THEY DWELL IN TUNNELS/Layne H. Dearden The scene is a subway station on the BMT line in Brooklyn. It is late at night on a week day and, as a consequence, the trains are long in coming. The front edge of the stage represents the front edge of the station platform. From here, it drops off directly down to the rails. The stage is lighted only in the actual playing area; the tops of the walls and steel supports are obscured by the darkness. The stage represents a typical subway station. The advertising posters are smudged with dirt and have been defaced with pencils and crayons. The benches are made of old timbers and are darkened and marred from years of use and exposure to soot and grime. There is a vending machine for beverages; several for penny gum are attached to the supports that stand along the edge of the platform like blackened sentinels guarding an empty treasure hall. A couple of yellow 55-gallon drums stand against the wall for the disposal of rubbish. The litter on the floor shows their ineffectiveness. As the curtain of this one-act play opens, the station is bare except for an old man reading a paper as he sits on a bench. In a short interval of time, he is joined by other people who come down the steps and enter the station. They include Ralph and Mary Redford, a young couple; Walt and Louise Johnson, an older couple; Mrs. Cromptile, a well-dressed matron; and Joe, a young man in his twenties. A young lady about twenty comes in last of all. She is acting rather strangely. Most of the others notice this and watch her. She sits for a few moments, acting very restlessly, and then gets up to look down the track to see if a train is on its way. She does this several times. Her movements show her restlessness, almost as if she is afraid to leave the bench but very anxious for the train to come. On one of these trips to the edge of the platform, she stops, as if dazed, and leans against one of the supports. Mary: (Mary, Ralph, and the old man are sitting on the bench farthest from the girl.) She must be drunk, Ralph. Just look at her. Ralph: Oh, I don't know. Maybe she just doesn't feel well. Maybe she is just sleepy or something. Maybe she is from out of town and is lost. Maybe she's... Mary: (Interrupting.) Maybe she's a dope addict. You never know what you'll see in this city. Ralph: You're jumping to conclusions, Mary. You don't know a thing at all about the woman. Maybe she is sick and needs some help. Why don't you see if you can help her out? Mary: You're kidding. I'm not going up to some stranger who's probably looped or needs a fix and see what I can do. What would I say? Pardon, miss, but you are acting strangely. If there is any little thing I can do for you, be a dear and just let me know. Ralph: You're not being very funny. (With this he lets the matter drop. The old man looks up from his paper for a moment, surveys Mary and Ralph, and then goes back to his reading. The girl turns from the pillar and starts for the closest bench. She tries to take a step and becomes unnaturally rigid. Her head twists in an 14 awkward position and her right arm assumes a grotesque alignment. She utters a muffled cry and drops to the platform where she lies. Her body slowly gyrates in convulsions.) Louise: Walt! Walt! (He looks up from his paper and stares at the girl.) Mary: Do something! Somebody do something! (Ralph and Joe run to the aid of the stricken girl. All the others, with the exception of Mary who follows Ralph for a few feet, remain in their places. They watch the proceedings but make no effort to participate.) Ralph: (Looking from the girl to Joe.) What should we do for her? What's wrong with her? Joe: I'm not really sure. Maybe she's an epileptic. Ralph: You mean she is having some kind of a fit? Joe: That's one way of putting it. Help me move her back from the edge here. She could move herself right off the platform. (Bends down to lift the girl. She is lying still now as if in a dazed condition.) Mary: Ralph, don't touch her. Maybe she's got something catching. Let's just call the police or something. Joe: We just can't let her lie there. Ralph: That's right. Let's move her. (Bends down to help Joe.) Mary: Ralph! (Ralph stands up again, looks directly at his wife, then bends down and helps lift the stricken girl. They carry her to the closest bench. It is occupied by the middle-aged couple and Mrs. Cromptile. None of them makes an effort to move.) Joe: I hate to bother you people and all that, but would you move so we can set this girl down? Mrs. C: I'm not moving for any drunk. Put her on the other bench or put her back on the cement. She's been there once she's already dirty from it and it's not going to hurt her. Ralph: You're not real, lady. This girl has got something wrong with her and the least you can do is move so we can put her on the bench there. Mrs. C: She has nothing wrong with her that twenty-four hours and lots of hot coffee won't cure. She has made her own bed now let her sleep in it. (She smiles at her cleverness and points to the floor.) Louise: Walt, let's move. Come on, let's move. (She gets to her feet.) Walt: You have always been too kind- hearted for your own good, my dear. One of these days you'll get involved in something and be in trouble. (He reluctantly gets to his feet.) There, put her down. (He and his wife stand awkwardly off to one side.) Joe: Easy does it. (He and Ralph gently lower the girl to the bench. Mrs. Cromptile slides as far from the girl as she can get. She shuffles through her handbag as if to get something for the girl, but she produces a small book and reading glasses. She begins to read as if nothing were happening.) Mary: Shouldn't we call a doctor or a policeman? Ralph: She would probably be better by the time anyone was able to get down here. Joe: Or she could be dead. We should call the police and have them come over. They will know what to do; at least, that's what they get paid for. (Looks over at the Johnsons.) Would one of you mind going upstairs to a telephone and calling the police? Walt J.: (Looking somewhat embarrassed.) I'm sorry, but we're waiting for the train. We're in a bit of a hurry to get back into Manhattan. Louise J.: But, Walt, we could at least.... (continued on next page) 15