I missed a couple of Saturdays of posting bits from my vaults, and I may even be running a bit short on material, but here’s something that might be of interest. This play was written a long, long time ago, in the 1980s, when I was working at the Weyburn Review. Someone (the Saskatchewan Writers Guild, maybe?) held a playwriting contest. I entered this, and I was one of the finalists…honorable mention, maybe? I remember an awards ceremony of some sort in the old theatre department at the University of Regina, in what is now the movie soundstage. It’s never been produced. (I’m open to offers!)
I haven’t touched it since, so it’s a real blast from the past, from a 20-something version of myself.
Enjoy!
***
THE SHELTER
By Edward Willett
THE CURTAIN RISES ON A WINDOWLESS ROOM OF GRAY CONCRETE. THERE ARE TWO DOORS; ONE, UP RIGHT CENTRE, IS MADE OF STEEL, ITS RED PAINT FLAKING. A HEAVY METAL BAR HOLDS IT CLOSED. THE OTHER, LEFT, IS ALSO OF METAL, BUT IS NOT BARRED. THE ONLY FURNISHINGS ARE TWO SETS OF BUNK BEDS, ONE AGAINST THE WALL AT RIGHT, THE OTHER IN THE CORNER UP LEFT, AND A WOODEN TABLE DOWN CENTRE WITH FOUR CHAIRS, TWO BEHIND AND ONE TO EITHER SIDE. THERE IS ALSO A BOOKSHELF DOWN LEFT. THE ROOM IS LIT BY A KEROSENE LAMP ON THE TABLE. NEXT TO IT IS A BATTERY-OPERATED RADIO AND SOME STACKED PLATES AND SILVERWARE, REMNANTS OF A MEAL.
SEAN, A MUSCULAR YOUNG MAN, 17 OR 18, IS SEATED AT THE TABLE, SLOWLY TURNING THE TUNING DIAL OF THE RADIO BUT HEARING NOTHING BUT POPS, SQUEALS AND STATIC.
PETER IS SEATED ON THE LOWER BUNK UP LEFT, READING A BOOK. HE IS THE SAME AGE AS SEAN.
SEAN
Nothing.
HE SNAPS OFF THE RADIO.
PETER
What did you expect?
SEAN
Why isn’t the government telling us what to do?
PETER
If there still is a government, I doubt it knows.
SEAN
Don’t you even care? Your parents are out there–and mine and Crystal’s. And your girlfriend’s.
PETER
Your parents went fishing up by Prince Albert, you said. And mine and Lisa’s are in New Zealand. They’re all better off than we are.
SEAN
You really think there’s been a war?
PETER
You’ve been listening to the news about war in China and all those countries that used to be the Soviet Union. You felt the shock waves.
SEAN
Maybe it was an earthquake.
PETER
In Saskatchewan?
SEAN
It happens. My dad told me about a tremor in Radville once.
PETER
What we felt yesterday was no tremor. Face it, Sean. Somebody did it. Somebody pressed the button.
SEAN
You can’t be sure! I think we should go upstairs and look.
PETER
Don’t be stupid. Those missile silos just a few miles across the border must have been hit. The radiation count must be sky-high. You go outside, you’ll die.
SEAN
If there was a war.
PETER
There was.
SEAN STARES AT THE DOOR A LONG MOMENT, THEN TURNS ANGRILY.
SEAN
If you really believed there’d been a war you wouldn’t just sit there!
PETER
What should I do? Bang my head against the wall?
SEAN
Maybe. If I stay down here long enough I probably will. (PAUSE) So what if you’re right? What if there has been a war? How long before we can go outside?
PETER
I’m not sure. Dad intended to install a Geiger counter, but he never got around to it…
SEAN
Your old man never got around to a lot of things. This house is the joke of the town. Three-color paint job, holes in the roof, a patchwork lawn–and a bomb shelter in the back yard.
PETER
Which is keeping you alive!
SEAN
You haven’t answered my question. How long do you intend to keep us down here?
PETER
Dad’s stored enough food for six months.
SEAN
Six months? Six months? In this stinking hole?
PETER
We might risk going out for short periods in a few weeks.
SEAN
Oh, great. Weeks. That’s a big improvement. Weeks in a hole in the ground with a jerk, his girlfriend, and my kid sister.
