Nighttime at the Lighthouse
by Olivia Arieti
SYNOPSIS: Heather, a middle-aged writer, has decided to move with her younger partner, Keith, into an old lighthouse where she hopes to find her inspiration again. The place ends up haunting her instead, especially at night, when she hears notes from Chopin’s Nocturne and Keith stays up late, chatting with a mysterious musician.
CHARACTERS:
HEATHER: Late fifties.
KEITH: Early thirties. Brawny type.SETTING: A lighthouse. The living room.
TIME: The present. Evening.
AT RISE: (Wind howls. Chopin’s Nocturne notes, Op. 9 No. 2, the “Fortissimo” passage before the end resound in the room. HEATHER is at her computer.)
HEATHER: (Her hands on her ears. Shouts.) Stop it, for goodness sake, stop it! I’ll never get down to anything if I keep hearing that damned music. (Gets up.)
(Music stops.)
KEITH: (Enters.) The weather seems no good tonight. (Takes his coat and scarf off.) A bad storm’s coming up, for sure.
HEATHER: Hope it will make those hellish notes stop.
KEITH: What notes? (Looks at her.) Hey, are you alright, honey?
HEATHER: I can’t stand this place any longer, Keith.
KEITH: We’re in an old lighthouse, on no man’s land, what did you expect?
HEATHER: I thought it would give me some bloody ideas at least, but it didn’t.
KEITH: Perhaps you did it to keep me away from temptation?
HEATHER: Have I succeeded?
KEITH: (Chuckles.) The sea’s full of lovely mermaids. Whatever, we should have stuck to our downtown apartment; much more comfortable, baby.
HEATHER: The sea looked more inspiring than traffic jams.
KEITH: No problem, we’ll move somewhere else. What about an abandoned castle? Nothing more intriguing than secret passages, turrets and dungeons.
HEATHER: I’m not in the mood for joking; I’m not. Besides, this place is haunted, believe me.
KEITH: Your fault, love; too many ghost ships and drowned captains in your stories. Why won’t you try something different? You know, strapping guys, stunning gals?
HEATHER: So you believe my work sucks.
KEITH: You’re living in a world of your own, Heather, listening to the voices of your mind only, too distant from everyday life, trust me.
HEATHER: Or from you? Are you sure you’re still here?
KEITH: (Uneasy.) Alright, alright, it’s my fault too, I’ve been neglecting you lately, but the project I’m working on has absorbed me completely. I had to start earning a living sooner or later. You should be happy about it. (Sneers.) I’ll stop living on your back at last.
HEATHER: You spend your nights glued to your laptop, while I’m in bed waiting for you.
KEITH: So that’s the problem.
HEATHER: Who do you chat with?
KEITH: What about an apéritif?
HEATHER: That’s not an answer.
KEITH: (Chuckles.) In vino veritas, my dear.
HEATHER: Want to confess something?
KEITH: (Prepares the drinks.) Simply got in touch with an old acquaintance... She plays in an orchestra, a small one, but quite promising.
HEATHER: A musician? Wow!
KEITH: (Hands her a drink.) You know I’ve always found artists charming.
HEATHER: What sort of musician?
KEITH: A pianist, I think.
HEATHER: Oh, you think? Is she pretty?
KEITH: Don’t know, but who the heck cares? (Moves close to her.) Come on, honey, let’s drop the whole matter.
HEATHER: Does it make you uncomfortable?
KEITH: It seems to make you uncomfortable. Say, what about getting supper ready? I’m rather hungry. (Wind howls.)
HEATHER: (Looks at him.) I heard piano notes last night... Does she play for you?
KEITH: What nonsense.
HEATHER: I heard them, I said. And I keep hearing them.
KEITH: (Uneasy.) It happened only once. I was curious.
HEATHER: Tempted sounds better.
KEITH: For a few minutes only.
HEATHER: Enough to intrigue you.
KEITH: The way you’re handling the matter is disturbing, Heather.
HEATHER: I reckon she’s good...
KEITH: Divine. She plays Chopin fantastically.
HEATHER: You believe she plays better than I write.
KEITH: I’m sorry, honey.
HEATHER: I hate you.
KEITH: Why won’t you consider it a challenge, instead?
HEATHER: Is your heart the reward?
KEITH: Don’t be silly.
HEATHER: I understood it at once.
KEITH: What?
HEATHER: She’s come between us; especially at nighttime, when you should be there for me only.
KEITH: You’re raving.
HEATHER: (Looks at him.) She wants to please you. Those notes go on and on even when you log out.
KEITH: That sounds like mere jealousy, dear. (Wind howls louder.)
HEATHER: You want her to play for you for the rest of your life.
KEITH: Say, you jump to conclusions pretty fast, you do. (Takes her hands.) If my chatting upsets you, I’ll quit, no problem... Everything will go on as before.
HEATHER: It can’t. You listened. She’s in your heart now.
KEITH: You’ve gone mad, Heather, totally mad.
HEATHER: I even recognised the Nocturne opus 9, number 2. She loves the final phase when the pace increases till your heart bursts with sadness; then it calms down once again. She wants to tell me of you... of you both. Those notes have become her voice.
KEITH: It’s the nocturne in you that destroys you. Your feelings of failure have nourished the worst of your imagination.
HEATHER: Their sound is enchanting as the songs of mermaids calling their men. She managed to follow you here, too.
KEITH: (Shouts.) That’s bloody nonsense! Stop raving, baby. For your own good and for mine, stop it! (Clutches her head.) If only I could take all those stupid ideas out!
HEATHER: Get those hand off of me, you’re hurting me.
KEITH: (Steps away.) You’re living a nightmare, Heather.
HEATHER: Are you the one who’s going to wake me up?
KEITH: I tried, but didn’t make it. Got to do something, otherwise you’ll drown.
HEATHER: Admit it, Keith, you’ve already lowered your lifeboat. You knew the ship was sinking.
KEITH: Can you blame me?
HEATHER: How can I? (Moves close to him.) You see me as an old hag with nothing more to say.
KEITH: Hush, Heather, hush. (Holds her in his arms.) I must take you away from here at once, no more time to waste.
HEATHER: (Moves away.) No, you are the one who must go. Got to save yourself. This is a shipwreck.
KEITH: I won’t leave without you.
HEATHER: It’s too late for me. You can do me a favour, though.
KEITH: Darling, please...
HEATHER: Whenever a ship sinks there’s always an orchestra playing...
KEITH: Why do you want to hurt yourself so much?
HEATHER: You have to go all the way through now.
KEITH: You meant a lot to me, honey, you turned me into a man even if pathetic, even if unstable... gave me more than I gave you. We’re not even.
HEATHER: That’s not a good reason. You’re never even in love.
KEITH: What are you going to do?
HEATHER: (Moves to the window.) My captains are waiting for me. (Wind howls.)
KEITH: What the heck do you mean?
HEATHER: Go ahead, log in. It’s your right.
KEITH: No, please, don’t ask me that.
HEATHER: Hurry, before it’s too late.
(KEITH logs in.)
KEITH: She’s there...
HEATHER: She’s come for you.
(Chopin’s nocturne resounds in the room.)
Don’t keep her waiting, honey.
(Exits.)
KEITH: (Turns around.) Heather, no, wait... Heather! (Runs out.)
CURTAIN
Copyright © 2018 by Olivia Arieti
