36: HOTEL HOLLYWOOD - by Ed Valentine
© February 5, 2010 * ed@edvalentine.com
LIGHTS UP: A BELLHOP with bags. 1940’s clothing. Dark corridor behind him.
BELLHOP:
Right this way.
(He begins to walk.)
She walks down the hallway,
Following right behind him.
He’s smart enough not to make small talk. He knows who she is, of course.
Everybody knows who she is.
If he’s surprised that she came back here, to the place where –
Well, he doesn’t show it.
He knows the story, of course. What happened in Room 1607.
Everyone knows the story. That’s why they come here, most of ‘em.
And many of ‘em ask for Room 1607. That’s why that room’s blocked off.
Partly why. There are other reasons.
1607.
And she’s asked for that room, and it’s not in use.
So she asked for the room next door.
She follows him down the hallway.
1601.
He can feel the air crackle.
1602.
He can hear her breathing.
1603.
He can hear her heels hitting the carpet.
1604?
Silence.
1605.
Silence.
1606.
Then 1607.
Room 1607.
He knows she’s fallen behind him.
In the reflection of the doorknob
(we do keep ‘em shiny at Hotel Hollywood)
He can see her give a light little touch to the doorknob of 1607.
He walks on.
He fumbles with the bags for a moment.
He is not a clumsy man.
This gives her a moment more,
Just a moment more.
And then: a choice: what to do know?
He decides.
With not a trace of sympathy nor knowledge,
He’s just…
A Bellhop, after all, a young buck in Hollywood, a know-nothing.
He says,
“Your room, Miss.”
Not “Ma’am,” but “Miss.”
And from behind her sunglass mask
She says
“Thank you.”
She passes him and enters the room
A smudge of dark glasses, fur, and perfume –
Then shuts the door.
She’s gone.
But before she does, she hands him a fifty.
A fifty!
(He shows the bill.)
The biggest tip he ever got.
-
And he’ll never spend it.
-
(Snaps out of it. Produces keys.)
Your room, Miss.
(He looks at you. Indicates room. Lights burn out slowly.)
END OF PLAY.
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment