Produced by William Coon
The Reckoning
A Play in One Act
By PERCIVAL WILDE
The Reckoning
The scene is a barber shop. At the center is the chair, facing amirror and washstand at the right. The tiled walls are sprinkledwith the usual advertisements. At the rear, a door leads up tothe street by a flight of two or three steps. A dock on the leftwall indicates three.
At the rise of curtain, THE BARBER, a man of fifty, isdiscovered sharpening a razor, and whistling softly to himself.He finishes with the razor; seats himself in the chair, takes upa paper, and reads.
The door opens, and THE CUSTOMER, a flashily-dressed individualof forty-five, enters the shop.
THE BARBER. (Rising at once) Good afternoon, sir.
THE CUSTOMER. (Pulling out his watch) That clock right?
THE BARBER. Yes, sir; Western Union time. Corrected every hour.
THE CUSTOMER. My watch has run down. (He sets it.) Now, I'vegot just five minutes to spare. Can you shave me in that time?
THE BARBER. Five minutes, sir? Easy! Easy!
THE CUSTOMER. All right. Go ahead. (He takes off his hat andcoat, and moves towards the chair.)
THE BARBER. Your collar also, sir.
THE CUSTOMER. (Smiling) Fussy, aren't you?
THE BARBER. Well, sir, I try to do my work well.
THE CUSTOMER. (Takes off tie and collar, putting his expensivescarf-pin in the edge of his vest, which he does not remove)Satisfied now?
THE BARBER. Yes, sir Thank you, sir. (He gets out sheet, towels,etc.) In a hurry, sir?
THE CUSTOMER. Yes. Got to attend a meeting at three-ten.
THE BARBER. Oh! The auction up-stairs?
THE CUSTOMER. Yes. (He glances at the clock.) You'll have tocut it pretty fine.
THE BARBER. Don't worry, sir. There's lots of time…. From thecountry, sir?
THE CUSTOMER. (Lighting a cigar) Yes. Southerner.
THE BARBER. (Fastening the sheet) I thought so. I'm from thecountry myself.
THE CUSTOMER. What part?
THE BARBER. Oh, that would be difficult to say. You see, I'vemoved around so much that I'm neither a Southerner nor aNortherner. I'm just an American. (He mixes the lather.) Ilived in a little town near Savannah for a year.
THE CUSTOMER. Did you? Why, so did I.
THE BARBER. Yes, indeed. I used to see you—quite frequently—though you never came into my shop. Then I went to Philadelphia.
THE CUSTOMER. What year?
THE BARBER. Let me think. It was April, twelve years ago.
THE CUSTOMER. April, twelve years ago? I went to Philadelphiathe same month!
THE BARBER. I saw you there, too, sir. (He lets down the chairsuddenly.)
THE CUSTOMER. (Startled) What are you doing?
THE BARBER. I'm hurrying, sir.
THE CUSTOMER. Well, you needn't break my neck about it.
THE Barber. No, sir. (Lathering.) From Philadelphia I went to
Newark.
THE CUSTOMER. To Newark?
THE BARBER. And from Newark to Indianapolis.<