MAX: . . . Today, after so many years, I will tell her how beautiful her face is, how exuberant her body is and how precious her fine voice is. If there is something that this confinement has given me, it is courage. Thousands of people die out there, I don’t know if tomorrow I’ll be alive. Might as well risk it all. (Practicing.) “Hello Lucia! Are you going to stretch your legs as usual?” “Yes, Max, I am sick of being alone in my apartment.” “Really? I am also lonely here without speaking to anyone.” “Well, Max, if you and I are alone . . . We should keep each other company.” “Oh Lucia! You’re so . . . ”
(LUCIA enters.)
LUCIA: Bloody elevator! It’s always messed up! Max, I had to go down all eight floors.
MAX: Lucia!
LUCIA: Were you sleeping as usual? Get to work and fix that.
MAX: But . . . the truth . . . it’s not my job.
LUCIA: What do you mean it’s not your job?
MAX: For that—there is a mechanic who repairs the elevators.
LUCIA: Can’t you see that we are in the midst of a pandemic? Maintenance services are not working, figure something out. No mechanic will come to fix that, right? I was so close to moving! So close! Then suddenly they declared a state of emergency! But when it’s done, I’m going to get out of this building . . . (In the distance the sound of a violin and a woman’s voice are heard.) Ugh! 4c begins with the music. If that girl at least sang well! But no! She’s out of tune and I must put up with it! Drives me crazy! Everything is wrong here! Everything!
We can’t go out to the street because of the so-called plague that the government invented! Now all I have left is running in the horrible parking lot of this shitty building! Shitty building!
(LUCIA leaves.)
MAX: Today was the day.
2
A pair of musicians in the living room of a flat. ISODORO plays the violin. MELINA is standing in front of a music stand. She sings out of tune.
ISIDORO: Ooh. (MELINA continues to sing.) Ooh, ooh. (MELINA gets flustered, getting more and more out of tune.) Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh.
MELINA: What?!
(ISIDORO stops.)
ISIDORO: You haven’t practised Melina?
MELINA: It’s the only thing I can do. Stuck in here.
ISIDORO: Well, it doesn’t sound like it.
MELINA: Isidoro, don’t you think?
ISIDORO: Let’s not lose focus! Let’s not lose focus! C’mon.
(ISIDORO plays the violin. MELINA sings.)
ISIDORO: Ooh . . . (MELINA little by little sings out of tune.) Ooh, ooh . . . (MELINA more out of tune.) Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh . . .
MELINA: Now what?!
ISIDORO: You are out of tune, honey! Strauss would roll over in his grave if he heard you.
MELINA: Well he can roll as much as he likes! Can we stop, Isidoro? I’ve lost track of how long we’ve been practising this.
ISIDORO: You can never rehearse too much! Have you any idea what it means to perform this piece in the Hall of the Muses?
MELINA (imitating him): “It is the most prestigious hall in the entire city. Exceptional artists have played there, from Ricardo Voldoni to Pietro Muscari.” Yes! Yes! You’ve told me twenty thousand times!
ISIDORO: So why throw away our hard work? When we have an invitation to play in such a prestigious venue?
MELINA: Who cares?! We don’t know if the government is going to lift the state of emergency. Everything is closed. There is a plague outside, haven’t you noticed? A fucking asteroid is near! An asteroid! And you are thinking of a concert that might not even happen.
ISIDORO: First, we don’t know where the asteroid will hit and second we also cannot risk not practising and then the government lifting all restrictions tomorrow. Can you imagine?
MELINA: But we don’t know—
ISIDORO: Breathe, baby, breathe. You must feel the passion of the notes. Feel with your heart. Listen to the beautiful music of Strauss. Feel those lyrics by Eichendorff. Did I ever tell you Strauss wrote these songs for his wife Pauline?
MELINA: He probably loved her.
ISIDORO: Let’s not lose focus! Don’t lose focus! C’mon. From the top. (ISIDORO plays the violin. MELINA starts to sing. After a bit she is out of tune.) Ooh. (MELINA gets more out of tune.) Ooh, ooh. (MELINA still out of tune.) Oh, oh, oh, oh. (MELINA throws the music stand.)