PETER
Would you rather be dead?
SEAN
Maybe.
SEAN PACES FOR A FEW SECONDS AS PETER RETURNS TO HIS BOOK; TURNS AND LOOKS AT HIM, THEN SHAKES HIS HEAD.
You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?
PETER
What?
SEAN
You heard me, Hillman. Listen, I know your type. There’s one in every class. Knows everything. Always puts his hand up. Always knows the answers other kids screwed up. Teachers love them–but the funny thing is, Hillman, kids like that don’t have a lot of friends. In gym class, they’re always the last ones picked for teams. They’re never elected class president. Nobody sits with them on the bus.
PETER
I assume you have a point.
SEAN
You think it’s different now, don’t you? You think that since this is your family’s shelter and you know all about this radiation stuff, you’re in charge. You think you’re going to tell us what to do. You figure this is where you finally get even with the world for treating you like the jerk you are.
PETER
You’re crazy.
SEAN
Come on, Hillman, admit it. You like this, don’t you? Don’t you?
PETER
So what if I do? What do you know about it? Big hockey player, girls following you around like flies in a farmyard. Elected school president on a platform of a party a month. People laughing at every stupid thing you say, like you’re some kind of hero. You should try being me, Fuller–one of us wierd types. Bored to death in classes that move at your speed, always the butt of jokes and stupid comments just because we aren’t good at sports and would rather read than hang around the rink or the Seven-Eleven.
HE POINTS AT THE DOOR.
Well, I’ll tell you something. Stick-handling isn’t worth anything anymore. This isn’t the team dressing room. There aren’t going to be any girls hanging around that door when we go out. What’s going to be important from now on is brains, Fuller–brains. The smart ones will survive.
SEAN
Like you?
PETER
Yeah. Like me.
SEAN
I’ll bet you set this whole thing up! There hasn’t been any war, has there? This is some kind of sick practical joke. (Strides toward the door.) Well, count me out!
PETER LEAPS UP AND BLOCKS THE DOOR.
PETER
I won’t let you go out there and kill yourself!
SEAN CLENCHES HIS FISTS.
SEAN
And just how do you plan to stop me?
PETER
I’ll do whatever I have to.
THE TENSE TABLEAU IS BROKEN BY THE ENTRANCE OF LISA, PETER’S GIRLFRIEND. SHE TAKES IN THE SITUATION AT A GLANCE.
LISA
Before you kill each other, would one of you please go finish up the dishes? I believe we agreed to share that job?
SEAN
Get Crystal to help.
LISA
Crystal has been helping. But anyway, Sean, it isn’t really your help I want.
SHE LOOKS AT PETER.
PETER
Sean?
SEAN, IGNORING HIM, CROSSES TO BUNKS AT RIGHT AND LAYS DOWN ON THE BOTTOM ONE. PETER HESITATES, THEN MOVES AWAY FROM THE DOOR AND FOLLOWS LISA OUT, WITH A BACKWARD GLANCE.
AFTER HE’S GONE, SEAN REMAINS MOTIONLESS, RIGHT ARM THROWN ACROSS HIS FACE, HAND CLENCHED INTO A FIST. AFTER A MOMENT CRYSTAL ENTERS. SHE IS A FEW YEARS YOUNGER THAN THE OTHERS, AND DRESSED IN THE LATEST MALL-CRAWLING FASHIONS. SHE STOPS IN THE DOORWAY AND LOOKS AT HER BROTHER, SHRUGS, AND BEGINS A SLOW, BORED CIRCUIT OF THE ROOM–BOOKCASE, BUNKS, FINALLY THE TABLE, WHERE SHE REACHES FOR THE RADIO.
CRYSTAL
Anything good on?
SHE TURNS ON THE RADIO AND STATIC SQUEALS.
Come in, Countdown Canada, I need you!
SEAN LEAPS UP AND TURNS THE RADIO OFF.
SEAN
Stop it!
CRYSTAL
What’s eating you?
SEAN
There’s nothing to hear but static. You’re just wasting the batteries.
CRYSTAL
If there’s nothing to hear, what difference does it make?
THIS EARNS HER A GLARE, SO SHE SHRUGS AND SITS DOWN AT THE TABLE.
