Library e-Book : 978-1-5384-7308-5
Trade e-Book : 978-1-5384-7309-2
This digital document has been produced by Nord Compo.
CAST OF CHARACTERS
ANNOUNCER
NARRATOR
JAMES NEMEROFF – A TENSE, FAILING ARTIST. 40s.
SOBERIN – A CYNICAL, TALKATIVE LANDLORD. 60s.
CHARLES ATKINSON – A GRUFF, SINISTER STONEMASON. 60s.
MARTHA ATKINSON – CHARLES’ COLD, MYSTERIOUS WIFE. 60s.
RADIO ANNOUNCER
DJ
BUS DRIVER
PASSENGER
MUSIC:
OPENING THEME.
ANNOUNCER:
You can run, but you can’t hide. It’s far too late for that. Welcome to the dark side, where the night Never ends – as Fangoria presents … Dreadtime Stories with your host, Malcolm McDowell.
MUSIC:
UP AND UNDER:
NARRATOR:
Have you ever had a premonition? You know, that uncomfortable feeling warning you of a future event? The phenomenon is often characterized by sensations such as anxiety, uneasiness, vague feelings of disquiet suggesting impending disaster, and visual or auditory hallucinations. Premonition is sometimes referred to as a “gut-level” feeling. The sensation tends to occur prior to disasters, accidents, deaths and other traumatic and emotionally charged events. Some people even attribute them to the presence of supernatural or paranormal abilities. Abraham Lincoln had a prophetic dream of his death and funeral, which he related to both his bodyguard and his wife, mere hours before his assassination. In the dream he saw people crying in the East Wing of the White House.
As he went to investigate, he was told the weeping was for the President who had been assassinated.
His wife and bodyguard made light of the dream and days later he was shot in the head by assassin John Wilkes Booth in the Ford Theatre. His body was later held in the East Wing of the White House so that people could pay their respects. The sinking of the Titanic on its maiden voyage is one of the most talked about events in history. Did you know that there are more than 20 verified incidents of premonitions and precognitions by would-be passengers who cancelled their reservations after dreaming of the ship’s doom? Have you ever had a premonition? I warn you, they’re not to be taken lightly.
MUSIC:
UP AND OUT.
SOUND:
PENCIL SCRATCHES AT PAPER UNDER NEMEROFF.
NEMEROFF:
(NARRATES, READS ALOUD AS HE WRITES, SO NOT VERY FLUID AT FIRST): Today’s date .. is August 20th, 2012, shortly .. before midnight on what .. I am sure is the hottest .. day of .. the year. I am writing .. this at a shaky table before an open window. I’m not sure where this house is, but it must be a few miles from my apartment in Chicago, Illinois. I have had what I believe to be the most remarkable day of my life, and I’m attempting to put the details down on paper as clearly as possible while they are still fresh in my mind.(FADES)
MUSIC:
A BRIDGE - STATELY - IN AND UNDER.
NEMEROFF:
(NARRATES) Let me say at the beginning that my name is James Franklyn Nemeroff. You must remember that in order to feel the full effect of my story. James Franklyn Nemeroff. I’m 45 years old, in perfect health, hardly been sick a day in my life. By profession I’m an artist. Not a very successful one, I must confess...
SOUND:
FADE SCRIBBLING THRU TO SOBERIN POUNDING ON NEMEROFF’S DOOR. FAINT TRAFFIC SOUNDS FROM OUTSIDE.
SOBERIN:
(OUTSIDE) Nemeroff! Nemeroff!
NEMEROFF:
(SIGHS)
SOUND:
HE TAKES A FEW STEPS TO THE DOOR AND OPENS IT.
SOBERIN:
So, Mr Artist...
NEMEROFF:
(WEARILY) Mr. Soberin.
SOBERIN:
You got my rent?
NEMEROFF:
Rent?
SOBERIN:
Rent. The payment you make to me on a monthly basis, in return for which I allow you a room in this building.
NEMEROFF:
I know what rent is, Mr Soberin, it’s just that-
SOBERIN:
It’s just that you owe it, and I want it. Don’t get me wrong, Nemeroff, if we lived in a society less reliant on money, you could stay here as long as you liked, sketching your little sketches from sunup ’til sundown. But when I checked the news this morning, we weren’t living in such a Utopia. No, Mr. Nemeroff, we live in a-
NEMEROFF:
(ANTICIPATING SOBERIN – THEY’VE HAD THIS CONVERSATION BEFORE) Capitalist society.
SOBERIN:
(WITH NEMEROFF) That’s right, a Capitalist society, and I need my capital. Now, do you have it, or do I change the lock on your apartment door, and start selling your possessions on e-bay?
NEMEROFF:
Wait a second – today’s the 20th.
SOBERIN:
Today is the 20th, hottest day of the year so far, and, incidentally, my granddaughter Elizabeth’s eleventh birthday. She lives in San Diego with her mother, and she never calls.
NEMEROFF:
What I mean is, the rent is due on the last day of the month, or have you forgotten that?
SOBERIN:
I have forgotten many things in my life, Mr. Nemeroff; I’ve forgotten my age, my telephone number, my zip code, I’ve even started forgetting my beloved Lillian’s face (may she rest in peace), but I have never once forgotten on what date the rent is due.
NEMEROFF:
So, I’ve still got eleven days.
SOBERIN:
No, you have minus twenty days. You still owe me for last month, or have you forgotten?
NEMEROFF:
No, I haven’t forgotten – but I was, sort of hoping you might have.
SOBERIN:
And what are the chances of that, Nemeroff?
NEMEROFF:
Slim, Mr. Soberin.
SOBERIN:
Slim – which is what I’ll be, if I don’t get money for food. Look at me, the weight is falling off me in this heat! And you want to hear the craziest thing? -- the local market insists that I make payment before they let me take groceries out of the store. You know why? Because we live in a- say it with me...
SOBERIN & NEMEROFF:
Capitalist society.
SOBERIN:
See, you can be taught. So how about it?
NEMEROFF:
Will you take a check?
SOBERIN:
Do you have a checkbook?
NEMEROFF:
No.
SOBERIN:
Then that was a dumb question.
NEMEROFF:
OK, look. Tomorrow. You’ll have the money tomorrow. I swear.
SOBERIN:
I’m a nice guy, you know that Nemeroff? Everybody says so.
NEMEROFF:
I bet they do.
SOBERIN:
But I have my limits. And to continue like this, it’s not fair to either of us. How old are you?
NEMEROFF:
Forty-five.
SOBERIN:
Forty-five. And you still don’t know what to do with your life.
NEMEROFF:
I’m an artist.
SOBERIN:
You’re an artist who hardly ever makes any art!
Don’t get me wrong, I admire creative people, I do – maybe
