The Lockout (a VERY short play in three acts)

pregnant with Armando

pregnant with Armando 2005

I was inspired to write this story of friendship when I was 4-months pregnant with my son in April 2005. I hope you enjoy it.

The Lockout
by Paula Reeves-Carrasquillo

Act 1: Scene 1

(Jake and Randall sit next to each other on the front steps of their house. It’s early spring and a gentle breeze is blowing.)

Jake: Let’s get out of here.

Randall: Where should we go, Jake?

Jake: Let’s roll up to Quinn’s and grab something to eat. There’s always good food at Quinn’s.

Randall: Sounds like a plan.

Act 1: Scene 2

(Jake and Randall stand in front of Quinn’s house: a small cape cod-style home with a fence running along the perimeter of the small yard. They are out of breath after running the one mile to Quinn’s house.)

Randall: It doesn’t look like Quinn’s around. Let’s check the backyard.

(The two walk along the side fence to the backyard.)

Jake: He’s not here either. I wonder where he could be; what time is it, Randall?

Randall: It feels like dinner time to me. He should be here.

Jake: Clearly he’s not. Let’s go back home.

(The two walk off in the direction from where they came.)

Act 2: Scene 1

(Jake and Randall come running on stage in front of Quinn’s house again. They are really out of breath this time and keep looking back over their shoulders acting like they just got away with something.)

Jake: [with a chuckle] Did you see the look on that guy’s face? He was boiling! How fast do you think we were running, Randall?

Randall: Fast enough to lose him, I hope. Did you see the gun in his rack? By the looks of it, that thing could fire automatically and hit us both in seconds. Seconds!

Jake: Yeah, but let’s not think about that right now. Right now, we need to figure out how to get back home going a different route. Jane must be worried sick looking for us by now.

Randall: Yeah, you’re right.

(They both turn to walk off in the direction of their house again. A noise is heard coming from the direction of Quinn’s backyard.)

Randall: Hey, I think I heard Quinn in the back. Let’s see.

(Jake and Randall walk along the fence to the backyard. Although Quinn is not in the yard, they can see him through the dining room window of the house.)

Randall: [pointing] Look, Jake, there he is! Should I try to get his attention?

Jake: Not too loud; we want him to come out alone.

(Randall lets out a low and quick bark. Quinn’s alerted ears can be seen through the window. Jake and Randall wait patiently for Quinn to come out through the back door, but he never shows.)

Jake: What’s taking so long? If he doesn’t come out soon, we’ll have to go before the catcher circles back to this street. What do you think, Randall, should we wait or go?

Randall: We gotta go. It’s Friday night. Jane probably has plans.

Jake: Yeah, plans. If we don’t get back soon, we may get locked out for the night. Let’s hurry!

(Jake and Randall scamper off stage toward their house. The day has turned to dusk.)

Act 3: Scene 1

(The setting is a park with large elms and a few benches scattered about. Jake and Randall are sprawled out under one of the trees.)

Jake: What time do you think it is, Randall?

Randall: It’s definitely past dinner time but too soon for Jane to be getting home from her plans. Why on earth did we leave the house in the first place?

Jake: It had something to do with food, I think. Doesn’t it always?

Randall: We get ourselves into more trouble thinking about food than we do thinking about anything else.

Jake: What else is there to think about, Randall? What else do you think about?

Randall: I think about lots of stuff. Like that Pomeranian two doors down. I bet she thinks about me, too. Do you think she thinks about me, Jake?

Jake: No way! We’re just two mangy mutts, and she’s a pristine pedigree. At least that’s what I heard Jane call her. Nope. She doesn’t think about us, not even for a minute.

Randall: I guess you’re right, Jake. [Randall pauses for a second. Then speaks excitedly.] What about Sally? SHE MUST think about us. I mean, we at least smell better than most, and we look pretty good up against Gus. He’s got those funny bottom teeth that…

Jake: [interrupting] He’s a bulldog, an English bulldog, Randall! All the girls think he’s sexy and fierce.

Randall: You mean I’m NOT sexy and fierce? Look at me. I can be fierce, Jake.
(Randall demonstrates by growling as low as he can and squishing his forehead tightly between his ears.)

Jake: [sarcastically] Ooooh! I’m scared! Come on, Randall, get real. We’re two regular dogs without balls, really. Haven’t you heard Jane call us cousin “Its” before? It’s not because our hair hangs in our eyes sometimes, either.

Randall: You mean that’s not a good thing? She’s not being sweet and complimentary when she says that?

Jake: It’s about as sweet and as complimentary as us calling the catcher a tick-infested hairball! Goodness no, Randall, it is NOT a compliment!

(Car lights suddenly light up the tress and benches. Jake and Randall stand hoping it’s Jane’s car pulling up to their house.)

Randall: Is it her? Is she back?

Jake: [stretching to get a better view] I—I—I’m not sure. Uh—no, it’s not her.

(They both slump back onto their bellies and rest their heads on their outstretched legs.)

Randall: Jake. Have I ever told you how much I love you and how glad I am that Jane picked both of us that afternoon at the pound?

Jake: Randal, you tell me everyday. Everyday I listen to you recall that story, because every night we get locked out, and EVERY night you get all wishy-washy, as if it’s going to be our last night, as if we’re going to freeze to death out here before Jane returns home. Relax, Randall. It’s April.

Randall: So, do you think the catcher will ever catch us?

Jake: Randall, you really need to stop worrying so much. [excited] Look! I think I see Jane’s car!

(Jake and Randall hurry off stage in the direction of another set of head lights.)

The End.

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