The Humans (17 page)

ERIK

Hello? . . . yeah, yeah, this is . . . yeah, bad connection . . . uh-huh—

In the window, the sudden appearance and disappearance of a woman's figure—what was it?! The back of an old woman's head as she appears picking up cigarette butts in the alley? The super's wife? She appears at the exact moment—

—the rumble of the trash compactor
strikes up again outside the basement door. In the darkness, it sounds louder than before, more disturbing. The image/sound jolts Erik; he staggers away from the window . . .

. . . down the stairs . . .

. . . he flips the fuse box switches again to no avail. The
rumble
continues.

Erik heads down the hallway toward the origin of the noise when—

—a new kind of
thud
coming from the basement hallway halts his progress—

Erik pushes through his anxiety, opens the basement door; fluorescent light from the hallway spills in—

the rumble of the trash compactor is now even louder but more familiar, more like a loud trash compactor.

The trash compactor completes its cycle.

Silence.

Erik comes back inside but the spring-hinged door doesn't stay open,

plunging the place into darkness as it closes.

Erik goes to get a chair to prop it open when—

A
thud
from above the staircase startles him, he drops the lantern . . .

Sounds of Erik's heavy breathing,

Erik groping for a chair,

Erik dragging it to the main downstairs door . . .

Suddenly fluorescent hallway light spills into the space via the basement door.

Erik is propping it open with a chair. The downstairs is now much brighter.

He picks up the dropped lantern from the floor, which has remained on,

holds it up toward the direction of the stairs . . .

As Erik approaches the staircase, its serpentine shape throws fantastic shadows on the walls.

Then, from the depths of the basement hallway,
a new sound
.

. . . click-clack, click-clack, click-clack . . .

Erik backs away from the hallway entrance.

. . . click-
clack
, click-
clack
, click-
clack
. . .

Erik's breath shortens.

. . . click-
clack
, click-
clack
, click-
clack
. . .

Erik's heart pounds, he looks toward the door.

. . . click-
CLACK
, click-
CLACK
, click-
CLACK
. . .

In a breath, a nondescript woman passes the basement door on her way down the hall,

wheeling her laundry in a cheap metal cart with a busted wheel.

The sounds slowly disappears as she rolls the cart down the hall.

. . . click-
clack
, click-
clack
, click-
clack
. . .

. . . click-clack, click-clack, click-clack . . .

This perfectly ordinary event leaves Erik feeling overwhelmed; it triggers a few ugly sobs.

Erik's face is visible via the light of the lantern.

He is quietly terrified, mumbling the Hail Mary.

Is he recovering from a panic attack?

ERIK

[What's happening to me? . . . What's wrong with me? This cannot be happening to me . . . oh God, how could I have gotten that worked up?]

DOWNSTAIRS
:
Erik can't quite move yet; he clutches a support beam or sits in a chair, taking steady breaths, trying to recover.

Alone, Erik collects himself, still unsure of what just transpired.

He goes into the kitchen and splashes some water on his face.

He can't quite believe it. He can't quite grasp it.

Rattled, the event's released something for him—a strange weight's been lifted off his chest.

He takes deep breaths, trying to ground himself.

This should all last at least fifteen seconds.

UPSTAIRS
:
Brigid enters.

BRIGID

     
(Calling down)

Dad . . . the driver's gonna have to keep circling the block if you don't—

ERIK

Yeah, no here I come . . .

BRIGID

     
(Calling down)

It's a van for some reason, so . . . I can ride with you guys to Penn Station . . . I'll get out with Aimee there, take the subway back . . . it's not far . . .

ERIK

Thanks.

UPSTAIRS
:
Brigid exits.

DOWNSTAIRS
:
Erik is still recovering . . .

He picks up Momo's blanket.

Arms full, he attempts to exit up the narrow spiral staircase when

He realizes he's left the LED lantern lit on the table.

He puts his belongings down; turns the lantern off, darkening the basement.

This greatly sharpens the shaft of fluorescent hallway light pouring through the propped-open door.

It has a tunnel-like quality.

Erik picks up his belongings again, turns toward the door and notices the shaft of light.

He steps into it.

He considers it for a moment.

He takes a deep breath.

He walks toward the door.

With no remaining natural or electric light,

the apartment's architecture seems to have vanished . . .

. . . even the indirect moonlight from the upstairs window is gone . . .

. . . the only defined shape comes from the lighted doorway.

Erik exits into the hallway and out of sight.

A very long beat.

The propped-open door begins to slowly close entirely on its own; the weight of the chair can no longer hold it open.

The door clicks shut, rendering the space a deep, true black.

THE END

MARTIN BENTSEN

STEPHEN KARAM
is the author of
Sons of the Prophet
, a finalist for the 2012 Pulitzer Prize and winner of the 2012 Drama Critics Circle, Outer Critics Circle, Lucille Lortel and Hull-Warriner awards for Best Play. Other plays include
Speech & Debate
, the inaugural production of Roundabout Underground;
columbinus
(New York Theatre Workshop) and
Dark Sisters
, an original chamber opera with composer Nico Muhly. He has written the screenplays for film adaptations of
Speech & Debate
and
The Seagull
(starring Annette Bening). He is the recipient of the inaugural Sam Norkin Off-Broadway Drama Desk Award. Stephen grew up in Scranton, PA, and is a graduate of Brown University.