awesome.

  Scene Three

  Vera and Cameron’s bedroom.

  They are reading in bed.

  Vera: I wish I loved the word vagina.

  Cameron: (not really listening, reading)

  Oh yeah?

  Vera:Yeah. I want to love it. I want to embrace it as a proud modern woman. As a mother. You know, I always told myself that if I ever had a daughter I would proudly use the word vagina with her. But it just feels so… clinical. And kind of gross if I’m being honest. Though technically? Did you know we’re actually supposed to refer to it as her vulva? Because that’s the outer part. The vagina is the inner part that you can’t –Anyway. I realized the other day I always call it “your bizness” with her. “Sweetie don’t rub ‘your bizness’ at the dinner table.” When she’s in the bathtub, “Cutie, stand up for me so we can wash ‘your bizness.’” Her bizness? What am I doing with that descriptor? I mean a business has to be the absolute LAST concept I want her associating with her- Cameron, are you listening to me?

  Cameron: (reading)

  I think so?

  Vera:They almost never use the word vagina in romance novels. And on the very rare occasions that they do, it always feels like a real record scratch. Yeah no, it’s almost always “pussy” this, “pussy” that. Also my “core.” Or my “heat.” “Entrance” is a big one too. And of course you can never go wrong with the classic “the place on my body that craved him the most.” “Swollen nub” is good too. “Glistening pearl” comes up from time to time, but mostly in regency romances. You know, I worry about everyone involved in those regency romances?

  Cameron: (still reading)

  Oh yeah?

  Vera:Yeah. In the last one I read, the duke rimmed the duchess’ asshole – well, her “pink rosebud.” He rimmed her pink rosebud with his tongue - inside a bumpy carriage - after a VERY long journey home from the opera. I mean, that’s risky behavior! Health-wise. Those people didn’t bathe as often as we modern people do! And rimming a rosebud with your tongue requires a certain amount of preparation no matter whose bud it is or what century you live in. Sometimes I find myself wondering about the sequel. If the author was brave enough and honest enough to write a “where are they now” type update to The Dutchess’ Dirty Secret would we find that the duke now has “mysterious” polyps on his tongue that are causing so much swelling that he can no longer deliver his courtly speech at the kingdom’s annual harvest festival? Is the duchess suddenly – yet politely - declining all offers to sit down? I mean, there had to be consequences, right?