A bunch of us founded the Sandbox Artists Collective a few years ago “as a place for mid-career artists to explore their craft in the company of their peers.” Unlike most assemblages of show folk, the Sandboxers weren’t in any hurry to produce publicly as a group. Most of us were already performing, writing and/or producing professionally elsewhere. We were not, however, completely quiet in our first years, hosting salons, like “Playground” in which four Sandbox playwrights wrote specifically for Sandbox actors. Finally, however— and fully to the credit of Leslie Law’s leadership— the membership felt the urge to share what happens when we put our collective mind into putting on a show. The result was last month’s Sandbox Radio Live, Episode 1, available now in podcast here.
On an individual artist’s note, Sandbox Radio Live has given me the opportunity and motivation to finally flesh out a project I have been percolating since high school. For all that time, all I knew was that I wanted to wright a nasty noir angel detective saga. Now you can listen to the first chapter of Markheim on the podcast, with the incomparable Charles Leggett starring in the title role of the reluctant semi-heavenly gumshoe. Below the fold I am posting the script in case you want to follow along.
And be sure to attend the next episode of Sandbox Radio Live on Monday, October 10th at West of Lenin, the fabulous new theatre space in Fremont, when Markheim adjusts to life in the strange city of Seattle, and begins his search for the reasons that brought him here. Special appearance by the fellow that Jesus Christ Himself once called “the Prince of the World.”
Markheim: Episode 1
by Paul Mullin
Intro
VOICE: There are bureaucracies you cannot know about. Bureaucracies which in turn barely know about you.
And yet... and yet... the gears of their working turn in gears turning gears clockwise and counter, clockwise and counter, turning in turn your gears, too.
Scene 1
(Seph and Chub.)
SEPH: Upstairs wants this case clear or closed before the 25th.
CHUB: Why?
SEPH: You’re asking me?
CHUB: No that it matters, but yeah, I guess it matters. A rush might mean a different approach. We’re short-handed and maxed.
SEPH: Aren’t you chubs always?
CHUB: Not like this, no.
SEPH: You didn’t hear it from me but for some reason the flip’s important. Fits in down the line. Quasi-apocalypse shit and so forth. The clockwork ostensibly turns on this kid. Somewhere down the line.
CHUB: Just what sephs say when they don’t want to say. “Upstairs wants.” “Down the line.” “The flip fits the clockwork.” “You understand you couldn’t possibly understand.”
SEPH: Done?
CHUB: Always quasi-apocalypse shit. But never quite actually apocalypse. You know?
SEPH: You have time for this? I sure don’t.
CHUB: Right, rush. You got a jacket on the flip?
SEPH: There.
(We hear the dossier slide across a table. We hear the seal broken, the string unwrapped and the files inside perused.)
CHUB: Shit.
SEPH: That’s what it is.
CHUB: You’re not serious. You’re serious?
SEPH: Fraid so.
CHUB: This is ugly side. I got nothing for this.
SEPH: Nothing?
CHUB: We are very short handed. I haven’t had the talent for this on staff in...
SEPH: What?
CHUB: A while.
SEPH: So, no then?
CHUB: Mostly no, yeah.
SEPH: “Mostly, no.” That’ll sell well upstairs.
CHUB: Or give me a Markheim.
(Pause.)
Sell that upstairs.
SEPH: That hasn’t sold in a long time, chub.
CHUB: Times change, seph. Times are tough. There’s a clockwork you say, which the flip fits into. And I got nothing to flip with. Cut me loose a Markheim.
SEPH: You wouldn’t know what to do with one.
CHUB: From what I hear, I wouldn’t need to.
(Long pause.)
SEPH: I’ll see what I can sell.
Scene 2
(Chub and Markheim.)
CHUB: There’s the jacket on the flip.
(Chub slides the dossier across to Markheim.)
You gonna open it?
MARKHEIM: Not necessary. I see it. I got it.
CHUB: Oh.
MARKHEIM: What I don’t see is why you need me?
CHUB: We do. I do.
MARKHEIM: You chubs getting bored or soft?
CHUB: Neither. We’re short staffed. Don’t really have the talent for something this...overt. And the flip fits in a clockwork.
MARKHEIM: Don’t they all?
CHUB: I wouldn’t know.
MARKHEIM: You can say that again.
CHUB: Yes or no.
MARKHEIM: Sure. Okay. Something to do, I guess.
CHUB: I’ll need your ticket.
