Open Door

Open Door
By Nester ‘n’ Ester ‘n’ Geetster

A drawing room in 21st century, futuristic style. In the room are 3 sofas and
an armchair, with chrome furnishings. A myriad of mirrors hangs on the walls.
There is one door leading out of the room, which stands open.
At rise, two people are in the room - FLO, a thirty-something year old
charming woman, and ROGER, a twenty-six year old attractive man. ROGER
is sitting in the armchair.
FLO [fixing her hair in a mirror]: Do you think my bangs look better swept to this
side [she does so] – or this side [again]?
ROGER [annoyed]: Why should it matter? I’m the only one who will see it.
FLO [incredulous]: Why should it matter? The Valet could come in at any moment.
ROGER: You're ridiculous. And besides, what business would he have coming back?
He’s the head valet, I’m sure he has lots of other things to deal with up here
on the third floor besides our little room.
FLO: I don’t know. He could bring someone else with him and I’d want to look my
best.
ROGER: We’ve been here for two months already. Face it. No one else is coming
though that door.
[BRIDGET enters the room.]
BRIDGET [back to the VALET, who is offstage]: Is this the right room?
ROGER: Speak of the Devil.
VALET [entering]: Yes, ma’am. This is exactly where you need to be. I think you’ll
find it…
FLO [interrupting, to the VALET]: So, who is this? We’d been alone up here for so
long that we didn’t think anyone else was coming. Will there be more where
she came from?
VALET: No.
ROGER [getting up, to VALET]: Then it will just be us three from now on? These two
women and myself.

VALET: Yes.
BRIDGET: Excuse me; I think I deserve a proper introduction.
FLO: How rude of us. My name is Florence, but you can call me Flo. That guy over
there is Roger, but you don’t want to talk to him – he hates women.
ROGER: Not all women.
VALET [going to leave]: Well, if my assistance is no longer needed then I guess I’ll…
BRIDGET [interrupting]: Wait! Where are all the clouds?
[FLO and ROGER snicker.]
VALET [coming back to her]: The what?
BRIDGET: You know – the clouds. Big, white, billowy. You hear about all sorts of
things like that down there.
FLO [still laughing]: I think you’re mistaken.
VALET: Nothing like that here, ma’am. Just room after room, hallway after hallway.
BRIDGET: And outside?
ROGER: He just told you. Rooms and hallways.
BRIDGET: No. I mean beyond all that.
VALET: Nothing.
BRIDGET: Well, you must go somewhere else when you aren’t working.
VALET: I visit my nephew on his floor.
BRIDGET: That’s it then?
VALET: Yes, ma’am. Anything else?
BRIDGET: I guess that’s it.
VALET: Great. If you ever need anything, just yell out this door. It never locks, even if
it gets closed. My room is just down the hall. [He exits, closing the door
behind him.]
[There is a moment of awkward silence between the three. FLO and ROGER
look at each other, then to the door. FLO reopens the door and moves to a
sofa. BRIDGET takes in the room.]

BRIDGET: Just look at this furniture! It's all divine. [Pointing to a sofa.] I'd like that
one, if it's not already called. [She approaches a mirror.] All these mirrors!
They way the light reflects in here – I don’t think I’ve ever seen myself this
beautiful.
FLO: It's wonderful, isn't it?
[ROGER scoffs, sits back in the armchair.]
BRIDGET: What's wrong with wanting to look nice?
ROGER: I don't see the point, now that we're all dead.
BRIDGET: Don't say that word. It's so ugly. If we must discuss it, can we use the
word “removed?” Much more cheery.
FLO: More cheery? Any way you look at it, we are still gone. No longer in the world
we knew.
ROGER: Trapped in this unending housing project from God knows where.
[A pause.]
BRIDGET: I suppose that we ought to get to know one another, considering we'll be
spending so much time together. My name is Bridget Garcin. I take it you two
know each other fairly well?
ROGER: You could say that.
FLO: It's so refreshing to see a new face after all this time. You assume that you
would see others in the hallways, but I've never seen another soul.
BRIDGET: Did you know each other before you were, uh... removed?
ROGER: We didn't.
FLO: I have an idea! Why don't we go around the room and say how we died.
Bridget, do you want to go first?
BRIDGET: I'd rather not.
FLO: Roger?
ROGER: I’ll pass.
BRIDGET: Yeah, why don’t you go first, Roger? Be the man.
ROGER [standoffish]: I shot myself in the face.
[BRIDGET gasps.]

