Tim Chapman's Blog: Thrilling Tales

Recently the GreenMan theatre troupe had a call for 10-minute play submissions. The call opened and closed on December 6th. I submitted on December 7th. Soooo, you won’t see it performed, but you can read it here.

SCENE 1
An outdoor cafe in Chicago’s Lincoln Park neighborhood. Two men, Nick and Gabe, are talking over coffee and sandwiches. They are in their thirties or forties and dressed in work-casual attire. Gabe has a Cubs jacket draped over the back of his chair.

NICK
They’re all garbage. Clear ‘em out. Good riddance. I’m sick of supporting their lazy—

GABE
Garbage? They’re human beings, Nick. You can’t just—

NICK
Garbage people. Look, if you want your tax dollars paying for a bunch of parasites, fine. I’ve got two girls who are, god help us, probably going to college. You know what it costs to send a kid to college?

JOE—a younger man in worn clothing—enters and stops to look around. He’s holding an empty cup.

NICK
Oh, here we go.

GABE
What?

Gabe looks around and spots Joe

NICK
It’s one of your “human beings.” Five bucks says he’s a beggar.

GABE
I’m not betting on— Shhh. He’ll hear you.

JOE approaches the two men.

NICK
(to JOE)
Don’t even.

JOE
I’m sorry to bother you gentlemen, but I wonder if you might spare a dollar or two.

NICK
For what, booze or dope?

GABE starts to reach into his pocket, but NICK stops him.

NICK
What the hell are you doing? Don’t give this bum anything. It only encourages ‘em.

JOE
I’m just looking to get something to eat.

GABE
What’s your name, son?

JOE
Joe.

NICK
More like José. You an illegal?

GABE
Joe what?

JOE
Faustus.

GABE wraps the rest of his sandwich in a napkin and hands it to JOE.

GABE
Here you go, Joe Faustus. I only ate half.

NICK
All right. You got something to eat. Move along.

JOE moves to the other side of the stage and sits down to eat his sandwich.

GABE
That was pretty rude, Nick. You didn’t have to insult him.

NICK
And you didn’t have to feed him. Those guys are like stray cats. Now, every time he sees us, he’ll be hitting us up for a handout. The guy’s bank account is probably bigger than yours. They can smell a sucker a mile away.

GABE
Is this the kind of person you want to be?

NICK
You mean practical? The kind of person who takes cares of his own and wants everyone else to do the same?

GABE
There are plenty of people who agree with you, I guess, but what happened to e pluribus unum? Aren’t we supposed to look out for one another? I mean, dog eat dog? Is that the kind of country we want to be?

NICK
I got fifty bucks says whatever money you give that guy gets spent on booze or dope. Just look at him. Pathetic.

GABE and NICK simultaneously lean forward to look at JOE, who is sitting on the stage, eating his sandwich. JOE sees them, and they quickly sit back.

GABE
I guess. But if I give a little something to ten people, and it helps one of them—if even one out of ten really needs it—it’s worth it.

NICK
In other words, you’re not willing to bet on this guy. You know he’s a garbage person.

GABE
(getting angry)
All right, smart guy, but let’s make it interesting. How about two hundred bucks?

NICK
You’re on. How much are you going to give him?

GABE
We. How much are WE going to give him. What have you got on you?

NICK and GABE take out their wallets and count out their money onto the table.

NICK
I’ve got a hundred and thirty-five, but I’ve gotta save some for the vending machine this afternoon. I can’t get past three o’clock without coffee and a candy bar.

GABE
I’ve got seventy-five. Give me seventy-five and we’ll hand him a hundred fifty. That’s enough for him to get a hotel room for the night or buy some groceries or—

NICK
Or go on a first-class bender. Booze, dope, whatever. Perfecto.

GABE counts the bills and puts them in a stack on the table.

GABE
One problem. How are we going to find out what he does with the money?

NICK
Oh yeah. I hadn’t figured— I guess we have to follow him.

GABE
For the rest of the day? I’ve got to go back to the office. I’ve got a conference call at—
(he looks at his watch)
Shit. In twenty minutes. I’ve gotta get going.

NICK
I’ll follow him.

GABE
You know, if he sees you following him, he’ll probably get spooked. I mean, he won’t do what he’d normally do, or he’ll run away or something.

NICK
He won’t see me.

GABE
Dude. You buy and sell bonds. You’re not James Bond.

NICK takes his wallet out again, removes a small flat disk, and holds it out to GABE.

NICK
This is a GPS locator. I put one in each of my daughter’s book bags. I can track the signal with an app on my phone.

GABE
So, you are James Bond. What’s this third locator for? Your wife?

NICK
None of your business. Give me your jacket.

GABE
My jacket? What for?

