Life By Committee

Cast of Characters

Carey, an entrepreneur.

Julie, a muralist.

Barry, a recovering football fan.

Mike.

Maureen, a psychology instructor and local journalist.

Terry.

John, a heating and air conditioning specialist.

A small gang of centipedes.

 

Setting

            A well-lit, rectangular church basement. Various bottles of soft drinks and plates of treats sit on a long table in the center. Toward the back, stage right, there is a counter and little-used sink. Toward the front, stage right, there is a kid’s table and two chairs, with a small, well-stocked bookshelf. Toys are on the table and scattered about. In back is the only entrance at the base of a stairwell. Along the long sides of the basement are casement windows.

           

            CAREY, JULIE, BARRY, MIKE, MAUREEN and TERRY are seated at the table. There are winter coats on the backs of the chairs on which they sit. The neighborhood association meeting has taken a turn for the worse, and they are dueling with leadership key-words.

 

Carey: Overseeing.

Julie: Establishing.

Maureen: Empowering.

Mike: Maintaining.

Terry: Serving.

Barry: Ooh!

Julie: Advocating.

Carey: Bishop to Queen 4, and check.

Maureen: Not so fast.

Terry: Generating.

Julie: Thumb-sucking.

            (They finish with laughter.)

 

Carey: So, then it’s decided. The theme of our parade float will be “The Mind-Body-Spirit Of Yesteryear”.

(Maureen sighs.)

Julie: (to Maureen) Think: ‘Tulle by the Ton’.

(During Julie’s edicts to Maureen, A LARGE CENTIPEDE skitters from the wings from the wings, stage right, just past the apron toward the table.)

Julie: ‘Variety’. ‘Go big or go home’.

(Others have noticed THE CENTIPEDE. Maureen shakes her head to Julie.)

Julie: ‘Don’t fear the sparkle’.

(Now THE CENTIPEDE heads toward the table. BARRY places a foot across its path,

and the centipede quickly adjusts course. He eventually makes it to the cabinet behind them.)

Maureen: (to herself) When one door closes, another one opens.

Disembodied Voice: Not necessarily.

(All startle. BARRY looks to where the centipede has been, then shrugs. They continue to look about. Then, sitting toward the back, in a small padded chair, just close enough to be part of the group, but only as far back to make it plausible that the neighborhood association didn’t know he had arrived, JOHN is revealed through the brightening of a small practical lamp. He wears dark blue coveralls, with ‘Sparky’ embroidered on the left breast, and a badge saying ‘Tom’s Heating and Air’ on the other.)

Carey: What is your name, and what exactly do you mean?

John: John.

(MAUREEN laughs. TERRY nods approval.)

John: Doors don’t open themselves without a motion sensor.

(There is a loud thunderclap. Nearly simultaneously, all seven are looking at their phones. There is another thunderclap, and the stage goes dark. There is a shout. The set is doused with soft white light indicating the activation of emergency lights inside the room.)

Julie: What?

Barry: My phone. (Laughs. It is clear that he was the one who shouted.) I don’t know why I’m looking at it. It doesn’t show alerts.

Carey: Tornado Warning. This county.

Barry: I don’t care. Well…I care, but I’m already in a basement. I don’t need to know everything.

(More thunderclaps are heard, along with the wail of a siren.)

Maureen: Aren’t we supposed to do something with the windows?

John: I know where they all are.

(All turn their phone-lights on JOHN, except MIKE, who is mantra humming. JOHN disappears, and can be heard darting up the back stairs.)

Barry: Someone should crack ‘em open. Otherwise they’d open automatically.

Anonymous Voice: How Zen!

Julie: Who said that?

(As everyone shrugs, JULIE goes to the cabinets under the sink and finds two candles. She lights them and places them in empty bottles on the table. MIKE continues to hum, and CAREY, TERRY and JULIE join him. The siren is heard once again, along with loud, crackling thunder. MAUREEN, then BARRY reveal themselves sitting beneath the table with their phone lights, and join in the humming. JOHN returns and makes the rounds of the basement, cracking open the four casement basement windows. Then he sits at the table and joins the humming.)