FLO [jumping in, very overdramatic]: Well, my story started with this “damned
bitch” of a woman that I lived with. She was completely intolerable. Drove me
crazy.
ROGER: Come on, get on with it. No need for all the details.
FLO: Don’t rush me, Roger. [Resuming her story.] Anyway, that “damned bitch” was
always getting herself mixed up in my affairs. I don’t even remember the
night I died – the situation had gotten so out of control by that point.
ROGER: Like a bad dream?
FLO: Yes. A nightmare I never woke up from.
BRIDGET: How horrible. She must have made your life miserable.
FLO: She broke up me and my true love. [Suddenly tearful.] He got hit by a tram.
BRIDGET: So tragic. [To ROGER] Is yours that sad?
ROGER: Not exactly. More disturbing if anything.
BRIDGET: Really?
ROGER: My life was right on track. I was where I wanted to be in my life. I had a
beautiful lover and a daughter on the way. We ran away to Switzerland
together to start our new life – or so I thought. The day the baby came was
the happiest day of my life. Until…
FLO: And you thought I was dragging on! Geez!
ROGER: Until, I walked onto the balcony and saw her holding my newborn baby girl
over the edge. The balcony was above a lake. She had tied a stone to my girl
and I screamed, “For God’s sake, don’t!” I ran to the edge and the last thing I
saw was the water rippling with rings.
BRIDGET: Who would do such a thing?
FLO: A damned bitch, that’s who.
ROGER: She wasn’t a bitch, Flo. She was wonderful.
FLO [sarcastically]: Oh, so wonderful she threw your baby off a balcony!
ROGER: Shut up!
BRIDGET: So you just shot yourself? There’s got to be something you’re not telling
me.
ROGER: That’s it. Plain and simple.

BRIDGET: You’re a liar. I know a liar when I see one.
FLO: Yeah? I think it’s your turn to share.
BRIDGET: Well… my husband is responsible for my death. I loved him with all of my
heart and he took advantage of it like he did with every one of his cheap
whores. Night after night, he would come home reeking of alcohol with some
half-caste floozy draped on his arm. I was already in bed one night when I
heard him come in. They were laughing. I heard the whole thing. I couldn’t do
anything about it. I needed to show him how much I still cared about him. The
next morning I made him and his guest coffee.
FLO: I can’t believe you let him walk all over you like that. Why didn’t you stand up
for yourself?
BRIDGET: I didn’t let him walk all over me. He was a coward and he got what he
deserved. He was shot 12 times in the chest trying to flee the country. I had
been so used to living with him and his company that once he wasn’t there I
didn’t know what to do with myself. I became so lonely. I felt like there was no
meaning left in my life. I take responsibility for my actions. And besides, it’s
more believable than not remembering the night you died. I remember every
detail of that night.
FLO: It’s not that I don’t remember. I don’t want to remember.
BRIDGET: So you’re lying to yourself?
ROGER: And you’re not? Face it, we are all lying to ourselves. Why do you think we
are here?
FLO: Yeah. Roger didn’t shoot himself because of his baby. Did you, Roger?
ROGER: No. I couldn’t live with the fact that I stole another man’s wife. I could never
be someone like your husband, Bridget.
FLO: And I could never stand becoming someone like that damned bitch. She would
always say to me, “Yes, my pet, we killed him between us.” It tore me up. She
drove me away from him and I slowly realized how similar we were. The only
thing I could do was get rid of the problem. Since she wasn’t going anywhere
voluntarily, I had to do it myself. I left the gas running one night and the next
thing I knew I was here, with all these mirrors. At first, I couldn’t stand to look
in them – all I could see was her and what she had done to me.
BRIDGET: You let her transform you. You had a choice.
ROGER: We all had choices to make. Bridget, you above all should know that.
FLO [to BRIDGET]: You could have left him at any moment.

BRIDGET [moving to a mirror]: I know. After he died, I went to a therapist who said I
suffered from depression. He gave me this bottle of pills… I was so weak. Oh
God, I can see it in my face now. [She turns away from the mirror.] The night I
died I got dressed in my Sunday best, opened a bottle of wine, took the rest
of the pills, and celebrated my remaining hours. I couldn’t cry over him; he
wasn’t worth the tears.
ROGER: We are all responsible for our own deaths. We lost the will to live.
FLO: That’s why we are here.
BRIDGET: I don’t think I can stay here with you two forever. You’ve brought out the
worst in me.
ROGER: The door is right there. You could have walked out at any time. You still can.
FLO: We all can. But what’s the point? There are only more rooms and hallways.
ROGER: It’d be away from all these mirrors.
BRIDGET: Yes. These mirrors. I can’t stand looking at them anymore. [She tries to
crack one of the mirrors. It won’t break. She tries another. And another.]
ROGER: Don’t you think I’ve tried that? There’s no escaping them.
[BRIDGET runs for the door. It slams shut before she gets there. She tries the
handle.]
BRIDGET: It’s locked!
FLO: We’re stuck here now. Just us three.
ROGER: We were meant to be together in here. To torment each other. Hell is other
people.
[BRIDGET has moved back to a mirror. She looks intently at her reflection.]
BRIDGET : No. Hell is ourselves.
CURTAIN