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10 pages of: Gogol Project - Kitty Felde
202-713-0947
SCENE 17
Lights up on the back room at the Post Office. It’s a horrible place. There are a number of CLERKS standing around tossing letters into slots in a wall of sorting boxes. The Clerks are careless, letters often fly across the room, landing in the corner. They also toss letters at each other, shuffle them like a deck of cards, juggle them, generally having a great time.
Akaky enters and finds his place. He works slowly and carefully, reading each address before reverently placing it in its designated box. He sometimes mouths the words, smiling at his favorite street names.
There is whispering and gesturing among the other clerks. They are clearly laughing at Akaky.
CLERK 1
You know his landlady?
CLERK 2
The old crone.
CLERK 1
Beats our poor Akaky every night. Keeps asking him when the wedding date will be.
Akaky does not react. CLERK 2 takes a waste basket full of torn up papers and sneaks up behind Akaky.
CLERK 2
Looks like the weather’s changing. Feels like snow.
He dumps mountains of paper on top of Akaky, the small bits of paper falling like snow.
Akaky sighs, wipes the bits from his shoulders, and continues. The clerks think this is the funniest thing since those cows ordered a pound of tea.
CLERK 1
Hey. Hey, Akaky! Special delivery!
Clerk 1 tosses a letter at him.
It hits him. Akaky does not
react, but calmly picks it up,
reads the address, and puts it in the correct slot.
CLERK 1
Loser.
VOICE OF GOD
Why? Is this necessary? Leave him alone.
The Clerk can’t tell where this voice is coming from, but it certainly catches his attention. No one else in the office seems to have heard it. He laughs it off, returns to sorting mail. He looks over at Akaky and starts to toss another envelope at the back of Akaky’s head.
VOICE OF GOD
You heard me. Leave him alone.
CLERK 1
Okay. Okay!
Polkan the Postman enters, whistling. He has his leather satchel.
POLKAN
Morning, lads!
He collects the letters from each slot, finds several that are out of order.
POLKAN
Tsk, tsk. Come on, lads. You can do better than this. At least read the addresses before you thrown them in the slot.
Akaky is still carefully reading and filing.
POLKAN
You should watch how Akaky does it – careful, steady.
He slaps Akaky on the back, which jars his concentration.
POLKAN
Excellent work, Akaky Akakievich. Excellent work. You should take the letter carrier’s exam.
Akaky is terrified.
POLKAN
You’ll love it – walking all over the city, chatting up the ladies.
Akaky shakes his head “no,” his
hand shakes in terror. The letter in his hand flaps like a duck. The Clerks laugh.
POLKAN
That's all right, Akaky. I understand. You’re just a bit shy. Don’t worry. Just keep sorting your mail. All right?
Akaky takes a deep breath, in and out. He nods his head.
Meanwhile, the other clerks – but not Clerk 1 – have been watching this interaction and have been joking around at Akaky’s expense.
Clerk 1 gives them the evil eye, but they ignore him. Polkan notices as well.
POLKAN
Knock it off. Oh, I almost forgot. I’ve got mail for you, lads. Pay day.
He pulls envelopes out of his bag
addressed to each clerk. He gives the correct one to each clerk and exits. The clerks rip open the envelopes and count the roubles.
Akaky is last. He carefully pockets the unopened envelope. The town clock strikes five. The Clerks dash out the door.
Akaky looks disappointed that the day is over. He slowly puts on his overcoat, which is ragged and falling apart. He sticks his hand through one of the larger holes. He turns it inside out and we see that it’s literally a patchwork of repair jobs, trying to hold the garment together. We even see the rest of his collar, patching up one hole. Akaky sadly shakes his head. He heads out the door.
Lights out.
SCENE 18
Lights up on the hovel Akaky calls home. It's dark and dingy. Akaky enters, takes off his ragged overcoat, and looks closely at it. He rearranges the patches to try to cover the holes. It doesn’t work.
He takes the envelope out of his pocket and takes a locked box out of a corner. He shakes it. There are a few coins. He carefully opens the envelope and drops his roubles inside the box.
Akaky fills a bowl with soup from the stove (or fireplace) and sits at the table, slurping it down.
When he’s finished with dinner, he washes the bowl and spoon, puts them away, then takes out a tin of tea. He turns it on its side. He picks up the pay envelope and practices tossing it in the tea tin, taking a step back every time he does it perfectly. The light around Akaky shrinks, so that he’s bathed in a pool of light, perfecting his mail toss.
Lights come up on another house on the other side of the stage, where our Clerks are assembled, playing cards and drinking tea from glasses. They bet with cookies and smoke cigars.
Clerk 2 enters the room, shaking the snow off his clothing. He's greeted wildly by the others.
CLERK 3
Get in here, you old reprobate! Join us.
The card players are fast and furious.
CLERK 2
You’ll never guess who I saw in Nevsky Prospect.
