Janna Tierney
Man 2 walks to his side of the bench. He squints
slightly at the sound of each step. He grasps the arm
rest of the bench and gives a halfhearted pull. Neither
the bench nor Man 1 moves. Man 2 looks up at the offcentered light again and exhales, annoyed.
MAN 2 (cont’d)
Sir, uh, would you mind standing?
Mister?
Man 1 doesn’t flinch.
Man 2 raises his voice, visibly angry.
MAN 2 (cont’d)
Look, mister, would you please move?
Man 1 does not appear even to be breathing. Frightened,
Man 2 leans over the bench and bellows in Man 1’s face.
MAN 2 (cont’d)
Mister, are you all right? Would you
please stand up so I can move this?
HEY!
Man 1 turns his head toward Man 2, who jerks back,
startled by the sudden movement. Man 1 grasps the bench
and slowly lifts himself to standing. His muscular
knuckles reflect intense power. His feet do not move at
all.
Man 2 grasps the bench again and pulls on it hard, as
though expecting it to be very heavy. It moves easily
and lands perfectly centered beneath the fluorescent
rectangle, though it has produced a terrible and loud
metal scraping sound. At the same moment, the P.A.
voice is heard.
VOICE (O.S.)
Now admitting number 3792. Now
admitting number 3792. This is the
final announcement.
Tremendously startled, Man 2 rips his hands from the
bench and hurriedly finds his seat again, panting
pitifully and rocking slightly with his hands tucked
between his knees.
Unstirred by the sudden announcement, Man 1 takes a
step over and sits back down on the bench almost as he
sat before, staring at the backs of his drooping hands
in his lap.
32