Short Play 12 – Johannes Cabal and the Grave Urchins

SOCIAL STATEMENT!

SOCIAL STATEMENT!

For this play, we were ordered to write a fan fiction. Or something like that. I don’t really remember.

Johannes Cabal and the Grave Urchins
A Fanfic of the work of Jonathan L. Howard

            We hear rain and anemic thunder. As the lights rise, we see most of the stage is bare. Near the middle, there is a 12×12 sheet with strong aspirations of sepia. It is this small space where our story occurs. Outside, whether far upstage or directly apparent to the audience’s view, we find a number of vagrants, charmingly dressed in all misleadingly elegantly finery of the vaguely Victorian vagabond. A few of them are holding rain sticks, which they periodically rotate in a desultory fashion, ensuring the rain’s longevity while sacrificing its rhythm and verisimilitude. One or two other charming faux chimney sweeps sports a thunder sheet, which is shaken on occasion to offer the barest suggestion of atmospheric disturbance, eliciting both stiff-jawed nods of approval from nostalgia-minded critics and gawp-mawed stares of delight from credulous children of all ages.

            Now as for the sheet itself. Upon it is depicted (either through the application of generous counts of dark brown ink, or ideally through stenciled projection) numerous graves. The graves appear to recede almost infinitely into the background. Before this sheet huddle five URCHINS.

            As if the symbolic value of these URCHINS were not already as obvious as a valet’s intercession between a patron’s promenade and a bathroom entryway, each of the downtrodden children wears a small sign around its neck (pray note that the term “it” has been chosen intentionally, being simultaneously a clever barb against the dehumanization of the poor and a thickly unnoticed commentary on the author’s use of human symbolism). The signs, surprising no one, read “Arts,” “Labor,” “Education,” “Science,” and “Leisure.” The URCHINS huddle together, whisper, and otherwise do whatever the author (in his ironically limited and distanced knowledge) believes homeless children to do on a dark and rainy day.

            Finally, when the ennui of the art house was just turning the corner from oppressive to overbearing, we see the entrance of Johannes CABAL, a necromancer of some little infamy. A hair above six feet tall, the Brit-by-way-of-Germany is a thin and severe looking man of his early thirties, his strict blond hair obscured by a tall black hat, and the rest of him by a black coat, black pants, black boots, black cravat, and mercifully white shirt. His hands are covered with large, heavy, and naturally black gloves. The only color to be found in his ensemble is two large, brown, burlap sacks, which he carries over his right shoulder; as well as blue-fogged baffled spectacles that obscure his eyes despite the weather.

            The URCHINS freeze and glance nervously in his direction. His spectacles fail to obscure his narrow-eyed glare.

            Pause. Then, CABAL steps behind the sheet, and we can hear him fuddling with two heavy, organic objects.

            The URCHINS look at one another, conspiratorially.

LEISURE

Who’s that?

EDUCATION

You don’t know!? That’s Johannes Cabal, he’s a necromancer.

SCIENCE

What’s that?

ARTS

It’s a type of mouse.

EDUCATION

Is not! It’s someone wot makes zombies, wot raises the dead!

LABOR

Them aren’t real.

EDUCATION

There’s one wot just passed us! You sayin’ he ain’t real?

SCIENCE

Just coz he’s real, don’t mean he’s a neck-a-whatever.

EDUCATION

I tell ya he is! I’ll bet ya anything.

ARTS

If we had anything to bet.

CABAL (offstage)

And you would win that bet, boy. But as you have nothing to wager, and my kind are a somewhat infamous and dangerous lot, I recommend to emulate the habits of my trade-subjects and go-to-ground, or I shall feel quite justified in eliminating witnesses to my questionable activities.

            Pause.

LABOR

What?

EDUCATION

He’s gonna kill us!

ARTS

Let’s go!

LEISURE

Where!? There’s nowhere to go.

SCIENCE

Well, we could… we could…

            There is a loud thump behind the screen. All freeze. After a moment, CABAL reenters. Against all probability, the URCHINS grow tenser.

            Pause.

CABAL

Which of you urchins would care to earn a penny?

LABOR

I would!

ARTS

I would, sir!

EDUCATION

I would, Master!

ALL

Me! Me!

CABAL

Well then, I have exhumed two test subjects and have returned to procure them, but I’m finding some difficulty managing the two at once. Which of you is interested in dragging a bag three miles back to my home?

            Pause.

LEISURE

What’s in the bag?