CLERK 3
The Nose? That's old news.
CLERK 2
How 'bout that paragon of mail sorting, Akaky Akakievich?
They all laugh, except Clerk 1.
CLERK 1
Hey, be nice.
CLERK 3
Can you believe that nasty overcoat he wears?
CLERK 2
His bathrobe, you mean?
All but Clerk 1 laugh. Cards are snapped down on the table.
CLERK 1
So who DID you see?
CLERK 2
Polkan the Postman, strolling Nevsky Prospect with two ladies – neither of whom was his wife.
CLERK 3
Typical. Wonder if he calls them “lassies.”
CLERK 1
Say, is it true that two cows ordered a pound of tea in Sylvana’s?
CLERK 3
I heard it was one cow and two pounds of tea.
CLERK 2
Play your cards.
Lights fade on the clerks.
Lights have remained up on Akaky, who has been tossing the envelope over and over again. He sighs and puts the tea tin away. He decides to hold onto the envelope and can’t figure out where to put it. He decides on the pocket of his overcoat. He puts it in. It falls through the hole in the pocket. He tries again. It again falls to the ground. He picks up the overcoat to examine it and it literally falls to pieces in his hands. He’s aghast. In tears. He tries to put it back together using string or a bit of glue. It doesn’t work. He sighs.
He goes to his locked box, takes out the key, opens it, adds up the money. It’s not enough. He adds it again. Still not enough. He shakes his head.
Lights out.
SCENE 19
The next morning. Lights up on Nevsky Prospect where it’s COLD. We see a few hardy folks walk past, bundled up in warm fur coats and hats or thick wool coats. Snow blows. In fact, it’s so nasty outside that people can hardly make any progress for all the wind and snow blowing in their faces.
Akaky enters, wearing pieces of the overcoat, struggling against the elements. It’s a losing battle. He makes his way to the Tailor’s shop – the sign outside has a giant spool of thread with a needle stuck into it. Akaky goes inside.
PETROVICH THE TAILOR sits on a mat on the floor with a garment in his lap. He is trying to thread a needle. This is harder because he wears a patch over one eye, so his depth perception is off. He tries numerous times. Akaky watches him silently. Petrovich gets steadily more upset, finally exploding in frustration. He notices Akaky, who had just started backing out of the room, figuring there’s probably a better time to come back. He backs up into PETROVICH'S GERMAN WIFE, who enters the flat with a shopping basket on her arm.
WIFE
Dumkoff! Petrovich, you have a customer. And don’t go charging him too little this time!
She marches offstage with her basket. Petrovich looks up.
PETROVICH
Akaky Akakievich. So! What have you brought me this time?
Akaky is a bit intimidated. He shrugs apologetically.
PETROVICH
Come, come.
Akaky sheepishly takes off his overcoat and turns it inside out, showing the various holes. Petrovich inspects the garment closely, admiring his better work, frowning and grunting at the holes. He holds it up to the light, which shines through.
The Wife pokes her head back in.
WIFE
And don’t charge him too much, either! Half the time you take a job for nothing. The rest of the time you charge more than you’re worth yourself!
She exits. Akaky is more intimidated than ever. Petrovich shakes his head.
PETROVICH
No. It is impossible. I am sorry.
Petrovich hands the overcoat back to Akaky, who is appalled. He takes the sleeve of the overcoat and drapes it over the largest hole and shows it to Petrovich.
PETROVICH
I’m sorry. I’ve patched this garment a hundred and one times. It won’t do. There’s nothing left to sew the patches to. Look. All I have to do is touch it with a needle and it falls to pieces.
He threatens to touch the coat with his needle, but Akaky pulls it away in alarm.
PETROVICH
I’m sorry, my friend. It has served you well. But it’s completely worn out. You’ll have to have a new one made for you.
Akaky shakes his head “no.”
PETROVICH
I’m afraid so. You need a new coat.
Akaky checks his pants pockets. He turns them inside out. They are bare. Except for a moth that flies out of one of them.
PETROVICH
I'm afraid it will cost about a hundred and fifty. Maybe a little more.
Akaky is practically having a heart attack.
PETROVICH
Depending on the overcoat you have in mind. If you want fur on the collar or silk lining, the price could be well over two hundred roubles.
Akaky falls to his knees, begging Petrovich to patch the overcoat.
PETROVICH
I’m sorry Akaky Akakievich. If I were to agree to patch your coat, it would fall apart almost immediately. That would be wasted work and money thrown out the window.
Akaky is devastated. He sighs and finally agrees. He slowly pulls out a handkerchief tucked inside his shirt. He carefully unwraps it and holds up the meager stack of coins. Petrovich adds them up.
PETROVICH
I see. Well, we’ll consider it a down payment. And every week you can pay me a little bit more. Yes?
Akaky reluctantly nods.