MELINA: You have changed so much since we married. Your mom was against this marriage. I remember at the wedding she said we were like water and oil. She was probably right!
ISIDORO: What?! This has nothing to do with that! Let’s practice, honey! Let’s practice! We are professionals!
MELINA: Fuck your professionalism! Fuck Strauss!
ISIDORO: Melina! Don’t get Strauss involved!
MELINA: An asteroid, Isidoro! A fucking asteroid is coming! (Throws all the music sheets.)
3
A group of 5 businesspeople are locked up in an apartment.
BUSINESSPERSON 1: The woman has stopped singing.
BUSINESSPERSON 2: The businesses are not operating.
BUSINESSPERSON 3: The numbers are in red.
BUSINESSPERSON 4: When will this end?
BUSINESSPERSON 5: I never imagined this would happen.
BUSINESSPERSON 4: How long have we been here?
BUSINESSPERSON 1: The violin is still playing.
BUSINESSPERSON 3: That means layoffs.
BUSINESSPERSON 2: Who was it . . . ?
BUSINESSPERSON 3: Who was it . . . ?
BUSINESSPERSON 4: Who was it . . . ?
BUSINESSPERSON 1: It has started again.
BUSINESSPERSON 5: Anyone want coffee?
BUSINESSPERSON 2: The coffee! The coffee! That’s the reason!
BUSINESSPERSON 3 (to BUSINESSPERSON 5): Idiot!
BUSINESSPERSON 4 (to BUSINESSPERSON 5): Stupid!
BUSINESSPERSON 2 (to BUSINESSPERSON 5): Imbecile!
BUSINESSPERSON 5: I never imagined this would happen.
BUSINESSPERSON 2: The ritual was simple . . .
BUSINESSPERSON 3: . . . every Thursday we got together . . .
BUSINESSPERSON 2: . . . at the corner coffee shop . . .
BUSINESSPERSON 4: . . . at the same time . . .
BUSINESSPERSON 3: . . . for lunch and business talk.
BUSINESSPERSON 2 (to BUSINESSPERSON 5): And then you came up with your brilliant idea.
BUSINESSPERSON 3: “Let’s go to my flat for coffee.”
BUSINESSPERSON 4: And our tradition went to shit.
BUSINESSPERSON 3: They declared a state of emergency.
BUSINESSPERSON 2: And we got locked in here.
BUSINESSPERSON 4: Without knowing what happened with our businesses.
BUSINESSPERSON 1: I think I’ve heard that song before.
BUSINESSPERSON 2: How long has it been?
BUSINESSPERSON 3: A day?
BUSINESSPERSON 4: A year?
BUSINESSPERSON 2: A decade?
BUSINESSPERSON 4: There is no way out!
BUSINESSPERSON 2: None!
BUSINESSPERSON 3: He must pay.
BUSINESSPERSON 4: Tradition demands it!
BUSINESSPERSON 3: To the window!
BUSINESSPERSON 5: It was a tiny change, to mix it up, fellas!
BUSINESSPERSON 2: Tiny change?
BUSINESSPERSON 4: To mix it up?
BUSINESSPERSON 3: The numbers are in red.
BUSINESSPERSON 2: The businesses aren’t operating.
BUSINESSPERSON 4: And we are locked up here.
BUSINESSPERSON 3: To the window!
BUSINESSPERSON 2: To the window!
BUSINESSPERSON 4: To the window!
BUSINESSPERSON 2: Take off your jacket and tie!
BUSINESSPERSON 3: You are not worthy of the uniform!
(The businesspeople take BUSINESSPERSON 5 and they open the window. The wind hits his face.)
BUSINESSPERSON 1: The song is out of tune.
5
A small dark flat. JUDITH looks out the window.
