A One-Act Play
Loosely based on "Story of an Hour" by Kate Chopin
Characters
Louise, a frail, attractive woman of 46, dressed somberly except for a heavy gold cuff on each wrist that she is constantly fretting with as a nervous habit.
Josephine, Louise's elegant and fashionable older sister, also dressed in somber colors.
Scene
Very early 1960's. A bedroom done is tasteful, traditional masculine décor: dark colors, heavy fabrics, weighty-looking furniture, a wingback chair next to the room's open window; a very large framed photo of a young man in 1930's era clothing hangs, ceiling to floor, on the wall opposite the door. Outdoor sounds (birdsong, an occasional passing car, children playing, etc.) can be heard. Louise enters, appearing exhausted, and crosses in a stilted manner to the chair. She sinks into it, staring unseeingly into space.
Louise: It's done. God, I can't believe he's gone. (Looks about the room a faintly frantic way) What now? What do I do now? (Leans her head wearily against the back of the chair then looks toward the photo) We were supposed to be together forever, Brent. You promised both me and Mama you'd always be here, that I would always be taken care of. (Her expression begins to turn angry) But now look where I am. What's to become of me now, Brent? No job. No skills. And no money if I'm not badly mistaken. (Shakes her head tiredly) I should have listened to Mama all those years ago. I should have stayed in school and at least learned to type. Maybe I wouldn't be so frightened now. (Pauses, eyes closed. Suddenly her eyes fly open and she sits up, horrified.) The policy! Oh God! (Looks toward the photo. Her voice is a strained whisper.) That's where the money came from when the business failed, isn't it? You cashed in the insurance policy! (Jumps up, agitated, and begins to pace, patting her chest reassuringly.) Now, Louise, calm down. You know this isn't good for your heart.
(Hesitant knock sounds on door)
Josephine: Louise? Dear, are you okay?
Louise: I'm fine, Josephine. Really.
(A moment or two passes, then the door opens enough for Josephine to peek in, looking concerned.)
Josephine: May I come in?
Louise: (Hesitates) Sure.
(Josephine enters, closing the door behind her, but doesn't approach her sister.)
Josephine: I was worried about you. You were crying so hard downstairs, and your color wasn't good when you came up. (Crosses to stand before Louise.) I know you wanted to be left alone, but I was afraid, was afraid...
Louise: (Nods) My heart, I know, but I'm fine. (Returns to the chair while Josephine seats herself on the edge of the bed.) I seem to have survived the worst of it. The news, the arrangements, now the funeral. I was just giving some thought to the future and asking myself, “Now what? What do I do now?” when you knocked. Do you realize I know nothing about taking care of myself? I've never worked or had to manage money. (Smiles mockingly) If the septic system backed up right now I doubt I could deal with the enormity of it. Would I call a plumber or the fire department? (Pauses, voice goes softer) It has also occurred to me where Brent may have gotten the extra money he needed for the business.
Josephine: (Worriedly) Where?
Louise: His life insurance policy.
Josephine: (Horrified) Surely not!
Louise: I hope I'm wrong, Josephine. It's hard enough for young girls to get started without cash. I shudder to think what it would be like for someone my age. Thank heaven Mama left the house in mine and your names. I've no doubt Brent would have put a lien on it otherwise. At least I know I”ll have a roof over my head. For a while anyway. (She turns to watch out the window. Moments pass.) There's a little nest on that branch over there, a robin's, with three pretty little blue eggs in it. That Mama Robin has been sitting there keeping them warm for over a week now. She watches me and I watch her, wondering what it would be like to have kids. (Sighs) But I suppose it was a good thing I wasn't allowed to. There might have been one or two at home needing looking after and giving me more to worry over.
Josephine: You couldn't have survived a pregnancy, Louise.
Louise: (Nodding sadly) I know, but Brent wanted a son so badly he could all but taste it. It seemed so important to prove how good a wife I was that I almost took the risk when we were first married, but Mama talked me out of it. (Smiles ruefully) She demanded to know straight out just who I thought would be taking care of the baby with me dead because Brent wouldn't and she wasn't able to. I was forced to admit even then that Brent didn't have it in him to be a good father, let alone a good widowed one.
Josephine: (Wryly) Isn't it funny how much more we appreciate Mama now than we did then?
