Thumbnail sketch of earlier scenes: Cornelius Plumb has a first-scene encounter with his eighth-grade classmates, his rather troubled, and troubling, teacher, and most especially with his psychic counterpart, Cililla Queez, who apparently exists to help him work through a rough patch in his puberty. Between scenes, he is bullied and pummeled by a classmate and in scene two, his father confronts him about his non-combativeness. Mr. & Mrs. Plumb have a verbal battle of their own over what is best for Cornelius, and Mrs. Plumb reveals a letter from the principal requesting a meeting with mother and son.
CHARACTERS
Cornelius Plumb: An autistic, musical genius child, age 12. He is uncommonly handsome, well-groomed, well-dressed. His speech is clipped, with a beat, between each word, as though he is forcing himself to slow the flood of experiences bubbling from inside.
Toloache Plumb: No mother ever loved her son more than this one loves Cornelius. She is torn between protecting him and using her husband’s money and influence to keep her son within the social mainstream which she feels is his only opportunity for fulfillment.
Mr. Hallows: Principal of Zachary Taylor Middle School. Age 45. A true empath. He understands Cornelius from within the social and educational construct better than anyone. There is a dark, troubling secret that the administration and he are privy to.
Cililla Queez: An apparent product of Cornelius’ mind, there to guide him through a rough emotional patch. Only Cornelius can see Cililla. And while they are able to converse openly with each other, no one else is privy to these conversations. [This is accomplished by fading into shadow all but the two, who are in full light.]
SETTING: The principal’s office. Large desk, center stage, facing left. His desktop has a look of controlled clutter. Two-tiered tray with papers hanging over the edge. Several stacks of papers. A box of tissue with a sheet protruding. A Large book, probably a dictionary, to the side. A chair faces the desk. Centerstage left, on a small circular table, a sizeable ebony Buddha sits. On the floor beside the Buddha table, a white vase holds a lily. Upstage, on the wall, a large cubist, or another modernistic, rendering of Jesus with pierced palms spread. Upstage right, a door. A few chairs line that wall.
AT RISE: A conservatively dressed TOLOACHE sits across from the desk, her hands folded in her lap, the fingers of one hand clutching the letter. MR. HALLOW'S hands are flattened on his desk, his head slightly canted, a faint smile on his lips. Softly, in the background, someplace offstage, piano music has been playing (Chopin’s Nocturne No 8 in D-flat Major) and continues to play until contraindicated throughout.
TOLOACHE:
Soooooooo.
MR. HALLOWS:
(Still slightly smiling, distracted, looking over TOLOACHE’S shoulder.)
The letter. Of course… He plays so beautifully.
TOLOACHE:
Well …
(MR. HALLOWS closes his eyes and allows his head to sways right and left to the music [the volume of which increases during this brief time]; he sways his head in very much the way CORNELIUS traces the infinity sign with his finger. It’s as though he’s alone in the room.)
TOLOACHE (Continued [as the volume decreases]):
If I’d known Cornelius was here only to provide the ambiance …
MR. HALLOWS:
(His eyes snap open)
Please—oh, my—please forgive me, Mrs. Plumb. It may’ve been shortsighted of me to assign young Cornelius to the music room while we’re having our initial … chat. But … but when you listen to—
(Making a few closed-eyed infinity-sweeps with his head before blinking rapidly and giving his head a shake.)
You know … Mrs. Plumb … it only happens once or twice a year that I can bundle up on my front porch and marvel at nature’s thunderclouds gathered overhead, pulsing and throbbing out of a congestion of … of furiously beautiful energy; rumbling out of an overfullness of fierce joy … and yes, yes, ha-ha, I know I am at risk, Mrs. Plumb; I know I’m being foolhardy; the world would shudder at my irresponsibility in subjecting myself to being converted in an instant’s flash…
(Snaps finger)
to a pile of sodden ash.
TOLOACHE:
(After watching him with a look of amazement.)
Mr. Hallows … the letter?
MR. HALLOWS:
(Rummaging through, and finding a folder, he taps the corner of it to his temple.)
Yes. The letter. Mrs. Plumb … But you must see that … Cornelius’s genius is imprisoned within such a thundercloud. You and Mr. Plumb are as though sitting on your front steps in wonder, in fear, and in awe of the energy entrapped there … Oh, my but you are courageous and, yes, a little insane for allowing yourself to be exposed to nature’s elements.
TOLOACHE:
(sighing, as though tired)
Mr. Plumb listened to the world’s common sense years ago and went inside.
(Cocks her head and seems to regard him closely.)
But that’s not what I’m here about, is it?
MR. HALLOWS:
(Laughs nervously, still distracted by the music, and opens the folder.)
Cornelius concerns me, concerns the school, in two ways, Mrs. Plumb. First, his … what would you call it … his inwardness doesn’t allow us to know if he is emotionally preparing himself for the upcoming Constitution test.
TOLOACHE:
Emotionally?
MR. HALLOWS:
Yes, children, at eleven and twelve years of age, lack a certain maturity. Most don’t understand, and couldn’t care less if they did, that Zachary Taylor Middle School’s requirements for graduation must be compliant with the requirements of the State of California.
TOLOACHE:
Yes?
MR. HALLOWS:
We get some complaints from parents, about this time of year, that their children are being frightened by Mr. Hiney’s rather militaristic scare tactics over the importance of passing the Constitution test.
TOLOACHE:
I haven’t complained, Mr. Hallows.
MR. HALLOWS:
Precisely, Mrs. Plumb. And while Mr. Hiney can see the effects of his tactics in the faces of some of his students, and some even see him after class hours, Mr. Hiney can see no such evidence of concern in young Cornelius’s face. Nor has Cornelius communicated his concerns to Mr. Hiney. Which … Which—
TOLOACHE:
(shrugs)
Which?
MR. HALLOWS:
… Leads us to wonder if you, Mrs. Plumb, are aware of the importance of Cornelius passing the Constitution test.
TOLOACHE:
Meaning he would be forced to repeat the eighth grade? Cornelius brought home the announcement a month ago. Yes, I’m aware. Besides, don’t you quiz the students on their progress?
MR. HALLOWS:
We do. And from grade one to grade eight, Cornelius has scored perfectly on true/false, multiple-choice, and fill-in-the-blank answers. As will come as no surprise to you, our tests show he has a … photographic memory.
TOLOACHE:
Eidetic?
MR. HALLOWS:
Yes, I wasn’t sure you—
TOLOACHE:
He inherited it from his father.
MR. HALLOWS:
Interesting. I wonder how much more …
TALOACHE:
Nothing. I assure you. Now … since we know the Constitution test will not likely contain essay questions because they are, what? harder to measure? And since he’s aced all the quizzes … is there something more I need to know about this first concern regarding Cornelius?
(As though on cue, the piano playing stops. MR. HALLOWS turns his head to look at the door. He turns back.)
MR. HALLOWS:
Of course, every piece has its ending.
TOLOACHE:
(Ignoring MR. HALLOW’S words)
You know, Mr. Plumb would be baffled by your concerns for Cornelius’s grades on the constitution, Mr. Hallows. Howard’s a bit more cynical. He might wonder why you would be so anxious to promote Cornelius to high school anyway. It might be to your benefit … you know …
(The piano music begins again; MR. HALLOWS closes his eyes briefly, and smiles.)
MR. HALLOWS:
So gifted, your son …. Mrs. Plumb, you may pass it on to Mr. Plumb that I would not benefit in any way by Cornelius’s being held back. I won’t be here.
TALOACHE:
Oh? Promoted, Sir?
MR. HALLOWS:
(chuckling.)
No, no.
TOLOACHE:
You are much too young to retire….
MR. HALLOWS:
I think so. Thanks for noticing. I’m being … um … let go, Mrs. Plumb—but that’s not important.
TOLOACHE:
Not important! Not important? Mr. Hallows, how can it not be important? You have responsibilities. Do you have a family?
MR. HALLOWS:
No family. And while I’m touched by your concern, Mrs. Plumb, what I meant about my unemployment status not being important, is that it has nothing to do with why you are here.
TOLOACHE:
Which I must say is still a bit hazy, Mr. Hallows.
MR. HALLOWS:
(Small smile flickering.)
The kids call me Hal.
TOLOACHE:
Really.
MR. HALLOWS:
Some of them. Well, most of them ... Mr. Hal, actually.
TOLOACHE:
I see. Mr. Hal … Why do I get the feeling that you’re reluctant to broach the subject of what’s troubling you about Cornelius?
MR. HALLOWS:
Yes. I suppose. Well. Mrs. Bain, Cornelius’s English teacher, brought me a page of an assignment she had given her class a few weeks ago. She gives the same assignment every year as a tool primarily to evaluate the child’s level of proficiency in expressing personal aspects of his or her life.
TOLOACHE:
Is that a fact!
MR. HALLOWS:
This is the question Mrs. Bain gives the children, Mrs. Plumb.
(reads from the open folder, tilted toward him.)
When you daydream, what do you think about most? Be as creative as you like, as long as it is honest. Only three rules: 1) fill the entire page (the page-back optional). 2) use every line. 3)use no less than seven words per line.
TOLOACHE:
(Cautious.)
Okay?
MR. HALLOWS:
Much is predictable, year after year, according to Mrs. Bain. Three-quarters of the girls' responses are about high school anxieties, mostly acceptance or popularity-related. Roughly the same percentage of boys’ responses were sports-related. About two percent of the girls used hearts to dot their I’s. Once every few years—a child, almost without exception, a boy—will use only the reverse side of the page, with the justification, when questioned about it, that it was optional.
TOLOACHE:
But that wouldn’t have been Cornelius …. Mr. Hal, obviously my son would have been in the twenty-five percent category; and what he wrote troubled you enough to ask for our presence here. May I read that paper, Mr. Hal?
MR. HALLOWS:
As you wish, Mrs. Plumb.
(Removes paper from the folder and hands it to her.)
(TOLOACHE examines the paper, noticing that both sides are filled. As she reads CORNELIUS’S tidy script with her finger scanning the lines, she stops.)
TOLOACHE:
Who is this … Pidely-Poo?
MR. HALLOWS:
I was hoping you knew.
(TOLOACHE shakes her head with puzzlement and resumes reading. Soon her face slackens and her eyes fill. Her throat catches as she continues to read. She reaches for a tissue on the desk. MR. HALLOWS eyes also fill and he looks away with frustration, trying to blink away the tears. TOLOACHE finishes the paper and looks up at MR. HALLOWS.)
TOLOACHE:
(with a nod to the letter)
May I?
MR. HALLOWS:
Yes. Mrs. Bains has retained a copy of it for creative writing evaluation purposes. That is yours.
TOLOACHE
I’d like to see my son now.
MR. HALLOWS:
Of course. If you’ll excuse me, then?
(MR. HALLOWS exits through door, upstage right. For the period he is gone, TOLOACHE leaves her seat and stops to study the Buddha and the painting of Jesus. She returns to her chair just as the door opens and MR. HALLOWS enters, followed by CORNELIUS, whose hand is being held, against his will, by a smiling and pert CILILLA QUEEZ. Before taking his seat, MR. HALLOWS retrieves a chair for CORNELIUS, placing it on the far side of his desk, midway between himself and TOLOACHE. CILILLA stands beside the now-seated CORNELIUS, her hand on his shoulder.)
END OF SCENE THREE
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Author Notes
Much gratitude for the photo by Daniel on Upsplash.
Note: The stage directions are from the Actor's perspective, not the audience's, nor the readers: therefore, everything is reversed: i.e., what the actors perceive as stage right would be perceived as stage left by the audience.
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