MARKHEIM: Really?
CHUB: Really.
MARKHEIM: Any particular reason?
CHUB: It’s gotten tight over there. Counter-smoke’s a bitch. Your cover is you’ve got no cover. You’re nobody. If you’re blown, you’re on your own.
MARKHEIM: And no ticket back.
CHUB: Is that a deal-breaker?
MARKHEIM: There’d have to be deal to break.
CHUB: I can understand your concerns but I’m afraid our holding your ticket is non-negotiable.
MARKHEIM: You’re hilarious.
CHUB: I’m not kidding.
MARKHEIM: Oh, I know. You’re hilarious because you’re convinced I care.
CHUB: I would care, your shoes.
MARKHEIM: I know you would, sweetheart. I know.
(Sound of Markheim giving Chub the ticket— pulling and an envelope from a pocket perhaps— and sliding it across the table.)
There. Now you can rest in peace.
CHUB: You’ll get it back.
MARKHEIM: Sure I will.
CHUB: Listen. We don’t care if you have to abort. Just don’t get blown and you can come back.
MARKHEIM: It’s okay to fail so long as I don’t blow my cover which is nothing?
CHUB: Right.
MARKHEIM: And if I do?
CHUB: Well.
MARKHEIM: You’ll have my ticket.
CHUB: Right.
MARKHEIM: So I’m stuck over there.
CHUB: Right.
MARKHEIM: The Wandering Jew Solution.
CHUB: Essentially.
MARKHEIM: Glad to see you guys still sticking with the classics.
Scene 3
(Sound of a match flaring. The Flip let’s out a yelp. Knocks over some boxes as he whips around to see Markheim sitting in a chair. He racks back the slide to feed a round into the chamber.)
FLIP: What the fuck?
MARKHEIM: You gonna shoot me?
FLIP: Where did you come from? How the fuck did you get in that chair? That chair was empty when I came in here. I had to have seen you.
MARKHEIM: I can’t tell you what to see. I can tell you though that if you’re gonna bring a piece on a job you should have a round racked ahead of time. It’s just sloppy not to. Who knows what you’re gonna run into and how much time you’ll have to react? Shit. Listen to me. Forget it. I’m just talking. Don’t get me talking. No good ever came of it.
You really should shoot me, you know.
FLIP: Why?
MARKHEIM: ‘Cuz I’m a... I’m a bad influence. You should at least try shooting me. Try.
FLIP: Too much noise.
MARKHEIM: You got a knife on ya.
FLIP: Yeah, I got a knife.
MARKHEIM: Use that.
FLIP: I try not to kill psychos.
MARKHEIM: You ever kill anybody?
FLIP: Believe it.
MARKHEIM: I’m having trouble.
FLIP: There’s a first time for everything.
MARKHEIM: Not everything.
Did that one see your face?
FLIP: What?
MARKHEIM: When you were turning this place over? Did it see your face?
FLIP: “It?”
MARKHEIM: The twist. On the floor. Duct-taped? Took you by surprise, didn’t it? Caught your face.
FLIP: Yeah.
MARKHEIM: Well, can’t let that stand.
FLIP: I didn’t.
MARKHEIM: Oh, you mean knocking it out, taping it up?
FLIP: Yeah.
MARKHEIM: Chickenshit temporary solution. You’re gonna have to do it.
FLIP: Do what?
MARKHEIM: And you were right. Use the knife.
FLIP: And you?
MARKHEIM: Me? Nah. You blew the chance with that.
FLIP: What?
MARKHEIM: Flip! Kill the twist. Use the knife. Do it fast. This ain’t the movies. They don’t stay unconscious for hours. Slash the neck, all the way through both the windpipe and jugular. Both. Then leave the knife in the heart for safe keeping. Those gloves were smart. See? You’re smart. You know what you’re doing. Do the right thing.
FLIP: The right thing?
MARKHEIM: The smart thing. The only thing. Do it. Now.
FLIP: Doesn’t seem like...
MARKHEIM: You think there’s a god?
FLIP: What? Hell no.
MARKHEIM: Well there is. I’ve met Him. And He’s an angrier uglier brutaler motherfucker than you could ever hope to meet. He wants this, trust me. He wants you know what this feels like. He made you for this. You know at least that much in your dumb guts. You think I’m lying but you know it’s true. Do it! Slash it. Stick it. Get a taste. Stick your tongue in for a taste. You know you want to. You know what’ll happen if you do. Just the beginning.
