Rent-controlled Apartment in the Village
by Henrik Eger
Synopsis
Philip, a popular New York music critic and landlord of a small room in his rent-controlled apartment in New York’s Greenwich Village recounts experiences that have haunted him for years: A fundamentalist married couple from the Midwest who drive through the Village during the night of the Stonewall riots in their Jesus-decorated VW bus, shouting abuse. Later, the wife assumes that their Jewish host is a wonderful Christian because he has images of naked men from “the Sixteenth Chapel” at the Vatican in his bathroom. However, the aggressive husband doesn’t let up, and Philip has to take action.
One of the most moving scenarios takes place when Emma, a middle-aged woman, arrives and shows no interest in leaving the apartment to explore New York, like all the other tourists. The play shows the interactions between the empathetic gay landlord and the mentally disturbed woman who has run away and, for the first time in her life, feels safe and absolutely at home.
One of the most moving scenarios takes place when Emma, a middle-aged woman, arrives and shows no interest in leaving the apartment to explore New York, like all the other tourists. The play shows the interactions between the empathetic gay landlord and the mentally disturbed woman who has run away and, for the first time in her life, feels safe and absolutely at home.
Characters
Philip, gay, middle aged New York music critic
Martin, gay, British graduate with a strong Oxford accent, visiting Greenwich Village
Bethel Schneidermann, religious housewife from Kansas
Jeremiah Schneidermann, her husband, farmhand, and assistant minister at a small church
Emma, mentally disturbed woman on the run from a mental institution
Martin, gay, British graduate with a strong Oxford accent, visiting Greenwich Village
Bethel Schneidermann, religious housewife from Kansas
Jeremiah Schneidermann, her husband, farmhand, and assistant minister at a small church
Emma, mentally disturbed woman on the run from a mental institution
Setting And Time
ACT 1: Outside a bookstore in Greenwich Village
Small, rent-controlled apartment in Greenwich Village, New York
ACT 2: Martin’s study in Philadelphia
June 1969, late 1980s, two years later—long before AirBnB.
Small, rent-controlled apartment in Greenwich Village, New York
ACT 2: Martin’s study in Philadelphia
June 1969, late 1980s, two years later—long before AirBnB.
Excerpt, Scene 4
EMMA
(Knocks at the door.)
It’s me. It’s me. It’s really me.
PHILIP
“Me” who?
(He laughs, opens the door, Emma, a deranged woman, smiles at him.)
Hello, and who are you? I’m not expecting any guest until tomorrow.
EMMA
Don’t you know? It’s me. It’s me. I managed to get out earlier. I made it all the way to your place.
PHILIP
I’m Philip, and who are you?
EMMA
Oh. Oh, I’m sorry. I’m Emma. A friend booked for me through the agency.
PHILIP
Ah, Emma. Yes, I got your reservation for tomorrow. Don’t worry. Nobody is here today so you are fine.
EMMA
Nobody is here? Nobody?
PHILIP
Nobody. Relax. Can I get you something to drink? Water? Coffee? Tea?
EMMA
Yes. Whatever you want. Tea. Tea. And Sugar. Sugar. What did you say your name was?
PHILIP
It’s Philip. I’m a music critic and I can answer any question you may have about music in New York.
EMMA
No, thanks. I just like to sit here. I feel really safe here. You’re not a cop, are you?
PHILIP
No, I’m not, but I’m glad you feel safe here. Why don’t I play some music for you?
EMMA
No. Please don’t. I can’t think properly when I hear music. It sort of pulls my brains out.
PHILIP
(He walks in with a pot of tea and 2 cups, sugar bowl, and creamer.)
Here we are, Emma. Lots of sugar. Help yourself. And tell me all about yourself.
EMMA
Oh, thank you, thank you. Hope you have more sugar. What did you say was your name?
PHILIP
Philip. Some of my friends call me Phil.
EMMA
I like Philip. Tell me all about yourself. I won’t tell. I never tell. It’s way too dangerous.
PHILIP
What can I tell you? I am single again. Gordon, my partner of ten years, died suddenly last year.
EMMA
I’m sorry to hear it. I lost my best friend, too. She tried to protect me, but then the social worker used some tricks to get me out of the house, you know, just like that. So I hit the social worker, really hard. I smashed our best tea pot on her head. I shouldn’t have done that. I should have used that damn old coffee pot which was no good, but the tea pot was nice, really nice—like your tea pot.
PHILIP
Emma, what happened?
EMMA
They locked me up and dragged me in front of a judge and a jury, can you believe it? It was just that teapot. That nice tea pot. You know, the one with the flowers painted all over it.
PHILIP
And then what?
EMMA
You’re sure there’s nobody here? They sent in a psychologist or whatever he was. Dr. Goldstein, or Silverstein, something. And he said that I was not guilty because I had no control over that tea pot, you know, the one with the flowers? So the judge and the jury decided it would be best if I spent some years in, you know, one of them places where they are all crazy—but not me! I’m the only normal one there.