(They laugh)
Louise: (Glances curiously at her sister.) Don't you think it strange I haven't cried more than I have?
Josephine: I've seen you cry plenty these past few days. Why? Is there an unwritten law somewhere that says you haven't been?
Louise: Probably. Aren't widows supposed to be inconsolate, weeping bitter copious tears while leaning heavily on the arms of their loved ones?
Josephine: (Shrugs) Perhaps you're still in shock.
Louise: (Ponderingly) Maybe, but it doesn't feel like it. If you remember the doctor said I was in shock after Mama died and this doesn't feel the same.
Josephine: How do you feel then?
Louise: (Looks back a her sister with a quizzical expression) Strange. It's like there's a light breaking through a shade. (Laughs self-consciously) Not at all the way I'm supposed to be feeling. Maybe my grief has made me mad. (Returns to looking out the window) I was thinking before you came in that maybe I'll go back to school.
Josephine: (Surprised) School? What kind of school?
Louise: I don't know. When I was in high school I thought a lot about becoming an interior decorator.
Josephine: (Smiles warmly) I remember, and I'm convinced you would have made a good one, too. You always did have a flair with colors and fabrics. (She looks around the bedroom and runs her hand over the bedspread.) It's really too bad Brent insisted upon decorating his way. I think this house looks so much better in lighter colors and softer fabrics. (Looks dourly at the photo) And without that picture.
Louise: (With a half smile and a bitter tone) “A man's home is his castle” was his motto. I was lucky he let me have my rose bushes out back. (Turns back to the window with a soft grunt) I can't believe I'm talking this way. My husband's dead and all I can do is complain.
Josephine: (Pauses, then leans earnestly forward) Louise, you haven't been happy for a long time, and whether you realize it or not, you've been talking this way for years. (Looks down at the floor) And I have to admit, I never particularly liked the man.
Louise: (Scandalized) Josephine!
Josephine: (Sits straight up and nods once) Well, it's true . He may have been handsome as sin and four kinds of charming, but I never felt there was much more to him than that. He, I don't know, he seemed cold somehow.
Louise: (Stares at her sister a little longer then turns back to the window) He could be kind sometimes and I know he loved me, in his fashion. He was just a hard sort of man. Used to getting his way.
Josephine: Spoiled, you mean.
Louise: (Smiles faintly but doesn't immediately answer as she turns back to the window) It's funny how one minute I'm thinking I'm forty-six years “old” and the next I'm thinking I'm “just” forty-six. If my heart doesn't give out I could live another forty-six or even fifty. What will I do with all those years?
Josephine: You could remarry.
Louise: (Frowning fiercely at her sister) Bite your tongue! (They laugh softly before Louise turns back to the window) Do you realize I've never been alone? I lived with Mama until I married Brent. I was sixteen then. (Leans forward and rests her folded arms on the window sill) Sixteen. So full of dreams. Even with a bad ticker I thought I could do anything. Be anyone. I thought that if I could just survive the joy of my wedding day I could live forever. (Pauses) Funny he should be the one to die first, isn't it? And in a train wreck of all things. He was so terrified of flying he always took the train when he traveled. (Shakes her head as if baffled) So here I am, alone at last, wondering what I am going to do with myself from now on.
Josephine: You could come stay with me and Chuck for a while.
Louise: I appreciate that, but no. I think I'll stay here, in my own home. My own home. (Pauses) Suddenly I'm thinking the oddest thing.
Josephine: What's that?
Louise: (Looking bemused) I'm thinking I'm not alone. I'm free.
Josephine: (Confused) Free?
Louise: Free, Josephine. Faces her sister with an uncertain expression that slowly brightens as truth sets in) For the first time in my life, I'm free. Free of the care of others, of taking care of others. Even free of my heart condition in a way, since everyone else always worried more about it than I did.
Josephine: (Worriedly) Louise, you mustn't...