JUDITH: It’s raining businessmen. The world is crazy. Though, I’ve thought of doing it too . . . Exit through the window and fall . . . maybe the wind will lift me, and I’ll fly like autumn leaves. Maybe it’ll make me forget these never-ending voices. Why do we speak with ourselves? I remember as a child I saw my grandma and laughed at her because she spoke to herself. Now, I do it. But I’m not the only one. The vents carry voices that keep me company. It’s the neighbours speaking to themselves. Even those that have company talk to each other without listening to one another. They do it so the weight of the hours seems lighter. How long has it been? I can’t recall if it has been a day, a year or a decade. (Voices can be heard in the distance.) The voices are back.
VOICE 1: . . . you are out of tune honey . . .
VOICE 2: . . . so many times, I’ve wanted to tell her how I feel but couldn’t . . .
JUDITH: There they are!
VOICE 4: . . . the businesses are not operating . . .
VOICE 5: . . . the last thing he said was that the end was near . . .
JUDITH: I hear them.
VOICE 7: . . . We haven’t spoken in so long . . .
VOICE 6: . . . Damn keys! Where did I leave them? . . .
JUDITH: The voices curse . . .
VOICE 8: . . . I was so close to leaving this place . . .
JUDITH: . . . they lament . . .
VOICE 9: . . . Is it time? . . .
JUDITH: . . . they’re silly . . .
VOICE 10: . . . a damn asteroid is coming . . .
JUDITH: . . . they’re fearful . . .
VOICE 11: . . . I don’t know if it’s been a day, a year or a decade . . .
JUDITH: . . . they keep me company.
(Silence.)
JUDITH: Suddenly, the air past the window is tempting.
(Far away thuds are heard.)
6
. . .
NICHOLAS (bangs the door): Sebastián! Sebastián! Damned boy! (Tries the keys again. The door does not open.) Someone help this old man! (Bangs the door.)
. . .
7
THE WRITER types on his computer. Outside banging noises can be heard.
THE WRITER: At what time is that old fart going to shut up? All the time banging on the door. I can’t concentrate. There is too much noise in this building. Sometimes I hear things through the vents. I don’t know if I am going mad. It’s hard to concentrate. Writing this play requires my full and complete attention . . . calm . . . and introspection. But the neighbours are too uncivilised. They would understand little of this. (The banging noise again.) There it is again. (Goes to the main door and opens it.) Shut up! I want to concentrate!
. . .
8
MARÍA, a Christian woman, facing a radio. Turns it on, but only interference is heard.
MARÍA: The last thing he said was “the end is near.” Now nothing can be heard. Father Carlos’s program was never on the radio again. (Turns off radio.) His voice was my only company in this cold place. This radio doesn’t work, doesn’t broadcast any stations. Sometimes I can hear a presenter announcing great catastrophes. What happened to Father Carlos? Did he get sick of giving mass? (MARÍA turns on TV. No signal.) Not a single channel. (Zapping with the remote control.) Nothing. (Shuts down TV, approaches the radio and turns it on.)
PRESENTER VOICE: We should protect each other! The scientific community is uncertain where asteroid S20 will fall. What is certain is that it will end with everything around—
9
MAX goes up the stairs.
MAX: I think I repaired it. I hope nobody dies in that elevator. Or no one that will be using it soon. No one goes out. No one can. Maybe Lucía sees it is working and thinks of me as someone useful. Maybe she needs me to repair something in her flat and invites me in. Maybe I’ll have a lemonade again and maybe . . . maybe . . . it’s nice to dream.
(A family sits on the stairs.)
MAN WITHOUT FLAT: It’s good to dream, Max.
MAX: It is.
WOMAN WITHOUT FLAT: I dream the lady in number 10 dies, and I can sneak into her flat and have a home.
MAX: Right.
CHILD WITHOUT FLAT: You haven’t been here in a long time.
MAX: A long time.
MAN WITHOUT FLAT: Are you watching the sunset on the terrace, old friend?
MAX: Yes, I want to see it one last time.
WOMAN WITHOUT FLAT: One last time? You are not thinking of jumping?
(Silence.)
CHILD WITHOUT FLAT: If he jumps, can I keep his room?
MAN WITHOUT FLAT: Idiot! You have to say please!
CHILD WITHOUT FLAT: Please!
MAX: You can keep it.
CHILD WITHOUT FLAT: Yesss! I knew today was going to be a good day!