Terry: Shouldn’t we be sitting in a corner? Which corner should we be sitting in?

Carey: I think they changed it.

Maureen: (laughs) …I mean, how can they…

John: I don’t think anything’s comin’.

(CAREY, TERRY, and  JULIE’S phone lights find JOHN again.)

Carey: I mean, everyone’s welcome to our meetings, but how did you…

John: Oh. Monthly service. I brought the keys, but the door was open. (He jangles a set

of keys on his belt.) I looked out, and it was just sprinklin’. Kinda.

(ANOTHER CENTIPEDE skitters from stage left, back, to the apron of the stage.)

Maureen: You looked out?

John: Big drops. Like grapes fallin’.

Carey: Takin’ chances.

John: Evenly spaced. It was weird.

(THE CENTIPEDE considers the world past the proscenium, then thinking the better of it, skitters off, stage right.)

Mike: Even Toto knew better than to do that.

Carey: Do you know which corner, John?

John: No, I don’t.

Julie: Wow. Want some Divinity?

(JULIE offers JOHN a plate. JOHN accepts divinity.  TERRY is green with envy. The thunder lessens.)

Maureen: ‘The Mind-Body-Spirit of Yesteryear’ is a stupid theme!

(EVERYONE BUT JOHN hum in accord.)

John: I don’t have a dog in this fight.

Carey: But we have to think of a theme tonight.

Terry: ‘The Float Formerly Named…’

Everyone Else, Even John: NO!

(The thunder ends. BARRY finds a blanket from where he sits and places it on MAUREEN, who is trying to sleep.)

John: Heating and Air Conditioning’s a changing field. Who knows what part of the country will need more of which in five years.

Terry: Guy I work with says arithmetic’s a Chinese plot.

Maureen: (wakes) What?          

Terry: Global Warming stats, or Economics. It’s the numbers. A guy I work with thinks they’re a lie.

Maureen: What did you tell him?

Terry: I asked him what Tom Brady’s passing average was last season.

Maureen: (laughs) I can’t sleep.

Carey: I think we can leave now.

John: If only to get home before the next one hits.

Terry: I think we can emerge.

Julie: But first, a song!

(All turn to MIKE, who suddenly has a six-string acoustic Fender, and a large pillow, which he places on a chair. He sits on the pillow, strums and sings.)

Mike:  In our heart of hearts we know our float won’t get first place.

            But it’s better than our second choice: “Floaty McFloat Face”.

(JULIE reacts, placing her head in her hands. MAUREEN consoles her.)

            With all the fingered pies, with all the starts and stops,

            We believe it’s for the good, in our heart of hearts.

 

            Here’s to the Sutton Block Coalition.

            Here’s to the living of life by committee.

            Here’s to the treats and the vaguest of missions.

            A seat on the board and funds from the city.

(At this point, a few CENTIPEDES begin to cross the apron of the stage, making an appearance one by one. They go from one side of the stage to the other, at times pausing in the middle.)

            There’s a poster in the shop, a representation of our creed.

            On the hallowed parchment, every word.

            The copy even pandered to those too cool to read.

            Past the phrase: ‘We The People’, everything was blurred.

 

            In our heart of hearts we know that we should act.

            Form a Cellar Republic, and if ever we’re attacked,

            we’ll fire Hi-C artillery. Divinity as darts.

            We’ll see it through, if we’re true to our heart of hearts.

(The REST OF THE COMMITTEE, and JOHN give the song a clap, along with a chorus of ‘ih…’ All but MIKE stand.)

Carey: Your proposal is something for the next meeting, Mike. It’s already late.

John: (as he closes the windows in the basement.) I still gotta check those pilot lights. (then, exits.)

Barry: (as he walks to the base of the stairs to leave.) We don’t have a quorum for new business like that.

Julie: (following.) By the way, where is Pete?

Terry: (following.) I’m allergic to celery anyway.

Maureen: (Begins to follow, but pauses first. To Mike) You should think long and hard before proposing secession. (Then speaks over her shoulder as she follows the rest of the committee.) Might be a good idea, though. Bring it up at the next meeting.

(MIKE remains. He strums a final chord.)