Louise: (Her bright smile abruptly dims.) I sound terrible, don't I? (Stands and begins to pace around the room) I sound almost as if I'm happy Brent died. But I'm not! I miss him. Maybe not as I should, but he's been a part of my life for thirty years and I just can't accept that he's not going to come walking in that door any moment eager to tell me about some new venture he's uncovered. (Sighs) Still, I can't hide from the fact that my life has changed so drastically or keep myself from noticing I now have options I've never had before. (Gestures somewhat helplessly) Such as school. For the first time I have a chance to grow up and take control of my life. To take my own chances and make my own choices. Until I married I let Mama run my life, then Brent came along and I let him take over. I never gave much thought to doing otherwise. It was all I knew and, well, it was so much easier just to let them have their way anyway. (Turns to face her sister, her expression fearful) I'm afraid, Josephine, so very afraid that I'll fail. That I'll lose this house through my mismanagement, or make a fool of myself by going to work. I think the “what if's” alone wold paralyze me if I let them. (She straightens, her expression determined) But what if I don't fail? What if, somehow, I actually succeed? What if I become not only an interior decorator, but a successful interior decorator? (Pauses, looking as if she's searching inside herself, then meets Josephine's gaze) I have to know what I can do.
Josephine: (Expression both worried and proud) Okay. So how do you propose to begin the rest of your life?
Louise: (Chuckles wryly) I suppose with an accounting of my financial situation. All I know for certain right now is that Brent left me little. Very little, if I'm right about the insurance policy. Lord only knows how much in debt he left me. (Grimaces) He assured me just last week that ours was but a “small reversal,” and that he'd have us out of it in a “jiffy.” (Sighs) I guess I'll find out shortly. But I admit, I suddenly wish I could just open a door and walk into my new life, without all the worries he left me. I'm not feeling at all competent a the moment. (Smiles sadly) More likely a very small child with a very adult problem.
Josephine: (Reaching for Louise's hand) You know Chuck and I will help you however you need us to. Remember that.
Louise: Thanks. (Looks at the photo) But first I think I'm going to remove Brent's picture from the wall and make room for something less...less...
Josephine: Obscene?
Louise: (Chidingly) I was going to say overpowering. Will you help me?
Josephine: (Standing quickly) Gladly!
(The two women take their places on either side of the photo)
Josephine: Where, by the way, did this come from?
Louise: One of Brent's friends was a struggling photographer when we were first married. One day he asked Brent to model for him, for a wage no less, but the original turned out so well Brent accepted this print in payment instead.
Josephine: Of course he did. And, tell me, did it ever occur to him to have your picture done as well?
Louise: You know, he never mentioned it.
Josephine: Now why doesn't that surprise me? (Places her hands on the side of the frame) Okay, grab hold and let's get this over with. It looks plenty heavy, so be careful.
(They lift the framed photograph from the wall, revealing a door behind it.)
Louise: Look, Josephine. I don't remember this door up here. Do you?
Josephine: (Running her hand along the open seam between the door and its frame) No, I don't but this was always Dad and Mama's room and strictly off limits. I do remember they kept an old chiffrobe along this wall so I wouldn't have seen it anyway.
Louise: Or maybe Brent had it put in for some reason when he had the room remodeled and decorated. (Studies the door) There's no knob. How do we open it? There's hinges and it doesn't look as if its been sealed. I bet it's a long forgotten secret stairway to a secret vault chocked full of old money.
Josephine: Right. With our luck it's worthless confederate money left over from the Civil War. (Snaps her fingers) Wait, I know. There's a crow bar in my car. I'll be right back. (Exits)
(Louise continues to investigate the door, feeling along the edge and looking closely into the seam. Suddenly she pauses and straightens, looking as if she's pondering a puzzle, before placing her hands, one on the other, against the door. She gives it a couple of shoves then steps back, hands falling away as the door opens into the room in a manner barring the audience's view of the inside. Her hair lifting a bit as if on a light breeze, Louise's expression runs from curious to confused to marveling, and finally to delight at what she sees within. Without hesitation she walks inside. Moments later Josephine returns with crow bar in hand.)
Josephine: Okay, here's the... Louise? Where'd you go? (Crosses to the open door, pushing it further open until the audience can see inside. It's only a closet, empty except for Louise's gold cuffs lying brightly on the floor.) Louise?
(Josephine kneels and picks up the cuffs. Staring at them in confusion, she stands as the lights fade slowly to black.)
I thought this was an all too common story about the wife who lets her husband attend to all the financial details and worries and serves him through the years only to find that he dies and she has no means to find work or money to support herself. Much like the many widows in our college town who rented out rooms to us students in their houses as their only means of an income before Social Security. Very well written and realistic.
But I was wrong. Your trick ending tells me there was much more to this story. Was there an Act 2?
