by Gary Paulsen
DEVON
* * *
MASON
* * *
REGAN
* * *
Adult voice on loudspeaker
* * *
List of props:
A couple pieces of facial tissue
One stuffed cat
A duffel bag or backpack per character
Earbuds
A few books and a couple of notebooks
A baggie of small snacks (raisins, trail mix, etc.)
A number of toilet paper rolls
And, of course,
Air guitar, air drums, and air keyboards
(guitar pick and drum sticks optional)
Setting:
Middle school restroom
RUNNING TIME: 17 minutes
SIX KIDS AND A STUFFED CAT
ACT ONE
Scene: JORDAN, about 14, leaning against the wall of a middle school restroom, dabbing nose with tissue.
Time: After school.
SOUND CUE #1: LOUDSPEAKER ANNOUNCEMENT: Attention! A severe weather alert is likely to be issued for the surrounding areas. In the interest of erring on the side of caution and adhering to the guidelines of our prudent insurance liability policy, we strongly recommend that any faculty, staff, and students remaining in the school building immediately seek shelter in the nearest interior room. I repeat: Due to the slight possibility of potentially sudden onset heavy rain, please move immediately to a safe location, away from windows, and remain there until the all-clear sounds. Thank you.
(AVERY, same age, enters the lavatory from the hall, sees the first character, draws back, nervously trying to zip closed the duffel bag; a stuffed cat pokes out of the open flap. The indistinct sound of adult voices comes from offstage, teachers ushering errant students in various rooms along the hall for safety.)
JORDAN
(still dabbing at nose with tissue, to AVERY, who is hesitating by the door): Don’t step in the blood.
AVERY
What?
JORDAN
You were about to walk right though the (pauses for emphasis) splatter. It’s not nearly enough to be a (pauses for emphasis) puddle, but it’s more than a (pauses for emphasis) sprinkle.
AVERY
(wrinkling nose and shying away): Oh, right, um—
JORDAN
It didn’t come from a fistfight or, you know, spontaneous aortic rupture. (pauses for laugh that doesn’t come) This school has zero tolerance for violence. Not to mention unsupervised cardiac bleeds.
AVERY
That’s . . . good? (peers at the floor, cringes, and then looks back at JORDAN) What happened?
JORDAN
(still dabbing at nose): Bloody nose. A real gusher this time. (shrugs) What can I say? It’s an imperfect world and I have a deviated septum. (Takes roll of toilet paper and wipes the floor) Good enough. Now it’s just a (pauses for emphasis) smear.
AVERY
You know a lot of words for (pauses for emphasis) blood residue.
JORDAN
I get a lot of nosebleeds. A person can do a lot of thinking with their head back and a wad of tissue crammed up each nostril.
AVERY
You make good use of your time.
JORDAN
Hardly anyone ever says that about me. Thanks. (They nod at each other, you’re welcome) Did a teacher with a clipboard shove you in here? (AVERY nods and looks anxiously at the door as if worried she’ll enter) That woman’s meaner than a junkyard dog. No wonder they always assign her to detention duty; she’s hardwired to strike terror in the hearts of, well, everyone. The good news is that we’re totally safe from the storm if we’re anywhere near her: She’ll frighten any bad weather away, like an infantry regiment on the front line of battle.
AVERY
Oh . . . well, that’s good, I mean, everyone should be . . . I dunno, useful in some way.
JORDAN
I’m Jordan.
AVERY
Avery.
JORDAN
What’re you doing hanging around school so late?
AVERY
It, uh, was, ah, my first day.
JORDAN
Thought so. I’d have remembered the cat.
AVERY
(tucking the stuffed cat deeper in the backpack): You’re not supposed to see him.
JORDAN
Oooooookaaaaaay. An invisible stuffed cat. Gotcha. (They study each other for a long beat) That still doesn’t explain what you’re doing in school forty minutes after the last bell rang.
AVERY
I hid backstage in the auditorium and fell asleep.
JORDAN
When?
AVERY
(worried): As soon as I got here this morning. I slept all day. Is it still considered an official first day if I was sleeping under a costume rack instead of going to class?
JORDAN
(pauses, considers, nods): You were on school property so, technically, you were present. No worries, you’re good.
AVERY
(sighs, sags in relief): Why are you still here?
JORDAN
I’m always here. If I were not here, there’d be no here here. The detention hall would cease to exist if I were not given detention several times a week. (Pauses) The faculty in this school doesn’t get my humor. Apparently, I come off as difficult and challenging to authority.
AVERY
That’s too bad. A good sense of humor is an important quality to have.
JORDAN
You’d think. But wit like mine is wasted in the eighth grade. My counselor says it doesn’t pay to be subversive in middle school.
(The washroom door slams open. AVERY jumps in surprise, scurries closer to JORDAN.)
TAYLOR
(enters, snarling over a shoulder): If you don’t cut that out, I’ll squash you like a bug.
(No response from DEVON, who enters immediately behind TAYLOR, wearing earbuds and playing air guitar.)
TAYLOR
DID YOU HEAR ME?