I wish I had a Walkman. Or a ghetto blaster. This place is driving me nuts.
SEAN
Yeah. Me, too.
CRYSTAL
There’s nothing to do. And nobody to do it with.
SEAN
There’s Peter and Lisa.
CRYSTAL
Peter the Brain and Lisa the Brainess?
SEAN LOOKS AT HER THOUGHTFULLY, THEN MAKES UP HIS MIND AND SITS BESIDE HER, LOWERING HIS VOICE IN CONSPIRATORIAL FASHION.
SEAN
You know what I think?
CRYSTAL
You think?
SEAN
Shut up and listen.
HE LEANS CLOSE.
I think we’ve locked ourselves in here for no reason.
CRYSTAL
But the war…?
SEAN
What war? A little earth tremor and some radio trouble?
HE POINTS AT THE DOOR.
I’ll bet you outside that door is nothing but a sunny Saturday afternoon and a bunch of our friends wondering where the heck we’ve gone.
CRYSTAL
That’s not what Peter says.
SEAN
So what do you care?
CRYSTAL
I may not like him, but he is a brain, which you, big brother, are not–otherwise we wouldn’t have come over here in the first place.
SEAN
So I need a tutor in algebra! Big deal. You don’t need algebra to play hockey. Now look. I say we get out of here–now, while Peter’s in the other room. Out that door, up the stairs and on our way.
HE GLANCES AT HIS WATCH.
I’ll even make my date with Rhonda.
CRYSTAL
Rhonda? That airhead?
SEAN
If I was interested in brains I’d date Peter. What do you say?
CRYSTAL
I’d love to see the look on Peter’s face when he comes back in here and finds us gone.
SEAN
Not me. He’s crazy–certifiably, Grade A crazy.
HE STANDS.
So, you ready?
CRYSTAL
Sure. Oh! No, wait a minute. I have to get my school bag.
SHE DASHES OUT. SEAN STARES AFTER HER, THEN SHAKES HIS HEAD AND TURNS TO THE RADIO. HE SWITCHES IT ON AGAIN, BUT TURNS IT OFF QUICKLY AS STATIC SQUEALS. HE PICKS UP HIS OWN SCHOOL BOOKS ON THE TABLE, THEN SHRUGS AND LEAVES THEM THERE, TURNING TO THE DOOR. HE HAS HIS HANDS ON THE BAR WHEN LISA ENTERS.
LISA
Going somewhere?
SEAN LETS GO OF BAR AS IF IT BURNED HIM.
SEAN
Where would I go?
LISA
That’s what I’m wondering. You’re not seriously thinking about going up there, are you? Peter says —
SEAN
I don’t care what Peter says!
PETER ENTERS BEHIND LISA.
PETER
I’m trying to save your life.
SEAN
I’ll look after my own life!
HE STORMS OUT LEFT.
Crystal!
LISA
What’s his problem?
PETER
He thinks I’m making it all up–the war, the radiation, everything. He thinks I tricked him down here just to get even with him.
LISA
Even with him? For what?
PETER
For being popular when I’m not.
LISA
You’re popular with me.
PETER
I doubt Sean understands that, either.
HE TAKES HER HAND.
His problem is he doesn’t have enough imagination.
LISA
If he thinks you staged World War Three just to get back at him for being a jock, he’s got more imagination than he needs.
PETER
Wrong kind of imagination. Sean’s problem is he can’t imagine that anything could disrupt his comfortable little world of hockey and girls. He can’t believe it’s gone.
LISA
I’m not sure I believe it either.
PETER GIVES HER A SURPRISED LOOK.
Oh, I believe there’s been a war–it fits the facts. And the news has been awfully tense lately. But in my heart I can’t help thinking if I go out that door everything will be just the way it’s always been.
HER VOICE DROPS A LITTLE.
And I’m worried about our parents…
PETER
New Zealand wouldn’t even be hit. They’re perfectly safe. At least…as safe as anyone can be. What I’m worried about is the scale of the exchange. If it was big enough to trigger nuclear winter, then no one on the planet is safe.
LISA
How do we get word to them?