FLIP: What? That ain’t me.
MARKHEIM: You have no idea what’s you. What you could do? How far you could go? Unstoppable. You could be like Him. And He wants that for you.
FLIP: Who are you?
MARKHEIM: I’m your worst nightmare, flip.
FLIP: I know.
MARKHEIM: And?
FLIP: And it doesn’t matter.
MARKHEIM: No.
FLIP: It doesn’t matter.
MARKHEIM: No. It does.
FLIP: Oh my god.
MARKHEIM: Shit.
FLIP: What’s happening?
MARKHEIM: Shit.
FLIP: What’s happening to your face?
MARKHEIM: Hell if I know. You tell me.
FLIP: You can’t see that?
MARKHEIM: See what?
FLIP: You’re glowing.
MARKHEIM: Illusion. Trick.
FLIP: I can... I can barely look at you.
MARKHEIM: So don’t look at me. Listen to me. Close your eyes and slash the neck.
FLIP: You don’t see that?
MARKHEIM: Ask me if I care.
FLIP: You’re something... holy, aren’t you?
MARKHEIM: It’s just a glow, flip. You’ll get over it.
FLIP: No. I’ll never get over this. You saved me.
MARKHEIM: Bullshit. I did everything I could not to.
FLIP: Yeah. Yeah, cuz you knew that was the only thing that would work.
MARKHEIM: I didn’t know shit.
FLIP: Only you.
MARKHEIM: I like to talk. I talk shit on and on. I don’t even know what I’m saying. That’s why they sent me. I’m a Markheim. It’s what I do. Can’t help it.
FLIP: You’re a miracle worker.
MARKHEIM: And you’re an idiot. We don’t get to choose our lot in life.
Scene 4
(Markheim slides Chubb the wax-sealed dossier.)
CHUBB: That was fast.
MARKHEIM: It’s always fast.
CHUBB: I wouldn’t know.
MARKHEIM: Yeah.
CHUBB: Well, thanks.
MARKHEIM: Save it, Chub.
CHUBB: Okay. There’s your ticket.
MARKHEIM: Yeah. Keep it.
CHUBB: I can’t keep it. It’s yours. Job’s done. Time to go home.
MARKHEIM: You mean the Fix?
CHUBB: I mean home. You can’t get there without your ticket.
MARKHEIM: I said keep it.
CHUBB: This is a problem, Markheim.
MARKHEIM: Maybe. But it’s not mine. I’m done with the Fix. See ya, Chub.
CHUB: I’m going to have to take this upstairs.
MARKHEIM: Yeah?
CHUBB: Yeah.
MARKHEIM: Do me a favor.
CHUB: Yeah?
MARKHEIM: You take it as far up as it can go.
(Markheim goes.)
Epilogue
(Bez and Markhiem.
Sounds of the harbor, ferry horns and the viaduct.)
BEZ: You picked a nice spot.
MARKHEIM: Yeah? Yeah. What do they call it?
BEZ: Seattle.
MARKHEIM: Never heard of it.
BEZ: No reason you should’ve.
MARKHEIM: And this spot? What do they call this spot, Bez?
BEZ: Harborsteps.
MARKHEIM: Well that makes sense, at least.
BEZ: Yeah.
(pause)
BEZ: So how long you think they’ll let you just wonder around over here unchaperoned?
MARKHEIM: Why should they care? They always get what they want.
BEZ: Maybe. But they ain’t crazy about... the unexpected.
MARKHEIM: They’d kill the golden goose?
BEZ: They done stupider.
MARKHEIM: True that.
BEZ: Killed goldener.
MARKHEIM: Yeah. Yeah, they have.
BEZ: And, you know, if you’re not on assignment over here...
MARKHEIM: What?
BEZ: Well.
MARKHEIM: What?
BEZ: I mean, who’s saying Sam can’t scoop you up?
MARKHEIM: Nobody.
BEZ: Or take you out.
MARKHEIM: He’s had opportunities, prior.
BEZ: When you were on jobs. He may not see it the same, you being a tourist.
MARKHEIM: Sam and I go way back.
BEZ: That’s what everybody says about Sam.
MARKHEIM: Really?
BEZ: Really.
MARKHEIM: Well...
BEZ: What?
MARKHEIM: Life’s a bitch and then you die.
(pause)
BEZ: You wish, Markheim.
(End of episode.)
© 2011 Paul Mullin
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