(DEVON looks up from the guitar, smiles at TAYLOR, not noticing the aggressive face, pumps both fists in the air like a rock star, wanders upstage, and then continues playing.)
TAYLOR
I wish Devon was playing an actual guitar. Then at least I could smash it in a million pieces.
MASON
(entering the room behind TAYLOR and DEVON): Some people have no appreciation for the musical arts. It’s sad. Hey, Jordan. (notices AVERY) Hi, we haven’t met—I’m Mason. I like the stuffed cat.
(AVERY tries to shove the cat back in the bag again.)
JORDAN
(to MASON): You’re not supposed to see it.
MASON
(waves off AVERY’s discomfort): That’s cool. I got you covered on the not-seeing-the-cat deal. Very metaphysical; I like it. Have you met Taylor and Devon yet?
JORDAN
(to AVERY): Taylor’s hostile and Devon’s mellow so they make a nice matched set. An ideally balanced subset of the collection of people to be stuck in the bathroom during a storm with. (JORDAN and MASON nod knowingly at each other. AVERY looks back and forth between TAYLOR, who’s glaring at DEVON, and DEVON, who’s playing so hard the strumming arm is windmilling. AVERY starts anxiously twisting the cat’s ears, which are poking out of the bag.)
JORDAN
Devon’s the best musician in school. The only problem is Dev’s never so much as touched a real guitar. But look at that showmanship! A forward-thinking entrepreneur would send that act on the road, charge a modest admission at small clubs. Who knows? Maybe even work Dev up to an international major stadium tour gig, opening for world renowned rock gods.
MASON
Your faith in Devon has always been very touching, Jordy.
TAYLOR
It’s your fault Devon’s still wandering around like this, Jordan; you encourage bad behavior to take the focus off of yourself.
MASON
Taylor, that was uncharacteristically
aware of you. A little mean, but good eye: Jordan, no offense, does throw others under the bus to avoid the consequences of having a smart mouth and an all-around disrespectful attitude.
(Before JORDAN can respond, the door flies open again.)
REGAN
Can you believe we’re stuck in the john because of a little rain? Coach canceled practice because of (exaggerating) drizzle and a light breeze. (notices DEVON flailing around on air guitar) Santana? (MASON and JORDAN nod, TAYLOR snorts and turns away. AVERY keeps nervously twisting the cat’s ears.) Better than pretending to be Hendrix, pretending to set the pretend ax on fire. (Holds up a flat palm in a don’t-go-there gesture) Now that’s crazy. Speaking of crazy, what’s with the kid petting the stuffed cat in the bag?
MASON
That’s Avery. First day here. Seems a little more anxious than crazy.
JORDAN
And we’re not supposed to call attention to the cat. It’s the exact opposite of Devon’s guitar.
MASON
Which we’re not supposed to see so much as hear.
JORDAN
There’s a lot of existential reality in this school.
REGAN
I’m okay with that non-cat and the non-guitar. (REGAN looks back and forth between AVERY and TAYLOR. Everyone nods agreeably, except TAYLOR who looks back and from DEVON to AVERY, sneering.) Maybe we can get a picture for the yearbook of Avery and Devon and the nonentities; as editor-in-chief this year, I’m freaking out about how to fill up all the pages. I’ll take anything. Even pictures of invisible felines and imaginary stringed instruments.
TAYLOR
Everyone in this school except me is nuts.
MASON
And yet you’re the only one in this room failing. C’mon, Taylor, get your books out, let’s finish that book report so we can be one step closer to being free of each other once and for all.
REGAN
(to AVERY): Mason is tutoring Taylor.
JORDAN
Taylor’s resisting. If Mason were a germ and Taylor was an open wound, Taylor would be studied by the worldwide medical community as the future hope of preventing the spread of infectious disease.
REGAN
(still explaining to AVERY, who’s looking back and forth between REGAN and JORDAN as they share the explanation, and studying TAYLOR and MASON who are sitting together sharing a book): Mason’s only working with Taylor to get a recommendation from the principal to attend the mock congress in Boston this summer.
JORDAN
They can’t stand each other. Two people who loathe each other more do not exist in this world or any universe known to mankind or yet to be discovered. It’s awesome entertainment for the rest of us that they have to work together. We’ve placed bets on how long it’ll take one to smack the other with a thesaurus, and who’ll take the first swing.
REGAN
Our school policy is zero tolerance for bullying so, if I should personally witness such behavior, in my role as student body president, I’d have to report it. Was it report it or step in? Hmm, can’t remember.
MASON
(throws head all the way back in very put upon gesture, speaks to the ceiling in frustration): Taylor’s failing English. Our mother tongue. My whole future depends on teaching someone the difference between I-T-S and I-T-apostrophe-S.
TAYLOR
(glares at MASON and then turns and explains to AVERY): I’m not failing. I’m just not passing by as much as I should be. (turns back to MASON in frustration) And you said “it” was an imprecise and meaningless word that takes up space and should be avoided as much as possible. So what’s the big difference if there’s an apostrophe or not if I’m not supposed to use the word in the first place? Geez.
MASON
(sighs and hands TAYLOR a book, pointing to a page): Focus.
SOUND CUE #2: LOUDSPEAKER ANNOUNCEMENT: This is a weather update: The severe weather alert for the county immediately adjacent to ours is in effect until four thirty p.m. We are advised that strong winds are moving westward and that occasional rain or thundershowers are forecast with possible street flooding in low-lying areas. Total rainfall amounts are projected to vary between one to two inches.
JORDAN
Isn’t that like, a miniscule amount of precipitation that’s hardly even noticeable? I swear, this school is the drama queen of the entire district—always making a big deal out of nothing. It’s not like anyone just reported seeing animals walking two by two to get on a big boat; it’s not that kind of storm.
REGAN
Better safe than sorry. I hope they let us out soon, though; I’ve got to get over to the senior center by dinnertime because I’m volunteering today. Speaking of dinner: I’m starving. Anyone got anything to eat?
JORDAN
You’re going to eat in the bathroom? Next to a stall? Eww.
REGAN
It’s not like I was planning to suck water out of the toilet. (JORDAN tosses REGAN a baggie of trail mix/raisins pulled from a backpack. They start aiming pieces at each other’s open mouths like seals at the zoo. DEVON hurls himself on the floor.)
AVERY
(a little panicky): Devon is lying down on the floor. Why is Devon lying down on the floor like that?
JORDAN, REGAN, MASON, and TAYLOR
(as one answer): Acoustic set.
JORDAN
Devon’s resting while the lead vocalist takes the spotlight; it’s only for one song. (DEVON jumps up, starts playing again) See!
AVERY
(relieved): Oh. Okay.
(JORDAN and REGAN are eating, MASON and TAYLOR are studying, DEVON is playing air guitar in the corner. AVERY looks around the room, starting to get uneasy.)
AVERY
So, that’s it? We’re stuck in the bathroom?
JORDAN
(nodding): Yup.
AVERY
For who-knows-how-long?
JORDAN
Looks that way.
REGAN
Pull up some floor, relax.
AVERY
And none of you are worried about the storm?
JORDAN
This school is known for overreacting about bad weather. Someone sees one teeny tiny bolt of lightning in the sky and the whole place is on lockdown. It’s nothing.
MASON
Yeah, if it was really bad, they’d be telling us to hide under desks and cover our heads. Like that time last year, remember? (Everyone except AVERY and DEVON nod) This is sooooo not a big deal. The teachers haven’t even checked on us.
REGAN
(bored voice): The weather cell will pass by and then someone will get on the loudspeaker and announce we’re free to go. I give the whole containment thing another twenty, thirty minutes tops.
AVERY
I have to call my parents; they don’t know where I am. No one knows where I am.
JORDAN
That’s not entirely true; WE know where you are.
REGAN
Besides, you’re fourteen years old—your folks aren’t gonna freak out about where you are at four o’clock in the afternoon on a school day.
AVERY
My parents freak out if I lock the bathroom door when I take a shower. (reacts to their surprised faces) What if I slip on a bar of soap, hit my head, get knocked unconscious, land in the water that collects at the bottom of the tub after my forehead bumps the drain thing shut and then drown because they can’t get to me fast enough because they’re having trouble trying to unlock the door with a Phillips head screwdriver?
JORDAN
And they think that’s a likely scenario?
AVERY
My parents have heard of stranger things happening.
TAYLOR
Your parents are neurotic. (turns to MASON) Hah! Neurotic: Vocab word.
MASON
Now spell it.
TAYLOR
You’re a buzzkill. I used it correctly in a sentence. And I keep telling you: I don’t need to know h
ow to spell.
MASON
Yes, you do. We’ve gone over this before. Spellcheck on your computer is not the same thing as knowing how to spell.
(AVERY starts pacing, tugging at collar, running hands through hair.)
REGAN
(to AVERY): You okay?
AVERY
Not really. Is it just me or does this room seem to be running out of, I don’t know, oxygen?
JORDAN
Highly unlikely. (takes deep breath) Yep, oxygen levels seem fine to me. Look at my hands: My fingertips and nailbeds are nice and pink, which means my O2 saturation is good.
REGAN
(to AVERY): Are you getting claustrophobic? Do confined spaces make you uncomfortable?
AVERY
Not as much as the lack of air. Can we open a window?
TAYLOR
During a storm? (shakes head in disgust) And people think I’m the dumb one.
JORDAN
No one thinks you’re dumb. We think you’re disagreeable. Maybe even a little abusive.
MASON
(protesting): I think Taylor might be dumb. I think we can’t entirely rule out that possibility.
REGAN
(to AVERY, who is starting to pant): Sit down and put your head between your knees, breathe deep and slow. We’ll all just breathe together, calmly. No one’s going to panic or run out of air. (speaking slowly and carefully, like a hypnotist putting someone under, getting the others to start breathing together too) It’s allllllllllll goooooooooood. Verrrrrry comforting and laaaaid baaaaaaack.
(AVERY, JORDAN, MASON, REGAN, and TAYLOR quietly breathe, synching their breaths, soothing AVERY down together; the room is silent.)