PHILIP
How did you manage to leave that place and come to New York?
EMMA
Genevieve. I love Genevieve. She’s even going to join me here tomorrow night.
PHILIP
Really? What’s the name of the place where they kept you?
EMMA
Genevieve said I mustn’t tell anybody. Nobody . . . but I can tell you, you’re nice. You really want to know? . . . Well, it’s the Bellevue.
PHILIP
The Bellevue? That’s not far from here.
EMMA
I know. I made it all by myself. Isn’t that great?
PHILIP
Emma, I just remember that I need to buy some food for breakfast tomorrow morning. Would you like to look after my apartment for just a few moments? I’ll be back soon.
EMMA
Sure. Buy more sugar! But make sure to come back. Please, don’t leave me behind.
PHILIP
No problem. I’ll be back soon. Very soon.
EMMA
Good. Do you have some more sugar? I want to drink more from your teapot with them flowers.
PHILIP
Sure, here’s a whole bag of sugar. See ya soon.
(He leaves. Weird, deranged music, lights out.)
If you are interested in producing or adapting this copyrighted play, please contact the playwright.
(Knocks at the door.)
It’s me. It’s me. It’s really me.
PHILIP
“Me” who?
(He laughs, opens the door, Emma, a deranged woman, smiles at him.)
Hello, and who are you? I’m not expecting any guest until tomorrow.
EMMA
Don’t you know? It’s me. It’s me. I managed to get out earlier. I made it all the way to your place.
PHILIP
I’m Philip, and who are you?
EMMA
Oh. Oh, I’m sorry. I’m Emma. A friend booked for me through the agency.
PHILIP
Ah, Emma. Yes, I got your reservation for tomorrow. Don’t worry. Nobody is here today so you are fine.
EMMA
Nobody is here? Nobody?
PHILIP
Nobody. Relax. Can I get you something to drink? Water? Coffee? Tea?
EMMA
Yes. Whatever you want. Tea. Tea. And Sugar. Sugar. What did you say your name was?
PHILIP
It’s Philip. I’m a music critic and I can answer any question you may have about music in New York.
EMMA
No, thanks. I just like to sit here. I feel really safe here. You’re not a cop, are you?
PHILIP
No, I’m not, but I’m glad you feel safe here. Why don’t I play some music for you?
EMMA
No. Please don’t. I can’t think properly when I hear music. It sort of pulls my brains out.
PHILIP
(He walks in with a pot of tea and 2 cups, sugar bowl, and creamer.)
Here we are, Emma. Lots of sugar. Help yourself. And tell me all about yourself.
EMMA
Oh, thank you, thank you. Hope you have more sugar. What did you say was your name?
PHILIP
Philip. Some of my friends call me Phil.
EMMA
I like Philip. Tell me all about yourself. I won’t tell. I never tell. It’s way too dangerous.
PHILIP
What can I tell you? I am single again. Gordon, my partner of ten years, died suddenly last year.
EMMA
I’m sorry to hear it. I lost my best friend, too. She tried to protect me, but then the social worker used some tricks to get me out of the house, you know, just like that. So I hit the social worker, really hard. I smashed our best tea pot on her head. I shouldn’t have done that. I should have used that damn old coffee pot which was no good, but the tea pot was nice, really nice—like your tea pot.
PHILIP
Emma, what happened?
EMMA
They locked me up and dragged me in front of a judge and a jury, can you believe it? It was just that teapot. That nice tea pot. You know, the one with the flowers painted all over it.
PHILIP
And then what?
EMMA
You’re sure there’s nobody here? They sent in a psychologist or whatever he was. Dr. Goldstein, or Silverstein, something. And he said that I was not guilty because I had no control over that tea pot, you know, the one with the flowers? So the judge and the jury decided it would be best if I spent some years in, you know, one of them places where they are all crazy—but not me! I’m the only normal one there.
PHILIP
How did you manage to leave that place and come to New York?
EMMA
Genevieve. I love Genevieve. She’s even going to join me here tomorrow night.
PHILIP
Really? What’s the name of the place where they kept you?
EMMA
Genevieve said I mustn’t tell anybody. Nobody . . . but I can tell you, you’re nice. You really want to know? . . . Well, it’s the Bellevue.
PHILIP
The Bellevue? That’s not far from here.
EMMA
I know. I made it all by myself. Isn’t that great?
PHILIP
Emma, I just remember that I need to buy some food for breakfast tomorrow morning. Would you like to look after my apartment for just a few moments? I’ll be back soon.
EMMA
Sure. Buy more sugar! But make sure to come back. Please, don’t leave me behind.
PHILIP
No problem. I’ll be back soon. Very soon.
EMMA
Good. Do you have some more sugar? I want to drink more from your teapot with them flowers.
PHILIP
Sure, here’s a whole bag of sugar. See ya soon.
(He leaves. Weird, deranged music, lights out.)
If you are interested in producing or adapting this copyrighted play, please contact the playwright.
