Due

a 10 min play by Tim West

SYNOPSIS:

Needing a renewal, older patron MARGARET (60s) seeks out young staff assistant ANNA (20s) in the timeless setting of a public library. The book is yet to be written, though –and the writing process will prove difficult.

DUE – Characters

MARGARET –60s, a library patron, who is looking for a renewal. She’s eccentric, and down with it. Other people’s judgement no longer an issue for her. She doesn’t mean to be harsh. In fact, she’s here to help.

ANNA –20s, library assistant, a bright light but still under the bushel, is focused on her job. She is good with books, finds people less manageable. She doesn’t know what she’s missing, until she does.

At LIGHTS UP,  ANNA (20s) loads books to/from cart/shelf, sorting by number, humming oddly to herself. “Asst,” her name-tag tells us. MARGARET (60s) stands behind her, with her book. ANNA, aware, does not look up.

MARGARET:
*ahem* Pardon me, Miss: You do work here, yes?

ANNA: (without looking up)
I do.

MARGARET:
I thought as much! –although I must confess /
That I’ve approached two other bookish women.
—Contact lenses were so much more uncommon, then!

ANNA: (without looking up)
Sorry?

MARGARET: (making it up)
…er, Ancient Egypt: Tuntankahmen?

ANNA: (pointing off)

Melville Dewey Decimal Number 9-3-2–oh-1-4-oh.

MARGARET:

—Well, look at you! It’s so confusing. All the staff I thought I knew from way-back-when look far-less-agéd now.

ANNA: (correcting her)
–“More agéd now,” I think you mean. 

MARGARET:                                                         
–Ow, wow. Neither of us getting any younger, dear. You’re the librarian, did you say?

ANNA stands and addresses MARGARET. 

ANNA:
I’m //one among a half-a-dozen// here…

MARGARET:
  …//one among a half-a-dozen// bookish girls who staff the place.
I really ought not laugh at that. —Laugh with, not at, at least. I was a bookish girl myself.

ANNA: 
How may I help you, Madame?

MARGARET:

Did I say I needed help? Did I need something? What did I need?

ANNA:

*sigh* You asked me if I worked here, Madame. Look…

MARGARET: 
They are not the same, though, are they?

ANNA: 
I see you have your book. //The Computer Self-Check-Out…//

MARGARET: (imitating ANNA)  

—//”the Computer Self-Checkout’ is right behind you, there.”// But I already tried Self-Check-Out -–or was that the ‘Card Catalog’? I’m so confused. Oh, dear!

ANNA:
Well, if you turn around, you’ll see Self-Check-Out right there next to it. To the catalog. There. Right behind you. To your right. Just look.

MARGARET:
My right as I’m facing you, or to the right, after I turned? ‘Stage Right’ or ‘House Right’?

ANNA:

If you’d like a librarian to check it out for you…

MARGARET:

Aren’t you the librarian? “Assistant,” yes. Well… couldn’t you assist me? …‘Anna.’

ANNA:
My name’s not on my nametag. How did you know?

MARGARET passes the book under a laser.
There’s the ‘bonk’ of an electronic error tone.

MARGARET: (as ANNA) 
-–-“Oh my! This book’s already checked-out.”

ANNA:
Perhaps someone returned it surreptitiously. It needs to be reshelved.

MARGARET:
It’s checked out to me. I’m ‘Margaret.’ 

ANNA takes the book from MARGARET, then immediately hands it back to her.

ANNA:

Well, there you go, then, ‘Margaret’: It’s all checked out to you, now.

MARGARET:

I know that, ‘Anna.’ I want you to renew.

ANNA:
Oh! A Renewal. We don’t usually get those. Not til //long past overdue.//

MARGARET:
                                                                                //Long past overdue//

ANNA:
Here, we’ll just…

ANNA holds three keys down at once. 

(a buzz) That’s odd. It won’t… (another buzz) Why won’t it…? (last buzz) Hold on.

(she reads.)

…You’ve already renewed this… How many times? The limit is two…
—Wait: How did you check this?

MARGARET:
I asked a nice librarian. 

ANNA:
According to the database…

ANNA clicks, types, clicks. Peers.

This book’s already checked-out, then renewed. Not once or twice but regularly. Hundreds of times. This must be some kind of I.T. glitch. How many times have you–?

MARGARET:
Whatever it says. Two’s all you’re supposed to, right? And I can’t pay my fine.

ANNA reads her screen again.

ANNA:
At fifteen cents a day… $3,832.50. Card is in the name of… Wait: You wrote this book!

MARGARET:
I did.