NICK
I doubt the guy will let me put a tracker in his pocket. I’ll put it in your jacket, and we’ll give him the jacket with the cash.

GABE
That’s my Cubs jacket man. It’s my lucky jacket.

NICK
Hasn’t been lucky for the Cubs. Or haven’t you noticed? Buncha losers. C’mon, are we doing this or not? Give me the jacket. I’ll buy you a new one.

Grumbling, GABE gives NICK the jacket. NICK tears a small hole in the lining and drops the locator disc inside. Then he hands GABE the jacket and the stack of bills.

NICK
Here. You give it to him.

GABE
All right. Then I’ve gotta go back to the office.

GABE walks over to JOE, and gives him the money and jacket. They shake hands and GABE hurries off stage. JOE looks over at NICK who gives him the finger. JOE gets up, puts on the Cubs jacket, and walks off stage. NICK takes out his phone, taps the screen a few times, and follows him.

BLACKOUT.

LIGHTS UP ON:

SCENE 2
A street vendor, GLORIA, a middle-aged woman, stands next to her tamale cart. JOE, carrying a bottle wrapped in a paper bag, enters.

JOE
Gloria, hola! How’s it going? Got one of those delicious tamals for me?

GLORIA
Only one today, please Joe. I can’t keep giving free tamales. I don’t sell enough. The people are afraid to come out anymore. I going to have a hard time paying my rent this month.

JOE
(takes a drink from the bottle)
Today, I can pay. Any word from your son?

GLORIA
No, but I heard from the lawyer. They sent him to Arizona. Some place called Eloy. They want to send to Guatemala. He’s never been to Guatemala. We have no family there, and his Spanish is no good. He speaks English since he was a baby. What will he do there?

JOE
I’m sorry Gloria.

NICK enters and stands a little way off, watching and listening. He has his phone in his hand. He snaps a picture of JOE as he takes another drink from the bottle. Then NICK calls GABE.

NICK
Gabe? Yeah. Did you get the photo? He bought a bottle of Glenfiddich, single malt. Kid’s got taste; I’ll give him that. (pause) No. Hang on to your money. That was only about fifty bucks. Let’s see what he does with the other hundo.

GLORIA
(points at the bottle in JOE’s hand)
You shouldn’t do this to yourself. I know you are hurt, but this way is no good.

JOE
At least YOUR son is still alive.

GLORIA turns away and lowers her head. JOE steps around the cart and, hesitantly, puts his hand on her shoulder. But he doesn’t release the bottle.

JOE
I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.

GLORIA
(turns to face him)
Please, Joe, let go of your suffering. It will devour you.

GLORIA hugs JOE, but he steps back, out of her embrace.

JOE
With all the crap going on in this crappy world and all the pain you’ve had to endure, you still have room in your heart for me. You’re a good friend, Gloria. Better than I deserve.

JOE takes another drink. Then, remembering the money in his pocket, he brightens up.

JOE
You know what? I’m hungry, and I’ve got money to pay. Gimme TWO tamals, Gloria. Whataya say?

GLORIA gets two tamales from her cart and hands them to JOE. He drops them into the bag with his bottle of scotch, fishes a crumpled wad of bills from his pocket and presses the money into her hand. He raises her hand to his lips, kisses it, and exits.

GLORIA
(looks at the bills in her hand and calls after him)
No, Joe! A hundred dollars. No. This is too much. Joe!

NICK
(speaking into his phone)
Gabe? You still there? (pause) Yeah, he spent the rest. You win. I’ll pay off tomorrow at lunch. Yeah, two hundred bucks. (pause) Where the hell am I going to get a Cubs jacket by tomorrow?

BLACKOUT.

Submissions for LitBop #5 are closed. Editing and layout/design has started.
Hoping for a late January or early February release.

My two middle grade novels, “The Song of the Bees” and “The Outcasts” are finished.
The publication date for both is probably early April. More info to come.

Two other writing projects, a novel and a TV pilot, are on the back burner.
I hope to dive back into them after LitBop is finished.

No visit from my furry friend, Rudolph, this year. He says he’s fed up with humans. Me too.
I hope he’ll drop in for a visit next year.

Here’s another homemade short featuring lovely poodle Mia!

A while back, Ellen and I decided to make a short video celebrating that spooktacular holiday, Halloween. It soon became an annual tradition and in total we made eleven videos. This is the first in the series from fourteen years ago featuring our former sweet dog, Mia. It’s a Lovecraftian tale titled “Terror of Cthoodle.”

Thanks to Valerie Biel for inviting me to guest blog about my VERY short stint as
an operative for a private detective agency! Read about it here—
https://readingwritingandroaming.substack.com/p/strange-but-true-tales-from-author-6d3

Here’s the story that was inspired by my short stint working as an operative for a detective agency.