CABAL

I shall leave that to the extent of your considerably expansive imagination and considerably limited comprehension. Suffice it to say, the successful candidate shall have a strong back and a weak nose. I’ll leave your quorum to discuss the matter further.

LABOR

Wait! That’s hours of work, for less than one meal! We deserve more.

CABAL

Then I recommend you avail yourself to the local constabulary and complain of my unfair business practices. He shall be far more concerned with the matter of grave robbing, of course, and I shall be forced to defend my small business with extreme prejudice, both against the long arm of the law and against a willful and impractical labor pool, but by all means, avail yourself.

EDUCATION

You can’t intimidate us!

CABAL

History teaches me otherwise.

ARTS

You can hire all of us, three pennies each, or you can hire none of us!

CABAL

One penny.

LEISURE

Two!

CABAL

One.

LABOR

Fine. One.

CABAL

Excellent. Now you five decide which of you gets that penny. You may all assist, or one of you may assist, it makes no difference to me.

ARTS

We said one penny each!

CABAL

And I said one penny. I’ll leave it to you to decide which of you five is strongest.

EDUCATION

We are united, sir.

CABAL

Of course you are. For now.

            CABAL again returns behind the screen. We here more fumbling. The URCHINS stare at each other.

EDUCATION

We have to remain united.

LABOR

What if he just goes on without us? One penny’s better than no pennies.

SCIENCE

And what about the rest of us?

EDUCATION

He needs us! We have the power! We can demand two, three pennies each! It’s not as though he hasn’t got it. As long as we’re united, he has no choice but to deal with us.

LABOR

But what if he walks away?

ARTS

We have to take that chance.

            CABAL reenters, slowly dragging the two burlap bags. There are obviously dead bodies in them.

CABAL

All right, which of you is strongest?

ARTS

No deal, sir. You’ll pay us three pennies each, or you’ll do without us.

THUNDER SHEET OPERATOR

I got a strong back.

CABAL

(indicates thunder sheet operator) He says he’s got a strong back.

SCIENCE

He’s not even in the play!

CABAL

Yet there he is, offering his labor for a penny.

SCIENCE

He never said a penny.

LEISURE

And he’s not real.

CABAL

Looks real enough to me. Perhaps I’ll engage his services.

LABOR

I’ll do it! Gimme the penny!

EDUCATION

No!

ARTS

Wait! Me! I got a strong back!

EDUCATION

Wait!

SCIENCE

Me! I can do it!

LEISURE

I got a strong back!

CABAL

Very well. Which of you is strongest?

            Pause.

CABAL

I’ll need to know which of you is the strongest. Which of you is most qualified to do this job?

            Silence. The URCHINS stare at each other. Instantly, they spring into a vicious fight. They form a repulsive organism of punches, yanks, kicks, bites, scrapes, and all manner of horror. When the fighting is finally over, everyone is collapsed and exhausted. CABAL watches, waiting.

            Eventually, LABOR starts to slowly stagger to its feet.

CABAL

We have a successful candidate. Kindly take up that bag and follow me. On second thought (examines the URCHINS) I don’t suppose any of you was killed in that altercation?

            Everyone starts slowly stirring, except EDUCATION, who remains perfectly still.

CABAL

Excellent. It appears I now need two of you. See how competition expands the market?

            Hearing this, ARTS shuffles to a stand and as quickly as possible in its exhausted state.

CABAL

Very good. (indicates LABOR) You, take up that bag. (indicates ARTS) You drag your deceased friend along. Chop chop! And since I’m feeling generous… (indicates SCIENCE, who has almost managed to stand) You! You can carry my bag. One penny each! Come along.

            Exhausted, worn out, near death; LABOR, ARTS, and SCIENCE each grab their charge and start pulling. They are all moving very slowly.

CABAL

Pick up the pace now. You call this one penny’s worth of work? Perhaps I should pay you a schilling or a grote, hm? This is hardly penny-labor I’m seeing. Come now, we have to be home in one hour. For every minute you’re late, I shall charge you one schilling. So let’s get a move on, now.

            CABAL exists. Slowly, achingly, the URCHINS drag the corpses. LEISURE watches, still not standing, still in terrible shape. Everything is slow. After a moment, SCIENCE drops from exhaustion. LEISURE creeps in and is about to steal the corpse and start dragging, when SCIENCE manages to spring up and shove LEISURE away. LEISURE collapses to sit again and watches.

            They drag the corpses.

            The lights dim out.

            We hear the rain and anemic thunder.

Short Plays, Theater Stuff

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