PETER
We don’t–not now, anyway. Until the fallout has subsided, we can’t leave this shelter. And what happens after that depends on how much of the government is left, and what kind of resources the country still has–and if the missiles have stopped flying. If things are as bad as they might be, our biggest concern once our supplies are gone down here is just going to be staying alive.
LISA
What about the people who don’t have bomb shelters?
PETER
Some basements might provide enough protection. Otherwise…
LISA
Is it really worth it?
PETER
What?
LISA
Staying alive. Is it really worth the struggle? I mean, what’s the point? Everything’s gone, isn’t it? Nothing is ever going to be the same again. Cars, television, movies–it’s all gone forever. I wanted to be a computer programmer. Now what will I end up doing? Crouching naked in a cave eating raw meat and picking lice out of my children’s hair?
PETER
No! Lisa, it doesn’t have to be like that. We can scavenge what’s left of the old world, for a while–until we can rebuild. And we will rebuild. Us–and our children. And maybe our grandchildren will inherit a world that will be better than this one–maybe we’ve learned our lesson.
LISA
Our grandchildren?
PETER
Uh–well, you know, that’s just a figure of speech–I meant, you know, uh, this generation’s grandchildren–
LISA
Uh-huh.
SHE LEANS OVER AND KISSES HIM; AFTER A MOMENT HE RESPONDS. THEY PULL APART AS SEAN ENTERS, CRYSTAL TRAILING.
SEAN
Don’t let us bother you–we’re just leaving.
CRYSTAL
Yeah–looks like you’d rather be alone, anyway.
LISA
Sean, you can’t be serious! You’re not taking your little sister out there?
CRYSTAL
He’s not taking me anywhere. I’m going home, that’s all.
PETER
But don’t you understand? There is no home! If you leave here you’ll die!
SEAN
We’ve already been through this. I’m going.
HE GLARES AT CRYSTAL.
You coming?
CRYSTAL
You know it.
PETER DASHES FORWARD, PLANTS HIMSELF BETWEEN SEAN AND THE DOOR, AS BEFORE.
PETER
No!
THIS TIME SEAN DOESN’T HESITATE. HE PUNCHES PETER IN THE STOMACH, AND AS PETER DOUBLES OVER, GRABS HIS SHOULDERS AND THROWS HIM TO THE GROUND. AS LISA KNEELS BESIDE PETER, SEAN SNATCHES THE BAR FROM THE DOOR AND YANKS THE DOOR OPEN, REVEALING DARKNESS BEYOND. HE SHOVES CRYSTAL THROUGH, THEN FOLLOWS HER, PULLING THE DOOR CLOSED WITH A CRASH.
LISA
Peter! Pete, are you all right?
PETER
Stop–stop them–
LISA
I can’t! Petey, I can’t! How can I?
PETER
Stop them…
PETER FAINTS. LISA SLOWLY GETS TO HER FEET. SHE LOOKS DOWN AT PETER ONCE, THEN AT THE DOOR; THEN QUICKLY, AS HER MIND IS MADE UP, FLINGS OPEN THE DOOR AND FOLLOWS THE OTHERS.
LISA
Sean! Crystal! Come back!
THE DOOR CRASHES SHUT, AND FOR A TIME THERE IS SILENCE ON STAGE. THEN PETER MOANS, ROLLS OVER, AND STRUGGLES INTO A SITTING POSITION, CLUTCHING HIS STOMACH. USING THE LEG OF THE BUNK BED FOR SUPPORT, HE PULLS HIMSELF AS UPRIGHT AS HE CAN, AND STAGGERS TO THE DOOR LEFT. HE CALLS THROUGH IT.
PETER
Lisa? Lisa!
NO ANSWER. PETER DISAPPEARS OFFSTAGE. A MOMENT LATER HE RE-ENTERS.
No. Oh, no.
HE STAGGERS TO THE TABLE AND COLLAPSES IN ONE OF THE CHAIRS, LOWERING HIS HEAD INTO THE CROOK OF HIS ARM ON THE TABLE. WHEN HE RAISES IT AGAIN AFTER A MOMENT, HIS VOICE IS HARSH, GRIM.
Survival. That’s what matters–survival. Somebody has to survive. Somebody has to live. Somebody…oh, Lisa.
HE STANDS, SLOWLY CIRCLES THE ROOM.