ANNA:
You’re ‘Margaret Bayer Rhys.’

MARGARET:
It’s true: my pseudonym.

ANNA:
Well, don’t you own a copy, Mrs. Rice?

MARGARET:
It’s ‘Reese.’ I never needed to. 

ANNA:
Well, certainly you could–

MARGARET:
Long out-of-print and rare, I’m told. And antiquarians cannot locate one.

ANNA:
But you could. //Here.//

MARGARET:
//Here.// My hometown library. The librarian then, she bought a copy. For not a lot 
of money. But such pride in me. The auditorium’s named for her, you know.

ANNA:
What auditorium?

MARGARET:
Why, Tierney Hall. For a long time, Helen kept a copy in the front display.
‘Local author makes good.’ That was nice.

ANNA:
I don’t remember that display. We’ll place it in the stacks to be //re-shelved.//

MARGARET:
//Reshelved.// They blocked my card. I can’t check out.  I never could afford that fine.

ANNA:
If Helen Tierney finds out, I could lose my job.

MARGARET:
Well, we don’t want that. Whatever would you do?

MARGARET commandeers the keyboard, presses a single key. A rapid ‘blip-blip-blip -BEEEEP.’

ANNA reads her scrolling screen.

ANNA:
–Wait! These dates, these Renewals… –They’re in the future, is that right?

MARGARET:
It isn’t right. And yet: They are.

ANNA:
And you…

MARGARET:
I travel time. 5-3-oh–1-1-something-something –I think you’ll find. I wrote the book.

ANNA:
‘Margaret Bayer Rhys..’

MARGARET:
It’s ‘Reese.’ But yes: My pseudonym. 

ANNA:
It shows you’ve written scores of titles. This one is rare, it says.

MARGARET:
It only sold in limited editions.

ANNA:
That’s too bad. But Helen Tierney bought one. Buys one. So you said.

MARGARET:
She does/did. Tierney Hall is/will be named for her.

ANNA:
Your favorite of your own works, is it?

MARGARET:
My life’s work. Yes: my masterpiece.

ANNA:
Helen is here, if you’d like to see her.

MARGARET:
I don’t think that’s a good idea. Do you?

ANNA:
Perhaps not. 

MARGARET:
It fries all the computers. You get blamed. I’m sorry.

ANNA:
Yeah. I see that. Do I get to read the book?

MARGARET:
Oh, dear: You know the answer to that. 

ANNA:
Already. Yes. Of course. Because.. eventually…

ANNA:
//I write it.//

MARGARET:
//You write it,// yes.

Behind them, the computer snaps, crackles
and pops. Perhaps there is a puff of smoke.

ANNA:
What was the title?

MARGARET:
Oh, It’s gone now. I’ve completely lost it. You’ll just have to make one up.
Titles are hard, I know. But you get it right. You’ll have to trust me on that, Anna.

ANNA:
Why do I pick ‘Margaret Bayer Rhys’?

MARGARET:
You know.

ANNA:

‘Margaret’ for our mother. Is ‘Bayer’ …?’

MARGARET:
Yes. It is.

ANNA:
And Rhys?

MARGARET:
He’s father to your children.

ANNA:
We have kids? What, //You and me?//

MARGARET:
//You and me,// kid! Like we write books. We’re fairly prolific.

ANNA:
Is he nice?

MARGARET:
Who, David Rhys? He’s sweet. He predeceases you. Be nice to him. It isn’t easy.

ANNA:
You can’t tell me that! His name, his… You can’t just tell me! —no, no, no!

MARGARET:
I know. I’m not here to change that, Anna. I’m here to make it happen. To get you fired. So you write, and don’t pine in a library with your brilliant mind, okay? You come back to visit. It’s where you meet David. You bring your daughters.

ANNA:
I meet him here? I bring my daughters?

MARGARET:
Three of them. Completely different. Each unique.

ANNA:
I won’t remember any of it –will I?

MARGARET:
You live it, darling. Don’t be greedy. Be good to David. Don’t play favorites with the girls. Oh! …and Helen Tierney has to fire you, but stays your friend for life. You count on her. When things look dark. You make them name the auditorium for her.

ANNA:
Anything else?

MARGARET: (leaning in)
Oh yes.

MARGARET touches a device lightly to 
ANNA’s forehead. ANNA’s eyelids flutter.
There’s a ‘blip-blip-blip…’

(whispering:)

Don’t forget to return your books to the library.

LIGHTS FLUTTER.  ‘BEEEEEP.’ 

BLACKOUT.  END OF PLAY.