CHARLES LEARNS HIS LESSON

©1997 by John Robinson Wheeler. All rights reserved.

 

SCENE TWO.

 

In the rose garden, night. Charles is rubbing his hands in the brisk country air. He's got the family Bible tucked under his arm. Phelps enters.

PHELPS:

I've come to wish you good-night, sir. The staff are already on their way home.

CHARLES:

Whoof! I say, it is brisk.

PHELPS:

Indeed, sir. It is only eight degrees.

CHARLES:

Eight! Well, with the wind chill and all, what?

PHELPS:

It is due to get cooler still. Will you be out here long, sir?

CHARLES:

Oh, I don't know. I was going to sit out here and read a bit, but I'm no longer convinced how terribly comfy that might be.

PHELPS:

Shall I fetch your cap and scarf, sir?

CHARLES:

Yes, that would be good. Guess I'll need them even if it is too cold for a stroll in the old all-together, eh? You know, in the old birthday suit.

PHELPS:

Yes, sir. We discussed this earlier, sir. Stay away from the bees, sir.

Exit PHELPS.

CHARLES:

I'm more likely to suffer a shrinking Johnson than a stung Johnson in this climate. And I was kidding anyway! Super. Now I've convinced my man that his master is not only a spoiled snob, but a streaker as well. Some kind of compulsive nudist with a flower fetish! Remind me never to make jokes around Auntie ever again.

GHOSTLY VOICES:

Charles! Charles!

CHARLES:

Eh, what? Who's there?

GHOSTLY VOICES:

Charles, can you hear us?

CHARLES:

Phelps! Phelps! Phelps!

GHOSTLY VOICES:

Groannnn....

Enter PHELPS.

PHELPS:

Did you call, sir? Here are your scarf and cap. I hope you have not become too chilled while I was away.

CHARLES:

Phelps, I heard voices!

PHELPS:

Voices, sir?

CHARLES:

I don't know how else to describe it. They were calling my name. "Charles, Charles!"

PHELPS:

I assume it was merely the wind, sir, and your imagination.

CHARLES:

If it were, I must be going balmy.

PHELPS:

Perhaps you would care for a glass of port, sir, to calm your nerves.

CHARLES:

No, no, you're supposed to be off already. You've already put in extra time fetching my cap.

PHELPS:

I must say, sir, your report of hearing voices is troubling. I should not wish to leave you alone in such a state, as it may become amplified by the solitude. There is a stiff wind, and when the house is empty and the wind whistles through, it makes the foundation shift, and the house settles in the chilled air, and the open flues of the chimneys and stove pipes can make for quite a phantasmic chatter. Such has been the experience of the night staff, sir.

CHARLES:

Good god, Phelps. You're not helping much to keep my wits straight. Now I'm thoroughly spooked, and nothing's even happened yet.

PHELPS:

I do apologize, sir.

GHOSTLY VOICES:

Charles! We must talk with you. Can you hear us?

PHELPS:

Oh, dear.

CHARLES:

Quite the ripper, isn't it?

PHELPS:

I see what you mean, sir. Quite eerie indeed, sir.

CHARLES:

Gets the old heart beating, doesn't it?

PHELPS:

Most efficiently, sir.

CHARLES:

You're on your day off now, Phelps. Feel free to show some emotion.

PHELPS:

I'm afraid that won't be possible, sir. It is the only thing keeping me together at the moment.

CHARLES:

That bad, is it?

GHOSTLY VOICES:

Charles!

PHELPS:

I assure you I am in quite a state, sir.

CHARLES:

Really? Funny, I'm starting to get used to it. Hello? Hello there!

GHOSTLY VOICES:

We must speak to you, Charles.

CHARLES:

I'm all ears.

GHOSTLY VOICES:

Ohhhhhh...

CHARLES:

Well, go on. You've got our attention.

GHOSTLY VOICES:

Send him away! Send him away!

CHARLES:

What, you mean Phelps?

GHOSTLY VOICES:

Send him away!

CHARLES:

Seems they don't like your company, Phelps.

PHELPS:

The feeling is quite mutual, sir.

CHARLES:

Well, I suppose we'd better do as they say.

PHELPS:

I would be most delighted to oblige, sir, but I am afraid that I am simply too scared to move from this spot.

CHARLES:

Petrified, eh?

PHELPS:

In a word...

GHOSTLY VOICES:

Send him away. Now!

PHELPS:

...yes, sir. Quite literally.

CHARLES:

They're getting more antsy by the minute. Maybe they don't have much time.

PHELPS:

That would seem to be de rigeur  for ghosts, sir.

CHARLES:

If I give you a push, Phelps, can you make a dash for it?

PHELPS:

I shall do my very best, sir.

CHARLES:

Right. I'll count three, then heave-ho, what?

PHELPS:

Yes, sir.

CHARLES:

Perhaps you could use a good snort yourself when you get home.

PHELPS:

Provided I get there, sir. Please hurry, sir.

CHARLES:

Right-o. One, two, three!

PHELPS: (dashing off)

Good luck, sir!

Exit PHELPS.

CHARLES:

There, that's done it. Good man.

GHOSTLY VOICES:

Charles, Charles.

CHARLES:

Yes, you've done that bit. I say, is it just me, or do you sound familiar?

GHOSTLY VOICES:

Call us forth, Charles.

CHARLES:

Yes, I believe you do. Now let's see. Who do you remind me of?

GHOSTLY VOICES:

Call us forth. Ohhh....

CHARLES:

I've got it! No, it can't be. Mum? Dad?

GHOSTLY VOICES:

Oh, Charles. Here we are.

Enter MUM and DAD,as ghosts.

DAD:

Charles, my boy.

CHARLES:

Is that really you? You're ghosts!

MUM:

Do we look that bad?

DAD:

You look as ravishing as ever, my dear.

MUM:

Oh, Clifford.

CHARLES:

I must say, you both don't look half bad at that. I mean, Mum, you've been dead for twenty years. And Dad — longer than that.

MUM:

Twenty years! Ohhhh...

DAD:

Don't talk about time, Charles. It upsets your mother.

MUM:

The longing, the terrible hunger...

CHARLES:

Hunger? I say, you two aren't the type of fiendish ghouls that, you know, feast on human flesh or anything, are you?

DAD:

Don't be ridiculous, Charles. Ghosts can't eat anything.

MUM:

Ohhhhhh...

DAD:

It's all right, my dear. We'll get you something to eat in another thousand years or so.

CHARLES:

A thousand years!

MUM:

Time works differently for us, Charles. To us, it's been twenty thousand already.

DAD:

Nearly thirty for me!

MUM:

That's right, thirty for your father.

CHARLES:

Well, look, I don't want to seem pushy or anything, and it is wonderful to see you both again, but what is it exactly you want?

MUM:

We're here to help you learn your lesson, Charles.

CHARLES:

My lesson?

DAD:

You called out earlier today, remember?

CHARLES:

You heard that?

DAD:

Well, not personally, no.

MUM:

A messenger told us.

CHARLES:

Really? What do you know. Someone up there hears you.

MUM:

Oh, yes, dear. Everything you say and do.

CHARLES:

Everything?

DAD:

Everything.

MUM:

Don't worry, dear. You'll be glad to know that there's a lot of spirits who are there to help you.

CHARLES:

There are? And I was worried I was such a miserable sot.

DAD:

You are. That's why you need the help!

MUM:

Don't be rude to the boy, Clifford.

DAD:

That's what we're here to do, Deanna. We've got to talk some sense into the boy before it's too late.

MUM:

Charles, listen to your father. You've got to change, really change.

CHARLES:

You mean about being spoiled?

DAD:

Er...

MUM:

Well, Charles... that is to say...

CHARLES:

What? You mean it's not about that?

DAD:

It is, but...

MUM:

What we're trying to say, Charles, is that yes, being spoiled is one of the symptoms of your problem, but...

CHARLES:

Symptoms?

DAD:

But it's not the disease, so to speak.

CHARLES:

Disease?

GHOSTLY VOICE:

Tell him!

CHARLES:

I say, who was that!

DAD:

You don't want to know.

CHARLES:

I do, rather.

DAD:

No, Charles. You don't.

CHARLES:

Well, that's put the spook back into things.

MUM:

We can't lie to you, Charles.

DAD:

Not anymore, anyway.

MUM:

Yes, not anymore, we can't. You're going to have to face some terrifying spirits before the night is through.

CHARLES:

Wait, wait, wait. What was that about not lying to me anymore ?

DAD:

Er, nothing, nothing.

CHARLES:

You mean you've lied to me?

DAD:

Oh, don't be so self-righteous, Charles. Everyone lies to their children now and then.

CHARLES:

What! What did you lie to me about?

MUM:

It's time for us to go, Charles. But we'll be with you.

CHARLES:

Oh no you don't! You can't sneak out like that! It's barely half past ten.

DAD:

Listen to your mother, Charles. Let us go. You have to face the others without us.

CHARLES:

I won't give you permission to leave until you answer my question.

MUM:

What question was that, then?

CHARLES:

I want to know what you lied to me about.

DAD:

Er...

MUM:

Er...

CHARLES:

Come on. I can wait here for some time.

GHOSTLY VOICE:

It is time!

MUM:

Ohhhh!

DAD:

You have to let us go, Charles.

CHARLES:

My, aren't the roses pretty. I think I'll stop and smell them.

GHOSTLY VOICE:

Ahhhhhrrrrhhhhrrrrrr!

MUM:

Oh, for goodness sake, one of us needs to tell him!

DAD:

I'm not telling him.

MUM:

I'm not telling him.

CHARLES:

One of you better tell me. Tell me and you can go.

MUM:

We're not really your true parents. You were adopted. Bye!

DAD:

Bye son, er, Charles!

Exit MUM and DAD.

CHARLES:

What! Wait! I'm adopted? Then if you're not my parents, why did you come here tonight? What's going on?

 

The wind howls and whistles in a quite frightening way.

CHARLES:

Well, shit.

 

Charles drops the Bible and turns inside.

Exit CHARLES.

 

Scene 3