All right, Pete, take stock. You’re in good shape. Lots of food, water. Seeds for a garden, when it’s safe to go out. The house is probably still standing… the important thing is to live. Survive. Rebuild. Your grandchildren may have a better world than…
HIS VOICE TRAILS OFF, AND HE SITS HEAVILY AT THE TABLE.
Grandchildren?
NUMBLY HE TURNS ON THE RADIO, AND STATIC HISSES AGAIN AS HE ROTATES THE DIAL. ABRUPTLY HE SNAPS IT OFF, AND SPEAKS CLEARLY.
No. If I get Lisa back inside quickly, there’s still a chance. Even if it’s too late–I have to try.
HE GOES TO THE DOOR AND OPENS IT–LISA IS STANDING THERE.
Lisa!
HE GRABS HER, PULLS HER INTO THE ROOM, CLOSES THE DOOR BEHIND HER.
We have to get you into the shower. We have to wash the fallout off —
HE TRIES TO PULL HER OFFSTAGE, BUT SHE RESISTS.
LISA
No, Peter.
PETER
But, Lisa —
LISA
Peter, Sean was right.
PETER
What?
LISA
There hasn’t been a war. There’s nothing out there but sunshine and blue skies and children playing up and down the street. There was an earthquake in Montana–we felt the tremor. That’s all.
PETER
But–but the radio —
LISA
The tremor probably shook something loose.
PETER WALKS SLOWLY TO TABLE, SITS DOWN BLANKLY.
PETER
No war. How could I be so stupid?
LISA GOES TO HIM, PUTS HER ARM AROUND HIS SHOULDERS.
LISA
You’re the smartest stupid person I know.
PETER
Sean will be sure he was right–that this was some kind of practical joke. He’ll tell people I locked him down here overnight. Everybody in town will think I’m crazy–just like they think my father is crazy for building this shelter in the first place.
LISA
I don’t think you’re crazy.
PETER
You’ll be the only one. (PAUSE) You know what’s really scary, Lisa? You tell me there was no war, and the first thing I feel isn’t relief, it’s outrage–anger. I was so sure! And I had plans. We were going to survive, be in on the start of a new world, built on the ashes of the old… now it just sounds silly. Sean was right about that, too. I liked being in charge. For once in my life, I was the team captain–the class president. The one people looked to. For once brains mattered more than good looks or athletic ability. That’s how I saw it. But I didn’t fool Sean–I just made a fool of myself!
LISA
Pete, listen to me. You weren’t being stupid. I was just as convinced as you were. You were prepared, that’s all. If there had been a war, we would have survived–you and your father have seen to that. But, Pete–
SHE TAKES HIS HAND, AND HE TURNS TO LOOK AT HER.
If you could survive World War Three, don’t you think you can survive peace, even at the cost of a little more teasing? And after all, you don’t have to wait for a war to start building a new world. Our grandchildren could still inherit a better one than this.
PETER
Our grandchildren?
LISA
Isn’t that what you told me?
PETER SMILES AND STANDS, PULLING LISA UP, TOO.
PETER
And what will they say about their crazy old grandfather who imagines wars that never happened?
LISA
They’ll probably be a lot more interested in all the wonderful things he imagined that he made happen.
PETER
I hope you’re right. But I hope they’ll at least be interested in how brave their grandmother was during their grandfather’s make-believe war, when she went out to try to save two people.
LISA
I think what you did was braver.
PETER
Me? I almost left you there.
LISA
But you didn’t. You were coming out after me–and you were the only one who really knew the danger. I think our grandchildren will be proud of that, too. They’d better be, or granny will know the reason why!
PETER LAUGHS.
PETER
Well, come on, Granny, let’s get out of this hole in the ground.
THEY GO TO THE DOOR; BUT JUST BEFORE EXITING, PETER STOPS AND RETURNS TO THE RADIO. HE TURNS UP THE VOLUME, LISTENS TO THE STATIC A MOMENT, THEN BANGS THE RADIO WITH HIS FIST. AT ONCE THE STATIC GIVES WAY TO ROCK MUSIC. PETER SMILES RUEFULLY AT LISA, AND TOGETHER THEY GO OUT, LEAVING THE RADIO PLAYING.
CURTAIN
